#let's fucking headbang in the streets

[in-death-we-fall]

Brothers Beyond

Slipknot may never fully recover from the passing of Paul Gray, but their imminent return to the stage at UK’s Sonisphere is going to be an act of catharsis for fans and band alike. Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan and Joey Jordison open up to Hammer exclusively.

Words: Dom Lawson Pics: Steve Brown

Metal Hammer 218 - June 2011 (drive link)

Editor’s note: The dark lord speaks…

16 Gigantic Balls.

That’s what Slipknot had to have to get back in the saddle after the inestimable loss of Paul Gray last year, and judging by our breathtakingly candid interview this month, their appearance at Sonisphere this summer is going to be one for the history books. Slipknot’s return is nothing short of heroic, and we hope you’ll love reading Dom Lawson’s piece as much as we did putting it together.

But then Hammer’s always been about getting under the skin of things to bring you a depth and breadth of metal coverage that you won’t find anywhere else, and this issue’s packed with the kind of chest-swelling bravado that makes real metal bands tick. From Biff Byford’s frankly inspiring quest to defy trends and stick to his guns, to Mastodon’s rise from the depths of obscurity to become one of the world’s foremost lords of the riff, to our first glimpse of Iron Maiden simply fucking killing it on a world-tour that’s more like a global victory lap, Hammer is all about the sorts of tales that make the musicians we love as inspiring as the music that they create. Oh, and metal in… Botswana? The metal empire is truly growing at a staggering pace – be the first to read and read about it.

And as we barrel ever-closer to this year’s positively thrilling Golden God awards, we hope you’ll take the time to add your votes to the hundreds of thousands we’ve already received. It’s also your chance to win tickets to what’s sure to be the most ridiculously metallic award show in history. I mean really, Devin and Twisted Sister on the same night? Whollee. Fucking. Shiiiit! Just head to www.metalhammer.co.uk/goldengods to cast your vote and take a part in heavy metal history.

Before we kick off these headbanging proceedings, let’s take a moment to spare a thought for the late, truly great Scott Columbus, erstwhile Manowar drummer and an inspiration to any metalhead who’s ever felt their pulse quicken to the sound of a mighty drum. Our thoughts are with his friends and family in this difficult time. Horns at half mast.

STAY METAL..

Brothers Beyond

Slipknot may never fully recover from the passing of Paul Gray, but their imminent return to the stage at UK’s Sonisphere is going to be an act of catharsis for fans and band alike. Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan and Joey Jordison open up to Hammer exclusively.

Words: Dom Lawson Pics: Steve Brown

When the news broke last December, you could hear the cheers of elation and sighs of relief from the hot streets of Rio de Janeiro to the sun-blistered stone of the Parthenon. Despite having endured an horrific year that had seen them reduced from a seemingly invincible nine-man wrecking crew to a wounded but dignified band of brothers, following the tragic death of founder member and bassist Paul Gray back in May, Slipknot announced that (sic) were going to return, headlining the Sonisphere festival at Knebworth this July and playing a handful of other prestigious dates. The events of 2010 unquestionably pulled the rug from underneath this seemingly unyielding band’s feet and plunged them into a period of mourning and destabilising uncertainty; the endless and often witless speculation of pundits and fans on the internet only adding to the sense that the Iowans’ rudder had fallen off, leaving them lost and directionless. In the end, those who were predicting the end of the Slipknot story looked very foolish. The end of Slipknot? Don’t be fucking ridiculous.

Four months on from that announcement, drummer Joey Jordison and percussionist and visual king Shawn ‘Clown’ Crahan, the other two parts of the unholy trinity of Des Moines miscreants who put the band together in the first place, are in a far more buoyant and defiant mood than many may have predicted after watching the heartbreaking press conference that followed Paul’s death. Speaking to Hammer as the wheels of progress start to grind into action, both men have plenty to say about the past, present and future of their band and, despite having barely spoken to the press since the passing of their friend, both are happy to answer the questions that fans have been dying to ask during those months of sorrow. First and foremost, we have to ask what prompted them to stage their comeback in Europe rather than at home in the US.

“If we were gonna return, why would we not go to Europe first?” states Joey. “It was the right decision at the right time. Europe’s always been amazing to us, especially the UK. I still remember our first show there, on December 13, 1999; I still have dreams about it! It was one of the biggest landmarks of our career so why not go back now? Slipknot is not going to die. It’s a lifeforce, man. With all the feelings and emotions and the passion of one of the people who really helped to start our band pushing us forward, this is how we start again.”

You always seem to have had a strong relationship with the UK; ever since the self-titled album came out in 1999 and UK metal fans immediately embraced what you were doing, arguably more so than in any other territory. Is the show at Knebworth going to be the most important of all?

“The show at Knebworth is going to be heavy, man,” says Shawn. “We thought Download was fuckin’ heavy in 2009, but this’ll be something else. I don’t even know how to describe it, because the UK kids know us, man. I remember the first show at the Astoria in ‘99. I walked into the Astoria and there was a kid in an orange jumpsuit and a clown mask, and he’d paid £85 to have the mask made so he could be me. I couldn’t believe it. I thought I’d achieved everything when I got to the UK; the UK totally gets us. That show will be the heaviest show on the tour by far. There’ll be a lot of tears that day.”

“The feeling right now between all the bandmembers is the same feeling we had when we first came to the UK,” adds Joey. “This is a special event. It’s not like being on tour. We’re doing this out of our hearts and out of respect for our band and mostly out of respect for our fans. This isn’t contrived, some list of tour dates. This is speaking directly to the UK and to Europe. This is not bullshit. People will be pleasantly surprised by what we’re bringing.”

One of Slipknot’s strengths has always been that they’ve been adept at presenting a united front to the world. Even though it’s always been apparent that this is a band full of wildly differing personalities, the whole point of Slipknot has often seemed to be the expression of a single, focused purpose, uniting band and audience in a grand outpouring of righteous anger and joyous energy. As a result, the last year has been a little unsettling for those observing the band, not least because for the first time it has been made plain that not everyone in Slipknot has been reading from the same tight-lipped, thoughtful page. In particular, frontman Corey Taylor has been making frequent public pronouncements that have carried a faint air of pessimism and negativity.

“Part of me is ready [to carry on with the band] and there’s a part of me that’s not,” he stated back in March. “I have a lot of trepidation about it. I don’t know how to feel. I know a lot of the guys in the band are trying not to show that side, and I can’t.”

In light of the fact that Slipknot had already announced their intention to return, thus strongly implying that the band could well continue beyond these few shows and make another record too, Corey’s comments, seem, at best, a little unhelpful. Do his publicly expressed doubts about the future of the band run deeper or is this simply a case of one man’s emotions leading him away from the general consensus?

“Well, I would get into a lot of trouble if I try to speak for people, so it’s important that you print it like I say it, and I’m saying that I’m not speaking for anybody except myself,” states Shawn, firmly but diplomatically. “But in my opinion the majority of people in the band need Slipknot, want Slipknot, have no doubt that Slipknot will continue. There may be people in the band who may have a harder time feeling what they’re experiencing and only they can get over that and only they can make themselves feel that way. Hopefully their feelings will work out, and that’s exactly what we’re doing, getting together to celebrate Paul’s life, his love for music, his love for Slipknot, his love for his fans.”

The last few years have been upsetting for rock fans, with numerous major figures passing away, leaving huge gaps that can never be filled. The loss of Paul resonated as loudly and powerfully as any, partly because he was such a talented and revered figure within the metal world, but also because Slipknot have always seemed to be impervious to the hazards that cause most bands to noisily disintegrate or feebly fizzle out, whether they be as trivial as ‘musical differences’ or as monumental as mortality itself. And yet, despite having been temporarily stopped in their tracks, few would bet against Slipknot roaring back into action at full strength and with renewed vigour when they hit the road again this summer. As another band appearing at Sonisphere this July once sang, “You cannot kill what doesn’t die…”

“It’s always been that way,” agrees Joey. “Our first tour was Ozzfest in ‘99 and we fuckin’ blew every other band off the fuckin’ stage, every night. It was not even a competition. It’s not like we were trying to beat anyone; we were just being ourselves. We toured with Coal Chamber and some other bands that year too, and I recall my friend Dez Fafara telling me that one guy from one of the other bands had looked at him when we were playing and said, ‘Can you see what we got ourselves into here?’ They tried to kick us off the tour, every band did. One show in Oklahoma City we couldn’t fit anything on the stage and they kicked us off the show and we still outsold every other band’s merch! That’s the strength of what we are when we’re together as a band. That’s not ego talking, it’s the truth. It is what it is, and I’m so happy and so fulfilled with everything we’ve done and everything that we’re gonna do.”

“A lot of people won’t know that we were done with All Hope Is Gone, and we were going to take a break like we do after every record,” says Shawn. “That’s why people love our band; we’re not trying to get off our label and make a bunch of shitty records and try to shove ‘em down fans’ throats. We take time off to get physically and spiritually sound, then we get bored and take what we’ve learned from where we’ve been and we apply it to right now and we get busy with art and music, then we come and kick the living shit out of you. That’s what we do.”

Just as the trials of life can never kill a band with Slipknot’s fighting spirit, neither can you replace the irreplaceable; a fact that made the band’s decision to fight another day such a painful one. There from the beginning, Paul made such an invaluable contribution to every aspect of Slipknot’s music, methodology and rise to glory that the idea of someone else stepping into his jumpsuit and mask was simply unthinkable. But there are always ways a means to circumnavigate even the toughest problems, and so the news that Slipknot have recruited Donnie Steele, a member of a very early lineup of the band and a close friend and musical collaborator of Paul’s, to perform bass duties on these upcoming dates has removed a great deal of disquiet from conversations about the future.

“I’m glad you’re speaking with me today,” notes Joey. “You have called me on the first day that I play with my new bass player. I’m starting with Donnie tonight. I start working with him first and we have over 35 songs that we have to rehearse tonight! Ha ha ha! When we headline in the UK it’s gonna be a longer set, so we have to go over a bunch of stuff.”

What made you go with Donnie?

“It was an easy decision,” he says. “I don’t want to talk about my brother’s death, but once it happened, our phones all lit up with all these guys from other bands. I took it at a disrespect level. I was like, ‘No, no, no!’ and it just came to me one night. I woke up from a dream about the early Slipknot days, before it was even known as Slipknot. Donnie was our first guitar player. We only had one guitar player but we had three drummers. You couldn’t even hear the guitar before we hired Josh [Brainard, Slipknot guitarist from 1995-1999]. So I called Shawn and I said, ‘This is the only thing that makes sense…’ Slipknot is a family. It’s a brotherhood. When we started together, Donnie was there. The last time I saw Paul was when I was with Rob Zombie in Iowa; Donnie was there and he and Paul were writing a new record for [pre-Slipknot metal project] Body Pit. I said to Shawn, ‘He’s part of our family!’”

“The gentleman who’s filling in for Paul was very, very good friends with Paul,” Shawn adds. “They come from a school of death metal and black metal, both very technical players. Recently Paul had hooked up with him and they were finally going to do their side-project. Paul was a guitar player and he attacked the bass like he did the guitar, and that’s exactly what Donnie’s gonna do. So he’s bringing more integrity than any freakin’ person who ever thought they had a chance of playing bass in something as serious as Slipknot. I laughed in the face of anybody who thought they had a chance!”

There’s been a lot of speculation about whether Donnie will be performing alongside the rest of the band onstage or whether he will be behind the drum riser out of sight. Can you confirm or deny any of this?

“We still have to figure out what we wanna do,” says Joey. “Will he be behind me? Right now, yes. In the future, I don’t know. Right now, he’s behind me or right next to me and he’ll be watching my every move and I’ll be watching him but it’s not going to take away from my performance, because by the time we hit the stage it’s going to be easy.”

“I can’t predict the future, but I know right now there’s no new mask, no new coveralls, no new number,” says Shawn. “There’s eight guys on stage and the first guitar player we ever had filling in for Paul, because there’s always gonna be nine.”

Clearly there can be no upside to the loss of such a loved and respected figure, but the last year has at least enabled the music world to finally acknowledge Paul as the influential and inspirational creative dynamo buzzing tirelessly away at the heart of Slipknot. It has always been left primarily to Joey, Shawn and Corey to communicate with the press and although Paul was not averse to doing interviews, his relative anonymity within such a populous band meant that he was able to exert his vast influence on Slipknot’s music and ethos away from the media spotlight. Now, of course, it’s apparent that his death has left a chasm inside this band’s furious heart and that these forthcoming live performances present a huge emotional challenge to those who mourn him, both on the stage and in front of it. Joey and Shawn are clearly still coming to terms with the loss of their friend, both close to tears when his name inevitably comes up in our conversations. For Shawn in particular, Slipknot’s return to the stage is all about paying respects and doing what needs to be done.

“Slipknot is more dangerous now than ever and I have the fuel known as Paul Dedrick Gray in my blood,” he says. “I’ve been here from the beginning, when Paul recognized my ability as an artist and said, ‘Just do it, man! Let your thoughts out and don’t let anyone stop you from what you feel and what you think!’ So now I’ve got his blood boiling in my veins. I’m not just playing for Clown; I’m playing for him, for his wife and daughter, his legacy, his love for the band, his love for music. I’m not discrediting anybody. We wouldn’t be where we’re at without everybody. We wouldn’t be here without Corey, Sid, Jim, Craig, Mick, Chris, all of us. But in the beginning, there was this idea that was created by Paul and I. He wrote the kind of music with Joey that just made me want to put my face through glass. I helped start one of the biggest metal bands in the world and I’m not necessarily a metalhead. I’m an alternative dude or an indie dude, whatever the fuck that means. I was on my way to being like Andy Warhol or something! I gave it all up to be in this band called Slipknot and I love it and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Another major issue is whether or not Slipknot will ever make another studio album. Paul wrote a lot of the band’s music and was an integral part of the creative process on all four of their albums to date, but Slipknot have no shortage of creative brains to tap for fresh ideas. Corey added a dash of fuel to the fires of confusion when he stated recently that “there’s such a huge piece missing now, a piece that the fans can’t even understand. I mean, Paul always was that unconscious, almost lynchpin that held everything together. And he had such a great mind for the music that we created that without him, I don’t see it happening very soon, let’s put it that way.”

Given that it’s clear that at least one member of the band has doubts about the future, can fans truly be secure in the knowledge that their heroes will continue beyond these festival appearances and as far as a new album in the future?

“That’s the most important question you’ve asked so far,” says Joey. “We made this decision [to play shows this summer] out of respect for the music that we made and out of respect for our friend but mainly for our fans. Why would we not continue? It’s stupid to even think it. There are a lot of naysayers and all that shit. In the Slipknot world it’s blasphemy to say we might not continue.”

“Yes, I always knew we’d be back together,” insists Shawn. “Yes, I always thought we’d make another record. When? I don’t know. Is it being talked about? No, it is now. When would it ever be? I have no idea because I’m not a fortune teller, but in my heart of heart of hearts, and with Paul on my shoulder, kicking me in my face day after day, I absolutely believe there’ll be another record. How could there not be?”

Their unerring ability to sing from a single song sheet has been one of the biggest factors in Slipknot’s enduring appeal. From humble beginnings in Des Moines to their status as one of the biggest metal bands on the planet, these men prize collective focus above virtually anything else, and so it has been strange to see signs of hesitancy emerge in recent times. It’d be more than a little tacky to speculate whether Corey’s seemingly disruptive remarks about the future, and his bandmates’ self-evident but skilfully stifled testiness, are merely evidence that the grieving process affects different people in different ways, but it is also undeniably true that the internet age has made it more or less impossible for any high-profile rock band to conduct their affairs in private. The much-debated possibility that Corey is to be announced as Velvet Revolver’s new singer is a great example of this: what would normally be dismissed as idle gossip takes on a level of credibility far beyond what the known facts would seem to deserve. Social networking is the new grapevine, it seems, and Joey is not impressed.

“The internet can fuck off!” he barks. “I have an official MySpace and Facebook, but all that bullshit? I don’t use it. If you want to talk to me as a person, the internet is the worst thing possible. I do get it. Maybe it makes sense if you don’t have a life of your own. But that’s why i don’t use it. I have lovely people around me all the time and I’m blessed with everything I’ve been able to accomplish. I only have MySpace and Facebook to block people from imitating me. I don’t even have a Twitter account. But you know what? If I need to find where a good Mexican restaurant is, I can log on and find it. So the internet does have its uses, I guess! Ha ha!”

Bullshit and hyperbole will continue to make the world go round, but for now at least, all that remains is to get very, very excited indeed about seeing Slipknot again at Knebworth this summer. Anyone who witnessed the band tearing Download a collection of new arseholes in 2009 will be able to confirm that there are few bands more capable of commanding a festival headlining slot, and it goes without saying that the UK will welcome them back with open arms and pounding hearts, but our mounting excitement at the thought of Slipknot headlining a major UK festival again is undeniably tempered by a faint air of nervousness about the backdrop of grief and uncertainty that has coloured the band’s canvas over the last 12 months. One way or another, this is going to be extremely emotional, isn’t it?

“I don’t think any fan ever thought they were never gonna see Paul again,” says Shawn. “So it’s our duty to being it all together; when I walk on stage in tears, there’ll be 10,000 other people in tears with me and we’re going to celebrate in the salvation of music and what brings us together.”

“These gigs are not a job,” avows Joey. “This is more of a cleansing. All of us are going to have the most incredible shows of our career. That’s it. I’m not saying this to promote this. But this is going to be worth the wait. Of course there are gonna be teary eyes and maybe for some of us, behind the masks, but are they gonna be sad tears? No, they’ll be happy. We’re going to be there and we’re going to watch the audience explode and what better celebration could you ask for? That’s all it needs to be. Let’s just fucking rock!”

Slipknot play Sonisphere, July 8-10, 2011

“We’re gonna die for rock ‘n roll!”

Slipknot’s drummer was in Tokyo with his other band, Murderdolls, when the recent earthquake hit Japan, wreaking devastation and leading to many thousands of deaths. Here he recounts his experience for the first time…

“I was doing an interview and a photoshoot in this really rickety building when the quake started,” he recalls. “We’d already felt a smaller quake the day before, but when this one really hit it was throwing me against the walls. My tour manager Roger grabbed me saying, ‘Fuck this! We don’t need this…’ and he threw me over his shoulder and got me out of there! Everyone was trying to get out and we were the last band to leave Japan. We were like, ‘Fuck it!’ We were gonna stay and if we die, we’re gonna die for rock ‘n’ roll! That’s the Murderdolls’ mentality. We couldn’t get back to our hotel rooms because the elevators were completely fucked, so we went and stayed in the bar and got shitfaced. In the end we got evacuated. It was like, ‘If you want to make it back to the US, you need to go now otherwise you’re gonna be stuck here!’ So we finished our pints and got to the airport and, luckily, got on the airplane. Right after that is when the nuclear reactor was heating up. It was a big, intense experience. It was one for the books, I tell you…”

Shawn Crahan tells Hammer about his new band…

Black Dots Of Death

Describe your new band… “It’s a rebirth of Clown, a second coming, and it’s dangerous. It’s the next level. It’s a mix of many genres. I’m done making soft music and now I’m angry again and everything’s surrounded by death and the idea of ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ There’s a moral behind everything; it’s deep.”

What appeals to you about playing the drums? “I’ve played drums since I was eight years old, man. When you see me play drums, that’s the most personal me you’ll ever see. I don’t wear a mask. No one plays as hard as me, man.”

Do you have plans to take Black Dots Of Death out on the road? “The record is out now. Everything you need to know, you can find at www.theblackdotsofdeath.com. This is art, man, and it’s fuckin’ dangerous. But my biggest priority in 2011 is to get together with Slipknot. There will be Black Dots shows, but my biggest priority is to celebrate Paul’s life.”

Will he or won’t he?

The rumour mill has been working overtime as speculation mounts about Corey Taylor apparently becoming the new singer in Velvet Revolver. Or not. Here’s what’s been said so far…

“We recorded a bunch of songs with Corey. I think he’s fucking great – he’s the best voice of a new generation and I’d be proud to do anything with him.” [Duff McKagan, March 2011]

“He’s a guy we’ve had our eye on, but the timing wasn’t right. Weiland was available. He was out of Stone Temple Pilots. It wasn’t like we went and said, ‘Hey, dude…’ He came to us, like, ‘Hey, I’m out of my band. I’ve got time. Let’s do this.’ And it’s a similar situation with this individual.” [Sorum to billboard.com, December 2010]

“[The new singer is] a little younger, a little stronger, a little heavier rock’n’roll than we are.” [Sorum to Noisecreep, December 2010]

“A couple of people have said one thing or another, but it’s been blown out of proportion. I’ve made no comment on that one.” [Slash, February 2011]

“It’s gonna be interesting going into the third record because we’re gonna have a whole different personality as a vocalist. Chances are it’s gonna be a lot heavier than anything Velvet Revolver has done so far.” [Sorum to artistdirect.com, January 2011]

“As soon as we got off the road from the last tour and parted ways with [singer] Scott [Weiland], we got together and wrote half a dozen really great, sort of heavy metal pieces of music. It’s a lot heavier than what Velvet Revolver has put out [in the past], so I’m dying to put out the quintessential Velvet Revolver record.” [Slash to MTV News, June 2010]

“To be continued! Ha ha ha!” [Corey Taylor to billboard.com after being asked directly about whether or not he is joining Velvet Revolver, January 2011]

[specialinterestshows]

Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic: now with more relationship drama! Featuring bi!DomDom.

Warnings for this section: slut-shaming/whorephobic comment in Spanish, tickling, mention of stoner paraphernalia

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Absolute Smokeshow (Part 4/?): The Judgement Gay

The drive back was much like the drive to the store; Rhea chose the music, boots up on the dashboard despite your protests, windows down, and you would make fun of some of the more intense songs she insisted on raising the volume for, headbanging vigorously in her direction at red lights. There was a lot of her shoving you and yelling “fuck off.” You seemed to have tuned in very quickly to just the right level of joking around to avoid getting a firsthand look at her brutality. All the better for you, as you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to stand a chance. Even though you’d tried to stop yourself from staring this morning when she was doing stretches, push-ups, and the like, you couldn’t help but sneak a few looks. Taking in her rippling muscles, amazing curves, and confident form was distracting enough to have caused you to make a few spills when you were making breakfast. Just remembering what she looked like when her midriff peeked out from under her shirt made you bite your lip as you turned on to the street for your apartment, lowering the volume of the music to avoid complaints from your neighbors.

“Motherfucker,” Rhea groaned under her breath; then louder, “Some shit might go down. Whatever you do, stay behind me.”

Trying to appear calm, you see what she means as you pull into your parking space. Several yards away, a man dressed in black and purple is pacing in front of your building, looking at his phone, then scanning the surrounding area. How did he know to find her here?

“Let me get out first,” Rhea orders as you roll up the windows and park the car. As soon as you remove the key from the ignition, the passenger’s side door pops open. By the time you’re opening the driver’s side door, Rhea has slammed the other door shut and is striding angrily in the direction of Dominik Mysterio. Closing the door, you hesitate, thinking of your purchase in the trunk. Locking the car, you decide that a large glass object is the last thing you want near two angry wrestlers and try to catch up with Rhea.

“I left it to charge! What are you doing tracking my phone anyway?” you heard Rhea snarl, her back turned to you. Your movements become more careful and calculated the closer you get to the two, your hand firmly gripping the pepper spray that hung off your keys.

“I was WORRIED about you!” Dominik yells back, “You hung up on me without telling me where you were, or who you were with!” Then, noticing you standing timidly several feet behind Rhea, he snaps, “Nothing to see here, keep walking.”

“DON’T talk to her like that,” Rhea steps to the side, blocking Dominik’s view of you. He takes in her protective stance and looks her in the eyes, “Oooh, I see. You found some perrita and she doesn’t want you talking to me.” He puts a hand on Rhea’s shoulder - moving with the intent to walk toward you - and she immediately grabs his arm. Her knuckles turn white as her grip tightens and Dominik’s tough-guy demeanor falters, a slight wince creeping up on his face.

“Leave. Her. Out of it.” Rhea warns in a dangerous tone. She moves Dominik’s hand off her shoulder and releases his arm. He steps back, rubbing the sore spot and inhaling sharply.

“Look, Dom,” Rhea settled into a controlled, commanding tone, “we don’t have anyone to fight, intimidate, or otherwise challenge for a few more days. Give me another full day and I’ll meet you back at the hotel room. Then we can talk it out.”

Dominik seemed to relax a bit, sighing, “Mami, listen, that guy from last night-“

“Stop.” Rhea insisted, “One more day. Go.”

She watched him walk away and didn’t turn around until she seemed sure he was leaving.

“Hope you’re liking my company,” Rhea said, approaching you, “because it looks like you’re stuck with me for another 24 hours.”

“Damn,” you dramatically snap your fingers, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “taking you back to my apartment was a vital step in ditching you, and now you’ve found out.”

Rhea lunges at you playfully and you squeal the minute she grabs your sides.

“Wait,” a mischievous grin spreads across Rhea’s face, “Are you ticklish?”

Thinking quickly, you wriggle out of reach and make a beeline for the trunk of your car, giggling; she couldn’t tickle you if you were holding something fragile she just bought. It took only a few seconds for Rhea to catch up to you, relentlessly touching your sides, making you laugh loudly and squirm.

“Stop!” you manage to cry out, breathless. Moving her hands down to your hips, relenting on the tickling, Rhea laughs as you catch your breath. After a few seconds you realize her hands are still on your waist and look at her face, only a few inches away from yours. She’s already looking at you, blue eyes piercing through yours, black lips slightly parted. Heart pounding, you wonder if she’s waiting for you to make a move.

Suddenly, the air in front of you is empty; she’s taken your keys out of your pocket and is walking in the direction of the car.

“Come on,” Rhea calls behind her, “let’s try out your new piece.”

[end part four of ?]

Part 5: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/723568609784397824/absolute-smokeshow-part-5-stoner-i-hardly

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Tag list (thank you!)

@cherryberryshine

@littlemiss-fanficlover

[the-pinstriped-hood]

Fair Metal Friends

The house rattled again as the Novelist trekked to complete her work, fingers dancing gracefully over her keyboard. Unfortunately she couldn't get over the sound of some of the hard backed books stacked haphazardly on her bookshelves hitting the wooden floor with a chorus of loud thumps and Macavity trying to take refuge from the tremors. Ceasing her fingers as she stood hearing a slightly muted chorus of yet another Judas Priest song nearby. She knew exactly where it was coming from: Bo’s Garage.

Percy sighed. Her Southern Paramour was many things: Impossibly Handsome, a skilled mechanic, a talented photographer. Aware of how loud his music was not one of them. The bay of his shop was open and his music flooded almost the entire small town of Ambrose. Having been subjected to several songs and not by choice, she closed her laptop and saved her work before heading over to the shop to take care of the noise problem.

Her heels clicked down the street as she got closer to the problem, thankfully as another song was coming to an end. Spotting a friend of hers with Bo as they headbanged to another song, unaware of Percy who had pulled the plug to the stereo.

“Who the fuck-?!” Bo exclaimed as Percy was swinging the limp cord in her hand. “Percy? Darlin’ what the hell?”

“Your music is shaking the house, Bo. It's a little too loud, honey.” She walked over to the stereo system itself and turned the dial back a considerable amount before plugging it back in so as to not ruin her eardrums. “I understand that almost everyone in Ambrose likes heavy metal and I am outnumbered but may I please make a request that you be considerate, just a smidge?”

Ava, who had been hanging around Bo grinned. “Sorry about that Perc, we were just enjoying ourselves….” The guitarist had come to Ambrose only months after another friend of Percy’s, Ellie had.

“Be that as it may Avana,” Percy smiled. “I’m still working on my next book and need peace and quiet to conduct my thoughts.”

“Darlin’ you been’ workin on that book three days straight now, when’s the last time you took a break? The rest of us barely see you anymore and you’ve become reclusive again. Why don't you chill here with Ava and I? We’d welcome your company..” Bo grinned, certain he could win his writer over with his usual southern charms.

“Bo, you know how much this book means to me.” Percy’s smile faded into her usual tired expression. “I’ve gotta get back, I don't have any time for your headbanging hooliganry…” She turned her heel to walk out of the garage only to feel Bo’s hand around her wrist.

“Excuse me? Headbanging Hooliganry? You really did walk out of the fuckin’ 20’s didnt you? When was the last time you seriously had any fun?”

Percy closed her eyes. "You're really not going to let go of my wrist until I agree, will you?"

Bo's smile fell. He hadn't seen Percy in days he had been worried sick. Somewhere in his mind he thought he had done something to upset her, but it was just her usual workaholic ways.

"Please darlin' if you stay with Ava and I for just a little while, we promise to keep the music down. Deal?" Bo held out his hand. Percy agreed and shook his hand. "Deal."

Bo hadn't gotten a good look at his girlfriend but he knew she certainly had a rare style. Pantyhose, heels, a pencil skirt and an old style blouse. "You look good by the way, Angel." He kissed her cheek and she took the only other stool in the shop, tucking one leg behind her like a lady.

Ava nudged Percy, "You called us Hooligans. Where'd that talk come from?"

The Novelist blushed, embarrassed. "I sometimes let it slip that I lived with people from the 1920's."

"Certainly would explain your taste in vintage everything.." Bo mused.

"Parents?"

"My grandparents actually, parents died in a car accident when I was young. My Grandparents raised me on things like VHS tapes, reel to reels, old Jazz vinyls, black and white movies..." She listed off.

"So you never actually have experienced Rock and Roll before have you?" Ava leaned back staring at Percy. "That would explain a lot."

"My grandparents were really strict in raising me. Good grades, good job, wanted babies before they died. Old fashioned thinking. They thought that things like Rock and Roll, horror movies and sex before marriage was sinful so, I didn't have many friends. If any at all....They would be rolling in their graves if they knew what I had been up to..."

"You mean actually getting to be yourself and experiencing life?" Bo snorted. "No offense darlin' but your grandparents sound like the biggest wet fuckin blankets in the universe."

Ava hopped off her stool and turned the stereo back on. "I'm gonna agree with Bo, you really need to get out more. Hey what if we could help you find some music you like instead of what your grandparents told you to like?"

"You think you could do that?"

"Absolutely, Between Vinny, Bo, Ellie, Lester and I we could make you a whole mixtape to listen to!" Ava grinned patting Percy on the back.

"Are those heels ever easy to wear? While I will admit you look damn fine in them, maybe wear those cute little what'dya call'em.....Flats!"

Percy grimaced. She had been trying to hide the blisters on her heels for days now.

"Listen why dont you take your shoes off, relax and listen to some music with us. You need to unwind."

Percy nodded and took a seat in the car in the bay laying back in the backseat and letting Judas Priest sing her a lullaby.

Tag: @rottent33th @slaasherslut @allthingsblood @cries-in-latino

[sofiiel]

Ch.1 | From the Ashes

"Oh sure, yeah. We'll just pull the CIA up in the phone book."

------------------------------ MASTERLIST | NEXT | THEME -------------------------------

Your feet feel on fire, the same burn fills your lungs, but this air around you feel so much cleaner, warmer, sweeter. You're out, But your body hurts so much more than you ever remember, pain. You'd almost forgotten the hurt.

Your eyes strain in the dark and dust. It makes you sneeze.

Sirens caw in the surrounding echoes, people are screaming and crying in confusion. The raw essence of the emotions whirling around the chaos strikes you like stones.

You needed to get far away from this place, from this ruin. With eyes unadjusted to the new place, you make a run for it. Avoiding the bright red and blue flashing lights and scattered people.

The loud drumming of helicopter propellers is near deafening, causing you to clamp your hands firmly over your ears as you run for nearby trees.

"Keep running!" A voice chimed frantically in your head. "Move faster, he cannot see you." it said.

Sticks and rocks stabbed your bare feet, drawing more blood from fresh scars. Coming to a halt in the middle of an empty street, you try and catch your breath.

A gurgle sounds odd behind you, and before you can turn you're knocked to the ground, claws digging deep into your shoulders. "Stop it!" You shouted at the monster as it flared its mouth open, showing off rows of needle teeth.

You struggle beneath it, Headlights rounding the corner ahead of you. Your heart's racing, and you are too weak to keep the creature at bay. Your arms shake.

Laying your head back, you look up to see an on coming machine, it took your mind some time to remember what they were called. "Car." you exhaled.

Drawing up your strength, you closed your eyes and in an instant, you popped from under the creature and off to the side of the road. Laying on your stomach, you watched the large vehicle roll over your enemy, coming to a quick stop.

The laughter and merry headbanging in the green van flew into frantic shouting. "Please tell me that was a deer!" Gareth shouted, hands pulling at his hair. "I didn't see anything, maybe it was already roadkill." Jeff said.

Eddie's foot still pressed hard against the brake. His screaming stopped, but his wide eyes wavered as he watched his headlights light up the asphalt.

Knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel.

"What if it was somebody?" asked David. "Oh my god, they're mush, they'd have to be." Jeff said. "Uh, not helping, It likely wasn't a person." Gareth said.

"It could have been." Eddie murmured, looking at him.

"There wasn't a scream," Gareth said.

Drawing in a deep breath, Eddie freed himself from the seatbelt and opened the door. "You two stay here, Gareth, with me." Eddie said. Meeting Eddie around the driver's side, Gareth looked up at him with apprehension as the two carefully walked to the front of the van.

"Ugh," Gareth said, holding his stomach. He didn't want to look, but he could not steal his eyes away from the murky red mush seeping from under the van.

"What in the hell did we hit?" Eddie questioned, inching closer, but as the mush bubbled he jumped back with a yelp. Eddie and Gareth grabbed onto each other, "holy fuck!" Gareth shouted.

"Get in the van," Eddie said, giving Gareth a shove, "get back in the van!"

As Gareth moved to run, something shifted in the shadows of the roadside. His feet stopped moving, "what are you doing?" Eddie asked him, pausing mid-climb into the Van.

"There's something out there." Gareth said.

"What'd you guys see?" Jeff called.

Gareth looked over his shoulder to Eddie, beckoning him to follow, "Dude, come with me." he said. Eddie let out a fearful chuckle, "no way in hell man, come on. Let's go." No sooner had the words left Eddie's mouth, did the shadows shift once more.

Eddie fell silent, and his jaw clench tight. "This is stupid..." He exhaled as he slipped back out of the van. With tinny steps, he followed Gareth. "This is so incredibly stupid." He repeated. "Shhh," Gareth hushed. "I think it's hurt, maybe the mush wasn't what you hit, just....residue or somethin?" Gareth asked.

"Do you want to see what the thing looks like if that mush came from it?" Eddie asked back.

Gareth stopped and peered into the darkness, Eddie standing over his shoulder. The boys gasped and looked ot each other before rushing towards it. Faces pale.

"What do you think it is?" David asked, turning to Jeff. Jeff shrugged, he couldn't say, but their question was soon answered as Eddie and Gareth ran back to the car.

"Is that a person!" David shouted in panic.

"Oh shit, goddammit!" Eddie cursed out of breath. He carried the girl with his arms under hers, her beck and head propped onto his chest. Gareth shuffled backwards, carrying her feet. "D-did you hit her?" Jeff stammered, watching his friends try and get the girl into the back of the van. "Lower the seats for us." Gareth instructed.

David moved as quickly as he could to lower the seat.

Your vision was shaky, fading been the black curtain of unconsciousness and the blur that was left of the waking world. You could make out frantic faces, words swimming in slurs in your ears.

"Lay her down, and prop her head up."

"With what?"

"Anything!" a sharp voice shouted.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ, man. She's bleedin so much!"

"Hospital?"

"Look at those ears...and-"

You could hear screaming from each of the four voices. Looking down at your hand, you noticed your arm was nothing but a wisp of turning hues of red and blue, like a flickering mist of light.

"Everyone get in."

"But where are we going?"

Your vision and consciousness faded.

Eddie ran up the steps to his home, his hands trembled violently as he tried to get the key in the door. "Ran over a freaky alien ghost girl in the middle of the fucking night." He whispered, shaking his head. "And I can't get this stupid door open!" he raged.

Jeff and Gareth carried the girl up the steps, David close behind them. It was late at night and the boys could only hope no one was awake.

"Finally!" Eddie called out, swinging open the door and holding it there while the boys rushed in. "Take her to my room, we'll cover the bed and lay her there." He instructed.

Inside, David gathered some sheets, and tried his best to cover Eddie's mattress, tossing the blanket and pillows to the floor. Eddie looked around outside, no one seemed to be out or looking. Once he was sure it was clear, he rushed inside and locked the door behind him.

"She's in bad shape, man." Gareth said, Jeff rummaged through Eddie's cabinets around the home. "You got bandages or? A first aid kit?" He asked. Eddie pointed from his place in the small hall, "under the kitchen sink. But It won't do much." Eddie said.

Eddie rubbed his eyes, hoping that they were playing tricks on him. But as he stood over the injured girl, her body was still nothing but a ghostly array of colors.

David's lips were sucked in tight as he watched with terror on his face. "What is she?" he asked.

"Even her clothes are ghostly...." Gareth murmured.

"Wait, it's stopping." Eddie said quietly. The three boys hovered over the girl, watching in amazed fright as she became solid once more. Body riddled in open wounds and blistered burns.

"Was she in a fire?" Gareth asked.

Eddie shook his head and ran for the living room. He snatched the remote from his Uncle's favorite recliner and turned on the small TV. His fingers quickly flipping through the channels until he passed "Breaking News" in bold letters.

"The Star Court Mall as appeared to have caught fire tonight. An investigation is already underway. Reports say multiple persons have been injured and many are unaccounted for. Why they were there has yet to be disclosed. It appears to have been some sort of explosion-"

Eddie pressed his fist to his mouth as he watched the news. Behind him, Jeff stood quietly with the first aid box. "Do you think?" Jeff asked. Eddie nodded his head, "She's covered in burns and shit." Eddie said. Turning, he took the box from Jeff and headed back to his room.

"So who's gonna...you know," Gareth murmured as he looked away from the girl uncomfortably. "What?" David asked. "I mean she's can't stay in those clothes right?" Gareth asked.

"Oh god." Jeff exhaled. "They're soaked and singed. Something will get infected." Eddie muttered. "It's gonna take two of us," Gareth said.

"Rock paper scissors?" David questioned. The boys gathered in a circle.

"Alright, ready?" asked Jeff. The other nodded.

"Rock, Paper, Scissors - Shoot!"

"Damn it...." Eddie groaned, "Why's it always me." David whimpered.

Gareth released a long sigh of relief, "I would say I'm sorry, but, I'm not." he said. "Alright, you two out." Eddie instructed, pointing to his bedroom door. "Make sure Uncle Wayne isn't coming." He added.

"Let's be quick with this." Eddie sighed, rummaging through his drawers for pants and a shirt.

"Quick? Dude, I've never dressed anyone before." David complained. "You've dressed yourself." said Eddie. David rolled his eyes, "not the same, you know it." he hummed. "It's not gonna fit her well, if at all." Eddie sighed.

"A sheet then? Cut sleeves and shit and then just....tie it?" David asked. Eddie snapped his fingers, and pointed, "that might work."

"You cannot hide." A rumbling voice shook your mind.

Eyes flying open, you shit up, body instantly in protest at the quick movement. Calming yourself down, you find yourself in a room you don't recognize. It's dark, all the lights are out and several layers of sheets blocked the windows.

You tilt your head in confusion, letting your eyes scan the room. Your hands pull you forward as you crawl to the edge of the bed, leaning to peer over.

A sleep face comes into view, you remember it as one from the road. Leaning down more, you get a close look, nearly nose to nose. He twitches his nose as your breath tickles his skin.

Reaching out, you press a finger into his cheek to make sure he was real and not one of 'his' illusions. The warmth of the boy's skin and the way that the flesh bounced back into place with you drew away your finger was reassuring, He was real.

Panic began to settle, he was real.

You couldn't afford to be found, you couldn't go back.

The boy's eyes fluttered open, upon locking into yours and seeing how near you were where he screamed.

The shock from the sound made you tumbled off the bed. The two of you scrambling to get away from each other and wakening the room.

"Eddie?!" Jeff called, hoping to his feet, the three boys rushing to their friend.

You shuffle across the floor, scooting to back yourself up into a corner. Your heart's threatening to race from your chest. Eyes jumping from person to person. You didn't like hurting people, but then again, you didn't have the strength to attack if you wanted to.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just, hold on." Eddie spoke carefully. He slowly got to his feet, his eyes falling on you. "She's scared." He said.

"Right, guys. Let's give her some space." said the blonde. Your eyes watched him keenly as he took several steps back and the others copied.

You draw your knees to your chest, hugging them there.

"We won't hurt you, we swear." Eddie spoke up cautiously. Your eyes turned to him. Looking him up and down. "Were you in that fire at the mall?" He asked you.

You want to answer, but you can hardly remember what happened before running. When no answer came, the boys glanced at each other. "Maybe she hit her head?" the large boy asked.

"Maybe, or maybe she'd just wondering why she's sittin in some strange bed in the middle of the night. I'd be freaked out, too." Gareth said.

"Look we didn't do anything, I mean, David and Eddie, changed you because your clothes were ruined, and we needed to patch you up and-" The black boy ranted frantically as he looked between Eddie and the large boy.

"Honest, we didn't look much, and I didn't even want to." David confessed.

"How are you feeling? Is there anyone we can call?" Eddie asked.

You are quick to shake your head, "Don't call, I am fine. But... please." You plead. Eddie glanced at his friends, worried. "Ok," called the blonde. "We won't," Eddie said, daring to inch closer.

You pressed yourself further into the corner, and Eddie stopped. Slowly he stooped to your level at a distance, "We want to help." he said. "I'm Eddie, that's Jeff, David, and Gareth." He explained, pointing out his friends.

You examined them each carefully, "they don't look bad." You think. "But when do things every look as they should?" You mind questioned.

"She doesn't trust us." David said quietly, "would you?" Jeff asked.

Eddie tapped the side of his head, where his ears were hidden unto a mop of hair. "Your ears, they're pretty pointy, aren't they." He said, "You did this uh...kind of glowy ghost thing," Eddie rested his arms on his knees as his eyes looked into yours.

It wasn't often people could hold your gaze, only two succeeded before without looking away. "What are you?" He asked.

"I don't know." Your answer came in a whisper.

"Well, we're considered the local freaks so, you're probably in good hands." said Jeff.

"Probably?" Gareth asked. "That's not going to make her feel better."

You coughed lightly, "would you like some water?" Eddie asked. You bit your lip, "Do I trust them?" You wondered before giving a feeble nod. "I got it." David said, moving to leave the room.

Gareth sat in Eddie's chair, his arms folded over the back rest to support his chin as he watched you. Jeff and Davis each sat on the bed, eyes curiously stuck to you as well.

You quietly sipped the cold water from the ball jar, eyes focused on the ice bobbing inside. Ignoring the bemused gazes around you.

"She really likes water." Jeff pointed out. "Five glasses, how is she not burst yet." Gareth exhaled, baffled.

Eddie frowned, "If you were caught in a fire, you'd want all the water in the world too, right?" He asked his friends.

Your eyes snapped up towards them. "Sorry. Have I....had too much?" You asked timidly. You stopped sipping from the jar and hesitantly held it out. To be honest, you didn't want to give it up. Your body felt a blaze and the cold water was soothing.

"Did you want some too?" You asked, looking across each of their faces. "Idiot, you made her feel bad." David snapped. "I didn't mean to! I was just sayin..." Gareth nearly shouted.

"Don't mind these morons, They're just freaked out." Eddie said, turning to you from his spot on the floor. He offered a slight smile, "If they wanted some there's plenty, and they can just as well get their own. That's yours, drink up." He said.

You blinked a few times, but gladly drew back your hand and continued to sip.

"So, do you have a name?" Eddie asked you.

Quietly, you extended your arm, turning it to expose your wrist.

Eddie looked at his friends before leaning forward and craning his next to read the small set of numbers on your skin. "Seven?" He asked, brows knotted in confusion beneath his bangs.

Eddie smirked, "double O Seven? Huh?" He teased. Though it flew over your head. "Just seven." you said.

"No, he meant like in Dr. No." David said.

Your blank stare told him you knew nothing of it. "You don't know about James Bond?" Jeff asked carefully. You shake your head and the boys share glances.

"Your name can't be Seven, do you have another name? Like I dunno Katie, Sue, Norma...like that?" Gareth asked.

You turned to him after thinking for some time, "Y/n" You said.

"Y/n?" Eddie repeated, you turned to him and nod. "I think so." You answered. "You don't remember a lot, huh?" He asked. Peering down into your glass, you listen to the ice softly crackle. Memories of a dark cold world came to mind, you could almost feel the vines wrap around your ankles trying to hold you like a cage.

Your body shuddered, "I was in the there too long, It eats the parts you wish to remember the most. The hurt makes them stronger, but it's the 'self' part they want." You murmured.

The room fell silent, "what did she just say?" Gareth finally spoke up.

The boys simply shook their heads.

You released a long yawn, mouth opening wide. "You tired? You can rest here in the bed, we can sleep in the living room." Eddie offered.

"I didn't use to need sleep." You murmured with a frown. "What's happening?" you whispered.

"You don't sleep?" Jeff asked. You shook your head.

"Come on, guys, everyone out." Eddie said, getting to his feet. He walked to the bedroom door and stood in the entry. The other boys followed, and Eddie let them pass him.

"You can rest. Alright, we'll figure out what happened to you in the morning." He spoke carefully. Looking him over one more time, you relaxed a little. His face didn't seem dangerous, and the energy around him felt softer than those you'd been around previously.

You gave him a nod.

"He's afraid of you, too." You thought.

"Thank you." You said. Eddie paused on his way out of the room but offered a smile, "yeah, the least I can do after nearly or possibly running you down in the street." He said.

"Not me, the monster." you said.

Eddie turned to you, "monster?" He asked.

"You thought it was mush." You said in a yawn, staggering to your feet and hobbling to the bed. Eddie said nothing, and quietly closed the door as you crawled onto the mattress and closed your eyes.

The boys stood rigidly in the kitchen, when Eddie came running back inside, having stepped out to his van. In his hands was his DnD binder. "Got it," He said quietly.

Joining his friends in the small kitchen, he cracked open the binder and pulled out a handbook. "She's obviously not of this world." Eddie murmured, flipping through its pages.

"What are you thinking? Because I'm thinking we caught an alien." Gareth said, leaning against the counter top.

"She doesn't look like one though, and those years." sand David, creating points at the tips of his own ears my pulling the skin. "Maybe all those fantasy writers were actually onto something, We could have found Hawkins Big foot, or Nessie." Jeff said.

"Hawkins Elf? Or Fairy or something?" Gareth asked.

"I don't think so, not going all see through and colorful like that." David murmured.

"Shit." Eddie sighed, pulling his face away from the book. He gave his head a slight shake, "she doesn't fit the description for any specific thing. Then again...it is just a game, but it would have been nice to compare." he muttered.

"Maybe we should call somebody, the police or the FBI or...the CIA?" David asked.

Jeff rolled his eyes hard, "oh sure, yeah. We'll just pull the CIA up in the phone book." he snarked.

"Well, we can't keep her!" David nearly shouted.

"Shhhh, man, she's sleeping." Gareth said.

"She didn't want us to call anyone. I'd rather not piss off the ghostly girl, please." Eddie reasoned. "Besides, this is our find. They'd only lock her up in some tank, full of weird colored water and run tests on her for the rest of her life." he added.

"She's already terrified." Gareth jumped in.

"So can we be agreed, we keep quiet about this?" asked Eddie.

Jeff rubbed the top of his head in frustration, "I mean, I'm pretty terrified too." He said.

"What are you going to tell your Uncle Wayne?" David asked.

Eddie puffed out air from his nose and looked between them. "I don't know, probably just...that I brought a girl home." He said. "And that's going to work?" Gareth asked. Eddie shrugged, "I mean it's a fifty-fifty shot, so...it might." he said.

"And if it doesn't?" David asked.

"We saved her from the fire, she didn't want to go to a hospital because she was scared." Eddie said. He pointed at his friends, "But you tell no one else about this." He warned.

"Who would believe us?" asked Jeff.

------------------------------------ MASTERLIST | NEXT -------------------------------------

[talentforlying]

@whcwashe: ♬ ♬ !!!! — SONGS I LOVE

when the lights go out - oingo boingo! if y'all haven't discovered danny elfman's band yet, i'm begging you to get on that shit, because they have nothing but bangers on their discography. this is one of my ALL-TIME favorites and one of the first songs i ever covered with my band!! it's very beast of eden arc to me, specifically staring at the wall pt.3-5 (hellblazer #191-193) where the whole world's gone absolutely batshit, and the whole vibe of the song just smacks of frusin-art-style constantine: ominous, darkly amused, perpetually in a half-shadow, reflective cat's eyes, and a diabolical grin.

hey! let's turn the night into day! / let's start a fire in an alley way! / let's all go crazy by & by / and let's all pray to the cat's eye! just common folks like you and me / turn into mobs that get so crazy / prowl the streets like cats / out for the hunt / breaking all the windows just because it's fun / just because it's fun, just because it's fun!

i come with knives - IAMX! this one's been on the playlist since the way back beginning of this blog! it's sick as hell, it's one of my car ride headbangers, and it's a very frank insight into what constantine is like: he doesn't promise anything about himself. he doesn't pretend to care unless it suits him. he doesn't commit to anything he knows he won't uphold. he is openly dishonest and stubborn and a liar and a bastard, and he doesn't hold any of that back. it's all there on the surface if people want to look for it, not his fault that the rest of his charming exterior (rolling my eyes) distracts from the truth of him.

the monotony / and the rising tide / is under my skin, is crawling inside / adrenaline to rewire my mind / i'm only human, i come with knives / i never promised you an open heart or charity / i never wanted to abuse your imagination / i come with knives / i come with knives / and agony / to love you

+ 2 songs for liv: daughter of god - phemiec always hits me hard when i think about liv. the lyrics very much feel like they follow her journey of trying to reconcile with her new life and all she's learned about her father and her fate and her abilities.

doubt’s an elastic that snaps where you grasp it / with idle hands clasped on your wrist just as sharp as a kiss / on the scar where you carved out her name / or a line that is straight and confined to your fate love is a place where the tide always rises, the ink never dries (and it’s alright) / love is a place where you see with your heart and fly with your eyes (and it’s alright) / love is a place where your innocence goes when it dies

starchild - ghost quartet is another one of my absolute favorite songs of all time, just this absolutely beautiful piece that also lines up with the idea of a fate you didn't ask for, but this time it has a tragic and weary determination to make the best of it that feels very liv to me. i fucking adore this song, frankly.

when i was a baby, i was blessed by a stranger / in waters I didn't understand / and now i'm infected with disbelief and blasphemy / i'll never have a holy land / i am a ghost in the eyes of my god nothing i see is here anymore / but i will transcend / and vomit this loser out of me / i will become the next big thing / i will light myself on fire / it's time to get out of bed / and be the starchild i can be

[wammygiveaway]

Hip-Hop-Tober: Dem Boyz

Artist: GIT f/ T-Weaponz, Shamrock, Trae Album: T-Weaponz - Just Begun / Dem Boyz 12" Song: Dem Boyz (Remix)

Disclaimer: this verse contains violent rhetoric.

Wammy's Verse (Listen)

I got a motherfuckin' bone to pick with The blow's a sick wit, the flow's a liquid You got a lot of balls to be going against it I rip the lipstick, from off the dipstick I'm lyrically charged than a battery dud Fuck around with Dub, that's a .44 stud When I roam through ya zone, in a 20-inch chrome I'm coming home for the dome and the throne I'm a do it every time I put a pen to the pad Motherfuckers soft as cotton and it's making me mad Candelabra on the table, and it's making me sad Lighten up, it's time you lovers got a kick in the nads Ema should've shut up with his gift of the gab Not another word, I'm a lift up a jab Spit it with the quickness of the fitness, when I'm in this, I'm in this Administer this 'til he packing the bags Coming from the west where we wreck the reckless Running with the rest where we rest the restless Pull up in a Lex, then we hit the Lexus Put 'em in the decks with the necks and necklace Purpose for the pump be to bump defenses Better make 'em jump or you jump the fences Wammy gonna give it hard as ever while you sever your center To makin' cents, but you making senseless

Fresh off their bilingual breakthrough banger "Mira Mira" from 2004, the triumvirate T-Weaponz went from teaching Spanish to territorial toughness with the hard hittin' headbanger "Dem Boyz." Released sometime in 2006, it's a heart-pounding bass-thumping street screwing cipher that east coast producer GIT Beats laced up beautifully, and is one of my favorite beats in all of rap music. It really does pull you in the minute you push play in your CD or cassette deck, like walking into a fight club and knowing your ass is gonna get handed to you if you're not knowin' your way around the ring.

Fans of the Latin Hip Hop network Pocos Pero Locos might be familiar with "Dem Boyz" because it was aired there first, but in a completely different version. The third verse was originally an IzReal solo which started with "I know my momma know" and finished off with different variations and uses of the word "supplies," which I thought was an absolutely awesome closing delivery from him. When "Dem Boyz" was re-released, it underwent a few changes:

The song now had four verses instead of three

IzReal's solo verse was replaced with a different one, this time sharing duties with Psalmz (who did not appear in the original)

To fit with the chorus's theme ("Don't go messin' with them boys from the south, from the south"), they brought in Texas rap legend Trae Tha Truth

In short, it's a remix. And it's this version that was used for coming up with the verse you see above. But I really wanted to hit it hard, portray the west side as one of the hardest in the region you didn't wanna go messing around with. Not only was it hard, it had to be fast and swift, so the approach ended up becoming a triple cadence affair, veering into Bone Thugs-N-Harmony territory. Let me tell you, it is not easy spitting fast; from my personal experience, the chances of fumbling a consonant or word increases heavily when you speed up the flow, especially for someone going toward 40 with a growing speech impediment. Even a few of the lines I originally wrote had to be changed for the betterment of my mouth.

The line "Fuck around with Dub, that's a .44 stud" comes from a scene in the 1992 martial arts comedy film 3 Ninjas. As they're heading home from their summer training, Grandpa's kids Rocky, Colt and Tum-Tum sing a bloody graphic rendition of "On Top Of Old Smokey." The ".44 stud" part in their camp ode was gold to me that I had to throw it in, but I needed to find a rhyme couplet for "stud;" all I had at the time was dud, as in battery dud. To say I was lyrically charged than a battery dud has to be one of the weirdest oxymorons I have ever written. And to close this topic off on a strange note, yes, .44 studs do exists, but they're used for welding.

Personally, I am very proud of this verse. The rhymes galore, the little puns here and there, the speedy flow, all this while trying to keep a straight face. It's very difficult to recite this in more ways than one, even now for me, but once you nail it down to a tee, you feel fully accomplished.

What Does Ema Mean? You're gonna see this word used a lot in my old verses. This was my attempt at trying to write Mexican-American in a short handed way. The consonant letter "M" has an English pronunciation while the vowel letter "A" (as in "ahhh") remains en español. It may sound as if I'm calling out a person named Emma, as in "Emma Frost" from Marvel's X-Men, but it is absolutely not the case. Part of doing retrospectives is to go through both the good, the bad and the ugly in an objective view that reads more like a reckoning. At the time of its conception, I thought the word "ema" was a great replacement for the standout words "cholo," "vato" and "ese," a noun that had no ties to gangs whatsoever. There will be a post when I get to further assess the origins behind the word, but now is not the time.

[babybluebex]

is it weird that one of the hottest parts of the video of Joe meeting Metallica to me is that it looks like they gave him in-ear monitors when he was playing and it makes him look an actual proper musician and made me 🥵🥵 at the idea of actual rockstar musician joe

ugh rockstar joe is so special (yes this is a headcanon list deal with it) ((also let's suspend disbelief and say that he's in metallica bc YEAH THAT'S HOT))

rockstar!joe is one of those rockstars that doesn't look the part

like he doesn't have tattoos or piercings, he just looks like Some Guy

like if you passed him on the street, you'd never know that his band headlined lollapalooza lmao

"sorry to this man but idk who he is" type energy

he's one of the guitarists ofc

he's always noodling away on his guitar

if he has it in his hands, he's playing something, even if he's just playing random chords

holds his pick between his lips when he needs to do something with both hands

at home, he's always got jazz music playing

he's not an elitist at all, but he's definitely studied the history of rock and roll and where the roots of his music style come from, and he appreciates jazz music

always has it playing in the house and he'll like sing the guitar part he would put it

he does that a lot

listening to a song on the radio and he goes "i'd put in a guitar line here, it would go like this" and sings it

now's a good time to say that he's a good singer

he's a little anxious about it, though, so he doesn't sing at concerts, stays pretty away from the mic

he only sings with you, when you're in the car or at home

he'll put on good music and dance with you and sing with you

he writes songs about you but he doesn't show them to anyone bc he doesn't think they'll work as like heavy metal/metallica songs

at home, he has a special room that has all of his guitars and amps and everything, and he spends a lot of time there working

sometimes he'll spend all day in his special little studio room, only coming out for dinner

"good day?' you ask and he nods "what did you work on?" "oh, you know, just working on some songs"

going to his concerts and they're stadium shows, and he likes having you by his side as much as possible

getting a VIP pass and hanging in the green room with joe and everyone in the band

james hetfield is 100% totally obsessed with you, loves calling you "the missus" even though you and joe aren't married

getting to stand offstage and watch soundcheck and joe keeps flashing silly faces at you

you make heart hands at him and you can see his grin and blush all the way from the wings

during concerts, joe performs pretty much like eddie, stanced up, headbanging his curls around as he focuses on playing

he's always losing picks bc he'll toss them into the crowd after like EVERY song

he gets special things printed on his picks like his initials or whatever and signs a bunch bc he KNOWS he's gonna be tossing them into the crowd

after shows, he is DRAINED and all sweaty and collapses into you all jokingly "hold me, i'm gonna pass out" but he's fine

but after show sex… oh my god

his adrenaline is high and he’s getting you in the hotel bed as quick as possible

he’ll be a little feral when fucking you after a concert, nipping at your neck as he ruts into you

can’t even undress all the way type fuck

but once he’s made sure you’ve cum like 3 times, he’s kissing you all sweet and telling you stories about what happened during the concert

“james was telling jokes over the monitors the entire time, did you see me laughing? i feel like you could see me laughing”

“i fucked up during master of puppets, my fingers just stopped working and i completely forgot it”

“i almost tripped at one point, did you see it?”

he’s just so excited to tell you all about it

golden retriever rockstar

yeah that’s all i’ve got rn

[hellfirehope]

𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠－ 𝐸.𝑀

♪𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐼𝐼 － 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢♪

Eddie Munson x Reader

Minors dni! By reading you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older. ⚠︎︎

Warnings: heavily suggestive material, swearing, driving recklessly (pls don’t do that🥺) best friends/fools in love, sexual tension, dash of angst, suggested masterbation

Idk, I’m still new at posting my fics and not really sure what all warnings to use, I’m sorry😭

ꨄ☠︎︎♪♫

Ok, so quick A/N- Murray is going to be Y/N’s stepdad. I know this sounds a little different but I haven’t seen this before and I think it will be hilarious for love-doctor (and regular little housewife) Murray to knock some sense into these fools. I’m going to go into the backstory for Y/N’s mother in the upcoming chapters, but all you need to know right now is that she passed away from substance abuse. I really hope that doesn’t trigger anyone- I just really wanted to write about the effects a parent like that can have on a child. You’re totally free to imagine she poofed into thin air lol! Also, let’s also pretend the spectacular Joan Jett and the Blackhearts released I hate myself for loving you in 1985 (when this takes place) instead of 1988. Just couldn’t resist using this awesome song. Ok, I’m done rambling- hope y’all enjoy 🫣

Eddie ruffled his young friend’s hair (much to Dustin’s fake dismay) and rushed out the building. He could still hear Dustin protesting (that kid was like a soapbox sometimes) but he wasn’t focused on anything but Y/N.

She seemed really upset. They had just been together, did something happen in the few minutes after he left?? God, why did he leave. He just had to relieve himself, had to close his eyes and imagine her breathtaking figure, breathy laugh, and mesmerizing (y/e/c) eyes. She might as well have been tattooed underneath his eyelids or ingrained in his brain.

His insecurity couldn’t help but take advantage of him in his worried state. No one upset her, she’s just realized her best friend is a disgusting horndog who can’t be in the same room with her without being a pervert. A little voice taunted him.

He wondered if she hadn’t realized yet-how? He had been able to keep it under wraps for a while. But as they got older, started changing…He couldn’t help but notice how she somehow got more breathtaking every time he saw her. He was constantly embarrassed and guilty about his feelings towards her, but still couldn’t bring his attention away from her eyes, her neck, her lips, her tits….Fuck. He was so screwed.

Despite his doubts, Eddie was nothing short of an gentleman. You rarely caught him staring. He had learned how to be subtle, after 4 years. If you did catch him, you chalked it up to hormones or his personality. Your naivety kept you from actually considering any other reason for him to gawk at you.

After searching the parking lot for an embarrassing amount of time, Eddie came to the realization you had left. Worried and confused, he hated the idea of having to wait until tonight to talk to you.

Eddie kept a brisk pace as he made his way to his trusted van, turning the keys in the ignition, and recklessly speeding out of the parking lot. A sane person may have falsely assumed he was just driving like that because he was worried about you, but that’s just Eddie .

As soon as he has started the van, loud music flooded his ears.

Eddie considers music best experienced loud. Blasting his music after school was great, but he always wished you were there to headbang with him.

♫

As you drove your black Jeep (1980 CJ-Laredo) home, you admired the surrounding scenery. It was fall, your favorite season. Orange and red leaves littered the streets and sidewalks, adding life and color to a normally boring suburb. Pumpkins and scarecrows were thoughtfully placed in almost every yard. The weather was perfect- you had to roll your windows down. Your right hand was gripping the wheel, your left was dangling outside the window, relishing in the crisp autumn air. Though you were confused about your earlier interaction with Eddie, you tried to focus on other things. It was a fruitless attempt. Does he know you’re embarrassingly obsessed with him? Did he still want to go to the concert? God you felt so pathetic, pining for him like an obsessive freak.

I hate myself for loving you began playing, and you turned the volume up.

I’m not getting jealous, don’t like looking like a clown

I think of you every night and day

You took my heart, and you took my pride away

I hate myself for loving you

Can’t break free from the things that you do

I wanna walk but I run back to you

That’s why I hate myself for loving you.

Rather fitting, you thought. More angry tears spilled down your face as you pulled into your driveway.

“Hey, kid, how was school?” Your step dad greeted you as you walked through the door.

“S’fine,” you unintentionally sniffled, “just tired. Going to get ready for a concert with Eds tonight. Is that ok?” You asked, already knowing his response. He adopted a pretty laid back parenting style, trusting you to make good decisions.

“Of course-go- have fun, you lovebirds!” Murray gushed.

You rolled your eyes and spun to face him. “Murray. You know me and Eds aren’t dating. We’re. Just. Friends! Do I need to learn a new language to get through to you??”

“Well you could always try Russian…” he offered jokingly.

“MURRAY. Seriously, are you trying to pimp me out or something?” you joked, lightheadedly.

Murray looked at you with mock horror, gasping dramatically.

“Listen- you are lucky enough to live under the same roof as a love genius-“

You bursted out laughing at this. “You are not a love genius!”

He chose to ignore your interruption and continue teasing you.

“If you don’t want to take advantage of my sage and WISE advice- that’s your loss! And poor Eddie’s.” He tutted.

You groaned, falling back to sit across from him on the couch.

“Eddie doesn’t like me like that.” you sighed matter-of-factly.

“And how do you know? Hmm?” He demanded.

“Uhhh…we’ve been friends for 4 years! I just know, Murray. And if he likes me so much why hasn’t he ever made a move?” You asked, embarrassed that you couldn’t help the last part coming out as more of a whine.

“Well…maybe he’s just as foolish as you, and thinks you would reject him.”

You grabbed a pillow to your left, and hit Murray with it.

“Hey!!! There’s nothing wrong with it- everyone’s a fool when they’re in love.”

“I’m not…in love.”

“Yeah, sure,” he raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“Listen, I know it’s hard. You don’t want to risk a good friendship. But think about it. You could tell him and if he feels the same -WHICH HE DOES- think about how much you have to gain.” He smiled, raising his glass of vodka.

It was 6:59 and you still weren’t ready for the concert. You had a terrible habit of doing this, retreating into your own mind while working or getting ready, leaving you with no concept of time.

You were wearing black jeans and a dark red shirt, one Eddie had made for you. It was “pre-released Corroded Coffin merchandise”, according to him. There was a sick illustration of a guitar on the front. It was obviously Eddie’s guitar- it was just too metal to mistake.

Underneath the crop top, you had a black and white striped long sleeve shirt, hoping it would help with the chill.

Precisely one minute later, Eddie was knocking on your door.

Shit, you thought.

You applied the last bit of makeup you had left, and hurried down the stairs to let him in.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you realized Murray had already let Eddie in. He almost always let you greet Eddie, trying not to embarrass you with his hyper-aware personality and lack of filter.

Ugh what is his game, you wondered.

You quickened your pace, joining Eddie and Murray by the door.

Eddie was mid-conversation with your step-dad as he took you in, quite literally forgetting how to speak for a moment. He was never rude to your step-dad, always trying to make sure he liked him. It was annoying, but cute.

But that damn shirt. Good behavior could no longer be promised when you wore that.

Eddie had made it for your birthday and was so thrilled to give it to you (he actually gave it to you a week before your birthday because he couldn’t wait to see your reaction).

Now that he’s seen it on you a few times, he’s regretted ever thinking to give you something that would give you so much power over him. Not that you needed any help with that.

His most prized possession was his guitar, and seeing you, the love of his life and the (non-living) other love of his life….he just melted.

“Ok, Murray. Stop bothering Eddie and let us get to our concert.”

“Oh you can’t stay for dinner?”Murray smirked and squinted at you.

Eddie took slight notice of the dynamic going on between you and your step-dad and (of course) had to play along. He smiled innocently and met your eyes. “Actually, Y/N, I’m sorry, but I got the time messed up. We actually have another hour before we have to be there…” Eddie admitted. Although he didn’t seem to upset. The wink and smirk didn’t help.

“Dinner it is!” Murray practically squealed. He headed into the kitchen, not waiting to hear your response.

You gritted your teeth. “Dinner it is.”

Sorry this was a bit of a filler. Also, the random spaces between paragraphs, no idea what’s going on there 🥲

Anyway, hope you enjoyed? Have a safe and lovely night, babes, and remember it’s ok to imagine Eddie railing you in a cemetery, that’s totally normal and I’m definitely not projecting ❦

Blessed be.

𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒

[madaboutmunson]

Jukebox Hero - (Part 1 of 11 of Let me call you Sweetheart)

Warnings for the entire story not just this chapter: Darkfic, out of character Eddie Munson, alternative universe, present day, Death, abuse (emotional, mental and physical, harassment, violence, torture, imprisonment, coersion, unrequited love, drugs, alcohol, illness, blood, gore, food disorder, mental illness, vampirism, hypnotism, weirdness, the upside down, bats, monsters

@riffcrusader

"Oh my god, and when the pyros went off as the solo kicked in", you air guitar and hum the solo at your drummer, Terry, aggressively.

Terry responds with his own epic air drum fill, "Are you kidding me? It was all about that 5-minute drum solo, man. Fucking Epic!!"

Your bassist, Jenna, and rhythm guitarist/lead singer Harley roll their eyes at one another, "It's about the whole ensemble, not just one individual!" Harley complains

"Exactly!" Jenna says, "You are always so right, my songstress angel," she says beaming at Harley

You run a little ahead of them and jump on top of a trash can, with your arms outstretched, "One day, that's gonna be us, you know. People surged forward just to breathe the same air as us. Singing our songs back at an unimaginable volume. My god, I need a cold shower just thinking about it." You say fanning yourself and jumping down in front of a headbanging Terry, and join in.

Jenna and Harley laugh, run in, barging into your sides, making your own tiny mosh pit, to nothing.

Terry raises his hands in the air in the form of two sets of devil horns.

"And that, my friends, is why we will annihilate the competition at the battle of the bands! Complete decimation. Absolute devastation." he roars. You absolutely radiate happiness around this band of misfits.

As you near your house, the joy steadily begins to leave you.

Jenna says, "Why don't you come and stay at ours tonight? We can all carry on the party at mine. No one is home". Her words say, let's party, her expression says, please don't go in there.

"I'd love to, but you know rules are rules. I have to get to the battle of the bands without being grounded," you say with a sheepish shrug.

You wave them goodbye as you put your keys in the door, taking a deep breath as you enter, trying to be as quiet as possible.

As the door creaks open, you roll your eyes, having forgotten to oil it earlier, rookie error!

The TV is blaring, so you offer up at an average volume "Hi", hoping to just slip past to the sanctuary of your room. But, unfortunately, it's an ad break, so they engage.

"Oh, the waster returns. How much money did you piss up the wall tonight for your precious band merch?" He slurs from his armchair without turning to look at you.

You close your eyes and remember to just be civil. It wasn't long until the battle of the bands. You could do this.

"I remembered what you said about it being a big waste of money, so I didn't buy anything tonight. Other than a bottle of water," you say in a neutral as possible tone.

Your Mom rears her head around at you and looks you over, "Must you dress like the great unwashed when you go out? Did any of the neighbours see you?"

You look down at your jeans and t-shirt combination and feel bad feelings start to descend. You know it's coming.

"Um, I don't think they did. I'll be sure to pick a better outfit next time," you say, smiling, in what you hope translates as apologetic.

It does not, apparently...

"You know what, we slave at work every day, so you never want for anything. We fill your wardrobe with wonderful clothing that most kids would kill to own. In return, you stroll around the streets, making a god damn mockery of our family" Your mother seethes at you.

The venom dripping from her words as she gets up from her seat and makes her way toward you.

"Look at your cousins, top of their classes, always look immaculate, perfect kids. But here we are, stuck with you. No matter what we try or give you, all you give us in return is disappointment. We didn't have anything like you have when we were growing up. So you'd do well to appreciate us a bit more around here and stop treating this place like a hotel!"

This was a tricky situation. You didn't know if they wanted a response or not, so you just looked down at the floor in shame and uttered simply, "I'm sorry".

"Speak up, you waste of space! At least have the decency to apologise sincerely. Bloody Ingrate." Your father yells from his armchair, sloppily topping up his whiskey.

"I'm sorry." You say a little louder, being careful of your tone, "I'll do better", you say, returning your gaze to the floor again.

"Get out of my sight." Your Mom says in disgust.

You nod and walk to your room. You flop down onto your bed.

They were right. You were very fortunate, you had everything anyone could wish for on paper, but all you really wanted was to be accepted for yourself. You'd tried being what your parents wanted, and it nearly drove you to breaking.

Perfection was a tough job for anyone. You sometimes wondered if that is why they were so unhappy, pretending to be people they weren't until they came home.

You kick off your shoes and open your closest, "There you are, my angel", you whisper to the guitar hanging in front of you, "I missed you. You would have loved it tonight."

You pick up your guitar from its stand. By musician standards, it wasn't the most incredible guitar in the world, but you had paid for it with the money you earned. So to you, it was everything.

A violin or grand piano you could have been given in a heartbeat, but not this.

In a way, your path to this beat-up, cherry-red, squire Stratocaster had been a welcome struggle.

If it wasn't for seeing this beauty in the 2nd hand store, you would never have applied for a job at Harrington's. If it wasn't for getting that job, you would never have met the rest of Unholy Angel. At that point, only Terry and Harley had any musical skills. Jenna and yourself had to learn on the fly.

For a few months, you used Harley's spare Epiphone to learn the basics from videos online, but then the pay packet finally came that meant you could go to the second-hand store and buy your angel.

They had hung in the window directly opposite your workplace, so your objective was never out of mind.

You remember running home with the guitar and amp in tow, plugging it in straight away, thrashing through some of the covers you'd been practising as a band.

Though there were a few teething issues, it wasn't long until it felt like the guitar was an extension of you, but more than that. It also was potentially a way out of this town if you could make it big.

You drape the strap around you, and it feels like home. You sit down in the closet and shut the doors that you padded with old towels, turn on the small lamp and play your angel into the night.

[minxxfur]

as absolutely zero of you know, i listen to a good amount of metal. sometimes i could use the good-old headbanger. what i find kind of depressing (as someone who has done theatre vocals for a solid third of his entire life and counting) is how little appreciation goes to metal vocalists.

those people are fucking BOLD. they risk their entire careers every time they step on that stage because if they scream the wrong way, there will be no more job for them.

it’s such a precise practice that requires a shit ton of research, learning, and effort to even pin down, let alone master. it’s more dangerous to learn than normal singing (even though all types are dangerous for your voice in some form, and i do consider metal vocals singing) because it’s so easy to fuck up.

those people have to preserve their voices and take care of them just like any other singer. they have to learn how to use proper diction just like everyone else. now, they have to do all that on top of literally screaming and growling, which is both insane and impressive.

several people believe that it takes no effort at all and is even unhealthy (which it is if done wrong, but that applies to literally every singing style so it doesn’t fucking matter), but genuinely, if you saw some normal guy on the street, he doesn’t listen or even care about metal, would he be able to do a great scream? no. absolutely fucking not. he wouldn’t be talking for the next week.

the general public’s dismissive or even offended nature towards metal vocals (more just metal in general, i genuinely believe it is the most difficult genre to execute) makes my fucking blood boil. it’s an art form that requires both talent and effort.

tl;dr metal vocalists deserve appreciation

[asirensrage]

there's a heaven above you (don't you cry) - Part 5

Rating: M Pairing: Lost Boys/OC Fandom: The Lost Boys Warnings: swearing, threats of violence Summary: The thing no one ever tells you about time travel is that you don’t have any control over where you end up or when you leave. It just happens. It also hurts like a bitch. Notes: This will be a poly pairing, so if you’re not into that, don’t read. previous/masterlist also on ao3

Part 5: Paradise City

She regretted her choice. David led the pack, but all the boys sped down the street, weaving in between each other and the other cars on the road. She clung tighter to David than she intended to. It only seemed to encourage him. It would have been one thing if she had a helmet, but all she could think about was the fact that if they crashed, they were dead at this speed.

She slapped her hand on David’s back when they finally stopped and she stumbled off. Paul was there to catch her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she hit him in the arm again.

“What’s wrong Darcy?” he asked, grinning slightly at her.

“You’re what’s wrong! You want to risk your life, that’s fine, but don’t do that shit when I’m with you!”

“We wouldn’t have let anything happen to you,” Paul said, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“You can’t promise that at 80mph.” She looked around. “Where are we?”

“San Jose!” Marko called out.

“Come on, babe,” Paul tried to steer her towards the building across the street. There were people mingling outside.

She pushed his arm off. “This better be what you promised.”

“All that and more,” David said as he lit a cigarette. He no longer looked amused though. Whatever. It wasn’t her problem he had to suffer the consequences of his actions.

“Well? Let’s go!”

---

It was the best experience she’s had since she got here. She didn’t have to worry about being hit on since the guys seemed to form a barricade around her. She stood out enough with her style and hair colour. There was no concern that someone would realize she came here alone. It wasn’t like anyone would look for her if anything happened to her.

It was strange seeing the band. They were so much younger than she remembered and she didn’t recognize all of them. It didn’t matter. They still sounded fucking amazing. It was worth being sent back in time just for this.

The guys didn’t hesitate to headbang with the music and while some of the songs were a little rough, they played several of her favourites. She got damn lucky. It was hell trying not to sing along though. She slipped up a few times, but it was loud enough that she doubted anyone heard her or even noticed. How could she not though when they played Sweet Child of Mine or and Don’t Cry?

---

Concerts left her feeling high. It was the energy of the place, of everyone dancing and singing. People came to concerts to have a good time and left slightly exhausted but feeling great. Or at least, she did. It didn't even matter that the only reason she was here was due to the bikers who had apparently been following her around. She had to hand it to them, this went a long way to winning her over.

Paul shoved Marko as they left which led to him shoving back. Neither seemed concerned about the others around them. Dwayne stepped up next to her, keeping them from knocking her over.

“I’m starving,” she glanced around. “Any chance I can grab food before we head back?”

“Whatever you want babe,” Paul called out. “I could eat!” he started laughing until Marko shoved him again.

“What do you want Darcy?” David asked.

“The world,” she answered automatically. “For now though, I’m good with pizza.”

“Well boys, Darcy wants pizza.”

“Come on,” Dwayne motioned for her to lead the way. David fell into step on her other side and she heard Marko and Paul follow behind them. There was a line at the pizza place down the street but apparently, the bikers she was with didn’t believe in waiting. She was pushed ahead to the front, the protests from the other customers falling silent as the men looked at them. It was an unusual experience and she wasn’t entirely sure if she liked it or not. Being the centre of attention was..not uncommon but not exactly comfortable either.

She was shoved into a corner booth in between Marko and Paul while the others sat across from them. Paul threw an arm around her shoulders while Marko turned to face her slightly, his thigh pressing into hers.

“Um, what can I get you?”

Darcy looked up at the waitress. The woman glanced between them, shifting slightly as she held her notepad.

“What do you want, babe?” Marko asked.

“Can I just get a slice of like pepperoni, mushrooms and green peppers?”

“Make it a large,” David spoke up. “For the table.”

“Get us a round of cokes too,” Paul said. “Our girl likes it.” He turned and winked at her.

“Your girl?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. He just grinned back. “You wish.”

“You know it, babe.”

The waitress disappeared quickly and as Darcy looked around, she caught the other patrons casting them looks. She didn’t know if it was their clothes or hair or something else. Maybe they all felt the same thing she did when she’s under the men’s focus. Like prey facing a predator. After all, they weren’t the only ones that had come from the concert.

“How long you been in Santa Carla?” Marko asked. Paul lifted up a piece of her hair and seemed to be playing with it.

“Few weeks. You?”

“Feels like forever,” he answered. She caught David’s smirk while Paul laughed. “Where’d you come from? Before here?” Marko asked again.

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Just curious.”

“Just trying to get to know ya,” Paul teased. “How often do we meet time travellers?”

“Then you should know I can’t answer that,” she quipped back. If they wanted to play on her last excuse, she was going to take it. “Might mess with the future.”

“You don’t strike me as a type to care,” David cut in.

“I do if it affects me.”

The waitress appeared with a tray of drinks. She placed one down in front of everyone and gave a nod when Darcy thanked her. She scuttled away fast.

“Are you being purposefully rude or is that your natural state?” Darcy looked over the boys. They didn’t answer. David just gave another smirk, as if he was keeping a secret to himself. Paul laughed. She glanced around the restaurant again. A couple at the other table were glaring at them. She gave them the finger.

That made the guys laugh harder and Paul’s arm tightened around her shoulders. It was an odd feeling to be encouraged, that they didn’t just admonish her. She should have known better but she was far too used to people assuming the worst of her without any justification.

Something tapped on her forehead. She scowled automatically and shoved Paul away. “What?”

“Making sure you don’t get lost in there babe.”

“Jealous I’m not paying attention to you?”

“Always,” he grinned.

A hand touched her thigh, drawing her attention to Marko. “You never answered our question.”

“You never answered mine.”

He just grinned at her. “Which one?”

“Precisely.”

The waitress returned, placing a large pizza on the table. “Anything else?”

“We’re good,” Darcy waved her off. No need to stress the woman out sticking around with these men. Waitressing was a hard enough gig already.

She grabbed the slice in front of her and took a bite. It beat Boardwalk pizza and diner food by a mile. She ate faster than she intended. How long had it been since she ate today? Her need for...vengeance and then the excitement of the concert overrode her hunger. It all came rushing back as soon as she had food in front of her.

“That’s quite the appetite you have,” David said as she grabbed the second slice.

“Shove it, asshole,” she took a bite and continued as soon as she swallowed. “God forbid a girl eat instead of starving herself.”

“I like it,” Paul leaned forward and tried to nuzzle his face against hers. She reached up and shoved him away from her. “Gotta love a girl who’s soft.”

“If you even start that stupid more cushion phrase, I will stab you.” She still had the knife in her pocket. While she was boxed in, it wasn’t impossible, but she had to get home. If she stabbed them, they might leave her here. She was just tired of hearing that phrase. People said it like it was an excuse, like they had to justify their attraction.

“Maybe we like a bit of violence,” Paul grinned. “You can stab me anytime.”

She snorted, somehow unsurprised by his comments. “Thanks for the permission,” she said dryly. “You not eating?” A couple of them had taken slices after she got her first, but so far she was the only one really eating. Paul picked up his slice at her comment and started to shove it in his mouth.

“We’ll get something later,” David said with a smirk. “Enjoy the show?”

“It was great,” she took a sip of the coke in front of her. “How’d you find out about it?”

“How’d you know the lyrics?”

She froze. “What?”

“The lyrics, Darcy. How did you know them?” David leaned forward slightly, staring at her intently.

“Hmm?” she raised her eyebrows.

“You were singing.”

She shot a dark look towards Dwayne. “It’s not that difficult to figure out the tune or the chorus to a song once it gets going.”

“Maybe she knew them in the future,” Paul teased.

“I am a time traveller, after all,” she drawled. They laughed.

“Oh yeah? What am I like in the future?” Marko asked.

“How should I know? You think I came back in time to find you?” She took another sip of her drink.

“Like you can resist us,” Paul said.

“I’ll try to hold back.”

“Don’t,” David said. He leaned forward slightly over the table, staring her down. “No fun if you hold back.”

She swallowed tightly. The man was intense. All of them were when they wanted to be. She had never been told not to hold back though. That was interesting.

“Um, are you done?” The staredown was broken at the sound of a new voice. She looked up to see a busboy, offering to take the plates. He was looking at her, smiling hopefully.

“See something you like?” The guy turned at the sounds of David’s voice. The man across from her was glaring at the busboy.

“No?” The guy’s voice cracked as he said it.

“That sounds like a question. What do you think, boys?” David’s tone had gone dark. It was almost as though he was attempting to match the oppressive air they were good at creating.

“Knock it off,” Darcy cut in.

“Maybe he has an eye for beauty?” Marko suggested.

“Looked like he was looking at our girl,” Paul had a vicious grin.

“Enough!” Darcy grabbed the fork and slammed it on the table, inches from where David’s hand was. All of their eyes turned to her. She glared at them. “He didn’t do anything. It’s bad enough to be fucking working in a restaurant. They don’t need you harassing them.” David’s eyes darkened as she spoke. “I want to go home.”

“Darce,” Marko tried to reason with her. “We’re just having fun.”

“It’s not fun. Not for me and not for them. They get enough shit to deal with. We don’t need to add to it. Let’s pay and go.” She turned and shoved Paul until he moved. The men all followed. She stopped to throw some money down on the table.

“We got it, babe,” Paul said, wrapping his arm around her again. She shrugged him off and stormed out of the place.

She pulled out a cigarette and lit it, walking over to where their bikes were. She had little patience for people who were rude to those working in the service industry. It reminded her too much of being home and working as a waitress herself. The guys weren’t far behind. Paul cheered as they saw her. “You gonna ride with me?”

She kept smoking and waited, watching as they all climbed onto their bikes. She dropped the cigarette and stomped it out, twisting her foot to ensure it was done. She went straight to Marko. He had pissed her off the least so far.

He grinned widely as she straddled the bike behind him. “Alright, Darce?”

“If you take me anywhere else but home, I’m never fucking speaking to any of you ever again. Got it?”

He didn’t answer as David took off.

---

She half expected them to leave her at the boardwalk. Instead, as she leaned and rested her cheek against Marko’s back, they all pulled up at her motel. The drive back was still insane, though Marko seemed to remember her comments to David when they got to the concert and hadn’t done nearly as many death-defying leans near other cars.

She got off the bike and turned to face them. “Thanks. For the invite, the concert and the pizza. Despite the whole ending, I had a good time. And thanks for, y’know, not murdering me.”

The men looked between each other.

“Now why would we do that, Darcy?” David asked.

“Yeah, how often we gonna find a time traveller?” Paul grinned like he was in on some joke she wasn’t. Little did he know.

She glanced at each of them. Marko was leaning forward and grinning as he watched her. Paul was tapping on the front of his bike. David was pulling out a cigarette and Dwayne was watching her. She nodded to the latter. “Thanks for being my lookout.” He nodded back. “Alright, night boys.” She gave a wave and headed inside before they could try to convince her to do something else.

“Dream of us, babe!”

---

taglist: @raith-way @ocfairygodmother @lokitrasho @zeleniafic @jewelswrites-ish @tessasocs @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle @chickensarentcheap

[anne-white-star]

Band queen x reader depressed!reader: Don't do it

Please before you read this x reader

Here is a link to a post with phone numbers to difrent suicide hotlines please stay safe and alive and remember you are important and loved!!💗💗💗

Notes : reader is depressed after her parents broke up her grandma is on her death bed And her boyfriend cheated on her with an other girl. The Queen boys come acros her about to take her own life by jumping of a bridge (takes place in London at the tower bridge) this is just a story and is not acurate takes place during the early years of queen

Sorry for any spelling mistakes

Words: 1287

Warnings : cursing attempted suicide, depression fluff and comfort at the end

(Gif isnt mine)

"What do you mean you don't love me anymore?! Could't you have said that before you cheated on me, its already hard enough for me david, my parents are getting devorced and my grandma is on her death bed!!!!!!"

"Oh its hard for you y/n, don't you understand, im in love with someone els while being stuck with you."

"You fucking asshole, thats it get out i don't want to see your fucking face here ever again!"

"You can't kick me out"

"Yes i can who is the person who is paying for the roof above your head, me! Who is the person working two jobes?, me!, get the fuck out before i break something like your fucking arm!!!"

"You crazy bitch"

"Try me david i fucking dare you, now get out!!!"

"Fine but don't come back to me if you need somone"

Tears streamed down y/n her face "Oh dont worry about that" when david was finaly out the door she slamed it closed and broke down crying.

"Why can't life be easy for me, why everything at once why why why!!!" She stood up And walked to her desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and started to write

Dear person who finds this letter

As i write this its to mutch for me to continue on with my life with everything happening at once.

i don't really know how to get out of this situation other than ending it all.

if anyone finds this letter please let my family and Friends know i love them

Lots of love from

Y/n y/l/n

When she finished wrighting the paper was soaked by her tears, y/n stood up And placed the paper on the coffee table and walked out the front door down the street on her way to the tower bridge.

At the same moment at The Vault 1894 (its a pub near the tower bridge, its just for the story so its not acurate that they went here) a group of friends walked out on their way back home

"I personaly think the gig went extremly wel what about you Fred?"

"Oh darling we were amazing up there"

"My hands hurt a bit i guess i went a bit to hard on the guitar" Brian laught

Roger laught as wel "My head hurts a bit from headbanging to mutch"

"Lets get home for a drink darlings we deserved it" they started to walk over the bridge to the other side

Back to y/n, she had climed on the side of the bridge and stood there just looking over the water contemplating if she should do it or not, the tears started to fall again "im so sorry for failling everyone" and with that she jumped

But before she was to far down a hand shot out and grabed her over the side of the bridge "hold on don't let go!!" Looking up with a tear stained face she was met with four concerned faces looking down in her the man that was holding on to her had long blond hair that went to his shoulders. "Freddie please help?!"

The man called Freddie leaned over the side and grabed her by the back of her jacked "please let go of me im good for nothing please?!" She started to sob more

"Oh darling please let us help you please hold on" he put out his other hand y/n looked up at Freddie and grabed it, both Freddie and the blond man pulled her over the railing safely

"There you go are you alright?"

"It honestly could be better" she said softly with tears down her face while rubbing her arms

"Here take this" the man with the longer brown hair gave his jacked to her, y/n took it and put it over her shoulder

"Thank you" she rubbed her eyes

The man with the curly hair kneeld infront of her "Hey is it a good idea if we go somewhere els and not here it might do you better" he held out his hand for her to take

"A..alright Yes lets do that" she took his hand and stood up

"Iets go to our place for the night if thats alright with you?"

"Its fine with please lead the way" y/n said with a soft voice

The boys kept looking at her from time to time and Freddie hold her hand softly in his, when they arived at The hotel that they stayed the night. Once they arived at The door they let her go in first she went to sit on the coutch that stood in the cornor and pulled her legs up to her chin and hid her face

"I'll go and make some tea fred" said the tall curly man

"Alright Brian" said Freddie, the man called Brian went in to the kitchen to boil some tea

Freddie sat next to y/n on the coutch "now tell me dear what's your name'?"

"Y/n" came the muffled replie

"Well hello y/n, my name is Freddie Mercury, the man in the kitchen is Brian may the blond is roger taylor and the guy with the long brown hair is John deacon but you can call him deaky"

John sat down on the other side of the coutch and rubbed his arm over her back "would you mind telling is whats wrong y/n? What happend we want to help you"

She sniffed "wel i had a lot of crap comming over me the past few months, i have been sufering from depression for a few years now and the past few months its been really going down hill"

Brian came back in the room "here drink this it might help" he held out a cup of tea

"Thank you" she took the cup in her hands and smelled the sweet aroma of the tea

"Would you mind telling is more? If you don't want to thats fine"

She sighed "wel a lot of family problemes have been hapening, my parents are getting a divorce my grandma is on her death bed and my boyfriend cheated on me with an other girl, its just to mutch its al happening at the same time" the tears once again flowed down her face

"Oh dear come here" Freddie hugged her and held her close, she clinged to Freddie like he was going to disapear

"Thank you four so mutch i don't know you guys for that long but you made me feel a lot more welcome the past hour than people did the past year thank you" she dried her tears and sat up straight

"Please stay the night we don't think its a good idea For you to go home just yet" said roger

"thats fine, i don't mind sleeping on the coutch"

"Alright we get you some blankets and a pillow so that you can make yourself comfortabele"

"Thanks Brian i apriciate it"

Once everything was set and put up everyone started to get to get ready to go to bed

"If there is anything you need please wake us don't be afraid to do so alright? "

"Alright thanks deaky thank you all So mutch i can't thank you enough"

"Its nothig dear now go get some rest" Freddie gave her a kiss on the fourhead and all the boys went back to their rooms

"Good night you all"

"Good night y/n sweet dreams"

that night after a whole year of sleepless nights and nightmares y/n had finaly a good night of sleep, she was so extreemly thankfull that they saved her and made her feel welcome.

And then she knew that there was always somone looking out for her

The end

I hope you guys enjoyed reading

And please note that if you have depression or know somone who has it please talk to somone about it and get help you deserve to be happy and you are loved♥️♥️♥️

Please consider rebloging if you like the story and leaving a coment is alright to i would love to hear what you think 😊

thank you all for reading ♥️♥️♥️

[beomglocks]

sk8ter boi ; c.bg

summary : he was a boy, she was a girl. can i make it anymore obvious?

pairing : skaterboy!beomgyu x reader

warnings & other : reader already has a child with yeonjun ok, beomgyu still pining after all these years, based off queen avril lavigne’s sk8ter boi song, listen while reading if you want 

w/c : 2.1K (i may have gotten carried away)

"where'd you get that note and roses from?" your friend maria asks you when you get into class. you wipe away your smile quickly, already knowing who the mystery person was. "i don't know."

yeah, of course you knew. how could you not when the boy oh so clumsily shoved them in your locker while you were literally turning the corner. he tried to act like he wasn't doing anything but he was clearly caught. he tried to play it off in the best way possible and smooth talk his way into a conversation with you but you shut him down due to the bell ringing.

"oh- oh ok sure...yeah," beomgyu stumbled over his words, nervousness eating away at him with you being here. "yo gyu you coming? i just finished fixing my drum kit," his friend, jeongin, calls him over, interrupting your already over conversation.

"you should go...but thanks for whatever you just threw in my locker," you laugh. he nods hesitantly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "dude," jeongin now stands in your vicinity. he looks at you and beomgyu before pulling away his best friend to where the spare band room was.

"well open the letter, we wanna know who your little secret admirer is," maria says, leaning onto your desk. your other friends agree, eager to know who was pining over you. you laugh nervously before opening it. you're not sure how they'll react to finding out that it's beomgyu.

you see, you wouldn't exactly call yourself the prettiest girl in the school but hell it sure was close. almost everyone would compliment you every day even if it was something minor like a change in your nail color. you kind of prided yourself in that, not to gas yourself up or anything.

someone like beomgyu...well. he wasn't exactly the ideal guy, to put it simply. he was a skater boy, he hung out with the "simple boys" who skated and did music and hung out around the skate parks after school. he wasn't the scholar type like soobin or the athlete type like yeonjun, he was simple.

you liked simple but your friends didn't. they had preferences for people like soobin and yeonjun, not people like beomgyu. you could probably guess they felt like beomgyu was the bottom of the barrel, like a roach on their foot not worthy of their time.

you pull the letter out of the envelope. for some reason without even trying, you could smell his cologne all over it. you want to smile at the obvious try hard gesture but your friends don't allow it. "what the fuck is that smell, it's so strong," maria gags. you roll your eyes at her dramatics. "it doesn't smell that bad."

"yes the fuck it does," she retorts. "just see what it says." you read over the letter, smiling at certain parts where you could tell he'd done his research on the things you liked. "it's from beomgyu," you say when you finish the letter. you already knew this anyway but maria's eyes go wide and she suddenly snatches the letter from your grasp. "hey!"

"CHOI beomgyu?" she asks while she reads the letter herself. "yeah?" you confirm.

your other friends mumble amongst themselves and you can hear some snicker. "y/n you could do so much better. beomgyu is like a street rat or something. don't do that to yourself," she laughs like it's the funniest thing she's ever said. you don't think beomgyu's that bad but you also don't stand up for him, simply biting your lip as she continues.

"he barely comes to school and when he does all he does is sleep. he skates with those other weirdos and thinks he's gonna make it big with his shitty guitar playing- i mean have you heard him?" she rolls her eyes, throwing the letter back on your desk. "you should go out with yeonjun, i think yall would be a cute couple. the prettiest girl with the coolest guy, your babies would be so damn cute."

"babies?!" you laugh at her ridiculousness. "yes! have you seen choi yeonjun?" she sighs in content. "anyways, don't pay beomgyu any mind because he's not gonna make it in life. go for someone like yeonjun and please for the love of god throw that letter away!"

you never did throw the letter away. you sigh as you think back to your high school years. you had just found it hidden behind one of the closet drawers while you were looking for valkyrie's binkie. she was crying so much since her father had gone out for the day and you were stuck taking care of her, as always.

you wonder how beomgyu was doing. you both talked after the fact but fell off during college since he had gone off to do his own thing. you didn't know what that thing was but you were proud of him nonetheless. you finished high school, went to college, got a good paying job, and were now married with a kid. all at the young age of 21. the typical life, you figure.

you're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear your child crying in the next room. "shit," you mumble to yourself. you leave the letter in your drawer and head back to the living room with the binkie. "valkyrie~" you sing song.

she continues crying, not giving a fuck about your efforts to calm her. she was usually a bit of a daddy's girl. "val please stop crying," you exasperate. "daddy's not coming home until late today. cut me some slack babygirl."

you slip the binkie into her mouth but her shrill cries go right through it. "let me go see if you need a diaper change," you mutter.

before you can even get up from the couch you hear your phone ring from somewhere in the couch. "shit where did i put my phone?" you put valkyrie down to look for your phone but it stops ringing before you can begin searching. you wait for it to ring again you find it between the cracks of the couch.

"oh hey mari," you say in confusion. after high school ended, you and maria kind of fell off along with all your other popular friends. you still had that clout all throughout college given who you were dating but you kind of strayed away from her. you guys were still on speaking terms though but this call was odd since it had been months since the last time she called.

"GIRL-" she pauses for a moment, still as dramatic as ever. "what it is mari? val won't stop crying she needs attention," you sigh, looking over at your daughter. her cries had gotten softer but she was still grumpy about not being with her father.

"girl turn on your tv to MTV right now- like right now before you miss it!" she says hurriedly. "this better be good you know i dont watch those shows," you say into the phone. you place the phone between your ear and shoulder so you can hold valkyrie while watching whatever it was that maria wanted you to watch.

then you see it. "is that-?" you begin. "CHOI beomgyu! yes girl!" maria finishes your sentence. she's right. there he is, the boy you were just thinking about was on your tv screen. "he's famous?" you ask.

maria sucks her teeth, "apparently after high school and like a year or two of college, he dropped out to pursue a music career and i guess it worked out for him." you nod even though she can't see you. "he signed with a label and now he's in like some super fucking famous band, look at him," she continues.

you stare at your tv screen in silence, watching beomgyu have the time of his life on the MTV stage. he really did get good on his guitar. the camera pans to the drummer and your eyes go wide when you see jeongin. wow, they really stayed together this whole time.

"he's fine as hell," you admit. you hear maria cackle on the other side, "you said it, he looks so attractive playing guitar like that, look at his fingers."

"ok alright maria, i have a child right next to me," you say. she laughs again, "anyways, i got tickets to their next show. you wanna come with?"

you're not sure how you managed to convince yeonjun to stay home with the baby while you went out with maria to this concert, but you did it. he was skeptical of letting you go out with what you were wearing which is why you both argued before you eventually stormed out to go anyways.

when you met up with maria outside the venue she looked up and down with a knowing smile. "i thought that pussy belonged to mr. choi yeonjun? what're you all dressed up for?"

"dressed up?" all you were wearing was a black and white bandana for a top and tight leather pants and comfortable shoes. "do the pants really have to hug your ass like that though?" she jokingly slaps your butt and you glare at her. "that's what yeonjun said," you mumble to yourself.

the concert goes smoothly and you're glad you actually got to see beomgyu in person and playing guitar. one thing about choi beomgyu is that he will play guitar like it's his last day on earth. he plays with so much intensity that you almost feel bad for the guitar.

you could almost feel how the crowd's energy in this packed room transferred to the members. if it was even possible, they started to play with more vigor.

at some point, beomgyu was full on immersed in his own playing. his once fluffy hair was now soaked with sweat and covering his forehead and eyes. he kept headbanging along to the beat while skillfully moving his fingers along the strings of the guitar.

during the middle of one of their songs, beomgyu took the center stage for his guitar solo. it was a fast paced riff that just seemed to give the song more life. his head is down so that it's solely focused on the guitar but once he finished the hardest part of the riff he looked up smugly. the crowd went absolutely mad when beomgyu bit his lip during the rest of his solo.

you had to admit the boy had stage presence, you practically almost re-fell in love with him.

after the show, you and maria went to get refreshments at the nearby bar. beomgyu seemed to already be there talking to one of his members so you took this opportunity to speak with him. you wonder if he'll remember you after all these years but you take your chances.

"beomgyu!" you shout over the music that's playing in the background. he whips his head around to the sound of his name being called and smiles lightly when he sees you. when you get to him, he subtly looks you up and down, taking in your body and attire. "y/n is that you?" he says, his voice laced with something teasing.

"you remember me?" you ask him with a smile. "how could i forget a face like yours," he smiles, leaning back. you laugh and he smiles. "i just saw you on stage, i never thought you'd become this huge! congrats!"

he nods, "yeah, i always wanted to make it big you know." he trails off, looking over you again like he's entranced somehow. "so how's life? you still with-"

"yeonjun...yeah we um- we have a kid...now," you finish nervously. did he really have to bring yeonjun up right now. "a kid?" he says, surprised. "let me see."

you show him a selfie of you and valkyrie that you took at a time when she wasn't completely hating your existence and wanting to cuddle her father instead of you. he laughs and leans back once again, "she's cute like you, she definitely got her mom's features."

"yeah and she's got her dad's attitude," you say, mostly to yourself but beomgyu catches it. "oh yeah! i wanted to say, i really like that one song you played, uh- fairy?"

"fairy of shampoo? yeah we added our own little rock twist to it," he says. "you know the lyrics are actually about y-" your phone cuts him off and you apologize, turning away to answer it. "what is it yeonjun"

beomgyu sighs in frustration when he hears you say that. when you finish talking you turn back to him and he has his eyebrow raised in question. "looks like my fun is over," you laugh dryly. he nods in understanding, "before you go though, let me get your number so we can catch up sometime."

you agree, not wanting to pass up the chance to reconnect with your now famous friend.

"maybe we'll see each other around gyu," you smile, beginning to walk away.

he smiles at the old nickname, waving you off, "i sure hope so."

[transmascfrankiero]

all of mcr’s songs ranked out of ten based on whether or not you can strip to them:

romance: could work if you were going for a Super Melancholy smiths-esque vibe but overall too slow and pretty. 1/10

honey: headbanger soundtrack to showcase your revenge body to ur ex. bonus points for underlying ‘gonna murder shitty boyfriend’ context thanks to audition-inspired video. but slightly too angry to be seductive. 5/10

vampires: too goth, too many feelings. reminds me of pot dreads frank. would not work. 0/10

drowning lessons: this song is cursed and cannot be listened to in public unfortunately 0/10

sorrows: if u were going to do a strip routine while beating the shit out of someone for trying to stealing ur tip money this would be a gr8 choice 6/10

halos: it’s about blowing your own head off and taking too many pills to cope w/ wanting to die all the time. 0/10

turnstiles: please do not!!! strip!!! to a song!!! about 9/11!!!! what is wrong w/ you!!! -100000000/10

monroeville: if u were doing a private lil strip dance for your george a. romero-obsessed s.o. where u both cry over the idea of having to kill the other person b/c they turned into a zombie then sure??? but other than that no. .5/10

best day ever: ehhhhhh. too fast. kinda weird to get sexy to unless u have a hospital kink. 0/10

cubicles: wow the thought of doing a strip routine to a song about pining for ur coworker who doesn’t know u exist is too sad to even joke about -20/10

demolition lovers: it’s a long song but it’s got cool tempo changes for variety and if u got the stamina then go for it. 4/10

helena: so, like, i get it. it’s a bop. u could dance to this beat for sure. the costumes and color scheme from the video make for gr8 stage pictures and the dancing corpse lady is v pretty. i could understand why if u were doing an emo strip routine u would want to use helena. but please for the love of all that is holy do NOT strip to a song gerard way wrote about his dead grandmother okay i am BEGGING you -∞/10

give ‘em hell kid: FUCK YEAH YOU LOOK PRETTY WALKIN DOWN THE STREET IN THE BEST DAMN DRESS U OWN. 10/10

to the end: this would be a hilarious choice for a bachelor party ngl 7/10 for that alone

prison: absolutely you could strip to this song but u gotta COMMIT okay u gotta light something on fire onstage and challenge gender norms while screaming your head off 8/10 but only if ur not a coward

i’m not okay: it’s a bop, but can u strip to it? no. 0/10

ghost of you: mikey way did not die on a beach in fake normandy for u to strip to ghost of you. seek help -5/10

jetset life: dude this song like. actually works??? for a strip routine??? so long as you don’t actually listen to the words, from a musical perspective, u could totally strip to this 10/10

interlude: what kinda weird catholic shame kink do u need to have to strip to this song. also it’s too short and too pretty. -5/10 (unless ur into catholic shame idk)

venom: this would require such a high energy routine but if u can make being sweaty work then this is a gr8 choice 7/10

hang ‘em high: this is a BATSHIT INSANE choice for a strip routine but if u want to do it then PLEASE do. i like ur style. 8/10

deathwish: u can strip to this only if u introduce ur routine by dedicating it to everyone who ever said eyeliner on dudes was gay. 5/10

cemetery drive: i think not. 0/10

never told you: if u are a highly theatrical highly murderous stripper then yes definitely 7/10

desert song: this song is Way Too Beautiful to strip to sorry you can’t have it -300/10

the end.: the only sexy thing about this song is how good gerard’s voice sounds so no. 0/10

dead!: this is a bold fucking choice but u have to play your cards just right. high risk high reward but SO much to potentially get wrong 6/10

how i disappear: u could. but why. 2/10

sharpest lives: holy SHIT yes ABSOLUTELY u should strip to sharpest lives. the drama. the beat. the spy rock guitar that frank accidentally nailed. this is one of THE choicest options from their catalog. why aren’t u stripping to this right now 50000000/10

wttbp: cute idea but don’t actually 0/10

i don’t love you: again, a bold fucking choice. u could strip to this in an edgy, meta sort of way but it’s missing the trashy factor so it’d have to be part performance art and part strip routine. if ur into that then totally 5/10

house of wolves: i mean i would pay money to see someone strip to this song so 7/10

cancer: LMAO YIKES -2000000/10

mama: this would be GLORIOUS if u fully embraced the sheer insanity and went Bonkers in Fuckin Zonkers burlesque-show-in-hell w/ it. 100/10 but u gotta pound the floor wailing at some point

sleep: i’m conflicted on this one like on the one hand it’s a good tempo for stripping but on the other hand it’s a song about being cruel to ur loved ones in order to force distance between u and them b/c you’re terrified of them getting hurt and it being all your fault. so maybe don’t strip to this one actually 0/10

teenagers: a bop w/ a great beat and fun costume ideas from the video but two major drawbacks being 1. ur getting naked to a song about teenagers which is uhhhh sort of Inappropriate and 2. it’s kind of also about school shooters which is also Inappropriate to get naked to. 0/10

disenchanted: why would u want this. you sad fuck. idek what to say except if you want to strip to this song i’m crying on your behalf -100000000/10

famous last words: don’t????? don’t. Do Not. stop that. -12/10

blood: this is HILARIOUS omg please strip to blood 10/10

kill all your friends: sure?? no objections but it’s an odd choice. this goes for the demo too. 2/10

heaven help us: if u want to strip to this then you definitely just read unholyverse for the first time and while u are valid, Don’t 0/10

my way home is through you: not an especially sexy song but it’s fun!! you do you 3/10

astro zombies (cover): uhhhhhh it’s a no from me dawg. i’d be thinking about danzig, like, the whole time. 0/10

desolation row: sure but u gotta be willing to get punched in the face by the riot squad for maximum effect 4/10

common people (cover): just b/c gerard would strip to britpop doesn’t mean u can. 0/10

emily: NO!!!! -50000/10

party at the end of the world: nah. 0/10

not that kind of girl: literally please consider the subject matter of this song and rethink ur life choices. -10/10

all the angels: it’s a cool song but don’t strip to it that’s weird -2/10

jack the ripper: you and the person who wants to strip to astro zombies can go sit in the suicidegirls corner together how about that. 0/10

na na na: a banger!! strip away my friend 9/10

bulletproof heart: a good song but not a strip song 1/10

sing: sorry this song is [REDACTED] it gets no score

planetary (go!): you could try to strip to this but it’s such a classic four-on-the-floor that i think you’d end up just regular dancing to it and forget to be sexy so 4/10

the only hope for me is you: are you doing a strip tease for michael bay. stop. put ur shirt back on shia lebeouf 0/10

party poison: like this is a hilarious option and i support you but realistically it’s pretty fast for a strip song 3/10

save yourself, i’ll hold them back: this is a safe option. Too Safe. almost soulless. a person who’d strip to this would avoid eye contact the entire time and never smile and later when you went out for a smoke break you’d overhear them on the phone with their ex arguing over child support payments. 4/10

s/c/a/r/e/c/r/o/w: the more i think about it the more fun the idea of stripping to this becomes so i say go for it 6/10

summertime: i’m Certain that gerard would prefer if you didn’t -5/10

destroya: is this objectively the best mcr song to strip to? Absolutely. it’s got everything you could possibly want right down to built-in moans and fever dream drums. but the only person in the universe who Can Must and Should strip to this song is gerard. sorry them’s the breaks. ∞/10 but only if you’re gerard way

kids from yesterday: don’t. 0/10

vampire money: 100% yes you should strip to this. bonus points for stealth twilight references 1000000/10

we don’t need another song about california: do i like this song? yes. is it sexy? no. 0/10

black dragon fighting society: i can’t understand what the FUCK gerard is saying in this song AT ALL so i can’t recommend that u strip to it b/c i have no fucking idea what it’s ABOUT 0/10

f.t.w.w.w.: i mean. this song is about eating pussy. and robots that are built specifically to fuck. so yes you can strip to this but you gotta dress up like a pornbot 100/10

mastas of ravencroft: again i cannot understand most of the fucking words and the ones i do understand are something something RICKETY BONES RICKETY HANDS so like. probably not the one 0/10

boy division: i could go either way on this one like it’s really fast but it’s also about cocaine so??? 3/10

tomorrow’s money: while this song slaps overall violent nihilism does not a strip song make 1/10

ambulance: no. 0/10

gun.: antiwar messages are sexy but not the right kind for stripping 1/10

the world is ugly: PLEASE no. 0/10

the light behind your eyes: oh my god this is so DEPRESSING why would you want to strip to this who hurt you -2000000/10

kiss the ring: yes yes yes it’s got built-in audience participation conceit factor if u let ur audience kiss ur ring, totally works 10/10

make room!!!: again, slaps, but not a strip song 1/10

surrender the night: dude we talked about this!!! dying violently w/ ur loved ones is Not Sexy!!! 0/10

burn bright: i guess you could strip to this but again it’s Too Safe tread carefully 3/10

fake your death: i want frank iero to strip to this song so i can throw tomatoes at him for being a LYING SACK OF SHIT FOR TWO YEARS i’m not gonna rate this one but frank if ur out there i have a basket of slightly squishy heirloom tomatoes and i am COMING FOR YOU

[suca-loca]

slip of the tongue.

Pairing: Anxceit (Virgil/Janus)

Tags: Sympathetic!Janus, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: It was supposed to be a quick phone call. They found out Patton got a promotion - from a Facebook post of all things - so of course, they called to congratulate him. Had Damien known he’d end the call with “See you at Christmas, Dad” he would have just congratulated him in the comments.

Author’s Note: I completed this a week before Deceit’s name was revealed so... oops. That’s why he’s named Damien in this fic. Also, the Eleanor and Park book is kinda problematic. The quote I reference here really touched me during a hard time which is why I used it, although I do not recommend reading it because the representation is b l e g h .

————

“Holy shit.”

Damien hides his face in his hands.

“Holy. Shit.”

A sound eerily similar to that of a dying bear leaves Damien’s mouth.

Virgil laughs. He doesn’t even try to hide it. He explodes like a shaken Coca Cola can until he’s nothing but a mess of overflowing tears and fizzling out snorts.

Beside him on the couch, Damien grabs one of the pillows. “Oh, how I adore seeing you enjoy yourself over me acting like a fool,” he grumbles as he smacks it over Virgil’s head. “It really shows how great of a boyfriend you are.”

Virgil, unable to speak - because he’s currently bent over, clutching at his sides - responds with two middle fingers.

Damien reaches for the last remaining couch pillow.

“No!” Virgil somehow wheezes out, the terror in his voice terribly contrasting against the grin on his face. “I’ll stop! I’ll stop!”

Damien doesn’t believe him. He throws it without mercy.

He was right to see through Virgil’s lie because two minutes pass before Virgil finally gets it out of his system. All the while Damien waits at the opposite end of the couch, watching with a pout as his boyfriend begins to crawl towards him.

“That-“ Virgil wipes away one last tear from his eye - “was beautiful. Truly the greatest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life. I would love to see it on the big screen, looping for ten hours.”

Damien gives him a (totally real) disgusted look as a kiss is pressed against his cheek. “You are insufferable.”

“Is that why you made my pancakes this morning in the shape of hearts?”

“You’re totally right! Next time I won’t go through the trouble of making the pancakes into different shapes. I’ll just poison them.”

Virgil chuckles.

“Don’t you start again!” Damien groans, looking like he wants the couch to become quicksand and swallow him up. “I’ll get up and grab the pillows from the floor. Watch me.”

“Sorry,” Virgil says in a tone that is definitely not at all sorry. “It’s just...You just called my dad, Dad. That’s, like, better than when you said you loved me for the first time.”

It was supposed to be a quick phone call. They found out Patton got a promotion - from a Facebook post of all things - so of course, they called to congratulate him. Had Damien known he’d end the call with “See you at Christmas, Dad” he would have just congratulated him in the comments.

Damien watches in horror as he sees Virgil’s shoulders begin to shake as the memory comes back to him.

“It wasn’t a slip of the tongue if you consider the circumstances!” He cries out, desperately not wanting to sit through another one of Virgil’s cackling.

He only realizes what he said when Virgil’s dimples disappear and are replaced with a curious look.

“Oh?” Virgil coos, smirking in the same way that made Damien fall in love with him all those years ago. “Care to explain what these circumstances are, D?”

Damien fiddles with the hem of his pajama shirt. He’s blushing.

“Well,” he inhales sharply, suddenly acting so small and nervous in a way Virgil has never seen from him in the four years they’ve known each other. “I should get used to calling him dad since he’ll become my father-in-law.”

Virgil stills. “What?”

Deceit stands up, only to then drop to one knee.

Now it’s Virgil’s turn to inhale sharply.

“Virgil Hart,” Damien looks up at him with clear adoration and a voice oozing with love from just those two words, “Years ago, for some odd - and very stupid - reason you risked sitting in a jail cell for a guy you didn’t know.”

Virgil blushes, the day they met coming back to him in pieces. He remembers sneaking out of his college dorm room past curfew to join a protest. Remembers how the protest turned south as sirens could be heard ten blocks down. Remembers the adrenaline that passed through him as he chucked an egg at one of the cops who was in the middle of arresting some guy. Remembers the adrenaline being replaced with fear as the cop charged at him, only to then be pulled down the street by the same man he rescued.

Remembers the two of them hiding in a thrift shop that sold dildos and smelled too much like weed. Remembers learning the man’s name was Damien from the slip of paper handed to him with a phone number. Remembers getting caught sneaking back into his dorm room and not even caring as the principal shouted at him because he was too busy thinking about what a great runner Damien was. He also remembers thinking how great it was to run behind Damien.

“And now,” Damien says as he presses a kiss against Virgil’s hand, “because of your lack of control that day, we sit here in this apartment that we share. With plates still in the sink that is your turn to wash, with two cats I gifted Patton curled up on our beds because you never told me he was allergic and with the insides of my favorite sweaters smudged with black lipstick because no matter where I hide them you always find them,

But, I wouldn’t change it for the world. Which I now realize, given my moral compass, doesn’t say much, so let me rephrase; I wouldn’t change it even if it meant I had to delete all my eat the rich tweets. I didn’t realize it then, but I fell in love with you the moment I heard that egg crack against the cop's helmet. I only continued to fall more in love with you as you sent me memes past midnight and the way you scrunch up your face every time someone admits to never reading one of Edgar Allan Poe’s work. You are an inspiration to me and I hope that you remain only my inspiration. Which is why, Virgil Hart, I ask you today...”

Damien slips out a ring. It’s all black, except for the purple jewel at the center, decorated with petals curling to where the diamond sits.

“Will you marry me?”

Virgil blinks.

“There’s cheeto dust on the hoodie I’m wearing.”

Damien raises an eyebrow. “Excellent observation skills.”

“Our cats’ assholes combined are in a better state than my hair right now,” Virgil continues.

“Thank you for the mental image.”

“I gained ten pounds this week!”

“I was wondering why our cuddling sessions felt better.”

“I’m pretty sure my breath smells like Remus’ room.”

“I’m well aware. I kissed you good morning, remember?”

“Then why the fuck do you still have the ring out?!” Virgil huffs, pulling his hands away. He gestures to himself. “Do I look like a picture-worthy fiancé?”

Damien raises an eyebrow. “So what you’re saying is… I should propose after you’ve taken a shower?”

“No!”

Virgil yanks his hands away. He does it so hard Damien is surprised the other doesn’t send him flying backwards. His temper flares and his mouth snaps open to say something snarky, but it shuts when his eyes fall on the emo’s face.

Sad isn’t the right word to use. It’s devastation. Even with Virgil burying his face against the knees hugged to his chest Damien can see how hard his lips wobble and the way his eyes blink rapidly against the incoming of tears.

“Why can’t you see I’m not worthy to be a fiancé?” He croaks, voice going weaker towards the end. “Much less yours?”

Damien wastes no time cradling Virgil’s face in his hands. He rubs the pad of his thumb against Virgil’s left cheek, knowing it’ll help calm him down.

“Eleanor was right,” he begins, voice softer than the most expensive silk money could buy. “She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice. It was supposed to make you feel something.”

Virgil’s breath hitches. “Eleanor and Park, chapter 28, page 165. My favorite quote.”

Damien clicks his tongue. “And yet the message escapes you. You’re not stupid, mi vida. So stop acting like it. You’re too good to fall for society's expectations of beauty.”

Virgil looks ready to interject, but Damien keeps going.

“When I bought this ring it wasn’t because I thought every angle was your best angle. It wasn’t because you lack fewer fat rolls than other people. It was because of how you showed up at my door with my favorite movie and snacks after I got a bad grade on an exam. It’s because of how you headbang and jump around the living room every time I put The Crow soundtrack on when we clean.”

Damien brushes Virgil’s bangs to the side. He presses a kiss against his boyfriend’s forehead. Virgil is quiet through all of this.

“And most importantly, it’s because whenever I picture myself happy it’s with you.”

A sob breaks through the silence. Tears, big fat crocodile ones, pour down Virgil’s face. For a second Damien thinks he said something wrong, but then Virgil swoops down to capture his lips in a kiss.

There’s nothing soft about it. Not even three seconds in and Virgil’s hand tugs at his long locks, making Damien see stars. Somehow he’s able to break through the daze and wrap his arms around Virgil’s back, pulling him close until there’s no space between them.

Besides the occasional growl and groan, there’s just the sound of their heavy breathing whenever they disconnect for a few seconds and then continue where they left off. Virgil plays dirty by wrapping his legs around the other’s waist, so Damien retaliates by biting at his lips.

When they break apart, eyes half-lidded and hands still wandering, they smile at one another.

“Brilliant idea,” Damien breaks the silence first, voice rough like sandpaper. “Kissing me while you’re crying. Now all I can taste is salt - ow!”

Damien rubs the spot where Virgil threw a pillow at him. All the while Virgil sticks out the same tongue just shoved down his throat a second ago.

“Well played,” Damien grumbles.

Virgil shrugs. “It was either the pillow or not saying yes.”

“Truly, what a difficult decision. Me versus your fragile pride.”

“Shut up and give me the ring before I hit you twice.”

Damien rolls his eyes, but there’s fondness behind them as he slips the ring on. All the while Virgil is smiling so wide and so hard he doesn’t know how his face doesn’t crack from the pressure.

Virgil knows for a fact that his eyes are puffy, that his nose is running and that his face is the same color as a cherry. But he doesn’t care. All he can focus on is the man in front of him, with his beautiful mind and a stunning smile currently aimed (and from now on always will be) only at him.

“I love you.”

Damien doesn’t hesitate. “I love you too.”

Damien watches with love in his eyes as Virgil’s eyes crinkle around the corners.

He then watches with confusion as Virgil pulls out his phone.

“Oh no,” Damien groans, “don’t tell me you’re going to tell your Tumblr followers the news first.”

“First off, fuck you. You’re just sour over the fact that Remus was the first person I told about my Tumblr account. Secondly,” Virgil puts the phone to his ear. “No, I’m not.”

The person on the other end of the line picks up on the first ring.

“Kiddo, I was hoping you’d call back! Tell Damien I don’t mind what he said. I take it as a compliment, truly!”

Virgil smiles. “I’ll do you one better. How about I give you the phone to talk to him yourself?”

He hands the phone over.

Damien, once again, doesn’t hesitate.

“Good morning, father-in-law.”

[chemiste]

Foresight ~ ch. 1

A/N : hey y’all, this is the very first chapter! please let me know what you think of it, feedback is greatly appreciated :) love Anna

You were so fucking excited for the concert.

Maggie and you had been saving up for a trip to Europe during spring break and were floored to get to go. It also helped that her father had been kind enough to take you girls with him on his company jet since he had a meeting in Germany (CEO of one of the biggest companies had its perks). 

After Maggie and you had parted ways with him, you both spent a few days traveling around Darmstadt when Maggie got a call from her father saying one of his colleagues had gotten concert tickets to a show in Basel for his daughter’s birthday but she wasn’t going to be able to make it and gave them to him for Mags instead.

“Ya dad, what’s up?—no way really? Of course we’ll go! Okay, tell him thank you for us!”

“You got concert tickets.” You stated, after taking a sip of your lemonade you bought from the small German woman that had been selling them at the farmer’s market you both stumbled across.

 Maggie rolled her eyes at you, “I can never surprise you can I?!” You laughed, “Sorry! It’s not like I can help it.” “I know, you’ve got your super psychic abilities that unables me to throw you a surprise birthday party!” She exclaimed, then blew a raspberry as if to prove her disappointment.

You were psychic, sort of. Your parents first noticed it when you would say the delivery line of a joke in sync with the late show host of whatever was playing on the TV. 

At first, they thought you must have heard it beforehand but then it just kept happening during things they knew were new airings. You also were never surprised, ever. Which probably was a bit of a bummer but it’s not like you knew any different. The moment they knew you had some sort of ability was during your middle school’s raffle at a spirit week fundraiser. 

They both watched in awe as you recited the 8 number combination of the winning ticket before it had been drawn.

After that significant event, they took you to a doctor who referred you to a colleague that dealt with psychological abilities. They were the ones to inform your parents you basically just knew things before others could. It couldn’t be classified till you got older and even if you did more tests, it wouldn’t do anything so you’re parents just decided to leave it at that. 

You weren’t conscious of yourself doing it when you were young but as you got older, you could catch yourself thinking about something like it’s going to rain in 8 minutes and 36 seconds or I feel really bad that the little girl just dropped her ice-cream just seconds before it happened.

Well, it was a great party trick to use at uni shindigs.

Maggie smiled as a notification popped up on her phone. “Dad just sent over the concert tickets, let's go to the train station and see if we can get a ride straight to Basel.” 

Fortunately, you both had your suitcases with you since you were originally going further down the road to France and then Switzerland, but oh well, you could just reroute. Both you and Maggie were buzzed to be able to go see a concert on your trip and didn’t hesitate to change your plans.

It was easy to find the station and after a bit of horrible German from Maggie to the ticket booth woman, you both had boarding tickets to Basel. 

“I’m really excited to see Harry Styles, the new album is really good.” You said as you both settled into a train booth and hoisted the suitcases to the overhead compartment. 

“I never told you— oh never mind, yeah I’m pumped! These tickets are for the floor so you bet your ass we’re squishing our way to the front. I’m too damn short to be anywhere else!” You chuckled at her statement. 

You started humming the melody of a song that had been stuck in your head all afternoon and scrolled through some pictures on your phone and decided to post something on Instagram.

The ride was uneventful, plus a great time to book a room on Airbnb and catch a small nap before the concert that night. Maggie and you took a cab from the train station to the lovely home you were spending the night in, or rather the spare guest home that was in the backyard. 

It was a fantastic find since most motels had been already booked for other spring breakers, apparently, the couple that was supposed to stay that night had to cut their trip short cause the man’s sister was going into labor in London. 

Well, that’s what the elderly lady—Martha call me Martha— said as she took you girls to the back house.

While Mags rummaged through her clothes looking for something to wear, you very graciously flopped onto the king bed that was pressed to the back wall.

Her head popped up from the other side of the case, “What are you gonna wear Y/N?” She stood up with a sequin pink top stretched out between her to hands to examine it, “I’m thinking this sparkle top thing I shoved in my bag last minute and my black denim skirt.” 

You let out a whine and sat up, “Yeah that will look nice, I’m thinking I’ll wear my Ramones t-shirt and some high waisted blue jeans—ya know the ones that make my ass look fantastic?”

Your bubbly brunette friend nodded her head excitedly at you and then suggested getting a quick bite to eat before the show. “We’ve got several hours to kill before.” After you got dinner, you headed down the street to a small bakery that you snapped a photo of to post later and got some goodies to snack on.

Maggie moaned as she chewed her Mandelgipfel, and you unwrapped one of the Biberlis you purchased. On the walk back, you thought about the setlist (which you had conveniently pulled up on your phone to see what you’d be watching).

“I’m really excited to hear Carolina, he sings like he’s sex on legs during that song.” She told you as she threw her napkin into the bin as she walked by.

You threw your head back and laughed, Maggie could sure be blunt sometimes, you thought to yourself.

Once back at the AirBnB, it was a bit of a mad dash to get ready. You did your favorite makeup and a good hairdo that would last threw all the headbanger songs. Mags went with space buns and bright pink eyeshadow to “match her sparkle shirt of course!” 

Before you knew it, the pair of you took a cab to the concert center and were into the venue without a hassle.

“Excuse me! So sorry, trying to get through!” Maggie demanded as she pushed through the crowd, her 4th beer in one hand and yours in the other, having a pushy small friend has its perks. Somehow, you don’t really know how (too busy trying to make sure your vodka didn’t spill) she managed to get you both to the very front of the stage.

People in black were on various parts of the stage, clipboards in hand. Some had walkie talkies and would speak into them every so often, you wondered how they could hear a response with such a loud crowd.

Maggie and you finished your drinks and put them into the bin over the barrier that was thankfully just an arms reach away. A few minutes later, the lights went dark and everyone started to cheer. Mags leaned over to you, “I think Mabel is coming on!”

The songs Mabel played were fun and the pair of y’all bounced to the beat of God Is A Dancer, the girl bowed and finally the rubric cube showed above on the large screen.

Screams filled the arena, you hollered while your friend jumped up screaming like a preteen.

And then there he was.

Only Angel was fantastic, and Harry looked amazing. He was decked out in a black sequin jacket and pants that shined with every minuscule movement the man made. It was jaw-dropping, to say the least.

After you jammed to Woman, snapped a picture during Ever Since New York, and rocked with Maggie to Two Ghosts, he took a pause to speak with the crowd.

“‘ello! ’m Harry Styles, nice to meet you.” The crowd erupted in cheers. “It’s lov’ly to see all your beautiful faces t’night, ‘m so glad you could make it t’ the show!”

“This next song is one of my favorites to perform, this is Carolina.”

Maggie nearly had a heart attack when he said the first syllable, and you were having a blast as well. Also good to note that yes, Maggie was right, he does look like walking sex when he performs that song (but I mean, when does he not).

You were mesmerized by the way he owned the stage, like it was his lover. You closed your eyes and rolled your body to the beat.

As the song ended, Harry seemed a little jittery which intrigued you, just a moment ago he seemed so confident. Maybe it’s because he’s nervous to perform his new songs.

Wait, what?

“— and uh, we’ve never play this before, this is a new one, this one’s called Medicine.” Maggie and you looked at each other with wide eyes and screamed with the crowd as well, the vodka was starting to kick in and your mind was floating in bliss.

Here to take my medicine, take my medicine

Treat you like a gentleman

Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline

Think I'm gonna stick with you

Here to take my medicine, take my medicine

Rest it on your fingertips

Up to your mouth, feeling it out

Feeling it out

You were singing along with the song having a grand o’l time of it, what you didn’t realize is that Maggie was standing next to you, staring at you with the pikachu surprise face. 

She grabbed your shoulder, “You know the lyrics?!” You looked at her with a mild expression, “ya? Don’t you? It’s what I was humming on the train.”

I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted

And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you—

“—TASTED!” You yelled up during the pause. Immediately you knew something was up when Harry’s head snapped over to look right at you. You were the only one to scream that to him. “Oh, fuck! Nobody else knows this do they?!”

If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive

You got the salt and I got me an appetite; now I can taste it

You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy

La la la la la

You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh

You said to Maggie as people around you gave you a funny side-eye. She shook her head and laughed. “It’s no fair that you were jamming to this hours before I was!” It’s whatever, just enjoy the show Y/N!

Tingle running through my blood, fingers to my toes

Tingle running through my bones

The boys and the girls are here

I mess 'round a bit

And I'm okay with it

The boys and girls are here

I'm messing 'round with them

And I'm okay with it

As you went back to dancing, your fuzzy state of mind didn’t seem to register that a certain singer was watching you as you sang every lyric with him.

Oh god, there must have been a leak somewhere, Harry thought as he finished the chorus.

I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it

And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you—

“—Ride it!” You yelled out subconsciously. Fuck I did it again! You thought. 

Harry couldn’t believe it, there you were, in the front row acting like nothing was strange about you yelling out lyrics he had purposely not sung. He kept going and let his eyes skitter around the crowd of people close to you.

If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive

You got the salt and I got me an appetite; now I can taste it

You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh

La la la la la

You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh

They seem just as confused as I do, so luckily, maybe it’s a fresh leak that can be fixed quickly. God, I’m going to have to get a new laptop aren’t I? How are people so damn good at hacking, Harry thought.

I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted

The rockstar shook his head and waved his hands during the ending of the lyrics. The lights went out and he took a deep breath. It’ll be fine.

If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive

You got the salt and I got me an appetite; now I can taste it

You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh

La la la la la

You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh

The song ended and the concert attendees roared with praise of hearing a “supposedly” unreleased song. Maggie pulled you down into a crouch as she saw the singer looking with hawk eyes over the area they stood. 

“Y/N, He totally heard you! And I don’t think he’s too happy about it.” You both slowly stood up to see him walking over to Mitch, his guitarist and whisper something in his ear. The man in question looked over to where you were and it made you die a tiny bit inside. 

Oh god, I really hope I’m not in trouble.

Surprisingly, you hadn’t ever gotten into a bad situation because of your psychic abilities, it always helped most of the time, like when you were able to stop your friend from running around a corner of a building, not knowing a bicyclist was racing down it; Saved her and the cyclist from a bad crash.

 Now, feeling the eyes of multiple, very important people, made you think this was revenge for all the times you did a good deed. Ugh, I thought karma was supposed to reward good deeds! Not punish them!

Everything seemed to return to normal as Harry started Meet Me In The Hallway, then chatting with a couple fans, sang Sweet Creature, a lucky catch of a lavender bra which he quickly threw back out, and then If I Could Fly, everything was fine and dandy.

Till he announced the next song.

“This song is called Anna, and it’s new. 1,2,3,4!”

As the intro played, Harry kept an eye on you. There was no way you could know this one, they had never recorded it in the studio, only practice. If you did, oh god he didn’t even want to think about it.

Don't know where you're laying, just know it's not with me

Don't know what I'd tell you if I passed you on the street

Okay, it seems fine right now, she’s not singing along, just dancing with her friend as she said something to her. He continued.

I don't want your sympathy

But you don't know what you do to me

Oh, Anna

Fuck. There you were, pretending to have an invisible mic in your hand and belting out the lyrics. He watched for a moment as your brown-haired friend grabbed you by the arm and ‘discreetly’ nodded her head up to him. Wait, did you look surprised that you were singing along too?

Every time I see your face

There's only so much I can take

Oh, Anna

“Oh my god I did it again Maggie! He’s gonna call security isn’t he, and then I’ll be taken down to the station and locked away because he’s rich and famous and I’ll never see the light of day again!” You cried.

Don't know how you taste when there's smoke in your perfume

So chew me up and spit me out, nothing left to lose

I don't want your sympathy

But you don't know what you do to me

Oh, Anna

Every time I see your face

There's only so much I can take

Oh, Anna

Mags took hold of your chin and pulled you down to her face, “It’s alright, we’ll figure it out Y/N, plus they might just check online to see if someone had put up a recording beforehand that they didn’t know about and they’ll just think you’re a crazy dedicated fan. I really don’t think Harry Styles is going to lock you up for knowing his songs.”

You let out a large breath and nodded at her. You purposely kept your mouth shut during the next chorus, not wanting his eyes on you for a bad reason again.

I don't want your sympathy

But you don't know what you do to me

Oh, Anna

Every time I see your face

There's only so much I can take

Oh, Anna

Hope you never hear this and know that it's for you

I don't know what I'd tell you if you asked me for the truth

I don't want your sympathy

But you’ll never know what you do to me

Oh, Anna

Every time I see your face

There's only so much I can take

Oh, Anna

Some guy behind you pushed forward, causing you to squish into the barrier. It distracted you enough that when you looked up, Harry Styles and you were having a little duet.

Well I guess it would be nice

If I could touch your body

If I could touch your body

If I could touch your body

If I could touch your body

That’s it, how the FUCK does she know that part? Harry and the band had only decided to add it to the song yesterday for a fun spin-off of a classic. He was starting to freak out inside but oddly enough, it looked like she was too.

I don't want your sympathy

But you’ll never know what you do to me

Oh, Anna

Every time I see your face

There's only so much I can take

Oh, Anna

The song ended and you whipped around to face the crowd rather than him, back still pressed to the barrier. “Maggie I’m so screwed.” She put her hand on your shoulder and whispered to you, “Are there any more surprise songs?” 

You shook your head, “The setlist is altered a bit but that’s it. Wait, why do I know that?!”

You leaned your head back and looked to the ceiling, “Maggie, my psychic-ness isn’t usually this strong? I guess is the word?"—you looked at her—“why is it so easy to just know this stuff because of him?”

The space bunned brunette only shrugged. “Let's just enjoy the rest of the show, ‘kay?” You nodded and turned back around only to be met with an intense stare from the man on stage, but the stare wasn’t mad—more a confused look, which surprised you.

The rest of the show went very well. Maggie nearly burst into tears when she heard his rendition of TWMYB and then Sign Of The Times. His encore was phenomenal and you sang your head off to The Chain and rocked your socks off to Kiwi.

“Thank you eve’yone!” Was the last thing shouted out by the singer as he left the stage, but not without sparing you one last glance. 

“Let’s try and get out of here as fast as possible.” Maggie agreed and hand in hand you weaved your way through the crowd.

Just as you thought you made it home free, a security guard stopped you.

 “Ma’am, if you would please follow me. You’re needed backstage.” 

Your stomach dropped, oh no.

telephone hour for this chapter

ch.2

let me know what you think! 

~ Jess