#But MAN did this bring me out of my art funk

[danyayeni2]

SIOBRA BE UPON YEE

Siobra ship belongs to good ol’ @fluffycoffeebuns

[lovejustforaday]

Gay Pride Anthems (According to Me) - Pull Up to the Bumper

Pull Up to the Bumper - Grace Jones

Genres: Synth Funk, Dance Pop

My next choice pick for a gay pride anthem rides the fine line between "implicit" and "explicit" in tackling a rather delicate act that happens between two consenting adults. It's also kinda about cars too, which is fine I guess (if you're into that sort of thing).

Yes, today we're gonna ram it right into someone's tailgate, and hone in on Grace Jones' 1981 dance hit "Pull Up to the Bumper".

THE ARTIST

Miss Grace Jones is, definitively, one of the most important queer icons of the 20th century. She is also perhaps one of the least likely, coming from her background as a pastor's daughter from Jamaica, one of the most violently homophobic countries to this day.

The Jones family moved to NY state when Grace was a child. Her earliest adulthood ventures were into the 60s bohemian hippy lifestyle, complete with experiments using LSD which she herself described as "experiments in living".

Soon after, she found herself as an upcoming star in the very queer world of NYC disco during the late 70s. During this time and after, she was a frequent patron and performer of gay clubs and bars, earning her stripes early on as an honorary member of the community. Mind you, Grace herself has always refused to label her sexuality.

Along with 1980's Warm Leatherette, Grace's 1981 Nightclubbing record, along with its surrounding fashion photo shoots and music videos, helped to reinvent the artist from a typical 70s disco diva into the one-of-a-kind, bold and sophisticated, genre-bending multimedia pop artist legend that she became in the 80s.

For all that has been (rightfully) said about what Lady Gaga did for bringing transgressive, queer, and avant-garde fashion to the public eye, Grace Jones herself had already been doing the same several decades earlier. Yes, in an age of new romantics and glam rockers wearing their mother's makeup, Grace Jones still managed to tower above all others as the one true queen of androgyny.

Her 80s image also very explicitly celebrated blackness in the most literal sense, appearing in outfits, makeup, and photo shoots that heavily accentuated and even occasionally exaggerated the lustrous dark tones of her skin. Pronounced, avant-garde, and striking images that interrogate race and gender were kinda her bread and butter in the 80s.

That said, I do have to mention that at least some part of how her signature image was delivered was inseparably informed by her collaborator and then-lover Jean-Paul Goude, a French photographer and (with emphasis) white man whose legacy I might very generously describe as....complicated (ie: pretty damn racist). 😬

Unfortunately, some of the work Goude produced with Grace as his muse, however pure his intentions (which I highly doubt), pretty unambiguously falls heavily under the umbrellas of fetishism, other-ing, dehumanization, and even minstrelsy. Perhaps worst of all is the 1985 music video for "Ladies and Gentleman : Miss Grace Jones" which features, and implicitly celebrates the aesthetics, of footage from mid 20th century minstrel shows and their deeply racist stereotypes.

Does it make it at all any better that the queen Miss Jones herself clearly saw merit in his "art" to continue working with him for so long? Could it really be an attempt at satire or subversion that simply doesn't land today like it did back then? Look, I don't know; I don't know how Grace herself understood his "art", and I'm white, so I'm quite out of my depth on this issue.

But I can definitely say that some of the photo shoots and especially the aforementioned music video make me fucking wince, and Goude himself has said a lot of very weird, plainly racist shit over the years, and his work clearly mimics the disdainful white gaze of minstrelsy which is frankly not fucking cool however "ironic" or "satirical" it is.

That said, Grace herself is a very powerful woman who has always been a master of controlling her narrative, known to make frivolous male interviewers back down with their tails between their legs. She doesn't need me to defend her, and it's as clear as day that her 1980s curated artistic image was still very much of her own will and design, as the striking avant-garde taste-maker that she was and continues to be to this day.

But the most notable example of her image is the ICONIQUE cover art of Nightclubbing. Grace's skin appears a metallic indigo, with the straight slants of the shoulder pads of her suit, and the sharpness of her cheekbones and iconic flat-top fade creating an all around highly geometric and strikingly surreal figure. She appears nude under her jacket, flashing the inner sides of her breasts, while sporting a cigarette with a piercing, stoic glare, gleefully playing with signifiers of gender, vulnerability, and power. It's simply one of the most effective cover arts I've ever seen; a perfect, minimal execution of a strong concept, and an image that'll no doubt burn itself into your memory permanently. It's 100% Grace Jones.

But enough already about Grace's image; what is there to say about one of the best songs on her Nightclubbing record?

THE SONG AND WHY IT SLAPS

"Pull Up to the Bumper" is one of two singles off Nightclubbing, both of which are easily the strongest tracks on the record.

Incidentally, the other single "I've Seen That Face Before (Libertango)" is an even bigger highlight in my opinion, but we're focusing on songs that are the GAYEST, and that most definitely describes "Pull Up to the Bumper".

The song itself is a classy, metropolitan synth funk number with a groovy, wobbly bass, brittle early 80s synths, and a reggae-inspired percussion section. True to its metaphor, it also samples car horns and highway noises. Much like the cover art of the record, its a brilliant execution of concept. I feel like I'm putting the pedal to the metal in some seriously luxurious six inch stilettos.

It's also a complete and total earworm. Those choruses? Easy enough to learn on the first listen, and so rhythmically satisfying. That little pre-post-chorus synth line jingle that goes "DO do do do doooooooOOOOOOET"? Immaculate, and I wanna hear it at least a dozen times more on every listen.

Grace sounds seductive and powerful as all hell on this track. I mean, she always does, but she REALLY does here. She possesses this really stoic contralto that makes it all the more sensual when she is inviting to the listener, like a mighty queen granting permission to be seen and bask in the glow of her goddessly stature.

A lot of funk songs like this tend to be described as having a "fat" or "meaty" bassline, but to my ears this one sounds incredibly thin, velvety, even wispy at times. There's a decent amount of negative space between notes and beats that gives the whole experience a kind of light and skippy feeling, and then there's that hollow-sounding style of early 80s mastering and production that can be heard in a lot of new wave and post-punk at the time. All of this of course adds to my enjoyment of the track - it's really got a one-of-a-kind, breezy vibe, but at the same time very tight and controlled.

And it's also just, so incredibly horny in that very refined and subtle kind of way. Truly, music for getting nasty after discarding your haute-couture on the carpeted lounge floor.

WHY IT'S GAY

It's about butt stuff. No really; the "bumper" in question is an ass, and every other lyric is just an extension of this metaphor: "Drive it in between", "Let me lubricate it", "Now that fits nice". Need I say more?

Then again, butt stuff itself can be totally straight too, so the men chanting along certainly helps to up the gay factor. Hold up - the last song had men chanting the chorus as well. Is this a thing? Does men chanting the chorus in unison automatically make a song more homoerotic? It's even in that one really gay song by that one gay guy that you possibly just maybe might've heard from last year. Huh. What to do with this information?

Of course, Grace Jones herself is also one of the most beloved pop divas of her time, and she was an early avant-garde and androgynous fashionista trailblazer who opened so many doors for challenging femmes and gender-bending fashion to make it into the spotlight. Even when not singing about necessarily "queer" topics, her image and her energy make it so that everything she touches has a sprinkle of queer residue that won't rub off (as it shouldn't!)

Honestly, the fact that a song that this blatantly celebrated "buggery" was a US charts dance hit in 1981, coinciding with the beginning of a resurgence of anti-LGBTQ hate and paranoia in the wake of the then-newly announced AIDS crisis, is kind of a miracle unto itself. I guess the car metaphors got it past the filters.

Of course, dance genres have always been more predominantly queer spaces than in other genres, as queer folks have often sought refuge upon the dancefloor. Perhaps its not so surprising that an artist like Grace made it to the top of the dance charts during a time when the community so desperately needed to be seen.

All in all, what we got here folks is a rather precious artifact of queer history in the 1980s, a time when gay anthems were needed more than ever. During an age of misinformation, scare tactics, and persecution, Grace Jones was a beacon of hope, a proud, powerful, and prominent image of an androgynous iconoclast who very much took part in and celebrated the queer community.

Now if you'll excuse me, this song has reminded me that my gay ass DOESN'T have a driver's license, and I have a bus to go catch. Toodles!

[anosci]

(271-285 albums etc that I’ve listened to this year, copied from twitter) (now with art. [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20])

names and thoughts below cut

271/ Autechre - AE_LIVE 2022- (2023) condensing thoughts, using fan titles: "corcine" one of my favs overall!!! london_b!!! the transition here is amazing "osin PM" im very happy to see the ceramic percussion return! s/o2 "T2" for turning a so-so intro into a fav track of mine. "Drane 3"!!!

---

272/ VA - Bomb Rush Cyberfunk OST (2023) this truly catches the feel of JSR but with a fresh glisten. it keeps surprising me. some trax are perfect for the game but not smth id listen to later. some keepers: "Scraped On The Way Out", "JACK DA FUNK", "Spectres", "Precious Thing",,

---

273/ Datsik - Sensei (2016) some nice wob sludge "Nasty" is the standout to me, with the title track being a close second. overall just ok tho imo

---

274/ Alon Mor - Associative Delusions (2016) absolutely wild. what is going on here. "Low Sugar" did mazedude write this? wacky vibe mixing "Vacom" the snare + bass thing here is something ive long craved. its not super crazy but im super into it. fascinatingly cool

---

275/ SDEM - ZNS (2020) a world tour of sound design ive only heard from autechre before. "Flargunnsto" hell yes!!!! the texture! the perc! fav? "skittern" holy shit what a texture "PSKWDIM" showing a hip hop skam styling "SwiriswiriswiriS" gets a mention too. vibes.

---

276/ Machinedrum - Human Energy (2016) lush bangers assorted thoughts: "Spectrum Sequence" oh holy shit!!! man "Isometrix" hits me right "Dos Puertas" rly good example of what i love about machinedrum "Do It 4 U" chords as "perc" so many good vibes here

---

277/ EPROM, ZEKE BEATS - Humanoid.rmx (2023) a few thoughts: "Chee.rmx" is nothing like i imagined. basically a new song??? good tho. "sumthin sumthin.rmx" banger. second fav? then the regular track: that C64 snare in the non-remix thing really feels good. fav i think.

---

278/ Noxin - Dream Sequence (2022) it's "like ae" but entirely its own thing. rly good two specific favs: "All the Italics, in the Air" delicately handling intricate machinery. meditative in a way. "Expansively, Dreaming Big" god this vibe is impeccable. lush chords.

---

279/ patten - Ψ (2016) kinda dives into some messy soundscapes im not a fan of but has some cool tracks, like "Used 2 b" and its spooky vibe and the stuttery textures in "Yyang". rly wishing there was more of "Pixação" as the ending of that track = the best bars here imo

---

280/ Jameszoo - Fool (2016) this is… playful. that's the word to use here. but also. f.ex, "Lose" is very spaced out. specifically the "can't quite focus on a bright day" spaced out. the reverb & arrangement on "Soup" has that effect too. pretty wild to capture that feeling

---

281/ Fearful & Mtwn - Exordium (2021) heavy and industrial. like uk…. grime? im not sure actually. it's got grit. just LISTEN to "Obliteration" massive.

---

282/ VA - Genome (2021) way more of a mixed bag than i was anticipating, at least in the degrees which it vibes with me. i think it works best when its got That Beat with wild textures. so, "Lysine Acetylation", "Mitochondria"… "liminal flux" prolly my fav.

---

283/ Fiesta Soundsystem - Sinking (2023) i believe they call this jungle ist massive? loving the lush soundscape in "residuae.ls" "diaphphanousdiaphophresis" reaches more into breakcore. ends way too soon :( "3rd aspect" dives into that slower tempo im wont to enjoy

---

284/ VA - Genome 2 (2022) mixed bag etc etc a few thoughts / highlights: "Multidimensional Dot" i do like my chrome cylinders :) "Atom Smasher" bringing that late 00s beat 🥰 "Znr" i adore that gantzy texture! one of my favs i think

---

285/ Henry Greenleaf - Dog Eared (2023) a sort of lush nightclub selection. "Bubble Trouble" god that's cool. tipper ass. "Calpohol" and title track are basically just techno slappers

---

(next page)

[juleecruisearchive]

The Arrow Interviews Julee Cruise

PH Travis Blue

Singer Julee Cruise’s collaboration with composer Angelo Badalamenti gave birth to two exceptional albums: “Floating into the Night” and “The Voice of Love”. Ms. Cruise also contributed songs and acted in “Twin Peaks” and “Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me”. She now has a new album out called “The Art of Being a Girl”. Personally, I have to thank singer/actress Julee Cruise for touching and inspiring me via her angel-like voice and poignant music. I had the chance to talk shop with Julee and here’s how it went down. ARROW: What’s your favorite horror movie? JULEE: Psycho. ARROW: When do you write your best work? When depressed or in a chipper mood? JULEE: It doesn’t matter what mood I’m in to write sing act or perform. It is my refuge, it is where I live, so to speak. I’ve been doing it all since I was 3 or  4, it’s a form of escape from a world that I don’t like much. ARROW: After 'Floating Into The Night’, did you find it hard to disassociate yourself from Lynch to solely be “Julee Cruise- singer” as opposed to “Julee Cruise- singer for Twin Peaks”? JULEE: I hope I am not disassociated from David Lynch. Everything I have done since (see discography on www.juleecruise.net) is just more of what I’ve been doing all my life. But I have to say, I’m very proud to have been part of a groundbreaking sound, which many singers have imitated since (another compliment). Twin Peaks was also ground breaking to television, it’s like being in an episode of the Twilight Zone. My work with David will always be something I made my mark in this world with. And even though I’ve done so much work of many different kinds since, it will probably never be as special and as known as my work with him. He taught me many things, and gave me the courage to be “beautiful”. ARROW: Your last album ‘Art of Being a Girl’ sported a very different sound than ‘Floating into the Night’ and the ‘Voice of Love’. What was your main incentive to take that musical direction? JULEE: I wanted to make a different kind of “lounge” CD, and produce something that shows yet another style of my singing. I wanted beauty and humor, and I wanted to prove to myself that I could make another unusual CD, write it, produce it, manage it and do something new. Use my people to collaborate with. I’ve done so much for other artists, I wanted to do something of my own, with integrity and grace. I’m very proud of it. I have many different styles of singing. What is my true voice? It’s all approached as an actress. ARROW: How has collaborating with Moby fulfilled you as an artist? Would you say you’ve learned something off the man? JULEE: HA! I am good friends with Moby, but I wouldn’t say I learned anything from working with him. Maybe he learned something from working with me. HA! That’s a dear, but funny question.

ARROW: Singing live or in studio? Which one do you enjoy the most and why?

JULEE: Singing live. The stage is where I live, and always will be. I am a very intense performer.

ARROW: You also act. You’ve played the “Queen of Hearts” in “Alice in Wonderland” and your last on-screen gig was as the Road House singer on “Twin Peaks”. Do you have any intentions of hopping back on the acting train eventually?

JULEE: My last acting gig was at The Public Theater (New York Shakespeare Festival) in New York playing Andy Warhol in Radiant Baby, directed by George C. Wolfe, a Pulitzer Prize winning director. (Angels in America, Bring in the Noise, Bring in the Funk, among many others) I did that all last year, it was headed for Broadway as most of the Public Theater’s plays are, but The New York Times killed it, except for me, thank God, and David Geffen pulled the money. I also just finished a film last year called “The End Of The Line” which will be expanded and will star Danny DeVito. I will be putting up a trailer for the film on my website soon (all kinds of film and video). But really, all my work, is acting. No one, including my husband, really knows who I am. Only my dogs. I let them see the real me, they are my gifts.

ARROW: Have you ever cried while singing one of your songs? If so, which song?

JULEE: Yes, I cry to The World Spins and Falling, if I keep my eyes closed, my voice won’t tighten. It’s not acting, it’s real.

ARROW: When she’s not working, what does Julee Cruise do to relax?

JULEE: I play with my dog Sally, my Lab Marty died this summer, and I’ve never felt such grief in my life. I’m still in it, but I know he’s happy now. At least I got the gift of having him die peacefully in my arms to some of his favorite songs, which are from Floating into the Night. The Vet came to my country home at sunset and we had all the fires and torches lit. The vet said, his heart should be stopping by now, and I said he was waiting for the very last beat of the song, and he did. Sally and I watch Cops and Forensic Files, City Confidential, Parole Board and American Justice. I turn off the phone and eat chocolate chip cookies with my pillow, all candles lit. I also shop like a crazy woman, and love that too. I don’t like social events, they frighten me. I’m pretty much a loner.

ARROW: What’s next on your plate? Are you working on a new album?

JULEE: I am mixing my new CD and getting ready for a one woman, multimedia show, going to Europe to tour various projects I’m involved in and writing another CD. My agent is waiting for a good film to come my way. But I’m always busy with my work, and I’m very grateful that my “playtime” as a little girl has turned into a business. I live a charmed life in that respect. I am blessed with a gift and still going strong. But when I leave this world I will have left something very special which 99% of the population can’t say. I am so grateful for that.

I’d like to thank Julee for her time and for the delight that is her music.  And here’s some free Arrow advice for the people reading this: If you’re feeling blue and want to revel in it, get a glass of Southern on the rocks, light a smoke and put Cruise’s “Questions in a World of Blue” tune on. Life will make sense. Trust me.

NOTE: This is my 100th interview. Top of the world, Ma! Break out the Champagne!

Source: Arrow In The Head November 7 2003

[buttsmasher]

Smell of an Alpha

[The fantastic @one-inch-chick submitted the photo that gave me this idea. BTW if you haven’t checked out his art yet, you should do so, he’s extremely talented. Feel free to check out the photo here.]

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Gay Farting, Willing Victim, Teasing, Pass out from Farting, Cumming from Farting

You try not to stare as Demarcus runs around the track. But the way his ass moves up and down in those tight pants is just purely erotic. You can’t not stare, and you know you can’t be the only one. No man should have an ass that fat and so hypnotic. You just try to take a peek and next thing you know, you dick is straining in your trainers as you’ve watched him run two laps.

You firmly shut your eyes and put your head in your hands so there’s absolutely no way you can keep staring. You keep willing your boner to go away so you can go back to stretching and start your morning jog, but your mind keeps wandering to Demarcus’s massive ass. You can’t help but imagine having him sit straight down onto your face after running all day in this terrible heat.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You say absentmindedly as you ball your hands into fists. “Come on man, get yourself together.” You gave your cheeks two slaps before jumping up and bouncing from foot to foot. Your eyes are still closed and by some miracle your boner has decided to leave. But when you open your eyes, you freeze.

Demarcus is currently in front of you bent over touching his toes, his ass in perfect view. Your mouth falls open and you can feel drool starting to drip out of your mouth. His ass is just...perfect. There’s no other word for it, and you just want to know what it feels like. Your body takes a step closer to where he’s currently stretching. You have no control over yourself as you move on auto-pilot. 

You watch as your hand reaches out and smacks his sizable ass. Then your hand grasps his right cheek and you shake it. His ass fills your hand completely and you can smell his musky body from where you’re standing. Your eyes go up his back and you come eye to eye with him. He’s giving you a confused look as he looks down at your hand and then back up to you and he gives you the most shit-eating grin.

“You havin’ fun?” He asks knowingly.

“Uh-uh I-I-” You fumble for words as you snatch your hand away. “Wh-why did I do that?” 

“It’s alright bud.” He claps your shoulder. “You’re not the first fag to get overwhelmed by me.” 

“I’m-uhh-” You clear your throat “not a fag?” You don’t know why it comes out as a question but it makes Demarcus laugh. 

“Look man,” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in close. “I know I have a great ass. I ain’t blind. And what kind of human would I be if I didn’t let a fag get off to my ass every now and then.” He moves a hand of yours so it’s touching his glutes. 

“Uh thanks?” 

“You’re welcome.” His smile is very confusing, a bit cocky but also a bit genuine. You’re not too sure what to make of it. You both stand there quietly as he continues to let you grope his ass. He then slowly moves your hand over his crack.

PFFFFFFF

You stare at him in horror as you realize he just farted on your hand. 

“Well I have to get going.” He looks at an imaginary watch. “See ya around?” You stare at your hand and then back at him then back at your hand.

“Yeah-well maybe?” Your confusion makes him laugh and you watch as he walks away.

“See ya tomorrow fag!” He gives a wave and you wave back even though he’s not even looking at you. 

“Tomorrow? Yeah.” You mumble the words not really registering with you. All you can focus on is your hand. You slowly bring it up to your nose and you take a small whiff. Your eyes go cross as his lingering ass funk fills your nose. You need to get home now!

You rush back to your car to head home, totally forgetting to even do your workout. The only thing you can focus on is how his ass felt as you squeezed and how amazing that fart smelt on your hand. You can’t even wait to get home and end up having to stop on the side of the highway to rub one out. You end up cumming in your boxers and by the time you get home it’s all gross and dried.

You plant your face against your steering wheel to catch your breath. “What the fuck is wrong with me?” You sigh.

*****The Next Day*****

You’re embarrassed to say that you came back the next day just to see Demarcus in action again. Not even pretending to do a workout today, you try to hide in an inconspicuous spot where you don’t think he’ll be able to notice you. You even bring binoculars with you. 

Shit, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are a fag.

You’re looking through them, trying to find any sign of him when finally you see him exit the locker rooms and head out to the track. This time he’s wearing a tighter pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. 

You take a big gulp, trying your best not to let your mind get overwhelmed with even more inappropriate thoughts. You can’t lie though, you came about 5-7 times last night from different scenarios you would beg Demarcus to try. But right now, this is probably the best you’ll get.

You spy as Demarcus stretches on the side of the track. Again his ass is in perfect view and your dick is quickly tightening your pants. He lifts his leg up to his butt and holds it for a moment and then does the other before he finally starts jogging around the track. You notice he seems to be going slower than yesterday and in his second lap you can see himself fanning his face like he smelled something bad. 

Your mind immediately goes back to one of your mastubatory dreams from last night where he loads you up with his manly gas. The thoughts make your dick thoroughly strain against your boxers and you try your best to think of anything else. 

Demarcus stops in front of you, maybe 20 feet away from your hiding spot. He puts his hands on his knees and takes a couple of deep breaths.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

From your vantage point, you can hear him releasing terrible torrents of gas. “Fuck.” He says pretty loudly as he rubs his stomach. “What did they put in that protein shake?” Demarcus stretches to the left and then to his right and makes eye contact with you. You see his pained face turn into a mischievous smile. 

“Well hey there fag face!” He says standing upright. You give a short wave back as he walks towards you. “Were you here hiding from me?” 

“Nooo.” You say unconvincingly. “I just like-uh-being one with nature.” 

“Sure you do.” You see his right eye twitch.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF

“I’m telling ya man, I’ve got the worst gas today.” He pats his stomach a couple times.

“Yeah I can, uhh, hear that.” 

“If only there was a fag ‘round here, that would graciously sniff these butt blasts so I don’t have to smell them.” You gulp, he couldn’t possibly mean you could he. “Do you know one?” You shake your head no. “You sure?” You nod. “Well if you find one, tell him I’ll be in the locker rooms.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” You whisper-yell as Demarcus jogs back towards the direction of the locker rooms. You argue with yourself whether or not you’re going to go. “I have to go.” You stand upright. “I have to.” You quickly jog after Demarcus.

When you get to the locker room, you see Demarcus bending over the bench and letting out soft groans.

PFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFF PFFFFFFFFFF

He’s still letting out farts and you can’t stop yourself from walking up behind him and getting on your knees. Demarcus notices you and makes a show of shaking his ass. “Couldn’t stay away couldya?” You sheepishly shake your head no and you take a loud inhale of his musky ass. “It’s alright, all you fags need to learn at some point.” He moves his hand behind your head and holds you firmly against him. “You can’t resist an alpha.”

PFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTT

You’re subjected to the pure manly stank of him. It’s raw and terrible and it makes your eyes water. He strongly smells of rotten eggs and you have to ask yourself how you got yourself in this situation. You don’t fight him though, you just stay there taking deep whiffs of his ass funk. 

“There you go, breathe me in.” Your mouth slightly falls open. “Let my ass control your thoughts.” His voice is so calm and addicting, you fall into a trance. “Deep breath.” You take a large inhale.

PFBRBRBBFFFFTTTT PFFF

He times the farts perfectly making sure you get a lungful of his toxic fumes. “Yeah, like that. Breathe me in fag.” You take another large breath not wasting any of the rotten garbage he’s releasing from his ass. 

He lets go of the back of your head. “Lay down for me fag.” 

“Yes sir.” You obey laying down on the rough concrete floor.

“Good fag.” He squats down over your face, his ass not quite touching you.

PFFFFFFFBRBRB PFFFFFFF PFFFF PBFBFBF PFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFF

“Aww fuck.” He sighs in relief and you push your head against his clothed ass again. “You like how that smells?” 

“Yes sir.” 

“Yes Alpha.” He corrects.

“Yes alpha.” 

“What’s it smell like?”

PRFFFBFFFTTT PFFFFFFTTTT

“Old eggs. Rott-rotten sewage?” You struggle to put a coherent thought together, your fag brain blissed out. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please alpha, give me more.” You beg and you hear him chuckle. 

“Anything for you faggot.” You watch as he pulls his shorts down so you’re staring at his bare ass. He finally puts his full weight on you by sitting down straight onto your face.

PFFFFFFFFFFBRBRBFFFFFFFTTT

“That’s just for you fag. So make sure you get it all in your fag lungs.” 

“It smells so good, alpha.” Your brain is empty with the only thought to serve him. 

“You fags are so easy. One whiff of a man, and here you are. Begging me for my nasty farts. You’re as bad as a pig. You know that right? You’re a pig, fag.”

PFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFBBRRRFFFFFFFTTT

You know he’s right. You should be disgusted, but seriously you’re so fucking hard you’re scared that you’re about to unload in another pair of your boxers. Your eyes are rolled back in pleasure as you inhale everything he gives you.

“I bet I could make you cum from this.” He waggles his hips, making sure you’re bounced between both of his cheeks. “Think you could cum from me farts piggy?” You fevisherly nod your head yes, and he laughs. “Fucking pathetic.” He gets out between laughs. 

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

And there it is. You’re seeing stars as you start shooting your load in your boxers.

PFFFFFFFFFFFF PFFFFF PFFFTT

His ass doesn’t let up as your back arches from the amount of cum you’re shooting. It’s probably one of the best orgasms that has rocked your body.

PFFFFFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFFFFFFFFFFF

Fart after fart gets let loose to the point that you go from seeing stars to everything going black from lack of fresh air.

“Alpha.” You struggle.

“Nighty night piggy.”

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT

Everything goes black as your head falls lax onto the concrete floor. The worst smelling fart knocks out any remaining fresh air that you had left. Demarcus gets up leaving you on the floor to marinate in his stink. When you do finally wake up, you find his scent still lingering all over you and your shorts are sticky from dried cum.

You can’t help it that your hand snakes its way down to your dick and you start jacking off to the lingering scent of the alpha. It’s natural for a piggy to love the stink, especially a piggy fag like you.

[purple-eyesgreydragon]

Trollstopia Season 5 Thoughts.

Can we all agree Barb would’ve been stoked that Poppy wanted to learn more about the hard rock tribe? I’m sure she would be very happy😄❤️! Man when Holly wants something to happen she’s determined to make it so, but like seriously can’t Branch just casually make a pie every once in awhile?

Oh man my fellow techno trolls never fail to get me pumped up💙! Like seriously anything they do, I wanna do cause it just feels right! My sis and I are so going to bond over that episode. She’s classical and I’m techno so bringing them together like that is just AWESOME! As an artist I personally thought Synth’s arts were beautiful all in their own abstract way, I loved them. I seriously don’t get how someone else doing them exactly the same way makes it better.

Maybe the pop trolls should’ve mentioned to the other tribe about Snow Day when they all moved there. I’m curious to know how the rock and techno trolls would’ve thought of the cold. Techno trolls spent almost their entire lives underwater, while rock trolls lived in a volcano. I don’t think either of them would particularly like it. If anything if Techno Lagoon was frozen over, they’d be cut off for the day. Okay really Synth? You’re a techno troll who lived in a deep part of the ocean where sunlight barely could ever, if ever reach, and you’re all born with a natural bioluminescence. How the heck can you be afraid of the dark? More techno classical correspondence😄💙💛! Their swap was ironic considering I’m afraid of heights.

Holly’s pet looked a lot like my funk pet OC Wuzzy😂! Personally I wasn’t all exactly for that episode if you ask me. But at least everyone got a little friend. Val’s name is Valentina😆! Synth seems to be really good at motivational speaking😄. I guess when one has the right drive or motivation they can go beyond what they thought they could do, huh Holly.

It was great seeing more K-Pop trolls again😃! It’s true what they say, it’s hard not to shake your shimmy to K-Pop. It’s just catchy! Gust seriously your a fun sheriff but you really have to be such a sore loser and call the people you played with cheaters out of spite? If you’re going back to Lonesome Flats for a few days, say hi to Delta while you’re there. Maybe if Poppy wants the other trolls to meet trustworthy bergens she should try the ones in Bergen Town. Not solitary ones. Although it was great reminiscing on the first movie.

Their music quite frankly has magical powers all itself and it gives them theirs since they’re each a part of it. Yeah magic is real in that world! Lagoona is a VERY quick analyzer! What she did was SOOO sweet. Not too far off from when Branch decided to keep a secret for his friends sake. R and B really did have their first disagreement huh. But there’s always a better way to solve a problem and there could be more to a problem then one thinks.

Okay that tidal wave of Snug-a-Lugs was legitimately terrifying! I see where Branch gets his ability to plan ahead. That last episode made me go through FEELS!!!!! You’re Grandma loves you Branch, and she always will💙!

[kickmag]

Alan Oldham Reintroduces JOHNNY GAMBIT For A New Generation (Interview)

Alan Oldham is what society now calls a multi-hyphenate, but in times past, the term was Renaissance man.

For the past three decades plus, he has been an innovative purveyor of electronic music and a comic book writer and artist extraordinaire. Oldham started his trek as an eclectic art fan during the ‘80s in his Detroit hometown. He combined his love of the German Expressionist movement in film, the clean lines of Art Deco-inspired objects and more to start writing the narrative and visuals for his characters. The first major result was his trench coat-laden hero JOHNNY GAMBIT. Oldham hit paydirt and was signed to Hot Comics out of Chicago in 1986. The company folded soon after and the character would have two more issues published in 1987-88 by Detroit’s Eclectic Press.

Oldham did not have any time to think about the next move for JOHNNY GAMBIT because he was busy creating the cover art for the first Detroit Techno releases from childhood friends like Derrick May and Juan Atkins. These same friends also supplied him with music for his influential Fast Forward radio show being broadcast on WDET. This writer remembers listening to Oldham play Detroit Techno, house music and industrial in the early morning hours as listeners would call in and get an education on the new sounds that have laid the foundation for today’s myriad of electronic artists. He also worked as a DJ for Mike Banks’ sci-fi and funk-dipped techno crew Underground Resistance. As the ‘90s moved on Oldham started making his own music and founded the Generator and Pure Sonik labels.

Today, Oldham is just as excited about creating as he was years ago. A current resident of Berlin, he still travels the world as a DJ and has had art exhibitions in several countries. He is having a rebirth of sorts with JOHNNY GAMBIT and a Kickstarter relaunch. The new graphic novel is bringing GAMBIT back with a remastered 2 CD set. I spoke with Oldham last month shortly after his set at the Charivari Music Festival in Detroit. We talked about GAMBIT, the early days of Detroit Techno, and what it is about the city that drove him to greatness among his many other career-defining moments.

“It just motivates you to push further so that’s one thing about Detroit. It’s not an easy place. No one’s going to pat you on the back and tell you good job. If anything, they will shit on you. So, it motivates you to push forward, to push internationally and outside of the city.“

How did you decide to bring Johnny Gambit back now?

I’d been working on the book for almost 15 years now. I started it in 2007 and it’s been kind of in the back of my mind to bring back JOHNNY. We did a run in the ‘80s and I didn’t get a chance to finish the original story because my publisher(s) went out of business and then time went by so I thought I’d just reboot it completely.

What was your original inspiration for the character?

Well, that’s a really good question. JOHNNY GAMBIT is basically the kitchen sink character for everything I liked at the time; Japanese animation, Japanese Manga, “Miami Vice,” “Love & Rockets,” the movie “Metropolis” by Fritz Lang, Art Deco design, prototype cars that were never made, and there was a comic back in the ‘80s called “Mister X” that was a huge influence.

I saw where Marvel later came out with the character in “Uncanny X-Men” #266.

There was a girl, well, woman now, that I met at the old Chicago Con back in ’86, and we became friends. Turns out she worked for Marvel so we stayed in touch. It turned out I was going to New York for my first visit back in ’87 and she invited me up to visit Marvel. That was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me ‘cause you got to see the real Mighty Marvel bullpen with your own two eyes. So I got to NYC, went up there and I had a bunch of my old JOHNNY GAMBIT number ones with me and she introduced me to a few of the editors like Archie Goodwin and Carl Potts, and I was just leaving my comic as a calling card.

Fast forward to 1990, I’m at Todd Johnson’s old comic shop in Ferndale, and I notice a character named Gambit with the hair to one side and a trench coat. But they gave him powers and they changed it enough so where you can’t sue them. You know how it is, they take the idea and add just enough to it so they can say hey, we came up with this on our own. But the resemblance was uncanny, no pun intended. So yeah, there’s nothing you can really do about it. At this point, it’s just an interesting story. Read more.

[laufire]

RNM 3x04

Although I’m enjoying the season so far, I gotta say, the episodes feel super disconnected, this one most of all. I blame the fact that Liz (THE LEAD) and Rosa still aren’t participating in the main fucking plot :)))

I’m still extremely wary of Rosa’s storyline. I think it makes sense for the character, and that *for now* they’re keeping it in line with it being more about Rosa proyecting/exorcising her issues than about Wyatt Long’s manpain, but. I’m eyeing it. And I really want her to be more involved in the main plot/do more stuff. Now that Kyle is in peril and Long is leaving town (which made me wonder whether he’ll become a suspect, actually), I hope that’s where she’s headed. I loved her art (it always has so much personality in it, I love how they do it) and her quote about people changing and becoming who they want to be.

I feel that with this storyline I’m doing a reverse of my usual “things I roll with in fiction but wouldn’t stand for irl” LOL. Because if I was in Rosa’s shoes I WOULD try to deradicalize someone like Long -and there’s no shortage of people like Long in my hometown, so I’m not just talking out of my ass here-, less for him and more as harm reduction and for my own morals. But this could derail Rosa’s storyline in really annoying ways. And I REALLY don’t trust this show’s track record with race. On top of that, a lot of the discourse around redemption arcs~ conveniently omits the fact that only white male characters are pressumed to get them after they commit horrible acts. Why can’t Flint, a MoC, be the one to get a redemption arc instead, for example? It could’ve been painfully easy to switch their storylines, and it could’ve been interesting since Rosa actually disliked him in high school. But the show suddenly decided to care for Long’s inner life. Because white characters (and people) are afforded more complexity by others, more good faith.

I’m not TOO worried about Kyle because it feels too early in the season to fully close that plot. But if they killed him I don’t know that I could continue with the show. I adore Rosa, but her storyline isn’t grabbing me; and I dig Michael’s family drama with Nora and the dictator, but they’re not as ~dear to me. Kyle this season was the one reuniting it all. And they can’t kill him before we figure out everything with the communicator and his father!! C’mon. Anyway. I did love him this episode, helping out; and his scenes with Michael (my rareship is sailing! xDD) were great, from their bitchiness with the radio to their perspectives during their argument. The moment Michael pushes him to take cover and then removes Kyle’s hand from his shoulder asldkfjaf. This fandom is weak for not writing me multiple pages of this rareship, js.

Speaking of rareships sailing LOL, I can’t believe after my joke post about Bert x Kyle I got a mini scene asdlfjasdf, where Bert talks to Kyle and pays a compliment to his mother. I’ve also said since then that I wanted more Bert in the show, but frankly, I wish it was for more alien/conspiracy/fun stuff (like his artisanal beer or his werewolf obsession! or get into the main alien plot!), and not an Issue Storyline that I don’t even trust the show to handle properly.

Maria and Isobel’s vision quest was fun, although I resent the fact that the Liz we saw for half the episode was a fake (seriously, BRING HER TO THE DAMN MAIN PLOT ALREADY). I don’t care much for the two of them bonding, tbh, but if it’s what Maria wants, so be it. And her moments with Kyle this season have made me more lenient towards Isobel, at least. I’m also curious about some of the elements in the quest: the first things Maria sees are Michael sitting in her bar and Rosa painting her table <33. Bert is around being attacked by racists. I also dig that either/both of them pictured Kyle in his doctor getup (with the radio).

Wrt the vision itself, I’m still on denial about the dead being Kyle lol. I’ve heard all the theories: fake death to hide the aliens (I hope that can get solved because if Kyle couldn’t for some reason continue his career in medice it would CRUSH him), and his mother (please don’t) seem the most likely options after this episode. Others are Sanders (for the hints in last week’s) or even Arturo (for Rosa and Liz’s reactions, although obviously the “Valenti” crest wouldn’t make sense there). I also don’t see how it makes sense to cover Kyle’s death if Logan killed him? Unless Max tries to heal him and leaves a handprint. Anyway, I hope none of the above die and it can be resolved. And BTW: the SPN war flashbacks I’ve witnessed in the tags with the “killing” method are. Something. I think RNM still kept the scene dramatic and the audience concerned, but man. The risk of that reference... I don’t know that it was worth it lol.

BRING LIZ TO THE MAIN STORYLINE FFS. I like what we see of her on LA in abstract, but in practice... she’s the lead ffs. One episode where she’s out and having a nice time dancing (those scenes were lovely, admittedly) like this one can be great, but after three episodes where she’s been so removed of it all? Nuh huh. Given recent events (Kyle’s attack, the handprint on her chest reacting, her resignation) I hope it changes soon. And I hope Heath can be taken at face value, because I don’t trust this show’s track record with MoC that could inconvenience its storylines (see Noah and Diego, or even Flint). Also, I LOLED at her dream in the beginning, with her imagining Max apologizing to her and expressing her own concerns about getting lost in their relationship lmfao (as if that would ever cross his mind xD).

His scenes with Kyle seem designed to get Michael out of his funk wrt his heritage, and I appreciate it (especially if it’s THIS, and not the useless or even counterproductive pep talks of anyone else Michael cares more about that does the trick lol). I’m still eagerly awaiting for development on this front. Related to that, I’ve seen the theories about Jones being his father, but. Eh. It’s not that I don’t see how it could be possible (he’s incredibly powerful and can make fire), but. To put it bluntly? I don’t think the actor can pull off what I want from the Dictator. I want someone charismatic, and preferably visibly older than Michael that actually looks like his father. Jones would be a terrible miscast on both accounts. If they bring someone else JUST for Michael it could also be a sign of him really taking over the storyline (which I’m still iffy about because of my other faves, but it’s an interesting way to see where the show is headed).

I feel they could have taken Jones to more interesting places but there’s still time. The good news is that he shaved his godawful beard AND saved a dog’s life lol. Also, am I the only one that thought he might’ve known Noah, when he grabbed his and Isobel’s picture? I’m curious about that.

[dog-day-morning]

YOU OWE THEM NOTHING

People can be self-righteous when it comes to what they think God is supposed to do if, and when they call on Him. God is not a genie in a bottle that you rub, and a jinn pops out granting you 3 or 300 wishes. The saying faith without works is dead can be applied here. Have you ever heard of or read the book Daniel Webster and the devil? This tall tale or folklore legend was about a man who made a deal with old Slew Foot, and when it was time to pay up he had 2nd thoughts. Satan never plays fair. He's forever putting us in positions where we find ourselves desperate for a quick solution to a temporary problem that only leads to a difficult end. The Latin term for buyer beware is caveat emptor, and Satan knows how to spell. The power of a wicken comes from their basic weapon of spelling or casting spells by word of mouth. Even the Bible tells us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” Tell that to a Nicolaitan. Those who make deals with the most unclean should expect to suffer in the end. Never trust the father of lies who deals in treachery, and deceit. I look back at my mother's life and wonder if God had ever intervened for her, and fought her battles that surely He and only He would be able to deliver her from, and He has. Life is hard, for many it’s a nightmare that’s ongoing. Satan comes to you when you're at your weakest or most vulnerable in the hopes of snaring your soul into eternal suffering. Jesus comes to deliver us from death, sin, and temptations that confuse us in our trek towards His truth. If you have any aspirations of entertaining people with your gifted voice or your talent for playing lead guitar, don’t sign a contract that promises you the world only to find out you owe them your sweet ass which a man of honor wouldn't consider let alone make you cosign your body for their horn dog appeasement.

Revelation 2:9

9 I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.

You're abundantly rich in spirit Yacob. Now’s the time to claim your position. These bastards have taken everything from you leaving your ancestors nothing but dust. If they could remove us off the face of the Earth they would. They're plotting to do so as you and I breathe, that's why the Father never sleeps. They are demon spawns who say they worship, and believe in God, but whose god, and what righteous god tells you to destroy a people with his blessing knowing what the children of Japheth have done to them historically? The spawns of Satan want your penuche, mouth, titties, and a-hole for their pleasure along with your talent that Justin Timberlake does not have. The new faces of R&B do not look like the people I grew up listening to or the race of people whose songs left an everlasting impression on my bleeding heart that helped me through my ill-fated, miserable existence. Robin Thicke, Christina Aguilera, K-Pop, the BackStreet Boys, and New Kids on the Block. Some of these groups are defunct, but they’re cranking out as many as they possibly can like Justin Bieber, and Demi Lovato. I just saw on YouTube where people were considering if Elvis Presley was Black, WTF?!! He was the biggest culture thief that Dr. Frankenstein, AKA Colonel Parker ever created. Man is cruel; Satan is a whole other type of bastard you shouldn’t entertain. I'm retarded. Some call me an idiot savant. YO MOMMA!!! People are blessed by the Father who has blessed many of us with gifts. There are many of you whom God has endowed with multiple talents that people would sell their soul in order to possess just one. If you're anointed by God to sing like Aretha Franklin may He lead you to sign with a label like Brother Carl Crawford's who won't make the same mistake he did with a very popular artist at this moment. More than likely you'll sign a contract entrusting your talent, blessing, and soul to the most unclean ones. Ain’t a reason in hell you should bow down or bend over for a leach like Mr. Friedman so he can butt bone your a-hole while enriching himself off your God given talents. God blesses those who seek him out, and those that don’t. I don’t know if Eddie Murphy went to Church, and sowed an offering every Sunday to God praying that the Father would make him the highest paid comedic actor in his prime. Richard Pryor was anointed in the womb to be the most blessed comedic talent, and influential comedian to ever walk this Earth bar none yet he and Mr. Murphy pursued their dreams in different ways with both of them becoming world renown. I'm inclined to ask, was it worth it?

Mark 8:36

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?

The synagogue of Satan isn’t a trending pop culture manifestation that’s to be esteemed, cherished, or envied. These cults are trying to maintain a stranglehold on a world that’s not meant for them or their sort. People who play with Ouija boards or childhood games like Bloody Mary, and light as a feather are ushering dark spirits into their homes leaving their loved ones exposed to something sinister. Get the hell away from me and mine unless you're my sister, AKA Ms. Skunk Funk, who needs to get the crust burnt off her musty, dusty drawers. The whore of Don Juan has a death wish. Explain to me how running with the devil beats walking with God?

Isaiah 59:7

7 Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.

This Nation was built on our ancestor’s blood, sweat, and relentless faith. Believe me when I say there's strength in every tear. I pray to God that I don’t shed anymore of them. Their wealth is not. It's a stolen Promise that the Father shall reward His children with. Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. The most glaring, and frustrating example that is also bitter and disheartening I can give you is our Promised Inheritance called Yisrael that the gentiles are squatting on. When a person or in this case a tribe or race of people believe in their own lies they've become reprobate; they're lost.

Revelation 3:9

9 Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.

This is what all of Esau's children fear. It's why the bland, colored people of the world are flipping over the Earth's axis, and killing us without any probable cause. They are a lawless people who've displayed their lack of empathy, and humanity for anyone save their own breed, they behave like blood hounds. I've become content with this planet being void of water (Holy Spirit.) Black people suffer from a social disorder called the crab bucket mentality. We hate to see anyone rise up, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep them down or discourage them. That person may possess something that can benefit the collective, who cares. He who possesses that blessing needs to haul tail ASAP before the winter comes knowing the Father will bless him, and a downtrodden people beyond their wildest dreams. This is why Yeshua, and His Father call us children. It's why I pray, and bemoan to the Father daily that He slays me, putting the fear of the Lord in the heathen and His Son Christ Jesus uses us for His purpose. God doesn't need us, we need Him. He's given us so much power, and authority. When you acquire it, use it for something other than satisfying your sinful, carnal, flesh minded desires. Men, don't behave like horn dogs, and women do not behave as Aholah, and Aholibah, 2 whores.

Numbers 32:24

24 Build you cities for your little ones, and folds for your sheep; and do that which hath proceeded out of your mouth.

Out of thine own mouth you have power to tread over snakes and scorpions. You can exorcise demons and devils out of your present life braking generational curses which is what I' want for a family that's disowned me. To God be the glory. God is telling us to declare a thing, and claim it. What a mighty, just God we serve. Your tongue will become a weapon to use against the lawless ones who use theirs recklessly in their attempts to get us arrested or murdered by local, and federal authorities. You can call it giving them a taste of their own medicine, it isn't. You're reclaiming what they've taken, stolen, including those of us they've murdered.

Isaiah 54:17

17 No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.

The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. Speak positive prayers out loud if you can. If you live with your family or have a roommate pray in the closet. You'll have favor with God that many people won't. They rebuked the Lord, and their anger did tear perpetually, and they kept their wrath forever. When they use their privilege, which is what we call it more often than they, comprehending they’re fully aware knowing they use it with a Demonic, driven hatred. They persecute Black men, women, and children for reasons that are not godly, and the Father does not condone. They, and all the Earth will have to answer for our individual sins against the Father in the end.

Luke 10:19

19 Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.

We don’t worship the same god as they do. They're praying to a god to erase us off the face of the Earth. Why hasn't he?.

Exodus 1:12

12 But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew. And they were grieved because of the children of Israel.

Their birth rate is dropping steadily. For the first time in the history of the census they decreased in population globally while indigenous, and other races of people stayed steady or in our case increased. This is the reasoning behind these draconian abortion laws. They're trying to preserve themselves while God is eliminating the Earth of their bloody dominion. God is sending the wicked a message before the storm comes, but no one's listening. Their violence towards us is documented, and more often it's unprovoked. They continue with the guilty until proven worthy of their mercy dogmatic mantra which is racist BS. The Earth will be lulled back to sleep. When they're confident that their world isn't in danger of being challenged by anyone, especially us. That's when God will do things that will scare them right back to the caucasus mountains bringing destruction to those who've touched, bruised, and abused the Apple of His eye. Speak life into your angel spirit, don’t entertain the demon seed that's trying to kill you, and the rest of Earth's indigenous people. You have much authority, use it. Elohim. 9/23/2021

[zabrak-show]

can i request a fic where reader is maul's apprentice and kind of a daughter-like figure to him? and she accidentally calls him dad?

Uhhh OK!! This was such a cute request and yet I made myself cry writing it. lmao so I’m sorry in advance. This is a found family story. Also, I made this gender-neutral, I hope this is ok. The setting is Dathomir at the time of the Solo movie. So after Clone Wars Maul becomes the shadowy ruler of Crimson Dawn on Dathomir. He found an apprentice on Mandalore and has been training them for about 10 years.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Found Family!, Family trauma

Whoosh!

A training orb narrowly missed your head as you ducked out of the way and finally struck it with your lightsaber. You had let yourself get distracted and it was a close call. You’d been at this for too long to make mistakes like that. You felt a deep shame for an instant but turned it into energy to focus on the training lesson at hand. You ducked and rolled on the cold stone floor, striking down the last training orb in a flash of sparks. The air now filled with the scent of dust, ozone, and sweat as you breathed in a sigh of relief. To be able to sit for even just a moment was an immeasurable treat these days.

You’d been training under Maul for almost 10 years now and he’d always been an incredibly stern and demanding Master, but lately, he’d been almost overbearing with his training. You felt frustrated at times, but mostly just wanted to make him proud of all that you knew you were capable of.

“How is it an apprentice of mine could still flounder at training orbs?” The all too familiar hauntingly deep voice of you your master filled the large room. He walked in slowly with his hands clasped behind his back and his metal feet clanking against the stone in a soft tapping you’d grown to know and love through the years, but at this moment, felt disdain towards the intrusion.

“I still won in the end,” you protested as you quickly rose from the seated position.

“Spare me. You are better than this. Better than these errors. And you know it. What is distracting you these days?” he questioned you with the same stern tone, but a tenderness behind it only you could detect.

“I’ll do better. I will do the lesson again right now. Again and again until it’s perfect.” you offered desperately.

“Hmmm… so you will not tell me what it is that distracts you? You’ve been training all day. Go wash up and spend the night meditating and maybe then you can tell me why you are distracted.” he turned and walked out of the room his black robes lightly rustling with his sudden movements. You wanted to be defiant and yell after him how out of touch he was and what a crotchety old man he had become, but you held back and just stewed in your negative feelings for a moment before ultimately deciding to do exactly as he said.

After your shower, you felt immensely better and decided to go meditate, although it was a bit begrudgingly. You wanted to go hang out with the nightbrothers, truth be told, but you also were just not in the mood for that either. You felt like you were stuck, in a funk. You missed Mandalore. Your parents were trash and you thought you had come to terms with that, but then why did you still wake up in the middle of the night dreaming about them and being in the house you grew up in? You knew Maul sensed this unbalanced feeling in you. Even if he hadn’t so much as told you he knew, it was clear he could read it on you anyway.

You set your room up to meditate, lighting some magick Dathomrian herbs and setting all the lights down low. You sat on a pillow trying to clear your mind. All you could hear was your Master’s voice and try as you might to block it out it was too loud. You got up angrily to pace the room, but then you realized you weren’t just hearing his voice in your head, he was in the next room over having a conversation. Curiosity got the best of you and you wandered out into the hall to eavesdrop.

“I wasn’t there, but if I had been perhaps I could have saved him” you overheard a woman’s voice you slightly recognized, but couldn’t quite place it yet.

“hmmm, ha ha ha ha.” your Master began his iconic sinister laugh and you knew this was not good already, but also sensed the darkness surrounding his force signature. 

‘Was he..scared? What could he have to fear?’ you pondered to yourself outside the room the voices emanated from.

“Bring the ship and come to me on Dathomir and you and I will then decide what to do about the traitor Beckett and his accomplices.” Maul snarled out and you heard the hiss of his lightsaber being activated.

“I’m on my way.” the woman responded with the immediacy that predicated only bad things on the way.

You crept back to your room knowing the peace you had known with Maul for the last ten years was about to change. You sat back down on your pillow and attempted to meditate in case your master were to walk by or come in.

“Y/N, get up. I’m sending you on a solo mission and you need to take whatever is most important to you.” Maul barged into your room as you had suspected may happen. You rushed to your feet and began looking for your bags to pack,

“Oh.. ok. Where am I going? Why aren’t you coming with me?” you tried to seem nonchalant, but his anxiety was boring into your soul and freaking you out. You’d never seen him so panicked.

“No time, just get ready and meet me at the ship hangar in an hour.” he ran out of the room before you could protest. His metal legs clanking against the stone down the hallway as you’d heard a million times before. You froze for a moment, trying desperately to always remember that sound. It was the first sound you remembered him from when he saved you on Mandalore. You had been run out of your home barely 10 years old, by your family for being force-sensitive and tried to survive on the streets of Sundari. It had gone ok for a month or so before you started to run out of party tricks to use on the gangs and you had been ambushed one night by several different gang leaders. Why your master was out walking that night and in that exact side street you’d never know, but he saved your life and the sound of his metal legs on stone pavement would forever be a reminder of that.

You swallowed a ball of anxiety and it snaked its way down your throat until finally settling into a heavy stone in your stomach. You knew he was sending you away, you sensed it. You hated that you could sense these things. Ignorance was bliss and it was not something you’d ever been privy to. You tried to breathe in the calming herbs still burning on your altar in a futile attempt to acquiesce some of these feelings. You snuffed out the incense, grabbed your bags, and left your room, not looking back as there was simply no sense of dwelling any longer.

You met Maul at the hangar and he was still in his fake calm, but frenzied mood.

“Master, you know I sense your feelings as well?” you asked with a concerned look on your face.

“Yes, my apprentice. You are more powerful than you know. I simply cannot afford to let anything happen to you. I’m sure this will all blow over in a couple of years, I just need you to hide for a while.” He reached out to grab your arm as he spoke, his fiery amber eyes gazing into your soul.

“A couple of years? That’s so long. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” You shifted your body away from him snatching your arm out of his grasp. You were an adult now and yet he still treated you like a child. It was more than you could stand.

“There’s no time to explain it all now, and I know you are no longer a child. That’s why I’m sending you away. If my old master finds out about you, about me. about any of this... Trust me, please?”

He barely spoke of his old master and when he did it was not good. You knew this was bad, but you were still so sad and confused.

“Can’t I hide on Dathomir? Please don’t send me away, dad.” the tears were spilling out of your eyes and you didn’t quite register what you had called your master until you looked up into his red face, his amber eyes widening in shock at the words.

Before you could completely die from cringe he grabbed you in a robust hug. Something he had only done once before when you were very little and your pet loth-cat had died.

“I would be so honored to be your dad. And that’s why it’s even more important for you to get away from me from awhile.” He grabbed your face to wipe away the tears with his gloved hands.

“Remember how I said we survive in the shadows? My shadow may have been lifted up and I can’t afford any more losses. You are all I have.” he pleaded with you and you choked back your sobs to give him another hug before you boarded the next passenger ship to maker knew where. You’d be on the run for a while you knew.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

as always thanks for reading and thanks for requesting <3

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@brilliantbutbatty

@maulieber

@botherbother-blog

@emissarydecksetter

@wolfpack-arts-industries99

@a-dorin

[honeyhan-123]

The Artist ~ III

Summary: When Steve meets the reader at an art class he immediately becomes enticed and maybe, just maybe, she can help heal his wounded heart.

Warnings: none (smut in later chapters)

Word Count: 2.6k

AN: I am so sorry it took my a while to come out with the next part of the series but I hope y’all like it. Also Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays to everyone! 

As always a massive thank you to the beautiful @imanuglywombat​ who designed the amazing moodboard. 

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Part One ~ Part Two

Steve had woken up the next morning in a funk. It had started the night before when he had awkwardly walked back to the tower with Bucky. He wanted so badly to say something, to say anything to the other man but everytime he tried, he was just reminded of that night and his heart shuddered in his chest. He had thought they were finally in a good place again but it still hurt. He knew he was being selfish but he couldn’t help it. He had waited so long to finally get Bucky back and to have him so close but not in the way he wanted was torture for Steve.

It was as though the entire tower could feel Steve’s sour mood as hardly anyone bothered him throughout the day. He had spent most of it in the gym, either destroying yet another punching bag or sparing with his teammates as they drifted in and out of the room. The hours that he didn’t spend in the gym were occupied by a small amount of paperwork and mission planning. 

They had recently caught wind of some illegal arm dealing off the coast of Portugal and while it would have normally been left to the authorities, they had reason to suspect they were dealing with alien tech so the team had been brought in. There wasn’t much information circling about it so Steve knew he still had a couple weeks to plan but it still made him slightly ansty being so unprepared.

The hours passed slowly but finally it was six o’clock and Steve felt no guilt as he packed up for the day. There was a slight spring in his step as he left Avengers tower with his sketchbook tucked under his arm and his sour mood from earlier was almost completely forgotten. His legs jiggled as he took the J train out to Brooklyn, equal parts nerves and excitement ransacked their way through his veins. 

To help pass the time as the train rushed through underground tunnels Steve watched those around him. Not like he would on a mission trying to figure out whether or not they were actually civilians but as he imagined an artist would watch them. He tried to figure out how he would draw each and every and every passersby. He tried to memorise the way the old lady’s smile lines deepened as she spoke to who Steve assumed to be her grandson, or the way the little boy looked up to her with complete adoration in his eyes. 

He felt so much more at ease than he had all day as he stepped off the train and began the short walk towards the studio, his mind never once drifting to his brunet best friend. Despite the darkening sky the streets were packed as people bustled around and Steve had to squeeze his way through the throng of people. He smiled as he passed a group of carolers despite it only being late November. The familiar tune of ‘Good King Wenceslas’ floated through his ears and he stooped to donate a hefty sum in their collection tin, earning him a round of ‘thank yous’.  

The studio was only a block away so when he finally dashed up the steps, he could still hear the melodic voices of the group. As he pulled the door open, a warm gush of air washed over him and he couldn’t wait to get inside but he heard someone call out to him that made him pause. 

‘Hey! Hold the door please!’ He turned as you came bustling up the stairs, your face barely visible behind the large canvass you carried. Steve stood back and ushered you in ahead of him and you gave him a small ‘thanks!’ 

Already starting to feel a little too warm in your multiple layers, you set down the canvass just inside the entryway and shrugged out of your heavy winter jacket. ‘It’s bloody cold out there isn’t it? I reckon we’ll get some snow for sure this year.’ Steve nodded his head somewhat absentmindedly, trying to tear his eyes away from you. 

‘I - uh - yeah, I hope so. It used to snow heaps in the city when I was growing up but it’s been a while since we’ve had a proper winter.’ 

‘Oooh that must have been so nice! I’ve always wanted a white Christmas like in all those Hallmark movies but I grew up in Australia so that was never going to happen.’ 

‘You’re from Australia?’ The slight twang of your accent had been one of the first things Steve had noticed about you, but he thought maybe the average person wouldn’t have been able to tell. It definitely sounded like you had been in New York for a while. 

‘Yeah, Melbourne actually. I moved here after university. I have no idea why though. Probably some preconceived notion that to be an artist, you have to struggle in New York for a bit first.’ You laughed as you mocked yourself and Steve smiled, knowing exactly what you meant. ‘What about you? Are you originally from the Big Apple or are you a newbie like me?’ Your eyes locked with his as you asked and Steve felt his smile deepen. 

‘I was born and raised here in Brooklyn actually.’

‘Right of course, you literally said you grew up in the city earlier. Sorry about that.’ Steve shrugged away your apology telling you not to worry about it. The door was pulled open and you tried to move out of the way as a gust of cold air drifted inside following another class member who you smiled in greeting at.

‘We should probably head in, it’s nearly seven.’ Steve said as he checked his watch. ‘Do you need a hand with that?’ He gestured towards the large canvas leaning against the wall.

‘Oh yeah. If you wouldn’t mind? It’s just a bit awkward to carry by myself.’

‘Not at all.’ He easily lifted it into his arms and followed as you led the way down the hallway and into the studio. He had no choice but to follow as you headed towards one of the easels towards the front of the room, where you had sat last week. Even though he didn’t want to be noticed by the rest of the class, Steve couldn’t resist the temptation of sitting down in the empty stool next to yours. 

He watched as you pulled out your oil paint and started setting them on a very used palette and Steve was reminded of last night. He wasn’t sure if he should bring it up, as you hadn’t mentioned yet, but he thought maybe you just hadn’t seen him. After all he and Bucky had been towards the back. 

‘I uh, I saw you last night. At Ronan’s bar for the wine and art night.’ He clarified, determined not to seem creepy. ‘I was going to say hi but you seemed a little busy.’

‘Oh, really? I’m so sorry I didn’t even notice you were there! But how good is it!? $25 for unlimited wine plus some art fun. It’s just a shame they only run it during winter.’ You looked slightly remorseful and Steve couldn’t help but agree.

‘I didn’t realise that. I just found the flier over the weekend and decided to give it a try.’ 

‘Well I’m glad you did. If you don’t mind me asking, why the sudden interest in art?’

‘Oh, well I don’t know really. One of my friends, Nat, found my sketchbook that’s basically been abandoned the last few years and wouldn’t stop nagging me to get back into it. She and Tony are always pushing me to have a life beyond work.’

‘Tony as in Tony Stark?’

It only crossed Steve’s mind as he nodded that perhaps not all of Tony’s employees were on a first name basis with him. He needed to be more careful with the words that came out of his mouth. Eager to shift the conversation away from Tony he quickly divulged even more personal information. ‘I uh, I think it might have something to do with my friend, the one I told you about last time.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, growing up he was practically always my muse and we’ve only recently found each other again - he had to go away for a while. Maybe it’s because he’s back again that I’ve found the inspiration…’ He drifted off, unsure of what he was saying. ‘That probably didn’t make any sense.’

‘No, no, it did. I totally get what you mean. I used to have this dog, his name was Bear and growing up I used to draw him all the time. But when he passed away, I just didn’t feel that spark anymore, you know? It took me a while to find it again but when I did everything just made sense again.’ 

Steve was refrained from replying by the entrance of Madame Maxine to the studio as she quickly called the class to order. 

‘Today we have the wonderful Jerry modelling again. Since it is his second week, he will be modelling nude for us today.’ Her attention drifted back to Jerry who was wearing a dark red silken robe. ‘If you could please derobe Jerry and get settled into position B that would be brilliant.’ Jerry nodded and followed her instructions, setting himself down on the stool in front of the class. Steve had to admire his confidence. He knew that even if it was purely for art he could never model nude for anyone, he struggled enough doing promotional shots when he was fully clothed. 

Steve was too aware of you sitting next to him for the next hour. Everytime you shifted on your stool or bent to mix some more paints he noticed and his eyes followed your movements. As a result his own sketch was barely half complete by the time the hour was up and the small bell rang. He would definitely be voting to keep the position. 

Your painting on the other hand was beautiful. Despite the limited time you had not only managed to capture Jerry as he was, but also his essence. Steve was enraptured and stammered his way through a maze of compliments which you humbly shrugged away. 

‘I just have experience with Jerry, he modelled last winter and he works here part time too.’ 

‘He works here?’

‘Yeah Maxine rents out the studios to aspiring artists if they need a large space. I had this massive project over the summer on three canvases that were each four by five meters and my apartment is a shoebox so it never would have worked if it weren’t for Maxine.’

‘Wow, that sounds impressive.’ Steve could hardly imagine working on as big a canvass as you were currently using, never mind one nearly three times the size. ‘How long did it take you to finish?’

You glanced down, slightly avoiding his eyes. ‘It’s not… well it's not technically finished yet. I’m so close to being done with it but I just…’ You trailed off, unsure how to put it into words. 

‘There’s something missing?’ Steve filled in for you and you nodded eagerly.

‘It’s almost right but everytime I think it’s done I realise just how much I hate it and I have to leave the room to stop myself from painting over it again.’ Although Steve had never done something quite on the same wavelength he could relate to the need for perfection. He had lost count of how many pages he had ripped out of his sketchbook and thrown in the trash only to start all over again. 

‘What’s it of?’

‘It’s a collection, mainly of my favourite places in New York and it’s all about the human footprint… or at least, it’s meant to be.’ 

‘If it’s anything like your painting of Jerry I’m sure it’ll be incredible.’ 

Steve didn’t have to be able to see it to know that your cheeks would be flushing with heat at his compliment. He didn’t understand why you doubted yourself so much, it was clear that you were incredibly talented. ‘Thank you, you’re far too sweet.’ 

Maxine clapped her hands once again calling the attention of everyone. ‘It is now that time where we decide if we would like Jerry to stay as he is or if we would like him in a new position. Raise your hands for the same pose.’ Steve eagerly raised his hand along with you and most of the class.

After a quick headcount Maxine nodded firmly. ‘Well that settles it, Jerry, if you would be so kind as to return to position B.’ Once again the silk robe fell to the floor as Jerry repositioned himself on the stool and Steve promised that he wouldn’t let himself get as distracted by you this time around. 

+

By the end of the second hour Steve had a half decent looking sketch that paled in comparison to yours but he had long since resigned himself to its fate. 

‘Your painting is amazing.’ He told you truthfully and you smiled up at him abashed. 

‘Thank you Steve. That really means a lot.’

‘Well, it’s definitely true.’ Once again, Steve’s heart constricted in his chest as you flashed a sweet, bashful smile his way. He really felt a little ridiculous, being so completely enticed by someone he had only just met but being with you, it just all felt different. 

He watched as you packed up your paints and helped you carry the drying canvas over to the corner of the room where Maxine said you could leave it for the night. 

By the time you were by the coat rack you and Steve were the only students left in the studio, everyone else had filed out fairly quickly. Steve shoved his coat on and quickly plucked your own from the hook, holding it out for you. 

He wondered briefly if he was perhaps overstepped but the smile of gratitude you flashed him put him at ease as you daintily slid your arms into the open holes. ‘Thank you.’

‘Anytime.’ He walked with you out of the building and down into the street. 

‘Well, I’m heading this way.’ You pointed in the opposite direction of the train station and Steve felt a brief flash of chagrin. He wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye just yet and he got the feeling that you felt the same. 

‘I’m the other way. But uhh…’ The invitation to coffee at a cafe just down the street was on the tip of his tongue as his phone rang. ACDC’s Back in Black rang through the cool night air, breaking any tension that had been building up. 

You flashed what looked like a remorseful smile and raised a hand in farewell. ‘I’ll let you get that, but will you be at Ronan’s next week?’

‘Yeah, yes. I will.’ Steve hadn’t really thought about returning to the little bar but if that’s where you were going to be, that’s where he would be too. 

‘Great! I’ll uh, see you there.’ You flashed him that sweet and bashful smile once more before turning on your heel and getting lost in the crowds of New York. 

Steve watched you go for longer than he really should have and by the time he finally fished his phone out of his pocket Tony had nearly been sent to voicemail. 

‘Tony, what’s going on?’

+

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[sappyspeare]

alternate thief lord ending that has been in my mind rent free for about 4 years

 OK SO

back in fifth grade, we had to read a book for an English literature class, and it was Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke. it was a goddamned masterpiece and I loved it. 

now, I've reread it, and now I’m reminded of how much I adored that book and how much I miss the innocence of my childhood and also how similar it is to six of crows. honestly, the emotional attachment I have to this book is astronomical. 

so the ending (uh, SPOILERS) is that Scipio, aka the Thief Lord, gets his age bass boosted by a magical carousel and becomes like. 20 something-year-old dude. and the ending is pretty good ?? like, for a kids book ?? and also because Scipio is an impulsive idiot ??

BUT. I am a die-hard proscipio shipper. and now looking back. the ending doesn’t sit right.

so. ALTERNATE ENDING:

SCIPIO: head-canon: demisexual; gay; he/they

alternate future: I feel like Scipio wanting to be older was a cute plot point and part of his character, but what would have been far BETTER is if he STAYED a child. because when he’s 20 something in the ending, he’s still mentally a teenager. his mentality hasn’t exactly changed. so the first thing, Barbarossa still gets turned into a child, but Scipio gets pulled back from that, and he accepts his fate for the next few years, pools his assets until he’s 18, then promptly tugs the rug out from under his father’s feet, and leaves. he then uses his assets, and his knowledge from his schooling as a capitalists son, and opens schools, orphanages, and maybe a museum or something. a library. he also revives the Theater, because I said so. he gets a nice house in Venice overlooking the square, reading, writing, helping out with his various projects, being a philanthropist, etc.

Prosper:

head-canon: ace; bisexual (he/him) [no, I’m not projecting at all]

alternate future: Prosper stays in Venice. he grows up in Ida’s care until he’s 18, goes to college to study art history or something cute and fun and becomes a teacher at a local college. he learns to take a chill pill, and is the one who often calls the gang back together for reunions. after he gets into college though, he and Scipio move in together and the two of them live happily ever after because they are boyfriends and they are in love, your honour. at some point, after he becomes a teacher, they get married and adopt a little orphan girl, and they are also Best Dads.  

Hornet/Caterina: head-canon: lesbian; they/them

alternate future: oh my god. first of all, I love Hornet. second of all, I feel like they’re very curious about the world as a whole, so after they graduate high school (also raised in Ida’s care), they take a year or so to travel the world. when they come back to Venice, they have a cool girlfriend and settles down as a writer, and helps out Scipio with his projects and ventures. they eventually become a world-renowned writer, and the whole squad is so mcfricking proud of them.

Riccio: head-canon: bisexual; he/they [ya’ll cant tell me my man didn’t have a thing for Prosper]

alternate future: Riccio and Mosca are best boys and I will stand by that until the day I die. they start a gondola business together, and Scipio also gives them charge of taking care of the Theater. Riccio eventually buys a small apartment next to the canals and close to the town for him and Mosca. they also take in kids on the streets and help them out.

Mosca: head-canon: ace; pansexual; they/them

alternate future: as far as I remember, Mosca likes gadgets and mechanics and machines and stuff so I think they opened a little mechanics shop!! and of course, they moved in with Riccio, they take care of the gondolas and the theater's upkeep, and Mosca also helps out Hornet when they need help for a story about a mechanic or something. I also think they would take up art/painting in their free time.

Boniface/Bo:

head-canon: demisexual; he/him 

alternate future: okay so Bo is an interesting character for the future! I think of course he spent the rest of his childhood days with Prosper and Hornet and Ida, then probably went to school somewhere abroad. to me, it seems fitting that he comes back in his early twenties or so, settles into an apartment near his brother and everyone else, and helps Victor with the Private Investigator stuff like Scipio does in canon. given his chemistry with Victor and how he’s kind of a father figure to Bo, I thought it would be cute and fitting. Bo is smart, and he’s a curious soul like Hornet, so I do think he’s the type to seek out puzzles and try to solve them. he checks in on Ida every week, and they have tea together.

Ida Spavento: 

head-canon: lesbian; she\her 

alternate future: she raises the kids, helps Scipio with her connections to get him on his feet when he first starts his projects for orphanages and schools and such. she gets featured in some international photography magazine, which brings her a lot of renown and stuff. she takes care of the kids even when they’re older, they have dinner with her every month as tradition and she and Victor spend a lot of time bickering to each other practically every week.

Victor:

head-canon: aromantic; gay; he/him [he and Ida are wlw/mlm solidarity don’t @ me]

alternate future: he continues to be a PI because this man is magnificent and I would die for him. he helps Ida with the kids when they’re young, most of the gang call him Dad, he helps Hornet with her travels abroad, Prosper with his college applications, and helps Mosca and Riccio kick-start their stuff, like the Theater and the mechanic shop. later, Bo becomes his assistant and after a few years, he retires with Ida, but can still be found with Bo in his office at late hours, trying to piece together some case or another. 

So yeah! those are my ideal endings for each character. again, I love this book and the canon universe is incredible and I love it so much. I’m just a lonely gay idiot. 

I did not include Barbarossa or the aunt or the villains because I don’t like any of them and they got the ending I believe they fully deserved in canon. 

[bangtanstorytimetheater]

Virtuoso - A MYG Story

CHAPTER ONE

ONE

"We've decided to transfer you to the Chattanooga store."

My manager's words felt like a bad breakup. I felt my heart sink in my chest. This transfer, though unexpected and utterly terrifying, was going to be a huge leap in my career.

The music company I worked for was a small, but very well-respected chain in the tri-state area. I was proud to hold a position there, hosting field trips for elementary-aged children, and helping students demo instruments to find the perfect one. It was a rewarding job that I looked forward to every day, and I was eternally grateful for the opportunity. This transfer would have me leading the new field trip program that the company was getting ready to roll out at the other store.

I had worked at Bangtan Band Box, or BB's as the locals called it, for nearly four years. It was a great place to work, and I had watched business really take off over the time I'd been there. Thanks to a recent year-long renovation project at the store, all of the studios were now equipped with gorgeous new digital pianos and state-of-the-art soundproof walls. Everyone was thrilled with the way it turned out. We even had a grand re-opening block party. Of course, without fail, there was always at least one person who still had a complaint about something.

"The sound on these things just isn't the same. The keys don't feel right. It's not a piano..."

Ninety-two year old Jane Young was the sweetest little lady I had ever met. She was probably the only person at this store whose complaints didn't annoy me. We had grown incredibly close over the past few years I'd worked there. She was a sort of relic, being the very first ever piano teacher to teach lessons at BB's original location. Mrs. Young was the childhood piano teacher of the company CEO, and he had insisted on bringing her onboard when he opened up shop over thirty years ago.

"Jane, I completely understand where you're coming from," I said, reaching out to place my hand over hers on the counter, "They really don't feel the same as acoustic pianos, but admittedly they are pretty nice. At least we'll save a few thousand dollars a year on tuning. And I suppose all we can do at this point is just make the best of it, right?" I smiled, hoping to pull her out of her funk. Jane had been through so much over the years, spending nearly every day of the past three decades in this place, and she was not keen on all the sudden changes.

"You really are wise beyond your years, Faye. I suppose I could at least appreciate the new carpet. That iced tea stain from three years ago will certainly not be missed." she chuckled.

There's the Jane I was hoping to see today,  especially  today. Should I tell her? No, not yet.

The Following Monday

"Faye! How've you been?" Jin flashed his familiar warm smile and casually held up a hand in a lazy wave. He was always so soft spoken, but still cracking quiet jokes that had you in stitches. He'd worked at the Chattanooga BB's for a few years and we'd known each other from district meetings. He was still fairly new to being an assistant manager, but seemed to be pretty comfortable in his position.

"A bit nervous about the sudden change, but I'm looking forward to working with you. Glad that you're here on my first day. Makes it a lot easier, that's for sure." I sighed. Despite years of auditions and stressful interviews in my music career, meeting new people was still sometimes a bit stressful for me.

DING!

This store had a very loud door chime, entirely different from the one at my previous store. It was jarring, making me jump. Jin let out a louder laugh than I had ever heard come from him. I suppose being in his own store, he probably felt more at-ease than when he was attending the stuffy district meetings. It was nice to hear him laugh so genuinely.

"Didn't you guys have a bell like that at your store?" he asked, setting down his keys next to the register and taking off his coat.

"Nope. And I startle easily, so this will take some getting used to I bet."

"Hey man!" I heard a booming, but cheerful-sounding voice from somewhere over my shoulder. I turned to see a beautiful man with warm, honey skin walking towards me, his dusty blue sweater and light blue jeans accentuating his perfect tan. He had just walked in through the front door and was sweeping his wind-blown golden brown hair out of his eyes. He had a guitar case slung over his shoulder, covered in happy stickers - rainbow flowers, smiley faces, Korean hearts, and the words HOPE WORLD in big, bubbled letters across the center of the case lid.

He must be a teacher here.

"Hope! Hey, this is our new transfer, Faye Jansen. She just moved here from the Woodland Hills store. Faye, this is Hope." Jin said as he motioned towards the statuesque man in blue who was now standing face to face with me at the counter. Hope flashed me a huge, toothy smile as he carefully dropped his guitar case to the floor next to him and extended his hand to shake mine.

"Pleasure to meet you, Faye. What a nice surprise!" he smiled and squeezed my hand gently, "You can call me Hobi."

Why do I feel a little flustered? Is it warm in here or...?

Nevermind.

"Y-yes. Thank you. The pleasure is all mine. It is wonderful to meet you, Hobi. What instrument do you teach?" I asked, trying to turn the attention away from myself. I had seen the guitar case, so he was obviously a guitar instructor, but I was too flustered to think straight. I wasn't normally shy around anyone, but he was strikingly handsome, in a way I had not seen in real life before, so I almost needed a moment to catch my breath.

He seemed to notice that I was feeling a little flustered, glanced down at the guitar case then back up at me and smiled, seeming a little amused.

"Guitar. I assume you play something as well?" he asked, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of the clear plastic messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

"I studied classical voice in college, but I also play oboe and piano. I did all the demos for the field trips at the Woodland Hills BB's." I was proud of what I did, but I wasn't trying to sound too proud. Musicians can take perceived cockiness to be a huge turn-off.

"Ah, wind instruments. I envy that. I could never get past my initial few trumpet lessons as a kid. I thought I was going to pop a blood vessel in my face!" he laughed, "So instead I break old peoples' hips."

"Oh yeah?" I laughed, "That sounds terrible. Care to elaborate on that?"

"A group of us here have a jazz ensemble. We play shows every Thursday and Saturday. The older folks love to get up and dance. Let's just say that sometimes they dance themselves right into needing a wheelchair the next day. Anyway, we get pretty decent paying gigs at The Yeontan Lounge, playing all the old jazz standards. You should join us sometime. We love having other artists step in. Speaking of, Jin will you be at practice tonight?" Hobi said, suddenly turning towards Jin.

"You're in the ensemble too, Jin? That's amazing. What do you play?" I asked, excited to hear more about the group, and especially excited to hear them play.

"Upright bass. You should sing with us tonight, Faye. I heard you sing karaoke at the company party a few years ago. You sounded great. Are you still performing these days?" Jin asked.

"I haven't performed in quite a few months, but I'm sure I can manage a casual jam session tonight. What song should I prepare for you?" I asked, my disciplined mind already scrambling to come up with the perfect piece for my vocal range.

"Why don't you sing At Last by Etta James? That's a classic. Can't go wrong there." Jin suggested, glancing over at Hope for approval.

Hobi stuck out his lower lip and nodded, raising his eyebrows. He seemed pleased at the song suggestion.

"Hearing a classical singer take on At Last is going to be something special, I bet. Looking forward to it," he said. "See you tonight."

"Likewise," I said, watching him walk towards the hall of studios.

DING!

There's that goddamn door chime again.

Startled at the sound, I clumsily dropped the pen I had been holding against my notebook, and it loudly clinked on the glass countertop.

As I reached to pick it up, embarrassed at my unintended slapstick routine, out of the corner of my eye, I could see someone walking in my direction from the front door.

I looked up, and it was as if time slowed to a crawl. My eyes met the gaze of a tall, slender man with shaggy black hair and smooth, porcelain skin, wearing a button-up denim jacket, skinny jeans, and converse - all black. He didn't stop walking, but our eyes locked until he was out of view.

Instantly, I felt this surge of electricity throughout my body, as if he physically touched me when he walked past me. It was strange... and exhilarating. His deep chocolate eyes had so much fire behind them, they burned straight into my soul.

I had to know his name.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thank you for reading the first chapter of my book! I'll be updating every Sunday at the very least, but hopefully more frequently than that.

Looking forward to your feedback and suggestions!

This first chapter is dedicated to the lovely 0o_pervy_noona_oO who started me on my Bangtan ff addiction, and inspired me to write my own.

[mellomedia]

Youth Culture

For Media & Society’s first blog post, our class watched Euphoria, Mid90s, Mean Girls, Kids, and The Breakfast Club. If you haven’t figured out the theme yet, it’s youth culture. Most of these films were set in the 80s and 90s before this current generation. This is the first generation where our lives are saturated by mobile technology and social media (Divecha, 2017). But no matter what generation, youth culture has many common behaviors, or misbehaviors.

Often when I watch a film or read a comic book, I wonder if I relate to the story or anyone in it. I looked for anything in common I might have with one of the characters in the five films we watched. I can identify with Ray from Mid90s the most. I’m not a die-hard skateboarder like Ray. In fact I can’t skateboard at all, but I dedicate all my time and energy into art and animation. While we have different interests, I can relate to Ray’s passion for something he enjoys and the energy he puts into it. Ray is the top skateboarder in his group and practiced every day. All my spare time is spent drawing and taking online animation courses. My goal is to always do better than what I did yesterday. Words to describe Ray would be the same way I describe myself: down to earth, not concerned with fitting in, my own person, caring, always willing to help, and a very loyal friend. When Stevie joins the skateboard crew in the film Mid90s, he finally digs up some money to buy Ruben’s old, used skateboard. Stevie gets injured while attempting an insane jump over a hole in a roof and breaks his skateboard. Ray sees how much Stevie is trying to fit in, no matter how many falls he takes, he gets back up. Ray has a big heart and builds Stevie a new skateboard. As I mentioned, I’m not a skateboarder, but I enjoy trying to make people smile with my art. I enjoy drawing a cartoon of a friend to help them to get out of a funk or just listen to whatever it is they are going through. 

These films all share a few common themes. One theme is belonging. I admit I looked up the term “fitting in” and it was compared to belonging. Fitting in is defined as to be like other people in a group – what they wear, how they act, how they look. (Pace, 2018) Belonging is a basic human need – it is about acceptance – being where you want to be and being where you are wanted (Pace, 2018). A few examples are Stevie (Mid90s) wants to be accepted into the skateboard crew; Brian (The Breakfast Club) brings a flare gun to school as a suicide attempt because he didn't feel he was good enough; and Cady (Mean Girls) is the new girl trying to get accepted by The Plastics.

My freshman year in high school definitely falls into the theme of belonging. I struggled with speech and have a learning disorder. And at the time I had zero confidence in socializing. I’d walk over to a group of kids in the cafeteria just to try to get involved in the conversation, but I couldn’t form sentences quick enough to jump in. I would be the weird kid just standing there. One day my speech therapist asked me what I wanted to improve and I told her I wanted to gain confidence in socializing. She told me the best way to do this would be to just try to talk to more people. Well in high school that worked with some kids, but not all. I’ll never forget one day in the cafeteria I was trying to find a place to sit and eat lunch. I saw an empty chair at a table where a ‘friend’ was sitting. The group was taking turns roasting one another. At one point another kid challenged me. I was doing fine until he said, “You know people are only nice to you because they don’t want to hurt your feelings.” That hurt like hell. He was referring to my speech impairment. I got up from the table and walked away. And that ‘friend’ at the table didn’t defend me at all. One girl came running over to make sure I was alright. I was pissed and hurt. I was not alright. Just so you don’t think I went off the deep end and had a miserable high school experience, I actually gained a great friend in high school that day. Alex, who was a senior, saw me leave track practice early. My head just wasn’t into track, so I went to sit in the empty cafeteria hoping to clear my head. He asked how things were going and I told him what happened that day. He told me, “It’s not easy finding out who your real friends are. But don’t change for anyone and don’t try to be like anyone else. Just be you.” I’ll never forget how he took the time to talk to me. After his advice, I could care less about belonging.

Another common theme between all five films is rebellion. When they aren’t skateboarding, most of the characters in Mid90s spend their time partying, drinking, and doing drugs. In The Breakfast Club, each character is in detention because they rebelled in some way. Why else would they be in detention? Every character in Kids was a rebel, actually more like a criminal. I bet the writer of the film was too.

A third theme is “bro” culture. “Bro” culture is defined as people who are bullies but at the end of the day they have your back, like a brother (Sloothunter42, 2018). Two great examples of “bros” are John (The Breakfast Club) and Ian (Mid90s). Throughout The Breakfast Club, John constantly insults the other kids in detention. He even insults the principal. The group escapes detention to wander the hallways. When the principal sees them, John saves the group by telling them to go back to the library while he distracts the principal. This link shows you the scene I’m explaining: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Iq7MRlHg5I (Hughes, 1985). Not something you would have expected from a bully, but you would from a “bro.” In Mid90s, Stevie’s brother, Ian, beats the crap out of him every chance he gets. But when Stevie is laying in a hospital bed after a car accident, his brother is there by his side. He even shares his precious orange juice.

Now onto one of my favorite things in life, music! I put together a playlist that relates to my adolescent experience. In no particular order, here are 10 songs and what each means to me. But let me point out that some song lyrics mean something to me, while with other songs it was the energy it gives off. I’m all about positive energy. First song is “Mr. Blue Sky” by Electric Light Orchestra. I first heard this song during the movie Guardians of the Galaxy. This song kept me motivated and positive during high school. If I was having a bad day, this was my ‘go to’ song. I also listened to it every day on my way to school. Next is “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley, a.k.a. CeeLo Green. This song reminds me of my mind, imagination, and the stuff I think about. I always have a trillion things going on in my head. I guess that explains my poor focus skills and super procrastination. “Inner Ninja” by Classified is another upbeat song. A few lines that always stuck in my head are, “I find my inner strength and I re-up; Here we go, I know I've never been the smartest or wisest; But I realize what it takes; Never dwell in the dark cause the sun always rises.” My junior year of high school I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It has and still is life-changing and as much as I don’t let it change who I am, I’m human. But as the song says, don’t dwell on the negative, look for the positive. I always remind myself of the positive. “Through the Fire and Flames” by DragonForce always fueled my brain when I was tired of doing homework or studying. To me the lyrics mean to keep moving forward no matter how difficult. Just look at what your goal is and don’t give up. Plus this song has one hell of a guitar solo that is very motivating. Michael Jackson is one of my favorite artists and “Man in the Mirror” reminds me how important it is to try to do good in the world and make a positive change. Regardless of culture, color, religion, and disability, we are all capable of making good changes in the world. I tried this on a much smaller scale in high school by volunteering at the food pantry and community events. “Clint Eastwood” by Gorillaz is one of many songs by this group that I like. It’s not so much the words I relate to, but I love the animation in their music videos. I remember the first time I saw one of their videos I thought how cool and mysterious it was that we only see the singers as cartoons. We are never shown who they really are. I like the fact that it’s different. Different is good in my world. “Intergalactic” by Beastie Boys reminds me of breakdancing and dancing in general. I love to dance and looked forward to every prom and homecoming dance at high school. “Without Me” by Eminem reminds me that no matter how much people criticize you, you can be very successful at what you enjoy doing. The last song on my list is “Take Me Out” by Franz Ferdinand. To be honest, I just like the beat of the song and it’s one of those songs I listened to over and over in high school.

So that wraps up my Youth Culture blog. I hope it gave you a better understanding of how I relate to the assigned films. But let me make one thing clear, I do not relate to anything in the film Kids. Not one thing.

Below is my self portrait of what goes through my mind. 

Artwork by: Marcello Laudato

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.14]

Chapter:  Aquila

Summary: Lunch dates and art shows 

Warnings:  It’s kind of a sad chapter which is so unusual for Astrophile and I feel bad about it, okay??? Ends happily, though.  Or the promise of happiness. 

A/N:   That much closer to the end lovelies. 3 more chapters to go!  Send me love because I’m needy, okay??

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Y/n has been in a funk since that day. 

That terrible, awful day she never wants to speak about. The day she realized Bucky really is only her friend and all the handholding at the zoo was merely friendly, and the flirting was only playful banter she mistakenly took for flirty teasing. She’s aware how laughable the thought of forgetting the entire day is and just how foolish it was for her to think they were anything other than friends.  It’s not as if he has changed the way he has treated her; his actions towards her have stayed the same since they met. Maybe he’s a little more comfortable and a bit more sure of himself around her, but nothing has changed between them. 

In the three months, two week and five days they have known each other, nothing has changed to make her think that his heart was longing for hers the way her heart wanted to belong to him.  

Though she supposes the more significant issue, Bucky’s been dating someone else and never bothered to mention the woman to Y/n.  She thought they were closer than that. She believed he would at least subtly drop a hint that he had started talking to another woman. All those nights they spent talking on the phone he never once brought it up and now grabbing his hand the way she did felt incredibly inappropriate. But she could have sworn that night on the phone when she was drifting off he called her babydoll. It must have been the sleepy twilight playing tricks on her. 

Natasha told her as much. She said there was no way Bucky was seeing someone else and she didn’t know about it, more importantly, there was no way he was seeing someone and let her into Ori’s life. Someone was playing a trick on her. Natasha told her, you’re the only woman he would allow in Ori’s life like that. He keeps his dating life separate from her. It was nice to hear, but it didn’t mean all that much in the end. Ori’s the brightest little girl Y/n has ever met; she wouldn’t put it past her to have figured it out regardless of Bucky’s intentions. 

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened between you and Barnes?” Tony asks as his arm drops behind her on the back of the dark blue couch in her office. After having refused to meet Tony for lunch for the third time this week, he came by with tacos from her favorite place and flipped the open sign to closed. After he purchased the books of all her customers that were currently waiting and politely asked them all to leave. 

And added on their way out, the owner is actually very nice, and I promise not to kick you out when you come back, and you all better come back. 

Y/n narrows her eyes in suspicion as his question tumbles around her head. Tony shouldn’t know anything happened between her and Bucky. The only person she mentioned it to was Natasha so Tony shouldn’t be giving her that know-it-all smirk right now. Tony sighs through her silence and points to her calendar on the wall behind them.

“You erased movie night with Bucky from Thursday. We’ve been talking for two hours now, and your phone hasn’t gone off once. He called you more when we were dating. So what happened?” 

Her eyes lingered on the faded pencil, and little pieces of pink rubbed off eraser; she learned long ago to never write anything down in permanent ink.

Long ago, when the books she read still had pictures on every page, and she was just beginning to learn of the stars, black ink and curly script taught her nothing should be written in ink. It was a conference. Just a simple lecture. It was only supposed to be four days, and then they would be home. Her parents had promised five years old her they would be back in four short days, but they never made it to the conference, and they never came home. The ink on the calendar in the kitchen wouldn’t come off no matter how hard she tried. 

It’s been pencil from that moment on.

“I don’t know,” Y/n says with a shrug and pushes her plate away from her, leaning in to Tony’s side. She couldn’t force herself to eat another bite. She doesn’t have the stomach to eat a plate full of anything right. Tacos or not.

“I thought maybe…” Y/n let her voice trail off and the conversation still, she didn’t want to admit what she thought.   

“You thought what?” Tony urges, bumping their knees together in an encouraging nudge. She looks up from where she’s leaning on him and gives a small shrug, “I thought maybe he was asking me out on a date, so I was excited. It was dumb.” 

Tony shakes his head and presses a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll tell you one thing, the two of you are made for each other, you know that?” 

She slowly sits up and pulls her legs under her, confusing yet curious gleam in her eyes. “What does that mean?“ 

He chuckles and pulls her plate towards him, stealing a bite of one of her untouched tacos as he casually suggests, "Bring him to my wedding." 

Y/n blinks and blinks again. She clearly didn’t hear that right. She shakes the fog away and swiftly drags the plate away from him before being her interrogation, "I’m sorry your what?"

Tony reaches for the dish, but she deliberately keeps it just out of his reach. Tony huffs in defeat and abandons the tacos. 

"Did I not mention I told Pepper…Well, I actually blurted it out in an argument, but I told her that I might be absolutely, unequivocally, in love with her, at least I think so. Never been in love with anyone but her so I don’t have a lot to compare it to and for some reason I can’t figure out she said she loved me too. Happy? Can I have the tacos now?” 

She snorts and passes the plate back over so it’s within his reach once again. It did seem a little fast, but it’s Tony so part of her wasn’t all that surprised. 

"And that means getting married right away? You don’t want to just date and see where it goes?” 

Tony sets her plate back on the table and wraps both of her hands in his. 

"Y/n, I’ve loved her for half my life. When you wait as long as I have, you really don’t want to wait anymore. Though Pepper does want to wait. A year. She’s actually in charge. I pretend it’s me. Don’t tell anyone I said that. She settled on next July.  Bring Barnes with you and maybe by the end of the night, one of you will finally admit how you feel.” 

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at how giddy Tony sounded. Perhaps waiting wasn’t the right choice every time. She has always waited until she was one hundred percent sure the decision she was making was the right choice, ensuring she wasn’t making any mistakes, double-checking, and triple-checking. Maybe she waited too long and checked those little boxes too many times. She should have said something the moment she knew she felt something for Bucky. On the balcony with the peach-colored sky in front of her and delicate whispers in her ear because pinky promises weren’t the only thing exchanged that night. 

There’s no point in dwelling on all that now. Whatever they had was over, if they ever had anything at all.

"I’ll be there. Not sure if Bucky will come with me. Things are weird now. I tried to talk to him, but I felt funny knowing he has someone else. Plus, his girlfriend might not like the idea of him going to someone’s wedding as my date, Tony.” 

Tony furrows his brows and shakes his head, a look of thorough disbelief written on his face.

“Good grief,” Tony sighs dramatically. 

“Just ask him, will you? He will go if you ask him. I don’t think anyone could keep him from being your date and I am pretty sure this fake girlfriend you’re talking about doesn’t stand a chance next to you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and I’m never wrong. It’s a curse really.” 

Fake girlfriend? Yeah, okay. Y/n wants to tell Tony he is about to be wrong for the first time in his life and can join Natasha on the losers bench. He didn’t see the look on Ori’s face when she asked for that book. Whoever the woman is, she’s important to Bucky and to Ori. Just because he has a girlfriend, doesn’t mean they can’t be friends though. They were friends when she dated Tony, so why should this be any different? Bucky held her heart then too, she only couldn’t see it at the time.  

If Y/n asked him to go to Tony’s wedding as a friend it didn’t have to mean more than that. Friends do favors for friends all the time, and this was just that. A simple favor because it could never be more than that. They would probably never be more than friends, and she would have to be okay with that. She drops her head back onto the headrest of the couch in her office and spots the clouds through her small window and she can’t help but wonder what Bucky is doing right now. 

--------

“You grumpy because she canceled on you?” 

Bucky sighed and tipped his head back on the deck chair and looked up at the clouds. Too early for stars, but he wonders where Y/n is and if she’s looking up at the same clouds. Was he grumpy because Y/n cancelled on him? Sam usually didn’t ask questions he doesn’t already know the answer to, but Bucky isn’t so sure he knows the answer to this question. No. No, he’s not– Okay, maybe a little. In truth, he just misses her. He misses talking to her until she falls asleep and their video chats and her laugh and lemon pancakes. 

Yeah, they still talk every day, but it’s different, strange. She’s distant and off, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. So if he is grumpy at all, which he isn’t, that’s why. He doesn’t know how to get them back, and he has no idea how to fix this.

“Nope,” Bucky finally answered, faint but curt. 

“Man… you’re in love with her. Can we just cut the crap and figure out where you went wrong so we can make a plan to fix whatever you did,” Steve nudges Sam’s arm and shakes his head, silently telling him to go easy on the teasing. He’s known Bucky his entire life, and he’s never once seen him this tore up because of a woman he likes. 

“No, I’m not,” Bucky counters.  “Besides, even if I was, I don’t want to bring some woman into Ori’s life just so she can bolt on her.” 

Steve puts a hand on Sam’s shoulder to stop him, but Sam shrugs it off. Now, he’s pissed and he’s done with whatever game Bucky is playing. 

“First of all,  she is not just some woman. You’re upset and hurting so you’re saying some dumb shit right now. I’ll let it slide. Second, Y/n didn’t bolt on Ori. She’s still spending time with her. You just said Nat took her to the bookstore yesterday. Y/n is spending just as much time with Ori as she was before, and peanut has no idea what’s going on. You’re mad she’s not spending time with you.”

Bucky has nothing to say to that because Sam is right. He’s jealous and sad and misses her more than he wants to admit to anyone – himself included. If he doesn’t admit it, if he doesn’t say it out loud then it’s not real, and he still has time.There’s still the illusion he has time with her. 

“Have you tried talking to her and asking what happened?” Steve asks, much gentler than his other half. 

“Yeah, I text her. ‘Bout twenty times, and her replies are weird and stiff. You think I just stopped talking to her completely? I tried, okay?”

Sam rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath, “For the love of…” He sits up and meets Bucky’s eyes speaking slow and clear, “Have you talked to her in person? Spelled it all out?  Because I swear the two of you need it in a flashing neon sign written out plainly for you both to see.” 

Bucky shifts in his chair and looks down at the empty bottle of water in his hand. Of course, Bucky has thought about driving to the bookstore. He thought about asking her if he did something, or said something to make her drop their night together. He’s thought about it at least a hundred times since she cancelled and every time he’s made it to the front door he stops himself because if he went there only to have her tell him to leave he doesn’t think his heart could take it. 

“She cancelled our date,” Bucky is quick to remind them. “I’m not going to just show up at her bookstore and be a creep when she obviously doesn’t want to be alone with me.” 

 “Your what?” Sam asks, a bit too eager. “She cancel;ed your what?” 

Bucky looks up to find Sam and Steve grinning at him and being set on fire would be a less painful death than this. He chucks his empty bottle of water at the couple who separate long enough to avoid the harmless plastic.

“Shut up. I hate you both,” Bucky stands up checking his phone before slipping it back into his pocket. No new messages. No missed calls. No replies. Not that he expected any. “Alright,” He cleared his throat of any lingering emotions. “Ori has that art show tonight. She’s submitting her fireworks in a jar and parents are supposed to put in their votes for the best artist so I’ll catch you jerks later.” 

“You bringing Ori over after her thing tonight? Just because you’re missing out on your date doesn’t mean we shouldn’t get to see our niece!” Sam shouts after him. Bucky doesn’t bother turning around, simply raises his hand and lets it drop back by his side.

“Yeah, Yeah. Be here around eight.”

Because a night alone was just what Bucky was hoping for. 

-----

Bucky stood next to Ori’s spot at the table her class was assigned to. Apparently, their classes were given animal mascots and her class was the Panda Class. Her table had a big Panda drawn on the bulletin board paper lining the tiny table. Bucky was helping her set up until about ten minutes when he was told by a certain curly-haired little girl that he was, truthfully, doing it all wrong and he should wait there to make sure everyone finds her spot. He has no idea what she is talking about. Bucky thought he put the poster board in the right spot and he’s the only one coming, so Bucky’s not entirely sure who he is supposed to help get to the table. 

Probably best he doesn’t ask, she gets her stress management from her Uncle Steve.

He spins around to check out their competition while Ori works, and there are a few pretty impressive displays. There are several pieces of artwork with bubblegum wrappers and another with melted candy turned into glass and Bucky’s a little worried about their changes. Not that fireworks in a jar aren’t the coolest, most original projects in the room but the parents had to vote (and yeah, Bucky thought that was pretty fucked up when they sent the flyer home) and Bucky knows adults aren’t always fair.

Now, Bucky isn’t proud of this, but for a brief moment, he thought about taking Natasha up on her offer to make sure Ori wins. He wasn’t sure what that would entail but knowing Natasha someone’s pigtails would be clipped by the end of the night. The idea of his bright-eyed girl leaving in tears had his hackles raised, but that wouldn’t be the best way to teach Ori about the real world, losing and earning your wins– Or that’s what Steve said anyway. 

“Daddy!” Ori squealed. “She’s here! She’s here!”

Bucky frowns as Ori rushes by him heading for the front doors of the cafeteria turned art gallery. Who the hell is Ori talking about? Bucky turns around in time to see Y/n hugging Ori against her, beaming like she does anytime she sees Ori. Y/n let Ori take her hand and leads her through the crowd, heading right for him. She looks anxious, maybe, or it could be the crowds. Y/n doesn’t like big crowds. Bucky’s not sure if he’s the reason behind her nerves, but she definitely looks nervous and so damn beautiful. 

Y/n stops in front of him letting Ori run back to the spot with her nametag written in glitter, leaving the two alone for the first time in far, far too long. Bucky catches a whiff of her lemon lotion, and that almond body spray she uses and his heart stutters back to life as if he hasn’t been living without a single beat since he lost her.

“Hey, December.”

Bucky grins for the first time in five days.

“Hey, Beck.”

Previous // Next 

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

14. Exposing the Void Pt. 2

So, okay... This chapter kinda fucked me up and I rush edited because like... I just want to get past this whole thing. I think it’s important to note that outside of 10 episodes, the concepts we were given in I.T. would be drawn out a little longer and take more time to impact the characters and also for them to deal with and go through. So, as I warned previously, rough content ahead. 

Word count 5331 Trigger warnings: Gas lighting,revenge porn, slut shaming, mental abuse,ableist terminology,violence

Previous

It couldn't really just be in her head, right? Had the opinions of strangers made her THAT far away from reality? Simon definitely “liked” every single comment where someone was being mean to her this morning… but by the time she asked him about it, none of the comments were liked. She knew she didn't imagine it. It happened for a few days before she flat out asked, "Are you fuckin' with me, Dude?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"With this liking the comments thing you've been doing, then undoing?" He stared at her like he was worried about her. "It's not funny. If you keep doing that, I'm gonna block you." 

He furrowed his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, turning away from her. "Maybe you need to take a break from social media. It's getting to you." 

It wasn't "getting to" her! HE was getting to her. Playing these games that she was unsure of why he wanted to mess with her like that. He knew she was sensitive about criticisms. To like the comments? Then unlike them later, so she felt crazy?? Wait… Grace… this is Simon. Why would he do that to you? Maybe you DO need to take a break from social media.

Her parents seemed as happy as she would expect about her wanting to go to college to get more pulp for her performance arts. They weren't easily excited, so their small approval was enough for her. 

But… for whatever reason… Simon had talked to them about her issues with the Internet and after a long lecture about how they didn’t raise her to be weak and insecure, she was really at her wits end with Simon. She didn’t say it, but she was pretty irritated about it, to the point that she found herself snapping at him over things, then regretting it when he looked taken aback and hurt. Sometimes, she would see a flicker of anger and expect him to explode, so that they could finally just have their fight and be done with it… but he would always just turn off his reaction, which was probably something that he learned from her, but boy was it infuriating for her to go through. 

If SHE fussed after he had diffused things, then she knew that she would be being a bitch. So, she simply choked down the anger and got over it after a little while. It’s just that those moments were frequent enough that it soon felt better to not even speak to Simon at all.

She signed up for talent shows and amateur night spots. She went on auditions for local productions. She threw herself into recitals and built her resume. She shut Simon out and focused on her skills for the future. Despite the fact that Simon was equally busy, she found that he managed to always be at her house whenever he wasn’t busy. They weren’t even kicking it as much. Usually, he was with her parents. 

She would come home and chime, “I’m home!” And Simon would say, “Welcome home!” from another room. At first, she would go to greet him, give him a kiss, and speak to her parents, but closer to spring, she didn’t even announce whenever she got in. She came in, listened to see if she heard his voice in the house (usually did), and she would go to her room and start working on whatever music project she was into.

Followers were asking her for new content, but she’d always just say, “I’m working on something.” She would see the chats though - the sorrow and fear of fans that the haters had scared her away from the industry. She would turn on Summer Walker, Ari Lennox, Cleo Sol, Quin, Sza… She would let them sing comfort and confidence into her while she got washed up and set up to work. She would know that she was influenced by their work, but try not to just copy any of them. Plus, she added much more bass to anything that she made. She practiced rapping sometimes, but she often felt silly and knew that she would sound like a Kids Bop album if she actually tried to record her rapping. But, in certain songs, she was able to get away with distorting her voice a little and making portions of the rap match with the songs.

She liked to experiment with various styles, make beats, have a vibey sound that you could also shake to. “Black hippy girl with funk and soul, that’s mellow, but you can groove to it,” was how she tried to describe her work. There wasn’t a genre that really captured it well.

She worked on covers of songs, and made videos like Todrick Hall did, where she put together a cover singing multiple parts… but she didn’t want to share them and be accused of copying. She was copying, but only to see how her own would be. She rented studio time to do demos. 

She came out of the studio one night, mentally preparing to go home and see Simon there with her parents, but he was outside when she came out. It startled her, but she smiled and said, “Hey… didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Doesn’t seem like you ever expect to see me,” he said, emotionless. 

“Yeah. You’re usually SUPER BUSY with my parents,” she said bitterly, but cheerfully.

“Are you still mad that I told them about your Internet problems?” 

“No. I just think it's weird how much time you spend around them. They’re my parents and I don’t even spend that much time around them.” He sighed, annoyed. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“This is the third night that you’ve been here and left roughly at the same time. If anybody is watching you, they might know your pattern. You should be more careful. You’ll make it easy for enemies to hurt you.” It was a weird thing to say, she had to admit. It creeped her out. His tone and the suggestion, BUT, it also was Simon, who was naturally paranoid, protective, and proactive. So, she figured that he was in worried boyfriend mode and got into the car with him.

Simon wasn’t around her parents as much for a few days. She had some peace, but also had time to think about how much she missed him. She even beat herself up a little and reminded herself that she KNEW this would happen. This was why she didn’t want them to date in the first place. It had ruined their friendship! 

She texted him: Hey. I miss you.

Simon: Just a few days ago you didn’t even want to say hi when you came home.

Grace: I mean… I miss you being my friend. We’re where I was afraid we’d be if we dated.

Simon:... Do you want to break up with me???

Simon: Because a text isn’t a nice way to do that.

Simon: And this is a really bad time.

Simon: DO YOU WANT TO BREAK UP WITH ME?

Grace: No. I just want my friend back.

Simon: I want my friend back too. But, you’re the one who changed, Grace. Not me.

Grace: I thought all of my changes were positive, though. So… why didn’t they bring us closer together?

Simon: (Read) 

She didn’t hear back from him until the middle of the night, when her phone rang, but she missed his calls. She usually was a pretty heavy sleeper, and she took melatonin, because she could never seem to go to bed at night. 17 missed calls by morning and she called him back first thing. “Simon? Is everything okay?” 

Simon looked at his bloodied knuckles and lied, “Yeah. Sorry I called so much last night. I figured you’d be asleep, but I just… needed my friend.”

“What happened?”

“I got into a fight with my dad.”

“He’s home? What was the fight about?”

“I accidentally knocked something down in his workroom and I never picked it up. Listen, I know that you hate me spending time around your parents, but could I crash there a few nights?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Thanks.” he hung up and looked at his father, who was drunk and passed out, his face pounded in from Simon’s fists. He might be stuck on that couch for a while. He might not even remember the fight that they had the previous night. But, Simon made sure to let out every portion of rage that he ever had towards the man. Surprisingly, it gave him clarity on some things. He had been struggling with whether or not he intended to destroy Grace. She seemed to be coming around in her texts last night. Maybe… he could forgive her. Maybe they could make things work. Even if he couldn’t have her, maybe he could have his friend back. He was going to spend a few night there and try to assess everything. 

.

Thursday through Sunday bliss for Grace. By Monday, as she sat in class, sniffling, her tissues now wet beyond repair, she still couldn’t wrap her head around what had happened. Simon said that he must’ve left his web cam going from when he was practicing his arguments for an upcoming debate. It was important, because they were nearing the end of the school year and this one one of the final debates. 

She hadn’t even planned on anything happening between them, but they had been doing so horribly lately and she wanted, more than anything to just feel like she was on his good side again. Hell, sex wasn’t the worst thing a person could do and she had done far more for Simon in her life. So, though it took her a moment to settle herself into being comfortable with it, it wasn’t like she was morally opposed or even repulsed by it. She didn’t have urges, but her parts worked. With enough focus, she knew she could enjoy it and perhaps it was stupid of her to think that it would or could fix anything, but she at least hoped it might help.

Monday morning, everyone was looking at her strangely. Some laughed when she passed. Some whispered. NOBODY seemed threatened. Shana finally broke the silence with a very loud announcement of, “Good Morning, Internet’s Honeypot!” Everyone laughed. That wasn’t funny. 

She rolled her eyes, but approached Shana. “What are you so cheery about?”

Shana feigned shock and asked, “Oh, you don’t know, Give It Up Grace? It seems that somebody was naughty over the weekend. I’d even say, downright NASTY!” The girls with Shana started laughing and didn’t stop whenever Grace threw them a warning glare.

Something was wrong with this picture. “What are you talking about, Shana?” 

“Your boyfriend says that somebody stole his laptop this morning from the journalism room. A likely story. He’s the only thief in this school. But, whatever the truth is about that, this certainly is authentic,” Shana turned her phone to show Grace what was very clearly her, in a very personal situation with Simon. You couldn’t really see him, but she was certain that anybody who saw this could make him out. She slapped the phone out of Shana’s hand and rushed away. Every pair of eyes that fell upon her seemed to know… they all must’ve seen it. Where was Simon? Had he DONE this to her? She checked the journalism room, where he was talking to a group of boys who she knew weren’t even in journalism… “Simon!” She called.

The boys all began hushed laughter and Simon smiled at her, kicked one’s chair and warned him, “Knock it off.” He met her at the door and she was breathing hard. “You… okay?” 

“No! Have you not seen that recording? A recording, mind you, that I didn’t know about nor consent to! Simon, PLEASE tell me that you didn’t record us without checking with me… Tell me that somebody who has it out for me hid a camera or something and…”

“What are you talking about Grace?”  He asked. She studied his face. If there was anything that he should be worried about, there was no sign of it on his face. 

“Shana said that your laptop got stolen,” she said. “Was there anything on it that you need to tell me about?”

He blushed, “I mean… I do have quite a porn collection,” he said, laughing. “And I found it! I’d apparently just left it in the library. Why?”

“Did you record us this weekend? Yes, or no?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed, “Is that something that you think I’m capable of?”

The conversation went in circles of her insisting that SOMEONE recorded them and him finally going through his laptop to see the video in question, then denying realizing that he had done this. But, since he left his laptop in the library, anybody could have sent it out. “Why would I do this, Grace? You worshiped me in the moments following this, why would I use it against you?”

“I don’t know!” She squealed, crying and embarrassed and now guilty because she had accused him. He gave her a hug and she cried on him. He walked her to class, but he didn’t seem to mind the whispers that were echoing in her head as they passed people. But, he was a boy.

Nobody was judging him the way that they were judging her. She would hear details like, “You can see that he’s not even wearing protection! She has no self respect.” or “I don’t think he pulled out. Good thing her family can afford abortions.” Then there was Shana. Shana had been waiting YEARS to knock Grace off of her pedestal, and she took every chance she got to do just that. 

“Ooop. Backshots Ballerina in the building, Girls!” or “Mommy in the Making Monroe has arrived!” The worst part was that Simon wasn’t defending her. He wasn’t telling Shana to shut her fucking mouth. He wasn’t glaring at people laughing at her. He… seemed to be enjoying the attention. Then again, the attention he got was positive. She saw guys fist bump him and clap him on the back. She saw him laughing with people and them all quiet down when she approached. Simon always had an excuse as for why - none of which were related to “this obsession of yours.” 

This obsession? The entire student body had seen her entire body. It was circulating and they were shaming her for a private moment she shared with someone she loved… and he wasn’t even phased by it. Did he even fucking love her??? Was this typical boy bullshit? 

“You know Grace, your insecurity was cute at first, but now it’s starting to become pathetic,” Simon said. “You’re a public figure. People will always have something to say about you. Suck it up.” She slapped him in the face and stormed off, equal parts satisfied and mortified that she had reacted that way. She didn’t see the smile on his face as he rubbed his cheek. He was breaking the void down. She was losing respect and she was losing her cool. It had been so long since she reacted in violence. It kinda turned him on. It was like seeing old her for a moment. Even if it was directed at him.

.

Maybe she could get on a train and just leave town. Cash in her trust fund, buy a bungalow. Never look back… “Grace?” a boy’s voice said. She turned to see one of the Apex dudes. He bowed his head and she tapped her right cheek with two fingers. He came forward and held a sunflower in his hand. “I’m sorry that you’re having such a bad day,” he said and extended it to her.

“What is this?” 

He looked confused. “Tribute.”

“We’re still doing that? Nobody has said a word to me all day…”

“Is the Apex over?” he asked.

She sighed and took the flower, shrugged her shoulders and said, “I guess it can live on with Simon. I’m… done with everything in this place.” Tears welled in her eyes and he reached out to offer her a hug. She accepted. Graham? Grant? Was the first person, Simon included, to be nice to her about this thing that she was going through. It was short lived. Simon appeared out of nowhere and before she could think or speak, had the kid by the collar and slammed into the lockers.

“Who do you think you are?” Simon asked him, baring his teeth.

“Simon! That’s Graham! He’s Apex. He was just checking on me!” She said and pulled on Simon’s shoulder. 

Simon pressed his forehead to Graham’s and he said, “If I ever see you touch her again, you’ll give your right hand as tribute to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Simon. Understood Simon!”

“She’s. Mine.”

“I know, Simon. I’m sorry, Simon.” Simon shoved him and he rushed away. Simon raised an eyebrow and looked at Grace, expecting her to scold him for it. That’s what she was good for these days. 

She looked relieved, though. She rushed into his arms and collapsed onto his chest. “I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.” She looked up into his eyes. They still weren’t soft like they used to be, but he had a bit of a smile on his face as he collected her.

“You never have to worry about that.” She squeezed him tightly and cried on his chest. He wanted to tell her to stop it. That people could see her and that she looked weak to them. But… that was the whole point of doing this to her in the first place. 

Grace took a few days off of school. Simon brought her homework assignments. She was in bed most of the time. She wasn’t creating. She wasn’t living. She was sort of wasting away. Fortunately, so far the video scandal was being kept among the students, but she lay in waiting for when it went beyond them and she would have to try to explain herself to her parents. This was something that might never go away. 

Thursday evening, Simon asked, “Are you ever coming back?” She shrugged her shoulders and climbed into his lap for cuddles. This was her comfort. A bubble with her favorite person, away from social media, away from relentless peers, away from her parents. Simon kissed her on the nose. “Has this… made you never want to try again?”

“No. I almost want to make a purposeful video and send it out myself, just to show these bitches that I’m Grace Monroe, and I can do anything.” Simon’s eyes lit up. That was his Grace! She laughed and rested her head on him again. “How’s it been for you?”

“I don’t like that you’ve let it keep you out of school. You HAD perfect attendance. Now, you don’t.”

“I don’t care about perfect attendance, Simon. I care about… being the perfect girlfriend. That’s my new goal.”

“What brought this on?”

"Just… I think I get why you haven't really been bothered about things. I've been shutting you out, shoving you away. I haven't been as open or supportive as I used to, so why should you be?" He looked different suddenly. He looked like old Simon. She knew those eyes. She knew that smile. 

But, within moments, it went from warm, to guilty, to confused, to cold. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "There's a tough transition from childhood best friends to this. As long as you've got it now?"

"I think I've got it now." She said and kissed him again. She melted against his body and he strummed his fingers up and down the back of her neck. This is fucked up, Simon. You did something horrible to her, and now she's apologizing… But, she's still leaving you. It doesn't matter if she feels bad for being a bad girlfriend. It doesn't matter if she wants to undo that. She. Still. Wants. To. Leave. You. Proceed with her destruction… Its destruction. He cradled her, resigned that what he had already done and what he intended to do was completely fair and right.

Grace spent HOURS getting her hair unloc'd. She had to lose a lot of it, but it was still pretty long and made a large puffy halo that she could hardly wait to show off when she got back to school the next week. She felt brand new, though she wasn't excited to see the faces of her tormentors again. She and Simon got out of the car and she wrapped an arm around him and held her hand forward. Simon smiled and they moved forward. The kids made way, she smiled and greeted. Simon was quiet, but confident. 

Shana said something and Grace exchanged knowing facial expressions with Simon. He smirked and gave her a little nod. Grace handed her backpack to Simon. She flapped her fingers, said, "Wah wah wah," then uppercut Shana. Uppercut. Shana bit her tongue and stumbled back, her mouth bleeding and her hand on her chin. Simon smirked. Grace accepted her backpack back. 

The last time something like this happened (and it had been a while since Grace threw a punch on her own behalf, or on Simon's for that matter, nobody saw anything. They didn't know anything. They didn't say anything. But when the dean came rushing over, asking what happened, someone said, "Grace just assaulted Shana!" 

Grace was startled by that. She saw other kids nodding and agreeing that was what they saw. She looked at Simon, who, instead of swaying them back to obedience said, "Shana asked for it." Grace's eyes went wide. The dean grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her to his office. She turned to look at Simon. He was just staring at them. He wasn't riled up or upset or even following. The kids gathered behind him, also just staring… What. The. Fuck…

.

Her parents were not happy. "Expelled? Expelled?? At the end of the school year?" Her father complained. "Over violence? We didn't raise you like this!"

"You've barely raised me at all!" She snapped. She winced and said, "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to. Shana was bullying me.." 

"That's not what all of the other kids are saying."

"It's not even what Simon says," her mother added. 

Now, Grace's nostrils flared. "What does Simon say?"

"It's no secret to anyone that Grace and Shana don't get along, but none of us expected it to become physical. Shana was definitely giving her a hard time, but Grace let her temper get the best of her and I hate to say it, but it was pretty uncalled for, to lay her out like that." Her mother read from Simon's text.

"I handed him my backpack. He knew that I was about to lay hands on that bitch. Please! He's just saying that to impress you. Simon's seen…" she shut up. She was about to get herself into more trouble. "He definitely knew what was gonna happen when I handed him my bag."

"Why would he lie, Grace?" Her father asked.

"He's… obviously still mad at me for wanting to go to school. Simon can get really sensitive and a little bit clingy. He's punishing me."

"That sounds like a terrible relationship," her mother said. 

"It sounds like Grace making excuses for her disgusting behavior," her father said. The doorbell rang and the butler let Simon in. 

He shook Mr. Monroe's hand, bowed to Mrs. Monroe and began speaking to Grace like she was some type of volatile animal. "Heyyy, Grace. Are you okay?" She clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes. "I talked to the Dean to try to get this handled. The best that I could do was to get him to let you finish the school year from home and still have your grades as a student of the Academy. But he does not want you to come into the building again."

"Why didn't you have my back?" She asked.

"Sounds like he did have your back!" Her father fussed. 

"I am not talking to you right now, Dad!" She shrieked. Everyone froze and stared for a moment. Her father looked ready to angrily lash back, but her mother wrapped an arm around him and told Simon, "You'd better get her together, or else we'll have to."

"I'll take care of it," Simon said.

"I'll take care of it? You'll take CARE of it???" Grace repeated, then laughed and shook her head.

Simon watched her parents leave the terrace and he sat next to her. "You seem like you have some things on your mind."

Grace was wondering if she was the crazy one? He completely threw her under the bus at school and in front of her parents and they just… ate it up. "Do they know that I'M THE ONE that always has to keep you chill?"

"You're not that one right now."

"That's because you're being different. You're up to something and I can't figure out what?"

"I'm playing the game that we play with parents. You WANTED them to like me, did you not?"

"Not like this! They're not supposed to think you're better than me!"

"I see. I get it now. All those times when you insisted that we should be treated equally, you were just lying to me like you lie to everybody. And now that people are treating me good, you can't stand it."

"This isn't about PEOPLE, Simon, it's about MY PARENTS and how you're... you're... STEALING them!"

Simon tells her, "It's not my fault they like me more than you." Grace started crying. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "God, AGAIN with the crying. You're really a child."

"What is your problem? How can you say something like that to me when you know how I feel about my parents?"

He scoffed, "Yeah. And now we get to the truth about how you feel about me too. This is bigger than your stupid fucking parents." She looked at his face. He looked… like he was having a completely different conversation. His face would never let on that he had just said the mean things to her that he had just said. 

"Is… this about me leaving for school? You turned on me because I was gonna leave for school, Simon?"

"You lied to me. You betrayed the Apex."

"The Ape… Simon WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? The Apex doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"The Apex has everything to do with this!" He finally actually looked as mad at his words. "We were the Apex. Just you and me! We had everything we needed in each other. We belonged together. We built it together. It was our mark on the world. Our show of power and greatness… and you just threw it away! You threw ME away." He out his face into his hands and tried to catch his breath. She still didn't know what this even meant. 

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that it felt that way. I just wanted to do something for myself… if it makes you feel like this, I won't leave, Simon. We'll work it out…" 

He uncovered his face and it was surprisingly clear. She couldn't figure out what to think of him, but her heart was all over the place. Simon told Grace to calm down, but she was already sitting quietly, thinking, and she was getting mad that he was behaving like not only a stranger but a… horrible person! "I am calm," she said, though her teeth. "Just still very confused. Why are you being this way, Simon? I just gave you my virginity like a week ago.." her voice cracked.

He smirked, looked her right in the face and said, "That meant nothing to me."

She gasped and clutched her heart. This was… too much. Was she having a nightmare? Simon would never say these things to her. He would never hurt her. "Simon… are you saying that you don't even love me anymore?"

"I'm saying I don't even know who you are. The girl that I loved was strong, powerful and she cared about me. She wasn't a liar, pretending to love me until she could get away from me. Pretending to see me as an equal, but squirms anytime someone sides with me. She was worthy of respect. Whatever you are, you're not even worthy of her name. You're not worthy of respect. And you aren't worthy of love. You're nothing to me." 

She shook her head and looked out at the estate. Tears were pouring down her face. He put his hand on her back and rubbed it and for a moment, despite everything he had just said to her, she was relieved that he seemed gentle with her. But the he said, "Before I go, I want you to know that I actually did record us on purpose…" her head turned sharply to him and she stared at his thin lips as he said, "And I'm the one who leaked it." …Then...he smiled. 

Grace punched him in the teeth. He threw his hands up to cover his head. He knew her fighting style. She hit you in the face and head and neck. That's where she was swinging, but he was blocking well enough. So well, she was enraged and pulled his hair, twisting it in her fist to try to lift his head. Before she could strike him in the face again,she felt her mother's hands rip her away from him.

"Grace! You've caused us enough trouble with your violent outbursts! And now you’ve set your fists upon Simon?" All Grace could do was roar in anger, startling her mother.

Simon almost couldn’t hide his smirk. Luckily Mrs. Monroe was staring at her daughter (in horror), "I'm sorry, Mrs. M  This was my fault. I didn't mean to make her so mad. I know how she gets when she gets mad…" Grace charged at him, but Mrs. Monroe stood between them and grabbed her wrists.

"WE will talk about this later!" She placed a hand on Simon's back and led him back into the house to assess the damage and be sure that he wasn't ready to sue like Shana's parents were.

Grace asked herself, "Am I fucking crazy?" Simon smirked at her as he walked away with her mom. "No. He's. Crazy. HE'S fucking crazy!" She grabbed a handful of her fro and leaned on the rail with the other hand, sobbing.

Simon turned to Mrs. Monroe and said, "You realize that I love her right?"

Mrs. Monroe became visibly tense as she replied, "I realize that there's some feelings between you that you believe are very strong, but I also know that my daughter is hard to love."

"That's not true! I loved Grace almost the moment I met her. She's very generous. She's helpful. She's protective, oh and she's genuine... being genuine is the most important trait of a friend."

While Mrs. Monroe wasn't paying attention to him, he and Grace looked at each other through the window, and he glared at her hatefully. She stormed through the living room and up the stairs, slamming the door behind her. 

Then, she just… cried again, and sat down on the floor. She's unsure to this day how long she sat there, but she knows that both of her parents came together, each separately, the housekeeper, the butler and some doctor tried to talk to her before she finally got up, went into her bathroom and resumed sitting in the bathtub. She was there for 13 hours. She remembers that much. Not much else. The entire time period was just… day after day of hurt. And he still wasn't done with her.

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