#going to consume all the music in my path like the guy in spirited away. or pacman

[enthesea]

mutuals. what are your albums that u like... hand em over...

[odetojeons]

Will You Punish Me If I Don’t? — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  a lil drunk reader × possessive wonu angry sex pls

tags: fem and brat!reader, dom!wonwoo, edging, semi-public sex, angry sex, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), a tiiiiiny bit of light degradation and spit kink, unprotected sex (stay safe), wall sex (oh yes you read that right), a whole lot of dirty talk, JEON WONWOO IN A CROP TOP BYE, established jeon wonwoo x reader

a/n: this took me a whole fucking day to write it 💀 i think my soul left my body on the meantime and now i’m just a spirit,, but i love this so much, pls, possessive wonu is one of the biggest moods ever 🥵 also i’m sure i made a lot of stupid grammar mistakes that i didn’t realize even after proof reading it, so you’re just gonna,, pretend you don’t see those :)) i hope you enjoy, i made this with all my heart JDJSJDJS

word count:  6244

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You know very well you’re being annoying and petty today.

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You both have been on this damn party for a while and you tried to get Wonwoo to leave and fuck you for at least five times now. You tried dirty dancing on the dance floor; nope. You tried sitting on his lap when he was talking to his friends; nope. You even tried to make out with him; but it only had lasted for a few minutes.

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It had you even more horny and angry. And that is never a good combination when it comes to you.

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But can people really blame you when Wonwoo is looking that good? You have been making a great amount of effort not to stare too much at Wonwoo’s abs peeking from his black cropped shirt, the sharpness of his V-line more visible than it should be legally allowed — it’s bad for your poor heart after all. But you do a poor job of hiding how the whole outfit affects you, because Wonwoo was looking and he had this known glint swimming inside his eyes and it’s got you licking your lips. 

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But still, he didn’t do anything.

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Well, not until you used your last resort.

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Your mind threw back to the memory of Wonwoo’s big hand resting on your inner thigh earlier when you were sitting in his lap, the veins in the back of his palm tracing a dirty path up to his forearms. And there’s always a strength, even a possessiveness in the way he holds you, his other hand squeezing a little hard against your waist, grip tightening every time someone stares at you for a second too long. There’s something so raw in the way he acts, like it’s almost unconscious, and it turns you on without a doubt.

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No matter how you looked at other people and tried to rile him up, Wonwoo still remained in his stupid composed behavior, this little acts being the only proof of his jealousy. 

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But not tonight. Tonight you were going to make him snap, no matter what. You were gonna make him fuck you rough and fast and give you as many orgasms as you wanted.

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Oh, but you were so wrong. Things totally backfired at you.

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You started by going into the dance floor again, after a few shots of some liquid courage. Swaying your hips at the beat, you tried your best to throw sultry looks at where he was sitting — manspreading, your brain unfortunately added, because he looked so hot doing that — in one of the sofas, eyes set on you like you’re the only thing that he could ever look at.

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You smirked, pleased with his reaction, before proceeding with your plan. Hands reaching forward, you touched the shoulder of the first guy you saw in front of you. It doesn’t take long for him to turn around and smile. He seemed genuinely nice, so you felt a little bad for using him to make your boyfriend jealous, but when you looked at him the guilt disappeared in two seconds.

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His head was hung low, eyebrows frown and fists clenched in where he supported his arms on the sofa. You winked at him and clearly saw how he seemed to almost visibly snarl at your teasing, knowing very well what was your intent with all of that; Wonwoo looked at you like he was about to consume you whole in front of everyone just to prove who you belonged to — and you felt your legs tremble at the idea of that.

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It was a game to see who would give in first; you to your frustration and horniness or Wonwoo to his possessives and jealousy. You couldn’t stop staring at him, the both of you shooting daggers into each other, especially when you turned your back to the guy and swayed your hips obscenely for him. 

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But it was when he put his hand on your waist and glued his lips to your ear that things started taking a turn of events; in the next second, Wonwoo was standing right beside you. The air grew thicker quickly, and your breath was knocked out of you at the sight of your — very pissed off and very hot — boyfriend looking down at you. 

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“What do you think you’re doing?” Wonwoo’s voice had rang through your ears, loud enough to make you mewl softly even through all the music going on in the background.

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“Dancing?” you asked with fake innocence, batting your eyelashes at him. Wonwoo groaned, grabbing your wrist.

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“Um,” the guy from before started. “I think I should be going now?”

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He waited for an answer, but you and Wonwoo were too busy looking at each other intensively to even care, so he cleared his throat and left.

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“Let’s go,” he stated simply, pulling at you through the crowd so you both could go outside. You giggle a little when you trip on your foot, a bit tipsy with the shots you took.

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And that’s how you find yourself currently being guided until you were both right in front of his car. Your mouth opens, ready to make a clever comment that would surely rile him up and give in to what you want, before he turns around and gets all over your personal space, so suddenly that the words get stuck in your throat. The scent of his cedarwood cologne invades your lungs, sending your mind into a little haze.

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“What were you thinking, letting another man touch you?” Wonwoo says, voice rough and firm, lips pressed into a thin line like he was still holding something back.

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And you don’t want him to.

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“You took too long, and I have needs,” you retort, stepping up into his space too, not wanting to back down even when the sight of Wonwoo’s dark, dark eyes bleeding with lust made a very noticeable shiver run down your spine.

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“What kind of need would even make you want to rub yourself all over someone else that—” he stops himself, closing his mouth before groaning, annoyed. You smirk at him, knowing what he was going to say.

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All over someone else that isn’t me.

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“Hmm, let me see,” you giggle, face centimeters apart from his, your breaths mingling with each other. “A need to get fucked hard, for starters.”

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The intensity of his gaze growing exponentially dark wipes the smile off your face in seconds. You try not to gulp when he scoffs, taking one messy step back when he takes one further.

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���So that’s what this is about?” Wonwoo questions, tone suddenly mean and sarcastic, and there’s heat licking and pooling at your lower belly faster than you expected. His deep voice never fails to leave you trembling. “You’re so desperate to get railed that you couldn’t even wait to get home before throwing yourself at some random dude.”

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Your cheeks tint red in shame and arousal, realizing this wasn’t a question. It was an affirmation, like he knows exactly how horny you are, and you try to remain composed. You are not going to give up until he loses it.

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“Maybe,” you say, a single finger trailing through his torso distractingly, and you don’t even try to hide your hunger when you look at his abs peeking from behind his cropped. Wonwoo’s face hardens at that, and you smile internally in victory. “Why? Are you jealous, baby?”

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He laughs, throwing his head back, but it only serves to make you even more satisfied. That’s exactly the reaction you expected him to have.

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“You’re drunk,” Wonwoo answers instead, and you think it’s endearing how he denies so hard that he’s not possessive.

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“Nope,” you press your finger in his chest again, but he doesn’t even buge from the place. Fuck, that’s hot, you think, licking your lips and watching Wonwoo’s eyes zeroing in the action. “A little bit tipsy? Yes. But drunk? Not at all.”

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Suddenly, you back away, trying to ignore the way your body protests against the lack of warmth, the lack of Wonwoo.

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“So if you’re not jealous, then you wouldn’t mind me getting off with someone else, right?” you trail off, feeling proud of yourself when he looks at you like you just made something emerge from the ground with psychic powers.

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“What?” he asks, tone furious, and you jump a little in place with the intensity of it, but soon recovers with a pout.

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“I mean,” you start, acting like you’re not saying the biggest stupid thing you could ever think of saying, shrugging at him. Of course it was all a lie, there’s no way you’ll ever want someone else other than Wonwoo. “You’re always telling me to wait and wait and wait, so if you’re not that jealous, then maybe I should get someone else to fuck me when you can’t.”

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Wonwoo moves so fast your brain takes a time to understand what he just did; in a second you were standing with your glorious bratty attitude, the next you were pushed against the car, one hand squeezing your jaw tight in place and the other holding your wrists behind your back. His bigger and broader body pins yours against the door, and you have a hard time breathing now.

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Now that’s a way to sober up.

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“No,” he grits out, sounding more like a growl than an actual word. Your heart is hammering like crazy against your chest, and you gasp softly when he pushes your jaw backwards until the back of your head hits the car, neck exposed for him. “No one should be allowed to touch you like this. No one but me. No one.”

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Then Wonwoo bites the juncture of your neck and shoulder, so hard you think the mark is gonna be there for days. You moan at that, hips kicking and shocking with Wonwoo’s.

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“You know nobody could fuck you like I do,” he says, sounding smug but also dead serious, and this cocky side of his during such moments never fails to make you wet.

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You inhale, reuniting the fight there’s still in you. To be honest the only thing that makes you still retort back is the alcohol. It gives you a special ability of not being able to shut up.

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“I guess someone else will have to fuck me so I can believe you.”

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You watch his demeanor change instantly at that; shoulders tensing, jaw clenching and predatory eyes — Wonwoo kisses the breath out of you. He sucks at your body lip, licking at the seam of your mouth, and you gasp, mouth parting and his tongue slides against yours. There’s a hot flash rushing all over you as your body pulses with want; Wonwoo has always been a great kisser, capable of surrendering you putty in his hands.

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He kisses you again and again and again, as if someone might take you away. He kisses you like he wants to carve his identity in your soul. He kisses you so messy and hungry that your teeth actually clack and the sounds of your lips dragging roughly and tongues rubbing against each other fills the air around you.

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Wonwoo can probably taste the alcohol, if the way he moans is anything to go by.

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It is dirty, lewd and so fucking hot you feel the fight leaving your body momentarily along with your breath, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen. There are a few tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, and you don’t even realize their presence, but then, and only then, Wonwoo pulls away. He bites at your lower lip one more time, a lewd string of saliva connecting your mouths for a short while before it breaks.

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“Seems like you suddenly forgot who’s name you scream when you’re getting railed,” Wonwoo tells you, voice poisonous and labored breath caressing the skin of your neck. “Should I remind you?”

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“Y-yes,” you moan out, enjoying the proposal, but it only serves to make Wonwoo scoff.

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“I think you need to learn how to respect me first,” he says instead, and there’s butterflies swarming together in your belly, chest still heaving for air.

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“Will you punish me if I don’t?” you retort, staring him right back in the eyes.

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Wonwoo growls.

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“You better shut the fuck up before I make you regret,” he says, and you feel a shiver rocking so bad on your body that your hips collide into Wonwoo’s, his half hard cock pressing against your stomach. The feeling makes you moan.

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“Why would I?” you ask, trembling voice giving away how much this all affects you. “I want this.”

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There’s a bit of silence before you continue.

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“Make me regret.”

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“Fuck,” Wonwoo groans, biting on your neck again, this time so far up that you won’t be able to hide it that easily. “So needy you can’t even think about anything else other than having a cock drilling into you.”

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Wonwoo kisses your moan away, sucks at your bottom lip until it’s swollen. Then, he puts three fingers in your mouth, like he’s telling you to shut up.

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Wonwoo turns his head to look down at your shuddering frame trapped between the side of the car and him. You don’t look up, too focused on sucking at his long fingers, but when Wonwoo starts to move his arm that was occupied by your mouth, you stir, and look up to meet his eyes.

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They’re dark, with a glint in them you could only recognize as devious and wicked and so so so mean. It’s the same glint he gets when he’s about to deal out a punishment, or tease you enough that you believe it’s a punishment. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand, and a bead of sweat drips from your eyebrow. You wonder what you’ve got yourself in for the night when you both get home.

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As if on cue, answering your arousal hazed thoughts, the hand that was slowly doing a dangerous path down your body settles itself on the front of your pants. It’s heavy on your clit, and you can feel Wonwoo digging his fingers into your entrance. You barely have the sense to react, and even if you could, you reminded yourself you weren’t home yet. Wonwoo now has his hand groping your pussy in public.

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Your face flushes a dark red at the realization, feeling humiliated and embarrassed under Wonwoo’s grip. If someone were to see, they’d get arrested for sure. Wonwoo’s hand has a strong grip on your clit, fingers quickly slipping past the thick fabric of your denim jeans and lace panties so he could press the pad of it against your naked and wet folds.

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You whine quietly, and now that the hold on your jaw has been set loose, you nestle your face further into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck. With a grip on Wonwoo’s jacket, you feel him angling his head so it rests against the top of your head.

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“Wait, f-fuck, someone might see us!” you whisper-yell at him, but Wonwoo only hums and steps in closer. Your chests are flush together and he towers over your frame easily enough to hide you between him and the car. “Wonwoo—”

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Your sentence gets interrupted by your own moan when he presses a finger inside of you. You quiver, legs trembling, and you let the realization that Wonwoo is about to finger you publicly sink into your stomach. You know that the streets are deserted and there’s not one single soul around there since it’s so late, but the thought of it still has you gasping.

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“Wait? But weren’t you the one complaining about me making you wait all the time?” Wonwoo bites back, tone mean and unforgiving when he fucks his finger inside of you. He sounds almost angry and it’s making you so damn horny. “Earlier you were looking at me with such a hunger. I bet you were thinking about me fucking you in front of everyone, weren’t you, baby?”

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You moan because yes, that was exactly what you were thinking. His hand lets go of your wrists when he adds another finger inside of you. It burns a little, you think, but enjoys the pain as your arms fly up to circle around his neck and pull him closer. Wonwoo goes easily, mouth finding yours and fingers fucking inside you in a way that has you squirming.

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He soon gives attention to your neck, kissing all over it before sucking a wet blotch against the skin right underneath your jaw. Wonwoo pulls away, looking at it for a while like it gives him some sort of feral satisfaction to see you bearing one of his marks.

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“Wonwoo, I’m n-not—” your words break off into a whine, struggling to form sentences. “Not— g-gonna be able to hide the, ah, hickey i-if you suck it that far up.”

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“Good,” Wonwoo says, and his mouth finds your neck. You scratch his scalp when he sucks again, this time harder, his arm coming to help you up when your legs give in. “Want everyone to know you’re mine. Only mine to fuck, to breed, to love, to cherish, to make you my little slut.”

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You throw your head, back arching off of the car and mouth opening to let a high pitched moan scape you. Wonwoo then adds another finger, the third one, and gyrates them so hard inside you you actually feel like you’re seeing stars, figuratively and realistically — the night sky above you is adorned with a few of them.

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“Acting like a brat and riling me up like that, this is what you wanted, isn’t that right, princess?” Wonwoo spits out, lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s getting more and more angry at his own words. “If I didn’t stop you right there, would you have continued dancing with that dude, huh? Would you maybe have made out with him?”

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You try to answer, maybe tease him back again, but you can’t even form a coercive sentence. The only thing you can do is hold onto Wonwoo like your life depends on it as he fucks you furiously with his fingers, and take whatever he’s willing to give it to you. 

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“Do you think he could finger you like this?” Wonwoo says poisonously, hand squeezing at your ass hard enough that you think it’s gonna leave the print of his fingers. “Think he would have a bigger cock than mine?”

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He ruts against you as if to prove his point, hard and so fucking big it has you breathless. You know how your boyfriend is well-endowed, know he could make you feel him for days after a good fuck and your mouth salivates. Wonwoo presses the pad of his fingers in your sweet spot, jamming against it without pulling out with quick movements, and you feel like you’re going insane.

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“Since you put a lot of effort into being a fucking brat today, I will give you what you want, sweetheart,” Wonwoo laughs a little, almost as if he’s mocking you, and your whole face burns in pleasurable humiliation. “I’m gonna be rough. I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast against every surface of our house, gonna make you scream my name so everyone knows you belong to me, gonna use you, make you my little ragdoll and dump you full of my cum until you’re all heavy and swollen with it.”

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“Wonwoo— your f-fuck, fucking dirty mouth, ah—” you thrash in his grip, nestling your face further into his neck and he knew, he knew all along what was your intention with the way you were acting, and you hold tight on his hair, hearing him growl when you pull at it. “I’m gonna come. Gonna cum s-so fucking hard, fuck—”

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“I’ll make it hurt,” Wonwoo warns, his lips ghosting at the shell of your ear and hot breath tickling your sensitive skin, brings goosebumps all over it. “But I’ll make it feel good.”

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The pleasure builds quickly and you throw your head back with a loud moan, orgasm almost hitting you like a train.

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But then, everything stops. Wonwoo pulls away, fingers slipping out of you and he wipes them in his jeans. He then goes through his pocket and grabs the car keys, the familiar beep sound echoing through the empty streets when he clicks a button on the key chain, and it’s got you completely dumbfounded.

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“Come on, get in the car, baby,” Wonwoo states simply, like he didn’t just make the best orgasm of your life ebb away. Frustration sinks deep within your bones and you groan, turning to look at him like he just committed a war crime.

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“Why did you— why did you stop?” you question, heart almost jumping out of your chest and you feel like you’re going to actually die if you don’t get to come soon. “I was just there!”

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“Oh, sweetheart,” Wonwoo coos at you like he finds what you just said endearing. Face flushing dark red, you get completely embarrassed with how quick he makes you feel small. “You thought I was going to make you cum?”

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Wonwoo comes closer, holds your chin softly, a total contrast to what he says then.

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“Poor baby, I’m actually going to do the exact opposite.” he pecks your lips once. “Gonna edge you until you cry.”

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He goes around the car and opens the door for you.

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“Now get in, baby. Don’t make me repeat myself,” Wonwoo says, tone leaving no room for arguments, and you gulp before obeying.

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Wonwoo closes the door for you when you finish settling yourself inside, and goes to the driver’s seat. You watch him turn the car on as you put your seatbelt, whining when your cunt throbs in need. When he starts driving you try your best to move as quietly as you can, squirming a little until you can smooth your fingers through your clit. You gyrate them once, pleasure swarming all over your body, before Wonwoo’s voice wakes you up from your short haze.

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“No touching yourself,” he admonishes with a tsk and you groan, frustrated. He’s still looking at the road and you don’t even know how he managed to figure it out that you were touching yourself.

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Staring out of the window, your thighs rub together every time the car shakes a little. Your mind supplies unnecessary images of your boyfriend fucking you, and you curse a little. Even trying to imagine disgusting things wouldn’t delete Wonwoo’s words from earlier out of your head, and you’re getting more and more excited by the second.

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“Wonwon…” you sigh, almost a whisper, hips moving in the air and hands coming to grab at one of your breasts. You smirk, content when you hear him growl.

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“I said not to touch yourself,” Wonwoo’s knuckles turn white with how hard he grips the steering wheel. “Should I tie you up in our bed and leave you untouched or are you going to start obeying me?”

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“But you’re not doing anything,” you whine, wanting nothing else then to come.

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“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” Wonwoo says, voice low and dead serious.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think you know either.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The car comes to a complete stop right after you say that. You gulp, realizing Wonwoo has already parked in your private garage. He gets out of the car and goes to your side, opening the door, still in complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Turn this way,” he orders, voice one octave lower, and you gasp at the roughness of it. “Now.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You spring into action, take your seatbelt off, doing as you’re told, and as soon as you finish turning to him with your legs outside of the car, he gets on his knees.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo,” it’s the only thing you manage to say as you watch him work with your pants after taking your shoes off. He ends up popping the button off but you don’t have it in you to complain, not when he’s looking like that. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo finishes taking your jeans off, throwing somewhere in the garage, and then he grabs at both sides of the collar of your shirt. You frown, confused with the action, but then his hands are pulling, and he rips it in half.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you moan, beyond turned on as he does the same to your penties. Your clothes are torn apart but you can’t think of anything else other than fuck me fuck me fuck me. “I—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you shut, lips dragging hard against yours, and you feel his hands at your thighs before he pulls at them enough so that you slip on your seat. He uses the grip to open your legs for him, not even giving you a break to understand what’s going on before sucking on your clit hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your back arches, hands scrambling to hold on something — one of them finds the steering wheel and the other finds the wadding of the seat, body thrashing everywhere before Wonwoo pins your hips down in place — knows better than to shove his face in your cunt as you originally wanted to do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He licks between your folds one, two, three times; the tip of his tongue prods inside your already loose entrance, and fuck if you didn’t moan, high pitched and greedy for more. Wonwoo inserts more of it until his nose is pressed against your clit, doing a sound in the back of his throat that sends just right. The wetness of his tongue feels so good pressing against your cores and kicking at your soft folds.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, fuck— f-feels so good—” Wonwoo thrusts his tongue inside you, and you feel like you’re seeing stars, especially when he presses just right. “Ah! Shit, your f-fucking tongue—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo has to hold you down tighter, your body unable to stay put as you thrash around. You feel tempted to think how your neighbors could probably hear you, but your boyfriend is sucking the life out of you through your pussy and you can’t concentrate well enough to elaborate the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s when Wonwoo curls his tongue just right that has you thinking you would ascend to heaven soon. 

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck! I, ah— Wanna cum, Wonwon, I’m coming, please— let me cum this time,” you manage to get out, writhing and legs kicking everywhere. “Please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But, of course Wonwoo, being the little shit he is, pulls away. Tears gather in your eyes as you groan out of frustration, and Wonwoo is just so mean.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shit—” you cry out, watching his shit eating grin. You hate but love at the same time the way he’s absolutely enjoying seeing you so desperate for a release. “Y-you’re so mean.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you gonna stop being a brat now?” Wonwoo raises a brow at you, licking his lips. You shiver, knowing that he’s tasting you by the pleased hum he makes after.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck you,” you spit it out, too horny and angry to care.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, looking at you as if you’re his prey, to which you’re starting to believe you actually are. “Maybe I should put a gag in this dirty little mouth of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo traces a thumb in your lower lip like he’s considering the thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But I think I’m just gonna fuck that attitude out of you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even bring yourself to enjoy the comment before he pulls on your wrist so hard you get up from the seat, body colliding into his. Wonwoo’s mouth finds yours, the kiss messy and hungry and angry, to the point it makes your legs weak. Your hands scramble to take his shirt off right after you manage to throw his belt somewhere, and you stop for a moment to admire the hard planes of his abs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo must be the hottest person alive. How can someone have such a handsome face and have a body that looks like it’s sculpted by the gods? He’s getting stronger with his gym practices and it's making you weak.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You might actually drool if you keep staring like that,” Wonwoo says, half joking and half serious, but you blush anyways.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Just—” you try, breath labored and chest heaving. “J-just rail me. Use me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Want me to treat you like the slut you are?” his lewd question makes you tremble and nod your head. “Speak.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes, please—” you beg, revolve slowly breaking in.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course you do,” he answers, voice a few octave lowers again, and he grabs a fistful of your hair. Wonwoo pulls at it until your head is thrown back, his face right above yours. “Open your mouth.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re quick to obey, mouth parting as he hovers over you, the only thing keeping you up is one of his arms around your waist.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And oh god, you’re certainly not expecting when he fucking spits into your mouth, a hand coming to press against your jaw and make you close your lips, but you sure as hell want him to do it again.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Swallow.” Wonwoo orders, and you moan, doing as you’re told. He looks at you with a feral satisfaction, eyes dark and so full of hunger it stunts you into silence. It’s like there’s this lustful wish of him to break you in until you don’t belong to anyone else but him, and that’s so fucking hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He kisses you for what feels like the hundredth time — not that you’re complaining, he could kiss you for one hundred more and you’d still beg for it. But this time there’s something different, something urgent, and he grasps the back of your thighs when he finishes taking his clothes off and fish something from the pocket of his pants, hefting you up in the air, your legs circling around his waist automatically.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t break the messy kiss as he walks through the garage, opening the door that leads to the inside of the house. He doesn’t waste time before slamming you into it as soon as he closes it, your back hitting the wooden frame with a loud thud as the two of you make out like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s too much tongue and too much spit and too much teeth, but the dirtiness of it all is what makes it even more hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Want you,” you whine out, realizing that what Wonwoo took out of his pants earlier was a package of lube.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He rips at the top and pours at his hands, reaching behind you to stroke his hard cock, groaning at the feeling as he lines up with your entrance. The wet head nudges your rim softly, but it slips through your folds. You look at Wonwoo only to realize he’s already staring at you, devious glint in his eyes.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re about to tell him to hurry up when a moan is punched out of you, high pitched and needy, because Wonwoo fucked his cock inside you in one go, nearly knocking the breath right out of your lungs. Your nails scratch all over his back and he groans at the feeling, hips kicking into you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You like that?” he questions, rhetorically of course, and grinds his hips until they are flushed against your ass. You gasp for air, feeling full to the brim, and the burn in your cunt is just so good. “Think I don’t know about your little plans to rile me up?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo even has the audacity to laugh, jamming inside you with slow but deep thrusts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How you get more handsy with your friends when I’m around,” he grits out, anger bleeding through his thoughts and thrusts like he just hates the idea of you touching more intimately other people. “And you look at me with those eyes. Like you’re begging me to claim you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Holy fuck, Jeon Wonwoo is fucking you standing up and you’re not dreaming.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is full on mercilessly ramming you now, sending you body into the door with every plunge of his cock, the sound of your back hitting the wood obscenely loud. It leaves you putty, can just take what he’s giving you, hands holding him for dear life.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve put you on your knees right in front of that guy,” Wonwoo continues, breath ragged from effort. “Make you choke on my cock so he knows who you belong to.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo grabs your ass with his hands, palms sinking into the flash as he propels you back every time he fucks up. It makes the drag of his thickness press right through all the good spots.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Should’ve bent you over the bar counter and fucked you hard until you scream my fucking name,” he growls out, the veins on his neck and arms bulging. You tighten around him in answer to the sinful view. “Fuck, your pussy is so greedy. Always so tight—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo angles his hips just right and hits against your sweet spot so suddenly that your climax — which was already at bay — escalates quickly to the point it sends your mind into a frenzy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And, for the third time, Wonwoo slows down, hips flush against your ass he can nudge his cockhead right above your sweet spot, missing it on purpose. Your eyes prickle with tears, and it doesn’t take long for them to run down your face; the first one goes reluctantly, but after that they start cascading down your cheeks uncontrollably.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So beautiful,” Wonwoo groans at the sight of you crying for him, pecking one of your tears strained cheek. “I’ve broken you in, haven’t I?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“P-please, Wonwon— Please, please, please let me c-come,” you sob, all the want to be a brat gone from your body. The overwhelming need grows so exponentially big inside of you you feel like you’re going to explode if you don’t orgasm.  “W-wanna cum on your cock, please, ah—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is moaning, louder than he has all day, and the satisfaction of seeing you give up on your fight and beg for him makes his hips pick up a brutal pace. You gasp, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck and biting at the untouched skin.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So pretty when you beg,” he compliments, and you actually find surprising your ability to blush even when you’re being dicked down this good. “Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes— Ah! Hmmm, shit—” you mumble, struggling to get words out. It’s difficult to keep your voice steady enough to say anything with the way you’re bouncing like a ragdoll on Wonwoo’s hold. “Love this— L-love you, ruin me, Wonwoo, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls your head backward with a fistful of your hair, baring your neck so that he could attack it with bites and hickeys all over. You’re sure that, by the end of this night, you’re going to be looking like some type of sexual Christmas tree, but the thought of baring your boyfriend’s marks after sex only turns you on. And he seems pretty intent on that, wanting to claim you in all ways possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say it,” Wonwoo commands, but you don’t understand, can’t understand with your mind being in such a pleasurable haze. He fucks up right in the time he pulls you back down by your waist, downright impaling you on his cock. “Say you’re mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yours,” you answer, fingers intertwining through Wonwoo’s dark strands of hair. “I’m yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” Wonwoo growls out, basking in your pleads and moans and screams of pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours,” you repeat, and he bites on your lower lip. You have enough of a mind presence to admire his bulging biceps contorting with your weight, and his huge test firm and sweaty from the effort.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Again,” his possessive side gets the best of him, admiring all the marks he has left in your neck. “Say it again.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yours, ah!” a moan breaks at the end of the word, Wonwoo’s thrusts getting rougher, faster and there’s heat pooling down on your lower stomach. “I’m y-yours, all yours, only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, mine,” Wonwoo agrees, holding your smaller frame tightly against his. “Mine,” he echoes again, muscles trembling from fucking you standing up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses you, the best he can with the harsh movement of your body going up and down on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you so much,” he tells you, voice soft and rough at the same time. “I have always been only yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m gonna come, I’m g-going to— going to come,” you state after his words, the pull on your lower stomach growing impossibly higher, and it’s almost unbearable. “Please, fuck, please l-let— cum— let m-me cum! I have been g-good, please, Wonwon—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

”Such a good girl for me. The best girl,” Wonwoo praises, angling his hips a little so he can press his cockhead against your sweet spot every time he fucks inside. “Come on, you can cum, sweetheart.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your eyes roll so far back in your head you’re momentarily afraid they are never coming back. White hot pleasure surges in your body, the sheer intensity of your high sends your mind into a mess. The feeling of your walls clenching like a vice around Wonwoo’s cock sends him over the edge too, and the sensation of his cum shooting inside your walls only serves to add up to what you think it’s the best orgasm of your life, mind going completely blank.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This might have been totally different from what you’ve originally planned but you know what? You’re definitely going to use this plan more often now.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[knjoodles]

learn to love; jungkook | 02

pairing: teacher!jungkook x singleparent!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 3k+

summary: raising your daughter alone while simultaneously watching your ex-husband live the life of his dreams away from the two of you hurts. badly. it hurts a little less, though, when you find an unlikely friend while looking for help.

lowercase intended

01 | 03 | 04

   it was day two of having to call your nanny for seyoung because you were too busy with work to get home at a godly hour. if it wasn’t for seulgi, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. anytime you needed her to cook, clean, or take care of your baby girl, she’d be on the case as soon as she could. seulgi means wisdom. you thought her parents couldn’t have chosen a better name for her.

   like you, seulgi has a passion for music. seulgi recently joined sm entertainment, not as a trainee, but as a songwriter. when she brought you the news that she’d been hired, you couldn’t have been more happy for her. over coffee, she explained to you how they offered her a position as a trainee for her voice, but she insisted she would go on as a songwriter because she loves taking care of children, especially seyoung. although seulgi was so cheerful to let you know, you felt as though you had dragged her down from something she may have considered a dream. as you confessed your worry, she begged you not to, saying she knew she wouldn’t be happy as an idol and that she’d get a larger sum of money as a songwriter. her words calmed you, making you feel like, for once, you haven’t done anything wrong. seulgi was like your second daughter, and you love her just as much as you love seyoung.

   “yes, (y/n), seyoung’s in bed! she begged me to make her something new for dinner, so we made pasta together. i just sent you a picture.” seulgi chuckled through the phone, your call about five minutes in.

   “ i’m so glad you guys had fun. i'm guessing she slept later than usual?” you sighed, relieved. you can always count on seulgi.

   “of course she did, you know how seyoung is.” you could practically see her cheerful smile through the phone. “she said, and i quote, ‘mommy isn’t here today, so i’ll go to sleep as late as i want!’ and about ten minutes after that, she was out cold.”

   “seulgi-ah, i can’t believe how lucky i am to have found you. i don’t think i say this enough, but thank you so, so much.” phone balancing between your ear and shoulder, you fumbled with your keys, pulling open your purse to find them.

   “it’s no problem, (y/n). you and seyoung are like my second family.” seulgi paused, the sound of a door shutting softly from the other end of the line. “and… i've cleaned up seyoung’s room! any plans for tonight?”

   “tonight?” you questioned aloud, finally finding your keys and stepping into your car. glancing at the digital clock on your dash, you realized it was three in the morning, and poor seulgi was still in your house watching over your daughter. “uh, well, i'm going to meet seyoung’s teacher at four, so that’s new.”

   seulgi giggled quietly. “did seyoung do something wrong? i know she’s naughty at home, but i never would’ve thought she would mess around at school!”

   “of course, not, she’s got (l/n) blood in her. we deceive everyone with out good looks and amazing personalities.” you joked, earning a shared laugh. “her teacher emailed the parents asking to meet with us, and i decided to sign up as soon as i could. he sounds really excited to get to know seyoung, so i’d like to get to know him.”

   “fair enough, (y/n)! if i may ask, how far away are you from home?” seulgi questioned, a tone of uneasiness in her voice.

   “about two-ish minutes away? why do you ask?” you answered, silently thanking the world that the traffic wasn’t bad this morning. after all, it’s three in the fucking morning. who other than rebellious teenagers or stressed-out parents are driving at this hour?

   “ah, no worries, then. i have classes today, and i thought i might be late or too tired to go if i stayed.” there was a short pause, the faint sound of your car pulling into the driveway on the other end. “i see you!” seulgi cheered. “i’ll come out to greet you, (y/n)."

   almost trudging out of your car, you emerged from the driver's seat, the garage noisily opening behind you. “hi, seulgi.” you groaned. the headlights of your car reflected against what storage you have inside of your garage, straining your eyes and what energy you had left at this point. seeing her approach, you grabbed onto her hands, holding them tightly and shaking them with a firm grip. “thank you, thank you so much for staying with seyoung this late. i know it inconvenienced you, and i'm sorry about that.”

   “(y/n), it’s fine! i'm just doin’ my job.” seulgi smiled crookedly, her hair falling towards her face. “good night!” seulgi waved, bowing politely before walking out of your garage cheerfully. you smiled and watched her get into her car, making sure she at least got in safe.

   the moment her car was out of sight you nearly collapsed in the middle of your garage from exhaustion. pulling your purse from the passenger’s seat, you closed your garage door, making sure to shut the door into your house from your garage to make sure seyoung was not disturbed. throwing your purse onto your desk in defeat, you pulled off your flats and shuffled towards your dresser. kicking off your pants angrily and throwing it, along with your shirt, into your hamper, you pulled on the nearest tank top you could and tumbled into your bed, allowing your body to be consumed in the sheets. you laid your head onto your pillow, holding your phone up to spot a new notification from seulgi. “oh, the picture.” you thought aloud.

   swiping up to see what she’d sent, a photo of a smiley seyoung, face covered in pasta sauce, greeted you, noodles laying across her face and being gripped in her small hands. it made you smile, seeing how happy your baby girl was. a second picture accompanied it, showing seulgi with a tomato sauce baby handprint on her left cheek, her and seyoung making silly faces.

   you put your phone to charge next to you, happy that your night — or day, rather — had ended on such a happy note. you felt yourself letting go of the ‘family’ mindset. all the family you needed was right here.

   you groaned in annoyance, the sunlight pouring from your window blinding your eyes as you opened them. adjusting your eyes to your current situation, you felt a huge pressure on your chest, wriggling under whatever was sitting on top of you. “mommy, mommy!” a girl’s voice chirped, shaking your shoulders lightly.

   “seyoung…?” you groaned, lifting your head to find your daughter straddling your stomach, smiling happily at you in her purple iridescent pajamas, the sunlight bouncing off of the sparkles creating a disco ball inside your bedroom.

   “mhm!” she nodded her head furiously. “mommy, it’s time for school. your alarm woke me up, but it didn’t wake you up, so i decided to be mommy’s alarm instead!” seyoung explained, letting herself fall onto the unoccupied pile of blanket next to you.

   shaking the covers loose, you emerged from your bed, bedhead and all. making her leave the room so you could quickly change into something more ‘responsible parent’ ready, you followed your marching daughter to her room, letting her pick out what she wanted to wear.  she twirled stylishly, modeling the new navy blue skirt you bought her, something newly added to her school’s uniform. “you look so pretty, se-se.” you complimented sleepily, chuckling at her playful spirit that could rise so early in the morning. it was something you always admired of your daughter, and you hoped she’d never lose it.

   you laughed happily at your daughter grabbing your wrist in determination and leading you back to your bedroom, where your large master bathroom stood. seyoung always told you how much she liked it in comparison to her bathroom, because in the master bathroom, she could sit on the counter and watch you style her hair from almost every angle. you pulled her up to the counter and brushed her hair, the brush falling gracefully, barely meeting a knot in her hair. knowing how much she enjoys wearing colorful clips with her outfits each day, you paired blue butterfly clips with her navy skirt. she seemed to enjoy this, pointing to the matching accessories with a wide grin on her face.

   “se-se,” you called, tieing your hair into a ponytail and putting a jacket on after putting her cereal on the dining table. “eat your breakfast! mommy has to make sure your teacher doesn’t think she looks silly.”

   seyoung’s giggles erupted from the far end of your house, the sounds of her small footsteps pattering against the hardwood floor approaching you quickly. “okay, mommy!” she bounced when she saw you, pausing for a moment before dashing towards the dining table to eat quickly. you chuckled at your daughter’s seemingly endless amount of excitement, reentering your bathroom to clean yourself up. looking up at your nude face, you sighed, spotting how deep your eye bags had gotten. from the time seyoung was born, caring about your looks became a thing of the past, but now, you’re starting to wonder whether or not you should get back on that self-confidence train. because right now, it looks like that train derailed, and even though it no longer has a path, it keeps on chugging. so, in conclusion, a bad thing’s consequences are finally showing up, and without dealing with that first bad thing, another bad thing is bound to happen. lightly dabbing on some concealer and foundation, you fixed the signs of a mother with ‘parent of the year’ button hanging by a thread. looking at yourself once again, you felt a pot of confidence beginning to bubble in your chest. makeup isn’t necessary and never will be, but sometimes, it’s nice to feel nice.

   “i’m done!” seyoung called, the sound of cluttered dishes in the kitchen sink clattering against each other.

   “be careful!” you warned, worried she may break something and end up hurting herself or damaging something else. fear piling up in your mind as you imagined each and every terrible outcome possible, you rushed towards the living room, just to find a calm seyoung sitting on the couch, her backpack securely attached to her back and her legs dangling from the floor. sighing silently in relief, you adjusted your posture, offering your hand to your daughter. “ready to go?” you smiled brightly as you felt your larger palm engulf her soft hand.

   “seyoungie, i’m meeting your teacher today!” you said happily, eyes darting towards the rear-view mirror to see her mid-drive.

   “really?” she smiled, kicking her legs in excitement. “you’re meeting mr. jeon?” her voice became higher, indicating her exhilaration.

   “mhm!” you nodded, amused at how elated she was at this news. “how’s mr. jeon, anyway? do you like him? is he fun?” you asked, wanting to know what exactly made her so enthusiastic about this specific teacher. in the past, seyoung’s always been excited for school, but never her teachers. she’d go on and on about what drama her seven-year-old classmates would have, but never completely ditch the narrative to talk about a teacher.

   “i really, really like mr. jeon, mommy.” seyoung explained, hugging her lunchbox. “on the first day of school, he gave us all these gummy candies that are supposed to be healthy for us, and gave us an extra one whenever we got the names right in the name game we were playing! he did it so we could get to know everyone in the class. and- and then, he showed us his tangerine points! for every time the class does well on a quiz or something, then we get a tangerine point! if we get ten tangerine points by the end of the year, he said we can have a tangerine party!” she squealed, kicking her legs even faster at the thought of treats — it was one incentive for kids, but something completely different for seyoung. she loves snacks, no matter what it is. if you have celery, and you offer her one, she’ll ask for more until you say no. but, then again, who could say no to such a cute face? “oh! oh! and, he’s a super fun teacher. yeah, he makes math fun. and you know mommy, you know how much i don’t like math.”

   “yes, baby, i know. math is our mortal enemy.” you laughed, finally arriving at her school. you looked over the dashboard, searching for an empty spot to park.

   “there he is!” seyoung yelled, slamming her hands up against the window. “that’s mr. jeon! that’s him!”

   “seyoung! you nearly scared the life out of me!” you gripped your wheel in shock, the loud bang of her palms hitting the glass startling you to a point you didn’t even know she could. thankfully, you’d gotten in the spot safely without hitting anyone in the process.

   “awe, mommy, you missed it! now he’s in the school.” she pout, crossing her arms against her lunchbox.

   you stepped out of your car carefully, taking a deep breath of fresh, outside air to calm your senses. “baby, i know you’re excited about your teacher, but you can’t scare mommy like that. we could’ve gotten hurt, you know, and that wouldn’t be fun. if you get hurt, mommy will be sad, daddy will be sad, mr. jeon will be sad, and so will all your friends!” you pulled seyoung out of her car seat, pulling her bag from the spot next to her and handing it to her.

   “what about yubin auntie?” seyoung asked, looking up at you in wonder, still clutching her lunchbox.

   “yes, also yubin auntie.” you swallowed your anger and nodded, knowing that seyoung’s relationship with ‘yubin auntie’ was much more friendly and less backstabbing than yours. “we’ll all be sad.” the two of you walked into seyoung’s school, seyoung greeting her friends older and younger than her and you earning smiles and waves from those you’re familiar with. she led you to her room quickly, where she opened the door to reveal it.

   the classroom was decorated beautifully, bright colors and fun posters and class supplies adorning the walls. the whiteboard was labeled very neatly, with the tangerine point scoreboard drawn in its own box, embellished with cute magnets that were found across the board as well, mostly being used to hold up pieces of paper. you turned to the wall next to you, which held petite hooks where his students could put their bags, a little name tag above each one in each child’s handwriting, decorated the way they liked. your eyes, flying from decoration to inspirational poster and back to a decoration finally landed on the teacher himself, who was leaning over his desk to what looked like thumb through some papers.

   “mr. jeon!” seyoung called, her teacher’s head immediately turning to see who’d called him over, looking to be near your age. “mr. jeon, good morning!” she waved vigorously.

   “seyoung!” he replied, a dazzling smile cracking across his face. you, now getting a good look at her teacher, now saw why seyoung was so enthusiastic about him. with just one word, you could tell just how devoted he was to each and every one of his students. you could basically see the same excitement in seyoung’s eyes reflected in his own. not to mention, he was insanely attractive — but it’s not like seyoung was old enough to worry about that, yet. “good morning to you, too! how are you?"

   “i'm good!” seyoung piped, waddling over to place her bag on her designated hook. “that’s my mommy!” she motioned to you, mr. jeon’s soft, brown eyes immediately meeting yours.

   “ah, the famous ms. (l/n)!” he smiled, walking closer to you. “seyoung, you can sit down until class starts! i’ll talk to your mom for a little bit.” he asked, nodding towards her seat. you’ve never seen seyoung respond to an order from an adult so quickly. honestly, you were a little jealous. “seyoung is quite the talker, but you wouldn’t believe how much she talks about you. and now, day four into the new school year, i can finally meet you!” he offered his hand to you, you holding it lightly to shake it.

   “oh, that’s so flattering,” you chuckled, glancing down at his hand. huh, no ring. “we’re set up for a four pm parent meeting today? i just wanted to pop in to get to know you and see the classroom seyoung goes on and on about. she talks about you a lot, too.” you complimented.

   “yes, we are! and, i’m so happy to hear seyoung likes me and my class. i remember when i was a student, i had this epiphany: a teacher’s job is to teach because they want to teach, so why not make the students come because they want to learn? so, i build my teaching style around that, but, i make sure i don’t distract them too much with the gifts and games. school’s main purpose is knowledge, right?” he joked, laughing heartily.

   “i'm very happy that seyoung is happy at school. you’re truly making her day. i do have to run now, but i’ll see you later at four, hopefully, to discuss seyoung and more about your class?” you asked, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. fuck, did that make you look uncomfortable? well, you’re always uncomfortable, but it’s not because of him nor this conversation!

  while you were in your state of mild panic, mr. jeon flashed you the same energetic smile he gave seyoung. “of course and of course! i look forward to seeing you again, miss…?” he trailed off, hoping to get your name.

   “(y/n).” you replied, feeling confident, though not understanding why your cheeks felt so hot. “(y/n), seyoung’s mother.” you reiterated, adding a fact about yourself you were most proud of.

   “miss (y/n), seyoung’s mother.” he repeated, his face softening to an understanding look, his lips curling upwards. “until we meet again, miss (y/n)." tag list: 

@ggsmashgg​, @childishbxmbino​

[incorrect-mha-bnha]

Trans Bakugou HC????

His first genuine smile happened after waking up from top surgery to see himself finally weightless after years of drowning. No one would ever forget how bright and alive he seemed as tears fell down his face in the hospital. Kirishima could have sworn to hearing a laugh slip through at one point, but of course that was denied.

Bakugou designed his hero suit to be a cross tank because he assumed his top surgery would have been done by then but sadly, kidnapping and hero bs got in the way. Now he has to wear sports bras under it until the appointment can be booked. Leaving him pissed and just slightly dysphoric out and about which helps aid his sour mood while training.

My poor boy Bakugou has D cups. Pray for him😔...No, but for real. The size of his unfortunate lumps caused a lot of dysphoria while wearing his hero suit. (Going back to the previous bullet) Because of their size, it was a lot harder to bind to satisfactory which led to a lot of methods being used until he just said fuck it and started weight lifting. (For those who don’t know, weight lifting turns breast tissue into muscle and some other cool pectoral shit. I know this because my Ma is a personal trainer.) It shrunk him down a few sizes while building muscle, giving the illusion of pecs so wearing a sports bra was bearable.

Bakugou went through many phases of figuring out who he wanted to be (that’s obvious but I’m not talking about gender wise) in terms of style and personality. He tried different types of styles until one stuck, now he looks like a gremlin in baggy clothes (on occasions). He also went through a makeup phase to try and darken his features.

When Bakugou is really dysphoric, he hunches over and grumbles a lot. Everyone usually stays away, discounting Midoriya and Kirishima. Them being the bravest and brightest always gang up on Bakugou to help bring his spirits and confidence up. Even let him get the anger out with a rough spar.

Bakugou changes in the bathroom of the locker room to avoid invasive eyes (Mineta) or is released 5 minutes early by his teachers to get a head start.

During his pre-top surgery days, Bakugou would wear a baggy shirt into the pool But practically avoided it altogether. The first person to really get him comfortable enough to uncross his arms in the pool, given that they somehow coaxed him in, was Kirishima.

Bakugou was never self conscious about his height, being visited by the height fairy during puberty but his hips and chest? Count them as life ruiners. Baby had so many dysphoria episodes in front of the mirror that he turned into an angry introvert.

T does a lot of shit to your body, one of those being heightening your aggression levels. If Bakugou was already slightly aggressive to begin with, his pleasancey took a nose dive after starting T.

Sigh, back on my KiriBaku bs but anyway. THE FIRST PERSON TO EVER CALL BAKUGOU MANLY WAS KIRISHIMA. AND THAT SHIT HIT DIFFERENTLY.

Uhmmm pro hero Bakuhou starting a fundraiser for trans kids and adults who are homeless, jobless (Aka struggling), in need of support or looking for others like them, searching for clarity, even protection. Bakugou is like the trans Jesus, that is all.

He literally hates what he feels like when someone points out that his mother and him look alike. Yeah, he fucking gets it but is there a need to point it out? Damn.

COMMITS himself to doing regular vocal excersises to lower his voice, even with T. His usual gruff tone is to mask the voice cracks he gets on the hormones, because that would be embarrassing.

When Bakugou got the call that he was going to get top surgery, he literally blew his phone up with so much excitment then burst into tears.

Showers suck- nuff said.

Midoriya was the first person to ever know about Bakugou being trans. So, he started bullying Midoriya into silence but soon realized the boy wouldn’t have uttered a word anyway and simply wanted to help and be there for him. Of course, Bakugou, being young and new to the life change, wanted everyone who had once known him as a girl to be gone. That meant he would try and remove Midoriya from his life for good but the green boy just kept on bouncing back. Imagine his surprise to know the one person with his secret would be attending high school with him. Shit got flipped.

All of the girls carry extra supplies for emergencies. Bakugou does too but sometimes a p*riod (I bleep because it can be a sensitive topic) just pops out of nowhere. It gets him frustrated and embarrassed whenever he isn’t prepared but the girls somehow always know the right timing to whisk him off to help or stealthily stuff some things into his pocket as they cross paths. It’s like a cartel of drugs but the girls are being true friends with pads in the end. Kirishima even got on the bandwagon and started carrying supplies for whoever may need it.

Bakugou refused to wear tampons, shit was a no go.

In the beginning, Bakugou would frequently steal one of the girl’s heating pads whenever the pain got unbearable. They hardly minded but Momo gifted him one as a present. He uses it all the time.

After he came out and became comfortable, Bakugou would joke about donating his lumps to the girls that bitched about being small chested. (We are looking at you Jirou). “Free unfortunate lumps for sale! I don’t want them, take the damn things!”, “Hey! Give me your chest, switch with me!”

Bakugou is a night dweller for many reasons. 1.) Time to not bind and give himself a break while doing stretches. 2.) snacks are Free real estate 3.) It’s easier to not bind while everyone isn’t there to witness him walking to relieve tension.

Bakugou once heard that frequent conception of coffee leads to a decrease in breast size by 0.3 cups. Bakugou ended up consuming so much that he stayed up for a total of 72 hours, almost overdosed, couldn’t sit still, finished everyone’s homework plus his own, deep cleaned the entire dorm and trained until he crashed. Now, he hates the taste of it but swears that his little shits shrunk a whole cup.

Imma say this loudly because it’s my favorite hc mostly because it’s what I do. BAKUGOU HATES WEARING LIGHT COLORS, THE BIGGEST FUCK NO GOS OUT TO WHITE SHIRTS. HE PREFERS TO WEAR DARK COLORS BECAUSE HIS BINDER IS BLACK. THE ONLY REASON HE WEARS HIS UNFORM, BEGRUDGINGLY, IS BECAUSE THE MATERIAL ISNT SEE THROUGH AND IT IS ALSO CRUMPLY. AKA, EASILY COVERS HIM UP BY GOING A SIZE UP.

His waist in snatched thanks to those bitch ass hips.

His first post surgery outfit was a very thin material white shirt because fuck yeah, get a view of his binder less chest under there!

Bakugou wears headphones while going about in public for a few reasons. 1.) He doesn’t like interacting with people and the headphones usually wards them off from bothering him. 2.) Loud music in his ears tends to tune out people misgendering him and transphobes being chucklefucks.

Bakugou got his respect to be called a guy from his family by blatantly ignoring anyone who called him by his deadman and/or used the wrong pronouns. “Bitch, suddenly I can’t hear. I don’t know who you think you are calling.”

Bakugou is very proud of any hair that grows on his body. (Sigh, take that how you wish). Literally prances around the UA grounds showing off even the tineiest hint of a beard, and raves over his growing leg hair.

Bakugou’s favorite movie is Mulan, fight me on that.

Bakugou’s life zeal is Be Trans Throw Hands

More to be added

Part 2

Part 3

[taetaesbitch]

Playing With Fire - Chapter 2 - It’s a fiend thing

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut, Supernatural

Word Count: 1.8k

You can’t stop thinking about that fire dancer, but as you go about your normal life, something seems off, the shadows are closing in...

Chapter 2 - It’s a fiend thing

You’re still thinking about that mysterious fire dancer the next day, as you make your way through town, fantasizing about seeing him again.

“Are you sure you weren’t on drugs?” You raise your eyebrows at your sister’s remark.

“I was so not! He was there. He was a solid being. And then he was… he was just… gone.” You gaze into the distance thinking about those alluring eyes.

“Yeah either you were high or seeing spirits. Nothing else makes sense.” You strike Dot’s arm and she groans in pain.

“Well where were you all night?” When she doesn’t answer, you glance over at her, her face is guilty and she fiddles with a thread on her bag. You let out an exaggerated gasp.

“You weren’t! You weren’t with Seth were you?!” She struggles to keep a straight face before beaming at me.

“What did you two devils get up to?” She smirked before opening her mouth to reply, “Wait, no I don’t want to know.” You link arms and giggle before heading into the market. 

After a productive day, you head home to your riverside townhouse, taking the woodland path. You can’t help but feel like someone is watching you. Shadows lurk at the corner of your vision, and a twig snaps. You spin to face the path behind you, but there is no one there. Your pulse spikes, taking a deep breath, you turn on your heel and walk quickly towards your house. Footsteps sound behind you as you near it. With the dying light and far too many horror movie scenarios playing out in your head, you sprint to your front door. With trembling hands you jam your keys in the lock and twist. Someone grabs your shoulders and says “Raaa!” Causing your heart to sky rocket and you to shriek. Turning to face your housemate, you whack them on the arm, frowning.

“You scared the shit out of me!” Your breathing is ragged. Your housemate, Sabrina, doubles over laughing. “You think this is funny? I could have had a heart attack!”

“It was worth it!” You scowl at her before smiling, relieved that it was her and not some serial killer. 

“Blue today?” She touches her spiky blue hair.

“Yeah, aquamarine if you want to be specific.” She grins.

“It suits you. Why are you out here anyway? You’re usually home an hour before me.” 

“Oh, I think I lost my keys on the way home, I can’t find them so I’ve been waiting for you to come home.” 

“Huh, well come on, lets order take out.”

“Oo yah!” You shut the front door and ensure it’s locked. 

“(Y/N).” A seductive voice whispers, “(Y/N).” Dark eyes peer into yours from the shadows. Invisible hands grab your body and spin you into flame. You cry out but pass right through unharmed, as if it were just air. The voice chuckles and tuts, before laying you down on that flame. A figure looms over you, lustful eyes attached to it, that dark skin and playful smirk. Leaning down, he brushes his lips over yours, the shadows consuming you. 

A rush of growing whispers startle you awake, you sit upright in bed, gulping down air. Alarmingly turned on and shaken. You swear you hear a distant chuckle as you look out the window at the rising sun. 

“Woah woah (Y/N), it’s just me!” That voice! You become still in his arms, glancing down at his wrists, tattoos! He turns you to face him. 

It’s club night and you get dressed into your silky red dress, before leaving with your sister and Sabrina. As the night goes on, alcohol overtakes your senses and you are lost to the music. You feel eyes on you, you dismiss it as the people in the club, but this stare feels much more intense. At one point you swear you see your fire dancer, but in a blink he’s gone, you must be hallucinating. It must be the alcohol in your system. Eventually the night is over, the alcohol has worn off and you head home. Sabrina gets off with a guy and promises to be home later so you have to leave the door unlocked, and your sister left earlier with Seth. Deciding not to get a taxi because your bank account is wounded enough as it is, you take the short route home, along the woodland path. It’s eerily quiet as you walk cautiously along, every small noise alerts you and makes you shiver with uncanny fear. You come to a dead stop. A figure emerges along the path in front of you. Every nerve in your body is telling you to run. It’s nobody. You think. Just someone taking a late night walk. Yeah right, at 3 O’clock in the morning?! That’s psychopath hour! Your breath comes in sharp pants. You start walking again, as you near, the physique definitely tells you it’s a man. He comes to a halt a few metres ahead of you. Wisps of Shadow? Swirl around him. He whispers something faint. You turn and run, sprinting off the path and into the trees, discarding your heels in the process. Oh god, oh god, oh god! His heavy footsteps sound behind you, closer than you realise. I am so dead. There’s no way I can outrun him, especially in this dress. Strong hands jerk your body back into a solid chest. You scream out. Thrashing in his grip, “Let me go!”

“Y-you.” Your eyes collide with his and an instant calm washes over you, but is soon replaced by building rage. “You. How dare you do that! What are you playing at?! I thought you were some sort of sadistic killer.” 

“Who says I’m not?” 

You halt, body tensing, before backing away out of his reach. He chuckles, “I’m only kidding.” You’re not sure if he is. His face drops, becoming sincere and his voice softens. “I’m sorry if I scared you.” You take a deep breath.

“No it’s ok, I was just- ” Your mind becomes foggy, shadows lingering around you, you feel light headed.

“Just what?” His voice sends your hormones raging, your body feels like it’s on fire as you step into his warmth.

“Who are you?” Your eyes narrow, you don’t even know his name.

“I’m Jungkook.” He grins.

“What are you?” His grin falters but doesn’t fall.

“I’m a person.” Your head lightens again, becoming fuzzy with lust. You fix your eyes on his lips, which look deliciously inviting. 

“How do you just appear?” 

He hesitates, “It’s a fiend thing.”

“What do you want?” You stand on your tiptoes, lips hovering dangerously close to his lips.

“Right now?” His gaze grows heavy lidded and… hungry, as he licks his lips, “I want to fuck you against a tree.” Your lips brush his, before you pull away completely, and back into a tree. “Wicked thing you.” He slowly steps towards you. “Did you enjoy our dance on Bonfire night?”

“It was…” You tilt your head, trying to find the right word, “Interesting.” He scoffs, stepping so close that his breath ruffles your hair.

“Just interesting? I thought it was more…” His head tilts up to the sky, exposing a defined neck that makes your pulse flutter. He looks down at you, like a predator sizing up his prey, “Lascivious... exhilarating even.” Your heartbeat quickens as he leans down, pausing only for a moment, giving you a chance to refuse, “You’re little dress is making me feel like that right now.” You allow his lips to close over yours and you melt. His hand moves to clasp your neck, as his tongue swipes out over your lower lip, asking for entry, you grant it. The sensation as he slips into your mouth weakens your knees, his hands shoot out to grip your hips, pinning you against the tree. You groan into his mouth as his leg parts your thighs. He licks and sucks over your jaw and down your neck, causing you to grind onto him, your nails digging into his shoulders. “That’s so fucking hot.” He growls onto your neck, making you grind harder and eliciting a moan. His fingers move to grip your dress, before shredding the top of it. You gasp, excited by his roughness and shocked at his strength. His eyes glitter at your exposed breasts, nipples perked, lowering his head he sucks one in before you can protest. His mouth is a shock, hot and burning, making your nerve endings stand on edge. Releasing your nipple with a popping sound, he circles it with his tongue before licking the swollen point. His tongue is rough, like a cats, causing your body to jerk back and your centre to press into his now prominent bulge. He chuckles before moving to your other nipple and glancing up to watch your expression. You squirm and whimper until he releases that one too, his lips meet yours briefly before his hands slide up your thighs. The skin on skin contact sends tingling sensations to your core, a strong longing takes over and you lift the dress off yourself, before reaching out to him. He clasps your wrists, looking deep into your eyes, nose to nose, “Eager are we?” The comment makes your cheeks flush red, his eyes survey your body, making you blush even more and you lower your eyes. Suddenly self conscious you cross your arms over your abdomen. He grabs those arms and grasps your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his and startling you. His eyes look like molten lava flowing through dark rock, shadowed in the corners, with streams of orange light crackling through. “Don’t - ever - hide yourself from me.” His ferocity turns you on, but you’re still gobsmacked by the eyes. You blink and they’re back to the dark shade they were before. That is not normal. Maybe I imagined it. You think.

“I-I’m sorry.” His grip softens at your voice and he begins to trail his hands down your body, raising goose bumps on your skin, before cupping your throbbing pussy. You jump at the sudden pressure, but as his fingers slip through your wetness, you find yourself arching into him, head lolling back against the tree at the motion.

His breath caresses your neck as he whispers in a sultry voice, “I like your eagerness. It makes what I’m about to do torture for you.” He gives you a devilish smirk before kneeling, tugging your red silk thong down with him. You yelp as he hoists your legs over his shoulders, and as his mouth meets your clit, a fire ignites in your core and you scream in ecstasy.

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

Not related to 19 days so you don't have to answer. but I'm curious to know what are your thoughts on given specifically about akihiko&ugets "relationship" and how they still were having that "relationship" even after the initial break up in highschool. and how it completely ended in chapter27. i think that it was heartbreaking but at the same time it was needed? If that makes sense

Good evening, dear anon-san! (_ _)

I’m so sorry I have kept you waiting this long. I needed to catch up on the manga to answer your question and then my inbox got suddenly filled with 19 Days asks and I thought I would go through a couple of them first. Again, I apologize for the wait. Thank you for your patience! (_ _) Also, I don’t mind questions about other stories than 19 Days at all! This was very refreshing and exciting.

My thoughts on Given and AkiUgetsu

I absolutely loved Given. I have read a lot of yaoi and shounen-ai works but I would have to say Given is the best BL I have come across. (The very close second would probably be Hodokeru Kaibutsu and Hadakeru Kaibutsu by  Ogeretsu Tanaka.) Given’s characters and relationships are complex, the development is well-paced and realistic, the premise is unique, and all of that is wrapped nicely in the blanket theme of music. The anime adaptation was great, too, and Mafuyu’s song ripped my poor heart to shreds.

Perhaps not surprisingly given my track record of the type of characters I tend to fall in love with, Ugetsu immediately became my favorite character. He was dark and a little twisted, insanely talented, beautiful and sensual. To me, Ugetsu was and still is the most complex and interesting character in Given. Also, as soon as it was clear his and Akihiko’s relationship status was very much in the realm of “it’s complicated”, AkiUgetsu became my OTP. I was instantly drawn to them as a couple. They stroked my need for dark, twisted, complicated, and dysfunctional so good.

My thoughts on the AkiUgetsu development

I think Akihiiko and Ugetsu’s relationship was sparked under unfortunate signs and was doomed to fail from the get-go. Mentally it was painful and violent right from the start.

Akihiko’s love was entwined with his envy for Ugetsu. He was drawn to Ugetsu but at the same time resented him. When faced by Ugetsu’s mass of prodigy talent, Akihiko felt defeated and gave up on the violin despite being fairly confident in his music prior to that. He loved Ugetsu and cared about him, but that love made him give up on his dreams and run away from challenges. Gradually, he lost sight of his passion for music. Even if the love was real for both of them, that is not the kind of foundation that could carry a happy relationship.

Ugetsu saw Akihiko slowly but surely lose his motivation and passion, too. I’m sure he just didn’t know what was causing it and he didn’t know how to help him.

He wanted to find a trigger that would spark a change in Akihiko and return him to how Ugetsu remembered him in the beginning. The thing is, though, I don’t think Ugetsu is a comforting character. He’s not the type who would stand in the sidelines cheering for Akihiko or have a heart-to-heart about his lost motivation. Akihiko’s attitude bothered him and made him sad but to me, it always looked like he didn’t think it was up to him to raise Akihiko’s spirits. No one but Akihiko himself could rekindle his passion and find the drive to improve. He didn’t want to see Akihiko’s half-hearted efforts and was pretty open about it. I’ve always felt like he thought Akihiko was settling for less and on some level, he looked down on Akihiko for playing the drums in a band.

What makes Ugetsu’s position heartbreaking is that I don’t think he saw it was him and their relationship that ultimately snuffed out Akihiko’s passion. Or that it was his talent that had planted that seed from the beginning. At least not in so many words. He came to realize the change and what had probably triggered it at the second live performance. Akihiko had found his new trigger and he had found it somewhere else than with Ugetsu. I don’t think any of that was Ugetsu’s fault, though. It wasn’t his fault that Akihiko gave up. Their relationship was just doomed from the beginning.

I think their first break-up in high school was what made Ugetsu’s such an interesting character to me. It spoke volumes of how complicated of a person he was. I think being in control and keeping a distance around himself is very important to Ugetsu. 

When Akihiko bought the mug and moved in, he breached Ugetsu’s sense of space and control. I’m sure his reaction to Akihiko’s gift surprised both of them, and Ugetsu felt bad for shattering the mug. It looked like his heart was torn in two directions. Later on, he got used to Akihiko’s presence, but I think the mug incident was a sign that Ugetsu needed the feeling of having a tight grip on his own priorities. He loved Akihiko but…

…his love for Akihiko ultimately distracted his love for music. Creating and playing music was who Ugetsu was as a person. It consumed him as a whole and having that kind of single-track mind was Ugetsu’s lifeline. Anything or anyone disturbing it made him feel uneasy and like he wasn’t in control of his own feelings and freedom anymore. Because he loved Akihiko, he became something Ugetsu started to chase instead of music. Ugetsu chases big emotions in his music but his love for Akihiko was threatening to come in the way of that by occupying his mind with something else.

I don’t know if I’m projecting too much but I resonate with that feeling. When I get into something, it quickly becomes my passion and drives my ambitions. I become obsessed and consumed and feel like other interests threaten my relationship with that special thing. They threaten my sense of “control”, so I push them away. I make a choice to not follow some other paths next to what I’m interested in, and I feel like that was going on with Ugetsu when he decided to break up with Akihiko the first time. That, and he could see Akihiko’s passion for music slowly withering away next to him.

But instead of separating completely, they stayed as “roommates” and fell into this back-and-forth of a relationship that was painful for both of them. Neither of them was able to pull the plug on their relationship. They were unable to let go but hurt each other by staying together.

They weren’t just roommates even after breaking up. Their relationship had become stale and repetitive - a painful cycle of both their good and bad times going around over and over again. After being apart for a while, they reminisced what they loved about each other but soon after, Ugetsu would find a new man which painfully crashed Akihiko back to earth. It was like breaking up a hundred times instead of just once.

It seemed they also had sex occasionally after breaking up. Another thing that further complicated things.

I think the sex between them as “roommates” took a rather dark tone. Sex was about power and territory and a way for Akihiko to take his frustration out on something. As Ugetsu kept trying to push Akihiko away by sleeping with other guys, Akihiko had the growing need to assert his status and reclaim Ugetsu via sex. Seeing Ugetsu with others was painful, and the more it hurt, the more he tried to cling onto Ugetsu physically. And Ugetsu let him.

Before long, though, this whole cycle became suffocating for Akihiko. The place he had once cherished and felt like he belonged to had become a pit he couldn’t climb out of. He couldn’t get out and nothing from the outside could get in.

Again, I’m not blaming either of them for that. Or if I did, I would say they’re both guilty. Neither of them was able to take the final step despite seeing how much they were making each other suffer. Overall, AkiUgetsu has beautiful parallels to how Mafuyu was (and still is) struggling with letting go of Yuki’s ghost and moving on with the precious memories still in his heart.

As someone who loves Ugetsu to death, the buildup that eventually led to their final break-up was probably the most heartbreaking part for me. Firstly, there was the time Ugetsu waited for Akihiko to come home.

How distracted and pained Ugetsu was by Akihiko’s absence spoke volumes of how close to Ugetsu’s heart Akihiko had managed to nestle over the years. Despite their first break-up, he loved Akihiko to death, and to finally come face-to-face with the possibility that Akihiko wouldn’t come back must have felt like dying. Akihiko had seen parts of him that no one had probably ever seen before, and every one of those parts Akihiko had touched must have hurt.

I must admit, watching Ugetsu in so much pain while Akihiko was having fun with Haruki made me…angry. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Akihiko is the one needing to be saved and was helped by Haruki while Ugetsu had no one to catch him. It wasn’t fair that Ugetsu had become this suffocating thing for Akihiko despite loving him and someone Akihiko needed to get away from. So yeah, I was angry and bitter.

However, I want to stress that it was only because my heart was aching for Ugetsu. I don’t hate Akihiko for trying to break free from his suffocating pit and finding someone who can restore his breathing. I don’t hate him for wanting to see the fireworks again. I’ve been in his position in real life and know how freeing that time with Haruki must have felt. It was something he needed to do for himself. My frustration stems purely from my own bias for Ugetsu and how I relate to him. I don’t hate Akihiko, Haruki, AkiHaru, or think the author somehow wronged the characters. I think it was rather realistic how it all went down.

What broke my heart for Ugetsu the most was that he was essentially left behind. I always feel for those kinds of characters. Despite waiting for Akihiko to finally leave, Ugetsu still panics when Akihiko tells him he’s going to move out.

Ugetsu had tried to leave Akihiko many times and been waiting for him to let go of Ugetsu. But when the time finally came, it was as if Ugetsu’s instincts kicked in and he lashed out. He wanted to stop hurting Akihiko but not being with him hurt even more because it was a sudden surge of pain instead of a steady undertone, so his knee-jerk reaction was to protect himself from that. And it was painful to come to realize that Akihiko was the one walking away. He had found something outside their basement apartment that was giving him the courage to leave Ugetsu. I’m sure it all - the good and bad of their relationship - wrapped together in Ugetsu’s head, and to him, it felt like Akihiko was also walking away from how much he loved Ugetsu. It hurt, and he didn’t want to hear it. It was him about getting mad at the person finally doing something they both knew had to be done.

Before I continue, I want to thank you, dear anon-san. I had been putting off reading the chapter about their final teary goodbyes for the longest time, but your ask finally gave me the push to get it over with. I had always known they were going to break up and I had seen panels of it floating around, but that part had always been an emotionally wrecking hump in Given that I’ve been avoiding. So, thank you for ripping off the bandaid for me.

To my surprise, their goodbyes weren’t as painful as I had dreaded. It hurt my soul but it was painful in a different way than I had expected.

I could feel Ugetsu’s pain and bitterness in my teeth but also - and perhaps a bit surprisingly - Akihiko’s comfort for him despite what they were going through. He didn’t want Ugetsu to think that while Akihiko was walking away from him, it meant he hadn’t loved Ugetsu from the bottom of his heart. He had. He admired Ugetsu and cared about him, but their relationship was also partly why Akihiko’s own drive for music had been fading out. Akihiko had loved the violin more than anything and poured a lot of effort into it. And even though he was now playing a different instrument, he was never going to forget the violin or let that spark and passion, now rekindled, die out. He was going to keep at the violin but it was going to be to a different tune.

I think that’s comforting. I didn’t have the feeling of left behind for Ugetsu as strong in my heart anymore. Ugetsu’s love wasn’t poison but something that had made Akihiko very happy in the past. 

I also think it was very telling how Ugetsu still turned around to reach for Akihiko in the end.

It was that hard for him to let him go. Ugetsu feels big and deep, and his love for Akihiko was no different. I’ve always been grateful for Mafuyu and Ugetsu’s bonding. How Mafuyu had managed to affect Ugetsu was no doubt a big comfort in the turmoil of Akihiko leaving him. New dawns were breaking for both Ugetsu and Mafuyu, and it was scary and painful for both of them.

I was also comforted by how despite the pain AkiUgetsu had gone through, there had always been “music”. It had surrounded them in the enclosed cocoon of the basement apartment and allowed them to be just for each other. Over the years, it had soaked in all their good times, memories, and their love for each other. And after Akihiko left, Ugetsu wished that the music alone would always remain in the house.

In conclusion, despite how much I ship AkiUgetsu, I would agree that their break-up made sense and was needed in the story. They were both unhappy in the relationship, and I don’t know if there would ever have been a way to make them happy and content with each other. I believe they loved each other and they had a lot of happy times, but they were kind of heading towards a dead-end from the beginning. If Akihiko’s reaction to Ugetsu’s talent had been different or if they had found a solution by communication about their problems, they could have perhaps stayed together. But I don’t know if any of those changes in characters would have been possible while they were still around each other.

And yet, I ship them. I ship them to hell and back. They are very much my jam. I love Ugetsu’s sensual darkness and him being a little mischievous and twisted. I love how big his emotions are and the contrast they create with his seemingly distant and hard-to-approach demeanor. I would kill human people for his genuine smile. I love Akihiko’s big build and rough appearances. I love his possessiveness and strength. I love how Ugetsu gets under his skin sometimes. I love how he can be both gentle and forceful with Ugetsu. I love how he’s made Ugetsu feel like he can trust Akihiko. I love the angst of them loving each but also kind of bringing out the worst in each other. I love them creating their own little world in that basement where it’s only them and music.

I just love them. Also, I can’t wait for the movie to come out so I can have my AkiUgetsu heart ripped out of my chest in animation.

Thank you for your question, dear anon-san! (_ _) I hope it was worth the wait.

[petri808]

A Little Help From Beyond

@krbkmonth2020 on Twitter. 

Kiribaku Ghost Prompt. Warning character death, misunderstandings, pining, happy ending I promise.

“Deku you fucking dumb son of a bastard!!!” Bakugou cradles the dying man tight to his chest with his head pressed against his face. His teeth gnashed and gritted, eyes squeezed tight against the truth that his childhood friend was bleeding out in his arms. Tears stream down his cheeks, a visible waterfall breaching his mask. “You’re not supposed to die!” They were Twin stars of the pro world! Rivals till the end who could push each other to achieve only greater and greater heights! “What the fuck am I supposed to do now!!”

“S—Sorry… Kacch—an…” Midoriya squeezes Bakugou’s hand with what little strength he has left. “You shine for us both now…”

The second Midoriya closes his eyes for the last time, a brilliant flash starting from his hand quickly envelops Bakugou’s. A surge of energy rips through the blonde’s body and he instantly knows exactly what just took place. “No! No, fucking no!” He shakes the limp body. “Fuck you! I don’t want this! Damn it!” He collapses on top of his friend, gripping to the torn green costume. “Damn it Deku! I-I don’t deserve this…”

Time dragged on from that moment for Bakugou like a movie that wouldn’t end. Day after day, week after week. Every night his dreams replaying the events that took his friend’s life and the guilt tore through his psyche, leaving him an empty shell. He didn’t even want to go to the funeral because that… that would have made this final, and he didn’t want to accept that Midoriya was gone. But his friends dragged him to it. You need the closure Katsuki. You need to process what happened, so it doesn’t destroy you. News flash, it already was.

So, he pushed everyone away after that. If anyone showed up at his apartment, he would rage at them through the door until they left. Any villain that crossed his path paid dearly regardless of their crime, because it was the only way he could release the building anger and pain. All his life, Midoriya was there and no matter how much the guy could get on his nerves, he’d never imagined a time he wouldn’t be around. And now, when they’d finally found their balance… he’s gone.  

After a month, the only person brave enough to keep trying was Kirishima. It was a choice to stay close because he could understand why the man felt broken. If he lost Bakugou he’d probably feel lost too.  

“Come on Katsuki, just open the door and let me in.”

“No. I told you I’m fucking fine and I don’t wanna talk to anybody!”

Kirishima rests his head against the door, uncaring if anyone passing through the apartment hallway found it odd. It killed him that this strong, proud man was slipping into a deep depression. He assumed one reason was a survivor’s guilt for living through a fight that cost Midoriya his life. But the other was more personal, and probably the biggest struggle of all to get past.

Throughout UA he’d watched the two men battle, heard the stories of their childhood, could see that despite the rough treatment, Bakugou cared deeply for his old friend, and he wondered if there was an unrequited aspect hidden beneath the surface. Did one or the other possibly…    

“You can’t lie to me, man. I know you’re not.”

“I said Fuck off shitty hair!!”

Inside the apartment, Kirishima can hear the music cranked up to tune him out. He sighs and closes his eyes, placing a hand against the smooth wooden surface of the door. “I can love you like Deku,” he whispers as the tears pool behind his eyelids, “if you just let me in too.”

All through high school and into their adult years, their friendship grew. Somehow, he’d wormed his way into the hot heads inner circle while everyone else were called extras. But there was always one other person that meant more to the blonde and that was Midoriya. Even dead he was still rival’s with the man.

He shakes his head. It didn’t matter now. There’s nothing he can do about Midoriya, but he’ll be damned if he’ll let Bakugou lose himself over it. It was devastating, he understood that, Deku was his friend too. But now it was important to take care of the living. Broken hearted and dejected, he walks away, swiping at the few tears that broke free. But he’ll be back tomorrow to try again.

Off to the side, watching this scene unfold, Midoriya floats out of the way as the sullen redhead walks past his conscious spirit. It’s been almost five weeks since he’d died, and it was frustrating being stuck watching the people he knew falling apart over it. Bakugou was the worst, but what he’d just heard Kirishima say blindsided him. To a living human, his words were spoken so quietly that even if they’d been standing next to the man, they wouldn’t have heard anything more than a mumble. But he did, loud and clear. Eijiro Kirishima was in love with Katsuki Bakugou!

“Wait, but does he think I had, or we were!” He’d grown up with Bakugou, but he wasn’t in love with the man!! Wow, he never thought anyone would make such a leap in terms of their friendship! But it was cute to know someone loves and cares for his friend. Midoriya shelves those thoughts away for now and disappears through the door to check on the blonde.  

What he finds is a darkened room with the blinds drawn and his old friend sitting on the couch with his head hung low. If he could produce tears, they would fill his eyes. It was a heartrending sight. He moves over and kneels in front of the blonde, reaching out to place his hand on the man’s knee. It goes through as it always does, so he retracts his clenched hand in anger, closes his eyes, and screams. “Argh!! This sucks!!”

All the sadness and frustration rages outward in a surge of energy from his unheard scream. If he’d been alive tenants two doors down would have heard it. When he opens his eyes, Bakugou is staring straight at him with a confused expression. Wait, what?! He waves his hand in front of the man but gets no reaction. Okay, no, he didn’t see him, so did he hear the scream? He tests this theory, screaming at the top of his lungs; still no reaction.

Growing frustrated, Midoriya stands up and starts pacing back and forth in front of the couch. He puts his analytical mind to work, but he didn’t understand what just took place. “It was probably just a fluke. Kacchan looked up just to look up. Argh, this sucks!!” He kicks through the coffee table in a fit. “I don’t know anything about being a ghost!!”

“Deku?”

Midoriya whips his head back around to see Bakugou with his hands cradling the sides of his face, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

“Stupid, Deku’s dead dumbass, that couldn’t be his voice. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m fucking losing my mind!”

“He heard me?!” Midoriya tries to reach out and grab the man’s shoulder, “Kacchan! I’m here!” But it slips through the man’s body. Pissed off, he swipes his hand at the man’s body over and over, desperately trying to make contact. “Fucking damn it! Just let me comfort him!” He screams at the air.

Bakugou flinches and gasps. He looks around, confused. The windows were closed, yet he swore it felt like a burst of wind just hit him. Okay, now he was getting creeped out. First, he thought he’d heard his dead friend and now a ghostly wind? He runs his hand over his face, “maybe its sleep deprivation,” he rationalizes to himself since he hasn’t had a good night sleep in over a month. He stands up and walks away towards his bedroom.

As he watches Bakugou leave the room, Midoriya stares down at his hands, wide-eyed. It was like his quirk! If he could learn to control this energy, that might be the key because each time his friend sensed something, it was when his energy surged. “Woo hoo!!” He pumps his fists in the air. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with this newly found power.

He follows Bakugou to the bedroom and sees the blonde writing in a notebook. When he’s finished, places it on a nightstand then goes to the bathroom. Midoriya funnels as much energy as he can into his hand and miraculously, he’s able to turn the pages. Awesome! He was getting a small handle on this ability.

It was a journal! He never knew the man kept a journal! But the more he read, the deeper his heart sunk. It was filled with regret and anger, of not treating him better when he was alive, not saving him in the end, of not realizing how important he really was. Bakugou felt he didn’t deserve to be given OFA… “Oh, Kacchan,”he looks over at the closed bathroom door. OFA had accepted him once before because he was worthy of it. But the worst part was, the man felt all alone. “But you’re not alone.”

When he hears the turn of the bathroom doorknob, Midoriya backs away so he doesn’t scare Bakugou with the page turning. The blonde skulks over to his bed and just drops onto it like a sack of potatoes, quickly turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over his head. He swore he heard soft sobbing sounds coming from the man. And that’s the last nail that shatters his heart. Bakugou wasn’t a crier.

He’d always looked up to the Bakugou as the strong one, able to deal with anything thrown at him. And while the death of a friend or even a parent is devastating, it frankly surprised Midoriya that it would become so all-consuming for him. ‘I never realized how much I’d really meant to him.’ But now he did, and he needed to make sure the blonde got through this.  

Midoriya leaves via the window and heads to Kirishima’s home. He needed to check on the man and wanted to make sure he wouldn’t give up on Bakugou either. But when he arrives, he’s was already asleep. So, he sits on the edge of the bed and practices affecting their corporeal world.

Using the same techniques, he’d used in life to gain control over the power of OFA, Midoriya channels energy into his hand and places it over Kirishima’s. The sleeping male gasps lightly but doesn’t wake up. That’s a start. He concentrates to keep the hold strong. “Kiri?” He asks quietly, “Can you hear me?”

“Izuku? Whoa, why are you here?!”

The man’s eyes stay closed, and he doesn’t appear to be awake. But clearly, he was hearing him and responding to it. Like sleep talking. Perfect, that works.  

“I wanted to check on you Kiri and tell you not to give up on Kacchan.”

He sees Kirishima’s brows furrow. “I’d never give up on him.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Tell me, do you love him Kiri?”

“Yes, but he loves you not me and you love him too. I can’t get in the way of that.”

“Kiri, Kacchan doesn’t love me like that and neither did I.”

“But he’s so upset over your death. He must love you.”

“Oh Kiri, he’s upset because of guilt. We grew up together, and it just hit him hard that for the first time in 20 years he must face this world without me around.”

“That’s true…”

“So now more than ever he needs you, Kiri. Kacchan needs someone to turn to who’ll never give up on him.”

“I can do that.”

“One last thing. It’s hard for Kacchan to talk about his feelings. The more you push, the more he’ll back away.”

There’s a long pause before the man responds. His brows furrow as if deep in thought, but Kirishima eventually lets out a long exhale. “Okay. You know him best, so I’ll do as you suggest.”

Midoriya places his free hand over his friend’s forehead. “You sleep now and thank you for taking care of him for me.”

“Goodbye Izuku.”

“Goodbye Eijiro.”

When Midoriya releases his hand, the man slips back into a more relaxed sleep. The harrowed look on his face replaced by a small smile, as if it had lifted a great weight from his shoulders. Kirishima wasn’t out of the woods yet regarding Bakugou, but at least now he could move forward without thinking he was interfering in something that never existed.

With one last look at the sleeping male, Midoriya hoped for the best and leaves to go back to Bakugou’s apartment. Of all the places he could have been pulled back to after he died, not his own apartment, his mother’s home, even the UA campus, it was here and he’s finally understanding why. There was still one last unfinished business to be tended to.  

And now that he knew he could reach the living in their sleep he could try to talk to his childhood friend… But as he sat on the edge of the blondes bed, watching the restless man, he debated whether he should. It would probably be best to let someone amongst the living help him because they would have to continue the work. Yet this was his old friend and he couldn’t stand by and just observe.

With a hand placed on Bakugou’s chest, he pushes his energy at the man. No talking, just emotions. In life he’d always been a positive person, and so he uses those same emotions to influence his friend now from the other side. Midoriya watches on tentatively, first seeing the man stiffen up, then his body slowly relax. It was working. A soft sigh escapes the sleeping male along with one tear. It wasn’t much and hopefully just the small sense of Midoriya’s presence would be enough to calm the blonde for the rest of his slumber.

He smiles and releases his hold on the man. “It’s gonna be okay Kacchan. I promise…”

The next morning, Bakugou awakens more rested than he’s had in weeks, which was odd since he swore, he’d felt like shit when he’d gone to bed. Come to think of it, the scant memories of his dream were of happier times instead of reliving his friend’s death, and it even felt as if Midoriya was there in the room with him. ‘No,’ he shakes his head, ‘it’s cause you were hallucinating last night, idiot.’

When he looks at the clock, he realizes he’d overslept, which was highly unusual for him. The time read 10 am, but because he’d drawn the blackout curtains, the sunlight never alerted him. Oh well, it was his day off, anyway.

A knock at his front door drags him out of bed. Really?! He growls as he stomps to the door. If it was Kirishima again here to beg him to talk, he swore to holy hell he would beat the fuck out of the man. He was tired of everyone trying to force him into talking!

“Katsuki? You up man?”

“What the fuck do you want now Eiji?!”

Kirishima takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. “I just want to apologize f-for pushing you too hard. I get it, okay, you’re not ready to talk yet but when you are, just know, I’ll always be here for you Katsuki.” He stops there, waiting to see if the man will respond, but after a couple minutes of dead silence, it’s clear there wouldn’t be any. He’s crestfallen. But at least the man wasn’t yelling at him which was a start. “Okay, I’ll be going now. See you around, man.”

On the other side of the door, Bakugou listened to the words coming from his friend. It was a complete turnaround from the night before and frankly surprised him a bit. No, he wasn’t ready to talk yet, but he pleased that Kirishima finally recognized it. Don’t get him wrong, he appreciated their concerns, he just wanted to deal with things on his terms.

And of all of their motley crew, Kirishima would have been the only one he would talk to when that time came. His feelings for the redhead were still a little confusing. Well, to be honest with himself, he wasn’t sure where his heart had been swinging before all of this had happened. But one thing was for certain, he could always rely on Kirishima.      

“Wait, Eiji…” He cracks the door open enough to see the man a few steps away but turned back to look at him. “If you agree not to talk about it, you can come in.”

The redhead smiles with relief and holds up a hand, “I won’t.” This was a step in the right direction, and he wasn’t about to ruin it. ‘Thank you Izuku.’ Whether the dream was wishful thinking or something else, he’s glad he’d had it.

Midoriya watches the apartment door close behind them. A tingling sensation washes over him and his body slowly disappears. He smiles, his job is done. Bakugou needs to let him go before his soul can be at peace and this is his confirmation that the man is on the road to recovery. One day he’ll see his friend again, but it was Kirishima’s turn now, and he knew the redhead wouldn’t let him down.

Over the next few days, Kirishima keeps to his promise never bringing up Midoriya’s death or even the man in general. He could tell Bakugou was still fighting with himself internally, but at least he wasn’t locking himself away alone in the apartment. After the workday was over, he dropped by, sometimes brining dinner with him, at other times Bakugou cooking. Oh, how he missed his best friends cooking! Just by looking at the blonde, you’d never think he’d be a whiz in the kitchen, but his meals were always perfectly prepared.

Things almost felt back to normal in these moments. Their conversations revolving around the usual. Dealing with villains, their families, and what their other friends were up to. Anything that could distract from sadder topics. Kirishima didn’t care how long it would take to get Bakugou through this event, but he was ready and willing to do whatever it takes.

He let Bakugou prompt or direct conversations most of the time. It was safer that way then to tread into a topic that might trigger a bad memory. But one of their favorite things to do was simply sit on the couch and quietly watch movies together. For as loud as the blonde could be, he wasn’t much of a talker anyways.

The night started off no differently than the last three before it. Kirishima arrived around 6 pm and Bakugou had cooked dinner. The blonde knew his friend was off the next day, so he decided it was time to get a few things off of his chest. He’d agonized over this for far too long and finally realized he’d never get over Midoriya’s death by holding everything in.

It had started the morning he’d woken up for the first time in a month without a nightmare. His brain told him he was imagining things, but his heart had felt Midoriya’s presence around the night before. A soothing presence and the unmistakable comfort only the childhood friend could provide. Maybe it was because of this turn around that he’d let Kirishima in that day, but whatever it was, it had been the start of his healing process.

“What should we watch tonight,” Kirishima asks with the remote poised in his hand. “Action, horror, or comedy?”

Without looking up from the floor, Bakugou reaches over and lowers the man’s hand slowly. “I rather just talk, if that’s okay?” Though he needed to address the main issue at some point, there was another reason he needed to get off his chest first.

Kirishima puts the remote down. “Of course. What do you want to talk about?” Expecting it to be about Midoriya, he made sure to give Bakugou his undivided attention.

“Did you notice anything different about my quirk today?” Since the day Midoriya died, he’d been careful not to reveal what had happened. But in his stress with the villain, his control had faltered.

“Not really, but I couldn’t watch you the entire time.”

Bakugou sighs, “you gotta promise me never to reveal what I’m about to tell you.” He turns and looks at the man. “No one can know I told you Eiji, absolutely no one.”

“Of course, you can trust me Katsuki.”

He looks away again. “Midoriya was actually born quirkless…”

It takes Bakugou approximately 30 minutes to explain the truth about Midoriya, All Might, and the quirk known as One For All. How he’d figured it out and that’s why they brought him into the fold. He brings up the fight with Shigaraki as an example of why it’s so important to keep it a secret. The power of the quirk was one thing, but it’s transferability was another reason. Bakugou explains what happened during the fight with Nine.

“It was the first time Midoriya shared OFA with me.”

“First time?”

Bakugou sighs. “Do you remember a bright flash of light at the time he died?”

“Yeah, but I just thought it was a reflection.”

The blonde shakes his head. “That was OFA transferring to me.” He holds his hands up and stares at them, concentrating to make a bit of electricity spark around them.

Kirishima’s eyes widen. That was not Bakugou’s sparks but looked like Midoriya’s lightning instead!

“I was so angry when it happened! How dare he just give this to me! I don’t deserve it. It should have stayed with him… he should be the one alive wielding this power…”

Despite his shock, Kirishima recovers quickly. “I’m sure he felt you deserved it, or he wouldn’t have given it to you.”

“Yeah… I know. All Might explained to me afterwards that OFA has to accept the person too. You can’t just,” he waves his hand gesturing in the air, “give it to anyone. I think… I was just angry because this is supposed to be Deku’s power, not mine. He deserved it, he earned it, a-and I never did.”

“I think you did.” Kirishima places a hand on his friends shoulder. “Midoriya thought you did, and that should be enough to believe in yourself man. He wouldn’t have given it to you if he thought you couldn’t handle it.”

“But what if I can’t do it justice? I’m not exactly the symbol of peace.”

That makes Kirishima chuckle. “I’m sorry for laughing cause you’re right about that, but it still doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it. Katsuki, you told me he looked up to you all his life as the epitome of a hero next to All Might. So, what if you’re not the bubbly, happy type. What’s important is that you still do what is right.”

“The public is devastated that their symbol is now gone, so am I supposed to take Deku’s place in that role? Gah!” He cradles his face in his hands. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to explain my new-found powers to the public. And if people notice the similarities with Deku, how do I explain it?! I’m so confused, I don’t know what to do. Maybe I should avoid using it…”

“Stop it!”

Kirishima forces Bakugou to look at him, and when he does, the blondes eyes widen at the boldness and fierce gaze staring back.

“Who cares what other people think! The man chose you Katsuki, you, because he felt you are worthy of it. Don’t let him down and hide, cause that’s not the kind of man we came to both love and admire!”

“What the fuck did you just say?!” Bakugou’s mind reels at the man’s words. “Deku didn’t love me, what the fuck are you talking about?!”

“Are you really that blind?! You were his closest friend and no matter how much you bullied him growing up, he never stopped caring about you.” Kirishima sighs. “I’m not talking about romantic love. Midoriya loved you like a brother.”

“And what about you? You said we.”

Oh crap, he forgot he’d made that slip up! Ugh, of course the blonde caught it. Kirishima’s face burns the color of his hair. “I-I mean you are my best friend, s-so I, you know, I care a lot about you too and that means something.”

Bakugou laughs. “You’re such a horrible liar Eijiro.” He then places his hand against the man’s face and smiles. “But while I’m not ready to go there just yet,” he swipes his thumb gently along the skin, “you are growing on me.”

[betterdaysareatoenailaway]

Sleep Tight For Me...I’m Gone

Lately I’ve been writing these Better Days Are A Toenail Away™️ posts in Microsoft Word, selecting all and changing the font to Garamond, which is so readable and beautiful, and posting the Word docs, paragraphs by paragraph, inside these Tumblr drafts. It makes things look nice, to my old fashioned sensibilities, but fixing errors is a time-consuming and needlessly convoluted four-step process.

First, I have to copy, then delete the paragraph containing the error. Then I open the doc. and paste the error-ridden paragraph back into Word. After I find and fix the error, I need to save it and copy and paste it back into the post. It's time-consuming because I’m not just copying a paragraph. As you can see from more recent post, what I copied looked more like a photograph of the paragraph, not the words themselves written in Tumblr’s default font Arial. For an example of this, see below. I like the way it looks like old newspaper clippings. I posted an article about how my fent dealer John Smith kept getting robbed, and had resorted to putting a machete in front of his front door as a way of preventing this, a lever of sorts, which is plainly visible in the video I posted,

So today I’ve given up on trying to make my posts look like books or zines, and have given into the Tumblr font, which is about as pretty as a horse with his snout shot off.

There are two much longer posts I’m working on right now, one about Nirvana and one about Soundgarden, respectively, and how both bands were very unlike their public perception, but those posts are taking a lot of work so I’m putting them on the backburner because today is some dumbass corporation’s day where it tries to synthesize mental health and profit and the end result is as baldly capitalist and clumsy as you would expect. 

I’m not gonna name the company, or repeat their stupid fucking slogan. As far as I can tell (which isn't very far), talking about my trauma has never made me feel better. And in fact it has sometimes made me feel worse, because in telling you what hurts and scares me, I’ve given a part of myself away that I can’t get back. When you’re like me, and you’ve lost everything multiple times, sometimes the only form of power you have is how you choose, or do not choose, to tell your story. And in a world where everybody wants to tell “their truth,” silence is power. 

You don’t get to know me, sorry. I’m not gonna hand you my life, both my bad and good experiences, and conclude: “Welp, that’s why I’m so fucked up. Case closed.” 

Honestly, I used to be a little confused, or miffed that my former partner (who is an amazing person btw, in every respect) almost never spoke about some of the traumatic things she’d experienced in her past. I took it as a sign that she either didn’t trust me, or she didn’t think I would be a sympathetic listener, or the mere fact of my gender precluded her from sharing because I couldn’t truly understand what it was she had gone through. It’s not like I ever asked her to talk about it, but I did say, once or twice, “hey if you ever wanna talk about that stuff, I’m around.” She never took me up on it, and I let it go. 

But as I watched her, and saw her life unfold, over the years we spent together, I began to realize I wasn’t exactly in any position to be telling her how to live her life or how to be mentally healthy. After all, she has found success in a number of avenues, both creative and occupational, and I’ve found neither. I'm not saying the fact that she didn't talk much about her trauma is the reason for her success. I'm saying that she's forged a better path through life than I have, and maybe I should take a cue from that.

She never told me what to do, per se. It was more like living by example. But because I’m pretty dense, and a severe addict, our time together actually sorta reminds me now of that Cornell lyric from his first record: She’s going to change the world. But she can’t change me.

I have certainly found that talking about how shitty my life is only makes me feel more shitty, not free, or unburdened, or better. If you wanna talk about your problems, and you find it helpful, more power to you. Just don’t wait for a corporation to tell you it’s okay to not be okay. 

When Chris Cornell died I was so shocked. Of all the grunge icons he seemed the most stable, and he'd survived the rise and fall of two major label rock bands. If anyone had survived the media machine that chewed up and spat out Staley, Cobain, and to a lesser extent Andrew Wood and Shannon Hoon, it was Cornell. He would be the last guy to support hashtag activism like #StarbucksMyLifeSucks. Chris Cornell actually loved to fuck with the best laid plans of corporate rats. Molson once had a few promotional concerts in Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories, called Molson Canadian Rocks Arctic, with both Hole and Soundgarden playing to a crowd of flown-in grunge fans and bemused locals. But the whole anti-corporate thing grunge was known for actually came through when Courtney Love told the crowd she “use[d] Molson Canadian to douche.” Lol. Here’s a photo of Love arriving in Tuktoyatuk.

Cornell told the same people “so we’re here because of some beer company? Labatt’s?” Both artists’ jabs are funny. Cornell’s was a bit more subtle, but that’s what Cornell was like. 

So today’s post is about Chris Cornell’s suicide, more specifically the media’s reaction to it. For whatever reason, when Cornell died, every single news outlet, from CNN to Fox to CBC, posted “Black Hole Sun,” as if it’s the only song he ever fucking wrote, or – and this is far worse – the only song he wrote that’s worth hearing. The problem with this is more than twofold or threefold. It's fucking hydraheaded. 

Not only is “Black Hole Sun” a mediocre piece of music, it’s a complete misrepresentation of Soundgarden’s sound. 

Now, I’m a huge fan of the A.V. Club series HateSong, in which public figures gleefully talk shit about the one song they hate more than any other song in the world. The Max Bemis (Say Anything) one where he talks about Nirvana’s “Rape Me” as a terrible rewrite of “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is terrific, but comedian Anthony Jeselnik’s HateSong takes “Black Hole Sun” apart, and I love it. I think the best line is: I think the more I hear it, the worse it gets. AVC: After the song became a huge hit, Chris Cornell said that he’d written it in about 15 minutes. AJ: I totally believe that. I don’t believe that Soundgarden likes that song. Like, I remember Eminem once said that he knew his song “My Name Is” was going to be a huge hit because the first time he heard it he was annoyed. It’s something about an annoying song that just grabs onto people. But I don’t think that anyone likes “Black Hole Sun.” I’ve never heard of anyone who likes it. I don’t understand why it gets played so much. It’s become a summer jam, and it’s not a summer song at all. Jeselnik is right that Soundgarden didn’t think much of the song. Guitarist Kim Thayil wasn’t kidding when he disparagingly called it the “Dream On” of their live show. And Cornell himself, known for a meticulous approach to his songwriting, had admitted that with “Black Hole Sun”was “probably the closest to me just playing with words for words’ sake, of anything I’ve written. I guess it worked for a lot of people who heard it, but I have no idea how you'd begin to take that one literally.” I mean it’s obvious from the opening lines that Cornell is just playing with words and how they sound: in my eyes/indisposed/in disguises no one knows What songs would have been more appropriate for Cornell’s untimely death? Glad you asked! Cuz there’s like…fucking at least ten that would have been better. I’m not tryna be one of those “the deep album cuts are better maaaaaan,” but with Soundgarden, it happens to be true. With some bands, the single are their best work. With other bands, the singles are the hors d’oeuvres for the entrees. So what deep cuts would have celebrated Cornell’s death a bit better? Well, to begin with, Superunknown’s strange and stately closer “Like Suicide” would have worked, for obvious reasons.

“Tighter and Tighter,” a song that is actually about the moment of death and what it might feel like, is one of my all-time fav Soundgarden songs. Not only is it a creepy and prescient prediction of what Cornell’s death by hanging himself may have felt like, it’s opening line is a good description of the personification of death: Shadow face/Blowing smoke and talking wind

Another sample lyric: “A sucking holy wind will take me from this bed tonight/and bloody wits another hits me and I have to say goodbye/sleep tight for me, I’m gone/and I hope it’s  a sweet ride/here for me tonight/cuz I’m feel I’m going/feel I’m slowing down.” 

The morning after Cornell’s death hit the news my buddy and bandmate James told me that en route to work his phone, which was playing music randomly through his car speakers, landed on “Tighter and Tighter” and he had to pull over because he was tearing up. 

“Fell On Black Days” is another song about depression and mortality. Cornell had the following to say about the song: “Fell on Black Days” was like this ongoing fear I’ve had for years ... It's a feeling that everyone gets. You're happy with your life, everything’s going well, things are exciting—when all of a sudden you realize you’re unhappy in the extreme, to the point of being really, really scared. There's no particular event you can pin the feeling down to, it's just that you realize one day that everything in your life is fucked! 

Now, if that’s not a cogent and even-tempered explanation of suicidal thoughts, what is? Why else would Cornell have admitted to being “really really scared” by his depression unless he knew what that depression could ultimately leasd to? Here’s some lyrics to “Fell on Black Days.” Dig the high literary use of “whomsoever” and “whatsoever.” Whatsoever I’ve feared has come to life Whatsoever I fought off became my life Just when every day seemed to greet me with a smile sunspots have faded and now I’m doing time cuz I fell on black days

Whomsoever I’ve cured I’ve sickened now Whomsoever I’ve cradled...I put you down I’m a searchlight soul they say but I can’t see it in the night I’m only faking when I get it right I sure don’t mind a change but I fell on black days how would I know that this could be my fate?

Eagle-eared listeners might think this version different from the album version. They are right. The rendition in the video was recorded live off the floor @ Bad Animals, the Seattle studio owned by Heart, where Soundgarden would record Down on the Upside. 

“Boot Camp” is a scary meditation about loss of agency that for years was tied with Zeppelin’s “I'm Gonna Crawl” for Creepiest Song to Cap a Discography, until Soundgarden reunited and released King Animal.

“Taree” is about ghost light, influencing events after dying and features Cornell’s most exhausted, convincing “yeah” @ 2:57.

“Applebite” is a Matt Cameron-penned ponderous clunker about Adam’s original expulsion from Eden. Doomy and death-laden.

“Let Me Drown” is a song about letting someone die.

“The Day I Tried To Live” is frequently cited as Soundgarden’s finest achievement, its odd time signature somehow sounds straight, thanks to Matt Cameron’s brilliant time keeping.

“4th of July” is a song about a post apocalyptic urban landscape, where the speaker isn’t sure whether he is seeing fireworks or bombs. 

“Limo Wreck” is a cool death song and has an eerie 9-11 prediction. “Building the towers belongs to the sky/when the whole thing comes crashing down don’t ask me why.” 

ANY of the above songs would have been better than that fucking asinine dirge-like major key fuckaround that has somehow not just become Soundgarden's signature song...but their ONLY song. 

Does nobody remember Johnny Cash covering “Rusty Cage?” 

“Outshined?”

“Burden In My Hand?”

“Blow Up The Outside World?”

Did none of these other songs get stuck in the electric head? (The electric head is Rob Zombie’s term for the technologically advanced culture we have found ourselves enmeshed in, or imprisoned by. It was the subtitle for White Zombie’s 1995 hit album Astro-Creep 2000: Songs of Love, Destruction, and other Synthetic Delusions of the Electric Head.)

For my money (which ain’t much honey), the song that best fits both Cornell’s artistic integrity and the sad circumstances of his suicide is “Tighter and Tighter.” I once wrote a whole article on the way artists use “yeah” as a placeholder or as a way to convey emotion when words themselves aren’t adequate. Dig that tired, world-weary exhausted “yeah” at 5:35 of “Tighter & Tighter.”

Or the creepy line going into the first chorus: remember this...remember everything’s just black or burning sun. Not that I agree with such a bleak worldview. It’s a writer’s line. And Randy Bachman has said, “when you’re a writer, you’d step over your own mother.” That’s the Cornell I want to remember. Not that he would step over his own mother. By all accounts he was a committed family man. I mean, I want to remember the Cornell who created strange atmospheric sonic worlds, who explored the dark side that sadly, eventually won out. His otherworldly beautiful music is what I choose to remember about Chris Cornell, not his estate tastelessly exploiting “Black Hole Sun” by using a line from the song to title a posthumous Cornell album of covers No One Sings Like You Anymore. Sigh.

First Cornell’s widow said this was “Chris’s last album.” Okay. What about the Soundgarden songs he recorded vocals for before he died? Kim Thayil was pretty diplomatic about it when asked recently. Cornell did record vocal tracks for the follow up to King Animal.

Kim Thayil: “Given our love for Chris, I do not see us reconfiguring without him.”

But he makes it clear in this interview that Cornell’s widow Vicky has those tracks and won’t release them to the band. Maybe because she blames the band for Chris dying that night? She’s not wrong to believe that they would have known, and seen, what kind of shape Cornell was in, at least at the venue, maybe not later at the hotel.

Kim Thayil: “It’s entirely possible that a new Soundgarden album will be released. Certainly. All it would need is to take the audio files that are available. I tighten up the guitars. Ben does the bass. We get the producers we want to make it sound like a Soundgarden record.”

Interviewer: “Is there an obstacle stopping that?”

Kim Thayil: “There shouldn’t be. There really isn’t. Other than the fact that we don’t have those files.”

Interviewer: “They’re not under your auspices?”

Kim Thayil: “Right. It would be ridiculous if [the record wasn’t made]. But these are difficult things. Partnerships and...property.”

You’re just gonna keep those wav files? And why title his covers album Volume 1 if it’s his “last album?”

Oh right. $$$

No one does sing like Cornell, but is “Black Hole Sun” really the best thing he ever did? The best song he ever sang? Should an album of covers be the last thing he gives to the world?

The only honest answer is no.

Sleep tight Chris. You’re gone.

[justfangstvdto]

Open Coffin 2 | Chapter 01 “City Of Devils”

Disclaimer: This is a sequel! Find Part 1 here. For some context, I´d advise you to watch The Originals to understand some occurrences.

Chapter warnings: typical vamp behaviour, blood, murder, angst and some very obvious foreshadowing

Word count: 4104

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is my lifeblood and keeps the writing coming.

Open Coffin 2 Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

You were surrounded by pulsating air. Alive and undead hearts sinking to the pace of the drums. There was dooming danger in the air in the packed bar turned nightclub, as hunters moved amongst their prey. It would be only a matter of time before the hunters overpowered them.  

On cue, the lights dimmed to a sombre shade of red and the hunters ceased their movements. You identified them through the rousing crowd, eyes veined and fangs bared - ready for attack.

Three.

Two.

One.

Midnight. Time to feed.

Your fangs punctured the delicate skin of the neck closest and the addicting crimson blood drained into your mouth. The horrid screams from the human in your grip were drowned out by the sheer pleasure of holding a life in your hands.

The brink was here. Was there hope for your prey yet?

You stepped over it, without blinking, without remorse. One less tortured soul to roam the earth. If you came to think of it, you did them a favor.

With evil on the mind and blood spatters in the air, you retreated the battlefield concealed as a dancefloor. You headed to the bar, unbothered to swipe your bloody mouth. There was no use in pretending anymore, to hide behind a mask. The world had seen what wretched thing you were, and you were unbothered by it. Let them see, let them fear. It kept them away.

Ordering a bourbon with the wave of your hand, you sat down on the remote end, further from the thumping music.

“Rough night?” The bartender tried to joke with you.

“Rough life.” That answer may have been trite, but hell if it wasn't ́t the truth. And you didn't need that dimwit behind the bar to remind you of that. “Just do your job and pour the liquor. I ́m not looking for a shrink.”

He backed off, hands raised in defence. The relief of silence was short-lived though as two loudly talking vampires joined next to you, their mouth tinted from their feast.  

“You heard about what's happening in New Orleans?” One of the vampires said to the other.

This Bar, in the heart of Hell´s Kitchen, was where supernatural gossip lived. Everybody talked and gossiped about friends and enemies alike, but none had anything to say that was of particular interest to you.

You heard about the other side collapsing, the recent change in leadership in New Orleans, even talk of Klaus ́ mystical daughter that died in a war between werewolves and the Mikaelsons. And you heard about Damon ́s death. You had to hear it out of someone else's mouth, instead of Stefan ́s. You were not even invited to his funeral, nobody tried to even contact you. Not once. So much for the unbreakable bond of family everyone kept going on about. All bullshit.

So instead of wallowing in grief, you preoccupied yourself with mercenary-like jobs in exchange for currency, which in your case, was spells and spellbooks to hone your craft. You did not have any other purpose, so you made your own. To harness enough knowledge to never watch someone perish in front of your eye ever again. Or to destroy anyone standing in your path.

“Apparently,” The vampire continued “there's some shit going down. Something about a witch that ́s back from the dead who's jumping into people's bodies. Can you imagine?”

“I ́m not surprised, that place gives me the creeps, man.”

“Yeah, but jumping into someone's body? That´s fucking weird.”

“Sounds like a job for those hunter brothers on tv. They ́d clean that shit up good.”

“Hell yeah, man!”

You had no desire to listen after that, consumed by new opportunity. There was only one witch that could´ve risen from the dead causing that much trouble. Esther. It had to be her.

How was she back? The other side collapsed not 4 months ago and with it every spirit in there. Then, a thought crossed your mind that had you spiralling; If Esther crawled out of hell, could he be back too? Was there a chance he made it out alongside her?

All hope deafened when whispers came from men next to you that were oh so chipper a second ago. The taller one with jet-black hair looked over his shoulder and saw you sitting there and promptly turned his head with fear in his eyes.

You were used to it. People here knew what you were. A new species of hybrid. A freak. They crossed the streets when you came along, children ran away and hid behind their parents. They always feared what they did not know, what they were not able to comprehend.

The hushed whispers continued for another minute before you intervened.

“You got something to say to my face?”

“Nah, nothing.” The shorter ashen blond guy shook his head.

You wanted to leave it at that, to let them go with a warning not to talk in whispered hushes. But something in their dismissal made you angry. So as it was and as it has been for the last 2 years, and unexpected visitor knocked on the door that is your mind. And you welcomed old friend Rage with open arms.

You were not burdened by simple anger anymore. Something changed and transformed anger into rage and loneliness into despair. It was nothing like the usual vampire heightened feelings, it was a thousand times worse. The intensity, the strong, yet sometimes short, but intense feeling of emotions was something else entirely.

When anger would hit you wanted to destroy, cry and scream. You wanted to let out your wickedest thoughts, and you wanted the world to feel your pain.

There was too much energy flowing inside your bones to contain it so you let it out and you did not care who saw you like that.

This was no different.

You chanted into your closed palm and blew it over with a single breath of air. Within an instant, ashen veins burned their skin and invisible hands strangled the air out of their lungs. They tried to scream, tried to beg for their lives, but you let them disintegrate.

Served them right.

The room fell silent, nothing but gasps and retreating footsteps.

“Anyone else?” You addressed the room, but were met with instant silence “Didn't think so.”

You leaned back on the chair, and within another sip of bourbon, a plan of action for dealing with Esther and New Orleans edged itself into your mind. You smiled at the sheer craziness of it all. It was pure suicidal lunacy. It dug up old enemies, made new ones and, upon failure, leave the city in ruins.

Fuck it, you had nothing to lose descending into the crescent.

Next stop; New Orleans.

--------

Neon signs burned in the dawning morning sky, illuminating the streets like a beacon of hope and salvation for the tempted souls wandering in them. The Crescent City was the sort of city where easy living during the day occurred. Tourists wandered the streets, thinking this was where they wanted to get lost in, where they would let themselves go. 

But New Orleans had a darkness that lingered in the shadows. Come nightfall, innocent souls always ended up pulled into the dark abyss by wretched souls that littered the paved streets with their bloodshed.

Unlike their glow, the memories attached to this place that was long forced behind closed doors burned like a forest fire. Unrelenting, yet familiar, like coming home after being away on vacation: Adventures lost, but the familiarity and comfort greater than any hardships that linger.

Almost any at least. 

But his presence lingered around every corner, in every face that passed and in every nook and cranny in this city. It bled his and his family name, even more so since Klaus reclaimed the city's throne. 

You stood where the first stone was placed by the returned King himself decades ago, a fitting starting point you found. From there you descended on your enemies tails. 

“Don't you know that the devil walks among us?”An elderly man, sitting beneath a shadowed street light shouted as you approached from across the street.

“Oh, believe me, I know. I ́ve met him.” You said and dropped a 100 dollar bill in his turned-over hat “ Problem is, there ́s not only one of them. This is New Orleans, we all have horns.” 

You pitied the man, yet you wished you had a belief as strong as his. Something to rage against, to pretend to fight for. Something that burned so deep I inside your soul you had to shout it off of rooftops, smear it down on a piece of paper or whisper into a trusted ear. 

Perhaps you would find it here. New Orleans had tricks up its sleep it left every city in its shadow. And with the current faction war brewing, things were bound to reach a tipping point. 

And no one knew war more than your destination for the night.

The Mikaelson Compound.  

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

Timing had no place in the French Quarter. There was no good time for confrontation, no time for rest and certainly no time to waltz into a stronghold unannounced. 

You were aware of that, painfully so, but when timing had no place then neither had fear. He would smell it out, twist it and spit it back on your face. 

Stepping into the spacious courtyard felt like being dragged between the past and future. It was as if laid with a photograph of what lies before you today with another, shine-through one of the past. If the walls could talk they had tales to tell of manoeuvres schemed,  and allies lost, but most of all, they would have told you to run away and never return. 

But this was another point of your plan and was clear it would be the easiest to execute but hardest to stomach. Convincing the self-proclaimed king to join your side.

You followed the sound of paintbrushes stroking on canvas. Ascending the stairs, your feet remembered to navigate the labyrinth and you quickly found your way to his room. You expected to be greeted with a scowl or even a tinge of surprise, instead, you were met with a paintbrush rushing in your direction. Within a blink of an eye and a flick of your wrist, the paintbrush disintegrated to ash. 

“If your intent was the element of surprise, you lost it.”Klaus said, and you could detect the smile through his voice before you saw it “Y/N. I knew we would meet again.”

“Trust me, I tried to avoid it longer. But I can't exactly say no to a bloodbath and I heard this one is gonna be a big mess, so here I am,” You said spectating the strewn about paintings that leaned against the wall. Most where muted colors, full of sorrow. “Damn these are depressing. And I thought your grey period in the '30s was the worst."

“Have you come with a reason or simply to critique my art?”

“Both I guess.” You shrug your shoulders,  “But, let's cut to the chase. Your mother sent me.” His demeanour changed radically, like a sail changing in an oncoming storm “You´ve met her as that Cassie girl, right?”

“You dare come into my home as one of her disciples?” He sounded appalled, disappointed even. His muscle tensed, ready for attack. 

But you knew him. You knew he'd slice first and ask questions later. 

“If you think about attacking me, don't even try. I just have to rub these two fingers together and you´d be immobilized.” 

"I see you accommodated to your new powers. Outright hypocritical if I might add." 

“Can we just have a civilized conversation, please? ”

He raised his eyebrow “Civilized?You?” 

“Look who´s talking.” 

“Let me guess; Esther sought you out to persuade me to accept her foolish deal? To forsake this vessel and take on a new, human body?.”

"That's the plan. Thing is, I don't really follow orders, especially not from her. That is why I ́m here." 

He took the time to study your features, to find some sort of indication of truth or deception. But you looked at him, unwavering.

“Why would you tell me this? To garner my trust? My appreciation, perhaps?” 

“You trust me as much as I trust you, so no. I want to offer you a deal of my own. I'll tell you what she's up to, and you don't annihilate me for working with her.  As easy as that.”

“You ought to play double agent?” He dismissed as if he thought it impossible “How do I make certain you did not promise her the same in exchange for, well, let me guess, everlasting power? A unicorn perhaps?”

“You don't. Then again, you ́re a man of words and not of deeds yourself. How do I know you won't kill me anyway?”  

“What did she offer you?” He repeated, disregarding your question. 

"Kol back from the dead.”  It was the first time you spoke his name in years and it felt like dragging it through dirt with Klaus in the room. It felt wrong, but you continued nevertheless “Now I know what you ́re thinking. Poor girl can ́t live without her love...how tragically cliché. I can, physically, live without him. I can, but I don't want to. He deserves better” You informed, prepared for the onslaught of judgment 

Klaus remained unconvinced still, you saw it on his face. 

“There is one slight inconvenience.” He said, “My wretched mother could easily manipulate your desire to resurrect my brother and operate against you. ”

“I know how to deal with a wretched parent, trust me.”

Wretched was never a strong enough word to accurately describe your father. Violent when drunk, absent when sober and spirit destroying all around. 

“A drunkard is hardly any comparison to the most powerful and deceitful witch the world has ever known.”

“But the desire to send them screaming back to hell is.”  

That made him finally pause and you could swear a smile twitched across his lips. Good. That meant he was warming up. As much as someone like Klaus could. 

 “Look, if you don't want my help, fine. But you know as much as I do that taking down your enemy from the inside requires someone to be a traitor to the cause. You need me.” 

“Why you? I have an army at my disposal, why would I possibly require your help?” 

“I have nothing left to lose. That makes me the dangerous one, and as you know dangerous wins wars.”

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

Klaus agreed to your deal within your next glass of bourbon at Roussous´s. He stated his concerns in a calm manner, but not without adding life-threatening menaces, disguised in Shakespearean platitudes. Typical Klaus behavior. In a way, you were glad he hadn't changed. It only meant you knew what you were dealing with. 

Esther, on the other hand, was much more unpredictable. When you negotiated your involvement in her operation before involving Klaus, she promised her assistance and the spell to resurrect Kol from the dead. She told you exactly what you wanted to hear, and you could not help but doubt her intentions. But alas, she was the lesser of two evils. 

But at last, one beacon of hope, that had been standing its ground long before Esther crawled out of Hell,  survived the nuisance of time; Roussous

The establishment was in similar condition as it has been since you last saw it. The flooring had the same scratches of battles waged, crumbles in the walls of bodies slammed into and the same stench of old bourbon that soaked to wood to its core.  

There was a booth in the back right in the middle, anchoring both rows on each wall that separated the units. The vantage point from the seats where perfect,  the bar was in sight as well as the exit and the employee side entrance - no matter where you looked, a surprise visit was impossible without being seen. 

It was your and Kol ́s booth back in the day. You declared it so was after Kol invited you dug in there during a sudden rainfall, only days after he invited you to join his families festivities, the night where you chased all the stars in the sky. Before that night, you hid away from prying eyes, mostly Klaus´, to prevent suspicion. 

Klaus had almost caught Kol once as he sneaked out to meet you. Of course, Kol was crafty and had a feeling that his control freak of a brother would follow him eventually. He led him in a different direction when he spotted him and made sure he was truly gone before heading off to find you, here at Roussos.  

You slid into the seat after you had ordered Bourbon at the front and the green leather squeaked with your weight. Once situated, you looked at the wooden pillar behind you, expecting carved initials in them. You and Kol's carved initials. But the dark painted wood did not match. They replaced it.

You brushed your fingers over where your and Kol ́s initials where carved previously, silently chanting a spell you retrieved from a skilled witch in India months ago. You smiled as the initials reappear in the dark wood. Sometimes the past was not meant to be erased, and you were not ready to let them erase him so easily. Not the city folk nor his family, no one. 

Loud buzzing that came from your phone distracted you on your tangent into the past. You looked at the display. Esther. 

“I was just on my way.”  You lied as you picked up her call  “He took the deal just as I thought he would. I fed him some bullshit about taking down the enemy from the inside and he took the bait. “

“Good work. What about the stake?” Esther said. 

She had asked about the white oak on your first meeting and set it as a condition to your mutual agreement. You told her that you had lost the white oak years ago, probably at the hands of Klaus.

“I can ́t exactly snoop around with him there.”

“I want that stake.” She repeated impatiently “No matter what you have to do to get it.”

“You ́ll get it, I promise.” 

“I am not interested in promises, I expect results.” She said and hung up the phone without waiting for an answer. 

“Bitch.”

---------

It was quiet on the other side of the river.  Dangling your feet over the ledge of the tallest building on this side of the river, you tried to remember when you last were surrounded by near quiet Sensory overload around the clock had been your salvation over the last few years, and this silence outright scared you. 

“You're not gonna jump, are you?” A familiar voice cut through the stillness and pulled your knees to your chest to get to your feet. 

“Don't know yet. It's not like it would kill me.”You shrugged.

He moved closer and pulled in for a hug.

“Woah what do you think you're doing?” You held both your hands up and backed away. Marcel saw through your playful rejection immediately and only rolled his eyes “Just because we drank ourselves into oblivion one time doesn't mean I like you. “

“We drank ourselves to oblivion every day for a week straight.” He corrected “I think I deserve a hug. You know, as your friend.”

Marcel stumbled into the bar in New York 2 years ago all teary-eyed and pissed off at the world. And though you did not have the best history, he approached you and poured drink after drink in silence until you were both drunk enough to let the pretences fall. Then you talked. And talked. 

He explained why had escaped New Orleans and sought the comfort of the Big Apple. He was broken-hearted over the loss of Davina, a courageous girl that was like a daughter to him. He swore to protect from a ritual the local witches called the Harvest. She was supposed to be resurrected, but the ritual failed. 

You were both miserable out of different circumstances. But death remained death no matter what kind of love caused such suffering. Talking until the sun came up, sharing the same, overwhelming feelings of grief and the fact you were no strangers to war or the Mikaelsons, lead to you bonding in a way you'd never expect. You would even go as far as to consider Marcel your friend. 

“It's good to see you again.” He said as he let go.

“You too.”  

That was what you liked about Marcel, he was open about what he was feeling in the exact moment. Everyone knew if they were on his good or bad side, he did not leave anyone guessing. It was admirable, if not foolish in a city like New Orleans. 

“What are you doing here? Last time I asked you if you'd ever come back here, you almost burned me alive.”

“Well, things change.” 

“Oh great, I know that look. What are you up to now?”

You stared at the skyline, on the moving water underneath it. You thought about how the ground would shake, how the sky-high buildings would fall to crumbles and how you could level the entire city if you willed it.

“Just the most insane, plan I ́ve ever come up with. I'm playing the entire board. From top to bottom, left to right and it ́ll probably cost me my life. So the usual craziness that is, well, me. No biggie.”

“No biggie if you're dead?” 

“We all die one way or another and technically we´re already did." You paused, bracing yourself to what you had to say next "Besides, it looks like I don't have much time to spare anyway, because-

He saw the near-black blood drop from your nose before you even registered it. He had to take a second look

“Because you're bleeding randomly?”

“Yeah, It's been happening a lot recently. That, and weird bruises that appear as if I ́m in a fight only to heal instantly. Invisible hands that strangle me, memories that are not my own, indescribable rage...the list goes on.”

This drainage of power started two months ago. It came and went in waves as a roll of feverish symptoms and with it came unbearable rage and paranoia. It was severer on a full moon, so it had to be tied to its phases. That much you knew, but that was it.  You consulted grimoire after grimoire and witch after with - no answers. 

“So, I think I'm pretty much doomed already.” You breathed out into the wind “What ́s a little more death gonna do to me?”

“Don't get sentimental on me now. You used to hate me, remember? "

I didn't hate you. Just your boyfriend."  So, that plan of yours. Say the word and I ́ll help you however I can.”

“Remember you said that. You'll wish you hadn't. Let's meet at your place tomorrow. I have to make one more stop on my reunion tour.” 

“You want some company?”

“ I´ll be fine.” If you could not walk alone in New Orleans at night, you might as well have a neon sign around your neck blinking the word soft repeatedly and lie down for a beating. 

"You sure?" He asked again. There was reals concern in his voice now, compared to the level headed and calm manner, it sounded outright strange. 

"This is only the beginning." You said, stepping on the ledge "If I can't handle some espionage, how am I supposed to handle the rest?" With the wind breezing you let yourself fall. 

Marcel smiled and shook his head as the looked over the ledge and saw you speeding away. He knew as much as you did, that descending into the Crescent City, to undermine the war and come out on the other side alive, was near impossible. But he learned that impossible was not in your vocabulary anymore. The War lines have been drawn, and he knows you'd jump between them if you had to. 

Let the games begin..

-------

A/N: And with that, we´re back!!! I hope you liked this first chapter! I wrote most of this back when my fur baby of 13 years passed away, so if it feels detached or anything that might be why. But I thought it would reflect the Sisters situation quite well so I didn´t throw it in the garbage like I wanted to.

Anyway, I would love to hear what you think. Just remember that this is the “housecleaning” chapter. We will find out what the nature of the Readers weird suction of power is, on what side she´s actually on, and what familiar faces will reappear in NOLA. 

All in good time my friends. This is only the beginning...;)

OC Taglist:

 @shadylittlewonder @thegoddessofvampire @newurleans @originalbish98 @acourtofhopeanddreams @bonniebird @imnoaingeal @mizzezm @vaniileiinkeks  @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @maliae14  @5-seconds-of-animals @the-geeky-engineer   @rock-n-magick @flymeawayworld @givemesomehybrid @mikealsonlover @nuteller28 @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @drkplum @fandooomqueenforyou @free-the-fangirl @clockworkballerina @twisted1ginger @superwholocksociopath474   @pacifyprincessxo @mustachio1616 @thealyana @sandyclaws @unicorntrooper @buckysummers​ @sanity-is-overratedxp​ @akshi8278 @lunna-star-8 @graysonmalfoy @woodworthti666 @elenavaldez02 @lilulo-12 @selmasemlan @thelostallycat @characterobsessed @cococola-cocaine @crazyinternetgirl @tvdplusriverdale @-thatgirloverthere-  @alwxadria345 @trymexo  @willieshakesqueer​ @spunky-89 @putyourherohaironstefan @xxdragonagequeenxx @thegingerthatwaited @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @hinata7346​ @controloffandoms

[dekudynamight]

Title: I Think I Like You 

Rating: E

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Jon Kortajarena

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: Only occasional acquaintances before, Jon and Sebastian hit the same party in NYC and click instantly. What happens after, neither one of them will ever forget. 

A/N: Aaaaand here we have a prequel! Sorry that it’s not the next chapter but inspiration struck and then it deserted me halfway through and I had the hardest time finishing this but I FINALLY DID lol (writing is haaaaard) so I hope this was worth the effort. Thank you to @captainrogerrsbeard for her beautiful mooooodboard and for always helping me with EVERYTHING I write, ily wife :) I hope you guys like this! (Also to clarify, this is set before those pics of them together from Feb 2018, so it’s my little imaginary explanation for that devilish smile Seb was wearing lol)

Sebastian was feeling damn good on one particular Saturday night in January of 2018. He was fresh off the critical success of I, Tonya, on the verge of starting a new project the following month that he had even higher hopes for, and to top it all off, he was newly single and living it up at a brand new NYC nightclub with his friends. He was starting a new chapter of his life that just might prove to be one of the best, and if that wasn’t worth celebrating he didn’t know what was.

Clad in a black suit with no tie and the top three buttons undone, still sporting his wonderfully full beard and fluffy head of dark hair, Sebastian was three drinks and two shots in when the alcohol finally started to really hit his veins. He was at a sprawling table in a VIP room with a few of his oldest New York friends and some new ones as well, laughing a story the woman next to him was telling and finding his eyes continuously drifting across the table towards a certain rather beautiful man. He was trying not to be so obvious about it but the thing was... the man seemed to be unable to keep his eyes off of Sebastian, too.

Sebastian knew Jon to a small degree already, having met him in passing before thanks to their shared agent and their paths crossing once or twice thanks to her. He knew that Jon was a model and actor from Spain, currently single as far as he knew, and thanks to the last few hours he’d spent in his company he now also knew that his laugh was infectious and that he had a sharp sense of humor. His accent was heavy and delightful because of it, and Sebastian couldn’t deny it - he could sit there all night just watching him and listening to him, and he’d be perfectly content.

And while he couldn’t do that, he could enjoy the view while it lasted. And that view got even better when Jon stole one of the seats next to Seb when its previous occupant got up to dance, flashing him a charming smile as he settled in and asked, “Mind if I sit here?”

“Oh, not at all,” Sebastian grinned, getting a whiff of Jon’s cologne with his new proximity. He tried not to bite his lip, taking a sip of his whiskey and trying to keep himself in check and not display his thirst so openly. But God, it had been so long since he’d been truly single and his spirits were so damn high and he was sitting next to a fucking supermodel so beautiful he was worthy of having sonnets written in his honor.

“All the interesting people are leaving,” Jon bemoaned, gesturing to the table and all the empty seats left by their friends who were now dancing. “Are you going to leave me next?”

Sebastian chuckled, Jon pouting playfully. “Probably not.”

“Do you not like to dance?”

“Oh, I like dancing fine,” Sebastian shrugged. “Just gotta be in the mood, you know?”

Jon nodded, quirking an impressive brow. “What are you in the mood for, Sebastian?”

Sebastian grinned slowly, licking his lips without even realizing it as his cheeks heated up. Thank God his beard covered up at least some of his blush. “Honestly, I could just sit here and listen to you talk all night. About anything.”

“Anything?” Jon laughed, and Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh with him. “You flatter me.”

“I mean it,” Sebastian insisted. “You should do voice work. You were made for it, man.”

Jon shook his head modestly. “That means a lot, coming from you. You’re great at what you do.”

Now it was Sebastian’s turn to brush off the compliment, sighing, “I try my best. There’s a lot of better actors out there.”

“But you are always the standout in your work,” Jon insisted. When Sebastian looked like he was getting ready to protest Jon quickly added, “It’s true! You always catch my eye, every time in every role that I’ve seen. And not just because you’re so pretty.”

Sebastian’s mouth fell open for one long second before he groaned and brought a hand to his suddenly very flushed face. Jon laughed at his adorable discomfort as Sebastian squirmed, dying inside from the praise that he hadn’t been expecting. He tried his best to pull himself together quickly as he replied, “Well... thank you, but -“

“No,” Jon interrupted gently. “No ‘but’. Accept my compliments.”

Jon’s tone, while playful, was firm and left no room for argument, and Sebastian felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He was always a sucker for a beautiful man with a firm hand, and the vibes that he’d been getting from Jon all night... oh man.

“Yes sir,” Sebastian retorted teasingly, and the look that Jon rewarded him with was nothing short of sinful. It made Sebastian’s throat run dry and heart race, staring back at him and knowing full well what was happening between them. He wasn’t simply drunk and imagining the chemistry there - it was real, and Jon was making no secret of it either. He dragged his eyes up and down Sebastian’s body and made a show of it, and Sebastian was seconds away from opening his mouth and making something happen when suddenly two hands landed on his arm and began literally pulling him away.

“Sebby, Sebby!” came the drunken giggles of Lara, another friend whom Sebastian usually would not have been instantly irritated at like he currently was. “Come dance, come on! You too, Jon!”

Sebastian resisted for a moment and looked at Jon for help, but all Jon did was smile and shrug. “I never can say no to a pretty face.”

Sebastian wanted to whine and kick his feet like a child but instead he sucked it up and stood up, letting Lara drag him to the dance floor while Jon stayed behind by a few seconds to drain his own drink first before joining them. Seb was in even less of a dancing mood now, but... well, maybe it would be a good way to clear his head and get him thinking properly again before he did something potentially stupid, like throw himself at a new friend and jump into bed with him before either of them knew what they were even doing.

Naturally, however, dancing didn’t clear his mind a damn bit. Instead it did the exact opposite, and Sebastian wouldn’t dare complain because holy fuck.

First he danced with Lara and a few others, the liquor he’d consumed giving him confidence and making him feel lighter on his feet than he really was. He started having real, genuine fun two songs in, laughing with his friends and wondering why he’d been so resistant to this idea as he turned around and suddenly ran directly into the chest of a man taller than himself. His scent gave him away, and Sebastian knew who he’d just collided with before he opened his eyes and looked up.

Jon grinned back at him, steadying Seb with a firm hand on his waist. “Enjoying yourself?”

Sebastian instantly forgot everyone else, Jon’s hand on him and unbearably close proximity taking up all of his focus and leaving none to spare. “Yeah.”

Jon’s hand slipped around to his lower back, pressing gently to pull him closer as he started dancing slowly. “Good.”

Sebastian swallowed hard, his arms dangling at his sides and brain short circuiting as it tried and failed to figure out what to do. His body was swaying of its own accord, moving with Jon slowly but deliberately, and he wanted to reach up and touch him and really dance with him but they were far from alone and Sebastian never knew who was watching and who might sell him out to a tabloid for a quick dollar. It was unfortunate but true, especially on a night like this when the club was packed and there were eyes everywhere.

“Relax, Sebastian,” Jon murmured into his ear as he guided him deeper into the crowd, away from the lights and into a corner of the dance floor that was far from private but a little less easily seen and a little more hidden. Then he reached down and took one of Sebastian’s hands, guiding his arm up and over his own shoulder until it was draped comfortably. “Move with me.”

Fuck it, Sebastian decided. He grinned up at Jon, letting instinct take the reins as he started dancing to the pulsing music and stopped caring about who might see. He’d earned the right to live a little, and Jon’s free spirit was infectious and a vibrant contrast to Sebastian’s ever-present underlying anxiety. He just might be good for him, Seb thought as he slipped closer and gave in, letting Jon take the lead.

It was fun and heated and left Sebastian feeling lightheaded in the very best ways. Jon was a natural dancer and seemed to revel in leading Seb, keeping it light and easy and playful until that just wasn’t enough anymore. Sebastian felt the shift when Jon suddenly spun him around and pulled him back against his chest, warm breath tickling Seb’s ear and sending a shiver down his spine as they started rocking together.

Sebastian let his eyes flutter shut and gripped the strong arm across his middle holding him in place, his body pulsing and feeling like a live wire with each point of contact between himself and Jon. He loved the height difference between them, loved feeling a little smaller and relying on Jon to guide him, and he knew he wasn’t the only one loving it. Jon couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of him, dragging the tip of his nose up and down the side of Sebastian’s neck and sending shivers down his spine and his blood racing south.

It was then that Sebastian took a chance, letting his free hand rise up and slip into Jon’s hair, letting him know through that touch how much he was enjoying himself. Jon grew a little bolder then, his hands roaming down to Sebastian’s hips and lips brushing his jaw, the touch feather light and careful but very much there and clear in intent. If there was any doubt, the growing hardness that Sebastian felt behind him laid it to rest, and he was fucking fine with that. In fact, he decided that he’d had enough of this and turned around to face Jon, their bodies pausing the dance as Sebastian grabbed Jon’s collar and pulled him close.

But he wasn’t pulling him in for a kiss. Instead he brought his lips to Jon’s ear and asked over the music, “Wanna get out of here?”

Jon responded with a pleased chuckle and a hand on Sebastian’s ass, giving it a squeeze as he replied, “That’s all I’ve wanted all night.”

Sebastian pulled away and grinned at those unexpected words. Then he looked around them just long enough to check for prying eyes before leaning up and kissing Jon firmly, taking him by a very pleasant surprise. He’d wanted to taste those perfect lips for hours, and they felt even better than he’d imagined. Jon kissed him with an enticing mixture of teasing and open hunger, his tongue colliding filthily with Sebastian’s before they pulled away panting and gazing at each other.

“I knew you’d be good kisser with that mouth,” Jon murmured, thumb sweeping over Sebastian’s bottom lip.

Sebastian simply grinned and leaned in a little closer to reply lowly, “My mouth is good at a lot of things.”

Jon’s eyes grew dark with surprise and pure arousal as he then all but growled, “Let’s go. Now.”

Sebastian couldn’t have agreed more.

---

The front door slamming behind them with a jarring thud, Sebastian’s back hit the wall and he had only a fraction of a second to grin before Jon was on him and kissing him like his life depended on it. It was all tongue and groans and hands everywhere, frantic and hungry and fuck Sebastian just knew this was gonna be good, better than anything he’d had in months.

Jon hurriedly yanked off Sebastian’s jacket and let it hit the floor, reaching for his shirt next as they kissed hard and breathless. Sebastian couldn’t breathe and he didn’t care, burying his hands in Jon’s hair as Jon tried to work the buttons of Seb’s shirt open, but between the alcohol clouding his head and the desire spurring him on it was next to impossible. Out of patience and perhaps not having any to begin with, Jon simply ripped his shirt apart and sent buttons flying everywhere as Sebastian broke the kiss with a soft gasp.

Sebastian looked down, cheeks flushed and mouth hanging open. Then he slowly looked up at Jon, both of them breathing hard as he marveled, “Nobody’s ever actually ripped my clothes off before.”

“Then you’ve been choosing the wrong lovers,” Jon replied with a smirk before grabbing him and turning him around, shoving him against the wall before pulling off his shirt and bringing his lips to his neck. “You like it rough, don’t you?”

“God yes,” Sebastian confessed, Jon’s hands on his chest and sliding down, down, down until one ghosted over the front of his pants and gripped him through them. Sebastian let out a gruff noise and scrabbled his fingers against the wall, forehead pressed against it as Jon started rubbing him teasingly slow through the fabric.

“I knew you’d be fun,” Jon said between kisses, licking over a bruise he’d sucked into Sebastian’s neck and grinding into his ass, making no effort to hide how badly he wanted him.

Sebastian moaned from all the sensations, rocking back against Jon and craving him inside of him, stomach clenching and breath hitching at the mere thought. “Fuck, stop teasing me,” he suddenly groaned, surprising himself with the words but God he meant them. “Need you to fuck me.”

Jon responded by turning him back around and kissing him soundly, knocking his head back against the wall with the force of the kiss before drawing back just long enough to murmur, “Where’s your bedroom?”

Sebastian then grabbed his hand and took off, guiding him to his room and feeling like it took them a million years to finally get there. Once they did he turned around and pulled Jon in for another rushed, almost sloppy kiss, reaching for Jon’s shirt and quickly ridding him of it and, once he got a full look at the toned and mouth watering chest that had been hiding under his clothes, he steered Jon to the side of his bed and sat him down.

Jon reached out to pull Seb down with him but Sebastian sunk down to his knees between Jon’s legs before he could stop him. Sebastian looked up through his lashes as he worked Jon’s pants open, Jon gently cupping his jaw and rubbing his thumb over his chin and the soft facial hair that covered it.

“This,” he said, pressing on the gray portions of the beard, “I like this. It suits you.” He watched as Sebastian blushed faintly over the compliment, and when he ran his thumb over Sebastian’s lower lip he didn’t hesitate to flick his tongue over the tip and then suck it into his mouth. “Oh, Sebastian... you need a cock to suck on, don’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Sebastian breathed, releasing his thumb as he got Jon’s pants open and pulled his cock free. He took a moment to take it in, gripping it gently and stroking a few times, mouth watering with desire. “Fuck, Jon...”

“Go on, sweet boy,” Jon purred, threading his fingers in Sebastian’s hair and gently pulling him down. Sebastian loved it, Jon holding him in place as he licked the tip of his cock, swirled his tongue and then ducked down to lick from the bottom to the top. Then Sebastian took a breath and sucked him down, and the rough Spanish curse that left Jon’s lips was a sound that would haunt Sebastian’s mind for weeks to come, he just knew it.

He poured everything he had into it, doing everything he could to blow Jon’s mind and leave an impression he wouldn’t forget. It helped that he loved doing this and knew that he was damn good at it, having brushed up on his skills once or twice since becoming single. But none of his recent casual hookups had inspired the sort of determination and passion that he felt now, his enthusiasm only growing with each deep groan from Jon’s mouth and the tantalizing trickle of pre-come he worked out of him.

“God you taste good,” Sebastian panted, pulling off just long enough to murmur those words and suck in a breath before diving back in. He worked Jon like his life depended on it, losing himself to it and getting so caught up that he was taken fully by surprise when Jon started tugging him away and telling him to stop before it was too late.

Sebastian let him go with a slight whine, looking up at Jon and knowing he looked like the picture of sin - swollen lips, cheeks flushed, chin wet and eyes wild with arousal.

“You were made for that, Sebastian,” Jon marveled, pulling him up closer. “Look at you. You’re so hungry, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Sebastian sighed, shuddering when Jon kissed him. “Didn’t wanna stop.”

“Such a good boy,” Jon murmured, saying it as an experiment. When Sebastian blushed and closed his eyes in response, Jon grinned in satisfaction. He was getting to know what made Sebastian tick, and neither of them were even fully naked yet. “Stand up.”

Sebastian obeyed, rising to his feet and letting Jon work his pants down and off of his legs. Jon rubbed him gently through his boxer briefs before tugging those down too, and once they were out of the way he tugged him closer and wrapped a hand around his painfully hard cock, giving him a few strokes to give him a little relief.

“You’re beautiful,” Jon told him, gazing at Sebastian’s naked body in a way that made Seb flush and want to squirm and duck his eyes away. “Get on the bed. On your back. Now, baby.”

Sebastian scrambled to obey, climbing on the bed and doing exactly as he was told as Jon stood to rid himself of the last of his own clothes. Sebastian laid back on his pillows, watching with great anticipation as Jon rounded the bed first to poke around in Seb’s nightstand. Sebastian held back a whine as he waited, reaching down to palm at himself impatiently only to be interrupted by Jon giggling - giggling - and pulling out a roll of condoms that Sebastian had completely forgotten about.

“Your commitment to your character is... admirable,” Jon grinned, showing Seb the condoms bearing the image of Captain America’s shield.

“Oh my god,” Sebastian groaned, cheeks going red. “Those aren’t mine. I mean, they’re mine, but I didn’t get them - my friend did as a joke and I just forgot -“

“I think it’s cute,” Jon assured him, tossing them back into the drawer and grabbing a different one along with a mostly full bottle of lube. He tossed them on the bed and then finally climbed on himself, Sebastian reaching for him like he was starved as Jon slid on top of him and smiled, “Impatient?”

Sebastian answered with a furious kiss, unable to get close enough fast enough. With no clothes in the way now and just skin pressed against skin, Sebastian’s need for Jon eclipsed all reason and he simply had to have him now. He relished in having Jon’s weight above him, being underneath his taller body and yielding control to him, maybe not knowing him very well but enough to trust him with this.

Sebastian was whiny and needy and vocal, murmuring an almost desperate fuck me between kisses only to have Jon chuckle and pull away. “Not yet, darling. I’m not done playing yet.”

Sebastian whimpered but didn’t argue, hardly able to protest when Jon began to kiss his way down his body. He was thorough in his exploration and left no part of Seb untouched, murmuring words Sebastian couldn’t understand in between lavishing kisses all over his body. It was a little more than he would have expected from a one night stand but he loved it, wound up so tight by the time that Jon was settled between his legs that the first stroke of Jon’s hand on his cock nearly had him shooting off the bed.

Jon soothed him with kisses on his hipbone, grinning at his enthusiasm and stroking him far more leisurely than Sebastian would have liked. “You are so needy,” he noted, leaning in and flicking out his tongue against the tip. “Relax, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

Then Jon’s beautiful mouth joined his hand in expertly working him, and Sebastian let out a shaky, grateful moan as his head dropped back into the pillows. He only stayed like for a moment though, needing to watch and enjoy the show that Jon was putting on. He looked painfully beautiful like that, hair falling into his eyes and sharp cheeks hollowed as he sucked, and Sebastian was so thoroughly caught up and damn near hypnotized that the first brush of a slick finger further south took him by complete surprise and had his entire body jolting. He hadn’t even seen him grab the lube and hadn’t even noticed Jon spreading his legs wider to position him how he wanted him.

Jon simply glanced up and shot Sebastian a devilish look without taking his mouth off of him, teasing him with that finger and slowly sliding it inside once he’d relaxed into the touch. Sebastian cursed low and broken and slid a trembling hand into Jon’s hair, the fleeting initial pain melting into pleasure fast and God he hadn’t had anything this good in so damn long.

It was an intoxicating blur of pleasure, Sebastian completely lost to it as Jon took care to keep him from finishing too early. He had to pull off completely for a few minutes when he was two fingers deep, watching Sebastian’s flushed chest rise and fall and his hands fist the sheets. Then once Sebastian had almost caught his breath Jon swallowed him back down, and he repeated the cycle until Sebastian was opened up for him and on the verge of losing his mind and all but begging him to fuck him.

“Please please please, fuck, Jon, I need it,” Sebastian whimpered, his words answered with Jon pulling off for good and removing his fingers. He groaned at the loss of sensations but then Jon was moving back up and capturing his lips in a filthy kiss, reaching blindly for the condom he’d grabbed and pulling away only to hurriedly open it and put it on while Sebastian watched hungrily.

Then he dove back down, kissing Sebastian deep and murmuring, “Are you ready, Sebastian?”

Sebastian nodded, wrapping his legs around Jon’s waist and pushing up against him for emphasis. “God yes, I’m so ready.”

Jon wasted no time then in giving them what they both needed, guiding himself in and sinking into Sebastian slowly. He watched as Sebastian’s eyes fluttered shut and tension crossed his features, body tightening instinctively until he relaxed into the intrusion. The truth was that Seb liked that part and always had, the pleasure/pain making him feel more alive than almost anything else ever did, and this time was no exception. Jon was a lot to take and by the time that he was fully seated, Sebastian was dazed and breathing hard enough to prompt Jon to kiss his jaw and ask gently, “Are you okay, darling?”

Sebastian grunted to the affirmative, then licked his lips and forced his brain to form words. “I am... so fucking okay, Jon.”

Jon groaned at those words and kissed him, starting to move slowly and gently. He was only careful until Sebastian started moving with him and roaming his hands up and down his back, urging him for more, and that was when he started really moving.

The first time he hit that spot within Sebastian just right, Sebastian gasped and Jon dropped his head against his neck, murmuring words that Sebastian didn’t understand but desperately wanted to. He was so curious, in fact, that he gave Jon’s hair a light tug and asked sweetly, “What’re you saying? I wanna know...”

“I am saying,” Jon replied, lifting his head and looking Sebastian in the eyes as he rocked into him, “that you feel so tight and so perfect, I don’t want this to end.”

Sebastian blushed and bit his lip, rocking with him harder, wanting to take him deeper, feel him for days. “Fuck, Jon, you’re gonna kill me.”

“I hope not,” Jon chuckled breathlessly, leaning in until they were a breath apart and dropping his voice down low. “Because then how would I make love to you in the morning?”

The words were enough to make Sebastian moan out loud and press his nails into Jon’s back, asking wordlessly for more and getting it as Jon picked up the pace. He wanted this, wanted more in the morning, wanted anything this man would give him, and nobody had made him feel like this in a long, long time. Not the guy he’d hooked up with last month, not the woman he’d taken to bed not long after, none of the people he’d given it a go with since calling his last relationship quits. Jon was unexpected but damn if they didn’t have better sexual chemistry off the bat than anyone in Sebastian’s recent memory.

Jon began to drive into him with more and more determination as the blissful moments carried on, pausing only to adjust Sebastian a bit and hold up his leg, the new shift in angle making him take Seb deeper and pulling a moan so loud from his throat that the neighbors had to hear it. It only made Jon smile, proud of his ability to fuck this beautiful man into such a glorious and careless mess, and after that it wasn’t long until they were both on the edge and simply couldn’t hold back anymore.

Sebastian was cursing and half-babbling nonsense, his entire world reduced to nothing but the pleasure he was engulfed in and the man responsible for it all. It only became more mind-blowingly intense when he felt Jon’s hand on his cock, stroking fast in time with his thrusts as his deep voice demanded in his ear, “Come for me, Sebastian, sweet boy. Let go, make a mess on us.”

He couldn’t have held back if he tried. He came harder and longer than he had ever in recent memory, every loud noise and breathless gasp and shudder of his body completely out of his control. He had just enough awareness left to register the sound of Jon cursing and slamming into him hard as he followed right after, holding Sebastian tight as they both lost themselves to the sort of pleasure that could only come from being with the right partner.

It was, Sebastian knew, without a doubt the best casual sex he’d ever had. And he’d had some good casual sex in his day, to be sure, but this... this was the kind of stuff that made him wanna sit down and write fucking poetry, and he wasn’t a damn poet.

But all of those thoughts were inconsequential for the time being, Sebastian floating deeply and sleepily in a state of pure haze and satisfaction. He only came back around when he felt the bed depress next to him, which was when he realized Jon had gotten up at some point. He was so blissed out he hadn’t even registered it, but now Jon was leaning over him and cleaning him up with a warm towel, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips and his gorgeous eyes soft but still mischievous when they met Sebastian’s.

“I thought you might have fallen asleep,” Jon confessed, still gloriously naked himself. Sebastian shook his head, the smell of the tobacco hitting his nose and prompting him to reach up and steal the cigarette, placing it between his own lips and inhaling as Jon watched.

“Almost,” he replied, blowing out a cloud of smoke. He took another drag and then placed the cigarette back where he’d plucked it from, grinning and adding, “That was....”

“Amazing,” Jon agreed, smiling wide and almost a little shy, which would have been preposterous had it not been so adorable. He tossed the towel away, finished with it, and slid in next to Sebastian fully in the bed. “Just like I expected.”

Sebastian let out a deep breath at that, rolling on his side to face him and curling up against him. “Well I’m glad I wasn’t a disappointment then.”

Jon shook his head, offering the cigarette back to Sebastian. As he accepted, Jon asked, “Where are you from? Romania, yes?”

Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Well,” Jon smiled, “at the end, you... stopped speaking English.”

Sebastian furrowed his brows, pure confusion on his face as he muttered through the cigarette between his lips, “I what?”

Jon grinned. “You did.”

“I don’t... do that. Ever. Are you sure?”

“Unless you have other languages you speak...”

Sebastian shook his head, Romanian the only option that made any sense. But still... “Damn.”

“I fucked the Romanian out of you,” Jon said teasingly, and Sebastian couldn’t help but close his eyes and laugh a little. Jon leaned in and smiled as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Sebastian’s mouth, and they continued to share the cigarette until it was gone and put out in a tray on Sebastian’s nightstand.

“I’m glad I went out tonight,” Sebastian said as Jon shifted on his back, allowing Seb to use his lean chest as a pillow.

“I’m glad you’re single right now,” Jon grinned, running his hand up and down Sebastian’s back absently. “I don’t know how you are.”

“Not everyone thinks I’m as awesome as you do,” Sebastian chuckled, placing a soft kiss to his chest.

“Then they are all fools,” Jon decided. He reached down and tilted Sebastian’s chin up, making him look up into his eyes. “Who wouldn’t adore you?”

Sebastian melted a little at those words and felt a pang of sadness, one particular man coming to mind whose name he wouldn’t dare speak. No matter what Jon might think, Sebastian was no stranger to rejection and, in some cases, completely unrequited crushes that he didn’t know how to let go of and move on. But he wasn’t gonna let that ruin the high that he was on, he decided as he shoved those thoughts down and leaned up to kiss his new lover.

“You’re sweet,” he murmured against Jon’s lips. “I think I like you.”

Jon chuckled, tracing his jawline with long, gentle fingers. “Good, because I think I like you too.” Sebastian smiled and kissed him again, the two men getting lost in each other again as the wee hours of the morning approached.

Sebastian didn’t know where this new thing between them might lead, if anywhere at all, but one thing was for sure - he was gonna enjoy the hell out of this while it lasted.

taglist: @captainrogerrsbeard @onehotgreasymechanic @stanclub @time-travel-bouqet @supersmuttyqueernerd @its-a-pretty-interesting-wall @lisamott9 @ravensonata @buckmesideways22 @loki7ms @weareallteamcap @laughingatthevoid @nade2308 @wintersoldier1989 @steve-bucky-stucky @loricameback @imagininggirl @absolutelydreadful @dviciosamadridista @musette22 

[dumbbellpony]

Commission Info Here!   Ko-Fi   Derpibooru DeviantArt

Short Story Under the Cut!

The evening ended, the excitement and buzz in the air had finally fizzled out. Hours of back and forth from the kitchen with cupcakes, pizza, and hayburgers, the oven caked with enough grease to supply the local Double Patty’s or at least two fast food wagons.  The music stopped, all the chairs and tables folded and put away, and the confetti was...mostly swept give or take a patch. As he tied another trash bag to sit out on the street corner ,he saw the last fading visages of a clique of fillies scampering down the path towards their own homes.

Dumbbell finally felt like it was safe to breathe a beloved sigh of relief as he leaned against the side of his house. The Cutiecenera was over.

Dumbbell sighed and closed his eyes. “Thank the Sun...”

Actually no. Damn the sun. It was freaking hot today.

“You can thank me too while you’re at it.”

Dumbbell reluctantly opened a heavy lidded eye and peered across their front lawn. Hightide’s diminutive form stood near their mailbox, a broom and dustpan clutched limply in his hands.

“Hm? What was that?” Dumbbell asked, noting his son’s exhaustion. Hightide came down the path, his hooves dragging like he was walking through a swamp, with the dust pan filled with little squares of colorful paper fated for the trash can.

“I said,” Hightide breathed tiredly “It would have been nice if mom and Cherry were here to help out.”  Dumbbell chuckled. “I can’t keep your mom away from the Roller Regionals, you know that. Your big sis neither.”

Hightide huffed and tossed the broom to the ground, about to dispose of the mound of confetti. “Yeah, but-”

“DADDY!”  There was a shriek, then a burst of strong wind and Hightide found himself consumed by a tornado of dust and party paper.

“Daddy, daddy! Swift Storm and Golden Comet are having a sleepover at their house, can I go, can I go, can I go please?” Kite Runner was doing figure eights in mid air around Dumbbell’s head. Dumbbell caught her on the next pass around, stopping the buzzing sugar filled filly instantly. “Woah now, sweet stuff,” Dumbbell shrugged and gestured to the front lawn as if to emphasize all the chaos that had just went on within its boundaries not less than an hour ago.

“We just had a party!”  

“I know!” Kite Runner swayed in her father’s grasp, upside down, her dimpled smile brimmed with happiness. “But this is the cutiecenera after party! Only my bestest friends will be there!”

Dumbbell smirked. “Is your brother invited?”

“No.”

Hightide snorted from his place on the lawn. “Didn’t wanna.” A momentary pause before Dumbbell released his youngest daughter back to the air. He pointed an authoritative finger at her. “Don’t wreck the place.” he stated. Knowing, or at least hoping he knew that she’d heed her dad’s warning.

“Yessir!” Kite saluted before she shot off like an airborne torpedo.

Dumbbell shook his head. “These kids.” Hightide was still on the lawn,  now flat on his back, covered in confetti. To Dumbbell there wasn’t too much difference between the colt and what remained of the pinata which lay tattered and abandoned, but at least the pinata was smiling. What a champ.

“Hightide.”  Dumbbell walked over when his son didn’t respond. He leaned over to look him in the eye. “What’s got you bugged, little guy.”  Hightide released a slow, low spirited breath and sat up, brushing away the confetti and picking most of it out of his mane.

“My little sister got her cutie mark three days ago.” he said.

“Yep.”

“And  I still don’t have mine.”

“True that.”

The colt’s expression slipped in somewhere between confused and dejected. “How is that possible?” Dumbbell hoisted his son back onto his feet, marveling at the new mess Kite Runner’s confetti storm had created. He’d half a mind to make her clean it herself, but a father couldn’t damper his little girl’s cutiecenera like that. He wiped his forehead and glanced at the near cloudless blue sky. Today was a scorcher, he would have to adjust  some of those clouds...

“I’m a whole year older than she is!” Hightide paced fretfully back and forth across the lawn. Dumbbell fought to not roll his eyes. Of course a single year makes all the difference.

“What did she do that I didn’t do?” Dumbbell clamped a palm on Hightide’s head to stop him. “You’re over thinking it, Tide, remember what I’ve told you? There’s no point in worrying to death over the next sunrise. It’ll come whether you’re there to see it or not.”

“I've tried everything,” Hightide bit the inside of his cheek. “Nothing’s worked.”

Dumbbell smirked. “Everything? You sure?”

“Yes, all Kite Runner had to do was...fly.” Hightide dug his heel into the dirt, frustrated seemingly by everything.

“Flew straight into a thunderstorm when her classroom’s pet bird got out of its cage , nearly killing me and your ma with a panic attack. And then she came back down as if nothing was wrong with the bird on her back...carrying a bolt of lightning in her teeth. You know, to be specific.” Dumbbell paused, recalling the event with bemused wonderment. “You three get all your weirdness from your mother’s side.”

Hightide bit his cheek again, moments away from muttering something about how he could have at least gotten wings in the weirdness package, but not wanting to have another argument over that again. Despite this, Dumbbell still sensed that something was wrong as he watched his son gaze longingly at the sky. A  smile crept onto his face. As a certain familiar phrase entered his mind.

‘Like the ocean needs the moon to take the tides away’

“All you need's a little time to chase the blues away.” When he heard this, Hightide jumped, knocked out of his melancholy as recognition dawned on him. “Pops?”

“How about this,” Dumbbell clapped a hand on Hightide’s small shoulder, business like. “I have a client tomorrow but it’s only half day.” Hightide’s ears flicked with interest. “Uh huh?”

"Surf season started yesturday." Dumbbell winked. “When I get back, what do ya say we hit the beach, ey?” Hightide’s stunned expression broke into a full grin as he sprung into his dad’s arms like a grasshopper.

“Seriously, pops?” Hightide could barely keep himself from squealing.

“Of course I’m serious!” Dumbbell laughed deeply as Hightide wriggled in his arms, trying to deflect the oncoming and inevitable noogie of doom. “I can’t keep a fish like you out of the brine for too long. You’ll start flaking!”

[silvergalaxyx7]

Friday Night Funkin Original Story (Corrupta Nigrum) [Part 3: Resistant Heart]

Part 3: Resistant Heart

“I will never get your obsession with these things,” Boyfriend commented, looking down at the olive covered pizza that lay in front of both he and Girlfriend in the local pizzeria they decided to visit after much hesitation by Boyfriend himself after the “Tabi Incident” that had occured in another restaurant a few weeks ago. 

“Hmm, what do you mean?” Girlfriend responded, an entire slice of olive pizza immediately being consumed as if it were a mere crumb, the girl’s jaw opened wider than any average human.

The very sight of such a thing caused the Boyfriend to momentarily look away before taking his own pepperoni slice from the second half of the pie they ordered.

“Nothing…” Boyfriend responded, clearing his throat, the ability to speak still being something rather strange to the boy as he looked around the establishment.

The pizzeria was one of the most recently opened places in Melo Dee City and that fact alone made Boyfriend rather anxious to continue this “date” any further, too tired and rather irritated if they had to encounter yet another stranger who either did not like him dating Girlfriend, were sent by Daddy Dearest to end his path in a happy life with his beloved, did not like Girlfriend herself for strange reasons he couldn’t wrap his head around, or most likely hated Daddy Dearest himself and wanted to take their anger out on the ex-rockstar and his daughter which meant he would be included into the mix of blame for an unfair reason, though he couldn’t turn down a rap battle. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” Girlfriend asked as the boy jolted to attention, a large slab of tomato sauce stuck to the girl’s face as Boyfriend couldn’t help but to give a small smile and clean it off with his napkin.

“No, everything’s fine,” Boyfriend responded before sitting back down in his seat, the busy sound of everyone around them talking easing his nerves a little bit, as much as having Girlfriend with him had also done.

Then he looked down.

On his slice of pizza, the pepperoni slices looked up at him, almost as if they were reddened eyes like those of Senpai in what he believed to be a dream or hallucination, and it seemed as if he was the same instance as he had previously thought of being.

“Leave….her….” it whispered in a raspy voice that was reminiscent of the spirit trapped within the husk of Senpai’s body.

“Waaaaah!” Boyfriend slapped the slice away, the pizza falling on the floor with a squelch before the pizzeria turned silent for a moment, the boy responded with a nervous laugh before picking up the mess he had made and placing the slice back onto his plate, looking up, only to be met with a equally concerned and skeptical expression from Girlfriend, “Um, what?”

“Something’s going on with you,” Girlfriend grabbed another slice, pointing it at the boy, “And I think I know what…?”

“You do?” Boyfriend titled his head in confusion, unsure of what she meant, seeing as he was merely tired.

“Yeah…..you’re still thinking about what Geovanni told us, aren’t you?” Girlfriend said slowly, beginning to eat her food at an equally slower rate.

“U-Umm….” was all Boyfriend could mutter, rubbing his arm which signaled that he had been thinking about it at least once.

“Just forget what you heard-”

“It’s kind of hard to do that, you know?” Boyfriend interrupted the girl, his tone a bit more bitter than he would’ve liked.

“What are you talking about?” Girlfriend asked, placing down her slice.

“You know very well what I’m talking about!” Boyfriend exclaimed, trying his best to keep his voice down so that they didn’t draw any unwanted attention, “Geovanni’s whole spiel about you having something inside you?”

“He’s crazy, don’t listen to him.”

“But this isn’t the first time something like this has happened, y'know?” Boyfriend continued, “Remember Tabi?”

The name of her ex hit Girlfriend hard, the girl wincing at the mention of the man before continuing to chew what remained of her food in her mouth, her expression now more irritated than surprised.

“What about him?” she asked.

“He said that you were the reason why he looked the way he did, why he couldn’t go back to a normal life, and that you used him in order to get what you wanted before throwing him away!” Boyfriend continued, “At first I thought that he was exaggerating, that it was your pops that could’ve been the cause behind all of this, but after encountering dangerous people these last few months, and seeing how you deal with our battles, I’m starting to….”

With those words, Boyfriend fell silent, only now noticing Girlfriend’s widened gaze as the girl slowly narrowed her eyes once again.

“You’re starting to what, Boyfriend?” Girlfriend asked slowly.

“I….I’m just scared,” Boyfriend retraced back on his seat, leaning backwards with a sigh as he gripped the table, Girlfriend’s expression now shifting to that of concern.

“Of me…?” his beloved asked, nearing the verge of tears. 

“Of this, our relationship!” Boyfriend leaned forward once again, “How is it going to work if you don’t tell me things like this, about what’s going on in your past?”

“Those things are private and personal for a reason, Boyfriend…” Girlfriend said in a somber tone.

“Don’t you at least trust me to understand?” Boyfriend continued.

“Of course I trust you, but this is different….” Girlfriend explained.

“How?”

“My life before I met you, hell, before I met Tabi, it’s been bits and blurs that I can’t really remember, but I don’t want to remember them if it means that others are going to get hurt,” Girlfriend’s eyes quivered as the girl hugged herself, “When I was little, daddy told me that I didn’t have to worry about my past, that I was just a demon and that that’s what mattered in my life, helping them bring music to the world while remaining as happy as I could possibly be, but things got a lot harder when I fell in love with guys or became friends with other people. 

Sooner or later I would get upset, even if it was for a little bit, and things never turned out good for either of us, so I decided to not go after people by myself, to not get me or anybody else in danger, and to just let daddy figure out what to do with the people that I was upset with.

I mean, I was “daddy’s little girl,” right?” Girlfriend tried and momentarily failed to hold back her tears, choking her words through them.

“I get it, you know?” Boyfriend admitted with a sigh, “It’s hard being different, getting treated like a weirdo because you’re not like anybody else, so you try and get into a relationship but things don’t turn out well because the one you love is dangerous and you’re afraid of them or they’re afraid of you…...but, that doesn’t make it right to hurt them or for them to hurt you.

Trust me, a good relationship requires good communication and understanding with one another.

And that’s all I’m asking you for, that you communicate with me, just a little bit more.”

Girlfriend looked at Boyfriend with hesitant but understanding eyes as she gave a shaky nod, dabbing her eyes with her napkin before taking a sip from her glass of wine to the side as Boyfriend drank from his soda can, mostly to ease the tension between the two.

“Alright, alright, I’ll try to control myself, and I’ll understand you just a bit more, but please, don’t rush me,” Girlfriend gave her beloved a small smile, placing her hand on top of his, “I want to take some time to know me a little more before I can give you all my secrets, kay?” 

“Absolutely, take all the time you need,” Boyfriend gave a determined smile as the two continued on.

While the boy did indeed trust his girlfriend, a small spark of concern and hesitation lay on his chest, though whether that had been due to the guilt of straying away from his promise of freeing the spirit from Senpai and their virtual prison or from the fact that he was still somewhat afraid of her after all the demons and abominations they faced was something he was still incredible unsure of.

Though perhaps that sorcerer could help him understand. 

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

Not long had truly passed, perhaps four days to a week, before one of the first Blacyx were encountered by Sarv as she contacted Geovanni, the sorcerer’s phone picking up as the sorcerer struggled to take another step, the location he had gotten in the morning from the nun being quite a ways away from the main city, more so into the rural outskirts of the country, a trip which had taken him nearly five hours, including having to pay for a bus ticket and walking most of the way, though he had prepared for the trip with a few granola bars and and water bottles.

Sarv had actually called him at around 6:00 AM and it was currently 10:27 AM, meaning that afternoon was approaching fast, so he had better find the solution to their problems quickly.

Bzzt!

Geovanni went into his pocket, taking out his phone as Sarv’s number appeared on screen with of course her icon of a cross, the sorcerer placing close to his ear as he continued, now walking on a sandy terrain that felt more so like the middle of nowhere rather than a location an individual would go to in the first place.

A Blacyx wouldn’t need to worry about these factors by their own definition however, so it was more understandable as to the environment.

However, from the look of the place and overall form that the the girl had taken Boyfriend and Girlfriend during his observation, a barren field of sand and sunbeams never really seemed like the type of place she would ever go to in the first place, especially when Boyfriend was deeper inside the city.

“Hello?” he finally called into the phone.

“Greetings, Geovanni!” Sarv’s cheery voice called through the phone, though the nun’s voice was far deeper and distorted, meaning that she was currently in her demonic form, “Have you found the Blacyx as of yet?”

“No, though it does seem quite unusual that she would be out here of all places,” Geovanni responded, looking around the peachy landscape with a few tumbleweeds passing along his trail, “Are we sure she isn’t in some area of containment? There are other organizations and parties besides ourselves that feel the need to act in a more aggressive and organized manner than we could ever could, whether it’s for “the greater good” or more malevolent options of containment, though I don’t believe they understand what a Blacyx even is in the first place.”

“Well then, we’re lucky we get to do their job for them, huh?” Sarv responded with a giggle as Geovanni simply gave a tired chuckle, the sorcerer hearing a grunt from the phone’s background, presumingly Ruv hearing in on their conversation.

“I suppose we are, though I would assume getting them to listen to us would be rather pointless, so I am still thankful that you decided to assist me,” the sorcerer continued walking, kicking a small pebble that stood in front of him, “There are many magical users within our world, though you are one of the more powerful ones I have found, though I hope you don’t envy any others I happen to find on our mission, heh?”

“Hey, envy is a sin!” Sarv huffed, the sorcerer giving a small laugh before continuing forward, a minute or two of silence passing by before Sarv spoke out, “Geovanni, you said you knew this girl, right?”

“Not personally, no, but I have observed her interactions with Boyfriend and Girlfriend in the past, though her cooperation is far easier said than done considering how their last interaction had resulted in, but I believe I can manage getting through to her…...I tend to mostly be good for emotional connections believe it or not,” the sorcerer continued on.

“I see…..well, I have full confidence in your intentions, though whether that was a mistake or not is yet to be seen,” Sarv explained as the sorcerer simply gave a slight nod, though the nun couldn’t see. 

Narrowing his eyes, up ahead there seemed to be multiple large columns of smoke rising into the air, large walls appearing where the road had ended, definitely not in any legal manner either, though the location and smoke began to make sense to Geovanni who gave a sigh as soon as he heard gunshots firing from inside the structure. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…” the sorcerer groaned.

“What, what is it?” Sarv called out as Geovanni once again brought his necklace out from under his vest, flicking on it as the metallic eye opened once more, magical circles surrounding his body like armor before he stuffed itr back underneath his collar.

The sorcerer continued walking before stopping in front of the wall’s entrance which merely had a flimsy gate standing between him and his targeted individual, and from the top of the walls lay two outposts with two figures standing within each one respectively, immediately drawing sniper rifles from the shadows cast inside the posts themselves, sunlight entering the structure as Geovanni got a good look at average height men with black armor surrounding their bodies and boots, white visors in front of their eyes, a pointed spike on their inky black helmets, and large smug grins across their face.

“Ugh, tankmen…” was all the sorcerer said before closing the phone and placing it in his pocket, looking up at the soldiers with a irritated but respectful glare, “Greetings gentlemen, I was wondering if you can help me with-”

“Now I’m gonna have to stop you right there pal,” the left tankman had interjected, “This area is off limits to punks like you.”

“Punks like…..you know what, nevermind. I’m sorry, but I believe you must have misunderstood my intentions,” the sorcerer gave a nervous laugh, though he knew that it wouldn’t be easy to get through to people like these men, not like it ever was in the first place, “I’m looking for-”

“Rex, I don’t think this man was listening to you,” the right tankman responded, once again interrupting Geovanni who responded with a groan.

“Listen, I’m looking for-”

“You know what Mike, I think you’re right!” the left tankman, apparently named Rex, had agreed, cocking his rifle before leaning it against the surrounding walls around the outpost, readying it to fire at the sorcerer, “I don’t think this guy is getting the memo, so why don’t we show him what happens to punks like him?” 

“I love how you think!” the right tankman, Mike, agreed eagerly, imitating the movement, though the hammer of the man’s rifle was stuck for a moment, “Aw, you’ve got to be shittin me!”

“What’s wrong?” Rex asked.

“Goddamn thing’s stuck again!” Mike responded, pulling on the gun part, only for it to remain static.

“Did you eat that PB&J again?!” Rex exclaimed, “I told you that peanut butter would stick to your goddamn gun!”

“Hey, my mom made it for me!” Mike protested, still trying, and failing, to pull back the hammer.

“Mike, you mom’s dead, all ours are!” Rex yelled back as Mike stopped for a moment.

“Crap, you’re right, then who….?” Mike stopped for a moment as Rex facepalmed, Geovanni simply tapping his foot against the sandy ground, rolling his eyes. 

“It was that girl, you know, the new one?” Rex explained, “Blue hair, crazy eyes?”

“Right, right, but I still stand by what I said!” Mike announced, pulling on the trigger with a grunt.

“Fine, just hurry up!” Rex mumbled, placing his gun to his side.

“Hang on, are you both going to shoot me?!” Geovanni exclaimed, now finally having a chance to speak, “I just want to see someone. Actually, it’s that girl you both were mentioning.”

“Wait your turn, houdinne!” Rex called out before turning back to Mike impatiently, “Oh my loving lord, hurry the hell up!”

“I can’t do it if you keep yelling at me!” Mike cried out, tears somehow falling out of his visor.

“Oh….um…..you’re right, sorry man,” Rex quickly apologized.

“It’s just that I’m always under pressure and finally having someone to shoot up with you makes me feel nervous sometimes, you know?” Mike continued.

“Yeah, I get it, but just take your time alright?” Rex added with a smile.

“Thanks man…” Mike smiled back, wiping the tears from his face.

“What in the world is going on?” Geovanni mumbled to himself, shaking his head as he looked ahead of him, finding that there was nothing actually blocking the entrance to the decrepit city remains of this military battlezone, so he could just walk in.

“Hey, how about we play Yahtzee after this?” Rex suggested.

“R-Really dude?” Mike once again began crying, “Damn, you’re the best!”

“No dude, you’re the best….” Rex gave a confident nod.

“Dude…” Mike gasped.

“Alright, I suppose I’ll just make my way inside,” Geovanni announced walking toward the entrance when, by the holy power of bromance, Mike pulled back on the hammer with a click, his rifle ready to be fired.

“Aha! You’re not going anywhere!” Mike exclaimed as Rex too pointed his gun at the sorcerer who simply gave an unamused expression, continuing to walk, “H-Hey, don’t ignore us! Rex, let’s take this guy out together!”

And with that, both tankmen began firing at Geovanni, loud blasts and shots being heard throughout the military zone. 

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

Deeper inside the battleground however, the gunshots of Rex and Mike couldn’t be heard over the dozens of other gunshots as tankmen were battling their adversaries and enemies from the secondary commander, nemis and ex-friend of Corporal John Captain himself, as tanks rolled on the earth and fights ensued every corner of the rubble within the city.

John Captain however, has better things to do rather than dealing with the remnants of the Thugmen who he had believed were all killed, though it seemed they rebuilt their army once again, his own rousing and charismatic speech allowing his Tankmen team to deal with those brutes easily without him leading charge.

No, to the northeastern portion of the battlefield is where his whereabouts truly lied as the captain was busy in front of a shooting range with his four week long newest recruit, a teenage girl with long, now desaturated, blue hue for hair color, ripped jean shorts, similarly desaturated lavender eyes, a black hoodie with three Xs vertically aligned down the sleeves of the clothing with a depiction of a broken heart at its center, black sneakers, a small pistol in her right hand, and a somewhat apathetic attitude toward everything in the life.

“Come on Blue, you just gotta shoot the target!” John instructed, wrapping the girl’s hand around the pistol before motioning it towards the center of a dart board that was merely ten feet from them. 

“Yeah, you’ve been telling me to do that FOR THE LAST TWENTY MINUTES!” the girl yelled as the captain simply scoffed, grabbing a pistol that he had kept behind his back, despite having no apparent holster to hold the weapon. 

In a sudden and quick motion, the captain fired his weapon towards the array of targets in front of them without even looking and, in a stroke of pure and utter skill…...missed every single one of them entirely.

“And that’s how it’s done!” John finished with a smug smile, one that the girl knew all too well, an unfortunate fact. 

“You….missed,” the girl raised a brow, pointing at the holes the bullets had riddled on the large piles of debris and boulders that lay behind the targets.

“Nah, that’s all subjective!” the captain gave a prideful laugh before placing his gun back and walking next to the girl.

“Wha-no, no it really isn’t!” the girl once again exclaimed, “I mean, that didn’t even hel-”

“Come on shrimp, let’s get started on training, though after your moves a few weeks ago, I don’t think we have too much to worry about, though I’m not too into letting outsiders join our army,” John pointed to a tankman that sat on an ice cooler underneath a tattered tent a few feet away from this, this one wearing a circular vision more akin to goggles while eating one of the girl’s PB&J sandwiches that she had prepared in the morning, this man being Steve, John Captain's best friend and trusted “advisor” at times, “You can thank Steve for not kicking you out.”

“Love the sandwiches, Blue!” Steve called out with a small wave as the girl simply returned with a smile and the same gesture. 

“Look, that was just an accident!” the girl returned her attention back to John, keeping her voice down, “I was just trying to pass through here because the mall is on the other side and I needed to buy more hair dye, which in hindsight was a pretty dumb decision seeing as how I could’ve taken another path instead of going through here.

Anyway, you guys just handed me a gun just because I happened to pick up one of your helmets and that made me one of you guys apparently, but I didn’t know how to use a gun.”

“Ah, don’t cut yourself short kid, you took down five Thugmen on your first try,” John recalled the event, “And then you took out an entire dozen of them including a tank! Ha, we needed you on our team after that show of genocide!”

“Okay, one, you slapped my back and I accidentally shot the Thugmen who just happened to be standing at the wrong spot at the wrong time and two, I dropped my gun after realizing I literally killed people and that somehow caused it to fire on impact, shooting flaming barrels that were on their side, which was a pretty dumb thing to have anyway, and it ended up toppling the tank over an entire group of them!” the girl tried to reason with the captain, but as she once again turned her attention to him, he had been eating her sandwiches with Steve.

“What’d you say, kid?” John called out, mouth full of the food.

“Argh, nothing!” the girl turned around, pointing the gun to the target before focusing the rear sight of the weapon at the center of the bullseye before closing her eyes and firing, the gunshot startling her, “EEEP!”

The girl had fallen on the floor, cowering in justifiable fear for a kid who just fired a gun intentionally for the first time, though all that she had heard was the sound of John and Steve clapping with a few other tankmen in the area whistling a congratulatory melody. 

“W-Wha…?” the girl opened one eye before looking around her, seeing all her “teammates” giving her thumbs up as she looked ahead of her to find that she had, by all accounts of skill, actually landed and hit the bullseye, “O-Oh!”

“Yeah, that’s my girl!” John stood up, clapping quickly before realizing the fatherly comment he just said and giving a small cough to readjust his words, “I-I mean good job rookie!”

“Ha!” the girl stood up, the rush of adrenaline after firing what she believes to simply be a weapon for destruction filling her with an increased level of excitement that she hadn’t felt since…..since…..but that didn’t matter now.

Perhaps she could stay here a bit longer, help the Tankmen out every so often, and killing the bad guys isn’t bad, right? 

“See, I told ya you could do it!” John gave her a pat on the back, lifting her arm in the air, pistol in hand. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think I could….” the girl looked down at the gun, her reflection staring back off the glassy surface, her tired eyes and desaturated colors staring back at her, but her usual scowl was suddenly replaced with a hopeful smile, “I could get used to th-”

“Corporal!” a voice came from a broken pathway that led to the entrance of the abandoned city’s borders, and from behind the rubble came a tankman, frantic and worried, “Corporal John Captain!”

“What is it, soldier?” John responded as the tankman tripped on a rock, face planting himself on the ground as the girl went up to the man, helping him up, “Can you see me and Blue here are having a bonding moment?”

“S-Sorry, sir but someone….he….ah….and Yahtzee….” the man spouted out, catching his breath.

“Easy there soldier, who are you talking about?” the tankman looked around, only seeing the typical rubble and destruction laid upon a battleground of a city. 

“Some guy, Rex and Mike tried to shoot him down since he was trying to enter this place, but the bullets, they just won’t knock him down, like they’re reflecting off of him,” the man continued, looking around in a terrified state, “Said he was looking for some Sky chick. What do we do sir?” 

“Sky….?” John contemplated the name, “Who the hell….?”

The girl looked at the captain with an expression of disbelief, offense, and utter bewilderment.

“You’ve got to be kidding me-that’s my name!” the girl, now known as Sky by the others, exclaimed.

“Wait, that’s you?” John pointed as all the other tankmen murmured to each other in similar confusion.

“You’ve been seeing me for FOUR WEEKS, how don’t you…..you know what, nevermind,” Sky rubbed her temples before looking over at the frantic tankman, “Where is he?”

“He should be-”

“Hello, is anyone there?” a voice called out from the same path the tankman had come from as everyone turned to look, guns ready, as Sky looked down at her pistol with some form of uncertainty, though she still pointed the gun in the same direction as everyone else. 

From the rubble however, came a neatly dressed and dark skinned man in a cinnamon colored tuxedo, wearing fancy clothes with a similar colored vest as well as glasses, who looked around the area before he had landed his eyes on the group next to the shooting range, only he wasn’t staring at Steve or John Captain, but rather Sky.

“Hey, the hell you think you’re doing here?” John broke the rather awkward silence that was only momentarily broken by the gunshots in the distance between the Tankmen and Thugmen.

“I’ve come to speak to Miss Sky,” Geovanni immediately responded, stepping forward as his eyes narrowed in observation, seeing the appearance of the girl, the previously happy-go-lucky, cheerful, awed, and in love girl with bright colors that reflected Boyfriend’s own clothing and appearance now reduced to a desaturated shell of a girl who seemed rather tired than loving at the moment, pointing her pistol at the sorcerer as the man looked around, only now realizing that the rest of the Tankmen were also aiming for him, “Oh, would you all grow up?!” 

“Why do you want to speak with her?” John had stated, Sky’s eyes widening in surprise at the fact that the captain hadn’t simply begun shooting at the man like he did for everyone else.

“It is of important matters that are dire to the safety of our world, though I don’t assume you would understand or care much about that, would you?” Geovanni gave a nasty glare at the captain who simply scoffed with his signature grin before the rest of the Tankmen cocked their guns.

“Buddy, I think you better choose your next words rather carefully…” John said slowly, “Cause we’re about to blow you sky high!” 

Sky hadn’t spoken to the man as of yet, simply hiding her confused and uncertain eyes behind her weapon, Geovanni’s eyes meeting her own, the sorcerer’s expression reflecting that of pity and a hint of what seemed to be disappointment, though not to her, but rather this entire situation he was in, Sky simply sighing before lowering her weapon.

“Wait…” she announced as the rest of the Tankmen looked over at the girl, “Don’t fire.”

“Excuse me?” John responded with a laugh, “Rookie, I don’t think that’s up for you to decide, so just let me do my job and-”

“He wants me, doesn’t he?” Sky snapped back, “So let him speak.”

“.....oh, it looks like we’re at a standstill, kid,” John turned around with a smile, “Guess we’ll have to figure this thing out using our new way of fighting, make this day a bit more interesting than it’s already been.”

“Want me to get the speaker John?” Steve asked, hesitant to lower his own gun down from the man’s direction. 

“Fucking god Steve, yes, how the hell are we supposed to do this?” John sighed as the captain’s friend simply walked a couple feet forward before pulling off a tarp that lay on top of something big, revealing an old set of speakers identical to those that Girlfriend was on previously, only now with scratches and a small flame in its corner, the man tossing two microphones, one to Geovanni and the other towards the captain, “Nah, you what Steve, pass one for Blue here, see if she got the pipes to keep up.”

“W-What?!” Sky exclaimed, shaking her head and hanks in disagreement, “N-No, I haven’t sung since….since…..I just don’t think it’s that good of an idea!”

“Ah, come on, you’ll be fine,” John gestured for an additional microphone as Steve threw one at Sky who fiddled with it, juggling both it and her gun in her hand before deciding to hold each one in an individual hand, “Alright old man, rap battle to see who gets the girl!”

“H-hey, don’t treat me like a prize!” Sky protested from the background.

“Old man?” Geovanni sighed, though he was slightly hurt. 

“Let’s see what you got!” John shouted as Steve sat on the speaker for some odd reason, somehow able to turn the broken musical instrument on.

And with no further protest, the first battle of part three has begun, guns cocked and snarky comments made!

[Hello once again esteemed reader!

So, this battle is rather interesting, especially with a newer, more edgy depiction of Sky because why not?

Alright, so here’s how I imagine the song/movements going:

Battle Title - “Ugh Forever” (This song would be “Ugh” from Week 7 of the original FNF with the only exception being 

that we now have Sky who remains with her original vocals and small sections where the notes from Sky would sound like certain pieces from the “Sky” song from the respective character’s mod, with the small “ugh” being replaced with Sky’s own grunts and angry noises from her own mod.)

Character Movements - While Tankman’s and Geovanni’s remain the same, Sky’s is now different with her new character design except her her non-singing animation in which she has the same movement as her original form, only having her hands in her hoodie’s pockets and swaying side to side like her normal animation, an apathetic expression on her face:

Up (Sky holds her mic close to her head as her entire body kinda shrug’s upward, holding her gun in a similar way to Pico.)

Down (Sky brings her body low in a similar manner to Sarvente’s downward position, mouth in an “o” shape and everything, so nothing really special.)

Left (Same movements will be in the right position. In this case, Sky would kinda bob her head to whichever direction the arrow key in her side hits, this being in about five or four frames rather than the one or two frames for her other movements, her mouth also moving to whichever direction the arrow key hits.)

Right (^^) 

Background - Same as Week 7 for all three battles in this part, only instead of Girlfriend on the speakers, it’s Steve holding a PB&J. 

And so, with some stubborn determination, Geovanni somehow manages to be a duet against his own voice, quite tired with all the trouble he has been put through, though Corporal John Captain isn’t quite pleased with the result.]

“God fucking dammit….” John sighed, facepalming, “Kid, we’ve got to work on that war cry of yours.”

“That wasn’t a war cry, I was literally pissed that you would get me to fight a battle I was trying to avoid!” Sky protested before the captain simply looked over at Geovanni and scowled.

“Are we done here?” the sorcerer asked.

“Ah, go to hell!” John simply pointed a gun at him before immediately firing.

The bullet, when reaching the sorcerer, was instantly reflected off a ornate magical circle protecting Geovanni’s body which had appeared at lighting speed, the bullet hitting one of the tankmen as he fell to the ground, face bleeding as Sky simply shuddered, still not quite used to the amount of death and pain there was in this place.

“Captain, I would recommend you cease fire….” Geovanni warned, not really as a threat since the sorcerer wouldn’t hurt these foolish war fighters, but rather so that they didn’t waste their time trying to shoot him. 

“Men, prepare to fire!” John commanded as all his troops readied their aim before all firing at once.

“Or simply ignore me, sure,” the sorcerer rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as bullets bounced off of him, Sky jumping behind John who was completely unimpressed, but more so annoyed at the fruitless result of simply shooting his problem away, something he hadn’t felt since dealing with Boyfriend, his ex gun wielding maniac, and that literal satanic hand me down wearing Girlfriend.

Whether it was due to his extreme luck or somewhat high intelligence in standing at the right place, not a single bullet hitting the captain.

“Ah, you’re no fun!” John placed his hand up to signal everyone to stop firing as the lasting sounds of gunshots were heard echoing through the battlefield, his additional armies firing at the enemy in the distance, “Rookie, just deal with this guy for me, will ya?”

“I was literally trying to explain that to you-”

“Kay, thanks!” John quickly interrupted before walking back towards the tent he and Steve had been eating their sandwiches within, leaving Sky and Geovanni to their own conversations as the remaining tankmen returned back to their battle.

“Sorry about that…” Sky apologized to the sorcerer who simply gave a sheepish smile, waving his hand in dismissal.

“Oh, don’t apologize, they always act like this, especially when it all comes down to an idiotic reason like retrieving the disk for a film or simply assisting a friend,” Geovanni rolled his eyes, “And here I am wondering how are they trained soldiers.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Sky responded, quickly realizing that she apologized once again, before simply changing the subject, “Um, so what do you want in the first place?”

“Oh, right!” Geovanni gave a nervous laugh, clasping his hands together in front of him, though the sorcerer remained silent, a large amount of sweat beading on his brow, his nervousness in needing the girl’s ability to defeat an extra dimensional entity being something that was difficult to put into words. 

“So…..are you gonna tell me or?” Sky tapped her foot against the ground impatiently. 

“Well, it’s a bit difficult to describe,” Geovanni explained, “Though to begin, I suppose you first wish to understand how I was able to gain knowledge of your name, don’t you?”

“That would be a nice start,” Sky’s eyes narrowed with skepticism before she stopped for a moment, the girl’s expression slowly becoming more somber and small as she crossed her arms, microphone still in hand, “But I think I know the answer to that….”

“You do…?” Geovanni responded with confusion.

Sky gave a small nod, her eyes staring at the ground as the girl’s expression softened, though the sorcerer could notice a tinge of guilt within her eyes and overall position, her legs overlapping over one another as she fiddled with the drawstrings on her hoodie as Geovanni was able to see past the zipper on said clothing, viewing a fairly dirty white shirt with a red check at its center.

Right, when she had met Boyfriend and he…...chose Girlfriend over her.

That event, in viewing for himself, was a bit of a confliction as he didn’t know which side he had rooted for the most, a small bit upset at Boyfriend for simply leaving her behind in her own void, the reason he was after her right now, instead of consoling her or trying to help her through her obsessive tendencies, but also understandable upset at Sky for taking her actions to an unhealthy level which ended up harming those who had nothing against her, pushing away those who she was after in the first place.

Well, he couldn’t ask her to come with her in this condition and state of mind.

“Want to talk about it?” Geovanni asked as the girl looked up at him with a surprised look before slowly piecing the pieces together, figuring out that he knew exactly what she had done through the sorcerer's look of recognition and remembrance on his face. 

“I-I don’t know…” the girl placed her hands back in her pockets, looking to the side in shame.

“I know that my reason for coming to ask for your help is important, but as a sorcerer, as a friend, I simply wish to keep you all save, be it from literal demons, or your inner ones,” Geovanni extended his hand with a warm smile, “So, what do you say?”

“I don’t think I wanna remember that…..not again,” Sky mumbled, though Geovanni could catch wind of the girl’s words.

“Hmm... “ the sorcerer thought to himself, only now realizing that his hand was still wrapped around his microphone as he gestured it at the girl with a small smile, “Then how about we have a little wager? Nothing harmful, I assure you.”

“A what?” Sky responded, now locking eyes with Geovanni as she noticed what he was referring to, “You wanna rap battle me?”

“I never quite understood why every type of song is described as a rap battle, but sure,” Geovanni smiled, “U-Unless you don’t want to of course!”

“No, no, it’s fine, but….” Sky stopped, thinking of some excuse, though she couldn’t come up with any.

“Are you alright?” Geovanni leaned in slightly.

“.....alright, let’s do it,” Sky gave a determined nod. 

“Great, and I hope you don’t mind if I pick a song,” Geovanni turned towards the speakers, waving his hand as a magical circle appeared in front of his fingertips, this one having a musical symbol in its center, before the sorcerer turned it slightly, heavy feedback emanating from the speakers before the melody of “Wife Forever” began to play.

Sky’s eyes widened at the recognition of her own song of all things.

“Wait, what?” the girl turned over to Geovanni who had already flipped on the mic. 

“Oh, don't worry, I’m not the best singer, but from what I’ve heard, you have a wonderful voice,” the sorcerer grinned.

“R-Really?” Sky’s eyes widened with an embarrassed blush before the girl shook her head, “No, wait, I don’t-”

“Let’s begin,” Geovanni continued.

And with that, the second battle had commenced.

[Alright, an easy one to say the least:

Battle Title - “Wife Never More” (This song is just “Wife Forever” but Sky sings her parts a lot slower, almost like a slowed reverb version of the song itself while Geovanni simply sings it normally and fast.) 

Battle Movements - Geovanni’s remain the same while Sky’s are also the same with the slight difference of a anime styled water droplet on her forehead to represent embarrassment and confusion, the girl's eyes now open in every one of her movements, her mouth like a squiggle to also represent nervousness. ]

As always, the battle had ended, Geovanni victorious on his side of the outcome, unaware as to the frightened and shaken Sky who was standing only a couple feet away from him.

“What an excellent…...song,” the sorcerer stopped, noticing that Sky was beginning to tear up, bringing her hands to her head, almost as if the girl wanted to stop the tears from coming out, to little success, “Miss Sky, are you alr-”

“Why….?” Sky asked under her breath.

“What?” Geovanni replied.

“Why did you use that song?” the girl reiterated.

“I-I thought you would be pleased to sing your own song again, but I-”

“I hate my songs,” Sky clarified, bringing her head up as the sorcerer noticed her eyes were a bit red, tears running down her cheeks, “I just wanted to stay here with Corporal and the others, forget about my past, but you didn’t let me even try and explain what’s going on.”

“I swear, that wasn’t my attention at all!” Geovanni tried to explain, “I just wanted to make you feel more confident in yourself and-”

“Hey, the hell do you think you’re doing?!” John’s voice interrupted the sorcerer who found the end of a barrel pointed a foot from his head.

“Sky, are you alright?” Steve walked over to console the girl who was beginning to wipe away her tears.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” the girl gave a shaky nod before taking a deep breath, her expression returning to its more stern and neutral form as the girl glared at Geovanni, “Alright, enough games, what do you want?”

“I-I, um, I wanted-”

“I think she asked you a question, you merlin washout!” John spat at the sorcerer who had finally snapped with his nervousness, whirling around to place his eyes towards the end of the gun, his magical barrier laying right at its head.

“Do you idiots even know how hard this is, telling a heartbroken girl that I need her manifestation abilities in order to save the world?!” he shouted at John who simply glared back, the sorcerer placing his hands on his mouth, what he wanted to lay on Sky bit by bit coming out all at once, as he turned to witness Sky’s eyes widening.

“W-What?” the girl’s grip on her microphone tightened to the point where a few cracks began outlining around her palm.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant!” Geovanni reassured her, though Sky simply dropped her head.

“Heh, and I thought you actually cared about me,” the girl responded with a small laugh that slowly increased, “But that’s never the case, is it?!”

“I do care about you, but--”

“You just wanted to connect with me, to make me feel better, and for what, my dumb powers that got me into this mess in the first place?” Sky questioned, even more tears beginning to come out of her eyes as the ground underneath everyone began to shake.

No, not shake, but rather ripple, small waves coming from Sky’s own position.

“Please, just listen-”

“I’m just Sky, the crazy weirdo who no one ever wants to talk to, right?!” the girl’s eyes widened as she laughed once again.

“You’re much more than that, I promise,” Geovanni reached his hand out before dropping it back down, gripping onto his vest with contempt, “Maybe it’s better that I go-”

“No.”

“What?” the sorcerer looked up as the girl gripped even harder on the microphone until the entire tool broke into pieces, falling on the floor as a splash of more feedback echoed through the battlefield. 

“You heard the lady, you’re not going anywhere,” John pointed the gun at Geovanni’s even harder, although this proved pointless.

Geovanni was concerned however, not towards the captain’s idiotic endeavor to harm him, but rather towards Sky anger, a black, vicous liquid begining to envelope her hand and travel up to the girl’s elbow as seen through her hoodie’s sleeve which had dampened as well, the liquid also travelling up to her thighs, a looming reddish pink glow coming from behind the small layer of hair in front of the girl whose head was still lowered.

This was it…...manifest.

“You wanted to see my manifest, didn’t you?” Sky asked, her voice far deeper and distorted than her previous form, similar to Girlfriend’s and Sarvente’s in their demon form, “Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m not from this world, even though I go to a school in Melo Dee City and I live here in the battlefield, but I’m actually from somewhere that is much more real than your world…..actually, your world is just a little game to me and people like me from where I come from, and I could simply just wish you away if I was there, but my manifest allows me to stay in this world, though I don’t like using it at all, especially when I can hurt others.”

“Then stop, please,” Geovanni begged.

“And yet you still wanted it, right, you jerk?” the girl continued bitterly.

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” the sorcerer held onto his microphone, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah right,” Sky retorted.

“It’s true!” 

“You want my manifest?” Sky asked, lifting her head to reveal pure mixture of red and pink eyes, her fingers forming into black claws before placing them in a position where one of her hands was in front of her chest while the other in front of her stomach, lifting her middle and index finger up, shaking violently, “THEN HERE IT IS!”

With those words, the girl screamed, a distorted and echoed scream filling the battlefield following a large blast of white which covered everything around the girl, including the sorcerer who yelled, covering his eyes against the blinding lights around him.

Opening his eyes after a few moments of silence and accustomization to the ash colored environment around him, Geovanni stood up, finding himself in an infinite black void, the speakers, Steve, and John also within it with him, though he had to focus on the men’s visors due to them already wearing black suits.

“The hell is going on captain?!” Steve exclaimed, pulling out his pistol.

“Steve don’t you think I would fucking tell you if I knew?!” John snapped back at his friend, also taking out his pistol as he stood in front of him.

“Sky….” Geovanni called out in a calm and slow manner, looking over at the girl who was rapidly shaking, gritting her now sharpened teeth with fury.

“SSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP!” the girl yelled, the entire void flashing red for a moment before returning to its onyx hue.

The sorcerer knew he couldn’t get through with words, holding his microphone close to his mouth as he looked over at the tankmen for assistance.

“What?” John glared back before looking over at the speakers, “Ah, fine, but just because I don’t feel like doing anything today. Shouldn't even have been here in the first place.” 

And with that the final battle commences. 

[Ah, if only I could design all of this into a game, or at least get some form of music, but maybe if I learn how to do so, though until then, here we go:

Battle Title - “Manifested Weapon” (Simply put, it’s just the “Manifest” song from the Sky mod and “Guns” from FNF Week 7, this song taking notes from both, but into a remixed version.) 

Battle Movements - Geovanni uses his nervous movements in “Dark Resistance” while Sky simply uses her animations from her manifest from in her original mod with just her new design from this story included. 

Battle Environment - The black void from the “Manifest” song from the Sky mod with now John Captain and Steve simply sitting on top of the speakers. 

And so, with enough flashing lights to give a small child a stroke, the sorcerer managed to wear the girl down for the moment, Sky simply falling to her knees with heavy pants.]

“W-Why…..?” Sky asked, her voice choked in tears though still demonic in sound, before slamming her fists onto what could be considered as ground repeatedly, “Whywhywhywhywhy!”

“Sky….” Geovanni called out to the girl, tossing aside the microphone before taking towards the girl as Steve tried and failed to catch the object, positioned to run after the sorcerer before being pulled back by his arm by John who gave a slow nod.

“Let him go, soldier,” the captain instructed.

“But captain, he’ll-”

“Let’s just see what happens,” John gave a large smile, “I mean, we can’t even shoot him down if we wanted to.”

“I can’t take it anymore….” Sky shook her head slowly, looking down at her blackened hands, red tears staining her palm with droplets, “What am I even doing anymore?”

“You’re being selfish,” Geovanni knelt down in front of the girl, “But who said that being selfish is a bad thing?”

Sky remained quiet, her desaturated blue ponytail splintered at its ends, a sense of confliction looming over the both of them. 

“Look, I am truly sorry if my initial intentions came off as being too…..enforced in nature, though I do want you to know that I still care about your troubles, whatever they may be,” Geovanni gave a caring yet hesitant smile, though Sky didn’t bother to look up to him, the sorcerer sighing and remaining quiet for a moment or two before looking down at his chest and giving a look of nervousness but necessary determination, “Very well, if you won’t look at me, then listen to this.”

Without a word, Geovanni grabbed onto his necklace from beneath his shirt and removed it, the magical circles that surrounded him dissipating one by one as both John and Steve looked on in bewilderment and surprise, instinctually aiming their guns at the sorcerer who didn’t even flinch, nor give either of them any mind, tossing the necklace in front of Sky who jolted, not expecting such an action, before looking up at the sorcerer with a look of concern.

“I am Geovanni Gouge, guardian of prosperity and peace, sorcerer of the arcane arts, son of God the Allfather, and wise scholar of this world,” Geovanni placed his hand on his heart with a respectful expression. 

“Geova-” but before Sky could finish the sorcerer’s name, he immediately embraced the girl in his arms, a moment of peace racing through both of them.

“But before all the titles of the world, I am your friend, listener to all your problems, honest fixer of half as many, tender and caretaker of all individuals, no matter how undeserving they may be, and the giver of secondary chances in every person’s life,” Geovanni finished, hugging an already astonished Sky with a sincere gesture.

The girl remained static for a moment before tears began forming in her eyes once more, Sky huggin the sorcerer tightly, her claws still ever present, meaning that they were digging into his back, though he did not mind, especially since he wanted the girl to trust him, not only for the mission, but as friends. 

“I-I’m….I-I-”

“Shhh, it’s alright…” Geovanni gently stroked the girl’s back.

Sky simply closed her eyes as the ripples escaped her once more, racing through the ground out into the abyss of darkness before the world compacted once again, white walls crashing into all four of them before the group found themselves back in the military zone, the black liquid retreating back into Sky’s fingertips as she slowly let the sorcerer go, wiping some tears from her face. 

“I’m sorry for that….” Sky quickly apologized once again, “I always lose control over things like these, like a stupid kid.”

“Sky, you’re not stupid,” Geovanni shook her head, “You’re different, and that’s not a bad thing.”

“Yeah, you’re alright, kid,” John admitted, “I mean, not as good as me, but you’ll get there.”

“And you’re a really good person too, making all those PB&Js for our men,” Steve added, “You’re amazing!”

“They’re the only thing I know how to make…” Sky rubbed her arm in embarrassment.

“And that’s fine,” Geovanni consoled the girl, “No one ever asks you to be perfect.”

Sky remained silent with a heavy sigh, all her anger, her guilt, and her shame melting through this tranquil yet melancholy moment.

“Someone does…” she responded, not even  waiting for the sorcerer to answer before slowly pointing to her head, “Me.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, especially when you’re helping other people by doing good things as a good person,” the sorcerer placed his hand on her shoulder with a confident nod.

“.......back in New Jersey, my New Jersey from the real world outside of this one, I’m just a normal girl going to high school, but the real world is just so mean and boring, so I decided to watch videos of luckier people who get to do exciting things, and something that made everyone happy was playing this game, Friday Night Funkin,” Sky explained, Geovanni listening in with intent, trying fairly hard not to break into the existential crisis Sky was perhaps expecting him to, “So, I bought the game and started playing it, and when I first saw Boyfriend, he was the most adorable and funniest person I’ve ever seen, and I could even somewhat understand what he was saying most of the time. 

He was the key that I needed to change my life around.

I wanted to be with him…..I needed to be with him.

I never wanted anyone else but me to win over his heart.

So I did what everybody was doing at school…...mystical and mysterious spells that kinda knew weren’t even real in the first place, but I was so desperate and obsessed that I didn’t even care, so I hoped and prayed that it would work.

I got the candles, the red paint, whatever I needed, and I even cut my palms and legs in order to get the blood that I needed, all under the lie of a “school project” that my parents had no idea was fake. 

I guess if you want something hard enough, you get it, huh?

The spell worked and I was transported here, but it still wasn’t enough, I wasn’t enough for Boyfriend yet.

I dyed my hair, got a shirt like him, did everything to be like him so that he would see that I was just more than one of the hundreds of fans he had gotten in this world…..and that’s when I learned about my manifest.

It helps me create these pocket realities and within them, I could trap anything I wanted and create anything I hoped or dreamed of from thin air, and there was this voice every time I transformed, a thousand whispers that would tell me that I was going to be perfect, that I would get the boy of my dreams, as long as I did what they said.

Guess I let them get into my head too. 

Boyfriend beat me through his rap skills, and I was alone again with the voices who also went silent.

So I decided to keep a closer eye on him, to win him next time.

I decided to enroll in a school near Daddy Dearest's home since Boyfriend constantly passed by to show his skills against some of the best musicians in that building, and he always won, so I tried and failed to get his attention because of his Girlfriend.

All of the friends I made got news of this, and they got back at me, constantly bullying me and calling me a weirdo, so I snapped back at them, telling them that I could just delete them if I wanted to, but they just laughed, called me crazy and saying things like “if that’s true, then it's even sadder that you need a computer to make friends that aren’t even real” the whole day long.

I was done with everything and everyone, but this world was still better than going back to a boring old one, so I stayed and looked around, trying to find a purpose that would help me know what to do next. 

Desperate to try again, but knowing I would fail in being Boyfriend’s wife, I came here, trying to go to the next town since Melo Dee ran out of hair dye, and I didn’t want him to see me with my ugly brown hair, so I walked and found these guys who took care of me and helped me.

I found my place here strangely, so I never went to search for my hair dye and Corporal John Captain told me I could stay with them if I wanted, so I did.

And you know the rest.”

“Oh Sky…..I’m so sorry you had to experience such terrible events,” Geovanni couldn’t quite place his sympathy into the right words, though he could see that the girl was still thankful for them, “I know how it feels to be different, to have all of your dreams crushed under a false sense of hope, feeling useless and without a clear path in life, but…...no, nevermind.”

“You don’t have to lie if you still need me,” Sky stood up, pulling the sorcerer up as well, the man giving a nervous smile.

“Apologies, but I’ve tried this once already, and it didn’t go too well,” Geovanni laughed.

“Now look who’s apologizing,” Sky placed her hands in her pocket before sighing and giving a small shrug, “Alright, what do you need me for?”

“Are you sure you wish to know?” Geovanni asked, his hesitation more extreme than her’s.

“3...2...1..” Sky counted before the sorcerer frantically waved his arms for her to stop.

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you!” he took a deep breath before continuing, “There is a primordial entity of disharmony, chaos, and destruction called the Corrupta Nigrum that aims to destroy our entire reality, the being itself being large enough that even the smallest section of it is enough to combine and corrupt an entire universe, ours being one of the next to fall, and a piece of it lies within you, giving you abilities.”

“That seems to check out,” Sky responded nonchalantly with a shrug, “And where do I come in?”

“That is a bit more complicated, a plan in the works,” Geovanni scratched his head bashfully, “Though what I can tell you, and this may change your mind of assisting us, if you haven’t already, this being the fact that the monster lays dormant, waiting for the one true gateway that allows itself to bring its biggest piece to our world and destroy all of reality…….and that gateway is Girlfriend.”

He could see the small twitch in Sky’s eye, though the girl hid her anger underneath a fake smile.

“Well, that makes a lot of sense, considering she’s the special child and all,” the girl rolled her eyes, “But that won’t change my mind, if that’s what you’re thinking.

I’ll help you since you’ve done so to help me, and in the span of about two hours which is pretty impressive.” 

“Thank you, truly,” Geovanni gave a small bow, a gesture which simply caused Sky to burst out in laughter.

“You’re still very weird though,” the girl wiped her tears, these of happiness, from her face, looking over at John and Steve, the former of whom was nowhere to be seen as always, “Yo, Steve, tell Corporal I’ll be taking that two week vacation notice in order to to save the world.”

“I don’t think he ever gave you vacation,” Steve replied, “We don’t even get paid!”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who makes your sandwiches, so I’m leaving for now,” Sky waved the tankman goodbye, Steve being left to ponder about their pay raise in this apocalyptic setting of a duty. 

Geovanni and Sky made their way back towards the entrance of the battlefield, the former getting shot at every so often, but having already put back his necklace, he was completely invulnerable to the men’s bullets, those who did shoot simply receiving a glare from Sky, passing by Rex and Mike who were indeed playing Yatzee, though only one of them had a pair of dice, so each would have to throw each die at each other, hoping it wouldn’t fall off, this being a understandably terrible process. 

“So, where am I staying?” Sky asked.

“At the local city church where a nice nun will get you accommodated and we’ll get started with our plan,” Geovanni explained, Sky blinking fast in confusion.

“I’m sorry, that place is actually running?” the girl asked.

Almost as if right on cue. The sorcerer’s phone began ringing as he picked it up, Sarv’s voice being on the other end.

“Hello Miss Sarvente, I’m accompanying Sky back to the church now,” Geovanni explained.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” he could hear the nun’s happy voice speak through the device, though her demonic tone made it nearly impossible to understand what she was saying, “Though it is weird. I called due to the fact that I sensed an individual was speaking ill of my church…..crazy, right?” 

“Absolutely,” Geovanni looked over at Sky, both giving small snickers, “Alright, I’ll see you later then?”

“See you soon!” Sarv finished, Ruv giving a groan in the background before the phone was hung up.

And so, the sorcerer’s hand on Sky’s shoulder, both continued walking, the small silence between the two being a welcome change from the contrast gunshots from the battlefield, a nice time for quiet reflection and contemplation on one’s own purpose in life, something that changes as much as a person can change, and switch their past self into a new form.

“Wait, so I actually get to kill Girlfriend?” Sky asked out of the blue.

“Sky!” Geovanni scolded as the girl simply giggled.

“Kidding, kidding!” she replied. 

Well, at times, little steps are also an option. 

- End Of Part 3 -

Friday Night Funkin’ is an open-source donationware rhythm game developed by Cameron “ninjamuffin99” Taylor, David “PhantomArcade” Brown, Isaac “kawaisprite” Garcia, and evilsk8r.

Mid-Fight Masses is a Friday Night Funkin’ Game Mod by Dokki.doodlez and all respective characters associated with it are also owned by said creator.

Sky was a mod made by bbpanzu and character inspired by bfswifeforever. 

[screamingforyears]

BEST OF 2017: ALBUM OF THE YEAR

I firmly believe that an ALBUM OF THE YEAR (or your favorite album for those who are less dramatic) should be one that has made the biggest impact on the listener. Whether that impact is an emotional, mental, or a physical one depends on you. An album of the year doesn’t have to be the most technically sound, or hell, even an album that you’ll listen to a few years down the road, it should be an album that is of its time and place.

I’ve been making these corny ass lists for over 17 years now and when I look back at some of my previous choices, I’m a little embarrassed (I’m looking at you early 2000′s), however, I remember exactly what kind of impact said embarrassments made at that time. One thing I’ve noticed over the years is that some of the most impactful albums were the ones I didn’t quite see coming, or the ones I had no overbearing expectations for.

That being said, this year’s choice was one that I was anxiously awaiting ever since I was blown away by their debut two short years ago. After some serious nail biting and needlessly stressful nights spent pouring over the many amazing albums that came out this year, I decided to go with one that made me rethink my priorities and what music meant to me in 2017. I went with an album that spoke to me on a gut level, one that combined raw musicality with wordsmith wit......

Ok ok, enough with all that mishegas, let’s get down to brass tacks and declare SCREAMING.FOR.YEARS’ ALBUM OF THE YEAR choice….

GOLD CLASS

‘DRUM’

FELTE

GOLD CLASS returned in 2017 and graced us with their second Long Player, the appropriately titled ‘DRUM,’ and it’s a heavy beat. 

The Melbourne based group, consisting of Mark Hewitt (Drums), Evan James Purdey (Guitars), Jon Shub (Bass), and Adam Curley (Vocals) have side-stepped any notion of a sophomore slump as their latest LP sees Gold Class continuing their skyward ascent.

You can mix n’ match a few different combinations to come up with who Gold Class resemble and they’ll most likely be dead on. Everyone is influenced by someone(s) these days, the trick is finding the right combo to make it interesting and Gold Class have done just that. It’s as if Gold Class have taken the two types of music I grew up on (post-hardcore & post-punk) and melded them together in glorious fashion. Quite frankly I’m jealous for not thinking of it first.

Honestly, 'Drum’ took some time to grow on me, it was nowhere near as (viper) teeth sinking as their debut, which is the highest of compliments. The insane staying power and “grower” ability of their newest record shows a group that’s in it for the long haul.

The group I often compare Gold Class to is The Smiths, which is always a move that’s guaranteed to raise a few eyebrows or wrinkle a few blouses (pronounced blue-says). The Smiths were always more than just a music group, they were an aesthetic long before there was such a thing, they were an experience, one that embodied a relentless spirit and gang-like devoutness. And yes, Gold Class aren’t there (yet) as far as popularity, but this is a different era, where music is consumed much differently, but what links them to Manchester’s dour sons is the attitude and sheer scope in knowing who and what they are.  

There’s something to be said about a band who exudes a quiet confidence, yet adheres to a take-all exuberance, which I’ve had the pleasure in witnessing twice in a very low-key and intimate setting. I’ve seen the group take the stage, which was nothing more than a floor and command the room as if they were playing a grand hall. I was there when they invaded America and I bore witness to this quiet professionalism, and raw magnetism.

Gold Class, just like The Smiths, is a classic four-piece: a drummer, a bass player, a guitarist, and a stand alone singer. A band whose parts equal the whole and where each individual member is the master of their instrument, where four people make one another better. Mark Hewitt is a fucking beast on the drum kit and was a focal point of their live show (Hewitt amicably departed after the recording of the album giving way to new skin basher Logan Gibson) with Evan Purdey and Jon Shub bringing out the most of their respected guitars while allowing the center stage to belong to Adam Curley.

Curley’s lyrics cut in a way that I haven’t experienced in a very long time, I first noticed this with 2014′s classic and very Smiths-like“Michael,” there was just something different and timeless in what he was conveying and how he was delivering it. That delivery owes as much to vocal powerhouses like Danzig as it does Morrissey, but it’s in those words where Curley takes the crown as this generation's poet laureate.

I’m a total lyrics guy, but the older I get and the more I’m faced with an endless stream of music to chose from, the less I find myself honing in on words, and that’s where Curley has jolted me back into the wordsmith’s world. He’s also fully embraced the role of the sexual power broker, in the same way Moz became a worldwide de facto sexy symbol. He challenges the notion of sexual veracity and conveys this through powerful imagery and cheekiness.

“Twist In the Dark” is the opening salvo and sets the tone with a banger like force and finds Curley wailing, providing another fine example of what the Melbourne based group do so very well: driving post-punk with hints of post-hardcore. The vocals are front & center, while surrounded by straight to the point and precise instrumentation (never sleep on a classic four-piece setup). Guitars ring out, the bass sets the pace, and the drumming is top-shelf while Curley is Curley (which if you haven’t been paying attention, is a wonderful thing.)

There’s no stopping “Rose Blind” with its menace like drum beat and forceful nature, while deploying phrases like “barricades & ecstasy” & “I’m yours, you’re mine” in a Moz-like fervor. The Melbourne lads have essentially rewritten the rules when it comes to melding the facets of angular post-punk, stop n’ start post-hardcore, and the moody pleasures of goth. “Rose Blind” muscles its way out of the gate, clearing a path for Curley’s stoic croon and the coalescing of softness & brutality. The one-two opening of bass & drums cast the anchor before that voice jumps in along with guitars that are twangy raw, creating one lean machine.

“Get Yours” is a relentlessly cheeky affair, surging with spitfire fury, rumbling bass, and a stutter beat that anchors sensuality laced threats like “Bang like a whip boy………You’re the wrecking ball I’ve been waiting for” while “Bully” finds Purdey’s guitar snaking throughout as Curley purrs “bully like us” atop a locked in rhythm.

Album standout “Trouble Fun” is the mid-tempo number that Gold Class has perfected to a tee. The soft delay opening gives way to an outpouring of sentimental acidity. “I’m a Holy Ghost with a golden touch, Good in the belly not good for much, I’m the best lay when you give me some, Is it trouble” is one hell of an opening line while later reminding us to “don’t give me the sun, all I want is trouble fun, pulled apart in one.”

“Thinking of Strangers” rides the guitar riff and maintains a punchy feel while “We Were Never Too Much” finds Curley burning “heaven knows we were never too much” under a breathy melody.

“Mercurian” is a slow burning bummer, simmering something wicked while allowing the album to breathe and setting up the final run with the tightly wound “Place We Go” which is so GD sticky and refused to leave my head days after hearing it as I kept recalling the extra “ooooh oooohhh” refrain that Curley threw in there just to torture me.

“Lux” is bouncy and serves as the album’s closing statement while continuing the nuanced lyrical display with cutting lines like “I’m pulling skin to make myself new” and “I no longer answer to the past”in a stretched out phrase that Curley has mastered in his short time at the helm.

Gold Class is a world conquering unit, professional & fiercely powerful who has enough of an ear for the past to truly standout in the present. Clocking in with a perfectly lean run-time (NO LP should have more than 10 tracks) the group have proven that they’re no flash in the pan as they’ve created an album that grows greater with each subsequent listen.

Barricades & ecstasy…..

[nananaptime]

GOT7 Yugyeom 5 for the AU prompt?

Eggs, milk and a tall boy

MasterlistRules

Prompt game

Prompt 5: ‘I was listening to music and didn’t realise that I was dancing in public and you saw everything’

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1 001

The gravel crunched under my shoes as I walked down the path leading up to my house. Mom had interrupted my late night jamming and sent me to buy some milk and eggs which I had grudgingly agreed to do. It’s not easy saying no to that woman. Bluetooth headphones and exited the warmth of my house. It was a cold autumn night, just a couple of weeks before Halloween and my mom was dead set on staring So, after receiving the money needed from my mother I grabbed my precious all the Halloween baking already, hence the need for extra eggs and dairy products. With a glance at the sky, my spirits were lifted as I admired the stars, they always calmed me down. Then I remembered that I had something to do and with that, I put the headphones on my head and started walking towards the centre of town. Scrolling through the songs on my never-ending playlist I successfully avoided small puddles of water left after the rain that had been pouring a couple of hours earlier. Deciding on one song is way too hard and time-consuming so I finally gave up and shuffled the playlist instead, letting it surprise me.

A smile made its way to my face when NCT’s Cherry Bomb came on and I instantly jumped right into singing along to the lyrics, bobbing my head along at the same time. With the music video in my head, I subconsciously tried to imitate the few dance moves I remembered, anyone could guess that I looked like a dying whale. Dancing has never been anything I possess any talent in but that has never stopped me from jamming my heart out whenever I felt like it, mostly when no one else was around to witness my excited outlet. Another song came on, this one being Love City by 9Muses, and once again my body started moving on its own accord. Luckily I was normal enough to restrain myself once I entered the store, desperately trying to look like a normal human being.

As I grabbed a new packet of eggs I heard a slight giggle in between the song that just ended and the one following. I snapped my head up at the sound and locked eyes with a tall boy in another aisle. Raising my right eyebrow at him, I silently asked what his deal was. He just half smirked, half smiled at me before shaking his head and continuing on his way, leaving me confused. I tried not to think about him as I made my way to the milk and grabbed the last one left, while I did this I felt weirdly watched as if someone was staring at me. Looking around, I caught no one paying me any attention and shrugged, trying to push the thought to the back of my head.

The cue was short when I approached it and within five minutes I was out, surrounded by the cold winter air once again. I looked around a couple of times to make sure that no one was there as a witness, and then I started my dancing as I walked back once again. This time to HookGA by High4 20. Trying to look cool I flailed my arms in every direction, hoping that I didn’t look like a freak and that the eggs would still be intact once I made it home.

Halfway there I felt someone slip my phone out of my back pocket and in sheer panic, I turned around and slapped the person in the face.

“Ow!” The person dropped my phone, which thankfully landed on the grass lawn not too far away, and cupped his cheek in pain. Eventually, I realised that it was the same guy that had been smirking at me in the store and the only thing I could muster to say was.

“Were you following me?” He glared at me slightly and straightened up, brushing off his clothes to show that he didn’t think my slap hurt, which it probably did.

“No, I’m going to the bus stop.” He pointed at the sign with a bus on it located a few meters ahead and I instantly felt a bit guilty. Then I noticed my phone on the lawn and the annoyance was back in my body.

“Why the hell would you try and steal my phone.” I picked it up and inspected it for any cracks, to my relief, I didn’t find any.

“I wasn’t trying to steal your phone, I was trying to change the song.” I must have looked like a question mark because he rolled his eyes at my slowness. “I wanted to see how you would dance to one of my songs.” that’s when it hit me. He had seen me dance. Probably before entering the store too since he was giving me that look. My face heated up instantly and I turned around, not ready to deal with the embarrassment, and tried walking away from there.

“No, wait!” the guy grabbed my wrist and made me stop and look at him. He was smirking once again and now it was my time to roll my eyes. “I’m Yugyeom.”

“So?” I didn’t even plan on seeing this dude again.

“So now you know the name of your dance teacher.” I gave him an unbelievable look. “You suck and dancing, you know. I thought it would be a noble cause to offer you a helping hand.” I just shook my head and started walking away from there again.

“Not a chance dude.” Once again he grabbed my hand but this time only to put something in it; a note.

“Meet me at that location tomorrow at noon, I added my number as well in case something comes up.” he then gave me a wink and stepped on the bus which had just arrived.

Well, I learnt something from this experience at least; never dance in public again.

[makemyskinyoursanctuary]

Peach. I’ve never had something stop world completely in it’s tracks before. I’ve never lost someone so close to me. Tom LaClaire you will never understand how much I’m going to miss you, how I miss you and how much I’ve missed you since things for you got rough. I don’t know who I’d be if I never met you. There’s so many parts of me that wouldn’t exist without our friendship. I’ve never had to deal with something this unbearablle. Somehow in elementary school we crossed paths. I think it was because of pop warner. We discovered that we lived seven houses apart on the same street our entire lives, but because I lived on the even side and you lived on the odd, I went to Jefferson and you went to General Herkimer. It wasn’t until middle school that we became close and eventually inseparable. We walked to and from school together, watited before homeroom together, ate lunch together, had all our classes together, grew up together and figured out our place in the world little by little together. I remember when we decided we were punk/skaters, back when I still wore boy clothes, frizzy hair and glasses. We only cared about listening to better music and not being a poser. We were pretty much losers looking back, but I wouldn’t change it. We always have our “most musical” superlative picture in the 8th grade yearbook to remind us about how fashion forward we weren't with our jelly bands, safety pins and dickies. I think that was the same year Option One came to be. Why on earth did you think covering Enya was going to make that band famous? Let’s also not forget Chance Clothing. Designed mostly in our Math A class. Which also happens to be where we decided my name would be way cooler if I spelled it with 2 ms. You spelled your name Tomm for a week until you gave up because you kept forgetting. The same summer we came up with The Frozen skate team and Sweet Stuff skateboards-Plain Turkey forever. Everyday we would load that god forsaken skate box on to the shopping cart we took from Price Chopper and go down to the Eckards parking lot and skate until we had to be home for dinner. You taught me how to ollie and kick flip there. I never said thank you for not giving up on me. When we started high school we sat on the bus everyday. This is when music really started to mean more than anything to us. We used to sharpie Senses Fail lyrics onto the seats of the bus and then for whatever reason melt the seats with a lighter. Yet another thing we did that I’ll never understand. I wish you were here. I wish you were in front of me laughing at the millions of memories we share. I wish you came to see Senses Fail and Silverstein with me like we talked about a couple months ago. You know once everyone learned to drive and got their own cars friendships shifted, but not ours. I don’t think we ever grew out of being weirdos either because when we got our matching Cavaliers after you sold that clunky Dodge Spirit, we switched your white bumper with my black one to make our cars look like pandas. I don’t think I’ve ever driven a car you haven’t worked on. I don’t think I have a single memory of high school that doesn’t involve you or even after high school. Even though you went away and I stayed at MV, we saw each other. We didn't bail on our friendship. You would just show up at my moms door step and ask if i’d make you plain white rice. Eventually we moved out of our parents houses but nothing changed then either. I think we just got our first shitty kitchen tattoos and went to the mall less. I even ended up moving into your apartment above the cafe with the STUPID chalkboard wall that became the bane of my existance. About a year into living in that building things began to very slowly change. We went to Space 26 when it was still awesome. Carved pumpkins and went to see Circa/Anthony Green a bunch. You got engaged and did roller derby. We came up with that idea for the Sticks and Stones promos and I did FX make up on you then you sent pictures convincing people you were in a car accident. I think I could sit up for year straight and just replay memories over the past 15 - 20 years. It wasn’t until I moved away that we really lost touch. I think that’s mostly my fault for secluding myself from a lot of things. But even then we could still rely on each other. I don’t know how you didn’t get sick of me sending you videos or sound clips of weird noises that would come out of my cars. It broke my heart when we last talked a few months ago. I knew I could still turn to you but it was the first time I felt like you couldn’t let yourself lean on me. You wouldn’t let me in. I’ll never get the chance to tell you how much I loved you again or how amazing I thought you were. I’ll never get to laugh about all the dumb trouble we got in. Like when you convinced me to go to see Borat the day after I got my wisdom teeth out (you actually walked down to visit me after the surgery) and drove the car over the random fallen bush ripping off the Brad Lonero’s bumper or when we decided it was a good idea to skateboard inside JFK and then convinced a bunch of the guys to jump in the erie canal in man thongs. Life was much simpler then. I don’t know how to say goodbye you. There’s always going to be a hole in my heart. I love you Thomas Peach LaClaire. Thanks for being in my life. Thanks for shaping who I am today. Rest easy until I get there. I wrote this almost a year ago. Today I heard Senses Fail and instantly every shit feeling came rushing back. I miss you. I'll never regret anything more in my entire life than not speaking up louder. You were better than heroine. You were better than meth. You were better than coke. You just couldn't see it. I feel like drugs are consuming everything in an arms length. I can't even drink without feeling guilty anymore. You'd laugh at how prude I've become. I think about the way you'd laugh more than anything else about you.

[nomdy-plume]

Messin’ in Texas

Taking some well-earned rest at the moment, staying with my girlfriend in Austin, Texas: self-proclaimed ‘live music capital of the world!’ Well, that may be true but what I am mostly here for is a month’s break away from music (kinda) and lots of sunbathing, eating of the delicious food found round these parts and – naturellement – a little smoochie-smoochie, hootchie-cootchin’ with my lady.

Having managed to actually enjoy the last few weeks of the previous contract (can you imagine! How hard could it be to foster a happy environment amongst the entertainment team?!?!), avoided doing any permanent damage to hands, fingers, voices or mental health and – importantly – not been fired for any ‘Charlie Sheen Cruise’ hilarity, we made it back to the UK safely and had two weeks of putting together a new promo film and re-acquainting ourselves with various family members.

Had two days recording the music for the promo at LT’s place in north London; was pretty efficient, seven or eight songs (only a short burst from each, edited together into one, slick showreel) and a tonne of fun messing around with it. We wanted a show-offy guitar solo to include in there so I did a few takes of the most over-the-top, mindless noodly-shred I could muster.  

“That’s amazing… try another take but this time do something different with the ending… unbelievable, just loving it… that’s crazy! Wow… I really like the ending from the last take, might splice that onto the end of the first take…”

“Great! Thanks! So, we’re going to use that on the promo?”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous, we can’t use any of this… It’s way too much! This is just for personal entertainment value. No, you’ll have to do something way more restrained for the actual promo…”

What larks. Helps that drummer is a production genius – you know, one of those borderline, idiot-savant, naturals who could make a dog farting in a biscuit tin sound like Sunday service at Winchester cathedral. So – with only a very bare, hardly-worth-mentioning, amount of pro-toolings to square off some of my vocal notes (just gently nudging them into place at the important bits…) we were done with the audio track and we enjoyed a really good curry while we were at it.

Drummer likes hot curries – LT and meself are complete wussies. Tried some of his vindaloo (“..it’s only a nice, flavoursome vindaloo, it’s not a hot one…”), spent next hour trying to man up and not display weakness to the group. Good times.

Afterwards had a few days back with the family: enjoyed some beautiful dog-walking up and down the valley with my youngest niece and managed to get some domestic situations addressed. Was pretty chill – was nice running errands, discovered an amazing tailor in town (in whose hands I hope to be placing considerable sums of monies in exchange for some outfits!) – but interrupted by need to travel right to the very north of the country to meet the drummer for a bit of video recording.

What might easily have been quite a stressful and disappointing exercise turned out to be super-sweet (a sign I am taking as a good portent of things to come with this new band). Met the bassist which the drummer has vouched for: seems a great, positive guy as well as being a competent musician. Found a music venue 5 mins up the road from him with a stage and some lights and an afternoon for us to set up a shoot and prance around a bit, miming to the audio track recorded the previous week.

With the help of one of his mates, the drummer directed proceedings with LT having creative say and myself and bassist to lug equipment in or out of the way. Historically, these shoots can be annoying, imagine miming/apeing/smiling/dancing your way through the same 7 minute piece of music somewhere between 20-50 times.  It can be wearing, especially if your budget doesn’t exist past what you currently happen to have on you in your pocket at the time.

But, we got a good, vibey lighting on the stage and the drummer once again displayed what can only be described as a ‘knack’ for smashing out these things. All the angles were taken and we even got to wrap the shoot a couple of hours early. LT and I had long drives back home so it was nice to get a headstart and beat rush hour.

Did manage to get a speeding ticket on the way back home though: oh well… there was a part of the motorway which had been reduced to 40mph and I, spotting the national speed limit sign ahead, had been a little too hasty to accelerate and hadn’t seen the camera.  Would not be proud of speeding in a built up area but as this was on the motorway…

So, a few more days chilling with family before getting through the trauma of the one-year anniversary of my father’s death. Not – as you could understand – a big, happy time for us… my mum did a lot of crying… my sister and I kept each other’s spirits up… was nice to have other family members nearby, sad to see them under such circumstance but there will be other, happier, times to come.

Then I was off on a train to get to the hotel by the airport ahead of my flight to Austin! A long-awaited re-union with my lady (9 months since I had waved her off at Dublin airport the previous summer…) and some much-deserved ‘r n’ blinkin’, mummy-huggin’ r’!

So long, dark storminess of the UK: hello 90 degrees and sunshine! See ya later, land of Boots Meal Deals and M&S sushi portions, what’s up! home of unbelievable, tasty nomness everywhere you look!

Just a little down the track from Gatwick airport, I was messaging the lovely lady and checking my itinerary when I spotted a minor flaw in procedings: although it was great to be just outside Gatwick airport, I noted from my boarding details that I would actually be required a little nearer to Heathrow airport if I was to have any chance of boarding.

BUGGER.

It literally wouldn’t have been an authentic travelling experience between my good lady and myself if there hadn’t been at least one massive cock up.

“Honey! That’s great! Now I’M not the last person to make a stupid mistake! How thoughtful of you! xxx”

I knew she’d see the funny side. Oh well, I could catch a coach to Heathrow in the morning and still be there in plenty of time for a proper breakfast. So, that’s what I did.

Had the dream transatlantic flight experience, too: the whole row to myself, there was hardly anybody on board. 10hrs spent lounging in comparative comfort, saw three films I really wanted to see (Green Book: Vice and Whiplash), did a little napping, did a little eating and then landed slap bang in the middle of Texas!

It’s been amazing so far: I will have to head home in a month or so to go and earn some more money to fund this international lifestyle, so I have to enjoy every minute. The food is unbelievable… we always used to joke in the UK about how fat Americans are but quite frankly the only fat people I’ve seen here are Brits who can’t believe how good all the food is here. I’m one of them!

Or I would be if it weren’t for the fact that I cycle 50 miles a week with the missus up and down the stunning Colorado river to downtown and back, as well as having a pretty tidy gym in the apartment complex.  Have also been doing a lot of yoga because my better half likes it too and it’s the best thing for your body by far.

Austin has amazing electric bikes and scooters, cheap to hire and found all over the city, so getting about has never been more fun. In the glorious weather we have right now, cruising the cycle paths along the river has been a truly blessed experience. Plus, you know, I’m slowly recovering my dignity after consuming a heroic amount of custard on the last ship.

Just love it here - the quality of life is off the charts. America is a strange, massive, complicated place but Austin is, as the people are rightly proud of, a weird blue dot in the middle of the sea of Texas red. And long may it stay so!

I’ve been keeping an eye on emails and messages: sounds like the promo vid has been doing the business in terms of eyeing up a next contract. Need to get back (eventually… boo!), sort out some rehearsals, buy some matching outfits and then on to the next nautical adventure!