#god guys of all time. shout out to judas! what the fuck was up there

[phoward89]

Based on this ask & this ask Series Masterlist

Soft!Dark!Coriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, StepDaddy!Coriolanus, Stepcest, Stepdaughter!Reader, Daddy Kink, Smut, DDLG, drug use reference, cougar/cub relationship, older man/younger woman

Chapter 1:

Your mother, recently widowed for the second time, sat you and your younger brother down on the living room sofa because she had an important announcement to make. She even had your older brother, who was serving as an officer for the Peacekeepers in 12, on video call for the special announcement.

An announcement that would change the rest of your life.

“Children, I'm getting married to the Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.”

“What the hell?...” Your younger brother, Darius, trailed off in disgust.

“Mother, I went to the Academy with that guy! He's too fucking young for you!” Your older brother, Rein, shouted.

“Oh my God, you're a cougar!” You exclaimed, trying but failing not to laugh. You found it a bit funny that your mother has managed to snag a man your older brother's age. Who would've thought. Maybe all those facelifts paid off after all…

“Will you children stop it?” Your mother scolded all three of you. “Coriolanus is a nice man who's about to declare a Senate run. He's very successful and mature for his age.”

“Sounds like he's freaky to me.” Darius, who was 13, remarked.

Oh, if only you all knew how ‘freaky’ Coriolanus Snow was. And he wasn't truly into cougars freaky either.

Snapping his fingers, causing the screen on his end in the Peacekeepers base to crackle, Rein said, “Lil bro’s right, man has to be freaky to wanna marry somebody old enough to be his mother.”

“Maybe he really likes her.” You shrugged, trying to put out any fanning fires before they flare up.

Oh boy…if only you knew who Coriolanus really liked. And it wasn't your mother, that's for sure.

“Or maybe he's marrying her for father's money?” Darius popped up with another theory.

“He was named Strabo Plinth's heir for being best friends with the man's only son. I don't see why mother's money would mean anything to him.” You told everyone, since you didn't think that a rich man would be a gold digger.

“Coriolanus Snow was always a shifty bastard.” Rein spat out in disgust. “Walked around with a stick up his ass in the Academy.” Your brother mocked the blonde your mother's now engaged too. Leaning in closer, so that his face was almost pressed up against the camera screen, he revealed, “Heard that he was given an extremely early discharge instead of being shipped to 2 for officer's training- which I'm glad for cause I would've strangled that pompous motherfucker if I had to do my training with him- cause Plinth desperately needed an heir.”

Your mother shook her head, only to order in a fed up tone, “Will all of you calm down? Whether you like it or not, I'm marrying him and he's going to be your stepfather.”

A week before the wedding you moved into Coriolanus' penthouse. It wasn't the 12th floor Corso penthouse he was raised in either. No, it was a new top floor penthouse in downtown Capitol City; in one of the Luxe Buildings. Actually, it was in the same building your friend from the Academy, Odysseus Odair, lived in.

When the Avox answered the door, your mother strolled on in like she was a queen. “Coriolanus, we're here!” She called out to your soon to be new stepfather as you and Darius walked inside of your new home.

“Rein’s right, dude looks shady as fuck, sis.” Darius whispered to you as Coriolanus came strutting down the hall in a deep red 3-piece suit, hair short on the sides and slicked back in a tight coif. “I don't trust him as far as we can throw him.”

“Be nice. He makes mom happy and he looks-” You began to tell your baby brother, only for him to cut you off with, “If you dare try to tell me that he looks happy too, then don't.” Looking between Coriolanus giving your mother a peck on the cheek, which looked more like the kiss of Judas then affectionate, and you, Darius said, “He looks like what I imagine Lucifer did before he fell from grace.”

“Don't call him Lucifer.” You chastised your brother.

“What? If the name fits…” He sing-songed with a shrug.

Coriolanus said something to your mother, only to shoo her down the hall before making his way over to you and your little brother.

“Here comes Satan.” Darius quietly whispered, never moving his mouth- much like a ventriloquist.

Coming to a stop right in front of you and your brother, Coriolanus flashed you a smile. One that was too sweet, too wide, showing off too many pearly white teeth. “Y/N.” He greeted you, your name dripping off his tongue thickly, causing your heart to race. If he was handsome looking at a distance, hell…he's hotter up close. And the way he just said your name? Holy shit…

Turning to your brother, Coriolanus’ face turned to stone. His voice was cold and clipped as he greeted him with a backhanded, "Oh, Darian isn't it?”

“Darius.” Your brother quickly corrected the tall platinum blonde looming over the two of you.

“Ah, yes, that's right.” Coriolanus nodded his head in a dismissive way. “Darius, the Avox will show you to your room.” He told your brother before snapping his hands and ordering the nearby Avox to, “Show Darius here to his room. Also, make sure his things are unpacked.”

The Avox took your brother upstairs to show him to his room while Coriolanus gave you a lingering look. A look that made your stomach do somersaults.

“I'll show you around your new home.” He told you, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you across the room.

“Thank you, but you don't have to do that. I know you're busy with your upcoming Senate campaign.”

“I'm your daddy now, my sweet baby girl, and daddy’ll always have plenty of time for his baby.” Coriolanus told you with a glint in his icy eyes and a husky tone in his voice. Perhaps too husky…

You didn't say a word, just let him show you the living room before bringing you into the kitchen. “We have a cook, so if there's anything special you want don't be shy to request it.”

“Is our housekeeper, Marisol, here?” You innocently asked, since you didn't see the woman (originally from 2) in the penthouse. You had assumed she'd be moving with you, since she lived with your family in your old townhouse.

“Yes-” Coriolanus heavily sighed while directing you out of the kitchen. “About that. Well, she missed her family back in the districts so she decided to go back.”

That was a lie. Marisol didn't decide to go back to 2. Coriolanus sent her back. In a pine box. Because she was too dangerous to be kept alive and around you. She cares about you too much, was warm and motherly to you. He knows that the former housekeeper would warn you away from him. Hell, would probably fight him- all to protect you from his plans.

Yes, his dark plans to finally have you.

And by have you, well, Coriolanus wants to take your innocence. He wants to be the first and only man to fuck you. He wants to be your lover, your confidant, your other half, your man.

He can't have some District 2 immigrant housekeeper ruining his plans either. Not when everything's perfectly set in place.

Yea…

Coriolanus isn't marrying your mother because he likes her, he's marrying her to get close to you. All because he's obsessed with you. And the thought of having you call him Daddy while he pounds your pussy drives him wild.

You could say that Coriolanus has a bit of a daddy kink. One that he plans on enacting with you real soon. You're 18 and you'll be graduating from the Academy soon. Now's the perfect time to get everything he wants.

After seeing the first floor of the penthouse (yea, the grand thing has 2 floors!), which included your mother sitting out on the patio deck with a cocktail in one hand and cigarette holder in the other, Coriolanus led you up the sleek, modern staircase- that had a glass wall bannister. Instead of leading you to your room, he took you over to the balcony- which had a glass wall as a railing.

“All of this is yours, my darling.” Coriolanus whispered, breath hotly fanning your ear, as his hard muscled chest pressed against your back. His large, calloused hands were on top of yours, which were holding onto the railing, as you looked down at the first floor of the penthouse. He nuzzled your hair with his prominent nose while letting out a husky promise off, “Anything you want, you desire, Daddy’ll get it for you, sweet baby girl.” His thumbs run over your knuckles as he lightly grinds his hard bulge into your ass. “Daddy’ll take such good care of his precious baby girl, now that you're all mine.”

Your brain began to explode. What the hell?! What's going on?! Is your stepdad (well soon to be stepdad in a couple of weeks) coming onto you? Yes, he's your older brother's age (they went to the Academy together), but he's marrying your mother. This can't be happening!

Oh, but yes, yes it is.

It's happening!

Coriolanus, knowing that he has to show you to your room, pulled away from you. You let you a breath you didn't even know you were holding, but you also felt a slight tingling feeling between your legs. A dampness. You know it's wrong it let Coriolanus words affect you so strongly, but they did.

“Come on, Y/N.” The platinum blonde god of a man told you, grabbing your hand and dragging you away from the balcony. “I need to show you to your room.”

“Okay.” You simply said, voice trembling a bit from the slight ache in your core.

Damn him for turning you on just a moment ago.

Coriolanus smirked at hearing the slight tension in your voice. He liked that he was making you all hot and bothered. Having such power over you thrilled him, gave his already too big ego a boost.

He pointed to a bathroom, only to tell you that it was yours before coming to a stop at your room. Across from your room were intricate French doors, trimmed in gold vining roses. With a wolfish grin, Coriolanus gestured to the doors across from your room and told you, “That's my room, my darling.” Pinning you to your door by holding your hands above your head in one of his large hands; leaning his head to ghost his lush lips over the shell of your ear, he huskily coos, “It's my room, all mine, so you're allowed to come in and spend time with me anytime you want.”

“But-” You began to object to his forward come on, since he was marrying your mother soon, but he cut you off by placing a finger on your lips. Grinding his hard bulge, which was very sizable, into you, he lustfully declared, “My room’s my own, sweet girl, so I assure you that we won't get caught.” Your eyes went wide, causing him to nibble at the sweet spot behind your ear. “I know you want to fuck me as badly as I wanna fuck you, Y/N. I can hear your labored breathing and can feel you clenching your thighs; they're rubbing against my legs.

“Coriolanus, you're marrying my mother and you're-” You began to try and reason with him, only for him to grab your chin in his hand. Squeezing it harshly, he confessed, “I don't care about that old whore. Helenium’s only a means to an end; you're the one that I want. That I crave, that I want to bury my cock deep into; fuck full of children.”

“We can't do that, Cor-” You started to say, only for him to curtly cut you off with, “Call me Coryo or Daddy.” Caressing your cheek, he lustfully smiled, “You'll be calling me Daddy while I fuck you, baby girl.”

Oh boy…you're in for it now.

You felt the heat pooling deep inside of you. Your pussy ached with such want, one that you've never felt before. And even tho you knew it was wrong, you needed relief. God, you needed to find a way to get yourself alone in your room so that you could play with your pussy.

As if he could read your mind, Coriolanus rolled his hips against yours, causing you to stifle a moan, while telling you, “You want to hide in your room, fuck your fingers, but you don't need to do that anymore. Not when you have Daddy to fuck you; make you feel good.”

The offer was tempting, but there was just one catch.

“I'm a virgin, Coryo. I-” You began to explained, only for Coriolanus to press a kiss to your lips, shushing you. All words died on your lips, causing Coryo to rest his forehead against yours and say, “Don't worry, sweet girl, Daddy’ll pop your sweet cherry when you're ready.” Your heart raced in your chest as he told you, “Daddy'll feast on your pussy, finger fuck you, and teach you how to suck cock- like a good baby girl- tonight.”

The sound of a doorknob turning and a door beginning to open caused Coriolanus to back away from you- as if he’d been burned- and scurry off into his room, leaving you leaning against the door of yours, as a nearby door slammed shut followed by footsteps coming up the hall. You just sighed, turned around, and went inside of your room.

You expected to see your things in your room, or at least boxes with your things in it, but instead you're met with a room that was baby pink. Actually, it wasn't just baby pink, but it was covered in girly decor. The furniture was white, the duvet was pink rose print, the satin sheets pink, and the pillow cases pink roses with pink ruffles. A large white mirror sat on top of a white vanity that had a vase with a single white rose perched on it, along with white pearls, and a silver compact. You also have a wooden hair bow organizer on the wall filled with bows and ribbons in various shades of white, cream, red, pink, and rose prints.

And when you inspected your closet, to see if maybe your clothes were unpacked, you noticed that you had an entirely new wardrobe. Instead of your usual clothes, your large walk-in closet was now filled with mini skirts, dresses, blouses, and sweaters in various shades of cream, white, and pink. There were even a few red items amongst the mix too. And all of your shoes were replaced with Mary Jane’s in a few different shades and a pair of designer black kitten heels. You know, the ones with the red bottoms. And don't forget about the shelf filled with designer handbags in every size in the colors of white, cream, pink, and red.

Yes, red! You had about 20 new handbags and at least 5 of them were red!

Oh my God, Coriolanus did all of this for you…

It made your head spin.

A knock sounded at your door, causing you to call out a simple come in. You expected Coriolanus to strut thru the door, but instead your little brother, Darius entered.

“Sis, daddy dearest is a fucking whackbag. He gave me a closet full of new, snobby clothes and a handbook on how to behave properly like a Snow.” Darius told you as you sat down on your vanity chair. Taking in the decor of the room, he huffed, “And he's made you the croquette aesthetic princess.” Shuddering, he waved his hand about and said, “The walls look like they've been painted in pepto bismol.”

“Darius, stop. He's just trying to be nice.” You defended Coriolanus without even thinking twice about it.

Did you secretly desire the forbidden fruit? The man whose obsession with you has led him to marry your mother. Just to get you under his roof; in his bed.

Yes.

Yes you did.

And whether you fully know it yet or not, you're sneaking into his room tonight to see if he's bluffing about what he wants to do to you.

Wandering around your room, Darius scoffed. “There's nothing nice ‘bout Satan, sissy.”

“Don't call Coryo Satan, Darius.” You scolded your brother as he opened up your dresser drawer.

“Coryo?” He asked, brow raised. “I see he managed to win you over. What'd he do, promise to give you your own black Amex?” Darius sarcastically asked, only to slam the drawer he was rooting thru shut. “That sick fuck gotcha a lingerie drawer full of lacy stuff.”

“I doubt he got it. Maybe his cousin picked them out for me, she is a stylist.”

“Yea, maybe.” Darius nodding, all the while making a mental note to keep an eye on how your new stepdaddy acted around you.

Mhm…

After seeing that panties drawer, well, your little brother didn't trust Coriolanus around you. Not that he trusted the guy to begin with.

Late that night, when everyone was asleep, you found yourself in Coriolanus' room; writhing in his bed with his head buried between your legs. Your hands clutched his platinum blonde curls tightly, letting out little mewls as he lapped at your soaking cunt. His nose bumped against your clit, causing your hips to buck-chasing your pleasure.

“Oh…Daddy…” You moaned as he began to messily eat our pussy, his head moving side to side vigorously. Oh god, could Coriolanus eat cunt. He was a natural at it; born to do it. And his skill was going to make your eyeballs roll into the back of your head, was going to make you cum for a third time.

The first time he made you cum was when he had you pressed against his bedroom door, panties pulled to the side with his long, large fingers stuffed deep inside of your pussy. The second time he has you cumming was just moments ago, when he was tongue fucking you.

Coriolanus loved hearing you call him Daddy in the bedroom. It made his hard cock even harder, of that was possible. It was such a turn on. Yes, it was dirty and taboo to be fucking with his soon to be stepdaughter (twisted even), but he didn't care. Coriolanus always did what he wanted; society be damned.

Hell, with his silver tongue he had turn society to his will. Make and change the rules. So, he's not worried about the Capitol finding out about his dark, kinky side when it comes to you- his sweet little stepdaughter. His baby girl.

He's got a plan in place of how to navigate his marriage and the corruption of you. Eh…he doesn't plan on being married that long. He just needs to find the opportune moment to get rid of your mother. Of course, after he's married to her for a little while (just long enough to get his grubby hands on all of her money; her assets, and your brother's inheritance that he tricked her into signing over to him in an updated will).

Coriolanus poisoned your first stepfather, General Prometheus Byzantine because he refused his offer of courtship for you. The General laughed in his face; told him that he'd get to you over his dead body. He also told Coriolanus that his stepchildren (you and your older brother, Rein) would not be inheriting anything from him or your mother, that your little brother, Darius, would get it all. That Coriolanus was better off finding a proper Capitol girl- perhaps one closer to his own age, to marry.

But the stoic platinum blonde didn't want just anybody, he wanted you. And he'd do anything to get you. Which’s working so far, considering he's devouring your cunt like a starving man.

“Coryo…Daddy…please…” You begged, on the verge of cumming again, as you felt the knot burning low in your depths begin to tighten

Resting his head against your thigh, he lustfully told you, “Daddy's got you, baby girl. Daddy's gonna make you cum again.”, before sucking hard and fast on your clit and pistoning two of his long fingers in and out of your cunt; curling them just right to hit that spongy spot deep inside of you.

And while your chest is heaving, moans are spilling out of your mouth, and your hips are bucking like wild, Coryo’s feasting on you like your cunt as if he hasn't eaten in years. Your juices taste so good to him, so intoxicating. He can honestly say that your pussy’s the best he's ever tasted (and he's eaten a lot of pussy); he'll even say that he craves it's sweet, tangy nectar on his tongue now.

Oh, and how eating your cunt has him so turned on. So achingly hard, that he's roughly grinding into the mattress, desperate to seek some relief. But the sloppier he eats you out, drawing moans and mewls from your sweet lips, the harder and faster he humps into the mattress. The silk sheets teasing his cock, which was trapped in his boxer briefs.

Suddenly, the tension inside of you snapped and you were cumming. Mixed moans of Coryo and Daddy filled the air as your hands tangled in Coryo’s blonde curls, shoving him deeper into your cunt as you rode out your high.

The scent of your cunt, your juices soaking not just his tongue, but his face, and you calling his name sent Coryo over the edge; had him cumming in his boxer briefs.

Once you relaxed and let go of his hair, Coryo got up and stripped out of his underwear (he couldn't wear cum filled boxer briefs all night) and then rejoined you on the bed. Laying next to you, he held his arm open- inviting you to snuggle up into his side. Having never been with a man or experienced aftercare before, you just stared at him questioningly. As if you weren't sure whether to slide up next to him or not.

“Y/N, my darling rose, come here.” Coriolanus instructed, patting the spot next to him before stretching his arm out again; making room for you.

“Okay, Daddy.” You nodded, scooting your body to lay flush against him.

Wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, he chuckled, “You don't have to call me that all the time, baby. Just when we're fucking around.”

“So, outside of the bedroom you're Coryo then.” You concluded, resting your head on his chest.

“Unless you want me to fuck your brains out somewhere risky, where we might get caught, then yea- save Daddy for in here.”

“So, you have a Daddy kink “ You stated, not asked, as Coryo started to run the tips of his calloused fingers up and down your spine.

“Yes, and I'm also a Dom.” He stated, as if he was telling you what degree he earned in University, before listing off the other kinks he has. “Kink wise, I'm into spit play, impact play, anal play, and degradation.”

What the fuck have you just gotten yourself into? That's a lot of stuff he's into. And, well, you have no idea what any of that stuff is.

“Oh…” You trailed off.

“Hey, little dove, I know you're new to this so don't worry about all the things I like. We'll ease you into it; even find out if you like something I haven't mentioned.”

“Okay.” You agreed, nodding against his chest. A chest that looked like it was sculpted by Michelangelo.

You two cuddle together for a tad bit longer, just talking about little things. But then, you let out a yawn and the platinum blonde man knew it was time to send you on your way; back to your own room across the hall.

It was a good thing that your mother had a master suite downstairs, otherwise all of your moaning might've woken her up. Unknown to both you and Coryo, your little brother Darius (at the age of 13) had a bit of a drug problem. He developed it shortly after his father, Prometheus, died. So, since he was strung out in his bedroom down the hall, your moans didn't wake him up. Infact, a bomb could go off and it won't wake up Darius.

Coryo had no idea that marrying your mother, a week after your first encounter with him, in a scheme to get all of her money along with your younger brother's inheritance (In order to give you what he felt you rightfully deserve) was going to give him the family the reporters, media outlets, and political opponents and rivals needed to skew his golden boy image. To screw up his Senate campaign.

Looks like the only thing Snow's landing on top of is you. 

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[slasherrabbitmadness]

Sinclair Brothers Au X Reader (F)

Highschool Au with the Sinclair Brothers. Fluff and Angst. Bo mentions sexual stuff but in a joking manner.

They have a crush on you while you're dating someone else.

SFW, Fluff, and Angst.

Bo Sinclair - Female Reader dating Lester

He hated this. His stinky, stupid little brother just had to bring his girlfriend over. You’re supposed to be his girlfriend. You just never got the memo.

Lester had the biggest smile on his face as you and him sat next to each other at the dinner table. Vincent wasn’t paying attention, too engrossed in his gumbo and comic book while Bo sat there shooting daggers at his brother. Thank god Bo is always in a pissy mood around his family, they thought nothing of his sneer.

Bo watched with fury whenever he caught Lester leaning in close to you. His brown eyes look at you with adoration. Could tell when Lester ran his hand up and down your thigh, thinking he was being slick. Amateur.

“Y’know, Y/N, ever since you’ve started dating Les, he’s been showering. See Trudy, told ya it’d take a girlfriend to get him to act human.” Lester went bright red and looked down in embarrassment.

“Victor! What you mean is it’s nice to see Lester so happy he’s just showing us all just how happy.” Trudy knew what Victor said was right, just it broke her heart to see Lester’s face fall at his words.

“Let’s hope it lasts,” Victor mumbled.

“It won’t,” replied Bo.

“Beauregard! Can you not?” Trudy fumed. Bo stood up from the table not wanting to be a part of the awkward tension that was dinner. He stole a glance at you as he walked away. He swore he saw it, that look. The look of “Please don’t leave.”

He lied in bed, not wanting to listen to your laughter downstairs, Lester singing your praises, how you both planned on going out Friday night for another date. Fuck.

That night it was Vincent who went to Check up on Bo. Your Twin will just know when something is off.

“She looked at me, y’know. I could read her eyes. She didn’t want me away from her.” Bo said with a smug knowing tone. Vincent shook his head and signed,

“She probably felt bad, felt awkward, it was her first time here.”

“Ya, well, let’s hope it’s her last.”

Vincent turned towards the door. He slumped his shoulders. Bo took in what Vincent was staring at. His stupid stinky little brother. Lester’s eyes, usually so vibrant, were downcast, a little glossy even.

“...Just because you hate her, Bo…” Lester couldn’t finish before he walked away from his older brothers, cursing himself for not sticking up for you.

Vincent gave Bo a knowing look and left.

Bo stewed on his bed, remembering when he first fell for you. Mrs. Power had partnered you up in science class. Bo wasn’t the best partner, he never did the work but he sure could make you laugh. When you first laughed at one of his jokes, be it from genuine humor or just being nice, Bo fell in love.

Then why didn’t he ask you out? Why did he have to date those other girls instead of you? Would be an ass to you in front of his friends but sweet on ya when it was just you and him. Why did Lester have to bug him at his lockers? Lester had immediately taken a shine to you right then and there. Why did you have to fall for his stupid stinky little brother, the one who used axe body spray like a shower? The weird one who collected roadkill and was friends with the employees at the dump.

How in the hell could his brother think he hated you. You. Warm, funny, kind you.

Bo doesn’t hate you. He wishes he did...

Lester Sinclair - Female Reader dating Metalhead Vincent

Lester made his way to Bo’s truck. Dodging past his peers and moving cars, Bo always parked the furthest away in the student parking lot. He wanted his car right at the exit so he could get the hell out of school asap.

“Hey, Bo!”

“Hey, Rat boy.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that.”

“What? You are our Rat boy.” Lester hated his brother. But he was Lester’s ride home so he never pushed a disagreement too far.

The two stood in awkward silence just waiting. Bo broke the silence with a huff. “The Freak is probably three deep in her right now.” Normally Lester would laugh at such a crude remark but it involved you. He didn’t want to treat you as some faceless girl the guys joked about being ‘loose’

“That freak better hurry up, he has a doctor’s app in an hour. And Dad likes it when a patient gets there early. Crotchety old man…”

Lester just stood there, remembering the last skin graft surgery and how the skin didn’t take to Vincent at all. Vincent tried his best to hide the pain, the physical and mental, but late one night he could hear his brother sobbing a room away.

“You know since he started dating, Y/N, he’s been less nervous about these appointments. Fine by me, I can’t stand when his ass gets all moppy.”

Lester knew what Bo meant. Bo got just as nervous as Vincent and vice versa. It was some weird twin thing they shared.

“There’s the fucker!” Bo pointed you and Vincent out. Lester had seen you and Vincent countless times together and every time he saw you both it felt like the first time all over again. That twist in his gut and pain in his throat. He remembers the first time he saw you with Vincent. You were acting all shy around Vincent’s metalhead buddies. They kept patting Vincent on the back,

“Good job, man!”

“Didn’t think you’d get a cute one.”

“Hey, Y/N, got any friends?”

Vincent wore his wax facial prosthetic covering most of his face but Lester knew that his brother was as red as a tomato.

Lester remembers meeting you in geography class. In the same group tasked to map out the local park. You and Lester buddied up, mapping the wooded trail. “Oh, Lester look, frog bones!” You quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed at pointing out something so weird but Lester fell in love. A girl into vulture culture? Perfect. You and Lester looked around for more bones, finding none. You handed him the frog skull. “Here, a memento of this weird day.” You smiled as you said it, Lester knowing you wanted to say more but fear of sounding sappy took over you.

Lester should have known it was the beginning of the end of the night you stopped by to drop off his assignments after he had been sick with mono. Instead of Lester at the door greeting you, it was his long hair, covered in judas priest-like stud bracelets and, Metallica shirt-wearing brother.

“Hi, Vincent! Huh, these are for Lester, do you mind giving these to him?” Lester wanted to scream out to you but with his groggy state wouldn’t allow it. He had no idea what Vincent was attempting to say to you, Vincent could speak but it was horse and quiet. Lester fell back asleep, your laughter from downstairs should have been soothing, should have made him feel better, but knowing it was because of Vincent…

You and Vincent were hand in hand making your way to Bo’s truck. Bo wore a straight face while Lester hid his disdain. “Hey, Lester!” You shouted with a smile! Damn it, Lester tried to hide his blush, he turned his head around to make sure you didn't catch it.

“Y/N, wanna ride home? If so, hurry up, Candle Head has an appointment.”

Vincent flipped Bo off and helped you into the truck. You snuggled together in the back seat of the car, Vincent nuzzling into your hair and murmuring sweet nothings.

Bo gave Lester a look, smirking at Lester’s scowling.

Vincent grumbled as Bo pulled up to your place. He tapped Bo on the shoulder and Bo nodded, understanding his brother without words.

Vincent walked you to your door, his large hand holding yours. You kept looking up to Vincent, smiling and giggling.

“Les, you can stop scowling.” Said Bo.

Lester grumbled.

“If it helps you, do it for now. Just learn to get over it. Vincent has never been happier. When Candle Head is happy, I feel it. When he’s sad, I feel it. So just let Vincent have this. Besides, you chickened out on asking her.”

Lester ignored his brother and watched you and Vincent. “Oh shit, haha, Hey Candle Head! Nice one!” Bo shouted out the window to his brother, making Lester’s ear ring in the process.

Lester watched as Vincent removed some of his wax prosthetic and gave you a deep kiss. His stomach churned, his heart stopped, his head felt full and his left ear was still ringing.

Bo was right. Lester had chickened out. He had so many opportunities to ask you out but his insecurities got the best of him. He couldn’t be too mad, Vincent was happy for the first time in years. He’d learn to be happy for his brother, but not happy at losing out on you.

Vincent Sinclair - Female Reader dating Bo.

“Hey, Vin, want some? Vin?” Vincent stared intently, eye not leaving you. Lester spoke up “Hey, Candle Head?” Vincent whipped his head at his little brother, he had his prosthetic on but Lester knew he was scowling. “Hey, got yer attention. Want some of this?” Lester shoved a funnel cake in his brother's face. Before Vincent could react “Well, too bad, you’ll have to get yer own.”

God, Vincent hated his brother sometimes. Speaking of brothers. Bo had you under his arm, shouting over your head to one of his friends “Ya, see you later, no, much later, I’ll be busy!” He leaned down to kiss your cheek “Busy with you, Dollface.” Vincent loved your laughter, just hated when it was Bo who made you laugh.

“Hey, Candle Head, gotta fiver?”

“Bo, don’t call him that, it's mean.”

“It’s a family thing, Candle Head don't mind, right?”

“Stop it, Bo!”

Bo scoffed at you and sneered at Vincent. “I’m gonna bum us some food.” He said to you as he kissed you on the forehead. Bo slammed his shoulder into his brother as he walked by. Vincent stood firm, his wider frame feeling nothing against his brother.

Walking up to Vinny you placed your hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for him. I know he’s your twin but he still doesn’t have to be that mean.” Vincent shrugged his shoulders, hands deep in his pockets. He fought the strong urge to pull you into him, hold your head into his chest and never let you go. He hated himself for being so sappy over you but he really couldn’t help it.

Vincent remembered when he first met you, the school library after class time. He was looking for an art history book. He saw you in the same aisle, grabbing scanning for what he remembers was ‘a book about frogs’ It was for your science class. Vincent walked over to you, did his best to speak, and ask what you needed. You excitedly told him, which shocked him. Mostly because, even though he talks to girls, they are never happy to talk to him. You rambled on and on to him, how annoyed you were at your stupid science partner, Bo. Vincent laughed, explaining to you that was his stupid brother.

“I feel like an ass. Sorry.” You sighed and hid your face behind your hands. Vincent assured you that it was okay and Bo is an asshole. If Bo was an asshole, why did you have to start dating him?

He remembers when Bo snapped at you in the hallway, the embarrassment was all over your face. Remembers when Bo stood you up on a date. You came into school the next day cussing out Bo. He called you a bitch and from that moment on he found a new sense of hatred for his twin.

“Hey, Candle Head, get yer own girlfriend, Babe, get over here.” Vincent gave you a sad look as you returned one to him. You ran into Bo’s arms and he spun you around, careful not to drop the red snow cone in his hand. “See, Babe, Red, so we both can enjoy it.” You giggled sweetly at him, he held it up to you, pushing it into your nose.

“Bo!” You scolded but laughed as he kissed the red juice off the tip of your nose.

Vincent’s feet felt like lead. He wanted nothing more than to walk away and not look at the gut-wrenching scene, but seeing you bashful and just got to Vincent. He’d give anything to have that be you and him. Give anything to go back to the day he met you and ask you out himself.

“Come on, Candle Head, we need one more person for the strawberry twirly ride thing,” Bo called out, gesturing for Vincent to follow. You turned to Vincent and grinned at him.

“Come on, Vinny!” For you, Vincent would follow. No matter how much it hurts.

[visceraah]

Intrulogical week day 2- Fuse

“I assume your intrusive thoughts are more forceful and rapid today?”

Huh. He usually just said ‘worse’- but that wasn’t technically wrong. “You bet it. They’re going at it hard and fast~”

Logan just sighed, unphased. Remus wondered what was wrong with him. “Would you like a distraction?” Apparently, they’d spent too much time together, as he quickly tacked on, “Of the non-sexual kind.”

AO3

Content warnings: innuendos, graphic descriptions of gore and violence... Remus-typical things. Stay safe.

“Imaging fucking yourself with a stick of dynamite!”

Remus had been spewing comments like this all day, like a headless body spurting waves and waves of blood from its stump neck, and patience was running thin. Or… Thinner.He’d scared everyone off, and the kitchen was his to reign with his weird thoughts and cake batter they’d all assume he fucked- God, you tried something once and suddenly everyone assumed every pastry you cooked was cum-filled.

To his delight, though, one side hadn’t gotten the message. He watched Logan walk in, carefully marking his page with a slip of paper before replying, “I’m assuming you’re referring to a lit stick?”

“You know it~”

“Well, in the past you’ve said ‘anything is a dildo if you’re brave enough’. Technically, you aren’t wrong, but a large, large number of items would be incredibly dangerous to use. As you’re metaphysical, I suppose you’re free to do as you please, but I’d strongly discourage you from doing such a thing.”

Remus cackled at the answer, and normally it’d be enough for him... but he wasn’t done. “Imagine it going off inside you- talk about an explosive orgasm~ and blowing your legs off. All the organs and gore n shit dripping out would kinda look like tentacles! Hey, imagine them coming to life and fucking someone hentai-style…” He didn’t even realise he’d been rambling until Logan was stood next to him, a small frown set on his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better! Yknow, on the topic of dildos, earlier I was looking at the Judas Cradle-”

“A medieval torture device shaped like a triangle, where people would be weighted then placed atop it and torn apart through one of their orifices. Please do not use one.” Logan interrupted him, looking over at Remus in… Concern, it almost looked like. Remus shook his head, sure he was imagining it.

“Reckon it’d be fun.”

Logan reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm. Remus had to force himself not to flinch away. “Pain isn’t fun.”

“I’m sure I could show you otherwise~” Remus offered, somehow managing to wriggle his eyebrows and mustache in unison. It was a feat he was actually quite proud of, even if Logans immediate recoil stung a little. “Think anyone’s ever choked on a dick and died before? Bet they have. Ooh, maybe the guy just kept fuckin into their mouth before realising they were dead. Or maybe they didn’t care!”

He waited for Logans shout of disgust or look of repulsion. Waited for him to just leave. Instead, he heard him ask softly, “I assume your intrusive thoughts are more forceful and rapid today?”

Huh. He usually just said ‘worse’- but that wasn’t technically wrong. “You bet it. They’re going at it hard and fast~”

Logan just sighed, unphased. Remus wondered what was wrong with him. “Would you like a distraction?” Apparently, they’d spent too much time together, as he quickly tacked on, “Of the non-sexual kind.”

Remus, for once, didn't know what to say. He nodded.

He hadn’t thought Logan liked spending much time with him normally, let alone when he was like this.

“Very well… What would you like to do?”

Remus shrugged mutely, so shocked he didn’t even consider his go-to answer of disembowelment. “Would a documentary suffice?” Logan asked softly and, seeing him nod again, lead him over to the couch.

They let themselves be emerged in the documentary, Logan pointing out occasional inaccuracies and Remus giggling at any and all violence or opportunity for a gross comment. At some point, they shifted from opposite ends of the sofa to the middle, curled up against one another. Neither minded.

[headoverhiddles]

You and Me and The Devil Makes 3 - Marilyn Manson x Brian Warner x Reader [Smut] - Part II

Synopsis: Both you and Brian can’t get the substitute teacher off your mind. Thankfully, Brian needs some extra help before an upcoming exam, and your regular teacher still hasn’t come back. 

Notes: Long ass title. Anyway, someone asked for a sequel, so here’s more filthy Mancest ft you! IT’S FILTHY! We could all use the porn. 

Part One 

You bring your lips to your boyfriend’s, lazily making out after an hour of stressing the springs in his mattress. 

A KISS record plays in the corner of his room. The afternoon sun seeps in over the countless Judas Priest and Nine Inch Nails posters all over the walls through the blinds that you’ve kept unturned. Both of you like the thrill of knowing Brian’s Christian neighbors might see you and your “filthy sex acts” again. Barb, Brian’s mother, hadn’t been too pleased after receiving that phone call, but Brian’s dad Hugh found it quite funny.

His parents liked you, called you a sweet girl. They don’t know much about Brian, and they don’t make much of an effort to—they know he’s into some dark music and he has a band, but they don’t know he’s interested in guys too, and they don’t know how far he wants to take his musical persona.

You’re also anything but sweet, but Barb and Hugh are well meaning, and you love them to death, always appreciative of the cake Barb feeds you when you visit the house. You think the two of them have some kind of idea that since Brian is almost finished high school, he’d take you somewhere and settle down with you. Neither of you want to settle down, but as far as either of you have shared, you have no plans of breaking up after grad.

You move your kisses down to Brian’s neck, and he keens under the attention, before reaching up to pull you back to his lips.

“I want you again,” you whisper, and Brian stares up at you.

“We just went four times, you brat.”

“But I’m horny.”

“And I’m soft, roll offa me. Gonna have to… watch some porn or something to get hard again…”

“This is better than porn,” you grin, unhooking your bra, and he pauses in his act of drinking down his bedside water glass, smiling too.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he laughs, and smoothes his hands up your rib cage to cup your breasts and fondle them. You lean down to drag them against his bare chest, and his hands move down to once again get himself ready to fuck again.

“So. We gonna talk about what happened on Friday?”

Brian’s breath hitches as he jacks himself to hardness again. “Do you want to?”

“I certainly think it raises some new… things, that we’re both obviously into.” Brian flushes a little, and you grin, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Hey. You know you can be comfy with me.”

Brian nods, thrusting up into you finally with a hiss. “It was hot… the stuff he did.”

“I know,” you breathe, shuddering as you slide back down over him, “I just wanted the two of you to double team me forever.”

“So is this a thing, then?” Brian whispers, “Like, a third person?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, “We could explore a polyamorous relationship. But for now, I’m okay with secret threesomes involving hot teachers.”

“You think he’s still there?”  

“I think before he left on Friday, he mentioned he’d be around for another week. Mrs. Nordman wasn’t just hungover, she had the flu or something. Why?”

“I mean… we’ve got that English exam coming up soon.”

You smile. “We could use the extra help, hm?” He groans at that, pushing up into you harder, and you tilt your head back, riding him into his bed.

---

At school on Monday, you meet Brian at the front doors. He’s standing with Daisy, waiting for his friend to finish smoking, and doodling something on his hand. You see it’s a bunch of needles and lollipops.

“You know, you should’ve been an artist,” you smile, taking his hand.

“I am an artist. Different kind.”

Pogo approaches, swinging himself up onto the railing. “Morning, you sad fucks. How’re the losers today?”

“Depressed,” Daisy answers.

“Good to hear. I myself am in a fucking marvelous mood, seeing as I banged not one, not two-- but THREE chicks this weekend at a college tit party. THE MAD CLOWN HITS HOME AGAIN!” He lets loose his usual flurry of crazy laughter, the sound that could tell anybody the bald student was coming from a mile away.

“How’d you manage that?” Brian mutters, amused.

“Sorry, Mr. Big Dick, some girls have refined taste, unlike (y/n) or Mr. Manson in there, don’t argue, I know you fucked him.” He pauses his manic rocking, leaning forward. “I also told them I was in a wildly successful rock band.”

“There’s the kicker,” you nod.

“I did not fuck Mr. Manson,” Brian protests. Everyone turns to look at him, and he smirks your way. “He fucked me.” Laughter erupts.

“No smoking on school property, you goth weirdos,” some kiss-ass cheerleader snaps as she walks past, and Pogo catapults Brian’s pen at her head.

“We’re gonna be late, hurry up.” Brian nudges Daisy.

“This is my last one, and I’m too broke to afford another pack until I get my next paycheck,” Daisy complains, savouring another drag.

“Here, lemme have a puff,” Pogo says, motioning for it. Daisy passes it over, and Pogo flicks it into the grass, pulling everyone inside. “Problem solved!”  

You giggle as Daisy shakes his head, and all of you turn when you hear screaming. There’s Jeordie, running toward the school like an idiot.

“I’m gonna make it! I’m gonna make it!” he’s shouting, then the bell goes. He tosses his backpack to the ground, kicking it. “SHIT!”

---

It’s an uneventful Monday, until the last class. When you get in and sit down, Mr. Manson is at the front of the class already, writing the day’s class plan out. Today, he’s dressed in a black button up, with a black vest over top of black pants. His hair is brushed back in a fairly respectable style, and… he turns around. His lips today are a soft coral pink, with black and blue eyeshadow. Brian stares at him, in awe once again at the man’s swaggering confidence and style. Why is it that with bisexuality, it’s always a question of if he wanted to be the other guy, or be in the other guy? Or have the guy in him, as the case may be.                                                

“Alright. Before we start, does anyone have any questions about today’s makeup?” Manson’s tone is playful, and a light titter of laughter comes from the students. He grins. “Alright. You sure?” More laughter. “Okay. Today, we’ll be covering a new chapter of literary theory, and applying it to the first act of Hamlet.”

His dark eyes sweep the classroom as he marks off attendance, and when they come to rest on you, he looks up. “Is there a reason why you and Miss (y/l/n) were late today, Mr. Warner?” Your entire friend group looks at the two of you. Your boyfriend just shrugs. 

“Yeah, there was a reason.” You raise an eyebrow right back with a smirk, and Brian leaves it at that. You’re surprised when Manson accepts this without a cheeky little order to see him after class, but that’s fine. Brian has an excuse to see him anyway.

While Mr. Manson is talking, Brian writes out some lyrics for a new song he and the Spooky Kids have been working on. He nudges you, and taps the paper, which has a verse written out.

VCRs and Vaseline

TV fucked by plastic queens

Cash in hand and dick on screen

(who said god was ever clean)

He’s drawn a big question mark under it, so you give a little check mark on the paper, with the note:

Hot.

“I know this shit is boring, but pay attention,” Manson says from the front of the classroom, glaring daggers at you two. 

“Imagine that lipstick all over my naked body,” you whisper in his ear. Brian glares at you.

“Stop trying to get me hard in class.”

“Why?” you tease.

“Cause it’s fucking working.”

“Do you one of you guys have an eraser?” Jeordie whispers (far too loudly) from behind you. You pass him back yours, and look at him sternly.

“Don’t pick it apart like you did all my other ones.” 

“What did I just say?” Manson snaps from the front of the class.

“We were just—!” you try to protest.

“No talking. Last warning.”

You and Brian exchange looks. He’s in a mood today, and you can’t wait to see how the two of you can test him even more after class.

When the class is finished, you all wait until the rest of the students are gone. Pogo looks back at you two from the door, making obscene blow job gestures. Mr. Manson doesn’t look up from the desk.

“Did you need something, Mr. Bier?”

“Not me!” Pogo snickers, dashing off to go catch up with Daisy and Jeordie.

“Mr. Manson?” Brian asks, “I need a little bit of help with studying for the upcoming exam. I dedicate a lot of time to my band, and… don’t study as much as I should.”

“Mm. And (y/n)? You just gonna watch your boyfriend... ask for help?” Manson asks. 

“I might learn a few things too, by sticking around,” you say, and lean forward against your desk. Manson’s eyes roam down to your cleavage, and he closes his book, getting up. He walks over to the door, locks it, and comes back over.

“The English exam. Yeah. As you know, I don’t know much about your curriculum, or really, about the exam itself.” 

“Doesn’t mean you can’t try to help us out,” you say. “Please sir? We really need help.” Mr. Manson looks at you, blue and black shadow making his hooded eyes seem supernatural.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Brian walks over to his desk, chin jutted out in confidence that will be lost as soon as Manson looks him in the eye. Sure enough, when the substitute gives your boyfriend one of his looks up and down, sweeping his entire body as if he’s a meal about to be devoured, Brian shudders. But he’s not about to lose his cool.

“See… I don’t get the whole psychoanalytic theory,” Brian says, putting the book down in front of Mr. Manson, “I don’t see how it applies to Hamlet.”

“Of course you pick the Freudian thing.” He sighs. “Well first, you have to understand psychoanalysis.” Manson looks over to you pointedly. “I’m sure you know all about Freud and his phallic symbols. You two had a lot of fun drawing them on your notes last Friday.” 

Brian laughs a little at that. Wrong move. Manson gets up, and in one quick stride, he has your boyfriend pushed down and bent over the desk, ass up.

“What the fuck?” Brian mutters, but you can hear the whine at the end of his protest. Your legs rub together as your finger grazes your lower lip… you want to see how this turns out.

“Here’s what I’m gonna do,” Manson says slowly, “I’m gonna help you two, since you fuck around in class all the time and never pay attention.” He leans in close to Brian, and your boyfriend glares up at him for holding him in such a vulnerable position. Manson just smirks, and gets out a ruler from the desk. “Our angel over there is gonna answer some questions of mine, baby. Got it?”

“What do you—?” A sharp slap echoes, as Manson hits the desk with the ruler hard.

“You say yes sir, and no sir, or this desk will be that pretty little ass. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Brian breathes, laying his face down on the desk. You raise an eyebrow, spreading your legs just a bit.

“You really have enough confidence in me that I know these answers?” you grin.

“Nah. I’m counting on you not knowing a single one, baby girl,” Manson smiles, and traces the ruler up Brian’s back. “But try your best. He’s counting on you.” Manson gets the ruler ready again. "Tell me what the basis of psychoanalytic theory is."

"It's a theory that draws from psychoanalyzing the behavior of the characters in the... in the story," you say, eyes trained on Brian.

"Good start," Manson nods, rubbing his hand up Brian's back, "Saved you this time, sweetheart." Brian makes a noise, akin to a moan, and Manson looks at you again, expectantly, from the depths of that eyeshadow. "What are some examples?"

"There's... a response to modern day literature from a new and improved perspective."

"Wrong," Manson says, "That's postmodernism." 

“Aw. Guess that must’ve slipped my mind.” You shift in your seat, reaching down to touch yourself. Manson sees this out of the corner of his eye, and lifts his chin. 

"Mr. Warner?"

Brian obediently pulls down his leggings just enough. Not satisfied with this, Manson pulls them down to his knobby knees, and hits him hard with the ruler. Brian's hips rut against the desk, and your pussy clenches as you rub faster circles.

"Again, sir," Brian whimpers.

"You want another one?" Manson asks.

"Yes, sir."

"(y/n)... your boy here's a bit of a slut."

"I'd have to agree," you grin, head rolling back as a moan is drawn from your throat.

"I guess I should know that by now. Have you ever tried fucking him?"

Brian's breath hitches, and you think about this. "He's never asked."

"Imagine how that'd feel, hm?" the teacher whispers in Brian's ear, "Her fingers inside of you... filling you up. You like that?"

"Fuck, fuck," Brian groans, hips pushing forward against the desk. He's painfully hard.

"Gonna cum in your pants?” Manson rasps.

“No...” Brian clenches his jaw. “Ugh...”

“What if she fucked you with three fingers? Spreading this perfect ass wide open?" he continues to tease, snarling, "What if I did? You like the pain, don't you? It turns you on." Manson spanks him again, harder, and you can see the red imprint he’s left.

"Yeah..." Brian moans, his usual grumble raising in pitch. "I want you both to fuck me."

"First, you get to watch." Mr. Manson looks over to you, and beckons. You make a show of teasing back, mouthing 'me?' Before Manson has a chance to threaten, you stand, walking over to the teacher. He stands a full few feet taller than you, the height difference still as hot as it was in the washroom the other day. He takes you by the shoulders, and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is sloppy and heated. You moan, sliding your hand down to cup his cock through his black slacks. You can feel the hefty erection respond to your touch, but you want to feel it inside you, fucking you. Brian watches, and reaches down to give himself some relief. 

"Ah ah," you break away from the kiss to say, "Someone's being naughty." Brian shoots you a glare for ratting him out, and you blow your boyfriend a kiss as Manson turns to look at him.

"Do I have to tie you up, baby boy? Or can you stop those hands from wandering, hmm?" Hearing that in Manson's deep growl is such a turn on. You pull him back to you.

"Let him stay like that. If you spank him again, he's gonna cum all over the desk."

"Disgusting," Manson chastises, licking his lips, "Filthy filthy, Mr. Warner."

"At least I didn't take out my cock in class and start stroking it for you to see," Brian mouths off.

"I'm sure you would've loved to do that," you smirk, going back to stroking Mr. Manson through his pants.

"Mm. Yeah. Bet you would’ve loved to take it out, show everyone how hard you were. How ready you were for your girlfriend and your fucking teacher to take turns on you.”

"I..." Brian groans.

"Use your words, slut."

"Yeah," he breathes, "I might... I don't know, get embarrassed, but--"

"Sluts don't get embarrassed," Manson says sharply. "Besides, as a big rock and roll singer, I'd imagine that you do much worse onstage. Or am I wrong?”

“Tell him all the shit you've done onstage," you moan.

Brian shifts his hips, recalling everything he'd done during a show. Mr. Manson was right-- when he was onstage, it was as if he became a different person. A persona. Someone darker, maniacal even. Someone who's willing to do anything.

"I've fucked (y/n) onstage," he growls. "Fucked her til her tight little cunt couldn't take it anymore."

Mr. Manson takes his cock out of his pants, starts stroking it himself as you lay back on a desk in front of him. You watch his cockhead disappear in his fist with every stroke, licking your lips. 

"What else?"

"I stripped her down naked in front of everyone... and ate her pussy."

"Oh god," you whine, picturing that night. You had both been so high you had forgotten there was even an audience. 

"That must have felt good." Manson looks to you.

"It did. It did, and I love it," you murmur, glancing down to your exposed breasts, "Just like him. I wanna be filled by you, sir. Just like Brian fills me up."

Brian rolls his hips against the desk as Mr. Manson slots himself between your legs, dragging his cock between the folds of your pussy. "So fuckin' wet. It'll be so easy to get into you, baby girl."

"Please, Mr. Manson," you moan, “I need you.”

"Fuck her," Brian gasps out, "She's such a fucking cockslut, she needs it." You nod. Manson reaches his hand up to cup one of your breasts as he slides in, filling you to the hilt. 

"Oh god," you manage out, hands grabbing at the edges of the small desk. Manson’s cock isn’t as long as Brian’s, but it’s thicker, so thick you can feel the pain of the stretch. 

"Fuck," Brian whines, watching Manson pull out almost fully then pound back into you. He’s frustrated—he can’t touch himself, and his cock is heavy and weeping against the desk. He could cum from any little touch at this point.

"If you even think about touching your cock, the punishment will be unimaginable," Manson growls to your brat of a boyfriend. Brian groans in complaint, resting his head against the desk as he continues to rock his hips and watch. "Tell me more about how you fuck (y/n)," Manson says, thrusting in hard. The desk skids back a couple of inches, and you gasp. "Ah, nope. The principal could still walk by, baby girl. Don't want him to hear the three of us acting out our own little porno, do you?"

"No, sir."

"No. That's right. Mr. Warner? You were saying?" 

"I fuck her all the time," Brian says, words tumbling out of his mouth as he loses his grip. "We fuck between classes, before class, after class. She always wants my dick.”

"Yeah?" Mr. Manson asks, humming low in his chest. "Seems like you just can't get satisfied baby, hm?"

"I get satisfied," you reply, grinding your hips down obscenely, "I just love his cock so much that I want it all the time. I love feeling full."

"Why don't we make good and sure you're nice and full then?" Manson beckons Brian over, not stopping his thrusts for a second. Brian’s surprised for a moment that he gets to move or do anything, but quickly complies. Manson’s belt jangles as he grunts, balls slapping your ass. "Give our baby girl a mouthful."

Your eyes light up, and Brian's lips quirk up. He loves watching you get used, and being a part of it is almost too much for him. He stands, and gets over top of your face, willing himself not to blow the minute he pushes between your pretty pink lips.

"Lemme see that nice cock, baby boy," Manson rasps. His breath hitches when Brian strokes his fist all the way up the length, over the head, and back down. "Mmm, perfect. Give her some, she looks thirsty."

"Take it, baby," Brian whispers, biting his lip as he smacks his cock against your lips, "C'mon, you know you want it."

"You know her safe word?" Manson mutters. Brian nods. You open wide for your boyfriend, and he slides his cock into your mouth, stopping before it hits the back of your throat. He raises his eyebrows down to you, and you nod again, feverishly. It's almost too much, the older man fucking you into the desk so hard and your boyfriend using your mouth to get off. But you love the thrill, and you're getting closer to your climax every second.

"You're doing so good," Mr. Manson says to you, stroking down your pelvic bone to caress your stomach, your clit, down to your inner thighs. Your hips buck. "Shhh. Taking us so good, sweetheart."

"Isn't it "so well?' You are an English teacher, right?" Brian asks, grinning. Mr. Manson shoots him a look daring to go any further with that. Brian knows his place, casting his eyes downward.

"You like to piss people off, don’t you?" Manson asks.

"Yeah. It's part of my, uh... my thing."

"Your thing right now is to quit being a smart ass, fuck your girlfriend's mouth, and do what your told."

Brian sucks his cheekbones in, biting his bottom lip hard as he feels his cock throb. "Yes, sir!" He gives a sarcastic mock salute with a big dumb grin, and that does it.

"Back over the desk."

"What?!" Brian's eyebrows furrow angrily.

"You heard me. Get back. Over. The desk. Now."

Brian whines, and removes himself from your mouth. As he's walking back over though, the fearless streak continues. He fondles Mr. Manson's bare ass as he walks by, clucking his tongue. "Damn, daddy. Great ass, for an old man."

You smirk, knowing it'll get a rise out of the teacher. But he just goes back to fucking you-- albeit much faster.

"Oh... oh yeah. Oh god," you hiss, trying still to keep it as quiet as possible. Mr. Manson's short black hair falls from his coiffed mohawk and into his eyes as he starts to get close. "I'm gonna fucking cum," you moan, tits bouncing in your bra. Manson pushes in one more time, and you cum hard on his cock, mouth falling open.

He pulls out of you when you're finished, and Brian comes over, kneeling down and taking Mr. Manson's cock into his mouth. He suckles for a few seconds, then takes him down all the way as the older man shudders, buries his fingers into your boyfriend's hair, and cums down his throat. Brian swallows, blinking up at the teacher, and Mr. Manson looks down at him, at the teenager’s painfully swollen cock resting on his thigh. 

"You've been a good boy," he mumbles, “Helped daddy cum. I think you deserve something.” Brian's eyes flutter shut, and Manson strokes his cheek. With a gasp from the touch alone, Brian suddenly cums untouched all over his leg and the floor. You watch him convulse through every wave of his orgasm, then rest back on his hands when he finishes. 

Manson sits on the edge of his desk, and you stand, helping Brian clean up. He runs a hand through his long black hair, and fiddles his tongue against his lip ring.

"You know... you should come check out the Spooky Kids in concert sometime."

Manson runs a hand through his hair, making sure he looks his best-- comfortably disheveled. "Your band?" 

"Yeah. You were in a band yourself, weren't you?" Brian smirks. 

“Yeah.”

"As long as you bring some good, uh... you know, nose candy-- gotta make the sacrificial offerings to the band-- then feel free to show up."

“He doesn’t do nose candy, bring some ring pops and lollipops and that’ll be more than sufficient,” you say, rolling your eyes. 

“What makes you think I've got drugs on me anyway?" Manson deadpans. "I'm a fuckin' high school English teacher." Brian stares at the debauched man with lipstick smeared down his chin and hair standing up from all angles. Manson bursts into what can only be described as giggles. "Yeah. Well, I’m not about to give my drugs away to a group of 18 year old musicians. Then you’d turn out just like me.” 

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Brian teases, tugging slightly at the silver skull brooch on Manson’s lapel. Manson strokes his knuckles.

“If I'm still in town, I'll see if I can make it to a show. You seem like you’d be good. Like you’ve got rock star in your blood.” It’s as if Brian’s whole body blushes—it’s freaking cute you think, as you fix your hair. “--But only if I get to come backstage with the rest of the groupies." 

"Oh," you smile, approaching  to fix Mr. Manson’s black tie, "We'll be waiting for you."  

“Who else is in this band?” Manson asks out of curiosity. “Anyone else from this class?”

“Stephen, Scott, Jeordie. Another kid named Freddy, doesn’t go here.”

“Bier is crazy enough to be in a band, I’d believe that. Putesky, that’s interesting. He doesn’t seem the type. He seems like he’d be the type to yell at people like you to turn the music down.”

 Brian nods, “Yeah, we tell him that all the time. He looks like someone’s grandpa. He shreds on the guitar, though, you’d be surprised. So does Jeordie.”

Manson huffs, getting his bag together, “Jeordie? That doesn’t surprise me as much.” The substitute teacher lets you two out of the classroom, and checks the time. 4 PM now. “Well. I hope you feel ready for the exam. I didn’t do shit to help you, but...” 

“We got what we needed to,” you say, fixing your skirt with a small smile.

“Good. Cause I think you’ve got a pretty good idea of what’ll happen if you get a fuckin’ F.”  

[forkanna]

[AO3] [WATTPAD]

WARNING: Continued transphobia.

So I did try to put this up sooner, due to cilffhanger feelings, but didn't quite manage it. Hopefully you all forgive me!

------------

Rise couldn't believe the level of disaster her life had reached. And all because she couldn't keep her mouth shut. Because by the time she had finished crying, scraping herself together and sending the shambles that had once been a lovesick fool back into the school, she knew exactly where the leak had occurred. Plugging that would have to be the first step. And then…

Then what would she do? Beg Ai to take her back? She took out the note, stared at it, and almost threw it in the nearest receptacle. But that wouldn't do. No… she had to hang onto hope that there was still time.

"I got this," she whispered to herself as she used the note to wipe her eyes, smearing her makeup. "I'll do my best." Fine but empty sentiment. She had to take things one step at a time.

And step one was…

                                                   ~ o ~

"CHIE!"

The bowl-cut-hair had barely stopped whirling around Chie's head from turning to face Rise when she was hit in the face, full force, with a bookbag. The blow knocked her from her chair in the Junes food court and she went sprawling to the ground.

"WHOA!" Yosuke burst out in sheer alarm. "Hey, wait a minute there, Rise-chan! Where's the fire?!"

"You wanna know who's fired? SHE'S fired, that's who!"

Still struggling to sit up, Chie looked a little silly with a bag-print reddening half of her face. "Wha… whahidme?"

"Rise, what is the meaning of this?" Yukiko gasped in exasperation as she crouched over her girlfriend, trying to help her up. "Are you upset about something?"

It took real, concentrated effort not to snap at Yukiko, as well — especially given the Captain Obvious question she had just asked. But she knew she was only trying to be kind, to look after all of her friends equally. So she bit back the scathing retort and focused on the situation at hand instead.

"I'm upset about a lot of things, every day. But this time it's because somebody doesn't understand what a secret is!"

"Me?!" Chie intuited. "Are you- hey, I'm no snitch! Wait, what secret are we… talking…"

The food court went silent. Which was partly because it was too early for dinner, so they were the only ones there, not talking to each other. Rise idly noticed it seemed like Teddie and Kanji were absent, but she was on a mission; she didn't have time to worry about their whereabouts.

Finally… "Oh."

"So you got it? Huh? You figured out how you just screwed everything up?!"

"Now just wait a whole second, okay?" Chie said in a slightly nervous tone as she began to struggle to her feet. "I didn't say- I mean, like, I just figured it came out! Right? Because it's a secret, and this is a small town, and like, c'mon!"

"Who did you tell?"

"I didn't tell anyb-"

"NO! No, don't give me any of that crap, because we both know you had to have told someone — you already told at least one other person! I didn't tell anybody else! So who was it?"

"It… it doesn't matter!" Chie was trying to hedge with a hopeful smile. "Really, like I said, it was gonna come out sometime! Do you really think Ebihara could hide that forever? Like, he's kinda snowing the whole school…"

"Shut up!" Rise snapped, as Yukiko covered her mouth with her hand in alarm at the sharp tone. "That wasn't your choice, okay? And like I said, if I didn't tell, and Ai-chan for fucking sure didn't tell, then there's only one person it could be! Because I-"

"Oh dear," Yukiko whispered.

"Hey! I didn't commit any crime!" Chie shot back, starting to get heated herself now as she clenched her fists. "Tell that to the drag queen you've been hanging around with — he's the one that's gonna catch hell if they figure out he's been using girls' bathrooms and stuff! He should at least tell us if he wants to-"

"It's my fault."

Rise was still shouting when she turned to Yukiko. "What?! I mean…" She cleared her throat, tried to take the volume down a notch. "What?"

"Chie told me. When we were… well, when we were alone, because we're best friends. As you know, because we have already discussed things… so I was the beginning of the problem. I'm sorry."

"Yuka…" Chie sighed, grimacing. Clearly, at some point she had realised what had happened, and shifted her tactic to protecting her significant other. Rise would have respected it… if they weren't both going to be on her list now. At least that cleared up the true reason Yukiko had gasped; it was a sound of recognition.

"Really? You?" Rise said, completely betrayed. And disappointed; that much must have been readily apparent, because the innkeeper hung her head in shame.

"Yes. And Chie was so conversational about it, I… didn't realise… you seem very upset about all the rumours that have started going around now. Did we… have we done something wrong?"

Rise let out an exasperated noise. "Are you kidding? Of COURSE you did!" In the back of her mind, she knew she was basically just coming down on them to sidestep the blame Ai had thrown her way, but she couldn't stop; they had to pay for ruining everything. Someone had to, and she couldn't face herself. Not at the moment. "Do you have any idea what life would be like for her if they figured out for sure?!"

"Dude, who cares?" Chie tried to tell her reasonably. "Remember when we found out about Naoto? We're all cool! So what if she's a chick instead of a dude, or Ai's a dude instead of a chick?"

"U-um, I prefer you leave me out of this discussion," Naoto said in a quiet undertone. "If that's alright."

Throwing up her hands in surrender, Rise began to pace back and forth as she said, "This is unbelievable. I really didn't think confiding in one friend… well, I guess I should ask who you told, Yukiko."

Rise was too observant to miss the glance between her and none other than Yosuke. The boy gulped when she turned her glare on him, holding up both hands in front of his chest.

"N-now, let's be reasonable here. Just a second while I explain-"

"UGH! Did everybody here play a part in this?!" No answers. Rise groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay, well… I guess I'm going to be eating a whole big plate of crow later. If she even talks to me."

"Don't be so dramatic," Chie sighed as she rolled her eyes, hands on her hips now. "You're friends, you'll bounce back before you know it!"

But the idol was already shaking her head before she even finished. "You didn't see how mad she was. I'm… I'll see you later."

"But you just got here," Yukiko protested in a pleading voice, taking a step toward her. "I'm sorry we didn't understand the situation, but do you really have to go?"

"Yes. Got a lot of thinking to do."

As Rise headed toward the elevator, she passed Kanji coming from it. He smiled and waved and asked, "What's up?"

"Ask our Judas friends."

"Huh?!" He got no answer to his question. As the doors slid shut, she thought she could just barely hear him say, "Man, chicks sure are crazy," but it was too late for her to attack him since she was already heading downstairs. Oh well; there was always next time for him to pay for his crime against her gender.

                                                  ~ o ~

That was on her mind a lot as she lay in bed that night, staring up at her ceiling. Gender. Sexuality. The differences between men and women. How those lines could be blurred right in front of her eyes and she had no idea. And when she wasn't thinking about that, she was thinking about…

Why didn't she realize she shouldn't have told Chie? Theoretically, she should have been able to confide in her and everything be fine — and she also knew none of her friends really intended to hurt anyone. They were just careless. But now she could see with sobering clarity that carelessness still had consequences. Would Ai really have to transfer again, just because the secret got out?

Something that made her blood run cold whenever she thought of it: that comment about guys beating her up. Just because she used the women's bathroom? When she thought of it as a man sneaking in there, she supposed that made sense. Most guys would do that to protect any women from being harmed. But she had gone to the bathroom alongside Ai plenty of times — enough to know that she never did anything in there except her business, and preen in front of the mirror. At least she had found a way to prove to those nosy girls that she was all woman.

Even if it was a lie, technically speaking. Which confused Rise so much she just wound up stuffing her head underneath her pillow.

All her texts went unanswered, of course. She had expected that. Somehow, she still couldn't help herself and sent a grand total of seven before she manually turned off her phone to reduce the temptation.

The worst part of all? Now she couldn't talk to any of her friends about it, either. That was what got her into this fix in the first place! So all she could do was panic, wallow, and panic again.

                                                  ~ o ~

If Rise had thought the previous day was unpleasant, Tuesday definitely counted as a catastrophe.

"Oh my God," she overheard a girl muttering as she walked in through the front gates. "Can you believe she would ever look like that?"

Unfortunately, she only had a few minutes of blissful peace to have no idea what they were talking about. The minute she reached into her locker to get her indoor shoes, she felt the glossy paper on top of them. Withdrawing it, she felt her heart sink when she saw her own face.

A goofy face indeed. There was nothing particularly wrong with the picture; she had been trying on dresses in Croco Fur and was sticking her tongue out with her finger up her nose, obviously making the stupid face for the camera. Nothing incriminating, just vaguely embarrassing. However…

Everyone seemed to have a copy. No matter which way she looked, every single student of Yasogami seemed to have a glossy paper in their hands. Rise felt her face begin to heat up. She had done nothing wrong, and the picture wasn't that bad, but seeing the entire student body laughing at her brought on the reaction regardless.

"Wow, this is hilarious," some guy was saying as she headed to class. "Thought Risette was so cool but she's actually dumb. Look at this! Her finger's in her nose, gross!"

"I think it's cute," his friend said. "She's having fun."

But another guy in glasses standing nearby just sighed and rolled his eyes. "You plebs. Obviously this is just another publicity stunt orchestrated by her management. She probably distributed them herself."

The idol stormed into the room before she had to hear any more. Did they really think she had nothing better to do than print off a bunch of pictures of herself and throw them all over the place?!

"Uh, hey."

She looked up, ready to ream the speaker, when she saw a chagrined looking Kanji standing there, scratching the back of his head. "May I help you? Or am I too crazy?"

His weak chuckle spoke volumes. "Heard that, huh? Sorry… I just didn't know what to say when you snapped at me. Guys filled me in after you left."

"What? You mean the way you all stabbed me in the back by gossiping about my girlf- my new friend?" Damn. She would have to be more careful about that.

"Hey, I didn't do that shit," the tall, dangerous looking boy grunted with his arms folded over his barrel chest. Sometimes Rise forgot just how intimidating Kanji was to most people, because they knew him better than that now. He was a big teddy bear under that yakuza-esque exterior. "Yosuke was the real problem, I guess. He was talking about it to Naoto, and wasn't paying attention to who was around them. Bunch of people overheard. And Naoto didn't say shit to anybody, so don't blame her!"

Rise sighed. Unsurprising that he was so defensive of her, since his crush ran so deep. "Fine. So it's Chie and Yukiko's fault a little bit, and as usual, Yosuke's fault a lot. At least they're the same old idiots they've always been."

Kanji nodded with another grunt. "So… what's with the photo?"

"Ughhhhhhhh."

                                                  ~ o ~

The way Ai was standing at the edge of the school roof, gazing over Inaba, almost made it look like she was lying in wait for Rise when she got there. Probably because she was — and had been since the start of lunch. The popstar shoved the glossy page in front of her face.

"Well? What exactly is this supposed to mean?"

"Mean? Why, I don't know. Isn't that your picture? Aren't you supposed to be the one who knows?"

"You took this. I literally remember you taking it, with your phone, not mine. So why would you go to all this trouble to print up a dumb picture?"

Ai's smirk was practically demonic as she looked sideways at her without fully turning. The worst part was that she still was as beautiful as ever, even when being an asshole. "A beginning. By the time I'm through with you, you will be begging me to stop, and I won't. I won't stop until you feel the way I did yesterday."

"Right. So this is a really pathetic beginning to a revenge plot?"

"Hah! Good try. Have you forgotten how much abuse I've weathered over my entire lifetime? You're going to have to do better than that to undercut me."

"Ai, you don't have to do this," she pleaded in a quieter voice. "This is nowhere near what I wanted, I still don't want it. I made a mistake, and I'm sorry, but attacking me like this isn't going to-"

She fell silent when Ebihara actually yawned. Her anger flared, and her eyes narrowed to slits as her fists curled tight. "That's your pitch? 'Whoops, I outed you and almost ruined your life, hugs'? Lame."

"Fine," Rise hissed. "I guess this didn't mean anything to you at all. Throw it all away because you're butthurt. Whatever."

"That's why I'm doing it, you idiot." Now her aloof tone had dropped to absolute zero. "Because it did — it meant everything in a way you will never understand. And now I feel stupid for trusting you, because you broke it. Don't go acting all high and mighty and trying to play the sympathy card."

Rise's eyes were watering as she tried to come up with something to say. The bratty side of her personality wanted to swear her own revenge, that she would make things even worse for Ai… but she knew she wouldn't be able to live with that. Besides, it was the wrong move, regardless of what her friend…

Regardless of what her ex-friend had done. It was really over. And figuring that out took all the wind out of her sails.

"Okay. Bye."

"That's it?" Ai chuckled harshly as the idol turned away, walking toward the stairwell. "Wow, you're usually so much chattier. You had better thicken up that skin, Kujikawa, or the next few days are going to be pretty unbearable!"

They really would. Just not for the reason Ai thought. Mourning the end of something beautiful tended to put a damper on one's week.

                                                  To Be Continued…

[vincess-princess]

What Is Lost, What Is Found

Chapter 4.

Word count: 3344 Trigger warnings: none

The next time Tommy came accompanied. Vince followed him into the store. The contrast between the two was so drastic no one could imagine them hanging out together. The blond surfing star in spotlessly white pants couldn’t belong near a ragged, long-haired disaster that Tommy was.

Vince headed directly towards Mick. Tommy lingered behind, avoiding his gaze. Mick gripped the edge of the counter so tight his knuckles went white. He wasn’t that nervous even during any job interview. He wasn’t that nervous with Tommy as well; talking to him was easy, in a way. He was open, childish and eager to please, always curious and ashamed of it, and so talkative Mick only had to sprinkle the conversation with “yes”s and “wow”s. Vince, on the other hand, was a tougher nut to crack. Mick had to be careful.

“Couldn’t imagine that I’d come back here,” Vince said, looked Mick right in the eyes and flashing a smile. “But I’m ready to do everything possible to listen to some good music. Everything, sir.” He smiled again. Mick didn’t like this smile. There was something daring in it.

“Today’s “everything possible” includes sorting out records, washing the floor and dusting the shelves. Whatever you choose.”

“Oh,” Vince let out a hearty laugh, “sir, I don’t wanna work. Can I get it for a smile? Or dancing, maybe? I’m a good dancer.”

Vince stepped forward and leaned onto the counter, his face unnervingly close to Mick’s.

“No, thanks. You can dance your heart out after you do some work,” Mick suggested. “Some real work, I mean.”

“What about singing, then? I’m a good singer as well. Tommy can confirm. Right, Tommy?”

Tommy’s been standing behind Vince and staring at the ground the whole time. He flinched, startled when hearing his name. When Mick looked at him, he started nervously messing with his hair.

“Right,” he said quietly.

Vince put his elbows on the counter and leaned over it. Now his and Mick’s faces were mere inches away. Mick could feel the faint smell of his cologne – something flowery. He wouldn’t expect any other slum kid to wear cologne, but Mick would be more surprised if Vince didn’t wear it. For him, it was just in character.

“Maybe I could offer you something else,” Vince whispered and bit his lip, and Mick couldn’t help but recoil. It finally downed on him what was going on.

They were checking him.

Mick backed down so fast he almost dropped his chair to the floor. A wave of anger mixed with disgust once again washed over him, leaving. Who taught the kid to behave like this? What perverted mind would ever teach him? And why? “Listen, kid, I’m not your lay in some nightclub-“

“Why not?” Vince interrupted him. He smiled again, but this time it wasn’t pretty. It was defying.

“How old are you, fifteen?” Mick said, looking above Vince’s shoulder - at Tommy. The boy was red as a lobster and tried to hide his face in his hair. “I’ll be gentle and say you’re not my type – like any other minor. Now, I’m by no means an altruist. I’m not offering free music to anyone - only in exchange for a job well done. If you don’t wanna work, why are you here?”

“Tommy sang you such praises I decided to check you out as well,” Vince replied. His defying smile disappeared, but Mick could see his shoulders relax. Somehow he knew that he passed the test, or whatever they had come up with. He really shouldn’t have felt that relieved. Stupid kids with their stupid games!

“And what do you think?” Mick asked. “Our first impressions of each other might be a little biased.”

“And what do you think of me, sir?” Vince tilted his head, smiling slyly.

Mick sighed. “You’re one sleazy motherfucker.”

Vince stared at him for a few seconds and then burst into laughter. Tommy finally raised his head, looking at Vince with confusion, as though asking, what’s so funny about it? Mick knew he would never tell that to Tommy – it would hurt him rather than amuse. Vince, however, was a completely different case.

“You have your ways,” Mick continued once Vince stopped laughing, “but I’m immune to them. If you wanna listen to some records, that pile over there needs sorting. If not, then get out of my store.”

“You’re not very polite to your future employees, aren’t you?”

“Records, boy. They are waiting for you.”

Vince smiled again, but this time Mick actually liked it. It wasn’t sly, it wasn’t defying, it wasn’t a mask Vince put on to hide his actual intentions. This time, it was excited – like a music-loving kid should be when faced with such a chance.

“Okay, okay, boss, I’m on my way already.”

Mick and Tommy looked at him until he disappeared behind a shelf. Then Mick caught Tommy’s eye and winked. Tommy smiled, at first unconfidently, swiftly switching it to a happy beaming, and winked back.

“Hey, boss,” Vince called Mick a few minutes later. He approached, only to see Vince sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded with stacks of vinyls, holding two records in his hands. “Kiss or New York Dolls”?

“Neither,” Mick shook his head. “What do you young people find in New York Dolls? They’re hardly bearable to hear.”

“Mick!” Tommy gasped behind him and dropped the mop. It landed on his feet with a loud smack. “How dare you!”

“Sir, you barely look twenty-five, you still qualify as a young person,” Vince grinned. The motherfucker knew how to compliment.

“I’m older than you think,” Mick only said. The boy’s words weren’t far from the truth. Mick wasn’t even that old, even though his body tried to prove him otherwise his entire life. His own twenty-five seemed even farther away than it actually was. “And don’t call me ‘sir’.”

“Mick, then?” Vince smiled. “That feels way more intimate, you know?”

Mick opened his mouth, looked into Vince’s innocent eyes, closed it, sighed and went back to the counter. “Put on your dolls, or what they’re called,” he said from there. “I don’t care.”

He heard Tommy fiercely whispering “Don’t put them on! Get some Jeff Beck, Mick likes him.” And then, in Vince’s typical Californian drawl, “But Jeff Beck is so-o out-of-date”. Tommy said something again, now unintelligibly. Mick heard some movement from behind the shelves. “Hey, that hurts!” Vince exclaimed.

Then Jeff Beck started playing.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I told you kids, put on your dolls or kisses or whatever!” Mick shouted. Jeff Beck stopped playing. Some more movement and hissing behind the shelves, and then Vince’s blonde head showed up above them.

“Maybe we could make a compromise?” he said, in that sweet voice of his that eliminated any attempt to disagree with its owner. “There surely are bands we both enjoy. How about Sweet?”

“Pop music with a rock n’ roll pretension.”

“Judas Priest?”

“They’re all gay as hell out there.”

“Cheap Trick?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Aerosmith?”

“Which album?”

“Toys in the attic.”

Mick spent a second or two mulling over the suggestion. If he keeps rejecting, they won’t listen to any music at all. “Okay,” he said then.

“See?” Vince turned to Tommy. “That works!”

“Maybe,” Tommy still was unconvinced. His desire to please Mick was both complimenting and disturbing. “Mick, are you sure you’re okay with Aerosmith?”

“Don’t worry, kid. They’re alright. They drink too much, but who doesn’t?”

“You too?” Vince asked suddenly, no smile on his face anymore. Mick stared at him wordlessly, frantically trying to come up with a decent response to such an outright question.

“Who the do you think you are to ask things like that?” He finally said, anger building up in his chest. Not so much because of the impolite question as because he couldn’t honestly say “no” to this.

“I’m just wondering. You don’t need to get all up in arms,” Vince said sweetly. “So, do you?”

“None of your business”. Mick clenched the edge of the counter again. A simple, on the first sight, question left him panicking. He really shouldn’t be so worried about some kid’s opinion on him.

“So you do.”

“No!” – Mick exclaimed maybe a little bit louder than he intended. Vince, however, didn’t seem to notice. “I, um, used to. But I’ve quit. I’m clean now.” Blood rushed to Mick’s ears. Thank god they were covered by his hair, or Vince would suspect something. Who the hell did the boy consider himself to be to ask an adult, almost a stranger, things like these? And, what’s more, expect an honest answer?

“Oh, that’s nice to hear.” Vince laughed, his personality back to his flirtatious self. He tried to mask the relief in his voice, but failed miserably. For some reason, it was very important for the kid. “Sorry if I hurt your feelings. I was just curious. You look like a cool rock n’ roll guy, and I know a lot of them drink and do drugs.”

“Keep your curiosity to yourself,” Mick muttered. “And your flattery too.” The words tasted bitter on his tongue. The kid believed him, after all.

“As you wish,” smile disappeared from Vince’s face. Mick’s words must have been too harsh. And Mick totally wasn’t feeling guilty over making the kid shut up and mind his own business. Absolutely not.

“That’s not flattery, Mick!” Tommy opened his mouth for the first time in a while, pulling Mick out of his thoughts. Mick would never imagine Tommy could be that quiet for so long. “You do look like a cool rock star. I mean, your hair looks fabulous! And your attitude… if I met you on a street, I’d definitely think you’re in a band.”

“Vince, your flattery is contagious,” Mick couldn’t help but smile. That was the best compliment he had heard in a while. “I used to be in a band, some time ago. All of that is over, though.”

“See? I knew it!” Tommy exclaimed. “But why is it over?”

“It didn’t work out.” Mick hated to say that – it still hurt, and badly, - but the truth was more important than his feelings. Maybe if he warned the boy now, it later would be easier for him to accept that not all dreams come true. Maybe Tommy would thank Mick for it - later, when he is mature enough. “A lot of people want to be in a band, few of them actually find one, and even fewer make it big. We were one of the unlucky.”

“Did you try playing with other bands?” Vince chimed in. “Maybe you just haven’t found your band yet.”

“Do I look like a fucking idiot?” Vince’s condescending tone again awoke all the anger Mick suppressed in his chest today because of this little motherfucker. “I’ve changed tons of different bands. I played in probably every shitty bar in LA. I’ve been looking for the band since school. I slept on the floor and stole food from shops because my band couldn’t get enough money to rent a motel room. I did everything possible to make it big. And I still failed.”

Vince blinked in confusion, probably not expecting such a harsh reply, and said nothing. Mick didn’t want to hurt the boy, but the fact that he caught Vince, who could probably outspeak anyone, off-guard, made him feel some kind of pride.

“Oh, Mick,” Tommy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Mick tried to keep his voice calm, but some of his irritation spilled into it. He didn’t want to be reminded of all those years lost pursuing the unreachable dream. When were they going to drop the topic at last? “That’s life. Nothing goes as you expect it to go.”

“Sorry for asking,” Vince finally spoke, quieter than usual. “It was very tactless of me.”

“It sure was,” Mick murmured. “But it’s alright. You didn’t know.”

“Good.” Vince returned to the stacks of records and began putting them on the shelves again. Tommy returned to wiping the floor. Everything seemed to calm down now.

Still, Mick was uneasy. Unanswered questions hung in the air, and Vince kept glancing at him. He had something on his mind.

“What instrument did you play?” Vince asked after a few minutes of silence. Here it was.

“The guitar.”

“Do you still play?”

“Sometimes,” Mick said. He tried to remember the last time he picked up the guitar. Definitely not this week, he returned home late and his neighbors wouldn’t be pleased by hearing an electric guitar play in the middle of the night. “I usually stay late in the store.”

“What do you do here for so long?” Vince asked. What a nosy little asshole, Mick thought with unexpected warmth. Such attention towards himself both flattered and unnerved him.

“Sort records, wash shelves, count money.” Mick sighed and leaned back on his chair. He felt like he was being questioned by the police, but with more attention. “A lot of stuff.”

“But doesn’t Tommy help you? Why do you have to do it yourself?”

“Because some, hm, friends of his are worried about his feisty ass.” Mick cut off. “Tommy, didn’t you tell them?”

“I, um…” Tommy stammered. It looked like someone was going to have a serious talk with his friends later. “I, well, told them that I come here sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Mick underlined. “Once or twice a week. All because you and that boy Nikki don’t let him work a decent job.”

“Um,” was Mick hallucinating, or did Vince’s ears go red? “We were just worried for him.”

“I get it.” Mick interrupted him. “That’s why I allowed him to bring you too. I’d gladly let Tommy help me if not for your, as he said, paranoia.”

“But the situation is super weird at best, don’t you think so? You catch a shoplifter red-handed and instead of calling the police on him you offer him a job.”

“Yes, because I’m a person who has a possibility of making my own decisions. Listen, Vince, if you don’t like me, if you find my behavior weird, I get it. I almost called the cops on you, that was probably not the best way to make acquaintance. You came to check – that’s okay, I understand your concerns. I’m no pedophile or a pervert. The three of you obviously need money. So I offered Tommy some. In exchange for decent work, of course.”

Vince stood silent for a couple of moments, thinking. Then he nodded briefly. “Okay. Yes. Sorry. You know, I had, as you said, “concerns”. But I see I was mistaken.”

“Good we figured it out,” Mick cut him off and turned away, for some reason not wanting to look Vince in the eyes. Tommy, staying silent while listening to their conversation intently, turned away to resemble his work, but Mick could swear he sighed with relief. Everything they needed to say to each other had been said. Even Vince ran out of questions and went back to the records.

Mick really wanted to fish out a bottle of whiskey from under the counter and take a few sips, or, rather, gulps. But he had to keep up appearances. He just lied he wasn’t an alcoholic, it would be stupid to prove it otherwise right in front of Vince. Not that he cared much about Vince’s opinion on him. Not at all.

“Mick?” Tommy’s voice brought Mick back to reality.

“Huh?”

“Would you- could you- if we help you in the store so that you have time after your shift, could you bring your guitar and play something for us? I’d love to hear you play!”

Mick knew this was coming. The boys considered him a rock star, apparently, even though his groups’ gigs never got more than a hundred people in. For them, he was a part of the world they wanted to live in. A very secluded and unfriendly, but a part nevertheless.

“Tommy, I usually have customers to serve,” Mick reminded. He hated to admit that, but a small part of his brain was definitely up for it. They were probably the only ones willing to hear him play in a long time, and he missed it immensely.

“After the shift, then?” Tommy looked at him with his big brown eyes, and Mick knew he would submit to those puppy eyes earlier or later. “You said you stay late to do some work, maybe we could help you with that and give you some extra time?”

“’We?’ What, Vince, are you coming back?”

“Why not?” Vince said with a friendly smile. “I’d love to hear you play too. Maybe we can even persuade Nikki to come. He wants to learn guitar.”

“Wow, even Nikki will be interested? I feel so popular,” Mick laughed. Their attention did flatter him, no matter what his feelings about the problem were. “Okay, maybe some time in the future. Oh, if I’m not mistaken, Vince, you sing? You could sing something with me playing.”

Tommy dropped the rag and made a choked sound, but Vince didn’t pay attention. Once Mic mentioned his singing, he as though froze on place, his whole body tense.

It was a low move, and Mick knew it, but today’s cross-examination of him made him a little bit irritated. Or maybe not a little bit. Rather, a lot.

“Erm, I-“ Vince began, then turned to Tommy. “I’m going to cut your tongue out someday,” he promised gravely. “Sorry, Mick. I don’t sing anymore.”

“Why not? If I can come back to playing the guitar for you, you could come back to singing. Maybe, if you work here for a while, you’ll be able to afford a drum kit for Tommy. Almost a band!”

“No,” Vince shook his head. “You don’t understand. I don’t sing anymore.”

“Can I ask why?”

“It brings back bad memories,” Vince cut him off. Something in his voice was making Mick not want to continue the conversation. Something hidden and grotesque.

“Well, playing guitar sure brings back my memories about roaches in all the flats I rented. But I’m not refusing to play because of that. Anyway,” he concluded, feeling he’d already said enough, “it’s a shame that you can’t sing for us, but you do you.”

“Thanks for understanding.” Vince nodded shortly and returned back to the stack. Tommy looked at both of them, moving his gaze back and forth, frowning in confusion. He felt the tension in the air, but couldn’t figure out its reason. What a naïve little boy he still was.

Vince, on the other hand, was very far from being naïve. He might have looked sixteen, but talked like he was thirty. It bothered Mick. Kids mature faster when there are a lot of hardships. And the boy sure had his share of them in his life. Tommy’s optimism and liveliness saved him from that; Vince wasn’t so lucky.

Mick could only wonder what made him like that. And he was pretty sure it was connected with the fact that he didn’t sing anymore.

He wanted to ask more questions. He itched to know what happened, and how he could help. But he knew Vince wouldn’t say a word unless he trusted him completely, and that wasn’t going to happen any time in the foreseeable future. He was a tough nut to crack.

Toys in the attic finished playing. Mick got up and went to change the record. “So, what are we gonna play next?”

“What do you want to play?” Vince said.

“Kiss!” Tommy suggested, beaming.

“Vince?”

“But you said you don’t like Kiss.” Vince frowned. “It’s your store, after all.”

“Yes, but I let you two choose now. Convince me that your Kiss are worth listening to.”

“Okay,” Vince said and turned around to dig into a pile of records, and Mick could swear he saw a little smile on his face.

Honestly, he was ready to listen through Kiss’ entire discography for that smile.

[revengeworld]

Judas VII

DETROIT BECOME HUMAN RK900 x Reader

Words: +2.400

Warning: rouge Android, Blue Blood, creepy, spooky 

A/N: Hello my Beautiful Deviants!!! ♥ A little bit later then planned but here is the next Chapter for Judas, the next one will probably be the last. And since it is October... this Chapter turned out a bit creepier then originally planned hahaha <3 Let´s hope the tags work this time ....

MY MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

My Ko-fi

Five month had already passed since their last encounter with the police and their little beach trip. And for now it seemed as if the police had stopped their search at least that was what they wanted them to believe. Both, Ray and Y/N, knew that they were already closer to them then they would like.

Putting her groceries in the big travelling backpack she slowly left the supermarket to walk back into the forest. Nodding to the  two workers in their truck, she knew exactly that they were the police officers that were keeping an eye on her when she came out of hiding to go shopping.

Walking along the street through the forest, Y/N soon just went straight into the forest, forcing the officers that were following her, stop their car and continue their watch to foot.

They kept far enough away from her that she wouldn´t notice them, at least that was what they were thinking. And they probably thought that she would bring them in the right direction, which was also completely wrong, then she lead them wherever she wanted to, before she suddenly vanished.

Watching their feet walking right next to her little hiding place, Y/N placed a hand over her mouth so they couldn´t hear her breathing.

“God dammit again...”

“She is harder to catch then smoke… where would she even go to, everything left in that direction is a cliff...” the discussed with each other.

“Maybe they are hiding in a cave down there. We should get those information to Connor. He will beat our asses if we don´t give him at least something ...”

She could hear they heavy steps go back to the street and waited a bit longer, before she pushed the hollow tree up under which she was hiding.

“Eww gross gross!!” brushing the small spiders of her shoulder, Y/N took a small breath.

“Sorry little spiders, but I told you already. Come near me and it get´s dangerous for you.” grabbing her bag, she shouldered it again and walked into the complete opposite direction, back to her home.

Carefully pulling back the fence, she climbed back into the junkyard and was quickly greeted by some small and squeaky barks.

“Hello my handsome boy! Did Daddy loose you again?” picking the small Husky up as soon as he had reached her she covered his fluffy face in kisses.

“I got something very special for you today...” she grinned while walking towards the workshop, where Ray was bending over an open car.

“Hey my other handsome boy.”

As soon as the Android heard Y/Ns voice, he stopped his work and walked over to her.

“Welcome home.” he mumbled between the hundreds of kisses he was giving her. Chuckling slightly, she endured before the small dog tried to lick their faces.

“Hey, we talked about this...” Ray suddenly spoke to the small dog which started to wag it´s tail.

“It´s no competition you two. I love you both very equally.” Y/N smiled and looked at both of them. Ripley, the small husky, was just here since a week, but she had already fallen in love with him when Ray had returned from the shelter with him.

She knew her Android boyfriend tried to give her the best life possible and it was the best surprise he could have made her.

But she had the feeling there was an unspoken rivalry between the sweet dog and Ray.

“Did you get everything you wanted?” he asked before returning to his work.

“I did!” with excitement she sat the dog down who waddled around their feet, while she opened up her backpack.

“I got his collar with his nametag!” she stated proudly while following the puppy to put the orange collar around his neck.

“I also got a big bag of food so we don´t have to go so often. Two bowls, a brush, a doggy bed aaand toys!” showing Ray everything he had a little smirk on his lips.

“I´m glad the little one makes you so happy.”

“You make me very happy too...” she whispered and laid her hand against his cheek before kissing him.

“I´m sorry to interrupt, but we got customers.” Dylan came quickly inside the workshop to warn them.

Grabbing Ripley who was trying to greet the new person in the room, they run over the yard to hide in their little home.

It was hard to keep Ripley calm since he thought it was now playtime with his new parents. Y/N bribed the small puppy with the treats she had bought and laid out his new bed so he could cuddle up in it, while she laid down in front of Ray who wrapped his arm around her.

She quietly watched the small puppy gnaw on his bone and cuddled up closer against Rays chest, while waiting for Dylan to give them the sign that they could come out again.

“You know… he actually quite looks like you...” she mumbled while running her fingers through the soft fur.

“What? No, not at all.” Ray immediately shot back and buried his face in her neck.

“Of course! Let me show you...” carefully picking Ripley up she sat the puppy in front of Ray who just looked at Y/N with furrowed brows while she took a picture of both of them. They could be Twins,,, she thought when she saw the result, Ripleys black markings on his forehead made it almost look like he had the same furrowed brows like Ray.

“See!” she giggled and showed him the camera. With a sighed he nodded.

“Fine...” pulling her back towards him, the cuddled up together with Ripley in the middle who seemed to be enjoying the extra warmth.

“Should I order some food for you? You must be starving since you had no breakfast today and didn´t get anything in town.”Ray whispered his hand gently caressing her cheek.

“How did you know?”

“Your lips only tasted like toothpaste.” shrugging with his shoulders Y/M suddenly nodded.

“Right, I forgot that you could make that out from just a kiss. Yeah, a pizza would be nice now … the usual please.”

The rest of the day would be rather quite. Y/N laid on the roof of the car on a blanket while munching on her pizza and Ripley was playing with his new toys while Ray finished up his work.

But when Y/N heard the quick and heavy footsteps she knew that something was wrong. Seeing Ray running towards her she quickly slid down the roof.

“RUN!” Ray screamed while trying to dodge the bullets that were fired at him.

As fast as she could, Y/N grabbed Ripley who already started growling and barking at the intruders and placed him back in the safety of their home.

This could go one way or another and at this point she was sick of giving in. Normally their escape plan was that the other would run if one of them get captured, but if they would get to him she would loose Ray forever and that was something she wouldn´t be able to endure.

Grabbing the gun instead of the prepared backpack and loading it with bullets before locking the small barking puppy into the car.

“For fucks sake Y/N!!” her boyfriend growled trying to pull her away.

“I´m tired of running away!” she hissed and fired her first bullet directly into the ground in front of Connors feet.

“No one fucking moves!” shouting at the policeman, they stopped in their tracks. Their weapons pointed at both of them.

But the one she watched closely was Connor, then he was the highest threat at the moment. Seeing how she slowly turned his aim more to the left, Y/N quickly stepped in front of Ray.

“I dare you to point that gun at anyone but me!! I had enough of this! Why couldn´t you just leave us be?!” she shouted, so frustrated with everything that was happening to them, when all they wanted was a quiet normal life.

“Because...”

“Lower your weapons! All of you!” they suddenly heard someone else scream and Hank came through the crowd of policemen.

“I said lower your goddamn weapons!! You too young lady!!!” the old man glared at him and after everyone, including Connor lowered his weapon, Ray gently pressed Y/Ns arms down before she pressed herself against his chest.

It was over, after all those long days of hiding and running away Y/N and Ray were caught.

Hank send any other of the officers away, until it was only the four of them left.

Hearing the whimpering from Ripley, Y/N turned away and opened the door carefully before picking him up in her arms, where he immediately attacked her face with kisses.

“I see, you are actually outnumbering us. Clever tactic.” the old man smiled and Y/N returned it, while he stepped closer and brushed over the small animals head.

But when Connor took a step closer, she only glared at him and he stopped in his tracks, while Ray laid an arm around her shoulders.

“Normally I would ask you two to come with us, but I already know the answer.” Hank spoke, but shook his head lightly.

“And still I need you guys to come back with us.”

“Not happening.” she said calm but sternly, Y/N wouldn´t risk loosing Ray in any way possible and she  already noticed that Connor didn´t take his eyes of his successor.

“Y/N… ”

“Why should we come back with you guys? We never did something illegal that you need to hunt us down in the first place!”

“He kidnapped you!” Connor suddenly argued and threw him another look.

“Ray didn´t kidnap me! The first time he asked me to come with him, I said yes! The second time he asked me I said yes. The third time he didn´t even need to ask, because I wanted to be with him. Why can´t you understand that?!” crossing her arms in front of her chest, while her voice grew louder and she only shook her head.

“Because I love you!” the Android suddenly shouted back.

“Bullshit! You are obsessed, then if you would love me you would have let me go!” she wanted to punch him, but held herself back especially when she felt Rays big hand on her shoulder again.

“I can´t be with you Connor. I never will be, because I love Ray.”

But it wasn´t to calm her, her boyfriend was slowly pulling her away, his brows furrowed while he stared at Connor.

“Something is wrong...” he whispered and now she noticed the slight shaking in Connors hand as well. No, it was more like twitching until his LED turned red.

“Alright, we play it your way then...” they could hear the distortion in his voice and in just a second he had his gun back up before he fired.

It only missed Rays head by an inch, while he tried to shield Y/Ns body from the bullet. Ripley who got scared by the loud noise, run away towards the workshop while Y/N and Ray took the opportunity to sprint towards the hole in the fence.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Y/N pressed out while they were running as fast as they could through the forest. She could hear Hank struggle against his Partner before Connor pushed him away with ease. His movement still twitching and flinching in a creepy fashion.

“It seems like a Virus in his program. Which makes him extremely aggressive and dangerous.” Ray answered before pulling her to the side, another bullet flying right by them.

“He won´t hold back.” and Y/N what that meant, he wouldn´t spare her.

“What can we do?” she asked desperate while looking up to the slowly darker turning sky. Soon they would be in complete darkness.

“Reset him.” Ray whispered and she slowly nodded.

They could hear his irregular footsteps nearby, while they tried to hide behind a big tree. They only could hope that their plan would work.

Pressing a quick kiss against her hand, Ray smiled down at her and when she returned it, both of them started running in the opposite direction.

First his head snapped in Ray direction, before it slowly turned towards Y/N, with a horrible cracking noise.

“Y/N...” he shouted, it voice crackling like the old radio Hank always tried to use. Trying to keep her fast pace, she jumped over branches and fallen trees, hearing the rouge Android right behind her.

“You can´t run from me!!” his terrifying voice echoed through the woods.

And he was right. With sliding steps, she came to a stop in front of the cliff, where she had let the officers earlier this day.

Y/N wanted to turn to the right, ready to break into another sprint before something grabbed her by her hair and pulled her back.

“Did you really thought you could escape me? You´re just a mere human.” blue blood was dripping from his eyes and for a moment she couldn´t even believe that it was Connor who was standing in front of her. The nice and gently Android who was her friend. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Connor please...” but instead of even paying attention to what she was saying, with one swing of his arm she was flying against the next tree.

All the air that she had left in her lungs was gone and she desperately tried to catch her breath, while she heard his heavy footsteps come closer again.

Connor was grabbing her by her collar, before lifting her up with ease so that even her feet didn´t touch the ground.

“It´s okay...” she whispered. “It will all be better soon.”

Tilting his head in confusion, which made a cracking sound that a shiver run down Y/Ns spine, Connor squinted his eyes in suspicion.

Before he even knew what would hit him, Ray stood behind him and threw chains around his torso. When Y/N fell to her knees she had to act quick, when Ray threw her the stun baton while he was holding Connor down.

He tried to scream, which my now sounded more like a hurt animal and she felt like she was thrown in one of her worst nightmares.

“Y/N!!” Ray shouted to get her out of her fearful daze and she rammed the stun buton right next Connors heart.

They could hear the crackling of the electricity while it run through his body, before he eventually stopped moving.

“Is he...?” she gulped.

“Knocked out...” Ray confirmed after inspecting the other Android.

Falling on her knees, her hands started to shake before tears were streaming over her face and Ray took her in her arms.

TAGS: @attorneyl @celestiaelisia @sdavid09 @connor-become-deviant @ceylon-morphe286   @whothefuckisbellamyblake @datweirdname @ageathas @sciencefearshopesandtears @melanieisbae @enchanted-trash-can @this-is-what-im-reduced-to @glitch-girl318 @couplegoalsismygoal @potenzel @a-song-of-obsession-and-insanity @dbhconkarmar @rk800isprettydangattractive @sylvestercunt @sherlockspie @vantoff @the-razy-pie-rope @mikithekiki @starrie-nightsky @jamiethenerdymonster @x6-15 @emptymomentswithmen @aya-fay @liveloveandbekind  @dinkythedinosaur  @wont-you @poodlegods @marisasstuff  @herdecisions @mephistominion @pro-androids @bithepowerofgay

[nose-coffee]

Musicals As Vines

The 25th Annual Putnam Spelling Bee: Iridocylcitis

A Chorus Line: Oh my gosh, Marlene, your speech was so good. ReAlLy CaUsE i DiDn’T eVeN lIkE iT iT wAs JuSt ImPrOv AnD i JuSt- OH MY GOD WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TAKE THE FREAKING COMPLIMEEEEEENT

The Addams Family: go ahead and pull it through *cat paw through a hole pulls a cord through*

A Gentleman’s Guide To Love and Murder: WAKE UP SLEEPY HEAD! what the fuck dude? we’re trying to sleep. *hysterical laughter*

Amélie: *A sweet saxophone solo* Hi, welcome to Chili’s

American Psycho: dETECTIVE THIS IS A CRIME SCENE. WHAT, IS THIS THE MURDER WEAPON? GET OFF MY D I C K

Anastasia: Who’s that Pokémon? IT’S PIKACHU! It’s Clefairy! F U C K!

Annie: PARENTS EXCUSE MY POTTY MOUTH, SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Avenue Q: ShAwTy I dOn’T M I N D/that Nanalan vine where she says fuck

Bandstand: *toy cat on the floor* and i DONT WANT THE WORLD TO SEE ME *cats neck extends horrifically*

The Bands Visit: GET TO DEL TACO. THEY GOT A NEW THING CALLED FRE SHA *giggles uncontrollably* FRE SHA VOC ADO

Bare; A Pop Opera: welcome to bible studies, we’RE ALL CHILDREN OF JESUS! KUMBAYAAAAAA MY LORD-/Two bros, chillin’ in a hot tub, five feet apart, ‘cause they’re not gay

Be More Chill: Hey, bro, what do you want to eat? THE SOULS OF THE INNOCENT- a bagel NO- two bagels

Billy Elliot: *That kid dancing in a far off elevator*

Bonnie and Clyde: Just put the money in the bag. Okay, do you have a bag? We had to bring our own bag? How inconvenient.

Book Of Mormon: I WANT A CHURCH GIRL WHO GO TO CHURCH, AND REEEAD HER BIIIIBLE

Bring It On: PATRICIA! Get it together sweetie, we have a show tomorrow

Cabaret: Two shots of vodka *glug glug glug glug glug*

Carrie: HoW dO yOu KnOw WhAt’S gOoD fOr Me? THAT’S MY O P I N I ON

Catch Me If You Can: *screaming* WHY RE YOU RUNNING? W H Y AREYOURUNNING?

Cats: Dress for the job you want! Oh, you want to be a vet? No, I want to be a cat.

Chess: hi, thanks for checking in, I’m still a piece of garbage!

Chicago: YOU READY TO FUCKING DIE, BITCH? NAH, I’M A BAD BITCH, YOU CAN’T KILL ME!

Come From Away: Canadian animals can be extremely dangerous, but if you respect them, they'll respect you. What the fuck - get OFF THE CAR, YOU STUPID MOOSE

Dear Evan Hansen: *Kid in a tree* Dad, I’m scared! Do you trust me, son? Yes. *Kid falls out of tree, dad turns to camera* Rule number one, never trust anyone/kEVIN, WATCH THE LIGHT, DUDE. wATCH THE LIGHT. *Kevin pauses, and then smashes his pillow into the light, breaking it*

Dogfight: Sarah? Yeah? Never fight and ugly girl; she’s got nothing to lose. Okay, grandma

Evita: *Screaming in a shopping trolley as it rolls out of control in a parking lot*

Falsettos: *Slow zoom in* *doorbell* OOOOoOOoooOOOOOO

Fiddler on the Roof: I WANT A TEMPLE GIRL, WHO GO TO TEMPLE, AND REEEEAD HER TOOOORAH

Finding Neverland: *Frantic recorder playing in a parked car*

Fun Home: Dad? Is this where you’ve been for the past ten years? *dad sinks back into blackness* DAD N O/*Just that vine of the dad talking on the phone while his kid tries to play frisbee with him and him slapping the frisbee out of the air whenever it comes near him*

Grease: baby it’s You You’Re the ONe I LoVE YOU’RE THE ONE I N E E D

Groundhog Day: It was a gopher, and it was controlling time. I had to shoot it, yeah, I did

Gypsy: Where do you want to get a healthy snack, Rebecca? I want Chipotle. I said a hEALTHY SNACK-

Hadestown: *discordant strum* I love you bitch *discordant strum* I ain't never gonna stop loving you, b I t ch

Hairspray: This land is your land. This land is my land. This land is your land. THIS LAND IS MY LAND, THIS LAND IS MY LAND

Hamilton: So, basically, what I was thinking was *slap* oH fUcK i CaN’t BeLiEvE yOu’Ve DoNe ThIs

Heathers: Don’t tell your mother. Kiss one another? DIE FOR EACH OTHER! *Falls out of chair*/*Guy walking out of 7/11, trips, spills slurpee* SHIT

In The Heights: Zach stop/so, as it turns out, I’m not going to college, I’m going to hell, I’m, uh, not excited

Into The Woods: *screams at kid coming around corner* *kid screams and then stares at the camera in a pissed off way*/oh, I would, but I've just got too much to do, tonight *cuts to him chugging beer and playing a synth on his bed*

Jesus Christ Superstar: I brought you frankincense. Thank you. And I brought you...mhyr. Thank you. MHYR-DUR! *sassy gasp* JUDAS, N O!/Don’t cross me, shout out to Jesus...what rhymes with Jesus?

Joseph and His Amazing Technicolour Coat: *Shovelling snow and slips and falls for six seconds before recovering, miraculously*

Kinky Boots: *Crashing noises* *Door opens* I got new shoes

Legally Blonde: Girl, you’re thicker than a bowl of oatmeal.

Les Miserables: wElL wHeN lIfE gIvEs YoU lEmOnS *fun jingle*

The Lion King: Be nice to the babies *cat pushes one kitten off the dresser* NO

Little Shop of Horrors: Put that candy back, I’m not buying you all that mess. OOP, TRY ME BITCH

Matilda: What’s the one thing worse than a rapist? BOOM. A cHiLd. N O-

Mean Girls: *scoffs* you can’t sit here! Actually, Megan, I can’t sit ANYWHERE, I have hemorrhoids

Miss Saigon: daddy? DO I LOOK LIKE-

Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812: What have you got for me, today, Mr Postman? Just this LETTER! JOhn I don’t love you

Newsies: BACK AT IT AGAIN AT KRISPY KREME *flips*/what does it say? Hot boy. HOT BOY HOT BOY HOTBOYHOTBOY

Next to Normal: Dad, look, it’s the good kush! This is the dollar store, how good can it be?/THAT’S IT, GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE, GET UP THERE! THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING N I G H T M A R E!

Once On This Island: We all die, you either kill yourself or get killed. WATCHA GONNA DO? WATCHA GONNA DO?

Phantom of the Opera: Dad, I found my new favourite song. *Opening chords of Phantom of the Opera* *dad looks disappointed and vaguely uncomfortable*

Pippin: I wish I could fly away and never come back! Your wish is granted. I miss my xbox

Rent: *All the soft drinks into one cup* Fuck you/*Completely Giving Up, starring Me*

Rocky Horror Picture Show: Wait a minute. Who ARE you?

Singin' In The Rain: *just that guy skipping down the street to that Lady Gaga song*

Sound Of Music: *class full of students singing along to a piano* AW SKEET SKEET MOTHERFUCKER, AW SKEET SKEET, GODDAMN

Spongebob Squarepants: What if my nose was *gasps* Hello i’m squidward haHahA *Begins to cry*/SQUIDWARD! *Squidward dabs* *fans scream*

Spring Awakening: What happened while I was gone? Yo Jessica had three kids. What? I was gone for a day! She been fucking./When we gonna churn butter and chill? EZEKIEL! After my chores

Sweeney Todd; the Demon Barber of Fleet Street: WHEN WILL YOU LEARN? WHEN WILL YOU LEARN THAT YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES? *screams*

Urinetown: *Kermit sitting on a log* 3 2 1! *water gets poured on him, cuts to him falling off a building*/*kid with a mullet bottle flips a wine glass and dabs, with Mad World playing in the background*

Waitress: I can’t give you the display bagel; it’s not real. TASTY. N O

Wicked: And they were roommates. Oh My GoD tHeY wErE rOoMaTeS

[happymetalgirl]

Disturbed - Evolution

This is a tough one.

Not to write, well kind of.

Like a sucker punch to the gut after trying to quell a bar fight.

Disturbed were one of the big reasons I got into heavy music in my adolescence, and even looking back, I still enjoy a lot of my favorite deep cuts from albums like Believe and, my personal favorite, Indestructible. For a long time, Disturbed has been the bane of frustrated criticism from much of the metal community for having a rather homogeneous and formulaic writing style, which they do to some degree. But for a long time I stood my ground in my appreciation of what they did with the style they transitioned to immediately after their nu metal debut album put them on the map. Even though they did largely abide by a common formula, their music didn’t really FEEL formulaic. The band played with what seemed to be a pretty convincing vigor, with David Draiman’s strong and well-controlled singing voice a major factor of it, and the rest of the band’s crunchy riffs and respectable solos providing a certainly adequate backing to such a strong vocal presence. The band were assertive. They nailed five #1 albums in a row and they played like they had to prove they deserved it out of all the other groups in the alternative metal field in the 2000′s.

I was a little shaky when the band came back from hiatus with 2015′s Immortalized, for which they recruited Five Finger Death Punch producer Kevin Churko to manage the soundboard, and he basically copied and pasted the same bland production from Got Your Six to Disturbed’s sound. Aside from the unflattering, squeaky clean preset production, the band sounded much more micromanaged in their writing. The band were able to squeeze out a few bangers that hearkened back to albums like Ten Thousand Fists, but combined with what seemed like a bit less fire under their ass after their hiatus, Immortalized sounded like Disturbed sterilized, super clean, super textbook, no surprises... well, one surprise. What Immortalized eventually brought Disturbed was a hit cover: Simon and Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence”. The band had done a lot of well-received cover songs across their catalog before “The Sound of Silence”: “Shout” by Tears for Fears, “Land of Confusion” by Genesis, “Midlife Crisis” by Faith No More, “Living After Midnight” by Judas Priest, “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For” by U2, and even a live rendition of Pantera’s “Walk”. But nothing brought them quite the resurgence in popularity after hiatus that “The Sound of Silence” was able to. But that clearly came with a price that the band would have to pay later, and that time is now.

Immortalized felt like executives and radio analysts had a bit too much hold on the band in the creative process, and on Evolution, it really feels like they have taken the reins completely to ensure that the band they invested in, the band that gave them their hit Simon and Garfunkel cover, would yield a similar return. And good God is it a catastrophic shame! Reshaping Disturbed’s approach and image all the way down to the album cover, the first to not feature their iconic mascot (The Guy) since his inception on the Ten Thousand Fists cover, Evolution is quite a painfully fitting title for this stifled, programmed album. For the first time, Disturbed really sound like something their longtime fans didn’t ever want them to be and everything their worst critics had always said they were. I don’t know how much of a fight the band members put up to prevent the album from sounding this way (if they even did) but they sound defeated and puppeteered. The curious part of me even wonders if Draiman’s oddly publicized decision to take out his chin piercings came as the result of label pressure to clean up the band’s image for radio/YouTube or something (if so, I’m sure they’re also trying to find a way to change that super offensive, not-radio-Disney band name without losing the recognition it comes with).

Cynicism about the context of the album aside, Evolution is a tough pill to swallow. Producer Kevin Churko is back to fuck up a good thing and choke the band’s otherwise lion-like roar into the wheeze of an asthmatic cat (appreciate the Sufjan Stevens reference). The album kicks off with the fan-chosen lead single, “Are You Ready”, an adequate, but still kind of safe channeling of classic Disturbed. On any other album from them, this would be an enjoyable, but lower-tier track in the bag. The fact that it’s a highlight here speaks to the tremendous drop in quality on this album. Things go south quickly with the second track, “No More”. The song builds its foundation on a butt rock drum beat throughout the verses and minimal riffage. The chorus is a bit better, but those verses are just unbearable. And then we get the first of several of the album’s soulless, transparently label-pushed ballads: “A Reason to Fight”. The lyrically vague, overproduced acoustic piece is such an obvious attempt at a semi-“The Sound of Silence” original that the label wouldn’t have to split royalties for. And this applies pretty much exactly to the nauseatingly cheesy inspiration of “Hold on to Memories”, the artificially orchestral “Lift You Up”, and the melodramatic acoustic closer, “Already Gone”.

As for the more rock-oriented material, the kids-on-their-damn-phones anthem “In Another Time” sounds again like an overproduced Asylum-esque banger that would almost definitely have sounded better on that album’s production (and with less surface-y topical lyrics). The chuggy, mid-paced guitar riff on “Stronger on Your Own” also really highlights how shitty the production on this album is, with Dan Donegan sounding like he’s playing through a fucking practice amp. Again, it sounds like something that could have had potential to be passable in an earlier studio session, but instead got snuffed out here. “Savior of Nothing” features some refreshingly present cool guitar harmonics, even though Donegan is still far too muffled in the mix. The chorus is pretty lifeless, however, and the momentarily exciting drum fills at the bridge are quickly ruined by a corny electronic dubstep-ish drop, in current year, after all the failed experimentation we saw with dubstep in the early 2010's! God, just give me the cancer now. Perhaps the laziest display of the band’s usual hard rock and alternative metal blend comes in the elementary schooler swearing technique on the drama-critique of “The Best Ones Lie”, which just sounds awkward and forced.

The bonus tracks on the “deluxe” version of the album features a recycled suspiciously titled original alt. metal cut called “This Venom”...like that shit movie needs more shitty music commissioned for it to stain this year. And of course, there’s another acoustic ballad with Draiman seriously crooning in falsetto at some points like a fucking wannabe Adam Levine.

The band expressed that they wanted this album to be like their “black album” and represent a stylistic evolution for them, which is such an odd thing to hear from a band that has clearly taken so much influence from the “black album” they’re referring to. And I feel like a broken record this year with bands stating they want to “evolve” or “progress” as an excuse for an unwelcome diverting into the fleeting promises of career revival and job security that radio-friendliness advertises, but Disturbed’s case is different. They aren’t some B-list group from the 2000′s metalcore movement jumping aboard the Oli Sykes bandwagon. Disturbed are big, and they didn’t need to sell their souls to maintain their status after the success of “The Sound of Silence”, which is why I get the feeling that this was the product of too many hands of boardroom members on the creative wheel. Although, it’s still entirely possible that this really was the direction Disturbed wanted to go. They said they were inspired by the classic rock of their youth, which could be an excuse to appeal to that hotbed of radio boredom, but I can believe it given the more rock-oriented cuts on this album.

Either way, this is bay far Disturbed’s worst album to date, and one that ended their five-record streak of #1 albums. Not that I would revel in a band’s failure (besides, it debuted at #4, which is undoubtedly still a win for the band, and moreso a symbolic stumble for the label), but I hope that such a “slump” either helps guide the band back on track to doing what they have done well, or gives them leverage to get their label the fuck off their backs so that they can get back to doing what they do well without the hindrance of outside influence only seeking to pimp their artistry, seeing that the label probably isn’t going to be getting a hit like the “The Sound of Silence” this time around anyway.

In the end, perhaps the album cover (as boring as it is) without The Guy is better. It certainly represents something. If The Guy is the spirit of the band and their hunger, then it’s fitting that he’s not here on Evolution's cover. Replaced by the image of electrified DNA bases with chains serving as the sugar-phosphate backbone, the Guy-less cover kind of does express the chaining of the band’s fiery nature across this album, something I hope they can break free from on their next project.

[fiction-queen-blog]

TheAmazingUchihaBruhs: Naruto’s Birthday Special (part 2)

Case 18 part 2

read part 1

Tch look at him..Tch thinking he is fucking smart”

I was hiding behind a mailbox, watching my future husbando ran his hand down his hair as he walked up to a house.

“How did you convince me to go?”

I turned my head to Izuna and grabbed him by his collar.

“Hey, I need you to back me up here!” I hissed.

“Sasuke, you are like a trained assassin. I am more in your way then I would be helping you?” Izuna slapped my hand away.

“Bitch, I don’t need you to fight for me...I need you to help me carry his body-” I saw Izuna’s face turn white before swallowing loudly.

I went back to observing this stupid son of a bitch.

“-And that of this bitch”

I bit down my lip.

I hid back behind the mailbox when I saw Naruto suddenly turn around. He jogged away. I shared a look with Izuna.

“You think he changed his mind?” I whispered.

“Depends...How good are you to him for him to not go for free booty?”

I gave Izuna a confused look before he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh no...Dude, I haven’t...No” I looked away.

“Never?” Izuna stopped whispering.

“No….I mean...We kissed...But..No sex”

I stared at the pavement. This was embarrassing.

“Not even?-”

I watched Izuna move his hand like he was jerking off the wind. I slapped his hand.  There was a small silence before I shook my head.

“Oh my God, you are a saint!”

“Sush!” I hissed, putting my hand over his mouth.

“We are in a very vague spot”  I didn’t know what else to say about it.

“Don’t tell Shisui” Izuna moved from squatting down to kneeling.

“Why?” I felt this lump in my throat. What the hell was he talking about.

“Because I owe him money and I spend all my money on these fabulous shoes” He said, showing them off.

“Dude, there is dog shit on them”

“Fuck!” He cursed.

“Sush!” I hissed.

“Come on, this is way worse! And this wouldn’t have happened if you just fucked that booty. Now we have no grounds to even murder him” Izuna seemed pissed.

“What do you mean I have no grounds?”

“It’s…” He sighed exhausted. The dirty shoes really made him angry.  “It’s like an unwritten law. Call it..Animal law. You don’t own that territory until you’ve made it yours”

I looked away before looking back at Izuna.

“You...want me to pee on his junk?” I narrowed my eyes slightly.

“Dude, I don’t know what you are into-”

I suddenly heard somebody clear his throat loudly and both Izuna and I jumped up seeing Naruto lean over the mailbox and looking right at us.

“I’m not really into... getting pee on my junk” He had this innocent face, but I knew better than that.

“How much did you hea-”

“No.No..I am not saying anything until I hear what is going on here”  He stopped leaning on the mailbox and folded his arms.

I looked at Izuna.

“We were…”  

I know for a fact that I have this telepathic connection with most of my brothers. Where we just shared a look and were directly on the same page.

“Jogging”

“Spying on you” .

I ..Did not have this connection with  Izuna.

At this point Naruto gave me the  “are you fucking kidding me” look, but then he took a deep breath.

“I was going to assume you were going a great length to get some perfect gift or some bullshit...Because that’s..Like..How you are”

He gave me this disappointed look and mostly I would give in. If it wasn’t for the fact his side-hoe is in that house.

“Oh shut up!” I snapped, giving him the sassy index finger. “You can’t possibly think you are on any moral high ground here. You lied to me and you were so sure you   could get away with it”

And there it was. I was hoping I was wrong.

Just...So wrong.

That he would come with some logical explanation which would leave me embarrassed. But instead...He looked away...Guilty

My heart dropped. I couldn’t even feel it beat anymore.

“I can explain-”  He looked up.

“Oh fuck no!” I felt Izuna drag me behind him. “I don’t give a fuck if we are friend, hang out ...And that I had one sex-dream about you-”

“What?” Naruto looked surprised in a not so amused way.

“But if you are playing with my little brother. I will make your life miserable. I will make you cry and kill yourself-”

“Wow. Wow hold-up” Naruto put his hands up in an innocent way. “Playing?”  He looked past Izuna to me.

“We hacked your computer, we know what you are up to and we even know the bitch’s name behind door number 37”

Naruto looked from Izuna to me and then back to Izuna...Before looking back at me.

“Wait..I thought you guys meant my birthday party...Why I invited Izuna on Friday and you on Sunday?”

“That was the big question..” I felt my throat go numb.

“Sasukeh! Do you really believe I am having some booty call here?”

“Yeah some bitch from chemistry class. Mitosis is her name” Izuna said. Still convinced.

“Mito”  I corrected Izuna.

“And Seven!?” Izuna added

“Nana” I corrected Izuna again.

“I hate to be this person...Did you see my browser history?” He asked a bit careful.

“Ravenhotti69 amateur porn channel can wait..” I said, folding my arms.

“Fuck…” He muttered. “You got it all wrong” He sighed.  “ frankly, I find it wrong of you to heck my computer instead of just...Talking to me”

“Don’t change the subject” I snapped. “You have not one..but two side-hoes!”  

“Do you honestly hear yourself when you talk?!” He raised his voice.

“Hey, don’t you-”

“Izuna!” Naruto interrupted him. “You are my friend and I respect you and all, but you are making this worse” He looked back at me.

“On you?” Izuna cocked his head.

“Can we just talk without this...Judas-”

“Bitch, you haven’t even read the Bible” Izuna interrupted Naruto.

“Mito is my grandmother. I call her Nana..As in Granny!” He snapped. I could see the frustration in his eyes.

I saw Izuna turn his face to me before looking back at Naruto.

“Ha..Ha...We got you! Oh we got so under your skin! Haha there are camera’s everywhere! We got you good!” Izuna was  backing slowly away.

“Haha..What a day for a prank, right? We should go..See ya~” He ran..

He ran as fast as the wind.

“Izuna!” I shouted.

“EVERY MAN ON THEIR OWN!” He screamed as he ran to the car.

“You….were my ride…” I shook my head. Just when I thought my brother was actually a good one….He betrayed me.  I felt a hand on my shoulder and I stiffened.

“You know….We will send you a copy of the tape…” I said, but he didn’t buy it and I couldn’t blame him.

“I can’t believe you think so little of me” He shook his head.

I wished I was relieved knowing this chick was just some 80 years old grandma...But I was not feeling relieved...I felt like a complete moron.

“I should go…” I stared at the ground...Too ashamed to look at him.

“Hey…” He gently grabbed my chin and lifted it so I would look him in the eye .

“I am sorry. I was...I was “investigating”. I wanted to get you a very good birthday gift...But then Izuna said your party was on Friday and you invited me on Sunday...And I just got..So.So..Crazy. I directly assumed there was some bitch in your life..” I lowered my eyes.

“Izuna kinda encouraged my suspicion...So..I hacked your computer and went crazy on you...I mean...Your mom said “be safe” and it all made so much sense. I totally get you don’t want to see me. I should..Just..disappear”  

There was a silence and I didn’t dare to even look at him. But then he started laughing. He let go of my chin, holding his stomach from the laughter.

“I have to admit you are crazy, dattebayo!” He said. I felt some sort of imaginary brick fall on my head.

“But..”He wiped away a tear from all the laughter. “They say jealousy means you care...right?”  

“Who the fuck says that?” I frowned,  “it makes no sense. It’s like psycho advice”

“I can forgive you...But I will make lots of fun of you for this” he said. He took a step closer to me, cupping my cheek.

“I have seen your browser history. You don’t wanna do that” I threatened.

“Oh fuck...How did you even-”

“I’m a man of many secrets” I  said. I wrapped my arms around his middle and leaned my chin on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Naruto.I don’t see you that much anymore, and I just...Assumed ..”

I couldn’t even finish my sentence without sounding pathetic.

“It is not all your fault-”

I squeezed his middle.

“Don’t do that. I feel bad as it is” I said. I know he meant well.

“I should have been straight with you about why I invited you on Sunday and Izuna on Friday”

“Now  that you mentioned it  …” I broke the hug.

“It is a logical reason...I think..” He rubbed the back of his neck. “My cousin is organising a party in his house...down South...And there is going to be a lot of people, a lot of alcohol and loud music”

“And you knew I wasn’t into that and  you didn’t want me to feel obligated to go for your sake ...So you didn’t tell me about it-”

He was quiet for a moment before nodding his head.

“Yes, totally that” He said.  

An awkward silence emerged...Something told me he was not telling the truth.

“You...Wanna meet my grandma?” He asked and pointed at the house.

“I don’t think-”

“I think you owe me, dattebayo. She is going to love you” He wrapped an arm around my middle. I wondered if he just did that to drag me with him.

“I’m not so sure...What if she hates me. Am I even dressed well enough?”

“You look good” He placed a kiss on my cheek and I felt my face heat up. My heart was beating like crazy.

“Naru, how nice of you to visit your grandma again”

I looked at some young guy opening the door. I turned my head to Naruto and then back at the guy.

“Oh is this your classmate? Nice to meet you I am his grandmother’s nurse. I am usually here around this time a day”

“What a coincidence”  I turned my head at Naruto and I swear I saw him smirk.

“Come in you two”  

We took off our shoes before entering the living room where I saw an old lady with red hair sitting on a rocking chair, knitting something. She looked up and put her knitting work on her lap before opening her arms.

“Naruto” She seemed excited. Naruto hugged her.

“I want you to meet my friend. Sasuke”  

“What? Sas-Uke?! Terrible name”

Naruto laughed before turning his head to me.

“Sasuke!” He repeated a bit louder.

“Ooh, come here,Sasuke. Give nana a hug”

I felt a little joy at this moment. It seemed she liked me enough to hug me already. I leaned in to hug her, but then I felt her sharp nails dig in my back as she whispered in my ear :”Stay away from my grandson, you bitch”

I broke the hug and gave her a shocked expression….Did I imagine this?

“You must want some orange juice. Iwabee, could you be so kind” Mito indicated to the nurse, who nodded. “Oh grab some pastries for my grandson. He so skinny” She shook her head.

“That dipshit’s genes” She muttered and I couldn’t believe nobody heard it except me.

“Oh, I have to go to the restroom. I will be back in a second” Naruto stood up and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with his grandmother.

She turned her head to me.

“You are just like him” She shook her head. “You are just as weak as that dipshit of a Minato.No backbone”

“So...I used to be in the police force-”

“Hiding behind your weapons, scaring kids who are just playing around” she snorted at me.  “You people disgust me. My grandson deserves better”  

“I busted big drug operations...I put murderers behind bars. I fought off people twice my size”

“And you are still full of shit” Mito said. I crossed my legs and leaned in.

“You’re on, old witch” I hissed.

“What?” She asked, leaning in.

“I said, you’re on, old witch” I raised my voice slightly.

“Speak up, pussy!”

“I SAID YOU'RE ON, OLD WITCH!”I shouted.

I fell right in her trap.

“Sasuke!”

I looked at the door, seeing Naruto stand there...Shit...This woman was smart.

“We were quoting...Wicked!” I faked a big smile before looking at Mito who shook her head.

“We were not” She said.

Naruto gave me a disproved look and I couldn’t believe I was put in such a situation.

Oxoxoxox

“What was up with you? I swear at some point I was worried you were crying in the bathroom” Naruto said, putting his hand in his pockets as he walked next to me on the pavement, away from the witch’s house.

“Oh I was..Mentally crying” I commented.

“What  is your problem with her. I swear you are just like my father”

I looked at Naruto from the corner of my eye.

“You are acting weird just like my dad does every time we visit my grandma” He sighed.

“The truth-”

“She was a single mom. She raised my mom all alone. She did everything for her and for me” Naruto interrupted me

I am starting to understand why Minato never spoke up about it.

“I was acting weird...You are right. I just wanted...Her to like me so much..I went overboard” I said. “I am weird”

“That’s exactly what my dad always says...Ha..What a coincidence” Naruto wrapped an arm around me.

“Wanna ride home?” He asked.

“Ride?” I asked.

He held up car keys and it took me a second to understand what he was saying.

“Why didn’t you tell me you passed your driving test?” I asked, holding the keys.  “Your mom’s car?”

“Because I wanted to surprise you-”

“By running me over?” I interrupted him.

“By taking you to a drive in” He said with a small smile. I stopped walking.

“I told you about my dad and the drive-in ...Three years ago”

His smile widened. He started walking again.

“I know...I remember” he said, opening the door of the car.

“So sweet” I said, sitting down.

“Everything for my main-hoe” He joked and I rolled my eyes. I deserved that. He closed the door before sitting down on the driver’s seat.

“But I promised myself not to take you there too often” he said.

“Because it is unhealthy?” I asked, fastening my seatbelt.

“No..Because I will have to get a mortgage to afford that. You eat so much”

“You are so romantic. Maybe after that we can just have sex in the back of the car”

“Are you serious?” His eyes had a sparkle in them.

“Yeah because I want my first time in the back of your mother’s car” I shook my head. “...It will be quite the story” he said, “but I did promise my mom not to get any cum on the interior..From my side-hoes”

I punched him in his shoulder.

“Speaking of side-hoes….The nurse”

“What? No..No!” He looked away.

“Uhu” I raised an eyebrow.

“I am there to visit my grandma..That there is a rather handsome guy, wearing shorts and bending over tables..Is just...Extra”

“You are such an asshole sometimes” I said, looking away.

“I am kidding, Sas-”

“You shouldn’t even be looking at that sloppy ass. Mine is like so much better. On a scale of one to ten. That ass is a four, but mine is a twelve..at least..Soooo~”

Naruto remained quiet as he looked at me.

“I legit thought for a second you were mad at me!”

I laughed.

I have no idea what I did to deserve him, but it must have been pretty damn good.

[swaggore]

Oh boy!

It’s been one hell of a week since I saw Depeche Mode last Friday. I had several assignments due and a concentration portfolio review. It’s like a make or break sort of deal where at least 14 art pieces you’ve created are judged anonymously. They’re basically making sure you’re progressing in the Fine Arts program. You can only fail a review once. The second time, you’re asked to change your major to something non-art related RIP. This was my first review and...... *drum roll* I PASSED!!!! I can’t wait to sleep when I get home tonight.

On to last Friday! What more can I say? It was an amazing show seen with amazing friends @glitteringfrownies and @simonlebon​

We were on Martin’s side, which for makes two concerts on Martin’s side, and one in the middle with Dave. The stage started to get dark and they were playing Revolution by The Beatles, which didn’t last long and they cut to uh... I think Cover Me (alt out). The little legs were marching on the screen while we waited for the band to come out and come out they did. I don’t remember the exact order, but I remember seeing Martin first, then Fletch. Dave finally appeared, but he was on a platform directly in front of the screen projections. It was a really cool sight.

Speaking of screen projections, the one for In Your Room was hands down my favorite. It was beautifully choreographed and I admittedly watched that instead of Dave actually singing the song. I really hope we actually get these on DVD this time around unlike the last tour.

One thing I really want to talk about was what this show meant to me. I remember when I first walked in, Warpaint was finishing up. I wasn’t really feeling the hype yet, and I honestly didn’t feel anything fully until about halfway through Depeche Mode’s actual show. I was tired, stressed, pissed at myself for taking a short vacation when there was so much to do... The band was playing songs I really loved, but I couldn’t bring myself to fully enjoy the experience. It didn’t help that the two guys in front of us were tall and it was hard to take any video or see the actual band. It was making me more irritated to the point where I decided to stop trying to record anything and I angrily shoved my phone back into my dress pocket. I was visibly pissed off at life in the middle of Depeche Mode concert and it was ridiculous. 

Watching the screen projection for In Your Room really brought me back down and I got to thinking about life and how I was at a fucking Depeche Mode concert. I waited 4 years for these guys to come back and I was doing nothing but bringing myself down. Cover Me started playing and I forced myself to enjoy it. I tried filming a bit of it since it’s one of my favorite songs off of Spirit, but it wasn’t the best footage. Afterwards, Martin began his solos, starting with A Question of Lust (first time hearing that live) and then Home. Maybe one day I’ll get Judas live. During his solos, I tried my best to just forget all my problems and it started working. The next few songs, I started dancing more too. We had plenty of room because I guess there were some unsold seats in the row we were in, so we were able to spread out a bit. By the time Everything Counts started playing, I was feeling the full hype I should’ve been feeling the whole show, but I’m happy I at least was finally able to enjoy myself to the fullest. All three of us were shouting THE GRAPH when we could and it was so much fun! 

The next few songs were Stripped, Enjoy the Silence, and NLMDA. I really let go, dancing my heart out and shouting the lyrics until my voice was hoarse. I waved my arms so hard during NLMDA that I thought my arms were just going to fly off and smack Dave in the face, which actually would’ve been ideal. Then the encore came and Martin started singing Somebody (which I think this was actually my first time hearing him sing this live, surprisingly). I was suddenly smacked in the face with this.... just this huge wave of emotion and I started bawling while singing the lyrics. I cried and cried, singing through my tears. I had to grab onto @glitteringfrownies and @simonlebon at one point because I was just suddenly so emotional. I don’t know what it was, but it was one of the most cathartic moments I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. I had truly let go of myself and let the music wash over me. You’ll never read this, but god damn Martin Lee Gore... I owe you my life!!!

For the rest of concert, I went hard and danced like there was no tomorrow. I ended up headbanging a lot during I Feel You which I think is what made my neck sore for the next few days after the concert. I’m so happy I finally got to see them cover Heroes live as well. I almost cried, but I think I was all out of tears due to earlier. It was still very emotional and I’ll never forget it.

My concert experience may have gotten off to a rocky start, but it ended on such a high note that’s been keeping me going through this tough week. I’m so happy Depeche Mode is in my life. I’m happy I got to see them again with people I love, and I can’t wait to see them next time. Until then, I’ll be keeping them close to me, because in the end, they really have helped me through some of my worst times and I can’t thank them enough. Thank you and have a great weekend, y’all! B)

[ruffoverthinksthings]

God Loves You, Which Is Why You’ll Burn In Hell (Part 3): “The Spawn of Heathens, False Gods, and Unbelievers” - Religion for the VKs

Note: This document clocked in at 2,862 words, written in two hours straight.

I officially have a problem, and its name is Disney Descendants Headcanon and Analyses.

By the time most of the VKs have been born, religion has been discredited in favour of worshipping Maleficent, abandoned entirely for the massive Hell that was the Great Isle War (a headcanon of mine, for clarity), or was isolated in Temple Way (the concentrated district of religious establishments, sans the church above Dragon Hall, also a headcanon of mine), with their followers generally incredibly zealous believers, to put it politely.

Most of them have not even been introduced to the idea of religion, or it was only given as explanation as to why people generally stay away from Temple Way, why you should try your damndest to do much the same (no matter how good the potential loot), and why you should try not to associate or talk with the people from there.

As with anything from the Isle, a culture of scary stories to get their children to behave have risen around Temple Way, and the Wild Fae (malevolent gargoyles, chupacabras, actual devils and the like) are not very amused by this.

Before you ask, Maleficent is ambivalent towards religion, happy to have the population do whatever keeps them distracted, complacent, and above all, from thinking of ever trying to overthrow her. She doesn’t even need to keep spies, as “those fools are happy to shout everything they’re planning to do to anyone within earshot.”

She is wary of them since she had harnessed the power of religious extremism and xenophobia during the War to her advantage, but with the aging congregations and her unquestioned, unchallenged rule, “Zealot Watch” is largely dedicated to lieutenants and underlings like Mozenrath.

As I also mentioned, the Badlands (the non-concrete, dirt and grass jungle of the Isle of the Lost) have their own religious beliefs and system, so won’t be included here.

Back on topic: almost all of the VKs are atheists by ignorance, or by choice. There are only a few exceptions to this, with individual/group explanations and how it affects their lives below:

As mentioned in the previous post, Claudine Frollo used to be the most devout of the VKs until CJ set fire to her father’s convent while she was still in it. Before Auradon, she has completely lost her faith in religion and sees it largely as a means of controlling people with promises punishment from some unseen “Higher Being,” and false senses of security that they would protect them, care for them, and reward their piety, both relying largely on them believing that such a Higher Being actually exists on faith alone.

Her current opinion on Hell is that she doesn’t mind going there, as “it can’t be that far from the Isle, and I got used to it anyway, didn’t I?”

Richard “Rick” Ratcliffe is her opposite, still as devout a Christian as ever, though he wasn’t a very good one in the first place. Most of his beliefs and his “divinely inspired” actions involve him having an incredibly overinflated sense of self-worth and confidence, being on a “holy high horse” every time he interacts with pretty much anyone, particularly when he makes one of his infamous speeches, and stealing and robbing from others like the rest of the VKs, except with the justification of him “claiming it for the Church.”

(Which he is. After he takes a cut, because doesn’t a good servant of God deserve to treat himself every once in a while?)

Privately, he still takes comfort in his faith, especially the entirety of Jesus Christ’s life in the New Testament. He sees an idol in the Christian Messiah, as he was a great orator that was constantly attacked, ostracized, and even condemned and killed before people truly realized how great he was.

(Though, he does sincerely hope he can avoid the “foregone death sentence, and being nailed to a cross” bit.)

Mal didn’t have much of an interest in religion, seeing as Maleficent’s demands and “training” of her took up most of her time, and the ultimate goal was that the two of them would supplant the current deities and objects of worship, be the ones the masses are bowing down to and in fear of.

However, for the sake of curiosity (and of course, exploring “truths” outside of everything Maleficent has fed her), she has studied the various religions, mostly through the reading of whatever surviving holy texts and handwritten copies exist on the Isle, with a few oral accounts here and there.

She was a fan of the Torah and Judaism, if only because of the Yahweh that burned down entire cities and turned those that disobeyed Him into pillars of salt (Sodom and Gomorrah, and Lot’s wife); brought massive, crippling, devastating plagues to the enemies of his followers (Moses and the Exodus from Egypt); and struck people dead where they stood if they did something as trivial as spill their semen on the ground (Onan).

She stopped being such a fan by the time she came to the Christian Bible, the New Testament, and Christianity, both because God had “gone soft,” and she wasn’t as big a fan of the idea of the Big Man Upstairs sending a Son to do all of His dirty work for Him, and the whole “Jesus getting humiliated, tortured, and ultimately crucified” being his Father’s will REALLY hit too close to home for her.

The real clincher was when she wasn’t sure if Maleficent would also go through the trouble of bringing her back to life after three days or so.

On a side note, she really liked the idea of having a close circle of twelve followers who obey you no matter what, but it soured when Judas turned on Jesus.

She stopped being such a fan of Allah by the time she was calling Him that as she studied the Quran and Islam (with Jay’s help for actually reading the texts, and why he attempted to convert—more on that in the next post), and saw all the conflicting orders and distinct cultures that had come up from who was ostensibly the same Supreme Deity.

She figured that if God/Allah/Yahweh couldn’t get His followers to agree on what exactly He said, and they had in fact been getting into constant conflict about who’s religion was the “True” religion, He wasn’t worth following.

“IT’S ALL HIS WORDS, YOU DUMBASSES! THIS IS THE SAME BIG GUY UPSTAIRS FOR ALL THREE BOOKS!” is how she put it.

As mighty as His powers of causing widespread suffering and instant death to those that disobeyed Him, that He can't keep house was a complete turn-off.

"Why do you think He's a He?" Maleficent commented. "Hmpf, Men."

She tried studying the other religions and was impressed with some such as Shiva from Hinduism, not so much Taoism with its focus on humility, and she stopped altogether after a brief study of Louisiana Vodoo with Dr. Facillier, and learning that the many, many, many other sects of Christianity she would have to read about in order to truly say that she “knew her enemies.”

At that point, she thought it’d just be much more practical to dedicate her time in learning how to subjugate the people by force than by subverting and abusing their religious practices and beliefs, as she and her mother will be the only thing they’ll be worshiping by the end, anyway.

Evie did very briefly entertain the idea of religion as a source of comfort, until the numerous patriarchal mutations and corruptions of the original traditions and practices made her realize she wouldn’t be able to maintain her current lifestyle, and lose a lot of her personal freedoms beside.

(“Modest and proper dress” was the most obvious deal breaker.)

After the elevator pitch, it was a firm “Fuck that noise!” into permanent atheism. Not even the more liberal and feminist Auradon practices can make her change her mind, though I suppose the stigma she has with the followers there doesn’t help.

Before you ask, a lot of the religious practitioners on the Isle do enforce plenty of incredibly restrictive rules and customs, all in the service of making some form of sanity and order within their communities, and making themselves distinct from the rest of the Isle that basically does as they please, so long as it doesn’t anger Maleficent too much.

Carlos did try to seek out religion as a means of relief in the day-to-day Hell that is being Cruella’s only child and personal unpaid servant, and a tentative form of escape into a better life. However, you could say his mistake/wise decision was talking to Frollo about converting, and after his admittedly rather appealing pitch to him, he opened up the floor for questions.

Carlos’ was this: “Why are some kids born into suffering like us, and others are born in a nice place like Auradon?”

“Child, God tests our faith all the time, to prove that we are worthy of His love, and our ultimate reward in Heaven; it is not something to hold against Him, but merely another part of His glorious, ineffable plan for us all,” Frollo replied.

“… So, like, how does He decide? Is there some sort of criteria about who gets born in a nice life, and who gets born in a bad life…?”

“Child, even the most faithful and Good of us all get tested, should He deem it necessary—just look at His only son, Jesus Christ, and how even with his unwavering faith in Our Father, He decided to push him to the very edge of renouncing his belief in Him all the same.”

“… So you’re basically saying that He just essentially decides on a whim who suffers and who doesn’t?”

Frollo frowned. “De Vil, it is NOT on a whim; to say that He would act in such a random manner is insulting to His greatness. He follows a Plan, known to Him and Him alone, and we are all to play our parts in it without question.”

Carlos nodded, then hopped off his chair. “Okay, that was all I had, thanks Father Frollo!” he said as he walked out of Frollo’s inner sanctum, and away from religion for the rest of his life.

Jay is interesting in that he does take a vested interest in Islam, as it is the one part of his Arabic heritage that Jafar refuses to indulge. The curiosity was first ignited with his adamant refusal to let him read the Quran even though it was one of the most easily acquired texts in Arabic, and Jafar’s incredibly hostile opinion of it.

Islam to him is just “the means for fools and weaklings to comfort themselves, lies that those in power feed to them with glee so they may selfishly keep that power, and the masses will even praise them for it.”

It doesn’t help that he tried to become a Supreme Being himself, and ultimately failed.

His foray into Islam, should he take it like @baby-prince-oppa theorizes he will, will be detailed in a future post. It’s a LOT of words, and this post is already massive, okay?

Freddie has an eclectic, limited education on Christianity and Voodoo, largely attributed to most of Dr. Facillier’s knowledge being in the darker arts as a bokor (a Vodoo Witch Doctor who plays with both good and evil, by definition). Most of it is also limited to strictly practical application such as potions, hexes, and of course the nature of the Shadow Cards.

The culture that had arisen around Louisiana Voodoo and “gris-gris” (charms) is mostly skipped over as Dr. Facillier was never interested in the “good” way to practice it, and they were too wary and knowledgeable of him to be victimized by him, so knowledge of it was largely useless to him. He also doesn’t encourage her to learn or follow the rituals and traditions, and especially not to attend Sunday church at Frollo’s, though this is mostly for safety concerns than religious ones.

(“Never deal with a man who always thinks himself on the right hand of God, sweet potato,” is how he phrases it.)

The only real takeaway she has from it is to be “very wary of the forces out there greater and wilier than mere mortals like ourselves.”

Before you ask, no, he does not encourage her to make deals with loa, his former “Friends from the Other Side.” This is because they are completely reliable; “you better believe they will do what they said when you pony up, and especially when you don’t.”

The Hook Kids (Harriet, Harry, and CJ) and the rest of the pirates/mostly seafaring Villain Kids such as those from the seedier parts of coastal China, all worship the Sea, seeing Her as their “Lady of Life, Bounty, and Death.”

This is even though their experiences with the sea are being beached for most of the year, being unable sail out or ply their trade past a certain distance off the coast where the alligators are especially active, and their (safely) being in water and enjoying themselves is in the underwater half of Serpent Prep, or in the flooded tomb “swimming pool” of Dragon Hall. (Both are headcanons of mine, for clarity.)

A lot of what you can call their religious acts and beliefs center around the vicious, man-eating crocodiles and how they avoid them like… well, vicious, man-eating crocodiles.

“Metaphors are rather twee when what you fear already has sharp teeth, massive mouths, and an insatiable hunger for flesh of any kind,” as Harriet would say.

Uma has been taught about the religious practices and beliefs Sea Witchcraft by Ursula, but she has largely focused on the matters of potion making and utmost respect for senior witches, as these were the ones that are most practical and shut her daughter up for most of the time.

Her knowledge on it is very incomplete because Ursula was a recluse, and she stops bothering with it altogether when she realizes that everything Ursula has her do is no different from the other VKs, just with different reasons behind it.

Even though Zevon has been born in a heavily polytheistic culture where it was an almost inescapable part of everyday living, he has no religion, as Yzma was never a big believer in deities or the emperors supposedly granted divine knowledge and right to rule by them.

(That she personally knows how much of a selfish, shallow, and greedy idiot Kuzco is contributed a lot to this.)

The only thing he can be said to worship is himself (and his mother), as Yzma has fed him many delusions of grandeur, and manipulative encouragements of all of his worst impulses, beliefs, and behaviours, all the traits that would best groom him as her ticket out of the Isle.

Even after infiltrating Auradon, and during his time being at-large, he does not change his mind, as by that point the brainwashing and propaganda Yzma had been feeding into him is so ingrained he sees all other religion as his “rivals,” whose followers he will steal, after he shows them that he is “The true Supreme Deity of all of Auradon!”

Or, as he pronounces it, “The true Super-eemee D-eighty of Auradon!”

The other Western European VKs, such as the Gaston brothers, LeFou Deux, Ginny Gothel, the Tremaines, the Mim Children and Grandchildren, Clay Clayton, Diego de Vil, Jace and Harry—are all atheists, and not likely to ever find or participate religion.

Aside from the fact that their respective universes did not seem to involve the dominant or possible religions at the time (likely because Disney was avoiding the massive kerfuffle that would come with portraying a canonically Catholic French Village while it’s not central to the story like Hunchback of Notre Dame), they generally come from people that put their faith in their names and reputations (de Vil and henchmen, Tremaine, Gaston), their abilities (Clayton, also Gaston), or their magic (Gothel, Mim).

The likes of Madam Mim and Mother Gothel probably know and have had contact with supreme beings and deities (such as the local Hades), but were likely not impressed by them back when they still had their powers, they still aren’t impressed with them now.

Speaking of Hades, his daughter Hadie believes in the existence of her various uncles and aunts, but does not worship them for very obvious reasons. She is a commonly seen figure at her father’s bar, “The Way Down Under,” (a headcanon of mine, for clarity) and has her own small following of loyal worshipers who frequently make tribute to her, though this is mostly because she’s smoking hot with a gift of seduction and a silver tongue.

With the exceptions of Claudine Frollo and Richard “Rick” Ratcliffe, their attitudes towards religion aren’t likely to change if they ever get to (legally) stay in Auradon.

[frommountainstolonestars]

An Open Letter to A7X

To Avenged Sevenfold:

Before I start this letter, let me just preface it with the fact that I have been having some hand/nerve issues and my writing may become disjointed because of that.

I first found out about y’all four—almost five—years ago. The reason I got into y’all is probably a little different than other fans. I’m an avid reader and one of the books I read said to understand the book better, the reader needed to look up the lyrics to “Dear God” by Avenged Sevenfold and then to listen to it. So, like a good reader, I did. I fell in love with that song and had to hear more from this band. (I thought y’all were country). The second song I heard was “Hail to the King” and the change in pace and tempo made me love the band even more. I bought that album (it had just come out) and started listening to all of your other songs. It took about six months for me to get through all the albums, but when I had, you had all awakened a part of me I didn’t know existed.

From my appreciation of your music, I started looking into other hard rock and heavy metal bands. Obviously, I knew who Metallica was, but I started digging into more of their stuff and even got into Judas Priest and Pantera, bands my parents hated and bands I thought I would never like.

When I got my resident assistant job, I was listening to “MIA” and that song became my lucky one. Unfortunately, some things in my life happened that might have torn down another person. It was y’all and other metal bands that helped me through.

You see, I’m a soon-to-be college graduate who has had a difficult six years, but the last two years of my life have been rougher than I ever expected them to be.

It all started in November 2015 when I got this terrible lower abdominal pain. I thought it was cramps or ovulation pain; the emergency room in Texas couldn’t find anything wrong with me. Flash forward to winter break, and I’ve had this pain for four weeks now. My wonderful mom got me into a surgeon, and I’d never been more nervous. I’d only had my wisdom teeth removed, so an actual surgery terrified me. They took me in and let me listen to a couple of songs (“Gunslinger” and “Strength of the World”) before I went under. It turned out I had two ruptured cysts and appendicitis. I easily could have gotten a terrible infection from either.

Time wears on, and I head back to my university (University of North Texas, go Mean Green!). I’m an athlete, have been for most of my life. I run/ran three times a week. My knee started to dislocate when I ran, but I could just pop it back in place. Eventually, it got to the point where running and even walking hurt too much. I waited until summer and returned home to see what the hell was wrong.

From all my years of soccer and running, and continuing to play soccer after a knee injury five years ago, I had torn the ligament that attaches my femur to my patella—the most rare knee surgery. A week before my knee surgery, my incredibly wonderful mother found out that my alcoholic father had stolen and gambled away $3,000 from their joint account. That same say, my father found out that his mother was dying. He flew out to San Antonio to deal with that situation. Mom started the process for divorce. Literally an hour before my knee surgery, I found out my grandmother had died.

When I woke up, I was in the worst pain of my life. My knee had to be immobile for four weeks before I could start physical therapy. I was up every four hours to take Percocet, which we later found out I’m allergic to. Having my leg (my dominate leg) taken away from me and not being able to do things for myself filled me with anger. A lot of what helped me through was y’all and bands similar to you. Post-knee surgery me was the worst, but your music helped me through.

Fast forward again, and I’m now back at school in my final year (Fall 2016) and my life was looking up. I found a publisher for my books, I would be turning 21 in November, and I’d get to see my favorite band with my best friend at Texas Mutiny.

Texas Mutiny was the most incredible concert of my life. I smuggled my DSLR camera in (don’t tell anyone) and captured some of the best photos of my life. That concert helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my photojournalism degree. And for my 21st birthday, my friends surprised me with a signed vinyl of The Stage and several of your CDs. It cheered me up because my birthday was on Election Day and very few people remembered it… which was understandable.

However, my life can’t always be sunshine and rainbows. Nine days before my birthday, I was rushed to the ER after puking up my guts. The ultrasound technician found five ovarian cysts. Three of them were the size of my uterus, and I needed immediate surgery. Because I’m a college student “immediate” meant my next time off. My Thanksgiving break was recovery and more of your music. My wonderful mom came down to Denton to help me through that surgery.

My 2016 winter break was spent writing and getting my older sister to listen to your songs. She really enjoys the white album and even some songs on The Stage. I also examined that album and just fell in love with basically every song. My cover for my book came in, and I got inspired to write a collection of short stories based on songs. My favorite bands are featured quite a bit… I hope that’s okay.

Now, I’m back at school again and my stomach pain comes back. Two months after surgery and the ovarian cysts were back. But something even worse happened at the end of January 2017. I’m a writer and a photographer who depends on her hands for work and stress relief.

At the end of January, my hands started to malfunction. They can’t fully flex of fist, they’re always cold, they get numb and tingling, my wrists and elbows hurt, and my joints are very stiff. My spring break was spent back in Reno getting tests done. They ruled out anything wrong with my central nervous system—thank god—but the pain still remains. And I was scared. I’m still scared actually. I have psoriatic arthritis and it’s incurable. Really the only things helping me are music, the Deathbat nation, my friends, and my mom. To make matters worse, my father had two heart attacks and two surgeries right before I came home. He only has maybe 2-5 years left. He’s an asshole, but I love him.

I know that was the longest intro ever, and y’all are probably wondering why I’m writing this at all at this point. My name is Carmen, and I’m a photojournalist (almost) and recently published author who just wants to thank you guys for everything you’ve done for me and the other fans. So here’s my long list of thank yous.

To all the guys: thank you for forming Avenged Sevenfold. Without you coming together, I wouldn’t have found a lot of my friends. Your music has gotten me through some of the most difficult situations in my life and your music has inspired my writing and made me a better person (the writing portion). There’s something about your music that just speaks to people and has made my life so much brighter. I can’t wait to see you and Metallica in June!

To Brooks: I know you haven’t been with the band long, but I’m glad you’re with them! I loved your drumming when you were with Tenacious D and Bad Religion. You definitely remind me of the dad friend out of all the guys, and I think it’s awesome to see what you add to the band. Your drumming on The Stage is also INSANE. I love what you did on “Angels.”

To Johnny Christ: I don’t think you’re a gnome for starters. You’re much taller than my short ass. All jokes aside, I love how you are on stage. You exude so much passion and energy; I wish I had gotten more photos at Texas Mutiny. You sing/shouting on “Nightmare” also adds a little depth to the song and never fails to put a smile on my face. Oh! Congrats on your son.

To Zacky V: I’m ambidextrous because I have to be from the hand issues, and I so rarely see left-handed musicians that every time I watch you play, it gives me hope. I’m not musically inclined at all, but knowing a lefty is out there brightens my day. You have such an awesome style and your skill with the guitar is out of this world. I hope we can get more solos from you.

To Synyster: dude, you are one of the best guitarists I’ve heard, excluding Santana. I could pick your style out so easily. The work you’ve done with A7X and Pinkly Smooth just blow me away. I can’t believe someone can have talent and skill like that. You are a guitar god, Mr. Haner.

To Shadows: as a writer, I most easily connect with words. Your lyrics speak to me on a spiritual level (which is probably why I have so many tatted on me). You have a way with words. And your voice is so unique and every time I hear “Dear God,” I remember why this band became my favorite. Just, thank you for doing what you do.

To the women of A7X (Val, Michelle, Lacey, Megan, etc.): thank you guys for being you. I hope you know how much love the Deathbat nation has for you. Without your support, the band probably wouldn’t be where they are (no offense guys).

To the fans: thank you guys! I have met so many amazing people through this band. Y’all have helped me through a lot, and I’ve met some good friends through it. Sevenfold has cultivated a fan base unlike any other, and I’d like to thank every Deathbat for who they are and for being so caring and for taking care of me.

So, I just want to say thank you from a fan who’s been through a lot and has made it through thanks, in part, to your music and the most supportive mother ever. The only thing I have to add is that my dream is to one day meet y’all and thank y’all in person. And this final part is going to sound so fucking cheesy, but I hope y’all sign my Deathbat and that the writer side of me gets to write your extended (not brief) biography.

Thanks again for all you have done.

 Sincerely,

Carmen

[preserving-ferretbrain]

Dark, Passionate, and Playful: Nightwish at the Astoria

by Rami

Friday, 28 March 2008Rami gets excited by Finnish metalheads

Oooh! This is in the Axis of Awesome!~

I'll be the first to admit that Nightwish, a symphonic metal band from Finland, are a bit of a niche taste. So if you're not into slightly outlandish metal you probably want to stop right here, and I wouldn't blame you at all. If you are, read on...

Drama on stage is de rigueur for the genre, and Nightwish have had their fair share of drama off stage as well -- not too long ago they kicked out their old singer amidst a host of recriminations. As if to drive the message further home with their fans, they opened the concert with a song aimed directly at the acrimonious split: "Bye Bye Beautiful", from their new album (Dark Passion Play, you see, features a shiny new frontwoman). Fast-paced, heavy, and featuring plenty of powerful vocals from bassist Marco, it certainly worked as an opener and set the tone for a high-energy show to come.

I haven't seen Nightwish live before, except for video clips, so I can't compare performances -- from what I've seen, though, their previous singer Tarja was aloof and reserved, providing her (glorious) voice and very little else to the proceedings (

another review

of the previous night says Tarja "had all the stage personality of a walnut"). Annette, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy -- dancing around the stage, joking with the audience, interacting with the others, and clearly enjoying herself to the full. She also kept little of the limelight to herself, so we were able to see each of the other band members doing what they do best -- performing, be it strumming a guitar, on keyboards, pounding at drums or belting out lyrics at the top of their lungs. They were having a great time, and it showed.

Every piece from Dark Passion Play came out fantastically, with every member of the band in his or her element and the crowd's enthusiasm for the music infusing the performance. I especially appreciated their choices of songs to open up and finish off the concert -- as I've already said, "Bye Bye Beautiful" started things going energetically and unashamedly declared that this was the new Nightwish, and they were proud of it; the last song, "Seven Days to the Wolves", is one of my favorites from the new album as well. I was also impressed to find out that the haunting flute tones in the wholly-instrumental "Last of the Wilds" were actually produced by what looked like a set of bagpipes, expertly played by a guest from the London Philharmonic.

The downside of the new Nightwish is that their older songs fall a little flat -- this was particularly evident during songs where Annette was clearly out of her vocal range and simply couldn't sustain the clear high notes or match Tarja's vocal projection (in "The Siren", for instance, she couldn't help but be drowned out by Marco's more powerful voice). On the other hand, a couple of old favorites -- "Wishmaster" and "Wish I Had An Angel" were raw enough in their tone to work well for her obviously straining voice, and "Nemo" couldn't help but be a hit simply because of the enthusiasm rolling out from the crowd.

On the whole, Nightwish put on a fantastic show -- and if, in future, they focus more on their newer offerings they'll continue to blow the socks off anyone who goes to see them!Themes:

Music and Gigs

~

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Wardog

at 17:46 on 2008-03-31Ahhh, it was brilliant! It took me right back to my misspent youth it did, and reminded me why I'm secretly so fond of symphonic metal. Annette is absolutely adorable and, quite frankly, even though the older songs are slightly out of her vocal range, I prefer her to Tarja. She's much more engaging for a start.

I wasn't so impressed by the support, I have to admit - although perhaps I'm being harsh. They certainly warmed the crowd up effectively, I will say that, but dear God the music was ... well ... not bad (except for their pointless cover of Eleanor Rigby which was excrutiating) but sort of generic. But what can you expect from a Swedish metal band called PAIN. Hilarious quantities of head-banging though.

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Claire E Fitzgerald

at 02:40 on 2008-12-05This is what I like about Ferret - I read about things which would otherwise pass me by with a resounding 'hnn?'.

NOOBQ - how is symphonic metal different from metal? I like symphonies but am pained and disorientated by real metal. Would I like symphonic metal?

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Rami

at 09:33 on 2008-12-05Symphonic metal, to me, basically softens down the rough edges of more traditional metal -- so instead of discordant angrily screaming men, you tend to have melodic angrily screaming women, for instance. Nightwish, in particular, often record with orchestral backing, so a lot of their track sound like a cross between harsh, fast, powerful metal and the grandeur of film-score music. You can try out a couple of tracks on

Last.fm's online radio

...

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Arthur B

at 09:35 on 2008-12-05Based on my experience, you've got mainstream metal, symphonic metal, and extreme metal.

Symphonic metal has vocals tending towards the operatic. Mainstream metal has somewhat aggressive shouting. Extreme metal has vocals ranging from Cookie Monster to Cookie Monster with his blue fuzzy balls in a vice.

Symphonic metal is likely to be influenced by classical music, folk music, and 70s prog rock bands (who, indeed, sometimes described themselves as "symphonic rock"). Mainstream metal is likely to be influenced by Black Sabbath and Judas Priest. Extreme metal is likely to be influenced by a keen desire to upset your parents.

Symphonic metal bands ideally have a very pretty vocalist, and even when they can't manage it are at least well-dressed. Mainstream metal bands have torn jeans and Slayer shirts. Extreme metal bands have an alarming tendency to wear KISS-inspired makeup and fake blood.

Symphonic metal bands do concept albums based on The Lord of the Rings (or their own mythology which basically involves elves and wizards anyway). Mainstream metal bands are less keen on concept albums overall, but will sing about Conan the Barbarian if pressed. Extreme metal bands do concept albums about fucking you to death in the eye socket and shitting on the face of Christ, though if you can actually decipher enough of the lyrics to understand that you're doing pretty well.

The stage shows of symphonic metal bands - well, Rami describes one above fairly well. The stage shows of mainstream metal bands involve more mosh pits. The stage shows of extreme metal bands involve more pig heads on spits.

Symphonic metal bands tend not to sing about Satan. Mainstream metal bands will occasionally mention about how cool Satan is. Not only will extreme metal bands never shut up about Satan if/when they get onto the subject, but they're much more likely to be serious about it.

I can't tell you whether or not you'd like symphonic metal: ultimately, it is still all about the loud guitars, but this time they borrow more from Mozart than from Tony Iommi. You could do a lot worse than checking out some Nightwish or Rhapsody of Fire or Dragonforce videos on YouTube.

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Wardog

at 09:51 on 2008-12-05I have say I'm loving the random article generator since it seems to be calling up fine under-loved articles from Fb's past.

For what it's worth, I adore Nightwish ... they're just so *dramatic* and, as people have said, they're loudly melodious as opposed to just, y'know, *loud*.

Arthur: you missed out VIKING METAL!

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Arthur B

at 10:04 on 2008-12-05Viking metal straddles everything, like a giant of Jotunheim; you've got stuff ranging from symphonicy-folky bands with Viking flavours to mainstream bands who happen to wear horned helmets on stage to, on the extreme metal end of things, racist madmen like

Varg Vikernes

. Though the guys on the folk metal end of the spectrum probably have a better grasp of Scandanavian history and culture than most.

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Rami

at 10:09 on 2008-12-05

it is still all about the loud guitars

Sometimes it's the loud organs or amplified choral scores too ;-)

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Wardog

at 10:51 on 2008-12-05Tee hee. You said organ.

(sorry, it's Friday, I'm hysterical).

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TheMerryMustelid

at 21:14 on 2012-04-21Was it the 90's where 'Nordic Rock' started getting more recognition around the world? For me it started with the stratospheric popularity of the Bulgarian Women's Music Choir. They toured once & when they were in my city I happened to be in the front row, bawling me widdle eyes out. (one of them actually came up to me after the show and put a sympathetic hand on my tear-stained face, making me of course cry even

more

).

From there I got got into Latvian, Lithuanian, Finnish, and all things musically Baltic. It was the rocking reinterpretations of Baltic traditional music I enjoyed more that Viking Metal per se. I love Vartinna, Garna, Hedingarna, Gallahorne, Mari Bonne which are band names I'm most likely mispelling. But they are all worth checking out.

I like metal about as much as I like rap, which is to say, not very much. The metal I do like either has a sense of humor about themselves (Rob Zombie and DeathClock) or are unapologetically Pagan in their themes (that is, done for acutal

spiritual

value and not for mere shock/schlock value).

[bushleaguefpl-blog]

DO YOU BELIEVE IN JINXES? GEORGE AND THE INVINCIBLES

We’re 4 weeks down and the dreaded international break is upon us. We have a clear leader sitting atop The Bush with a zero loss record and a tonne of managers sitting only one point behind him. With the incoming break though The Bush is surely in line for a shakeup with incoming injuries, a wildcard shower more golden than those Rowan collects from 14 year olds, and apparently a little light racism? Brody’s learnt photoshop and It’s GW4 IN THE BUSH!

It’s toight as a tiger at the top of The Bush at the moment with the top 9 managers with only a 1 point spread between them. A start to The Bush this even has never been seen as the opening weeks are usually extremely troublesome for managers as the season takes ahold. Usually down to a huge variety in teams with random sporadic performances from players, this year however the ownership of players throughout the league is much less wide spread. Call it down to an all in method regarding proven 2017/18 scorers, but The Bush is stagnant with Salah, Aguero and Mane ownership, with the deciding factor being less than a few points in 95% of the matches so far this season. As you can see from the table, the tippy top is looking to be a dogfight after the international break concludes.

George “Specialist in...” Chittleborough has had a great run over the first few games and as it stands, is undefeated through his first four. We at The Bush are selectively superstitious, and we’re leaving it down to you whether we Jinx the Wenger boys by asking... “How long can he stay invincible”. Looking back to Bush3, the manager of the month curse loomed heavily throughout the year, being the undoing of a number of strong managers. Should GC get the popular vote for MOTM... it’ll surely have him quaking in his boots. Looking ahead though, George’s fixtures look strong, having a fixture against embattled and lowest scoring manager Blake “Choker Chopper” Hands up next and a visit to the Morgan “Out Witts[ed]” Witts’ Hurrikanes camp the week after that. Judging on the stats and the form of a manager looking to emulate the early Wenger years rather than the latter, he should be sitting pretty sweet through the end of game week 6 (Shade thrown Blake and Morgan). George however, is keeping his eye on the prize and always looking to improve focusing on why he drew rather than the wins stacking up: “I was one Sanchez no-show away from 4″. He’s the man to beat, let’s see how The Bush responds.

But hey, I know we at The Bush times like rewarding failure but we’re in a good mood, so let’s keep the good vibes going and discuss a manager who’s been in The Bush since season 2 and has been slowly growing in momentum each year. Of course, it’s your favourite Mullet-growing, Diego Costa-esque, bustling utility man Alex “Mine’s better than Dustin Martin’s” Horne. Alex had a shit first year, coming in a fair way down the table and I’m sure increased commitment to work at McDonald’s or a forgotten password will probably be an excuse for why his attention was elsewhere during his debut season. Last year, improvements were shown before crumbling down the table in a run of losses that he couldn’t quite recover from. However, so far he sits in that top portion of managers on 9 points, with a decent and league best 267 points from his first 4. We’re proud to see flourishing Bush Careers and we hope one day certain OG managers could show this sort of improvement (*Cough* Madde “38-0″ Bowshire *Cough*). Alex set his team up well and has also been lucky, dropping a free hit chip early on in the season to grab a fantastic win over fellow frontrunner Harrison “I shoulder the write up every week :’((((((” Kennedy. Alex copped some flack from illustrious manager Logan “Have you seen my haircuts?” McIndoe who claimed it was a fuck up to use the Free Hit instead of the wildcard but hey, a win is a win right?

Just jumping back to Madde for a second though. Do y’all remember when he claimed he was going to be a top 4 team? We do... Well things started out well for the long time bottom dweller with a great win in week 1 over former-former-former champion Rowan “This is what hitting the bottom feels like” Flanagan (a loss to Madde set the tone for Rowan huh?) before an unlucky loss to Horney’s Heroes set Madde on a path to what could be a new season of destruction. For those of you who don’t know Madde, he’s a genius, a soon-to-be doctor and a science nut. So for him, we’ve set out his season graphically, in a way he’ll understand, using a new algorithm we’ve produced at The Bush Times to map out his ego paired with his projections against the reality of things and this is what we’ve come up with and we must say...something has to change in the Sneed’s camp whether that be ego or personnel...

Yikes...God speed Bowshire....banter aside we really really really want that top 4 finish from you this year. You’re on holidays now...research and get back on the Horse!

We have to shout out the worst fixture of the year so far this week with Guy “Spoon 2″ Ethell and Reid “Happy as Judas on crucifixion day” Kennedy giving us one of the worst performances and worst scoring games so far. Both managers struggled, with Reid finally getting his lowest scorers on the bench...but also keeping the lowest on the pitch. Guy was lucky to escape this one with an equally mediocre performance, only grabbing 30 from the game week. Both managers need to get cracking if they hope to keep in touch as the leadership group look to pull away through game weeks 5 and 6. 

Congratulations are in order for Riley “Water is Jesus’ favourite drink” Guest who will surely be hitting the early bird specials this weekend for a first win bender. Congratulations lad, it’s always tough busting that first nut but we, and the almighty, are proud of your tenacity and wish you all the best for the coming weeks. let’s go newbies! Hilarious that Rowan is the only person yet to win this year....

Now...The Bush Times doesn’t usually like to get political, we’re one of the only media outlets not owned by Rupert Murdoch and his gang of corruptible conservatives and we like to keep our speech free and without political influence. However, there’s always exceptions. We live in the times of Trump, Brexit and Mourinho’s final meltdown, but The Bush always seems to escape troubling times unscathed. This week however, a darker turn was shown as one manager turned a little bit too “North Queensland” on us. Ben “Institutionalised” Petersen was understandably upset this week as his unbeaten run came to an end at the hands of Kirby “Quick boys the Misso is out” Lloyd. However, Ben seemed to hold the blame firmly upon Mo Salah’s FIRST LESS THAN 3 POINT GAME so far of the season and decided to throw out a slur that we’ve asked our Lawyers if we’re allowed to print...

Well....there you have it....Fair Play has been corrupted and #SayNoToRacism has come crashing down lads. All aboard, let’s build a wall and keep our players white only...Benny boy, if Salah is in your team after the international game week we’ll know your political beliefs are as flimsy as your team was this week. WE LOVED YOU BEN. YOU WERE THE MOST HUMBLE OF THEM ALL. WHERE TO FROM HERE? FUCK. THIS HURTS. I WANTED TO RIDE THAT MOUSTACHE.

On that note I’m going to rap it up...I’m tired man...tired of believing in things...like myself and my fantasy team. Good luck no doubt with all of you dropping your wildcards this international break you bloody sheep. As always,  Get commenting on our posts and contribute to the banter. No excuse considering the amount of people we’ve got (28 people fuck me, I can only type so much you fucks). But! We’ll see you in just over a week for GW5...big things ahead lads. let’s get transferring

[tessatechaitea]

Detective Comics #950

Great. An extra long comic book. I fucking live for these.

Well then Christine Montclair is an idiot because she lives in a fucking comic book where all kinds of supernatural things happen on a near constant basis.

• Does anybody remember the haunted Toys "R" Us in Sunnyvale, California? It was on That's Incredible or one of those weird shows of the early 80s. Maybe Ripley's Believe It or Not. But not Real People since that show was about real people and not fake people like ghosts. Anyway, that was the Toys "R" Us where I got all of my Atari cartridges and Star Wars Figures! I never saw the ghost. Probably because (Spoiler Alert!) it wasn't real.

Well, now it's certain she's an idiot. She doesn't even believe in creepy stalkers! Come on, Christine! Smarten up! You live in Gotham! Four out of every five guys are creepy stalkers lurking in the shadows watching young women dance!

• It turns out the creepy stalker is Cassie just trying to learn how to dance. When she's caught by Christine (who still gets to not believe in ghosts and creepy stalkers because Cassie wasn't either. Maybe I'm the idiot!), Cassie doesn't want to scare Christine so she just throws a smoke bomb and runs away. That seemed like a reasonable reaction. • The Omniscient Narrator (who is rarer than ghosts in DC Comics) turns their attention to Cassie Cain and is all, "Cassie believes in ghosts! Oh, you better believe it! Boy howdy, does she! So real, ghosts are!" And that's the prologue to the prologue! • James Tynion IV seems to have chosen to use an Omniscient Narrator this issue so that he could write lines like this: "Every gesture, every twitch of muscle in her face, forming words in a sentence that Harper doesn't know she might as well be shouting at her." Pee-yuke! If you want to write Young Adult Literature, write Young Adult Literature, Tynion! This is a comic book! Utilize the medium you're writing in to the best of your ability rather than writing a short story and sticking it in Narration Boxes and letting the art be the sidekick to your masturbatory wordsmithing! • "Cassandra envies the way the emotions just bleed from her friend's body." Gross! It's like full body menstruation! • "Even more, the way they can just tumble out of her mouth without effort." So evocative of barfing! • The conceit here, if I may act like I know how to use the word conceit in a critique of another person's writing, is that Cassie can't articulate what she's feeling. So while her responses are short and clipped, Tynion has decided to contrast her stifled expression with the overly expressive Narration Boxes. They're the things Cassie would say if she could. Although she'd probably fill Harper with revulsion using all those disgusting body function metaphors. But then when you're raised to know only death and killing, what other metaphors are at your disposal?! • Cassandra is sad that she didn't get to be a regular girl and was instead made to grow up as a weapon of destruction. Bah. First world problems! • After visiting Harper and finding she cannot express her needs to her, Cassandra seeks out Batman. She defeats a drug ring and saves some children but he does not hug her. Not like the time before. That one time. That time she seeks desperately. Now, he treats her kindly but warily. He sees the potential threat she could be if she lost control, and it hurts her. She cannot express what she needs to Batman, so she moves on. • Um, anyway, Cassie runs from Bat-family member to Bat-family member thinking, "I wish I could say the things I want to say to them! Boo hoo!" Then she goes home to dance which is the way she shouts back at the city because body language was her first language. On a rooftop across the way, Shiva spies on her and says, "I hear you girl! I'm coming!" Sexy! Also, I didn't know Shiva was that good at reading body language. • There's a second story but it's about Azrael and I hate Azrael so I'm going to pretend it doesn't exist.

Plus there are Bat-Sentinels in it. I really want to pretend those don't exist.

• At least the Bat-Sentinels were part of the Clayface Danger Room. So it's not like anything was really stolen from the X-men. • Azrael isn't just a religious nut whose secret identity is basically Cousin Oliver from The Brady Bunch. Apparently, he's also a twelve step junkie. Ugh, I can't stand him! I'm ignoring this story! • Luke Fox is one of those atheists that people who aren't atheist think all atheists are. He's all, "I need a reason to believe shit! Proof and what not! I am super logical!" But some atheists are just all, "I can live with doubt. I can live with heaps and heaps and heaps of doubt. I don't need to know how the universe began or why people exist. I can live with no meaning. I'm an atheist because even though I don't know even a small percentage of the mystery of everything, I know that God doesn't exist. It doesn't fit anywhere inside the model of life and the universe. It is an outside idea that nobody studying the theory of everything would ever come up with. God is outside the system and thus not an answer as to why the system exists or works. The whole creation has to have a creator argument is legerdemain and misdirection. It's an assumption that our own lives are a reflection of the rest of reality. And it's expressly ignorant of the idea that if something needs to be created then what created God? As soon as you suggest God didn't need to be created, you are allowing that a thing can exist that didn't need to be created (at least in the way our minds can process the idea of creation). And if you can believe that, why can't you believe the universe itself is that thing that didn't need to be created by a creator? I'm really just one step away from agreeing with Creationists." • As Atheistwing and Friend of Billzrael have their philosophical debate, the Azrael mask watches and learns. Maybe. I don't know. Anyway, the Order of St. Dumas have created a new angel to do their revelatory bidding: Ascalon! • There's still another story! This one about Batman and Red Robin. Basically it's just Red Robin asking Batman why he's preparing for war and Batman not answering him. Typical! The Ranking! +1! Okay, this issue had some good shit in it. I can admit when I was being disingenuous in some of my earlier critiques in the bullet point portion of this review! I mean, can I? Really? I'm always disingenuous in my reviews! I think I'm usually honest about that though, right?