#this one also ended up being way more instrumental heavy

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

What if...they met in college? (1)

Instead of being forced into espionage, Kat and Nat grew up in society like normal kids. But fate always forces them together. As roommates in college this time. One popular girl and one nerdy girl.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 4.7k • Warnings: none • A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY @nataliasquote !!! This one is for you. The college AU you are so obsessed with. More parts to follow :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

The hallways of the campus' dormitories were chaos. Bags, suitcases, instruments, and people, lots of people, blocked Katya's way as she tried to navigate her way to room 415. They bumped into her left and right, and screamed things in her ear as she parkoured over their stuff, yanking on the handle of her suitcase aggressively whenever it got stuck. 

Move-in day was busy, really busy. She meant to avoid rush hour by arriving early, but she'd gotten stuck in traffic. For two hours. Now her roommate had gotten to their room before she did and undoubtedly claimed the good side, probably leaving her with very little space and very possibly decorating the floor with the world's ugliest rug. 

Katya stopped halfway down the hall to catch her breath, dropping her heavy sports bag to the floor to give her poor, aching shoulder a break. With the back of her hand, she pushed her glasses up her nose and brushed some hair from her forehead. It would have been great to have some help. At the end of the hall, a girl had a whole team to help her move in. Parents, sister or friend, boyfriend or brother. But Katya didn't have anyone, so she had to take three roundtrips to the parking lot by herself.

With a sigh, she hoisted the bag up again and watched the room numbers climb the further she walked down the hall. The girls in room 410 had their door open, a song from fifteen years ago blasting from a portable speaker on their desks. They must know each other, because both their sides of the room were in coordinating colors. One of them caught Katya's nosy eye and gave her an awkward smile.

411, 412, 413, 414…

The door to room 415 was open. Katya stopped and took one last, deep breath before stepping into the doorway. 

She was right. Her roommate had already decorated her part of the room. Her eye immediately fell on the large rug between the beds. A fluffy, really soft looking beige one that looked very tempting for a nap. It suited the rest of the surprisingly calm decorations. 

White bed sheets with various neutral colored pillows on top, the subtle black and white prints on the wall, the beige colored plant pots, the fairylights that emitted a soft yellow glow, and the beige curtains that Katya also wasn't mad about. The only thing that held some color were the pictures on the corkboard above her headboard.

Whoever this girl was, she had good taste.

Katya dumped her suitcase by the unoccupied bed and threw her duffel bag on top, careful to avoid the rug with her shoes. The knot in her stomach unraveled a little bit. Maybe her worries about her roommate had been invalid. She had definitely been overthinking too much. It even smelled nice in here, like her roommate had lit a vanilla scented candle.

''Oh, you're here!'' A cheerful voice came from behind Katya. ''I went to pick up two muffins from downstairs because I was hungry and I figured you would be too.'' 

Katya turned around… and was met with the most stunning woman she'd ever seen in her entire life. 

The same height as her, lean build, fair skin—but that wasn't what Katya's gaze was drawn to. A pair of full, pink lips framed a beautiful wide smile that reached all the way up to her even more beautiful, sparkling green eyes. Her eyelashes were so long they nearly touched her perfectly defined eyebrows, and when she blinked, they brushed over her sharp cheekbones. Her nose wasn't small or pointy, and had a little bump that would make most people self-conscious, but fit her face so well that everyone would be jealous of it anyway.

But somehow, like that wasn't already enough to turn heads, this all paled in comparison to the long, slightly curly hair that fell down her shoulders. It was that kind of bright, deep red that non-redheads tried to achieve but never could. The kind that naturally looked darker in the winter and lit up slightly orange in the summer sun. Everchanging and unique, and part of the reason why Katya's heart was hammering in her chest. 

''I'm Natasha.''

Oh. My. God. 

Katya could not form a single thought. Her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert in the middle of the summer. She could only stare. Stare at her roommate while she tried to fight off the gay panic that reduced her to a completely useless human being. 

This could not be happening. The girl she had to live with for a year could not be this excruciatingly attractive. Freshman year would be her end. 

Awkwardly, she cleared her throat when she saw that Natasha was waiting for a response, an amused eyebrow quirked up on her forehead. God, she was already making a fool of herself. ''Katya Petrova,'' she said shortly, her smile filled with embarrassment as she accepted the blueberry muffin Natasha kindly got her. Get yourself together, or she's gonna get tired of your weirdness quickly.

It wasn't physically possible, but Natasha's perfect eyes lit up even more. ''Russian?''

''Yeah.''

Her smile turned into a mysterious smirk that sent tingles down Katya's spine. ''Then we're gonna get along just fine,'' she said, and Katya couldn't help but feel like there was some sort of double meaning she was missing. Natasha looked at her like she was a meal, and her nerves intensified.

''Uh, thank you for the muffin,'' she blurted out.

''You're welcome,'' Natasha mused, totally cool as she leaned back against her desk. It was unfair, how she turned Katya into a complete mess while she remained confident and calm. But it was so attractive. Katya shivered as Natasha's green eyes slowly looked her up and down. ''I think I picked right. You look like a blueberry muffin girl.''

An awkward chuckle slipped past Katya's lips. She wanted to get away from that piercing gaze desperately, anything to think clearly again, but it wouldn't let her move. ''What does that mean?''

''I don't know.'' With a smirk—and intense eye contact—Natasha brought her ring finger to her lips and sucked the muffin crumbs off. Casually, she repeated the motion with her other fingers, her entire thumb disappearing in her mouth.

Katya felt her eyes widen, more gay panic flushing her veins until her heart thudded loudly in her chest. Images, ones she would never say out loud, filled her mind. Her lower stomach turned into knots while a blush covered her cheeks. She turned away, pretending to be really busy with unpacking. She swore she heard a soft chuckle behind her.

''I hope you don't mind the rug and the curtains. I took the liberty to decorate.''

''That's okay," Katya answered, having trouble remembering what the curtains even looked like. They were the very last thing on her mind as she rummaged aimlessly through her bag, hoping Natasha didn't notice that she wasn't doing anything.

''Is that all your stuff?''

Katya shook her head, risking a glance over her shoulder. She was relieved to see that Natasha's flirty expression had turned into something more puzzled. ''No, the rest is in my car.''

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Natasha's eyes visibly softened. ''Are you here alone?''

''Yes," Katya answered casually, ignoring the stab in her heart.

It stayed quiet a moment longer than normal, painfully so. These silences were nothing new. She'd started to expect them. On Mother's day, on Father's day, on Christmas, on Thanksgiving, but also moments like these, where she didn't know she would be missing parents until she was in the moment. 

''Does your family live far away?'' Natasha asked carefully.

''Sort of.''

She put her muffin down and uncrossed her arms. ''Let me help you carry the rest up. I can't possibly let you walk back and forth countless times while I take a nap,'' she joked lightheartedly.

''Oh, no, it's okay. Really. You don't have to help me," Katya refused, not in the mood for pity. But Natasha stood up straight and tied her beautiful hair into a perfect messy bun.

''Well, I want to," she said with a tone so definitive that Katya lost all her will to protest. "And I'm not taking no for an answer.'' She looked ready to tackle a big job. Hands on her Lululemon shorts-clad hips, sports shoes on her feet. And those lean arms…they could surely carry a few boxes.

Katya considered it for a moment, and then nodded. It would be nice to have some help. ''Okay then.'' Natasha flashed her a big smile.

Somehow, she faced none of the struggles from before—having to parkour her way through the halls. People seemed to get out of their way for Natasha, driven by some invisible force that must have been her confident aura.

Katya felt entirely unworthy to be walking next to her. They attracted lots of eyes, and the reason they looked at them certainly wasn't her red, sweaty face. Nobody noticed a dull brunette next to a redheaded goddess in gym shorts and a crop top. 

Natasha didn't seem to notice anything. She kept talking to Katya, completely comfortable yapping to someone she'd only met five minutes ago, while Katya tried not to let her gay panic turn into real, uncontrollable panic. She only heard half of what her roommate was saying.

''Hey, Nat!''

They were in the quad, a huge field of grass between the main campus buildings. Today, the main path was lined with stalls full of information and help. If someone couldn't find their dorm or there was another problem, they could visit here. 

A guy, looking older than her, had called Natasha's name from one of the stands, his hand in the air to grab her attention. Katya's first instinct was; football player. He had the build for it.

''Jason!" She smiled, not stopping to talk to him. "How are you?''

He was the fourth guy to greet her like that. Like he knew her. They all looked vastly different—though good-looking—and they all looked older. Some closer to twenty-four than eighteen. It was odd. Where did she know all of them from? Katya was starting to gain suspicions that her roommate may be more well-known around here than she thought.

"So, what's your thing?" Natasha asked suddenly. Katya had been brooding over her roommate's popularity so hard that she didn't realize she'd fallen silent. Or that they were close to the parking lot. 

"I'm not sure what you mean."

"What are you here for?" Natasha clarified, smiling when she still saw the confusion on Katya's face. "Law and dance, that's my thing. Studying law, and I'll be trying out for the dance team."

Katya didn't find this surprising at all. Natasha looked like that kind of person who could do it both. Arts and literature. Body and brains. Someone good at absolutely everything. It also explained her subtle muscles and lean figure. Of course, the gorgeous, popular girl was a dancer. What were the chances she was a cheerleader in high school?

"Of course, you are." Katya paled when she realized the words had escaped her.

Natasha smirked amusedly. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Katya said quickly. Her roommate's need to fluster her all the time was starting to get on her nerves. She fiddled with her car keys, smiling nervously. "I'm not as interesting as you, I'm afraid."

Natasha tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with something flirty. "You interest me."

Heat rose on Katya's cheeks once more. She kept getting caught off guard by Natasha's simple yet effective smooth-talking. Everything she said seemed to have some sort of double meaning. Her body could not keep up with its reactions.

"History is my thing. History and literature. But the literature is just a hobby," she said awkwardly, trying to hide her red cheeks. Her studies and hobbies always sounded boring to begin with, but next to Natasha's they looked even worse. Katya grimaced. "I told you it's boring."

"No, it's not!" Natasha rushed to reassure her. "I've always envied people who could quote Hemmingway off the top of their heads. Are you one of those people?"

"Kind of." Katya smiled shyly when she realized that Natasha was being genuine. 

"That's cool." The redhead smiled. "Everyone has their own interests, don't be embarrassed of yours."

Katya wasn't used to the conversation going this way. It was a breath of fresh air. "Most people think it's lame," she said as she popped the trunk of her terribly plain and old Honda Civic.

Natasha shrugged, picking up the first box she saw. "People will always have opinions, so you are better off just doing what you like."

"Can't disagree." Katya smiled at her. Would things finally be different? Would she finally fit in somewhere? The day started off with lots of frustration but now the future looked very hopeful. Maybe she would finally feel at home somewhere.

It took the both of them three trips to get everything upstairs, after which Katya bought Natasha an iced coffee to thank her. She was drinking that as she scrolled on her phone and absentmindedly talked to Katya while Katya unpacked her stuff. 

Everything she had was in these boxes, her whole life. She had no family to store anything with, so all of it had to fit within the four walls of this room. There was some odd stuff in some of these boxes. But Natasha didn't ask her about anything. Overall, she had been nothing but considerate and an amazing roommate.

"This campus is full of disgusting boys."

Katya jumped. She had her back turned to the door, and with the business in the hallway hadn't heard someone stop in their doorway. It was a small blonde with her hands in her pockets. She looked annoyed, bored and disgusted all at the same time, like a moody teenager. Questionably, Katya looked at Natasha.

The woman sighed and put her phone down. "Kat, meet my little sister, Yelena. Yelena, this is Katya, my roommate."

As if she was only now realizing there was another person in the room, the blonde—Yelena—looked at Katya. Then she let out the loudest gasp. "Oh my god, they put you with a nerd." She laughed.

Katya blushed and looked away. That's not the first time she's heard that. In fact, people all throughout her life had taken the liberty of calling her that. It wasn't her looks per se—she didn't wear braces, outdated clothes, or thick-rimmed glasses. She was a normal kid, in normal clothes, with a delicate, modern-looking pair of glasses balancing on her nose. And, if Katya might say so herself, she wasn't ugly.

No, it was the things she did and liked that put a sticker on her. First of all, her introvertness and her shyness. It had gotten a lot better with age. She didn't stutter or stumble over her words as much anymore, but her shy nature stayed. It made that she never quite fit in with anyone. She didn't have big friend groups or hang around the popular kids. She usually had one good friend who she could sit in peaceful silence with.

Then there were the books, the literature, the movies she watched. Katya realized very young that she was different from the other girls in her class. She preferred the works of writers long gone, liked her movies black and white, and would rather spend her Friday afternoon reading than going to parties. They bullied her for having her lunch break in the library, reading alone, for getting an A on every test. Her interest lay with history, not with the latest Hollywood gossip. 

It shouldn't get to her, but in their cores, everyone wanted to belong, to be liked. She couldn't simply turn off her human instinct.

Natasha's hands curled into fists, and it looked like she was going to explode on her sister, until an older woman stepped into the room. Her hair was so dark brown it nearly looked black, and her face held a stern expression. She was also incredibly gorgeous. "Yelena Belova! That is not how I raised you!"

Yelena cringed. "Sorry, Mama," she muttered.

The woman's scowl disappeared as she turned to Katya, a warm, motherly smile appearing on her face instead. "Hello, my dear. I'm Melina, Natasha's mother. Please excuse my rude daughter. I promise I raised them both better than that."

A warm feeling flushed through Katya's body. "It's okay, ma'am. Natasha helped me carry the rest of my stuff up from my car."

"Good girl." Melina smiled proudly at her daughter. Natasha rolled her eyes, clearly not at ease with her family around a stranger. "If you don't need us anymore, Yelena and I will be leaving."

"Yes, please take her out of here." 

Anger flashed across Yelena's face. "I sacrificed my free day for you, you ungrateful—"

"Girls!" Melina sighed, shaking her head. With pity, she looked at Katya. "I wish you luck with her, my dear—"

"What does that mean?" Natasha exclaimed.

"---and be nice to each other. Natasha, if you need me, I'm just a call away."

"And just a town away." She rolled her green eyes again. "No need for emotional goodbyes."

"Well, I am gonna miss you."

"I'm not," Yelena mumbled under her breath, smiling innocently when her mother glared at her.

Natasha sighed and started to walk them out the door. Like a dog herding sheep. Katya tried not to laugh as Melina and Yelena stumbled over each other into the hallway. "Mhm, goodbye now. Thank you for helping me today." Natasha closed the door in their faces, locking it for good measure. A pleasant silence filled the room. "I'm sorry about her."

"It's alright." Katya shrugged, though her brain was still trying to process what just happened. "I'm used to being called a nerd. It's not an insult."

"She meant it as one. She's a dick." Natasha chewed on her lip, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of her sister's behavior. It meant a lot to Katya that it mattered so much to her.

"It's okay, Natasha, really." 

The redhead smiled carefully. "Melina is probably yelling at her now, though."

Katya laughed. "Their faces as you pushed them out the door..."

"If I hadn't, they would still be standing here, arguing." Natasha returned to her bed, falling back into the same position as before they were rudely interrupted. It already felt so domestic, so comfortable. They could exist together and do their own thing without bothering the other.

"Your sister is completely different from you, isn't she?" Katya asked as she continued her unpacking.

"Yes and no. She's more moody, sassy, rude." Katya chuckled when Natasha rolled her eyes. "But she's driven, hard working, and incredibly loyal to the people she loves. She will fight someone for you... Literally… She loves punching people."

Katya laughed. "She sounds like a good sister to have."

"She'll do." Natasha suddenly perked up, like someone flipped the switch of focus in her brain. Smirking, she studied the boxes on Katya's side of the room. "So, in which one of those is your lingerie?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Orientation had broken Katya's brain. She'd gotten so much information at once that she literally had a headache. A bad one. Add that to a bad night of sleep—only four hours in total because of her new surroundings and anxiety—and she was ready to crash.

She unlocked her door and stumbled into the room, not surprised to see it empty. Natasha's shoes were gone and her bed was made. From what Katya learned yesterday, she seemed to know a lot of people, so she was undoubtedly chatting with every person she ran into. Maybe she wouldn't even return until late. At least Katya had her number.

She took advantage of Natasha's absence to take a long shower. Then she drew the curtains closed and laid down for a nap, her headache already subsiding after chugging two glasses of water. Her eyelids were so heavy, sleep tugged on her brain… 

When her phone rang. 

Katya let out the loudest groan, hurting her head in the process. Who dared to interrupt her nap? Ideally, she would have ignored it, but it could be Natasha or somebody else important. Blindly, she felt around until her fingers wrapped around her phone, her eyes squinting against the bright light to read the name on the screen. 

Tony.

Yep, that made sense. That man always had the worst timing. 

"What?" Katya snapped.

"What a way to greet me. Are you busy?" He gasped dramatically, then lowered his voice. "Wait, are you finally getting laid?"

Katya sighed, the tips of her ears burning. Ever since he stopped seeing her as a kid, he was trying to get her laid. Unsuccessfully. "No."

"Then you got time for me. Did you get settled in?" 

"If you were actually here to help me, you would have known," she said accusingly. "But you're too busy slutting yourself out in Miami."

"Going on holidays is important," Tony said casually. Katya rolled her eyes. He wasn't vacationing, he was partying and drinking. Club music boomed in the background of the call. His classes didn't start for another week. "You know what's also important? If your roommate is hot."

Katya groaned, reaching for the curtain to tug it open. She was so glad this was not a FaceTime call, or he would have seen how red her face was. "I'm not entertaining you with an answer."

"So she is." His stupid grin could be heard in his voice. She wanted to slap him. "What's her name?"

Katya hesitated. Whenever she told him about her crushes, Tony would go and mingle. It wouldn't be the first time he scared one away, but if she didn't tell him now, he would show up next week on her doorstep. Even worse. "Natasha," she answered reluctantly. "You wouldn't like her, she's ginger."

"Wait. A Natasha with red hair? Does she have big tits and a great ass?"

As much as Katya wanted to yell at him for objectifying women, she couldn't help but blush. Of course, her gay ass had not been able to resist taking a look at Natasha's body. Subtly and respectfully, of course. Her thoughts had not been subtle or respectful though, but they were safely inside her head so it was okay. She wasn't that kind of person.

"She looks great, yes."

Exactly at that moment, Natasha freaking Romanoff herself burst through the door, looking incredible as always. Denim shorts, tank top, messy ponytail—Katya's heart skipped a beat. Nobody should look that good after a full day of walking around in the late summer heat. God, she was a mess for her. 

"Who looks great?" Natasha smirked, dropping her bag to the ground. "Some girl at orientation already grabbed your attention?"

"Uh—I…no. There's nobody," Katya stammered, watching wide-eyed as Natasha took the hair tie out her hair and shook all those gorgeous curls loose. Her biceps flexed subtly when she fluffed it up.

"Uhu. Better give me a chance too before you set your sights on someone," Natasha teased.

Katya's breath caught in her throat. Was she dreaming? "Y-You?"

"Yeah. Unless you're not into girls." Natasha smiled smugly when she glanced at Katya's stunned expression. "I thought so. Me too."

If this were a cartoon, Katya's eyeballs would have bulged out of her head. Surely, she was dreaming now. There was no way this was reality. "You're gay?"

Natasha shrugged, grabbing a towel from the cabinet. "I'm a little bit of everything. As long as it's hot and kissable, I'm kissing it." She smirked, and then she closed the bathroom door behind her like she hadn't just turned Katya's whole world upside down.

There was an error in her brain. Her brain had flatlined. Open-mouthed, Katya stared at the door her roommate had disappeared through. She was sweating. Did Natasha seriously just say that she is into girls and she wants a shot with her? Was her headache actually a stroke and was she hallucinating? 

"Shut the fuck up. Your roommate is Natasha Romanoff?" 

Katya jumped. She'd completely forgotten that she was on the phone with Tony, and that he just heard everything. Her heart was racing in her chest. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?"

He sighed. "You're hopeless. You need to get out more. She has a reputation for crashing college parties since she was 15. She's basically a legend."

It all made sense now. The guys who knew her, her popularity, why she knew her way around campus so well. She cuddled up with college guys while she was still in high school. 

How in the world did Katya, a nerd, get matched up with someone like what? Some funny forces were at play here. Someone up there must be laughing very hard.

"Okay, bye now." She just caught the start of Tony's protests when she cut off the call. She loved him, but she needed a moment to process these developments, and his endless yapping in her ear did not let her think clearly. 

He came into her life at a time where she needed someone the most. Orphaned since birth, Katya grew up in orphanages across the country. The last one she lived in, from age thirteen to literally last week, she met him. He'd protected her on the first day, when some older guys bullied her, and from there, he'd become her big brother. She saw him as that, too; family. Did he know Natasha personally?

Katya panicked when the shower turned off in the other room. Like, had a full-on silent panic attack. Not enough time had passed to process anything or to calm down. She couldn't face Natasha again. Not yet. What if she continued the conversation where it left off?

Quickly, she dived for her laptop and headphones, and put on the first TV show she could find. When Natasha came out of the bathroom, she didn't even spare her a glance. It was possibly the best performance of her life, pretending she was interested in her show and her heart wasn't pounding in her ears.

But Katya looked at her from the corner of her eye whenever she could, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing. Natasha seemed to be getting ready for something. She did her makeup and spent at least ten minutes in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Katya's eyes widened when she came out of the bathroom in a short, tight party dress later. There were curves and skin everywhere.

Frowning, Katya slid her headphones off. "Are you going somewhere?"

Natasha smiled over her shoulder, slipping her earrings in. Her eyes looked incredibly bright with the dark eyeshadow around it. Mesmerizing. "There's a welcome-back party in the Kappa Delta Psi house." 

"Aren't those for older students?"

Amusement flickered across the redhead's face. "I have a fake ID." She grabbed a pair of heels from under her bed and slipped those on too. They made her toned legs look incredible, miles long. Katya tried not to drool. "You should come."

Katya quickly shook her head, her anxiety surging at the thought of a college party. "Oh, no, thank you. Parties are not really my thing."

Natasha chuckled, a beautiful sound that sent the butterflies in Katya's stomach into a frenzy. "Alright. I'll be back late. Don't wait up." She swung her small purse over her shoulder and set out for the door. Her beautiful hair swung left and right over her exposed back, her pale skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. She looked ethereal. Katya called her name before she decided to.

"Nat?"

With her hand hovering above the doorknob, Natasha looked back. "Yes?"

Katya wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful. That her hair was amazing, that her makeup was flawless, that the dress fit her perfectly. That she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. But the moment she opened her mouth, she chickened out. "Have fun."

A bright smile curled on her dark red lips. "Thanks."

[faithtrickedhope]

okay, okay, so—

no one asked for it, but here is every mention of hunger/food/eating/drinking in epic, and how i think it all ties to the overarching themes of the narrative; a needlessly long post:

throughout the troy saga, food is repeatedly brought up as it is necessary to the survival of the fleet. at this point, they’ve just emerged from war and have not yet faced the atrocities that will later befall them, thus, searching for food is their biggest priority and largest concern at that point. this is the beginning of the motif of food in relation to the desperation of the characters. lack of food makes them desperate, hunger is desperation. (the lotus eaters quite literally echo this need back to them)

(post continues under the cut, image IDs are in ALT text)

here is our first instance of how food, although necessary, can just as much be dangerous. this foreshadows later on when we see circe’s meal have ill effect on the soldiers. here though, odysseus is the one to notice this, he has not yet reached a point of desperation where he is acting irrationally

knowing now what will unfold in this cave, this specific conversation surrounding food is almost a damnation. as we see later in the songs, food can be associated with death as much as with life

much like with the revelation of the lotus, we see, although he maybe should have considered the danger before entering the cave, odysseus is still at a point where he can think rationally in relation to the food

not a whole lot to say here, though i suppose it’s interesting that where before now food has been treated as a source of saving the men, now the cyclops threatens turning them to food, this it now represents death

not food but now drink is being offered as a peace offering, yet again consumption represents life and survival, as odysseus offers the wine as a means to spare his men

circe uses food as a means of luring in the men. it’s something they’ve been longing for - desperate for - for so long, that now they don hesitate to eat without any rational consideration of potential dangers. like with the lotus, the food - although veiled as being salvation, is dangerous. and like with the cyclops’ threats, it hails something ominous

now, again, food is shown as being a powerful, hopeful thing. in this case, the flower hermes gives odysseus to eat quite literally acts as a means of salvation, offering him a way to fight circe. again and again, eating is beyond a means of just quelling hunger, but necessary to survival

odysseus relays how the sirens planned to prove their power by “turning [the] men into snacks”, only to contrast this s few lines later with “we are the ones who feast now”, as he and his men are the ones who have gained the upper hand. here, eating directly represents power

the repetition of “hunger is so heavy” from the men mirrors how we first see them, hungry. but here its so much worse, here they’re so much more desperate. even after whta happened with the sheep before, they cannot think rationally now. they just want to eat. they’re hungry, and that hunger is heavy and it begs them to eat. (also, jorge has said that eurylochus “instrument” in the musical is the voices of the solders. here, them echoing his words reinforces just how desperate and hungry he, specifically, is, as though he is really trying to get it across to odysseus) (ouch)

eurylochus dies the same way he was introduced in the musical - hungry. one of his first lines is him telling odysseus that the men are hungry, and now he tells ody that he is starving. but where the first time he still has the hope to search for food, now he is defeated. he’s giving up. he’s desperate, but he’s exhausted too. he’s trying to plead with ody, or maybe just explain why he’s about to do what he does. he’s starving, he just wants it to end

and finally, zeus looks to odysseus to tell him that the hunger is too great now. desperation is too high. and who pays the price for that? when all of them are so desperate and hungry, will odysseus choose to quench his own needs, or spare his crew and let them feast? where one god used food to trick the men and another offered it as a means of salvation, now a third holds it over their heads’ as a taint - look at how the mighty have come to this

okay. so, uh. yeah.

[aezuria]

*ੈ✎ two lovers entwined, pass me by

"and heaven knows i'm miserable now" —the smiths

content: leo valdez x roman! reader

╰┈▸ back cover: what if leo gets a little too tired of being the seventh wheel, wait- ninth wheel? (and meets a girl who is a d1 hater)

╰┈▸ warnings: leo and yn dont hate hate couples its a joke okay (unless its not a joke anymore pls give them love-) cursing, maybe ooc reyna? NOT canon compliant, a bit of angst but overall its silly

librarian's annotations: this is now my fav work if u guys dont like it then dont tell me pls 😣

leo was tired. sick and tired of everyone's public displays of affection! can they at least have the decency to romance each other in the privacy of their own rooms!? he did not build ten of them for no reason! there was absolutely no way they needed to suck face at the dining table. like, right in front of his food!?

okay, he was being a bit dramatic. the most everyone was willing to do in public was hold hands. and maybe share a kiss. but that was a kiss too much! and wasn't reyna supposed to off doing (cool) praetor shit!? ever since her and jason made up, leo has not been able to catch a break! can they stop eyefucking each other already!? (they are simply staring into one another's eyes)

"guys." leo swept his gaze over the dining table. he was seated at the end, giving him an unwarranted view of everyone paired up. apparently, love is also deaf, since no one turned their head to him.

"guys!" leo raised his voice. would he be heard over the sound of their unspoken conversations? heads finally spun to look at him, as if they just remembered he was there.

"can you guys like, eat? or do this-" he gestured widely. "elsewhere? and by elsewhere i mean not in front of me."

they all managed to give him the exact same look that was a mix of embarrassment at being called out, and something that said "poor leo, he's so single!" oh come on! jason made it even worse by putting a—what was supposed to be—comforting hand on his arm. "it's okay, leo. i'm sure you'll find someone one day."

this was not funny at all. and leo would know; he's the funniest guy ever! he snatched his arm away with an utterly aghast expression. "ew! get your pity off of me!" he shuddered, playing up the theatrics and wiped his forearm over jason, giving him his couple-cooties back.

the blond reeled back, laughing at his best friend's antics. "what was that for!?"

"don't act like you don't know!" he sneered accusingly.

nights were always the worst for leo. they were quiet, and not the calm, peaceful quiet when he would stay out and watch the sun set, the time before his happiness came to an end. it was an empty quiet, devoid of the laughter he caused, his thoughts become louder to fill up the silence.

(it was night when his mother died, when he had burned down the warehouse. when he had killed her. it was night when he awoke to the front door slamming, the sounds of drunken yells and glass splintering were backing instruments in an interlude of impending misery as he waits for the sun to shine once again. it was night when he ran away, with nothing more than his heavy heart and some left over change.)

leo's thoughts ran rampant with the feelings he kept in a glass box. always there, always seen, very fragile yet rarely opened. sometimes he would shake it a little too hard, and it would come crashing down like a bottle of alcohol, spilling insecurities instead of wine.

tonight was one of those times.

he doesn't know what brought it on. well, he lied; it was the sight of everyone at dinner, looking happy and complete without him. but he was used to it. it shouldn't have bothered him this much. but the more he let it stew, the more it hurt. leo loved his friends, sure, but he couldn't help but have a little bit of resentment at how easy it was for them to make up, make out. hell, even piper got a girlfriend, a mortal one at that! between traveling and fighting monsters, he didn't even know that was possible. what about him was so unlovable?

as he tossed and turned to shake off the voices in his head, he knew that this would be another sleepless night.

today was going to be a good day; leo could feel it in his gut. the skies were clear, there were no monsters coming to wake them up, and the engine was running smoothly. he had time to work on his little projects all day today! he hummed a tune as he walked to the engine room, or his work room for today, and spun a wrench in his hand. maybe he had a little skip to his saunter, a pep in his step. something about today was just so-

his gut lied to him. (maybe he was hungry?) the wrench clattered to the ground as he came to an abrupt stop. "oh. my. gods." leo paused between every word to further emphasize his disdain.

the sight was scandalous, completely and irrevocably scandalous. like, i-need-to-wash-my-brain-out scandalous. and leo was so not being dramatic this time.

percy and annabeth flinched away from each other in a half-asleep fumble, trying to act as if they had not just been caressing each other's bodies mere moments ago. (okay, maybe he was being dramatic again) this wasn't even a romantic place to do that! and leo would know, he's such a romantic guy. what was the purpose of his hard work of making bedrooms if they were just going to sneak off and desecrate his beloved engine room!?

"frank catching you two once wasn't enough?" leo huffed and bent down to pick up his dropped tool. "now i have to see the two of you fraternizing in my domain!?"

"that's not even the proper word-" annabeth had tried to hold back, but the urge to correct him was too much.

"i don't care! shoo!"

leo was so done. his perfect day had been ruined first thing in the morning! now it was late, he was tired, and he was finally heading back to his room to get some much needed rest after holing himself up all day working on random knick-knacks. a soft noise caught his attention. it was dim, the lights low since him and annabeth wanted to save electricity. he felt the familiar dread in his stomach. there was absolutely no way this could be happening.

"we shouldn't do this here..." wait, was that reyna?

"i know.. but i'm gonna miss you when you leave." no. no. NO. the direction the two very very familiar voices were coming from was right in front of the hallway to his bedroom. "please?"

leo was torn. he didn't want to walk in on them, but he couldn't spend another night in the engine room! he wanted his comfy bed right now!

he slapped a hand over his eyes and stepped heavily on the wooden floorboards, giving them a much needed warning. he heard the sound of fabric and shuffling, a satisfied smirk gracing his face.

"are you guys decent?" leo asked, still squeezing his eyes shut under his hand.

jason huffed, no doubt red in the face. "it's not like we weren't in the first place."

leo dared to open his eyes, finding that not only was his face red, but there were bruises starting to dapple his neck. ew. he did not want to think about how that came to be. "uh huh. well go and canoodle somewhere not in front of my room, please and thank you."

"canoodle?"

"reyna i told you, i don't wanna go!" you grumbled akin to a toddler, despite your status as the centurion of the first cohort. you took off your armor, dropping it to the ground haphazardly. "i don't need to see you and mister perfect canoodling in front of me!"

the praetor snorted and shook her head. "'canoodling?' you're the second person i've heard use that word this week." she paused, a thoughtful expression passing over her face. "you guys would get along well, i think. anyways, i'm not asking as a friend, i'm ordering you as praetor."

oh that was so unbelievably low! "what!? reynaa!" you stretched out the end of her name in an embarrassingly childish whine. good thing it was just the two of you here, otherwise no one would let you live it down. "i thought they were supposed to be going soon anyway!?"

"you heard me. and no, they're staying for a couple more nights. something about the engine being broken again?" she shrugged, an amused glimmer breaking through her usually serious front. "besides, we have a lot to discuss about the whole gaea thing, and who better to bring than you? you're my right hand woman."

you tried to hide a smile at her words, but sweet-talk always won you over. "ugh, fine. i guess i'll go."

something was up. you knew that from the moment she asked you to "wear something other than purple for once." who even owned anything but purple!? heck, you didn't even know reyna had different clothes outside of uniform! was that even allowed? you'd only ever seen her wear the same shirt as you, and a toga if the event accounted for it.

you sifted through your wardrobe, digging through masses of violet and coming up blank. oh well, guess its uniform time again. not that you minded all that much.

"you are changing." reyna shook her head, giving you a disappointed look only a mother could offer. this wasn't even a big deal! what was so wrong with your shirt? you rather liked purple!

"but why!? what better way to represent rome than this?" you gestured to your clothing. "aren't we talking business? also this is like the only shirt i have."

"because-"

"you just wanna look all pretty for your boyfriend." you cut her off, faking a gag. "doesn't mean i have to look pretty."

her shoulders tensed and you drew back, already anticipating her near-fatal blow.

"reyna? you know i was just kidding- OW!"

"-wait this is so my color actually." you checked yourself in her mirror. who knew reyna had fashion sense? although not much was required for a simple shirt and jeans.

she nodded and got to her feet. "suits you well. consider it my apology."

"huh? apology for what? for hitting me? aww you're so-"

"no. for what's about to happen to you." a solemn expression took over her face. she was well aware of your exaggerated hatred for couples. maybe you were just a bitter single, but she wasn't about to tell you that. she hoped you would soon be taken (not literally) and stop harassing her for her romantic escapades.

that was ominous. should you be scared for your life? "what the hell does that even mean?"

oh. now you knew exactly what it meant. as the two of you boarded the argo ii, she was immediately swept into a bone-crushing hug by jason, as if he couldn't bear to let her go ever again. you almost threw up at the sight. how could your beloved best friend be reduced to a lovesick schoolgirl at the touch of a man!? a man that had forgotten her! (and remembered, and apologized, and confessed his love- okay, you were starting to see her side quite clearly)

you turned your head away entirely, not wanting to see all that. but everywhere you looked, a new couple seemed to pop up. it was like your worst nightmare come to life. percy and annabeth? piper and some girl? frank and hazel? holding hands? since when were they a thing!? sweet hazel and shy frank? they were—admittedly—adorable, but still!

your only respite was leo looking just as exasperated as you. he must have it way worse; he had to live here with all of them. you shuddered. you were glad you weren't in his place right now.

you stood awkwardly to the side as they reunited. do they do this all the time? and everyone's just cool with it? maybe they can relate, with their taken-ness and all. ugh.

leo peeked at you curiously from the corner of his eye. your expression was as clear as day, face scrunched up in disdain as he traced your gaze to the practically infinite amount of couples onboard. he nodded internally, knowing exactly how you were feeling. but hey, he couldn't just let a pretty girl like you stay unhappy on his ship, not if he could help it!

"hey there," leo said smoothly, or as smooth as he could be after he had almost tripped on the crack between the floorboards. "i'm leo."

finally! someone had the decency to entertain you. "i know you! you're the guy that made octavian throw a hissy fit for firing at new rome!" shit, was that a weird thing to say for a first time interaction? too late now.

the brunette cringed at the mention of his possession. "uh, that's not what most people know me by, but yeah..?"

"oh? and what do most people know you by?" consider yourself intrigued.

leo perked up at your question, having been given an amazing opportunity to charm you. "well obviously it's my rugged good looks, and ingenious inventions, and-"

"we're starting dinner now!" jason called out from the dining table, before recieving an elbow to the gut from reyna and a harsh whisper from piper.

you were lost in your thoughts, zoning out as everyone spoke around you. leo's actually kinda... a tiny part of you popped the idea into your head. he was kinda, indeed. gods, i hate couples. a much larger portion of your mind seemed to yell. do you, or do you just hate being single? you asked yourself. huh. well it's probably-

a cough to your left caught your attention. it was leo. when his brown eyes met yours, you couldn't see a trace of that same boy who was described a traitor and a freak for firing at new rome. maybe something really did possess him.

"wanna know how i built this ship?" he asked excitedly. it was clear that the argo ii was his pride and joy.

"yeah!" you grinned, his cheerfulness rubbing off on you. who cares if he fired on new rome anymore? that was so last tuesday.

"so first, i had this cool metal dragon..."

unbeknownst to you, annabeth whispered across the table to reyna. "i think it's working?"

so, the dinner wasn't anything about business. you did learn a ton from leo though! that was business enough wasn't it? still, you couldn't help the pang of guilt that came with not getting anything work-related done. it was practically in your genes as a roman.

"y/n! you should stay the night!" hazel encouraged from the sofa across you. she was met with choruses of yeahs! and you shoulds! by the other girls, including reyna.

"oh!" you laughed awkwardly, trying to think of a way to politely turn them down. as much as you would love to stay and get to know them, you had a job to do. even if that job was getting all the legionnaires in your cohort to bed by curfew. (like seriously, the amount of times you've had to reel in couples you caught sneaking out was crazy. maybe that's where your hatred came from.) "i'd love to, but i have... centurion duties and all that."

"but reyna has praetor duties and she's staying," annabeth argued. her gray eyes shone with an intensity you only saw on the battlefield. what was going on?

that was new information to you. "you're staying?" you questioned your friend, who looked away with a hint of embarrassment.

"jason's leaving soon," she coughed. after being apart for so long, you could hardly blame her for wanting a little more time with him. "but that's besides the point. you should stay."

you crossed your arms, trying to come up with another excuse. "uh, i don't have clothes to change into?" it was a weak attempt, but you hoped it would work.

"i can lend you some," hazel piped up from the side, obviously eager to make you stay.

aw. she was always so nice. but you had a feeling there was an underlying motive you just couldn't figure out.

you tried again. "i don't think there's a spare room for me to sleep in."

"there's an empty one by leo," piper pointed out.

well, that was it. they refuted all your claims and left you no choice but to stay. you heaved a sigh and relented. "fine."

you weren't sure how it happened, but you ended up with leo again. so much for girls night. but you couldn't complain, leo was good company. he never let the silence stew between you guys for too long, always switching between one topic to the next, until somehow, you were both talking shit about your pathetic love lives and the insufferable ones of those around you.

"you wouldn't believe how many times i've caught these people! i swear, they can never keep it in their pants for more than two seconds! it's like, trauma at this point!" you rolled your eyes, absolutely abhorring the new legionnaires in your cohort.

leo laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. he looked over his shoulder, before leaning in as if telling you a secret. "like two days ago, i caught jason and reyna making out! he had hickies all over his neck!"

you gasped at the scandalous behavior of the two most serious people you knew. "what!? no way..."

the curly-haired boy nodded vehemently. "yes way! it was so gross."

eventually, it was time for the both of you to say your goodnights. leo led you to your room, giving you a cheeky wink before he retreated into his own. you shut the door, and threw yourself into bed.

maybe it was the unfamiliar environment, maybe it was the fact that you were way up in the air, or maybe it was leo running circles around your mind. whatever the reason was, you couldn't sleep. or maybe you chose not to, just to have an excuse to see the stars. the time when they were out was the only time you'd allow yourself a break.

you crept out of the room, careful not to make noise as you made your way out onto the deck. the air was crisp, a gentle bite against your skin. it seemed that the god of the sky was on your side tonight, for the clouds were nowhere to be seen, only the full moon of artemis and the familiar stars shone. you made yourself comfy on the floor, leaning back against the railing as you took a deep breath.

it would be another night of no sleep for leo, that much he could tell. he groaned into his pillow. he couldn't tell if it was the new crush already forming on you, or his angst from a few days before. regardless, his nervous energy made him get up and pace the room, fidgeting with a screw he found on the floor. with footsteps light, he traveled the small area, before something told him to get some fresh air. he obliged. it was better than being in his stuffy room.

as he went up the stairs to the upper level, he caught sight of a figure in the distance. leo's curiosity spiked. he walked closer, the image of you coming into view. your eyes locked on his, a soft smile gracing your face at seeing him. "hey."

"hey." leo dipped his head in greeting, and sat down beside you. "mind if i sit here?"

you shook your head and returned your gaze to the starry night sky, a comfortable silence settling between you two, with only the tapping of leo's fingers against the floor filling the air. it was different, being alone with him. he seemed different. he was quieter, more mellow.

"i hate nights." leo blurted out, breaking the peace you two had shared.

"really?" you asked softly. he braced himself with the condescending remark that was sure to come after, but it never came. instead he received a genuine interest from you. "why's that?"

the boy felt his heart beat a little faster. was he really going to tell you, a girl he barely knew, his whole life story? perhaps it was the late hour that made him want to spill everything out. or the feeling that stirred whenever he looked at you, like magnets attracting. and so he did.

and you listened without any interruption, never followed up with that remark he was waiting for, never gave him the pity he hated. instead, you followed up with your own story.

"i love nights. for me, it's the only time i really feel free. when everyone else is asleep, and it's just you and the stars. away from all the rules." you looked up. they seemed so close from here, way up in the floating ship. they twinkled like glitter, flashing heys and hellos and nice to see you agains. it was beautiful.

leo admired you the way you did the stars. they reflected off your eyes and made your irises shine, the same way fire casted a diffused glow on everything around it. maybe nights weren't so bad after all, if every one of them would be spent with you.

and when you leaned against him to rest your head on his shoulder, whispering secrets into his ear? oh, caligula would have blushed. (leo knows he sure did)

"operation get leo a girlfriend, complete!"

"i thought we were calling it operation get y/n a boyfriend?"

"whatever. operation leoy/n is a success!"

"...you know we can hear you guys, right?"

[multifandomthoughts]

Mercs with a reader who’s like Mitsuri

Heavy

Heavy really appreciates you. He likes to cook, and when he does, he makes huge portions. So seeing that you eat a lot, it makes him happy. The last thing he would want is for you to go hungry.

He was curious one day, and wanted to see if you could lift Sasha. So he gave you permission to pick his gun up, with the caveat that you had to be extremely careful with her. Was pleasantly surprised and pleased to see that you could lift her with ease.

Compared to his serious and stoic demeanor, he loves how bubbly and happy you are! It really makes his heart flutter, even if he doesn’t outwardly show it.

He also loves how absolutely authentic you are to yourself. If anyone says anything negative about you, they’re going to find the end of his fists. Nobody hurts you and gets away with it, not on his watch.

Engineer

“Heavy load, coming through!” Is something you’re going to hear much more from him now that you’re around. With your permission and assistance, he can build bigger and heavier contraptions! He’s incredibly grateful, because even though he himself is strong, you’re much stronger than him.

Just like Heavy, it’s normal in his family to have big meals, so at first he wasn’t sure how you would react to him giving you so much food. But he’s incredibly joyful once he sees that you’ve finished your plate and asked for more! You’ll definitely fit in at the family barbecues.

When he’s having a bad day, it always makes him at least the little bit happier when you’re around. You’re so bubbly and sweet that he can’t possibly be upset much longer.

Has tried to arm wrestle you with his gunslinger before, just out of curiosity. He wanted to see how far your physical strength actually went. You lost obviously as you can’t out force a robot arm.

Medic

Is absolutely fascinated by how strong you are despite you not looking it. Definitely wants to do experiments on you to determine why this is the case. Is there something that makes you different than the others? Or is it just pure natural strength?

Observes you from a distance, just watching you interact with the others. Is probably the one least likely to call you a monster, he thinks you’re a perfect specimen.

Doesn’t say anything, but he thinks it’s very attractive when you lift very heavy things. It sends a shiver down his spine that he has to shake off. He might ask you to help him declutter his office sometime as it has some very large medical instruments that need removing.

Is also impressed about how much you can eat, and wonders if how much you eat correlates to how you were able to retain all that muscle mass. Not so discretely takes notes on you while eating.

Demoman

When he hears about how strong you are, he wants to see if you can wield the eyelander. When you can, he shows you the power of wielding both the eyelander and the chargin’ targe. He teaches you how to use them, because he figures that you have enough muscle mass to keep you safe.

When he gets a new barrel or box full of materials he asks if you can help him move it so he can get to work on making more of them. When you do, you happily talk to him all the way, helping to motivate him to work harder.

Because you can eat so much, he wonders if you can drink a lot as well. Challenges you to a drinking contest, and when you inevitably lose, he apologizes profusely. Is still incredibly impressed about how far you got though.

Though, he does tell you how cute you were while drunk. You thought you were bubbly sober? Take it to another level whole nother level. You were giggling, cracking jokes and cuddling up to him.

Pyro

They knew you were a fun person the first time they laid their eyes on you. This is another person who will relate to being called a monster and will not hesitate to torch whoever did it.

When they bake, they ask you to be their taste tester! They want to make sure everything is right, and if it takes a batch or two, that’s okay! Your voracious appetite won’t be ruined if you have a few cupcakes!

When they want to make a big bonfire outside (much to the chagrin of others.) They also ask you to help them find some large kindling so that they can have a big party!

Pyro also loves hugs, and you can often be seen either picking them up in a hug, or carrying them across your shoulder. They’re surprisingly light, even with the suit and it makes them incredibly happy that you pick them up.

Scout

Like Demoman, he is incredibly interested to see how much food you can eat. Challenges you to a food eating contest, but this time, he loses. He’s absolutely miserable after the fact, but thinks you’re so cool for eating that much food.

Scout loves running with you, and loves that you can actually keep up with him. You’re nimble and quick like him, and it causes him to want to keep doing his best.

Despite him being a bit ruder, and a bit more brash, you two are constantly chattering like birds, talking about basically everything, no matter how stupid the things coming out of his mouth may be.

You stand up for him when he gets attacked, because as much as he can be annoying he doesn’t deserve to be beaten up like a bully in high school

Soldier

Is suspicious of you at first. Your arms and legs are tiny, how could you possibly be as strong as you say they are? The rest of the mercs must have been just been nice to you. That is, until he sees you clock an enemy with just your strength during a battle.

From then on, considers you to be a real American soldier, perfect for the battlefield of life. Helps you find what weapons would be the best suited for you, since weight isn’t a problem.

Applauds you on your abilities in the battlefield, and sticks close to you. Nobody is better than him, and he just wants to make sure that you’re taking his war tips to heart.

When dinner time comes, he’s incredibly shocked at how much you eat, and is lowkey concerned that you’re overdoing it. You’re tiny, you don’t want to make yourself sick on the mission tomorrow!

Sniper

You work with him as somewhat of a bodyguard when he’s on high ground. He can view the area in front of him, while you make sure that nobody is sneaking up on him from behind. You’re strong enough to make sure nobody gets to his perch.

In the off time though, he likes having barbecues in the front of his vans. You’re incredibly fond of them, and the first time you have a barbecue with him, he realizes that he won’t have to worry about leftovers.

Whenever he needs help with his van, he requests your help. Whether it’s the inside or the outside, he knows that he can count on you. Usually it’s that the van needs a new tire or some new wiring, and you’re always willing to help.

Being someone who is tall and lanky but moderately strong, he relates to you. There’s one big difference between the two of you though, and that’s that he’s really quiet. Your chattering actually helps him feel more comfortable because it lets you control the conversation and allows him to say what he needs to say without having to speak up too much.

Spy

Just like Sniper, Spy enjoys listening to you talk. However, because Spy is a more realistic person, your positivity helps balance out the tone of your conversation. When he’s having a particularly bad day, just listening to you talk is helpful to ease your mind.

He definitely wants you to try some of his home cooked food, because while he noticed you eat a lot of food, you love everything that you eat. He just hopes that you aren’t put off by French portion sizes.

Quite likes how you are nimble and quick. Had you not be so talkative, he thinks you’d make quite a good spy. He does teach you how to be a bit more silent so you can sneak up on scout though.

Is confused why people would call you a monster, had they never seen someone so strong before? He likes it that way, so you don’t have to rely on him as much, and that makes him much more likely to help you on the rare occasion you do need it.

[tokiwarcube]

This is gonna be so random, but can we get dethklok headcanons of how they'd react to their s/o being a ghoul/ghoulette in Ghost, please? 😶

Less random than you'd think, actually! This prompt in particular was actually written with a ghoul/ette reader in mind, although it wasn't explicitly stated. I'm actually a huge Ghost fan, myself! Bonus points to anyone who can ID me in the movie, LMAO

I do encourage reading This one for a bit more instrument/element specifics, but regardless, do enjoy!

Nathan Explosion

Despite his fame, Nathan keeps his personal life a secret from the media — or well, as best as he can as one of the most famous men in the world. So in that sense, he kind of admires the anonymity you maintain. Or at least used to maintain, anyways.

He’s gotten sucked into the metal vs. not metal debate, and before seeing you perform, he absolutely lies on the latter half of the debate. But holy shit, talk about stage presence. He’s very proud of where Dethklok stands in a concert sense — seeing Dethklok is truly, a completely unforgettable experience — but Ghost is just… Brutal.

Performance-wise, he likes Year Zero the most — the first time he saw flames erupting over the stage, bathing you in hues of orange and white absolutely took his breath away. Any song where you get to shine is a favorite of his as well.

His favorite song overall is a toss up between Year Zero and Elizabeth, though. He likes the lyrical imagery of both, and really, what metal performer doesn’t have a soft spot for an song about Elizabeth Bathory?

He gets a bit jealous if you’re a little flirty on stage, especially because he can’t just swoop in to make his place clear, but he works through it.

He’s a little obsessed with the Era V outfits — don’t be too surprised if he gets a bit handsy when the mask comes off. Or before.

He fucking hates Plushia with a passion — he is convinced that its cursed, and will not allow him in the house.

Pickles the Drummer

Pickles LOVES Ghost once you introduce him, and not just because you’re in it. The very fun, in-your-face sexuality that comes with rituals is right up his alley, and the musical niche they fall into with regards to genre is just… Listen, he loves the heavy shit, but rock will always have a place in his heart.

Impera enjoyer till the end of his days. His favorite live song is Watcher in the Sky, both for the vibes and for how crazy you’re allowed to be on stage; however, he’s also rather partial to Mary on a Cross, for obvious reasons. It’s not his favorite musically, but he does think that the bit Papa does live is funny as fuck.

Assuming you’re a ghoul with a bit of movement, he likes to hang out with security so he can hit his vape and shotgun you from below. There are MANY videos of this circulating online, and you’ve gotta admit — it’s pretty hot. Sometimes he’ll indulge the rest of the ghouls if they try to jump on the train — he’s not greedy. Also, its funny.

He likes to suggest silly little bits to incorporate into future shows — whether or not they actually get through review is another thing, but he’s got some good ideas. He doesn’t mind if you get a bit flirty on stage either — hell, he thinks it’s hot as fuck, truth be told.

He always steals mummy bucks out of the cannons before they go off. Puts it in a money clip and everything, the bastard.

He thinks the military outfit is hot as hell, but also. You do look like a bug. And he won’t hesitate to rib you about it every now and then.

Misses Cowbell Ghoul every day of his life.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

He loves how camp Ghost is — all of the bits really make the show fun, and he loves that humor is incorporated so well. After catching enough of your Rituals, he starts bugging Nathan to incorporate some sort of spin off the “go fuck yourself” bit, and let me tell you, he’s CLOSE to getting his way.

He absolutely made fun of you when the Era V outfits got revealed… and never stopped. He loves the Era III and IV outfits so much more all around, and will never let them go. (I’m so sure that he’d like it more if he could see past the mask, but he just can’t. Quit staring at him with them big ole eyes!!!)

He still insists on tightening the bolo for you before you go on stage, though. And he secretly saves all of the gifs and videos of you on stage to watch when he misses you. So… maybe the mask does grow on him a little bit, loathe as he is to admit it.

I don’t know how to tell you this, but he 100% develops this weird, pretty one-sided rivalry with Dew. Is it because of the man beneath the mask? Is it some weird lead guitarist thing? Is it because he gets to work with you on stage, and Skwisgaar doesn’t? He’ll never tell you, but either way, he shoots some vile glares his way whenever you two interact on-stage.

There’s one particular video of Dew flashing the “you suck” sticker at him, and Skwis just glaring up a storm in response.

His favorite songs to hear live are either Mummy Dust or Cirice, and he always tries to coax you over to flirt with him a bit… and he’s usually successful He might be in the crowd at barrier, but he’s managed to cement himself as a staple of every ritual. Go figure.

(People online always complain about the giant at barrier though, please convince him to hang with security under the guise of sneaking kisses or something. People are So Sick of his tall ass, even if he does add to the show.)

Toki Wartooth

Ghost ticks so many boxes for Toki, so needless to say, he is ecstatic that you get to work with such a cool act!

His favorite album is a hard tie between Opus Eponymous and Prequelle, funnily enough. The former reminds him of his early days in metal, but he loves the overall vibes of Prequelle — very hard to choose between the two, for him.

After you introduced him to Ghost through your work, he actually delved a bit deeper, and got obsessed with Repugnant. He 100% prods you into prodding Mr. Toblerone Frog into doing more death metal stuff.

He absolutely makes bracelets to trade with fans — getting a bracelet made by Toki quickly becomes as legendary as getting a ghoul pick. Although there’s always exactly one bracelet per show that he makes with one of your spare picks that he hands out to one special person.

He has your ringtone set to If You Have Ghosts :’) He also very much loves the Ghesties bit, and there’s a nonzero chance that he’s changed your contact to be a gh- prefix of some sweet little petname he has for you.

His favorite song is easily Dance Macabre — both live and off the stage! This only doubles after the events of LA.

He saves mummy dust and confetti from every show that you do, and keeps it in his scrapbook.

He thinks the Era V outfit is really cute. You DO look like a bug… but you’re his bug :)

He has been begging for ghoul plushies since he started dating you; although, he is very happy to own a little Plushia. He thinks he’s cute.

William Murderface

Like Nathan, he has also gotten into online debates about whether or not Ghost is metal — except he takes the opposite position of Nathan. Ghost is metal as fuck to him. Listen, you don’t go on stage in front of that many people, make fun of God and everyone who worships him, and come out not being metal. Like the Satanism bit is whatever, but having the balls to go and make fun of that many people on stage? Metal.

He thought the old outfits were really boring, but he is nothing short of obsessed with Era V — for both you and Papa alike. He desperately wants a replica of Papa’s military jacket.

His favorite album overall is probably Infestissumam, but he’s also partial to Opus Eponymous. He’s been begging you to get talk Trickery Feet into getting Idolatrine on the setlist since you got him into Ghost — hell, if he ever gets the motivation to actually record Planet Piss, he’d love to do a cover of it.

Although his favorite songs to see live are probably either Mummy Dust or — after the LA show — Twenties. Twenties slides in very quick as his number one after the LA show.

He gets into arguments online about your characterization in fandom spaces, I’m sorry. He does indeed read fanfic, and he will be leaving “they would not fucking say that” comments.

He likes to banter back and forth at night about what your role would be in the clergy if you know, the whole bit was real. For someone who doesn’t give a fuck about religion, he actually puts a lot of thought into this.

[potol0ver]

Ask; Hello, I read you have your request open, and I really like how you write about Erik. So, if you feel in the mood, I like some scenario (GN or AFAB) in which y/n starts to work ato Opera House like an skilled effect artist and one night, when y/n finally has some time free and alone, Erik found her playing something like ROxxanne tango with the cello, because she play it but only for herself.

Tags; Fluff, GN reader (you and yours),

A/N; Hey, I’ve been silent for a while and I’m sorry for that. I wasn’t motivated to post any fics and was in writers block. Now I need to focus on my health because a serious health concern has come up for me, so I apologize for continuing to be radio silent. I’m a little out of it while I’m writing this so I’m sorry, Please injoy this fic, it will most likely be the last for a while. (You may continue sending asks just be warned I might not be able to get to it for a couple of reasons.)

With a heavy sigh you put aside your art peice, a stage mask that just wasn’t holding up to your standards. You’ve painted over your dried paint and wiped it off to many times to count already. Your hands had become shaky long ago as you sit at your desk that was in an obscure corner of the Opera house.

You push your chair back that gave a screech and sluggishly walked back to your small room in the Opera house. Thankfully it looks like none of your roommates are in the room which means you can properly relax and wind down. Most importantly in your mind, it means you can practice your cello without disturbing anyone.

Quickly you set up your space, adjusting your chair, setting up your music stand, making sure your bow has enough rosin. Flipping to your favorite cello peice you take a breath and start playing. Letting your fingers and how move on the strings fluently, you we’re getting entranced by your cello. Unknown to you, you weren’t the only one being entranced.

Somewhere deep in the Opera house, the Phantom can hear your playing faintly thanks to the echoing of the monumental walls. Intrigued, Erik quietly yet softly made his way to you until he could hear you clearly. Leaning against a wall he let his eyes shut and get wrapping up in your music, loving where you crescendoed and adding your own flare.

When you got to the end of the piece and pause your playing to find another to play, he finally peeked a look at you. He thought you would’ve been apart if the orchestra, but he didn’t recognize you, it also looked your your cello while well kept, was quite old to. Erik became very fascinated by you now, he started by “testing” you. Slipping new and harder pieces for you to try, and if you did play them he’d be happily surprised with how well you make the notes come to life.

Next, after you passed his “test”, he worked hard to see if he can find you a proper newer cello. Only the best for his new found talent, that day by day he was slowly falling for. The more he became infatuated with you he got more determined to find a cello to match your one of a kind soul.

After a while he did find a very good cello, a one of a kind, just for you. So, Erik made quick work to insure it’s yours. He personally polished and cleaned it, making sure no scratches were on the instrument. While you were working hard at your props job for the play, he made diligent work to set up the present in your new room. That of course was also a present from him. How could he let his musical muse share a room with a bunch of strangers?

Leaning the cello against the bedside table he placed a rose and a note next to it. Despite watching you for so long and being so devoted to you, he never got to the courage to say anything to you. Hopefully the grand presents will be a good first impression.

Groggily you walk back to your room, only to be told you don’t sleep there any more. Which after the long day you had of making props wasn’t good for your anxiety. As you followed the directions to your new room, you think about how you could’ve gotten on the bad side of someone to get an even more run down place to sleep in than what you have already had.

All of those thoughts quickly got washed away when you opened the door to your new room. It had everything you needed to live alone, a small kitchen/living room, a nice bedroom with a decent sized closet, even a space to practice your cello. You were so stunned at what you did to deserve this new room that you didn’t question how everything you own was already there.

Quickly, your eyes caught the sight of the luxurious cello next to your new bed. Gently you caressed it, looking over all of the fine details, it looked like a masterpiece that was specifically catered to you. The red rose next to the cello caught your eye next, along with the letter that had a skull stamp.

Carefully opening the letter you scanned the words, a mixture of your emotions sitting in your stomach as you read.

“My dear, I have heard you playing for a while now, and I must say the way you make the notes come to life is hauntingly stunning. You have caught my interest in the best way.

I know you haven’t seen me or heard me before, which is why I hope your new room and house warming gifts are a good first impression. If you wish, I can also arrange a seat for you in the opera’s orchestra so you don’t have to continue working in the messy arts department.

P.S. If it’s not to much to ask, I would like to hear back from you, so please consider us to be pen pals now. Also, if you ever need a quiet place to practice you can always come to my lair to whine down, maybe that way we can play music together.

~Yours devotedly O.G.”

A single thought ran through your mind as a mixture of unease and swooning butterflies ran through you…

What have you gotten yourself into?

[whatmitskisongarethey]

next up is homura and madoka! usually I wouldn’t do two characters in one post but this song is so painfully them.

I’ve assigned them Two Slow Dancers.

Keep in mind, I’ve only watched the show! I haven’t seen any of the movies or anything - this analysis is based off what I know from PMMM. As always, heavy spoilers for this media!!!

The song itself sounds devastating and kind of reminds me of the buildup in the show. It starts off with that (synthetic piano?) instrument with a simple pattern and mitski’s singing. but after the first part, that violin-like synth comes in, and oh, there are the tears!!! the sound of this synth reminds me so much of the later episodes when everything feels spacy, otherworldly… and oddly terrifying as we learn more and more about kyubeys goals, and what becoming a magical girl really means. There’s this dreadfully beautiful wining synth noise that gets loudest around 3:10, and combined with all the other aspects of the song, it just reminds me of the show so much. additionally, the songs diverse sounds remind me a lot of the varying artstyles in madoka.

ANYWAYS.. That was a bit of a ramble. onto lyrical analysis!!

The first five lines “does it smell like a school gymnasium in here / It’s funny how they’re all the same / It’s funny how you always remember / And we’ve done it all a hundred times before / it’s funny how I still forgot”

This is LITERALLY homura using her powers to rewind the timelines and try to save madoka. and madokas like… ‘you’ve done this a hundred times. we’re back in the school. it’s funny how you always remember me and I always forget you.’

It’s funny how they’re all the same. how every timeline has the same ending no matter what homura does. She’ll try and try forever and ever until the end of time and it’ll ALWAYS be the same, madoka will always end up making that deal with kyubey. LOL!!

“It would be a hundred times easier / If we were young again” The repetition of “a hundred times” again being a callback to the inevitability of madokas ending, but also

“If we were young again” if we hadn’t made that life-altering deal at fourteen. If we got to be young, to have normal childhoods.

“We’re two slow dancers, last ones out” they are, quite literally, the last ones out. the last ones to die / become witches.

“To think that we could stay the same”

It’s kind of inevitable that they couldn’t stay the same people. either homura stayed in that constant rewinding-time-loop, loosing herself, or madoka makes her wish and becomes a god. either way, they don’t know eachother fully anymore. homura starts to doubt if madoka ever really existed, and in the timelines madoka forgets homura every new meeting. they can’t stay the same.

My second and third choices for these two:

this was a hard one because I wanted to do them justice - hopefully I did alright! reminder that my asks are always open if you want to request a character!

also just as a side note, apologies if there are any grammar or spelling errors I’m sick rn and I’m kinda out of it lol

[declanlikesmusic]

never got into vaporwave probably, what projects should i listen to for an introduction??

I always love this question. Finding the best primers to the whole of the vaporwave landscape and introducing new people to them is one of the many things with this genre that I just find so fun. I'm going to try to be as succinct as I can, but I am going to shoutout a lot, specifically twelve, so go ahead and take your time with these.

Macintosh Plus – Floral Shoppe (2011)

The biggest vaporwave album of all time. I will tell you now that this album is by no means perfect, it has quite a mixed reputation among fans & outsiders of the genre, but this is the album to single-handedly define the genre's core ethos in such a highly-concentrated way. If nothing else, this should give you a taste of what inspires and influences the genre most.

Chuck Person's Eccojams Vol. 1 (2010)

By all accounts, this is the very first vaporwave album and to this day, nothing sounds quite like it. A classic array of disorienting, hazy & psychedelic loops of old popular songs that still sound fresh and wholly enveloping.

猫 シ Corp. – HIRAETH (2014)

This one here is to help people gain a better understanding of what your typical standard vaporwave album often sounds like. It's quite varied in a number of subtly different styles & approaches to traditional vaporwave with some ambiance sprinkled in as well.

SAINT PEPSI – Hit Vibes (2013)

Now we're getting into the individual subgenres of vaporwave and while there's a few traditional vaporwave tunes sprinkled in here for variety, this album birthed & defined the genre of future funk with some of the best dance bangers you'll find in the scene. Lots of classy tunes on here, it's an absolute jam.

Blank Banshee – Blank Banshee 0 (2012)

Up to this point, every album I've shared has been intensely sample-based. This album still carries some samples, but it has original beats & synths to establish another subgenre known as vaportrap. It's a great beat tape with some classic tunes and I also recommend its sequel too, which is my favourite vapor album of all time.

ESPRIT 空想 – virtua.zip (2014)

Carrying on from the last album, this one almost doesn't use samples at all and when it does, it's usually an extra sound or instrument at most. I'm putting this here to establish that even basic vaporwave can be crafted from original compositions and the results are short but great.

t e l e p a t h テレパシー能力者 – 現実を超えて (2014)

What makes vaporwave the way it is and not like any other genre adjacent to it is its intensely heavy focuses on atmosphere more than anything else. So naturally, you're going to see a lot of bridges to ambient music. This first example is the subgenre of slushwave, which crafts the same excellent vaporwave tunes, but additionally filters them through such a wash of effects that transform them into psychedelic & blissful dreamscapes.

식료품groceries – 슈퍼마켓Yes! We're Open (2014)

The next subgenre in this vein is mallsoft, which answers the question of vaporwave being set in the tall & wide spaces of shopping centres by placing relaxing tunes in pools of reverb and letting them sprawl from the loudspeakers of the area's corners. This album is the first big one to establish that with a unique setting and gorgeous sample choices.

2814 – 新しい日の誕生 (2015)

The last of these ambient subgenres is dreampunk, which is a lot like vaportrap in that it heavily relies on its own compositions with very few samples while still retaining the genre's focus on nostalgia, this time set in the melancholic & rainy nights of the urban city through what is at least the second biggest album in the entire genre.

death's dynamic shroud – I'll Try Living Like This (2015)

I'm gonna end this list with a few of the genre's weirdest corners. Vaporwave is constantly wide open to new & unique ways of experimentation and this album stands as the best example of that. Wholly unique aesthetic choices, completely innovative sampling techniques and an overall opus of incredibly strange, surreal & psydchedelic soundscapes.

Infinity Frequencies – Computer Death (2013)

After that, I'll close this list with two examples of an abstract subgenre known by two names. They're synonymous to the greater community & world of music, but I see them as two different approaches. They're both defined by the creation of intensely haunting, isolated & eerie loops of mysterious soundbites extracted from the likes of television & radio. Signalwave is what I use to describe the more accessible & musical end of that sound and this start of a trilogy is the best example for it.

░▒▓新しいデラックスライフ▓▒░ – ▣世界から解放され▣ (2012)

On the other hand, I will leave you with what I consider to be the most divisive vaporwave record of all time. This album defines what is more commonly known as broken transmission and it is much more obtuse, glitchy, dark & surreal to listen to depending on the album. You're going to listen to this and either love it, hate it or sit inbetween. People have taken it as a joke while others view it as a work of art. Approach this one at your own discretion.

That's it! Those are the first 12 vaporwave albums that I will almost always recommend every single one of you to check out first. The greater landscape of vaporwave doesn't start & end with these albums, but instead, they give you the best surface level primer to help dip your toes in to such an amazing genre of music.

[inkblot-mirror]

Pomefiore Dorm Headcanons:

-Lights out at 9pm. Period.

-Like Diasomnia, which is also an on old castle, Pomefiore has many hidden nooks and shortcuts and passageways, all of which Rook discovered and committed to memory the first day he transferred. It’s also how he gets around the place so quickly and pops up most unexpectedly, still giving even older students a scare.

-Students quickly learn not to sneak junk food and other forbidden snacks and stuff into their rooms because Vil always. Finds. Out. (It’s Rook—nothing ever gets past him)

-As Epel demonstrated, a common punishment in the dorm is cleaning: washing and wiping all the windows by hand, dusting the vases, sweeping the rugs and mopping the hallways and making sure everything is absolutely spotless. Without magic (it’s to build character ofc).

-The beautiful gardens and apple orchards outside are perfect for afternoon tea. Vil has, on more than one occasion, hosted a photoshoot in the gardens.

-Said apples in the orchards are also cursed to make whoever eats them violently ill. As a result the garden remains picturesque and pretty.

-Peacocks roam freely outside. They are surprisingly aggressive to outsiders.

-Entire dorm smells like fancy flowers and floral perfume.

-While not an official club on campus, but some Pomefiore students have made their own fashion design club. They hold fashion shows, showcasing their own creations every so often and Vil always attends.

-Has a potions lab in the basement where the housewarden duel is held.

-Mandatory ballroom dancing lessons! Pomefiore has three ballrooms in total.

-There’s a big white grand piano in the lounge that no one is allowed to play.

-Decently insulated, not too hot or cold, since both are bad for your skin.

-Lot and lots of stairs! Also easy to get lost in.

-Vil (and Rook) had to teach all the first years how to put their dorm uniform on properly.

- Lots of movie nights in the lounge. If one of Vil’s movies are being played, he expects full critique (and praise) afterwards.

-Vil is more accommodating towards beastman students with wings, tails, fur, and or ears that need more specialized care or attention.

-Kitchen is stocked only with healthy snacks and artesian bottled water.

——————

Scarabia Dorm Headcanons:

-So. Many. Parties. Parties to kick off the start of the school year, parties at the end of the week, parties to celebrate end of the semester, parties for the sake of partying.

-Second to Octavinelle, the dorm has lots of musically inclined students. One can hear lots of musical instruments being played day and night, such as the sitar, flute, oud, tamborine, or drum.

-Merfolk students like to cool off in the oasis or the courtyard fountain. This environment isn’t exactly the best for them… good thing there aren’t alot of them in Scarabia in the first place.

-Sand everywhere!!!!!! Even with magic, sand still finds a way to slip in. I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.

-Occasionally there are powerful sandstorms outside.

-Even rarer is when it rains (without use of Kalim’s UM)—when it does, everyone dashes outside to dance and sing in the rain with joy (everyone minus Jamil)

-Dorm is home to Kalim’s menagerie of exotic wild animals allowed to roam freely: tigers, monkeys, camels, parrots, etc…

-They’re all tame (mostly), but you can still occasionally see Jamil and a student or two wrangling a monkey or chasing after a runaway pony.

-It’s nearly bug free for the most part (thanks Jamil!) but you can still find the lone scorpion or snake hiding in the corners.

-First thing new students are taught is to always always always double check and empty your shoes and clothes first before putting them on.

-Entire dorm smells of incense and spices and exotic perfumes. It’s very heavy on the senses.

-Very dry and hot as one would expect! Its gets chillier at night, but not by much.

-Students help out Jamil with the cooking. It’s a communal event, and recipes and stories are often swapped.

-Before Kalim, Scarabia was a pretty studious and academic dorm. Now they have a reputation as the party animals of NRC and curious students from other dorms like to sneak into their many parties or banquets. Not like Kalim minds: the more, the merrier!

-DONT TOUCH JAMIL’s SPICES!

[fob4ever]

patrick stump & neal avron on tape notes podcast (12.15.23)

songwriting stuff, demos, lyric process, a bunch of things! they talk about the songs lftos, heaven iowa and smfsd.

long summary under the cut!

talked about how they sat outside “emo” because they leaned more towards hiphop/rnb, but also how they didn’t fit in the “pop” genre too and how they would be put on pop shows and “comparatively it was like slayer was playing” lmao “but we’re still a pop band!”

they experimented with reggae and 90s shoegaze and hardcore during the pandemic

they recorded most of stardust together in neal’s house :D at the beginning it was mostly just neal and patrick working together, at the end of the day everybody would come in to listen

patrick said he got “kinda obsessed” with streamlining pete’s lyrics in the chorus over the past few albums: “pete is very wordy. he has all these ideas that take up a lot of space.” and that their manager sat him down at lunch and said “don't do that. you guys used to ramble. why don't you ramble?” and lftos was the first song patrick put together after that convo

lftos writing process: patrick followed what he was feeling, and most of what he did in that song were things that years spent working in pop music had scared him off on doing.

the “every lover's got a little dagger in their hand” lyric tied it all together for patrick: “[i was] singing that line and EAGERLY emailing neal: listen to this!”

they play a little of the lftos demo (16:55). it's wild. VERY guitar-forward

“neal and i lost most of the demos for [folie a deux].” the burning of the library of alexandria. to me

talks about how the folie demos were infinitely stranger than the final versions, “psychedelic at times”

for stardust, they didn't really keep much of the demo stuff- patrick: “and my demos are pretty decent!”

lftos piano demo (21:35)

patrick: i want some drama. when i look back at our records, our best ones start off with a sense of melodrama

they play individual parts of the lftos instrumentation (31:25), andy's drums, pete's bass, joe's guitar. <3

bridges are patrick's favorite thing to write, because he just gets to play

patrick: "pete doesn't even send lyrics in lyric-form, he just sends words. and it's interesting when you see it- it's almost like one-liner after one-liner. and i'll just get an email of those, and then you kinda have to figure out what thematically goes together, what feels like the same song. but then i also try to keep lyrics together as much as possible, because i feel he's in a place where it does feel like one thought."

"when i read it, there's almost a passive thing where i just imagine what it sounds like to me. and [the lyrics for heaven, iowa] scared me a lot, because it felt kind of sparse, and i don't really like sparse- i don't really like singing by myself. [...] i don't like being so front and center, and i could tell that there was something really intimate about this song, and it was a big challenge for me."

everybody immediately went for the heaven, iowa demo- it's from the first stardust session and it took the longest to complete because patrick wasn't satisfied with just his voice over keys- "it was too naked."

patrick doesn't ask pete about lyrics because: "first off, he will not explain things. but second off, i think there is something to that. where i'll read his lyrics, and i'll interpret it one way, and years later i'll realize it's another way. there's so many double entendres that i've only gotten decades later, i'll be singing and go, 'OH it's a sex thing.'"

patrick really attaches to the story of a lyric, the craft of it, and then years later he'll be like "oh that was a HEAVY lyric. [and] pete must have felt that thing! i don't really question it when i'm writing- it's kindof unfair on him, like, should i check on him?"

heaven iowa instrumental demo/instruments isolated (53:30)

patrick would tell joe to "go nuts" on heaven, iowa!

neal talks about the ambient guitar pedal joe plays during heaven iowa and how it worked really well. patrick says this was the kind of thing that saved (the song).

patrick and andy double drummed at the same time in the studio for heaven iowa! <3

pete told joe to go "full slash" at the end of heaven iowa : )

patrick almost didn't send out the demo for the title track, smfsd! he was almost sure no one was going to like it, even though he liked it. but he sent it out, and it "kept surviving"

both patrick and neal brushed smfsd off because they assumed they "couldn't do that", but pete really pushed for it, which surprised patrick.

so much for stardust demo (1:25:07) patrick plays drums on it, sloppily. which he freely admits to lol. it is quite sloppy indeed

patrick: "i'm a drummer too, but andy and i are very different drummers. and it's very cool translating our things between each other, because he comes from metal (...) and i'm more a funk drummer."

lotsa joe layering in heaven iowa and smfsd : )

it was patrick's idea to do a lyrical callback in lftos/smfsd, and pete was hesitant about it. but patrick pushed for it, becasuse it made sense as "story beats"- "it's like 'empire strikes back'!"

patrick doesn't like to putz around the studio that much, he just wants to be recording something.

patrick: "my routine [during the writing of the album] was just to make it to the studio as on time as i can be- i have adhd, it's very difficult- but i'd be there within 10-15 minutes of when i was supposed to be there, and then we'd just work through it."

patrick's advice: FROM ELTON JOHN: when you find your producer that understands you, stick with them. patrick: "and that was on a record we didn't do with neal, and i remember thinking [makes unsure noises]..." also prioritize in the short-term, what's important. take a step back.

neal's advice: if music is your passion, do it, and do it all the time

patrick was afraid people wouldn't like him "rambling" in songs, even though it was honest and natural to him. he was terrified of doing it again, thinking people wouldn't like it. but people did! "don't subvert yourself too much."

the host asks for them to choose a stardust song to close out the podcast, and patrick chooses what a time to be alive :)

the end

[gayciate]

🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!!!

I have to post some Encanto Monster AU Headcanon jumpscare right now!!!!! Not everyone, but a few of them!

Isabela - Werewolf (Or, Werejaguar rather) + OK OK OK Hear me out on this one, see my vision????? Most of the time, she looks largely normal with "cute" features that many find appealing like the little kitty ears, fangs, and tail + BUT were-jaguar form is absolutely shit your pants terrifying horrific, something she was made to feel ashamed of for its wildness and unattractiveness + Spends pre-movie full moons fully barricaded in her locked room, tangled up in her own vines to keep herself contained - everything she bottles up comes out and is entirely out of control, her wild side is trying sososo hard to get out and she's literally, physically restraining it + Always ends up with an absolutely shredded room the night after the moon, snaps at anyone who ever mentions it or attempts to help her out + Post-movie after she comes to accept every part of herself and grow into her own, she starts to gain control over the beast form and spend more time in it willingly, no longer ashamed of looking "ugly" or acting as anything less than perfect

Luisa - Gargoyle + A powerful stone guardian that guards the family home restlessly + She doesn't actually need to sleep, but does go into a dormant "statue" state when exposed to direct sunlight. + Incredibly physically sturdy but not immune to damage. She can crack and break, though her pieces can be put back in place if they fall + It is debatable if she can feel pain in the same way more flesh-based beings can. She does not need to eat or breathe and cannot drown + While she has wings, she is too heavy to properly fly and uses them more to shield others from danger or glide short distances

Mirabel - Satyr + A real silly billy, she's got the fuzzy legs of a goat and little tiny horns under her hair + She's very musically inclined and can play several different instruments. She's creative, clever, and loves to frolic in the sun! + Her charisma stat is absolutely off the charts, others often find it very easy to relax around her as her monster species is not particularly threatening or associated with danger + Often faces underestimation and struggles with not being taken seriously. Her lack of scariness coupled with her inhuman nature can be a cause of direct bullying that more threatening monsters may not have to deal with.

Dolores - Vampire + Oppoisite Isabela, she's a little withdrawn and shy, probably has big ole' sensitive bat ears with perfect pitch detection + Veeeery sensitive to light and sound, she enjoys the quiet of night and often sleeps during the day + She can turn into a little bat and flutter around, but sometimes forgets she's easy to miss like that and jumpscares people who thought they were alone in a room + She's capable of sitting in complete silence for extended periods of time and is extremely patient. Her night-vision is impeccable. + Rumors have spread that she can read minds and has some psychic abilities, but these are entirely unfounded. She's just perceptive and very nosey.

Camilo - Changeling + A funky fey dude, taken in as a baby by Pepa and Félix when he was found abandoned in the wood + He's strongly attuned to magic in the environment and specializes in illusionist tricks + He has pointy ears, sharp teeth, and unnatural eyes that reflect light in the dark but shifts to a more human look most of the time to blend in with others + Quietly a little insecure about what he really is when he looks in the mirror without a disguise but tries not to dwell on it for too long

Antonio - Chimera + A strange little mix of creatures, he's got the upper half of a human with the lower half of a jaguar. He's also got the wings of an Andean condor, ears of a tapir, and an anaconda's tail! + The little dude climbs, flies, and swims - he's an ATV with endless energy who loves to shove himself into tight spaces to explore + Outgoing and a bit wild, he easily befriends other animals but sometimes finds people wary of him. He is very careful with his claws and fangs, but parents sometimes worry that he'll play too rough and hurt their kids. This makes him very sad! + Incredibly intelligent and inquisitive, he is active for long periods of time before collapsing into a nap and restarting the cycle

Bonus Augustín & Julieta - Headless horseman and Parrot Harpy I think Augustín would be like the headless horseman and constantly (literally) lose his head and Julieta would be a parrot harpy with colorful, blue plumage - incredibly intelligent and caring for her kids

[shina913]

On Tilt, Part 6 | KNJ

On Tilt, Part 6

Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.

On Tilt Masterlist

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: idol!AU; strangers-to-FWB-to-lovers; toxic relationship; angst; fluff; smut

Warnings: cussing; dirty talk; neck kisses; heavy petting; nipple play; clit play; body worship; oral (mutual); protected sex; switch!Namjoon; switch!reader

Word count: 5.6K+ words

Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?

A/N: It's been a long time! If you're still following along, thank you for being patient! I hope to write more frequently. I haven't been inspired to finish much of my wips but I hope you'll enjoy this chapter! I've missed these two.

"I don't know... I think the second half of it seems..." Namjoon sighs, trying to think of an adjective. "Lame?"

"I don't think so," Jon, his co-producer, disagrees.

“Are you sure? I feel like we should add more to it. My vocals sound kind of flat.”

Namjoon, despite having 1,001 tasks to complete before his album release, had also agreed to do a feature verse on a track for one of his industry friends. He sits in one corner of the room, his gaze fixed on the large screen displaying multiple layers of squiggly waves that represent the various instrumental and vocal tracks he’s recorded.

Jon has worked with him long enough to know when he’s actually giving notes or just being nitpicky.

“Your vocals are fine,” he says reassuringly. “Your verse is perfect–it really fits the song!”

Namjoon sighs heavily, still feeling some apprehension. His phone buzzes and he glances at it to read a text message. “Ah, good. He’s on his way. Maybe he can give me some input on this. He’s got a great ear for these kind of things.”

“Ouch, bro,” Jon feigns offense as he cleans up the track layers some more.

Namjoon turns apologetic immediately. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that we’ve been at this for a few weeks and I just want to get a different perspective?”

A minute later, the door to his studio opens, and in comes Yoongi.

"Hey, you got here fast!" Namjoon greets Yoongi. Yoongi nods in acknowledgment. "I was already on this floor when you texted, so I thought I'd swing by before my next appointment. What's up?"

Namjoon motions for Jon to play the track for Yoongi. He observes his teammate and frequent co-producer tilt his head to the side and close his eyes. He always does this when he wants to analyze the track by ear.

Once the track ends, Namjoon anticipates his comments.

“Can you try it without the cymbals in the bridge and drop the echo off the doubling track?”

Jon nods, clicks on a few functions, and plays the song according to Yoongi's notes. Hearing the track with the new modifications, Yoongi and Namjoon make eye contact. They both nod their heads enthusiastically to the beat. No other words are exchanged, but the smiles on their faces and the subsequent high-five provide enough reassurance.

******

“Thanks for the input, hyung. I appreciate it.” Namjoon walks Yoongi out of his studio.

“It’s nothing! We’re still a team even though we’re all off doing our own stuff at the moment.”

Namjoon silently agrees, then raises a hand to rub his eyes while trying to suppress a yawn. They pause for a moment, standing in front of each other in the quiet hallway.

“Tired?”

"I've accepted my fate of being tired forever," Namjoon laughs wryly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know why I assumed that completing my album would bring me some relief and relaxation.”

"Ah, it'll pass." To a stranger, his deadpan tone might sound insincere, but Namjoon knows that he means it in a consoling manner. "Are you excited about your launch party?”

“Yeah, I am. And I’m taking YN with me!” There was a sense of pride and comfort in the way he said it.

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Are you?”

“You think it’s a bad idea?”

Yoongi shakes his head and smiles. “Not in the least bit. Have you told PD-nim?”

Namjoon nods. “He was cool with it. She’ll be there as my guest but we agreed that her presence there isn’t an ‘announcement’ or anything like that. Still, I’m confident that we’ll be safe since she and I will be interacting out in the open instead of sneaking around.”

It was simple logic. Photos weren’t worth much to tabloids if they were professionally taken with the subject’s consent.

Yoongi laughs at the rationale but he can’t deny that his friend makes a good point. “I’m glad you’ve got something worked out. And she’s okay with all that?”

Namjoon’s head tilts slightly and his shoulders shrug. “Apprehensive at first but I let her know that the front office was supportive so that helped convince her and made her feel safe about going.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows rose and his lips twitch upon hearing his last comment but he caught himself and managed to force a smile. “Good. That’s…good. I’m really glad to hear that.” It wasn’t fair to project his personal grievances with management toward his friend.

Realizing his misstep, his excitement is replaced with a pang of guilt. “Shit, I’m sorry, hyung,” he grimaces. “I didn’t mean to come off insensitive, especially after what happened to–”

Yoongi cuts him off. “Nah, don’t feel guilty about it. I’m happy that you’re happy. I’m glad that you have someone who supports you and that you’ve found ways to compromise.” His sober expression makes Namjoon’s face falter.

It hasn’t been long since Yoongi and his partner split up. It was a few weeks before the hiatus announcement but by then, they’d had enough and decided to move onto separate ways.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t figure out a middle ground between the label and–”

Yoongi waves his hand in mid-air to stop Namjoon from bringing up something that is still fresh in his mind. There was a time and place to be vulnerable but this moment wasn’t it. “S’okay. We tried…for a long time…” He sighs and finishes with a shrug, effectively dropping the subject.

“Anyway, speaking of PD-nim, what did you think of last week’s contract meeting?” Yoongi asks to shift the focus away from him. “Have you thought about what you wanted to do for the next year?”

Namjoon exhales and confidently answers, “Yep. I’m taking the option for the longer hiatus.”

A few weeks ago, the label held a meeting with all team members, offering different paths for their careers. They could either continue pursuing solo activities or 'take a break' by having a more flexible schedule and the option to choose the projects they want to participate in.

“Wow. Really? Even with all of the offers to collaborate?” Yoongi bulges his eyes out at his friend knowingly.

Two years ago, Namjoon would have been tripping over his feet if he ever got a call from his idols for a dream collaboration. Now that the group has hit record-breaking fame in the world stage, each member’s time was in high demand.

“I did that one song last summer with my idol and crossed that off my bucket list. I don’t need to be greedy by entertaining every request,” he laughs. “It’s also an opportunity for me to take a break and find a new sound.”

Although Namjoon's new album has not been released yet, Yoongi does not argue because he understands that as an artist, one needs to constantly evolve. As soon as you finish one project, you should already be in the midst of planning the next one.

“That’s fair,” Yoongi concedes. “Was this decision influenced by a certain someone?”

“Yes and no,” Namjoon admits. “She’s a factor but it's my own decision. It’s what’s best for me…for us. I owe it to her.”

“Is she collecting a debt?”

Namjoon laughs. “No, no. She didn’t say that. In fact, I haven’t told her that we had that meeting. All I know is that I made a commitment to her and I plan on sticking to it. Walk the walk, you know?”

“I guess it’s good that she didn’t talk you into it. The last thing you want is to make hasty, emotional decisions then regret them later.”

“Hyung, I swear I’m not being hasty or emotional about this.”

“Alright,” Yoongi relents. “Just saying, I’d hate for you to feel regret or resentment if things don’t pan out.”

The truth was, Namjoon had that thought buried in the far corner of his mind, but he wouldn't let it deter him. He believed that fate brought the two of you back together and he was determined to do everything he could to make the best out of this second chance. Things will work out this time.

They have to.

You're in a rush to send out two more emails before the holiday weekend. These emails are crucial for sealing the deals for two of your clients. One has received interest from a film production company that wants to buy the rights to their novel and turn it into a movie. The other client is preparing for wider distribution after self-publishing the first edition of their book.

Your phone starts to buzz after you send off one email.

“Hey, I just got here. Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up?” Namjoon walks through your front door then pockets his keys, which include a copy of your house keys. It was a huge step for you and your relationship.

He was bringing food from the restaurant that you two were supposed to have dinner at. But after a client call ran long and a few other last-minute tasks piled up, you asked if you could reschedule. Instead, he was insistent and completely fine with the idea of spending the night in.

“I’m sure. I drove so I have to bring my car home anyway.”

“But you could leave it at the garage and I can have my manager pick it up tomorrow.”

You laugh at his offer. He just really wanted you home. “Why don’t you let the man enjoy a decent weekend off, for once?”

“Alright,” he relents. “I’ll be here waiting. I’ve got wine chilling in the fridge and pasta and chicken, just like you asked.”

You acknowledge all the effort he’s putting in. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week but he was still determined to spend time with you. Still, you take the opportunity to tease him. “You know that kind of behavior will get you laid.”

“Look, I don’t really care if anything happens tonight,” he says simply. “I only wanted to bring dinner and be with you.”

“Mm-hm,” you hum in amusement. “What kind of pasta did you get?” You ask him as a test.

He answers with your favorite. It’s been so long and yet he still knew. “That’s it! I’m getting on my knees as soon as I walk through the door!”

A low laugh escapes him. “Not if I get you on your back first.”

His response makes you want to log off this second and rush home to him. 

Unfortunately, even if you leave the office, you still need to continue working from home. However, you would rather put 100% of your focus on him. So, you decide to stay until you finish everything.

Two hours later, you walk through the door. The room is dark and quiet, with the only light coming from the television. Namjoon is snoring in the living room.

He stirs when you brush his hair back to kiss his forehead from behind the couch.

"Hi," he says, his lips curving into a languid smile as he blinks his eyes open.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"It's cool." He stretches his arms and sits up. "Have you eaten?"

"No. Have you?" You ask him.

He shakes his head as well. "I'll heat up the food in the oven—"

"No, let’s go to bed so you can go back to sleep," you suggest. It's been a long day and fatigue is setting in. However, Namjoon gets up from the couch, shakes his head adamantly, and laughs. "You know that I know that there's no way you'll have a good night's sleep while hungry."

Just before you protest, your stomach growls, betraying you. He knows you well enough. With a snort, he takes your hand and guides you to the kitchen.

*******

After dinner and a quick shower for you, you get a second wind and decide to watch some late-night TV. It was a weekend, and Namjoon didn't have to be at the office until late the next evening.

He gazes at the week-old gardenia arrangement that he brought over when you first moved in and wonders aloud, "I'll never understand why you keep holding onto these until they're completely dead. Just throw them away and I'll get you fresh flowers!"

"I like them when they’re in this in-between stage of brown and white. They have a stronger scent and I love it," you explain.

"Yeah, but the aesthetic is—" He clicks his teeth in distaste.

"Forget about the aesthetic! I think it smells romantic," you say confidently.

At first, he furrows his brows at your strange remark. But instead of arguing, he’s endeared. He shakes his head and chuckles, returning his attention to the TV.

You and Namjoon are on the couch, watching old reruns of a show that you've seen many times before. Despite the outdated punchlines, you still find them funny years later. You're sitting sideways while your legs, covered by a throw blanket, rest comfortably on his lap. Instead of watching the show with him, your gaze is fixed on his profile. At the sound of a joke you both had heard before, he still lets out a guffaw, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement as if hearing it for the very first time. His laughter makes your heart swell so much that it feels as if you could float away.

At that moment, as his laughs subside and the scent of wilted gardenias fills the room, you utter, "I love you." You can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He slowly turns his head to face you, his eyes searching yours. After a few beats that feel like an eternity, he says, "Say that again."

Suddenly feeling shy, you giggle like a schoolgirl and attempt to hide under your blanket, but he pulls it off, revealing your flushed cheeks.

"Please say it again," he says, grinning and patiently waiting.

You take a deep breath, savoring the moment. You purse your lips for a few seconds, then smile back at him. "I love you," you say softly, but with conviction.

He throws his head back dramatically, clutching his chest as if he's been shot, before collapsing onto the bed with a theatrical flourish.

Giggling at his antics, you playfully shove his side and tell him, "Stop being so dramatic!"

"I'm not being dramatic! I'm in love," he declares with a sigh.

You’re mildly irritated by his response. “You know, if you’re just going to joke about this—”

Just as you turn serious, he does the same. “I would never joke. Not when it comes to you.”

This was a huge step for both of you and it was the first time you’d actually said the words to each other. Years ago, he used to say that labels and verbal declarations of feelings were ‘superficial’. Anybody can say ‘I love you’ but never really grasp the full weight of it. He was all about ‘showing’ not ‘telling.’

The old you thought that made a lot of sense. It sounded logical. And because you were actually in love with him then, you believed it.

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I want you to know that this is still scary for me. This isn’t like when we were sleeping around at the dorms or hotels. The stakes are higher now."

He turns his body toward you. He cradles your legs with one arm and circles the other around your waist to pull you closer.

“I really fucked things up by not telling you how I felt and ignoring your needs. I was selfish and a coward.”

You shake your head gently at how he was placing all the blame on himself. “We were young and had a lot of growing up to do. Both of us needed that time apart.”

He looks at you with a mix of regret and determination in his eyes. "I recognize that now," he says softly. "And I want to do better and be better for you. Things will be different this time."

His words fill you with hope, and you feel your heart fill with warmth as you realize that he is committed to making things work between you.

The thought of it also turns you on wildly. You lean in and press your lips to his. “Take me to bed,” you whisper.

He pulls back slightly and stares into your eyes. “I’m not saying these things just to get it in,” he chuckles. “Like I said, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want—”

“I know,” you interrupt gently before your lips curve into a smile. “Let me worry about what I want. And what I want, is for us to go to bed.”

Nodding, he switches the TV off and you both walk upstairs into your bedroom.

******

You walk into the room, with him following closely behind. As you turn to face him, he stops in his tracks, cautiously anticipating your next move.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands. He closes his eyes, reveling in your touch. Tilting your chin up, he meets halfway, and seals his mouth to yours. The kiss starts soft and sweet, but quickly builds up to a fever pitch.

Desire surges through you, and he matches your fervor. His fingers grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He groans against your lips, making those low, sexy sounds that you turn you on. Your hands explore his chest, feeling every inch of him. Just as you're about to lose control, he breaks the kiss.

He spins you around, your back pressed against him, caging you while his hand roams all around your front.  You threw your head back in a low moan as he nipped at your neck, grinding his hard cock between your ass cheeks.

He wraps his arms around you and nuzzles your neck. His heavy breaths send shivers down your spine.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispers as his teeth graze your earlobe.

"I wouldn't call it luck," you murmur breathlessly, shifting your head to give him better access to your throat. "...More like a well-deserved outcome," you finish. He runs his nose down the slope of your neck, and you feel him smile against it.

"I'm really trying to control myself," he sighs. "But I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent a lot of time fantasizing about how this evening would go."

You release a pained groan, squirming as he lazily sucks on your neck. "Tell me," you say.

He pauses his ministrations, giving you a chance to break away and turn to face him.

“Tell me about your fantasies,” you say to him.

Namjoon teasingly swipes his tongue between his lips and leans forward. “I can tell you and show you.”

In anticipation, your chest rises as you inhale sharply and bite your lower lip. It was all the consent he needed.

"First of all, you're wearing too many clothes," he smirks.

You reach for the hem of your sleep shirt, intending to pull it off, but he stops you. He gently wags his finger and tuts. "In my fantasy, I do all the work."

You release the material and relinquish control to him. Wrapping his arms around you, he repeats your earlier action and pulls your shirt up. You lift your arms above your head, allowing him to easily slip it off you. As he leans in, you anticipate a kiss, but he surprises you by tossing you over his shoulder.

He walks across the room, and his hand reaches down to tug on your panties, pulling them below the curve of your ass. You yelp as he spanks you hard enough to sting.

He sits you down on the mattress and crouches in front of you. As he pulls your panties past your bare feet, he asks, “Are you good, baby?”

“Yeah.” You smile and touch his cheek. The moment of tenderness makes your heartbeat stutter as if he wasn’t just about to ravish you seconds later.

He nods and flashes a dimple before he picks up where he left off.

He plants a soft kiss on your inner thigh. “Are you ready for me?”

You arch an eyebrow at him in response. “The better question is, are you ready for me?”

You let out another squeal when Namjoon jerks your hips to the very edge of the bed with your legs on either side of him, exposing your center to his gaze.

“You’re going to be sorry you said that.”

You pushed at his shoulder, challenging him. “Teach me a lesson, then.”

He presses your thighs wide with gentle hands, his thumb stroking over your clit, pleasure pulsing through you.

He lowers his voice to a dangerously low tone. “You know, I’m trying to set the pace here but you’re no help.” He gets some revenge when he pulls his shirt over his head.

“You know I can take it,” you say as evenly as possible while trying not to drool over the sight of his bare chest.

“I know you can,” he murmurs. “But I want this to last a while.” Your stomach tightens when he lowers his head. As soon as his tongue licks through your folds, you grasp desperately at the sheets beneath you and fall back onto the mattress. He parts you with his fingers, teasing your sensitive flesh while you keen and writhe in pleasure.

“I’ve imagined this so many different ways,” he purred, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. Your hips buck but he holds you firmly down.

“On my bed.” He sucks. “In my studio.” And licks.

“In the back room of the restaurant that I took you to on our first date after we had the no-sex conversation.”

“God. Namjoon,” You moan pathetically, dizzy at the sight of him savoring you.

“I imagine pinning you down,” he went on roughly, “Giving it to you all night…your nipples swollen from me sucking on them. The room filled with all those sexy sounds you do…when I make you cum over and over…” He gives your clit one long suction.

You whimper, biting your lip as he flutters his tongue. He has one of your legs hooked over his bare shoulder. The heat from his skin burns the flesh behind your knee.

“Yes, I want all that,” Your hands roam over your breasts, pinching at your aching nipples for relief.

He grins mischievously. “I know.” He continues to suck on your bundle of nerves, teasing you relentlessly as your climax builds up further. With his lips still wrapped around your clit, he slides two fingers into your soaked opening, curling them upward to massage your inner walls.

You gasp sharply at the assault when he pumps into you. Hips moving of their own volition, grinding into his greedy mouth.

You climax with a breathless cry, your legs shaking with the rush of release after months of pent-up tension between you.

You were still coming down from your high when his body loomed over you. He shoves his bottoms down just enough to free his cock.

You watch as he carefully slips a condom down his length. Wanting to feel him in your hands, you attempt to reach for it, but he catches you by your wrist. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the inside before pinning your hands above your head.

His eyes studies your face, his lips still glistening from your orgasm, his chest heaving. You blink up at him in wonder and ask yourself, 'how did you get so lucky'?

“I love you,” he pants.

“I love you,” you reply before he slides his length between your folds. He pushes in, parting the slick opening.

He buries his face in your throat with a groan, then surges inside you. He gasps your name, slowly grinding his hips against you, trying to get deeper.

His hips work in a steady rhythm. The feel of him inside you, stretching you, drives you crazy. You shift and wrap your legs around him for leverage and meet his thrusts.

His lips brushed against your temple. “Fuck, you feel so good. I don’t think I can last much longer…but I…I want to—“

He sounded apologetic, but he didn’t need to. Your throat tightens. “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t stop!”

He pulls out, lifts your ass, then thrusts deeply.  You moan helplessly, your cunt squeezing him greedily. “Fuck yes…” you hiss. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He strokes into you and you writhe under him, your thighs grasping his hips. Digging his knees in, he gives you what you begged for and fucks relentlessly into you. His cock plunges deeply, over and over, breathing naughty fantasies into your ear and pushing you closer to another climax.

Your core tenses and your clit throbs with every slam of his hips against yours. He pounds into you, every muscle in his body flexing.

“I’m gonna cum so hard for you,” he strains, sweat sliding down his temple.

The promise of him filling you sets you off, and before you know it, you come undone for him again, your pussy spasming furiously. The obscene sounds of hot, sweaty fucking fills your bedroom while he chases his own climax.

He slows down his movements deliberately, and with one final stroke, you feel him spurting inside of you. Rough sounds of satisfaction rumble from his chest and resonate against your sweat-slicked skin.

He lies there for a moment, his heartbeat gradually slowing to a steady rhythm. When he lifts his head, his fingers run through your hair.

Namjoon cradles your face in his hands and kisses you. “Thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for? You did all the work,” you laugh.

His slow smile showed pure satisfaction. “I’m only grateful for the privilege.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Stop,” you giggle. “You’re just saying that because you’re horny.”

“Nah, I’m love-drunk,” he grins lazily before planting another kiss on your lips. You’re so endeared…as if you couldn’t love him anymore.

He flops on the bed beside you, and you rest a hand on his chest, patting it softly. "By the way, top-tier fantasy," you remark.

Turning to face you, his smile widens and he mischievously squints at you. “Oh, you thought that was it?” He laughs. “We haven’t even gotten through the half of it!”

The thought of being the recipient of Namjoon’s insatiable desire for you sends a flutter of excitement through your body.

******

You are jolted awake by a dream you had. In it, you were falling into a bottomless pit.

Your heart races as you quickly turn your head to the other side of the bed, where Namjoon is sleeping soundly.

You’d been at each other for at least two hours before both of you passed out from exhaustion and fell asleep.

You carefully slide out of bed, trying not to wake him, and make your way to the bathroom.

When you reenter the bedroom, the scene before you takes your breath away. Namjoon is sprawled across your bed, with one arm tossed over his head and the other draped across his chest. When you were shopping for a mattress, it seemed excessive to get one so huge. However, now that you see his feet resting comfortably on the bed instead of dangling off it, it doesn't seem like such a bad investment after all.

God, he was breathtaking. When he was onstage, he exuded an unstoppable force, trained to be the object of many people’s fantasies. And yet, you were the only one who could bring him to his knees.

He shifts as you climb onto the bed. He blinks up at you.

“Hey, come here.” He sounds drowsy, but you find it incredibly sexy.

“I love you,” you say as you lower yourself into his outstretched arms. His warm skin is perfect for snuggling. Seeing him like this makes you want to be close to him, but in a different way.

He kisses you deeply, but you pull away just in time to regain control. “I'm not done with you,” he warns. Despite already going three rounds (that you can recall), he shamelessly craves more. Admittedly, so do you.

You gently place your pointer finger on his lips and shake your head. "It's my turn."

He raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“We spent all night living out your fantasies but didn’t even get to mine. Not fair–that’s not how this relationship is supposed to work,” you pout.

“I’m sorry,” he says sweetly, brushing your cheek with his finger. “What do you want, my love?”

You wrap your legs around his thigh and rub against it, letting him feel that you are already wet for him. The friction makes you moan, as does the promise of being naughty.

You kiss him, press your body against him. “Two things.”

His finger grazes your forehead. “Anything.”

“One, I want to taste you,” you whisper then glance downward at his crotch.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, already into it. “And the second thing?”

This is when you try to hold back your excitement. “You have to be very, very still.”

He’s suddenly puzzled. “Huh?”

“I want you to keep your hands to yourself while I work on you,” you state.

He groans in frustration. “You know that’s impossible–”

“Just trust me!”

Eventually, he acquiesces. “Alright. How do you want me?”

You purse your lips and motion for him to sit up against the headboard, and he obliges. You lift his arms and direct him to hold onto the gaps in the frame.

Next, you grab hold of his boxers' waistband and he lifts his hips to assist you. As you pull them past his feet, you ask, "Are you good, baby?"

“Yes,” he answers with a gentle smirk.

You spread his thighs apart, but before you position yourself between them, you lean forward to give him a kiss. He instinctively embraces you, with one hand pushing into your hair and the other resting on the small of your back, urging you to come closer.

Clearing your throat, you flick your eyes to his hands, giving him a warning look. He smiles, suddenly remembering one of your stipulations, and lets his hands fall to his sides.

You press a light kiss to his lips before moving your mouth across his cheek, down to his throat. Your tongue darts out to lick his golden skin before latching on, causing him to let out a pained growl. You graze him with your teeth, leaving a mark. Rough sounds of pleasure vibrate against your lips.

Pulling back, you admire the bright red bruise you left and giggle triumphantly at your handiwork. “Mine.”

"Yours," he vows with hooded eyes.

"Good answer." Pleased, you continue to move lower, finding and teasing his nipples. You lick over them, around them, then blow. Namjoon hisses and growls at the shot of cool air against his sensitized skin. He resists the temptation to roll you onto your back and pin you to the mattress, but instead, he grips the headboard tighter, his knuckles turning white.

As you make your way down his torso, you feel his entire body tighten with anticipation. When your tongue rims his belly button, his hips jerk up.

If he only knew just how excited you were to see him in this state. You want to reward him for having this much obedience and self-control.

With your hands on his inner thighs, you urge him to spread open wider, giving you room to settle comfortably. Dipping your head, your lips part, and you give his cock a precursory lick.

“Fuuucking…hell…” he growls.

It sends another wave of arousal through you. Wrapping your lips around him, you give him back what he gave you last night. Using only your mouth, you worship him, sucking gently and caressing him with your tongue.

He mutters a mix of curses and praises, feeling both lost and dizzy with pleasure.

You pause for a moment and tease him. “You like that?”

He sits up on his elbows, and looks at you wryly. “No, I hate every second it!”

You laugh then wrap your lips around his tip and hum.

“Aaaahh…fuck me. What the fuck,” he groans at the vibration. You see his eyes roll to the back of his head. “Deeper, please,” he begs.

Since he asked so nicely, you oblige and take him in completely until the tip reaches the back of your throat.

He cries out, his back arching as if he wants to pull away, but you hold onto him with your lips and hands, cupping and massaging, encouraging him to reach the peak of pleasure.

“Fuck…fuck…” he chokes out, fighting every urge to wrap his hand around your nape to control the pace. He knows you’re enjoying this too much and the thought of it sends him into a frenzy. His thighs ached with strain, muscles hardening by the force it took to restrain himself.

You feel his balls tighten and you know he’s close. Hollowing your cheeks, you bob your head at an even pace, swirling your tongue around his length simultaneously.

“Ahh, baby, I’m gonna cum…fuck…”

In the same moment that you pull off, he grunts and spurts right at your chest. You sit up and lean back on your heels, pumping him with your fist to prolong and intensify the sensation. You can feel the contractions against your fingertips, pulsing from his flesh as he lets out a drawn-out groan.

When his body calms down, you release him and move to lay by his side.

After a few beats, he croaks out, "Am I allowed to touch you now?"

With a playful giggle, you give him permission. Finally, his heavy arm shifts, blindly searching to pull you closer. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat gradually steadying against yours as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. Both of you collapse in a tired, satisfied heap, but you loved it.

And you loved him.

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Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @roaminginthenights @serendididy @majamarantha @mrskiminami @joonschocochip @yoongukie-ff @midnightagust

[rikiws]

GANG!

I have one of those silly little moot thingies!

(No pressure you don't have to do it if you don't wanna!)

But! What music you automatically assume your moots listen to😼😼

To me, I imagine you fw brent faiyaz or the arctic monkeys, maybe some Daniel Caesar

Dude how did you know that... I fw Daniel Caesar and Brent Faiyaz HEAVY dawg are you psychic 😨 (Kendrick and Don Toliver TOO THE ENTIRE DAMN. ALBUM SIGH... ALSO KESHI I like too many artists this yap won't end so let me just stop myself) I never really got into the Arctic Monkeys but I still think they're awesome musicians, even if the music doesn't hit for me that much personally

I love this game though thank you for this, forgive me if I get any of you guys horribly wrong I'm a terrible judge of character...also I really like to talk about music so best believe I'll be listing a few songs out and explaining them too, very sorry if its a lot to look at 😭

@sugariricookies : you first ofc. I'd say you'd be into something fresh, I don't want to say cutesy bc its not exactly that but close yk. Beabadoobee FOR SURE and New Jeans too. Glue Song - Beabadoobee : its very quiet coffeeshop meetcute with a ton of flowers involved ykyk Melting - Kali Uchis : honestly any song by her bc CMON. I think it matches what you're like really well, if you don't listen to her much How Sweet - New Jeans : can we bfr this song is so heart emoji and you're also very heart emoji are we making sense

@sungbyhoon : Idk bit I feel like you'd be into something a little darker...? Not maybe something like Alt or Grunge, actually maybe yes if its something like Cade Clair or something, but more like Cigarettes After Sex and Chase Atlantic. Also very chill but less upbeat and more mature sounding I'm so sorry if this makes no sense, Another thing I feel like you'd also judge songs not just on the melody but also the lyrics so: Sunsetz - Cigarettes After Sex : Any song by them man bc they're lyrics are basically always so 🙏🙏🙏 Heavenly - Cigarettes After Sex : "Tell me it's love, tell me it's real" MAN 😢😢 LET ME SEE YA MOVE! - Lumi Athena & Cade Clair : HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT IT'S JUST REALLY GOOD OKAY I'M NOT PROJECTING (I might be)

@copyhanni : hey...😼😼 okay but you're giving me Chase Atlantic, The Weeknd, and Tory Lanez full stop. You'd be more chill but also upbeat?? but like less cute and more roadtrip-with-your-headphones-in-esque: Out of My Mood - brian mantra & gate 문 : I think indie would be up your alley too, esp brian mantra I love him sm Bloody Hands - brian mantra : another one, his songs don't have too much going on I think instrumentally and his tone is AWESOME it's just 🔥🔥 Swim - Chase Atlantic : need I say more the synth and drums are EVERYTHING.

@suneng : okay just because you said you like Sunflower I want to think that you really like Metro and Swae Lee (bc SAME.) Also these songs imo seem really nice to study to, and to me you come off as an academic in a way so I think this fits (STEM girlies 🙏): Too Many Nights - Metro Boomin, Future & Don Toliver : the bass the BASS god I love the bass SO MUCH. I remember being a trap hater when I was like 11 chat I was WRONG. I think you'd fw this honestly I'd say its pretty easy to like and super catchy and just very chill Love me Harder - WOODZ : this is a very bassy music selection I'm gonna be so embarrassed if you don't like bass 😭😭 but the guitar here was life changing I think you'd love this Link up - Metro Boomin, Don Toliver, wow there's a lot of people involved in this one hold up: Afrobeats/Raeggaeton I'm not very sure but its really good sigh...honestly I think any spider-verse soundtracks you'd probably love.

@stariikis : not sure what it is but imo you'd be into maybe something softer ykwim? Def have wave to earth on your playlist somewhere there has to be 👊👊 Kind of similar to riri I'd say something a little calmer ykyk: daisy. - wave to earth : such a good song wave to earth man GOODNESS. I think this is such a perfect song for the vibes you give off The Long Drive - tv room : okay tv room is a little eccentric with the hyperpop and everything but I think this is one of the tamer songs from him, much slower tempo than his usual ones but still super upbeat in a way An Art Gallery Could Never Be As Unique As You - mrld : long name alert 🚨🚨 jokes aside I think you'd be into songs with less synthetic instruments in it instead and this song is perfect for that

@nishiriki : okay I really had to squeeze out the brain juice for this one and its gonna be such a huge stretch but hear me out you sound like you like rap,,, maybe nothing too dark lyrics wise like JID but something sort of playful-ish... okay let me just get the songs out I think i'll make more sense then: Two Tens - Cordae & Anderson .Paak : see like something a little silly but still nice to listen to, like the kind of songs you'd play in the car with your friends, otw to some random place to hang out LOVE. - Kendrick Lamar : again, the entire damn album still has me in a chokehold to this day there's no way. This is def my favourite from them all though (and a huge obsession of mine rn) and I think it matches you really well PICK IT UP - Famous Dex & A$ap Rocky : I was obsessed with this like a few years ago and then that dance challenge came and I got obsessed again. I don't think I've ever seen so many interludes in just one song before and it's so well done like its so goofy oml, no but I'd think you'd be into rap that's a little more upbeat, less serious ykyk ++Blueberry Faygo honorable mention here

chat I may have yapped just a tiny bit...okay but I fs missed a few moots since I haven't interacted with them enough to justify the music they'd be into I think 😭 nah but if you want me to write you in too please let me know bc I'd be more than happy to :)

[hellsw0rth]

Here it is! Doomsday in the style of 1976.

TWO MINUTE PREVIEW. FULL TRACK ON MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL.

I was initially going to come up with a story to explain how the Doomsday scenario could happen in Season 14. Maybe Sarah-Jane was whisked away at the end of The Hand of Fear, as part of a backup plan by the Master and Chancellor Goth, and the Doctor found out about this, and talked with her at the end of The Deadly Assassin using Time Lord technology on Gallifrey.

But I thought it would be better to let you come up with your own ideas to explain how Sarah-Jane could get separated from the Doctor in a parallel universe, and how he managed to communicate with her. Feel free to share your thoughts about how this could happen, in the comments. I'd be very keen to hear how you think it could have worked!

I took inspiration from the soundtrack of The Deadly Assassin to come up with the instruments to use for this. There's heavy woodwind (oboes and bassoon's) and one of the backing instruments is an organ which featured prominently in that story. I tried to balance both authenticity with emotion and nostalgia - a balance I try to strike with most of my remixes. So, before anyone comments "this doesn't completely sound like it's from 1976", this is why. Tracks like this would not have featured in Classic Who, and to strip it down and make it as authentic as possible, much of the emotion and nostalgia would have been removed (in my opinion, anyway) that means it deviates massively from what I'm trying to do.

There are some brilliant creators out there who do an incredible job of making 'era authentic' music. @HudsonMedia and @GeorgeCMusic are two examples of creators who do a phenomenal job of this, and deserve infinitely more praise than they get for their efforts. I admire their work immensely, and would encourage you to subscribe to their channels.

My approach is to echo the nostalgia and emotion attached to the original track while making it sound like it *could* have sounded in the era being channeled. This is done by taking the original track and 'plugging in' the instruments or sounds of the era. My work has been described as "bombastic", "fun", and "emotional", which is what I try to prioritise with my mixes. That's a long winded way of saying that if anyone says 'it doesn't sound like the 70's' that I KNOW!

Also, I know someone is going to comment "this, but the 1960's" or something similar. I'm receptive to suggestions for future releases, but lately the suggestions have been more like a demand or insistence than a suggestion for the future. I've been getting a bit uncomfortable with the degree to which people have been saying 'do this', like they have the right to demand something from me. Like I said, I'm very receptive to suggestions, and several of my releases have been the result of a suggestion, but please don't phrase it in a way that shows you have the right to tell me what to do. I don't claim any monetary reward for this work, and I'm very unlikely to ever start some sort of monetary reward platform for these, for ethical reasons (it's copyrighted music, and I use sheet music and/or MIDI files made by other people). So, this work isn't rewarded by money, and it's something I do in my spare time, both as a therapeutic distraction from a tumultuous personal life, and as procrastination from my PhD. So, please phrase your suggestions a little more respectfully.

Lastly, I wondered about releasing this in July, being the 18th anniversary of Doomsday. But it seemed too far away, and as the Majestic Tale (1970s) is taking a lot longer to work on, I thought this would make for a decent release in the meantime.

Enjoy!

[osamucide]

drunk drivers/killer whales

but if we learn how to live like this maybe we can learn how to start again like a child who's never done wrong

wc: 1.9k

cw: gn!reader, post-dark era, pre-entrance exam, port mafia!reader, alcohol, guns, canon-typical violence, language, angst with happy(ish?) ending, implied relationships/previous relationships, implied depression, dazai-typical suicide mentions

reid: i love him and i love car seat headrest. can be read as a stand alone or part 1 to this. enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

The Port Mafia’s favoritism of big corporations over mom-and-pop businesses might’ve been one of the reasons you cited for staying at one point. Extorting a logo was one thing – holding a gun to the face of an old man running a humble, family-owned and operated enterprise was another.

You’d watched enough people cut off their own pinkies and present the severed protuberance to your boss to know when you were in a place you shouldn’t be, doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Maybe, at another point, you would’ve cited quite liking having all your fingers as a reason for staying.

You weren’t usually in Numazu on business. Actually, you weren’t usually in Numazu ever, but the train headed back up to Yokohama from Shizuoka had been halted for nearly four hours now due to an outage, and you were faced with nothing better to do than open your wallet while you waited. You weren’t worried about money – no, never worried about money – so who could it hurt to barhop a bit, you figured. Whiskey always brought you back a few years, and the world had been looking as bleak as it ever did. The main difference between now and when you first started drinking whiskey was the people you were with. The person, more specifically. Osamu Dazai, to be perfectly exact.

It was a bitch navigating the unfamiliar area under the influence. Bars like beacons of light beckoned you into their warm embrace on your aimless trails around the ward, so you went to them. The only other place you’d really rather have been was asleep in your bed.

You figured you were somewhat of a synesthesiac. A nice buzz always made the lights a little brighter, a little more saturated, and despite the properties of the alcohol, you were sure in your drunkenness that you wouldn’t remember this place so vividly later on if you weren’t swaying with the faint street music. It was instrumental – soft, with a flute in there, but also some electronic noises. It made you feel like you were on a side quest in a video game. Perhaps one that seemed insignificant now, but would be crucial to the conclusion of your plot.

The colors were never quite as bright after he left.

Being drunk with him was a deep, royal blue. Sometimes a bit of red. The overhead lights outside the particular establishment where you stood were sizzling piss-yellow. Same heavy feeling in your stomach, same vague burning in your chest and throat, but the colors looked different.

You stepped in on a stale atmosphere, fuzzy but lively in its own way. High and low tables alike hosted smatterings of bar-goers. All their conversations mumbled into one under the drone of the speakers – now a psychedelic pop tune was your backing track, a grumbling bartender hassling the sole patron on the row of stools the only significant cut-through. No dialogue box for your intoxicated convenience (not that your whirling vision would've served as much of a lens), so you ignored it as you took up a stool of your own, far enough from the one-sided quarrel to remain uninvolved but close enough to draw service.

You ordered your fifth – no, sixth whiskey sour of the night. The analog clock on the wall read 22:23. Still plenty of time to get obliterated, pass out somewhere, wake up to a running train, and get back with a brief report without raising too much suspicion.

You sat pensively. The bartender was back to pestering the guy at the end of the bar. Something about too long of a tab, he was going to call the cops, or something or other. Guy was unresponsive. Head down. Unconscious, maybe. You turned your head. How far had the poor motherfucker run up his tab? Could you cover it? You were a mafioso (one whose rank had been greatly discounted since the disappearance of that particular someone) but you weren’t heartless, nor were you above helping some poor shmuck out of the gutter at maybe one of the only places that brought him any solace. Hell, you’d been there.

He held a landline, and his face was a blustering red. I know you’re awake, kid, or something like that, and a tap bordering on violent to his head finally prompted some acknowledgment. As he lifted his head, you swore the exposure of the largely-brown room was tilted up a few ticks.

You couldn’t tell if you made a face or not. Dazai waved a hand, insisting the bartender piss off.

After a pause either no more than half a second or at least ten seconds, the bartender’s thick fingers flew to the receiver to dial, and you nearly spilled the rest of your drink as you moved, seating choice in vain.

“No, I got it. Tell me how much it is. I’ll pay it for him.”

“I don’t want your money,” the bartender spat, his attention splitting toward you. “Besides, someone like you shouldn’t waste money on a jackass like him. I want his money.”

Someone like you, in your well-pressed suit jacket. Someone surely no worse than Dazai himself. You wanted to laugh.

“Let me pay it. No need to get the authorities involved.”

“I’ll do-“

You reached inside your jacket, producing both your wallet and gun that had rested heavily against your side all evening. Cooly, you kept your eyes on his as you firmly set both of them on the glossy wood, threat and promise alike looming securely from under your grasp.

The rest of his insistence faltered a bit. “-whatever I please. You don’t even know this guy, so what’s-“

And in an instant, you were in fact holding a gun to the face of a small establishment owner, in defense of a defector no less. You’d forgive yourself for this, you supposed – this was your own petty selfishness. You weren’t ever in Numazu on business.

“Put it down,” you referred to the phone. And he did, slowly, not tearing his shocked, beady gaze from your imposing weapon. He went about printing a long receipt – four feet long, at least – before sliding it toward you with a sweaty palm.

Tucking your firearm back into safety, you examined the total at the bottom, fully and painfully aware of the owlish brown eyes on you.

A life in the mafia perfects a harsh resting face, so with no further reaction, you produced a sum of bills from your wallet – the entire tab plus enough to cover your own drinks and ample amount to keep him shut up about the gun. Ample amount to pull Dazai out of the bar and into the street uninterrupted.

“That was unnecessary, you know,” he chided you as you dragged him by his wrist.

“I don’t think you and the narcs would mix particularly well right now,” you said, stopping to face him at the bench outside. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He was obviously drunk, but he didn’t sound like when you would drink together before. He looked irritated at you. You ignored the crack that split your heart a bit as it occurred to you that maybe he was not happy to see you.

How would you answer? On my way back to the place you left me at? To the people that would probably kill you with no hesitation at this point in time?

“Trains are down.”

“And you are…coincidentally in the exact same part of the country as me?”

Hot tears started to well up at his accusatory tone. The last thing you wanted at this moment was to cry in front of him.

“Don’t give me that shit, Dazai, you-“

“What happened to first name privileges?”

Oh, he could never fail to give you absolute whiplash. Usually, it wasn’t so intense, but it was obvious he’d been messing with you by the way that god-forsaken smirk crept onto his pretty, pretty face. Nearly two years away from that whiplash had perhaps taken with it your accustomedness to it. You reeled for a moment. You hugged him the next. You told yourself it was solely to hide the wetness on your face.

“Missed me, huh?”

“You’re full of shit,” you croaked into the shoulder of his coat, but not letting up. Eventually, two strained hands made their way to the small of your back. A chin dropped onto the crown of your head. The light-polluted night sky was a little bluer. For this first time ever, you were suddenly very attuned to the idea that at many, many points in your life, you absolutely would have cited Osamu Dazai as your reason for staying with the Port Mafia. "You're absolutely fucking full of it."

"I know," he mumbled uncharacteristically. The last thing you would've expected was for him to agree, let alone so calmly and with such resignation; you wanted to shout so many things at him. All the same, you supposed you would like to drench the whole world in epoxy resin and keep it all like this forever. That'd be terrible for the environment, though, and you'd never get your answers.

The sanctuary of his arms began to unravel the moment you wished it never would. With you clung to his tiny waist - ever tinier - Dazai straightened himself out, cleared his throat.

He muttered your name. "Let me go now."

You shook your head violently. "What if I never get this again?" Whispered, intentionally, so it would be difficult to hear. (You knew better that nothing about you got past him.)

"You act like I'm dying."

"You still trying?"

"Always." He chuckled, but it wasn't funny to you. For a while, you thought maybe he had died, but the universe seemed to like to spite Dazai as much as he did it. If he was dead, you'd know. It didn't make his jokes any funnier.

He sighed. You knew he wanted to say something like you're ruining my buzz with your sappiness or something, and you weren't sure why he wasn't. Silence didn't go hand in hand with this man. Truth be told, you felt completely and unpleasantly sobered up, and cursed yourself momentarily for eating such a solid meal for lunch. Perhaps this would feel easier if you were dying.

Reluctantly, you pulled back to look up at him. He looked hollow. Gorgeous. Eye bandage gone. You could count on one hand the number of times you'd seen him in plain clothes before, and this was one of them. A brown and tan color-blocked sweater, black jeans, sand-colored hunting boots. So far from your Osamu. You didn't feel shy under his searching eyes. You never did. You both began to speak, words beginning with "wh-", at the same time.

"You first," he suggested, a thick gulp giving away the guise of the amused smile he put on. (He should've known better that the opposite was true, as well.)

I'm a pathetic shell of a human being without you. You left and I wanted to kill myself and I wanted to kill you and I wished more than ever after you were gone that I'd taken you up on that stupid offer one of those times. You left me. You left me to rot. I hate you. That's not true. I can't lie to you. You're the only good thing in my life. "What are you doing now?"

Another thing you noticed was that he didn't reek of blood anymore. You didn't doubt for a second that he couldn't say the same about you. Desperation was a sickening green color, but you'd always liked green quite a bit, and you knew he did, too.

"Nothing you can't tag along for."

He didn't have to hope for you to say anything.

[lord-squiggletits]

I’d love to hear any comments/headcanons you have for pre-Tarn/pre-war Damus!

Those tags about him being touch starved due in part to his Outlier powers had me in my feels 😭😭 I loved that wonderful (and angsty) analysis on him.

Hmm I'm not sure I have that many but let's see if the ones I do have end up blossoming into a more robust list or not

Like most people, I headcanon Damus having an affinity for music long before becoming Tarn; I mean, his outlier power had literally nothing to do with sound at all to begin with (even once he started being able to do it at a distance), so it seems like for Tarn to have 'music lover' as one of his big traits, he would've picked it for a reason, no? Not all parts of Tarn (TM) have to be a complete pretense

Following that, because Damus' outlier broke all electrical devices/machines he touched, he became a singer because his own voice is something he can't break and that no one can take away from him. Maybe he would've tried non-electronic instruments, but he would've gravitated towards singing more than instrumental performance regardless

Also, depending on how you headcanon Cybertronian singing to work (do any of them "breathe"/push air like humans do or are their voices entirely synthesized? Is "breathing" a special mod or does it work as a function of ventilation/cooling), being empurata'd probably could've affected Damus' singing ability since he would no longer have a face/mouth to shape his sounds. Could still sing since he does have a voice box, but I imagine that, considering Damus wasn't able to touch anyone/anything anyways, losing his hands was way less hurtful to him than losing his face.

However, since his outlier ability would make him pretty much functionally disabled on Cybertron (literally everything and everyone is machines), Damus would've had a greater appreciation for physical mediums of art/function more than the average person, I think. In a society where pretty much everything is stored on datapads, computers, etc, Damus would've been a huge pen-and-paper, art canvas, stonecarving, etc kind of guy; a big appreciator of things that can survive without an electrical connection or any machine functioning. He's basically one of those people who, in human terms, would own a lot of antiquated stuff like record players, cassette decks, CDs, etc because his outlier forced him to adapt to (and then eventually enjoy the benefits/unique traits of) physical rather than digital mediums. I imagine this trait would make Damus odd among other hobbyists, since for both anatomical reasons (they're a mechanical species) and cultural reasons (history of mechanical superiority/anti-organic tendencies), most people would probably degrade physical media as less fast, efficient, flexible, etc compared to digital. Which does kind of make it ironic that Damus later became a Decepticon, but I suppose non-electrical/mechanical doesn't necessarily equate to being organic.

On account of not gaining control of his outlier until his outlaw days with Orion and co., I imagine Damus' job opportunities would've been very limited and he would've mostly had a very poor/limiting lifestyle (which also inclined him to be more interested in Megatron's writings and eventually becoming a Decepticon). Creativity isn't running well at the moment, but probably something like waste management (like being a garbage man) or some sort of manual hauling job, although Damus appears to have just been a normal 4-wheeled car alt-mode so I'm not sure he could've/would've gotten hired for heavy manual labor stuff. Perhaps he could've been a courier like Bumblebee was pre-war?

That also begs the question of how Damus compensated for his disability. Maybe to handle electronics, he could do so as long as he wore really thick gloves or something? Probably he'd also take advantage of stuff like voice commands/text to speech on electronic devices, so I imagine Damus' life wasn't completely devoid of any technology whatsoever. Do you think he'd be able to cook food on a stove top as long as he used a pair of tongs to grab it? I bet Damus had to get really good at improvising disability aids and getting basic life functions done without touching things directly with his hands, so maybe he was a bit of a tinkerer back then as well. And now I'm imagining Damus' home being full of elaborate Rube Goldberg machines that do very basic things like turn the stove to a specific temperature and turn it off after a set interval of time klsdalfjkdls