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luvs4matt · 9 months ago

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𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓 ✿ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

“please, please let me suck your tits, please, i’ll make you feel good i swear please”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - sub!matt x dom!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - matt being a brat all day towards his girlfriend leads to him being punished.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - swearing, slight angst, smut, oral (m), handjob, p in v, cream pie, squirting, overstimulation, mommy kink (if you squint), orgasm denial, unprotected sex, after care, no use of y/n

with love and stems, cherry ღღ

𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓, 𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 film with nick and chris a little over an hour ago, which means he should be home soon.

you decided to take a shower to relieve any tension from today, as you were rinsing the soap off of your body you heard you and matts shared bedroom door close.

he was home.

when you stepped out of the shower you wrapped yourself in a towel and walk back into the bedroom to see matt laying on the bed, “hey” hoping he will respond back to you so hopefully you don’t go to bed pissed at each other.

he didn’t respond. you try to ignore it as you continue to put on your panties and oversized shirt but when you sat on the bed with him and asked “when did you get home” and all you get in response was a eye roll you couldn’t hold your anger back anymore.

“matt what the fuck is up with you today, you have been being a brat all day, cut the shit, what happened for you to act like this?”

“i haven’t been being a brat, i just don’t want to fucking talk, or maybe i just need a break, fuck i hate you sometimes” as he was talking his shirt had rolled up which made you spot his raging erection poking through his grey sweats.

“or maybe you just want to get fucked” you say in a low tone as you move your position to straddle his waist, “what” he chokes out.

you start to palm his erection over his clothing causing him to let out a whimper “if you wanted to be fucked so bad you could have said something” you slowly start to kiss his jaw line moving down to his neck sucking and biting on all of his sweet spots.

“please” he whimpers “what baby” you mumble into his neck continuing to leave marks on his flesh, “no teasing” after how he acted today you were definitely going to tease him.

stopping your work on his skin “oh baby after everything today you deserve the teasing” you lean into his ear “you don’t even deserve to cum” he lets out a mewl at your words.

you start to unzip his pants, he lifts his hips to help you pull them down along with his boxers, his cock slapping against his shirt that you quickly ended up taking off making him completely naked under you.

perfect.

“p-please let me cum this time please” you had edged him 4 times in a row “aww baby you think you have been good enough to cum” he immediately replies with a loud moan “i need words” “y-yes yes yes, i-i have b-been so good i learned my lesson please just let me cum” he rushes.

you feel his dick twitch in your hand “cum baby” immediately after you gave him permission he came.

long white spurts of cum coming out of his slit, he quickly jolted his hips up into your hand as you lay your palm on his tip rubbing quick circular motions “fuck” he groans.

“remember all that shit you were talking, saying you hate me” you start moving your hand faster on his tip overstimulating him “ i do fucking hate you” he laughs.

“yeah?” you question “ye- FUCK oh my god” before he could give you a proper reply you remove your palm from his cock and quickly replace it with your mouth.

“i’m gonna cum” he whimpers, you respond by taking every inch of him in your mouth making him quickly shoot his seed in the back of your throat.

you were soaked with him under you, you take off your shirt, then your panties, he was staring at your body in awe “you like looking baby?” you asked as you straddle his lap once again, he shakes his head yes, he wont admit it but even though he was extremely sensitive he was already hard from staring at your tits.

“please” you know what he wants based on the fact his eyes were stuck on your nipples “please what baby, what do u want” softly grinding on his cock as you tease him with your words only makes him whine under you.

“please, please let me suck your tits, please, i’ll make you feel good i swear please” the way he moans while he begs made you crave his mouth on the soft flesh “go ahead baby”

he immediately attaches his mouth to your nipple sucking and biting making you throw your head pleasure, you could feel his growing erection under your pussy as you were still grinding down onto him.

he removes his mouth from your nipple when you lift up to line his sensitive cock up with your soaked hole slowly sinking down on it making both of you moan.

you immediately started bouncing up and down on him “please mo-baby i’m so sensitive” he begs even though it felt so good.

you knew what he was going to say “please who?” “m-mommy” he whimpers out “you know your word if u need me to stop”

“i-i’m gonna c- fuck c-cum” he stutters “its only been a couple minutes, you gonna cum quick baby boy” he cant help but moan at your words.

he spills his seed inside of your tight cunt, but you kept moving you were chasing your own high, you both try to kiss but all you can do is have your mouth hang open with moans and whimpers coming out you guys stayed like that for multiple minutes being overwhelmed by pleasure.

“i’m gonna cum mommy” he moans “me to baby” matts grip on your waist tightens as your movements become uneven and faster you were so close.

matt lets out a loud moan as he releases inside of you for the second time tonight, but this time it sets something off in you, your juices fly out of your hole squirting everywhere.

once you both ride out your highs you slowly lift yourself off of him and walk out of the room walking back with a wet cloth cleaning both of you up.

after your both settled in bed cuddling you asked him “i didn’t hurt you did i” looking up at him “god no” he laughs making you laugh as well.

“you know i don’t hate you right?” he looks like he feels bad about saying it “i know” you smile at him before you both fell asleep.

chris and nick did infact yell at them about it the next morning.

a/n - this is my first fic so don’t judge or i will infact wear shoes on your brand new white bed sheets 😁.

#smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sub male character #luvs4matt #©luvs4matt

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fkinkindagauche · 1 month ago

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There's A Devil Waiting Outside Your Door

This one is for @stmonstercalendar's first Monster of the Month, Krampus.

Rating: Mature | WC: 1091 | Tags: Mild sexual content, BDSM themes, Monsterfucker Steve Harrington | CW: Accidental voyeurism by underage characters (they stumble upon some brief birch rod spanking, but they get noticed right away and it stops)

Title from "Loverman" by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds.

Lucas and Dustin were ready. Tonight was the night. They were finally going to obtain actual footage of the monster people had been seeing around Hawkins since the night of December 5th.

It started with a few terrified sightings by children. Dustin picked up the chatter on the police scanner Suzie had made for him. Parents were calling in reporting that their children had seen a very hairy man lurking outside their houses wearing horns.

The Satanic panic set in full force at that point, and more and more sightings were reported in the coming weeks. Always at night, and always in neighborhoods. Dustin ignored it at first, thinking it was just some sort of misunderstanding that got blown out of proportion.

But then Lucas had seen it. He’d been up late trying to finish a present he was making for Max in an attempt to patch up their most recent fight. He’d caught a glimpse of movement outside his bedroom window. When he looked up, a very large creature was walking through his backyard.

It was a bipedal, but covered in dark hair from head to toe, with large horns on its head. Its tongue was huge, lolling out of its mouth as it walked. It was whipping a tail back and forth, and Lucas was pretty sure its feet were hooves.

Lucas had tried to get to his Polaroid camera in time, but he couldn’t find it in the mess of his room. By the time he thought to wake Erica up and borrow hers, the creature was long gone.

Which is how Dustin and Lucas ended up outside on Christmas Eve, freezing their asses off as they followed large tracks in the snow.

The evening had started with Dustin listening in on a harried-sounding Hopper radioing his deputies. He was going to respond to a call about the creature in one of the nicer neighborhoods in town. Dustin called Lucas, and they rushed over to the house in question.

Hopper was long gone by the time they got there, but the tracks in the snow weren’t. Dustin and Lucas crept through backyards as they followed the tracks, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. The tracks didn’t approach any of the houses closely; the creature seemed to be heading somewhere with a purpose, just passing through.

Finally, the tracks approached a house, stopping right at the back door. Lucas and Dustin looked up, surprised to see they’d ended up at the Harrington house. Steve was home alone for Christmas, as usual.

“Shit!” Dustin whisper-yelled. “It came for Steve!” He reached into his bag to get his walkie, ready to call the rest of the Party over for a fight.

Lucas put a hand on his arm. “Hold on. It doesn’t look like it broke in.” He reached up and tried the doorknob. It was locked. “It just walked into Steve’s house and locked the door behind itself?”

“Maybe!” Dustin said. “It could be a smart monster.”

Lucas didn’t look convinced. “Something’s weird. Let’s see if we can find another way in before we piss everyone off by making them come out here on Christmas Eve.”

They walked around the back of the house, coming to the sliding glass doors that let out onto the pool. They looked into the house, and were greeted with a truly disturbing sight. Steve was bent over an ottoman, his naked ass in the air, as the creature hit him over and over again across his ass and the tops of his thighs with a stick of some sort of wood.

Lucas and Dustin both yelled before they could stop themselves, and the creature turned to look at them. It was exactly like Lucas had described - black and hairy with huge curved horns and hooves for feet. Its tongue was lolling out of its mouth as it glared at the kids.

They could hear Steve’s voice saying something, lacking the urgency they would have expected. A low rumble answered from the creature, and Steve stood up, grasping a pillow in front of himself.

He rolled his eyes as soon as they landed on Dustin and Lucas. Not the reaction Dustin was expecting. Steve opened the sliding glass door and put the hand that wasn’t holding the pillow on his hip.

“What the fuck are you twerps doing here?” he asked.

“W-we were tracking the m-monster,” Lucas stammered, eyes darting to the monster.

“Steve, do you need help?” Dustin asked, moving to go into the house. He wasn’t sure what he could do to take on the monster, but he’d try.

“No, I don’t need help,” Steve snapped. “I was having a really nice evening until you interrupted.”

Dustin and Lucas stared at each other, mouths gaping open. “But it was hitting you, Steve,” Lucas whispered.

“I asked him to,” Steve replied. “You’ll get it when you’re older. Maybe.”

“But - what is it?” Dustin asked, peering over at the creature.

“He is Krampus,” Steve said. “He keeps me company over the holidays. He found me here by myself last year, moping, and decided to come back this year so I wouldn’t be lonely.”

“So…” Lucas started. “You don’t need a rescue?”

“I only need a rescue from you two,” Steve said pointedly. “Please go do normal kid things for Christmas Eve.”

“Steve, we’re sixteen,” Dustin protested. He hated it when Steve called them kids.

“Can we get a picture before we go?” Lucas asked, remembering the whole reason they’d gone out tonight.

Steve looked over at Krampus, raising his eyebrows.

“Sure, why not?” the monster said. His voice was deep and rumbly, but he spoke perfect English.

Dustin scrambled in his backpack for his camera, handing it to Steve. Then he and Lucas came inside and clustered on either side of Krampus, smiling wide. Steve snapped the picture.

He handed the Polaroid and the camera to Dustin, and nodded toward the door. “Now, scram, assholes.”

Dustin and Lucas left in a hurry, whispering excitedly.

“Sorry about that. They can be a little protective,” Steve said, once the kids left.

“It’s fine,” Krampus rumbled. “Seem like nice kids.”

“I’m sure they’ve committed their fair share of birch rod-worthy offenses,” Steve joked.

“The birch rod’s only for you this year, baby,” Krampus said. “Wanna sit on my cock and watch It’s A Wonderful Life?”

Steve spent the rest of the evening full of Krampus, pressed back against the soft fur covering his body as Krampus repeatedly got him off. It was a wonderful life.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics

#steve harrington #monsterfucker steve harrington #st fic #stranger things fic #stranger things #krampus #steve harrington x krampus #bottom steve harrington #my fics

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mrs-snape5984 · 7 months ago

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“I was held in chains but now I’m free…”

“Hey, little train! Wait for me! I once was blind but now I see. Have you left a seat for me? Is that such a stretch of the imagination?” (“O Children” by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds)

I feel obligated to set up a trigger warning on this post, since I’m mentioning thoughts of suicidal ideation in my text. If you’re feeling uncomfortable with this topic, please feel free to ignore the following four paragraphs and skip right to my praise for the incredibly talented artist of this comic strip.

As already mentioned in some of my latest posts, I’ve commissioned some of my favourite artists here on tumblr for a special project of mine: My afterlife project.

I’m suffering from multiple autoimmune disorders, which probably have paved the way for this bitch of a disease, ME/CFS (myalgic encephalomyelitis/chronic fatigue syndrome), two years ago. Sure, my life already wasn’t the easiest before, but since then, it came to a standstill. More and more, I lost my abilities, my social life, my place in the society…and surely even my participation in my own family. My days are mostly spent in bed all day and night, surrounded only by darkness and solitude.

Patients with severe ME/CFS might die earlier than expected, due to multiple organ failure and - yes, I have to admit, that this reason is, indeed, undeniably relatable (and alluring) to me - suicide. With each passing day, that I’m doomed to “live” with these confines of my personal hell… imprisoned within myself without any chance to escape… death appears to be a welcoming friend, who’s only awaiting to pull me into a tight embrace. For me, it’s like it’s written in the following poem (“Joy in Death”) of Emily Dickinson…it will be good news and maybe even a relief…not just for me.

I know, I can’t leave, yet… and that I have to stay as long as endurable - at least for my children’s sake - but… yeah, BUT… but, damn, I’m tired. My personal limits are set… my lines are drawn… my responsibilities are cleared and both of my closest friends are informed about my pathetic little wishes (please, play that goddamn song for me!). I’m prepared. But for now, I have to stay…. to fight a little longer… to be a mom, even though my kids only see me for a few minutes each day… a mere shadow of the mother, they used to know. It’s a fucking shame!

For this particular part of my afterlife project, I’ve commissioned my sweet friend @sleepybradipo, who will always be my first choice to draw my vision of the young Severus in his own uniquely tender art style, which I’m so weak for.

In my imagination, I will be able to choose, how my eternal life will look like. Finally, I’ll be with Severus! We’ll meet at the age of 11 years and eventually spend the rest of our lives side by side...growing old together. Severus and Jukes will finally get the life, they’ve always deserved to have. I’ve started to show sections of this existence by Severus’ side in some of my other posts, which belong to this project. It may sound strange and pathetic (obviously), but this is all, that I'm wishing for. I want to come home to him.

For this artwork, I asked @sleepybradipo to make the process of “renewing” visible…almost like some kind of resurrection! Jules is stripping off her old, exhausted self, only to be 11 years old again…happily running towards the 11 years old Severus, who’s waiting for her.

Ivano, at first, I felt guilty for my request for this commission. I’m constantly afraid of becoming a burden to others with my ridiculously morbid thoughts and ideas. But you, my dear friend, made me feel seen with your kindness and compassion. Your understanding of my fantasy and the way, you’ve realised it in this mesmerising piece of art, are absolutely breathtaking! I don’t know, how I could possibly show enough gratitude to express, what your art is doing to my black little heart. It’s like a bandage…a soothing balm… a comforting embrace. Thank you for everything, Ivano.

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

PS: I have to apologise for my repetive use of terms in my writing this time. The lack of coherence might be caused by my current “crashing” condition and a weird cocktail of different medications. I’ll try better next time, but it was important for me, to show this heart-wrenching composition of art as soon as possible. Your work needs to be seen, Ivano!

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 2 years ago

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💗 // my blog is @peacexatxlast 🧡

"It don't mean we can't believe in something, and anyway my baby's coming back now on the next train. I can hear the whistle blowing. I can hear the nightly roar. I can hear the horses prancing in the pastures of the Lord. Oh, the train is coming, and I'm standing here to see. And it's bringing my baby right back to me. Well, there are some things too hard to explain. But my baby's coming home now, on the 5:30 train." - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds | "Bright Horses"

Hey @peacexatxlast, I hope you love your Tommy moodboard!

Send me a 💗 in my ask, and I’ll make you a moodboard for one of your blog’s celebs or muses or surprise you!

#ask games #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #ktk responds #peaky blinders #mooboard #tv: peaky blinders #c: thomas shelby #c: tommy shelby #ktk fav: shows #netflix #lyrics #music #bright horses #nick came and the bad seeds

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tagmusicblog · 9 months ago

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"Even my mum seemed to sense there was something different about me. I remember vividly one night, apropos of nothing in particular, my mother confided in me that she once she once had a transvestite friend named Greta. She didn't go into detail, simply explaining to me that Greta was a man who dressed as a woman, and had sex with men - as a woman. [...] Maybe mum saw my interest in gender-bending, and suspected she had a homosexual son, and that was just her way of letting me know that not only did she understand, but she accepted me."

Kid Congo Powers, Some New Kind Of Kick

#got me feelin shit man #my mama did the same thing. always bringing up this trans kid she knew #once my brother came into my room to talk #which we'd never done #and all he did was tell me about how kendrick lamar had written a song about his trans aunt/uncle #family know. they know and they do what they can to let you know they'll be there whenever youre ready #to think we had the same experience in such different times #such different contexts #queerness will always be something that connects us #kid congo powers #the gun club #the cramps #nick cave and the bad seeds #die haut #goth #post punk #punk #queer history #:3

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emeritusemeritus · 3 months ago

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Hey Little Train 3 [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Series Masterlist

Title: Hey Little Train 3/5 (5 part mini series)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader {Established Relationship/ Engaged}

Timeline: Set immediately after the war up to 4 years later.

Summary: The memoirs of a broken woman after the death of her beloved.

Warnings: SAD FIC. This one will hurt. Mentions of death, grief, depression, suidical thoughts. Suicide. Loss and pain, a lot of crying. Smut, sexual references, graphic sex. Dreams. Female reader.

Word count: 1.5k

Heavily inspired by Nick Cave & the bad seeds’ ‘O Children’, the unofficial song of Harry Potter.

Hey, little train! Wait for me!

I once was blind but now I see

Have you left a seat for me?

Is that such a stretch of the imagination?

The days following Fred's death were spent in sheer torment, and endless cycle of pain that did not relent. The days bled into weeks and the weeks into months with little let up on the sheer agony you faced every moment of every day. Nothing could calm you, nothing could pull you out of your sorrowful reverie, your entire being consumed by the excruciating pain you were forced to endure.

The months began to bleed into years and there was little improvement in your healing, though you pretended to all others that there was. A year after Fred's death, after the anniversary of the battle of hogwarts, the dreaded date that made you sick at the very thought, you realised that you couldn't do this forever. It didn't change anything, your new perspective, except that it gave others hope for you. It made others feel better about themselves to see you coming back to life, to see that you were strong and brave, to power on without him.

It couldn't be more wrong. You lived a lie. You wore a mask every time you were out of the house, pretending to be a human again. You smiled, conversed even sometimes laughed, though it was hollow and fictitious- not that anyone ever seemed to notice.

You went out again with your friends, rekindling what had been lost in the spoils of war and you conversed excitedly, learning about their lives and how they were progressing, skirting the more invasive questions that were asked of you and performing your well rehearsed lines with perfect timing and cadence to assure them that you were doing okay.

You were far from okay. The second you'd slip away, returning to the hollow little flat you never called home, you were back to your sombre self, devoid of all laughter or hope. You weren't a psychopath, you didn't have multiple personalities nor a impulsive need to pretend- you were simply a broken person trapped in the past, unable to move past the point that your life fell apart.

You rarely cried now, except for the really hard days and instead seemed to exist in a state of limbo and pretence that left you perpetually exhausted.

George had caught you off guard one day when he came into your workplace, asking you to meet him for a drink after your shift. You couldn't say no, not to him. He caught you off guard once again, later that evening, when he told you he was getting married. Angelina Johnson, your friend right from childhood, was going to be Angelina Weasley.

You knew they were dating of course, at least you think you did. She'd told you excitedly of them getting together one night and George had been continuous with the excited details of their progressing relationship. You were happy for them, truthfully, honestly somewhere deep down you felt happy that they found each other but you were ripe with jealously. Not with her, but with the world. You'd been nicknamed Mrs Weasley since your fifth or sixth year at school, been in love with the same boy since you were 12 and were so, so close to starting your life together as a married couple. The ring on your finger, the one that was never removed, seemed like a lead weight upon you now. You'd never be Mrs Weasley, never be a Mrs at all, but someone else would.

Right from the off you could tell their wedding was to be a fanciful affair, with Angelina's parents footing the bill for their only daughter's wedding that seemed timeless and classic, if not slightly over the top. But they seemed happy.

You put a smile on your face, carried the flowers dutifully in your hand as you walked down the aisle in procession with the rest of the bridesmaids, trying desperately not to look at George, not wanting to even get the notion that it could be Fred stood there awaiting you. As you stood by Angelina's side with a dutiful smile, you couldn't help but look out at the guests sat in the arranged seats once the officiant began. Yourself and Ginny had been bridesmaids, with Ron being George's best man, but all the other Weasleys and their partners were grouped together in the rows of people, looking in awe at the couple. Molly and Arthur looked as proud as could be, Molly with tears in her eyes as she watched George say his vows.

You felt your heart stop when you noticed the empty seat on the front row with a single photo frame placed upon it and a single sign: reserved for Fred Weasley. You did everything you could not to react, holding in the violent sob that needed to break free. Your breathing quickened and you did everything you could to remain nonchalant about the heartbreaking scene before you, clutching your flowers with such a hard grip that you could feel the uncut thorns from the roses begin to dig into your fingertip. You pressed in deeper, feeling a catharsis in the pain of the thorn, as if the physical pain balanced the emotional pain you faced. You could feel your finger begin to bleed but you still didn't stop, ensuring instead that no blood dripped from your finger onto your silk dress, keeping the wound tightly pressed to the little sash that was providing almost no protection from the thorns.

The sight of the empty seat threatened to unveil you, to undo all the hard work you'd put in to act as perfectly normal as possible. It broke you from the inside out, mostly for George and that the most special day of his life would always be tainted by the loss of his other half, the inbuilt best man from birth.

You brushed it off, fighting to regain your composure and cursed yourself to not look at the photo upon the chair even one more time.

The speeches and the dinner had been almost too much for you to bear, every passing minute feeling excruciating as you sat beside your friends but still entirely alone, feeling like that singular empty chair had followed you around for the rest of the day, the empty void. You'd survived but only barely.

The second you walked into your apartment, you collapsed against the closed wooden door and sobbed with anguished cries until you felt lightheaded and voice became hoarse. You ripped away the bridesmaid dress from your body and climbed into bed desperately gripping one of Fred's knitted jumpers and cried evermore. You wanted to claw at your skin with the anguish, to claw your way out of your human form and somehow rid yourself of the pain. You wanted to wash away the horrors of the day but you were too exhausted to shower, too sinful to absolve yourself of any of the pain.

You pictured Angelina waking up the next morning with the shiny new ring on her finger and her new husband beside her, giggling at her new title still in disbelief it had all happened. You dreamed of that with Fred, had dreamt of that since he first mentioned marriage all those years ago, unashamedly announcing that he was going to marry you after you'd bender the truth to get him and George out of trouble. From that initial joke came a running joke in your relationship that he would marry you, though it wasn't a joke at all, you knew he was dead serious. He'd say it as an act of love, an expression that meant more to him than those three words and when drunk, he'd proudly tell anyone willing to hear that it was a fact.

But it would never be, not now. No longer did you dream of that morning that you'd wake up and be legally bound both body and soul to Fred Weasley, because he didn't exist anymore- and neither did you, not really.

You looked down at the glittering ring on your left hand, seeing it shine against the golden threads of Fred's green jumper and briefly considered for the first time in years to take it off. Would the removal of the ring free you from your purgatory, from the promise you'd made to a dead man that gifted away your happiness with him? The very thought filled you with shame, your stomach roiling at the very thought of giving up on him like that, even if his side of the promise could never be fulfilled, you'd be damned if you broke the unspoken vow to him.

Instead you kept the ring on and kept your promise entirely, the promise to be his for eternity, in life and in death.

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley death #sad fic

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dustedmagazine · 9 days ago

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A good year for music if nothing else: Jennifer Kelly’s 2024 review

Ben Chasny came to VT in 2024, go figure.

Things have been feeling very end of the world for a few years now, and 2024 (especially from November on) only intensified my sense of doom. It’ll get worse, too, in 2025. The vilest, stupidest people on earth are in change, and oh boy, do they have a lot of ideas, all of them bad.

But you lived through last year, too, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get to experience whatever hell 2025 brings. It’s scary shit, but also deeply tedious, so let’s talk about music instead.

Because music came through in a big way this year. There was so much of it, and so much that was great.

Live music, for instance, continued to flourish, even in very small markets like Western Massachusetts and southern Vermont and New Hampshire. Bang, right off the bat, we caught Makaya McCraven in February holding court at Brattleboro’s Vermont Jazz Center. With Junius Paul, Brandee Younger and Marquis Hill, he hit the highlights from 2022’s In these Times, mixing up trad jazz, improvisation and hip hop in an intricate mesh, and it was wonderful.

Makaya McCraven and friends

Now let’s jump ahead to May and the always remarkable Thing in the Spring, where Myriam Gendron (with Jim White and Marisa Anderson), Mark Ribot, Earth and many others visited Keene, NH. Wadada Leo Smith played an astonishing set with Shazad Ismaily…even more astonishing, he had to yell at the crowd for quiet.

I even had the chance to see a couple of bands that rarely play live. In August, my friend Chris Liberato booked the super-ish group Winged Wheel to play at a nondescript bar near Springfield Mass. It was revelatory, worth getting lost trying to find 91 in the middle of the night afterwards.

Winged Wheel

Then in November, right around the time, things started getting dark, I hit the lottery. First Haley Fohr and Bill Nace raised the spirits in Keene, a day later the NYC post-punk legends Love Child with Lupo Citta in Easthampton, and a couple of days after that, Ben Chasney and Tashi Dorji in Brattleboro in front of the towering pipe organ at Epsilon Spires.

Love Child

Tashi Dorji

Recorded music came in an avalanche in 2024, just so many good records, month after month after month. I narrowed my favorites down to a list of 42, harder than you’d think, and there are plenty of discs I enjoyed plenty that didn’t make the cut.

Top Ten

Rosali—Bite Down (Merge) My favorite all year long for Rosali’s lovely voice, the instant classic-ness of the songs and the kicking band in Mowed Sound.

Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds—Wild God (PIAS) What I’d really like is another Grinderman, but this lush, string-heavy iteration of the Cave art form is very fine in its own way, not least because it leans on the Bad Seeds more heavily than the last couple. Time for joy indeed.

The Cure—Songs for a Lost World (Polydor) It is not easy to crack my top five in November, but Robert Smith did it with the bleak, soul-stirring grandeur of this late-life epic. It doesn’t hurt that he still sounds exactly like he did in my misspent youth.

Oneida—Expensive Air (Joyful Noise) Oneida has been my favorite working band for decades, and this one follows the song-structured Success with more bangers but also more weirdness. Thalia Zedek sings on two tracks with her signature ragged power.

Miriam Gendron—Mayday (Thrill Jockey) These are just surpassingly beautiful songs about love and death, gorgeously played and sung. Gendron continues to get more comfortable with her art, taking a few more well-worth-it steps from her folk music origins.

PYPY—Sacred Times (Goner) Unhinged post-punk from one of the best in Montreal’s thriving scene. “Lonely Striped Sock” crosses ESG with Delta Five and contains the craziest keyboard lick I’ve heard this year.

MJ Lenderman—Manning Fireworks (ANTI-) One of 2024’s consensus favorites, and for all that, more idiosyncratic and complicated than you’d expect. Genuinely intriguing writing coupled with an incendiary rock roar.

Cassandra Jenkins—My Light My Destroyer (Dead Oceans) A bigger, denser, more accomplished sound for Jenkins than on her magical debut, but no less quirkily intelligent for its beauty.

Mdou Moctar—Funeral for Justice (Matador) Mdou Moctar is maybe the best guitarist in rock music right now, and here’s the kicker, he’s not really in rock music. Searing, wrenching, politically charged Afro-rock from the master.

Another Dancer—I Try to Be Another Dancer (Bruit Direct Disques) This charmingly odd Brussels ensemble skips from detuned Lewsberg-style minimalism to glowing Stereolab raves. Unexpected and intoxicating.

The rest

Winged Wheel—Big Hotel (12XU)

Uranium Club—Infants Under the Bulb (Static Shock)

E—Living Waters (Silver Rocket)

Luppo Citta—S-T (12XU)

Six Organs��Time Is Glass (Drag City)

Des Demonas—Apocalyptic Boom Boom (In the Red)

Guided by Voices—Strut of Kings (GBV Inc.)

Weak Signal—Fine (12XU)

Bonnie “Prince” Billy—Hear the Children/The Evidence (No Quarter)

Yasmin Williams—Acadia (Nonesuch)

Bill Mackay—Locust Land (Drag City)

Hard Quartet—S-T (matador)

The Bug Club—On the Intricate Inner Workings of the System (Sub Pop)

Black Pus—Terrestrial Seethings (Thrill Jockey)

Dummy—Free Energy (Trouble in Mind)

Horse Jumper of Love—Disaster Trick (Run for Cover)

Itasca—Imitation of War (Paradise of Bachelors)

West of Roan—Queen of Eyes (Spinster)

James Elkington & Nathan Salsburg—All Gist (Paradise of Bachelors)

Workers Comp—S-T (Ever/Never)

Jessica Pratt—Here in the Pitch (Mexican Summer)

Aluminum—Fully Beat (felte)

Mary Timony—Untame the Tiger (Merge)

Mount Eerie—Night Palace (P.W. Elverum & Sun)

Penny Arcade—Backwater Collage (Tapete)

Rail Band—S-T (Mississippi)

The Softies—The Bed I Made (Father/Daughter)

Thine Retail Simps—Strike Gold Strike Back Strike Out (Total Punk)

Unknowns—East Coast Low (Drunken Sailor)

Ava Mendoza—Circular Train (Palilia)

Ned Collette—Our Other History (ever/never)

Amelia Courthouse—broken things (Spinster)

The Osees—Sorc 80 (Castle Face)

#yearend 2024 #jennifer kelly #dusted magazine #makaya mccraven #ben chasny #wadada leo smith #shazad ismaily #rosali #nick cave and the bad seeds #the cure #oneida #myriam gendron #pypy #mj lenderman #cassandra jenkins #mdou moctar #another dancer

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goldencherriess · 2 years ago

Text

Soulmates.

Masterlist || Main masterlist

Pairing: Young! Remus Lupin x McKinnon! Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: Y/N McKinnon and Remus Lupin are the definition of soulmates. Best friends since forever, they know each other to the smallest detail. But a Wizarding War threatens to tear them apart.

Warnings: canon-compliant, major character death (oops!), angst, fluff, best friends to lovers, love confessions, soft eyes, lots of hand holding, Jily

"What's a soulmate?"

"It's, uh, well it's like a best friend but more."

Y/N McKinnon was a soft soul. Remus knew this much, from the twinkle in her eyes to the shy smile on her lips. He knew that she was quieter than her sister, Marlene, but was never afraid to voice her beliefs. He knew that she liked to read classics, burrowing them from him. She always returned them as though they hadn't even been read feverishly. And he also knew that she was a lover of jasmine tea and of stars.

And she was also his best friend.

“Do they end up together?” she asked one morning as she sat beside him in The Great Hall.

Remus frowned. “Who?” he replied, putting down the still steaming cup of tea on which he was sipping. The sweet aroma of jasmine still lingered on his tongue. Her tastes were rubbing off on him.

Y/N huffed, rolling her eyes as she did so and thrusting a book in front of his eyes. Curved, intricate letters spelled Little women. “Jo and Laurie.”

A crooked smile blossomed on his lips. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No,” she said, as she turned to put some toast on her plate along with a few eggs.

Comfortable silence settled between them as Remus resumed enjoying his tea.

“I think they should,” she eventually voiced, after biting down on a toast.

“What?”

“Jo and Laurie. I think they should end up together. They’re best friends.”

Remus’ throat tightened and it seemed as though the world stopped moving. Best friends. He told himself that he shouldn’t read too much into it, they were just discussing a piece of literature, but then Sirius’ voice popped up in his head (“You’re really thick, Moony. She fancies you!”) and he was suddenly hyper aware of his thigh touching hers, and of his elbow touching hers and he slid away a few millimeters just to breathe. “Right,” he croaked out.

Maybe Sirius was right after all.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“It’s the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else.”

Y/N could tell from the wrinkles in his eyebrows and the dark circles under his eyes that Remus didn’t sleep the night before. It was often that she found him in this state, staring blankly at the flames dancing in the fireplace of the Gryffindor Common Room. She never questioned him, she figured that if he ever felt the need to support his weight he’d come to her, letting his tears fall onto her shoulders.

She was patient, sitting beside him on the couch and watching his chest rise and fall with every breath he took. She counted them, listening in to his breathing and to the crackling of the fire.

At the tenth one, he spoke up, his voice resembling that of a broken glass. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N let her eyes roam across his side of the face. There were a few new scars slashing across the freckles. “What for?” she replied quietly.

Remus’ shoulders slacked. He opened his mouth to reply but no word came out.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re going through something.” She let her cold hand fall against his warm one. He was always the one with the warmest hands. “Take all the time you need, Rem. I’m not going anywhere. Whenever you need me, I’ll be here. Always here.”

Remus thought at that moment that he was lucky to have her. He wanted to tell her that, but words failed him. So, he settled on giving her a kiss on her forehead. A waft of roses tickled his nostrils and he immediately recognized her shampoo. Sweet and soft. Just like her.

She smiled, squeezing his hand. “I brought you something.”

Remus chuckled, turning his hand to wrap his fingers around hers. He was pretty sure his heart would burst out of his chest anytime now. “Really?”

She hummed, getting something out from her pocket. A silver wrapper rustled in her free hand, glimmering against the orange of the flames. A saccharine smell rose and enveloped them both. Chocolate. “I know how much you love chocolate and I saw how down you looked this whole day, so I just bought some from Honeydukes.”

Remus felt his blood rushing to the top of his head, his hands got all clammy and he feared that Y/N would figure him out. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. She bore a soft smile on her lips. “Wanna share?” he asked.

“I’d love to.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“It's someone who makes you a better person. Actually, they don't make you a better person, you do that yourself - because they inspire you.”

More than once, Y/N found that being with Remus made it all so much easier. Being with him erased the tumultuous barriers of the approaching Wizarding War. The Daily Prophet brought dark news every morning. She usually skimmed through those, before giving the newspaper to Remus, knowing he’d read it thoroughly. She’d then turn to exchange some girly gossip with Lily, Marlene and Dorcas (“Potter asked me out again,” Lily would say for the fourth time that week). Afterwards, Y/N would turn to throw a smile towards Remus, just so he could know she was still there with him.

This time though, she gripped the newspaper until her knuckles turned white. More than three muggle attacks occurred in the past few days and she was growing anxious. Remus got ahold of the newspaper, lowering it before lightly touching her hand. “Hey, you alright?”

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll turn out like him?”

Remus dropped his gaze to the headline of the Daily Prophet: “He Who Must Not Be Named strikes again, dark forces on the rise.”

“No. Do you?”

“Sometimes,” she sighed, slowly letting the newspaper fall into Remus’ hand.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

The newspaper was now on the table in front of them, the headline screaming at her, black letters taking up most of the page, a moving picture with houses on fire staring at her. “I’m just afraid that one day I won't be able to recognize myself. That I will look into the mirror and see a stranger, that things beyond my power will change me.”

Remus’ voice reached her ears in the form of a soft whisper. “I’m sure that’ll never be the case, Y/N.”

She turned to look at him, eyes glossy. “How can you be so sure?”

He smiled, meeting her gaze. “Because I know you. You’re one of the kindest people I know. If you are ever to get lost, I’m sure you would find your way. And if you don’t, I’ll be there to guide you.”

Her smile mirrored his, cold hands meeting warm ones.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever.”

Years passed and soon enough, Y/N received the wedding invitation of James and Lily. The redhead delivered it to her in person, insisting she had to tell her something. Marlene was off to the Ministry with some work that day, while their parents were taking the tea in the back garden. She was just putting another kettle on, intending to make jasmine tea for herself, when Lily apparated at her doorstep. A knock was heard at the door, and Y/N was pulled from her wandering thoughts. She took wide strides, passing the moving pictures on the walls of her and her sister from when they were little, and opened the door. A kind smile and a mop of red hair greeted her.

“Lily! Hi! Come in, I was just making tea!” she said as she hurriedly hugged her.

“Thank you,” replied Lily entering the house and taking a seat on the couch.

“I’ll be right back! You sit here, alright?” said Y/N, just as she took off towards the kitchen. She pulled out two cups from the cupboard, intricate flowers gleaming on the porcelain. The kettle whistled and she took it off the stove, pouring the tea in each cup. The sweet aroma of jasmine enveloped her in warm embraces. “Would you like sugar or milk for your tea?” she yelled, hoping that Lilly heard her.

“Just sugar for me, please! Two cubes!”

“Coming right up!” She put two cubes in Lily’s cup and three in hers, before she turned to leave the kitchen, hands holding steaming cups.

“How’s Marls?” Lily asked as she saw her entering the living room.

“Oh, she’s alright. Busy with work. How’s James?” Y/N smiled as she took a seat across from her, in an old armchair.

At that, Lily blushed and gave her the envelope she was hiding in the pockets of her dress. Y/N threw her a confused look, before opening it, sparkling paper soft against her hands.

James Potter and Lily Evans cordially invite you to their wedding

Y/N gasped, before looking up at Lily, meeting her emerald gaze. “Oh, Lily! This is amazing! Congratulations!” Her gaze slipped towards Lily’s left hand, wondering how she didn’t notice the ring sparkling there. The stone had the same colour of her eyes. Emerald.

“I want you to be my maid of honour, Y/N,” Lily replied with eagerness, taking ahold of Y/N’s hands. “Please, will you be my maid of honour?”

“Of course I will!”

And this is how Y/N found herself giving the Maid of Honour speech in front of one hundred people (most of the guests were from James’ side, family and relatives. Lily only invited her sister, who unfortunately didn’t show up). She was growing hot under the attentive gazes of everyone, her dress starting to itch. Her eyes slipped across the crowd, until they met with honeyed ones. Remus. Her best friend. He gave her a reassuring smile. She cleared her throat. “I’m not going to say much. There isn’t really much to be said, when everyone can see how hopelessly in love they are with each other. I’m only going to say that I had the honour to see how their love blossomed, it took James six years to finally get a date with her, and another three to marry her but he did prove to be successful.” The crowd roared in laughter. Y/N’s eyes didn’t stray away from Remus. “Here’s to forever!”

The guests whooped and clinked their champagne glasses together, while Y/N got off the stage, knees buckling. Remus met her halfway, touching her arm. He was bearing a wide smile, his eyes twinkling under the low light. “That must have been the shortest Maid of Honour speech I have ever heard.”

She rolled her eyes. “How many did you actually hear?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“None. Yours was the first.”

She smirked before a slow song started to play, couples shuffling to the dance floor, champagne long forgotten. James was bowing to Lily, asking for a dance and she laughed before getting ahold of his elbow and dragging him to the dance floor. Y/N smiled at the sight before turning to look at Remus.

He looked so achingly beautiful. His sandy hair was ruffled from the many times he ran his hands through it, honey eyes shining under the fairy lights, white shirt unbuttoned at the top and tie loosened. He was softly smiling at her and she felt herself melting. “Would you like to dance?”

She blinked before nodding. “Yeah,” she whispered, but she was pretty sure he heard her nonetheless. His warm hands touched her cold ones, guiding her towards the dance floor while walking backwards, not once taking his gaze off of her. They stopped at the edge of the dance floor, one of his hands slipping to hold her waist, the other still gently touching hers. He started leading them in a slow dance, humming under his breath.

It must have been the champagne getting to her head, because she found herself boldly asking the question that’s been plaguing her mind for years now. “Do they end up together?”

Remus twirled her before holding her closer. “Who?”

“The best friends.”

“You mean Jo and Laurie?” he asked, remembering their conversation from a few years ago.

“No, I mean us.”

Remus’ breath was caught in his throat. His hand tightened around her waist. “Do you want us to?”

She sighed, before meeting his gaze. “I thought I made this obvious, Rem.”

He blinked in an attempt to clear his mind. “When?”

“During our school years. Everyone caught on, except you.”

He suddenly felt out of focus. The lights were blinding him and he felt his feet dancing on nothing. The only thing grounding him was Y/N. “How long?” he found himself speaking up, his voice foreign to him.

Y/N remained silent for a second in his arms. “I think it must’ve been the third year.”

Remus almost choked. “Oh, love, we could have saved so much time,” he replied, before leaning down to capture her lips with his. She was softer than he ever imagined, her signature roses shampoo reached him in waves, getting him drunk and lightheaded. There was a hint of jasmine lingering on her lips and he almost melted when she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer. He pulled away to catch his breath, before leaning his forehead against hers. He was still drunk on jasmine and roses. “Forever?”

She smiled against him, pecking his lips. “Forever.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“It's the one person who knew you and accepted you and believed in you before anyone else did, or when no one else would.”

Dawn was just breaking through when Remus Lupin stumbled through Y/N McKinnon’s front door, blood seeping through his shirt. She was awake, thoughts and worries of The Wizarding War weighing her down. She was just putting a kettle of jasmine tea on the stove when she heard Remus’ harsh breathing and screaming of pain. She stumbled out of the kitchen, knees melting at the sight of him so disheveled. “Merlin, what happened?!” she said as she rushed to him, supporting his weight on her shoulders and guiding him to the couch. She gently lowered him on the soft pillows.

He breathed in through his nose, wincing when his back made contact with the pillows.

“Stay right here, I’ll bring some water and a towel to clean those wounds for you, alright?”

He nodded in response but she was long gone. He let his eyes wander through the living room, gaze catching sight of several moving childhood pictures of Y/N and Marlene. There was one in which little Y/N was biting down on little Marlene’s golden hair. The sloshing of water and the rapid steps of Y/N brought his attention back to her. She knelt beside the couch, unbuttoning his crimson shirt and wetting the towel into the bucket of water. Her hands were shaking. She was trying to hide it, but Remus still saw. “This is gonna sting,” she mumbled, a tremor in her voice.

The wet and cold towel touched his slashing wounds on his chest and Remus felt as though a thousand needles pierced his skin. He hissed through his teeth. “I know, I know, I’m sorry,” said Y/N worriedly. “How did this even happen?”

He shyly met her gaze. “It was a full moon last night.”

Remus expected her to react differently, to widen her eyes and back away from him, to kick him out of her house, to break up with him. Instead, her eyes saddened considerably, casting down to the wounds. “Oh.”

He was surprised he found the courage to speak up. “Do you– do you think less of me now?”

She raised her head in a whiplash, eyes wide. “Why would I? You’re still my Rem, are you not?”

Remus’ lips parted and he stared at her, taking in her wild hair and noticing her tired eyes. Somehow, she still looked beautiful. “I love you,” he blurted out. “I love you, Y/N.”

She released a breath, leaning down towards him. Her lips met his in a short lived kiss. “I love you,” she replied just above a whisper. “I always will.”

The smell of jasmine traveled all the way from the kitchen to the living room, embracing them both in a sweet blanket of aroma.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“ And no matter what happens, you will always love them. Nothing can ever change that.”

The Order of the Phoenix was meeting for the third time that month. Remus bore a skipping in his steps, despite the weight on his shoulders. He would see Y/N again after a whole two weeks of not seeing each other. He left for a mission, while she remained in London, a promise held between them. He apparated at the Order’s Headquarters, before knocking on the door.

“Password?” Alastor Moody's voice came through.

“Lemon sorbet.” Albus Dumbledore was in charge of the passwords.

The door was opened for him and he greeted Moody with a smile. The man just acknowledged him with a nod of his head. “Come on in. The rest are inside.”

Remus advanced through the dark, dingy house before entering the rather poorly furnished living room. His smile weakened at the heavy atmosphere in the room. Everyone looked sullen at best. His gaze searched for Y/N but he didn’t find her.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asked, a worry starting to seep into his voice.

“You haven’t heard?” a glossy eyed Lily asked him.

“Hear what? And where’s Marlene? I don’t see her either.”

“The McKinnons are gone, Moony,” James spoke up, coming near him.

Remus awkwardly laughed. “Gone where? They stayed in London, didn’t they?”

“They’re dead, mate,” a tired Sirius said. “Voldemort got to them.”

Remus felt as though someone stole the earth from under his feet. The room was darkening around him, spinning in circles. His chest tightened and his vision stung and clouded. “No, that can’t be. Just two weeks ago, they were here. I talked to Y/N, she promised we’d get a house somewhere in the countryside and I promised her I’d buy her a proper ring and we’d–” his voice left him. “And Marlene too?”

No one answered him. It was understood.

He fell into a dusty armchair and cried. He let the darkness cloud his mind.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

1995

Harry Potter was following his godfather in an abandoned waiting room at the station. “Sirius, what are you doing here?! If somebody sees you–”

Sirius turned to look at Harry. “I had to see you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t want to see you get shut in Azkaban,” Harry replied, taking a seat beside him on an old, tattered bench.

Sirius waved him off. “Oh, don’t worry about me.” He reached into the pocket of his old coat, which reeked of naphthalene. “Anyway, I wanted you to have this.” He handed him a yellowed photo. Familiar faces smiled up to him. Harry took it in his hands and studied it, recognizing his parents. “The original Order of the Phoenix,” Sirius went on explaining. He pointed to a blonde in the corner of the photo. “Marlene McKinnon. She was killed two weeks after this was taken. Voldemort wiped out her entire family. That’s her sister right there, Y/N.” Harry’s eyes took notice of a petite woman, holding onto Remus’ hand and smiling up to him, before turning towards the camera. Remus leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead before posing for the camera.

“Did Remus know her?” he asked, although he already knew the answer.

He heard Sirius sigh beside him. “Oh, yes. They were the best of friends. Soulmates. It broke him the day she died.”

Harry’s gaze slipped towards a couple in which he saw too much of his housemate and herbology enthusiast friend. “Neville’s parents,” he acknowledged.

“They suffered a fate worse than death, if you ask me,” replied Sirius. He then smiled sadly, looking at the photograph image of Lily and James Potter. “It’s been fourteen years and still a day doesn’t go by when I don’t miss your dad.”

Harry regarded the photo a few more moments, a pang in his heart at the sight of his parents happily together and still alive. “Do you really think there’s going to be a war, Sirius?”

His godfather pondered the question, before replying slowly. “It feels like it did before.”

The raven haired boy went to give him back the photo, but Sirius beat him to it. “You keep it! Anyway, I suppose you’re the young ones, now.”

Harry smiled, looking down once more at the forgotten faces of the original members of the Order of the Phoenix, his eyes again catching the sight of a red faced Y/N and a smiling Remus, before putting the photograph in his pockets. The Hogwarts Express was announcing its departure.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for reading! Just for reference, the soulmate quote isn't mine, it's from a TV show called Dawson's Creek, which I found interesting and sweet so I kinda built this fic around it.

The last scene of this fic used for inspiration is from the fifth Harry Potter movie, even though Alastor Moody is the one who shows Harry the photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix, not Sirius, but it was more accessible to me this way because I haven't reread the books in a long time.

Let me know your thoughts! Every kind of feedback is highly appreciated!

Also, if you'd like to be added to my tag list, just comment under this post or send me an ask! Lots of love xx

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

#Spotify #young remus lupin x reader #young remus x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #the marauders #the marauders x reader #angst #fluff #soulmates au #fanfic writing #my writing #masterlist #laura writes

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stardancerluv · 7 months ago

Text

When the Predator Becomes the Prey

Part 4

Summary: Remembering the beginning.

Notes/Warnings: Language, Implied sex, implied illegal behavior. (Be safe) Shifted the pov to reader…wanted to give a different view of him & her. A little longer of a chapter! Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

❤️s, feedback, comments & reblogs are appreciated.

Your heart was still racing from riding Nicky at the dinner table. Still breathless gripping the white porcelain edge of the pedestal sink you eyed your reflection. Your hair was in complete disarray, your cheeks were flushed and you were certain, he had left bruises on your hips from where he held you in place. He had channeled in his anger into his passion that you brought out of him just as you had channeled your angst over the entire situation.

“Doll, the take-out is getting cold.” Nicky’s voice came through the door. “Don’t stay in there all night.”

You pressed your lips together and grimaced. “I’ll be right out.” You called back.

You had not meant to make him so angry but now, now you felt much better. Worry had been prickling at you. Stepping back, you eyed the gentle swell. Becoming a mother had not ever been on your personal to-do list. But the attraction between you had been stronger then anything you had ever felt. Your body and had eagerly taken his seed as you had responded to that easy smirk, touch or kisses.

You had always thought he was bad news. He still was but was on the other side of life. There was a razor’s edge to him that you were certain, would lead to your death. It still could. Damn, maybe it was pregnancy brain or the chemistry you had between the two of you, but you’d happily die on that razor edge for him.

You splashed some cool water on your face and turning you headed back out. He had placed your fork back beside your plate.

His fingers wrapped around your wrist as you walked by. His thumb easily caressing you.

“Are you better?”

His were warm, the anger was gone but the determination he had in most situations was there in the sky blue.

You nodded.

“Let me hear you say it.”

“I am better Nicky. I am sorry I doubted you, I mean us.” You quickly spoke over the you.

“Good. Now don’t fucking let those insecurities win again.”

“I won’t.”

*******

You snapped awake. Glancing, around you spotted, What to Expect When Expecting was open and sitting on the coffee table and a blanket was draped over you.

“Nick? Nicky?”

Looking around you spotted light pouring from under the door of his room. He took care of things in there, he prepared and he finished things there as well. You never went in there.

Pulling the blanket aside, you went over. You knocked softly. “Nicky?”

You heard some shuffling on the other side, you backed up.

“Hey there sleepy head.” He gave you a half smile.

You smiled, feeling as he looked you up and down. “Are you ok?”

“Yup.” You nodded. “Just woke up.”

“I’m almost done in here.”

“Ok! You said brightly. “I was thinking of taking a bath.”

His eyes lit up. “Want me to join you?”

You were warmed by the thought. “Could be nice.”

“Alright, why don’t you get it started and I will he there shortly.”

********

You sat on the rim of the tub watching the water begin to rise. Taking a the cork out of glass bottle, with a smile you happily sniffed at the rose-hip oil before pouring some into the water.

Carefully you pulled your now wrinkled dress off and with your panties; you tossed them into the hamper. Opening your vanity, grabbing a hair tie and put your hair up.

Holding onto the rim and your tummy with careful moves; sighing you immersed yourself into the water. Relief filled you. This felt so good.

You were glad, Nicky was in a better mood. You had not meant to upset him. You remembered when you had first saw him.

******

You eyed your reflection in the backroom and twirled.

“Hi girlie, look at you.” Stacy snapped her gum and came up behind her. She smiled at your reflection. “You look hot.”

You nudged her away. “I am not.”

“You are the boys out there will love you.”

You rose an eyebrow. “All the better for tips.”

“We’ll see.”

“Go get em, girl.”

You forced a smile and went over to the double doors. Taking a quick breath you went out there.

The clinking of glasses, the hum of conversation broken up by some shrill laughs filled the air.

You saw some prospects but you hesitated, continuing to move among the tables. Before you realized it, you had walked towards the back. That’s when you saw him.

A lone man, you caught sight of him before he saw you.

“Hello there handsome, is there anything I can get you?”

With a breath, you managed your best smile. Though, your nervousness made your heart skip a few beats.

Then he looked up from his phone. Your heart picked up speed, he was so handsome. The most attractive man you ever laid your eyes on.

Hair fantastically slicked back, a glint of chain laid on under his button down shirt and their was a twinkle in his dark eyes.

He slipped his phone away, his lips curled into a smirk. “Give me a twirl baby?”

Annoyance prickled you. Your smile tightened on your face. “I’m not for sale.”

“Am I trying to buy you? No. Now give me a twirl.” His voice was sharp.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” Pressing your lips together, you twirled.

“Very nice.”

He leaned toward you, his lips curled into a smirk.

“Look, I got some important guys coming in. Wanna be the girl for our table tonight, and I’ll treat you right?”

You put a hand on your hip. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

You nervously glance around.

“Go tell your boss, Adam is asking for you.” He sat back and smirked.

“Oh alright.” You muttered under your breath and fluttered off.

Your heart was thumping in your chest as you made your way back to Tommy’s office. You took a breath and knocked.

“Yeah?!“

Opening the door, you peaked around it. You smiled despite how your stomach lurched at the sight of him. He always reminded you on a toad perched on a rock waiting to snatch a fly out of the air. Not once he had raised his voice to you, but he still grossed you out.

“Yes, sugar?”

You swallowed, you came more into his office. You blinked at the the swirls of cigar smoke in the small room.

“Some guy named Adam asked if I could be the girl for his table tonight.”

“Adam, huh?” He sat back in his seat, making it creak and groan under him. “Have you met him before?”

You shook your head. “No sir.”

“He’s a pretty big deal, one of our steady clients; Lambert thinks he’s a good man.”

“Ok.” You didn’t know what else to say, you didn’t know exactly what that meant.

“Be your usual sweet self. If he asks for anything unusual tell me.”

“Unusual?”

Tommy moved forward practically bracing himself against his large desk. “Blow, girls who are not ours.” The rest of his words were garbled in his big lips.

You nodded. Stacy had told you interesting things went down there but the pay was good. This would be your introduction to it, you guessed.

“Now you be a good girl because if he complains about you, I won’t be happy.”

“Yes, sir.”

As you made your way back; you don’t know why but your heart kind of sank when you saw one of the girls practically curled up to his side, making doe eyes and playing with his chain.

He became more erect, practically separating himself from her as you drew closer. He ran his fingers through his slicked back hair.

Why should he even care, you wondered. You guessed people acted differently in these kind of establishments. You’d just roll with it.

“What did he say doll?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Now go and get me a neat whiskey.”

“Yes, sir.”

One of the corners of his mouth twitched up at your words.

******

“Room enough in there for me?” His voice broke into your memory.

You gasped and smiled. “Of course.”

You easily scooted towards the brushed nickel bathtub fixtures. Idly you remembered how growing up having a tub like this would have been something from a dream or a catalog.

A smile curled your lips as you felt his hands take a hold of you and you were soon resting against him.

His chin rested on the top of your head.

“What had you so far away?”

Rarely, did he concern himself too much about you and your day dreams. He had enough on his mind, making sure things were taken care or getting done. He also knew you were pretty self sufficient.

“Remembering, when we first met.”

“Oh.” He chuckled. “You were the prettiest piece of ass I had ever seen. I needed someway to get to know you better.”

“Is that so?” You countered. “Jenna, was practically hanging off of you when I got back from speaking with Tommy.”

“Well, I had to ignite your jealousy.”

“Oh? And what made you think that would do it?”

You could see him smirking without even a glance back at him.

“The way you were towards me before I asked you to be the girl for my table.”

“I could have thought you were just like every other asshole that came into that place.”

He chuckled. “But I wasn’t.”

You moved easily in the water. Turning and seeing him like he was then; made your heart skip. Arms on the rim of the tub, silver chain glistening against his chest hair and pearls of water that clung to him after getting into the tub and his ice like blue eyes hooded in his confidence of the memory and himself.

“You certainly weren’t.” You kissed his jaw.

*******

His phone chirped to life as he oiled his hand gun.

Found the pack. Meeting at noon tomorrow. Warehouse on Lexington and Park. He read Lambert’s message.

He put the rag and gun down, and wiped his hands on his slacks.

Good. He typed back.

Getting up, he came out of his room. Not finding you in the living room, he went to check the bedroom. You were deep into your closet.

“Planning on going somewhere?” He leaned against the door frame.

You jumped. He smiled.

“I am trying to find something to wear to the ultrasound.”

“That’s tomorrow?” He took off his glasses and wiped away a smudge he spotted.

“Yes, I told you over breakfast.”

“Oh right. Was distracted waiting for Lambert’s call.” He admitted.

You made a face and turned back to your clothes.

“When is the appointment?”

“Twelve-Thirty.” You continued shifting through the colorful fabrics.

“I’ll try and make it.”

That’s when you turned, and took a step towards him. “We will find out what we’re having.”

He stepped closer. “Are we sure we want to find out?”

He couldn’t read your expression and that annoyed him.

“We agreed that we did.”

“I will try.”

*******

He eyed his wrist watch. Ten of twelve. It was a clear day, the sun was bright and there was not a cloud to be seen. His uber was a block away from his destination.

*******

With a small pile of clothes laid at your feet, you decided finally on a cami and hoodie and some leggings. Satisfied, you zipped up the light hoodie.

The jell for the ultrasound always left you cold. Despite having a good breakfast, you felt ill. Nicky had tried to sweeten you up by ordering in your favorite breakfast. You were upset that he would not be there.

******

He walked in. He didn’t like being this exposed. The pay off was worth it, he reminded himself.

A laugh bounced off the walls.

“I knew that you’d be the first to arrive.” The voice echoed.

Turning, he saw Lambert walking over to him and he nodded.

Shrugging, he glanced down at his watch. Five of Twelve.

******

“Mrs. Barrett.” You said to the receptionist looked up at you.

“Oh! You’re early.”

You glanced at the big clock behind the woman. Twelve - Fifteen.

“I was told that’s best.”

“It is. Most don’t.”

You smiled and shrugged.

@the1redrose @blurpleuni-squid

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sandssavvy · 13 days ago

Text

A playlist for Sean Finnerty:

I Don't Wanna Play Solider No More

I saw Candela Obscura: Needle and Thread, and Brennan Lee Mullugan promptly desroyed my soul with his character, Sean Finnerty. Here's a playlist for my favorite broken boy.

On spotify

On 8tracks

Click beyond the read more to see the songs and reasons behind the selection. Spoilers behind the cut.

Warning for mentions of depression, self-hatred, & suicidal ideation.

Things We Lost in the Fire

Song by Bastille

After the war he came back to nothing.

Sorrow

Song by The National

Is it a Sean Finnerty playlist without a song about him being consumed by depression after the loss of his brothers?

Zombie

Song by The Cranberries

It's the same old theme, since 1916

In your head, in your head, they're still fightin'

With their tanks and their bombs and their bombs and their guns

In your head, in your head, they are dyin'

In his mind Sean never truly left the war.

The Chemical Worker's Song (Process Man)

Song by Great Big Sea

This song obviously paints a picture of impoverished factory workers (like Sean's father) being slowly killed by their jobs. It also reminds me of Sean's certainty that he & Marion won't survive working for Candela Obscura and that the organization doesn't care what happens to them. Not to mention all the lower-class young men who died by his side on the battlefield.

They'll time your every breath

And every day you're in this place

You're two days nearer death

Red Right Hand

Song by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

Many powerful figures manipulate and destroy the lives of the poor and destitute.

Therapy

Song by All Time Low

Ah yes, a song about depression, suicidal ideation, and covering it all up with jokes and humor. We know this boy would never get therapy after what happened to his ma.

Dust Bowl Dance

Song by Mumford & Sons

One of the few things keeping Sean going was vengeance against the men who destroyed his family. This section of the song is particularly fitting:

Well, you are my accuser, now look in my face

Your oppression reeks of your greed and disgrace

So one man has and another has not

How can you love what it is you have got

When you took it all from the weak hands of the poor?

Liars and thieves you know not what is in store

There will come a time I will look in your eye

You will pray to the God that you always denied

Then I'll go out back, and I'll get my gun

I'll say, "You haven't met me, I am the only son"

Blood on My Name

Song by The Brothers Bright

We all know Sean felt monstrous and had suicidal ideation. Beyond that, he believed he would die young in the war and in Candela Obscura. "They're going to keep sending me down those holes"

Day Three: Pain

Song by Ayreon

It's fair to say that a large portion of Sean's mind is consumed by pain, depression, and wrath.

Devil on My Shoulder

Song by Orla Gartland

Unfortunately, I couldn't find this one on spotify. To me this one fits somewhere in where Sean is considering the deal.

There you are the

devil on my shoulder

smiling as the

flames are growing colder

how can I believe in what I have?

Lose Your Soul

Song by DJ Filip and Dead Man's Bones

Sean doesn't see any value in his own soul or life anymore. He's afraid of himself, but he's determined to follow through with his plans.

Uprising

Song by Muse

Rise up and take the power back

It's time the fat cats had a heart attack

He could take the power away from at least 5 of the powerful men who ruined his family.

Who Are You, Really?

Song by Mikky Ekko

The freedom of no longer trying to keep up his mask of being alright and fight for what he wants.

Me and the Devil

Song by Soap&Skin

Sean making a deal with "another monster" that looks just like him.

The Lion and the Wolf

Song by Thrice

I think that Sean sees himself as the lion and the wolf of this song. The Lion is who he is at war or whenever the humor drops away and there is only violence. The wolf is how he sees himself the rest of the time. He could be mistaken for a friend or faithful companion but believes he is only a monstrous beast that destroys everything around him.

The lion's claws are sharpened for war

The wolf's teeth are red

And what a monstrous sight he makes

Mocking man's best friend

When both the wolf and lion crave

The same thing in the end

Elsa’s Song

Song by The Amazing Devil

Marion and the others try so hard to reach Sean, but part of him died in the war.

"The truth is, I'm not that different from Tony and Jimmy. What happened out there, I don't think I could ever come home"

Seven Devils

Song by Florence & The Machine

Sean's last plan was simple. Kill the men who destroyed his family, free his ma, and die during the shapeshifter's plan. If he refused the plan and lost the fight? His mom dies in the basement of the asylum. If he wins the fight, he still has no way of covering up the murders in the basement and getting his mom out legally without suspicion landing on her. Not to mention he was told there were many other shapeshifters (and some could seek vengeance on his ma), so the plan to bring Marion to the mother is the only one that saves Sean's ma. He has to unflinchingly follow through with the plan and not give anything away? Fine, he'll just die (hopefully before his friends can start dropping). He left his mother at Marion's home, hoping that the others would help her after Sean is dead. He throws himself into the watery underground tunnel and afterwards acts as callously as possible in the fight, hoping that he will be killed first and the rest will survive. He died thinking that the plan worked and believing Marion would be able to look after his mom.

"I'm not a gardener, and the world doesn't need me. It's better for me to go away."

"I don't want your money

I don't want your crown

See, I've come to burn your kingdom down"

"See, I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done"

Brennan Lee Mulligan, you gave me psychic damage. I'm never recovering from this character.

#sean finnerty #brennan lee mulligan #candela obscura #candela obscura circle of needle and thread #circle of needle and thread #my playlist #music #critical role

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