#THE BAND CHANGES IT'S GODDAMN MIND EVERY YEAR AND EVERY ALBUM | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taetaesbaebaepsae · 4 years

Text

Lunar Violence (jjk)

Summary: You’re not a big fan of your best friend’s favorite band, Lunar Violence. Their werewolf gimmick makes you roll your eyes, even if the music isn’t too bad. When she drags you to a concert just as the blood moon rises, though, everything changes.

Warnings: werewolf sex, possessive behavior, choking, knotting, marking, heats and ruts so whatever consent issues you feel are within that realm, unrpotected sex, werewolf dick, abo dynamics

Word Count:7445

Rating: Explicit

You're not normally a fan of gimmicks, particularly with your music. So when your best friend begs you for a solid week to go with her to this concert, you're wary when you do a simple Google search.

Lunar Violence might be the dumbest fucking name for a band you've ever heard, but they certainly seem like they're going for a certain vibe. You'd definitely have been into it when you were a teen, the fake fangs, the facial piercings and torn leather pants, the howling they do at the ends of some of their songs.

The music itself isn't bad, the lead singer is stupid hot and has a smooth low tenor and bedroom eyes.

You flip through only a few of the member pictures before making a decision based on the fact that they're good eye candy, at least.

Your friend Jia jumps up and down excitedly when you tell her and shows you the signs she's made. She's got a thing for the one they call Happy, a lean bassist who has a bright smile and a sexy glare.

"What are with these names? The seven dwarfs? I think they're mixing metaphors."

Jia snorts. "They call the drummer Baby because he's the youngest. It’s not that dumb and the music is really good, you’ll love it, I promise!"

"This is so dumb. You owe me."

"If I get close enough to Happy to make eye contact I'm gonna make him mine and then I'll give you anything you want." Jia says determinedly.

It’s a few weeks before the concert, so you find yourself listening to a few albums and actually getting pretty excited about it. It should be a fun time, get you away from the stress of your every day life, at the least.

You had no way of knowing that the night of the concert would complicate your life tenfold.

“Do we always have to schedule concerts around rutting season?” Namjoon whines after hitting yet another wrong chord on his guitar.

“It’s the best part about this job!” Hoseok grins.

“I can’t fucking concentrate being horny all the time, I agree with Joon,” Yoongi agrees, banging his forehead down on the keyboard.

“Should have called you Horny rather than Lucky,” Seokjin snorts, and Hoseok laughs so hard he nearly knocks over his bass guitar.

Jungkook watches them with a fond smile on his face, his brothers. Not by blood, of course but being the only werewolves in the city made them have an instant connection and camaraderie, and they’d created a pack pretty quickly. The music had come later, they’d all been interested in it, all had some talent and all been blessed with good looks, and after that it was only a matter of who did what and stage names.

Kim Seokjin, with his regal looks and sharp jaw: Prince.

Min Yoongi, with the scar over his left eye he’d gotten scrapping with a grey wolf in the woods behind his house in Daegu as a pup: Lucky.

Jung Hoseok with his easy smile and eager nature: Happy.

Kim Namjoon, always so serious and intelligent: Beethoven.

Park Jimin, with his pretty face and sneaky smirk: Sly.

Kim Taehyung with his sweet nature and affectionate personality: Honey.

Finally, Jeon Jungkook, because he'd been barely old enough to breed when they'd met: Baby.

"Baby hasn't had his first rut yet, yeah?" It's Jimin, smirking, always giving Jungkook grief about something.

Jungkook narrows his eyes and chucks a drumstick at him but it's no use, Jimin catching it in one band and twirling it like a goddamn baton. Jungkook would say Jimin was graceful if he hadn't seen him fall off about a dozen barstools and half a dozen stages, sober even for the latter.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?” Seokjin speaks up, and Jungkook knows he’s teasing but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“He’s only just turned 23. You were two weeks from your 23rd before you ever popped a knot, hyung, or have you forgotten?” Namjoon snarks, and Jungkook snickers as Seokjin makes a face, that vein on his neck pulsing just a bit.

He shouldn’t laugh, they’re just as likely to come to blows during the beginning of a rut and in a full moon cycle, but he can’t help himself

Yoongi, as usual, manages to keep the peace by offering to order pizza and foot the bill, a truly saintlike act since they could go through a pizza each, as hot as their temperature would be running by now.

Jungkook doesn’t say that he’s had a knot for two years now, the very thought of his hyungs knowing that makes him blush so much he hides it by wiping his face with a towel, pretending to have been sweating.

Truly, he should have had a rut by now, triggered by all the pheromones' from the shows they’d been doing, this tour had been particularly rough due to the upcoming blood moon, at least for all the other boys, and it isn’t as if Jungkook hasn’t mated, of course, but a full rut? Not even the hint of it. It worries him, but Namjoon keeps assuring him that everyone gets there in time, people are just different.

Taehyung had been a late bloomer himself, not starting his first rut until he met and fell in love with his girlfriend, a short feisty redhead he’d met after a hand injury from stringing his bass guitar and slicing his palm open. She’d been a nurse who scolded him for not coming in sooner and it’d been almost instant, her green eyes triggering every wolf thing about him, or at least that’s how he tells it, all wide eyed and dreamy.

She’s a near constant in Taehyung’s hotel rooms now, sometimes riding along on the tour bus, but he doesn’t let her into anymore of the concerts even when she pouts, because human mates around a group of wolves around rutting season can be a dangerous time.

Taehyung is one of the gentlest wolves Jungkook knows, but he’d seen him snarl when Yoongi so much as winked at the redhead near a rut, so it’s probably for the best.

Anyway, Jungkook wasn’t worried (much). He’d find his true mate eventually, but probably not at a concert. Maybe he’d start his rut there, at least, around the full moon. He’d never have imagined that he’d find both.

The crowd is nice enough, although they seem a little feral. Some of these girls have signs that should be x rated, but you're not one to judge, especially since you've never actually….done anything too x-rated.

You feel a little strange when you enter the concert venue and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You shrug and blame it on the strong drink your friend had made you chug before you entered since she couldn’t finish it all herself.

It’s like there’s something living under your skin, some rush like heat, and it makes you feel antsy, ready to dance along to the music or at least laugh at your friend losing her mind next to you.

There’s a lot of gimmick to the concert and it’s bright and dark at the same time near the stage. You’d swear you’d seen the guitarist strum with no pick, with a sharp claw instead, but you’re sure it’s makeup, part of the show. They’re wearing contacts, too, you’re pretty sure, and the music is good, your friend isn’t wrong.

The song you’d heard that you’d like is actually their encore song, heavy on the bass and drums, and the lead singer even makes your skin feel hot a little when he makes eye contact and winks at you. The last solo the lights come down on the drummer, he’s on the back stage so all you can see is his long hair bouncing, the flex of his admittedly impressive biceps as he finishes the song.

You’ve been jumping up and down and singing along so much that you’re sweating and feeling a bit dizzy, so you drag your friend out the back alley while she’s still swooning, having gotten a direct smile from her favorite bassist.

“Did you see him? He looked right at me! We’re in love, Y/n. Do you want to be my maid of honor?” She’s babbling when you hear the click of a lighter next to you.

There’s people milling about, it wasn’t exactly a sold out show but there was a decent crowd, and people are now piling into the bar next door.

“Did you like the show?”

When you turn your head you’re shocked to see that it’s the lead singer, a couple strands of his silver hair falling over his eye as he smiles at you.

“Oh. Oh, yes, I liked it very...very much,” you stammer. He’s even more handsome up close. Those are some really good contacts, you can’t tell they aren’t real at all, even though surely no one’s eyes are a violet color like that.

“Sly!” Your friend screams, and you jolt forward, surprised.

The singer’s hand lights on your shoulder and you look down. You have time to think that they must make great money for these expensive special effects because they sure do look like claws before your friend rushes past you, yelling because Happy had come out the back with the rest of the band.

There’s no mob or anything, maybe a dozen people other than you and Jia, but it makes you a bit anxious nonetheless, especially since you’re still feeling just as antsy, hot and dizzy as you were before.

It might be worse, actually, as you stand outside in the moonlight.

“Sly’s just my stage name.” His voice sounds softer, closer to your ear as he leans in. “You can call me Jimin.”

“O-okay,” you stutter, unused to feeling this way. You’re usually more outgoing, talkative, but it feels so strange. You find yourself looking up at the sky as if looking for the moon.

It’s better, once you’re inside the bar, there’s not as much of a crowd and you’re sitting at a big table with Sly...Jimin, you remind yourself, and Jia and Happy, who seems to fit his name well, laughing open and loud with your best friend as if they’ve known each other forever.

After a few hours and a couple of drinks you’ve lost most of that antsy feeling since being indoors, and you and Jimin vibe well, becoming fast friends. You’re both flirty and talkative after getting to know each other, and your mood is lifted from the concert, the alcohol, and the socialization.

You even laugh about calling their gimmick dumb as they dodge questions about where they get their makeup and accessories. You assume it’s some kind of sponsorship situation or contract, not thinking much of it.

You manage to excuse yourself long enough to look for the bathroom, although Jia abandons you since she’s made her way into Happy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and with a blissful smile you’re not sure you’ve ever seen on her.

There’s someone standing in the hall and it’s a narrow hallway and he’s pretty wide from the back so you stumble a little when you turn, placing a hand on the wall.

“Oh, excuse me!” You say, brightly, but when he turns you gasp, a little surprised by the bright red of his eyes before you realize it’s another member of Lunar Violence.

“Hello,” he says, quietly with a little smile and he has these prominent front teeth that are pretty cute, make him look a lot less intimidating, despite those contacts and an eyebrow piercing and his size.

“Oh, hello! You’re…”

“Baby,” he blurts, and it makes you giggle.

You feel a little tipsier than you’d realized, and you guess it must be since you’ve been sitting down for an hour or so and just gotten up.

He puts a hand over his face, embarrassed. “My name is Jungkook,” he explains. “I’m the drummer?”

It’s cute how his voice pitches up into a question, as if you wouldn’t recognize him. He’s definitely a bit more modest than the other two members you’d met, with Jimin and Happy (who you’d just learned also goes by Hoseoki), bragging about tours and performances.

“Pretty big for a baby,” you tease, and he makes an embarrassed sound in the back of his throat.

“I keep trying to get them to let me change it,” he mutters.

You introduce yourself and he smiles again, and his eyes aren’t as red as you’d thought at first, anyway, maybe it’s just the light. You brush past him as you continue to the bathroom after excusing yourself, and it’s a little zing through you, like static electricity.

It takes you longer in the bathroom than it usually would, that last drink really must have packed a punch, and when you return to the table Jungkook is sitting there, too, next to your empty chair. Jimin looks a little sullen and pouty, but he smiles at you, those violet eyes crinkling up at the corners, and you give him a bright smile back.

Jungkook, on the other hand, is all energy, jiggling his leg and tapping his fingers on the table and Hoseok seems to be watching him intently.

The atmosphere in general seems to have changed, and after exchanging numbers with everyone with the urging of Jia, you two excuse yourself.

The three men walk you outside and Jimin is close while Jungkook hangs back. You imagine Jimin is so close since you mentioned feeling a bit dizzy and he asks you twice if he can call you a car but you tell him that the fresh air will do you good.

It’s funny, the moonlight seems to energize you a bit. When Jimin leans in to kiss you on the cheek, you jump a little at a sound behind you, something like a bark.

Jimin jolts back a little, eyes widening, and you both laugh at your nerves.

“Stray dog,” you remark, and Jimin snorts.

“Something like that.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “So what exactly the fuck happened after I left?”

Jimin is sullen on the couch, arms crossed over his chest with a busted lip and Jungkook is sitting next to Hoseok on the floor on the other side of the hotel room with tissue up his nose, Hoseok tilting his head back.

“Baby is about to go into rut,” Taehyung sings, laughing, his girlfriend draped over him on the bed drowsily, his teeth marks littering her neck and throat.

“Don’t,” Yoongi warns. “Everyone’s just wound up. Full moon is in two days, after all, cut him some slack.”

“Sees one girl he likes and suddenly no one else can talk to her,” Jimin complains, gingerly working his tongue across his lip ring to see if it’s torn.

“You tried to kiss her,” Jungkook growls, and Hoseok pushes on his chest to keep him from getting up.

Jungkook can’t explain why his wolf wanted to rip Jimin’s throat out when he leaned in to kiss you, he’d just met you, didn’t even know your last name, but it was visceral, sudden, something crawling up his throat. He’d almost moved forward to do it before Hoseok said his name, sharply.

“We all get a little possessive about potential mates around the full moon,” Namjoon reasons. “But that’s not the way to handle it, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hangs his head and removes the tissue from his nose with a shake of his head. “I’m sorry, hyung.” He looks over at Jimin but he means it for Namjoon. He’s still bitter, somehow, about Jimin’s hand on your lower back, his lips brushing your cheek. It makes his head feel fuzzy, his guts roll.

Namjoon, on the other hand, had been the one to “discover” Jungkook, back when he had no idea why his eyes were starting to change color with the moon cycles or why his nails grew out like claws. He’d started learning percussion just to get rid of some of the energy he had around those times, and he’d been 17 when Namjoon approached him in a music store when Jungkook was looking into buying cymbals.

Jungkook had been abandoned when he was a baby, adopted at four years old and he had no idea about his wolf lineage, or even that they existed, until Namjoon explained it to him.

“Jungkook doesn’t know his lineage,” Namjoon reminds them all. “He might just be presenting as an alpha, that’s a lot around the full moon, Jimin, you remember.”

Jimin grumbles something under his breath and Jungkook has to take a deep breath through his nostrils, smelling iron from their scuffle earlier, in order not to lunge across the room and hit him again.

Eventually, Jungkook has to move to his own room despite usually bunking with Jimin, and he finds himself unable to sleep, staring at the ceiling. He keeps seeing your bright smile, your curls bouncing around as you talked and laughed, mostly at Jimin, and it makes him stiffen to think of how Jimin had met you first.

Why did it matter, anyway? You’re just a person, just like he is, just a girl, and he doesn’t have the best track record with talking to girls, anyway. You’d been in the front row, with your friend who Hoseok had gotten so smiley about, he’d seen you just before he started his set, his vision clearer around the full moon.

The others laughed at him for how he talked about “the wolf,” as if it wasn’t a part of him, as if it wasn’t who he was, but that’s how it had always felt. He just hadn’t had a name for it until he’d met Namjoon. It was like this thing, inside him, this beast, something that clawed and scratched to get out.

Seokjin keeps telling him that he’s fighting the wolf, that’s why he hasn’t gone into rut or popped his knot, that’s why he feels so achy and fidgety around the moon cycles, that’s why he hasn’t shifted. Namjoon would always respond there was no way to know that but Seokjin just rolled his eyes.

“Aish, I’m your hyung, listen to me. I fought mine, too, when I was young, and when I shifted I broke a few bones. You should give in, let it ride in the front seat once in a while.”

Jungkook had nodded at the time but now, he doesn’t know how to do that. Drumming helped, it was a lot of work and energy expelled and it felt like he could let him out, the wolf, just a little. It’s why he’d gotten so big, staying active and lifting weights was something the wolf liked.

The wolf came sometimes when he masturbated, too, when he’d feel particularly worked up around the full moon, after a concert, sweaty and rolling his hips into his hand.

When he tries it after meeting you, he can’t even finish, ending up panting and sore, the wolf still snarling over the memory of Jimin’s lips barely brushing across your cheek.

Surprisingly enough, it’s Jungkook who texts you first. Wanna go for a drink?

You’re not sure whether to say yes at first, you’ve been feeling so strange. You can barely sleep, your skin feeling hot, as if you’d burned yourself with a too hot shower. You think about that night at the concert a lot, Jimin’s violet eyes, Jungkook’s almost red ones, how odd you’d felt.

You would have talked to Jia about it but she’s been abducted by the werewolf band, apparently, you’ve barely seen her in a week and when you had she’d been littered with hickeys and with a big goofy smile.

Part of you wonders if this is all some sex ring cult but she seems happy, jubilant even, so you agree, meeting Jungkook at a downtown bar.

He’s there before you arrive, you can see him through the window sitting at a table, looking wide and a bit intimidating until he lifts his head and smiles at you with a little wave.

His eyes are a warm brown now, pretty and wide, you’re able to notice the shape more without the contacts.

Jungkook is still all energy, maybe that’s just how he is, talking to you more and more as the nights go on and you two share a pitcher of beer, scooting his chair closer. You find he flushes a pretty rose when you flirt with him and can’t stop laughing when he nearly falls out of his chair when you prop your legs up in his lap.

By the end of the night he can’t stop smiling at you and you’re intrigued, moreso than you’d imagined you would be when you’d first met him, smiling shyly at you at the bar near the concert. You start to feel funny again, your head fuzzy, probably from the alcohol.

When you tell him, he’s all wide eyed concern.

You giggle. “Now I know why they call you Baby.”

He huffs a little.

He walks you outside just as he did before but this time he doesn’t hang back, and when you reach the alleyway, he places a hand on the swell of your hip as you take a few deep breaths of the night air.

You’re surprised, laugh a little until you look up into his eyes. You’d swear they looked red tinged again, but surely it’s just the beer.

“Not a baby,” he murmurs, moving closer, pressing you up against the brick with his body, and you hitch in a breath.

“No?” You ask, boldly trailing your finger along his collarbone through the black tshirt he’s wearing.

He shakes his head, leaned down close enough to your face that his nose brushes yours.

“Prove it,” you tease, and he makes this rumbling sound in the back of his throat that makes goosebumps break out across your flesh.

He leans down further, nips at your lower lip, and you moan, body surging forward toward his as if it was made to fit it. You’re not sure if you kiss him or he kisses you, but his tongue is in your mouth, his hands on either side of your head, caging you in.

You feel hot all over, dizzy in the most pleasant way, at least until he pulls away, gasping.

You whine, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever made before, when he’s not touching you anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I’m sorry. I should go.”

He’s gone before you can even gasp out another whine of his name, and the moonlight on your skin burns instead of cools.

Jungkook tells this story in a burst to his bandmates the next day, hungover with his head pounding.

“You just left her there?” Jimin says, his face shocked, and Jungkook feels the wolf make a growl start at the back of his throat.

Namjoon puts a hand on his shoulder and it turns into a whine instead.

“I’ve never felt him that close, hyung. Right at the surface. I wanted to…”

Namjoon and Seokjin meet eyes above Jungkook’s lowered head.

Jimin catches it. Jimin catches everything, it’s one of the best and worst things about him.

“What? You think…” Jimin laughs. “No. She can’t be his.... She’s not a wolf, I would’ve smelled it when-”

Jungkook surges out of his seat, a deep growl rumbling from his chest. “When what, Jimin?”

Jimin’s eyes glow a pale violet as he snarls back, uncaring that Jungkook towers over him.

In the end, Namjoon and Seokjin have to separate them physically as they bark and snarl at each other.

Hoseok and Taehyung are missing, having holed up to ride out their ruts with their human mates instead of the house the seven share.

Yoongi huffs out a breath. “He’s definitely presenting as an alpha.”

“No shit,” Namjoon barks, unusually on edge.

Yoongi, Seokjin, and Taehyung are the betas of the group, and until now there had only been a slight difference among the bandmates despite their different rankings.

Alpha pheromones were stronger and their senses were more heightened around rutting season, particularly for other mates.

In the end, they have to completely change how they house themselves, with Jimin sharing a room with Yoongi, and Jungkook sharing with Seokjin.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” Jungkook says miserably, his wolf finally calmed as he sits down on the bed.

“It’s not your fault,” Seokjin says, voice much less harsh than Namjoon’s had been earlier when he’d scolded him. “I saw Namjoon during this time, and it wasn’t easy.”

Jungkook looks up at the elder with wide eyes. “Really?”

Seokjin snorts and nods. “Yeah, around the full moon he was unbearable, snarling at everything.”

“I just didn’t want to scare her or...or hurt her...I wanted to put her against the wall and…” Jungkook trails off, embarrassed.

Seokjin only smiles and ruffles Jungkook’s hair. “That’s normal too, Baby. You wouldn’t have hurt her, especially if it’s what we think it is.”

“What...what does that mean?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Something you gotta work out on your own.”

Jungkook groans and flops down on the bed as Seokjin laughs, heading downstairs to make dinner while things are calm.

He has trouble sleeping again, but this time instead of wondering why, he knew, could almost feel the soft skin of your hip on his palm like it was still there, how you’d moaned into his mouth, whined for him.

Jungkook isn’t sure there’s a cold enough shower to help.

You can’t seem to sit still as the full moon nears, feeling like you might jump out of your skin. You can’t count the number of friends you’d called but no one seems up to going out. You bite your lip while looking at Jungkook’s contact on your phone screen.

If you think about it long enough, you can still feel the way he pressed against you, how the hair on the nape of your neck stood up when he nipped at your lip, how hot you’d felt, how wet…

You sigh and scroll up, seeing Jimin’s name instead. Jimin had been fun to be with the night you’d met, easy to talk to, less….intense. And he didn’t make you feel like you were about to crawl out of your skin, so you ask if he wants to meet up for a drink.

It’s late, by the time you decide, and the moon is out, waxing toward fullness. There’s only a tiny sliver remaining, big in the sky, and you can’t stop looking up at it as you walk to the bar near your house.

You’d chosen it because it’s close and not because it’s where hot drummer Jeon Jungkook, also known as Baby, had pressed you against an alley wall and made you almost…

Jimin jolts you out of your thoughts, calling your name and waving as you approach the door. He’s leaned against the doorjamb, giving you a smirk and you think now you understand why they call him Sly.

It makes you smile and again, you vibe well with him, you get along in the best way, conversation is easy and you don’t feel gooseflesh or your hair stand up when he brushes his fingers against yours.

Jimin knows he’s playing with fire when he replies to your text, but they don’t call him Sly for nothing, and you’re interesting, for a human. He’s only met one other female wolf, a tall and feisty woman with a sharp tongue and the most beautiful brown eyes, but she’d had a mate and well...things hadn’t ended well.

Jungkook thinks of his wolf as this separate entity but Jimin disagrees, let’s his wolf do what it wants, so that all the bad things he feels have some kind of outlet. This was especially so after he’d lost his brown eyed wolf girl, so he invites you back to the house, knowing that Jungkook will be at the gym all night before the full moon tomorrow.

In fact, all of the others will be out, finding fun of their own, and why shouldn’t Jimin do the same? It isn’t as if Jungkook has marked you, or even can, since you’re human.

Your eyes aren’t quite the same shade of hers, but he can pretend.

Jungkook works out until his muscles ache but nothing can shake this feeling he has, like something’s wrong. When he leaves the gym even the moon looks off, as if it’s dimmer than it should be, and something’s pulling him home, like this tug in his gut. It feels like it used to as a kid in his first foster home, when he’d get so anxious he’d climb onto the roof and stare up at it.

He’s almost running as he gets closer, feeling his skin prickle as he gets to the house, his wolf so close to the surface he can feel the fur that isn’t there yet standing up on the back of his neck.

He smells Jimin first, wrinkling his nose at the alpha pheromones, and when he walks upstairs it isn’t as if he decides to let the wolf take over, or struggles with it - it’s instant.

You’re standing in the hall, head tilted up, and Jimin is leaning against the wall, smiling down at you, and when you lean up to just softly brush your lips against Jimin’s, Jungkook’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest, and the wolf barks, loud and warning.

You turn, surprised, and Jungkook doesn’t think, doesn’t act, it’s all wolf. He grabs you by your waist, hefts you up over your shoulder, and begins to walk you to his room.

Jimin protests and Jungkook growls over his shoulder, daring him to try something. Later, Jungkook is glad his friend didn’t follow, because he isn’t sure that he could have held the wolf back.

You kick and yell and beat on his back and Jungkook doesn’t realize what he’s done until he’s plopped you down on his bed, crawling toward you.

You kick him in the chest and it barely registers. You stand up and that’s when he snaps back to himself, at least to a degree.

"Don't leave. You can't leave." It's panicked, his voice, higher pitched almost like a whine.

"I can do whatever I want," you snap.

He makes this sound between a whine and a snarl and it's startling, strange, and you stop at the door.

"I know that! I know, but he doesn't!"

"He..." you turn to look at him and he's trembling, head down, and you step closer, worried. "Baby, what do you mean?"

Jungkook just stands there, still trembling, until you reach out to touch his hair, gently. "He thinks he owns you, that you're his, that no one else can touch you." He explains, almost in a whisper.

"Who is he?" You ask slowly.

He raises his head slow and you gasp when you look into his eyes, instead of a warm brown this burnt amber, red hued.

"The wolf."

You stand there, blinking in surprise, for a long moment before actively telling your feet to move to the door. Unfortunately, your brain seems to have some kind of disconnect to your limbs, because you just step even closer, lean in and inhale along his neck, this scent of sweat and the iron of the weights he’d been lifting washing over you.

Rationally, you know that you should be shocked, horrified, even, that werewolves are real and you’re apparently standing in a house full of them but all you can do is run your tongue along the vein in his throat and Jungkook is trembling all over, whimpering like a puppy.

“Y/n, please, don’t-” he chokes out.

“Why not?” You murmur against his skin, the scent of him making your body react like you’ve never felt before. There’s this ache between your thighs that you’ve only felt a hint of before and you want more, nipping at his skin, unable to think clearly.

“He wants to...wants you,” Jungkook stutters, balling his hands into fists to keep from touching you.

“He does? Or you do?” You ask, lifting your head to pout at him, and Jungkook groans.

“Both,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Then take me,” you say, and you don’t even know where the words came from. Your head feels light on your shoulders, dizzy with the scent of him, how his skin tastes under your tongue, and you do what he did to you the last night you’d seen him, nipping at his lower lip. Your canine pierces the skin and you taste iron on your tongue

Jungkook growls and lifts you again, this time with his hands under your ass and thighs and your legs wrap around him instantly. He all but throws you down on the bed, this time, and you whimper when he grips one of your thighs with his big hand, squeezing the flesh there.

“Mine,” he snarls, that high pitched whine at the end, and it makes you arch your back, claw your nails across his shoulders.

Jungkook leans down to sniff at your neck and growls again, wrinkling his nose and when you open your eyes he’s staring down at you with those red/amber eyes.

You look back defiantly but you’re rolling your hips against his, you can feel him hard against your core and even though you’d never gone all the way with anyone before you want him inside you, can’t think of anything else.

“You smell like him,” he accuses, voice hoarse, and his wide eyes fade back to brown, just slightly, the color dilating around his pupils.

“Jungkook,” you whisper, feeling something like guilt, even though nothing had happened, really, and even it if it had…

He rubs his nose against your throat, covers you with his body like he’s replacing any of Jimin’s scent with his own. He licks against your neck, bites down on your skin, making you yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook whines. “I’m sorry, I have to. You’re mine, I have to mark you, have to scent you anywhere he touched you,” he tries to explain, his hands skating down your ample curves.

“It’s okay,” you say, and somehow you mean it, you understand, the very thought of Jungkook smelling like anyone else makes your heart jump into your throat, something primal rise in your gut. “I know, baby.”

“You’re mine?” He says again, voice pitching up into a question just like when he’d introduced himself and it scares you, the way it makes your heart ache.

Instead of speaking you kiss him again, hard, moving your hands to his hair to get him closer. You had worn a skirt and halter out, it’s so warm even though it’s close to winter, your skin feeling so hot under the moonlight that you couldn’t wear much else.

Even as you kiss him he’s tearing at your clothes and you lean up to help him until you’re bare beneath him and panting, this whining noise coming from your throat that you can’t explain.

“God,” Jungkook groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I-”

“You haven’t...haven’t done this before?” Your eyes widen.

Jungkook realizes what you mean and he blushes a bit. “I’ve...yeah, I’ve done this before but not...not like this. I feel like...the wolf feels like...he’s been crazy. Since the first moment I saw you.”

“Like you’re gonna jump out of your skin? Always feeling...hot?” You ask.

Jungkook nods slowly, eyes widening.

“Me too,” you admit. “I don’t...I don’t know what it means. That’s why I came out with Jimin, I-”

Jungkook cuts you off with a choked whine. “It means you’re supposed to be mine.”

He snuffles against your neck again, hands at your hips, still holding back, trembling. “It means he never should have touched you.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know you have nothing to apologize for. “I want you. I’ve never...I’ve never done this before but I want you so bad,” you admit, clutching at his tshirt, pulling it up until he gets on his knees and pulls it off, tossing it to the side. You spread your hands across his chest and he lets out a wrecked moan.

“You’re holding back,” you accuse.

He nods. “The wolf, he doesn’t….I don’t want to hurt you. Especially...fuck, no one’s touched you like this before?” His hands slide up and down your thighs as he stares down at your body, your breasts, the cleft of your cunt.

Jungkook knows that shouldn’t make him so hard, shouldn’t make his dick pulse in his sweats, shouldn’t make the wolf keen with pride. Mine mine mine, the first, the only is all his brain is chanting, he feels dizzy like he’s drank too much even though he hasn’t had a drop.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, but he can’t, can’t let the wolf out, he’s afraid he’ll rip you apart. You’re human and a virgin and he can’t risk hurting you.

The wolf won’t even let him say it, so he just shakes his head.

You huff out a breath, your body aching all over, need making your arousal coat your thighs. You don’t know what you’re going to say until you say it.

“Should I ask Jimin to do it? I bet he can smell me,” you taunt, shocking yourself.

Jungkook freezes, his eyes bleeding to red again and one hand jolting out to wrap around your throat.

“Don’t,” he warns.

You know you should be cautious since you’re about to fuck an actual werewolf, but fuck, you’re so hot, you can’t think, you need something inside you and you drop your feet to the bed, spreading your legs wide.

“Jimin would mark me. He’d fuck me, fill me full like I want.”

Jungkook feels something in him snap, and his heart hurts and his cock aches and the wolf is keening, clawing inside him and he can’t control it anymore, just like before.

“Never,” he growls, squeezes his fingers around your throat and you gasp, your stomach aching with need.

Finally, finally he slides his fingers along your pussy and you choke out a sob as his thumb slips across your clit but it’s not enough.

“Jungkook,” you whimper. “Make me yours.”

“Already mine,” he murmurs, and finally slides two fingers inside you, making you cry out. “You’re already mine but I’m gonna give you what you want, mark you, fuck you, make sure Park fucking Jimin never so much as sniffs at you again.”

“Yes,” you sigh. “Yes, please, please.”

Jungkook still worries somewhere in the back of his mind that he’ll hurt you, that the wolf will, and by now he understands they’re one and the same but you’re rolling your hips up and his cock feels heavy and full like he’s about to burst, somehow wider at the base and he rips down his sweats, fucking you with three fingers now.

When his cock bounces against his stomach you gasp, and if you’d been in your right mind you might worry he’s too big but something inside you is crying out in pleasure just at the sight of it. You spread your legs wider and he releases your throat, leaning over to kiss you instead, biting your lip as he slowly works himself inside you.

It’s a tight fit even after three fingers and you’re whining into his mouth, wanting more.

Jungkook isn’t a virgin, far from it although a little less experienced than some of his band members (Hoseok had once bragged about fucking a house of sorority sisters during a rut), but the way you clench around him has his hips twitching, wanting to buck into you even if it would split you open.

Despite his worry, neither he or the wolf wants to hurt you, though, so he waits for you to adjust even as you beg, waits until you can take all of him.

He’s barely realized that he’s popped his knot until he looks down to see where you’ve joined and he groans. He knows how to do this, has been talked to (endlessly, by Taehyung, about his human girlfriend and how she desperately wants to take his knot and they’re working on it but it will take time and training), knows that you can’t take his knot but the wolf is howling for it, wants to fuck you hard and then pop it inside you, spill a littler into your womb.

You whine and pulse around him, reaching up to tug at his hair. “Kookie,” you pout. “Baby. Want you inside me, fuck me harder, please-”

“I can’t-” he chokes out, but then you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him deeper and the wolf growls, leans down, mine mine mine chanting in his head. My mate.

You felt a tiny pop when Jungkook first entered you, nothing painful and then just need, you want more and more and you don’t even know how to say it. You look up at him, near tears, needing something that you feel he won’t give you.

“I’m not yours yet,” you slur, and he looks pained, his eyes dilating from warm brown to amber red again and again.

He rocks his hips against you slow, and you’ve orgasmed twice already, once from his fingers and one from his cock but it’s not enough and you whine, it comes out almost inhuman, like his.

“Fill me up,” you urge, and Jungkook tries to hold the wolf back, he really does, but he’s too far gone, this close to the full moon and in the start of his first rut.

Jungkook groans, fucks you harder and faster and when you cry out his name his balls draw up and he thrusts forward harder than he’d meant to, popping his knot inside you.

You make a surprised sound and his eyes pop open, his hands cupping your face even as his hips twitch as he cums, spills inside you.

“Y/n. I’m so sorry,” he mourns. “I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” he babbles, kissing along your neck and throat, seeing that he’d already marked you twice, once on each side of your throat, and he barely remembers it.

You let out a happy sigh and wrap your arms around his neck, feeling finally sated, at least for the moment. “What are you sorry for, silly baby?”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” He asks, and you look up into his eyes and they’re heterochromatic, now, red hued amber and brown both.

“You’d never hurt me,” you mumble against his throat.

“Never,” he promises. “Never, I love you so much.”

You’re half asleep, sated with him still inside you, planting soft kisses on your lips and face. You don’t know where you’d learned the word, but it feels right when you say it, right before you drift to sleep.

“I love you too, Alpha.”

It takes a while to understand, especially between Jungkook being barely able to leave his room since he’s in rut and you’re in heat, but eventually, you figure it out.

Your great grandmother had been an omega werewolf, and it’s a recessive gene so you’d been the lucky one to receive it. Since you had never shifted because your gene wasn’t activated by male wolves, you had no smell.

At least, not until the full moon, when you shifted into what Jungkook says is the prettiest wolf he’d ever seen.

After, when you’d near your heat, Jungkook would snap and snarl at the boys so much just for talking to you that it made you roll your eyes, but eventually you got the dates right (for the most part, there’d been one instance in which Jimin had made a snarky comment and Jungkook had lunged at him and they’d gone rolling down the stairs), and you holed up in your apartment, instead.

Jungkook was working with Seokjin to understand that the wolf is him instead of some seperate entity. You tell him you’ve always known that. From what you know now, if the wolf wasn’t, he would have taken you the very first night. True mates are rare, and you’d both known it the whole time, even when you hadn’t.

You and Jia went to every concert, her always telling you her neverending sexcapades with Hoseok to be able to take his knot, front row, waiting for your Alpha’s set. It’s cute, you think, that they call him Baby on stage but he’s your Alpha, especially since he’s both, always, to you.

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts imagines #werewolf!jungkook #bts werewolf au #jungkook imagine #bangtanshadowfamily #bangtanheadquarters #btscreatorscorner #btswritersclub

1K notes · View notes

sunflowerryvol6 · 3 years

Text

Sweet Summer

No warnings, just pure fluff.

WC: 3.6k

Long time no see! I hope you like this! I'll try and link the songs on this page, but no promises. Leave any suggestions for stories you'd like to see! Also, do comment, and tell me what you like about these two! As always, feedback is always welcome.

Check out my masterlist

You could listen to the songs here. I listened to this while writing this.

'I know how the summer goes' softly played in the background; she was sticky with sweat. She was sprawled on the floor of their bedroom. He sat on the bed above her. She was working on an essay on summer love for her column, the deadline was fast approaching. She looked to her left, and their room overlooked the ocean. The window opened to the bedroom patio, where they would often sit and work during the summer. Today he was oiling her hair while she worked hard on her piece. He'd just wrapped up, so he offered to help ease out some stress. She laid her head on the side on his knee and looked out to the sun shining down on the beach.

Ellie could almost touch the memory of when she first realised she was in love with Harry.

4 years earlier...

They'd been dating for a few weeks now. Harry planned the first date, so she arranged the second one. She'd quickly realised that Harry loved his walks. Working as a software developer left him with little to no time to move around. So he takes any opportunity to exercise or move his body. Ellie was a freelance journalist who's spent the better part of the last two years working from home. The idea of walking around or being on her feet was too taxing because of her chronic pain. But she liked harry, didn't she. So that's what she kept telling herself. When her hips hurt a little too much, or when she pulled her back from walking around too long. It'd all be worth it in the end. It had to be.

On this particular evening, they'd decided to meet up for a gig. Harry had found this artist that was playing in a bar downtown, so they'd meet there. She walked up to him and kissed him on the lips. "Hello to you too" He smiled.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I just missed you." She smiled wide. "I missed you too." He linked their arms and walked into the bar. He asked her to go ahead, and he'd join her with drinks. She walked on and waited for the band to start playing. He found his way back to her soon enough, with their favourite beverages.

Once the gig was over, they walked out of the bar and discussed where they should go to get dinner. "So, there's this brilliant taco place just down the road. We can walk there. What'd you say?" He smiled at her.

"Oh sure, let's." Ellie knew this wasn't the best decision. She'd be in a whole lot of pain by the end of the evening. She had work tomorrow, a deadline she couldn't miss. But It had to be worth it, right?

"What'd do you want to listen to today?" She suggested. She dug into her bag to find the earphone connector and offered it to him. They'd do this a lot, listen to music together, a new genre every date, sometimes their favourite albums. The last time they were listening to Harry's 70's indie playlist. You can tell a lot about a person by the music they heard. This was quite the ice breaker during their first few dates, so they decided to make it a thing. Now they would sometimes pick certain words or phrases and listen to what came up.

"Guilty pleasures?" He asked. "I can tell you, but I'm afraid it won't make for a great romantic walk down a dark road" She smiled. "I can take it." He laughed.

So she did. They blasted an old rock playlist, with mostly Cream. "You really love Cream, huh?" He said after a bit. "More than Neutral Milk Hotel," She told straightfaced. He blinked at her for a sec and burst out laughing. "That was a terrible one. Worse than my puns, God!" He laughed.

"These tacos better be mind fucking blowing, Styles," She says. Her hips were starting to ache a little. "Yes, Ma'am. I wouldn't dare disappoint you." He smiled. Their conversation went on about things here and there. Soon they reached the taco truck, right by the side of the road. The place was packed with people. Patrons had resorted to sitting on the pavement because of the wait.

"Okay, their birria tacos are the best, but we can get something else if you'd like?" Harry asked her. "Oh, that actually sounds absolutely perfect. Do you mind if I go get us a spot while you go get the food?" Ellie asked. "Sure, you do that." He said and leaned to kiss her cheek and made his way to the truck.

Ellie walked towards the pavement and slowly sat down. The moment her bum hit the pavement softly, she knew she was in a world of pain. Only more was waiting for her the longer this night went. She quickly dug into her purse to get out her cigarettes and lit one. It set in some ease, but it wasn't enough. She needed to get home, but what'd she tell Harry? Her experience telling people about her chronic pain has always ended up in them pitying her or not entirely believing her. Now, don't be fooled. She's in pain, but she didn't want no one's pity. She just wanted someone to recognise the pain and help her find a goddamn solution to it. In contemplating her exit strategy, she didn't realise she started tearing up. She quickly stubbed her cigarette and switched on some music to distract her. She waited patiently till Harry arrived with the food.

Harry walked over to Ellie with their food in his hand. Only to find her doubled over with her head on her knees. He rushed to her, placed their food on the pavement, and nudged her shoulder. "Ellie, are you okay?" He asked her gently. Ellie looked up, and she looked like she was in a lot of pain. "Hey! What's wrong? Why are you crying?" He seemed very concerned now. "I'm in a lot of pain right now, and it flares up when I'm on my feet for too long. I'd been out all day before we met, and I wasn't expecting us to walk around so much." She all but cried. "Oh, you poor thing. I'll call a cab right now, and I'll take you home, okay?" Harry said, his hand gently rubbed her arm. She sniffled in response.

The cab arrived soon enough. Harry helped her into the car and got in after her. "Would you like to try and sleep till we get there? I can keep an eye on the map." He offered. "Thank you." She said before leaning her head against the window and closed her eyes.

"Ellie, darling. We're here." His voice broke her out of the soft slumber she'd fallen into. She opened her eyes and looked out, and sure enough, they were outside her apartment building. She got out of the cab and started walking towards her door, expecting him to follow her. Still, she turns around to check, and he's about to call out to her. "Are you not going to come upstairs?" She questioned. "I need to make one more stop. I'll be up in 10." He shrugged. "Okay, don't be too long." She says and continues walking.

Harry takes the cab to the nearest store and buys a pack of Epsom salt. His sister would always soak her feet in Epsom salt and hot water after ballet lessons. So he knew this would bring Ellie some relief.

Whenever they'd had a sleepover, they always end up at Harry's place, so he'd never really been here to her home. Her door was a dark pink, kind of Fuschia. He turned the knob, and it was open, so he walked in. The place was filled with little trinkets and plants and other knick-knacks all over the place. The centre of attention had to be her bright yellow couch. All her furniture was pointed at this showcase filled with other ceramic figurines. It was very colourful. If you look at Ellie, you wouldn't expect her to live here. Her style is muted and minimalistic, apart from her hair. That was always a bright colour. This time it was bright pink, very close to the colour of her door. He wondered if she changed the colour of her door as often as she changed her hair. But otherwise, she wore blacks mainly with an occasional cream and some other muted colours. So why the eccentricity in her décor, he wondered. He didn't ask her, though.

"So I think a hot bath would really help you, I got some Epsom salt, and you know, we could try it?" He asked her hesitantly. "A long bath can help ease your pain," he said. "Yeah, I'd like that," she said. "You wait here; I'll set it up." He ventured into her flat. She took off her jacket, walked into her kitchen and took out a joint. Holding the joint in between her fingers, she looked for the lighter and slowly lit it. Walked back to the couch, took off her pants and sweater she was wearing and laid back on the sofa and took a long drag. She knew now she could relax, and the pain would slowly ease up.

Meanwhile, in her bathroom, Harry was running a bath for her. He sat on the edge of the tub with his hand underwater to check the water temperature. Once it was hot enough, Harry walked back to the living room. He walked in on her, smoking the joint, for the first time that evening, he saw her so relaxed and quiet. He didn't want to disturb her. But she opened her eyes, "Hey you" she smiled. He reached for her. "The bath is ready. Come on," He said. She took his hand and got up. She stood on her tippy toes and kissed him, and he kissed her back, slowly supporting his palm on her lower back. He deepened the kiss, she put her arms around his neck. He smiled into the kiss and pulled away.

"I really like you, you know?" He held her in place with his arm around him and looked at her. His gaze bore into her. "I'm here for you, so you have to tell me how I can help you," He said. That's when Ellie looked away. She started walking towards the bathroom and looked over her shoulder. "Come sit with me?" She asked. "Of course." He said. "Can you bring me the ice pack from the freezer, please?" She called out. He turned around and walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to get the ice pack. He checked the time on his phone and walked back into her bathroom.

Ellie was already in the bathtub, and there was music playing softly while she smoked. He sat on the toilet and passed her the ice pack. "Here you go," He said. In return, she handed him the joint. He gave her a small smile and took it from her. He took a long drag and leaned back on the seat to stretch his legs a bit. She had these tiny pots of creepers wound up on different pipes all over her bathroom. She held the icepack to her face and felt so much relief.

"Elle, are you feeling any better?" He asked her. She nodded. Did the day go just like you wanted? played softly as she hummed along to it. "I know you want me to tell you what's going on, but I'm afraid you'll think I'm crazy," She said, not looking at him. "Darling, try me. I'm here to listen," He offered. He was still nursing the joint, looking like some kind of greek god. Just casually sitting on her toilet and observing her so carefully, she felt safe. Ellie's pain had calmed down a bit. The hot bath was helping quite a bit.

"Okay, so here goes, I took a fall about three years ago, and it kind of fucked my knee up. So I couldn't exercise much, and I wasn't moving around much. After a few months, I tried to do a simple workout, just to get back into the routine, but I was in an excruciating amount of pain." She looked up at him and saw that he'd moved to sit on the floor closer to her. When she looked up, he reached for her hand with a smile and held it. His rings felt cold on her hands as he slowly pressed the points on her fingers. It felt perfect. So she focused on that and continued. "After that, I went to a doctor to figure why it happened, but they couldn't understand because there weren't markers on the tests they did. Over the years, I went to all kinds of practitioners to help me find a solution to this pain, if not an answer to what it is. But they just kept saying it's in my head and not really give me an answer. I went to a psychiatrist, and they tried medication for depression. It only made me very drowsy and inefficient at work. But other than that, I don't really know what it is. I'm just hurting all the time." She sighed.

"Ellie, that is not okay. You shouldn't be in this amount of pain. I'm so glad you told me about it." He said. Harry reached for a stray strand on her face and pushed it back, and ran his thumb along her cheek. "Over time, I have stopped talking to people about this, 'cause it's not going change anything, and they just end up pitying me. So I did the next best thing, I bought this flat and made my home chronic pain friendly. I work from home, so I don't exert myself and have done that for over 2 years now. It's awfully lonely, though."

"I can't imagine how that must feel. For the record, I don't pity you. I just wish you'd told me before, then I wouldn't make our dates so hard on you. But wait. Did I cause you a lot of pain when we had sex?" He worried his lip and looked at her. "Oh no! You didn't at all. I just didn't want you to think I'm somehow weak and can't take care of myself. Today was a lot, and I'd been out for a couple of meetings for some upcoming projects, and it just all ended up weighing me down." She was tearing up now. "Darling, please don't cry. I don't think you can't take care of yourself. I think it was incredibly responsible of you to tell me when you reached your limit. I'm happy to accommodate whatever you need." He said to her. She could tell he was earnest. "Thank you, Harry. It feels good to be able to tell someone and have them believe me." She said to him.

They had been listening to Sea Change by Beck while they smoked together. He sat on the floor of her bathroom, with his legs stretched out and his hand in the water, holding one of her ankles. Just as a reassurance that he wasn't leaving. They talked mindlessly. He asked her about her ceramic figurines, and she told him that her grandma used to collect them, then her mom, and now she does. She brought them with her when she moved to this city. Her favourite one was the teal coloured soapstone hippo. She used to have heart-shaped soapstone, but she gave it to an ex who threw it away after they broke up. Just like that, he told her about the first time he fell in love. How he likes to keep in touch with his exes because they all ended mutually and were lovely people. She told him about her first break-up. They exchanged sibling horror stories. He told her about his niece Willow, whom he lovingly calls Willy. She hadn't realised until then, as they listened to the saddest break-up albums of all time, that Harry was in it for the long haul. "Think you're ready to move to the bed?" He asked as he rubbed his eyes. She slowly got up, and he stood up to help her out of the bath. Pulled up a towel for her and handed it to her. She walked over to her drawer and pulled out a pair of pyjamas for herself. He undressed into his boxers and placed his clothes on the wing chair next to her windowsill. She got into bed and opened the covers up for him. Her room was decorated the same, but fewer breakable items were in there. She had a few pictures of her family upon her wall, and a dog that he assumed was her childhood pet. He climbed in. "Small spoon?" He asked her; she answered by wrapping his around her and laid her head on his chest. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, and she sighed in contentment. "You know, when I first realised that they weren't gonna be able to find what's wrong with me, I'd listen to 'If you're feeling sinister a lot. It was kind of a constant at the time." she said.

"When Stuart Murdoch wrote the album, he was diagnosed with chronic fatigue syndrome, so he was on bed rest for a long time. He used to look out of his window and see all these people living their lives, and he'd feel so left out? So he poured all that yearning into it. One of the songs even has an overlay of children playing in the background. That album got me through some dark times." Harry was running a finger along her arm, raising goosebumps on her warm skin. Harry places a kiss on her hair, "You know when, Willow, was a little girl. I'd play this game with her during bedtime. It would really tire her out and change her mind from being upset for having to go to bed. Do you want to try it?" He says. "Sure, why not?" She smiles and places a kiss on his tattooed chest.

"Close your eyes. No peeking, okay?" He looks over to check a pokes a finger in her side to make sure, and she bursts out in giggles. "Okay! I promise." She laughs out. He holds her closer and takes a deep breath, her hair smells of berries and residual smoke, and he decides then that's his favourite smell. "We're on a hill. It's cold out. Both of us huddled under a blanket, looking at the sky. It's just us there, so it's very quiet. You can hear the birds around and the slight wind. When it touches you, you dig yourself closer to me, and I hold you a little tighter, just like I am right now." She listens carefully, picturing precisely what it would look like. She wonders if they have any pets with them, "Can we have a dog?" She asks, "Of course, whatever you'd like, pet." He says. "Okay, so we have a dog, a dalmatian puppy. What do you think her name should be?" She asks him. "You want a girl, huh?" He smirked at her. "Uh yeah, they're best, of course." She said as a matter of factly. "Um, what do you think of birdie?" "I love it." she smiles. "Birdie is running circles around our blanket. She's completely enchanted by butterflies and jumping up and down to get to them. She smells like lavender shampoo and puppy smell. She has a small spot on her nose that's shaped like a heart. That's what made you pick her at the pound. She's wearing a baby pink collar with a gold medallion which has her name engraved on it. She just saw us watching her, so now rushing to cuddle. She comes running to us and lands herself right in between, and we take her inside the blanket and settle in for a good ol' nap." Listening to him describe in such detail a life that he envisions for the two of them makes her feel so full of love.

"I feel so full and happy. A little hazy with that feeling, so much so that I can't remember what I was upset about." She smiles into his chest. "I told you, it'll help. It's tried and tested, ma'am." He says, ruffling her hair a bit. "Thank you so much, Harry. Thank you for staying and taking care of me and making sure I was okay. Thank you for listening to me and not judging me and just being here." She tears up a little.

"Hey, no tears." He says, wiping a stray tear that escaped. "And, you don't have to thank me at all. I just want you to be honest with me, so I can be there for you. You don't need to carry this all on your own. If you allow me, I'd like to ease the burden a little bit." He says as he runs his thumb along her cheek.

Now...

The loud barking from the other room jolts her out of her daydream. She looks up to see the reason behind the sound. Birdie comes running towards their bed with her toy, all prepared to jump up, but Harry stops her. "Birdie, no! Don't jump on Mummy!" "It's okay, Harry." Ellie reaches for Birdie. "You spoil her so much, she'd never going to learn." "Oh come on, sweets, it's our vacation. You have to let her get away with some things."

He sits up, and Birdie immediately places herself on his lap and whines for him to scratch her. He happily obliges. "Now, my darling wife, come here and give me a kiss before I take our baby out for a wee." You smile and lean up for a kiss. He kisses your nose once before getting out of bed and walking over to wear a pair of shorts. He turns around to Ellie, and says "Are you feeling up to a picnic?"

She smiles and hits save on the document she was typing. "Yes, I'll get the snacks ready. Give me five minutes." She places the laptop on the bed and walks over to him. She reaches on her tippy toes and grabs him by the neck, and gives him one big kiss.

46 notes · View notes

papeldetornasolcosmico · 4 years

Photo

MR. BUNGLE : The Raging Wrath Of The Easter Bunny Demo Trevor Dunn Interview - translated from french by Luis Misiara.

Q: So, the idea of rerecording the demo came from you...

A: Yes, the idea is entirely mine. This horrible idea! (laughter)

Q: For how long have you been thinking of this?

A: Oh, yeah, after a I met Dave Lombardo when he joined Fantomas. Honestly, it's like these songs were written with him in mind. We were listening to Slayer and this kind of music all the time back then. Re-recording it with him made a lot of sense to me.

Q: So, you then asked Mike Patton and Trey Spruance if they agreed?

A: Yeah, and they did!

Q: And then Dave.

A: That's right. Then we figured that a second guitarist would be a good idea. We had many guitarists in mind, but Mike and Dave both knew Scott. And it's crazy, because when we asked him if he was interesting, he didn't understand what we wanted, he thought we were inviting him to a Mr. Bungle concert! (Laughs) "No, we're asking you if you want to be part of the band!" And then we found out he's a total fan, which surprised me! He was ready to do it for free and he knew the songs in our first demo, I mean... He's an incredible rhythm guitarist, incredibly precise. Anyway, he's one of the original musicians of the genre, part of an elite of "thrash professors" like Dave. This is why we wanted them. His way of playing rhythm parts is different compared to Trey's, and on the album you hear one of them on the left and the other on the right, with little differences in terms of rhythm and tone, and these differences provide a lot to the album in my opinion.

Q: Did Dave know the demo as well?

A: No, I don't think so, but he was into the idea as well. We spoke for a while, and then one day he called Trey and asked him to redo the demos of the songs and to send him so he could learn them and surprise Mike and me.

Q: The album is truly excellent. I had only listened to the demo, which was only available in mp3 and with a sound quality that was far from ideal in order to assimilate this kind of music... But I re-listened to it after becoming familiar with the songs in their re-recorded versions, and I must say that everything was already there: great riffs, structures, you didn't change a lot in that sense. I was impressed that, for 16 year-olds, you could write thrashcore songs, some lasting up to 8 minutes, that didn't seem like a pile of riffs, not anybody can do that...

A: (Laughs) Thanks! I don't know what to say to that, or how to explain it... I always liked these songs and, over the years, I felt like bringing justice to them, playing and recording them as they deserved to be. At the time, we were a bit crazy, we really dived deep into the 80s metal wave, we absorbed every riff of every group we listened to, we studied this music, we analyzed the details and we tried to do something that would belong to us, something personal. But Trhash is just an example, you can do that with any kind of music. Even orchestral music, for instance, you just need to learn it, master it. You just need to want to and to have a desire of seizing a musical genre and then do anything you want. Also, if I wanted to write 80s thrash metal right now, it would be totally different, because these songs were written with the information and tools that were available to us at the time.

Q: Exactly: you lived in Eureka, a small Californian town. Was it easy for you to acquire all the thrash, crossover or hardcore records you wanted?

A: Not really, but there were two good record stores, and actually Mike amnaged to work in the bigger one. We read many magazines like Kerrang and fanzines like Maximum Rock and Roll and were abreast of all the new releases. If any album wasn't sent to the store automatically, Mike would order them. We were the first to do it! He would bring the records to my house, we would open them, tape them, bring them back to the magazine and wrap them back. (Laughs) That played a large role on the construction of our musical culture.

Q: Before Mr. Bungle, you only ever played with Gemini, right?

A: Right after I started playing bass, the next month, I joined two groups, one of them being Gemini. There were five members -- two guitar players, a drummer, a singer and me. Since the singer left right around the time I met Mike, I invited him to replace the guy. I didn't even know if he could sing or not, all I knew is that he loved music (Laughs). That was enough for me!

Q: Was it just a covers group?

A: No, I had started writing songs, but mostly rock. At the time, hardcore and thrash music hadn't arrived at Eureka yet. It was a bit like AC/DC, or even a mix between ZZ-Top and Rush!

Q: On Youtube, one can find videos of you playing covers of Judas Priest, Kiss, Iron Maiden...

A: There you go. That was recorded a bit later, with Mike singing.

Q: How was life in Eureka at the time? When Dave asked him to record demos for the songs so he could learn them, Trey was right there, and he said playing these riffs 33 years later, "in the same goddamn town, in the same goddamn house" had an interesting effect on him!

A: (Laughs) I wouldn't say it's a goddamned town, but it's truly a special place, and it always was. Unfortunately, it's a very poor city, very labor-based, living out of forestry and fishing, two sectors that have seen better days. Now, there are many homeless people there, and intense meth dealing activity... Eureka laways had many strange characters because it's quite isolated, and it would welcome people running away from big cities or from their own past. But it's also great, the nature is wonderful, the landscapes, the forests. My mother still lives there, and as such I'm often going back there, and the same applies to Trey, which is why he was there recently, recording new demos to send out to Dave.

Q: Were there many bands at the time?

A: There was always a music scene, especially a punk scene, before we started out, and also a jazz scene, but these scenes were very small and comprised very few musicians. When we started out, there wasn't any metal or thrash band, that was a new genre for Eureka. The "metal scene" was solely made up of people we went to school with, perhaps one or two college students, but what I mean is that verybody knew each other.

Q: When did you meet Trey?

A: At high school, one or two years after I met Mike. I met Trey in my music theory class. We had many tastes in common, we were hungry for different musical genres and we wanted to study music. We then started rehearsing together with a drummer with whom Trey played.

Q: Mr. Bungle is a perfect name for the kind of music you started playing later on, but quite unusual for the thrash/thrashcore band you were at the start. [That name has] nothing to do with Corrosion of Conformity, Nuclear Assault, Anthrax or Slayer...

A: (Laughs) That's for sure... Once again, it was my idea... I was completely obsessed by Pee-Wee Herman and his show at HBO at the time, it was well before Pee-Wee's Playhouse, his show for children. I was mad about that show, I would record the audio of it and listen to it repeatedly. I'm sure that, if I watched it know, I would know the scripts by heart. During the show, he would play old educational shorts with Mr. Bungle teaching good manners and hygiene to children. To use the name Mr. Bungle while playing trhash was a way to show that we didn't belong to any scene, to any one genre. It was an absolutely non-metal name.

Q: The title of the demo also, as well as the song titles, displays a very "non-metal" humor.

A: There you go, precisely. At first, we wanted to call ourselves "Summer Breeze", like the Seals & Crofts song, which we ended up playing live. There was no way we would choose a "metal" name. Why should we? Music speaks for itself. I think more bands should think like that and do away with clichés.

Q: I guess you didn't play the songs in Raging Wrath (...) live very often back then?

A: No, for the first couple of years we didn't play many shows, we played a few on occasion. There weren't many places for us to play at, and they were very tiny. Nobody would book us, we had to organize our own concerts. But after we released our first two albums, when Mr. Bungle became a touring band, we played one or two of these songs. Nobody knew them, but we always thought they were good, so...

Q: What happened between your first demo and Bowel of Chiley (1987), the second one? Within a year, you evolved in such a way that it doesn't even seem like the same group...

A: Yes, we always evolved, even when the first demo was recorded, we were always trying to evolve. Mike Trey and I always listened to all kinds of music, classical, pop, jazz, and even in the first demo there are a couple of non-metal tracks. We always sought new ways to express ourselves. "Going forward and never repeating ourselves" was always our motto. Whenever we did something, we would move to the next right after. Therefore, ok, we recorded our 80s thrash album, there's no way we'll make another. If we ever release another album, I couldn't even tell you how it would sound like, I don't know. All I can say is that it would be different.

Q: In fact, the second part of "Hypocrites" and "Evil Satan", in spite of its extremely metal title, are not thrash, but rather ska in the case of the former and funk rock in the latter. You didn't re-record these tracks. They announced your more "fusionining" demos...

A: Yes, "Evil Satan" didn't fit with the rest. We had a couple of ideas on how to transform it, but in the end we didn't keep it. It's always like that with us: at each recording session for one of our albums, there are songs that seem to be a bit "out of character" with the rest and we do away with them. We either put them to the side to be used later on, or abandon them for good. Also, this song was always a bit of a joke. For us, it didn't fit the album.

Q: You guys have a stash of unreleased Mr. Bungle songs...

A: Yes. For instance, in our third demo released in 1989, OU818, you've got "Mr. Nice Guy", which was never properly released in an album. I think there's also two songs from the California sessions. They didn't survive past the mixing stage, we knew they wouldn't be part of the album and didn't want to waste the time or energy working on them anymore. It's possible that we may one day decide to finish them and release them... I don't know, we've never discussed this. But yes, there are a few unreleased Mr. Bungle songs.

Q: Talking about songs that were unreleased until now: when were "Eracist", "Glutton for Punishment" and "Methematics" made?

A: "Methematics" was written in the 80s, at the time we made the first demo, as well as "Glutton for Punishment". "Eracist", on the other hand, had never been finished, it was in the "pile of riffs" stage. The riffs are from that time, but the arrangements are recent. We never played those songs live at the time and they were only ever recorded in Cassette tapes. But we thought they matched the album perfectly, unlike "Evil Satan" or the second half of "Hypocrites", which we didn't re-record, since they were more like jokes or parodies.

Q: One of the riffs in "Methematics" was later used in "Love is a Fist", one of your classic songs present in OU818 and in the first album.

A: Yes, that's true! That's also typical of our way of working. If a riff in a song that was left off an album pleases us, we recycle it, that's what happened in this case. But I didn't even remember it anymore, it was when we decided to re-record this song that I realized, re-listening to it, "oh yeah, the fucking riff is from there!"... But we decided to leave it in, since the song was built around that riff. Furthermore, honestly, the two riffs aren't exactly the same, there's a different note!

Q: (Laughs)

A: We changed the ending of the riff in "Love is a Fist", I don't know why, but this time we have the original riff. Thus, it's not EXACTLY the same riff. (Laughs)

Q: I suppose that the song being titled "Methematics" refers to what you told me just now about the meth being sold in Eureka...

A: Yes. Originally, the song was entitled "Mathematics". I mean, that was just a working title, I never thought the final title would be that. I wrote this song, but I never had any idea for a vocal line and barely wrote any words for it. I asked Mike to do it. Mike, Trey and I then started to talk about what this song should be about. We then realized it would be a good idea to include some Eureka "folklore". In fact, the lyrics are full of references nobody could understand, mentioning people that attended high school with us, our teachers, things that happened to us at the time. For instance, there's this verse: "stab a dog, climb a tree, just to pass geometry". It's a reference to a guy that stabbed a dog and then hid it in a tree to escape the police -- and he was then arrested, of course. This is the type of news story that made an impact on us. There wasn't meth in Eureka when we were in high school, but it's sort of an acerbic homage. (Laughs). I did write the lyrics for "Glutton for Punishment" at the time, however.

Q: So the lyrics in "Methematics" are recent, but did you change the lyrics in the other songs, the ones originally present in the demo?

A: No, we left them as they were. Not entirely, in fact, because we couldn't remember some of the parts. Even when re-listening to the original demo, Mike couldn't understand what he was singing at certain points, so some words and sentences were changed.

Q: Along with the unreleased tracks, you recorded a few covers, notably "(Fuck the) USA", by The Exploited, which isn't in the album, but that was released on the Internet. Your version is entitled "USA" only, was that an attempt to avoid censorship in social media?

A: No, no, the official songtitle is "USA".

Q: In the Exploited albums where it's released, it's either titled "(Fuck the) USA", "Fuck the USA" or "USA".

A: Yes, and I think the original title is "USA". In any case, that's how we always called it. Also, it's certainly easier to have it circulate in social media with that title.

Q: Among all the covers you played in the concerts, how did you chose the ones you wanted to record?

A: We recorded absolutely all of the songs we played live, so we had around twenty minutes of covers. I still don't know what we will do with the other ones.

Q: Ah, OK. So, among them, how did you choose the ones that ended up in the final album? Namely, S.O.D.'s Speak English or Die and Corrosion of Conformity's Loss For Words.

A: I don't even know... surely we thought that those were the ones that would fit the best with the others. I think most albums right now are too long, and that's also the [incomplete]

Q: Also, why did you split up?

A: We never split up, we're about to release a new album!

Q: Yes, it's true, you never officially split up, but you didn't do anything together for twenty years...

A: We just took a break. A 20-year break! (Laughs). I challenge you to find a note in which we announced that we split up as a group...

Q: I spent an afternoon in Paris with Mike Patton last summer...

A: Oh, poor guy... (Laughs)

Q: (Laughs) You wouldn't believe it if I told you. We spoke to him in English, but he answered us in Spanish a few times... Also, when he showed up on a Youtube video playing a cover of "Speak English or Die" with the members of S.O.D., I wasn't surprised that he renamed it "Speak Spanish or Die". Your version is also entitled "Habla Español o Muere". Do you know why he's obsessed with Spanish these days?

A: Oh, I don't think he's obsessed with Spanish, but he is still in San Francisco, and many people speak Spanish in California...

Q: Yes, that's what he told us afterwards. Well, after a while, he posted videos on Youtube, which were shared by the Revolver magazine website, in which he pronounces Spanish words, dressed like a Mexican bandit or something...

A: (Laughs) What I know is that he spent a long time learning Italian, and both languages are a bit similar. I think, in any case, that more Americans, starting with myself, should follow his example and learn at least another language! (Says sentences in Spanish) That's all I can do...

Q: Did you retitle the song like that because S.O.D. and Billy Milano were considered racist at the time?

A: No, no, no, we don't care what people think! If you took those lyrics at face value, you would think the person writing them was racist, but it's clearly a joke. It's like when you write a poem or a movie script: you can write sentences for a character that is racist, but you want to express something else with it. It doesn't mean the person who wrote the text is racist, the character does not reflect who the writer is. I think people frequently forget that when they listen to music. When a singer takes the role of a narrator, it doesn't mean what is sung is their personal opinion. No, we renamed the song because we love hispanic culture, because many people speak Spanish in the United States, and because of the Trumpism that has grown over there, this "build a wall" attitude. But we could have recorded it with the original lyrics, we don't care.

Q: Yes, and also "La Cucaracha" establishes the link between "Hypocrites" and "Habla Español o Muere".

A: Yes, "La Cucaracha" is in the demo, I couldn't tell you why, but it's what gave us the idea of replacing the second part of "Hypocrites" with "Habla Español o Muere", the Spanish language is the link.

Q: When re-recording these songs, did the dive into that time make you want to re-listen to your thrash, thrashcore and hardcore albums you listened to when you were 16-17 years old?

A: Not really. Well, a bit of nostalgia is apparent in my choices when I look into my CD and vinyl collection. But I didn't feel the need to resort to these old records, I just had to re-study these old Mr. Bungle songs and to reconnect with this style of music, because it requires some practice. So we had to record new demos for the songs, so that Dave and Scott could learn them, since it was impossible with the original demo. Reecording these demos, to me, helped me remember the songs and work on them. It's crazy: when I play these riffs again, I can remember what I was thinking when I wrote them 35 years ago... At the time, I listened to all kinds of metal, thrash, punk metal, crossover, but I also listened to Jaco Pastorius, The Police, Charlie Parker, Stravinsky, a bunch of different things. So, when I was in high school, one had to choose where one stood, if you were a punk, if you were a skater who listened to J.F.A. (Jodie Foster Army) and Corrosion of Conformity or if you were a metalhead who listened to Metallica. Listening to these groups and subgenres at the same time was considered weird, it was frowned upon. Mike, Trey and I always thought that was ridiculous, we listened to anything.

Q: In the 90s, many bands like Anthrax or Corrosion of Conformity evolved to a heavier and more melodic type of music. Did you still listen to them during that time?

A: Not really. After Reign in Blood, which could be the pinnacle of this genre of music, I lost interest. I was in college, I got more into classical music and took a deeper dive into other genres. Thus, I didn't listen to a lot of metal in the 90s. I always listen to Reign in Blood or Animosity and they always sound good to me. But bands evolve, people's tastes evolve, and I didn't follow the careers of these bands that I enjoyed, also due to a certain lack of time.

Q: Do you listen to current bands that play this type of 80s thrash/thrashcore?

A: Pfff... no, I'm really out of the loop in regards to what's happening in the metal scene. I've heard a few grindcore groups, but mostly those that are more extreme, like Full of Hell, which we invited to open for us in New York. So I don't know a lot of what is done in metal nowadays, but I enjoy a few bands and have been attending their concerts when I can. But so many albums come out, it's crazy, it's impossible to follow... On the other hand, I haven't listened to young bands playing 80s thrash in a long time...

Q: Let's talk a bit about the shows that you played in February...

A: It was all really cool: playing these songs live, being face to face with an excited crowd, with all these cool bands opening for us (Full of Hell, Ho99o9, Melvins, Hirax, Victims Family, Spotlights, Possessed, Cattle Decapitation, Intestinal Digorge, Cunts, Cleric...).

----

Q: Were your fans surprised that you reunited with this lineup and these songs? Even recently, even though it had been a few months that the reunion was announced, some fans appeared to be blindsided when you released "Raping Your Mind".

A: Oh, yeah! Many people aren't happy, they think this isn't the "true Mr. Bungle". They complain that these songs have nothing new or experimental about them, that it wasn't what they were expecting of us etc. But hey, we always did what we wanted, none of our albums are similar and as long as Trey, Mike and I are in the group, it's Mr. Bungle, period! In any case, other fans are quite pleased!

Q: In New York, Harley Flanagan joined you on stage to play "Malfunction", originally by the Cro-Mags, with you. This seems to be Mike's idea...

A: Yes, Mike contacted him. We are big fans of the first Cro-Mags album. We had plans to play with other guests, especially Keith Morris from the Circle Jerks, who was going to go on stage with us in Los Angeles, but he couldn't because he got sick.

Q: Jed Watts, your first drummer, who played on the demo, also went on stage with you...

A: Yes, he came to play "Anarchy Up Your Anus" during one of our concerts in San Francisco. We were in contact with him and told him about our project to re-record these songs. He told us he was a bit jeaous, but he was also happy for us. That was a happy reunion.

Q: Does he still play music?

A: Yes, he didn't become a professional musician like us, but he still plays with a band in Eureka.

Q: Well, how does the future look like for Mr. Bungle right now?

A: Eugh... surviving until 2021. Not catching this virus. We wanted to play other concerts with this line-up before all this madness. And I think we will do it sometime. But for now, the future is really vague, not only concerning Mr. Bungle, since all of our activities are suspended.

Q: I suppose you were invited by European festivals?

A: We received a bunch of offers from festivals around the world, it's incredible! But I don't know what's going to happen, maybe there will be no concerts ever again... (Laughs)

Q: If I understand what you told me just now, you don't think about trying to write new music with this line-up.

A: No, we said all we wanted to say with this line-up, it's over. Barring the possibility of new concerts, because it would be cool to be able to play more shows. Also to release the other covers that we recorded. But I don't see any interest in recording another album in this genre. When we start a project, we go deep, we put all of our energy into making it perfect. Afterwards, we never recover that same energy to do the same thing over again. Some groups, perhaps most of them, do that: record an album, tour, record a similar album etc. I don't know why, but I think of Radiohead. I'm a big fan of OK Computer, I've listened to that album a million times. Their next albums are really good, the band evolved, for sure, but they developed a specific sound. I would like to evolve like that with Mr. Bungle, but I don't know if we're capable of that, I don't think so... In any case, concerning 80s thrash, we've said what we wanted to say. But we are children of 80s thrash, so this music always runs in our blood -- it'll come out whatever we do, whether in a riff, in an attitude, or in something else...

Q: Could you write and record a metal album, but not really 80s-based, something more modern?

A: Yes, we could record an album in the style of, uh... uh... fill in the blank! (Laughs)

Q: You could reunite with another Mr. Bungle line-up and do something else...

A: There are no plans for that.

Q: Are you still in touch with Danny Heifetz, Clinton McKinnon or Theo Lengyel?

A: Not with Theo, but with Danny and Clinton, yes. I talk to them from time to time, but both live in Australia. We of course updated them on what we were about to do, since we wanted to be really transparent with them. We presented the project to them: "There you go, we re-recorded the first demo with Dave and Scott, we're going to play concerts using the name Mr. Bungle, and if you don't like it... fuck you!" (Laughs) No, they totally got it. I would love to play with those guys again. We'll see...

Q: Out of the three Mr. Bungle albums, which one is your favorite? I feel people often choose the first one or California, Disco Volante less often, sadly, especially all the bad bands that copy you...

A: (Laughs) I'd say California, because in terms of studio work, it's truly our pinnacle. But honestly, I don't listen to them, they are too loaded with memories, I can't listen to my own albums, no matter what they are. I can't prevent myself from revisiting the situation, the studio sessions, our arguments about this or that song, and also i think about production choices that weren't kept, etc. It's too loaded with memories that infect my listening.

Q: Did you use your confinement to write and start new projects?

A: Yes, I wrote for my next Trio Convulsant album. I hope I have enough material for an album at the end of the year, and then record it as soon as possible.

Q: Is the new Tomahawk album finished?

A: Yes! Duane, John and I recorded our parts three years ago in Nashville. We then waited for Patton to finish his vocal parts, and I think he did so recently. I can't even remember what the album sounds like! (Laughs)

Q: You can't even tell me if it's different or not?

A: No, I don't remember at all... I'm exaggerating, I think it sounds like the one I played on before, Oddfellows. Tomahawk is Duane's baby, he writes it all, he even gives Mike ideas for lyrics. I'd say the album sounds a bit like the last one, but I didn't listen to it finished...

#mr bungle #trevor dunn #The Raging Wrath Of The Easter Bunny #music

24 notes · View notes

sarcastically-defensive17 · 4 years

Note

Hey, ida if you're accepting request, but how about reader and Luke being dating for a few years but lately they're having a lot of fights and he's very busy with the album, and then there is the quarantine and instead of work things out they just avoid each other, so reader maybe learnt to play piano bc of Luke and sings out of love by Alessia Cara and Luke is just like "I fucked up" and well they try to make it work... Pretty please

Out of love - L. Hemmings

Requests are always open! Send them in here: REQUESTSSS

I absolutely adore this idea, and that song is gorgeous but I think it kind of went down hill as I wrote it! I hope you like it!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

After five years, Y/N and Luke had seen almost all of the bad times. You had been there from the very start. she held his hand while they all counted the seconds until the first album dropped. She stood by his side through scandals, and hate from fans and media alike. She was his rock, and he was hers.

The past month had been the most stressful of his career, and that really is saying something. Y/N tried her hardest to be there for him. The spread of the Coronavirus had everybody on edge, Y/N included. Luke, on the other hand, spent many hours of the day going over the effects the outbreak and impending quarantine could have on his career. Namely, the release of their newest album.

They had both hit the end of their ropes. Y/N would get defensive over the slightest comment, and Luke would lash out randomly. The stress spent more time building for the two of them than it did easing.

Arguments almost every day for two weeks, hours spent up at night sitting in a tense silence while trying to figure out the cause of their issues.

In five years, Y/N had never shouted at her love so much. In five years, Luke had never avoided his girl so much.

They hit rock bottom when a small question escalated into an argument.

"Honey? You okay?" She asked after she walked in on Luke launching his phone onto their shared bed.

"I'm fine." He barely looked at her, snapping the words out of pure frustration at the world.

At this point, it was hard for Luke to see anything other than anger. He was simply so aggravated with everything that he could barely even acknowledge who he directed his anger towards.

Unfortunately, Y/N was quickly growing to be the same way.

"Rather than being an ass about it, you could just talk to me, you know?" She snipped, rolling her eyes at the tall man.

From there, it escalated dramatically. Insults were thrown, screams were released, and finally, Y/N told him to leave.

"If you would stop being an uptight bitch for one second, you would realize that I don't need your goddamn help, Y/N!"

Her mouth dropped at the words, and his jaw mirrored the action. It was the last straw. They had both thrown many insults at one another over the years, but the malice in his voice told her that he meant every word.

"Get the hell out." She turned away from him, intending to leave the room. "I'm not dealing with your self-centered bullshit anymore, Luke."

"I'm not leaving my own house," He scoffed, and a sarcastic laugh escaped from his throat.

She turned back to him, eyes full of unshed tears and an anger he had never before seen plastered on her face.

"Fine. You wanna stay? Then stay." her hands found her suitcase - the same one Luke had bought her for the bands 'Sounds Live, Feels Live" tour - and began piling clothes inside. She didn't pay attention to what was thrown in, but as soon as it was full, and she had kissed Petunia on the head, she left.

She found herself on Crystal's doorstep, tears falling from her eyes, sobs wracking her form.

She was ordered to stay at the Clifford household until she was ready to go back home. Back to him.

A week had passed and nothing. She tried to call him after five days and the call went straight to his voicemail.

Despite the presence of one of her best friends, and the overly cheerful Michael Clifford, she couldn't shake how lonely she was without the presence of the man she loved.

She made the decision to leave the house. She wanted some space.

She expected a call or something after a few days. She expected him to answer the phone when she called, even if it ended in a screaming match. She wanted at least something to remind her that she was still his.

A few days later, and they were required to enter quarantine. Crystal, in all her overbearing instincts, ordered her to occupy their spare bedroom until she could go back to her own house.

Which meant more time away from Luke.

14 days had passed and he had ignored every one of her calls, her messages. She had even tried to send him a message on Instagram in hopes that she would get a reply. She simply got left on open.

After five years, he had made it clear that he was done with her, and she was truly heart broken.

Her emotions got the best of her and she had found herself toying with the piano that Michael had in his practice room.

She was flooded with memories of countless secret lessons spent with Ashton in hopes of learning one of their songs for Luke. Y/N knew how much music meant to Luke, and she thought it would be a good way to pull some emotion from him during the tough time, but unfortunately, she never got so far.

For the first time in their relationship, Luke had counted down the seconds until release alone. He should have been happy but all he could feel was guilt flow through his body with every beat of his heart.

It killed him to think of his girl sitting all alone, counting the minutes down as they had for the previous three albums.

It hurt him to keep a smile on his face through the Instagram lives, and talk about how he wrote some of the lyrics to 'Lover of Mine' with the woman.

What really struck a chord in him, was the video she had posted the day after the release.

The picture was black and white, similar to the one he uploaded of his 'Best Years' performance.

Y/N was positioned at a piano, as she skillfully played the intro to an Alessia Cara song she loved, but he couldn't remember the name.

He had heard her sing before, but never to this extent. She looked at home with the keys in front of her.

I won't tell you I'm lonely, 'cause it might be selfish. I won't ask you to hold me 'cause that won't mend what's helpless.

His stomach dropped as the lyrics flooded his mind. The song was about an intense heartbreak, a longing for answers.

He could faintly see the outline of a tear dropping down her cheek, but she kept her voice strong. The black and white video was chosen especially to hide her emotions.

There's not a thing I could say, not a song I could sing for your mind to change.

He knew the song was dedicated to him. He didn't know when she had learned to play his favourite instrument, but he was lost in the perfection of her every move.

His heart yearned to hold the woman in his arms and apologize for every wrong he had committed over the past month and a half.

But let me ask you one thing, oh, when did you fall out of love? Out of love. Oh, when did you fall out of love with me?

He knew she was hurting. He had avoided her messages because he was too blinded by his own anger and stress to truly realize the damage he had done to the woman.

She looked physically in pain, yet her beauty still radiated through the grey scale video. Tears dropped from his own eyes as he witnessed the woman he loved experience such heartache.

She truly believed he had fallen out of love with her because of his actions.

He had hurt her so deeply.

Before he could finish the video, his keys were in hand and he was slamming the door behind him.

The doorbell rang through Michael and Crystal's house and Y/N made a move to get the door. They were all stumped as to who it could be, as everybody was to maintain social distance and only leave the house to retrieve essentials.

As soon as the door was opened, a mop of blond curls had attacked her, wrapping his long arms around her body and dragging her into one of the many rooms of the Clifford house, leaving a very confused Michael and Crystal watching the scene from a lounge.

The door was closed behind them, but the large human had yet to detach himself from her body and instead, ended up kneeled in front of her, forehead pressed against her stomach and sobs shaking his body against hers.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I fucked up. I fucked up big time," his voice was wet through the heavy sobs and her fingers went to his hair, hoping to soothe him enough to calm the tears.

Luke felt so guilty. He had hurt her so much and not had a single care for the repercussions. He was selfish and convinced the woman, who had stood by his side for five years, through so much, that he didn't love her.

All because he was stressed over the album.

"Luke-"

"No," he cut her off, standing to his feet so she can see the intensity of his puffy eyes, "No. You have every right to be mad at me. I fucked up, Y/N. I was so worried about how we were going to promote the album and what was going to happen with the quarantine that I took it out on you. I can't apologize to you enough."

She had spent too many sleepless nights wondering if he would ever speak to her again, and if he still loved her that she was at a loss of words when he finally made contact.

"Luke," she tried, taking a moment to piece together what she wanted to say. "You can be such an asshole sometimes."

He laughed at the emission, waiting with bated breath to find out if she still wanted him around.

"I will forever be in your corner. I will always be on your side, and I act like an overbearing bitch because I care about you, but so help me, if you ever say that to me again, I won't forgive you," Her voice was strict, and he nodded at the instructions.

He can't believe he let the words fall from his lips. He would never intentionally hurt the woman, and he was beyond disgusted at himself for making her think he would ever stop loving you.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he stated, pulling into another hug.

"I love you too, Lu."

"You're only meant to leave the house for essentials, Lucas!" Michael screeched from the doorway, cringing at the couple while Crystal rolled her eyes at him.

"I know. Y/N is the only essential I need."

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings x reader #5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #crystal leigh #calum hood #ashton irwin #petunia #requests #send em in kiddos

117 notes · View notes

bluejeanlouis · 5 years

Text

COMING SOON: The Yellow Roof, 1970s AU by kiddle

Louis is a gifted musician spending his days on the wrong side of a drive-thru window. Harry is the lead singer of a band in need of a little talent. Their big break is a thousand miles away.

Preview under the cut:

With a deep sigh, Louis leaned his chair on its back two legs, propping one of his feet up next to the till in front of him. The sun was blinding between the trees of the neighbourhood across the street, striking his eyes through the drive-thru window. He yanked the blind closed even though he wasn’t supposed to when the Fotomat was open. But there was no one around and his ability to give a shit had decreased significantly today. Slurping on the can of Coke he brought with him, he pulled out his lyric book.

Louis was not a poet. In fact, the pretentious and dull poetry class he took in his second semester at college was detrimental in his decision to drop out a year later. He didn’t like the confusion of poetry and the rules despite being an art form that claimed to be free of them. Don’t get him wrong, he was confident in his own writing, he just didn’t want to be taught how to do it.

But one look under the cover of that notebook would reveal pages and pages of poetic garbage. Some of it was great, and a couple had even ended up as actual songs back when Louis was performing solo at bars before he gave up on that too. Most of it was scribbled chicken scratch. That was just his process.

He held the notebook against his knees, tracing dark lines across the last words he wrote last night with his pen. It was some bullshit angsty heartbreak harnessed from his high school first love mixed with the anger of being sacked from a band that he was the best instrumentalist in. Sometimes that kind of emotion makes for a perfect writing session, and sometimes it’s a diary entry you never want to see the light of day.

Louis bit the end of his pen, rereading the words on his page. ‘Heart’ had to be the most overused word in love songs, and he had it down in every verse and the chorus. Love songs weren’t even what he wanted to write about. It wasn’t the only feeling out there. It sure as hell wasn’t the most predominant one in his mind.

A loud and abrupt knock on the window made Louis nearly leap out of his seat. His notebook and pen tumbled to the ground as he dropped his feet from the desk. He yanked on the string to make the blind spring back up, knocking his Coke over in the process. He picked it up just as quick, groaning at the mess it made. All the commotion caused the stack of pickup envelopes next to the widow to splay out over the desk in front of him. Now that the customer could see him, he tried to push him all out of the way before he slid the window open.

“Hi, welcome to— Shit!”

One of the envelopes had landed in the small puddle of spilled Coke. He tried to wipe it off on his jeans as quickly as he could before returning it to the scattered pile with the others. Once he finally composed himself, he tried to greet the customer properly.

But then his face fell to disgust.

“What are you doing here?”

“You left so quickly yesterday, we didn’t have the chance to talk,” said Harry, the lead singer of Louis’ former going-nowhere band. Harry had one hand casually rested on the steering wheel, the other elbow poking out the window, and sunglasses sitting low on his nose. Louis hated how effortlessly cool he could always look. It made him the perfect goddamn lead singer.

Louis rolled his eyes. “What did you want me to do? Beg for you to let me stay? ‘You’re out of the band’ was pretty loud and clear.”

“I mean, I thought we could have a discussion about it.”

“So you showed up to my work to have a discussion about it?” He hunched over so just his head was sticking out the window, his fist squished into his cheek to hold his head up.

“You wouldn’t answer the phone last night.”

“Take a hint,” he snapped, then slid the window shut with enough force to make it bounce halfway open again. He pushed it the rest of the way closed in a huff.

But Harry hadn’t driven away yet, so Louis slumped over in his chair and refused to look in his direction. Why the hell would he show up here? Just to rub it in his face? The new guy always loses the band argument. Louis was over it, and he had the faint remnants of a hangover to prove it.

He took a swig of his Coke that was now almost empty. No one ever left any napkins around here, but a few tissues seemed to do the trick to sop up that puddle. As he tried to avoid getting sticky hands, Louis could see Harry getting out of his car in the bottom corner of his eye. Then he heard the window opening again.

“Louis, listen to me,” Harry pressed. He had his hand in the way so Louis couldn’t shut it, but it did cross Louis’ mind to crush his fingers just to get him out of here.

“Go away,” he stated, pulling the roller blind between them. If only it was soundproof.

The blind sprung up again, revealing a wildly frustrated Harry on one side and an indifferent Louis on the other. He was pretending to read a copy of Vogue that one of the girls from the after-school shift left behind last night.

“We have a meeting with a record company in L.A. and they’re expecting a four-piece to show up. There’s no time to find a new bassist, so you’re back in the band.”

Louis folded down one corner and peeked his eye over Carrie Fisher’s head.

“How’d you get a meeting? The band sucks.”

Harry stared at him, angrily chewing on his lip, then turned around with a huff. “Fuck you,” he muttered, opening his car door.

Louis waited for him to start the engine and leave, but then the words “L.A.” and “record company” flashed with lights and sirens in his mind, and he imagined this opportunity driving off and never looking back.

“Wait!” Louis called out, tossing the magazine to the side and launching himself out the back door. He ran across the front of the car and slammed his hands on the hood so Harry couldn’t move the car an inch further. They eyed each other, and when Louis trusted that Harry wouldn’t speed off the moment he moved, Louis ran around to the passenger seat and got in.

Harry shook his head, both hands gripped tight on the steering wheel. “I’ve been dealing with your bullshit for ten years, man,” he said.

So maybe Louis wasn’t being totally truthful about what happened with the band.

Louis met Harry in his first year of middle school. They ended up in the same gym class, which was hell for every twelve-year-old, but for people like Louis and Harry, it was just a little too much to bear. They found skillful ways to ditch whenever possible, especially when it came to running the mile. Sometimes they’d hang out near the back of the group when everyone was filling out the gym doors, then slip out the side and circle the building before the teacher saw. The equipment closet was full of plenty of hiding spaces that begged to be taken advantage of. The best days were when they had a substitute who wouldn’t even notice that they never came back from a bathroom break in the change room.

In high school, they drifted, hanging out in the same group of freaks and burnouts, but not often with each other. They’d find themselves at the same parties and bickering in the same cars full of friends, but that initial bond had faded. Once college rolled around, they weren’t surprised to find out they’d be going to the same state school, but discovering their dorms were across the hall from each other was quite the shock.

They had become inseparable again, except for the inevitable monthly fights that left them not speaking to each other for days at a time. That went on for about two years until Louis dropped out and Harry continued with his literature degree. During that time, they hardly saw each other at all. Louis began to wonder if their friendship had only ever been one of convenience. But just as the year of 1972 was beginning, Louis got a phone call from that on-and-off best friend of his asking if he wanted to join his band.

Harry and Louis fought from day one, but just as much as they hated each other’s guts, they loved each other too. Louis would still consider Harry his friend, but he would have no problem telling him what an insufferable bastard he was right to his face. It was a brotherly bond. Sort of.

“How’d you get the meeting?” Louis asked, turning sideways in his seat. “When is it?”

“We sent in our demo and they want to talk to us. That’s it,” he said. “The meeting is next week and they want all of us there.”

“Me included?”

“You’re on the demo.”

The demo was pretty shit if you asked Louis, but he decided to keep that to himself. They recorded it at their old college in the crummy basement studio run by students, and you could guess that by the first listen. Louis looked out at the empty parking lot ahead of them. He had memorized every detail of this parking lot. It had become the scenery for his life. He couldn’t wait until he never had to look at it again.

“Do you actually want me back in the band?” Louis wondered, sincerity in his voice for once.

“I—” Harry started, but didn’t look him in the eye. “I want to be at a place where you could be in the band without the two of us constantly at each other’s necks.”

“That would be nice, yeah,” Louis sighed.

They sat in silence, Louis weighing his options and Harry wondering if he really should’ve taken that ignored phone call as a hint.

“So, what, is this to discuss an album deal?” Louis asked, hoping more detail might help his decision.

“It’s to discuss our potential. They didn’t tell me a whole lot, but if they want to spend their time on us then they gotta have some hope.”

A car horn blared loudly behind them, an impatient customer waiting his turn to desperately develop the photos from his five-year-old’s birthday party, surely. It startled them, but that was Louis’ cue to get back to work, he supposed.

“Can I think about it?” Louis asked. He was already halfway out the door.

“Not for too long. We meet them next week.”

The horn blared again.

“One second!” Louis called out. The guy in the car flipped him the bird and Louis wasn’t hesitant to send him one right back.

“What’s the label?”

“CBS,” Harry said.

Shit, Louis thought. CBS was no joke.

“Move your fucking car!” the guy behind them hollered out his window.

Harry glanced at the angry face in his rear-view mirror, then ignored it completely. Louis looked like he was about to leave, but Harry grabbed his arm to stop him. “Before you go, take this.” He dropped a roll of film into Louis’ open palm.

Louis looked at it curiously, his other hand on the door handle. “What’s this?”

Harry laughed. “Photos I need to get developed. This is a Fotomat, is it not?”

“It is,” Louis said slowly.

“I’ll be back in twenty-four hours,” Harry said, plucking his sunglasses off the dash and sliding them onto his face. “For those photos and for an answer.”

#larry fanfiction #it should be completed this spring #i've never made one of these posts so i had a little fun with it #let me know what you think if you want!

151 notes · View notes

nosferatyou · 4 years

Text

If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 5 (Jack White x OC)

Summary: Shes back in Nashville and Ben finally drags Lee out to a Third Man show. To Lee’s surprise, she runs into an old friend...

WC: 3k

Warnings: Cigarettes, maybe cursing (?), and death by Jack White.

Notes: Damn y’all its my best chapter to date. Honestly im pretty damn proud of this. Also why is jack white so damn hard to write. Is he a hard ass with a heart of gold, or a dad who happens to play guitar. When i figure it out ill let you know. PS. If you find my fic reference (or fic rec for anyone who hasn’t read it) shoutout to you. If youre anything like me you read the whole series in two days and couldn’t think about anything else. You probably also looked up Rosaries for sale.

This was 14 years in the making. We were bound to run into each other again. I was expecting it in a weird way. It always works out that way; you get over old turmoil, and the moment it’s gone, they show up. Your breath is sucked from your lungs, and you’re practically drowning on the spot even though you’re not even near water. Every single emotion in your being is trying to cram through your mouth, and you end up choking on it. Who knew it’d be today I die a death by Jack White. Guess I ran that risk when I entered his stomping grounds.

“Lee, I swear I didn’t know he’d be here. I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d known. I’m gonna buy you any record in the store, whatever you want. Oh god, how am I going to fix this? Guess I could do emergency distraction plan #6. Though id need a knife-” I subtly flicked the back of his arm to shut him up. His panicked ramblings were only making me more nervous. He was here, actually here. I guess I just thought I'd have a couple more years of peace.

He was staring so intensely at me, but not in anger or guilt. He was nervous. He was frozen and rigid. He was always so loose and eased into a room. Even when he was anxious, it never showed. As soon as I gained something from the absolute shock of it, all my body went against my brain. I felt my legs start to make their way over to him shakily, and there was no stopping them. Fuck I didn’t will this happen. Panic was bubbling up in my chest again. It didn’t help that he wasn’t reacting other than his eyes growing larger with each step I took. Finally, I reached him, and my arms tightly wrapped around him. This was better than the alternative that I thought would happen, which would end with a shiner and some bruised knuckles. He hadn’t grown length, but as I finally felt it all, I realized he'd grown into a man, out of his boyish figure from all those years ago. I sank into it, warm feelings bubbling up in my chest. I could finally breathe for a moment. He didn’t reciprocate my hug, but I met his eyes when I looked up at him, and all I could see was pure shock. I don’t think he would’ve moved if someone yelled fire.

He mumbled, “Why don’t we find somewhere a little more private to talk, Rosie.” I quickly nodded my head, and all that anxiety came back as soon as it was gone. I did not appreciate this little roller coaster I was on. He put his hand on my back to softly guide me to wherever we were going. It was a painfully silent walk as we weaved through Third Man. My brain kept flashing back to all the moments of our short end, mixing with all the good memories it made for a weird emotional cocktail. The more I thought about how little time we’d actually known each other, I got even more panicked. A year. That’s it, and I still acted like we were childhood friends who wronged each other. I shouldn’t be feeling all of this over a man who had such little time in my life. Still, that doesn’t change that he was at the forefront of my mind for all those years after. God, his hand was burning me where it lay.

I hadn’t realized we’d made it to the spot until his words broke my thoughts. “Welcome to the Third Man roof, my secret spot, if you will.” I looked up to see a couple of lawn chairs and a crate between them, acting as a makeshift table. Cigarette butts strewed around the chair farthest from the edge. Jack was already walking towards what I assumed to be his chair. In tow, I followed, pulling my pack out of my pocket and lighting a cig. If this was going to happen, I was going to need a goddamn cigarette. He grimaced at the sight of Marlboros, pulling out his pack. Red Camels, still the same all these years later. Somethings just don’t change. Guess that’s comforting.

“I thought you were a camels girl. What happened there?” He was already reaching for another to hand to me.

“Oh, just had to settle when on tour for whatever others had. It just stuck, I guess…” A lie. I put mine out on the ground when I sat down and grabbed the nostalgic camel out of his hand, our fingers barely touching.

We sat in silence, smoking a piece of our past. I sure as hell didn’t know where to start, and I don’t think he did either. My body took over just as it had before and did what I couldn’t manage. I was blurting out words before I knew what was happening.

I stumbled out, “I bought all your records over the years.” Smooth.

A small smile fell onto his face, and he took another drag. “I did the same thing.” He looked over at me, quickly looked me over, then took a quick drag and put it on on the ground. “Have a favorite?”

I pretended to think like I hadn’t thought of having a favorite. “I guess I’d have to say Consolers of the Lonely, but if we’re talking The Stripes, I’d have to say De Stijl. Though I always feel like I should say your first, since you know, I’m on it.” I sent a small smile his way and started to ease into my seat more. Not sitting up so straight, ready to bolt at any moment. “What about you, Jack? Hm? Have a Rosalie Wright favorite?”

He answered without hesitation, “Surrender. I really liked that sound you had in 2004, where you got dirty and loud. It was a big change from your old blues tone. Someone told me it was because you moved to New Jersey, which honestly makes sense.” He stopped for a second and looked off. “That band, Leathermouth. When that album dropped, I played it when I was working in the upholstery shop, and Karen walked in. She turned right around after hearing, I think... My love has gone flat? I don’t know, but she asked me if I was doing okay at dinner that night.” He quietly laughed to himself, thinking over the memory.

“Anyone who wasn’t in the band asks me the same thing! They all said, “Hey, your new albums great! How are you doing? You need someone to talk to?” My smile fell. “Too bad all the guys found god. Nothing against that, of course! Just sucks they had to quit the band. Not Frankie, though. He wouldn’t find god even if he came to him on a piece of toast. I’d probably take some freak case of Stigmata for him even to consider it… Why am I still talking?” I blushed, realizing I'd been rambling too long about nothing that probably interested him

Jack waved his hand in the air to dismiss my worries. “We’ve got years to catch up on, Rosie. Besides, I’ve missed your ramblings.” He lit two more cigs, handing one over to me. His stare lingered on me, and his eyes softened from his stoic face. “I really have missed you, Rosie… All these years and I’m still not quite sure what you’ve been up to. I’ve only heard things here and there from Ben.” He took a long drag. “Where have you been all this time?”

I took a deep breath in, knowing the answer wouldn’t be the best. I spent a fair amount of drinking myself into oblivion over something he caused, so I kept my answer brief, “Oh, you know, toured, drank, slept in fans and friends basements. You know, a typical musician’s life. Oh! Got put on the FBI watchlist over a Leathermouth song. That was a fun night for Frankie and me.”

He chuckled, put out his cig, and turned his body towards me. The same warm smile was adorning him. As I said, some things just don’t change. “I mean, I don’t know what you expected when you play a song with that title. It’s one of the only things you legally can’t say.”

“Punk is punk, Jack. Too bad I was only playing guitar. I would’ve loved to scream that.” I put my cig out and put all my attention towards him. I hadn’t thoroughly looked at him the whole time we were up there. “It was hard not to stay caught up with you, Jack. You were everywhere. I tried not to pry, though. I never trusted the press. Though I heard about the divorce last year… I’m sorry you had to go through that again.”

His smile faltered, and he stared down at his hands for a second. “It was inevitable. We were too different for it to last. I guess this shit always happens for a reason, huh? We just fell out of love, and that was that. I had a party to commemorate new friendships and everything. At least she can’t hide my Billie Holiday records now…” He trailed off on that last sentence. I could barely hear it, but I caught the small comment. He still thought about me. I didn’t mention it though. I could barely think back to the old memories. Me making him dance with me to Billie Holiday's self titled album. I guess I just wanted to feel like we were really together back then, creating that fantasy. I felt like I had to wave my imaginary hands around in my head to clear out the memories that had risen to the surface. He was making it so hard to have a clear head.

We stayed quiet for a moment. He seemed lost in his thoughts. We were always good at comfortable silences. I think we just liked being in each other’s presence, having that person next to you. It was weird to think that I only had these old images of him to think back to. He looked so different. He was built, his face filled out, his height would make him look skinnier than he was back then. He’s muscular, probably from years of touring with heavy equipment. He looked his age. His eyes hadn’t changed though. His face was almost menacing for how serious it naturally rested. His eyes stayed bright, excited for everything ahead of him. He always hid that, and he probably still does.

“I’m sorry, Rosie. For everything that happened. It was selfish of me to -” I cut him off. This was for another day. I don’t think I could handle drudging up the past tonight.

“Make it up to me some other time. I just want to enjoy you tonight.” I sent a smile his way and went to stand up. “Better make it good though.” I went to lean against the wall to take in the Nashville skyline I missed so much.

I heard the gravel crunch underneath his shoes as he made his way next to me. His lighter clicked, and the sweet smell of tobacco filled the air. Moments later, he appeared next to me, cigarette in hand, ready for me to take. He clicked his lighter on and offered it out for me to light. I leaned in close and took a heavy drag. My eyes caught his left hand, cupping around the flame. No ring. It really was done, no lingering feelings. I moved back to lean against the small wall, leaning my head against my hand. I tried not to focus on the emotions that stirred in me when I noticed the absent metal on his finger.

“I really did miss this. Detroit was beautiful, but it never could beat the Nashville skyline. Maybe I was just missing home.” I finally got to take in the scenery around us. September in Nashville has never really been cold. I feel like I should be worried about that, but if I can avoid a sweater, I will. It was a comfortable kind of warm. You could sit out on your porch and not think about a thing. The small breeze was nice, taking away from the constant humidity. Then there was that constant. It never felt like Nashville’s downtown ever changed from far away. It was just stuck in time. The deeper you go, the more you realize the magic of music city is being taken over by honky tonks and drunk bachelorettes. Though the farther you drift away, the more you can feel like you're in the good ole days of classic Nashville. Back when the Ernest Tubb Record Shop didn't have a constant flow of Lynyrd Skynyrd cover bands but had undiscovereds like Loretta. Now you just have to settle for the sights and the small music scene curated by The End.

“Is it bad I feel the same way? Even if it’s not home home, it still feels like it. I think the skyline reminded me of coming home after long tours. It’s always the first thing you see. It’s a comfort.”

We weren’t touching technically, but our shoulders were so close I could feel it. I think he was deliberately keeping his space. I should be mad or angry. Something. But the feeling of him next to me was just as calming as the views. That same feeling of home lulling you in. He always felt like that to me. That dumb warm feeling in your chest that makes heavier days just a little lighter. It’s a bit shameful that I feel it all now, just as strong as back then.

“You know the only reason I came tonight is because Ben told me you wouldn’t be here. Something about your kids,” I took a drag. “Not that I regret coming! I just- Kids. How fucking weird is that? Never pictured you with kids. I always saw you as the same lanky kid from before.”

He snorted and bumped my shoulder with his own. “You know I found it odd you never had any. I mean, you were always weirdly maternal with Ben back when he was a teenager. You about took my head off when I told you I gave him a couple of beers. Oh, and those times I practically had to rip Jasper out of your arms after we got home from one of our first tours.”

“He was 16! His brain wasn’t fully formed yet, plus your mom would’ve murdered you.” I gave his arm a small playful hit and took another drag. “And I just haven’t had the time. Or the means to. I mean, I dated like two guys? Both were shit bag roadies who lasted all of two weeks. I kissed Frankie once, but the moment it ended, we about threw up. He’s a different kind of family. His kids call me Auntie Lee if that says anything.”

The conversation ended at that, and we fell back into our silence. I looked over and saw a small, content smile on his face that I was so used to seeing. Some things just don’t change.

It feels weird sitting here with him. We both were so happy to see each other. We just wanted to enjoy this time. At least, I think he’s the same way. He seems guarded, it’s subtle, but that wall is there. He used to be like this, but for different reasons. Secret wife reasons. I can only assume that now it’s the fame he’s been showered with. You can't show all your feelings with recognition like that. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him checking his watch. He muttered out shit when seeing the time.

Exasperatingly he said, “Speaking of kids, I’ve got to get home. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I promised Scarlett I'd be home to say goodnight.”

My smile faltered a little, but my heart grew at the comment about scarlet. He’s always loved so hard. It was only natural that he would be a good father.

We both put out our cigs and silently made our way out to where his car parked. I just mindlessly followed along, definitely not thinking about him and how wonderful he probably was with his kids.

When we got there, we just kind of stood there. Neither of us knew how to say goodbye. It was never something we did.

“I’m really glad I got to see you tonight, Rosie. Seriously.”

My body betrayed me, just like it had in the recording room. I quickly moved forward and hugged him tightly, except this time, I could enjoy it a little more. His frame was so warm compared to the chilly September night. He finally wrapped his arms around me and practically threw himself into the embrace. He had no hesitation whatsoever. I nuzzled my face into his chest, a bit too shamelessly, but this was 14 years in the making.

When we finally (and hesitantly) pulled away, he asked, “ Listen, I don’t think I can just walk around town knowing you’re here and not see you. Can we get coffee or something? I don’t care what we do as long as it’s with you.”

I felt a giant smile fall onto my face. I was afraid this whole time we would just kind of say goodbye and not talk again. It was dumb to feel so happy over a small gesture, but it was just what I was looking for. He was infectious back then, and he is. Once you fall back into his circle, you never wanted to leave. “I’ll agree to coffee only if,” I gave him a playful poke in the side, “you help me fix my amp. I can usually do it, but I really did a number on her this time.” I held out my hand for him to shake. It’s not a deal if you don’t shake on it.

“It’s a date then.” A small smile appeared on his face, and he grabbed my hand to shake it.

“It’s a date.” We stood their just shaking hands and smiling at each other. We probably looked insane from far away, but who cares. Me and Jack were on the road to reasonable terms.

Tag list: @shamoane @elinyaes

#jack white #the white stripes #nosferatyou writes #if i can be so bold fic #if i can be so bold #the raconteurs #leathermouth #frank iero #UHV reference #can you tell that ive hyper fixated on frank as well #its obvious i know #gotta slide him into my works somehow #also they really got to cut down on the cigs #the bastards #also ben whats the distraction plan number 6 #im curious #and as i always say #bet Jack is a bottom #bet you like 5 bucks and the little clay mushroom house i made

15 notes · View notes

randomoranges · 4 years

Text

ok so i’ve had this idea for ages. it was og meant as a pre-amnesia/post-amnesia thing. you know the type. but, if you squint real hard it could just me some rando au where they meet when they’re in uni and grow old and happy together.

find yourself a weirdo if that’s your thing :)

Sushi for Two

Message from Étienne (Roommate)

Questions: 1. Do you like sushi? 2. Are you coming home tonight?

Edward is locked up in some study cubicle, nose deep in a myriad of textbooks, trying to get a head start on his never-ending pile of homework and assignments, when the message comes in. He thinks of ignoring it, but to be honest, he’s been on the same problem for the past thirty minutes, he’s been at it for the past three hours and he really should take a break. Therefore, he puts his mechanical pencil down and picks up his phone to see the message.

Message de Édouard Answers: 1. Yes? 2. Yes??

Étienne beams from his roost on the kitchen counter upon getting the answer. He keeps swinging his legs as he taps out an answer for his roommate and then steals another sushi piece from the half-empty plastic container on the counter beside him.

Message from Étienne (Roommate)

Excellent! I may or may not have ordered too much and figured I could share. However, if you want any, you better get home soon, or I might just finish it off by myself. (There really is a lot.) (Please save me from myself.) (Why the fuck is sushi so goddamn good?)

Edward can’t help but chuckle. His roommate is – odd at times, but he always means well. Étienne’s good for a laugh and to be honest, he likes hanging out with him.

His stomach growls at the idea of free food and he figures he might as well head home. He can get another hour or so done after supper. He ran out of snacks anyways.

Edward packs his bags and then heads out, letting the cold winter air wake him up some from the stuffy study cubicle he had been in.

Edward makes it home in less than thirty minutes and lets his bag fall to the ground before removing his boots, jacket, scarf, tuque, and mittens. Of course, there’s already jazz music playing and he’s not even surprised. He’s come to associate the music with Étienne and more often than not, Edward has come home to hear it playing from some speaker, be it the one from the living room, or from Étienne’s computer in his room. It’s even gotten to the point where Edward can recognise some tunes and he’s even asked for the name of at least two songs that he actually really enjoyed. (Étienne had looked ecstatic. He’d even let him borrow the album.) (Edward hadn’t had the heart to tell him that he hadn’t liked the other tracks on it.)

Étienne lowers the music once he sees him and waves him over to the prized container of sushi.

“Were you expecting people over?” Edward says when he sees the multiple plastic boxes of sushi littering the counter. There are at least five and two are empty, while a third one has a decent dent in it.

“I was really hungry and I just ordered all my favourites,” He sounds apologetic and half-guilty, like a child scolded trying to make their case for their actions. Edward laughs, amused by Étienne’s antics, and rolls his eyes. This must have cost a small fortune, but he supposes that’s not his problem.

“That’s the worst way to order food.” He admonishes gently.

“Do you want free sushi or not?”

Edward mimes zipping his mouth shut and Étienne nods, pleased, and then hands over a container and motions for Edward to join him on the counter.

Edward isn’t convinced by the idea and gives his roommate a questionable look, “You know we have perfectly good chairs and a very sturdy table. I’m sure it can hold your mountain of sushi.”

“Shut up, Murphy; this is the only way to eat take-out sushi.” There’s a teasing grin to Étienne’s retort and Edward rolls his eyes and hops up onto the counter. Étienne seems tremendously pleased and Edward figures there’s at least that.

“Lemme guess, you want me to eat with my hands like a heathen?”

Étienne scoffs and nudges the chopsticks out of Edward’s reach. Edward sighs, rolls his eyes, and then picks out a sushi piece, before popping it into his mouth. He likes the variety of textures and flavours, even if he has no idea what’s in it. It’s good, is what matters, and it hits the spot.

They eat this way for a while, tranquil, sitting on the kitchen counter, Étienne’s legs still swinging wildly, and Edward comes to agree with the fact that perhaps this is the best way to eat sushi after all.

“You know,” Edward starts to say when they start picking at another box, “I always liked to eat the leftover sushi on the day after. When it’s a little bit hard. Is that weird?” He says it softly, as if confessing to some deep, shameful secret, but Étienne gasps and looks excited by the shared secret.

“Me too! My sister said I was weird! I sometimes got extra just so I could have hard day old sushi!”

A laugh bubbles out of Edward’s chest that takes hold of Étienne and they both laugh at this shared absurdity.

“I once ordered sushi specifically to eat it the day after,” Edward ads.

“That’s brilliant! Why didn’t I ever think of that?!”

For as much as Étienne is a bit of an oddball, he’s also relatable to a fault at times and Edward has found a kindred spirit in him in the few months he’s been in the city.

“There’s a place back home that’s really good. Like – really, really good. I go there every time I go back home. If ever, for some absurd reason, you’re in town, I’ll take you to it.” He knows he sounds a little hesitant and shy, but the idea of someone like Étienne coming out west to Alberta for any reason whatsoever always sounds odd to him. Étienne seems as though he’d fit best in some bohemian city and not someplace like Edmonton. Still, he can’t help but imagine, if only for a moment, what it would be like to have his friend over, but he rids his mind of such thoughts before they get the best of him.

“Absolutely! You better! Plus you need to take me to your Butter Dish Palace and Talus Valley.”

Edward near chokes laughing and has to hold himself from falling off the counter, “Oh my God – it’s – it’s the Butterdome and the Talus Dome. Then there’s the River Valley. They’re just silly landmarks though... well – ok the River Valley is legit, but –”

Étienne cuts him off before he can go off, “Listen, you’ve shown me photos, you’ve mentioned them forty thousand times, I’ve brought you to the silly landmarks of this city – it’s only fair! I want to see these places with my own eyes! And then you can take me to sushi. It’s the way it’s gotta go, Murphy. I keep bringing you to bagels and other food.”

Edward wants to argue the point, but Étienne is right. In any event, he highly doubts Étienne will actually ever come out to visit him. Still – Étienne is an unpredictable fellow, he might just surprise him.

“All right, all right – hand over the other container now.”

Message de Eddy

Questions

1. Do you want sushi?

2. Do you plan on coming home at some point?

Étienne looks away from his easel when he hears his phone chime. He puts down his paintbrush and stretches, before walking over to the worktable where he’s abandoned his phone. It’s been one of those days where he’s locked himself up in the studio and lost all sense of time. He’s been working on a new painting of his – something for his latest series and figured he’d use the day to get a head start. He’s been at it for hours now and his stomach growls in hunger at the idea of sushi. He knows he could use a break. It feels as though his head has been swimming in turpentine, so maybe a change of air is good.

Message from Teddy <3

1. Always.

2. Only if you’re there as well <3

Edward grins to himself when he gets the message from his spot on the kitchen counter. He taps out an answer on his phone and tries to rein himself in from stealing yet another piece of sushi from the already open plastic container. He could eat the rest and pretend there weren’t as many containers, but he knows better.

Message de Eddy

Perfect. I may or may not have a large amount of sushi and I figured I could be nice and share, instead of stuffing my face in it, since you’ve been ignoring me for the past several days. Therefore, if you want any, you better get your butt here. Or I will finish these off by myself. You know I can. (Please, don’t let me do that again. It’s not worth it.)

Étienne laughs; his partner is a gift, honestly. Edward is always good for a laugh and always knows when and how to pull him out from his intense work periods when he somehow or other manages to neglect all basic needs such as food and sleep. It’s as if he has a sixth sense for these things.

Étienne rinses off his paintbrush and tidies up a bit. He figures he might as well take a break and call it a day. He can drive Edward crazy and work on some more coloured sketches instead, just to get a rise out of him.

He shuts the lights and then heads out, letting the change of light and air wake him up some from the smell of paint and turpentine he had been in. (Ventilation only went so far at times, even if it hadn’t been that bad and the patio doors had been open.)

Étienne makes it home in less than three minutes and lets himself fall to the bench by the door before removing his shoes and slipping on his slippers. Of course, there’s already jazz music playing and he’s not even surprised. Edward is a giant softy and likes to set up these things for him. He’s come to associate a nice night in with the playlist of jazz music Edward has collected over the years and more often than not, Étienne has been surprised by the rather large collection Edward has garnered with time. It’s even gotten to the point where sometimes, Edward will surprise him with news about a jazz band that he used to follow once upon a time, as if Edward has kept up with them over these long years. (There have been times when Edward has informed him about bands that he no longer cares about.) (Étienne hadn’t had the heart to tell him that he didn’t follow them anymore. Edward had looked ecstatic. Étienne didn’t want to ruin that.)

Edward hops off the kitchen counter and comes to greet him instead, before helping him over back to the counter.

“I didn’t know we were having people over,” Étienne says as he accepts a hand from Edward to get onto the counter. There are at least six containers of sushi and one has at least a piece missing from it.

“I just ordered our favourites and I figured you’d appreciate lunch tomorrow.” He doesn’t sound apologetic and neither does he sound guilty. Instead, he’s defiant, daring Étienne to call him out on his brilliant plan. Étienne rolls his eyes, amused, and fond by Edward’s antics. This must have cost a small fortune, but he supposes that’s not his problem.

He shakes his head for good measure and Edward gently shoves at his shoulder.

“Do you want free sushi or not?”

Étienne answers by reaching over for one of the containers and offers first pick to Edward as a peace offering. Edward nods, pleased, and takes a piece he’d been eyeing since the container had arrived. He then motions for Étienne to join him.

There are no chopsticks and there is no need for much conversation. There’s a perfectly good set of chairs and a very sturdy table they could use, but the kitchen counter makes it all the better, especially when they’re sitting at it. They’re tranquil, pleased in each other’s company and the whole setting helps enhance the flavours of the now very familiar sushi. It’s good, still, and it hits the spot.

Étienne still swings his legs out of habit and Edward stills it with his foot for a moment, before leaning in close. Étienne stops and lets him have the moment for the time being. Even after all these years, this is still the best way to eat sushi, in his humble opinion.

“You know,” Étienne starts to say when they start picking at another box, “Forget lunch; I’d rather have these for breakfast with you tomorrow morning.”

Edward looks at him for a moment and then grins, soft and pleased, “There’s just something about leftover sushi on the day after.” He adds. Étienne nods and steals the next piece, before Edward can get to it.

“Weirdo,” Étienne says, mouth full, grin wide.

“Your weirdo.” Edward corrects.

Étienne smiles at him, soft and sweet, and oh so very pleased. “My weirdo,” He agrees.

“We make a good pair of weirdoes.” Edward says after a lapsed moment of silence, once they’ve slowed down on the intake of sushi.

Étienne leans his head on his shoulder as an answer and they fall quiet once again in the knowledge of the statement. They remain seated on their kitchen counter, sushi boxes littering the place for a while longer, before they��ll get stacked away in the refrigerator, and then eaten the following morning at that strange but delicious consistency they both like. They’ll sit beside the Butterdome butter dish Edward had brought back from Edmonton that one winter and will remain hidden behind the refrigerator door filled with magnets of all the strange but wonderful landmarks of both Montréal, Edmonton and all the other wonderful and sometimes strange cities they’d visited over the years.

It doesn’t matter what Étienne’s sister thinks, but when they’ll next head over to Edmonton for a visit, Edward knows Étienne will find another magnet to add of his favourite “Talus Valley.” They’ll stop by Kyoto, the place Edward had mentioned ages ago, like they always do when they visit together, and they’ll order too much sushi, like they always do. They’ll say they need to try other places – Étienne will go so far as to find all the worst rated places they could go to, but in the end they’ll stick to their tried and tested. There’s just something comforting in the knowledge of familiarity that they’ve both come to love with time.

FIN

2 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 5 years

Text

Bones

A/N: I’ve always loved this idea of having a girlfriend before he joined the band and her standing by his side through all the crazy adventures. “Bones” by Maren Morris paired rather nicely with that idea. So here y’all go

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“Wait what?” you asked, your eyes going wide.

“We’re going to London to write songs! And if it works out we might even go on tour! Release a real album! Babe, we’re taking off! This is the big time!” Ashton told you again, excitedly.

“Oh…” you said, your face falling.

“Babe, c’mon! You could at least be a little excited…”

“I am. This is great, Ash. You guys are gonna be rockstars,” the words fell from your mouth, flat and dead. This wasn’t a conversation you were ready to have. You had been dating Ashton since right before he joined the band almost a year ago. You knew he and the boys were serious about taking the band as far as it could go. You knew they were getting noticed. You knew it was only a matter of time before this exact conversation was going to happen- the conversation where he leaves and you stay. You weren’t ready to say goodbye.

“Y/N…” Ashton said, almost begging you to be happy for him. He wasn’t ready for this conversation either, but he and the boys had been waiting for this moment for so long and it was finally here. And all he wanted was for you to be just as happy as he was.

“Ash… I don’t want to ruin this for you. But… what does this mean for us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I really like being at university, Ash. I like my classes. I like my teachers. I like my life here, Ash.”

“I know. And I’m not asking you to give that up. But, Y/N, I gotta go.”

“No, I know, just… where does that leave us, Ash?”

“Well, I don’t want to break up...”

“I don’t want to either! But London? This is gonna be really hard.”

He wrapped you in a hug. “I know, baby, I know. But, we’ll make this work?”

You nodded into him. You owed it both of yourselves to at least try. A year long relationship wasn’t something you just walked away from. “The house don’t fall when the bones are good,” you told him.

“What?” he giggled.

“It’s a saying my grandparents had,” you explained. “It’s basically saying that when the foundation of a relationship is built correctly, nothing can tear it down. Go chase your dreams. I’m on your side every step of the way.”

“The house don’t fall when the bones are good,” he smiled. The phrase was so simple, yet it made his heart soar. He had been afraid that he would have to choose between chasing his dreams and keeping the girl. He was glad you were willing to do this together, even though you both knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

~~~

Two days later, you hugged your boyfriend goodbye at the airport, tears in your eyes. “I love you,” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love you, too. I’ll let you know when we land. I’ll text all the time. I call every chance I get,” he spilled out promise after promise. “This is only the beginning, Y/N, you’ll see.”

“Just the beginning,” you smiled up at him. “I’ll miss you.”

“The house don’t fall when the bones are good,” he responded, kissing you one last time before he left for his adventure, leaving you behind to continue your own.

~~~

“Babe! We’re going on tour! With One Direction!” Ashton told you over Facetime a few months later.

“That’s great, Ash!” you congratulated.

“How are your classes going?”

“Ash,” you laughed, “you can’t just drop a bomb that you’re touring with One Direction and then ask me something mundane about university.”

“But you hear about my adventure all the time. I wanna hear about your adventure.”

You smiled. God, this boy was such a sweetheart. “Okay,” you said before catching him up on what you had been learning in all your classes.

After you ended your call, you checked your social media and saw a post Ashton had made. It was screenshot from his phone of his Facetime with you captioned “10,000 miles can’t change how crazy I am about this girl. #thehousedontfallwhenthebonesaregood”

~~~

“Ash!” you screamed, crashing into his body at full speed. It had been a long year, but finally, you were back in his arms. “You’re home!”

“God, I’ve missed you!” he said, wrapping his arms tight around you, wishing for time to stop.

“You stopped straightening your hair,” you smiled up at him, his curls free from the bondage of a straightener, but held back by a bandana. It was different, but it suited him.

“How long?” you asked, needing to know.

“Y/N, can we not do this now? I just want to enjoy my time with you.”

“I know, and I’m not trying to ruin this moment or fight with you. But, I need to know.”

“We’re touring again in 2 weeks. But just here, just in Australia. Bones still good?”

You nodded, “Always, Ash. God, I’m glad you’re home.”

~~~

“So, the band’s moving to LA...” Ashton started.

“Oh?” you asked. You had graduated university early. You had a job, but it was nothing serious. You had been waiting to hear about Ashton’s plans with the band, to see what next steps you would take yourself. LA sounded like as good a place as anywhere else to settle. Only, Ashton wasn’t asking you to come along.

“Yeah. We’re uh… well, we all got keys to our new places already. We don’t move until the first of next month though. So, we still got a few weeks.”

“We” was referring to you and him. So, he wasn’t asking you to move with him. He was just going to up and leave. Again.

“No,” you said, firmly, your anger making tears well up in your eyes. “No. No!”

“Baby, please…” Ashton begged, not wanting to fight with you.

“LA, Ashton?! As in California?! Moving?! NO!!!”

“Y/N, please don’t do this!”

“I’m not doing anything, Ashton! You’re the one who’s leaving! You’re always the one leaving and I’m always the one getting left behind! And now you’re moving?! To LA?!” You sat on the bed in your little apartment and wept. All you wanted for him to ask you to go with him. Why wasn’t that his first reaction?

“Y/N…” Ashton begged again, his own voice a choked sob.

“Every fuckin album!” you screamed suddenly, getting up and going to your bookshelf. You grabbed the CDs and started hurling them at Ashton. “I bought every fuckin album! Every time you leave, I listen to every goddamn song wondering which ones are about me! Every phone call I hear your voice become less Australian! I go to every show and rehearsal when you’re here so I can spend as much time as I can with you! I read every fuckin tabloid, scared shitless you found someone better like the other boys!” You paced the room as you ranted. “God, Ashton! I’m so happy for you and the band. Really, I am. I mean it with all my heart. But it doesn’t mean my heart isn’t also breaking every time we have to say goodbye.” You sat back on your bed feeling so exhausted. Why wasn’t he asking you to go with him?

“Y/N… baby, there will never be anybody else. Every song where Luke sings about the girl he misses and how he wants to be with her, that’s me singing about you. She Looks So Perfect? You, baby. That’s all you.”

“So, where’s my plane ticket and shiny diamond ring?” you half-joked, needing him to ask you so you could say yes; so he couldn’t leave you behind again.

“Wait, you’ll go to LA with me?” he asked, getting hopeful.

“Are you asking me?”

“Y/N… seriously. Would you move to LA with me if I asked.”

“Ask me and find out.”

“Move to LA with me, Y/N? Please, baby?”

“God, it took you long enough!”

“Wait, that’s why you were mad?!”

“Yes! God, Ash. You told me you were moving to LA and didn’t even ask if I wanted to come with you. Of course I got mad!”

“You,” he said, his hazel eyes shining, “are absolutely ridiculous! When I went to London, I was going to ask, but you said your life was here! How am I supposed to know that’s changed?”

“You just are, okay? You just are.”

He wrapped you in a hug. “I want you to know that I’m still mad you expect me to be able to read your mind, But, God, I’m so happy right now! We’re moving to LA!”

~~~

“Jeez, they act like you guys broke up,” you snickered over your morning coffee with Ashton.

“What?” he asked. You looked up at him and smiled. He looked so different now, so grown up. The blonde fringe, the long curls, even the bandana had faded over time. In their place had come his now short brown hair and too many tattoos to count. You were proud of him and his growth, both individually and as a band. And you were so grateful to have been by his side through it all. Even though some days, hell years even, had been hard, you’d go through it all again with him if it meant you had mornings just like this.

You passed your phone over to him so he could see the story you were reading. They had announced last week that they were releasing a new song soon, and the fans were acting like it was a reunion release. He rolled his eyes, passing you back your phone. “God, we were touring so long I felt most at home on a damn bus. So, now that we’re home for longer than a month to actually live a halfway normal life, they act like we’re reuniting? Fuckin hell…” he ranted.

“It’s alright, Ash,” you soothed. “It’s not like you guys haven’t been working. I mean, you guys are almost done with the album, yeah?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I need to talk to you about that, actually.”

“Oh?”

Another nod. “Yeah, after we release our single they want us to do a promotional tour. During which we’ll release the album, and then set up tour dates for that.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Promotional tour is March to June. Then the real tour is August to November. So… what are you doing today? Or for the rest of your life, for that matter?” he asked, sliding a small box over the table to you. His smirk was wide as he watched you open the box to reveal the ring inside. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long time now, and with the impending tour dates, now seemed as good as any other time to finally ask the question.

“Is this… Are you…” you stumbled over the words, tears filling your eyes.

He nodded. “Yep. Let’s go get married. Make this Valentine’s Day something really special.”

Your eyes went wide. “You want to get married now?! Like right now? Today?!”

He shrugged. “Why not? Look, gorgeous, you’ve been by my side through it all. Through every success and struggle, you’re the one thing that’s remained the same. I never want to stop building this life with you. So, what do you say? Be my wife? Continue making me the happiest man alive?”

You smiled. He was right. You two had weathered every storm thrown your way and made it out the other side stronger than ever. While things hadn’t always gone the way you both planned them, this life you guys had built was built right. Nothing could ever make you not love the man across from you with everything you had. And that ring looked damn good on your finger. “I say that the house don’t fall when the bones are good. Let’s go make me a Mrs!”

#bones #ashton irwin #ashton blurb #5SOS #galcal irwin

49 notes · View notes

johannesviii · 5 years

Text

Top 12 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2013

The best year in a trio of awesome years for hits. So awesome, in fact, I had to leave several excellent songs out of the list, even with two additional slots, and limit the list to songs I actually put on my mp3 player at one point or another.

What’s that? People usually call it a bad year? Well screw them.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

The year I stopped working in Paris, found a job closer to home that finally made me feel helpful in the grand scheme of things, and I finally had more free time. Goodbye daily trains. I also went to some concerts! This never happened before.

2013: also the year when just about every band and artist I liked decided to make a good album. Except Depeche Mode. Depeche Mode made Delta Machine. It wasn’t great. But, uh, let’s see, Placebo made Loud Like Love (with the fantastic A Million Little Pieces), VNV Nation made Transnational, Daft Punk made Random Access Memories... Nine Inch Nails came back with Hesitation Marks, which is pretty great with a couple of fantastic songs. Lady Gaga made the vastly underrated ArtPop! Even Eminem made a pretty decent album! Eminem! In the year of our lord 2013! And The 1975 made their debut album. They would eventually become one of my favorite bands of the 2010s, but not yet, though. And Indochine redeemed themselves by releasing Black City Parade, their absolute best album of the decade.

However, despite Indochine��s excellent effort and the return of Nine Inch Nails, the album of the year, at least to me, was Kveikur by Sigur Rós. At that point, I had been following their stuff for ten years, and this album still blew my goddamn mind. It’s so heavy and dark and so different from what they had been doing since Agaetis Byrjun. It’s loud and textured and industrial and yet, there’s so much light above the dark. They out-NIN’ed Nine Inch Nails. There isn’t a single track I don’t love on this album. It’s their best one in my humble opinion.

As far as unelligible songs go, boy, where do I start. Uh. Copy of A and Came Back Haunted (Nine Inch Nails), certainly, A Million Little Pieces (Placebo) as I already mentioned, Memoria and College Boy (Indochine - I’m actually shocked they aren’t on the French top 100), Chocolate by The 1975, and most infuriating of all, Castle of Glass by Linkin Park, which is imho their best song of the 2010s. Oh well.

But there’s still a shit ton of stuff which was elligible but didn’t make the list. Here’s a lot of honorable mentions. There were like ten more of them initially, mind you.

Sirens Call (Cats On Trees) - You know how in just about every top ten post I’ve made so far, there’s a song where I’m like “if I had better taste this would be higher”? This is this song for 2013.

Don’t You Worry Child (Swedish House Mafia) - Catchy but borderline annoying. Still very good.

Counting Stars (One Republic) - This is so happy and catchy. More songs like this nowadays, please.

I Cry (Flo Rida) - Still elligible. Still great. Still not on the list.

Ho Hey (The Lumineers) - Same thing here, sadly.

Animals (Martin Garrix) - I called Bangarang from the previous list a perfect stim song, and this is in the same ballpark. Not as good, but great shapes and colors all around.

Berserk (Eminem) - That song has a lot of really bad lines, but also a lot of much needed energy, it’s a ton of fun, and I love the “say f█ck it before you kick the bucket” part of the chorus. I was so glad to hear Eminem having fun again. Would certainly have made the list in a more mediocre year. Not the most infuriating thing I had to leave out of the list, though.

Radioactive (Imagine Dragons) - THIS IS IT THE APOCALYPSE OH WOHO no I don’t have anything intelligent to say, it’s just great.

Best Song Ever (One Direction) - This is my favorite song from that band. It might be because it sounds suspiciously like Baba O’Riley. If you think I’m gonna complain about people ripping off good songs, please check my entry about I Gotta Feeling by The Black Eyed Peas a few top 10s before this one.

Wait. Waiiit. What if the “best song ever” they can’t remember in the lyrics WAS Baba O’Riley?? Wouldn’t that be the best meta song ever? What do you think? I mean, that one could indeed claim the title of best song ever.

Get Lucky (Daft Punk) - I know. I know. But I couldn’t put it on the list. It’s not my favorite song from the album, it was overplayed, and even if it’s extremely good it stays roughly at the same level for the entirety of the song. I love it, but I had to draw the line somewhere and cut the list. I didn’t want to make another top 15.

Carry On (fun.) - This was the last cut from the list. It was a really painful one. Not my favorite song from them, but still very, very good.

There’s been lists where I had to put filler. If I had to put actual grades to them, some songs I put on some lists would get a 6/10 or even a 5/10 for really bad years (looking at you 1990). Sometimes, I had to put stuff I’d grade 7/10 as high as #3.

If I had to grade this 2013 list according to my personal taste in music, #12 would get an 8/10, #11 would get a 9/10, and everything in the top ten would either be a 9,5 or a 10. No joke. That’s how good that year was for hits.

Let’s go.

12 - My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light’Em Up) (Fall Out Boy)

US: #40 / FR: Not on the list

There you have it. Three songs from a band I consider pretentious asshats ended on my lists. Including this one, in a year where I decided to severely limit my options for songs. And at the time? I thought it was just an okay song, way too slow but okay. Not great. At all.

It took it about three whole years to grow on me, and it also took me a while to actually know what it was about, and as I said previously, framing is everything ; knowing this song basically said “we’re back, and we’ve changed, and you’re not gonna like it so you’re gonna feel betrayed and you’re gonna burn your old posters, and in the end you’re also gonna betray us” makes it a lot, lot better. I especially love the “Burn everything you love then burn the. ashes” line with the weird pause for emphasis.

It just goes stomp, stomp, stomp. It’s heavy. You can’t dance to it. You can’t even have fun while listening to it. But you can certainly stomp along, and feel angry, and, yes, betrayed, and three years after 2013, I certainly needed that kind of song. A lot. You know exactly why.

11 - Burn (Ellie Goulding)

US: Not on the list / FR: #54

I discovered Doctor Who at the very, very end of 2013, and for some reason I associate this song with Martha’s journey during the year that never was at the end of S3, trying to convince the entire Earth to fight back against the Master. That’s all I have to say about this song. It’s great.

10 - Instant Crush (Daft Punk ft Julian Casablancas)

US: Not on the list / FR: #26

So yep, Get Lucky isn’t my favorite song on Random Access Memories, and thank you French charts for allowing me to put this one on the list instead.

Like a ton of people, I couldn’t figure out what the chorus was, apart from a couple of isolated words, and that felt exactly like being 10 and trying to decipher songs with my limited English. And then I checked the lyrics, and they were mostly variations on “I don’t want to be alone” and they rhyme “go” with “go”, so, uh, nothing of value was lost that day. And it still sounds fantastic.

9 - Applause (Lady Gaga)

US: #37 / FR: #66

Yes, there’s some really stupid shit in the lyrics and the theme of the song itself isn’t particularly inspiring, but that chorus is a happy burst of fuzzy bright angular shapes, and it’s so energetic it feels like you could phase through walls by sheer force of will while listening to it. It would be even higher if the lyrics were better, I swear.

8 - Papaoutai (Stromae)

US: Not on the list / FR: #4

And the boss of cleverly written hit songs strikes again. Pretty sure that one, like Alors On Danse, is well known even if you don’t speak French. As I understand it, apparently French teachers like to use it in class. But yeah, just in case: it’s a song about his absent father. My favorite part:

Un jour ou l'autre on sera tous papas (One day or another we’ll be dads) Et d'un jour à l'autre, on aura disparu (And one day or the next, we’ll be gone) Serons-nous détestables? (Will we be despicable?) Serons-nous admirables? (Will we be admirable?) Des géniteurs ou des génies (Parents or geniuses) Dites-nous qui donne naissance aux irresponsables? (Tell us who birthes irresponsible people?) Ah, dites-nous qui, tiens (Ah, tell us who ; weird) Tout le monde sait comment on fait des bébés (Everybody knows how to make babies) Mais personne ne sait comment on fait des papas (But nobody knows how to make dads)

And it’s also horribly catchy. And it was kind of a meme here. It was everywhere. I’m surprised it wasn’t even higher than that on the French year end top 100.

7 - Underwater (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #70

Why do I love this song so much even though I usually hate songs like that. This is the kind of romantic bullshit Robbie Williams does, and for the record I absolutely hate Angels, and Underwater even sounds a bit like Angels, and it also has the same kind of corny central metaphor. So. Why do I love Underwater again? How can I justify this? I’ve got no clue.

We don’t deserve Mika.

6 - I Need Your Love (Calvin Harris ft Ellie Goulding)

US: #56 / FR: #51

By now you must all be extremely tired of reading me describing songs in visual ways but this song is the sound equivalent of some sort of light show mixed with Dance Dance Revolution patterns. It’s incredibly kinetic and full of joyful, glittering energy, and I love it so goddamn much.

As a 90s kid who loved eurodance, I’m incredibly grateful this kind of music still exists and is still charting.

5 - Treasure (Bruno Mars)

US: #30 / FR: #23

Speaking of nostalgia. Well, not really, since I wasn’t born in the era this is trying to mimic, but still. I don’t have anything to say about this, apart maybe from the fact this is the song that finally made me like Bruno Mars.

4 - Hey Brother (Avicii)

US: Not on the list / FR: #18

I already mentioned how much I loved Avicii’s music when I briefly talked about Levels, and Hey Brother is even better. As you might know I have a little brother and as it is often the case with siblings we fought a bit but we also shared a lot of things, and games, and weird private jokes, and yeah that song can occasionally make me cry a fair bit if I’m being honest.

Also, it’s kind of my main theme song for Charley and C’rizz, so, yeah, it’s just another layer of Feelings(tm).

3 - I Will Wait (Mumford & Sons)

US: #52 / FR: Not on the list

As you might have noticed, there’s one genre that is conspicuously absent from my lists as far as the US hit songs are concerned, and that’s country. I’ve got nothing against country music, I just rarely find it visually interesting. Now I do like folk rock on the other hand, but its big era is long gone, and it’s quite rare to hear anything from it in the charts nowadays. I liked Ho Hey by the Lumineers, but I always thought it was a little bit too slow.

And then I found Babel by Mumford & Sons at the library, gave it a try, loved it, felt like discovering a modern band version of Bob Dylan with simpler lyrics, and this isn’t my favorite song on the album and it’s still at #3 on this list. Quality, man, just quality.

My favorite song from the album is Lover of the Light, by the way.

2 - Can’t Hold Us (Macklemore & Ryan Lewis)

US: #5 / FR: #8

Sometimes you need angry fight songs, sometimes you need energetic fight songs, and sometimes you need happy fight songs. And when something combines the last two, it’s like you caught a star in a Mario game and you’re f█cking unstoppable.

If Macklemore doesn’t get more hit songs at some point in the near future I’m gonna punch a wall.

1 - Roadgame (Kavinsky)

US: Not on the list / FR: #44

This song has no music video. It was still an enormous hit.

As you may recall, I already said once or twice that I liked to hang out at the disc store after class while I was in highschool and uni, and it still happened regularly after I started to work. Even nowadays, if I had a really, really bad day, there’s a good chance I’ll go there and spend at least an hour there just listening to stuff.

So here I was, one fine (actually bad) day, and this song was playing, and I was mesmerised, and for the first time ever, I felt the need to find a vendor and ask what was playing. I found one and the guy instantly beamed and went “oooooh I picked that album to play it in the store today! :D That’s Kavinsky, he’s great, here, have a listen” but it was already getting late so... I trusted him and basically bought the album blind.

Best decision ever. On top of being one of the best albums of the 2010s, OutRun is a concept album presented as if it was the soundtrack of a movie that never existed, about a young guy getting killed in a car crash in 1986 and somehow fusing with his car mentally and reappearing as some sort of technological zombie in 2006. And Roadgame is one of the best songs on the album if not the best. Well, my favorite song on it is actually Testarossa Autodrive, but you get my point.

I was like “there’s no way this is going to be big”, and I was dead wrong, thankfully. As a big fan of electronic music full of lights and flashes and colors but with dark overtones, I couldn’t be happier about this being one of the sounds of the year. Just fantastic stuff.

It’s 2020, man. Please drop that second album. We’re ready to have our minds blown all over again. Just do it.

Also, thank you random vendor from the disc store.

Next up: I have no idea why some people call 2014 a really bad year for hit songs tbh

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #eye contact tw

19 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #248

“i was unprepared for fame, then everybody knew my name.”

Are you more positive or a debbie downer? I don't think I'm either, honestly. I'm realistic. How many meals do you eat a day? Since getting a calorie & macro counting app, I try to aim for three, but sometimes I only manage two. I have to be conscious of how I'm spacing out what I eat. If you could have any talent in the world what would it be? Be realistic. Draw exactly what I see in my head. Do you brush your tongue with your tooth brush? Bitch you better brush your goddamn tongue. I didn't know until I saw this as a survey question a while back that there were people who didn't. How many times do you brush your teeth a day honestly? Once. What are you favorite type of jeans? I don't wear jeans anymore, but aesthetically, dark, skinny, torn jeans. Do you pop your bones, crack your knuckles? NO it disgusts me omg. There's this girl who sits in front of me in Women Writers class who cracks her back ALL the time and I have to fight cringing so, so hard. Do you eat your nails? YO NO. I may peel my nails when they get long (to me, anyway) but who the fuck eats their nails. Do you eat the ice in your drink? If it's that good cronchy type, fuck yeah. What do you order at Chic-Fil-A? I used to just get the classic sandwich and fries, but I stopped going there forever ago due to their connection to anti-LGBTQ organizations. By now I can't even stomach the thought of eating something from there. Damn are their sandwiches good, but I'm not giving them business. If you had to go to Mcdonalds what do you order? "Had to" lmao. I have no problem with McDonald's, honestly; you couldn't make me go, because I'd be quite willing. I love their cheeseburgers and, of course, their fries. But because I'm a fatass I have to at least get a double cheeseburger. Have you ever been addicted to cigarettes? No. Which do you use more? Facebook or Instagram? Facebook. Are you a student? If so, what classes will you take next? Yes. "Next," I don't know, considering I haven't chosen classes for next year. Currently I take Painting, Women Writers, Psychology, and Biology. Are you a good kisser? I don't know? How many real bf/gf have you had? Two. Did you enjoy your past relationships? Sure, save for the one with Tyler. That was pointless as shit. Would you ever get back with your ex? Sara, if certain conditions were right. Jason, I honestly don't know and hope I'm never put into the position to need to decide. Other exes, no. Do you like 80’s music? Rock and metal, absolutely. It was a great decade for the genres. Name a comedy that you like. Rush Hour 2 popped to mind first because we mentioned it in school yesterday. Do you like homework? ??????????? WHAT IS THIS QUESTION???????????????? NO??????????????? Something you want to buy real bad? Ugggghhhhh a lot. Being unemployed is a BLAST!!!!!!!!!! Something you would buy a friend as a gift? It depends on the person, of course. I try really hard to give very personal gifts, so what it would be would greatly vary. What is something that would be a good birthday gift for you? Donate Big Bucks to my tattoo fund and I'll give you smooches. Something you would gift yourself? Still tattoos lmfao. Favorite candle scent? Cinnamon rolls mmmmmmmmm. Do you watch beauty videos on YouTube? So here's the tea I genuinely love Jeffree Star and I'm digging NikkieTutorials lately LOOK idk I guess because I find makeup to be an art, I like watching that stuff. My YouTube interests have become seriously diverse lately. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Ha ha obviously. What is the best thing about life? Man, that's a loaded question. I suppose having people in it that make it worthwhile and a true privilege to simply be here. What do you think will happen when you die? YO, HONESTLY, I don't know, man. I've even questioned reincarnation lately. I 100% believe we are not hollow bodies meant to just decay after death, but creatures with spirits that live on in SOME form or way afterwards. I don't believe in the concept of a "Hell," but I don't really think I accept there being a true "Heaven," either? I think there's just... something. What, I don't know, but guess I'll figure it out at some point. Are you superstitious? No. What kind of surveys do you like the most? Random ones, especially the ones that make you think. Do you go to church? No. Do you like Christian music? No. I get frustrated from just bad memories/associations. Have you ever skateboarded and failed at it? Never really tried. What show/concert have you went to that you didn’t like much? N/A Is sex a must in your life? Nah. Could you wait until marriage for sex? Lol I was the abstinent one years ago, so obviously I could, because I understand it. What do you think about weed? Medically, it's fantastic. Too much evidence of it being so to argue it anymore. For other use, I feel the same way about it as I do cigarettes: bad idea, but whatever. I personally don't care if it's made legal for recreational use or not, so long as it's treated similarly to alcohol, ex. illegal to drive while high. If you found a baby turtle on the side of the road, would you pick it up and keep it? With it being a baby, I'd probably take it to an animal rescue or something. Did you and your mum ever have a big fight that caused you to move out? I stayed at Dad's for a handful of days. Has the last person you kissed ever been to your house? Yes. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? My sister has my initial, anyway. Who did you last see shirtless? My mom. Do you like to make the first move? NONONONONO I'M SHY. Do you think you will ever be married? Probably. If the last person you kissed saw you kissing someone else, would they be mad? I don't think she'd be mad, no. Do you understand football? Nope. Who last called you beautiful? Probably Mom. If you fell pregnant to the last person you kissed, what would you think? We're both female so like- Do you think the body is the most beautiful thing that was ever made? No. Name five things you did today? Stayed at the hospital for my beautiful niece to be born :'), slept far too little after getting home, and that's... kinda it. What kind of phone do you have? It's literally a Tracfone, BUT WAIT! I actually wanted it, ha ha. Mom has one and it is *genuinely* a good phone, so I got one for my birthday. Hell, it's cheaper than paying monthly, so I'm fine with it. When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings? 5 in the morning when we were all still with Ashley. Do you like fire? Sure, I like watching it. Have you ever been to a spa? Noooo, not my jam. Do you know how to do a cartwheel? No. Who’s the funniest drunk person you know? Ehhhhh. When he drank, my dad was either hilarious when drunk or hateful and short-fused as fuck. 50/50 shot. But yeah, if you got Version 1, he'd crack anyone the hell up. Now that he's sober and happy he's always like that. What would you do if your partner still kept pictures of their ex? Well, I'd say it depends on the picture's context. Like, a picture of you two kissing, then I'd be uncomfortable as shit. If you have prom pictures or stuff like that but don't like go looking through them regularly, idc. It was a special event. What if your partner went through your cellphone? BYE, CUNT. What if your partner was flirting with another girl/boy? BYE, CUNT. Is there really a difference between Coke and Pepsi? YES. I can absolutely taste it. Pepsi sucks. Are there any mistakes with your recent ex you wish you could have changed? Stupid and/or impulsive shit I'd said, sure, but for the most part, no. We had a good relationship. Has anyone ever been with you while you were throwing up? My mom always is if she's present. I am terrified of vomiting and even at my age still want her there, even though she can't do anything, obviously. I turn into a baby when I'm about to throw up. Background on your computer? My favorite picture of Teddy. Who has hurt you the most? Jason. Or hell, my own head, idk. Are you happy with where you are relationship-wise now? Sure. What language do you want to learn? I wanna be fluent in German. Who’s the last person that came to your house? A family friend. Is there anyone you would like to fight? God no. I'm not a fighter. Who did you dance with last? Sara. Who is your best friend(s)? Sara. Song playing? "It's A Raid" by Ozzy feat. Post Malone. The album's out T O D A Y , B O Y S. Who is your arch-enemy? I don't have one. What's the most attractive thing on the opposite sex? GODDAMN shoulderBLADES Do you want platinum or gold for your wedding band? Not normal gold, I know. Rose gold is my ideal one, but I really don't care much. Have you ever paid to have your eyebrows waxed? I mean my mom has, seeing as I didn't have an income then, either. Got that done regularly in high school. Not because I asked, but because it was just "normal" since my two sisters did it, too. Do you think that the tobacco companies should pay for people’s medical bills? No, it's not their choice to use the product. Sure, they're making it, but it's really too late to cease production of tobacco. It'd be catastrophic in terms of the job industry. Do you curse in average conversations? Yes; I have to actually make an effort to not curse if needed. Have you ever bought a shot glass? No. Do you have a therapist? Not anymore after my previous one that I loved and trusted gave me every reason to break her jaw. I kind of want another one, but also don't. I'm supposed to, considering my history and that I'm on a lot of medication, but I just do nooooot want to go through the whole trust process again. Do you ever fall for spam mail? No. What color do you wear the most? Black. Do you only eat cough drops because you like the taste? No. Have your parents ever walked in on you having sex? No. Do you like getting stoned? I've never been so and aren't interested in ever getting there. Have you ever gotten a bloody nose from snorting cocaine? YOIKES THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY lol no, I wouldn't touch coke with a ten-foot pole. Red, white, yellow, or pink roses? Pink. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. She hasn't called me anything too awful that I know of. Have you ever done acid? No. Were you at a rave? Never been, definitely not my scene. Do you post pictures where you look good but your friends look bad? Well, I don't hang out with like... anyone, so, lmao. But I wouldn't. Are you friends with any of your exes? Yes. Would you ever dye your hair pink? ACTUALLY! Pastel pink is on my list. I tested some soft colors out in Photoshop on me and it actually looked really cute. I think I wanna be a smaller size first, though. Do you ever masturbate? I haven't since I came off that godawful birth control that drove me batshit insane in terms of libido. I still don't think it's a bad thing, my interest in that is just, gone. Are you embarrassed about your sex life or lack there of? No. Who’s the last person you said I love you to? My sister. Did you like your life when you were in middle school? Actually fuck middle school with a maul. If you went on American Idol, do you think you’d go through to Hollywood? Nope. Have you ever received an anonymous gift? No, I don't think so. What kind of laugh do you have? A loud and obnoxious one. Do you hoard anything? "Hoard" isn't the right word, no. Are you afraid of flying? I am, but I feel it's only a realistic apprehension. Especially going back and forth to Sara's a few times, you kinda have to get used to it. Most recent Facebook ‘like’? Shit man idk, I "like" a load of stuff. Have you ever camped out somewhere for an event the next day? No. Do you do anything regularly that could damage your body? Can someone please eliminate soda from the face of the earth???? What do you love most in the world? Those closest to me. What woke you up this morning? Ugh, the sun. I need to put my curtain back up after Roman tore it down. Who was the last person you rode in a car with? My mom. Is anything bothering you? There's always *something* bothering me to some degree, but nothing seriously at the moment. Are you in a good mood? My niece was born overnight and is gorgeous and healthy so I have to be. :') When were you the saddest in your life? 2016. Do you own more than one cell phone? Ha ha, I have two old ones. One I used for pictures because the camera was good, and the most recent old one, I just need to get some pictures and contacts from... but I'm lazy. Have you ever had a song written about you? No. What songs make you happy? Depends on what I'm feeling. Next concert? No clue now that Ozzy had to cancel his, bless his old heart. As a child, did you ever get the chance to go to Disney World/Disneyland? Yes. When was the last time you fought with your significant other, if any? I’m single. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? No, thankfully. When was the last time you were on a boat? Where did you travel on it? Not since I went fishing with my old best friend a few years back. We were just in a pond. Are you planning on going anywhere with someone, some time today? Probably not. Do you like cereal? What would you consider your favorite kind of cereal? Hell yeah. Cinnamon Toast Crunch is *maybe* my favorite? Idk, I like a lot. Are there any people you don’t like for your significant other/crush to talk to? This doesn't apply to me, but even if I had one, they're not my damn child. I'm not gonna police whom they talk to. I mean I guess there are exceptions, like, talking to a drug dealer to name one, but talking to most people, that's their business. Just don't hide it from me. Have you ever forgotten your birthday? Did you soon figure it out? No. What color are the curtains in your room if you have any at the moment? Maroon. Is there anyone you are currently trying to get out of trouble? Why? No. Have you ever wanted your significant other to get rid of a friend? Well, calling back to that other question, there was one in a previous relationship that I really couldn't stand, but it wound up working out. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? It's just me and Ma now. Do you ever go to Blockbuster? How frequently would you say you go? WHAT A CALLBACK!!!!! Omg did I love BB. Went like every weekend to rent a game, and sometimes we'd go there Fridays before a sleepover to grab a movie. Do you ever listen to music so you can actually change your emotion? Sure, sometimes.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

4 notes · View notes

daggerzine · 5 years

Text

Lots of lists! DAGGER’s favorites of 2019 (and more lists to come)

TIM’S LISTS

MY 20 FAVORITE RECORDS OF 2019 (in no particular order)

Jeanines- S/t (Slumberland)

Purple Mountains- S/T (Drag City)

Monnone Alone- Summer of the Mosquito (Lost & Lonesome)

Mick Trouble – Here’s the Mick Trouble LP (Emotional Response)

Pernice Brothers- Spread the Feeling (Ashmont)

The Resonars- No Exit (Trouble in Mind)

Rocket 808- S/T (12XU)

Thigh Master- Now For Example (Goner)

Seablite- Grass Stains and Novacaine (Emotional Response)

Ex Hex- It’s Real (Merge)

Versus – Ex Voto (Ernest Jenning Record Co)

Nots- 3 (Goner)

Rocketship- Thanks To You (Darla)

Dream Syndicate- These Times (Anti)

The Paranoid Style – A Goddamn Impossible Way of Life (Bar None)

Business of Dreams- Ripe for Anarchy (Slumberland)

The Safes- Winning Combination (Bickerton Records)

The Gotobeds- Debt Begins at 30 (Sub Pop)

The Black Watch- Magic Johnson (ATOM Records)

Comet Gain- Fireraisers Forever! (Tapete)

WAIT! HERE’S 20 MORE!

Vivian Girls- Memory (Polyvinyl)

Bob Mould- Sunshine Rock (Merge)

Modern Nature- How To Live (Bella Union)

Robert Forster- Inferno (Tapete’)

David Kilgour- Bobbie’s a Girl (Merge)

Piroshka- Brickbat (Bella Union)

The Armoires- Zibaldone (Big Stir Records)

Dark Blue- Victory is Rated (12XU)

The Persian Leaps- Electrical Living (Land Ski Records)

Sasha Bell- Love Is Alright (Both Sides Now)

Frankie Cosmos- Close It Quietly (Sub Pop)

USA/Mexico- Matamoros (12XU)

Moving Targets- Wires (Boss Tuneage)

Red Sleeping Beauty- Stockholm (Matinee)

Redd Kross- Beyond the Door (Merge)

The Treasures of Mexico- Everything Sparks Joy (Shelflife)

In Deed- Everest (Big Stir Records)

The Catenary Wires- Til the Morning (Tapete)

Foxhall Stacks- The Coming Collapse (Snappy Little Numbers)

The Vandoliers- Forever (Bloodshot)

WAIT!! EVEN 20 MORE…

Tiny Ruins- Olympic Girls (Bada Bing!)

Bruce Springsteen- Western Stars (Columbia/ Sony)

Sebadoh- Act Surprised (Dangerbird)

Le Superhomard- Meadow Lane park (Elefant)

James Clarke Five- Parlour Sounds (The Beautiful Music)

The Boys with the Perpetual Nervousness – Dead Calm (Pretty Olivia)

Tennis Club- Pink (Elefant)

Parsnip- When the Tree Bears Fruit (Trouble in Mind)

The Muffs- No Holiday (Omnivore)

The Kyle Sowashes- I Don’t Know What To Tell You (Anyway Records)

The Vapour Trails- See You In the Next World (Futureman Records)

Jason Hawk Harris- Love and the Dark (Bloodshot)

Trip Wire- Once & Always (Big Stir Records)

Lloyd Cole- Guesswork (EAR Music)

Mike Krol- Power Chords (Merge)

Bubblegum Lemonade- Desperately Seeking Sunshine (Matinee)

The Silent Boys- By the Light of the Moon (Bossy Lil Thing Records)

The Pearlfishers- Love and Other Hopeless Things (Marina)

Spray Paint- Into the Country (12XU)

The Ocean Blue- Kings and Queens/ Knave and Thieves (Korda)

I also really enjoyed records by……Unhappy Fly, I Was a King, The Hussy, 75 Dollar Bill, Snail Mail, Apex Manor, Mike Gale, Rob Laufer, Richard X, Heyman, Skull Practitioners, Todd Herfindal, Young Guv, New Pornographers, Scott Gagner, The Memory Fades, Mudhoney, The Well Wishers, Golden Pelicans, The Reds, Pinks and Purples, Lucille Furs, The Umbrella Puzzles, Westkust , Mondello , Johnny Couch, Weyes Blood, Spearmint, Corridor, Joy Cleaner, Elva, Possible Humans, Blue Jeans, the BVs, etc .etc.

COLLECTIONS/ REISSUES

The Springfields- Singles, 1986-1991 (Slumberland)

The Victims- S/T (In the Red)

Dream Syndicate- The Days of Wine and Roses (Fire)

Stephen Duffy- I Love My Friends (Needle Mythology)

Human Switchboard- Who’s Landing in my Hangar (Fat Possum)

The Dum Dum Boys- Let There Be Noise (In the red)

Soul Asylum- Made to be Broken & While You Were Out (Omnivore)

Holiday Flyer- The Rainbow Confection & Try Not To Worry (Darla)

Metz- Automat (Sub Pop)

The Toms- The 1970 Sessions (Futureman Records)

SOME LISTS BY DINA HORNREICH

In a not-so comprehensive (mostly desultory) manner I have thrown this list of current zeitgeisty kinds of things that I encountered in one way or another that had various compelling bits, chunks, and other substantial nuggets (if not their complete entirety) of a musical persuasion that provided something engaging, amusing, enlightening, challenging, discordant, or otherwise worthwhile for my freaky mind, body, and soul to chew on in this last year of 2019. There are always tons and tons of things that I missed and/or never got to (but always meant to) so not exhaustive whatsoever. More a reflection of where I’ve been these days and how I’ve gotten here... (and will try to remain, if circumstances allow.)

Some Recorded Albums:

● Sneaks: Highway Hypnosis (Merge)

● The World: Reddish (Microminiature)

● Sacred Paws: Run Around the Sun (Merge)

● Trash Kit: Horizon (Upset the Rhythm)

● A-WA: Bayti Fi Rasi (BMG)

● Sleater-Kinney: The Center Won’t Hold (Mom + Pop)

● Ex Hex: It’s Real (Merge)

● Angel Olsen: All Mirrors (Jagjaguwar)

● Vagabon: s/t (Nonesuch)

● GRLwood: I Sold My Soul to the Devil When I Was 12 (sonaBLAST!)

● Girl Friday: Fashion Conman EP (Hardly Art)

● Tacocat: This Mess is a Place (Sub Pop)

● Karen O/Danger Mouse: Lux Prima (BMG)

● Cherry Glazerr: Stuffed and Ready (Secretly Canadian)

● Habibi: Come My Habibi single (Muddguts)

● Haim: Hallelujah EP (Columbia)

● Grimes: “We Appreciate Power”/”Pretty Dark” demo/”4AEM”/”Violence”/”So Heavy I Fell Through The Earth” various pre-album release singles (4AD)

● Madame Gandhi: Visions EP - Extended Versions (self-released?)

● Chai: PUNK (Burger)

● Kero Kero Bonito: Civilisation I single (Polyvinyl)

● Solange: When I Get Home (Columbia)

● UT: Conviction reissue (Mute)

Some Live Performances (mostly in Denver, CO):

● Hadgaba/Hal Aqua and the Lost Tribe (Denver Klezfest 2019 at Mercury Cafe)

● Jonathan Richman (Swallow Hill)

● Kristen Hersh (Hi Dive)

● Ex Hex/Moaning (Bluebird)

● Sleater-Kinney/Joseph Keckler (Ogden)

● Angel Olsen/Vagabon (Gothic)

● Holygram (Oriental)

● Cellista (Mercury Cafe)

● The Beths/Girl Friday (Globe)

● GRLwood (Globe)

● Tacocat/Paranoyds (Larimer)

● Short Shorts/Potty Mouth (Lost Lake)

● Nots (Lost Lake)

● Spiritualized (Gothic)

● Breezy Porticos (Chez Hinely)

● Church Fire/Glitter Vomit (Rhinoceropolis)

● FemmeFest 2019: Rare Byrds (Museum of Contemporary Art Denver)

● Love Languages/Teenage Fanclub (Bluebird)

● Girls Rock Denver Showcase 2019 (Summit Music Hall)

● Vivien Goldman (in-store at Rough Trade Records NYC)

● Imperial Teen (in-store at Twist’n Shout Records)

Some Books:

● Women Who Rock by Evelyn McDonnell

● Dayglo: Poly Styrene by Celeste Bell and Zoe Howe

● Revenge of the She-Punks by Vivien Goldman

● Why Karen Carpenter Matters by Karen Tongson

● Hardcore Anxiety: A Graphic Guide to Punk Rock and Mental Health by Reid Chancellor

● Liz Phair: Horror Stories (memoir)

● Frame of Mind: Punk Photos and Essays From Washington DC (and Beyond) 1997-2017 by Antonia Tricarico

● Girl in a Girl Band by Malia James

Some Film/TV (if not content relevant entirely, for its soundtrack minimally):

● Judy (BBC Films)

● Transparent (Amazon Series, Season 5/Musical Finale)

● Dolemite is My Name (Netflix Original Film)

● 2 Dope Queens (HBO Season 2, Episode 3)

● Trinkets (Netflix Series, Season 1)

● Blinded by the Light (New Line Cinema)

● Shrill (Hulu Series, Season 1)

● The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Amazon Series, Season 3)

● Big Mouth (Netflix Series, Season 3)

● A Handmaid’s Tale (Hulu Series, Season 3)

● GLOW (Netflix Series, Season 3)

● Orange is the New Black (Netflix Series, Season 7)

Some Radio/Podcast Outlets:

● She’s A Punk (podcast)

● Indie 102.3 FM (local station formerly Open Air CPR)

● KGNU 1390 AM (local station)

● Radio 1190AM KVCU (local station)

And to go full circle around in the weird miasmic disorientations of blogs/zines, and every tool in between...I could mention the writers at Bust, Bitch, Pitchfork, even… DAGGER. But credit for discoverability also includes the vending platforms of Spotify/Bandcamp/Apple Music/Soundcloud themselves (and their haunted algorithms) as well as musicians’ various social media counterparts (which may or may not include their publicists) on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. (and where does YouTube fit in exactly?) which means the industry will eventually eat itself. Happy New Year, ladies and germs. Who knows what the next decade will bring? Whatever it may be, let it be progress rather than random changes for no apparently good reasons.

5 notes · View notes

okietokiee · 5 years

Text

Fic: Hjönk, Hjönk

Pairing: Skwisgaar Skwigelf/Toki Wartooth

Rating: M

I was really inspired by @picklespunchedme @bittebecca @sonderrbeee ‘s various fan art of clown!Skwisgaar 😳 thanks so much for letting me write a fic based on your gorgeous art!! 💕

Summary:

Skwisgaar makes some especially harsh remarks which cause Toki to start avoiding him, and the lack of contact is really starting to make the Swede’s sex drive go absolutely haywire.

Fortunately, Skwisgaar comes up with a genius (albeit horrifyingly embarrassing) plan to make it up to his hot-tempered boyfriend lover.

And Toki positively loves it. Perhaps a little too much.

——————

Skwisgaar knew he had fucked up.

After countless years of brutally harsh, biting criticisms and demeaning insults, Toki had finally had it. Normally he was able to take Skwisgaar’s comments, admittedly not always in a stride, but with minimal bloodshed (most of the time). And he wasn’t even completely sure what was different about today, about the disparaging remarks he’d grown used to throwing out daily.

Maybe it was the stress of having to record a whole knew album from scratch? The stress of the rising tensions becoming so goddamn obvious lately? He knows he’s not the smartest person around, but you’d have to be blind to not see the cracks forming in their band’s already fragile dynamics. He knows it’s not just affecting Nathan and Pickles.

But whatever the underlying causes were, all it took was an offhand, “That’s was fuckins dildos, dos it agains idiots,” during a slow-moving rehearsal to get Toki raging like a spoiled five-year-old kid told that no, he could not have candy for dinner.

After screeching and using his flying-V to destroy a fair amount of their studio and sound equipment, Toki had tired himself out and retired to his bedroom.

He’d also taken to avoiding him for the past week. And maybe the Skwisgaar from a few years ago wouldn’t have (outwardly) cared so much, but ever since they’d shared an earth-shattering, momentous night together just months before, they’d both been inhabiting the same bed for a majority of nights.

And, though Skwisgaar would rather die a painful death by firing squad than admit it to anyone, Toki had been the only person he’d been sleeping with ever since that night. He loathed to label it as anything serious, but that didn’t change the fact that he was painfully reluctant to break this surprising streak of faithfulness, his longest one yet.

However, regardless of how much he didn’t want to sleep with anyone that wasn’t a dopey Norwegian guitar player with a penchant for tantrums and hissy fits, that didn’t change the fact that his sex drive was going fucking haywire.

Storming into the Mordhaus living room, he irritably asked, “Has anyones seens our dildos rhythm guitarist?”

“Eh, I think he went out drinkin’ with thet clown again,” a stoned out Pickles mumbled from the couch.

“Whats!? I thoughts we puts a restrainings orders on dat creep!”

Nathan sighed from a nearby desk, putting down his book. “Yeah, we did. But you know that kid. He just loves those fucking clowns.”

That unfortunate string of words made an idea pop up in Skwisgaar’s head.

“…coulds you repeats dat?”

“I said he loves those goddamn clowns.”

“Nos, de odder words!”

Nathan glared, confused. “Those fucking clowns?”

Skwisgaar grinned manically. “Ja! Dat weirdos loves fucking clowns!”

Pickles could be heard potentially dying of laughter a few feet away.

Nathan narrowed his eyes, a disgusted grimace on his mouth. “I know you suck at English Skwisgaar, but ugh. That’s some brutal imagery.”

Skwisgaar, ever the trooper, did not let the revolting thoughts affect him, as his plan was coming to fruition in his mind. Yes, Toki was annoyingly fond of childish gimmicks, clowns included. Toki could never even stay mad at Dr. Rockso, an old drugged-up, strung-out rock-and-roll clown, no matter what shit that creepy asshole put him through.

Yes, he knew what he had to do. He didn’t like it one bit, and it could potentially ruin his reputation completely if word ever got out that he even considered this.

But…

Skwisgaar bit his lip, his thoughts suddenly full of brown whiskers and childish giggles.

It would be worth it.

——————

Hours later, Skwisgaar was regretting every single choice he’d ever made in life that had led up to this point. He felt like a fool and looked like one too.

His only solace was that the random klokateer he’d ordered to find him this costume was no longer capable of ever blabbing his secret to anyone, at least in any way that involved a functional mouth. Or hands.

And now he found himself pacing around Toki’s small room, waiting for the little dildo to get back home. The sound of his baggy blue and yellow pants swishing and the stomping of his large red shoes did nothing to alleviate his growing anxiety.

Skwisgaar scratched at his neck, careful not to smudge any of the meticulously applied clown make-up he’d taken an hour to perfect. He was vaguely grateful that his experience with corpse paint made this endeavor slightly easier, but also horrified at exactly how naturally circus make-up came to him.

As he was pondering his deteriorating mental state, he heard the door creak open and a surprised, ear-shattering, absolutely delighted squeal.

Toki crashed face-first into his chest, holding tighter than a newborn koala to its mother.

“Oh Odin! Yous a real cool clowns Skwisgaar!” Toki gleefully said, nuzzling the red ruffles around his neck.

Skwisgaar was glad his red cheeks were camouflaged by the blindingly white paint.

“Eugh… Ja, I guess I ams,” the Swede nonchalantly agreed, not meeting his lover’s eyes.

Toki paused from his snuggling, and gazed adoringly up at Skwisgaar’s embarrassed face.

“Skwisgaar… Dids you do dis because you know Tokis been mads at yous?”

Skwisgaar coughed awkwardly and avoided his gaze. “Maybes if a dumb dildos hadn’t beens avoidins me for sos long, it woulds not haves come to dis…”

Toki smirked. “Yous just proving Toki needs to do dat more often.”

“Fucks you-!”

“Okej,” Toki cut him off with a contented sigh, cuddling into Skwisgaar’s colorful, silky costume even more.

This was the closest they’d been in a week, and Skwisgaar’s body was responding rather excitedly to their close proximity.

Toki giggled, feeling the growing hardness coming from Skwisgaar’s loose trousers, and he pulled the Swede over to the bed and pushed him down, crawling right on top of him and going in for a deep, fervent kiss. With the right angle, Toki was able to avoid dislodging the bright red clown nose on his lover’s face.

With a few well-practiced maneuvers Skwisgaar was able to bring Toki down to only his underwear, but when he made movements to remove his own ridiculous clothes he was stopped by a firm hold.

“Nos, keeps it on.” Toki’s flushed, erotic expression was very convincing.

“Ja, fines…” Skwisgaar groaned, canting his hips up, desperate for any kind of friction.

Toki smiled, reaching for the lube that has been ever-present at his bedside table for the past few months. He took a moment to take in Skwisgaar’s smudged clown make-up and gorgeous, smoldering expression. The juxtaposition was disorienting.

“Skwisgaar…?”

“Ja Tokis?”

“Do yous maybe… I knows we havent’s dones it likes dis yet, but,” Toki mumbled, his face red and expression coquettish, “I think I wants to tries to take it.”

Skwisgaar was at a loss for words, his mind (and body) already overheating. So far Toki had been the only one topping, citing his lack of experience with men and dislike of being dominated as his main reasons for wanting to avoid switching positions. And Skwisgaar hardly cared, always being very satisfied by Toki’s eager enthusiasm.

But the thought of finally being able to become so wholly one with Toki had Skwisgaar’s head spinning and heart racing.

“Of course älskling, as long as yous ready,” Skwisgaar said, rubbing circles on Toki’s naked hips.

Toki’s eager nodding was answer enough and then he wiggled out of his underwear.

Skwisgaar leaned forward to get a hold of the lube, but Toki pushed him back down.

“Yous just watch for nows,” Toki murmured with a sweet smile, opening the lube to prepare himself.

Skwisgaar couldn’t handle watching a mewling, trembling Toki Wartooth preparing himself for long without feeling like he was going to literally explode into a cloud of confetti. The Swede pushed his own baggy pants down, not fully taking it off but exposing his painfully erect manhood. He moaned, giving himself a few strokes as he continued watching his lover teasing him.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, Toki stopped and got another generous dollop of lube for Skwisgaar Jr. before lining himself up on the Swede’s lap.

Skwisgaar watched enraptured as Toki slowly lowered himself down with a seductive whine and several sensuous movements of his hips.

“Ah, fuckins hell Toki,” Skwisgaar cried, thrusting up desperately.

Toki reciprocated in kind with more moans and wet, raunchy kisses, ruining a good portion of Skwisgaar’s make-up.

As it was getting especially intense, their movements both in sync and frantic, Toki leaned down and did something incredibly peculiar and, honestly, kind of hot, at least to Skwisgaar’s current fucked-out-of-his-mind state.

“Hjönk, hjönk,” Toki murmured with a smile as he squeezed the large, squeaky clown nose on Skwisgaar’s face with something akin to reverence. All without once pausing his fast, unmerciful pace.

Skwisgaar was too goddamn horny and in love to question this, and he just responded by increasing his thrusts as well as his volume.

“Ah, for the loves of Odins, Toki I’ms gonna-” he punctuated with a shout, feeling Toki tighten around him.

After a long moment of blissful euphoria for both of them, Toki collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily and sneaking a few affectionate kisses along his neck.

“So ams guessings you not mads anymore?” Skwisgaar snickered, running his fingers through Toki’s now tangled, sexily-ruffled hair.

Toki giggled and playfully gave Skwisgaar’s big red nose, which surprisingly hadn’t fallen off at all during their vigorous lovemaking, a few more squeezes, filling the small room with obnoxiously loud honking noises.

“Nah, buts if you does something like dis every time I gets mad at yous then I gonnas make sure to be angry evens more oftens.” Toki chuckled, snuggling up to Skwisgaar’s now cum and sweat stained clown costume.

Skwisgaar sighed, equal parts hopelessly exasperated and desperately fond.

“Wells enjoys it while yous cans you dildo, dis ams not likelys to ever, ever happens again,” Skwisgaar said firmly.

Toki grinned mischievously and lifted himself up.

“I thinks Toki cans change yous mind abouts dat,” he declared proudly, slipping out of bed to walk over to his nearby work desk. He leaned over it enticingly, ass up, giving Skwisgaar the most pornographic come-hither look the Swede had ever seen.

“Comes over heres and let’s me convince yous,” Toki murmured suggestively, giving his cute butt a little shake.

And that night was the first of many that the halls of Mordhaus were filled with the echos of passionate Scandinavian honking and lovemaking.

——————

I don’t think Hjönk actually translates to anything but god I love that word LOL

Also, sorry for any weird mistakes I didn’t catch! I’ll edit it and maybe add some extra stuff soon and then post it on ao3 :D

#about to board a 13hr flight and im glad i was able to post this first LOL #also im only a lil bit ashamed to admit that ya i totally get the clownkink toki probs has :')#metalocalypse #dethklok #mtl #skwistok #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #my fanfic #fanfiction #lemon #clowns

42 notes · View notes

iridescentanachronism · 5 years

Text

when one night only turns into two

hello folks, i have never written fanfiction and never used this blog! i guess i’m diving in headfirst LMAO!!!

this is a lil blurb i thought of when y/n is a singer (not super big but for sure up and coming) and she covers kiwi at one of her shows and it goes viral and harry notices and decides to just SHOW UP at her show the balls on this guy!! anyways this is my first fic so please be kind! constructive criticism is always welcome

“thank you for coming out tonight! your presence gives me the ability to do my job- i will always be grateful for each and every single one of you. drive safely and love one another, los angeles. thanks again for having me, you have been wonderful.”

as you walked off the small stage at the house of blues your heart swelled with pride. this was your first show out of state, and from what the audience sounded like, you had crushed it. performing in LA had always been a dream of yours, but a daunting one, considering that their crowds were used to big names and powerful stage presences. you were intimidated by the city- yet you walked off their stage with an indescribable feeling of pride, adrenaline, and confidence. this was the start of something new and you could feel it.

feeling someone’s eyes on you, you made a sharp turn and ran into your tour manager, rosco. “hello! hey, hey, hey, that was amazing wasn’t it? the energy felt absolutely maddening! god, i could do that everyday for the rest of my life. what do you think? was it too much, did we do too many covers?” the words seemed to flow right out of you, even though you gave LA your all, it was still LA, and rosco had always been your best critic. he quickly responded to let you know it was as amazing as you’d originally thought, and that if this show was any indication, you would have plenty more shows in LA.

what you didn’t expect, however, was the ruckus that one of the aforementioned covers would cause on twitter. you had always loved harry styles, and after taking quite some time to look into the legalities on the matter, decided to cover kiwi for the first time last night. logging into your account, you noticed the song title trending- and after clicking on it you were led to a video of your show, hair being shaken around you, throwing yourself around the stage with the heavy music, and the scene was completed with a boisterous crowd jumping around and singing every word along with you. a smile covered your face- this is your favorite part of performing, losing yourself entirely in the stage, and in this video you were doing just that. however excited you had become at the potential this showed for your career, you immediately had so many questions. why had this blown up so much? you covered four songs last night, why is this one such a big deal? after looking through the tag, chuckling at some memes, and being freaked out by some responses, you had found the tweet that made you lose your shit. the tweet itself wasn’t even the raunchiest you had found this morning, it simply stated: “@y/t/n: fuck my shit up, babe. literally, whatever you want to do to me, do it” with the linked video of you singing kiwi. however, one thing in particular stood out to you. the part that said “liked by harry styles”.

you immediately dialed rosco, not only is he your tour manager, but basically your entire support system. a musicians life gets lonely, and he is the only one who has stuck by you throughout the entire tumultuous journey.

“sweetheart! perfect timing, i actually was just about to call-”

“harrystylessawthekiwivideoandlikedatweetaboutitholyfuckingshit-” you started to ramble, your most prominent nervous trait, in the highest pitch rosco thought he had ever heard from you.

“sweets, first of all, where was that pitch when we recorded the album? second, take a breath and tell me again, i can’t understand a damn thing you said”

you took a deep breath and told him of the tweets you saw, and when you told him about harry’s interaction he simply told you to chill out. he had favorited a tweet, and he may not have even been the one to do it. with an odd sting you realized he was correct, while it was exciting to have your idol recognize you, you could not overthink it: it was simply recognition for a job well done.

“it seems as though the people you needed to impress are just as proud of you as i am, lovey, your ‘one night only’ in los angeles has been extended to two, you interested in doing it all over again tomorrow night?”

you must have looked like a goldfish in your kitchen, jaw slack and eyes wide open, you struggled to come to your senses. you had asked for the chance to prove yourself in a city known for music, and good music at that, and were apparently being gifted with a second chance.

“oh! um, yes, of course, why wouldn’t i? holy shit, this is amazing, holy shit!” you began to squeal and run in circles around your house. whilst giggling with elation, the seriousness of this event hit you: two nights of rocking out with the liveliest crowd you have ever played for, in the city you’ve dreamt of doing this in for years. drops began to form in your eyes as you managed to spit out a quick thank you to rosco, who knew you would cry. he, quite frankly, did not want to hear your tears, so he hung up after telling you what to tweet.

after logging on you realized you had gone from a respectable 10k followers to an overwhelming 30k, you almost squealed again, composing yourself enough to type, you wrote:

@y/t/n: wow. in absolute awe of you la. thank you for supporting me, and thank you for letting me do what i do. and thanks to you all, i have been gifted another night here (-: night two at the hob! tickets on sale at 6pm california time, come see me tomorrow night, peeps! i’ll be sure to make it worth your while <3

with the click of your fingers and the ping of your phone, the announcement had been sent, and the stage had been sent. the pressure was on, and you had never felt more in your element.

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

everything that could have gone wrong on the morning of your fateful second show, had. you had woken up late (something minor, but was an omen for your bad day), gotten a flat tire, been hit on by the man sent to fix said flat tire, and had been late to soundcheck. after arriving at soundcheck you had found that everything was wrong, the stage wasn’t set up correctly, the duct-taped x’s from the previous show had been removed, and you had to all but start from the beginning.

you had planned to change things up from your previous gig, but had no time to practice the changes. you spoke to your band and hoped that was enough, you drank some coffee, did some jumping jacks, warmed up your vocals, and put on your game face. this is your second show in LA, and you weren’t going to let anything ruin it; hearing the sounds of a sold out bar in front of you, feeling your heart began to flutter in your chest, and knowing that in a few minutes you would be putting on the best show of your goddamn life had set you up well. you were ready. with your shoulders back and head up high, you walked onto stage and, unknowingly, commanded the attention of the room.

about twenty minutes into your set you decided to take a quick breather. taking a long sip of water and leaning into the microphone, you decided to do a quick little check in, “hey folks, hows everyone doing out there?” your southern drawl had just slipped in towards the end, and you felt so at ease on stage that you hadn’t even noticed. someone else did notice.

harry styles had decided to surprise you at your show, he had favorited that tweet because he agreed- you could do whatever you wanted to him, but he would rather do whatever you wanted to you. he had his signature smirk on as he stood backstage, listening to rosco ramble about how surprized you would be when you realized he had come, and how much you adored his album. as you continued to banter back in forth with the sold out bar, harry had taken note of how peaceful you looked. you stood proudly on stage, with messy hair, and a sick body you looked comfortable; the stage had seemed like your home.

luckily, you hadn’t noticed harry the entire show, hadn’t even noticed how his eyes hadn’t left your body while you passionately belted out every word to his song, completely losing yourself in the melody, and delivering another breathtaking performance. he watched you take your final bow, and heard your last expression of gratitude, before watching you run off stage and into the arms of your tour manager. harry quickly noticed the tears in your eyes and the smile so large that it looked painful, he heard your rambling and the joy in your voice, it had reminded him of when this was all new, when nothing was guaranteed, and the only thing keeping him in this trying industry was the feeling you were experiencing right now.

his moment of nostalgia passed as you had unraveled yourself from rosco’s arms and did a double take. harry styles was standing in front of you. you heard a deep chuckle coming from him, likely due to your wide eyes and gaping mouth, he heard a quiet “no fucking way” come from you, and decided he had waited long enough. as cocky as usual, he rasped out, “hello love, your show was amazing. it’s a pleasure to meet you, i’m harry, as i think you may know” he didn’t bother waiting for a response from the gobsmacked young woman before continuing, “y’know, i’ve seen plenty of covers of kiwi, but none have been as genuine as yours. you captured the song for what it is, you blew it away, blew me away in fact, so i knew i had to come out and see ya tonight.” his accent grew thicker as he became more bemused with your state of shock.

your breath eventually caught up to you as you nervously chuckled, “holy shit, thank you so much. you have no idea how much that means coming from you. thank you for coming out, oh my god, i have so much to say to you but nothing is coming to mind other than thank you, so thank you, again”

“of course, darling, i loved it. i’ll be sure to pass along my number so whatever comes to mind can be said. unfortunately, i have to run, but i’ll be seeing you around kiddo, keep up the good work” harry said with a sly wink, leaving you flushed at the pet name, and yearning for more time with him. while you let out a soft thank you and goodnight, you began to think of what the future held for you. praise from harry styles was not to be taken lightly, and his impromptu visit had only fanned the flame in your soul, his visit meant you were doing something right, and this had been the fuel you needed to continue putting in long hours at the studio, and spending evenings alone, writing in your shitty and overpriced apartment.

while you had been thinking of what this visit meant for your career. harry had thoughts of you headlining arenas swimming around in his head. as he walked away he thought of you; thought of how immensely talented you were, how charismatic you were, and how far you had to go. he also thought of your grace, the presence you carried as you pranced around on stage, and the charming beauty that you seemed unaware of. harry styles knew you were talented, but he also knew you were breathtaking, and he could see absolutely nothing stopping you.

as he walked away and you listened to rosco’s compliments, you allowed your own mind to wander. maybe, just maybe, things were going to look up for you. and you couldn’t help but sigh happily at the thought.

A/N: hello peeps! sorry this was super long hmm i’m torn between cutting it or not, because not much harry but also the buildup is important to me, please let me know what you prefer! constructive criticism is ALWAYS welcome and apprecited! thanks for reading this far if you did, you mean the world to me! let me know if y’all would want a part two (-:

12 notes · View notes