#greasy guitarist

[softest-butch]

rewatching we are lady parts again just to feel something

[harrisonstories]

George Harrison with his mother Louise (1964)

NOTE: This is an article from The Guardian posted in 2007 which I happened to come across. It's long but a lovely read. Enjoy!

With love from her to me In 1963, like many girls, Lilie Ferrari had a crush on George Harrison. When she wrote to him, she scarcely expected a reply, but an admiring letter did come back - from his mother. It was the start of an extraordinary, enduring correspondence In 1963, I was 14 and, like almost every girl in Britain, I fell in love with a Beatle. "My" Beatle was George Harrison. From the first photograph I saw of the Fab Four, I was drawn to his dark eyes, serious face and enigmatic demeanour. He rarely smiled, even when he was being funny, and this made him all the more mysterious and enticing. Compared to the uncouth boys I had to deal with at school every day, George was a delicate, idealised vision of what I thought boys ought to be like. If he had pimples, I never saw them. If he swore, I never heard it. I never saw his hair greasy, his armpits damp, his shoes scuffed. In short, he was perfect.

We had just moved to Norwich, and I had missed a Beatles concert by a few weeks; but a girl in my class had somehow obtained all the Beatles' home addresses (I daren't think how, looking back) and was selling them at playtime for half a crown each. A bargain, I thought, handing over my two-and-six eagerly. Immediately upon the exchange, 174 Mackets Lane, Liverpool, became the repository of all my fantasies.

That day I hurried home to compose my first letter to George. I had discovered the joy of words, and wasn't about to be intimidated into single syllables by writing to a Beatle. I don't remember exactly what I wrote, but in spite of my best intentions I suspect it was a gauche jumble of repressed adoration, along the lines of "You're the best Beatle" and "I much prefer From Me to You to Come On by the Stones". I don't remember waiting for the postman every morning. By then the Beatles had started their journey into the stratosphere (it was the year the term Beatlemania was coined) and I guess I assumed I was too small a cog in the great Beatle wheel to merit any kind of response.

But one day a letter with a Liverpool postmark did come, addressed to me in careful looped handwriting. I opened it with trembling fingers and, instead of a letter from George, found one from his mum, Louise.

After a few niceties and general bulletins about "the boys'" progress, a question leaped off the page: "Are you," she asked, "by any chance related to a writer called Ivy Ferrari, who writes doctor-and-nurse romances?"

I bellowed a great scream that brought the family running: my mother was Ivy Ferrari, a romantic novelist churning out Mills & Boon paperbacks with titles like Nurse at Ryminster, Doctor at Ryminster, Almoner at Ryminster. I couldn't believe it - I might be a fan of her son, but Mrs Harrison was evidently a fan of my mother. I felt as if I had been raised from one among millions to a special place in Mrs Harrison's head.

Of course I wrote back to tell her that I was indeed Ivy Ferrari's daughter. I was happy to have made the connection - but so, it seemed, was she. I couldn't quite grasp it. Beatles were glamorous; my mum was a harassed woman with inky fingers, unruly hair and scruffy skirts who sweated over a typewriter all day. How could they compare? In the past I might have been indifferent to the overwrought love lives of the fictional staff of Ryminster hospital, but now they seemed to take on a glamour of their own. George never wrote to me, and my mother never wrote to Mrs Harrison, but the two of us began a correspondence that lasted for several years - years that took her from the Mackets Lane council house to a smart bungalow in Appleton, George from gangling teenage guitarist to married man, and me from schoolgirl to young woman.

I sent Mrs Harrison signed copies of my mother's novels. She sent me signed pictures of the Beatles. I asked her intense questions ("Which one is your favourite, besides George?" Answer: "John, because he does the tango with me in the kitchen and makes me laugh"). She interrogated me about the mysteries of my mother's creations, such as whether my mum knew any real doctors like Dr David Callender. ("He was fairly tall and tough-looking, with tawny-brown hair and a lean, intent face. His eyes were dark and compelling, so full of fire and life they drew me like a magnet . . .")

On my 15th birthday, Mrs Harrison sent me a small piece of blue fabric, part of a suit George had worn at the Star Club in Hamburg. Once, I got a crumpled newspaper cutting containing a photo of the Beatles with their scribbled signatures on it, and a big lipstick kiss, which, she said, had been planted there by John Lennon.

She sent me notes that George wrote her on used envelopes: "Dear Mum, get me up at 3, love George." She wrote on the backs of old Christmas cards and odd bits of paper - I never knew why. She told me funny stories about her upbringing in Liverpool, a world of men in caps on bikes and old ladies with jugs of gin. I told her about my life in Norfolk, about my sisters, my pony, the dog, my mother. I told her things I didn't tell anyone else - my fear of failure, my terrible, hidden shyness, my longing to have real adventures, lead a different kind of life to the quiet, rural existence I endured. She was my invisible friend, the silent recipient of everything I had to say.

She always answered my questions, and offered up teasing glimpses of life as the mother of a superstar - "I'm sitting by the pool with Pattie. Had a lovely time at the film premiere" - remarks tantalisingly combined with more mundane observations about knitting and cakes. Of course I never mentioned "real" boys who had caught my eye - that would have been somehow unfaithful to George. That was the only omission I can remember - apart from never articulating how I felt about her son, because I wanted her to think of me as a "normal" girl, and not the wide-eyed obsessive I really was.

After several years the gaps between our exchanges grew longer, as real life began to get in the way of teenage fantasies. I can't remember which of us wrote the last letter, but by the time I was 18 and working in London, the correspondence had petered out.

Soon after we had slipped from each other's lives, I found myself standing a few feet away from George himself, in the Apple boutique on London's Baker Street. He looked tired and unapproachable. The George that I had conjured up in the kitchen of Mackets Lane, propping notes for his mum on the mantelpiece, seemed a kinder, gentler prospect than the gaunt-looking superstar standing before me who might just tell me to get lost. He was close enough to speak to, but I've never been sorry that I backed away in silence.

Mrs Harrison died in 1970 when I was 21. I remember reading about it in the papers. I grieved for her on my own, and remembered her small acts of kindness to a girl in Norfolk she had never met. Her son, of course, made an enormous mark on my life without ever knowing it. I even married someone who embodied all the things I thought George represented: quiet strength, spirituality, the same dry humour, the dark good looks. My husband Colin had been, among other things, a roadie and the owner of punk record shops. Fortunately, he also had a sense of humour and a high level of tolerance. He learned to live with the omnipresence of George, and would sign cards to me "Love from George and The Other One".

As the years passed, my life came into focus and George receded. He married, had a son, as did I. I went back to live in a Norfolk cottage, while George retired to a Gothic mansion in Henley. In 1994 I went to Liverpool for the first time with Colin, as a football supporter rather than a Beatles pilgrim: Norwich City were playing at Anfield. I took time out to stand in front of 174 Mackets Lane and tried to imagine Mrs Harrison sitting at the window in the front room, answering my letters. I wanted to weep, but I didn't. When Norwich scored the winning goal that afternoon and we leapt to our feet, I cheered instead for that kindly Liverpudlian who took the time and trouble to light up my teenage years.

I've gradually lost the priceless relics of those years. They would have made me rich if I hadn't been so careless with my belongings; then again, I would never have sold them. So my side of that eccentric correspondence has all but disappeared, along with my youth.

In September 2001, Colin died of Hodgkin's disease. A month later, George was dead, too. It felt as if two distinct parts of my life had ended all at once: my dreamlike girlhood, and my real, adult life with a beloved partner and friend. But every day in my study at home, I look at something that binds these two parts together. It's a photograph of George taken in 1962 in Hamburg by Astrid Kirchherr (girlfriend of "fifth" Beatle Stuart Sutcliffe). Colin secretly sought it out, bought it, hand-made a frame for it, and gave it to me on my 40th birthday. It is one of my most treasured possessions.

[trulyumai]

pizza time!

—pairing: Eddie Munson / Reader

synopsis: with rain interrupting your plans, you and Eddie decide to have a lazy day. did someone say pizza time?

—warnings: none. just fluff!

“Eddie knock it off—!” fingers danced across your waist and around the expansion of your hips. It was a mistake telling the man how ticklish your sides were, now that he took advantage of it.

“I can’t hear you sweetheart, I think you gotta speak more clearly.” His ringed fingers didn’t end there assault, he even went as far as to blow raspberries on your neck.

“Eee— okay okay! I give!” Finally ceasing his movements, the guitarist leaned against you heavily. Panting and out of breath his hand came up to cradle your cheek. “So I win… that means pizza for dinner?” A smile broke out onto his face, showing the little laugh lines molded into his skin.

“Pizza for dinner,” you hummed. Already moving towards the dial phone to appease your needy boyfriend with the much needed greasy cheese slices.

Eddie, slouched on the couch, already wanting to reach out for your frame. Pouting, he waited as you finished the call with the restaurant, and with open palms gestured for you to come back.

“Yes, okay. Thank you Reese.”

Eddie frowned, “how the hell do you know their name?”

“Because we order every weekend, dummy.” Back in his grasp you molded against him. “Someone has a problem with indulging themselves.” Your man let out a dramatic gasp, instantly disagreeing with such a statement.

Although you were having pizza again, you were so glad these lazy days came to fruition.

It rained all day today; leaving you and Eddie to sit around and just bask in each other’s existence. The man could be happy with every day like this, but with you busy with finals and Eddie finding new gigs it was getting harder and harder to have time together.

“Do you love me?” Eddie rubbed his hands across your back, somehow trying to pull you closer. If it were possible— the man would tear his skin open for you to nestle right in.

Or was that too much?

“Of course I do! You’re my everything,” hands grasped at his cheeks, demanding his full attention and halting the wandering, nervous eyes.

“And you think im handsome?” His digits were cold against your bare skin, they lightly found their way under your (his), baggy shirt. Moving up and down comfortingly.

“I think you’re the handsomest, prettiest dungeon master in existence.”

Eddie laughed. “I am the prettiest, aren’t I?”

Humming in agreement your head leaned down and rested onto the man’s chest, now facing the little television that graced the living room.

“I can’t wait to start a life with you, baby. Little you’s wandering’ round, a cute little house.” Eddie sighed, pressing his slightly chapped lips to the base of your head.

“Woah there big guy. One step at a time,” you traced the line around his jaw. “First we need to graduate. And then we’ll go from there, hm?”

“Okay, okay, im just saying. I hope they get your eyes.” sinking back down into the smushed cushion, Eddie relaxed.

…

“Do you think the pizzas close?”

A pause.

“…No hunny.”

——

Taglist!

@ali-r3n & @anukulee (If you wish to be tagged in future Eddie Munson blurbs or stories, let me know!)

[nichuuu]

Beats Me - 4: Settle Down

Tags: Mommy kink, orgasm denial, cumshot, rough sex, Anal

The meat sizzled on the grill, grease splattering all over the place. With a pair of thongs, Eunbi flipped the slice of pork over and let it sit for a little more. The rest of the band was engaged in conversation, their chatter becoming a faint buzz in your ears as you stared off into space.

Practice hadn’t gone well that day. After Chaewon stormed out of the room, yelling about how she’d refuse to play for your band for as long as you were in it, the pugnacious brat seemed to be the only thing your mind could focus on. Memories of her came flooding back at random intervals, making you lose focus in the midst of song. You earned a record high of 6 death glares from Yeji that afternoon. 

After practice, Eunbi pushed the idea of going to eat as a band. Everyone enthusiastically jumped on the bandwagon, including Yeji—Who was peer pressured by Ryujin to come—and you wound up at a barbeque place just down the street.

Someone tapped you on your hand. You looked up and found Eunbi staring at you. Concern was written all over her face.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked quietly, careful not to alert the other band members. You smiled and sat up in your seat. 

“I-I’m fine,” You assured her. 

“You sure? You’ve been out of it since this afternoon,” The singer pressed. 

“I’m okay Eunbi,” You reiterated. Eunbi sighed and picked up the pork slice. She placed it down on your plate. 

“If there’s anything you need to talk about… I’m here. In fact, we’re here,” Eunbi smiled, gesturing towards the other band members. 

“I-I’m really fine Eunbi…” You stated. “I’m just… Thinking…”

Eunbi nodded thoughtfully and got another serving of meat going on the grill. She stared into the fire for a moment. 

“Look I… I’m sorry that I brought Chaewon in,” She muttered. “I… I should’ve known…”

“It’s alright Eunbi… I didn’t expect you to,” You comforted your singer. 

The girl sighed. She took a sip from her cup. 

“When did you guys start?” Eunbi asked. 

“Dating?” You confirmed. She nodded.

“Start of highschool,” You told her.

“When did you guys break up?” She continued. 

“About a month or two after graduation,” You replied. 

Eunbi drew in a breath. 

“Damn…  Two years together… That’s quite a bit of history,” She mused. You chuckled bitterly.

“I guess…” You mused. 

“Yo Squeaker!” Ryujin called out to you. “Be a darling and hand me the garlic would’ya?”

You grabbed the small dish of sliced garlic and slid it down the table. Your bassist caught it and shot you a wink. 

“Thanks babe,” She giggled. She’d gotten bolder with you since you first met her and you knew exactly why. 

“Ryujin seems to like you,” Eunbi told you. 

“Ryujin likes everyone,” You replied. 

“Fair enough,” Your singer hummed. “She is one hell of an extrovert.”

You nodded and took a sip of your beer, the bitter liquid washing down the aftertaste of meat. Eunbi distributed the new batch of freshly grilled beef.

“So…” She continued, dragging both of you back to the original topic—Chaewon.

“Let me guess… Why did you guys break up?” You predicted. When it came to Exes, this was a common question that was always thrown out. 

“Yea…” Eunbi muttered bashfully.

“I’d… I’d rather not talk about it,” You told her frankly. She understood and didn’t press any further into your history with Chaewon. She knew better than to re-open old wounds.

Yeji shoved the last piece of meat on her plate into her mouth. After wiping her greasy lips, she rose from her seat and shouldered her guitar bag. 

“It’s late, I’ll get going,” The guitarist declared. 

“It’s eight p.m. Yeji,” Ryujin pointed out. Yeji stepped out and pushed her chair in.

“That’s late enough for me. I have things to do. Bye guys.”

The girl turned tail and left, leaving the five of you behind. Ryujin sighed.

“That girl is too uptight,” The bassist remarked. “Someday, I’ll bring her to a party and get the fun back in her…”

“I’m sure she has her reasons for being the way she is,” Karina reasoned. “Maybe she lives  in a really serious environment.”

“Girl, she lives with her sister,” Ryujin countered. “Yeju’s the embodiment of a crackhead, and her husband is even better!”

“Who’s Yeju?” Eunbi inquired. 

“Yeji’s older sister,” Ryujin replied. “Yeji’s been living with her and her husband since she was in highschool, they got a really cosy place not too far from here. I love crashing there.”

Ryujin popped a beef slice wrapped in lettuce into her mouth and chewed it rather loudly.

“How do you know this much about Yeji?” Sakura piped. Ryujin swallowed.

“I’ve known her since middle school. She’s changed a lot since then, but the old Yeji’s somewhere in there,” Ryujin said. She took a sip from her cup then stared at the golden-yellow liquid inside it. 

“Sometimes I wonder what happened to old Yeji…” The bassist muttered. “She wasn’t like this before…”

You silently ate your slice of meat, silently observing Ryujin in her moment of thought that only lasted for a little over a second. Ryujin eventually pouted and set her glass back down.

“Oh well… I guess we’ll never know,” She sighed. She proceeded to raise her hand and call for another round of beer. 

You only left the barbeque place a little past midnight. Thanks to your self control, you managed to stay sober along with Eunbi, who had been too busy cooking for the band to take a sip out of her own glass. You held the door open for Karina, letting her walk out of the door with Ryujin straddling her back. Your bassist had once again gone to town with the alcohol, but she got knocked out this time around. 

“Jesus christ… She’s heavier than I remembered,” Karina grunted. 

“N-Need me to help?” You offered. Your pianist shook her head. 

“It’s alright Myeong-seok. I can manage her,” Karina assured you. “Kkura! Help me hail a cab will you?” 

“N-Ne!” Sakura squeaked.

“Let me give you guys a lift,” Eunbi offered.

“It’s good Eunbi… There’s a cab right there,” Karina declined, using her head to gesture to the taxi that happened to be cruising down the street. Sakura quickly ran to the sidewalk and stuck out her hand to flag it down. The vehicle came to a stop before the Japanese girl. Karina shot you and Eunbi a smile before hustling over to the cab.

“Be safe! Text when you guys are back!” Eunbi hollered. Karina yelled something in reply, but her words were muffled by the wind that blew by. Sakura opted to hop in with Karina and Ryujin at the last second, and the cab took off into the night. You stood next to Eunbi, watching as the tail light of the taxi moved further and further away till they disappeared from sight. 

“So… How are you getting home?” Eunbi asked you. 

“I’ll probably walk back to campus to catch a bus,” You answered. 

“Let me send you home,” She offered. 

“I-It’s okay Eunbi… I can get home on my own,” You assured her. 

“Fine… Suit yourself I guess,” She sighed. “Come on… We both gotta walk back to campus to get home don’t we?”

You smiled awkwardly and nodded. The two of you set off into the night, walking side by side as you made your way back to campus. Admittedly, it was a little awkward walking back with your singer. Even though you’d slept with her that one time, you still were a little tense around Eunbi. Maybe it was her demeanour, or maybe it was that dazzling face… You didn’t know why you still got nervous around her.

“Weather’s nice tonight, isn’t it?” She mused. 

“Y-Yea… I-I guess…” You answered.

“Do you always answer questions with ‘Yea’ and ‘I guess’? I swear that’s the only thing I hear out of you sometimes.”

You blushed.

“S-Sorry,” You apologised. Eunbi chuckled and playfully smacked your arm.

“Relax Myeong-seok, just having some fun with you,” She clarified. “Jeez… You’re really tense sometimes you know?” 

You chuckled nervously.

“I uh… I’m not really an extrovert,” You admitted. 

“I can tell,” Eunbi replied. “Knew it from the moment you stepped into the studio.”

You managed a sheepish laugh.

“D-Didn’t know it was that obvious,” You mused. 

“Oh it’s painfully obvious,” She told you. “You always look so shocked whenever any of us speak to you. It’s kinda cute to be honest.”

Eunbi laughed softly to herself, kicking aside a small pebble on the pavement. 

“So… How have your first few weeks with us been?” She asked, changing the direction of the conversation. 

“It’s… It’s been fun so far,” You said. 

“Are the practices too intense at times?” She continued. 

“Sometimes…” You answered carefully. “But uh… I-I can cope with it…”

Eunbi fixed you with a look. 

“You sure? Cause that glove on your hand really isn’t helping your case,” She remarked. You hid your blistered hand behind your back. 

“T-That’s my fault… I… Pushed myself a little too hard,” You replied. Eunbi chuckled.

“Alright, alright… Whatever you say Mr Drummer,” She joked. “Just let me know if you feel a little overwhelmed, okay? I’ll help you out as much as I can.”

“I uh… Thanks…” You managed to reply her. She gave you a pat on your shoulder.

“No problem,” Eunbi said. “I wanna make sure that you’re having a great time with us. Fun first, musicality second. No exceptions.”

She gave you a bright smile. Your breath hitched for a second. You turned away to hide the blush on your cheeks.

The two of you stopped at a traffic junction to wait for the green man to make his appearance. Eunbi started to hum a soft tune to herself, rocking back and forth on her heels while she looked around her. It was an old song, one of those upbeat 80s rock songs that your Mom used to play over the small CD player in your apartment. You couldn’t figure out which song it was, but the tune brought a small smile to your face as bits of nostalgia set in. 

Eunbi casted a glance towards you. Noticing the look on your face, she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s got you smiling like that?” 

“S-Sorry,” You quickly apologised. “The song you were humming… It just reminded me of my Mom…”

“Oh, I see…” She nodded. “Your mom listened to rock?”

“Die hard Van Halen fan. She has all the CDs, treats them better than me,” You disclosed. 

“Introduce me to her, I think we’d be great friends,” Eunbi chuckled. 

The red man disappeared, and the green man began walking on the display. You crossed the street with Eunbi and continued on your journey back to campus. A slight breeze blew by, ruffling your hair as leaves skidded across the pavement. You silently watched Eunbi from the corner of your eye, your head reeling as you thought of something to talk about. Alas, Eunbi beat you to it.

“You wanna know something?” Eunbi piped. 

“What?” You replied, urging her to continue.

“I…” Eunbi trailed off. “Ah nevermind…” 

You blinked, a little stunned. 

“O-Oh… Okay…”

You walked in silence for a little more. 

“How are your parents?” She suddenly inquired. 

“O-Oh… They’re good, busy running their Vet clinic in the city,” You told her. 

“Your parents are Vets?” Eunbi mused.

“Yea… It’s kinda sweet,” You remarked. 

“Sounds kinda romantic doesn’t it? A husband and wife in the same profession and they run a clinic together,” She chuckled. “That’s some wholesome stuff… Love it.”

You let out a soft laugh. 

“I guess you could say that…” You said. “How about you Eunbi? How are your parents?”

Eunbi went silent for a little.

“They’re uh… They’re good,” She answered after a second or two. 

“Are they still working?” you inquired. 

“I uh… Don’t know,” Eunbi shrugged. “I haven’t heard from them in a while. Last I checked, they were fine.” 

Judging from her answer, you had a feeling that further questioning wasn’t the best idea. You weren’t the best person to confide in when it came to other people’s personal issues, you let more qualified people handle those. You could never really think of what to say to comfort someone having an absolute breakdown before you, nor did you have the skills to offer any sort of advice to them. You tried to help once—It didn’t go well. 

The mood seemed to dampen after your attempt to make conversation with Eunbi. In your heart, you could sense that something happened to her over the course of your questioning. You weren’t sure what happened, but you were certain that it was your fault. 

“H-Hey… I-I’m sorry if I brought up a touchy subject,” You began to apologise. 

“O-Oh i-it’s fine,” Eunbi allayed you. “You did nothing wrong… The beer’s just kicking in… Getting a little woozy, you know?”

A strong gut feeling told you that she was lying her ass off, but you knew better than to pry into her personal life. The rest of the walk was filled with the awkward silence that you originally started the walk with. The joy seemed to have been sapped out of Eunbi. You silently cussed yourself out for asking the wrong questions. 

It didn’t take long for the both of you to get back to campus. The bus stop was in sight, and you subconsciously quickened your pace to get to the stop. 

“Oh… Are you leaving already?” Eunbi asked. You turned to face her. 

“S-Sort of? The bus stop’s right there…” You answered. Her face visibly fell a little.

“Oh… Alright then… See you around,” She said with a wave. A pang of shame twisted your heart, but You returned the gesture and turned tail to walk away.

The lights of the bus stop were getting closer and closer. You could feel Eunbi’s presence grow further and further from you. It was like the lingering fuzz in your arm after you woke up from sleeping on it, slowly fading till it disappeared. As you stepped under the shelter of the bus stop, an odd sense of emptiness filled your core. Your attempts to shake it off were futile. 

Your bus was coming towards the stop. You turned to look at Eunbi’s figuring getting smaller and smaller as she walked back into the campus. 

The bus came to a screeching stop before you, the doors sliding open to welcome you in. The soft lights within the vehicle cajoled you, urging you to stop in and have a seat in the empty bus, but the usual pull to enter wasn’t there.

“Hey! You getting on?” the bus captain asked you, looking rather ticked off. You looked him in the eye.

You turned and ran back towards the campus. Your legs carried you with renewed energy, an invisible rope pulling you towards your destination. You managed to catch Eunbi just as she was about to enter the turnstyle. 

“Eunbi!” You called her. She whipped around.

“The fuck? Why are you back?” she questioned. You rested your hands on your knees. 

“I… I think… I could use a lift,” You panted. Eunbi blinked, looking a little taken aback. The look of shock didn’t last too long, the corners of her lips pulled up into a gleaming smile. 

“Cool,” She said. “Let’s get you home then.”

~~~

You’d expected her to ask to come into your place from the moment she pulled into the parking lot of your Apartment complex, yet her question still caught you off guard. You didn’t have the heart to turn her down. 

“Hm… Looks cozy,” Eunbi mused as she strolled into your apartment.

“I-It’s not much…” You chuckled shamefully. You weren’t expecting guests any time soon, so you hadn’t really done much of a clean up. One of your hoodies was strewn over the sole chair at your foldable table that functioned as your dining table. Unwashed plates and cups were in your kitchen sink, and you were half certain that that spot where you spilled some apple juice on the floor was still kind of sticky. 

“You look like you don’t receive guests often…” Eunbi mused, picking up your ACDC shirt that was strewn across your beanbag. You’d thrifted it a couple of days ago but hadn’t washed it yet.

“W-Well I uh…” You struggled to answer. “I… Don’t invite people in… At all…”

Eunbi giggled and set the shirt back down. 

“So am I the first person to enter your place?” She inquired. You rubbed the back of your neck. 

“If you don’t count my parents? Yea…” You blushed.

“Hm… Cool.”

Eunbi proceeded to do a little more exploration. She entered your bedroom, which you’d thankfully packed a couple of nights before due to a sudden motivation to do so at 3 in the morning. She casually looked through most of your things, skimming through folders and examining photos like she was given the permission to do so. You trusted her enough to not protest against her actions. 

“You know… You’re neater than I expected,” Your singer mused. 

“Thanks,” You replied. Eunbi set down the photo album in her hand and turned to face you.

“So… When can we get to fucking?”

Her blunt choice of words combined with her too casual tone threw you completely off guard. 

“H-Huh?” You couldn’t help but stutter. 

“Damn… I thought you’d take the hint when I asked to come up,” Eunbi sighed. 

“I… What?”

Eunbi folded her arms. 

“Jesus Christ Myeong-seok… Have I not dropped enough hints on the ride back?”

Admittedly, you weren’t paying attention for about 90% of the ride. You simply nodded and hummed in response to most of Eunbi’s questions and said “oh… cool” to a majority of her statements. In hindsight, you should’ve paid a little more attention. 

Eunbi walked towards you, a slight sway in her hips. 

“Get on the bed sweetie,” She purred. 

“E-Eunbi—”

“Don’t talk back to mommy.”

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as Eunbi stared you down. The power dynamic had shifted, the balance tipping towards Eunbi. This was no longer a friend-to-friend bonding moment. Eunbi wanted you, here and now. There was nothing you could say or do to change her resolve.

You were hesitant, but you slowly walked over to your own bed and sat down on the edge of it. Eunbi walked over to the door and closed it, then she strutted over to you.

“You know what to do, don’t you?” She asked. 

“Yes… Mommy,” You answered. 

“Good. Now strip.”

You complied somewhat willingly, your arms and hand moving on their own to pull your t-shirt off your body. Eunbi was gracious enough to help you out of your pants and underwear, pulling the articles of clothing right off your legs and tossing them into a corner of your room. She settled next to you and gripped your semi-hard shaft. She squeezed it not too gently and slowly pumped you to full measure.  

“Fuck… I forgot just how big you were,” She whispered right into your ear. Her breath tingled your skin. Her hand quickly set itself into a rhythm. 

“You know… I should’ve called you for a booty call sooner,” Eunbi mused, her free hand beginning to explore your body. “Searching for a trumpet player’s gotten mommy so pent up, should’ve called you for some form of… relief.”

You let a soft sigh escape from your lips. Eunbi giggled next to you. 

“Shall I play with you for a bit? Or should I just get right to it like I did last time?” She asked you. Her nails traced shapes on the nape of your neck. She was slowly breaking you down and weaving herself in the holes of your resolve, taking control of you. You knew it, but you couldn’t stop it. Her hand sped up, delivering full long strokes to your throbbing length while Eunbi began her assault on your ear. She nibbled, she licked and kissed, slowly tuning your senses into overdrive. You were her toy to play with. 

“I think… I should play with you for a little,” Eunbi finally decided. “Get you all riled up, then dMake you cum all over me… How does that sound?”

You weren’t in a good state to give her a reply, but Eunbi took the soft whimper that left your throat as a reply.

“I’ll take that as a yes then.”

Her hand stopped abruptly, freeing you from the spikes of pleasure that’d begun to surge from your crotch area. Eunbi gracefully slipped off the bed, deftly positioning herself on her knees before your twitching shaft. She stroked with consideration, taking her time with you as she let her forefinger and thumb apply pressure to your tip before letting her hand glide to the base of your cock. You stifled a moan, your hands stiff at your sides. The pinkness of her tongue poked out from between her lips. She lowered her head, letting you feel the heat against the tip of your cock. Ou squirmed. She smirked.

Her tongue made contact, teasing your tip with the moistness of her tongue. Every muscle in your body seemed to seize up, responding to her toying. Eunbi made sure to keep your eyes locked on hers as she licked the underside of your length. The softness and warmth made you grit your teeth as you watched her lather up the bottom side of your member. You’d slept with her once, yet she somehow seemed to have found an optimal way to bend you to her will. It was cruel of her—yet something about the way she took her time to paint your length in her spit aroused you to new extents. You twitched wildly in her grasp, each small flick of her tongue sending you gasping and grunting in ways you had no idea you were capable of.

Once your singer was satisfied with the control she’d established over you, she released your cock from the grip of her slender fingers. Spreading your legs further apart to allow for better access, she drawled, “Relax baby… Let Mommy please you.”

She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and rested her palms on your thighs. Before you could even process what was going on, the warmth of Eunbi’s little mouth surrounded your length, lips wrapping around your shaft. You couldn’t fight back a groan.

Sloppy… No, incredibly fucking sloppy was the best way to describe the way Eunbi pleasured you with her mouth. She let the drool flow freely from the corners of her mouth, the frothy fluid sliding down your cock unchallenged as Eunbi had her way with the hard, throbbing meat in her mouth. Glossy pink lips followed a strict path—up, down, up, down—relentlessly slobbering over your shaft while applying a near perfect amount of suction around you as she kept her pace. She was a deadly woman of consistency, each bottom of her stroke aiming to take in more and more of your member into the back of her throat. Her eyes visibly watered, but her resolve remained. 

You knew better than to rest your hands anywhere on her body, opting to crumple your sheets with a knuckle-white grip. You could possibly choke the life out of a grown man in seconds. She knew her way around you, the lustful fire in her eyes conveying the joy she derived from making you squirm in your seat while her not too gentle hands fondled with your spit covered sack. Spots danced before your eyes, your world spinning in the handling of Eunbi. 

Your cock popped out of her mouth, a mix of pre-cum and spit dripping from your tip. 

“You’re awfully quiet baby,” She told you, hand lazily pumping your slippery shaft with full strokes. “How will Mommy know if she’s doing a good job if you don’t moan for me?”

She was a playfully cruel woman. A dark part of you enjoyed this side of your singer…

When she took your cock back into the willing depths of her mouth, you made sure to vocalise your pleasure as much as you could. You caught the faint trace of a smirk on her face as she resumed her work. In and out; disappearing and reappearing—You couldn’t get enough of the way Eunbi blew you. 

When she decided that she’d played with you for long enough, Eunbi sadly released your throbbing length from the warmth of her mouth. Wordlessly, she rose to her knees and ridded herself of her clothes. No teasing, no antics. Eunbi was horny and she needed cock, your cock. 

She pushed you back, your shoulders impacting your mattress as Eunbi straddled you. She lifted herself up slightly, her hand reaching back to grab your swollen length and line it up with the entrance to her slit. She wasted no time in hilting you inside of her, a soft cry leaving her lips as she planted her hands on your chest. 

“Fuck… Your cock feels so fucking good inside of me,” She hissed. She raised her hips slightly and slammed herself back down onto you, earning a sharp gasp from you. Eunbi smiled wickedly. 

“Let’s see how long you last inside Mommy’s pussy… Don’t cum till I let you”

She took off. Eunbi rode you fiercely, roughly, taking you in and out of her tight wet slick. She was oblivious to your comfort, the only thing concerning her being filling herself over and over with your thick, hard cock. Eunbi’s nails dug into your chest, her face wild and brimming with need. Beads of sweat had begun decorating her curvaceous body, milky skin glistening under the dim lighting of your bedroom. 

“Fuck baby… So… Fucking… Full!”

She leaned down and crashed her lips against yours. Her tongue invades your month. You let her in. You were helpless, completely unable to resist Eunbi as she took her pleasure from your body. In a weird, twisted way—you were savouring every second of it. The way her pussy clenched tightly around you, so slick and so tight. The way she ripped her gaze from your eyes to cast her head back, sending locks of jet-black hair flying as she sighed and moaned her pleasure. The way her hips and thighs never slowed nor lost their rhythm… So much to take in; so much to feel.

“You love… My pussy don’t you? Do you like… how I fuck your cock with it?” Eunbi hissed between lustful moans. She thrusted her hips against yours, thighs crashing against your hips while your cock speared through her folds.

“Y-Yes Mommy… I-I love your pussy so much!” Came your reply. Eunbi pulled you upright aggressively. 

“Suck my tits baby,” She commanded. You were more than happy to obey.

Her hands gripped your hair and pulled you into her chest. Your face crashed against her breasts, the warm, delicious cleavage between them filled with her sweat. You quickly latched your mouth onto her left nipple and sucked greedily. Eunbi let out a strangled gasp of pleasure.

“That’s it baby… Just like that…” Eunbi spurred you.

You feasted on her breasts, tongue licking and swirling—Giving her the works. Her hips moved a little quicker, no longer taking your entire length into her pussy. Instead, she withdrew only half way before plunging down again to drive you faster and harder inside her tight, drenched pussy. Her juices flowed freely, coating the insides of her thighs and your crotch. Her sighs became shallower and shallower by the minute.

“Baby… You’re gonna make Mommy… Oh god… Oh fucking go—”

Ironically enough, the one who wanted to test how long you could last came first. Her entire body is struck by a bolt of pleasure, quivering, shaking and trembling involuntarily. Cusses spill out of her mouth, paired with intermittent cries of pleasure and other exclamations. From between her tits you could see Eunbi’s features twist, face wracked with pleasure as she holds you firmly against her chest. You yourself were fighting back your own orgasm. Rules set by Eunbi were rules that must be followed.

It took forever for Eunbi to wind down, but the wait was worth it as her hands slackened, allowing you to pull back and witness her bask in the glow of her orgasm. The need for control disappeared for just a little bit, the natural softness behind those eyes returning for a second while she gazed passionately into her eyes. You pulled her in for a kiss, earning yourself a soft moan into your mouth. 

When she pulled away, you could sense the slight change in her demeanour. She smiled warmly and cradled your face in her hands.

“You okay?” She whispered. You nodded, she giggled. 

“Good, cause I still need more.”

Your living room was the next location. She tossed away the ACDC shirt on the beanbag and bent herself over it, looking back to catch your gaze.

“Don’t keep Mommy waiting,” Eunbi rasped. You weren’t one to make a woman wait. You got down on your knees behind her, your tip lined up with her dripping slit. 

“Wait,” She stopped you. “My ass. Fuck my ass.”

She reached back and spread her ample ass cheeks apart for you. You lined your tip up with her asshole. 

“Be quick,” Eunbi instructed. You nodded and pushed right in. Your shaft, lubricated with Eunbi’s juices and saliva, slipped seamlessly into her warm, tight hole. Eunbi yelped, her hand gripping your beanbag. 

“Fuck…” She hissed. “Forgot… How that felt like…”

You gave Eunbi a moment to adjust, content with fondling her ass cheeks as Eunbi drew deep breaths. 

“Okay,” She finally sighed after a minute or two. “Go.”

One word was all you needed to know how she wanted to be fucked. You pumped in and out of her tight little hole, Eunbi rocking back into you with each thrust you made into her body. For what felt like hours, you continued to fuck Eunbi’s hot ass, shaft drilling in and out from between her asscheeks as sighs of pleasure escaped her throat. You took the risk and let your hands roam the curves of Eunbi’s body, reaching around her to grab ahold of her full tits and playing with the soft flesh of her butt. She let you do as you please, focusing on pounding back onto your cock. Her sighs filled your ears, hypnotising you in the sound of her sensual voice. The warmth of her ass roped you deeper into your lust, the scent of her perfume mixing with the smell of her sweat.

“Oh fuck… Oh fuck fuck fuck,” She let the filth spill forth. “God I feel so fucking full… Your cock always fills me up just the way I like…”

She propped herself up on her hands, her slim tummy resting on the bean bag. 

“Keep going baby… You’re… You’re doing such a good job,” she praised between gasps. It was taking everything in your body to keep you from unloading into Eunbi’s ass right there and then. Nonetheless, you persevered. 

Eunbi’s moans coaxed you, her soft sighs spurring you—Every little thing she did while you fucked her drove you wild. You could feel your cock pulsing inside of her, aching to release rope after rope of cum into that tight little ass of hers. All that riding done by Eunbi had already driven you close.

Eunbi definitely knew that you were at your upper limit, but that didn’t stop her from making things harder for you. 

“Speed up,” She prompted with a smirk. “And don’t you dare cum till I let you.”

“But—”

She shot you a glare that silenced you. 

“One more word and I’ll make sure that you’ll never cum tonight,” She warned. Not taking her seriously would be a stupid decision, but you weren’t certain how much longer you could last inside of her. 

Following orders, you picked up the semi-frantic pace. Eunbi tilted her head back, spine arching in a delicious curve. You could see the smirk on her face. It was killing you. 

You couldn’t hold on anymore. Your thrusts into her ass shallowed, your breath quickening as you prepared to let loose. 

“M-Mommy,” You groaned. 

“Don’t you dare.”

“I-I… I can’t!” 

Eunbi abruptly slid forward, withdrawing herself from your cock. She whipped around and gripped your cock tightly, squeezing it in a vice grip as she stared right into your soul. 

“Don’t,” She whispered flatly. “Don’t make Mommy punish you baby…” 

Her grip on your member was not helping to reduce the pressure in your cock. You could feel yourself leaking, your length twitching wildly in Eunbi’s hand. She laid a hand on your chest. 

“Good boy,” She praised once your breathing had settled. “Mommy will let you cum when she’s satisfied, so you better be at your best performance for the rest of the night.”

You gulped and nodded, knowing full well that she meant every word she said. You were in for a rough time.

She tortured you for the rest of the night, making you fuck her in all sorts of positions that drove you insanely close to the edge. Each time she sensed your impending orgasm, she forced you out of her and squeezed your member rather painfully. She made you fuck her over the sink, rail her on the bed, eat her out on the desk… The list went on and on. She kept you painfully close to the edge the whole time, making sure to put on an increasing lewd display of pleasure as you progressed into the night. It got to a point where a perpetual tingle lingered in your crotch area. It was like an itch that you couldn’t scratch. 

Your torture amounted to something at the end of it all. As Eunbi laid on your floor, spent from her nth orgasm of the night, she coaxed you towards her. With your jelly like legs, you somehow managed to waddle on your knees towards her. 

“Kneel… Over me,” She rasped. You did as you were told. With what remaining strength she had left, she reached up and began pumping away at your shaft. With satisfaction written all over her face, she uttered two words. 

“Paint me.”

The orgasm that you experienced would go down in your records as the definition of an explosive orgasm. You felt every burst of semen that shot out from your shaft, cries of pleasure leaving your mouth in streams as Eunbi milked every last drop out of you. Rope after rope painted her tight body, your seed leaving no bit of skin uncovered. Even when the orgasm subsided, warm spurts of cum still leaked out of you, oozing from your tip and dripping onto your singer below you.

Your legs eventually gave way. You crashed down next to her. With a face and body full of cum, she smiled and whispered into your ear. 

“Next time… I’ll let you cum in me…”

~~~

You both collectively decided to skip classes the next day. Eunbi spent the morning at your place, sauntering around your apartment in nothing but her panties and one of your Led Zeppelin shirts. She proved to be an excellent cook, whipping up an excellent breakfast with what you had in the fridge. Pairing Eunbi’s masterful cooking with a rather pathetic cup of instant coffee, you sat down on the floor with Eunbi to have one of the best meals you’d ever eat. 

“God… This is so good,” You told her. Eunbi giggled.

“Please, it’s just a simple meal,” She humbly replied. 

“Simplicity is good sometimes,” You shrugged. Eunbi smiled warmly. 

“Glad you like it.”

It felt like the distance between the two of you had closed after last night. You found yourself  feeling oddly comfortable around her, finding that you could hold a conversation with her without ever descending into awkward silence. You were glad that you got the sudden urge to run after her the night before. 

Before she left, she helped you to clean up the mess you’d both made. Surfaces were scrubbed clean, floors wiped till it sparked. Only when she’d made the place cleaner than when she first arrived did she dress herself in her jeans from last night.

“I’ll return your shirt to you next practice,” She assured you, slipping on her sneakers. “Or maybe you could call me over again…”

You blushed. 

“I think I uh… I think I’ll lay off for a bit,” You muttered. Eunbi giggled mischievously.

“Suit yourself,” She shrugged. “See you next practice then.”

Eunbi left your place, leaving you alone for the rest of the day. You used the rest of the daytime to catch up on some work. Somewhere in the evening, a knock came on your door. You set your pen down and hurried over to open it. When you did, a kind-looking young lady greeted you enthusiastically.

“Hello! I’m Yeju, pleased to meet you!” She beamed. You could feel the positive energy radiating off her. She looked familiar for some reason.

“O-Oh… Hi,” You greeted her. 

“I’m your new neighbour. I just moved into the apartment down the hall yesterday,” She explained to you. “Just wanted to drop by and say a quick hello! Hope we can be great friends!” 

It felt like you were the only introvert in this world. You smiled awkwardly and nodded. 

“N-Nice to meet you Yeju… I-I’m Myeong-seok,” You smiled.

“Wow! You share the same name as my husband!” Yeju laughed loudly. “Small world huh?”

“I-I guess…” You chuckled.

The lady’s name rang a bell in your head, but you couldn’t remember when and where you heard the name from. Fortunately for you, your memory was about to get jogged. 

“Oh! And before I forget,” The lady continued. “Let me introduce you to my sister!” 

She stepped aside. Hwang Yeji stared right back at you, fixing you with her signature death glare. You felt like you were about to shit yourself. 

With an icy cold look, she locked eyes with you and said, “I can’t fucking believe that we’re neighbours now…” 

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

Hai. Wats popping kings and queens.

This was long overdue and I apologies for my procrastination. Hope ya'll enjoy this fic that I re-wrote 4 times because it was funk at the start. Thanks for stopping by to read and have a nice day :).

[fallingrealms16]

CAITVI FIC REC LIST PART 3 (???) <3333

I love them *sighs*

OKAY !! Part 3??? So I said in my previous normal post that this was coming soon and that it was going to be short fics. Apparently I lied. Forgot I had this draft *cackles*

Reminder‼️ pretty please read all the tags on each fic before reading as I am not responsible for any emotional trauma you may experience ^3^ (more notes at the bottom ty, ily <3)

⤵️⤵️⤵️

Face The Noise by hesychia

54.7K Words // 19 Chapters //COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// //this is part 1 of a trilogy//

Jayce, Viktor, and Caitlyn get invited to a house show. When a new band, the Firelights, takes the stage, Caitlyn finds herself drawn to the mysterious, pink-haired lead guitarist.

Part 2: Teen Idle (jinx one shot)

Part 3: Beat the Daylight (Caitlyn x Vi)

Ignore the author note in chapter one, they end up adding more spice to more chapters hahaha

Parabolic by Enchantable

69K Words // 22 Chapters // COMPLETED

//TEEN AND UP//

Missing scenes across Acts II and III and the aftermath.

Each chapter is a missing scene

Fixing for a Family by Bari_514

136.8K Words // 24 Chapters // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

While creating homes for other families, Caitlyn and Vi learn that building a family isn't always an easy endeavor. They’ll discover that some things simply cannot be fixed, but can be endured; together.

CUTENESS OVERLOAD

Knockout Chemistry by iheart_wheein

149K Words // ?/? Chapters // NOT COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT// being updated frequently

When Caitlyn Kiramman, a perfectionist law student from Piltover’s elite, and Violet "Vi" Lanes, a rebellious boxing star on scholarship, end up as dorm mates, their worlds collide in all the worst ways.

But when Caitlyn’s unwanted admirers start interfering with her studies, and Vi’s slipping grades threaten her spot on the team, they strike an unconventional deal: fake date each other to solve both problems.

The plan is simple—no drama, no feelings, no complications. But with their complementing personalities and undeniable chemistry, keeping things strictly business might just be their biggest challenge yet.

Cheeky bonus o/s fic recs🤪

Craving for you by YourSinfulScribe

4K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

After severing ties with her younger sister Powder, Vi finds herself lost, with only her fists to keep her moving forward. She spends her days brawling in grimy underground pit fights, letting the pain and adrenaline numb the emptiness inside. But something feels wrong, she can sense someone watching her, a constant, unnerving presence lurking in the shadows.

When Vi finally confronts her mysterious stalker, she’s startled to find herself face-to-face with a stunning woman who is more than she appears. With a sly smile and a dangerous glint in her eye, this stranger lures Vi into a thrilling game from which escape might be harder than Vi ever anticipated.

Sorry about the small text^ it was realllllly long in larger font :( can make it normal if you guys prefer xx

Helping Hand by lettucehater007 @lettucehater007

4.7K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//EXPLICIT//

Basically just Vi and Caitlyn being soft and taking care of each other on their periods. Because that's what good girlfriends do.

I needed this fic for my soul honestly.

This is what you asked for by Sexterp

4.8K Words // 1 Chapter // COMPLETED

//COMPLETED//

After their fallout, Vi and Cait were apart for months. Vi spent her time fighting in a pit and drinking. But what if Vi's vision of Caitlyn wasn't just a vision? What if they slept with each other too drunk and devastated to see through the greasy paint or a fuckass blonde wig?

Ngl this one’s a bit out there…

Posting the next one soon sooooon! Will be a drop with ones shots tehe (maybe a long one or two. Maybe)

[grumfield]

Asked my dad about oasis this past weekend. He said the brothers hate each others guts. All I know from briefly glancing over your posts is that they have made out before and they say many codependent things about each other. I feel like I need the cliffnotes if you are willing to give them.

Literally this isn’t meant to be derisive or chunibiyo, but the average Oasis fan/music enjoyer just does not see what’s going on. Like if you’re only into the music or like them form a distance/not reading the interviews or biographies and stuff it makes sense because like…well. It’s not normal. And it’s two greasy British guys who sometimes call people slurs. And like, idk I like a few Beatles songs but don’t know anything about the Beatles beyond the “Yoko broke up the band” shtick. So like. No most people wouldn’t know even if they like the music LMAO.

And like I’m not saying this from a like, Larry/McLennon esque wishful yellow wallpapering yaoidelusion perspective (I’ve literally never been into RPF before ever before now) I’m saying this from like a truly “I literally assumed everyone was joking because I mean…come on… but then I looked and I was like Jesus Christ for 3 days straight in disbelief before digesting what I’d found and being like. WHAT?”

Like I hesitate to even call this interest RPF because really it’s about what’s there and it’s not about what could be there. Like I’m invested in Oasis and Oasis is…this. Again, this isn’t me doing fanfic wishful thinking or anything, because I really really am someone who can’t be intrigued by something that isn’t there. This is literally just observational. Whatever is going on is very weird on so many levels, and it kind of goes under the radar I think because of both the year, culture, and nature of their relationship. Both of them are assholes in different ways and have an incredibly volatile relationship that at least with what we’re given to look at (which is…a lot because neither of them have a filter or a PR manager) it looks like the actual textbook definition of emotional incest. There’s just a lot of boundary crossing and extreme highs and lows that’s just like…you really can’t explain away.

Anyways, the basic gist of events.

Noel (older, crotchety and callous) and Liam (younger, clingy and loud) are brothers from Manchester with a 5 year age gap. Liam is the singer and Noel is the guitarist/songwriter/leader of Oasis. They both grew up with an extremely abusive father who took his shit out in Noel, and as a result Noel was, to put it biblically, his brother’s keeper. Some other noteworthy childhood things include the fact that they have a third brother (Paul, who is 1 year older than Noel) who turned out very normal comparatively speaking and that Liam supposedly didn’t care about music until he got hit on the head with a hammer when he was 12 (while Noel always loved it).

In the early 90s Noel was a roadie for a band, and while this was happening Liam joined someone’s band (Oasis) and became singer. After Noel got fired for being shit at his job, Liam basically offered him job as their manager/songwriter, Noel agreed on the condition he lead the band, and there we have it.

For the next couple of years it’s typical band shenanigans you can kind of find in any biopic but it’s set against this backdrop of a very intense, enmeshed, public and out there codependent situation with a lot of weird behavior (including actual incest tunes).

Noteworthy moments include

In 1994 they play at Whiskey-A-Go-Go and accidentally all do meth instead of coke and have a major crashout. Noel runs away to go write music, Liam chews on bricks and climbs the walls, etc. They have some moment where in a rare moment of sentimentality Noel slips a note under Liam’s door that says like “how can we be brothers if we do this” which Liam then takes rolls up and snorts more blow with it

Noel and Liam have a fight in 1995 where (very thematically relevant) Noel hits Liam in the head with a cricket bat and Liam breaks his hand.

1996 comes along. Heavy hitter year where they’re on tour a lot and win a ton of awards. This is where the ever popular always forgotten public tongue kiss happened, which occurred after Noel learned from tabloids that Liam got engaged. Later Noel also got engaged, and neither of them attended the other’s wedding. This is also the year that Liam gets kidnapped (for real) by Noel and also refuses to come along for a Chicago show for an unspecified reason. The tour ends early due to sibling beef but they don’t break up (yet)

Liam backs out of performing at MTV Unplugged for having a sore throat, Noel plays alone, but it turns out that Liam was there in the audience stands and starts heckling him.

Eventually all of this reaches a head in the 2000s where after a particularly fraught performance near the end of their run, Noel leaves the band, and that is apparently capstoned by Liam getting so angry he breaks his guitar. Therein proceeds 12 years long estranged no-contact very public beef between them where they do their respective things while also making music about each other and largely bitching and being petty to each other (or in Liam’s case….being very pathetic. He’s like I would reunite Oasis for free! And Noel will tell some other interviewer I’d only do it for 100 million dollars). But then Noel got a divorce and decides that his solo career cash can’t cut it, and so now the band is back together and set to to on tour this year.

Anyways that’s like. The basic gist. Very basic. It’s a lot more complicated than that. There’s really layers to it and the layers don’t stop. There’s textually incest songs. Wonderwall is (very likely) about Liam. It’s wild.

But like. Yeah the public perception of them hating each other is…really not like. What’s going on. It’s a lot more fraught and weird than that.

[bitter69uk]

“Is it possible to aspire to be two different people at the same time, rolled into one? If so, the two-headed transplant of my musical backbone could only be Ike and Tina Turner. I wanted to be as snakelike as Ike and as scary-sexy as Tina. So should you. Ike and Tina Turner were the best soul group ever.”

/ From John Waters’ 2019 collection of essays Mr. Know-It-All /

Born on this day: musician, songwriter, guitarist, producer, bandleader and rock’n’roll pioneer Ike Turner (né Izear Luster Turner Jr, 5 November 1931 – 12 December 2007). From the late fifties until their acrimonious split in 1976 Turner and his fiercely glamorous raspy-voiced “bold soul sister” wife Tina Turner (the former Anna Mae Bullock) were the tempestuous royal couple of greasy, primal rhythm and blues. Yes, Ike’s reputation as a monster is warranted (especially once the cocaine addiction kicked in), but his trailblazing musical genius demands recognition. In the great 2023 documentary Little Richard: I Am Everything, one of the talking heads notes that Richard's piano playing was beholden to Turner’s, something Richard himself freely admitted (he raved that hearing “Rocket 88” by Ike Turner and His Kings of Rhythm in 1951 “made my big toe shoot up in my boot” and profoundly fired his own musical imagination. Richard borrowed the piano intro to “Rocket 88” for his own “Good Golly, Miss Molly”). Pictured: The eternally stylish Turners on the cover of the revue’s first-ever live album – released sixty years ago this month (November 1964). Find it on Spotify if you're curious - it rocks! John Waters is right: Ike and Tina Turner were the best soul group ever.

[that0nefangi1rlinyourarea]

THE BAND CLUB!!!! (MY ANIME CLUB OCS!)

-

INFORMATION ABOUT THE CHARACTERS!! (LEFT TO RIGHT):

Laurelle, THE Gal

-

LEADER/PRESIDENT OF THE CLUB.

> Guitarist, Lead Vocalist

- Is usually a cheery, supportive, and fun girl to be around with. Usually has band sessions close to where the Anime Club's at. Avid Weezer fan. Though given the fact that she's nice to some people (most especially her friends/closest friends), she absolutely DESPISES the Anime Club. Let's say her band's having their rehearsals, and THEN the Anime Club would be, I'unno, blasting random anime music. Who does Laurelle despise the most in the Anime Club? Mort. Definitely Mort. She gets into arguments and banters with that lil fella occasionally, also poking fun of their weeb behaviour. Gets a weird feeling around him sometimes, makes her spine shiver with the thought of someone watching her from afar (Mort). Finds either Mark or Dave interesting. Oh right, Clyde and Laurelle are childhood friends. She's chill with him. Probably the only Anime Club guy she tolerates (aside from Dave). I could say she's part of the student council and sometimes tries to get the Anime Club in trouble.

》 LIKES: Seals (Harp, specifically), Playing music, Weezer, The Ergs!, Blur, Her special violin, Videogames, her friends, her pet maltipoo named Daisy, LOVESSSS Rivers Cuomo (80's-ish era with his BOWLCUT!!)

》 DISLIKES: Any insects (Yes, ants too), dirty areas, The Anime Club, Mort

Oliver, THE Striker

-

VICE-PRESIDENT OF THE CLUB

> Drummer

- Sanest of them all. Very into SOAD or Korn. He's really chill! When it comes to the Anime Club, though, he doesn't mind them. Just finds them weird sometimes, usually with the Japanese terms/words they use so randomly. Probably dislikes Mort too, he finds him greasy. (Mort slander but I love Mort. . . I DON'T EVEN CARE!!) He's a very skilled drummer too! Probably gets along with Dave reaaaal well. He can also play the guitar! But prefers drumming 'cause he likes the thrill of it.

》 LIKES: Moths, Drumming, his friends/bandmates, beaches, sweets, other Metal Bands, being quiet

》 DISLIKES: Clingy girls/fangirls, whenever the band is sometimes not following the right tempo, not being in the right tempo whenever he drums, losing his drumsticks, whenever Erick is being annoying

Erick, THE Don Juan

> Guitarist, Backing vocal #1

- He.. Um. All I can say is, FREAKY. Probably gets the girls too. Doesn't care what people think of him, just as long as he feels himself and is having fun with what he does. Probably bullies the Anime Club with Laurelle. They're almost like siblings!! He's insecure about his braces though, but he can't help himself to smile with his teeth. With the Anime Club, yeah, he makes fun of them. He also likes picking on Clyde mostly because he's usually the sensitive one, but Laurelle catches him doing so and just scolds him for picking on her childhood friend.

》 LIKES: Women, his guitar, any music, picking on Clyde, making fun of the Anime Club with Laurelle, petting his dog, online dating (occasionally), his fans, comics

》 DISLIKES: Mint Chocolate Chip Icecream, The Anime Club, "Weird" girls, catfishers

Nolan, THE Nerd

> Bassist, Backing Vocal #2

- Nerdiest of the three. Loyal follower of Laurelle. He gets along with ALL of the Anime Club members. In fact, he sometimes hangs out with them. Turns into a shaky jittery mess whenever he gets confronted about something he's done/generally just gets shouted at randomly. Sometimes Laurelle asks him to disclose secret embarrassing information from the Anime Club members for blackmail, but Nolan politely declines. He's scared of Erick for some reason. Maybe it's because of how he's so easygoing and extroverted. Likes reading novels or any educational books in general, mainly Science with biology. Despite his geeky look, he can actually sing good! Bravo, Nolan!

》 LIKES: Books, Singing, Making up basslines, Giving Laurelle for chord ideas or melody ideas, Anime, Talking about his interests

》 DISLIKES: Confident/Out-going people, Crowder Areas, Pornography (He gets shy and probably wees himself due to being too flustered.), Getting wrong answers, No one listening to him ramble, Getting yelled at

[chromotps]

uhhh thoughts on alabasta ratman sleep-deprived and weed fueled ace vs peak chad energy fuckboy prime wano ace?? like which one do you prefer, do you have any thoughts if he’d treat/think of luffy any different? in these two periods of his life?

(also ugh I adore both and there’s something special about alabasta ace who went after luffy to drum island, made sure everyone knew he would be waiting for luffy in alabasta, then went and sat there for 10 days with no other purpose but to wait for luffy. bc he just wanted to see him so so much. brocon alabasta ace is uhhhgggghh insane vibes but. there’s also something about wano graciously giving everyone big tits and a healthy layer of fat tissue on top of all that muscle. also the fact that portgas d “i hate when little children follow me around” ace willingly befriended and took care of tama. also promised her the same thing he promised luffy. idkidkidk I just like to think luffy was on ace’s mind 90% of the time, wherever he went, and he often just thought about him bc a lot of thinks reminded him of luffy. like things luffy would like, things he’d like to eat, things he’d find funny etc)

I thought this would be easy to answer but then I had like a whole essay typed up in my head. so. thank you for this ask, I have a lot of feelings about it apparently. 😂😂

they really do feel like 2 different characters, maybe bc Oda was still firming up the details of marineford/wano when Ace first appeared in alabasta? In any case it's always fun seeing which "version" of him fans lean into in fanart/fic/headcanons hahaha. like do they make him more scrungly and sleazy (but maybe also secretly doting)? you got yourself a greasy Ace fan. do they make him all upstanding and softly affectionate and soulful? wano ace wano ace wano ace

(a lot more rambling from here)

I have to admit...... and I'm ashamed to say it............... but I was only half-aware of Ace in Alabasta—like at that point, he was just another "wacky cool shounen guy" to me. It took Marineford breaking my brain down to its component parts and rearranging them for my full Ace brainrot to set in, and at that point he was closer to Ethereal Fridged Wife wano Ace, so I'd probably go with that one? God I do need to rewatch Alabasta tho, I feel like it'd be such a trip of fawning over greasy ratman Ace this time around ahahahah

I think it took until Marineford for me to really latch onto Ace bc it was outwardly like: Alabasta Ace: I'm cool Marineford Ace: I'm cool [ironic][hiding INTENSE self-worth issues]

I agree with everything you said though... I love wrinkly, wrung-out-to-dry Alabasta Ace and his devil-may-care coolness. His vibes of being just a bit more of a rebel than any of the Strawhats even, the thing that makes people cast him as a guitarist or artist in modern AUs. that fuckin,,,,, crouch/perching thing he does,,,, The WAITING... he's so understated with his devotion, like, this panel??

he's trying to be so cool and older brother-y but really he just wants his little brother to visit him sometimes!!! he waited for luffy for 10 days when he's been prioritizing this mission over everything else, even being with his other found-family crew, and I just!!! sigh

"any thoughts if he’d treat/think of luffy any different" I so agree that Wano Ace is pre-Whitebeard Ace, meaning that even though he's presenting himself as independent and a leader/captain, there's a part of him that's still very angry and searching for acceptance. And yesss, bc of that he was probably holding his memories of Luffy so close all the time, seeing his brother who loves him in the innocent, trusting kid he helps, and unable to stop bragging about his brave little brother to the brash, impressive club-weilding guy he runs into.

meanwhile I feel like Alabasta Ace is actually more mellowed-out in his feelings toward Luffy, in a way? like idk, maybe—I might be completely off—but he's more secure in himself and his attachment to Luffy... or at least he tells himself he is. I just feel like that explains why he's shown to be so openly brag-y about Luffy in his Wano days, but seems way more laidback in Alabasta, haha (but the brocon devotion is still there, just better-hidden, lmaoooo) (and it gets ripped to the forefront during Marineford—he's forced to confront all that fear and attachment when he sees Luffy hurtling through the air toward him AH)

god tho. wano ace. wano ace and this gif

the things. the things i want to do to this man. the morals i would abandon. unspeakable.

and this???? him??????????????? sunkissed angel backlit like the once-in-a-lifetime love interest in a twee indie film???

yeah I... in summary, I feel like I have 60/40 preference for Wano Ace over Alabasta Ace, but really it's that mix of all those qualities that I like to bring in when i can.

(my secret third answer is Marineford Ace. the blorbo who started it all, lmao)

[dustedmagazine]

Geologist and DS — A Shaw Deal (Drag City)

Brian Weitz (aka Geologist) is a sound sculptor, not a traditional musician. His tools are synthesizers and samplers, which he uses to mine others’ music to create unique soundscapes from the raw ore. On stage with his band Animal Collective, he is seen hunched over a myriad of electronic gear, wearing a headlamp to see, assembling a glorious cacophony in real time from his bandmates’ elemental emanations. Weitz is the unheralded conductor of that mutant orchestra, taming the energy of the group into something coherent for the listener to digest.

On A Shaw Deal, Geologist ventures away from the Animal Collective pack, finding his muse in the guitar playing of longtime friend Doug Shaw (White Magic). Shaw’s string sound stems become resonant fodder for Weitz’s electronics rig to digest.  Unlike Four Tet and Boards of Canada, who use guitar sounds in service of languid, beat-driven electronic music, Geologist weaves Shaw’s guitar into dense, droning electroacoustic compositions that resemble sparkling slurries of tone.

The two musicians, who have known each other for decades, are collaborators even though they operated independently. Shaw posted his music publicly to Instagram, and Weitz downloaded the sounds, slowly working them into songs. Geologist’s surreptitious mangling of Shaw’s guitar highlights a subconscious bond between the two. A Shaw Deal is a work borne of the love between friends. The guitarist’s music seeped into the crevices in Weitz’s grey matter, sparking the creative impulse in him and driving him to experiment.

Each of the album’s seven tracks bears a distinct emotional hue, ranging from dense clusters of electronic fireworks to dark, brooding washes of greasy tone. Weitz allows each piece to flow into the next, creating a harmonious blending of psychic energies. A sped-up gamelan orchestra washes against the rusted husk of a floating barge as the effervescent “Route 9 Falls” segues into the spooky “Wit of the Watermen.” The former welds dense drones to sprightly strings, while the latter is replete with jump scares and uncanny echoes. Elements from each permeate the entirety of A Shaw Deal, which plays out like Altman’s Short Cuts and its intertwining narratives.

Later tracks “Petticoat” and “Knuckles to Nostrils” have distinct shapes, as Weitz reveals the miniature stories that comprise the overarching dramatic logic of Shaw’s playing. The concept of the whole being greater than the sum of the parts plays out here in multiple ways. The team of Weitz and Shaw have a camaraderie and collaborative spirit that shine through in these recordings, and the individual tracks taken together reveal multiple facets of the pair’s friendship. Working apart, but spiritually together, these two reflect platonic love in musical form.

Bryon Hayes

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Day 2 for May DWC 2024 Agony - Embrace

★ Backstage Glimpses at Hearts of Tenacity Fest ★

"Woah buddy, it's only day 1 and you're already looking this rough" Ranek teased with a hearty chuckle as he came up behind Kon and slapped his back. The kaldorei was seen sitting in one of many lounge chairs found at Tenacity Isle sometime just before noon and clearly hungover from the rave the night before.

"Technically, it's day two. Yesterday was day 1 remember?" Kon grunted back at him raising a hand with two fingers but in a very lack-luster manner that made it seem he was half asleep still. "Sounds like day zero to me, the performances don't even start till tonight. And you and I are going to ROCK IT!" The fellow metal head and guitarist of Inner Beast exclaimed always so ecstatic about performing, especially with Kon and Tal. Kon just grunted at him as he reached up to rub at his temples. "Damn right we will... soon as I get rid of this stupid headache. Since when did a bottle of wine hit me like an elekk?" "I got just the thing for that, I've got you." Ranek said stepping off towards the Cast Co Booth across the way. Konietzko raised his head enough to watch him walk off, eyes hidden behind his Hearts of Tenacity merch sunglasses in Talthorn's shade of amethyst. He soon went back to rubbing at his head down to his neck which was already a bit stiff from whiplash. Dicenne had played an amazing set last night at the Feathers and Fantasy rave, he had him dancing so hard he was definitely feeling it this morning. Even if he finished the night with a long needed talk with Anzhin to be there for a friend... he'd chosen to drown out the mood that talk had left him in when he got home with a bottle of one of their many collected wines. Talthorn shared with him of course but this one sent both the elves fast asleep not long after a steamy celebration session. He was a Night elf, so it wasn't strange that he was up so late/early into the morning but since when did he start feeling the aches and pains of the night before when he woke? Was he getting old as the humans say? For that matter what was Talthorn's secret, his husband rarely suffered from hangovers. "Here you go, the ultimate hangover cure." Ranek said handing out a bloody mary with the best greasy food their booth could offer Kon on top. It wasn't just veggies and bacon but a whole slider or two that smelled like it was sure to stick to his gut and soak in some of that leftover alcohol sting in his gut. At first he was uncertain but in truth the smell of it made him long for it. He'd always been a sucker for a good bloody mary, a sign that Ranek was becoming more and more a friend to him to know this. "Is that pepper on fire?" Kon asked, taking it and looking at it closer, raising his shades to make sure he wasn't just imagining it. "That was El's doing. She wanted to get you good and spicy for tonight's show." He laughed as he sat down in a chair beside Kon. The elf smirked then took a much needed swig of the drink, savoring that spice that warmed one's gut as they drank it down. He was lucky he did well with spicy food, reaching for the skewer that held the flaming pepper on top. He caught sight of Elrosil across the way, hand on her hip as she was watching for Kon's reaction no doubt. Never one to let someone down, Kon raised the skewer and put the whole flaming pepper into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the wood as he pulled it off and chewed nice and slow all while watching her with his head lowered just enough she could catch a glint of those amber orbs of his just over the top of the shades he wore. "Do those bedroom eyes work on Talthorn?" She asked, stepping nearer so she didn't have to yell from the distance between them. Ranek was already laughing at the added tension Kon just laid on the stage for them.

Tonight was going to be Kon's first time performing something with some added spice between him and Elrosil. Usually when Inner Beast included him in their sets, they just scream together and Kon did his best with magical effects to mirror his 'beasty' outfit with El's. But for the last several weeks they'd been rehearsing for tonight and were about to feature their 'Hunting Grounds' song meant to spice up the audience with a real tease of passion found during the thrill of a hunt. He'd been teasing her each time they practiced with an 'almost' kiss and joking at her to press more into his chest with her body each time so it made it more real. She'd been teasing him that it couldn't have been more real for her. "Haven't failed me yet." Kon said once he swallowed, licking his lips and hooking his tongue on one fang. He enjoyed teasing her, course Kon enjoyed teasing just about anyone. But Elrosil had become a good friend of his too over the years and he genuinely loved it when she and Ranek asked for him to join them in their band's sets. He reached for one of the tiny sliders next, pulling it off and then rolling his head Ranek's way. "My friend, it's working already, I should kiss you." He said as he took a bite of the slider. Ranek laughed but Elrosil responded by stepping right up and sitting herself down in Kon's lap. "Stop hitting on that lame ass when I'm right here. It's ME who gets the kiss tonight fucker." She had always been crude with her words but that was part of her charm. Konietzko finished chewing, stirring his drink with one of the skewers and offered her one of the pickles on top to her lips. "You have a better chance than most as lucky for you my dear, I don't like sweet lips." He teased right back at her waiting to see if she'd play along. Maybe, just maybe if she played her cards right he'd grant her wish tonight.

@daily-writing-challenge @ranekvilmas @elrosil Mentions of @dicenne @anzhin-the-starman @talthorn-sylvoran @thecastcompany

[fizzigigsimmer]

Bake Off: A Harringrove Sim Story

Chapter 3

Copperdale Studios, early morning.

The studio is full as Nancy hosts her morning show for channel 4. Her guests are Steve & Billy. As the commercial break dies down, Jonathan gives the signal they are going live.

Nancy: Hello! Welcome back! I'm Nancy Wheeler and you're watching 'Good Morning With Nancy'. Joining me on the couch today are Billy Hargrove & Steve Harrington, the co-owners of Copperdale's very own Harringrove Cafe, and this summer the judges of Copperdale's very first Armature Bake Off!

She pauses to allow her guests to wave to the audience. They give an enthusiastic cheer.

Nancy: Steve, Billy, thank you for coming on.

Steve: We're glad to be here!

Nancy: since the announcement we've been flooded with calls and messages from folks who want to know more about the competition: where can they watch, how can they apply. But my sources tell me that you've already narrowed down the teams?

Steve: Yep that's right. We personally invited six of Copperdale's most talented amateur bakers to compete - who also happen to be really good friends of the cafe!

Nancy: Do you think that's fair though? It sounds like there's a lot of talented folks in the area who would love to be considered.

Billy shrugs.

Billy: Our business our rules. We don't work with just anybody.

Steve: For good reason! We've collaborated on menus in the past with many talented individuals and we've always been careful to maintain a high standard. So for this endeavor it just made sense to reach out to those folks.

Nancy: Well, viewers are excited to hear more about the teams. So lets get into it!

Cut away to montage

Team 1. El & Max

Most people can't tell that Billy & Max are siblings just by looking at them but five minutes in each other's company usually does the trick. Max and her best friend Eleven are local college students and when they aren't focused on school, or helping out at the cafe, they can be found hanging out in the game room at Argyle's Pizza Palace. Max loves to whip up tasty treats in her dorm room, and her additions to the menu have always been a hit. When she heard that the winner of the competition would get their own personalized menu....

Cut back to Studio

Billy: Wait a minute! What did you tell her?!

Steve: Lets talk about team #2! You guys are gonna love the next team.

The camera cuts away again

Team 2. Argyle & Eddie

Steve and Billy's friend Argyle is known for the best pizza in Copperdale. Argyle got his start as a delivery boy and inherited the business after his uncle retired. The Pizza Palace has flourished under his leadership and has become Copperdale's go to spot for game night and greasy eats to satisfy anybody's munchies! The other half of this dream team duo is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of 2nd Grave. The band started right here in Copperdale! They can often be heard practicing in the backroom of the record shop where Eddie works. But now that the band is taking off, Eddie probably won't be seen behind the counter too much longer. A lesser known fact about him is his secret passion for baking soft fudgy brownies that will take you out of this world!

Cut back to studio.

Nancy: Yes. Viewers will be happy to know that one of those members includes local rock legend, Eddie Munson of 2nd Grave. Is it true?

Billy: Unfortunately.

Nancy: After their single 'squeeze' reached the billboard top ten this summer, 2nd Grave has seen a great deal of sudden success. How did you convince Mr. Munson to take time out for this endeavor?

Steve: It was all Billy.

Billy: Yeah he pimps me out.

Nancy laughs nervously and tries to steer the conversation back to something more suitable for her younger viewers.

Nancy: I'm sure you're kidding.

Steve: No, really! Truthfully Billy is very good with people. He can be very persuasive...

A few weeks earlier....

Eddie and his band have regular gigs on Saturday night at Copperdale's only nightclub. It's a good opportunity to ambush him, Steve thinks.

But things don't go exactly as planned. Heather gets a little too drunk, and Steve leaves to make sure Robin and her girlfriend get home safely.

But Billy's got this covered. All he has to do is remind Eddie of how important this project is to Steve. Munson is a total marshmallow under all that leather.

Back in the studio...

Nancy: Aww, it sounds like you guys have some really great friends. It's nice knowing that you can always count on them to be there.

Steve smiles and Billy shrugs, looking a little embarrassed with the sentimental turn of the conversation. Nancy turns towards the camera.

Nancy: Coming up, we'll reveal the final team and meet the amateur bakers in person. After this commercial break!

To be continued in part 4

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter 14

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), angst, sad col & presley, cash being lovable again, emotions & crying, makeup sex, swearing

Tags: Let me know if you want to be added/removed from being tagged :) @triplexdoublex @jaxbreaker @mgklove99xx @jinx-on-mars-19xx @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @missamericanaxx @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen

Presley

I’m lost. 

A big part of me misses Colson so much that it physically hurts. It’s even worse having to be around him all the time. But another part of me is so shaken from him leaving. I haven’t felt ready to go back to him. What if he does it again? What if he abandons me?

I learned something when Colson left: I’m terrifyingly attached to him.

They say you become attached when you lose your virginity, but I think it’s more than that. I’m attached to our emotional connection. The sex is amazing, yes, but we connected so deeply before that. Colson was the first person who got me to open up about my fear of intimacy. He’s the first person who’s ever taken the time to really look into me, to give me a chance to explain myself. And he loved me for it anyway. 

I know he still loves me. He’s been patient and sweet, but I can tell this is hurting him, too. He only has a few shows left, and the thought of this ruining the end of his tour makes me sick. He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve the radio silence I’ve given him. I don’t know if he and Cash have talked, but all I know is I’m miserable. But for some reason, I can’t bring myself to talk to him. 

I’m curled around a pillow in my hotel room when a knock at the door startles me. Quietly, I tiptoe over to the door and peek out the peephole, relaxing when I see that it’s Cash. I open the door and he slides in. I grimace. “You smell like cigarettes,” I say.

“I know, sorry,” he says, walking past me to sit on the couch in my hotel room. 

“Can I help you?” I ask.

Cash looks me up and down disapprovingly. “Jesus. You sick?” he asks.

“Fuck you,” I mutter, plopping onto the bed. Sure, I’ve looked better. Sweatpants, giant t-shirt, greasy hair in a bun isn’t my best look. Paired with the mascara that’s probably streaked on my face from crying, I’m sure I look downright scary. But he doesn’t have to be a dick. “Why are you even here?”

“Good to see you, too, dear sister,” he says dryly.

I stare at him. “Why are you in such a good mood?”

Cash shrugs, pushing back his curls. “Kells and I made up,” he explains. The sound of Colson’s name is like a knife to my gut, but at the mention of their making up, my heart rises a little. 

“Oh,” I say. 

“Pres,” he says. “You know I approve of you two together, right?”

I lift my head, looking at him warily. “I mean, I know you feel bad, but you mean that?” I ask. “You actually approve?”

Cash nods. “I’ve never seen you so happy,” he says. “Well, not right now.” I flip him off. “But I mean it. Since you’ve been here with us, you’ve been so happy, and now I know why.”

I bite my lip hard, throat tightening. “He makes me really happy, Cash,” I say tightly, trying not to cry but tears well up in my eyes. I swallow hard. “I’m so scared.”

Cash frowns and gets up, coming over to sit next to me. He wraps an arm around me and pulls my head to his shoulder. “Of what?” he asks softly. 

I sniff, tears starting to fall. “Our lives are so different,” I sob. 

“Not really,” Cash says.

“Oh really?” I ask, lifting my head to look at him. “I’m a piercer. A homebody. Colson travels the world and makes music and goes to award shows and parties and shit.”

“So why can’t you do all those things, too?” Cash asks, pulling my head back to his shoulder.

I sigh. “I don’t know,” I mutter. “I can’t just…not work.”

“Who says you wouldn’t work?” Cash asks. “I’m sure we could find something for you.”

“Cash, I don’t even know if Colson wants that,” I say, but I know it’s a lie, deep down. Colson wants me with him, no matter how that looks. “Fuck,” I mutter.

“You guys need to talk,” he says. “He was scared, too, Pres. That's why he ran. Aren’t you doing the same thing to him?”

I consider this for a second, and then I groan. “I hate when you’re right,” I mutter unhappily.

Cash actually giggles. “I love when I’m right,” he says. I shove him away from me but my tears are slowing. I wipe off my face and stand up. 

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll talk to him.”

Cash winces. “Pres?”

“What?”

“You should probably shower first.”

“Yeah. On it.” My tone is flat and I flip him off once more before turning to head towards the bathroom. I pause, glancing back at him. “Cash?” He looks up at me. “Thanks.”

Cash grins crookedly. “Love you. Good luck,” he says, getting up to leave. “Just don’t give me any mini Machine Gun nieces or nephews yet.”

“Bye, Cash,” I say firmly, and the sounds of his laughter follow him down the hall. 

XX

My shower is long, luxurious, and much needed.

I shave. I deep condition my hair. I slather on sweet smelling lotion after, brush my teeth, and run a blow dryer through my hair until it’s not soaking wet. I don’t bother with makeup, opting for moisturizer only. Colson likes me with or without makeup. Loves me with or without it. 

From my suitcase, I pull out a simple pair of black panties, then slip on a pair of sweats over them. I put on a tank, check my appearance one more time, then text Colson with shaky hands to come to my room. I’m half convinced that he’ll ignore me, that this is it for us, and when he doesn’t respond, my heart sinks. 

Until I hear a knock on my door. 

I try not to sprint to the peephole, and when I see Colson outside, my heart could just about burst with affection. I open the door and look right up into those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks a little surprised when I open the door and he gives me a crooked little smile.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” I say, smiling softly. “Come in?”

He nods and walks in as I step aside. I let the door close behind us and watch him as he lopes into my room, hands in the pockets of his sweats. He looks so cozy in his sweats and hoodie, slippers on his feet. He turns around and looks at me.

“Were you about to go to bed?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I guess,” he says. He finally takes a second to look me up and down and he swallows. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly, biting my lip. 

“Look–” “Pres–”

We speak in unison and we both laugh nervously. “Colson,” I say. 

“Pres, I’m so fucking sorry for leaving,” he interrupts. He takes a tentative step closer to me, and it’s then that I really see just how red his eyes are. It breaks me. “I got scared. I thought you’d pick Cash over me and we’d be done and that was too much for me to handle, I guess,” he explains.

I nod. “I was scared, too,” I say. “I still am.” I shake my head. “But I did the same thing to you. I ran.”

“I understand,” he says, but his voice is so full of pain and my fingers twitch at my sides, desperate to touch him. 

“Colson, I’m so sorry,” I say thickly. His jaw clenches and his eyes look a little wet when they meet mine. 

“Pres,” he says tightly. “Please. Just. Come here?” 

I look up at him and stare for a second, and finally, I nod. I walk closer to him and I can tell he wants to embrace me as much as I want to do the same to him, but he’s scared. Guarded. I did that. This is my fault. My face crumples and I hang my head, but then Colson is pulling me into his arms and I completely shatter. 

It’s ugly. These aren’t delicate tears that stream seamlessly down my cheeks. No, this is snot-filled, swollen eyed, full-body sobbing that makes it hard to breathe. But if Colson can’t handle me like this, then he isn’t the one for me. 

But of course he can handle it. Because he’s Colson. He’s the man I fell in love with, the best friend I made in such a short time. The person I trust most in this world, who made me love myself. And I almost lost him. Colson scoops me up effortlessly and sits on the bed, placing me on his lap. I curl in on myself and let it all out, the feeling of his arms around me a comfort that I so desperately need. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Let it out, Pres, I’m not going anywhere.”

“M-m-me neither,” I manage wetly. “I’m s-sorry I left.”

“Me too,” Colson whispers, squeezing me a little tighter. “Pres…” He’s quiet but I can hear his heart racing. I don’t move a muscle. “Presley, I love you,” he says finally, and the pieces of heart start to fuse back together. 

Slowly, my sobs start to subside into just tears, and I catch my breath. “I love you, too, Colson,” I tell him, reaching up to touch his cheek. It’s slightly scruffy and I scrape my nails lightly over the scruff. Colson shivers. “Cols…”

“Hm?”

“We have a lot to figure out,” I say quietly. As I unwind myself from his arms, Colson lets me go, and he’s silent and stiff as I sit on the bed beside him, folding my legs. He turns to face me and his expression is one of so much worry and anxiety. I put my hand on his knee and squeeze gently. “Relax.”

His throat bobs and he studies my face. “Talk to me,” he croaks.

I wet my lips. “We need to talk about what this is going to look like,” I say finally. “The tour ends soon.”

Colson nods, pushing a hand through his fluffy hair. “I know,” he mutters. He looks into my eyes. “Pres, don’t go home.” He sits up a little straighter, as if this is the most important thing he’s ever had to say. “Please. Stay with me,” he pleads, taking both my hands. “I’ll take care of you. We can find you a piercing job here or you can be a stay-at-home girlfriend slash go-on-tour girlfriend. I don’t care. I just want you here with me.” Icy blue eyes wander my face desperately.

I let out a shaky breath. “What if–”

“We could ask that question until we die,” he interrupts, and hesitantly, I nod. “If it doesn’t work out,” he says, “then we cross that bridge when we come to it. You know who else lives in LA and is a part of this band? Your brother.”

“I could always move in with him if I had to,” I say, and he nods.

“Exactly.” He lifts a big hand to cup my cheek, and I feel so vulnerable and raw and exhausted and scared and elated. I could move to LA and be with Colson. Who says I can’t? It’s not like I’m leaving all that much behind in Michigan. 

“Okay,” I say finally, nodding.

Colson’s eyes light up and that beautiful smile, the one I love so much, lights up his face. “Okay?” he asks. “You’ll move to LA?”

“Yes,” I say, and I can’t hold back from beaming. 

Colson laughs and hauls me back into his arms, hugging my waist so tightly that it nearly takes my breath away. I breathe him in, clinging to the man I love, my legs wrapping around his waist. Our foreheads are pressed together and we’re laughing, so full of joy and excitement, and then we’re no longer laughing because we’re kissing, and time stands still. 

God, I missed this mouth. 

Nothing melts me quite like a kiss from Colson. His lips are so gentle and warm and soft and he tastes so good and smells even better. I hold his face so he can’t pull back, but I don’t think there was ever a risk of that. He kisses me desperately, hands splaying across my back, and within seconds, I’m turned on. 

Colson sighs into my mouth, and shit, I missed his sounds. I push a hand into his hair and tug, drawing a moan from his throat. I do it again, seeking the same sound, and he moans louder, sliding his hands up under my tank. 

“Colson,” I whimper softly, my heart pattering in my chest. 

“Pres?” he asks, his eyes on mine, and his pupils are blown with arousal. 

“Please,” I say, touching his lips. “Make love to me?”

Colson makes a helpless little sound and leans in again, kissing me hard. I moan as his teeth sink into my lip and tug. “Fuck,” he breathes. “You know I will, baby.”

Moments later, I’m on my back and Colson is on top of me, his sweatshirt and t-shirt discarded onto the floor. One of his big hands is creeping up under my tank top, warm fingertips skimming my stomach, and I shiver, arching at the sensation. I’ve read about makeup sex, seen it in many movies and shows, but nothing compares to it actually happening. Colson and I are going to reconnect, and I have a feeling we’ll be even closer when it’s over. 

I lift my arms as he removes my tank top, and then his eyes are on my chest, rememorizing. I bite my lip as he eyes me, and he slides an arm beneath my back, which pushes my chest up. Then, my nipple is in his hot mouth, and the wet roughness of his tongue has me moaning, my head falling back. My panties dampen immediately. I’m so reactive to him and I think I always will be. 

He takes his time on my chest, and when he pulls back, going up onto his knees, I practically salivate at the sight of his rigid cock through his sweats. He reaches down to adjust himself and I swear I could start panting.  I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want Colson right now. He catches my expression and smirks, squeezing his cock for me again. “Shit,” I squeak out. “Take them off.”

Colson’s smirk grows and he hops off the bed, letting his sweats pool around his ankles. He steps out of them and grips himself again, this time the only barrier between his hand and his dick a pair of thin boxer briefs. And I can’t help myself. I roll off the bed and sink to my knees.

“Fuck,” Colson says lowly as I slide my hands up his thighs. He looks so dominant and sexy above me, and I admire as much of his body as I can see. He removes his hand, placing it in my hair instead, and I lean in to rest my head against his thigh, my own trembling hand coming up to take the place of where his had just been. Colson grunts softly as I squeeze, finding the shape of him through the black material, and pleasure zips through me at the thought of having him inside me again. 

Hastily, I tug down his boxers and he kicks out of them, but I’m so impatient that he’s in my mouth before the boxers are even fully off. His moan is loud and tortured and his hips jerk, which presses him to the back of my throat. I gag and I start to pull off, embarrassed, but a gentle hand falls to the back of my head. “Oh shit,” he whimpers. “Baby…do that again?”

I look up at him, surprised, and blink before moving forward again, taking him all the way to the back of my throat once more. I gag again, and drool leaks from my mouth, but Colson seems to love it. He’s moaning like I’ve never heard before, and even though gagging isn’t the most pleasant feeling, I’d do it for the rest of my life to keep hearing him moan like that. After a moment, he gently starts to thrust his hips, pushing his cock deep every single time, and my eyes water, nails digging into his thighs, but I love it. 

“Ohhhh god,” Colson moans shakily, head falling back. “Baby, give me your hand.” I do as I’m told and he bends slightly, urging me to wrap my fingers gently around his balls. “Yeah, fuck, just like that. Squeeze ‘em, baby, lightly.” I follow his direction and I feel them tighten in my hand. His moan is shaky and his thighs tremble. As he continues thrusting, I keep applying gentle pressure, and as his moans grow higher and more needy, his balls tighten up so hard that it seems like it must hurt, but then he’s pulling his hips back as hot cum spills from his cock. 

It bursts onto my tongue and chin, immediately dripping down onto my breasts and I sit back on my heels, watching Colson. His eyes are wide, mouth hanging open when he watches his release trickle onto arguably his favorite part of my body, and I don’t know what comes over me, but suddenly, I’m rubbing his cum into my chest, bringing it down to my nipples. “Holy fuck,” he rasps, hand still curled around his dick. “That’s a good fucking girl.” 

Finally, he pants, sinking to his knees in front of me. I watch as he swipes two fingers through his cum and brings them to my mouth. I open up, allowing his fingers entrance, and suck his release off his thick fingers. He moans again, brow furrowing, and I love the power I have over him right now. He does it again until I’m all clean, and by the time he’s done, he’s either hard again or he never went soft in the first place. 

“Clothes off. On the bed,” he demands, and I do as I’m told, settling with my head on the pillows. “Nah,” he says, shaking his head. He lays down and pulls me on top of him. “Get that pussy in my mouth. Now,” he says firmly, and he’s being so direct and bossy and it makes me ache. 

“Wh-what?” I ask.

“Come ride my face,” he insists, pulling my waist. I let him pull me up over his face, and it feels so weird but so hot at the same time. I steady myself on the headboard with my thighs on either side of his head, and when his big hands go to my ass and pull my pussy to his mouth, the moan I release is unfamiliar to my own ears. Pleasure shoots through me and my thighs automatically clench around his head. He moans, digging his fingertips into my ass, keeping me there. 

I can physically feel my body react: my nipples stiffening, my spine going rigid, my hands clenching on the headboard. I give into the pleasure, and after a moment, I can’t help but roll my hips. Colson moans again and lets go of my ass with one hand to reach down and squeeze his dick. He loves this, and that turns me on even more, to the point where I can feel my own desire on my thighs and on his cheeks. But I’m not embarrassed. Not with Colson.

His hand returns to my ass, and I gasp, entire body stiffening when his middle fingers grazes between my cheeks. “Cols,” I manage, confused but not mad about it. He just hums against me and lets his finger circle a part of me that I never associated with sexual pleasure. But something about it is erotic and I give into the pleasure, arching my back to open myself up more for him. His finger moves down, gathering some of my slick, and uses it as lubricant to gently ease a finger inside my ass. 

My cheeks are beet red, and I take back what I said about not being embarrassed. This is scary, but it feels good, and I’m embarrassed by how much I’m enjoying it, embarrassed at the fact that with one simple motion, I’m all of a sudden hovering on the threshold of coming. Colson teases me, his tongue working wonders against my clit as his finger moves slowly, and with a broken cry, my hips jerk and I come hard. 

I whine and roll and circle my hips through my peak, my eyes squeezing so tightly shut that I see stars. Finally, I slump, and he eases his finger out of me, gently pulling my hips back so he can breathe. He pants and smirks up at me, licking his lips. Shakily, I climb off him and lie beside him, panting. “Shit, Cols,” I manage, and he chuckles. 

“Was that okay?” he asks, resting a hand on my belly. 

I look at him and nod. He grins and kisses me softly, and I should hate that I can taste myself, but I don’t. Colson kisses me for a long few minutes, and then his hand is back between my legs. “Need to be inside of you,” he murmurs, and I moan, nodding quickly. “Can we try something new?” he asks. 

“Of course,” I say. He rolls onto his back again and pulls me on top of him. I raise a brow. “Y-you want me to ride you?” I ask.

Colson smirks. “Fuck yeah, baby. That okay?”

I nod and swallow hard, nervous that I’ll be bad, but I trust Colson. He maneuvers me right where I need to be and lifts my hips so I hover over him. With one hand on my hip and the other holding his cock, he guides me down on him, and my jaw drops at the way he feels sliding through my walls until he’s home. I gasp at the depth, at the way the head of his cock rests right against my spot, and my legs tremble on either side of him.

“Want you to move your hips just like you did on my face, okay?” he says tightly, cheeks flushed with pleasure. I nod and wet my lips, placing my hands on his chest before rolling my hips experimentally. Pleasure explodes when his cock rubs perfectly against my spot, and the stuttered moan that leaves me surprises both of us. “Good?” Colson asks, blue eyes dancing in the low light. 

“Good,” I whimper, doing it again. This time, Colson moans, too, and his sounds encourage me to keep moving, to keep rolling my hips forward so he can grind against the spot that makes my skin tingle. “H-holy shit, baby,” I whine.

Colson’s hands go to my ass and he helps me move faster, harder. I just came, and it’s not going to take long for it to happen again. “Fuck, come here,” he begs, pulling me down so we’re chest to chest and kissing. I kiss him hard, bitingly, and he moans into my mouth, his hands caressing my ass and hips and waist. He starts to lift his hips in time with mine, and my spot is so deliciously abused that the whines and whimpers that leave me are almost constant and totally uncontrollable. 

“Cols,” I manage, and that’s all I can do before I break. Pleasure explodes deep inside of me, rushing down to my curling toes and bringing goosebumps to every inch of my flesh. My hips jerk and roll and rut and Colson holds me tightly, his face buried in my neck. 

“Fuck,” he gasps against my skin, and he tries to lift my hips but I force them back down, tightening my muscles to stay on him. Colson curses and his hips jerk as he comes, too, and the sensation is strange and new but nice. He pulses inside me, and his release is warm against where I’m still throbbing. Our hips jerk against one another’s and our noises mingle in the room, and at the same time, we finally go still. 

Colson’s face is still buried against my neck and he’s gone quiet, his body trembling. I hold him close, tracing my nails gently up and down his arm as I come down, but then, my neck is wet. I freeze when I realize what’s happening.

Colson is crying.

It isn’t just teary eyes this time. It’s real, and his breath is shaky and his hands tremble against my back. “Cols,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Baby, it’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps crying silently, and I think I should probably be startled, but for some reason, it makes sense to me. I cried the first night he touched me. Emotional release, he called it. Now it’s his turn. 

We’re still locked together, as close as two people can be, and though I can feel that he’s not as hard anymore, I don’t move. I can’t move. The thought of being away from him makes me feel a little sick. But finally, he starts to calm down, his breathing evening out. He presses a kiss to my neck. “You need to go clean up,” he rasps.

“It’s okay, baby,” I insist. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

“Nah, baby,” he says. “Go pee. Clean up and come back to me.”

I nod and he helps me to lift my hips, both of us hissing as we disconnect. I grimace as I feel his cum dripping down my thighs, and I shove my hand between my legs to try and catch it while I waddle into the bathroom. After peeing and cleaning up like I was told, I return to find Colson tucked under the blanket, his bare, colorful chest on display, and the sight of his slightly swollen eyes breaks me. 

I hurry back into bed, snuggling right up to him, our legs tangling as strong arms envelop me. We’re quiet for a beat, my head on his warm chest, and all of a sudden, I’m drowsy. I haven’t been sleeping well without him, and I’m sure he’s in the same boat. He reaches over and turns off the light.

“Hey,” I whisper. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Colson hums and finds my lips in the dark. “I love you, Pres,” he murmurs. “I won’t leave again. I promise.”

“Me neither,” I assure him. “You tired?” “Fucking exhausted,” he admits. “You?”

“Yes,” I agree. “Let’s go to sleep, baby.”

With that, we snuggle closer, our limbs intertwined, and we fall into oblivion quickly, finally feeling safe again.

[cannedbeefaroni]

Get This (Joby Taylor X Reader) (SMUT)

Summary: You're the lead singer of a less than successful local band. You find yourself unlucky enough to run into your very first shitty rock guy at a gig, and hatred blossoms.

Content: SMUT 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, unhealthy dynamics, don't replicate irl, hatefuck, public sex, bathroom sex, clothed sex, dryhumping, finishing in pants, joby gets slapped in the face

Reader is written to be entirely gender neutral, but is implied to have an androgynous appearance (Joby implies he can't tell whether they're a boy or a girl)

Genuinely, you felt like you were going nowhere. Being stuck as a local band playing gigs at dingy bars and clubs with 15 max patrons was taking a big hit on your ego as the lead of a band. Your band members didn’t seem to give a shit, gladly taking whatever they can get, getting high off their balls every week and generally not caring about life. You wanted more out of this, and being so stagnant made you agitated all the time. After trying so hard to make things work, ultimately, very little progress was made. At one point the band got lucky, getting a gig at a park for a couple shows sprawled throughout the month. Sure, the set lists were composed of songs you hated and thought were boring, to appeal to the local community but the teenagers who came to watch thought you guys were the heaviest motherfuckers on the planet. Sadly, 21 and up venues did not have dumb teens with bad taste, and most of those audiences were either dead or unamused.

At the very least your drummer was passionate about the band, despite being a little too laid back. Your guitarist and bassist straight up couldn’t be bothered. You contemplated trying to recruit new members, but it would’ve taken so much trial and error. Until your guitarist quit. You always had the tendency to lash out at her whenever she acted diva-ish, but the last time was the last straw. You threw a bottle at her head, missing as it shattered against the wall behind her. Before you could apologize, she got up and left. You had to pick up the slack, since you knew how to play, but you weren’t used to singing and playing at once while performing. Every show since then had been exhausting, and you and your band members had failed to find any recruits. Months had passed, and you accepted that you had become a three person band. 

Through all the bad shit, you were lucky to get a new gig at a lounge. You were nervous, knowing if the manager didn’t like the band's performance, you probably wouldn’t get to play there again. Despite how hopeful and excited you were, you were worried sick. You wanted to practice with the others as often as possible, but you could only push them so much, so you spent even more time practicing the set list alone. You were losing your mind, feeling overwhelmed despite the stakes being low. You wanted to prove yourself, but you didn’t know who to. Maybe to yourself, or to random people you didn’t even care about. 

Setting up for the show, you ran around with equipment, skipping around like an idiot trying to get everything ready. The two others took their time, which they had every right to, since there was no rush. At some point, your drummer placed a drink on the table next to you, insisting you needed to loosen up before the show. You were hesitant to accept, but you eventually agreed and downed the drink. It was strong, but just one drink wouldn’t get you drunk. Turning around to take a seat, you notice some fucked up looking guy slouched in a seat at the table. The sun had just set and he already looked drunk, head leaning back with his legs spread and ass on the edge of the seat. His jeans were too low waisted and too tight, and his overall look could be described as greasy. Wondering how long he’d been there, you pulled a chair away from the table, awkwardly sitting trying to keep a distance. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around, sweetheart,” his voice creaked like a door, deep and lazily. You gave him an uncomfortable look. 

“This is our first gig here,” you gave a half smile, trying to be polite but ending up coming across dismissive. 

“Oh, shit. I had no idea you were in the band. I thought you just worked here or something,” he chuckled, but you failed to find what was funny. “Y’know, I’ve toured with a couple bands, but none of them had any female members.”

You had no response, so you sat silently, somewhat hoping the conversation would die out. 

“You are a girl, right? It’s hard to tell sometimes,” he doesn’t stop talking, and for some reason thinks he can salvage the conversation. 

“What’s your fucking problem, dude?” you sigh, wondering why you keep entertaining his bullshit. 

“Chill, man, I know your nerves are shot ‘cause of this gig. You guys are new, right?” he scoffs, hanging his head to the side, pushing his hair back with a cocky grin. 

“Yeah, but I’m not young. I’m in my late 20’s,” you roll your eyes. 

“Hang on, I didn’t say-“

“Come on man, you’re a shitty rock guy. I know you’re trying to get with younger chicks. Your bullshit won’t work on me,” you snap back at him, losing your patience. He fucking laughs, and you have no idea why it enrages you so much. 

“You got a rockstar attitude, that’s for sure,” his smile pissed you off.

You scoffed as you got up without uttering a word. There wasn’t time for this, you needed to get some vocal exercises in before the show, so you headed to the bathroom for some privacy. You had no idea why you were so embarrassed of warming up your voice, it just felt awkward doing it in front of other people. There were only two bathrooms in the establishment, both having only one toilet. While you really hoped the turnout would be good, you also hoped it wouldn’t get crowded enough to the point of the bathrooms having a 2 hour wait time. 

When the show was about to begin, all your worries skyrocketed. You started worrying if the audience wouldn’t like the set list, but the manager who booked you guys approved it and even picked some of the songs. It was going to be the first time a venue let you play as heavy as you wanted, but by the looks of the patrons who were primarily older men, you weren’t sure if you had the right audience. They were probably expecting classic rock, which your band definitely would not deliver on. Despite your worries, the manager assured you that it’d be fine. 

As the show was minutes from starting, you and the band made your way to the stage. You went to plug your mic into the amp, and as you did you caught a glimpse of that weirdo you spoke with earlier. He was sitting at a booth across from two women who looked like they just turned 21 yesterday. They were squealing with glee at the sight of him, which utterly confused you. You couldn’t help but eavesdrop, hearing one of the girls exclaim, “oh my god, are you Joby Taylor?” No wonder he had such a massive ego. He’s probably from some hotshot band that’s popular with teenage girls. You rolled your eyes hearing him soak in their praise, and humble-brag about himself. Everything Joby did enraged you. He caught you staring and shot a wink at you, and you could’ve sworn you popped a hernia. You knew it was stupid to let something so dumb bother you, but it was as if Joby was created in a lab to be the most insufferable rocker guy on the planet. You egged yourself on, needing to convey that rage in your first song.

The show started, and you jumped up on stage and swung your guitar over your shoulder. You gave your usual intro, but before starting you pulled an index card out of your pocket to read out the promotion you were forced to by the manager. You tossed it aside, readying yourself for possible humiliation. You made it a habit not to look at the crowd, because that always leads to awkward eye contact with a stranger. Staring at the back wall was the best bet, but of course, with your luck, your eyes glanced at Joby, and he stared at you with his eyes hooded and his chin resting in his hand. He was judging you, probably thinking he was better than you. 

“Gimme a scream,” the drummer called out, and you did, without breaking eye contact with Joby. If there was one thing you were proud of, it was your voice. You’d often get compliments on how you can scream like hell, but also have a pretty singing voice. This first song, however, was all screaming. It felt risky doing it first, but watching Joby’s eyes widen in horror as he heard the demonic growl ripped from your throat was priceless. 

I DON’T LIKE A FUCKING THING

MUSIC SUCKS DICK

SUCK THE SNOT END OF THE TIP OF MY PRICK, YOU FUCKING CUNTS

GET OFF MY BACK

I DON’T WANNA DO A SHOW WITH YOUR SHITTY FUCKING BAND

You leaped into action, jumping around as you played along with the band. Being a more eccentric performer, you liked having freedom to take the stage and command an audience, but the added guitar playing made that way harder, especially when you just started learning the instrument 3 years ago. It exhausted you, and was probably the reason you were so much more irritable all the time. You were kidding yourself when you thought you didn’t need a guitarist. Considering Joby, though, you wanted to prove in your performance that you could do anything. That you were better than him, no matter how famous or experienced he was.

DON’T BERATE ME ‘CAUSE YOU CAN’T STOP ME 

FROM BREAKING YOUR FACE, IT’S YOU I’LL ERASE

IT’S HATE, MOTHERFUCKER, HATE, MOTHERFUCKER, HATE 

It felt good screaming all this out after all the bullshit you had to endure. You didn’t care if the audience didn’t like your band anymore, you just wanted to fuck shit up. As you looked back at Joby, you noticed that the girls who were sitting with him just a while ago had gotten up and were headed for the door. It seemed like they weren’t big fans of heavy metal. Joby seemed isolated and upset over it, and you grinned to yourself as if you did a job well done. Two less girls who get to be manipulated by some greasy dude. You felt euphoric as you screamed the vulgar lyrics, as if you finally got the chance to cuss out everyone out there who’s hurt you. 

LIFE’S SO SHITTY, BUT AIN’T IT FUCKING GREAT? 

LIFE’S SO SHITTY, BUT AIN’T IT FUCKING GREAT? 

Then you realized that you wanted him all alone. Joby was inside your head, and no matter what you couldn’t spin it any other way. He had you wrapped around his finger and you couldn’t do a damn thing. You hated him for seemingly no reason. Maybe it was the way he seemed to try pulling you in, as if he wanted to push you into doing things you’d regret. Like you were a piece of meat. You weren’t even a person to him. He thinks he can just run around fucking any groupie he wants and run off like nothing ever happened. You’re not a groupie. You’re the motherfucking lead singer of Poor Impulse Control. 

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE,

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE,

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE,

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE,

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE,

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE,

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE,

GET THIS OR DIE, GET THIS OR DIE

You were jumping and stomping on every GET THIS OR DIE. You wanted to stomp it into everyone’s thick fucking skulls. By the end of the song, you felt like you just underwent an exorcism. There was no more hatred, just sweat, tears, and your racing heart. The audience actually clapped. Though it was dry, they were pleased by the performance. You laughed as tears rolled down your face. 

About an hour or so later, the show ended, and the turnout was decent. The audience seemed somewhat impressed by the performance, and that was good enough for you. Right after signing off for the night, you headed straight for the bar, completely spent and sweaty. You weren’t planning on getting drunk, you were just in desperate need of some water. 

“You were really cool up there,” the bartender smiled, sliding a glass of water over to you. “Are you guys gonna be a regular gig?”  

“Thanks,” you said shyly, voice quiet and horse from the performance. “Not sure. Depends if he likes us or not.” 

“He would,” another voice interjects. Joby was sitting at the stool next to yours, taking shots. You groaned, almost inaudible. “He likes that kinda trashy stuff.” The bartender left the scene, sensing the tension rising between you and him. 

“Trashy?” you sneer. 

“I mean, you gotta admit it’s trashy, but you make it work, babe,” he ruffles your already messed up hair, like he’s cool with you. 

“You would know. You’re the definition of trash,” you grumble. “I doubt your band’s music is any better.”

“Actually, I’m not in a band right now,” he admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Y’know, something’s got me thinking.”

He leans his head against his hand, elbow on the counter. As he leans in a little, you sit unphased.

“You guys seem to be short a member, right?” 

“What makes you say that?” you brush him off. 

“I don’t think you’re all that great of a guitarist,” he starts, but you’re ready to counter argue. He presses a finger against your lip, shushing you so he can continue. “Your vocals are good, but that guitar is holding you back from being great.” 

“So what? I can get better,” you swat his hand away. 

“It would be easier if you had a guitarist, no?” his tone becomes soft, like he’s pretending to be a nice guy all of a sudden. “Someone with experience?” the way he inched closer made you feel cornered.

You were absolutely stuck. After all this time, what you wanted was handed to you on a silver platter, but in the form of a walking greaseball. Staring at your glass, you still felt his gaze burning holes in you. “I guess. If you really want we could hold an audition for you,” you say reluctantly, “but I don’t know if the band would be cool with it.” You search around for them, but they have already packed up and left. There goes your scapegoat. 

“I think they left without you,” he leaned in, whispering in your ear as if it was a secret. It sent a shiver down your spine, making you tense. His hand brushes along your thigh ever so slightly. Though every feeling you had about Joby was visceral hatred, your body reacted to him embarrassingly. You wanted to find him completely unappealing, but unfortunately he was totally your type. The way he made you feel was unbearable. Uncomfortable pulsing as you sat in your soiled underwear. The fact that your band members weren’t there to judge made you bolder than usual. 

“They tend to do that,” you replied, looking down at your lap pensively. He slowly brought his hand to your knee, resting his palm against it as he dragged it upward slightly. You stared at his fingers with jealousy. They were incredibly long, which probably made fingering any instrument easy. Then again, it would make fingering easy, period. His fingers gripped your thigh, startling you. 

“Guess I have you all to myself,” he grinned, and it sent a rush through you. 

You’re an idiot, so you got up, grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the bathroom. Luckily the bar was nearly empty again by the end of the night, so there were no occupants. You wish you were drunk right now so you had something to blame this on, but you needed relief and he was very much willing to give it to you. As you shut the bathroom door, you pushed him up against it, and before you got the chance, he was the one to break the space between, kissing you intensely. You instantly melted into him, pressing into him as your arms hooked around his neck. He was way too good at this, instantly taking the lead, grabbing the base of your hair and tilting your head, allowing your lips to lock perfectly. You pressed your knee against his crotch, and he groaned. His legs intertwined with yours, and you started grinding against his thigh. Snaking a hand down your back, it grabbed your ass, forcing the movement of your hips to stay in rhythm with his. Eagerly, you took his tongue into your mouth, letting him lick up the inside. He tasted just like you expected, like cigarettes and vodka. You whined for him like you were begging, and it felt humiliating. 

He pulled you away by your hair, making you whimper. You stared up at him as he chuckled at you, loving the way you submitted to him. “Admit it,” he said, slowly repositioning your hips, lining your crotch up with his. “Admit you need me,” he grinded into you, the head of his cock brushing over the perfect spot, making you moan for him. He humped you like he was showing you how he’d fuck you, and it made your mind go numb. Grabbing your face by the cheeks, he forced you to make eye contact with him. He thrusted hard, watching you squeal at the intense stimulation. “You can do it, sweetheart.” 

“I need you. I need you,” you whined, breathless and weak as he gave you a few sharp thrusts. 

“What do you need?” he pulled your face closer, lips inching closer to yours. 

“Fine! I need you in my band!” you exclaimed.

He chucked. “Now, was that so hard?” he cooed before pulling you in again, brushing his tongue along the seam of your lips, wrenching your jaw open once again to let it in. His thrusts were ruthless, abusing your nerves, pushing you to the edge. His lips traveled to your neck, licking the delicate skin over your pulse point before sinking his teeth in. As he bruised you, all control was lost as you were pushed to the point of cumming in your pants. Despite trying your hardest to stay quiet, you let out a borderline pornographic screech. Most embarrassingly, in your foggy state of mind, you moaned his name as your head fell to the crook of his neck, body melding into his. Heavily, you panted as you came down from your high. 

“So, you do know who I am,” he chuckled cruelly, making you scowl. You suddenly felt his hands come between you two, and you failed to notice his fingers working his buckle, then unzipping his pants. Only when you pulled away slightly and glanced down, you were met with the sight of his cock springing from the waistband of his underwear, unprompted. 

In a state of shock, you delivered a sharp smack to his face, making his head recoil to the side. You stared widely in horror as your hand slapped over your mouth, watching his cheek bloom red. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered meekly. “I don’t think I want to go any further,” you clarified as you pulled away from him. 

“I can see that,” he brought his hand to his face, rubbing the stinging skin. Hastily, he pulled his pants back up.

“Uhm,” you started, trying to find what to say. “We can have the audition tomorrow, if you still want,” you suggested awkwardly, hoping the original plan was still in motion. 

“Only if you promise not to slap me again.” 

“Only if you promise not to take your cock out again,” you rebuttal.

“Deal.”

[princessconsuela120]

So while writing the next two chapters I’ve realized there’s a lot of extra info I haven’t added so I’m gonna make this a second info page for Juno, broken down into sections!

Basics:

- Juno Marsh is the daughter of Sharon and Randy Marsh, and twin sister of Stanley Marsh, younger sister of Shelley Marsh. She is the youngest in the family.

- She lives in South Park Colorado next door to the Broflovski’s

- She had mid length raven black hair, and deep blue eyes.

- She owns a dog named Sparky.

- She is friends with her brothers friends, though her closest friend is Kenny McCormick.

- She is a junior at South Park High.

Friends:

Kenny McCormick - lead guitarist in the band Crimson Dawn. Best friends with Juno Marsh since preschool. Was turned mortal in 5th grade after a mission to defeat his curse set out by him and Juno, where they broke him of his curse. Big pothead, but not to the point where it’s a problem. Dumb on the outside, but is actually really smart. Works a job to provide mostly for his little sister. Karen adores Juno. Kevin McCormick and Shelly Marsh have been dating for 3 years, and were set up by Kenny and Juno.

Stan Marsh - lead singer in the band Crimson Dawn. Still best friends with Kyle. Short tempered, but actually very sensitive. Hates his family lovingly. Has depression, takes anti-depressants. Has an alcohol problem, though he’s trying very hard to fix it. Refuses to take off his hat, Juno had to get him to wash his hair more. Not as greasy as it was when they were kids, but not the best.

Kyle Broflovski - Has been in love with Juno Marsh since the 4th grade. He fell first she fell harder. The smartest in the class. Is on the varsity basketball team, number 19 (Juno’s bday). Still wears his hat all the time, hates his hair but has warmed up to it more. Hates anything to do with alcohol or drugs. Designated driver always. Helps his brother with homework. Babysits Ike with Juno frequently. An awkward teenage boy, though a lot of girls have crushes on him (including Juno).

Eric Cartman - Still an asshole. Is trying his best. Has chilled down a lot since 4th grade. Was put on medication and sent to therapy after being diagnosed with Bipolar II disorder, with the help of Juno. Almost flunked out of high school, Juno tutored him which led to discovering his mental illness. Is surprisingly a lot better after starting medication. He pretends not to tolerate anyone but actually has a soft spot for his friends. Is slowly working his way up to being forgiven, even by Kyle. Forgets to take his meds and can be insufferable when Liane doesn’t remind him.

Butters - still the sweetest boy alive. Was diagnosed with autism, with Juno’s help. Brought both Juno and Kenny to Hawaii, they’re his favorite people. Juno is the only one allowed to call him Leo. He’s softened up a lot after discovering that he isn’t crazy his mind is just a little different. Owns a cat named Oatmeal, she’s basically his service cat.

Craig Tucker - Cousins with the Marsh family (Laura is Randy’s sister). Very close with Juno, has a fake rivalry with Stan. Smoking buddies with Juno and Kenny.

Tweek Tweak - works for tweak bros with his family. Juno and Craig convinced him to form a new recipe for coffee, and has slowly derailed him from his meth addiction. He still has raging anxiety but is getting healthier. Tweek and Craig have been together since 4th grade.

Wendy Testaburger - Has been dating Stan off and on since 4th grade. Good friends with Juno Marsh, even if her and Stan are on a break.

Stick of truth:

Story will come later!

Juno is known as Princess Juno of the Nine Realms, Princess Juno for short. She is “married” to the elf prince Kyle, which United their kingdoms and made them king and queen.

Fractured But Whole:

Story will come later!

Juno is known as The Gemini.

Her abilities are cloning, power replication (can temporarily take the powers of an individual), yin and Yang ( damages all enemies but strengthens all teammates), and water manipulation. She had started her own super hero team against Coon and Friends titled Supers of Terrific Dare (STDs) with members; The Gemini (Juno), Mysterion (Kenny), Call Girl (Wendy), SheWolf (Annie), FashionMonger (Bebe), Barbaria (Red),

Nightshade (Nichole), Henrietta, Michael, Pete, Super Craig, Wonder Tweek. (Yes she gained girl and goth alliance, making her the strongest group)

More of the girls superhero’s I came up with come later in a character chart!

[swankyangles]

I will share this irritation with you now

- ??what the fuck does that mean?

- no... it absolutely is not, just.... flat out, no. what....

Christ, this greasy honkey is annoying and ignorant.

14? is that a thing? WHERE DID YOU EVEN GET THIS IDE-

oh, he's from L.A, so that explains alot.

NOTHING I HAVE SEEN IS ACTUALLY CHEAP! lying piece of shit, irritating too. this is what happens when you adhere to a montra or a ignorant principal rooted in nonsense like "the 70's are always better" or "analog is always better". and then you do ZERO research. This is like, why we have to keep guitarists out of electronic music.

HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN???

You know what this isn't worth it I'm just gonna .... wait... what's that...

oh hell yeah.