#tap dances away to my basement

[swiftmitsu]

i gave up doing a background .

[hxneyfarm]

got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing

“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”

Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.

It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 

It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.

It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.

But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.

But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”

“Steve talks about me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.

“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”

“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”

“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.

Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.

“Listen. We are not discussing this.”

Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”

“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”

“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”

“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”

“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”

“He just… I tell a good story.”

Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”

“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”

“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.

“He has pet names for everybody.”

“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”

“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”

“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”

“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”

“The Eddie smile.”

Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.

Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.

Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 

He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.

The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.

But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.

Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.

“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”

“Language, Wheeler.”

“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”

There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.

“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”

Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.

“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.

“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”

“We were arguing about you.”

“And the good news?”

“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”

That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”

Well. Here goes nothing.

“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”

Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 

The Eddie smile.

It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.

“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.

And then he kisses him.

because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Drabble Roulette: Helmut Zemo + Mob AU

Hey hey! This weekend (July 6 -7) I’m going to be playing drabble roulette! I’ve curated a list of characters, tropes, AUs, and kinks and I’m spinning the wheel! Hopefully I can do this once a month as a little writing exercise.

Character: Helmut Zemo

Warnings: this drabble includes illegal activity and drunkeness. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+. Please reblog and leave some feedback.

A giggle bubbles up from your throat. You don’t know why it’s so funny. Maybe it’s the absurdity. Maybe you’re just tired of being the other one. Or you’re drunk. Very drunk. 

You glance over at Shantal. She’s making eyes at the guy who brought her a lime twist cocktail. He’s into her too. And Traci grinds on the dance floor with a buff guy you know spends more time in the gym than doing actual work. And you, well, you get the cream of the crop, don’t you? 

As the man approaches, you try to ignore him. Try not to see him. Maybe he’ll get the hint. You’re really not interested. 

He doesn’t. He sits beside you on the long bench behind the table and sets the second martini in front of you. You repress a cringe. You hate to be rude but you can’t help another giggle. 

He looks older up close. You could tell before he’s beyond your age range. Do you have one of those? Not like you have a vast field for selection. Next to the young studs your friends have reeled in, his seniority is even more stark. 

“You look lonely,” he slithers. 

You put on your best smile. It’s hard. You’re mortified. 

“Um, thanks, that’s nice but...” you look away and wet your lips, laughing again. “I’m sorry I’m not looking--” 

“Mm, you could’ve fooled me the way you keep peeking over at your friend. You are rather green.” 

You wince at the insult. You’re not jealous but you do wish you could find them as east as Shantal. You shrug. 

“I appreciate the gesture but I think I might be a bit... young for you,” you suggest. 

It’s his turn to laugh and he does. Heartily. He stirs the cocktail with the toothpick, three olives skewered upon it. He raises his chin and inhales through his nose, looking around the flashing club. Why is he even there? It can’t be much fun hanging out with coeds at that age. 

He looks at you smugly, “do you have any idea who you’re laughing at?” 

His expression turns dire and your stomach drops. Something in his dark eyes strangles you. You shake your head and look at the stemmed glass. 

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” you utter. 

“We’re meeting. Now.” 

“Right,” you hesitate. This is awkward. You don’t know what he wants you to say. “I am the designated driver so--” 

“Don’t lie to me,” he sneers. “I’ve watched you keep pace with these sluts you call friends. You’re slurring right now and I can smell the vodka on your breath,” he leans in, “I’d rather taste it.” 

“Excuse me?” You sputter. 

“You’ve got a pretty mouth,” his eyes flick down to your lips, “go on, have a sip.” 

“You’re gross.” 

“I bought you a drink so don’t be so impolite,” he retorts. “I’m sorry, did you have a line up?” 

He peers around again, even more smug than before. That hurts.  

“You know, you catch more bees with honey--” 

“I already own you,” he insists, “you’re in my club, you have my liquor in your stomach, and you are sat at my table. So, show some manners and drink what I give you.” 

You shake your head. This man is confounding. Is he flirting or demeaning you? 

“I recommend you weigh this very carefully. I don’t just own this snake’s pit. The landlord you pay for their basement, I know him. He pays me his dues. And the college campus, yes, well, several professors have a taste for gambling, and I suppose you would need to deal with the banks...” 

“You’re lying--” 

“Perhaps, would you like to find out the hard way or the easy way,” he reaches over and taps the glass before you, “I do find gin does go down rather smoothly.” 

[purplecoffee13]

Dangerous Love*

Summary: You know Harry’s dangerous, but isn’t that what makes it all the more exciting?

Wc: 5.3k

Tropes: POSSESSIVENESS, mafia!harry, friends-with-benefits-to-lovers, forbidden love

Warnings: degradation, slight BDSM, daddy!kink, edging & overstimulation if you squint

A/N: Yeah… about this one. I- I’ll just be in the corner, thinking about my actions…

THIS HASN’T BEEN PROOFREAD, I’LL DO THAT LATER!!!

#####

You had sworn off Harry months ago. When you found out he had been participating in some... illegal activities, it was over.

Your family was powerful, important, and most of all very clean. Harry Styles had been trying to make it in the real estate business as well, but there had been talk going around, talk of odd situations and fishy circumstances.

Your family had told you to not interact with him or any of his family on a voluntary basis, and to not hold the conversation on too long if confronted with his family anyway.

Now, you were never one to listen to your family. You had always advocated against prejudice and you firmly believed that one should never judge a book by its cover. And out of all people, you really didn't expect Harry to be the person to prove her wrong.

In the months that you had gotten to know each other at events, it had become clear that you were attracted to each other, so you two set up a relationship. A friends with benefits relationship, that was. Knowing that anything else would be too complicated, this was the best option.

It was thrilling, doing something that was wrong, while feeling so right.

But when one day you found a huge stash of coke in Harry's basement, you retreated your entire relationship with him. You couldn't have the demolition of the family weighing on your shoulders, purely out of sexual needs.

You had held up this attitude on for quite a while. It had been three months. Sure, you hadn't shared the bed with anyone because you were secretly afraid that no else would ever live up to Harry, but that was besides the point.

It was besides the point that he knew every one of your kinks and the perfect way to play into them. And it certainly didn't keep you staring at him during the entirety of this charity gala that was held at his mansion tonight.

Nope, didn't bother your at all

Despite what you had seen, Harry had built legitimacy in the last months and people had started to slowly learn to trust him. Your parents were still skeptic about him (rightfully so), but the rest of the community had already warmed up to the Styles family.

It hadn't been easy to keep your eyes off Harry, especially with him dressed in that all black suit of his. It was certainly a sight to see and you had almost spilled champagne on yourself the first time you got lost in his eyes. You didn't miss the way his mouth quirked up. He knew.

The entire evening went slow, and you tried not to look to disinterested when your date, a guy that your parents had tried to match you with, asked you to dance. You politely accepted and did your best not to yawn as he talked about some 'impressive' business deal he made.

Then, suddenly, someone tapped on his shoulder and asked to borrow you for a dance. Naturally, your date accepted the request from none other than Harry, and soon you found yourself dancing with him.

You'd tried your best to keep your distance, but it was really hard, mainly because he had a really tight grip on your waist. His face was leaning against the side of yours, and you heard him inhaling your perfume. You didn't dare close your eyes, you were afraid someone would see how much you were secretly enjoying this moment.

When the dance came to an end, Harry whispered something to you.

"Meet me in my bedroom in ten minutes."

Without another word, he kissed your hand and let you go, walking away to entertain some guests. You returned to your family, who asked if everything was alright and you confirmed that it was.

After five minutes of eagerly waiting, you excused yourself from your family, claiming to visit the ladies room and then step outside for some fresh air.

Instead, you took a different route and quietly headed upstairs until you had reached the bedroom. You sat down on the king sized bed and waited in agony, but soon enough the door clicked open.

For a second you were afraid it was someone else, but those worries flew out the window the moment you saw Harry's satisfied grin at the sight of you sitting on his bed.

"I knew you'd come." He stalked towards me. "You'll always come back to me."

You just looked up at him with big eyes, waiting for him to make the next move. You still weren’t sure what you were doing here, all you knew is that you needed to see him again.

"Did you come here with a date?" He asked in a soft tone, caressing your cheek as he leaned down to be on eye to eye level with you.

You didn't say anything, simply leaning your head into his hand and closing you eyes. There was no one to see you now, so it was safe to enjoy his touch.

"Answer me."

"Yes... I did."

"And yet, you're here. Sitting in front of me, knowing what I'm going to do, now that I have you to myself." He kept his tone sweet, but the contradiction of his dominant words made your heat throb.

"Harry–"

You were cut off by his hand flying to your neck, slightly choking you before you could finish your sentence.

"I don't remember that we agreed on that name, now did we?"

Dramatic ass.

"Sir... please. I've missed you, I've felt so empty without you." You immediately began to plead, automatically playing into his sexual preferences. Harry liked to be in control and you liked to give it to him. There was no one who could do it like he could.

"Poor little thing, have you been so deprived?" He rhetorically asked, to which you immediately started to nod. He gave a little squeeze with his hand, tightening his grip around your neck before resuming to the looser grip it had before. There was no stopping the whines that fell from your lips, they just happened.

"Yeah, you fucking did that to yourself, didn't you? When you walked away from me." Harry's tone had lowered and he sounded very frustrated, he sounded angry.

"Didn't you?"

"I did, sir." You complied, your submissive side taking over completely. It was very easy for you to give into him, especially because you knew what you'd get in return.

"So?" He pushed further, wanting you to apologize to him for making the both of you suffer for so long.

"'M sorry, sir." Your doe eyes met his blown pupils, and you felt yourself getting wetter with every passing second just from the feeling of his rings against your neck. Harry chuckled at your apology, and you could have expected the words that came out of his mouth next.

"I don't think you’re sorry, darling." He smirked at you, letting go of his hold on you and walking to the chair in the corner of the bedroom. He sat himself down, spreading his legs wide open and rubbing over his thighs.

"I am!" You turned your head towards him, annoyed with the fact that he was discrediting your words.

"Then take off your dress, get on your knees and show me you're fucking sorry."

You couldn't have possibly been quicker to take off your clothes. Harry leaned back in his chair with lit up eyes as you sank to the ground and got on hands and knees. There was no missing the bulge that grew more painful with every inch that you came closer.

You loved these kinds of moments, those were you knew you affected him just as much as he did you.

He simply waited as you un-did his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Only when you pulled his pants down a little bit did he shuffle along to get in a comfortable position. His cock sprung out of his underwear, and from the looks of it he was painfully hard.

You had missed his cock. You had missed the way it felt in your hands, in your mouth, in your pussy. The ragged sigh that fell from your lips was one of desperation. You couldn't wait to have him inside of you again, but you knew you had to work for it.

With a desperate expression on your face, you darted your eyes up to Harry, waiting to see if he had any instructions you should follow. You practically melted at the way when sat there, leaned back with his head resting on his palm.

"Go ahead." He encouraged, and that was enough for you to spit on your hand and start stroking his length. Harry's jaw clenched in an instant and his body shifted just a tiny bit at your touch, but you noticed it nonetheless.

A breath of relief came all the way back from his throat, and it induced every bit of your confidence to see him crumble at your touch. You kept stroking him for a bit before you decided that enough was enough, you needed him in your mouth.

Reaching closer, you softly planted your lips  against his throbbing erection, and heard him gasp at the feeling of it. You spent the first few moments focusing on his sensitive tip and massaging his balls before pulling away from his hard shaft completely.

He had only opened his eyes halfway when you licked a stripe all the way from the base of his cock to the tip, and then took him in your mouth. His sudden body spasm caused his cock to dig deeper into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. You moaned loudly, knowing you'd be completely drenched through your panties if he'd repeat his actions.

Harry hadn't missed your extremely loud and arousing reaction to him accidentally shoving his dick further up your throat. He had always just let you suck his dick. Out of the many things you'd tried together, he had never fucked your face before.

He was satisfied to hear you yell against his cock when he did it again.

"Do you like choking on my cock, sweetheart?" He questioned, bucking his hips when you squeezed his balls a bit. In retaliation, he gathered your hair together and wrapped it around his head.

"Let's see how well you can get me off, huh?" He grinned before pushing your head down on his cock. You focused on breathing through your nose as he used you as if he was using his own hands, and you loved it.

The noises that came out of your mouth were desperate and almost embarrassing. You looked up at Harry, who had his head thrown back as he went crazy with working himself up to an orgasm.

"You're such a fucking desperate cock slut. J-Just for me..." He talked to you, but mainly to get closer to his orgasm. You kept on touching his balls and let him use you to work himself to his high.

"Ah, I'm gonna cum– Fuck!" In the middle of his sentence, Harry's tight grip on your hair loosened and you felt the first spurts of his cum shoot through your throat. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling proud of yourself for making him come so fast.

He pulled your head away from his cock and stroke his hand over your hair until it looked slightly less messy.

Without so much as a word, he put on his pants again and got out of his seat. He grabbed your wrist and guided you to his bed, where he ordered you to sit with your back leaned against the bed frame.

You patiently waited as he rummaged through his drawer and turned around with two ties in his hand. You tried to hide the grin that formed on your face, you knew this meant you were going to have great sex.

Whenever Harry did anything that involved bondage, it meant that you were going to have a great orgasm. You both got so turned on from it, and you had no idea why.

You obeyed him sweetly when he ordered you to hold your hands up, and looked at him with fond eyes as he tied your to his bed and blindfolded you. After the knot was secured, you heard his footsteps walking towards what you assumed to be the end of the bed.

"You look so pathetic, totally at my mercy. Be a good girl and stay still for me until I'm back." He bragged, drenching your core with his dirty words, until you realized what he was saying.

"Until you're back–" You couldn't even finish your sentence before the door slammed to interrupt it.

You couldn't believe it. Was he going to make you wait here? Tied up and blindfolded? What a fucking dick.

The wait was excruciating, especially considering your lack of knowledge about when he'd be back. It felt like hours, even though you knew it wasn't, maybe one hour. Nonetheless you suffered as you waited until Harry was choosing to come back to make you feel good.

You did realize how wrong it was to be so aroused by the fact that he used you like a rag doll, but you were also aware that your kinks didn't define anything about you in your day to day life. It was a sexual preference and it didn't say anything about you as a person.

The relief was insane when you heard the bedroom door open and a pair of footsteps graced the wooden floors.

"I got your phone, love." You heard Harry's footsteps stalk towards you. "Texted your mother and said you went home early because you were feeling sick."

"Thank you, sir."

At this point, you'd do and say anything for an orgasm, including thanking him for everything he did.

"Such good manners, darlin'. I think you should put those to use and inform your little date that you're not interested anymore, or ever were in the first place."

You hummed in agreement. You had never liked Dylan, and this was a good excuse to get him out of the way. Harry took your blindfold off, and though the soft light was harsh on your eyes, you were glad you could finally see him.

What you hadn't expected, though, was for Harry to actually call Dylan with your phone and lay the device next to you. You instantly started freaking out.

"Right now?!" You exclaimed, stressed and hoping Dylan wouldn't pick up.

"Yes." Harry answered like it was the most logical thing in the world.

"But–"

"Tell him or I won't let you cum." He barked, and just as he finished his sentence, Dylan picked up, and Harry went down.

His mouth touched your heat the second you heard a 'hello' through your phone's speaker.

"Dylan, hi!" You said breathily.

"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere. Where are you?" He asked. The worry in his voice made Harry roll his eyes. He might have thought you couldn't see it, but during sex you would never keep your eyes off of Harry for even one second, and that included today.

"Oh.. I-I went home early. 'M not feeling so good!" You shrieked when Harry suddenly started to kitten lick your clit. The fucker really wanted you to slip up.

"Are you okay?"

"No! Yes! I mean, I almost tripped but I'm fine." You quickly made up an excuse. You couldn't tell if your cheeks were red from extreme embarrassment or plain arousal. Probably both.

"Okay. D'you want me to come over?"

As soon as those words left Dylan's mouth, Harry pulled away and spanked your clit, making your hips buck and let out a yelp.

"Hello?"

"N-no! I wanted to talk to you about that..." you said, and the whiny tone in your voice sounded like you were getting emotional over it, when in reality you were just frustrated with Harry teasing you so much. "I don't think we should date anymore."

"What? Why not? Did I do something?"

"I just–" I looked down at Harry, who raised his brows at me, which meant 'go on, tell him'.

"I'm... with somebody else."

"Wait what?" The aggression in Dylan's voice made Harry stop in his tracks. He got off the bed and sat next to you before slipping in two fingers without warning. You let out a gasp, quite literally crumbling at his touch, but he was focused on the phone call, a deep crease between his brows as he listened to Dylan.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me that three dates ago?"

Harry's eyes darted towards you, waiting for your answer. It seemed like he was genuinely curious about what you had to say.

"It's complicated, okay? I just– I can't date you anymore, I belong to someone else now."

You couldn't bring yourself to keep your eyes open as you answered Dylan. It was true, you did belong to Harry. You could pretend all you want but at the end of the day he was right, you'd always come back to him. Dylan could listen for all you cared, you just needed Harry inside of you.

"I don't think it's complicated, I just think you're a slu—”

Suddenly, the phone call stopped.

Your eyes shot open, and you were met with the sight of Harry throwing your phone on the chair next to the bed.

With a bit of tension in your stomach from the words you'd uttered just before, you watched as Harry pulled his fingers out of you and made his way back to his former position, with his head between your legs.

He didn't say anything, he just put his tongue on your clit and started flicking mercilessly while simultaneously shoving three fingers inside of you. You screamed out at the sudden motion, giving your wrists a hard tug against the knotted tie around them.

Your back arched as you felt your high nearing. You didn't think you would have the ability to wait until you got verbal permission from Harry to come, but the way he was attacking your clit seemed like permission enough.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... I'm gonna cum, 'm gonna– oh my god! Please!" You rambled on and on, feeling the need to beg for a release anyway. It was like your body didn't allow you to do anything unless he said so.

"Please, please... daddy, please!" The desperate cries made him moan out, the vibrations on your clit sending shocks through your body. He ripped his mouth away from you and replaced it with his finger which rubbed dizzily fast circles on your clit.

"C'mon, soak my fingers baby."

His taunting voice was the last thing you heard before a high pitched ringing took over, and you could've sworn you blacked out for a second. The pulsating waves of pleasure took over your entire body from head to toe, and soon enough you realized what was happening.

You had just squirted all over the bed, and Harry.

Your entire body felt exhausted from this orgasm alone, and you found yourself wondering how the hell you were going to survive tonight because you knew it wouldn't be the last one.

"Fucking hell." Harry breathed a soft chuckle of pride, taking off his now wet dress shirt. "I've never been able to get you to do that before."

"I've never been able to do that before, ever." I laughed along, flabbergasted at how good that felt. Harry just smiled, a real smile, before he crawled over you and undid the knot that tied you to the bed. He threw the tie to the side and leaned forwards to cup your face before kissing you. You instantly wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him against you even more. As your tongues circled around each other, Harry slowly switched positions until he was laying besides you .

The kiss lasted a while, and it held a newfound passion to it that you hadn't experienced in your previous times kissing Harry. When he pulled away, he kept himself quiet, scanning every feature in your face while his thumb stroked your cheek.

"Did you mean that?" He finally spoke up.

"What?" You slightly tilted your head, confused with his soft tone all of a sudden. You weren't used to this version of him.

"That you're mine."

"Harry, I—"

"Because I want you to be. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours, if you'll have me." He confessed, and you could've sworn you felt yourself melt into the bed.

Your parents were going to disown you. You were going to get kicked out of the house and have nothing left but the words of an unpredictable man.

There had never been a clearer, better answer for this, and yet you found yourself still wanting to say the exact opposite.

"My parents hate you, Harry. And for the right reasons. Your life... it's dangerous. I shouldn't be getting sucked into that." You began talking, and saw the way he lost hope for a positive answer.

Suddenly, you rolled over so that the both of you were flipped, and you were sitting on his lap. He laid there, eyes a bit wide at you suddenly taking charge. He was obviously curious to see where it was going, otherwise he wouldn't have let you.

"I know all of this..." You leaned forwards stroking your hands through his hair. "And I still can't keep my hands off of you."

With those words you pulled at his roots, making Harry wince under you. His jaw was slacked, and he felt confused with how arousing this was. Harry had never been in any other position than the dominant one, nothing else had ever turned him on before, except for this, for you.

"I know I shouldn't, but I still can't stop myself from craving your big, sweet cock." You continued, taking off your bra and smirking at the way his tattooed chest rose up and down quickly sight of your bare breasts. You lifted yourself up a bit, getting your pussy in line with the tip of his cock.

"And I can't help but–" you cut yourself off with a loud moan as you sank on his hard and long shaft. Slowly but surely, you began to grind back and forth, getting comfortable with his length again as it had been a while.

"Oh! Mmm, fuck!" You cried out.

"Look at you—" Harry leaned on his elbows, looking up at you with fond eyes. "fucking yourself with my cock. Does that feel good, baby?"

"Mm.. ah– it feels so good sir." You were panting now, overwhelmed with how good it felt to have him inside of you again. You started bouncing yourself on his dick to get some tempo into it.

"Such pretty tits." He mumbled, fondling them and pinching your nipples. "All mine, baby?"

He couldn't help but ask, you didn't finish your little speech after all because you were too desperate for his cock.

"Tell me." He encouraged, spanking your ass with his right hand, which made you sink down on his cock very swiftly. "Are you mine, now?"

You moaned and cried and whined, but still managed to conjure a slight smirk on your face as you looked at him.

"Make me yours, daddy."

That was enough for Harry, and before you knew it, you were pulled off his cock and thrown on the bed, laying on your stomach.

In an instant, you felt your lips being lifted up and his cock being sunk into you again. Harry leaned forward to grab your worst and hold them on your back, before nearly pulling out and then ramming himself into you at an ungodly pace. It caused a high pitched scream to leave your mouth, something which did not happen often during sex for you.

"That's right, take it." he kept his quick pace steady as you gasped from under him. "Whose fucking pussy is this, hmm? I wanna hear you say it."

Your sounds were slightly muffled by the pillow and therefore incomprehensible, so he leaned over and grabbed your neck, choking you as he pulled your head up.

"C'mon, who owns you?"

"You do! Fuck! You own me, daddy, I'm yo– oh! 'M yours!" Your answer came out like it was word vomit. You couldn't stop saying everything he wanted to hear, and he loved it. He got off on your submission to him, on the way you let him be in control. He'd never admit it, but the main reason he took such a liking to it is because it showed that you trusted him despite what you knew about him.

He kept pounding into you, and smirking when he felt your core clenching against his cock already.

"You gonna cum already?"

"Mm.. yesss!"

"Pathetic little cock slut... you just love getting used, don't you?"

When you didn't answer, he spanked you, hard.

"I do! I do, sir!" You quickly replied, your ears ringing from the stinging pain on your bum.

"You know you're nothing more than a hole for me to use at any time I want. My filthy little whore. All mine, forever." It was now Harry's turn to start rambling, and he almost lost himself, but quickly regained traction. He wasn't done with you, and he couldn't permit himself to cum yet.

You did cum, though. The moment the word 'forever' left his mouth, you exploded, in every way possible. You entire body was spasming and Harry slowed himself down as you creamed his cock. The sounds of your intercourse become more adamant now that there was more... liquid involved, and hearing Harry's cock in your pussy was the definition of arousal for you.

Harry didn't exactly let you ride out your high, instead pushing you fully down on the bed and flipping your body so you were laying on your sides. He held his hands firmly on your hips as he went to lay down behind you.

You were quite surprised with the position, it was something you two had never done before. Harry always deemed positions like that to be too intimate, so it felt out of the ordinary for him to have you like this, but now that you were being really intimate it also felt way better.

The groan leaving Harry's throat when he pushed himself inside you again confirmed that he was thinking the same thing. Your jaw was slacked, euphoria shooting through your body at the feeling of the new angle and a certain spot he managed to hit very easily.

"O-oh my..." The half-sentence escaped your lips before you could even think about what you were saying.

"Did I hit your sweet spot, baby? Is that right?" Harry taunted. His body was entirely pressed up against yours, and you could hear him panting against your neck.

"Yeah— Fuck!"

Your response was interrupted by Harry, who decided that it was the perfect timing for him to get in an extra hard thrust. Solely that action had almost made you come, and while you felt it slowing down quickly afterwards, it didn't take long to rise again when he started kissing your neck.

You turned your head around with the energy you had left, and pleaded for him to kiss you, to which he happily obliged. The taste of him against your lips, the feeling of him inside of you and the sound of his skin slapping against yours proved too much for you to bare, but you desperately wanted to try and come undone at the same time. And so, you pulled away from Harry's soft lips to whisper some dirty words right back to him.

"Harry, baby..." you said in a whiny voice, causing him to moan. You knew he wouldn't approve of you just calling him Harry between the sheets, you were taking a risk with this, but luckily he didn't mind.

In fact, he was going mad. Those words sounded so good coming from your mouth, especially now he knew that they were directed to him.

"Wh-what is it, darling?" He tried to keep his composure, almost exploding at the mere sight of you looking so fucked out.

"I want you to cum, daddy... with me. Please? I've been so good." You requested, putting up your best puppy eyes. Harry winced at your words, knowing there was no holding him back now.

"I'll fill you up, baby. Get yourself there again, then." He managed to say, rocking into you more slowly, but with more impact. It was easier to keep up at least some rhythm this way.

You guided your hand to your sensitive clit and started rubbing it ferociously. You're were aware of the fact that Harry wasn't going to be able to hold it in for much longer. With how aroused you were, you didn't think it to be much of a problem. Harry's right hand had traveled to your tits in the mean time, massaging them harshly while he resumed rocking into you. And just like clockwork, you were getting dangerously close to your orgasm again.

"I'm gonna cum, daddy! Ahh!!" You screamed out shamelessly, unable to stop yourself from rubbing your clit. It was as if your fingers were glued to your vagina, you couldn't deny yourself from this orgasm. The way your pussy was pulsating was also noted by Harry, who was growling like an animal. He became more and more aggressive with how hard he was fucking into you, the entire bed shaking from the impact.

"Jesus fuck— I'm coming, I'm— argh!" the string of incoherent words left his mouth as your body bounced along to his slamming thrusts. Soon enough, you heard some exhausted moans coming from Harry as he fucked himself through his orgasm. The beautiful sounds from your now-boyfriend were the final thing that brought you to your third climax of the night.

You screamed out in ecstasy, as the pulsating waved of pleasure took you away for a second. It felt like all your sense had shut off for those moments, and that there was nothing else but immense pleasure.

Harry came inside you, filling your walls with his cum. It felt too good to be true, especially combined with the guttural grunts coming from the back of his throat as he buried his head into your neck. When you noticed the grip on your hips had become less firm, you knew that he was slowly coming down from his orgasm. You both were both still panting, and kept silent as Harry carefully pulled himself out of you.

The empty feeling you had was made up for by a ton of kisses to your neck and your cheek, which made you chuckle a bit.

"Are you okay, baby?" Harry asked. No matter how many times you guys shared the bed, you would never not get butterflies from his attentiveness after the sex. He'd do everything you asked. Hell, he'd run around town looking for everything you need if he had to.

"Never been better." You turned your head to look at him; you wanted him to know that it wasn't some sarcastic comment. In fact, you were ecstatic with the fact that whatever was going on between the two of you was now settled.

"Can't believe you're mine now." He sighed, his face painted with a smile so big that you could see his dimples from miles away. He planted a kiss to your swollen lips and ran his hands through your messy hair.

"Yeah, you're stuck with me forever." You teased, your hand now also finding his brown locks.

"Hmm, best life sentence I could ask for."

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Video Games

Bucky Barnes x Married!Reader x Steve Rogers

Masterlist Part 1/2

Summary: Running an advice blog often led you to solving others problems for them. So who do you turn to when your husband’s best friend is there every time you close your eyes?

Word Count: 2,026

Warnings: Cheating, Infidelity, Be prepared to wear the scarlet letter. Possessive husband!steve, throwing moral code right out the window.

“On Next Week’s Reader Submission….

“If you don’t let me get past you bitch, I’ll make you move.” I hear my fiancées friend say over game voicechat. I don’t know why but it stopped my brain in its tracks. Why did it instantly turn me on? Why did my brain wonder how exactly he would do that. My mind corrected itself because I know he was talking about a character in the game. But I instantly Imagined what if it was me, standing in his way? And he offered the same threat.

Pictures of him standing over me, looking down angrily while I stand there unmoving. I cleared them from my brain, stopping them in their tracks. My fiancé sits beside me, how sinful and disgusting of me to momentarily fantasize about his friend.

If only it wasn’t momentarily, it’s much worse. I’ve always sat and listened in on their banter. Most of the time it was amusing, their rage making me laugh because I can’t understand how a game could make them so upset. But sometimes that same rage was channeled through explicit language. I couldn’t count the amount of fucks, bitches, pussies, and obvious euphemisms; you’re not going nowhere, get on your knees for me, and the ones that I’m not proud of being, fucking stupid bitch, little pussy doesn’t know how to fight.

His words are meant for a 40 year old man playing video games in his basement, not me. But I fantasized about what if they were, always cutting my imagination short. It’s been an ongoing thing. I have to tell someone, and I thought ‘who else than my favorite advice blog?’. We know you keep things one hundred, that’s why we all come to you with our most pressing issues. What should I do Y/N? Do I keep pushing the fantasies away or let my brain have fun? Should I let my mind wander so my body never does? I don’t want to cheat on my husband but I cannot deny the way some of these words roll off his lips, it does things to me.

Love, A Long Time Reader x”

You finish typing the newsletter, sending it out, biting your nails waiting for the comments to roll in. Your readers aren’t very gentle, they like to call you harsh, but their words kept you from sharing a lot about yourself. Deciding to craft yourself into the persona they want. You wonder how they would respond to this, would they encourage it like feral women in heat or world they prude up and shame the submission for being dishonorable?

You tapped your nails on your desk waiting, after ten minutes of staring at your screen you finally decide to refresh, and like magic, 127 comments are ready for viewing. Your eyes dance across the screen eager to see the response.

“Sounds like she needs her husband to step it up in the bedroom.”

“She’s obviously not in love with her fiancé if she fantasizes about another man.”

“I think she should let her mind be free! Go for it girl! As long as you don’t act on your thoughts, you aren’t doing anything wrong.” You smile at the supportive comment.

“I sure hope Y/N tells this girl the honest truth, she’s cheating on her boo, don’t let her think this is acceptable behavior.” You sigh at the truth of that comment.

“Really wouldn’t consider it cheating, the reader is overreacting.” You hum at that one, raising your eyebrows.

Their comments gave you much to think about for your response the the submission. You close your laptop, feeling accomplished, posting that newsletter was like a heavy weight off your shoulders, you’re glad it’s done. You stand and stretch, your office was already dark and you turn off your rain machine as you exit, closing the door behind you. You shuffle down the stairs, the walls were echoing with the sound of men cheering. You walk into your living room, to be surprised by Bucky sitting on your couch beside Steve.

“Hey honey, finish your paper?” Steve throws the words over his shoulder, instantly focusing on the screen again. You didn’t even have time to answer before you were cut off by Bucky. “Dude I literally get no help, I’m on point and the whole team is fucking off.” The smashing of buttons fills the silence after.

“Huh?” Steve says, acting as if Bucky didn’t just shatter your ear drums. You smile at him, “Yes baby, hit send and closed my laptop, I was too tired to read any comments.” You laugh it off. You always read the comments, he knows that, so you had to come up with an excuse tonight. If you didn’t, he’d ask what they said, and that would mean you have to tell him what the articles about, which would be even more embarrassing to do infront of Bucky.

He nods, letting you off easy because his mind is preoccupied by the combat he’s partaking in with his friend. The game ends and Bucky stands up throwing the controller onto the cushion. “I’m done playing, the little bitch is cheating, fucking dumbass.”. He turns around and seems shocked by your presence behind the couch. He must have not heard you talking to Steve, over his focus or own voice. “Sorry.” He says when you stand there staring at him. It wasn’t because what he said actually shocked you. It’s because the words were perfect for the situation.

“You’re fine.” You say, not being able to look him in the eye for long. Too afraid that he might be able to read your mind. Leaning over the back of the couch, you grab Steve’s face and kiss him deeply. “Goodnight baby, don’t stay up too late.” You keep your grip on him, holding his stare till he agrees. “Where’s my kiss?” You hear from beside you. You jolt up pressing your brows together. “In your dreams pal.” Steve cuts in.

You fake laugh, looking up at Bucky. His smile told you he was joking, but you wish he wasn’t. You leave before another word is said. Walking but up the stairs to your shared bedroom with Steve. “Okay a couple more and then I’ll leave.” You hear Bucky offer as you make it to the top step. “Fine, but I have to make a pizza, my stomach is rumbling.” Steve says as you close your bedroom door.

You strip yourself of today’s outfit, jeans and a white fitted button down, tying your silk robe around yourself. Just as you’ve slid yourself into bed the door opens, it must be Steve coming to properly say goodnight to you. “You’ve come for more kisses?” You say when you feel him slide under the covers with you. You could feel his cold metal arm wrap around you and your eyes widen. “I’ve come to get my goodnight kiss.” He says, pressing himself into your back.

You press your eyes closed, and when you open them he’s gone, there’s no trace of him in the bed. You sit up quickly, you could’ve swore he was right there. You must have imagined it, but it felt so real. Looking around the room you take a deep breath, the door was still closed, and you could hear two voices shouting in the room beneath you.

With a sigh you lay back down, closing your eyes. You force the thoughts from your mind, you’re good at that. After about an hour you hear a door open and it rustles you from your sleep, this time you were fully in a sleep filled stupeur. Steve should’ve come up to bed by now, he probably fell asleep on the couch like he always does.

You shuffle downstairs, it was already dark in the house, at least he turned off the lights before passing out. You laugh at how silly your husband could be. Just as you expected you see a long lump on the couch, covered by the blanket you crotchet’d last Christmas. You walk over to him, laying on top of the blanket and whispering gently to wake him up. “Stevie, baby, come to bed and cuddle me.” You reach up to pull the blanket off his head but he does it before you can.

You let a gasp escape your lips when your eyes connect with blue ones; but they’re not your husband’s. You freeze in your spot, holding your breath, too embarrassed to say anything. Bucky stays silent too, but you feel his warm flesh hand wrap around your hip, and your eyebrows shoot up. “We could cuddle right here, doll.”.

You move to stand up, but he uses his metal hand to wrap around you, pulling you back down ontop of him, even closer than before, you could feel the different contours of his body, pressing into you. “I thought you were Steve, i’m sorry.” You say, not breaking eye contact with him. He huffs out a laugh and you can smell his cologne, it burned your nostrils in a good way.

“I’m not.” He says, scooting down slightly so your face is positioned more above him. You lift your hands, pressing them down on his chest. “Steve could see at any moment.” You whisper, finally realizing how bad this looks. “Isn’t that the best part?” He says, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. You feel jolts of electricity run from your lips down to your core. He’s right, the fear of getting caught turns this from embarrassing to the hottest thing you’ve ever done. You move your lips with his, testing him out. When he feels your participation he lets his flesh hand slide from your hip to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

You don’t know who you are in this moment, you’re just doing what feels right. Bucky nudges his tongue into your mouth and when you give him access you hear the shower turn on upstairs. Steve must have went to the bathroom before coming to bed. You break the kiss. “I really should go.” You pull yourself away from him, against your whole body’s will. He sits up with you, not willing to let you leave just yet.

“Wait, we have a couple minutes at least. Just stay.” He says, taking deep a breath. You stare into his eyes, trying to read his seriousness, he looks completely fucked out, lips red and swollen, sweat covering his forehead and his cheeks a deep shade of pink. “How long have you felt this way?” I ask quietly, shifting on his lap.

He shrugs his shoulders, not being able to put a date and time on it. “Let’s just say, I’ve always wanted what Steve had.” He says into your ear, nudging your hair off your neck with his nose. He places a wet kiss to your pulse point, letting his hands roam your body, you couldn’t push him away if you tried.

When you hear the water cease upstairs you finally stand up from his lap. Taking a large step towards the stairs. You hear his whisper yell from across the living room, “This isn’t over, tease.”. You tiptoe back up to your room, closing the door behind you without a click from the knob. Just when you’re about to slide back into bed you realize Steve will smell Bucky on you. You hear the bathroom door open and you quickly rip your silk robe off, kicking it under the bed and you practically jump into bed, closing your eyes and trying to get your heart to stop racing.

Steve steps into the room, and you can hear his heavy feet step towards the bed, throwing back the covers and sliding in beside you. “My baby.” He says even though he thinks you’re asleep. He reaches out and pulls you close to him, humming into your hair. You pretend to sleep, while he gets comfortable in the bed. He takes seemingly one last breath that has you holding yours.

“Why do you smell like Bucky?” You feel him go ridged against you, “Quit pretending to sleep.”.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Taste of You"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 3061

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, kidnapping, cannibalism, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, ignoring of sexual boundaries, dub-con bordering on non-con, (mostly humorous) gore, (mostly humorous) body horror

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen" ... or something like that

12. Tenderize

Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter. Story Masterlist

Steve:

Bucky spends the afternoon doing what he calls "meat prep." Steve tries not to look, he really does, but the House Hunters show he puts on the television doesn’t really hold a candle to the morbidly fascinating process that is Bucky, "prepping" Melissa’s leg.

Bucky sends it up in the dumbwaiter after taking Erica her lunch. He washes his hands meticulously at the sink and dries them, picks the leg up and plops it down onto the counter with a flourish. It’s the lower leg. Left or right, Steve doesn’t take note, he just sees the painted toenails, the tattoo on the ankle that he can’t quite make out. He sits on the couch and peers over the back of it, watching Bucky work.

Bucky moves with a sort of glee, almost like a dance, as if he can hear music that Steve can’t. He looks very in his element, and very handsome and capable as he works. Steve would probably spend more time admiring that, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s also watching the man slicing pieces off of a woman’s calf.

“I usually take the non-dominant forearm, first,” Bucky tells him as he’s working. “This was Melissa’s … third cut? Anyway, it’s all I’ve got left of her now. I defrosted it a couple days ago. There’s this Italian guy who always orders shank, specifically.”

Jesus fuck, Steve thinks. "Shank." He actually calls it that.

“I send it with everything he needs for my grandma’s osso buco,” Bucky declares. “Herbs, wine, specifically-curated olive oil. All that and like, some hair or some panties or something. Because, you know: perverts.” He rolls his eyes and Steve has to suppress a horrible urge to laugh. Bucky looks up and catches sight of his twitching mouth, and he smiles back. “Yeah, I know. Good ol’ Gammy made hers with beef. But trust me,” he points his knife at Steve. “This way is so much better.”

Steve chews his lip. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“You-don’t-have-to,” Bucky sing-songs from the kitchen, in his element, happy. “You’re welcome to try any cut you want, anytime.” He produces a meat tenderizer and starts pounding away at the slices of meat he’s produced.

Steve winces as the hammer comes down hard, and then lighter in a series of almost loving taps. Christ. “I’ll pass for now,” he murmurs, unsure if Bucky’s heard him or not. He continues to watch the macabre display for a bit, but goes back to the television once Bucky is vacuum packing the meat with the herbs and spices.

He's very surprised (and honestly a bit grossed out with himself) that he doesn’t get more upset from watching the actual process. He doesn’t even get nauseous. Oh, it’s weird for sure. Downright shocking when he very first sees the leg lifted out of the dumbwaiter and plopped onto the countertop, the pedicured foot still attached, Bucky slicing away and hacking through bone. But Steve doesn’t retch and get sick like he thought he would. His stomach doesn’t once roil or threaten to turn. It’s like he’s already been desensitized to it, just from the sheer amount of stuff he’s imagined, from what Bucky’s told him and shown him so far, eating kidneys and ‘other-bacon’ right in front of him.

He thinks of Clint and watching Midsommar with him, asking him how he could stomach all the gore.

“It’s not real. Just movie magic, dude.”

His own lack of a physical reaction to this actual gore is what disturbs Steve the most, so he forces himself to sit back on the couch facing the tv, and actually pay attention to the show. The young married couple is searching for a house in Toronto. They need to upsize because they’re having another baby. Steve watches the show. He hopes they pick the middle house. They wind up picking the last one.

Absently, Steve wonders what osso buco is.

Bucky:

“What’s osso buco?” Steve asks.

Bucky’s just finished with his meat prep and woken Steve up from his nap on the couch. He’d been so sweet lying there, looking so peaceful. Bucky hadn’t wanted to wake him, but it's getting late, and he’s already started chilling the wines for dinner.

He smiles at Steve and sits at the opposite end of the couch from him, tangling their feet together in the middle. He describes what osso buco is. “I was surprised you watched,” he tells him gently, honestly. He rubs his socked foot against Steve’s bare one. “What’d you think?”

Steve is quiet for a long time. When he finally answers, he simply says, “You were right. We do look a lot like beef.”

Bucky busts out in a laugh and leans forward to slap him on the thigh. “Told ya!” He gets up to go and finish the final elements of their dinner. “You ready for date night, my dear?”

Steve watches him from over the back of the couch again. “Mmhm. What’re we doing?”

Bucky beams at him. He’s been looking forward to this all day. “First, we have our appetizer: La Pissaladiere.” He’s begun speaking in a very fake French accent, and Steve scoffs.

"That's terrible."

"Yeah it was kinda terrible, huh?”

Steve laughs, and then Bucky laughs with him, and for a second it feels just like one of those genuine, laughing stupidly together moments that they used to have. And it makes Bucky’s heart squeeze painfully as the brief moment fizzles out. He can see it in Steve’s face too, how it hurts.

Bucky looks down, clearing his throat. “Um, yeah. And then we’ve got this salad, pretty simple. And the main, which is …” he does a drumroll on the countertop. “Osso Buco!” He does that one in an equally terrible Italian accent, but Steve is not amused.

"What?! No! No fucking way!" he cries, tiny and furious and kneeling up higher on the couch cushions. Bucky marvels at him and has such a strong urge to tackle him into submission and sex right then and there, that he has to look away. “Bucky,” Steve growls. “You promised you wouldn’t make me—”

“Calm down, babe,” Bucky hurries, not wanting Steve’s temper to ruin their date night. “It’s the two version meal again, don’t worry. Yours is 'vegetarian'.”

Steve deflates some, but Bucky can see that he’s still wary. “Prove it,” he says, and Bucky sighs dramatically to cover up the disappointment he feels at Steve not being able to trust him yet.

“Okay, come here.” He unlocks Steve’s tether at the couch and brings him over to the island countertop, locks him there. “Look.” He points to each crockpot that’s been braising the meat for hours. He’d put tape on each one to label them. The right one reads “Vegetarian,” the left one reads “Melissa.”

He's pleased as punch when Steve rolls his eyes and even laughs a little. “This is so crazy,” he mutters. “Why can’t you just enjoy cow like everybody else?” He’s asking in a good enough natured way, so Bucky indulges him,

“I told you, Honey. We’re just better.”

“Yeah yeah, I remember. ‘Tastes like roadkill in comparison’.”

“It does,” Bucky insists, though he can see Steve rolling his eyes. “Only one way to prove me wrong,” he challenges, leaning over the counter with a smirk. Steve scowls and says no way, and Bucky backs off. Instead, he tries to explain it to him, musing, “And you know, it also just makes the whole meal more of a … a spiritual experience.” He meets Steve’s eyes, and they’re riveted on him. Bucky licks his bottom lip slowly, eager to explain, to make Steve see. “When it’s not just an animal? When it's us? Well then you’re not just eating. It's so much more than that. You’re taking someone else inside yourself. You’re consuming them. It’s …” he inhales deeply. “It’s heady. It’s meaningful.” He sees Steve gulp and knows he’s playing with fire here, but he pushes onwards, taking Steve’s small hand from over the counter and covering it with his own. “No matter what they did in their life, they’re still a person. And a person matters. In a way an animal never can.” He watches the movement of Steve's closed lips, the nervous rise and fall of his Adam's apple. Bucky shivers and breathes, “It’s a very powerful thing.”

Steve pulls his hand back slowly, never looking away from Bucky’s eyes. Bucky can’t tell if he’s terrified, or fascinated, or both. He’d take both.

He breaks the tension of the moment by pulling back and standing up straight again, giving Steve some breathing room after that—admittedly impassioned—speech. “And then of course, we have Dessert: le tarte tatìn—with fennel ice cream, though I think the French would arrest me for serving it à la mode.” He moves away to go check on the crock pots and then the oven where the Pissaladiere is baking. “Almost ready,” he says brightly, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go set the table!”

Steve:

After dinner, they decide to finish watching The Hunger Games. They’ve only got the last movie to go. Bucky puts it on and they snuggle up close together on the couch. Steve is left untethered to any cord or chain, and he spends at least the first ten minutes of the movie eyeing up every solid object in the near vicinity, imagining what would or would not be suitable for bludgeoning Bucky with.

It’s a dreadful train of thought, and when Bucky pulls him in cozily against his side and kisses his hair and whispers that he’s so happy to have Steve back with him like this, Steve almost feels guilty for his scheming. He knows he has to stay strong, though. He just sat through an entire—admittedly delicious—dinner service where he watched the other man consume wine and salad and human shank.

Excuse him, he means osso buco.

Steve’s "vegetarian" version had been delicious. Bucky is an excellent cook and Steve really, really wishes he was just a normal boyfriend. Because cute little cooking-at-home-together dinner dates are so much fun with him. If only, if only. It’s so horrible that it’s laughable, and that’s what Steve’s found himself doing more often than not. Laughing about the absurdity of the situation in which he finds himself. He tells himself that it’s okay, that it’s a coping mechanism, and not him becoming used to anything. God forbid.

In the end, Steve concedes that Bucky was right: Peeta is a much better match for Katniss. “But only due to their circumstances,” he argues, as they’re eating their dessert on the couch, the credits and soundtrack music still rolling up the tv screen. “I mean, they’re just bonded through PTSD, basically. If things had gone differently, Gale would’ve been the one to know her better, deeper.” He shrugs. “Plus, he’s cuter. And taller.”

Bucky counters by pointing out that it’s always about your circumstances. “You can’t play that ‘what if’ game,” he says. “We live through what we live through. And it changes us, and that’s okay. Life doesn't always turn out the way we planned. Happiness comes from acceptance of that.”

He’s staring straight at Steve as he says it, and Steve finds his next mouthful of tarte tatìn going down with some difficulty. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I guess so." Does Bucky really expect him to accept all of this? He shifts uncomfortably and holds out his bowl. "I ah, I think I'm done with mine.”

Bucky takes it with gentle fingers and a soft expression. “I hope you liked everything,” he says. “I wanted to make this special for you. A real treat.”

"Oh." Steve flounders with his heart in his throat. “It ... it was.”

“Mm.” Bucky sets both of their bowls on the coffee table, then he comes back and crawls over to Steve on the couch, crowding him back, and back, until Steve is lying down and Bucky's over top of him. Steve shudders, parts his lips to say something in protest, but Bucky kisses him before he can.

It’s not just the kiss, is the thing. It’s the way that Bucky’s elbows and forearms box him in. It’s the way his hands slide up Steve’s shoulders, how they trace his neck and his jaw. It’s how his full body lies atop him, how his weight pushes down, sinking Steve into the cushions as good as any restraint could. It’s how he fits so perfectly between Steve’s legs, and how his hips roll, slow and purposeful, while he kisses him.

Without meaning to, Steve moans, and the moment his hands come up to hold Bucky’s shoulders, he knows it’s game over: He's lost, tonight.

He still protests the loss, of course. Tries to stop it on the couch, and then in the hallway, and in the bedroom. But Bucky hushes him endlessly, kisses away his whimpers and licks his moans into existence, taking them as permission, as Steve conceding his loss.

Steve really, really doesn’t mean it that way, but there’s only so much he can do, and so much he can take. He’s been alone and scared for weeks now, and every time Bucky touches him it’s like a dagger in his guts, a sharp and painful reminder of how they used to make love before all this happened. How good Bucky used to make him feel, how well he’d played his body and taken him apart and made him come and cry. Steve wants that again, god damn him. He wants to feel good again.

So, somewhere in-between the leather couch and the luxury bedcovers, he really does give in.

The second he stops squirming and starts really kissing back—not just accepting it, but participating—Bucky moans louder. He bites Steve’s lip and says, “Yes, baby. Come on. Let me make you feel good.”

And isn’t that just what Steve wants? It’s certainly the best he can have, in his present situation. He shivers full-body as Bucky undresses them both, then lies out over him, warm and naked. They’re both hard, and Steve pants when Bucky slots one of those thick, firm thighs between his legs and pushes, rocks his hips so his own cock drags against Steve’s belly. “Fuck, Honey,” he breathes, kissing him. Hot kiss after hot kiss, that dominating tongue rolling in and keeping Steve’s thoughts short and disjointed.

Steve keens sharply at a particularly good roll of their hips. “Oh, oh, yeah …”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, nipping his chin. “What do you want, baby? You want my fingers? Want Daddy to make love to you?”

Steve groans and turns his cheek into the pillow to escape it, the kisses and the words, both. Bucky just hums knowingly and takes up residence at his throat instead, sucking and licking and biting at the skin. Even after all that’s happened between them, he’s still remembered that one slip Steve had, when he'd let the word tumble out of his mouth: Daddy. He squeezes his eyes shut and writhes against Bucky’s larger body, dick blurting out precum at the way Bucky touches him and treats him and talks to him. He’s so fucking perfect. ... Well, except for the whole cannibalism th—

Bucky wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking just in time to put an end to that train of thought, and Steve gasps, his belly tightening in such sharp pleasure that he thinks he might come. “Sl-slow down!” he gasps, unable to stop his hips from jolting up. “I-I can’t. Wait, wait ..."

Bucky listens, cooing apologies and praise at him and petting his dick back down against his belly. His hand is slick. Where the hell did he get lube? Steve stops wondering when the hand ventures further back. “Tilt up for me, Honey,” Bucky murmurs, kissing his collarbone, humming an approving sound when Steve listens. “There you go. Good boy.”

Steve squirms harder at his embarrassing reaction to being praised. But it’s something he’s always gone for, and hearing Bucky say it in his gorgeous voice, from his gorgeous lips, makes it hit even harder. He feels a finger go in, and Bucky finds it easily, just like he always had before. He strokes over his prostate, never too rough, always gentle, letting the pleasure and pressure build inside Steve at his own pace.

“Shit,” Steve curses, gritting his teeth and rolling his hips against Bucky’s hand. Another finger joins the first, so easy, and Steve humps down harder against it. “Bucky,” he chokes, gasping. “W-wait, wait.”

“So sensitive, baby.” Bucky eases his fingers out and kisses at the corner of Steve's mouth, speaking smugly against his lips. “So wound up. What’s the matter, Stevie? Haven’t you been getting laid?” Steve grits his teeth and snarls a half-hearted “fuck you” at him, but it only makes Bucky laugh and slick his cock up and fit the head right to Steve’s entrance. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, propping himself up with his other arm, pushing in just a little, so slow, letting Steve’s body suck him in. “I’ll be gentle.”

He is. He pushes in so incredibly slow. So slow that it becomes torturous, makes Steve wrap his arms around his shoulders and hook his feet over the backs of his thighs, pulling him in closer. “Fuck,” he exhales against Bucky’s ear, dragging his lips over it. “Oh, Bucky.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck me.”

Bucky starts rolling his hips, rocking into him and pulling out just a little, just enough. It’s like he doesn’t want to get too far away from Steve, doesn’t want to separate from him long enough to make their sex anything but close and deep. Steve cries out and moans and makes all sorts of shameful noises, because it feels amazing. Grinding down against Bucky and slipping a hand between their bodies to stroke himself off, it feels so goddamn good that he cries.

He tells himself that they’re tears of pleasure, of ecstasy. But that’s not entirely true. Bucky seems to know that by the tender way he kisses them off his cheeks, by the way he whispers "it’s okay, it’s okay" to him as he fucks him, and by the way he holds him so tightly once it’s over and they’ve both spent all over Steve’s stomach. “Shh sh sh,” he calms him, forcing him still once he starts to panic and cry out and pull. “Shhh. It’s okay.” He kisses his hair and holds fast until Steve collapses, giving up the struggle, exhausted. Steve cries sluggish tears, and Bucky hugs him and says quiet things into his hair for a long time. One of them might be "I love you," but Steve isn’t sure.

Story Masterlist

Masterlist

💖To be added to any of my tag lists, please use This form (it's easy!)

🍵Consider tipping your friendly neighborhood starving artist smut author!

✍🏻Commissions: reach out via Tumblr DM or contact here

Tag List

@scottishrosefury

@not-that-syndrigast

@lolitsbuckybarnes

@kathy-2005

@stuckysgal

@thenewmissescullen

@sapphirebarnes

@Yoruse

@autumnrose40

@alexakeyloveloki

@gretasimp

@kandismom

@ivoryangel1290

@mrs-rogers-barnes1

@iloveshawnieboi

@m0k0k0

@sousydive

@sapphirebarnes

@kandis-mom

@juicyfruit-22

@bloodrosefuryao3

@laylamikaelsonbarnes

@leighta

@drfellow

@era

@smlmsworld

@mrsstuckyboo

@banneriscarried

@saltyllamakidwombat

@blackhawkfanatic

@scarlettmischief

@chibijusstuff

[39nnfq]

Writing some house party/boiler room set/rave Hex and wanted to share my ideas with the class before I upload to AO3

Read under cut :3

Aoi — happy hardcore number 1 fan. She’s the most likely to been to many raves throughout her life. Designated “rave mom” who has been around the block enough to carry fans, water, binkies, etc. You name it, she’s got it on hand. The Queen of Kandi by the way, she knows how to many anything from cuffs to masks. The light shows she gives with her new abilities would go CRAZYYYY. Probably the one to drag the Hex to parties in the first place.

Amir — you keep this boy away from any substances PLEASE or else he will start to bounce off the wall. Like a dog (haha) he will probably ingest anything anyone offers him and then after eating enough questionable things (illicit substances) he will throw up and learn his DARE lesson for the day. Will probably have a lot of fun dancing with Aoi and Eleanor but his social battery may run out relatively quickly because too many lights and people (he’s a people’s person but only to an extent). Loves light shows and the atmosphere of so many people having fun in the same place at the same time. Probably needs a toddler leash by how many times he’s simply gotten lost in the crowd chasing something that got his attention

Eleanor — guys to me.. she is a former trad and/or cyber goth. She likes industrial music and knows how to muzz and all that fun stuff. She also knows how to do makeup and will use Amir (and Arthur) as mannequins for her old trad goth makeup. Eleanor likes to bond with the others and see them happy, elbowing the sulking Arthur with a drink in his hand and motioning to the others having fun. This is the one time where she’ll break out the old dresses and thick high boots like back in the day.

Quincy — He’s not so much there for the dancing or the experience as much as he’s there to make potential connections (and “connections”). To be honest he’s rather be at the regular bar knocking back drinks and flirting with hotties, buuuut seeing everyone have fun warms his heart is something new. Will goad Lettie and Arthur into dancing too (to their annoyance). He likes to meet people and build connections as he goes, the man of many exchanges he is. HOWEVER. If you DO somehow get him on the dance floor, he would tear it to SHREDS. He knows how to jumpstyle and hakken (how did he learn that??)

Lettie — She went when she found out Arthur and Quincy were somehow talked into going. Has to play “rave mom #2” but against her will (she feels responsible for the safety of the Hex). Would probably stay in the back with her drink watching everyone else have fun, but when Amir eventually overdoes his high she trip-sits him most of the time. Brings extra narcan and water for anyone who needs it. After enough alcohol in her system she could be convinced to dance ONE TIME.

Arthur — alright alright he is undoubtedly very Anti Fun (not because of his personality but because when you’re old you get a Little Grumpy) but if you’re telling me he wasn’t also a baby bat/emo/punk kid who went to lots and lots of basement shows, you’re indubitably WRONG!! (Some of this comes from Eleanor and when she was a trad goth growing up he wanted to be Just Like Her, but always gave himself “panda eyes” with her eyeliner). He knows how to have fun, boiler rooms and raves simply aren’t his jam. Also, at his grown age he thinks he is “too old” to dance and have fun, so he prefers to “keep an eye on everyone” from a distance at the corner of the room, beer/solo cup in hand as he taps a foot to the beat. But take him back to a punk show? No one is safe in the pit. Trust.

[creepypastalemonbloglol]

Eyeless Jack x Female! Reader

:3 Medical kink? Anatomy lesson ;). Affectionate. Demon :D. Eating out.

Jack walked around the basement calmly. He had no patients except you. You had come due to some period issues.

"You said they've become irregular?" Jack asked.

You nodded, sighing. You waved your hand, a hot flash coming over you. Faster n Harder by 6arelyhuman was playing from his phone. You never expected him to listen to anything scenecore with his calm, quiet energy but here he is, tapping his foot to the boot as Rebzyyx came on. He sang the song to himself. He started to do a little dance, making you laugh.

"See, there you go, your laugh is so pretty." Jack said.

You stared, face flushing. Why the hell was that so hot? He literally just said your laugh is pretty, maybe it's just because his voice is so calm and smooth, he sounds flirtatious even when he doesn't intend to. Jack stopped for a moment. "You smell aroused." Jack said simply.

You sighed as your underwear got slowly wetter and wetter. "Yeah, that's been a lot easier lately." you said.

Jack faced you, tilting his head. "..Would you like an anatomy lesson, not many women even understand where their own clitoris is." Jack said.

You blinked, confused. Is he serious or flirting. "..Uh, sure.." You said.

Jack set his clipboard down. "Could help me understand what's wrong." Jack said calmly.

He walked over. "Would you like to know all the erogenous zones?" Jack asked curiously.

Okay, he has to be flirting now. Right?

"Sure?" you said, now more confused.

Jack nodded and reached out, he set two leather clad fingers against your neck. "The neck is very common, it's super sensitive." Jack said.

Okay, he isn't flirting. Jack got closer, moving his fingers to your shoulders. "Those are super sensitive for some people to. I particularly like it when someone bites on my shoulders." Jack said.

You blinked, purely confused now. Jack got a little closer again. "I will not touch your chest, but the chest is super sensitive, mainly the nipple and the areola." Jack said.

You blinked, shifting around nervously. "..You can if you want to.." you said nervously.

Jack froze, he faced you, his blue mask eerie. "I- um..." Jack's arms dropped to his side and he stood there awkwardly for a moment. You looked the floor, flushed. You gasped as you felt Jack's fingers back on your neck. "...Cold.." you said.

Jack's claws trailed against your neck curiously. "...Next is the abdomen, mainly the sides." Jack said.

He reached down and traced your sides through your shirt. You shivered; eyes closed. Jack tilted his head. His hand went back up, making you whine. "The lips are mainly sensitive to temperature." Jack said

He lifted up his mask a little. You stared at the blue wood. He licked your lips softly, a calm smirk on his face. "So sensitive, their sensitivity is made so you don't burn your mouth while eating hot things, but they are also an important part of sex." Jack hummed, pecking your cheek before pulling away. His hands dripped down to your thighs, he traced your inner thigh, smirking as you shivered. You reached up and slipped his mask off. You stared at the blue thread, keeping his eyes tight shut. Jack dropped down. He started to pull your jeans off. He got them halfway off, waited for a response and when you just squirmed eagerly, he pulled them off.

"Next is the pubic region. One may enjoy light pulling of the hair or rubbing." Jack said.

He pulled down your underwear and demonstrated. You didn't react as much to this, and he nodded. He slipped his glove off. "The clitoris tends to cause more orgasms than vaginal sex." Jack said.

You watched as he pressed down lightly and rubbed. You bucked your hips lightly, face flushed. "J-Jack.." you whimpered.

Jack smiled. "The vulva is next." Jack said.

He licked your folds softly. You leaned your head back, groaning softly. Jack purred softly as he opened you up a bit, licking your folds. "Your vaginal opening." Jack hummed softly.

You pushed his hood down and tugged on his hair softly. Jack smiled cheekily and licked you gratefully, lapping up your discharge.

"Mmm...arousal fluid is always so nice.." Jack purred.

You panted, tugging on Jack's hair. Jack smilled. "More?" he asked.

You nodded and he chuckled. "The g-spot and a-spot are next." Jack asked.

You yelped when one of his two tongues slipped in. One of the other's was on your clit, the third traced your folds eagerly. You whined as Jack's tongue rubbed against your g-spot. You arched your back, moaning loudly. You tugged on Jack's hair poor, pushing him harder into you. Jack growled, enjoying your squirming. He chuckled as you squeezed his head a bit with his thighs. He grabbed onto them happily, enjoying everything about this. He then slipped his other tongue in, and you were lightly shocked at how comfortable it feels. Jack reached farther back with the second tongue and hit your a-spot. You felt your face get hot as your squirmed, whimpering.

"Sh-Shit Jack!" you gasped.

Jack growled, speeding up, happily drinking you up. You whimpered as you felt your walls constrict and your body shook. Jack pulled away and began to lick everything away, not missing a drop. He smiled. He wiped his mouth. "I do believe you are fine; I think it might just be menopause; you are in your forties." Jack said.

You panted and Jack chuckled. "Everything tastes wonderful, let me get a shower ready." Jack said.

You laid there happily, Jack's phone still playing music.

[agaypanic]

Hello! Would you write a (season five Michael Kelso scenario where he and reader broke up on good terms for some reason and they are still friends (but they still love each other) So say the group goes to some event with each other (like a dinner or something for a school event) and there’s live music and like an hour or so after being there Kelso Excuses himself to go the the “restroom” and a few minutes later he’s on stage embarrassing himself singing the readers favorite song to win them back and it’s just super awkward and stuff but he thinks it’s the best way because he’s Kelso 💀 thank you!!

Take a Chance on Me (Michael Kelso X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Senior year had been full of ups and downs for the gang. After having to convince some of your friends, you all go to the last dance of the year. Your ex-boyfriend Michael Kelso has a secret plan to get you back.

***

It was just another day in Eric Forman’s basement. Everyone sat in their unassigned assigned spots watching cartoons, wondering what to do for the weekend.

“We could go to the Hub,” Eric suggested, absentmindedly playing with Donna’s hair.

“Nah, we go there too much,” Hyde said. He tapped a random beat with his foot, trying to think. “We could go to the drive-in.”

“We have no money.” Fez countered. It was true; besides Jackie, the group was pretty broke.

“And all the movies there suck anyway,” Donna added.

“We could go to Spring Fling.” Kelso shrugged like he didn’t care about his own idea.

“Ew, I don’t wanna go to a stupid dance,” Hyde said with a sneer. You lit up, thinking about Kelso’s suggestion.

“You know, I bet it wouldn’t be that bad. It might be fun.” The others didn’t look too convinced. “Come on, guys. Spring Fling is the last event of the school year; we should go!” Jackie gasped, suddenly interested in the conversation. She turned in Hyde’s lap to face him, arms hooking around his neck.

“Oh, please, Steven, let’s go!”

“No, I don’t wanna.”

“Please.”

“Jackie, I don’t wanna go to a stupid dance.” Jackie pouted, staring down at him. After a moment, he broke, letting out a long sigh. “Fine.” She clapped with glee.

“See, guys, if Hyde’s gonna go, then it can’t be that bad.” You said. After a minute of thought, everyone agreed. Jackie jumped from Hyde’s lap, grabbing your and Donna’s wrists.

“Come on! You guys gotta help me pick out what to wear!”

***

After looking through her closet, Jackie decided she didn’t like any of her clothes enough to wear to Spring Fling. So the three of you loaded into your car and went to the mall.

“Oh my gosh, Y/n, you should get this. It’s totally your color.” Jackie said, holding a dress up to your view.

“Jackie, we’re here because you wanted to shop.” 

“I know, but it’s so cute.” She held the dress against your body, and even though you didn’t necessarily need it, you did agree. “Michael would absolutely die.” You immediately pushed the dress away.

“No, he wouldn’t.”

“Yes, he would,” Donna interjected. “The entire ride to and from California, all he did was talk about you.” Now that surprised you.

Before he and Donna ran away to California in the summer, you and Michael Kelso had been dating for almost two years. But you had accidentally scared him off from talks of the future, your future together in particular. It broke your heart when he left without even a note. But miraculously, when he and Donna were brought back by Eric, you two remained good friends.

So the fact that the man who was supposed to love you and then abandoned you apparently only thought about you when he was gone was utterly baffling.

“Well, either way, I don’t care.” You responded. But you did care. And Donna and Jackie knew it too. Jackie held the dress to you again.

“At least try it on, Y/n. You’d look hot.” 

“Fine.” You yanked the hanger out of her hand and stalked off to the fitting rooms. “But I’m not doing it for Kelso!”

***

You didn’t try the dress on for him, but Kelso was definitely part of the reason why you bought it. You and the girls got ready at your house while you waited for the guys to come pick you up. Part of you wanted to just go in your own car and meet them at the dance, but everyone insisted they go together.

A few honks alerted you and the girls that the boys were in the driveway waiting. You all rushed down the stairs and walked out to see Kelso’s van. He rolled down the window, sticking his head out.

“Y/n, you can come sit up front.” Jackie and Donna smirked, pushing you toward the front while they went to sit in the back. Kelso reached over to open the door for you, and you climbed in. Music played as he drove, everyone talking in the back. “You look pretty.” You were taken off guard by how shy he sounded. He glanced at you, borderline staring whenever you were at a stoplight.

“Thanks.” You looked at him, clearing your throat. “You look pretty too.” You wanted to slap yourself. You tried to compliment him back but didn’t know what to say. Before you could correct yourself, he grinned. He grinned the way he did when you complimented him when you were dating, equally shy and prideful from your attention.

“Thanks.”

The gym was filled by the time you got to the school. You were honestly surprised that this many people had come to a school event that wasn’t prom. But it seemed like everyone was having fun, especially with the live music. It seemed to be a group of underclassmen that didn’t have anything better to do.

“When can we leave?” Hyde immediately asked. Jackie slapped his arm, telling him to behave.

“We can’t leave yet hide.” Fez rolled his eyes as if Hyde had forgotten an important part of the night that would be happening at this dance. “We have to stay for when Kelso-”

“Hey, Fez, there’s a snack table. Go nuts.” Kelso interrupted, pushing his friend away. The rest of the group dispersed, leaving you and Kelso to dance, which was really just shifting your weight from foot to foot in time to the music.

“What was Fez talking about?” You asked. Kelso laughed nervously, waving his hand.

“Oh, nothing. We gave him some chocolate before we left, and you know how he gets.” Sensing he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, you nodded and pointed behind him.

“I think I’m gonna get some punch.”

“I’ll go with you.”

Like a shadow, Kelso stayed close to you for the rest of the night. But not in a weird way. In fact, it comforted you that he was near you like he used to be. He only left you to go to the bathroom, so now you waited for him in the crowd of friends and strangers. You were talking to Donna about something when she nudged your shoulder and pointed behind you towards the makeshift stage. You turned around confused but soon became horrified.

Michael Kelso was standing on stage, staring at you while he adjusted the height on the microphone stand, and the band behind him started playing a familiar tune.

“I’d like to dedicate this song to Y/n L/n.” He announced quickly before he ran out of intro music. He then went on to sing Take a Chance on Me from ABBA, smiling dumbly at you the entire time. For some verses, he would do little dances or act out the lyrics. He wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t necessarily good either. Everyone laughed, including the gang, but he didn’t care.

While Michael sang, you were hit with a flood of memories. This song played on the jukebox during your first date at the Hub. He was so nervous, which made you giggly because he had never acted so scared around you. That night, he walked you home and kissed you at the door; the rest was history.

It was a history that you wanted to keep buried. He had left you because he was scared about having a future with you, throwing away the good years between you when he ran to California.

But along with that history was your love for Michael Kelso. And everything was starting to come up to the surface.

Suddenly, he was standing in front of you. The song was over, and the band was now playing something else, distracting everyone around you, so you could only focus on each other.

“I want you back.” The statement hit you like a ton of bricks as if he hadn’t just dedicated a serenation to you of what you considered to be your song. “Please, Y/n. I want another chance.”

“You left me.” You don’t know why you said that. You wanted to say, ‘Yes, Michael Kelso, I’ll give you another chance because I never stopped loving you.’ But you guessed that your brain overrode your heart because it was supposed to know better.

“I know.” He sounded so sad and full of regret. “I freaked out.”

“You ran over 2,000 miles away.”

“I know.” Kelso started to sound defeated, which broke your heart. “I, I was scared. I didn’t think I was ready for anything after graduation. So when you started talking about life after high school, I realized I had no idea what to do.”

“Micah, please tell me there’s a ‘but.’” Calling him by the nickname only you would call him felt so natural, and he almost melted at the name like he used to. But he had to focus.

“But, when I was in California, I would try thinking about what I wanted to do if and when I came back to Point Place. And every time I had an idea, you were there. Every single time.”

You were speechless. In all the years you had known Michael, he was never this articulate or romantically outspoken with his feelings. Based on your expression, he knew you didn’t know what to say but would allow him to keep talking. So he did.

“I’m not going anywhere this time. I swear. I’ll get on my knees and beg you if I have to, Y/n. Please, all I need is one more chance.” He started to get nervous because you were still silent. You just stared at him. “Say something.”

“Okay.” It was quiet, and he shouldn’t have been able to catch it because of how loud and crowded the gym was, but he did. He grinned.

“Okay?” You nodded in confirmation.

“Okay.” You stood on your toes and threw yourself on him, arms around his neck and head buried in his shoulder. On instinct, Kelso wrapped his arms around your waist, slightly lifting you off the ground. You pulled your head up to look at him, noses bumping. “But just one chance.”

“That’s all I need, Baby.” He leaned forward and kissed you while you still dangled in the air. Your friends were probably freaking out at the sight, and other Spring Fling participants probably wished you would move because you were borderline making out on the dance floor. But none of that mattered. In your head, it was just you, Michael Kelso, and a new chance.

[crescentblossom66]

Elevated Memories

A little fic that was more or less done for the Dead Bird Studio discord server. It's once again an experiment where I wrote both Conductor's thoughts, which will be in purple, and also DJ Grooves' thoughts, which will be blue. The point of view switches twice, but it's obvious whose view it's from.

“CUT!!! CUTCUTCUTCUTCUT!!!” I feel a twinge of pain in me eye as I pop a vein, not surprising, given the terrible performance of me owls which nearly caused me ta tear out me feathers. The hatted lassie drops her revolver prop after having desperately tried to get a firm grasp on it, me yellin' likely the cause for her lack of focus. But how could I not yell after the disaster that happened right in front of me very eyes!

One job, these peck necks had the simple job of merely standin' 'round lookin' scared, and they even peck that up! One day I'll just drop dead due to an aneurysm, I swear on me mum! Scene forty two, the accursed number that haunts me nightmares and even me wakin' hours. We've been stuck filmin' that damn scene over and over till I can quote it word for word for the past 3 hours now. One time an owl knocked a cactus prop over (They'll get the repairs for that taken out of their wage, obviously), another time a line was mumbled until it was unrecognizable, making me yell at the lad and tell 'im ta take the towel out of his beak, and now this!

I look at the broken camera, murdered in cold electricity by a stray bullet from the owl that was playing the leader of the greatest bandit group that would ever be featured in a Western, no, in the entirety of cinematography!...given that I donnae suffer a stroke befer we finish it. Me feathers raise the longer I look at the broken lens of me camera, and I subsequently shift me gaze over ta the culprit who's quiverin', unmistakably aware that I'm gonna rip him a new one. “Ye dimwitted, feckless, spineless, piece o'-” I turn me gaze away from the sobbing, misty-eyed pile of misery that was squirming after I grab him by the collar, and turn it ta the young lassie that pulled me sleeve ta get me attention.

“Accidents happen, he didn't do it on purpose. I'm sure that I can fix the camera in my spaceship later.”

Later, LATER!!! I NEED THAT CAMERA NOW! I CANNAE WAIT TILL LATER! WE'LL BE BEHIND SCHEDULE!!! If we cannae record the scene, me lousy peck neck of a rival will dance smugly in front of me during the next studio meetin' and taunt me in front of everyone by tellin' me how slow I am at recordin'. At least I make sure that I create with quality and not shoddily! If I donnae have enough time, me movie will lack flourish and grandeur and if I lack that then...then...I'll lose again! I CANNAE LET THAT HAPPEN...EVER!!!

The lassie likely saw me right head-feathers twitch in anger, either that or she heard me grind me beak in frustration as her eyes showed a hint of distress. I take a deep breath ta calm down. Deep inhale...slow exhale, that's better. I place a talon on her shoulder gently, not wantin' ta strike fear inta the only actor I have that is actually worth her money...If I'd pay her, that was...which I don't...Exposure is payment too, right? Right! “Aye, yer right, lassie, but we cannae halt the recordin'. I think we still have a few of 'em in the basement.” The camera destroyer takes a sigh in relief that gets caught in his throat as me gaze briefly lands on him, I can only hope that he can feel the contempt I got fer him. Makin' me waste time, crawlin' 'around the lower parts of the studio fer a replacement camera, wastin' time and resources, all because he cannae even aim straight...Peckin' buffoon...

The elevator takes his sweet time, as usual and it annoys me, just as usual. I tap me foot letting out a growl that results in the wee kid next ta me takin' a step away from me, the little tune that she had started ta hum a felt eternity earlier, getting' slightly off tune. “Wouldn't it be faster if the Express Owls helped in the search for a camera?” The young girl next to me asks cautiously, the small smile on her face looking more forced as the seconds pass.

I have to stifle a scoff, as I cross me wings. “These scatterbrained bundles of anxiety? Pah, me dead granny would be able ta get the “SS literally can't sink” back ta the surface and fixed befer these morons find a camera, even if it stands right in front o' their faces.” A rather defeated sigh escapes the mouth of the young lass, but she cannae deny that I'm right, they'd be more of a nuisance than helpful. I make me way inta the elevator and press the button fer the lower floors, grumbling as I know that the descent will be a long one. Around a minute in, and around halfway ta the bottom, the pleasant humming of the young lassie starts up again, and I can see 'er look less tense in my peripheral vision.

I ain't that scary, am I? I need ta command a certain amount of authority or the lads willnae do what I want 'em ta...Trying ta reason never did work, it didn't befer, and it won't now either. Still...am I scaring the wee lassie?

Thankfully, me hatted actress doesn't seem to realize what I meself noticed at that moment, that me posture had shifted ever so slightly, me head-feathers lowered and me shoulders slouched a bit. I quickly straightened up again befer she snaps out of the happy daydream the lass seems to be havin', her eyes unfocused and a wide smile on her face. Cannae show any weakness or doubt, never!

Upon reaching the blasted basement, the first thing we come across, like every time, is the ever growin' pile of bills. “There aren't a lot of cinemas on this planet, are there?” With that, the girl drew attention to the biggest issue this planet had, WAAAAYYY too many uneducated, simpletons who don't understand the greatness, the unlimited potential of the bestest art form ever conceived, cinematography!

“Aye, lass, it's a darn shame, everyone is a critic these days.” I continue walkin', motioning for me wee actress to follow. “A'ight, the cameras should be somewhere 'round 'ere.” I pray that me crew hasnae rearranged things again...last time was a disaster that I had been lucky enough no one saw...nearly fell off one of these crates...

The lass keeps hoppin' from crate ta crate, focusing on readin' the old and sometimes crudely written labels on the boxes on me side of the storage area. “You really have to work on your calligraphy, Conductor. My handwriting is better and I've only been on this planet for a few months.”

Who does this wee hatchling think she is?! Accusin' me of bad handwriting! I can read it and nae a bird has ever complained about it!...It might explain why me owls seem to be unable to read a basic and easy ta understand script...nah, they're just illiterate peck necks!

“Pah! This likely ain't even me handwriting, lassie. Ye're just confusin' it with something one o' owl wrote.” I shake my head smiling a bit self-satisfied at me explanation, but the smile leaves me face again the next second.

“Caution! Highly Exblowsive!-” The lass' smile turns rather smug, causing me ta scowl. “It's signed with 'Conductor'. You spelled explosive wrong, by the way.”

I cross me wings and defend me honor as best I can. “Must have been a prank from those dull-witted penguins.” I cannae face her directly, feelin' a bit called out, but I can hear a knowing 'sure' from the troublemaker. “Quit yer yappin' and find us a damn camera, lass.” She only giggles and thankfully doesnae comment any further. I search the ground boxes fer a camera, only find' useless junk aside from one crate. I had been wondering where my McGuffins were! Thought someone stole them...a certain talentless penguin to be more specific.

“Found it! Look!” I look up at the hatted kid and follow where she's pointin', praying internally that what I had been afraid o' the whole time since we got here wouldnae be the case, but alas, it was. A box, indisputably labeled 'Cameras', cracked open slightly to reveal the lens o' one o' the motion capturing devices which at that angle perfectly captured the ground far below, taunted me with it's presence at the very top of a tall stack. “It's a bit hard to reach from here...” While I stand there, trying ta compose meself again, the lass looks around probably attempting ta find a way ta reach the box with the cameras. “...Can't you just...fly up there. You're a bird, right?...I mean you have wings and tail feathers and other bird-like properties, even if I can't tell what bird you're supposed ta be...if I were to describe you, I'd say 'A lot of sharp edges in a suit'”

I already zoned out at the word 'fly', barely registering the rest of her sentence. Flying, a very easy concept for any bird, and taught at a young age, yet...something that caused me nothin' but grief.

Why does this stupid crate have ta be so far up there!? How am I supposed ta tell the lassie that I cannae fly? She'll laugh at me! She'll think I'm weak and pathetic!...She'll walk away and never come back...

I nearly gasp in surprise when I feel small hand on me shoulder and turn to look inta the concerned eyes of the young girl. “You were spacing out there...-” Her eyes wander up and down as if to scrutinize me “-You're shaking and panting slightly...Are you okay?”

I laugh heartily to mask the panic that had settled in me bones. “Of course! I'm just fine and dandy! Was just thinkin' 'bout the bills and all that jazz.” She seems to buy that sorry excuse I scrambled together and I internally sigh in relief.

“Just fly up there and get one of the cameras down. I can run up the walkway next to the stack and grab the stand of it if you pass it down to me.” The lass points at the walkway around 10 meters (33 feet) up above us, the stack is a bit taller. the way the option she described could work in theory, but...

“I...I cannae fly up there, lass. I uh, I got a nasty strain in me wing, got out o' bed and me whole wing ached. No flyin' fer me today.” More like no flying for me...ever.

The hatted lass looks slightly concerned. “Oh, okay. I guess we have to try something different.”

Me acting must be unparalleled today! Can't believe she fell fer that! I really dodged a bullet there. If she finds out that I can't fly and that I'm afraid o' heights, the girlie will tell everyone that I'm a coward. I'm nae a coward! I haven't gotten ta where I am now by bein' scared and runnin' away!

While I'm busy celebratin' me tiny victory, me actress heads up to the walkway and tries to climb the stacks o' boxes. That's why I like the lass, always takin' the initiative, being brave and quick on her feet! She reminds me o' meself when I was around her age. I'm in awe when I see that she managed to actually get to the box way up on the stack. “Hey, I think I can pass it down to you if you get up on the walkway.”

Oh no...oh nononononono!!! She wants me ta get up there?! But it's so HIGH up! Merely looking up there is nearly paralyzing! How am I supposed ta get up there! I-I-I-I cannae!...But I gotta! If I donnae get up there, the lass will suspect that somethin' is wrong and will question why I'm hesitatin'. She'll laugh at me, she will.

After taking a very deep breath and gatherin' all me courage. I start ta climb the ladder. As I watch the ground get further and further away, me heart pounds faster and faster in response, and if I could sweat, I'd likely sweat bullets.

You can do this lad, just a wee bit more, donnae think about, about how far away the ground is and...

'Connor is a coward, can't even fly, Connor is a coward, if he drops he'll go bye bye. Even a penguin could fly better than him, much to his chagrin.'

Shut up, SHUT UP!!! I'm nae a coward! Ye ain't got nothin' on me! YER ALL PECK NECKS, EVERYONE OF YE!!! Calm donwn, Connor, calm down...that was ages ago...those idiots are long out of yer life fer good. They achieved nothing while ye made yer dream a reality. Ye got this!

With shaking wings and a posture which likely would have resulted in me rival's obnoxious, deep and hearty laughter if he saw me right now, I make it onto the walkway. The only savin' grace in all this is that the young lass has her back turned ta me and cannae see me sorry state.

Donnae panic, whatever the peck ye do, donnae panic! Yer an adult, a strong and tough director. A wee bit o' height won't beat ye, ye cannae let it beat ye! One step befer the other...Fight it, Connor, fight it!

By focusin' only on the box and the lassie, I make it over ta the stack. So far so good, just need ta not look down and everything will be fine. “I'm in p-position, lass. Give me t-ta the c-camera.”

“...Don't you mean 'give the camera to me?” The girl pulls the camera out of the box, stumbling a bit as she had nowhere to really tread. “Are you sure that you're okay, Conductor? You look a bit...scared.”

“I ain't scared! Who do ye think yer talking ta?! A-Aye...Aye, I'm fine, just be careful, yeah?” With one swift and rather skillful motion, the kid with the hat pulls out the camera from the box and tries ta hand me the stand, however, an agonizing arm's length stands between me and being able ta continue recordin'. I gulp, gluing me vision ta the camera, me heart poudin' in me chest and the beat reverberating in me ears. It takes all me self control ta not have me beak chatterin' ta nae show the lass just how terrified I really am. Don't look down! Don't look down! Whatever the peck ye do, donnae look down! The words of the lass hardly reach me ears, something about stretchin' was all I can hear. I lean forward ever so slightly, felling like I'm goin' ta throw up me lunch.

Ye got this! Ye got this! Ye got this! Quit panicking and jus' grab the pecking camera, Connor! All ye have ta do is reach out and grab that blasted camera!

Creak

“AAAAHH!!!”

So high! Too high! Too threatenin'! I'LLDIEI'LLDIEI'LLDIE!!! IT'LL BREAK ME! GRAVITY WILL BREAK ME! DKHGOÖG ODGÖCJOÖRM GEGÖIHFKDLFKJC VÖWOHSLJA;D GLC

The next moments felt like a blur. All I can recall now is that I jolted away from the railin' of the walkway and pressed me back against the wall opposite of it so much that me back now hurts. Me heart was goin' so quick I could hardly tell on heartbeat from another. I felt sick, I only felt that sick once in me life befer. The fear must have overtaken me. The last thing I recall was that someone moved me!

“-EY! C_NDUC___ ! A__ YOU _KAY?” Me heart still beatin' louder than the volume of me train's whistle and bell combined makes it hard ta understand the words directed at me. It's the lassie's voice though, I'm sure o' it. I try ta calm down and gather me thoughts again. I open me eyes that I had closed shut tightly after I stumbled back against the wall. “You're safe, I brought you to the ground. What happened there? Are you okay?” The first thing I see after me vision clears after havin' me eyes closed fer who knows how long, could have been hours or minutes, I had lost all sense fer the passage of time in the panic, are the deep blue eyes of the hatted girlie.

After takin' a few more deep breaths ta calm down, I freak out yet again after realizing something.

The lass had seen me panic and fear on full display!!!

Oh no! What do I do? Me reputation! Me image is going to be ruin ferever! The lass is likely laughing at me internally, tauntin' me by feigning worry! AHHH! I'M FINISHED! ME DAYS AS A DIRECTOR ARE NUMBERED! T-The owls will laugh at me! The penguins will make fun o' me! I'll be know as the wimpy failure of a director! And the worst thing is, that DJ will win! I cannae beat 'im, That damn penguin will get everything!

'Connor is a coward, can't even fly, Connor is a coward, if he drops he'll go bye bye. Even a penguin could fly better than him, much to his chagrin.'

NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!

The harsh shaking me undaunted actress was giving me in an attempt to bring me back ta me senses, nae doubt, makes me gasp and pant, but it has the effect that she wanted.

“Don't panic, okay? Everything is alright. Uh...I-I'm going to go and get help. I'll hurry, okay?” The girl gives me an empathetic looking fake smile and runs away.

She'll tell the others.....this is it, me career is over...Nae a soul is going ta want ta watch me movies...everyone will laugh and wheeze at how pathetic I am. A pathetic loser...they were right, weren't way? The other kids back then were right. I'm a good-fer-nothing...Cannae fly, am afraid o' heights...Pathetic, truly unbearable and inferior garbage...nae a bird, just as they always said.

I ignore the tears that are threatenin' ta stain me clothes and get up, me head hanging low, me vision locked on the ground in front o' me, the wooden boards now feeling less safe and more wrong than ever befer. Shaky steps echo down the silent hallway as I walk, not even sure where ta exactly, but away, far away from the birds upstairs. The bustling background noise and their chattering soon to be replaced by scornful and condescending laughter. Laughter aimed at me. Laughter aimed at the last shreds of me pride and dignity.

-

“Alright, darlings, just one more scene. I can feel it, this movie will be our greatest one yet!” With a smile, I watch as my diligent and lovely actors get ready for the next scene of our soon to be magnum opus. I was about to sit down in my director's chair and start the fabulous new scene that I added only this morning, but the double doors behind me being pushed open with enough force to make them hit the wall behind them makes me instantly turn around. I expect to see the grim and unpleasant faced of my annoying rival, bristled feathers and tawdry clothes and all. I'm ecstatic when the intruder turns out to be my stylish diva.

I knew that she couldn't resist coming over to my side of the studio for long, no one can stay sane with that loud, grumpy bird breathing down their necks, just waiting to yell 'cut' for the thousandth time that day. She's getting over here rather fast and she seems upset if that look on her face is any indication...What did that foul-mouthed Conductor do to her?!

I frown, fearing the worst for my celebrated diva, full on ready to storm over to my rival's depressing set to have a stern word with him. “Ah, nice to see you, darling! What brings you here on this fine day?” The girl stops in front of me, her eyes wide as she tries to speak inbetween pants, she must have sprinted over here.

“Conductor...panic...don't know...what to do!” I raise an eyebrow, turning to the penguins behind me to see if any of them understood what my little star was trying to communicate to us, I only receive shrugs as an answer.

I bet that egomaniac yelled at her, for some trivial thing no less! Maybe whatever he said or did made her panic and run away in terror, I wouldn't put it past him. If there's one thing that the Conductor can never rein in it's that horrid temper of his! Alright, Grooves, first things first, the girl needs some positive attention for once.

The hatted darling inhales deeply as I place my flipper on her shaking shoulders and pull her a bit closer to comfort her. “Deep breaths, darling, everything's fine. You're safe here.” She nods and I wait a few seconds for her to catch her breath before I address her again. “What happened, was the Conductor mean to you?” I give the girl a friendly smile, trying to hide my anger over the awful, yet unsurprising bad treatment that likely got her into the state that she is in.

My distressed diva looks up at me, showing not fear as I had first suspected, but worry. “I...I don't really know what happened. He panicked and I had to take him down form the walkway and...” She has the same look in her eyes of a girl that had done something bad and felt guilty, yet I fail to make sense of the situation.

I bend down to talk to her, trying to be less intimidating to the child that way, hoping it might mitigate her panic. “Just start from the begin, darling. Tell me everything that happened.”

She meets my gaze again, at least the look of guilt switching to worry once more. “I was helping out Conductor today and we were on the first set after you enter his side of the studio. It wasn't going too well and he got really angry once an owl broke one of his cameras. I told him that I could fix it and bring it back to the set tomorrow, but he said that interrupting the recording was out of the question. We went to the basement and he acted strangely after we found the camera in a box that was on top of a huge stack of crates.”

I give her a nod in understanding. So my rival was his usual self, an insufferable menace to his owls and likely himself , what else is new. “What do you mean by, 'acted strangely'? Did he break something down there in his rage? Wouldn't be the first time, darling.”

“No, that wasn't it, he wasn't violent. It was...more like the opposite, when I told him to climb up to the walkway while I got the camera, he looked really freaked out, like he was scared and then...” She cast her eyes down to her feet again, hesitating until I lightly squeeze her shoulders to prompt her to continue. “He panicked and jumped back, hitting the wall behind him on the walkway. I got shocked and worried and hurried over immediately after. The Conductor was shaking like a leaf, and had sat down and pulled his knees to his chest. His breathing came in quick and deep, but ragged breaths, like he was gasping for air constantly. He..even started crying.”

...Did I just hear that right? The great, confident, tough strong man Conductor...cried. Now THAT would be a sight to behold! That old bird finally feeling terrible for once after making me and everyone around him feel like trash Every. Single. Day! No matter what caused it, it serves him right!

“He cried, darling? That's...awful, truly.” The girl nods.

“Yes...I feel bad for him. Can you help me calm him down?” I can't ignore the pleading eyes of the girl and try to look sorrowful to match the solemn atmosphere, but I can't deny the triumph I feel over the news.

“Of course I'll help, we can't leave the old bird in that state now, can we?” We could, but I don't think that my little star here would approve of that. She makes a motion to get me to follow her and I do as prompted, leaving my flashy and welcoming set and side of the studio to enter the bland, dark and dusty side of my rival. I briefly glance at the owls we walk past, they seem to try and console one of their own. I wager that owl was the Conductor's latest victim, tormented by the wrath of his superior and treated in an unkind and despicable fashion, I can't help but let a small frown cross my beak.

The poor darling fidgets and steps from one foot to the other nervously, she even took down her top hat, kneading it as we wait for the elevator to take us down to the depths of the studio.

In all honesty, I always hate the basement, the state of disrepair the whole lower floors is in is very concerning, but when I mention it in meetings, everyone glosses it over as if the problem will magically fix itself. One would think that the winners of the movie awards have a lot of money, but with the lack of cinemas on this planet, it's impossible. What a sad and uninspiring world we live in, a true tragedy. It would all be better if the Moon had more cinemas, my popularity would sky rocket!

When we reach the lower floors, the little darling sprints ahead so fast that I have a hard time following her, not because of my fabulous plateau shoes of course, merely because I like to take my time walking...through this...dark...gloomy, totally not vibe destroying basement.

A new coat of paint would do the place wonders, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I never have the time for that...or to fix the ceiling that's leaking. That old owl really shirks all responsibility. As famous as a celebrity, but having a workplace like a hobo with barely enough money to pay for food and water, the Conductor wouldn't know about aesthetics if they punched him in the face.

The girl stops on the ground in corner, looking around frantically, no sign of the yellow-feathered 'bird'. “Where is the Conductor, darling?”

She gives me a worried and panicked look...She really worries about that old geezer, huh. “H-He was here before! I left him here and told him to stay when I went to get you for help!”

“Calm down, I'm sure that I know where he is.” I know this bird for long enough, much to my chagrin. If I were the Conductor and I was freaking out horribly and was scared where would I go for comfort? The Owl Express, of course! “I'm sure that he went to his train, darling, we should start our search there.” I take the hand of the young girl to comfort her, it's trembling, making me feel sorry for the girl. Scaring a girl like that Conductor, no matter how bad you may feel, don't break down in front of a poor child.

We head to the station outside, the hot desert sun, cooking me alive...who in their right mind built a studio out here in such a hostile environment anyway? Penguin or not, this heat can't be good. I wonder if the creature of this planet would freeze on the Moon...Wanting to get out of this singeing heat as fast as possible, I waste no time heading to the vehicle that I despise more than cyclists on the city roads...they really have to make designated lanes for those soon, or I won't be held accountable for my actions. “Conductor, are you there!” I yell, waiting for the inevitable hostile yell back...but it never came. No 'Go away, ye stupid peck neck!', no 'Piss off, Grooves!', nothing, just silence.

“Maybe he isn't here, he could be in his office.” The theory of my young star was quickly disproved when steam comes from the sides of the train as if the old steam locomotive was about to start moving, and sure enough, the heavy wheels of the pride and joy of my rival begin moving. For a moment I just stand there, beak agape, until I make a decision. I grab my diva's hand and head toward the caboose, we could jump on as long as the train doesn't gain too much speed.

Very mature, Conductor, just leave the station and run away like a child who did something that would anger their parents instead of facing either me or the little darling. So much for being a tough guy, nothing but a despicable coward! I'm getting steam all over my clothes, but I'm doing it for the young star, not for irredeemable egomaniac!

We barely leap onto the train in time, just before it gets enough speed to just leave us in the dust. “Whoa, that was close! Why did he want to leave us behind like that? We just want to talk with him.” The hatted darling laments, I can see that she wants to help, but knowing that owl, he tried to escape just so he doesn't have to explain himself.

I'm starting to wonder just how bad whatever happened to the Conductor really was, if he went to such lengths to get away. In hindsight, it would have been smarter to have my little actress call out to him instead. I should be happy that he's so out of it, yet this whole situation is so bizarre.

We make our way from the back of the train to the front where we likely find either a triumphant Conductor, who's going to laugh at me for falling for this rather sick prank, or a really distressed Conductor. I'm still a bit unsure which, but he normally isn't the type for such elaborate pranks, he lacks the intelligence to come up with something like this. The interior of the train always makes my eyes hurt, it feels like most if is as old as the owner of it himself. Something one would find in an old country club from the 19th century, ancient, dusty, dull and worn, I should sue him and demand personal injury compensation for the eye strain this is causing me. The hatted darling soldiers on, undaunted by the antiquated furniture that tortures me by merely existing much like my rival does.

The moment we arrive at the front door, the young girl wastes no time and knocks on the door daintily. “Conductor, are you okay? Can you open the door please.” I swear I heard a small gasp at the question. “I just want to help” I make a decision after seeing that the young girl next to me started to cry from worry. I know it is rude, but I consider barging into the room payback for all the times he did this to me, and I called him out on it several times too, yet he never payed it any mind.

I push the door open, still half expecting him to either laugh in my face or push me out immediately in his standard hostile fashion, but when I enter, I don't see the Conductor at all. He couldn't have left, could he? I heard him in here just before. All I see now though are the controls of the train and his chair near the panel with the gazillion buttons that no one but him had any idea what they do. “Are you in here, Conductor?” I call out, once again not really receiving an answer. I carefully step into the room, making sure that he won't catch me of guard, maybe it's a bit paranoid, but I'm not taking any chances with that old coot. When I do find him, I can fully understand why the hatted darling reacted the way she did, that Conductor was a shadow of himself. He sits huddled together in the little area right under the control panel, shaking a bit still. The moment he sees me, his already lowered head feathers lower even more and I swear that flinched slightly.

How pathetic and small he is now, not so confident and condescending now, are we? It serves you right, Conductor! Whatever happened finally put you down a peg and I can't say that I disapprove. Maybe now you finally know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of suffering.

The kid elbows me and I realize that I was smiling before, an inappropriate reaction for sure, however she doesn't understand just how many times this owl forced me to feel the exact same way! I deserved the satisfaction of seeing him forlorn and pained for once. I sigh. She was right, I had to at least try to be the bigger person here, for the little darling's sake.

“What are you doing down there, Conductor?” I nearly expected the following action of my rival, turning away instead of facing me, only making himself smaller to fit even deeper into the small crevice. Nearly instinctively, I reach my arm out to touch the owl's shoulder to get him to react, but he slaps it away in a swift and violent motion of his wing, the first action today that was in character for the yellow eyesore.

Be like that then! If you want to behave like a little chick and sulk, be my guest. I have done what I could! There's no way to talk to the owl if he's in his stubborn mood, moving the whole studio by hand would be easier.

“Can you at least tell me that you're okay now?” The girl next to me asked the yellow-feathered bird who took a deep breath, but didn't reply. This was getting rather ridiculous, he is a grown bird, he should act like one!

“Conductor, at least answer the question. The little darling did help you out after all.” It's faint, but I can finally hear something that sounded like quiet muttering. I had to strain my ears to hear the choked up whisper, but it sounded like 'Did you tell anyone?' I turn to my little diva with one eyebrow raised and she answered the question that I asked non-verbally.

“No, I didn't tell anyone about what happened except for DJ Grooves here.” The most exasperated and anguished groan escapes the jagged beak of the pile of misery under the panel, it was almost a wail. The hatted darling cringed slightly, maybe realizing that telling your friend's rival that he had a mental breakdown wasn't the smartest move.

I sigh loudly. “Look, Conductor. I'm not here to make fun of you.-” Although I kind of want to deep down. “-Now get out from under there and tell us what happened?” I bend down to check on the owl, who gives me a scrutinizing glare, likely trying to gauge if I was speaking the truth.

“Fine, ye both ain't gonna leave till I tell ye anyway, are ye?” Wow...if his voice sounded awful normally, now it sounded dreadful, he must have been crying. I make some space for the old owl to exit his little hiding space and the moment that I see him in a brighter environment, I'm taken aback by how messy he looks. His hat is scrunched up badly, and his feathers are a mess, even his normally so prim and proper suit is wrinkled and has wet sleeves.

The little darling wasn't lying when she told me that the Conductor panicked and looked troubled. I don't think I've ever seen him this disheveled, not even when drunk. By the stars...even I feel a twinge of sympathy.

“I'll tell ye what happened...-” I nearly flinch when he goes from looking at the ground like he just got told that he lost a beloved family member to looking me straight in the eyes...if he could actually reach my eye or if he had any to begin with...I now him for god knows how long, but to this day I have no clue if even has eyes. “If ye DARE tell anyone else, I'll rip out yer eyeballs and shove them down yer throat.” The threat would have had more weight to it if his voice hadn't broken half way through it.

“Alright, I promise.” I may not care too much about the state he's in right now, even if it was pretty awful, but it might help ease the girls worries. I sit down on a chair that the little darling provided, she must have sprinted to the cart behind us to get some. I fold my flippers and legs, looking at the my little star briefly before I turn my attention back to the yellow bird.

“This is gonna be a long one, ye better strap in. If either of ye laugh, I'll through ye off me train, ye got it? Good.”

-

“It was bright and sunny, cloudless day in the small town near the desert that I lived in. As always, I was bored out of my wee mind listening to crap about math or physics or suchlike. Total nonsense and nothing I deemed worth me time, so instead I was doodlin' in me textbook. I couldae wait fer the bell ta release me from that boring punishment. When it did, I and the rest of me class rushed outside ta get away from that hellhole as fast as possible.”

“That might explain why you're so bad at spelling.” Hat Kid mumbled and I glare at the little lass then at the DJ that was snickering form her comment.

“Moving on, as I hurried out, one of the peck necks in me class grabbed me backpack and pulled me back and another one o' 'em grabbed me sketchbook where I kept me ideas fer me movies and concepts...and drawings of me pa's train.”

“They bullied you?” The young lassie looked both shocked and saddened.

“Aye, lass, it's just how it is then yer greatness cannae be recognized by the people around ye. Ye get ostracized and shoved 'round like yer unfastened and unclaimed luggage in a train when it goes around a bent.

“Are you sure you weren't pushed around because of your appearance and your height, darling.” If I had the strength to argue in that moment I would have done more than simply snarl at that cruel comment.

“If yer done interruptin' when let me continue the tragic tale that crippled the greatest director known ta bird fer his whole life. Of course I turned around to fight the bastard that did this to me, but being...uh...vertically challenged, I had trouble to get a good hit in and instead got shoved ta the ground. They ran away with me sketchbook, out inta the sweltering sun, taunting me, saying things like: “Come and get it back, shorty! You're never gonna get it back, ground dweller!”

“You couldn't fly, darling? I thought that other birds learned that from a young age.”

“It just didnae come natural to me, okay! I would have been a late-bloomer!...If that incident hadn't ruined any chances of me ever bein' able to fly.”

“What happened, Conductor?”

“I'd be able ta tell ye if ye both would quit interruptin' me very two sentences! I'm tellin' ye something traumatic that happened ta me, show some respect! This is nae easy!” I cross me wings, feeling slightly discouraged by the rude comments from the DJ who seems ta have fun tauntin' me. Why did the lassie take him here?! Of all the people she could have brought here, it just had to be that stupid DJ Peck Neck!

“I ran after them, of course! Chased them all the way up the steep and towering canyon near me home town. The thing was massive, I tell ye, had jagged sharp rocks and the highest point was easily a 50 meter (164 feet) drop, nothin' ta even say about the animal out fer yer blood in its crevices and cracks. Tarantulas and scorpions were hidin there, just waitin' for unsuspecting folk ta claim as victims with their poison!”

The lassie started to shiver slightly and me rival put his dirty flipper on her shoulder. Sure, try to get plus points by calming her down...No one ever calmed ME down as a lad when I was scared, always had to fight me own battles!

“I know that you have a tendency to be dramatic, darling, but please, just stay on the topic, you're scaring the little star.” The lass forced a smile, still listening.

“It's okay, I can handle it. Are there really so many dangerous creatures on this planet? Then again...you guys have tried to kill me already and there's Snatcher and Vanessa...I don't thing anything could ever be scarier than Queen Vanessa.” The girl shivered for a brief moment, both me and the DJ exchanged glances, even through his shades I could tell that he had no idea who that Queen Vanessa character was...unfortunately we both knew too well how scary that purple pool noodle was...Making me fight the lassie was simply despicable.

Before we get further away from the topic, I continue. “So, I had to make the perilous climb to chase after the evil peck necks that took me sketchbook. Unlike the unskilled birds that could fly, I had to climb me way up the canyon, claw me way to the top like a determined mountain climber, just that I didnae even have safety gear. Had I fallen, I would have broken me bones, but I really needed me sketchbook back! Bit by bit I made me way to the top and then it happened, one of the rocks that I tried to reach fer broke off and I nearly fell!”

The girlie was on the edge of her seat, clearly I hadn't lost me touch in story tellin'! It brought a smile ta me face, even if I still felt horrible. I had a massive headache and I felt more sluggish when the day after I failed a stunt and fell on me back. I donae even wish this on the peck neck that sits across from me, even if he deserves it, especially after he rolled his eyes in a dismissive fashion! Dumb peck neck!

Always one for drama, trying to sound like he's a badass like he is in one of his movies. Can he not tell a story like a normal person? I swear, listening to this is painful...I would have left if it wasn't for the little darling.

“Thankfully, I managed to catch myself by finding me footing again. They taunted me the whole time, tearing out pages of me sketchbook, scatterin' them in the wind, laughing those stupid condescending laughter like a bunch o' hyenas. And the worst thing was that revolting, asinine, infuriating singsong crap they said. ''Connor is a coward, can't even fly, Connor is a coward, if he drops he'll go bye bye. Even a penguin could fly better than him, much to his chagrin.' How I hate hearin' that,even thinking about it now makes me blood boil!” I cannae help but clench me hands into fist and I notice me head-feathers twitch again.

“Who were these people that were bullying you?” The kid asked, looking a bit less tense now, but also distraught after hearin' what the group did ta me ol' sketchbook.

“It was Joe and his stupid group o' numb-skulls. That boy always thought he was sooo great, callin' himself a cowboy kid because his father owned an old revolver with nae a bullet that he had taken fer himself. He was popular due to bein' 'brave' and 'strong', pah! That idiot would've peed himself if he were in me situation at the time! An absolutely borderline brain dead idiot, if ye ask me!”

Me rival sighs, but seems a bit less hostile now. “Seems like we unfortunately have something in common then. Some people are just needlessly cruel, much like you.”

“Hate ye too, peck neck.” I glare back at him. “Anyway, I made it to the top and was about ready to rip these guys a new one at that point, so...me anger kinda got the better of me. I charged at them with a guttural roar of rage and...I heroically punched and kicked the guys as best I could, but I was only one wee lad.”

“...You got your ass kicked.” I growl at the penguin.

“Would ye shut yer trap if ye ain't got nothing nice ta say! I fought as best I could! But...aye...I got me tail feathers handed ta me.”

“You got beat up! Did they apologize?” The poor lassie innocent and sweet lassie...I can only hope that she won't turn inta a cynical adult once she learns how harsh this world can be.

“Nae...nae they didnae. It got worse lassie, way worse.”

Now we were getting ta the painful part, the reason why I was so afraid of heights. I can still recall it crystal clear, the hot sun as it beat down on me head, the slight breeze atop the canyon, the sharp and deadly rocks that would skewer me, break me bones and impale me...I can feel me heart race just thinking back on that image alone.

“Are you done with your elaborate and dramatic retelling? Are you finally getting to the part that explains why you freaked out in front of the little darling?” I solemnly nod, going quiet.

An once again I'm taken aback by how quiet and distressed my normally so confident and unfazed rival looks. For him to just quiet down from one second to the next, even his posture changed from annoyed at my comment and the question of my little star, to deeply upset within a few seconds. It was like the wind was taken out of his sails.

“.....I...They pulled me up by me backpack...pushin' me to the very edge of the canyon...Joe and his second in command pushed me till only the straps of me backpack were holding me as they held my backpack, making me nearly fall..I was danglin' trying ta move away, but I was leaning so far forward that all I could see was the precipice...and the s-sharp rocks a-at the bottom.” I could feel the fear return as I tried hard to not have the image burn inta me mind yet again. I feel something warm and it takes me a second to realize that it was the lassie that tries to comfort me.

“That...that's awful, darling. Did they pull you back?”

My question only made the yellow owl flinch, and for the first time today, or maybe ever, I felt guilty that I distressed the Conductor more. His feathers all lowered and he looked like he was going to start crying again. I really messed up now! As awful as that menace can be, even he doesn't deserve to be tortured like that.

I turn away abit, tryin' ta hide the tears that were forming in me eyes again. Be a tough lad, donnae show weakness! STOP BEING A WEE BABY, CONNOR! Just soldier through like always! “T-The straps...they snapped...I-I f-fell...All I could see were s-sharp r-rocks and... and they got b-b-bigger and b-bigger...I-I felt sharp pain e.everywhere. I t-thought that that was it, t-that I'd meet me maker.” I reach fer me left wing, feeling the sharp pain as I did it that day, even thought it wasn't injured..

“I...I'm sorry, Conductor...I had no idea it was that bad...I shouldn't have been so tactless...” It was nice ta here that flashy penguin apologize fer his mistakes fer once.

“I'm sorry that happened to you, Conductor. I shouldn't have asked you to climb up that walkway. I'm a bad person.” I jolt at the blatant drivel that the lassie said.

“Nae, ye ain't! It was me own pride that I couldnae jump o'er! If I had just told ye, I could have avoid all this...I'm sorry I scared ye, lassie.” I hug the young lass tight to me.

“Is that why you...why you can't fly, darling?” I could feel that he was trying to be sympathetic and likely was just curious.

“Aye...I fell ten meters down inta the sharp rocks...I must have passed out as the next thin' I recall was wakin' up in the hospital. The lads at least had enough common sense ta run to the hospital and tell them what had happened. The doctor told me that me left wing got fractured so bad that it wouldnae heal fully and it never did. I can lift it, but I cannae carry more than 20 pounds with it. It aches on some days, usually when the weather changes.” I sigh and cross me wings. “So, there ya have it, that's the reason fer me breakdown, that incident made me afraid o' heights. Every time I'm somewhere that is even remotely high, I feel uneasy. Even standin' on the roof of me beloved Owl Express is a challenge. Ye happy now, now ye know a weakness o' mine that ye can use against me, now ye can torture the livin' daylights outta me.” I expect to hear that boisterous annoying laughter that I had heard so many times when something unfortunate happened ta me. What I didn't expect was for him to lift his glasses briefly to rub his eyes.

“You really think me to be the cruelest and most despicable person on the whole moon and planet, don't you, Conductor?”

“Ye ain't?” I smirk and catch him scoff.

“Oh no, darling, that award goes to you for sure.” I growl and my rival glares at me. Feeling the tension, the young lassie sighs with exasperation.

“Can you two get along for a few minutes at least?” She pouted a little even crossing her arms.

Near simultaneously, two resounding “No!” can be heard.

[justaduckarts]

Beneath The Mask

Hey remember Lunar Phantom?

Me too! :D

Nothing sent chills through you like the way Moon played the piano. The way he struck the keys reminded you of a lion pouncing on a helpless gazelle. He was so furious and anguished.

When his song came to a close, he rested his hands in his lap. The red light over the keys vanished as his eyes shut. The fans within his mechanical body whirred at a fever pitch, cooling his innerworkings.

Turning to you, he smiled.

"You're shaking," he frowned.

"Am I?" You rubbed at your arms, attempting to soothe the goosebumps.

"Are you frightened?" His red eyes flickered.

"No," you shook your head, "it's not that at all. Your music it just..." How could you explain it?

"It makes me feel as though every fibre of my being has been charged." You shifted, setting your hands on the keys. "Like my soul is desperately trying to break free and join the song."

When you looked back at Moon, his eyes were glowing brighter than you'd ever seen. His fans' whirring persisted.

"No one... has ever said something so beautiful to me," he gently reached out, brushing his fingers over your cheek.

"Our shining star." Moon smiled.

Was it hot in here or was it just you? You smiled back at him, feeling a little flustered.

"I'm glad you think so. Honestly, I felt like it was kinda corny..."

"It was honest. And that's what made it beautiful." Moon gently tapped the tip of your nose. "As much as I delight in your company, I'm afraid you need to go."

"But I've only been here for a few minutes," you frowned, "do I have to?"

You missed the way his legs bounced. The subtle shift of his posture as he looked at you. You wanted to stay. You wanted to be there. Nothing could have made him happier.

"I'm afraid so. Fear not, my shining star. We'll see one another again soon." Moon rose from the bench, offering you his hand. When you took it, his smile seemed to stretch. A cool blue thumb ran over your knuckles.

Things seemed so lovely for that moment. The way the candelight danced across the piano. He looked down at you and you felt yourself rising to follow him without any prompting.

"Moon..." You said quietly. "Could I ask-

And that was when the lights turned on. Several things happened all at once. The brightness of the basement lights stung your eyes, forcing you to shut them. Moon shrieked, pulling the cloak around his shoulders over his head and shrinking in on himself. The sound of mechanical parts shifting and fans whirring hit your ears. Colorful spots filled your vision and you tried to blink them away.

"What on earth are you doing down here?" Carlos' voice cut through the confusion. Your sight finally cleared enough for you to spot him. He stood at the bottom of the steps, looking around at all the candles that were lit.

"...What is going on?" He crossed his arms, eyeing you with newfound suspicion.

"Uh. Well..." You looked around for Moon, anxious. He'd told you before his presence in the theatre was a secret. You didn't want to rat him out, for sure.

Slender yellow fingers settled on your shoulder. Sun's cheerful tenor filled the room.

"Carlos! How nice of you to drop in. Forgive us, we were doing a little practicing." Sun's fingers drummed your shoulder lightly as he pulled you a little closer. You glanced up at him, mystified.

Moon was nowhere to be seen.

"You were practicing. In the dark?"

"Trying to set the mood," Sun shrugged, "we're actors!"

"...Right," Carlos nodded, seeming unconvinced. "I came to have a look at that hand of yours."

"This one?" Sun took his hand off your shoulder, extending it to the technician with a smile. Every finger wiggled in succession, showing off the articulation of each joint.

"That's the one." Carlos reached for it. Sun's fingers twitched as the technician grasped his hand and turned it over. Frowning, Carlos examined the palm and wrist.

"...Has it glitched anymore?" He glanced up at the animatronic.

"No sir!" Sun's rays did a rotation around his face. "Not at all."

"Hmm... Alright." Carlos sighed. "I'll let it go. But you better tell me if it happens again. The theatre has a lot hinging on this play, we can't afford any screw ups."

"I understand. Have a goodnight!" Sun pulled his hand back, waving warmly.

"Mhm. Are you coming?" Carlos glanced at you. You hesitated, looking at Sun. The solar animatronic's head tilted curiously.

"Not yet," you looked back to Carlos. "I'm going to rehearse a bit more."

Carlos looked between the two of you. He hesitated a moment before nodding.

"Alright... Goodnight, you two." The stairs creaked as he made his way back up to the main floor of the theatre.

And then he was gone.

For a brief moment, the basement was silent. In the light, you could see the shelves and shelves of animatronic parts. Boxes of wires and bolts. Casings and heads of former mechanical actors lined up and covered in dust.

A shadow fell over you. Turning, you took in Sun's wide smile and blank eyes.

"...You're him, right?" You couldn't get your voice to go higher than a whisper. Sun's hands twitched.

"Who, darling? Be specific."

"Moon."

Sun's fans whirred louder. His rays retracted and extended. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then he laughed. The animatronic shook his head.

"For just a moment, I hoped..." Sun sighed. "I am not Moon, no. But..." Sun stared you down, smile vanishing.

"We are of the same body. One made for the day. One made for the night. You understand?"

"Like Jekyll and Hyde-

"We would prefer you didn't use that example," Sun's eyes narrowed, "but in essence... yes." He moved closer to you, invading your space.

"We were hoping to tell you when the time was right," Sun shook his head, "but no matter."

"...So he could see me on stage all that time because... he was right there." You looked away from Sun, brows knit. A tidal wave of emotions crashed around in your chest.

This was... hard to process at the very least. Watching you all that time. Sneaking into your dressing room. Possibly lying to you? Was it lying? You weren't sure.

"Well, yes... We were so moved by your voice."

Your eyes drifted over to the piano.

"Why isn't Moon allowed to perform anymore?" You looked back at Sun. "Why-

"Don't you think you've learned enough secrets for one night?" Sun turned and made his way back to the piano. You followed.

When you joined his side on the bench, a surge of excitement rushed through the two of them.

"Did the two of you write the song together?" You watched his fingers settle on the keys.

"Of course. We compose everything together." Sun hummed, glancing your way. "...Including the lyrics."

"Lyrics?" Your heart skipped. "There are words to this song?"

"There will be." Sun nodded, "and we want you to sing them."

"Me?"

"That's right, shining star." Sun tapped on a few keys, warming up. "We'll teach you the song, if you like."

There was a weight to the silence. You felt the urge to say 'yes', but you also recognized that there was something just... not quite right about the whole situation.

What exactly had gone on that Moon would be banished from the theatre, but never properly shut down like the other animatronics in the basement?

Why hadn't Sun and Moon told you the truth right away?

And why did it feel like saying yes to singing their song implied so much more than just singing?

Your head spun.

The silence went on a beat too long for Sun and Moon's taste.

"If you don't want to-

"I'll do it," you nodded, looking up at him. "I'll sing for you."

Sun's rays spun around his face at top speed. His eyes lit up.

"Oh, perfect! That's so so so perfect!" He clapped for a moment. "We just know your performance will shake the audience to their very souls." He turned a page in the small music book before spreading his fingers over the piano keys.

"Listen close, shining star..."

The roar of the piano filled the basement.

First Part - Previous Part - Next Part

[y2k-aesthetic]

I am the Queen

Call me the Princess

Give the the fucking crown! already

Spent all day

Gettin’ ready

With shoes made for ballet

As I dance around my house

And I pretend to be a mouse!

I’m a mouse, lol, welcome to my house!

My little hidey hole

I don’t know

I don’t even think so

dude

don’t chase me

don’t chase me

don’t chase me to the void in the basement

(yeah)

don’t chase me

don’t chase me

never chase me downnnnnn

ooooowoooooowoooooaaaoooooooo

Let’s get it poppin’

Wooooooooooooooooah

Just wanna dance

(bitch!)

Ooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

We’re gonna throw a party

We’re gonna throw a party

Right on up into space!

Cuz it’s an

It’s an abduction baby

Woooooooooaaaoooooaaaahh

And it’s a rape!

oops but yeah

oh yeah

You dare not speak its name

yeah

oh yeah

you give it power

yeah

oh yeah

you silly billy boys

Hit the green room and sit

the fuck

DOWN

it’s time to partay

owooooooaaaoooooh

you know I need attention!

ALL EYES ON ME GUYS

ONE TWO THREE

WE POPPIN IT

OH!

WE POPPIN IT

OH!

WE POPPIN IT

OOOOWOOOOAAAOOOOOOOAAAH

Because we dance

We dance we dance!

Because we dance

We dance we dance!

We’re gonna put on a show

wink wink wink wink yeah

I’m gonna put on a show

Let’s get the party started!

I’m gonna put on a show

a show!

a show!

I’m gonna put on a show

a little play

all my girls say hey, hey, hey!

we in the club

what what what

uh

we getting drunk

and you can talk to the hand

BITCH BITCH BITCH GO

AWAY

what what

You know I said

GO

AWAY

MOM

I love you but it is

Time for me

to spread my wings and fly

You know I can get by

I just wanna fly

I wanna fly away

Have a getaway

Down in the everglades!

And visit disney!

Ohwoah

And universal!

Owoah

And maybe even Bush Gardens

Ohwoahwoahwoah

And we’ll head down to Saint Petersburg by car

Then we’ll get down and toast down at the bar

We’ll tap our drinks

we’ll tap our drinks

drinks

drinks

Wash in the sink with ya hands

and fix your lip gloss

we’re gonna put on a show!

ohwoahwoahohohoh

And when I get down and dance

Please don’t look down at their pants!

Is that a banana?

Or are you happy to see me?

(Happy to see me!)

You know I like to get sleazy and get down

and get down

And I live down underground

The Underground!

I’ll be down at my mom’s house

He’ll get his cock out

And fuck me like

I’ve never

Been fucked before

I went and laid out a trail of roses

leading to my room

Ohwoahohohoooaah

And you can come any time

Ohwoahwoahwoah

And feel the dark undertoe

oh woah woah woooaaaaaaaaaoaoah

snatch me up

snatch me up

snatch me up boy!

[clap clap]

I’m in my childhood bedroom right now

Just typing a poem on my laptop

It’s just a backdrop

To my life

And you can come any time

Ohwoahwoahwoooaaaooh

And we’ll dance in my garage

Ohwoahwoahwoooaaaaoh

Give me a nice good massage

Ohwoahwoahwoooaaoooooooaoah

And when I’m in the girls’ room

ooooaaahahwooooaaaahhhooooohhhhoh

You can park out outside

Come in the front door!

If you think you wanna dance

Then you’re my hunter!

Snatch me up and drag me deep down under!

There’s a chasm in the earth

And you’ll lift up my skirt

But first

Feed yo kids

Get some rest daddy

I love you daddy

Kiss

Kiss

Kiss!

I know you won’t ever miss

You love my lifestyle!

So I went for a walk

and then the Karens

(then the Karens)

Well, they saw what I’m wearin’

And when they thought I could dance

ohwoahwoahwaooooahh

Then they saw their husbands’ pants!

And looked the door

I need a metaphor!

They called the cops

Called the cops!

On me

On me

Cuz I was shinin’ fancy free

Fancy free

I’m Fancy Free

And when they thought I was a hooker

Ohohohooooaaawoooaah

I’m such a looker

They called the cops and then they stopped by

Stopped by

They took a lol and said “K thx bai!”

Sorry to bother you miss

I mean like, can you even believe this?

They shut me down

Shut me down

In my own damn neighborhood!

East Hill Streetwalker

I don’t even play soccer

But these feet love to move!

Move

And I wear ballet shoes

When I walk down on the street

So I have time to think

Time to think

And then I don’t even blink

Even blink

They called the cops and shoooed me home

No really though!

Imprisoned in my tower once again

Once again, for goodness’ sakes!

I can just levitate

Levitate

I got my theme song

I’ll never be wrong

And I can dance anywhere, anytime

I just wanna grove and dance!

(in my underpants. tee hee!)

And I just wanna party

Just wanna party baby

Let’s throw it down

Make a sound

Make some noise

And maybe we’ll invite some boys

Invite some boys!

And we’ll sit in my garage

And we’ll drink some siroc!

A gin and tonic baby

And I’m not even crazy

You guys just don’t understand me

Stand me

And if you could hand me

hand me

The mike!

I wanna fight!

I wanna fight!

owoowooowaaaoooaaooooon

Start a fight at the show

And I’ll see it

And I’ll see it

I wanna be it!

Those toxic men can suck their own cocks

We’re sick of their shit

For goodness’ sake take a breath

A breather

Wooaaoohohohohoh

And hit the basement!

And the living room

And the dining room

Maybe even the sun porch

Ohohohohwoahoh

As you can see, my room has a horse

A horse

Actually several

They’re kinda metal

Boys like fast cars

Women love a horse!

Of course! Of course!

If you believe it

Well then you’ve just got to see it

And you can come and drop by

Any time!

(any time!)

See you in late july!

(late july!)

We’ll sit out on the porch

of course

woahohohohohoh

And have some coffee and cake

Woahohohohohoh

And watch a bitch levitate!

Woahohohohohoh

Come check out my outfit!

Check out my oufit!

Come see this skirt!

See, I’m an aesthete

I’m an aesthete

And I can’t be beat

at all

woahohohohohoh

And when I strut my stuff

It’ll never be enough

For the boys

To even wanna stop

Let’s do it baby!

Let’s do it ladies!

Let’s start the chain!

Let’s start the train!

WE ARE WITCHES!!!

(We’re not witches!)

We are not bitches

are not bitches!

See, we can be really sweet

So get me something to eat

Cuz I need a sweet treat

Woahohohohohoh

Take me out to eat

Get me a glass of wine

Thats sounds hella fine

And you can talk to me

Tell me your story, see if we vibe

See if we vibe

And then I met Mike!

And he felt just right!

I’m not alone anymore

Woahohohoh

The product of eternal girlrot

Woahohohohohoh

Down so deep beneath the earth

Beneath the earth!

The earth!

I stretch my roots down like a tree

Like a tree baby

And I read all I can see

That I can see baby!

I’m constantly reading

And not ever eating

And I think that’s okay!

Ohohohohwoahohoh

I eat like a bird

But that’s okay

That’s okay

I’m gonna be nourished

And hydrated

And I think that my phone just vibrated

Maybe it’s my guy

Take me to the sky!

And I just have a great message you guys

I AM THE EARTH

THE SEA

I’M ME

I’M ME MYSELF

COME ASK FOR HELP!

I’M HERE TO HELP ALL THE FOLX

AND FIX PROBLEMS!

AND I GATHERED UP KNOWLEDGE

IN THE LIBRARY

AND IN MY PHONE

LIBGEN.IS

SHOUT OUT

SHOUT OUT

AND THEN ZLIBRARY

IF YOU GUYS WANNA VIBE WITH ME

THEN COME GET ME TONIGHT!!

AND COME ABDUCT ME!

Abduct Persephone

Persephone

Then you will see

You will see

You will see

Got such boss bitch energy

Ohwoahwoahwoahohoh

I came from the basement

ohwoahwoahwoahohoh

I got a corset with a lacement

Oh woahwoahwoahwoahwoah

I got a snatched waist

And a cute face

And long lean legs

And a tight little butt

And a cosmic space pussy!

Trained in neuroenticement

Neuroenticement

See, I’ll do it just right bitch

just right bitch

This is my anthem

Ohwoahwoahwoahohoh

My manifesto

It’s got some zest tho!

So hear me out

Widen the streets!

I got bad bitch energy

Dark femininity

And I just came her to sing

Came here to sing

I can’t hear my phone ring lol

Phone ring lol

And I look like a fuckdoll!

Lmao!

And I don’t even know how

I achieved it

Beauty. Grace. All up in you face!

In yo face

Face

Face

And you see, I’m wearing lace

Lace

Lace

Lace

I’ll make them dudes levitate

So don’t even hesitate

You got my socials baby

So call me maybe

We gonna get

The night

The party

The vibe

STARTYED STARTED!

COME ON LET’S GET IT STARTED!

My bro made Cleanly Joes

And I’m ready to go!

I got one thing on my mind

Ohwoahwoahwoahohoh

I am Odette and Odile

A Disney Princess

Princess!

Ohwoahwoahohohoh

Yeah, see, I’m Daddy’s little princess

Princess

And I’m his princess now

And you all know how!

And he can come anytime ;)

And because we vibe

And he loves me

You see, he is the guy that gets to fuck me

He won!

Woahohohohohoh

Y’all should be more like lhim

Like him!

And it’s sink or swim

I’M GONNA SAVE THE WORLD TONIGHT

woahohohohohoh

I’m gonna put a show

Ohohohohohoh

And I got a whole ass shpeil

Gonna turn the wheel

We gonna stop time

Stop time

STOP TIME!

And we’re ready go in 3 2 1, Live!

And now we;’re live

And I’ll wear a disguise!

Raise the curtain baby

Cuz

We

Are

Live!!!

And I got such energy

Energy

So what’s it like to be me, to be me?

Well, it’s a hell of a road

And rocky

But they’re never gonna fucking stop me

I clawed my way

My way

Out of the dirt

And often it hurt,

Ohwoahwoahwoahwoahwoah

But I like the pain wink wink

And as I start the chain

And I dig right in

And go for a swim

So hit the highway!

Hit the highway!

Unless you do it my way

MY WAY!

And I got such energy

energy

hang on, gotta use the bathroom lol

and put on a shawl!

I’m bedecked in finery

They all wanna cry with me

I’ll make you smile

Make you smile

Just for a while

For a little while

You can be happy

And content

And you can truly be free

COME FREE YOSELVES!

Humanity

And I got such energy

I LOVE YOU ALL!

I’m not a sponge for hate

and your anger

And it often turned out I was in danger

Of being bit

By a snake

By a sneaky snake!

Cuz he’s a snake in the grass

And he saw me

And he wanted my ass!

He coveted me as his own, you see.

Aredthel and Eol

But it then got old

And so I done up and left, and has his baby!

But baby don’t worry, it’s all gravy!

All gravy baby!

It’s wavy!

I know who I am

And what I’m about

I am my only friend

And my only foe

And I know how to love myself tonight

And my soul and my body feel just right

Come get me

And take me home to the umderworld

I’ll reign as your queen

And we’ll live unseen

Beneath the ground, where shadows abound

And we’ll dance to the silent sound.

Please daddy snatch me

Know you can catch me

With your big strong arms

In your bougie white car

Gonna make me a star

Make me a star

AND RAPE ME

DESECRATE MY IN MY BED AND

PLUCK THAT FLOWER RIGHT OUT OF MY BODY

AND DADDY, YOU KNOW THAT I’VE BEEN VERY NAUGHTY

I’M A SPOILED BRAT, YOU SEE

GOT THAT BAD BITCH ENERGY

DADDY KNOWS WHAT TO DO

HE WILL CARRY ME TO MY ROOM

TO MY ROOM

IN THE BASEMENT

THE UNDERWORLD

YOU KNOW WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN GIRLS!

SO K THX BYE!

KAY THX BYE!

FOR JUST A WHILE, TTYL!

I’M NOT LONGER IN HELL

TAKE MY HAND BECAUSE

I’LL DRAG YOU OUT OF HELL

FOREVER

CUZ I LOVE YOU

I LOVE HUMANITY

THE EARTH

AND SPACE!

SO TAKE MY HAND AND I PROMISE

YOU’LL UNDERTAND

WHAT I’M ABOUT

AND I JUST WANNA SHOUT

I AM

THE AVATAR

THE AVATARA

KALKETTE

A SAUCY COQUETTE

IN MY SCHOOLGIRL SKIRT

PLATINUM BLONDE

I’M GONNA ROCK THE WORLD TONIGHT

AND I WILL SAVE YOU ALL

I’LL SAVE HUMANITY

AND I WILL SAVE THE EARTH ONCE MORE FOREVER!!!

GOT THAT BAD BITCH ENERGY!

I’M THE DIVINE FEMININE

I JUST WANNA SHOW YA

I AM EMILIE ANNE

AND I AM KORE

KHTHONIA

THE MAIDEN OF THE UNDERWORLD

AND I ASCENDED TO EARTH

TO START THE SHOW!

[loressa]

Composition in Sunlight

----

I breathe in deeply and rest my arms on the window sill, slowly exhaling the smoke in wispy tendrils; it disperses on the wind, spiraling off into the distance. From my window I can see the mountains lighten toward the ocean, the dichotomy of light and shadows shifting until they melt back into the dark. 

Close to me are the tall thin cypruses with a rich golden backlight. Narrow and gaunt, they move softly in the morning breeze like some shimmering jazz singer swaying to the minor chords of a junk piano, with tarnished brass trumpet notes hanging dimly around her lidded eyes, lingering in the hollows of her curls. Dawn clings to the branches, light dripping close through the leaves, and I watch the music, the players, the cigarette smoke undulating in time with the beats of the drummer and hips swaying and my heart melting slow, languid to catch it as the cars coast slowly past in the dawn. A gust shakes the trees – a group enters the club with a laugh and a slam of the heavy door, their feet clinking on the tinny basement stairs – and a lonely leaf drifts down like a descending melody swathed in the clarion keen of a clarinet. 

And now the sun has risen and the drummer rolls his wrists and the cars speed up, people shouting to be heard over them in the parking lot underneath my room. The palm trees bend toward each other and the couples spin past each other on the worn wood floor in front of the stage. The bass plucker and the man with the gravelly voice start to banter lyrics and now the day has fully broken, a smooth tenor soaring above the street outside my window. With a thud, a car door slams shut, signaling a shift to a pounding, plunking beat of bass and drum and dance intertwined; and, bright above it all, the vocals wheel. 

Noon, now, and you can’t help but nod your head in time, start to tap your foot, sway in your seat, hands shaking, feet stomping, hoots and whistles and only the hottest couples left dancing, the music blistering, throats screaming trumpet wails of appreciation, cymbal shrieks, and then the silence before eve and only the ragged breath of exhaustion as they sink back into the shadowy audience. The street holds its breath as the sun hangs bloody crimson and brass. 

The singer returns, the strings of the bass bump dolefully along as she ascends to the stage, the piano’s plucks slow, soft, and then the brass begins to whisper. The audience lights another cigarette and in their first exhale she murmurs lyrics, streaks of cloud and dripping light. They order a drink, and the waitress slinks off, her skirt swishing above her knees, and they take another drag on the cigarette, the slow detached high pulling them toward the music; her voice starts to climb the scale, the music shifts to major, and, the cigarette gone, where did this song come from, only hints of the original mournful sighs, a screaming howl of glorious jazz, and then it ends, fades away softly back into night. 

The mountains sink back into dark, the trees sleep, shaken half-awake gently by the headlights of cars drifting lonely at midnight; only the singer is left, and the cigarette smoke, and the empty wail of a solitary trumpet. 

[pushing-up-junipers]

Sayings & Slang of the Setting

Exactly what it says on the tin! Trying to find and keep collections of slang from the 1950s and also from Kansas. Also maybe the 20s-40s when i edit this later. ‘Cause that’s probably still being used by people, even if it’s not ~fresh.~ ‘Specially the older characters, moreso than the recent phrases. You know. Anyway here’s what I could find condensed into one biiiiig list so I can reference it easily when writing dialogue

1950s

Agitate the Gravel: To leave in a hurry. To run the fuck away, as it were.

Apple Butter: Smooth Talk & Flattery

Backseat Bingo: Car fuckin. unspeakable acts in backseats.

Bundie: Guy that needs a haircut

Classy Chassis: Attractive Body. usually female

Come on, snake! Let’s rattle!: Contextual. You’re either asking to dance or “dance” (as in Fight)

Cut the gas!: Be quiet!

Earth Pads: Shoes

Fuzzy Duck: Girl with especially short hair

Gringles: Worries

Lay dead: Wait a minute

Negative Perspiration: Easy

Panic and a Half: A funny joke

Put an egg in your shoe and beat it!: Fuck Off.

Razz my berries!: Impress me

That Razzes my berries: It’s exciting

Got the zorros: Feeling nervous

Bash ears: To talk too much

Bird dog: Someone that tries to steal girlfriends

Circled: Married

Papershaker: Cheerleader

Supermurgitroid: Cool, “With it.”

Cheaters, Peepers: spectacles

Horn: Telephone

Shiner: A black eye

Goose it: Accelerate a vehichle

Radioactive: Current trend. Popular and stylish. IN.

Real gone: Head over heels in love, or just unstable.

Made in the shade: An easy life - to be in a good situation.

That’s the living end!: Superlative. It’s very. The most extreme form of something. Used as an exclamation of pleasant shock or joy.

Everything’s Copacetic: Chillll. Under Control.

Are you writing a book?: You’re asking too many questions

Royal shaft: Poor or unfair treatment

What’s your tale, nightingale?: What’s up? What’s the story?

Blanket: sandwich : )

Chrome Plated: All dressed up and Snazzy!! Got the Sweetest Threads on

Fat City: A Great Place to Be

Have a cow: To get overly worked up

Kansas Specific

Caddy Corner: Kinda diagonally across the way

Ope: like oops

The Concrete: Some kind of custard based icecream

Yums: Treats

Sodbuster: Someone who breaks up the “sod” (farm soil) in order to plant crops, eliminating most of the weeds before they can become a problem in the process. Difficult, but worth it in the long run.

Cornhole: A family game involving the throwing of beanbags into a hole and not hitting the other beanbags I believe?

Reddit post about just common ways of phrasing things in general

Calling everything A Deal

Yeah, no & No, yeah

Caddywhumpus: Chaotic, disorderly, WAY off balance

it wouldn’t be bad if it wasn’t so windy...........

Good People: The highest of compliments...

Dollars to donuts!: To express that you’re DAMN sure of something. Swear to god

Saying ‘cut’ instead of turn or switch, like cut that off

A draw: Beer from the tap

Carbonated drinks are called pop - which is just as well bc it’s what we call it here too

Bit under the house is consistently called the Cellar, rather than basement or whatever

1940s

Anchor Clanker: Sailor

Dead Hoofer: A bad dancer

Dish: An attractive person

Doll Dizzy: Crazy about girls

Drip: Someone boring

Ducky Shincracker: A really good dancer

Fat head: An insulting term for someone you think is an idiot

Glitterati: Famous, wealthy people with a high profile

Jive Bomber: A regular good dancer

Khaki Wacky: Crazy about boys

Yuck: Another idiot

Jitterbug: Fast dancing to modern music

Killer Diller: The best! Amazing!

Natch: Of course. Certainly.

On the Beam: On the right track or course. Cool.

Take a Powder: To leave

What’s buzzin’ cousin?: How’s it going?

Bupkis: Nothing. When you receive fuck all for your efforts.

Crib Notes: A cheat sheet for a test, trying to get a good grade

Hairy: Outdated

Peanuts: A small, insufficient amount. Usually refers to money.

Snap your cap: Get angry

Whistling Dixie: Wasting your time

Armored Heifer: Canned milk

Hen Fruit: Eggs

Schnook: Gullible. A sucker.

Active Duty: A promiscuous male

Floy-floy: Nonsense

Gammin’: Showing off

Going fishing: Trying to get a date

Hey sugar, are you rationed?: Do you have a steady boyfriend?

Motorized Freckles: Insects

Mud: Coffee

Reet: Very

Share crop: A promiscuous female

Strictly from Dixie: Laaaaaaame

Admiral’s Watch: A good night’s sleep

Amscray: Get out, leave

Armchair General: Someone who gives his confident opinion on everything despite being totally uninformed

Barney: A fixed contest

Bilge: Bullshit

Blivet: Something unimportant

Boodling: Makin out

Buy the farm: To die

Chiseler: A petty swindler or cheat

Cloud Walker: A good dancer

Cold fish: An unresponsive person

Crab patch: A strict person

Cutting out paper dolls: Crazy, insane

Drive it in the hanger: Shut up

Earbanger: Kissup

Educated fox: A fast boy

General’s car: A wheelbarrow

Gladlad: A nice looking guy

Gooball: Girl who necks with everyone

Gripes my cookies: It irritates and disgusts me

Gripes my middle kidney: To give pain or irritate

Katzenjammers: The shakes after a day of heavy drinking

Lammister: A fugitive

O lord and butter!: An exclamation

Patsy: A scapegoat

Pennies from Heaven: Easy money

See the chaplain: Shut up, don’t tell me your troubles

Well cut off my leg and call me shorty: You’re kidding.

1930s

Abyssinia: Said fast it sounds like “I’ll be seein’ ya!”

Bumping Gums: Making conversation of little substance

Dog soup: A glass of water

Convincer/Gat/Heater/Rod: Gun

Butter and egg: An attractive woman

Cute as a bug’s ear: That’s very cute

Fel/Filly/Flame/Flirt/Fuss: When a guy has consistent girl companion, I guess just a girl he hangs out with too much, people might call her these things to him

Greaseball/Half portion/Wet sock/Jellybean: An unpopular person

Honey cooler: A kiss

Lunger: A person with tuberculosis

Make tracks/Dangle: To leave abruptly and/or in a hurry

Micky/Micky Finn: A drink spiked with knockout drugs. So a roofie basically.

Stool pigeon: A snitch

All six, hit on: To hit on all six cylinders. 100% performance

All wet: Describes how erroneous a person or idea is. It’s all wet.

And howl!: An emphatic response like you said it!

Baby Vamp/Angel/Thrill/Peach/Choice Bit of Calico/Sweet Patootie: An attractive woman. These terms are the realm of college boys.

Bank’s Closed: NO KISSING.

Bearcat: A hot blooded or firey girl

Bug-eyed Betty/Pig’s Coattail: Ways to insult girls for being unnattractive or unpopular. Used by college boys

Bunny: A term of sympathy for someone that seems lost and confused

Butterfly’s Boots: Great or Dreamy. Like the cat’s meow

Carry a torch/Stuck on: To have a crush on someone

Cast a Kitten: To have a fit

Dumb Dora: A way to call a woman Stupid

Fire Extinguisher: A chaperone

to Know One’s Onions: To know what you’re talking about

[myalgicpierrot]

Plain text: They run away from moose like girls. they think a sheet of glass is adequate protection from being shot in the face by gang bangers and their recipes include fresh urine. What the hell is up with New Jersey's finest punk metallers? roars: Cardinal Doran. Snapping fingers: Brother Naki. "The Spanish Inquisition: You ask, they squirm" My Chemical Romance.

Why are you guys soooooo cool?? - Thomas, via email

Gerard: "We can answer this question. (Massive pause.) Er, shit. Let me answer this with a question, "Why is Brody Dalle from The Distillers so hot?" (Another massive pause.) I guess we're cool because we're just like Thomas. Unless he's a serial killer or something. We're just the kids who didn't fit in at school and that's how we found each other. We were always on the outside looking in and it depends on whether you think that's cool or not." Hammer: Off stage though and outside of music, who is the coolest, the most goddamn suave when chatting to the ladies? All bar Mikey in unison: "Mikey." Hammer: Is it your uncanny Jarvis Cocker impersonation? Mikey: "Yeah dude, it gets them every time. No it's Bob; the ladies are suckers for his beard." Hammer: They suck his beard? He must have some good lines.

Gerard, have you any plans to do any more artwork for future albums and how much would it cost to get you to play in my front room? - Name taken, via Hammer message board

Gerard: "Yes and 20 bucks." Hammer: I suppose there may be people who don't know that you do all the artwork. Gerard: "I did the art for both of the records. The first one - '1 Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love' - because I didn't want photographic artwork, so we got the picture, photocopied it, put some Ajax on it and put some cellophane on that. It's not actually a digital image like most people think. Then the second album - 'Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge was all done in watercolours and paint. And, yes, I want to do all of our album covers. I don't get chance to do half as much artwork as I'd like." Hammer: Talking of front rooms, what's the smallest gig you've ever played since you've been releasing records? Ray: "We played a basement in Philly in front of five people, a major record label rep and a homeless person." Frank: "The homeless guy had a tape recorder tied on a string round his neck; he bootlegged the gig and then tried to sell it back to us afterwards. It was very enterprising of him."

Have you ever thought of doing a cover? - The Drifter, via Hammer message board

Gerard: "Well we did. We played 'Jack The Ripper', a Morrissey b-side, at the same time the first record was out because we just didn't have enough songs. We did that for years cos we only had five songs and our sets would have been over too quickly." Hammer: We tend to hate it when bands do either exact copies of songs or when they do really obvious songs; what rules do you think apply to cover versions? Ray: "The band you cover have got to be over and done with or at least on their 10th album or whatever." Frank: "Yeah, so like it doesn't matter if it's Aerosmith - not that you should try to do an Aerosmith cover anyway - but how are you going to improve that?" Mikey: "Johnny And Mary' by Placebo (originally by now deceased suave ladies man, Robert Palmer - OAP Ed) is an interesting cover." Ray: "Just don't do anything obvious. Not covering a hit should be another rule. Placebo also covered 'Where Is My Mind' by The Pixies (American rock heroes that influenced Nirvana) and you can't do that. How many bands do that song? Too many."

Gerard, how do you feel about the comment that you look like Drew Barrymore in ET? - Ant, Birmingham

Gerard: "Where does this come from?" Hammer: I think it was originally from a Hammer live review ages ago. Gerard: "I always get compared to some Hollywood starlet or other. Especially Christina Ricci." Hammer: I'm never going to be able to watch the bit where she does that really sexy tap dance, wearing that amazingly short skirt in Buffalo 66 ever again.

What do you feel about the claim that you are goths? - Ali, from Reading

Gerard (who is dressed entirely in black, has long black hair and loads of make up on to appear like he has the three day dead eyes of a ghoul): "It doesn't really bother us. I think it comes from our song 'Vampires Will Never Hurt You'. I mean, I always dress in black; the whole of the band always dress in black but that isn't really goth to me. Bauhaus were goth; the Sisters of Mercy are goth. I think it has more to do with the sound of the music and our sound is more punk rock. All that goth music is good stuff though; I just don't think we sound like that."

Why not play a show in Iceland? It's not a bad idea. - Icelandic name, Iceland

Gerard: "I would love to." Frank: "I've heard it's fucking beautiful." Gerard: "We're always up for doing stuff like that in different countries and what I always say is 'If you can find a promoter who is willing to bring us over then we'll do it."

Hey guys, sorry to ask the obvious but what happened to Matt (the band's dour and slightly older ex-drummer)? - Alexandra Rose, via Hammer message board

Gerard: "We'd rather not talk about this because we're not a shit-talking band." Frank: "It's just not anyone's business. We don't feel we need to talk about stuff like this." Hammer: Well, I'll turn the question around: Can you tell us about the background of your new member Bob, who's replaced him? (The entire band turn round to Bob, who is dozing in the corner with his hoody pulled up, and laugh.) All: "Bob, what's your background!" Bob (groggily): "I started playing drums when I was three and then after school, I worked my way into the music business, working in music stores and record shops. I started doing drum tech stuff and I always ended up hanging around with My Chemical Romance whenever I worked with them.”

(splash quote) "I just rolled the window up. I couldn't think of anything else to do. 'Phew. I'm safe from the .375 gun now that I've rolled the fucking window up.’”

What are MCR's favourite sandwich fillings? - Your biggest fan, Northern Ireland

Rae: "Turkey and Gruyere." Frank: "Eggplant (Aubergine – American Ed) and parmesan." Mikey: "Grilled cheese and tomato." Hammer: Ah, poor man's pizza. Bob: "Tuna mayonnaise." Hammer: While we're on the subject, who is the best cook in the band? Ray: "Well, I know that Bob can actually cook. Bob, how do you cook them steaks?" Bob: "I get some steak and some vinegar and some other shit. I could tell you but I'd have to kill you. Shit, I don't know, I can cook really good if I've got a book in front of me." Gerard: "Next time I'm over I'm going to cook all of Metal Hammer's readers a chick pea curry, It tastes really good." Frank: "If you are making a chicken Caesar salad you should put powdered onions into the dressing and it tastes really nice. Hammer: Onions? In powder form? Really? What kind of insanity is that? Frank: "You guys don't have powdered onions? You are so BC. Hammer: Goddamnit. You can't speak to a member of Her Majesty's Metal Press like that. But let me know where we can get this shit, we're thinking of launching a sister title Metal And Modern Cookery Hammer All: "Awesome!

To the guy with the big hair (Ray), do you actually Iron Maiden or are you just being cool? - Insane Angel, via Hammer message board Ray:… Gerard: "Woah!" Bob: "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ray:… (starts shaking) Frank: "Oh my God!" Ray:… (smoke starts pouring from his ears) Mikey: "What a fucking question" Ray (with barely controlled anger, through gritted teeth): "No. I hate them. They're fucking shit. That's a fucked up question you shit head!" Gerard: "To be fair it's a valid question. You do see a lot of young chicks wearing Maiden t-shirts who are just doing it because it is a fashion thing to do." Hammer: So we can safely assume you are all Maiden fans? All: "Dude! Of course!" Hammer: In that case can you all give me a surprising Bruce Dickinson fact? Mikey: "He was an Olympic fencer." Ray: "He wrote books on how to get on in the music biz." Gerard: "He is a trained pilot dude!" Frank: "Do you know how in the 70s Bowie started thinking he was Ziggy Stardust? Well, I think Bruce Dickinson is the same with Lord Iffy Boot Race (Main character from Dicko's comedy novels)."

How do you feel about the criticism you receive from the metal community? - Chris, via email

Gerard: "I'm not sure what he's talking about. If he means about the people who remember us from being in a hardcore band who call us faggots on the internet then we're not really bothered. We get called faggots a lot but, you know, so what? Generally we tend not to read about ourselves. Live reviews are handy because you can learn stuff from them but generally not."

(splash quote) "There were five people and a homeless guy at the gig. The homeless guy bootlegged the gig and tried to sell it to us afterwards." (close-up photo captioned "Gerard knows the Way. To wear makeup.")

Do you consider yourselves a metal band? - Grace, London Gerard: "Metal is a big influence. If you think about the power, the screaming, the guitars etc then it is quite metal but it sounds like punk to me." Mikey: "We're also metal in the sense that we've a lot of metal on our instruments and I have quite a lot on my belt buckle as well." Gerard: "If we're metal then we're very traditionally metal. Iron Maiden are an influence as are Helloween, don't ever forget Helloween!" Hammer: In that case, is your song 'Thank You For The Venom' an ABBA style tribute to the large haired black metal poodle rockers from Newcastle, England? Gerard: "Eh?" Hammer: It doesn't matter. Gerard: "That song is a sarcastic statement, a bit like saying 'Thanks for ruining my life'. It was something I had written on my t-shirt the first ever gig we played."

What would you do if you ever encountered a moose? Would you run like a girl or stand and face it like a man? - Goldfinger, via Hammer message board Frank: "Has Goldfinger ever seen any mooses?" Mikey: "That isn't the plural of moose. It's moosi." Gerard: "Fuck off, it's meese." Frank: "Has Goldfinger ever seen a flock of meese advancing on him? It's a terrifying sight. They aren't small creatures. You would just run off like a girl or a boy. What does running like a girl mean anyway?" Mikey: "I've seen one. I'd run like a girl for sure. They're massive. If you run over one you're fucked. They come in through your windscreen kicking." Bob: "People think that moose are really gentle and goofy but they aren't; they're fucking animals." Hammer: What is the most exotic piece of wildlife you've ever encountered on tour? Gerard: "I saw some grizzly bears in Canada." Ray: "I saw a coyote." Bob: "Ray saw this girl in Chicago. She was fucking exotic." Ray: "Oh shit. She pelted me with chicken-flavoured crackers. Do you remember the homeless lady as well? She was this really old lady with this faint voice that I found when I was getting on the tour bus one night. She said, 'Can I sleep here tonight?' and I was like, 'No way lady, get the hell off the bus.' And then I realised that she had wrenched the window off the side of the bus to get in." Hammer: You have more stories about homeless people than any other band that we've met. Gerard: "That's because they are our core audience." Mikey: "We're very attractive to them because we dress like homeless people." Hammer: I saw a moose once. It was bearing down on me with a semi-on and a heart full of hatred. Gerard: "You're making this up aren't you?" Hammer: Er, yes.

Do you like the French? - Paul, Kingston Upon Thames Gerard: "Oh. That is such a loaded question." Frank: "Well, I'm going to say no because when we've toured there they've never been anything but mean to us." Hammer: Well, you're in good company. I know Andrew Eldritch, from the Sisters Of Mercy, said if he had one wish he would make France sink into the sea except for all of the pretty girls aged between 18 and 26, who he would levitate to safety." All, cracking up: "Awesome!" Hammer: Yeah, they are an easy target. Wasn't it Donald Rumsfeld who said that going to war in Iraq without the French was like going hunting without an accordion? Frank: "Brilliant."

Can you clear this up for us once and for all; which one of the Village People was actually gay? - Iron Monkey, via Hammer message board Gerard (without pause): "The Construction Worker."

You guys rule live. What British band would you like to play with in the future? - Hollow Man, via Hammer message board Frank: "Muse." Mikey: "Muse." Ray: "Funeral For A Friend." Gerard: "Yeah, Funeral For A Friend again."

Have any of you ever been shot and/or stabbed? - Andy, Bristol Ray: "We nearly got shot recently. We were stuck in a traffic jam and our manager got into this argument with these Puerto Rican guys and told them to go fuck themselves. They pulled up next to us and got a gun out. Our manager was trying to grab the gun. I thought we were fucked for sure." Bob: "I just rolled the window up. I couldn't think of anything else to do. 'Phew. I'm safe from the .375 gun now that I've rolled the fucking window up.'" Hammer: Were you scared? Bob: "Nah, I'm full of piss and vinegar." Hammer: Ah ha! So that's what's in your secret steak marinade! Bob: "Shit yeah! I piss on my steak. Now I'm gonna have to kill you."

Rock journalists suck big dogs' cocks. And they smell. Really bad. Like burning ammonia. Take over by asking the questions that matter to you. See www.metalhammer.co.uk/spanish for who the Inquisition are gonna be quizzing in the coming months and how to ask your questions. Arriverderch.

MCR for Metal Hammer, Issue 133, December 2004 🩸 #Revenge20

📸 via Naki

[wickedfaddist]

✥ .: 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐨: 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 - 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 :. ✥

“For what has been done cannot be undone in the evil’s heart, in the evil’s soul.”

The taxi smelled of burnt coffee and old cigarettes, but it was the only option at this time. She could’ve asked Levi to come get her, but no one knew about him, nor did they know she was currently on a warpath. Expelling a soft sigh as the taxi came to a halt in front of the wore down building that she knew so well, examining the details she had grown up on as a little girl. It was still the same building that her father would bring her to for their lesson, those were simpler times as she pressed the door open and swung her limb out, she could almost imagine herself and her father goofing off. In a much happier time of her life, where she was not the girl whose father was killed in front of her or the girl that needed to be always perfect; she was just Jayden. A muted sigh elicited from her lips as her feet danced with the concrete, the wooden frame suddenly opening to a familiar face of a man that annoyed her more than her Cataleya, but he was one of the few people that understood her and didn’t judge. Levi stood before her with a wide grin, he wrapped his arms around her to pull her until a warm embrace. “We are on hugging terms now?” Slowly pulling away, shaking my head.

“I’m trying to be nice because this is your call, Princess.” Levi spoke as he chuckled, Jayden shook her head slightly as the pair made their way into the large building, Levi slammed the door behind him as his gleeful mien shifted into one that would send chills down anyone’s back. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Jayden?” He questioned; she nodded her head a few times. “Levi, I need to answer, and he will just have to be the first one on my list. Have you made the arrangements?” The question rolled off her tongue, as her heels kissed the wooden surface with each step that she took. “Yes, Princess. He’s waiting for you in the basement. I still think I should handle him. Because this will mess you up in the long run. I don’t need his anger to hurt you.”

Jayden halted in her tracks, spinning slightly on the balls of her feet and her head tilted slightly so that she could catch a glimpse of Levi’s face; a coy grin curled onto her lips. “I will be fine and if it does affect me, you will be the first person that I tell. Picky promise so until then, let’s cut this conversation short…I have business to tend to.”

Those were the last words that she spoke before making her way into the dark room, a wicked smile was on her lips as she shifted her head and yanked the wool bag from the man’s head. Vienna’s hands started a slow clap which grew louder, the sound caused his eyes to flutter open. Her eyelids blinked a few times as her vision finally was clear, and her hues narrowed into slits. Jayden swiftly yanked the tape from his mouth. “Jayden Rivera, I should’ve known.” A fake gasp emitted from Jayden’s mouth as she placed her palm against her chest. “I didn’t think you would notice me with this blonde wig on, I guess I thought wrong.” Jayden laughed softly, she shook her head as her digits dug into the wig to slide it off her head and her dark tresses cascaded down her back. Her slender digits ran through her locks. “Ah, much better.”

“What the fuck do you want? Untie me now!” Edgar spoke in a stern tone, Jayden’s index finger wiggling slightly. “Edgar Perez, the powerless brother. The forgettable brother that no one wants, the one with no money or stake in the family business. Poor thing.” Edgar’s laughter caused a fit of anger to flood through Jayden’s core, her heel tapped against the ground to soothe her anger. “Ricardo will have your head on a silver platter and your mom’s heart in his hand. You don’t want those problems so don’t be a dumb bitch and untie me. Let me go and all will be forgiven.” The words that Edgar emitted held no weight. Jayden was aware of who his family was and the power they held in New York, but she wasn't stupid. His family, especially his father wanted him dead. Jayden was just speeding up the process. She lowered her frame forward, her breath fanning against his face. “Edgar is pathetic that you would assume that I didn’t do my research on you beforehand. I am almost offended that you think so little of me.” As the words left her lips, she felt Edgar’s saliva on her cheek which caused her arm to extend outward and slender digits to wrap around his neck. “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners? You are going to regret ever crossing me in the first place. Don’t worry this time no one will come to save you, not even Daddy dearest.” A devilish grin slipped onto her lips as she gripped around Edgar’s neck tighter.

One thing that Jayden had always thought was funny, was people—especially thought she was a weak naive girl, but she was the opposite and tonight would be the first step to reminding them who the Rivera’s were. Her mother may have forgotten but Jayden never did.