#my heart started beating so fucking fast when i heard the guitar riff

[nectarine-neuroticism]

this was me in the discord server a couple days ago and I had been thinking about THIS... the pure (im)possibility of THIS moment since then.

and it fucking happened.

look at him geekin' the fuck out. tag yourself, i'm the guy giving the thumbs up. the guitar riff was fucking everything though. i am the song sample recognizer, not even kidding. ik this means nothing to anyone other than irl ppl, but if i was ever a genius at anything --- it is knowing my music. i could've passed out at hearing that.

GUYS!!!! It was true!!!! Hell yeah he slayed this so hard!

(Fr almost screamed when I heard the guitar riff)!

[ioniansunsets]

I JUST FOUND YOUR BLOG AND OMG

hey imma need that confession Heartsteel Kayn moment yannoooo… fr all I’ve been thinking about 😳😳😳

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Confessing ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.2k

✖ Tags: Awkward Confessions

✖ A/N: Reader here is just someone who works at his studio! He met you as Heartsteel slowly begun to start out and get ready for debut. Also writing this with that one ask about him writing a song about this exact moment in mind. Heehee!

I was reading some fanfics on my side and got filled with so much adrenaline and emotions I spat this out. I got very very very carried away writing this. I hope its not too OOC. Thank you for asking for this, I couldn't stop thinking about writing it.

----

It sucked. It fucking sucked. The way his heart raced when you were near.

The loud thumping against his chest. He hated it.

He hated how vulnerably and un-badass it made him feel. How the high he got from you rivaled that of the stage.

How your voice played over and over in his mind more than any melody he knew. How your laughter made his knees weak. It made Him. Weak!

He hated. He loathed. He grunts in frustration as he rocks out hard on his guitar. Fingers picking at the strings, a sick solo riff but it was for no one but himself.

Oh, how he did arguably stupider things than usual when he saw you watching. Showing off to you he jumped off a stage once. Which is not too far off from usual but it was to no audience! It was during a practice run! He did it just to flex to you that he was cool! Fucking embarrassing to remember but he did! All because you were standing nearby! How could you do such a thing to him!

The absolute frustration he was filled with. Not pent up rage, not a craving for violence and destruction, but affection? Undeniable. Overflowing. Drowning and choking him. Affection!

He finally threw his guitar on the ground. Breathing heavy. Hands running through his hair to push away the hair that has fell to his face in his little jam session. Hands wiping away the sweat. No matter how long he played, how fast his fingers pressed the strings, how frantically he strummed away. How he still played, chipping his painted nails when he slips up and drops his pick. The loud music of his electric guitar couldn't drown out the high BPM beat of his heart going off in his ears. The mental image of you smiling and waving at him every time he shows up. The tingle in his fingertips imagining himself holding you.

Swallowing hard, he storms out of the studio. He was at his fucking limit and refused to deal with this flip flop of emotions any longer. A cold shower. He calms down. Tomorrow. At the studio when he goes in to record. He'll find you then. He'll go early before the rest of the band gets there. He'll get this done and over with. Enough hours were spent being a mess about you. He was going to get this done! Tossing and turning in bed for hours he finally falls asleep. Tomorrow, he'll confess.

xxxx

The next day came soon enough. Making sure he looked good, makeup on, hair styled nicely, a sexy ass outfit with his deliciously sculpted abs out. Not the usual for when he goes to the studio but if he was going to be confessing? Perfect. Yes he was perfect in his own eyes but still, his heart raced. Small whispers of Rhaast in his mind, telling him they might reject him, that he was someone that needed nobody, he shouldn't go up to them and say anything, the frustration was so good for his music! But still, he walked on. Boots hitting the floor at the same pace of his rapidly beating heart as he walks up to you. You heard him before you saw him, the thump of his boots echoing closer and closer.

" Hey!"

He cringes internally, the hell was that greeting. Hey? Just hey?! He smiles. Cocky as usual. Face never betraying his emotions, yeah he was cool like that. The shaking of his hands held back as he puts them in his pockets. Its alright, he looked cool. Just like that, hands in his pockets fiddling with his phone as he leans against the wall to talk to you.

" Can I talk to you a bit before I go and record stuff?"

Oh gods you smiled and nodded. His heart fluttered. His expression, involuntary, visibly lighting up. The way your smile just made him smile so bright back. He takes a deep breath.

" I uh...I love you."

He spat it out. It wasn't cool. It wasn't sexy. It was a choked out confession. Heart racing, palms now sweaty in his pockets, still shaking. Hells, shaking More now. His breath heavy as he tries to keep the anxiety at bay. A feeling of stage fright he never felt before. Suddenly hitting him. You look at him, face slowly getting more flushed as you process the sudden confession.

" I hate it but I've fallen head over heels for you. I'm a fucking wreck. You ruin me."

Kayn runs his hands through his hair, a habit to calm himself down. His eyes closed as he takes a deep breath before continuing.

" You genuinely make my time here at the studio fun, your presence is chaotic and calming at the same time. I want to be with you. I want us to be a thing. You already know me, you've seen the me on stage during practice, off stage when I record lines, you've seen Rhaast go all out and you still choose to be around me. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted."

He looks at you now, a calm stare. Lips pursed in a tight line. Swallowing hard. His nerves somehow finding solace in letting out all his feelings that were pent up over the month or two since you got to know each other. You laugh, gods your laugh. He's giddy. You tell him you love him too. He smiles.

A pause as he suddenly stands up straight. You tell him you love him too?

" Wait haha what? Really?"

He was amazing of course you'd say yes but still, there was that tiny part of him that was worried. You liked him back? You Love him? The amazing you! The you that shone like a sun in his frustrating days of endless work as a rockstar. You! He was fucking Elated. Arms immediately around you, a tight hug as he lets out a sigh. Breath he didn't even realize he was holding until now. His arms still shaking a little as he held you.

" Can I kiss you. Right now? I-"

Kayn doesn't even finish his sentence, the moment you nod his lips are on yours, passionate. Hands threading through your hair as he holds your head gently. Holding you against him. His free hand around your waist, supporting you as much as he was supporting himself from falling apart at your touch. How he loved you, the smell of your hair so close to him now, the taste of your lips on his, the feeling of your soft delectable lips on his. How warm you were in his hands, how faint your breath on his face. He was in love. He was in Love.

As he pulls apart. He takes another deep breath. The way you left him literally breathless. Fuck. This was an excitement he never felt before. Never has a kiss left him feeling so...good? Never has a hug left him literally shaking with excitement. You were special and now you were his.

" You're so fucking perfect you know that?"

He laughs shakily. A hand rising, trembling as he lightly touches his lips. Still in disbelief. He loves you. Undeniably. Overwhelmingly. The storm of emotions he held for the past, who knows how long, now a summer breeze filling his chest with a warmth he doesn't remember ever feeling. He loves you.

[metallicaislife]

Meet and Greet

Requested by: Anon

Word Count: 1,536

Genre: 18+ Smut minors dni

Warnings: protected sex, oral(f and m receiving), swearing

The sun beat down on me as I waited in line. As soon as I heard Metallica was coming to my city, you bet I snatched a ticket so fast, and paid extra for the meet and greet. It didn’t matter that none of my friends were interested in the band, nothing was going to stop me from coming even if it meant I was going alone. 

I was surprised that I got there before the band did. I watched as their bus pulled up, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of the door as it opened. The first member off of the bus was Kirk, he has been my favorite since I got into the band. He’s geeky, and proud of it, he just seems like the sweetest guy. His looks take my breath away, seeing him in person is so much better than the glimpses I've gotten on the television. His mop of curly dark hair, and deep brown eyes. Perfect. 

Our eyes met as he walked past, and he smiled. Kirk fucking Hammett perceived me with his eyeballs and smiled. I could die right now and still be the happiest woman alive. 

The rest of the guys walked past and waved saying hi to their fans. I was still on cloud nine just thinking about the smile from Kirk. 

Not long after they got there, the line started moving and the meet and greet began. When it was my turn for the one on ones, I talked to Cliff first, he was really kind, even though I could see he would rather meet fans in the wild instead of this sort of setting, but now they were blowing up and not playing small venues, that is a bit harder, so I’m grateful they are doing this meet and greet. Lars was next, and he was super funny. He talked my ear off about how excited he was for this tour and thanked me for coming. James had to tell him to shut his trap so the line could keep going, which brought me to James, super sweet guy. Like Cliff, this wasn’t his jam, maybe if it was the fan just talking to the whole group instead of the one on one, he would flourish a little more, he was delightful to chat with though. Kirk was last in line, I could feel my heartbeat picking up, just like out in line our eyes met and he smiled at me. 

“Hey, I’m Kirk.” He said, giving me a small wave. I introduced myself and mirrored his wave. He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Thanks for coming out, we really appreciate our fans, we wouldn’t be where we are without you all.” He said. 

“No, thank you for sharing your talent with us, my life wouldn’t be the same without your insane guitar riffs.” I complimented him. His grin widened.

“You’re too kind, and cute too. I don’t know if my heart can handle such compliments from a woman like you.” He winked. I could feel my cheeks heating up. “I don’t do this often, and believe me that isn’t a line, but here,” He said and reached in his back pocket and sneakily handed me a pass. “Our time is short here, but meet me backstage after the show.” He finished. In utter shock, I pocketed the pass and nodded. 

“Will do, Mr. Hammett.” I said, starting to feel more confident. Kirk smirked at me and we parted ways. 

Okay, keep it together. Yes, I just had my main character moment but I had to keep my head on planet earth. After the show could go many ways, but the most likely scenario had me clenching my thighs at the thought. 

Preoccupied with my thoughts, time passed fast, before I knew it, the show started. I was at the barricade on Kirk’s side. I know I already said it, but the tv screen does not do that man justice. He was so sexy on stage, lost in his playing. He kept looking my way and would smirk as I screamed along to the music. 

Needless to say the show was abso-fucking-lutely phenominal and I knew right then and there any time they come to play I would be purchasing a ticket. 

When the show finished, I confidently made my way backstage. Well, I was confident until I passed security and had no earthly idea where to go. I must have looked like a lost puppy as I stood awkwardly unsure if I should just start knocking on doors, because no way in hell would I give up whatever opportunity I was given by Kirk. 

“Hey, you’re the girl from the meet and greet.” A voice called out. I turned around and was met with Cliff, who had a smirk gracing his lips.

“Uh, yeah, I am.” I replied. 

“Loverboy’s dressing room is that one over there.” He said and pointed to the only door off to the side. 

“Thank you, Cliff.” I said, he nodded and moseyed off to his own dressing room. 

I made my way to Kirk’s dressing room and knocked. He poked his head out soon after, and smiled when he saw me. 

“Come on in.” He said opening the door wider. My eyes widened slightly seeing he was sweaty and shirtless already. I entered and he shut the door behind me. 

“You played really well tonight.” I told him. 

“Again, the prettiest woman with the compliments, I don’t know if my heart can handle it.” He said, placing his hand over his heart. I giggled. “Can I get you some water or beer?” He asked. 

“I’m fine, thanks.” I said. I wrung my hands together, the confidence leaving my body unsure of where this encounter would take us. I mean, I know what I wanted, but if I read the situation wrong I would absolutely die of embarrassment. Kirk noticed my hands and reached out stilling them. 

“Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I just thought you were gorgeous, and had good vibes.” He said reassuringly. 

“Oh I definitely want to, unless you don’t want to, I just wanted to make sure I read the situation right.” I said. Kirk chuckled.

“I definitely want to.” He replied. 

“So it would be okay if I kissed you?” I asked softly.

“More than okay.” He whispered back.

I closed my eyes, our lips met softly as we wrapped our arms around one another. The kiss grew heated as he backed me into the couch and helped me lay down. He kissed my neck and left a mark. All reservations were gone as my hands wandered his body. He undressed me. My back arched as he I found his tongue to be just as skilled as his fingers. 

“Oh my god, Kirk…” I moaned out. I gripped his hair tightly and he hummed against my pussy. He used two fingers to bring me over the edge. My voice already hoarse from the concert. As I came down from my orgasm I noticed his boxers were removed. He stood next to my head and I positioned myself so I could take his dick in my mouth. I darted my tongue out liking the tip before letting him slide into my mouth. I hollowed out my cheeks as he began thrusting softly. Tears entered my eyes as he repeatedly hit the back of my throat. He picked up the pace and had his hand in my hair as he helped me meet his thrusts. I could feel him getting closer to his high. He stopped and pulled out of my mouth, he found a condom and rolled it on before climbing back on top of me. His lips found mine in a deep kiss as he sunk into me. His pace was relentless. He broke the kiss as my head fell back, I let out a hoarse scream. He bit my neck softly as his hand found my clit. He rubbed me as he continued rutting into me. I came a second time, the pleasure hazing my vision. Kirk came soon after and buried his forehead on my shoulder. 

“Fuck that was so good.” Kirk muttered. 

After we cooled down, He helped me clean up and we got dressed. 

“I probably ought to head out.” I said after gathering my things. 

“I wasn’t kidding earlier when I said I don’t do this often, I know I’m in the middle of tour, but I want to see you again.” Kirk smiled at me.

“I would like that too.” I smiled back. 

Kirk and I exchanged numbers and he walked me out to my car that was in the nearly empty lot. Kirk kissed me, and waved goodbye as I drove off. 

Not only did I get to meet my favorite band, see them perform and have mind blowing sex with my celebrity crush… He wanted to see me again. Even if we don’t, I won’t kid myself, we live very different lives- I’ll be content knowing for one night I took the breath away from the man who has consistently stolen my breath since I saw his first interview.

Thank you for reading! :)

-Isa

[geordikisser]

‘nobody knows what i see.’

seth (+ alphonse mention‼️) x guitarist!reader

——————————————————————

motivational shit :3, domestic fluff & suggestive comments ^_^

📓 ,, authors note : felt a little silly gais, considering snorts heh,,,, my silly ass play geetaur 🤓☝🏽,,!!1!1!1!! this is just like—- for me lmao L:|

——————————————————————

seth was bringing in groceries from him and alphonse shopping trip. “that’s all, al.” he calls out to the gumdrop boy as he notices alphonse is slipping and sliding to the bathroom. “andddd he’s gone,,,” he grins, a chuckle escapes him. he begins to unbag all the refrigerator items and puts them where they need to be.

humming to himself, he begins to loose himself,,, he begins putting everything away as alphonse takes a leak. “i got my boots,, i got my hat,,,” seth hums to himself as he sets the big bag of flour on the floor in the cabinet. he stretches up and grunts as he hears footsteps behind him.

“damn!!! you work fast.” al smirks as seth gives an eye roll in return. “you take to long to piss.” seth grabs the tote bags and places them by the front door. “imma start dinner! tell boo we’re home, won’t you?” alphonse calls to seth as seth slips his shoes off and puts on the bunny slippers you bought him.

he finds himself smiling whenever he slips these on. it fills him with a childlike happiness knowing you even think about him. speaking of you,,, how have you not heard them come back?

seth slides up the stairs and wonders to your guys room. “hey su—“ he cuts himself off immediately. he hears a intense(ly off tune) riff echoing from the room. followed with frustrated grunts following.

you adjust your guitars tuning and you play your warmup riff. he laughs as she sees you jump with confidence. you clear your throat as you begin plucking the intro to your favorite song at the moment.

you begin humming to keep up with the rhythm of the song. “some people think i’m acting worse for wear,,” you sing happily as seth feels his heart have a heart beat.

you get to the bridging part of it and seth has never fallen harder for you than he has then. the way you sang or even hum along melodically with your playing, it complimented eachother perfectly. to the way you would smile at certain lyrics and how you would squint your eyes to hit certain parts of the song.

seth watched you so delicately like you would disappear if he didn’t watch hard enough. “crazy for you,, oh boy,,,” you hum sweetly as those lyrics just melted upon seth’s ears. you clear your throat as you take off your headphones and place your guitar on its stand. seth had no idea you played guitar, alphonse? sure. but seth? he was enamored in more ways than one.

he gently knocks on the door and you whipped your head behind you. “a—alphy!!! i told you i don’t like it when you watch—,,” you stammer embarrassingly. as seth reveals himself, you feel even more embarrassed.

“o—oh,,, hey hunnybunny,,” you blush as he laughs at your bashfulness. “oh, seth can watch but alphonse can’t huh?” he smirks at you as he walks towards the bed. you huff with a big red blush peering on your face.

“d—didn’t say all that,,” you mutter as he giggles and takes a seat beside you. “you play guitar, sugar?” his eyes meet your shy silly ones. “y—yeahhh,, i dabbled in highschool to college sortaaa,,-?” you grin cheekily. he nods as you caresses your cheek gently.

“you’re reaaaal sweet when you act all bashful for me. don’t like an audience?” he asked as he rubbed your cheek with his thumb, feeling the heat radiate from your embarrassed face. you shake your head ‘no’ as he clicks his tongue. “whys that now, darlin’?” he asks as you look away, this time less bashfulness and more of a sad puppy gloominess.

“i,, i dont know.” you state blatantly as he guides your face to meet his. “now now,, you know why.” his eyes give you a reassuring look as you smile. “i get embarrassed easily,,, i reaaaaaally fucking hate it.” you laugh, your voice cracking awkwardly. loosing eye contact with him. “i always kinda sucked at this sorta thing,,” you admit as you hold seth’s hand with your free ones. nuzzling into his touch.

“well let me tell you something.” he begins as you look at him. “you, are the most talented person i’ve ever met.” he smiles. using both hands to cup your face. “you’re an amazing friend, lover, supporter, baker and now known guitarist! how many people can someone say that they know someone like you.” he smiles sweetly.

“nor does anyone taste as sweet as you.” he smirks as he leans in and gives you a big smooch. “real sweet.” he murmurs in a low tone going in for seconds. giggles and kisses as seth whispers sweet nothings to you. slowly, he pins you down to the bed within this kissing session.

“you are the most gorgeous.” smooch! “most funniest.” smoooooch.. “and sexiest piece of work i’ve ever seen.” he says, pulling away as he fixes your disheveled hair out of your face. both of you glowing red.

he clears his throat as he sits up with you in his arms. “what i’m saying is sugar. you are a packaged deal! you are one sweet thing and this son of a bitch (literally,,,,) is lucky to have you. and i bet alphonses stupid ass is just as grateful as i.” he smiles as his breath lingers on your neck.

you hold onto his arms as you hum in response to his sweetness. “you are one special human being and i’m glad to know you,,” he smiles. “thanks sethy,,, i love you more then you could ever know.” you sigh as he kisses your neck, tickling you. “now cmon,,,!!! alphonse is making dinner!! gotta make sure the kitchen doesn’t melt from the outside.” he teases as you giggle and jump up.

as you two walk down stairs, you hold onto seth’s pinkie. “thank you seth. for loving me.” you say before you take the last step. he turns to you and smiles. “of course suga—“

“ok loveturds. alphypoo needs help,,,” he grumbled sarcastically with a smitten look on his face. “s—sorry alphy!!” you giggle as you walk up to him, talking the ingredients and putting them to good use.

[daxieoclock]

I know most of the funny musics you've listed already, but I don't know willow and Yoko Shimomura and Danny Baranowsky and Shiro SAGISU and Masayoshi Takanaka and Lena Raine and Dios and Akintoye and Imogen Heap and Des Rocs and Sarah & the Safe Word and The Sonder Bombs and Rina Sawayama and The Beths and Silversun Pickups(?) and IDKHBTFM and Tancred and the three Starkid musicals(?) Where do you recommend that I start? Is there 1 song from each that you strongly recommend that I open my ears to? :-0

YOU BET I DO OMG OMG

Thank you for the excuse to Musicpost mwehehehehehe

Since it's so many artists, I will send one song each and give a lil bit of info.

WILLOW (aka Willow Smith) Sapphic and an absolute rock star. Her music is generally really high quality punky rock with a poppy appeal.

Yoko Shimomura Probably the greatest video game composer of all time hands down no fucking contest. She's the genius behind the Kingdom Hearts sountrack, and has also contributed her expertise to Final Fantasy XV, the Mario and Luigi games, Mario RPG and Secrets of Mana. Her music can be grand and orchestral or quiet and sweet or energetic and wiggly, and her use of character motifs is something to behold.

Danny Baranowsky Another video game composer, Danny B is known best for his work on Meat Boy, Binding of Isaac and Crypt of the Necrodancer. His tracks have an unmatched energy, from BoI's quiet melodic horror to Necrodancer's get up and boogie beats. And of course, Meat Boy's wiggletastic MOVE YOUR MEAT, BOY tunes.

Shiro SAGISU An anime composer whose work on Evangelion and Bleach is beyond description. And like, I wouldn't recommend either of the SHOWS, but his music is absolutely fucking unreal. Especially his heavy use of Spanish guitar in the Arrancar Arc of Bleach alongside his usual heavy orchestral violins and pianos.

Masayoshi Takanaka A rock and city pop musician in the 80s and 90s, whose music I've heard described as "surf-dude J-rock" which, yeah, accurate. But some of his later stuff is also really experimental, getting a bit into grunge or orchestral rock.

Lena Raine A composer who's made some songs for recent Minecraft updates, but most people know her best for the soundtrack to Celeste. Which is utterly fantastic, it's BEAUTIFUL, managing to capture both the grand scale of the mountain climb and the heavily personal emotional stakes of our protagonist Madeline. Heavy use of gorgeous synth alongside piano and drums and guitar makes the whole soundtrack SOUND magical and otherworldly, which fits the game well.

Dios I discovered Dios through their guitarist, Ichika Nito, whose riffs on Youtube are unmatched. Magic hands, I swear. But Dios's vocalist, Tanaka, also has one of the most unique singing voices I've ever heard, he's got almost an Italian or Spanish rolling cadence to some of his phrases. The guy's also just got a fantastic voice, and Dios's songs are extremely solid poppy rock.

Akintoye A fantastic lyricist with an incredibly fast and articulate voice, a great sense of rhythm and flow, he's also just one of the most charismatic singers / rappers I've ever heard. His energy is absolutely addicting, and he's got such catchy layered melodies it's SO hard to not wiggle my fingers off my hands when listening.

Imogen Heap Most people recognize her from OOO WHATCHA SAY, OOO THAT YOU ONLY MEANT WELL, WELL OF COURSE YOU DID and like. Hide and Seek is an underrated song tbh but Speak for Yourself and Eclipse are just in general fantastic albums. It's impossible for me to describe her genre so I'm just gonna say...music that my very white hippie mom listens to all the time.

Des Rocs A modern day classic rock star. Not much else to say beyond that he's unreal talented.

(Continuing in reblog)

[sunjaesol]

28, 31, and 32 for Willex for the kiss prompts

KISS PROMPTS (closed) 28 + 31 +32. One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss + Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips + A kiss so passionate, so perfect - that after they part, neither person can open their eyes for a few moments afterwards

(canon)

If Willie’s afterlife wasn’t on the line, he’d be begging to be warped back to that dark room so he could cry and hyperventilate in peace. Alas, it was Willie and Alex was pretty sure he was sort of in love with the guy - crying was no option right now. Afterwards, whether there was a good or bad outcome, he’d cry. A lot.

The plan sounded easy. It did, because it was made up by Luke and Reggie (under supervision by Julie, but angels could only do so much) and their one track mind didn’t take the dozen things that could go wrong into account. 

Sneak into the HGC, challenge Caleb to a musical battle, find Willie while the diversion was happening, get out. They didn’t know how big the club truly was, they didn’t know if Willie was there, they didn’t know if he… (he couldn’t think like that) and, on top of that, they were taking a huge risk returning to the crime scene. 

That man was the Devil and he had managed to lure them right into his snake pit without breaking a sweat. It was terrifying. 

Alex wished he was like his brothers. They were scared, sure, but it didn’t cripple them to a numbing fear. His muscles were so tight, he could snap. 

Julie noticed though. As the boys were preparing their riffs, she sat beside him on the couch. She didn’t say anything, but having her there was enough. (And if she intentionally deepened her breathing, all rhythmic and soothing, she didn’t mention it and neither did he. It helped.)

“Alright, boys,” Luke called out, body kinetic and twitching with energy. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Reggie hollered, plucking a few snares on his bass to accompany Luke’s laugh. Julie squeezed Alex’ hand and then hoisted him up when he didn’t move. 

Shooting them all a stern look, she said: “Be careful, please. Please don’t… do anything stupid.”   

“Julie-”

“Luke, please,” she pressed, nodding at the blonde. “No impulsive moves. Not right now.”

The guitarist slowly nodded, eyes flicking from the girl to the nervous drummer and then back to her. It seemed to mellow him down a bit, Alex utterly grateful she had him wrapped around her finger. 

Luke’s following words were hollow in his head, echoing in and out as his chest clenched and twisted up in a splintering knot. He knew he should be focusing, knew it would do him good hearing the plan again, to have it fresh in his mind, but he simply couldn’t. 

He just wanted Willie back. He promised he’d follow him and he wasn’t ready for the intense guilt if he couldn’t fulfil that. 

“Okay,” Alex interrupted his friend’s spiel. “Let’s do it.”

Luke’s brows raised in surprise and nodded, Reggie holding out his hands for them to hold. Julie took a step back and pressed a brave smile on her face. If he had any space in his mind to check in on her, he would. 

The bassist bid her a cheery goodbye - always the best one at faking confidence - and then they poofed out. 

Reappearing in front of the club, they took a collective breath. Because they were previously affected by Caleb, its lingering powers gave them the skill to still teleport to the hidden location. It was a loophole, something he hoped would save their asses again and again, for as long as they were on earth. 

Their entire afterlife existence was one fucking loophole. (Stop stressing about it! Focus on Willie!)

(He could really scream in a museum right now.) 

“Reg and I are gonna sneak in, cause a riot-”

“Hell yeah.”

“-and play like motherfucking rockstars,” Luke continued, gaze pointedly fixed on Alex. “You can do it, Alex. You know him better than anyone, you’re gonna know where he is.”

“Yeah, bud,” added Reggie. “Just follow the scent of your sweet, sweet boy. Or skid marks. Whatever. Or-”

He raised his hand. “Yeah, okay,” a shuddering breath paused his words, “thanks, Reg.”

Everything went really fast and agonisingly slow at once. His heart quickened its pace with each passing second, to the point where he wasn’t sure he’d make it back out. His friends ran inside and started kicking down chairs and tables, interrupting the performance of the menacing Caleb.  

Meanwhile, Alex slipped by on the periphery of the club, skittish eyes trying to find doors and hallways and stairs - anywhere that wasn’t meant for the public. It felt like someone was chasing him, like Caleb was already going after him when the electrifying riffs of Luke were clearly audible and piercing through intrusive thoughts. 

Focus. Focus on Willie. Save Willie. 

Doors slammed open and close, all devoid of people or ghosts. Some rooms caused a chill down his spine at the sight of utter darkness, reminded of the twenty-five years he had hopelessly cried. 

Running up and down stairs, turning corners in winding hallways, endless and long and messy. He had no clue how he should go back, if he was cornering himself.

Alex froze. Was he falling into a trap? Had this been Caleb’s plan all along? Oh, God. He should go back. He should find his way back to daylight, not look back and move on. This was too much, too much for a seventeen year old to handle. He couldn’t… 

Frustration poured from his throat into an angry shout. No! He should do this! If Willie risked everything, if Willie got buses to disappear into the desert, if Willie tried protecting him over and over again-

Alex screamed again. Louder and louder and louder. 

And then he heard it. Faint. 

“Alex?”

His breath hitched in his throat. No way. No fucking way. Cautiously, his feet followed the sound of the voice. It sounded like the skater, but he couldn’t be completely sure until he saw his face. Who knew what other tricks Caleb had up his sleeve? 

He gulped. “Willie?”

“Alex!”

It came from another hallway, echoing and warped. Right as he was about to turn the corner, sensing a presence, his voice called out. 

“Wait! You can’t… you can’t look at me. If you do, I won’t be able to escape.”

Confusion riddled his thoughts. “The hell?”

Willie sighed. “It’s- Caleb put a curse on me. No one is allowed to look at me.” The voice came closer. Still warped, like it was disembodied. “You have to trust that I’m following you.”

“I don’t know my way back,” Alex cried out. 

“I’ll help, Hotdog,” he said, the blonde imagining that signature crooked smile pulling on his lips. “Turn around and don’t look back at me. I’ll be there.”

Oh, man. This was a horrible time to start trusting his gut. But if a spontaneous solo yelling match got him to find Willie, then he should try this too. Spinning on his heels, he waited ‘til he felt something, anything, to indicate he was there. It didn’t happen. Unsure if he should call out for him, he started the trek. 

The closer he came back to his starting point, the more he noticed how the music was dying out. No guitar or bass that shredded through walls, no jazzy scatting that overpowered it. There was noise, but no distinct sound could be picked out. It felt like a haunted house. 

All the while, Willie nudged him around the right corners and up the right stairs. Wordlessly, that was. Somehow, he could feel it. Felt his guidance, as if a thin thread looped around him tugged him forward. (Or maybe, he just had a lot of practising chasing him around that it was like muscle memory.) 

After a few minutes, his surroundings became familiar. The air became thicker, the lights brighter. He still didn’t feel anyone behind him. From the corner of his eye did he see Luke and Reggie sprinting out the club. Correction: the demolished club. They really weren’t playing when they said they’d cause a riot. Fucking hooligans. 

Running for the door, he didn’t think about Caleb capturing them or Willie’s lack of body or anything. All he wanted to do was hold Willie again. Hug him. Kiss him. 

The drummer jumped over the threshold into broad daylight, Luke and Reggie hollering in victory when he did. Alex was stiff though, waiting. Anticipating. Did he follow? Was he still there? 

“I don’t know what’s going to happen if I leave without his permission, Alex,” Willie suddenly croaked out. 

His eyes screwed tight, clenching his fists and jaw and holding his ground. “We’ll figure it out, Willie,” he spit. “Please.”

All of a sudden, the boy crashed into his back with a blasting force, nearly teetering them to the ground. Warm arms wrapped around him, fingers curling into the strap of his fanny pack and twisting his body. 

And there he was, with gleaming eyes and a beautiful smile: Willie. 

Alex scrambled back on his feet and lurched forward, snatching him into a tight embrace. Tears burst up at the feel of his skin and dark locks and- and he was here. He was safe.    

“What happened?” he whispered. “What did he do?”

“Put me in a harder curse to crack,” he mumbled, “but I knew you could do it, Hotdog.”

He laughed, the sound wet and choked, and gripped onto his shoulders. Pulling away, he still couldn’t believe he was here. His hands wandered to his face, unable to keep himself from tracing his forehead and jaw to make sure that he was here. To make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Willie let him; a fond smile blooming. 

And when his nail went past his bottom lip, he stopped thinking entirely. 

Alex tilted his chin and as Willie’s smile grew, softly kissed him on the lips. He’s never kissed anyone before, but this seemed right. Willie was right. And man, did it feel good. 

Afraid of the overwhelming sensation - of the warmth and the lightness in his head and the beat of his heart that stuttered but in a good way - he pulled away, fingers still around his chin and noses brushing.  

An elated puff mingled with Willie’s breath. “Should I have told you first that I like you? Oh, shit. Should I have asked?”  

The boys behind him whooped and whistled. When he turned and told them to fuck off, they actually listened for once. Luke disappeared in a snap, Reggie following suit right after with a suggestive smirk and wink. Idiot. 

Hands snaked around his neck and swivelled him back to Willie’s grinning face. Before he could react, Willie pulled him down to his level and captured him into a searing kiss. His body moved on its own accord, coaxing them closer and deepening the kiss and allowing that avalanche of emotions to crash into him. These feelings were good. They weren’t supposed to scare him; this was good. Willie was good.     

Fuck it, he was perfect. 

It left him breathless and speechless, lips puckered in a daze and unable to open his eyes once Willie lessened his hold. Their foreheads pressed together instead, an enamoured smile twitching to explode in that goofy way he always mocked Luke for.  

“I like you too, Alex,” he whispered. “A lot.”

He opened his eyes and was met with his bright smile, his own slowly cracking open. Green peered into brown. He could stand here forever, but he knew the boys and Julie were waiting, knew Caleb was on the prowl somewhere. 

Their hands laced together. It didn’t take a lot for Alex to confidently smile at him. Right now, no anxiety could ruin his mood. Willie was here. Willie was safe. Willie liked him - a lot. 

“C’mon,” he said, “I wanna introduce you to someone.”

[tunesscribbles]

Peter Maximoff x Reader  Love Run

(to show that love's worth running to)

Peter's journey from a dumbass teen with thinly veiled commitment issues to a slightly less dumbass adult-ish person (with a range of other issues)

almost 7k words, gender neutral reader, title from ‘Not Yet / Love Run‘

tw: panic attack (begin and end marked with *)

Peter was standing in line with the rest of the X-Men while Mystique and Hank gave them the rundown for the next mission. He was fiddling with his hands behind his back. Today shaped up to become another one of his "Can't-Stay-Still-Even-If-He-Tried"-Days. He reached around Kurt's back to sneakily poke your side. This earned him a stifled squeal as well as a scalding look from Mystique. He retreated his hand quickly while mouthing an unapologetic "Sorry" at Mystique, who only rolled her eyes and turned around to show the team the location on the map. He noticed a movement on his right just in time to dodge your attempt to poke him back. You huffed silently. Peter had to bite the inside of his cheek in order not to grin as Mystique turned back towards them.

(Wait, that's not right. Best to tell a story from the beginning.)

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

He tried to smile, failed. "So like, no problem."

Peter can't hear his own thoughts. He doesn't recognize a word he is saying until it is too late and they already tumbled out of his mouth. For perhaps the first time in his young life, he feels as if the world is moving too fast and rushing by him instead of the other way around. He doesn't know how you two ended up like this. As far as his memories serve, this was just another friday afternoon, but something must have gone terribly wrong because you look like you are going to burst into tears any second now and all signs point to it being his fault.

"Hey, what – what's up with you?" He scrambled to get off of the couch and move over to where you were standing.

"What's up with me?", you repeated incredulously as you took a step back, away from him. Peter stopped his approach in an instand. "You want to know what's up with me, did you even listen to anything I said? Anything you said?", your voice grew louder as you went on and you pointed an accusing finger at him.

Peter threw up his arms in confusion. "Apparantly not!"

You shook your head in dejected disbelief. "I can't believe you-", whatever you wanted to say was interrupted by a choked sob. You were struggling to keep the tears from flowing.

He wants to say something – anything, but hadn't he said enough already? His tongue seems to be stuck to the roof of his mouth, so talking is out of the question anyway.

"You know what the worst thing about this is?", a shaky laugh escaped your throat. "Deep down I knew. I fucking knew there was something off! I just didn't want to believe it, so I didn't ask. God, I should've fucking asked!" You slapped your forehead.

Peter swallowed even though his mouth felt dry. He lifted his hand, as if to touch your shoulder but he dropped it again. "[Name], don't-"

"Shut up! You are such a selfish bastard. I-I don't need this. Goodbye Peter." You turned on your heel and rushed to exit the basement.

"Wait, hold on-"

"Don't worry about it, Peter. No problem, right?" The door slammed shut.

If Peter had known back then that this was the last time he would see your face for years, he probably would have gone after you. (Who is he kidding, he wouldn't have, not at the time.)

(Not the start either, keep going.)

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

"Hey, I like your hair!" His head whipped around to face whoever was talking to him and to see whether they were mocking him or not. They seemed honest enough.

"Thanks, grew it myself." He cracked a smile, which you returned, albeit a bit unsurely.

Might as well. "The name's Peter Maximoff, you are?"

"I'm [Name]."

"Pleased to meet ya." Peter extended his hand towards you but pulled it away right before you could grab it.

(Okay - now fast forward.)

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

"The hell are you doing up here?", you asked after you had to poke your head through the opened skylight to find Peter sitting on the roof.

"I could ask you the same thing." He looked around to find the source of your voice.

"You can't actually.", he heard you remark and rolled his eyes. "Because I am not currently 'up here'." When he looked back over to you, your head had disappeared but he could hear you move around inside.

"Alright then, let me rephrase that: The hell are you doing in there?"

"Got myself a chair.", you replied and reemerged from the window, now more than a head and neck. Peter couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. You grinned as if you were proud of your achievement. He suddenly felt rather warm on his spot on the roof and the afternoon sun had nothing to do with it.

"Do you ever get the sudden urge to sit on your roof?", he asked to answer your initial question and following that opened his arms as if to add: 'So here I am.'

You nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I get that sometimes, but then I remember I don't want to break my neck falling down and die."

"It's not that dangerous, come on!" He waved at you to join him. You did not look very convinced, so he added: "You're not gonna die, don't worry. Even if you should fall, I'll catch you!"

You pondered his proposition for a moment before giving in with a sigh.

He helped you climb up and you talked for a while. During the conversation you must have shifted closer because now your shoulders were pressed together. Should both of you turn to look at each other at the same time, Peter thought, the tips of your noses might just meet in the middle. He was drumming his fingers on the roof tile until you stopped him by taking his hand into yours.

He looked down at your joint hands. Peter could not remember when this thing between you had begun. It was not like he didn't like you, he did (probably more than he realised at the time), but he hoped you knew this was all just fun and goofs. He never meant to lead you on or anything. It was simply second nature, almost, for him to poke and prod when he was curious, to see if he could, to mess around with things (until they break, one might add looking back).

You gave his hand a playful squeeze and he forgot about his worries instantly. Peter grinned, just lopsided enough to convey a hint of mischief. Then with one quick motion he positioned himself so that he went from sitting next to you to leaning over you with one hand on either side of your body.

"What are you grinning at?" Was that a bit of a blush crawling up on your cheeks?

"You, obviously.", he replied in a hushed voice and grinned just a bit wider before leaning further down.

He felt you relax underneath him. Instead of rushing in to steal the kiss, Peter paused as his lips were millimeters away from yours. He found himself drawing out the drumroll, something he usually never did, being way too impatient. Warm breath ghosted over his lips; his heart was beating excitedly. He wanted to drag the moment out a little longer, enjoy the soaring feeling in his chest for another second (like the guitar riff building up to the big reprise).

Suddenly Peter's foot slipped, his eyes went wide, his body slid downwards – until he was caught by your hand on his arm. He let out a breathless whistle.

"We should go back in-"

- "Let's go back inside.", he agreed quickly. "Always preferred my basement anyway."

" 'I'll catch you', my ass!", you muttered as you cautiously made your way back to the window.

(Blah, blah, blah – Alright, jump further.)

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

Peter stopped dead in this tracks when he saw you at Xavier's for the first time. Well, that's one face he expected never to see again, especially not in this place.

"Hey", if he sounded breathless, he could blame it on running.

"Hey", you replied, equally surprised to see Peter again after all these years.

An awkward silence ensued. He had no clue what to say. Was he allowed to ask why you were here? Were there rules for social interactions with your "not-really-but-kind-of"-Ex? (Also, wasn't he supposed to be doing something else?)

"So, what are you up to?", you finally asked, just as he blurted out: "What are you doing here?"

This was going well. "I, uh, I live here. Well, mostly I work here, but I guess I do live here, too.", he answered first.

"You're a teacher?", you seemed surprised. Fair enough, he was, too, some days.

"Part time, yeah." He shuffled his feet.

"Ah, that's nice."

"It is. What are you doing here? I haven't seen you- " (in years) "-around."

"Oh no, I just got here. I'm actually here to talk to the Professor, I have a meeting with him, sort of." For a moment he thought you were going to elaborate but it seemed as if this was all the information he was going to get.

"His office is down the hall, door should be open, so it's hard to miss."

"Thanks.", with that you left him standing in the hallway.

Cool. Coolcoolcoolcool This was a thing now. He turned around to look for you, shook his head and went on to do what he was supposed to, albeit mildly distracted.

(Actually, this might be were it really starts.

Another start to the same story.)

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

Getting to know each other again after a decade was...weird. Peter felt like he should know about things that are complete news to him. (How you were a mutant, too, for example, albeit a late bloomer.) He could still see your teenage self when he looked at you but then the longer he looked, the more you seemed like a stranger in a nostalgic disguise.

At first he tried to avoid you and he could tell you tried the same. However, no matter how fast he could run, the mansion was only so big and there were only so many other people inside it. Also, dodging Ororo's attempts to get you two to talk had become increasingly difficult at some point. So now you were on speaking terms once more and kind of friends? He was still unsure about the last part.

"You've always been reckless, but now I'm starting to think you don't have any sense of self-preservation at all.", you said after Peter told you the story of Apocalypse. The world outside the kitchen window was dark. It had been raining all day and it seemed as if the storm would continue well into the night. Training had been rough, apparently he was not the only one unable to sleep. Somehow coincidentally meeting in the kitchen had turned into exchanging life stories. (Peter managed to ignore the stabbing ache of familiarity for the most part.)

"I'll have you know, I have by far the most sense of self-preservation out of the X-Men, apart from Ororo maybe." He nursed his cup of instant hot chocolate, as if that somehow proved his point.

"Sure, Peter.", you replied and rolled your eyes.

"Hey, I did a lot of maturing in the meantime! Aged like a fine wine in my mom's basement for ten years." Like that was something to be proud of.

You squinted your eyes at him. "You spent all that time in your basement?"

Yes "Nah, just-", he shrugged, "figuratively speaking."

You nodded, not entirely convinced, and took a sip from your own cup. Your face scrunched up. "The instant stuff sucks."

"Slander!," He feigned offence. "Don't you dare! I was raised on-"

"-Instant packages and Twinkies, I know.", you finished the familiar statement with a smile. For a moment it felt like no time had passed at all since late nights at his mother's house. A strong longing overcame him.

"The only things with enough sugar and chemicals to satisfy my needs.", Peter continued but his voice became choked towards the end. This suddenly felt like the bizarre reenactment of a memory. The longing sensation quickly morphed into a familiar ten year old guilt that gnawed away at his insides. (He let it.) In the following silence, the rain plattered loudly against the window.

"I think I'm gonna go back to bed.", you said after a moment passed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight.", he repeated and was relieved the conversation was over before he had the chance to say something really stupid, like: I miss you.

(Fast forward.)

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

"I'm fine.", he said a bit too blatantly not fine. "Just give me two minutes."

You looked at him and hesitated. "Are you sure?"

He wished hearing your voice didn't comfort him as much as it did. Maybe it was less about your voice specifically and rather about having any kind of noise outside his own head.

"You can go." Please don't leave, don't fucking leave him here-

His thoughts must have gone through to you because you stayed.

"I don't think you should be alone right now.", you said after a moment of consideration and moved to sit down in front of him. "Is this okay?"

He doesn't know what to say, how to form words at all, so he simply nods.

"Do you want to talk about it?", you offered.

Peter swallowed and managed to glance up at you. "No.", his voice sounded so small.

It was your turn to nod. "That's alright, you don't have to. Just, try to take deep breaths, okay?"

You exaggerated your own breathing to make it easier for him to follow along. He doesn't know how much time passed while he tried to get his breathing pattern to some semblance of normal, but eventually, he got there.

And you were still there with him. Sitting on the floor in the laundry room. Nothing made sense.

He wants, but he can't have it, wouldn't know what to do with it if he had it. For the fraction of a moment, he thought kissing you would be a nice and absolutely horrifying idea.

"Do you think we would've had a chance if I hadn't been a jerk about it?", he asked instead, not quite sane yet but trying at least.

"I don't know, Peter. Would we have been anything to begin with if you hadn't been a jerk about it?", you countered with a hint of bitterness.

He laughed but there was no humor in it. "Probably not."

"Is this what's troubling you?" The bitterness made way for more concern and Peter kind of wanted to cry.

"No, it's--"

He briefly considered just spilling all his guts right then. To just lay it all out for you to see and decide which parts of him were worth keeping. To have someone else make sense of this mess.

Peter sighed and gestured vaguely with one hand. "it's a part of it but not--There's a whole thing and I don't know what to do about any of it." He looked at you as if in search of an answer, even though he knew he couldn't expect that from you.

"Have you tried taking the 'thing' apart and going at it that way?"

"I--haven't. Where would I even start?" (Basements, rooftops, prisons, deserts, mansions--)

"Is Erik a part of it?" The name made him freeze up.

"I've noticed you become much--quieter, less like yourself when he's around.", you explained and Peter is stuck on the fact that you noticed. Was he that obvious?

"I--It's not, it's nothing--", he sputtered, not knowing what he wanted to say at all. No, he didn't want to say anything. For some reason the possibility of you knowing scared him more than anything else at the moment.

"Mystique told me." you continued a bit sheepishly, "I asked her about you and she, she told me about Erik."

"Oh my god," he groaned, all fear forgotten in his annoyance. "At the speed she's running her mouth, I'm surprised he doesn't know yet!" He burrowed his head in his hands. You gave him the time to compose himself, which he was thankful for.

He lifted his head a little to catch sight of your expression as he quietly asked: "What do you think?" - about Erik, about Peter, about what this made Peter, about-

You took a deep breath before replying. "I think you should tell him if only to get some peace of mind because you are clearly lacking that at the moment. This could be a start."

He hates that you are right, he hates that everyone except himself is always right about everything in his life.

"Hey," You took hold of his wrist and brushed your thumb over the inside in a soothing manner. "You don't have to do it alone. We're all here for you if you need us, be it to talk to Erik or to tackle any other part of your 'thing'." He felt like he did not deserve the softness in your eyes.

You got up to beginn putting the laundry you brought with you into the washing machine. "I do think you should talk to someone more professional about this, too. Like the professor or the counsellor the others mentioned."

"Yeah, I'll look into it.", he lied.

(Turn back just a bit and let it run.)

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

Peter felt not unlike a cassette tape with its magnetic band spilling out.

*He's unsure what sent him over the edge, maybe the fact that Erik visited the school - well, the Professor, he's only ever here for the Professor and Peter can't even blame him because Erik doesn't know any better – or maybe that last conversation with you that left him confused and aching but he doesn't understand, this is over, long over and he was the one who put the nail on the coffin, or maybe the counselling Ororo and Jean kept recommending to him even though it has been a year since Apocalypse happened and he's fine or maybe, maybe this was a long time coming anyway.

He was hiding in the laundry room. (No one went here, unless they had to.)

His body was visibly shaking, damn near vibrating. In the back of his mind he kept thinking the force of the vibration could rattle the foundation so much that the entire building will come crashing down on him. It would be kind of cool, if it wasn't also a dumb way to die. And he really did not want to think about ways to die.

(Desert, ruins, magnetic fields, snap—crack—twist) – Here we go again.

He reached up to grip his hair--something to ground him--and that immediately made it ten times worse. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and fumbled for his walkman instead, only to remember he left it in his room. He cursed silently.

He could go and get it, no one would see him. (He would still see other people, though.)

Just back and forth, wouldn't take any time at all. (He doesn't think he can get up, maybe his leg's still fucked up-)

Peter cursed again; it came out as a sob. He curled up more tightly and pressed his forehead against his knees.

How everyone can be so calm about any of this was beyond his understanding. People died, a lot of people, he saw the news. He had called his mother after the apocalypse. He had never heard her sound so scared before. ('Where are you? Are you okay? What happened? Did you tell him? Did he hurt you?') The last two still circle around in his head. Did you tell him?Did you tell him?Did you tell him?- How could he have? The man was literally tearing the world apart as they spoke, did Peter really want to admit being his son? Did he want that kind of connection? Did he hurt you?- No, he did stand by and watch Peter get hurt, though.

His knee jerked almost reflexively. He had never felt so helpless before, so trapped--except maybe right now, stuck in a mansion filled with so many relationships that aren't what they could be--He's not stuck, he can leave anytime. If he wanted, he could get up and run as fast as he can. They would never get him. - Would they even look for him? Or would they be glad he was gone? After all, only one person had seemed to care enough to step when Apocalypse had him by his hair. (He can't blame the kids, they didn't even know him. He can't blame anyone, it was fucking Apocalypse-) What if Mystique hadn't stepped in? What if Erik hadn't switched sides last minute? He would be dead, same as most of the world's population. Would that be better than dealing with the fallout?--The sudden thought terrifies him.--But would it?--No.

Faintly, he hears a door open and just hopes whoever entered won't--

"Oh, Peter. What are you doing down here?" He must make quite the sad sight cowering next to the washing machine, hugging his knees and back pressed to the cold basement wall. "Are you alright? Should I call someone?"

He tried to suppress his shivering and get enough air into his aching lungs to form words.*

"I'm fine.", he said a bit too blatantly not fine. "Just give me two minutes."

(We know it from here, skip ahead.)

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

The night before, the X-men had drunkenly built a blanket-fort in the mansion's main living room area. It had been a lot of fun and a lot of chaos, but that was not the part of last night's memories Peter kept replaying in his head. He may have been very drunk at that point and the details were fuzzy, but he knew for sure that it had happened. (--quick breaths, warm lips, tracing hands--) His face flushed at the memory.

On the stairs leading down to the training area, he finally ran into you after more than half a day spent either actively looking for or avoiding you. (When he first caught a glimpse of you, he almost let his flight instinct take over.)

You were going down, he was going up and now you were both in each other's way.

"Hey, [Name].", he said in a voice that could pass as steady. His heart was beating out of his chest.

Your expression looked pained and you tried your best to hide it by avoiding eye contact.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow?" you sounded tired in a way that caught yourself off guard. The "or never" was well implied.

Peter thought about giving in and letting go, but what good would it do to continue this state of charged awkwardness? What good would it do to try and keep this ache behind his lungs under lock and key when you seemingly felt the same? He shook his head.

You sighed. "I--we drank a lot and--"

I adore you, he thought and shoved that sentiment down as quickly as he could. It's what has gotten him into this mess in the first place.

Blood thrumming in his veins, he summoned all his courage (or perhaps all his recklessness). "I'm sorry." He said and something inside him felt like it was about to topple over. "I never apologized for what I did and I want you to know that I am sorry."

Now you were looking at him. Surprise, hurt and so much more.

"And I want you to know that I-," he had to look away, unable to deal with this part head-on, "I've changed since then." (Is it still lying when he himself wants it to be true? Yes.)

A plop, you've let yourself sink to the floor to sit down on the stairs. You hit his leg. "No, you don't just get to do that. That's not--" You cut yourself off.

He kneeled down in front of you. Dark brown eyes met tear-stained ones. For the first time it occurred to him that you could be just as scared.

"It's been so long, I shouldn't still be hung up about this! God, I feel so stupid." You buried your face in your hands.

Peter tried not to shake as he took your hands in his. "You're not stupid, at least not stupider than me. We both know that'd be a challenge!" He smiled and you let out a chuckle despite yourself. "We can be hung up about it together if you want?"

"Are you sure? Because I can't do all that again, I won't."

He gave your hands a squeeze. "I am, and we--we don't have to jump into this, we can take it slow." (Loophole)

You looked at him for a moment, searching, thinking. A slow smile spread across your face.

When you pulled him in for a kiss, it was like he saw the sun after spending days inside. He could get drunk off of just this.

(Let it roll for a bit.)

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

Peter caught the water bottle you threw his way.

Endurance training had been on today's schedule, so Peter let the students run laps on the compound while he zipped from runner to runner to offer encouragement and telling them how much longer they needed to go. It had gone well, some kids had to give up before the end but no one had to be brought to the nurse (Hank).

"It's still strange seeing you as a teacher."

"Wow, thanks for all this faith you're putting in me." He passed the bottle back to you.

"You can wrap that sarcasm back up, I was gonna say you're a good teacher. It's just funny to me because you were hardly present at school back then, but I guess that has nothing to do with the ability to teach." You put your hand on his shoulder. "You're great at what you do."

"Yeah, well," he felt heat rush up to his face, "...I try."

You smiled fondly at him and kissed his cheek. "I know."

Something about this little interaction made him feel like that time he tried to swallow a Twinkie in whole and it got lodged in his throat. He tried to form a coherent reply but the words were not coming.  Your hand fell from his shoulder and he was oddly dejected and relieved at the same time (the latter made him feel guilty without knowing why).

This was what he wanted, the--(intimacy)--relationship-y stuff, then why did it put him so on edge? After all, it wasn't that different from how you used to be before he had officially messed it up, right? - Wrong. This was no "fun-and-goofs"-make-pretend, this was the real deal, he agreed to it. He was going to do it right this time around. He was going to be a good--(boyfriend?partner?lover?)-- He was going to be good. He could do this, he wanted to.

You took his hand into yours and let them swing back and forth for a bit. "Everything okay?"

Peter smiled down at the way your hands touched. "Yeah, I'm good." He just wished he didn't want to run away, too.

"Did you have lunch yet? Because I'm starving! We can see what's in the kitchen.", you suggested.

"Sounds like a plan. You go ahead, I just gotta take care of some teacher-business.", he slipped his hand out of your grasp to pick up his stopwatch.

"Okay, I'll see you in a moment then.", he did not pick up on your questioning undertone.

"Yeah.", he said and left. (He didn't join you for lunch, even though he felt terrible about it.)

(Jump ahead.)

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

It was bound to happen eventually.

"You don't seem happy." - "Neither do you."

He should've known you could not go on like that forever. Maybe this was never a forever sort of thing.

"You keep avoiding me and I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, I'm not-"

"If you try and deny it, I swear to god!"

He winced then, guilty. You sighed.

"You need to talk to me about these things, I can't help you if you shut me out." almost pleading.

"I'm fine," he insisted. All senseless stubbornness.

It didn't get better after that. How could it?

"I just--I've had enough, Peter. I don't need a repeat of our teenage years!" You were stressed and angry and willing to hurt, the worst combination.

"I'm trying!" He wasn't much better off.

"Are you?"

"Yes! I'm trying my best!"

"Maybe that's not good enough!", your voice broke on the last syllable.

He threw his arms up. "Well, what do you want me to do then?"

"I—I'm just sick of you letting me dangle in the air, okay? I'm sick of everything being up in the air!"

(Skip, Skip, Skip - There had to be a way to get past this.) Cold anger was worse, always worse.

"When you apologized, you told me you changed."

"I have!" He said, but didn't believe it himself.

"You got better but you're still the same in the worst places."

Something finally tipping over. "You act like it was all my fault, as if you never did anything wrong!"

"I didn't know-"

"You said you knew! You knew but never asked because then you would've had to make an effort." Spitting acid.

"That's completely different!" Voice growing louder, too.

"You told me I didn't care enough. You left as soon as things stopped being all sunshine!" When had he started shouting?

"I was a teenager, okay? A dumb fucking teenager!"

"What do you think I was?" Silence ringing in his head for days.

(Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip-)

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

He just finished wrapping up things on his end and was about to check in with the rest of the team. It was this deceptive part of the mission right before the end when everything feels like smooth sailing and you almost forget it is not quite over yet.

"Quicksilver here, everything's done on my end, how's it looking?"

Scott answered: "That's good. The situation looks stable so far, meet-up at-"

A scream pierced through his comms and Peter felt his blood run cold.

"What happened?"

"Guys-", your voice came through distorted, "we---we forgot---"

Static. The line was dead.

(Too far, rewind.)

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

It was just another friday afternoon.

Last week the attempted assassination of the president may have sent the nation into a panic but the past is the past, right? (Apart from the fact that Peter played a minor role in said past and even farther apart from the confession his mother dropped on him the other day, turns out there aren't that many guys who control metal - Nope, not going there. ) Just another friday afternoon.

All the agitated energy that had been cursing through his veins for weeks and caused him to jump at the opportunity to do anything interesting, anything to keep him busy – (Even prison break? But come on, the Pentagon!) - all that energy was back now, except it was not quite the same, was it? Last week he had a lot less on his conscience. (Last week he didn't know his father, holy shit-) If he was cruising for a bruising then, what does that make him now?

Either way, the last thing he needed right then was-

"Peter, we need to talk.", you said gravely after standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.

"Is that so?" His eyes remained glued to the screen of his stolen arcade machine. You had been eerily quiet so far and that conversation opener rarely lead to anything pleasant. Maybe if he didn't look at you, then-

"Peter. We need to talk." The repetition somehow made it sound even worse. "And I need you to listen, actually listen, okay?"

I don't know if I can, he wanted to say, but didn't. Instead he turned around to look at you.

The expression on your face reminded him of his mum, right before she told him. You looked like what you were about to say would hurt, both of you. Don't say it then, he wanted to interject, as if not saying it could somehow stop it from becoming real. There was something else there too, besides the dread. Something like morbid curiosity, which is why instead he said: "Go on then, I'm all ears!"

You took a deep breath. "I think we should break up."

Say what now?

"I like you a lot Peter, I do, but I don't feel like you...I feel like you don't really care about our relationship. You've been weirdly distant and we never really talk about what's up, it's just-" You sighed, clearly frustrated with yourself for being unable to explain.

Oh. No, that's- that's not-

- "Our relationship?", he interrupted. (Someone give him something to do, something that isn't this. Aren't there any prisons left to break into?)

"Yes. Our relationship.", you confirmed with an edge of confusion.

"Who said I was your boyfriend?" A pause, like he was watching his life on VHS and finally found the remote. Just in time to be a little too late. (He was sensing a pattern here...)

The series of emotions washing over your expression were difficult for him to read. Confusion seemed to win out for the moment. "What? Peter, we have been-"

"We haven't been anything." The blood in his veins felt like it was slowly freezing, trapping what's left of his energy inside, leaving him completely still. Even his knee stopped bouncing.

"Are you serious right now? After all the- you've got to be kidding me!", an edge of desperation crept into your voice.

(Eject, eject, eject- That's not how it works.)

"I'm not." Good God, what is he saying? Someone tell him what the hell he's talking about because he sure as fuck doesn't know.  "And we're not. In a relationship, I mean. Never were, never will be if I caught your drift there." He swallowed, found it much harder than it used to be. "If this is about what we did the last couple of-" He didn't know, he didn't know anything anymore, "-whatever, don't worry about it. It doesn't mean--not like that anyway."

He tried to smile, failed. "So like, no problem."

(Not this far back. We know how that ends.)

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

Peter had prepared himself for anything when you asked him to meet you after dinner. Anything, except an apology.

A small "What?" fell from his lips. The rain pattering against the windows was almost loud enough to drown it out.

"I'm sorry, Peter," you repeated. "I'm so, so sorry for all the awful things I said and did and-"

This didn't make any sense, stop, stop, stop- "Stop. I-," He sputtered for a moment, feeling like he missed something. (He didn't deserve this.) "I don't, I don't get it." was what he settled on. "Why are you apologising?"

"Why shouldn't I apologise to you, Peter?", you sounded so concerned and sad and-- It didn't make any sense.

Peter threw his arms up. "You were right! About everything!" He could feel the hysteria setting in, he didn't care.

"No, no that's not-"

"I never changed, I didn't try hard enough, I should've talked to you more, I should've--I--I-"

You grabbed his hands out of the air to hold them in a tight grip. "No! I was wrong, Peter." You held onto his hands for a moment until his breathing calmed down a little. Then you loosened your grip again and sighed. "We can't keep going like this."

Peter let his hands slip from your grasp. "So you'll leave?" (Again)

"No, I want us to fix this!", frustration with an edge of desperation. "We have to talk about this for once."

Peter looked down at his silver running shoes. "What's there to talk about?"

You laughed, it was a wet, ugly sound. "You're doing it again, I can't--I don't know what to do when you get like this!"

He swallowed around the growing lump in his throat. "Like what?"

"I feel like you're always halfway out the door." It felt like the fight with Apocalypse all over again. Your words ripped him out of his element and forcefully brought him back to reality. He almost expected someone to knock his leg out from under him. "You're never fully in but you don't want to leave either."

What could he say to that? What could he possibly say when it's the truth? Ready to run at the drop of a shoe, be it ten years ago in a basement stocked to the ceiling with stolen goods or now in a mansion filled with mutant kids who turn to him for advice.

"In my defense, " God, his voice was shaking. When's that punch gonna come and twist his arm? "do you have any idea how easy it is to run away when you're better at it than everyone else? Running away is literally my specialty!"

You cradled his face in your hands. "You are so much more than that."

The tears stinging his eyes began to blur his vision. "How? I'm scared all the time, I'm fucking terrified!"

"And that's okay!" You searched his eyes for some sign your words got through to him. "It's okay to be scared."

He kissed you then, trembling and filled with fear. He pulled back a moment later, brushing away tears with one hand. "Even if it's this I'm scared of?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise."

"That isn't your fault."

You continued as if you hadn't heard him. "All this time, I was still angry at you, I held on to that anger instead of trying to understand why." You tried not to sob and took a deep breath. "So when you asked me to give you another chance, part of me expected the worst to happen again. I didn't question it when you got distant. I just let it get worse because I already thought this was what's gonna happen anyway."

The rain stopped falling a while ago. The resulting silence felt like a lifetime. "So did I." His voice barely more than a whisper.

"You-" Eyes went wide, tears welled up and spilled over. "Why would you do that? Why would you put yourself in-"

"I don't know." Peter shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he repeated. The self-deprecating chuckle died in his throat when he finally looked at you again. "I guess, I missed you."

Wordlessly, you pulled him into an embrace, twisting your hands in the back of his leather jacket. Peter was startled for a second, then he returned the hug.

"I missed you, too," you mumbled, face buried in his shirt, "and I don't want to keep on missing you when you're right here." His arms tightened their grib around you involuntarily.

Resolution flooded his veins and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "We'll get better."

(Now forward.)

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

For a while neither of you spoke. Just two people, sitting on the roof, enjoying the view and breathing lungs full of crisp evening air. Peter looked over at you, watched your profile in the dimming daylight and found a thought cross his mind: I could get used to this. Followed by: I think I may already be.

Your face turned. "What are you smiling at?", you asked even though you were smiling, too.

"You, obviously." You pushed his grinning face away with your hands.

Peter laughed lightheartedly. "Careful! You're gonna push me off the roof!"

"Don't tempt me."

He stole a peck. "Wouldn't dream of it."

For a moment he remembered a different interaction on a different roof a decade ago, though for once he did not feel the need to ruminate on it.

He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. Right now, the world for Peter began and ended where his body touched yours, from the soothing press of your head against his own, to your intertwined hands and the line where your thighs brushed against each other.

Forever did not scare him anymore.

(Pause here - just for a moment.

Okay.)

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

His thoughts are racing as he speeds through unfamiliar hallways. What did they forget? What did they forget? Everything was going so well, what did they forget?

It's already over when he gets there. Nothing greets him but rubble where the failed portal used to loom over a secret laboratory. Peter shouts your name. No one answers.

He's turning over every piece of scrap metal by the time the rest of the x-men arrive, on the off chance that you're still there, just buried underneath some debris, alive, not gone. Someone is pulling on his arm, talking to him. None of the words register. Finally he is pulled back by someone stronger. The metal beam floating in the air mid-fall above where he stood a moment ago sinks to the ground.

"Peter," it's Erik, his father is talking to him, "Charles and Hank are figuring out the portal, we'll get them back." Peter looks at him but stares right through. He's more terrified than he's ever been.

(Don't let this be the end. Go back.

One more time.)

[mickmarstookmyheart]

"Would you be my date?"

Pairing: Mick Mars X Reader

Summary: You are working for the Crüe as a make up artist. There is an upcoming wedding...

"Hold still, damnit!" You murmured trying to finish Vince's makeup just before the concert.

"Oh, come on, (Y/N)! Hurry up!" He pouted closing his eyes to let you do your job.

"If I hurry you won't be pretty."

"There is no such thing as me not being pretty."

"Sure." You said drawing back and looking at him, admiring the make-up you did. Though you didn't understand why you had to make Vinnie look like a girl and put on him pink colors. He stood up and looked in the mirror to see himself.

"Cool. Thanks (Y/N)!" He yelled while leaving the area. Working with them consumed most of your time, but it didn't bother. Even if they were sometimes pain in the ass they were all kind and funny. They treated you well, they never hurt you. You have been working for them since the 'Bark at the moon' tour with Ozzy.

"Break legs!" You yelled back looking at the mess on the table. Makeup everywhere including on your hand and shirt. Since you were ready with all of them you decided to change clothes. You quickly took off your shirt to change it to a cleaner one.

Mick was walking in the hallway already in his costume. He wanted to ask you to adjust his makeup due to the clothing had ruined it a bit. He opened the door and gasped seeing you there without a shirt. When you heard the door cracking you gasped. You looked at him with a red face covering yourself with your tee.

"Omg, I'm so sorry." He blushed and quickly closed the door back, standing in the corridor with his back facing the door. He covered his mouth with a hand. You were embarrassed, standing in the room now with your shirt on. You and Mick were kinda okay, you hardly had any fights. The others were always flirting with you even though you had a crush on Mick. And he, seeing you like this just made your heart pound fast. Mick was about to leave when you opened the door for him.

"Look, (Y/N), I didn't know. I'm sorry. I didn't see a lot, I promise." Mick said wishing he could see more.

"No problem, I should've locked the door. What's up? Is there a problem?" You asked putting your hands in your pocket to hide your still shaking hands.

"Umm, I think my costume ruined my face a bit. Can you fix it, please?" You nodded and invited him in. He sat down so you could see the damage.

"A minute and you will be ready to kick some ass." You said while taking the brush in your hand. You managed to relax but being this close to him. You could feel his breath and smell his scent. Mick also had some problems...Your light touch on his face and everything about you. "Done." You announced and put the brush back to its place. Mick leaned closer to the mirror to see your perfect work.

"Now it's perfect. Thanks. And sorry about earlier." He rubbed the back of his head.

"Chill. Nothing happened." You said it rather to yourself. "Anyway, here is your shirt." He picked it up from the floor you dropped it earlier. He tossed it to you and you caught it easily.

Nikki, Vince, and Tommy were standing in the corner and were leaning on the door to hear what you were doing in there.

"Shirt, huh?" Vince grinned. "I told you something was up between them."

"Are you sure, Vinnie? We just only heard the word shirt. It could mean anything."

"I hope they are together. They would look cute." Tommy said smiling. Vince turned to him raising one of his eyebrows.

"They don't look cute. And I can't believe she chose Mick over me. She can be with me or anyone else, but not that old man." Vince put his head closer to the door when Mick opened the door and they all fell on Mick and you.

"What the fuck, man?" You cursed rubbing your head. Mick was laying on the top of you and the boys on your leg.

"Nice sock!" Vince said earning a kick in his arm from you.

"Get off me! And what were you all doing?" You asked still under the weight of the guitarist. He supported himself on his elbows not to press you any more. He was facing you. You cleared your throat and he rolled over. You stood up and crossed your arms.

"We were...we were just..." Nikki said looking at Tommy to help him out.

"We made sure that all the doors were soundproof so we can also fuck groupies back here after the concert," Vince said being proud of himself.

"Yeah, of course. Sounds believable." You hummed.

"There you are. Guys, it's time to go!" Doc yelled pointing at his watch. After the band and Doc left the room except for Mick, you sighed and sat down in the chair.

"(Y/N), I would like to apologize.." Mick started.

"Hey, it's not your fault." You said rubbing your wrist. It hurt a little bit is was nothing you couldn't handle.

"Did you hit your arm?" Mick noticed. He knew how it was being in pain.

"A bit. But I'm okay. Don't worry." You winked.

"Are you free tomorrow?" Mick asked finally gathering the courage after months. You blinked from the sudden question.

"What?" You asked maybe you didn't hear it properly.

"Do you want to have coffee tomorrow? I would like to make up the things that happened today."

"Yeah, sure. I mean, why not?" You mumbled still not believing Mick just asked a date from you. Well, it was a date, no?

"Great. See you tomorrow then." He headed towards the door before giving you a half-smile.

"I think I will stay until the concert goes down. So go and have fun." You smirked and followed him.

Next day

"Can I have a week off, Boss?" You asked Doc sitting in his temporary office. You showed him your wrist which was swollen and was covered with a bandage.

"That looks bad. But don't worry, Anna can do it for you."

"Thanks."

"And what happened?" He asked reading his papers.

"Well, it would be complicated to explain but in a nutshell, I fell on my wrist."

"Complicated to explain?" He glanced at you with a confused look.

"Mick fell on me." Doc's eyes widened. "No, it's not that. The boys fell on Mick and then on me."

"What?" He was in complete shock.

"Don't think any wrong. The boys were eavesdropping us but then Mick opened the door."

"Whatever." You could see that he didn't believe you. "Anything else?"

"I think I should go. And thanks, Doc!" You said before exiting the room. You felt embarrassed, but nothing wrong happened. The whole situation was odd.

∆

"Nice job, idiots. You managed to ruin (Y/N)'s job." Mick snapped after seeing your hand.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It wasn't our intention." Tommy apologized.

"It's okay. Doc said that Anna will hop in until I recover so I didn't lose my job, I just got a week off." You said.

"Well, I'm glad you can rest a bit." Mick stated. Vince was narrowing his eye and was looking at you and Mick.

"Is everything alright, Vinnie?" You asked.

"No."

"Care to explain?"

"Nope." Your brows drew together. Then he left huffing. What the fuck was with him?

"Anyway, guys I have good news." Tommy cheered. "I proposed to Heather."

"Tommy, that's great. Congrats" You said hugging him.

"She is a great girl, T-Bone! Congratulations!" Nikki said patting the drummer's back.

"Thanks, guys. I still couldn't believe she said yes. Anyway, Sixx, you are my best man and you are all invited!" He yelled.

"What do you mean by all?" You asked.

"Why?" He asked confused.

"You mean that I'm invited, too?"

"Of course, you will do Heather's make up." You pouted. "Just kidding. It's not even a question, (Y/N)! Don't be stupid." He said giving you a big hug.

"Thanks, Tommy." You smiled. You didn't think he would invite you as well. You were just a makeup artist working for the band, after all. Not some musician or family.

∆

You and Mick were sitting in a lovely café near the hotel. There was hardly anyone there so it was pretty quiet.

"Jimmy Hendrix or Angus Young?"

"Jimmy Hendrix. Not even a question." Mick said taking a sip from his coffee.

"But you have to admit Angus's riffs are pretty good, too."

"I didn't say that he isn't good."

"So how this guitar thing come to your life?" You asked wrapping your healthy hand around the hot cup.

"Well, when I was a child I got a guitar from Christmas with Mickey Mouse on it. Since then I couldn't separate myself from it. The guitar became an important part of me and vice versa."

"So that's were 'Mick' comes from?" You asked chuckling. He rolled his eyes but then his lips curved into a smile.

"Partly, yes. But don't tell those assholes. They would call me that from now on."

"Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." You were looking at each other's eyes for a moment. Mick cleared his throat and you could see he was about to say something.

"Nice weather, right?" He asked. That's not the question you were thinking of.

"I like the rain." You said looking out of the window and watching all the drops running down the window. It was calming to be there, to drink coffee and have a nice talk with him. When you put down the cup you put your hand on your bandaged wrist.

"Does your wrist hurt?"

"No. And I have already told you not to worry about it." You sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be harsh like that.

"Can I ask something?" Mick felt his heart racing, he tried his best to calm down. You nodded and glanced at him waiting for the question. "Would you be my date? For Tommy's wedding." He bit his lip down.

"What? I mean, don't you have a girlfriend to bring?" Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't know much about his personal life but you were sure he had someone. After all, it was just an apologizing talk, not a real date.

"Not really." He smirked and looked out of the window. You gulped, you were in shock, not believing he didn't have a girlfriend.

"Why me?" You whispered.

"Cause you are great. You are super talented, kind, and funny. You are always so insecure about yourself but you are amazing." Mick said holding your hand in his.

"Really?" You sniffed. In your whole life, in school and even at home you were told that you are nothing and you are worthless. You knew it wasn't completely true, but it still affected your life. 

"See? That's what I'm talking about. Be confident because you have every right." He smiled squeezing your hand.

"Then, I would be glad to go with you." You said shyly.

Tag: @leatherandheels

This wasn't what I originally planned and I think it sucks but here it is. Also, sorry guys for not doing anything lately, I just had an almost week-long headache and I stayed away from my phone for a bit.

By the way, I'm gonna take request from next week so hit me with your requests, desires!

Be safe, be happy!

[samwrights]

Besitos - Punk!AU [Kuroo]

This is a continuation of Elixir. If you haven’t read the prologue, you can find that [here]. Enjoy the first part of Kuroo’s route! Images are not mine—pulled from Pinterest and google. If we find the artist, please let me know so I can tag them!

Author note: Song lyrics are shown in lines by themselves. Italicized lyrics are sung by you, while bolder lyrics are song by one of the boys. For which boy is singing, as it can get a little confusing, his name is mentioned before the lyrics.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, use of nicotine, and not so subtle hints of cheating.

Word count: 4,416

Song used: Besitos by Pierce The Veil

A complementary playlist can be found  »  here

“Actually, can we run Besitos again? We did okay, but I would really like to not be out of breath half way through.” Despite choosing this song as the opening, it was extremely challenging. You weren’t as adept at playing guitar as Kuroo and, while he wrote it so that your parts were simple, it was still difficult for you to add your charisma to the vocals. You were hesitant on opening with it at all, but the piece gave you the punch that your band was looking for. The work itself was a masterpiece and you made sure to tell your guitarist that. But very rarely did Elixir utilize not only you and Makki for vocals, but Kuroo himself as well was featured in pieces that had screaming. That, in addition to two guitars for a layered sound and a fast tempo, proved to be a challenge even after practicing for months.

Kuroo looked thrilled when you announced that was what you wished to work on—he put his whole heart into this song and it was obvious. After securing your guitar around your shoulders, he hands you a pick which you use to test out each of your strings. Ensuring they were tuned once again, you gave Terushima a thumbs up to start the beat with the fast roll of the snare drums. The rest of followed suit playing your respective riffs and licks before you started with your first verse, Makki’s one line of vocals adding an underlying harmony that converged seamlessly.

Better not get back up I spit my heart into this red cup

Timing was crucial in this song, to keep up with the pace. If even off for a second, on vocals especially, could throw the flow of the song, especially on yours and Kuroo’s parts. A favored element in this song that you’d never thought you would say was highlighting Makki’s vocal range, as he sang his line in a key higher than yours. According to the writer, Kuroo added in these bits and pieces to give your diaphragm a break, to which you were incredibly grateful for. The chorus was a slightly slower pace than the rest of the song which also granted you reprieve, as was one of Makki’s spoken word lines.

True love comes from more than just the heart.

By the second verse, you had grown more comfortable in your skin. Seeing as you had slightly less guitar parts in this moment, you had opted to move around like you would on stage, cradling your microphone in your hand. Was it a little weird having the girlfriends in the same room as you paraded around on your makeshift stage? Yes. Did you feel the glares coming from them as you leaned dangerously close to Makki while the bassist gave his gentle hums of backing vocals? Also yes. Did you give two fucks about any of it?

Absolutely not.

All you could feel was the electricity coursing through your veins as the song gave you the energy you were in desperate need for. Perhaps this was the reason you felt that the song was off—your first run through didn’t feel as right as this one did. The art of performance was missing, as you screwed around with your mates like you would during any other show. And for a song that showcased Elixir’s many talents from Terushima’s flawless ability to keep a beat regardless of subtle changes, to Makki’s own vocal abilities, to the fact that Kuroo knew his band so well and knew how to push the envelope, you needed to bring the performance.

The second chorus encapsulated all of the above traits, as the beat slowed down by a minuscule margin while Makki actually got to show off a bass solo, which Kuroo supported the groove by clapping in rhythm before transitioning into his small screaming section. Terushima slowed down the ground as we entered the final bridge—your favorite part: a spoken word section in which you and Makki teetered back and forth.

A diamond bullet and a gun made of gold She was covered in blood last seen in San Francisco.

If you’ve said it once, you’ve said six hundred times: Tetsurō Kuroo was a mad genius. He gave one more dignified bellow before the tempo was back at full speed, your fingers rushing to keep up with how much fun you’d been having prancing around. The four of you entered the final chorus, the additional line was your final line in the song to drive home another lyrical moment that you wanted to highlight forever before focusing on your outro solo.

You know I’ve never held a gun in my life But now I carry one around in case I see you tonight.

The boys closed out the last lines while you once again moved around, this time standing back to back with Kuroo as your fingers danced along your guitar strings to close out the song.

“Now that is what it’s supposed to sound like!” Kuroo cried out, overwhelmed with joy for a moment to hear his vision come to life.

“That was so fucking sick, dude!” You cried out, simultaneously putting your guitar off to the side to give Kuroo the hug he deserved. One that involved picking up your smaller frame by comparison off the ground and giving you a little twirl, which prompted a glare from his girlfriend but you couldn’t be bothered at the moment. Well, couldn’t be bothered until not only her but all of the girlfriends, whose names you still didn’t know, came to stand in front of the two of you and cleared your throat.

“I have to get going, Tetsurō.” She says while the other two are saying their own farewells. Maybe it should have come as a shock to you that she didn’t state a reason, or even more so that Kuroo didn’t even bother to ask.

“Cool, I’ll call ya later.” The raven haired boy says instead, pressing a brief kiss to her cheek, not even bothering to walk them out. They knew where the door was. “Alright, shall we continue?” You made a face at Kuroo, not wanting to announce the elephant in the room. But as soon as he caught the look, he rolled his eyes at you. “What?”

“Y’all ain’t even gonna walk ‘em out the door, huh?”

“Shut up, [name].”

“I’m just saying.” You said dramatically, walking to the mini fridge next to the stairs to grab yourself another beer.

“Yeah, yeah we’re shitty boyfriends.” Makki drawls. “Can we move on now? It’s been two hours and we’ve played three songs.”

“Four!” Teru counters.

“The same song twice doesn’t count. We still have six more songs to get through.” Kuroo spat out, taking a quit hit of his vape that was in his front right pocket.

“Alright, alright. Let’s move on from the songs we already did then.” You set your beer down at the foot of your microphone stand—a terrible idea, really considering you stomped around like a child throwing a tantrum. Especially considering the following song in the set list was another fast pace, thrasher type of song born of Terushima’s overactive imagination. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have put that beer there, as you had to clean up the spill when you had inevitably ended up knocking it over. While doing so, the two stoners of the group had retreated to the backyard to smoke another bowl while you and Kuroo stayed behind to clean the mess. “Hey, Tetsu. You good man?” You asked when you heard the sliding door close upstairs.

“Yeah? Why?”

“I dunno, just checking on you, I guess.”

“This about earlier?” His hazel eyes followed your form as you tossed the soaked paper towels into the nearby bin. Though his head was down, focused on making sure the alcohol didn’t stain the carpet, you gave a shrug in response. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“If you say so.” You concede, holding a hand out to pull him off the floor. Sluggishly, the other two walked in, eyes redder than Kuroo’s old Nekoma shirt that still somehow fit him despite having it for ten years. “Ah, great. We should wrap up practice before Cheech and Chong forget how to play their instruments.”

“Hey, I resent that!” Terushima jeered, swinging his drumsticks in his fingers. “I play just fine when I’m high!” You and Kuroo looked at each other before belting out a guffaw before the aforementioned guitarist grabbed his acoustic.

“Alright, alright come on ya dilltwats. We have a show tomorrow in case you forgot.” Despite the jab at the two boys who were now suiting up once again, Kuroo grabbed a nearby stool to sit in while you played your one acoustic piece, written by Hanamaki who acted as the primary vocalist for the song. And with your leisure time, you opted to squeeze yourself onto the wooden stool with Tetsu, cautious not to bump him while he played his guitar. When your harmony’s came up, you didn’t move, instead staring at Makki while the two of you sang to each other. Kuroo listened carefully, making sure you both were keeping time with him and Teru, all the while wishing you were singing to him instead. Thankfully, the rest of the set went by relatively smooth, considering they were older songs the four of you had already mastered and didn’t require as much finessing or fine tuning.

The clock struck 9pm, meaning that the four of you actually needed to end practice to be respectful towards Yūji’s parents who were going to be heading to bed soon. Before parting ways, you loaded up your band’s shitty little van with all the equipment you were going to need for tomorrow night’s show. After closing the door to the van and locking with padlocks, Makki perched an arm atop the crown of your head, his towering height allowing him to do so with ease. “Teru and I are going on a blunt cruise, you coming with, mom?” He asks, bending down and forward to gauge your reaction.

“How did I become the mom friend? I tell you all to fuck off and die like every three seconds.”

“You literally held off going to college for two years so that we could all go together.” Terushima points out bluntly, making Hanamaki laugh which inherently shook your head as he was still resting on you. “And you’re the oldest.”

“If I’m mom, who’s dad?”

“Kuroo.” The two laugh nearly uncontrollably for a solid minute before Teru holds up rolling papers an a small plastic baggie, silently reiterating Makki’s earlier question.

“Nah, I’ll skip tonight. I haven’t been feeling the greatest for the last few days and I don’t wanna feel like shit tomorrow.”

“Suit yourself!” The blonde drummer calls out before clambering into to Takahiro’s car. From inside the vehicle, you could hear the boisterous bass shaking all the way to the outside before the drove off, the sound traveling with them to be replaced with silence.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tetsu.” You called out before sitting in your own car, repeating the same routine from earlier; click your safety belt, light a cigarette, bump your guilty pleasure playlist, and be on your merry way. It didn’t even occur to you that Kuroo had stood in the Terushima’s driveway, without ever moving to even enter his car. Despite how well practice had went, the text that Kuroo had received earlier from his girlfriend made him slightly uncomfortable. Or rather, his indifference to her text made him uncomfortable. But rather than continuing to have some strange form of an existential crisis, Kuroo brought himself to sit in his car, light a cigarette while pulling out of the driveway and head home.

You arrive home halfway through nine in the evening, immediately retreating to your couch and flicking on your favorite streaming service. For dull, background noise, you turn on an old favorite while mindlessly switching back and forth between the same three social media apps until you see the banner of a new notification coming in. Apparently, Kuroo could tell something was bothering you, according to the text he had just sent in. At first, you hesitated your response, even typing out an ellipses that you sent through before asking how he knew. “You always ask for favors when you’re sick. Ice cream, soup, ramen.” You pursed your lips, cursing internally at how well your best friend knew your tells. When you didn’t respond again, Kuroo chimed in with a text that simply said your name, following with, “wanna have a movie night?”

“Sounds good. I get pizza, you get beer?” Your fingers moved before your brain could stop and contemplate whether or not you even wanted company at the moment. Too late now, you figured, before placing your usual pizza order; as you breezed through another episode of whatever comedy you were watching until Kuroo let himself into your apartment. Fuck respecting privacy, he had told you once, as you had opted into giving him the spare key to your home.

“You haven’t even changed into sweats yet,” Kuroo muses as he finds you still curled in your sofa. “Something is wrong.”

“I’m okay,” your voice carries a teasing lilt to it as you echoed his words from earlier. “I promise.” Kuroo lets out a dry laugh as he rummaged through your kitchen cupboards, the sound clinking glasses and bottles sounding off before he joined you on the couch.

“For real, what’s bothering you?” The guitarist holds an arm up, his free hand holding the beer he poured for himself, to allow you to rest on his chest. Before taking him up on his offer, you grabbed the drink he poured for you, resting on the coffee table ahead of you, as well and touching your glass to his.

“You first.” You baited. And such was the nature of yours and Kuroo’s relationship—you knew each other all too well and always sought solace with each other. Kuroo could read you like a book, even if the book were inverted and translated into another language. Not only could he tell when you were upset—he knew how to fix it.

When it came to Kuroo, you never gave into his provocations. No matter much he tried to get a rise out of you, it was next to impossible with your steeled resolve. You knew Kuroo better than that, knew that he was a master of deflection and taking away focus off himself when it was centered around anything but his talent, expertise, and good looks. Feelings? Not his thing. But conversation would never progress between the two of you until he finally caved into your incessant questioning. A huge part of the reason Kuroo hesitated ever speaking on his feelings, you knew, was fear out of speaking his thoughts into existence. “I’m thinking about breaking up with Nanami.”

So that was her name.

Before conversation could go any further, the doorbell conveniently rang, signifying the delivery of your food. Setting down your glass and moving away from Kuroo, you opened the door, grabbing your food and handing a generous tip to the driver before re-situating yourself on the couch, all in a hurried pace. Unceremoniously, you all but tossed the pizza box on the coffee table. “Okay, you were saying?”

“I’m breaking up with Nanami.” The raven-haired boys voice comes painted with confidence the second time around, as if the few minutes you stepped away, he had found his own concrete resolve.

“Okay...” Out of discomfort, or maybe the rumbling of your stomach, you grab a slice, tucking your feet under your bottom to keep them warm. “Why?”

“She’s lying to me, for starters.” You cock a brow to him, silently wondering how he knew that. Instead of verbalizing a response, Kuroo hands you his phone, reaching for his own piece of pizza while you tried to not get grease on the glass. “She doesn’t have a brother.” He clarifies, seeing the confusion on your face upon reading the text that signified she was unable to come to the show tomorrow due to her brother conveniently coming back into town.

“Oh.” Now it made sense. Why anyone, especially a girlfriend, would lie about their sibling coming back into town was more than suspicious. The two of you had fallen quiet, blankly watching the moving images on the television while laying shoulder to shoulder, the silence comforting rather than awkward. But even in the silence with a beer in hand, Kuroo’s free hand that was once wrapped loosely around your shoulder was now resting atop one of your thighs—nothing out of the ordinary. While his verbal provocation wasn’t necessarily an effective tactic against you, subtle movements that tickled your skin often felt like torture by fire. He was goading you into speaking your troubles.

“C’mon, you can tell me anything.” While you couldn’t deny that, it was more so trying to figure out how to tell him your truth. How to tell him without sounding like you were crazy. It seems Kuroo knew this too, as he offered solace in the form of pulling you into his lap sideways, one arm wrapping around your shoulders while the other rested atop your thighs.

“Is it just me or has everything been weird between all of us?” You ask finally, opting to nestle into his tattooed neck as opposed to looking at him. The position was familiar and comfortable and it felt like home.

“No, it’s not just you.” Kuroo mumbles into the breadth of your scalp. “We’re growing up, babe. We’re adults with lives and our own homes and jobs.”

“The only home we’ve ever needed is each other.” Unable to muster a verbal response, Kuroo tightens his grip on you ever so slightly, shifting so that the two of were impossibly close, chest to chest. You make the mistake of tilting your head up to look at him in wonder. A mistake due to the fact that Kuroo was dangerously close, closer than you were aware of with his nose now touching yours. Your name leaves his lips in a broken whimper that sends jolts through every nerve ending in your body. “Tetsu, w—“ Before your protest could leave your lips, the hand that was resting in your lap came to cup your cheek and there was no stopping him. There was no quelling of the storm of Kuroo’s pent up emotions in this moment; he couldn’t anymore.

“Ten long years,” he says when he finally pulls away from the kiss that you hadn’t fought off. “I’ve been waiting ten years to do that.” You should feel relieved at the confession—relief that he returned the feelings you had buried at the bottom of the well. But nonetheless, this was not how you imagined this scenario playing out. Instead of relief, you were overcome with anxiety. Kuroo was still in a relationship for fuck’s sake! It didn’t matter that she was lying to him or that he clearly admitted that he wanted to break things off. It didn’t matter that you’d wanted to be with him since the day you met him at the coffee shop all those years ago or that it took everything in you not to give into your desires when you were roommates in university. The breathy exhale of your name that spills past his lips pulls you from your reverie, your eyes locking with his hazel ones.

There’s confusion and there’s guilt. There’s sadness and fear. But above all, there’s love in those shiny topaz gems that he is lucky to have as eyes. “Tetsu, you can’t do this.” The tremors in your voice give way to your own guilt. You may not have been a fan of his girlfriend, but that didn’t meant that any of this was okay. “It’s not fair.”

“You saw it yourself, she’s lying to me. She’s probably cheating on me—“

“Tetsurō, that doesn’t make it okay.” By now, you’ve resigned yourself to pushing off of his lap and creating as much distance between him and yourself as you could without outright leaving your own living room. But now that he had a taste of you, he couldn’t just let it go. No, not until he had you.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.” That was besides the point. Of course you felt it too, you had all those years ago and still to this day. But just because you felt it, you both did, doesn’t change the reality of the situation. Just because you both were mutually pining after one another didn’t change the fact that Kuroo had made the decision to date somebody else rather than confessing his feelings to you. Not that you were any better, though you would use the excuse of defending your homeostasis as a friend group. Kuroo didn’t have that excuse when he changed the state of normalcy by attempting to bring somebody else to the front door of the home that was your friendship, yet he refused to let them in.

It wasn’t fair.

“That doesn’t make it okay,” You repeated, “and I think you should go.”

“No.” He was being stubborn now. “If it bothers you so fucking much, I’ll break up with her right now.”

“Kuroo, you have to do it because that’s what you want, not because that’s what I want.”

“So you admit that’s what you want?” Dammit, he had you there. Of course, you should be jumping for joy in this moment. But something about the way all of this started and transpired just didn’t feel right to you. Was it okay for your happiness to come at the expense of someone else? “Clearly, Nanami and I weren’t doing okay. I wouldn’t have already been thinking of breaking it off if we were.” He says again, reading the expression you didn’t even realize you were wearing. Sometimes having someone know you like every inch of his own tattooed skin was really frustrating.

“Do what you want,” you concede finally, “I’m gonna go smoke.” Pushing yourself off the couch, you grab your parka that was draped over a coat hook before slamming your front door behind you as you sat on your stoop. Flicking your lighter and setting fire to the tobacco leaves inside the tube, you could hear Kuroo on the phone on the inside. You had half a mind to start banging on your window—he was being too loud and you still had neighbors to be courteous of despite you slamming the door seconds ago. Bits and pieces of the conversation could be heard past the stone walls. Kuroo was raising his voice about the suspicious text Nanami had sent earlier, about how he knew she was lying. About how he really just didn’t give a shit about her.

Ouch.

No matter who was on the receiving end of that one, it still left you feeling the unpleasantries going on in your apartment. You’re halfway done with your cigarette when Kuroo finally joins you, his hair even more disheveled than normal. Probably from constant raking his calloused fingers through his raven locks. The guitarist takes a seat next to you on the steps leading up to your building, but remaining quiet. What was there to say in this moment? Sure, he did what you had been secretly wishing for since they started dating, but something about it all was just wrong. “She told me I was crazy for accusing her of cheating, that I was probably the one cheating.”

“Technically—“

“This isn’t the first time, [name].” All joking is out the window, and in rare occasion, Tetsurō Kuroo is serious. “She’s bailed on every single show with some stupid excuse but comes to our practices because she thinks that when we aren’t in public we’re all just having some crazy bukkake orgy.” A heavy exhale leaves his lungs as smoke billows past his lips. It isn’t often that Kuroo was the openly vulnerable one, often preferring to be the one everyone leaned on instead. It was the reason he never spoke his issues into existence, but Kuroo always gave more away in his body language than his words. “Why do you think she hated you so much?”

“To be fair, all the girlfriends hate me.”

“Because they all think that you’re just in it for dick.” A spluttered laugh merged with a cough that escaped you. Not that you were one to shy away from vulgarity, but the reasons for your existence in Elixir were vastly different than from what they thought that it was laughable. With a shake of your head, you flicked your now dead filter before lighting another one. It was a chain smoking kind of night.

“So now what?” With his free hand, Kuroo grabs one of yours, the rose and dagger tattoo on his hand catching your eyes. You always admired the artwork that littered his body; his knuckles were your favorite. Each digit held a letter of the word ‘HOMESICK’, save for the thumbs, as an homage to the way your friend group felt like home. He even said he got them for you.

“Just...let me hold you.” Kuroo’s love language, for as long as you could remember, was physical touch. Even when it was the four of you, he was touchy with the boys as well. He was never opposed to giving them hugs or even platonic kisses because he loved them. Truly, he did. With you, he had always needed to be touching you, whether it was a hand on your shoulder or the small of your back, holding onto your pinky finger with his own. Tetsu gave the best hugs.

As you crawled in between his slightly opened legs, you pressed your back into his chest while he leaned over you slightly, his warmth contradicting the bitter November cold. You realized then the dichotomy and dynamics between Kuroo’s relationships. While he was so open with your friend group, you realized you’d probably seen him kiss Teru more than his own girlfriend, even if it was platonic. Maybe it was a result of her own design, maybe she didn’t like the way stale smoke smelled on his skin and lips.

Does it even matter anymore?

You looked up at Kuroo as smoke left trickled past your lips, letting the smoke dance around his clean shaved chin. “Are we okay?” You asked quietly.

“Define ‘okay’?” He was baiting you again, trying to get you to openly speak about what was to come moving forward. Kuroo was trying to get you to define the relationship and, thankfully, you hadn’t taken the hook yet. “I spoke my piece, baby. It’s your turn.”

BONUS: texts between you and Kuroo, text from Nanami. I like including these to see if I’m capable of making an SMAU.

[ Elixir « Besitos » I Don’t Care ]

Let me know how you guys are liking this series so far?

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Send in requests!

[radramblog]

Pink Lemonade: Not too sweet, not too sour.

(I think I’m brave enough to try some of that.)

Pink Lemonade is a 2014 album by Melbourne prog outfit Closure in Moscow and is one of the most banging’ albums in my collection. It sets out to have a good time and a good time it has, being probably the most consistently fun to sing along to of the albums I’ve tried to do that with. It also tells a pretty bizarre story, which between the salad of the lyrics, the rapid delivery, and sheer esoterica is pretty hard to follow- as such I’ll be explaining it as I go through this review. The clearest explanation of the plot is available in this article written by the band’s vocalist, and so a lot of what I’m saying is going to be coming from that. I’d recommend listening to it yourself, though, maybe even before reading on, if only so you can be as awed and confused as I was the first time around.

1. The Fool

We open on nature noises as a slow meandering line plays before suddenly being interrupted by a record distortion and a burst of energetic guitars and a quick beat, followed by the first lines of the song and what the fuck is he saying? Yeah, get used to that, that’s what this whole thing is like. Strap in.

The playful delivery of the second verse (“It’s a new day for the Fool today…”) had me hooked, with the backup vocals solidifying that position- its just a style that really appeals to me. The song doesn’t last much longer beyond that opening, because that’s just what it is- an introduction, a prologue, introducing the album’s style, energy, and protagonist.

Oh, speaking of. The Fool is our main character, and he’s who this track is about- a pleasure-seeker lost and adrift doing his own horseshit, and we’re going to watch him try(yyyyyyyYYYYYyyyyyyyyyyyy) to find his next fix- a fast track no fuss path to enlightenment.

2. Pink Lemonade

I’d argue this is the first real song of the album, considering how brief The Fool is. While The Fool introduced the off-kilter verses of the album, the album’s title song introduces the punchy choruses, with vocals going in unexpected directions and their impact coinciding with the beginnings of technical and fluid riffs. The first chorus (actually maybe the only one uhhh) breaks off with a hard pause, and we’re back in the slow build of a new, chiller verse. There’s a contrast here- The Alchemist (bloke on the cover!) offering this miracle brew, this psychedelic Pink Lemonade that’s the cheat way to heaven on earth, and the Fool just begging for it and then losing his mind as the drugs take effect and it’s not quite what he was expecting. This build climaxes as the Alchemist speaks again, voice editing simulating the effects the Lemonade is having on the Alchemist’s mind, as he pours this wicked elixir once more and reinforces quite explicitly that he doesn’t fuck around. As the music cuts back, it’s the Fool who’s finding out, as he just says a bunch of words that I don’t really get- but we hear backing vocals teasing, with the album’s first mention of the Brahmatron (we’ll get to it) The song keeps going as this motherfucker just keeps tripping- allegedly he’s grappling with extradimensional shit, you know how it is. This song fucks, by the way. It’s a thrill ride, never going in the same direction twice, and only stopping to start again until its final, bitter end.

The track on the album isn’t over, though, and here’s my first real criticism, though its more of a meta thing on albums in general. You get a lot of albums where there are additional non-song bits strapped to the start and end, typically with concept and story albums, and I just wish these would be delineated as separate tracks on the album if they’re as long as this one is. When Pink Lemonade comes up on shuffle, I don’t reaaaally want to get halfway seduced before moving on to the next song, especially if I’m not the only one listening to it.

Oh yeah, that’s what is happening, by the way. After the Fool is done tripping, he awakens in an alleyway to a voice (officially named the Tacky Ornamental Slut, ok, sure) in his head, leading him to her performance at a jazz club that is extremely forward and direct. This little swaggering, jazzy interlude (featuring guest vocals and “general insidious sauciness” by Kitty Hart who’s doing a lovely job) leads directly into and continues in the next track, as Weird Dimensional Shit happens to the Fool and by the sounds of things, either he or she is glitching through reality.

3. Neoprene Byzantine

The explosion of noise that is the first second of Neoprene Byzantine is the first thing I heard of this album, as it came up on one of Spotify’s Recommended playlists, and I’m glad I went back to figure out what the hell was going on here. Suddenly, our tempting voice has turned accusatory, essentially asking “oh, wait, you were actually into that?”, and offering the songs title character, Verina (a name never actually stated in the lyrics) to satisfy the Fool’s apparent needs. There is so much energy in this opening, essentially being *fancy guitar noodling* *sassy lyrics over a snare roll* *more guitar noodling* until it breaks, and Kitty exists the record hitting a high note that took me way too long to realise was a euphemism for cunnilingus. Exquisite. (I only realised when writing this and looking at the lyrics that this isn’t the first time that subject comes up on the album, since one of the lyrics I never got on The Fool was apparently “cunt-licking”. Earning that explicit label, I see.)

The rest of the plot of the song is basically just about Verina, a time-travelling plastic-surgery-covered literal Byzantine empress whom the Fool enters a torrid relationship with. The chorus is so much fun to belt along to, carried by the smooth guitar lines that don’t really explode like the opening does- that gets saved for part of the second verse, but we’ll get to that. The verses are also a lot of fun, with the first spending a lot of time as this cut back percussion-and-vocals bit, and when the other instruments do return the lyrics spend a lot of time with little asides (like these bits in brackets what I’m doing). The second verse on the other hand is has the vocals build along with psychedelic guitars until we are SUDDENLY YELLING, finishing with a steady fall back to normal for the final verse. The only reason I’d say they’re any less fun than the chorus is because the lyrics are fast so its real hard to keep up sometimes- kudos to the performer for nailing that.

Neoprene Byzantine is probably my favourite song on the album, and a lot of that is for similar reasons as Pink Lemonade- the energy all over the place, the different styles of vocals used, basically it has big ADHD energy, and I can appreciate that. It might literally be that this song resonates with me better only because of the better chorus, and me having a bad habit of saying (or singing) rude things with a straight face.

4. Seeds of Gold

Where Pink Lemonade and Neoprene Byzantine are chaotic and energetic, Seeds of Gold is a groovy, very danceable little tune. I don’t have as much to say as a result- its actually probably my next favourite after Neoprene Byzantine, but there isn’t as much to explain music-wise or plot-wise. The bass is grooving, and the little glitchlike noises keep it from being so smooth it feels out of place, reminding you that, yeah, this is still a track from Pink Lemonade. It’s probably the song most capable of standing on its own without the rest of the album, considering its meaning and non-reliance on themes or interstitials. That’s probably why it got a (very stylish) music video of its own.

Plot wise, Seeds of Gold depicts a more frustrated and melancholic story than its glittering guitars suggest- it’s about the ending of The Fool and Verina’s relationship, with him having no use for her anymore, his callousness turning to resentment in her mind, and he’s unwilling to take the blame for it.

5. That Brahmatron Song

Here’s where shit gets weird again.

That Brahmatron Song is the existential lament of the Fool as he discovers the truth of reality, the nature of the Brahmatron, and falls again through reality.

Like with Pink Lemonade, I’d argue this would have been better split off into two tracks, with the first half sounding completely different to the second- though at least the two are a little better connected sonically this time, in my opinion. After a mishearing of the lyrics, I can never imagine the chorus of That Brahmatron Song as anything but a particularly loud, drunken campfire tune, sung with tears in one’s eyes and a warmth in one’s heart (whether it be from the fire, the alcohol, or the camaraderie). And while that doesn’t actually fit the lyrics as the truly are, it’s a nice sentiment I’ve stuck to and kind of want to do in real life at some point.

The lyrics of this song are something that I just cannot connect to what the plot is supposed to be. Like, I get the realisation the Fool makes, but I don’t get how he’s supposed to have gotten there- the lines are just to esoteric. This is not to say it’s a bad song or anything- not as good as the previous three, but still great on its own measure- but it leaves me a bit puzzled.

The plot dives into its most psychedelic moments, as the Fool, through…some means… discovers the nature of the universe as the Brahmatron- the resonance and vibrations that make up reality as a whole. And as he fucks around with it, he gets sucked into it, leading to the second half of the song. The first half ends like a film projector being abruptly shut off, as the yawning void of the universe makes itself heard through atmospheric noise, slowly rising into a dramatic, unsettling beat. The vocals return with a transcendent BRAAAAAAAAHMATROOOOOON echoing through the noise, soon replaced by the dramatic beat continuing under what is presumably the Fool’s screaming rambles, filtered as though through a shitty radio. Guitar noodling begins, a solo lasting until the loud existential vocals come in again. Alarms blare as the raving gets more desperate, the solo restarts, and the dramatic percussion keeps going through it all. It’s almost akin to a twisted marching beat, eventually falling partially away as actual radio chatter is heard from some military type what the fuck? And then vintage video-gamey gunfire and explosions as the military dude says to fire and then someone’s really sexual moans and then it’s just over.

I don’t think I can put into words the experience that section of the song is, though I guess that’s me trying. It’s nonsensical and a little scary, but it’s a good time.

As the Fool tumbles through reality, he sees the apex, the centre of the Brahmatron, learning that it is neither malevolent nor benevolent, yawning of all possibilities and connecting to different realities. The Fool, frightened by the existential idea that all possibilities existing makes free will an illusion, desperately seeks a way out, finding a tendril leading to the forest he first met the Alchemist and diving right into that reality. It’s clearly a bit fucky, as we can assume from the military noises, but it’s familiar, and he needs that right now.

But there’s always a twist. We’ll get to the twist a later date, as at this point, I’m at almost 2,000 words and around halfway through the album. Stay tuned for Part 2.

[stephensponcho]

All the Young Dudes (continued)

It was now official. Paul was in love with John. He was so far gone and falling more everyday. It hurt. John wouldn't want him. Well, he was always flirting with Paul, but as soon as he realised what he was doing, he would stop. It hurt.

John started staying more nights. He would climb through the wide window and pass out on Paul's beanbag chair. One night, Paul had insisted that John sleep in his bed with him, so he did. Paul woke up spooning John with John pressed flush against Paul. There wasn't a spot where they weren't touching. It was wonderful. They continued for a few more weeks.

Then Paul's dad began to take notice. He continuously rudely referred to John as Paul's boyfriend. It was annoying. And, unfortunately, not true.

Then John told Paul something. Something that changed everything.

"Paul!?" John scrambled up the tree and into Paul's room as fast as he could.

Paul laughed as John struggled and nearly fell out of the tree, "What is it, Johnny?"

John eventually made it to Paul's room. He stood in the middle on the floor with sticks and leaves poking out of his hair.

He panted for a moment before talking, "I need to talk to you."

Paul's heart stopped beating. John's normally smirking face was grave and concerned.

"Go ahead."

"I-I... I've got this mate called Stu, wonderful bloke, and he," John mumbled something intelligible.

"What was that?" John mumbled intelligibly again, "John, love, you're going to have to speak louder-"

"He asked me out! Like on a date!" John exclaimed loudly. He buried his face in his knees, "Paulie, what should I do?"

Paul ran his fingers through John's soft auburn hair, "Do you like him back?" John shook his head rapidly, "Would dating him help you in any way?" John shook his head once more.

Paul sighed, "So, I think what you should do is, you should say that you aren't looking for a relationship now but you don't want this to stop you from being friends." John nodded solemnly, taking out his phone and putting it to his ear.

"Hey Stu! About what you said earlier..." He went on to describe basically everything Paul said with a few personal touches. He paced the floor as he talked, becoming more and more wound up.

John eventually hung up the phone, flopping onto Paul's bed.

"Paulie, you are a lifesaver!" He sighed in relief, "I could kiss you!" I wouldn't be entirely opposed to that, Paul thought, just do it already. John stared at him, wide eyed.

"Did I say that out loud?" Paul asked nervously. John nodded slightly, his mouth dropping open.

"Uh... Sorry! You just got out of strange friend-relationship issues and awkward love confessions, you don't need more."

John sat up more, crawling nervously across the bed to Paul.

Moving towards the other boy, he softly asked, "Can I?", his nose nearly brushing against Paul's. Paul nodded eagerly, softening at the fact that John had asked before doing anything. John cradled Paul's face in his hand and began leaning forward.

Before they could do anything, Jim sauntered in and picked up Paul's laundry basket. He looked up briefly, his eyes becoming the size of dinner plates as he looked on the two boys and their suggestive position.

"Oh- I'm sorry!" He stumbled out with the basket and closed the door loudly. John sat back, giggling. Paul had an annoyed look spread across his face.

"Why does that always happen?" Paul huffed. John laughed, slumping against Paul and smiling.

"What always happens?" John asked, grinning.

"Every time we almost kiss, someone barges in and ruins the moment! Twice now!" Paul exclaimed exasperatedly. John nodded thoughtfully. I'm going to take matters into my own hands, Paul thought. He surged towards John and pressed their lips together. John jumped slightly, nearly falling off the bed. His hands found Paul's cheeks. Paul's arms were wrapped firmly around John's back, his stomach jumping and exploding with overwhelming joy.

John broke it off, laughing and beaming at Paul, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"I might have a clue."

John placed his forehead against Paul's, his eyes flickering shut, "Day one, love. I've wanted to do that since the first time I saw you."

"Does this mean you're... Y'know, my boyfriend?"

John smiled, laughing softly, "If you want, then I suppose I could make some arrangements."

"Good. Because now you're stuck with me and I owe George a bunch of money."

John's eyes flickered up, looking hurt and confused. Paul quickly realised what he had said and how that would make John feel without context.

"Oh! George bet that you and I would end up together, I honestly didn't think that it would happen. Mostly because of my dumb immovable heterosexuality routine and because I was convinced that you would never want me." Paul admitted.

"Have you seen yourself? It's ME who shouldn't have a chance with YOU, not the other way around," John assured him.

Paul wasn't convinced, but he was happy. And John was too, and that's all that mattered. John pressed a gentle kiss to Paul's lips.

"You're wonderful and amazing, Paulie."

"You are too, Lennon."

~~~

Roughly a year later (it's like May, so school's not over yet)~

"Hello, love!" Paul called through the window. John's head instantly poked out.

"Paul! My wonderful, gorgeous love who's more beautiful than the stars in all their immense glory!" John called exaggeratedly. Even though he knew John was joking, Paul could feel his cheeks slowly heat up. "Wait for one moment," John told him, shimmying down the pipe running up and down on the outside of his house.

"Johnny, you know what dad said," Paul chided, "You have to use the front door."

John pouted, climbing down the tree and walking to the front side of the house.

Paul stood expectantly at the top of the stairs, staring down the door.

There was a knock. Paul flew down the flight of stairs, tripping in the process.

He made eye contact with his dad, "It's faster than walking." He assured him, picking himself up and opening the door.

John turned around, a huge grin on his face and George at his side.

John brushed it off as, "We both had a yearning to see you, love."

Paul snorted, "Don't say yearning, Johnny. It's fucking weird." John laughed softly, kissing Paul on the cheek.

George coughed lightly, "I have important news!" He declared. Paul led both of them to his room, clasping John's hand tightly.

John plopped on the Paul's floor, pulling Paul with him and into his lap. Paul giggled, kissing John on the cheek. George stood in the middle of the room with a smug look on his face and his hands on his hips.

"What is it Georgie?" George grinned wider.

"I'm going to ask Ringo out," he exclaimed happily.

Paul laughed, "After three years of pining?" George nodded, "When?"

"Right now!" George pulled John and Paul up. "C'mon, moral support!"

They burst out laughing, but obeyed.

George was practically skipping across the street, his messy brown hair and leather jacket flowing in the rush of wind and a guitar securely fastened on his back. Paul was piggybacking on John, grinning and giggling, occasionally kissing John's head.

"John?" Pauls voice asked out of the blue.

"Yeah, love?"

Paul sighed, "What're we gonna do when school's over? Cause I've got to go to college. I mean, I don't know your plans, but you and I are not gonna be able to see each other, and I don't want to have to say good bye-,"

"Breathe, darling, it's gonna be okay. I love you too much to let you slip away. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Paul's throat hitched, "You love me?" His voice cracked substantially.

"Well, yeah," John laughed, "I probably should've saved that for a better, more tender moment than you riding on my back to Ringo's house so Georgie can confess."

Paul held on to John tighter, almost like a hug.

"If I could, I would make out with you right now," Paul told him. John threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"Why can't you?" John asked, smirking.

Paul giggled softly, "Cause we've gotta support Geo."

They both looked at George, who had stopped in front of a house, staring at the door.

"You can do it, George!" Paul called, cupping his hands around his mouth. George gave him a thumbs up. John stopped a few feet away from George and hoisted Paul off his back.

George hesitantly knocked on the door.

"Hey Georgie! What's up?" Ringo asked, leaning against the doorway and rushing his brown hair out of his bright eyes.

George's face faded to a dark red, "I was wondering if... If maybe, you might perhaps, just maybe..."

"Get on with it, Geo," John muttered. George had apparently heard, because he shot a sharp glare at John before continuing to stumble through his words.

"I was wondering if maybe youwantedtogooutonadatewithme."

Ringo cocked his head to the side, smiling confusedly, "Can you say that again?"

George sighed, looking at the other boy with dark, pleading eyes, "Would you like to go out? On a date? With-with me?" Ringo's blue eyes grew huge, he jumped forward and hugged George tightly.

"Really? You mean it?" George nodded rapidly. "I would love to, Georgie." John and Paul clapped and cheered. George stared at Ringo with softened eyes and a bright , lovesick smile on his face. Then, a look of remembrance passed on his face. He took his guitar off his back.

"I- uh, I wrote a song for you," Ringo grinned widely with pure, unbridled joy. "Here goes..." He played a short riff and began singing, "Something in the way he moves, attracts me like no other lover... Something in the way he woos me... I don't wanna leave him now, you know I believe and how," he played the riff again and stopped, "That's all I've got so far," he grinned sheepishly.

Ringo looked on the verge of tears. He hugged George again, "Thank you..." Standing on the tips of his toes, he gently kissed George's cheek.

"I think I have a cavity from how sweet that was," John told Paul. Paul laughed and smiled brightly at him.

"How come you haven't written me a song yet?" Paul asked jokingly.

"Believe me, I've got a whole notebook dedicated to songs for you," John assured.

"Why haven't I heard them?"

John shrugged, "Because."

"Because why?"

"Cause I'm waiting for our wedding," he said nonchalantly. Paul stared at him, shocked.

"What?"

John laughed, "Not yet, but eventually. I mean, I love you and I think you love me. And you're gonna be eighteen next month, so it's not entirely unreasonable..."

Paul kissed him, hard. "You low key just proposed to me," Paul giggled, kissing John again.

John grinned smugly, "Maybe I did."

"Well, hypothetically, if you proposed to me then, hypothetically of course, I think I would say yes."

"Well, as great as that is, I'm still waiting till you're eighteen so that this can technically be legal," John picked Paul up bridal style, kissing his cheek.

George huffed, "Of course I had to be outdone by the McLennons proposing..."

Ringo hooked an arm around his neck, "It's okay, I think you did much better than that half assed kind of-proposal."

George grinned, "Thanks Ritchie, you're wonderful."

Ringo pecked his cheek, "You are, too."

They turned to look at John and Paul, who were now kissing each other like there was no tomorrow. Ringo giggled. George stared triumphantly at them,

"I made that happen, y'know. I forced Paul into his gay awakening and got them together."

"Of course you did," Ringo patted him on the back and pulled him into his house, leaving the McLennons to their devices.

~~~

"Happy Birthday, dear Paaauuul! Happy birthday to you!" The small crowd sang loudly.

Paul stared down at the cake, candlelight shining blindingly in his eyes. He looked up briefly to see his dad and Mike both grinning as wide as their faces could handle. But John looked like he was somewhere else. His eyes were unfocused, and a fake smile was attempting to mask his nervousness.

"What do you wish for Paul?" Mike asked in his small voice.

"I wish that everybody everywhere would be happy, even just for a moment," Paul blew out the eighteen candles, grinning widely. John smiled at him softly before returning to his thoughts. What was wrong with him? Was he going to break up with Paul? No. He can't. Not on Paul's birthday.

Paul graciously accepted the gifts from his aunts and uncles and everyone else. They were mostly simple things like suit jackets and socks, but Ringo and George had pooled their money and gotten him and Elvis record, an old one that was still in perfect condition. Paul's heart swelled and he felt like he was going to cry.

"Thank you guys! It's brilliant," he told them, clutching it like a life raft.

John still made no attempt to speak to him. Paul was nervous. But, he had people to attend to. It was his birthday, after all.

The night went on. His dad brought him a brand new guitar. It was stunning! Paul wasted no time in playing it. He played Elvis and Buddy Holly for what seemed like half an hour.

"Why don't you play one of your own songs?" Paul looked at the person who said it, his aunt who didn't know that most of his songs were love songs written for John.

Paul blushed. "Uhh... Okay." He set down the guitar and took a spot at the piano, John happened to be standing right in Paul's range of vision.

Paul tried to look away from him as he played the opening and began singing,

"Oh, darling! Please believe me, I'll never do you no harm... Believe me when I tell you, I'll never do you no harm," Paul sang, looking directly at John, who seemed to be very interested in the tiling on the floor, "Oh darling, if you leave me I'll never make it alone... Believe me when I beg you, don't ever leave me alone," Paul turned to look briefly at the group, some of who were enraptured in his playing, and some who were off making their own conversations.

"When you told me you didn't need me any more, well you know I nearly broke down and cried! When you told me you didn't need me any more, oh well you know I Healy broke down and diieeed! Oh Johnny!" Paul pronounced John's name loosely enough so it still sounded like darling, but it definitely caught his attention. His soft brown eyes looked up, shocked. They bore into Paul's soul.

"I'll never let you down! Oh believe me darling! Believe me when I tell you, Oohhh! I'll never do you no harm!" Paul ended the song with less intensity than it should be played, but he got the point across to John, who's face had become a tomato.

People clapped and cheered.

"Did you write that for your girlfriend, Paul?" His uncle asked, smiling.

"My boyfriend, actually," Paul said curtly. Some people gasped in shock, some were whispering, one of his cousins jumped up and yelled, "I knew it!"

"He never actually told me he didn't need me, in fact, he's standing in this room," Paul giggled as everyone's heads turned to George, who was shaking his head rapidly, horrified that the attention was on him. Jim was sitting on the couch, laughing to himself with Mike in his lap, Paul grinned at his dad for being so accepting and cool with everything.

Then Paul realised something, something important. John was gone. Paul sprinted out the door, ignoring the protests from everyone.

"John!? John, love, where'd you go?!" He called anxiously from the end of the driveway.

"I could do without you screaming in my face, but I'm here. I just needed some air." John grinned smugly at Paul, "You wrote me a song!"

Paul smiled shyly, "Yeah, dozens. But you didn't hear the end! And you didn't see everyone freak out when one, I said I had a boyfriend, and two, that he was in this room," Paul pouted, "But then my boyfriend wasn't in that room. Care to explain, darling?"

John coughed awkwardly, "Well my feet moved and brought me out of that room," he joked. Paul was unimpressed.

"Why weren't you talking to me? You looked like you were far away the whole time! I need you here with me! Are you cheating on me? You're gonna break up with me, aren't you?! I knew this was gonna happen! You were bound to get sick of me and want someone else! I'm not-"

Paul was abruptly cut off by John kissing him passionately.

"I'm never going to leave you. I promise. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm not giving you up. And as for me being distant, I-I had something really important to ask you. Well, I still do." John awkwardly fumbled in his pocket, carefully pulling something out of it. He handed it to Paul.

It was an old, battered, leather bound journal.

"It has every song, poem, and drawing I've ever done for you. I'm bad with verbal words, so I wrote down how much you mean to me." Paul gingerly flipped through the notebook. There was a bookmark poking out of one of the pages. Paul hesitantly flipped to the page.

A gasp forced its way out of his throat. There, in huge, carefully written letters, was a question. The most important question that Paul could think of.

Will you marry me? Paul looked at John, who was on one knee, holding a small, simple ring in his hand.

John had tears tracking their way down his cheeks as he smiled expectantly.

"Will you?"

Paul smiled so wide, he thought his face would rip. He could barely see through the blurriness that was his tears.

"Oh, Johnny! I love you so much! Fuck yeah!" John put the ring on his finger with shaking hands. Paul kissed him, rough and full of passion. John kissed back with equal passion, resting his hands on Paul's hips, Paul's wrapped tightly around John's neck.

The kiss was broken by shouts of excitement and wonder. Paul looked up at the porch to see his dad with a huge smile and tears streaming down his face. George was jumping up and down, practically screaming with joy. Mike clapped happily from Ringo's arms. Ringo himself was grinning painfully wide.

Surprisingly, only two of his relatives looked angry and disgusted, muttering under their breath about queers going to hell etc, as they made their way to their car. Of course they were married.

But you know who else was going to be married? Paul and John. Paul was staring up at John in wonder and joy as John held him bridal style.

"I thought you were going to leave me!" Paul muttered, "But, instead, we're gonna get married!" John smiled softly and kissed his boyfriend, no, fiancé on the cheek.

"I know we're both young, but I love you more than everything in existence and I can't spend another moment without you," John told him. Paul kissed John sweetly.

"I love you, too." He smiled, "Now, let's go tell everyone, even though they already know. We need to start making plans!"

[d00dt00nz]

Obligatory promo stuff at the top because it sucks and I hate it and let’s get it out of the way! follow me on twitter where I’m active, check me out on spotify for music, or like my facebook for sparse updates on music stuff. Thank you. The Cover art is by Ellie Tison

Okay!! Last song!!

Well, I say last song, but it's more like “last song”. There is one more song that I used as an epilogue, but I'm not going to get into that, and honestly if you've listened to 13 tracks without being sold (why would you do that?) one more track isn't going to sell you on it.

And would you look at that, the last song is a reprise of the first song. Wow, it's like Sgt Pepper... that's so cool. Now it makes sense why I didn't bother talking about that first song right? Not planned btw.

This song was one of the first songs I wrote for this album. I said this for a few. Truthfully I did four or so around the same time and they were all great. I had a few more tracks in the oven as well. Everything was going great. I was like “wow this album's gonna be done in no time!” Anyway that was like three or four years ago. I guess that's how these things tend to go.

This is back when I was trying to make a bit more of a straight ahead rock/indie rock sounding album. I'm pretty sure I wrote this song on guitar, lyrics and all, which is honestly (and sadly) pretty rare for me these days. I had this idea for repeated backing vocals and a call/response sort of song structure. I'm pretty sure this more energetic version of the song came first. I originally wanted a sort of Lou Reed feel to it, but once I wrote that groovy dancy bass riff it immediately lost that feel. Once I started recording electric guitars I accidentally did a grungy “brrroww” at the end of the phrase and really liked it. I replicated it throughout the track and in turn lost even more of that Lou Reed feel.

In my original recording process I had a damaged patchcord. I didn't realize it at first because I was trying out some new equipment. I just thought it was really quiet. That being the case, I had to turn it up way loud to get a good volume and that's actually where some of the guitar tone you can hear (mainly in the one playing a melody-line during the chorus) comes from. I actually really liked it, I thought it sounded like Pavement. Actually, my Tiff did too and that's probably the nicest thing she's ever said about any of my music.

At some point I added more guitar tracks to the track to make it sound fuller, and also replace some of the ones recorded with a broken patchcord. I honestly kinda liked the original tracks, which still had a little bit of that 70s glam grittiness to them, but I'm far too neurotic about this stuff to really sit with that. In the end it sounded less 70s and more mid 90s. It had a sound that I've actually been trying to get for a while, though not on this track – the sort of fuzzy swirling guitars with a groovy beat and bassline to it. Tiff described it as being “Like those music videos where everything is blue and everyone's got really baggy pants”, which, again, big compliment. I don't know if that one was actually a compliment, but I'll take what I can get.

The song had its genesis at that same party I mentioned last time. There's nothing specific really. We had my album on and it's got a pretty fun cool first half. The people there were enjoying it, but then it gets to the second half and it's a little bit more mopey. It's also completely sexless and uncool throughout. That being the case, one of the guys there was like

“Sorry Con-dog, the vibes are just not working with this right now,”

and I was like,

“Oh don't worry about it, I understand dude,”

And then he was like, “Right on man. I’m getting fucked vibes from those guys over there. Here, hit this for me.”

And then I did some coke off a Pulp Fiction VHS tape.

I thought to myself, “man it'd be nice to have music that you could put on at a party”. Which basically was the whole idea behind this album, conscious or not. I don't really know if it succeeded, but there's definitely a certain kind of party where this would play, and honestly I don't think I'd mind being at it.

The album was originally going to be more centered around the idea of the character described in this track. I mean, obviously he's me, but I'm trying to detach myself and make things a little more universal. I wanted to explore all the different traits and behaviors that this one person has. Some of them being mine, and some of them being not. Honestly, it didn't really pull through to the end. There's a little bit of that in here, but it's mostly just songs. I'm okay with that. They have some thematic cohesion. It's got this song bookending the album. Wow, it's like Sgt. Pepper.....

The ending is a little bit embarrassing for me because I do a bit of a scream voice, which, honestly I don't think there's anything actively wrong with it, I just cringe when I hear myself doing it because it's like “ah oh god I'm doing that”. I don't know. There's also the fact that, well, one of the things I yell is the word “Wasteman”, which is a little bit of an outdated slang right now, but when I actually recorded the song it wasn't. Whatever, this is an insanely white album from a white kid. I figure a lot of people who enjoy this type of music haven't actually heard that word. I wouldn't have, but I hang out with Tiff's cool friends sometimes. Honestly I think it's a cool term. I think the most embarrassing part though is I copy-pasted it so it repeats twice because I felt like I wanted more intensity. I don't think it's super noticeable, but the idea makes it a little disingenuous. During the outro I wanted to add a little more of that “90s blue and baggy” feel, so I plugged in a keyboard and freaked out on the organ setting. I think it really adds a lot.

The slower version of the song was written afterwards and I actually cheat because it uses some of the same midi tracks. I was super torn between the more exciting sound that I had and my original “vision” for the song, which was a bit more downtempo Lou-Reed inspired. I figured, why not do both?

There's not a whole lot to cover here that I haven't already covered. Mostly the backing vocals, but only because I think I did a worse job with them than the other version. There's nothing outwardly wrong with them per-se, but I think the blend is not good and that's gonna immediately stick out to some people. The middle section just kinda came about because the other version doesn't really have a proper chorus. It just has some guitar noodling. I played around with the chord progression of the middle chorus in the fast version and made something that was a bit more structured, then adapted a melody around it. Harmonies grew out of the melody. I felt like something was missing, so I took that same call and response idea from earlier and applied it here too. I really liked the interplay between the two vocal lines. The “Purify me” line was originally supposed to come up again and again throughout the album. One of the tracks that ALMOST made it would have been the song it was from, and then there would be callbacks to the melody throughout the album. It was kind of like a motif. That was unfortunately completely scrapped and this is the last trace of it. Maybe I'll work the idea into something I do in the future.

I like this song. I realized way too late that it massively rips off The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane. I guess that “Lou Reed inspired” idea was a little bit too literal. Fortunately I would say the middle section saves it from being too much of a copy. I think it's a good way to start and finish the album. I also like the thematic notions of this album starting with the same track it ends on. Like these things work in cycles and you're never truly free of your own quicksand. Like an Ouroboros eating its own tail, like Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. When one cycle ends, a new begins. The same, but slightly different – until it is completely undermined by the epilogue track that says “no this is actually the end”.

Hey congrats on making it through all of these entries! You may have only read this one, or even skipped to the end. If you did that, disregard that previous sentence and go back to read them. This album was the culmination of a lot of work and thought. 13 of these writeups was nothing compared to probably hundreds of hours spent working on this album, and probably thousands of hours thinking about it. I'm aware few people are reading these writeups, but it's honestly mostly my own indulgence. I gotta decompress this stuff and be free of this album. I can finally get rid of all this useless crap in my brain. I'll probably enjoy being able to go back and read this stuff once I've forgotten most of this, and once I've become a more mature person. I'll probably go “wow this shit is cringe. I can't believe he posted like 22 pages of cringe” but that's okay. The album's okay. I made for certain it was not, in fact, cringe before releasing it. And honestly I enjoyed writing these.

A part of me wants to get back to the freakish pace I had in like 2011 where this blog was nonstop content. I don't think it'd work so well in 2020 Tumblr because who even uses this site anymore? I think it's a little sad because it's pretty much the death of long form posting. Twitter is great because people pay attention to you, but sometimes I just want to write like two thousand words and have some psycho actually read them and respond to it. I think we've lost that on the internet. Sometimes I think of making youtube videos, but I'm no good in front of a camera. Sometimes I wonder, couldn't I just read something like this TO the camera? The answer is no, I can't. That'd be boring. I'm completely convinced nobody would watch that. I sometimes think that if I could add some editing and some visual component though, it'd work out. Some sort of... video essay. Some kind of... man with facial hair and left leaning politics who enjoys media and talks about both... Wow I wonder if that niche has been filled at all?

[queenscoolcat]

The boys see you dance to your favourite song that they wrote.-(Queen Headcanons)

A/N: I think I got a little carried away and the headcanons are a little long, but still hope you like it. Oh! and again sorry in there are any errors my bad.

If you want you can read it as the borhap guys.

Warning: getting close to smut but not there yet. 

Roger Taylor 

- It was nothing new that you love dancing.

- Everyone knew that, from all the members of Queen to the crew that help them assemble for the concerts.

- Watching you dance was one of Roger’s favourite about you.

- But today the only difference was that you drank a little more than usual.

- So at the concert, while you were backstage drinking some shot you froze when they started to play Rock it (Prime Jive).

- You love this song and definitely was your favourite from Queen.

- Of course, it had a little to do with the fact that Roger wrote and sang the song.

- You close your eyes and dance to the rhythm of the music.

- Not caring if anyone saw you and not giving a fuck if anyone had something negative to say about your moves.

- But when you open your eyes you saw Roger staring at you, he had the biggest smile on his face even though he still was singing.

- You throw a kiss toward him and continue dancing.

- When the show was over you felt Roger’s arms hugging you from behind.

- “Meet me at the dressing room in 5,” was all he told you before he went to the group of people taking to the rest of the band.

- And even though you knew nobody heard what Roger said you still caught Freddie’s eyes and saw him winking at you.

- You felt your cheeks getting hot and went to their dressing room.

- After what felt like hours you heard the door open and you saw your boyfriend Roger.

- He smiled at you and instead of walking towards you he sat on the couch.

- You look at him a little confused.

- “Now that you give a show to all our crew and friends I guess it is just fair you give me a show as well.”

- Your mouth was a little dry, and all you could do was stare at him with a little of a doubt.

- “Come on love, don’t go all shy on me.”

- That was all the encouragement you needed, well and the encouragement of the drinks you had help as well.

- You walk towards him, moving your hips a little more than usual and when he was almost able to touch you, you started to dance the imaginary music.

- That little dance didn’t last very long before Roger grabbed you and started to make out with you.

- Let’s say after that Roger loved, even more, seeing you dance and you didn’t complain about it.

Brian May

- The moment you heard Fat Bottom Girls for the first time you were a little bit surprised.

- But still, you adore the song.

- You wear one of the first persons to ever heard that song.

- And when Brian finish playing it for you, you could see the doubt in his face.

- “I love it,” you say looking straight into his eyes without hesitating.

- “What?” Was all he could say.

- You knew Brian always put his heart and soul into every song he wrote so seeing him a little hesitant toward the song make you frown.

- “I said I love it, it sounds incredible,” you said putting your hand on his knee “can’t wait for you to record it.”

- Brian didn’t need more encouragement, he kissed your lips and head to the studio to record it.

- When it was all done he invited you to the studio so you could hear it.

- The rest of the band went to grab lunch, and you both stayed to listen to the track.

- The moment you heard it play you couldn’t resist and started to dance playing the air guitar and fake drumming.

- He started to laugh, and even though you were laughing as well, you took his hand and make him dance with you.

- You started to sing the words you could grab from the song and continued dancing like there was no tomorrow.

- When the song finished both of you collapsed on the couch a little exhausted from all the dancing.

- You rest your head on his chest and listen to his heart beating fast.

- “I really love this song, it probably is my favourite,” you said looking at him.

- “From all the songs I have written, this is your favourite?” You smile and nod “oh dear, how much I love you.”

- He started to kiss you, you climb into his lap, your legs at each side of his, the kiss started to get more heated and you jumped when you felt a hand on your butt.

- He laughs a little while you were still kissing and in revenge, you started to kiss his neck.

- “You know why I love this song so much?” You whisper in his ear “because I love fat bottom girls as well.”

- You broke the kiss and look into his eyes, you couldn’t control yourself and started to laugh seeing how shock he looked.

- Just as you were claiming of his lap the rest of the band came back from lunch

- All of them look at both of you with suspicion in their eyes, especially Roger.

- “Darling! What have you done to our dear Brian, he looks disturbed.” Freddie said with a smile in the corner of his mouth.

- “I have a couple ideas what they could have been up to,” you through a pillow that was on the couch at Roger for that comment.

- “Oh both of you shut up, he seems normal,” you laugh at their comments “I bet that disturbance you see is the one from having to work with all of you.”

- Now was the turn of Roger to throw the pillow at you.

- You stay a little longer watching all of them record various songs.

- But your mind still wondered to Brian, and it seems he felt the same towards you from all the glances you were sharing.

- After a couple of hours, you stand up and went to Brian that was checking the sound of one of the songs.

- You put your arms in his shoulders and whisper to him “I really want to take you home tonight so how long will that take?”

- It didn’t take very long for that after a couple of minutes Brian wrapped thing up and took your hand so you could head to your apartment as soon as possible.

 John Deacon 

- When you heard the riff from Another One Bites The Dust you knew that it would be a hit.

- And when he finished it you begged him to play it for you.

- He adores your enthusiasm towards the music he made, and you adore how passionate he could get.

- So when you finally had the vinyl, you couldn’t help yourself but play it all the time.

- You made sure you didn’t do that when deac/ky was home since you didn’t want to disturb him listening to his own band all of the time.

- But the moment he had to go to the studio or he was on tour, and you wear free from work/college you almost always play it.

- So today was no different.

- After John went to Freddie’s house to listen to one of the songs he just wrote but needed a little polishing you didn’t hesitate to play your favourite song.

- After cleaning the house, you decided that you had to have a relaxing time after the hard work you did all week.

- You prepare the bathtub and put some relaxing oils in there.

- But after that, you decided that you still needed to hear Another One Bites The Dust one more time.

- So you play it, and when the iconic riff started to play you didn’t hesitate to walk to the rhythm just like if you were on a runway.

- You grabbed one of your hair brushes and sang just like Freddie was doing it, well just like Freddie but with your capabilities.

- You look at yourself in the mirror watching how your body moved to the rhythm and how much you would love having John here so he could watch how sexy you looked.

- And just as if the universe had heard you, you notice at the corner of the mirror a man standing at the door.

- You jump way too embarrassed about what just happened and you looked at your boyfriend not knowing how long has he been there.

- “Please tell me you just walk in and you didn’t just watch me make a fool of myself,” He laughs at your comment and walks towards you.

- He put his hands in each side of your hips and kissed your forehead.

- “I’m sorry to break it up to you but I walk in just as you were walking to the beat of my song.”

- You bury your face on his neck hiding how hot your face was.

- “Could you please forget you saw all that,” you mumbled just as his hand move to your chin so you could look at him.

- “Why would I do that? That is the cutest and most sexy thing I have seen in my entire life,” at his words you groan “maybe you can teach me your moves so I can dance just like you when I go touring.”

- You groan even louder and hid your face again, you felt deac/ky laughing and even though you were still embarrassed you laugh with him.

- “I prepared myself a nice bath, do you care to join me?” You ask after both of you calm down.

- “You don’t have to ask me twice,” you laugh again at his comment and head back to the bathtub that was awaiting you.

- And just as you were taking off your clothes, you heard John quickly made his way to join you wishing moments like this would last forever.

Request are open.

[cruesixxlover1991]

Slice Of Your Pie

Ch. 2 Red Hot

A/N: Hey you guys! Sorry it’s been awhile since I posted a new chapter. It was a super crazy busy week at work and by the time I got home I had no energy left to post. I also realize I forgot to put a summary of the story for chapter 1 as well, my bad you guys. If anyone wants to be added to the taglist for this story, please send me an ask. Now, enough of me babbling, let’s get on with this crazy love story.

Word Count: 3k

Triggers: Mentions of drug use and drug overdose, and language.

Summary: Veronica “Ronnie” Halliwel is a 22 year old rhythm guitarist who has been lookg for a new band ever since her last band ended after the tragic heroin overdose of their lead singer, Marie Dawson. She returned to work at her local Denny’s to make ends for her and her daughter, Alannah. Her luck changes when her uncle, Mick Mars, infamous guitarist for Motley Crue, comes to Ronnie with the offer of a lifetime: To become Motley Crue’s new rhythm guitarist. Ronnie jumps at the opportunity and also happens to catch the eyes of a certain bass player, who instantly falls for her insane beauty and absolute I don’t give a fuck attitude. Ronnie finds herself drawn to Nikki as well, but what she doesn’t know is the crazy road of decadence, chaos, and sex, drugs, and rock and roll that Nikki takes her on? Join Ronnie on this crazy journey as she finds true love amidst the chaos of her rock and roll lifestyle. Even if that love may very well end up being the death of her.

Taglist:   @beachystars @putbloghere @riverhaim1980 @nikkisixxwiththebass

@kat-976

1983

I was barely able to sleep that night due to my mind racing with excitement at the thought of meeting with Uncle Mick and the rest of the Crue the next afternoon. What if the rest of them didn't like my playing? Finally after awhile, i pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, knowing that sleep just wasn't going to happen. I grabbed my guitar and made my way to the living room. I quietly started to strum the chords to one my old songs, Misery Business(I'll be using Paramore songs for the She-Wolves). I close my eyes and let the music take me over. I start remembering performing this song for the first time and let myself smile at the memory.

Flashback, Whisky A Go-Go 1978

My heart was beating crazily in my chest as I sat in front of the vanity in my dressing room at the Whisky, getting ready for our first performance ever as a band.We had played at parties and smaller venues but nothing to this extent before. We had been putting up fliers all over the sunset strip all week, hoping to build a decent crowd for tonight. I looked over at Lyssa, watching her twirl her drumsticks in her hand and bounce up and down excitedly in her chair as she grinned at herself in the mirror. I always loved Lyssa's high energy, it was the first thing the drew us towards when looking for a drummer. A little bit further down our lead guitarist, Samantha, sitting there with a serious expression on her face as she plucked some chords on her guitar. Marie, our lead singer and my best friend, was sat right next to me, putting the finishing touches on her winged eye-liner and smirking at her reflection. We heard a knock on the door and turned our heads and told them to enter. Our manager, Beth Greene,(Did y'all see what I did there? Lolz) poked her head in the door and smiled at all of us, "Girls! Five minutes to show time!!!" We all stood up, Samantha and myself grabbing our guitars, Lyssa still twirling her drumsticks, and Marie smirking at herself one last time in the mirror before we all walked out of the dressing room and towards the stage. We all walked to our respective spots on the stage, taking in a deep breath as Marie tapped our set list to the side of the amp, walking back to her microphone, "Hey LA!!! Are you ready to rock and roll??? We are The She-Wolves and this song right here is called Misery Business!!!" The crowd went crazy as the lights come on and Samantha went into the beginning riff of Misery Business and Marie began to sing the lyrics:I'm in the business of misery, let's take it from the top

She's got a body like an hourglass that's ticking like a clock

It's a matter of time before we all run out

When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth

I waited eight long months

She finally set him free

I told him I couldn't lie, he was the only one for me

Two weeks and we had caught on fire

She's got it out for me, but I wear the biggest smile

Whoa, well I never meant to brag

But I've gotten what I wanted now

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now

But God does it feel so good

'Cause I got him where I want him now

And if you could then you know you would

'Cause God it just feels so

It just feels so good

Second chances they don't ever matter, people never change

Once a whore, you're nothing more, I'm sorry that'll never change

And about forgiveness, we're both supposed to have exchanged

I'm sorry honey, I passed out, now look this way

Well there's a million other girls who do it just like you

Looking as innocent as possible to get to who

They want and what they like, it's easy if you do it right

Well I refuse, I refuse, I refuse!

Whoa, well I never meant to brag

But I've gotten what I wanted now

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now

But God does it feel so good

'Cause I got him where I want him now

And if you could then you know you would

'Cause God it just feels so

It just feels so good

I watched his wildest dreams come true

Not one of them involving you

Just watch my wildest dreams come true

Not one of them involving

Whoa, well I never meant to brag

But I got him where I want him now

Whoa, well I never meant to brag

But I've gotten what I wanted now

Whoa, it was never my intention to brag

To steal it all away from you now

But God does it feel so good

'Cause I got him where I want him now

And if you could then you know you would

'Cause God it just feels so

It just feels so good

Marie belts out the final note and the crowd goes even wilder and begins to chant out our name. I couldn't believe how amazing this felt. I had never felt anything close to this performing before and it was absolutely addicting. It was from that moment forward that I knew that this would be my true calling, what I was meant to do for the rest of my life. I knew that nothing would ever come close to the absolute thrill and rush of performing in front of a crowd, the vibe and energy were absolutely unreal. We all looked at each other and smiled as we began our next song, Crushcrushcrush........

End Of Flashback

I smirk as the memory fades and I place the guitar down on the couch next to me. That was without a doubt the greatest night of my life, next to the night Alannah was born of course. . I will never forget the rush adrenaline going through as we performed that night. It was the thing I had missed the most, that rush and feeling like your on the absolute top of the world and nothing could bring you down. There was absolutely nothing that came close to it. I grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and laid down, finally feeling relaxed enough to sleep. I remember as I was finally slipping to the dark abyss of sleep having a feeling that tomorrow would absolutely change my life forever and I couldn't wait to go on this crazy new adventure and finally fulfill my dreams of becoming a rock star. I expected the journey to be crazy but nothing could prepare me for the absolute insane train-wreck of debauchery and decadence that motley crue would take me on. Especially a particular bassist, who would become not only become my best friend but would eventually worm his way into my heart and become the love of my life as well. And this here, is where our love story truly begins.

The next day couldn't go by fast enough for me. It felt as if time was purposely going by slowly just to screw with me that day. It also didn't help that it was a particularly slow day at the diner for once, which was really unusual for a Friday afternoon. I kept drumming my fingers against the counter top, staring at the clock as it tortuously moved ever so slowly. It had been over thirty minutes since my last customer had left and I was bored out of my mind. I mean, a girl can only clean the same tables so many times before she loses it, right? I jumped up when I heard the bell on the door go off as a customer walked in. It was an elderly gentlemen. I walked over to him, got him sat at his table, handed him a menu, got his drink order, an walked away to give him time to decided what he wanted. I brought over his coffee, put in his lunch order, which was a turkey sandwich and bowl of chili, and waited for our cook, Lauren, to complete his order. Once his meal was ready I brought it to him and offered to refill his coffee. He sat there and read the paper as he ate his lunch. Once he finished, he paid his bill and left me a generous ten dollar type, which totally made my day. Once I cleared off his table and brought his dishes to the back to be washed, I looked up at the clock and it was finally time for me to get off work and go pick up Alannah from school. I smiled to myself as I walked to the back, hung up my apron and walked out the back door to my car. I remember the car ride to pick up Alannah being a blur as all I could think about was how my excitement rose the closer I got to my meeting with the boys. I picked her up from school and rushed home so I could change and start getting ready.

I rushed up to the apartment door to unlock it, rushing inside and to my bedroom to change out of my work uniform. I chose a cheap trick crop top, black skinny jeans with rips in the knees and doc martens as my outfit. I fixed my makeup in my vanity mirror and put my hair in my signature ponytail. I smile at myself in the mirror, loving how my look turned out. I walk out to the living room and check on Alannah, seeing her working on her homework at the coffee table. I grab my keys off the side table by the couch and look at Alannah, letting her know it's time to go to the meeting. She jumps up from the floor and starts following me to the door. We get in the car and head to the studio. My heart started beating wildly in my chest from the excitement I felt. I couldn't stop smiling the entire car ride there. This was an absolutely amazing opportunity and I planned to take full advantage of it. I squealed to myself as we pulled into the parking lot, my excitement overwhelming me for a moment. I couldn't believe the moment was finally here. I grabbed Alannah's hand and walked into the lobby of the studio, going to the front desk to find out where we needed to go. I let the pretty brunette receptionist know my name and she immediately called upstairs to let my Uncle Mick know I was here so he could head down to the lobby to come get us. We waited a few minute until we head the ding of the elevator and looked over to see Uncle Mick making his way towards us. We both got up and ran to him so we could wrap him up in a hug. It had been a couple months since we had last seen him and we had missed him dearly. He chucked and looked down at us "God it's so good to see both of my girls, I have missed you guys so much!!!!" We finally let him and he put his arm around my shoulder as he lead me and Alannah up to the studio. We made idle chat and caught up with one another as we waited for the elevator to take us to the proper floor. The elevator finally stopped and we made our way out as the doors opened.

We followed Uncle Mick as he lead us through the hallways to motley's studio. We kept walking fora few more minutes until we finally got to a door that said: Motley Crue recording in Progress. Uncle Mick opened the door and we walked in the room, the other three band members stopping their conversation and turning around to face us. . I saw smiles appear on all of their faces as they looked me up and down, especially Nikki, bassist and primary songwriter for the band. Uncle Mick introduced me to each member, starting with Vince, who tried to wiggle his eyes suggestively as I shook his hand, than Tommy, who had the biggest smile on his face and exuded the most amazing energy. I instantly loved his vibe, it reminding me of Lyssa's insane energy. God, those two would be perfect for each other if they met. Last but certainly not least, we finally got to Nikki, who had the biggest smirk on his face as we walked his way. I finally took the time to get a good look at him and my god, I couldn't believe how absolutely gorgeous he was. His black hair was teased to absolute perfect, sticking up in every direction, black liner lined his gorgeous emerald green eyes, he wore a black leather jacket with leather pants and a black shirt that Fuck on the front of it. To say that I was awestruck would have been the understatement of the fucking century. I remember him taking my hand in his and bringing it to his plush pink lips so he could place a soft kiss to the back of it and winked at me as Uncle Mick introduce us, making a soft pink blush rush to my cheeks. Looking back at it now, I should've known than and there that he would be trouble but by god I just couldn't bring myself to care. All I knew is that the moment I looked into his eyes, I was absolutely done for and there was no going back. We all talked for awhile getting to know one another a little better, Alannah sitting in the corner coloring in the coloring book Mick had set up for her. After awhile, we all decided to start jamming and grabbed our instruments while Vince walked up to the mic. We had decided to play Red Hot a song of their new album. Uncle Mick took a minute to show me the riffs and we both began to jam together, Tommy joining in on the drums and Nikki following right behind on his bass. Vince began belting the lyrics into the microphone:

Fight for the black shark

See what evil brings

Can't you see we're out for blood?

Love from a shotgun

License to kill

Can't you see we're out for blood?

The kids scream in fright through the night

Loving every bite with delight

And we blow out our minds with your truth

And together we stand for the youth

Red Hot, red hot

To the top, we are

Red hot, shout at the devil

We've laughed at your wars

Can't you see we're out for blood?

Run with the pack, now

Always ask for more

Can't you see we're out for blood?

The kids scream in fright through the night

Loving every bite with delight

And we blow out our minds with your truth

And together we stand for the youth

Red Hot, red hot

To the top, we are

Red hot, shout at the devil

We've laughed at your wars

Can't you see we're out for blood?

Run with the pack, now

Always ask for more

Can't you see we're out for blood?

Red Hot, red hot

To the top, we are

Red hot, shout at the devil

We've laughed at your wars

Can't you see we're out for blood?

Run with the pack, now

Always ask for more

Can't you see we're out for blood?

Uncle Mick wailed out the final guitar riff as Vince belted out the final note. We all looked to each other and smirked. Our frist jam session together had been absolutely insane and we could all fee the chemistry between us. I had never felt anything like it, even when I was with the She-Wolves did I feel this type of magic. I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life. It was the moment I knew that I had finally found my band after having searched for so long and it was absolutely amazing. I remember looking around at all the guys and locking eyes with Nikki once again and smiling at him. He plastered his signature smirk on his face, put down his bass and began walking over to me. Once he reached me he wrapped his arms around me in a hug and looked down at me and said, "I know I speak for myself and everyone here when I say welcome to the band Ronnie Halliwel." My face broke out in a huge smile and I wrapped my arms around him and just kept shouting "Thank you. Thank you guys so much! I'm so excited to work with you guys!!!" I grabbed Alannah and swung her around in my arms, I hadn't bee this happy in so long. I couldn't believe my luck. I looked around the room one more time and locked eyes with Nikki once again. I smiled to myself and looked away. I couldn't wait to begin this crazy adventure and also to get to know Nikki better as well. Something told me he would be a huge part of my journey. Little did I know how right that would turn out to be.

[thats-the-teen-spirit]

Bring Me The Horizon - amo album review

I’ve been a fan of BMTH since the late-There is a hell era and obviously they surprised me once again. I’m gonna go song by song on the album because each of the songs have something in them that differs from the one before.

i apologize if you feel something, the first track is already a lot more different than the previous BMTH albums. It begins as a typical intro with long silences between the melody. Then Oli starts to sing on a really high pitched poppy autotuned voice. You can hear no instruments whatsoever except the synth that plays the melody. Then it changes to this ambient style that somehow suits the band’s music but feels awkward without the guitar and drums. When I first heard this song I already realized it was nothing special, just a little intro that might hype up the crowd before they start performing.

MANTRA, the first single of the album is a little less heavy than the That’s The Spirit era songs. A lot less heavy if you think about how Oli’s vocal style changed since 2015. It finally has drums and heavily distorted low tuned guitar and even screams in the background but it still feels like an alternative rock song just because of the verses and the high pitched bridge. The guitar riff is banging, the chorus is catchy, not a bad song afterall but it will still disappoint the old fans of the band.

nihilist blues is definitely the weirdest song on the record. It’s basically a trance/europop song that divides the listeners to two types: the first one would say: what the fuck is this shit, i’m not listening to this album anymore, and the second one would be: wow they’re brave as hell for doing this, I’m looking forward for the rest. I’m not a big expert on europop or trance or whatever electronic music genres there are but it really reminded me of an Armin van Buuren beat and apparently they copied a little from a relatively new Evanescence song as well. Grimes is featured in the song and her vocal style fits it really well. It has a creepy feeling that makes the song feel like you’re in a club full of drug addicts and the only thing left for you to survive is becoming an addict (for the music). Personally I think probably something like this was on the band’s mind when they wrote this. You definitely won’t like this one unless you like electronic music. You can hear the drums and guitars in it (they’re playing the electronic distorted thing with a tremolo pedal probably) but it’s barely recognizable.

in the dark, the next song has a really strange feeling. It sounds like a pop song because of the samples it uses but it still has the guitar (both clean and distorted) that reminded me of Doomed from the previous album. Both the guitars and the vocals are catchy as hell and after the first few listens you can hear what was the point of writing this song, here that “gateway band” thing begins that Oli mentions in a lot of his recent interviews. They want to be a gateway band that shows people the grand spectrum of music from electronic to heavy metal (or metalcore if you’re a genre-nazi) and do the same thing that Linkin Park or Limp Bizkit did for popularizing the crossover of rap and hip-hop and screamy, heavy rock music. It has the same experiencing feeling that got me into Linkin Park and even tho the song and its lyrics are kinda forgettable, the intention is clear and I personally like it a lot.

wonderful life, the second single of the album is without a doubt one of the heaviest ones on it. The intro seems like a classic BMTH style guitar intro with a little less distortion and a really weird, progressive time signature (for my ear at least). The main riff is simple, heavy and you can definitely bang you head to it. The chorus is catchy, the lyrics are relatable for the emo kids, it has a squealing scream from Dani Filth, which makes it seem like the metalcore days are creeping on the band. The outro chorus reminded me of their song ‘Oh No” from the previous record just because it’s so monumental but maybe that’s just me.

ouch is a cheap interlude in my opinion. It’s not even 2 minutes, the samples get boring in the end. It has a drum and bass kind of feeling to it. It reminded me of Cure For The Itch by Linkin Park, just because of the placement and the “drum” beats on it. The nanana thing that goes on in the chorus also gets boring really quickly. The lyrics are about Oli’s ex-wife Hannah Snowdon and it has a nice throwback to their 2015 song, Follow You with the “under your spell” lines, and it’s clear that he left that time behind with this song.

medicine, the song with the weird-ass video is the next one on the album. If you haven’t heard a single BMTH song in your life and you’re into the more pop-ish side of alternative you’ll probably say: holy shit this is a banger. The first couple of lines in the chorus are really far-fetched in my opinion, it’s the “we’re edgy and cool kids” vibe that is either cringy or makes you feel like the band got old and they still want to appeal to teenagers and young adults. The message of the song is the same as the previous one. The melody of the chorus and the vocals overall are not that bad, they’re catchy, but just like the intro of the album, it still misses the guitars, although this one has some really quiet clean guitars in the background. It’s clear that the vocals are in the focus and it’s stressed by shoving autotuned Oli’s voice down our throat.

sugar, honey, ice and tea is one of my favorites off the album without a doubt. The riff is heavy, the song still feels like an alternative rock song but this time the guitar tone for me seemed like an old HIM song that’s mixed with a That’s the spirit era beat, lyrics and melody. It has the same feeling when I heard Happy Song for the first time but this one has a Throne-like chorus with the samples going instead of Oli’s voice. In the outro Oli goes crazy and lets out Count Your Blessings-era styled screams which definitely help the song appeal to older fans. It’s gonna be played at concerts for sure.

why you gotta kick me when i’m down, oh boy where do i begin. Imagine Post Malone writing a song for a no name alternative rock band. Add overdistorted guitars and a mumble rap beat and lyrics. You’re done, you get this song. It shifts genres so fast that it seems like Oli went from ‘Lil Sykes’ and back to himself a couple times in just 4 minutes. It’s not a terrible song but if you don’t like the style of modern soundcloud rappers and the whole mumble rap mixed with guitars thing you’re gonna hate this one. 

fresh bruises, after the mumble rap song the boys in the band were probably like: hmmm what’s the next popular thing in 2019 that has nothing to do with rock. That’s right:”lo-fi hiphop for sleeping and studying” radios. The lyrics are only 2 lines, the beat gets faster but it’s still boring, even for an interlude. Definitely the most forgettable song in the album.

mother tongue, is the last single before the album came out. It’s the most honest love song from Oli that he’s probably ever gonna write. For personal reasons right now I can relate to it but if you can’t, you’re gonna forget this song even after a couple of listens. It has a powerful chorus, a radio friendly pop beat, cute ass lyrics and the most important thing: it has the potential to infect the radio stations and get the band even more recognition. The chord progression is really popular, (has the same chords as Africa by Toto), the vocals (with the help of autotune) are great. It has the Follow You vibes all over again but here you get an impression of a happy Oli Sykes that is in a fulfilling relationship and has a stable mental state. This progression is really respectable even if you don’t like the song itself.

heavy metal is my most favorite track from the record. It’s basically a huge “fuck you” to the oldest fans who only play Medusa and Pray for Plagues on repeat to this day, 13 years after their release. It’s got that middle finger in the lyrics that makes you think: damn this band really wanted a change and nothing can stop them. The song made me feel like Meteora days Linkin Park once again because of its beatbox styled bridge and the dropped, heavy guitars. This song shows the new direction of the band once and for all: they wanna make all types of music for both new AND old fans (listen to the last couple of seconds for the Pray for Plagues style vocals from Oli) but still says that nope we’re not gonna change, we grew up, we still like our old songs but you’re not gonna hear them from us because we’re different people now. Big props to the band to be this brave and say: this shit ain’t heavy metal.

i don’t know what to say, the last song on the record for me seemed really off topic from the album until I read what it’s written about. It’s about a friend of Oli who passed away from cancer. Oli didn’t write a song posthomously but the lyrics make it seem like he did. The song itself would sound like an 80′s power ballad from a classic rock band for me if I wouldn’t notice Oli’s vocals and the modern drum beat at some places. It even has a damned guitar solo, an acoustic guitar throughout, and orchestra. (which again reminded me Oh No, the closing track of That’s The Spirit) The song is forgettable for me, even though the message is really touching and meaningful. For a closing track it’s good but since it’s really different from the rest of the album it seems that they only put this song on just to honor that friend that it’s written about.

The album is one of the weirdest concepts I’ve heard from any rock band since A Thousand Suns by Linkin Park. The band put their heart and soul in it, you can tell by the level of production. On some songs it’s really well executed, others seem cheap and boring. My summary is that old BMTH is dead, they’re still gonna play rock music as they did with their previous records but they’re gonna expand and experiment to other directions, making it as progressive as possible just to keep the music entertaining.

[aintnouseofpretending]

Uncool. University AU, Queen fan fiction. (John Deacon x Tomboy!Reader)

For now, it can be read as a one-shot—as it was originally intended. If someone is interested in this to continue, please let me know! 😊😊

Warning: Cursing, fluff, a bit slow burn?

+ ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— -

It's a fantastic drowse in the afternoon Sunday. Nothing beats hanging out with your friends, smoking, eating pizzas, and tuning to some heavy metal and rocks on the college parking lot; especially, after your midterm exam. It’s not much of being glad the torturing is over, more of you know you nail the exam after studying hard, like the usual. Feels awesome still. But just hanging out isn’t the reason you all here. There’ll be more headbanging later tonight, one of the local metal band is coming to shake the building; whilst waiting, you and your gang are enjoying the quality and fun times together.

“Yo, y/n!”

One of your male classmates came, bringing more foods and forcing three people you don’t know to carry it when both his hands are free.

“How’s it, Dave?” You return the greetings with a handshake and hug. “Care to introduce your new mates?”

Dave points at a girl with long brown hair and purple streaks. She wears black leather spiked jacket atop of her purple tank, complementing her style with tight leather pants and black ankle boots. She also wears thick makeup that makes her face says "fuck you" to anyone it greets. You like her already.

“Jess Gun, call her G. Music student. Jess, this is y/n, our top dog. Mech like most of us.”

“Take a piss, Dave.” But you still take the compliment as you give G a warm handshake.

“How’s it, y/n.”

Then Dave points at a tall and large man. The man proudly showed off his brand new tan, covered in tonnes of tattoos by wearing only thin black sleeveless graphic metal band tee. The common theme of the night; leather pants and black ankle boots. But he’s much more complete with spiked armbands, bracelet, and chain necklace.

“This is Charles C. C stands for Colossal.”

Not surprising that C carried the most out of their raids, so you stopped him when he tries to pass it somewhere or to someone just so he can give you a handshake. Dave tap C’s shoulder, told him to move, uncovering the next new dog for the pack. Someone you didn’t quite expect to look for tonight’s occasion.

“This is John Deacon, Mr D. Ace of the electrics.”

“Just call me, John.” Say the man calmly with a much softer voice. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too…” You return, quite astounded by his symmetrical, handsome, princely features.

For some passerby, it might look like Dave bullies John and force him to carry around his things. And that might be correct, John stands out the most in your group; with his plaid brown shirt, light blue jeans, and a black tight vest. His kind, friendly downturned eyes don’t help either. Feels like looking down at a small puppy as a big black alpha. But lo and behold, he’s also into some deafening and blaring as his past time. Wait, is he?

“Big fan of the Devil’s Fork?” You ask him a bit later after the foods he’s carrying was savaged by your friends.

“Haven’t heard them yet, so I’m not sure. What do you think?”

What begins as your attempt to unfold a bit of mystery surrounding him and following your weird instinct to protect the poor puppy; ends with you blabbering about your obsession over the band—their unique harmonies, intense riffs, and sick styles. You even just noticed that despite his looks that perfectly fit how Dave describes him, he joins you as you power through your Marlboro, leaving nothing for the night. And that was your last pack too.

“Mind continuing whilst we walk to store?” You ask him as you check for your funds. Enough for another pack.

“Okay.”

Nope. The band black van that's showing off their logo on the sides—a small gremlin-like devil holding an oversized red flamming fork in exaggerated art style,—just parked right next to your pick-up truck.

“Well, that’s unlucky.”

“I will run and buy a pack before the gig starts if you’d like.” He says, somehow a bit guilty.

“Nah, mate, I will collect these peasants’ tax. Getting us more of a selection till morning.”

“It's okay. I’m good for today.” He smiles.

From behind him, Dave slaps his shoulder and practically shake the man; he yelped in a very high pitch voice, almost make you burst out laughing. You didn't blame him when he hit Dave's shoulder in return.

“D warmed up to ya’ quick, y/n. As expected.” Dave let out a hearty laugh. “Not many can do that to him. Or maybe that’s because you two are our top rank dweller? Can finally speak in your higher-intelligent language?”

You jokingly kick Dave away and he joins, pretending to be running away from his life, as John—and some that overhear Dave’s remark—laugh at your shenanigan. You hope John didn’t notice you staring at him; amidst the chaos that is Dave munching some arse-whooping from you. You savoured his shockingly cute laugh and face. No. You wish it was forever, so you can admire him to your heart content…

Well, crap.

You just met and you’re crushing hard on him already?

Wouldn't be the first time.

It won’t last long like the others. You assure yourself, tangling your arm on his shoulder as if you’re his old friend. Understanding boundaries and someone else personal space were not one of your strong suits; you get in a whole lot of problems that turn things awkward, but you’ll exploit that fact to get even closer to John.

“But, Dave’s right. You’re gonna have fun with us. And with me, mate.” You say, confidently.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

When you think it’s not possible for a man to be any more charming and stunning, he proved you wrong by just smiling a bit wider.

“I will personally guarantee it.”

***

“Fuck my life.” You sighed after Deacy left your home. You practically let your body fall on the couch as you put your palm on your chest. “What the fuck is going on with me…”

It has been several months since you have attended the best college gig. The same day Dave introduces you to John. You did promise to give John a good time—and it’s a hell of a good time for you and your friends as well. Even John tell you to call him Deacy—or Deaky? He never wrote it down,—the privilege that was only given to you. That might also the reason why your crush now develops into actual feelings.

“Absolutely. Not because he comes here almost every day. All studying together, rocking to music, the fact he makes cool riffs, shred his guitar, and even taught me how to play them…”

You talked to yourself in an attempt to calm down. It works. Partially. You scratch your head furiously and rolled about. Angry that you knew you catch the feelings, but mind goes on thinking it was not a big deal, that it’ll soon be gone. Only when you fall down the couch face first, your decision was made; you will be upfront about it, you will show him your interest. Then, when he returns them warmly, you will do a sneak attack, and ask him to be your boyfriend! Perfect! Maybe then you’ll figure out your feelings more?

“Fuck the tradition.” You exclaimed as you get up. “Says who I can’t woo and pamper my man?”

And so you did. At first, it was very subtle; longer physical contact, purposeful stare, spending more time with him, wearing things he likes, giving him gifts that he likes, listening to even the most curious of his nonsense when he’s drunk. Then it escalates slowly but surely, you have constructed a plan to ask him out to places he likes; arcades, music shop, buy him movies ticket, buy him tickets to concerts. You never fail the dates. And of course, you’re getting even bolder to the point that hugs that used to make your body numb, head empty, heart pounding, feels much too normal now. Occasional holding hands after college or hanging out. Cuddling when watching movies at your house, in front of your friends, even.

But what about him? How does he react? Is it warm enough yet for you to ask him out? You can’t tell. There might be a slight change, but you really can’t see it. It’s always you that initiate physical contacts, even for just a hug. He asks you out to hang, but never to his house, or even special places; just for shopping, to cafes, arcades, library, something very casual. Almost every dates now you try to kiss him, and every time too, somehow, he deflected it as if you purposely closing your eyes and get your face close to him with your award-winning kissy face was just an accident.

“That happens by the end of every date!” You mutter to yourself, burying your face in your palms. “What the hell did I do wrong? Don’t make it clear enough? What do you think, G?”

G stares at you whilst chewing on her gum and smoke at the same time. Now it’s almost on every date too that you drag G and told her your tales of woe. Although you’re paying for her foods, you can clearly see that it doesn’t matter anymore. She’s fed up and well-fed—apparently, she gained a lot of weight because of you.

“Fucking tell him you love him.” Her words came out like venom. “Ask him to be your boyfriend. Stop being a fucking pussy about it. Don’t come to me again if you didn’t do what I said when he’s dating someone else.”

She’s right, you think. Either Deacy is extremely stupid—unlikely for an honour student that beats the crap out of you score wise, or you were never one of the options he wants and simply think your shameless boldness was because you are in fact have zero sense of personal space, and getting used to it fast. Or maybe you're the one that's a wee bit dumber than you thought about not being able to read the atmosphere well most of the times? No other choice but to find out which answer it is.

You’re trying hard to gather your courage, but now you’re still stuck, trying to solve other mysteries instead. As he stares at you, sitting on the other side of the table, eating a giant pile of expensive ice cream quite seriously. Waiting.

You asked him out to an ice cream cafe a week after your date with G, and G said when someone is happy, they tend to give more positive feedbacks, reactions, whatever; because you use that trick and charm her to fatten herself up. It most likely works on him too. Of course, it will be like normal hangout after class, you never miss a day when taking him to places, even if they might be just a small store. It’ll be a hundred per cent chance that he thought today will be normal like thousandth days before. The surprise factor might contribute.

Excellent.

But you’re running out of time; Deacy is powering through the ice cream like it was nothing. If you keep on failing, he might end up like G. Not that it'll affect your feelings towards him.

You took a deep breath.

“Deacy.”

“Yes?”

And there it goes all the courage you have collected for the past ten minutes. Shattered completely as he stopped the scooping mid-way to his mouth.

“See. That’s what happens when you let cats get into your mind. When your guard is lowered, thinking they’re just small creatures that can do you no harm; they took the chance and get your tongue.” He says, then continues eating.

“I am sorry, good sir. But I am willingly and consciously serve my tongue for their enjoyment. Speaks nothing but praise. And they’re very pleased, so they return it.”

He gave out a very monotone gasp.

“They’ve got my best friend under their control. I must go on a journey to find the materials so I can create the machine to reverse the effect of their alien-like ability.”

“She’s your best friend? How sweet, oh, puny mortal. But there’ll be a legion of our army that’ll stop you. By the time your machine is done, she’ll forever be gone. Nothing and no one can save her.”

"A hero will never give up. With the power of friendship, love, and bravery, I will not let anything stops me."

Usually, the odd banter lasts longer and gets weirder by the minutes, to the point that both of you forgot of what you two are previously doing or talking. But this time it doesn't work. What you expected was that you'll just magically drop the L-bomb in between the exchange. Instead, that thought makes you aware of the possibility and suddenly words were lost.

"Y/n? You okay?"

"Yeah. Things get progressively harder to overcome."

"Our made up stories, exam, or something else?"

"Something else."

"What is it?"

You're extremely frustrated by how easy it is to continue talking when it’s just jokes or normal trivial conversations. But when it comes to serious business, you suddenly have no power to speak...

Then you get an idea.

"I got a joke. Knock knock."

"Okay? Who's there?"

"Will you."

"Will you who?"

"Will you be my boyf—."

"There you are! Always leaving us with the dust! Not this time, mate!"

After the initial shock that quite visibly makes you—and Deacy—jumped, you immediately throw your spoons at Dave and his friends that suddenly came. Pouting and fidgeting in your seat in silent anger as they approach you.

“How’s it, mate?”

“Shove those spoons right up your arse!”

It makes you even angrier that no one seems to care about why you’re very angry being disturbed. Not even Deacy himself, as he joins the others and laughs at you and Dave’s yet another antic when you keep hitting him as he tries to sit next to you. You ended up sitting next to Deacy after kicking the other boys that previously sat there.

“That’s his fucking food. I paid it specifically only for him. Shoo!” You yell again at some of the boys that try to put their spoon in Deacy’s ice cream. Slapping them like flies. “The waitress is coming back, buy your own!”

“It’s okay. Do you want some too, y/n? You did pay for it.”

It’s pretty clear that Dave can’t stop staring at the both of you when Deacy keeps on feeding you ice cream before you can even say yes or no. There’s something in the metalhead's eyes that makes you feel a bit uncomfortable. Though you did feel a little bad, he’s used to be the one that receives your attention the most, now you can’t even remember the last time both of you hang in a college gig.

“How long have you two been dating?” Dave asked, almost makes you jump in a surprise.

Deacy answered in lightning. “No no no. We’re not dating. I’m not sure we fit each other. I think I only pair with shy girls...”

There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you hear that. You stare at Deacy that’s not even giving you a side-glance after hearing such question. Does he even think about your relationship at all? It’s not even one year, wouldn’t that makes him question why you seem to not only clingy and protective of him, but also very forward? Or does he thinks that’s just how you really are?

“Not the first time you’re rejected like that huh.” Dave jokes.

“Go fuck yourself, David.”

You try your best to repress people’s laugh when they still think this is just the usual friend-insulting-friend jeer. But when you didn't join, the sounds quickly dies down, replaced with conversation and the sound of clanking. You want to change seat so bad; being too close with Deacy right now is very uncomfortable, after he straight up rejecting—well, softly saying he’s not into you. Eventually, you let the pang of pain in your heart submerged by the busy sounds of people talking, spoons clinking, and bustling streets as you play with your freshly ordered strawberry cheesecake. Never really a fan of sweet stuff, you think.

But I need it. Hell of a rejection.

One spoonful almost makes you cringe, but you chew them anyway, enjoying the sweetness in the now duller ambience. Has it always been this orange-ish brown in this cafe? Huh, this is the first time you noticed how warm this place feels. Maybe that’s why both you and Deacy always the frequent here. Whenever you are here with him, it’s always fun. Would it stay the same once your feeling is gone?

This one will go away too. Not the first time.

You hope it’ll be fast this time. Just another heartbreak. Not a big deal. You’ll move on, and Deacy will be like Dave, one of the lads that reject you from being a tad too tomboyish for their taste. You wonder will the next love ended up the same? You hope not.

***

“You look like shit.”

“No shit, mate.”

The gal just cut her hair short and now fully coloured it purple, as per your suggestion, and she looks great. C also think so and accepted G’s confession. You’re happy for them. Very happy. And wish that it’s just happy, and not incredibly envious feelings about her moving on fast from being rejected by Dave. Because of your misery from last rejection, that’s far before G is forcing you to start hooking her up with Dave. And right now G is about to celebrate her four months relationship with C.

That’s also why you are here. To cover G’s shift in the electronic shop G hook you in. As thanks for helping you get a job when you quit the car repair shop right after you see John flirts with one of the regular customer’s daughter. Cute girl, a wee bit younger, long blonde hair and blue eyes, always wear a bright coloured dress. Well, you have to admit, she’s very gorgeous. And one more thing; she does look like a perfect fit for Deacy. But that’s not what makes you immediately call the manager and formed your magnificent bullshit reason to quit. It was when she calls him Deacy.

“Hello?” G snapped her fingers again in front of you.

“What?”

“I’m going? But now I’m not sure that I should, with you like that taking care of the shop. You’re already on your second warning, y/n. Are you really okay if I leave?”

“Go on ahead, mate. C’s waiting.” You push her out the door. “I will be fine, it was just a couple hours. Worse case I will be zapped dead repairing Mrs Carla’s TV. Have fun!”

You purposely laugh out loud to make sure she buys your bullshit and didn’t stop until she’s out of the shop’s front. You slumped down a chair near the cashier and starts flipping the magazine you just bought; hopefully, it can kill the bore and the sadness. Alas, you bought a guitar magazine, and all you can think is now John. He invades your mind like he owns the place, jumped on the couch and start ordering you to listen on how important he is to your heart and soul. How you’re a queen that sits on a throne of liar for denying the truth that you missed him so much. This is the first time this happens. It was never like this, even with Dave—and you meet the dude almost everyday afterwards,—you moved on from him quick as lightning. But why? Why with Deacy—John?

What the fuck is going on with me?

It’s the same question you asked when you first realised how deep you have fallen for him. And then he rejected you softly, you try to drift a bit apart from him so you can move on and swoon on someone else. A cooler dude, perhaps, that’s just as cute, and as awesome as John when he shreds his guitar. But that never happened. You keep on staring at John and only John. His laugh always makes your heart warmer. A simple gesture like when he asks you out and helps you carry your project to the cafe. It’s not only the good, but the bad part also happens; you’re now very much aware when John uses his softer tone whilst talking to another girl, or how kind he is with them. He might just be friends with them, but it pains you so much to see it. Then you start making more distance, hanging more with your old pack. But then the arsehole Dave says that he saw John hang with this one particularly pretty redhead from another college.

“She’s all shy and cute. They look like a real couple, you know. But when you and D’s hang, you look like you’re bullying him.”

“Piss off, Dave.”

And that might be true. You always force yourself on him. Drags him places. What if all this time he’s saying yes not because he likes spending time with you? That he just doesn’t want to hurt you if he says no? You did say you are bad at reading people and knowing what the hell is going on sometimes. It is almost a year you slowly stopped hanging with John, and not once did John approach you, nor did many—which is a lot—of your mutuals mention John’s looking for you. Even worse, the one time they mention John, it’ll always be about him having a new girl holding hands with him. Maybe all this time you are just delusional?

Even so, you have tried your darndest to forget about him since his rejection. You tell your friends about your sadness—G, mostly, poor her—it doesn’t work. You try to pour it in form of letters and later burn them. As the fire is ablaze, so is your love towards him, so that also doesn’t work. C suggest you to make it into a poem, he said it helps him, he even sang them in gigs and people loves it. And you do it—not the sing in front of people part, just the poem. It’s still a fruitless effort. And your score took the brunt of it. You have been nothing but stressed, even more so knowing the final exam is near. You haven’t been studying.

“Good work today.” Say your coworker. “You know, if you’re sick, you should just tell Gun you can’t cover her shift.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been on autopilot.” Yet another bullshit excuse. “Exam, you know. But I will manage. Thanks for worrying about me.”

“I don’t. But getting you fired when we have many stuff still needs fixing is like shooting oneself in the foot.”

“Aw, geez, May, I’m fine! Don’t kill yourself worried like that!” You slap the lanky man’s shoulder. Damn, he’s tall. “If you keep it up like that, I might fall for you, and that might be a problem.”

“How so?” He challenges.

“One man making me miserable is enough. I can’t have you rejecting me as well. This lady only has one heart after all.”

He fell silent. Whoops, your jokes might go too far, or he simply couldn’t care less. But as you grab your jacket and get ready to be sorrowful again on your way home, May joins you.

“Going to the store?” He asks awkwardly. “You know, all that smokes will kill you someday.”

“It can’t come any sooner.” You joke again as you puff one. “I mean, sure, if you meant by the store is my house as well, you’re very much welcome, mate. Need some witness for my pity party.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, y/l/n. Don’t just give up on love just because of several guys happens to see less agressi—more composed girls.”

“Hah. At least you admit they're not up for the adventure. You’re right, they’re missing out big time; when I am committed to someone, I will love them with the entirety of it. But well, maybe that’s why I’m so bloody depressed right now.”

He looked at you softly. His hands are twitching, but then he put it in his pockets.

“You’ll find there are many men in your life that’s close to you, and the right one for you might just be around the corner.”

“He can’t come any sooner.”

The walk is a bit uneventful from that onwards, just a bit of conversation. You thought he was just bitter and hates fun—the way G describes him, but he’s cool. He knows a couple of good rock and metal bands, attended some, in fact, which makes you a bit curious whether you have met him before or not. Although you thank Brian May for making you forget about John even just for a bit by promising to buy him tea one day and in the end he tells you good luck on your exam. And, hmm, he's a bit cute? And you particularly like his kinky hair.

But as you arrive home, in an instant, your head and heart instantly switches back on thinking and feeling your love for John. The room is cold and empty. How you wish, somehow, John was here, waiting for you as he makes you both teas. Last year, today will be a horror movie night. You’ll play the guitar together, or some scribble, or heck, you’re close with final exam, both of you would most likely studying right now. You will bring home cheesecake from keeping him waiting.

And I did.

It is just a an empty wish for him will be here as impossible it is. But you still bought home two cheesecakes when you can’t even finish one. It was one of his favourite food. It’s too sweet for you, but you will gladly eat one with him. Now what should you do with two cheesecake? Call Dave to come? He used to be in John’s place after all, but it was a very long time ago. May? Even for someone as shamelessly bold as you, you know that’s a bad idea. Or maybe not?

But why? Why can’t I just be alone?

Because you know why, yet you dare not admit how much you miss John. How much you love him. Tears start welling up on your eyes. You know why you can’t forget about him; all the smallest hints that reminded you of him is everywhere. Cheesecakes, cafes, electronics, your house, horror movies, studying... And the acoustic guitar that you bought specifically so he can teach you how to play it, the more excuse for you to invite him to your house. Without you even realised, you grab the guitar and you sit on the terrace. Then you sing. Sing to your heart content. You don’t care how ear wrenching it is to listen to your own voice that breaks everywhere, and not to mention false. But you keep on singing and strumming the guitar with the only notes you’ve learnt. You wish to scream to your heart content.

I have suffered, but the love stays. If I can’t forget, then please, please, allow me to cherish my dreams. For without it I might die. For without it, for without him; I have no more reason to live.

“Please... I still love him... I missed him... I—.”

You are wide-eyed when you see a dark figure standing on the street, facing you. Maybe it’s just someone a bit disturbed and/or petrified by your awful symphony. But, no. It has to be him. Just as wide-eyed as you. Perhaps he has been that way? Or maybe you both spooked each other? Has he been there the whole time? Watching your dramatic blue moment; the snots and tears, voice cracks, and shit guitar skill?

Fantastic. He’s head over heels from the sight.

You wiped your tears with your t-shirt as you put down the guitar. The man is still there, and so you approach him, pretended nothing happened. You always know how to deflect with jokes, so you’re confident.

“O-oh, hi, John. What you got there?”

Not so confident... As you get closer, you can see his appearance clearer; even more handsome than the one in your mind. He wears that particular worn out button up shirt that you bought him as his birthday present long ago, the same dark blue jeans he wore the night you two met, and his school bag. But what caused you to ask is the same carton bag you get when you bought the two cheesecakes just now.

“How’s it?” You ask again, find it a bit rude not asking it after a long time no see. But you say it as you reach the carton bag. He pulled it away slightly from your hand.

“I’m... Good. How are you? Are you alright?”

“Where have you been, D? Don’t get a final exam in your college? Lucky.”

“Ah, every engineering students’ wet dream.” He joins. “It wouldn’t be counted as lucky. My college is on the planet Mercury.”

“Shame. I could not wish more than for your college to give you lots of exams once you get back. But, surely you have seen me. Undoubtedly, a human like me can’t resist the fiery passion, just like everyone else, when it comes to the final exam.”

“I don’t think it’ll be much of a blazing flame for the two of us.” He says as he hides the carton bag behind his back, forcing you to face him.

“Oh, absolutely not! Who ugly cries and screamed like a dying cat that actually is fine from the inside? They do. But certainly not me, excuse me for doing it ironically. How about you, fine sir?” You raised your hands in frustration and also to add to your dramatic statement, at the same time, distancing yourself away from him. Your heart is pounding like mad being that close.

“What happened, y/n? Are you really okay? I haven’t seen you for so long, it’s very worrying.”

“Oh, it’s a perfectly adequate! I have a crush on you, it turned serious. Ask you out, invade your personal space. Turns out I’m not your type. You know, blah blah blah, the common gossip. Now, what you got there? Cake? If it’s not for someone else, might I have it? To be honest, I am very hungry.”

There’s a small victory noise you make when you catch the bag and stole it from him. But as you check what’s inside, you take a peek at him only to find him covering his mouth with his hand; his face is bright red, eyes smiling, and eyebrows sky-high on his forehead. You feel as if your entire being is a firework, blasting through the air and exploding in bright colours when you realise why he’s like that.

“E-exam fried your brain, mate. Your sarcasm detector is rusty.” You say, try not to be too happy; you might be wrong.

“Most definitely. And I will just let you insult your way out of your own fake confession, you know, like a cunt that I am. To keep deflecting your obvious and incredible attempt at seducing a man. Thinking I was too uncool to be your boyfriend. You’re right, just another common fucking gossip.”

Now, you’re actually blasting off. You jumped in surprise when he yells that. He never yelled at you; hell, you never hear him raise his voice, even though he curses a lot too sometimes. But this time he full-blown raise his voice to almost the screaming level, especially when the colour of his face could match a ripe tomato, showing a very visible sign that he’s angry you still can joke about it. About your feelings.

But no words were uttered after that; you’re a silent statue, cheeks red, eyes wide, mouth’s open. Whilst he twiddles about, walking, trying to find something as he covers his mouth still, calming himself down. Hoping there’s a shovel he could use to dig himself a grave. Both of your heart is about to detonate, but you’re used to it at this point.

“Mate, if you’re not serious, know there’ll be consequences. And you wouldn’t like it.” You say with gritted teeth; from holding back your almost spilt feelings of joy.

He takes a quick step towards you, it’s also very clear he’s holding back his smile. He retorts out of habit; “what sort of punishment awaits me if I’m guilty your honour?”

In an instant, you grab his hips and get you body practically touches his; feeling his chest raise and fall, and his heart that’s beating also has hard as yours. You screamed in your mind for not thinking, and now you feel like passing out from the blood that’s rushing to your head.

“I will crush you and kill you with my love, and hugs, and kisses, and cuddles—everything. Don’t make me buy us engagement rings. So, until you plead guilty; that you are absolutely serious.”

John can no longer hold his smile. His eyes’ basically twinkling stars. Cheeks pinkier than the electronic store’s neon sign.

“Then I plead guilty.”

He cupped your cheeks and pushes his lips on yours. You closed your eyes, savouring the sweet taste of his mouth—it taste like cheesecake! He ate one before you that bastard! You punishes him by not letting him let go to breath. After couple more seconds that you wish were forever, you finally part lips.

“You are a demon!” He exclaimed, voice breaking as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. But he’s smiling wide.

“Oh you have no idea, and in fact, I could show you more if you’d like?” You say cheekily as you encircle him like a hungry shark.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“I will personally guarantee it.”

And you both smiled as your hand's links.

End (?).

+ ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— - ———— + ———— -

Omfg, it’s been long time since I write a reader-insert fan fiction, so writing this kinda makes me blush, especially at the end 😳😳😳😵😵

I really hope you enjoy it! There’s a big potential for this particular Tomboy!Reader’s story to be broadened into a serial, although I’m not sure if I can do it now since I have to study for final exam. But if anyone want to know about it, please let me know! 😉

One more thing! Feel free to request imagines or one-shots! :D