#i actually started this fuckin ages back before the full release of the song came out this year and then i just had to finish it right?

[angermango]

i think Joltik mad Emmet is the funniest fanon concept tbh

[original insp: Everything Smells Like Salmon by Tom McGovern]

("fuck it up Emmet! [insane keyboard solo]")

[sideblog-666-thousand]

Euronymous Interview in Decibel of Death, ‘87. English Translation. Ft. Euronymous’ depraved torture fantasies involving Coca-Cola.

‘Decibel of Death’ was a French fanzine from the 80s. It’s first issue was released in ‘86, and by the summer of ‘87, it switched over from French to English-language. This has been my favourite interview of Euronymous for a long time now, so I decided I’d translate it to English so that other, non-francophone, people could enjoy it too. This issue in particular is from February of ‘87, and was their fourth issue overall.

I’ll add a link to where you can find this, and other D.O.D scans, below. If anybody wants me to translate more French, or Russian, interviews, feel free to PM me.

Note: NDLR is the editor’s notes. Any commentary or context by me will be in bold and in parenthesis, so feel free to totally ignore it. If something is between “« »” it’s because it was already written in English to begin with.

Disclaimer: if some of the sentences sound like the energizer bunny is hooked on an iv rig full of pure meth, don’t blame me, I did my best. Take it up with Euronymous himself. Also, I’m not excusing Euronymous’ poor behaviour, I’m just saying his poor behaviour is kind of entertaining.

Without further ado...

D.O.D: And once again, here’s Norwegian Mayhem. If you remember, we presented them to you back in the May issue of D.O.D. Since then, they released a new demo titled “Death Crush”!! Because of this event, we decided to ask the guitarist of this rather sinister band a few questions.

D.O.D: Okay, there’s been more than a few line-up changes in Mayhem. Can you tell us what the current one is?

Euro: Alright, there’s me on guitars, Manheim on battery, Necro-butcher on drums, and our session vocalist, Maniac.

D.O.D:  And what is the medium age of the group?

Euro: We are all 18 years old.

D.O.D: How long has Mayhem been around for?

Euro: Mayhem has been around since August of ‘84 with this line-up, before that, I played in another shitty metal group that was also called Mayhem. The other members also played in a crappy band before we all met.

D.O.D: How would you describe your music?

Euro: Ah, well, it’s like a wall of sound played at extreme speed all mixed with the sound of a chainsaw!!

D.O.D: In your opinion, who are the biggest posers on this planet?

Euro: That definitely has to be the Swedish group ‘Europe’. «Fuck them!!» I hate this band!!

D.O.D: Ha ha, what would you like to do to make them suffer?

(This is the exact moment where the interviewers realize that Euronymous is literally fucking insane. The editor censors some of the things Euronymous says because he has a very vulgar manner of speaking, so, brace yourselves. To make it abundantly clear— I didn’t censor any of this, if it was me, I’d let him continue swearing ‘til next year if he wanted to. Take it up with D.O.D!)

Euro: First of all, I’d cut them and make them eat their own (bleep)!! Then, I’ll fuck them in the ass with an empty bottle of Coke, and if they’re still alive somehow, I’ll drown them in their own piss!! (NDLR: I’d do the same to a few guys in Germany and Switzerland!!) But all of this is reserved for their guitarist, drummer and bassist, I have a far crueler torture for their singer, for him, I’m simply going to break his mirror and steal his perfume!! Haaaaafuckinghah!!! (NDLR: ahahahaha, this is so much fun!!)

D.O.D: Okay, Euronymous, onto more serious topics, who composes the most in Mayhem?

Euro: It’s me and Necro, but sometimes Manheim comes up with good riffs, he actually wrote most of P.F.A (Pure Fucking Armageddon)

D.O.D: I believe thrashers reacted pretty well to your first demo, right?

Euro: Despite the zero sound of this demo. It's true that it's actually the hardcore thrashers that appreciated it, although it was the others hating it that gave us an enormous promotion like with 'Metal Forces'.

D.O.D: Has there been groups that have influenced you?

Euro: Of course, early Venom has really inspired us, although we don’t sound like them in any way. We’re also influenced by bands like Hellhammer and Sodom.

D.O.D: Mayhem is a common band name, what do you think of other Mayhem (such as NYC Mayhem, Mayhem (WC), Mayhem (Oregon))?

Euro: NYC Mayhem* are excellent, I adore them! (NDLR: me too!!) and they call themselves NYC Mayhem. But as for the other Mayhems, they stink, «fuckin’ shit»,  like the Mayhem that’s on Metal Massacre VI*, they really stink, their music isn’t destructive like ours is at all, they don’t deserve this name, I hate them!!

D.O.D: I heard you guys played a show, how did that go?

Euro: It was really «cool», it was at a small rock festival that had around 3-400 «discofucks» (NDLR: this is the censored translation) and when we went on stage with our first session vocalist “Messiah”, we broke a bass over their mouths!! We gave these idiots hell!! Ha ha!! (I’ll link the show he’s referring to below)

D.O.D: And how did your other gigs go?

Euro: For now this has been our only show!! And we don’t know how the crowds will react at the prospect of future gigs.

D.O.D: Fair. Since we’re talking about future gigs, what will those be like?

Euro: They’ll be full of occult things, we’ll play in complete darkness and there’ll be red blood spots, chandeliers, smoke, and pig heads on stakes, it’ll be totally thrashing!!

D.O.D: How’s the Norwegian thrash scene? It’s pretty dull, no?

Euro: Right now, «it sucks», there’s no audience, but it seems to be going in the right direction with bands like Vomit*, Septic Cunts, Decay Lust, and Flowers in The Dustbin.

D.O.D: And what kind of things are your lyrics about?

Euro: depravity, like tearing someone’s (bleep), eating worms, and all those fine things!!

D.O.D: What are your favourite bands?

Euro: Really hard question, there’s so many good bands coming out but I think the bands I like the most are old Venom, Deathchamber, Sodom, Necrophagia, Destruction, Death, Kreator, Poison. (No, not THAT Poison)

D.O.D: Do you ever listen to hardcore?

Euro: «Yeah» I like Chaotic Discord, Septic Death, UK Subs, and others. It hasn’t been that long since I went to see Disorder and it was awesome!!

D.O.D: Are you considering going on tour?

Euro: No, not exactly. But soon we’ll play at a Norwegian thrash festival. We’ll also play at a thrash festival in Copenhagen, and probably do a few shows with Kreator/Necrophagia in ‘87.

(No, this isn’t a typo on my end, it actually says ‘87. There’s two reasons why this might be the case. One, it could be an error on the part of the editor, who deserves an interview of his own, or two, it could be an error by Euronymous himself since the interview might have been conducted in January. Euronymous could have mixed the years up as one sometimes does. However, ‘Death Crush’, the demo, actually came out in March of ‘87. What the interviewer and Euronymous are referring to as ‘Death Crush’ is likely ‘Death Rehearsal’, which is exactly what it sounds like, and was taped back January of ‘87.)

D.O.D: I heard you guys are recording a new demo, is it ready?

Euro: We just entered the studio to record the second “Death Crush” demo, but at the moment, we only have three songs. I’m also unsure of whether or not we’ll have enough money to record anything else, and the vocals still haven’t been put to music!!

D.O.D: There’s some rumours that you guys were contacted by certain record labels, is this true?

Euro: It’s true, we got a letter from Axe killer records saying that they were interested in us but they never listened to our music and I also sent them our demo tape but I don’t believe we’ll be receiving any letters from them now!!

D.O.D: Do you have anything to add?

Euro: Of course, «fucking ARGHHHH!!»

There, that’s all :)

If you’re interested in some of the asterisks I put in, here they are in order of their appearances:

*Unlike most of the bands Euronymous named in this interview, NYC Mayhem (and later as Straight Ahead) never released more than a few demo. They were a straight edge band from, you guessed it, NYC— Queens to be exact. Despite never releasing a full album, their sound inspired some grindcore and death metal bands, notably Carcass. They were also straight edge, which makes Euronymous’ mental breakdown over the Mayhem that was on Metal Massacre very, very ironic. Especially considering he was pretty straight edge himself, especially back in 1987– outside of maybe smoking some pot.

Here is their 1985 demo, https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=t-3geR1JbY4

*Metal Massacre is a series of compilation albums starting in 1982, released by Metal Blade records. Typically, these were independent and unsigned bands. Some notable ones include Metallica on the first edition with ‘Hit the lights’. Slayer in ‘83 with ‘Aggressive Perfector’. The ‘84 edition had Voivod, Overkill, and Hellhammer.

The one which Euronymous is referring to, however, is the one from ‘85. Here it is, the timestamp is 14:19 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=HqwfsLvLvuY

It’s really not that bad— certainly not worth the double exclamation points.

*If you don’t know who Vomit are, you must not know much about early Mayhem. They were another thrash band who shared rehearsal space with Mayhem. Torben Grue and Kittil Kittilsen (what a sad fucking name) were also ‘in’ Mayhem at some point. Kittil once shaved off his eyebrow, but I don’t know why. Here is a picture of the dork:

The show Euronymous is talking about: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=mjay2Lmj9C8 yes, this is the show where Euronymous flashes his ass. I think it’s funny because he talks big but he seemed very hesitant to do it, and practically ducked backstage afterwards. Necro, on the other hand, was very proud to have broken his bass.

Well, that’s all I have. If you read this far, I hope you enjoyed the additional notes I left. Outside of a few more interviews of Mayhem, I also have a few obscure Emperor interviews that were posted to the internet in late 90s. There’s an especially funny one where Faust is allowed to interview Ihsahn and Samoth from prison. He’s sarcastic the entire time, refers to the readers as ‘morons’ and proclaims everyone should all die in a nuclear war with the same energy you cross yourself with. Overall, it’s a funny read. I also have one where he interviews Varg, and Euronymous (separately) for his own ‘zine back in the early 90s. Actually— I have A LOT of interviews of Faust for some reason, including two where he’s actually on camera. I might post them if I feel like it, or if somebody wants them. Is anyone here an especially big fan of Faust?

Last but not least, here is the link to the ‘zine:

http://france.metal.museum.free.fr/revues/fanzines/decibel_of_death/04/page_03.htm

[satendou]

⟼ if the glove fits

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: kuroo tetsuro/reader

⇢ au: aged up!au

⇢  summary: you find a pair of gloves from one of kuroo’s old cosplays. yeah.

⇥  masterlist  

⇥ make a request! | rules

⇢ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, glove kink, fingering, daddy kink, kuroo calls you a slut like 6 times or somethin’

⇢  word count: 4.2k

a/n: i killed @keijiskitten​ with this one so thank you for your sacrifice queen sksks

You sat in the middle of the room, humming a tuneless song quietly to yourself as you rifled through the box in front of you, looking for anything worth keeping. It was getting close to the day you were supposed to move, which meant deep cleaning. The rest of the bedroom was littered with similar boxes, some packed for the move, some slated for good will. Somewhere in the apartment, you heard glass shatter followed by a curse and winced.

Sighing, you looked at the small book full of “waifu stickers” you had picked up out of the box and your frown quickly turned into a smile. Flipping through it, you giggled at the memory of how you came into possession of it.

Kuroo’s voice broke you out of your thoughts, sounding aggravated and a little reticent as he said, “I broke that stupid bowl you got from Ko. You know, the one with the things on it.”

“The sunflowers?” you asked, looking up at his towering figure in the door. He was scratching the back of his head, looking around the room at the mess. He was enjoying this just as much as you were, complaining about it every ten minutes since you’d started. “I hated that bowl anyway. He’ll be disappointed though.”

Throwing the book in your hands into another box, you dug in again only to hear the fluttering of pages. When you looked up again, he had the sticker book in his hands and was grinning that grin he got when he was thinking about something evil.

“Do you remember the face Kenma made when I stuffed this in his hands at the con? It was priceless. I thought he was really gonna explode,” he said, snickering into his hand. He flipped to the one empty page in the book and burst out laughing.

You couldn’t help but giggle as well, remembering the deep flush that had overcome Kenma when he realized what Kuroo had given him, furtively looking around to make sure no one else had seen before he stuffed it away into his bag, never to be looked at again.

Well, until Kuroo stole it back and plastered a whole page's worth of stickers onto his brand new notebook. He was so proud of himself for that, just waiting for Kenma to take it out in full view of the class, and he wasn’t disappointed. Kenma had turned such a vivid shade of red when he caught sight of all the half-naked women that you swore his head was going to erupt and you couldn’t help but laugh at him then too. He had spent the rest of the day fielding awkward questions and casting baleful looks at Kuroo who, of course, found the whole thing hysterical and didn’t stop talking about it for days afterwards.

“We gotta keep this, babe,” he said, throwing it onto the bed. Even if he’d never use the stickers again, it was a memory he was fond of, though he loved all the memories of that con. It was the first one he had gone to with you and he smiled as he thought of the way you had run around wide-eyed in awe, tugging him and Kenma to all the artist and vendor stalls, pointing out the games you were interested in and wanted to try, and chatting animatedly with the cosplayers dressed as your favorite characters.

You, Kenma, and Kuroo had all sported costumes of your own, dressed from three different series and happily geeking out over everything the venue had to offer. It was one of his favorite memories with you, aside from when you agreed to date him, of course. 

And probably the first time you fucked, as well, but that was to be expected. It was Kuroo, after all.

Something in your hand caused you to smile, gaining his attention, and he wandered over to peer over your shoulder. Anything that made you smile like that had to be good, and coming from that box it could be anything.

It turned out to be a glove, a soft leather glove that he had bought specifically for the cosplay he was going to wear for that convention. He had cut that suit so fuckin’ nice, if the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him the whole day had anything to say about it.

Or the way you couldn’t keep your hands off of him that night in the hotel room. Thank god Kenma had his earphones in while he slept, because there was no way he wouldn’t have been woken up by the two of you fooling around in the bed beside his.

“Oh, that brings back some memories,” he said, and grinned at the flush that dusted your cheeks. You knew exactly what he was talking about it, and the way your fingers tightened around the glove told him you did. Lust lanced through him and he forgot about the fact that he was supposed to be cleaning, more interested in how hard he could rile you up.

As hard as he was, hopefully.

The glove slipped from your fingers, a long, tan arm reaching past you to pluck the other one up from the box. His breath ghosted over your ear, his words so innocent but absolutely dripping with purposeful intent and sinful promise. “Let’s see if they still fit.”

You froze, heart dropping to your stomach, fighting against the urge to moan as he nipped at the shell of your ear. It was astounding how he could go from light and airy to this like the flip of a switch. It was enough to give you whiplash, and it made you squirm with new arousal.

“Don’t move, baby,” he commanded, watching your shoulders tense and your fingers curl into your palm, but you didn’t move, like the good girl you were. The gloves slid on without resistance, just as soft and pliant as they were the day he bought them, and he actually felt relief. It would have sucked if his plans fell through, especially after he’d gotten himself all worked up thinking about it. He still clearly recalled that night in the hotel, how wet you were and the way you gushed as he fingered you with those gloves on.

The leather was smooth against your skin as he caressed your cheek from behind. You could recognize the feel of it instantly and your arousal went from 2 to 10 in a split second. We were already, you were remembering the feel of them in the dark, unable to see anything that he was doing, completely at his mercy.

You shifted uncomfortably, your panties sticking to your wet core, as his hands traveled from your cheeks, down the front of your shirt, and over your clothed breasts before they turned over.

“Watcha think, princess? They still fit. Think they still feel the same?” he asked and heard your breath hitch. He wanted to laugh at how easy you were. Everything was written all over your face and he was about to cash in.

You could feel him shaking against your back, knew he was trying to contain his laughter, but it wasn’t fair. His words were said in such a light an airy way, like he really was just asking an innocent question, but there was more to it. There had been more to it since he’d worn them for the first time ages ago, and you cracked a wobbly grin at the memory of what those gloves had felt like.

They felt strange as they gathered your hair up, fingers weaving in the knot before your head was roughly yanked back. This was what you loved about Kuroo, the way he could go from soft and teasing to dominating and rough, and you it made you shiver with anticipation. There wasn’t much you could think to do, with his free hand sliding up and over your stomach. It was then you realized that he was kneeling behind you and your eyes fluttered open to look up at him staring down at you. He was so tall, leaning over you, wearing a feral grin. It wasn’t fair that he was so attractive, that he had such a strong power over you, and you wanted to pout.

“I’m waiting, princess,” he said, tugging at the handful of hair he still held.

Oh, he was serious, using that name. That meant he was heated and would treat you nice if you listened. It always sent chills through you, made your lips part and a whine leave your lips. His smirk widened as your pupils blew wide, that little noise of pleasure making his hard cock twitch and he was suddenly glad he was wearing sweats. It would have been annoying to have it trapped in the tight confines of a pair of jeans, and now he could enjoy playing with you without trouble.

It took longer than he liked for you to finally answer, but he couldn’t blame you too much. It was a power he wielded over you and he took pleasure in how spaced out he could make you feel with a few sweetly whispered words and well placed touches. He wanted to laugh at the way that even just slipping on a pair of gloves could turn you on, if it was him doing it. But you finally did answer, a meek, “Yes,” reaching his ears. 

It was full of submission and he knew underneath your shorts, your pussy was soaked*.

“Good girl. Now,” he said, releasing his hold on you and moving back just a little, “strip.”

You turned to face him, but he didn’t want to make it easy. He remained on his knees and wrapped his hands around your inner thighs as you stood before him, trying to remove your shirt. He felt the heat radiating from between them, letting his thumb run gently over where your clit would be and you trembled, your shirt finally landing with a soft ruffle on the floor a little ways away. When you started to tug at your shorts, he squeezed, leering up at you. 

The way he licked his lips shorted your thoughts out, narrowing down to a want to feel his mouth on your nipples, biting and sucking in that way that made your head spin. But Kuroo seemed to have other plans, even if he really, really looked like he wanted to fulfill your need.

“No, princess, I think I’ll take care of these. I wonder…” he said, hook his gloved fingers under the hem of your shorts. The leather was soft as it grazed your skin on the way down, the gusset of your panties peeling away from your drenched folds. “You’re absolutely soaked, just like I thought. You really are a slut for gloves, huh?”

His words made you flush, equal parts embarrassed and aroused at the way he was smirking up at you from his knees. Even though you now towered over him, he still held all of the control, lifting first one foot and then the other to free your ankles from your shorts. He wasn’t wrong that it turned you on, and you couldn’t even explain why. Just...something about seeing him in them turned off the rational part of your brain and turned on whatever was attracted to gloves.

He was expecting an answer, and you bowed your head down, your cheeks aflame as you whispered, “Y-Yes, I’m a slut for gloves.”

But he clicked his tongue, giving you a severe look and you were confused until he prompted, “Yes, what*?”

Oops. Before you could rectify, his hands were sliding up between your legs, thumbs splitting your lips apart so he could stare unimpeded at your glistening core. His tongue wetted his lips, mouth watering to taste you, but you needed to earn it, first.

All you wanted was to feel those gloves sliding inside of your slick hole and you buckled quickly, clutching your hands to your chest. Hot tears pricked your eyes, embarrassment fueling your arousal at his open staring. 

“I’m waiting, princess.”

This time when Kuroo prompted you, there was a hint of warning in it, a dark promise that if you wanted this to continue nice and slow and teasing, you had better answer him. Of course, he was more than willing to change course if you decided you wanted to be a brat and disobey him. If he had to have his way, he’d like a nice repeat of that first night before he started leaving pretty handprints all over your ass, but he’d take it either way. And you knew that.

“Y-Yes, daddy. I’m sorry,” you said, your voice whiny and soft and music to his ears. He’d never get tired of hearing the way you needed him, his hands on your skin, his cock bringing you to completion, his name ripping from your throat every time. “I’m your little slut for gloves, daddy. Please touch me.”

A groan tore from his throat at that. It was a good touch, you manipulative little brat, and he almost wanted to punish you now anyway. But he refrained, chuckling darkly at the mental image of your ass covered with his handprints, dark leather soothing the sting from repeated slaps. He supposed he would just stow that away for later, when you decided you did want to act up.

This time, though, he tugged you forward until you were standing with your legs spread on either side of his knees, slick pussy hovering just over his lips. If he were to sit up just a little, he was sure that you would smear all down his chin and he wanted so bad to find out if that was the case. He held back though, not wanting to overwhelm you too much. He started out slow, letting his covered fingers slide through your folds, coating them in your essence. They were so wet, in fact, that he was sure you could take two fingers with little issue, if he so desired.

“Guess we won’t need the lube, huh, princess? Man, if I’d remembered where I put these I’d have used on them on you way sooner,” he said, lips quirking up when you shivered. He knew his hot breath must have felt good and teasing against your sensitive, needy cunt, and let his tongue flick against your clit once to feel it again. You squeaked, hips jerking in response and he snickered. “That feel good? I’m gonna make you feel even better.”

His lips met your clit in earnest, lapping at it while the tips of his fingers teased your sopping hole, gathering up your slick and smearing it to coat the length of them. There was no way he was going to try it without some lubrication, he didn’t want to hurt you. But it didn’t matter as you moaned at the contact, both hands weaving in his hair for something to hold onto as you moaned and whined his name, rocking into his mouth. 

They tightened when one long finger finally, finally filled you, so good and yet not enough. You could feel the stitching of the smooth leather catching on your insides, and when he twisted his finger just so-- oh, oh.

“That feel good, princess?” Kuroo asked, pulling off your clit. He had felt your cunt clench around him when he grazed his finger just so and, though he ached to feel it against his bare skin, even he had to admit you were wetter than ever just because he’d slipped on a pair of goddamn gloves. He was annoyed by the fact, but then you moaned his name, a slurred noise he could barely call speech and remembered why he wasn’t.

“Yes, fuck, yes that feels so good, daddy. Again, do it again please, I want to cum,” you babbled, fingers trailing through his tangled locks to the back of his neck. Your nails dug in, pushing his neck gently and he let you, guiding his lips back to his clit. On the next stroke into you, he shoved a second finger in, and you squeezed down with a mewl. More praising babbles and broken begging left your slack mouth, your legs trembling with the effort to remain standing. 

But he wanted you to come before he laid you out on the floor and fucked you stupid. And the stupid gloves would have to go too, he wanted to run his bare hands all over every inch of you. 

He twisted his fingers inside you again, slurping up your sweet juices as he ravaged your clit, making sure the tips of the gloves and stitching caught that sweet spot just right every time. You were a wreck, unable to string together a coherent thought against the pleasure building up. His fingers crooked, pressing into that spongy spot when he felt you squeeze down, focusing all his attention on it as much as your clit and the building pleasure slammed down, making your stomach clench and your knees almost buckle. Only your hands on his shoulders and his free arm wrapping around your legs kept you steady as he continued to assault your sensitive, well, everything.

“Stop, please,” you cried, pushing at his head to get his attention. He already knew you were through, though, grinning against your clit as he gave it one last smacking lick. If he thought you were wet before, it was nothing compared to the slick covering your inner thighs now, and his grin turned into a proud smirk. While you regained your breath, he tugged his sweats down to his knees, as far as he could get them without standing up and then took your hand in his clean one.

You willingly followed his insistent tugging down to the floor, allowing him to pull you into his lap and settle you right over his throbbing cock. It nestled perfectly between your oversensitive folds, hard and leaking precum against his stomach. It was drenched in your juices in an instant, only encouraging him to rock his hips gently and smirk when you whined.

“What’s wrong, my little glove slut? Thought you could get away from taking daddy’s cock because you’re too sensitive?” Kuroo teased, sliding one long, covered finger between his lips to get a taste of your release. You always tasted too good for him to resist and every time you fucked, which was often, he was going down on you, eating your pussy like a man starved. 

He was a generous lover, sometimes even bringing you to orgasm without asking anything in return. He just liked it, your taste, the way you screamed his name, the feel of you writhing underneath him when you’d had too much but he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet and kept pounding away at your tight little hole until you came for the fourth time. It got him off, knowing you were at his mercy and wanted it, sometimes begging him for more.

Catching the tip of his glove in his teeth, he pulled it off, watching your lips part and your eyes widen. 

That was the sexiest fucking thing you’d ever seen him do, you decided and, when he did it again, you couldn’t resist picking his hand up. 

He almost choked when you took his finger into your mouth, nibbling and sucking the tip and pad while you stared up at him with the most innocent expression you could manage. His cock twitched underneath you as he imagined you down there sucking it instead of his fingers, but it would have to wait until after he’d fucked you into the floor.

With a thump that sounded much worse than it felt, he flipped you onto your back, your legs hitched around his slender hips while he haphazardly kicked his sweats the rest of the way off. The instant they were off, he threw your legs up onto his shoulders and lined himself up with your waiting, needy hole and pushed, bottoming out inside your cunt without waiting. Your wail of pleasure filled the room at his unexpected roughness, silky walls clenching around him while you tried to wrap your mind around the mix of pain and pleasure. He was a large man and taking him wasn’t what you would call easy, but the way you swallowed him with no resistance and clawed at his arms, lips parted in a silent moan as he pulled out and slammed back in made it worth it. To him, at least.

Not that he could hear you complaining over the wet sounds of him stretching you out. His rhythm faltered only long enough for him to push your knees up to your shoulders before he started again, the new angle letting him deeper into your sloppy cunt.

“Fuck, you feel so good, princess. How’s daddy’s cock feel, fucking you open? You gonna cum again, slut?” he snarled, hips slamming so hard into yours he was sure you would have bruises. The idea only spurred him on, staring down at where his cock slid in and out of your tight pussy. He fully intended to make you cum again, preferably around him while he came inside you, but he wasn’t sure he would last that long, not with you so hot and tight around him. He’d really gotten himself worked up eating you out, but what else was new?

“Cock feels so good,” you slurred, back in a permanent curve as you let him fuck you. “Your cock, daddy. Wanna cum on it, want you to cum in me, please*. Don’t stop, daddy, please please please don’t stop.”

You would surely lose your mind if he did, only able to focus on the catch and drag of his flared tip on your walls, the steady pounding of his head against your cervix, imagining him filling you up like he fucking owned you. And he did, heart, body and soul.

He already knew that, of course, but you told him anyway, rambling praises mixed with a near constant stream of I love you’s. You sounded so fucked out, eyes wide and tears leaking down your cheeks, that he groaned and stuffed himself deep, grinding himself against your clit and it hit just right and you tumbled so suddenly off a cliff you didn’t even know you were standing on it.

He felt the stinging pain of your nails in his arm and vaguely wondered if you had drawn blood this time, but it was overshadowed by the tight vice around his cock as he came. Your cries rang in his ears while the clenching of your walls through your orgasm milked him until he was oversensitive. 

Still, he didn’t pull out even after the both of you had relaxed, instead bracing himself on one arm above your head and using his free hand to wipe away the tears still rolling down your cheek. You were breathing heavy, legs trembling where they were hooked over his thighs and he laughed at the doe eyed, sleepy expression you were giving him.

“You’re so amazing, pretty girl,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss. Your response was instant, lips parting to let his tongue dip in and have a taste. Your arms were shaking as you pushed your fingers into his hair, holding him there for a moment longer. But he was stronger, especially now, and broke away, letting his hand trail down your side and eliciting a tired giggle. “What’s say we forget about cleaning and take a fuckin’ nap?”

You were in no position to argue, so you just nodded, eyes already closing. It was never a dull session with Kuroo and this almost always happened. Ever the gentleman, he wandered into the bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth, cleaning you up well enough that you would be able to sleep comfortably without making a mess, before he picked you up in his arms.

Yours curled around his neck, snuggling down into his chest and he found it so cute that instead of just dropping you on the bed-- which was tempting, Kuroo couldn’t deny it-- he laid down with you still in his arms. It took some arranging and a lot of whining on your part before he had you where he wanted you, between his legs and splayed across his chest. Your breathing was even before he got himself comfortable with his arm behind his head.

This was pretty much perfect, he decided as he stared down at you sleeping peacefully. He could still see remnants of tear tracks on your cheeks and smirked, glancing at the gloves still laying on the floor. He would have to wash them, and then they were getting stowed away somewhere safe so they wouldn’t get lost again, because he knew for sure they were getting used in the future.

But you didn’t need to know that. He was sure you’d enjoy the surprise anyway.

⇥  masterlist   

taglist: @umihami​, @kunimwuah​

[wincestisasincest]

She Moves Me (John Lennon x Reader)

So I actually wrote this a while but forgot to post it. Kinda cheesy but oops. 

What-up, y’all. I’m angry. And I just realized that I see a lot of fics where John comforts the reader when they are sad/lonely or stuff like that, but there really aren’t a lot of fics where he comforts the reader when they’re angry. 

I am here to remedy that. 

(Btw if you want to listen to the songs they’re all Muddy Waters, individually called “Just Make Love to Me,” “Mannish Boy,” and “She Moves Me.” 

Description: You are big angry and John, resident constant aggro, actually has a useful solution. 

Words: 1,599

Pairings: John Lennon x reader

Warnings: Umm nothing bad but the lyrics to the songs tend to be a little bit racy. Oh and also swearing

You slammed the door behind you and slumped down against it. You could feel your face beginning to flush and your fists balling. 

Your chest was rising. 

You didn’t want John to see you like this. Sure, you wanted comfort, but you also wanted privacy. And worse, you were a girl. John thought that you were cute when you were angry, with your face contorted into some fiery expression like you were about to give someone hell, despite the fact that you normally couldn’t hurt a fly.

But right now you didn’t wanna be cute. You wanted to be angry.

“Tryna break the door, are ye?” John’s voice called from the kitchen you shared. He was probably pensively reading a book and sipping tea with his thick, blocky glasses on, as he usually was when you came home from work. 

“Doesn’t matter. I’m about to go out.” It took all of your effort not to snap at him. You didn’t have time for banter. You didn’t want to see anyone. 

But it was too late. He could hear it in your voice. 

You unloaded your bag on the counter. Really, you didn’t even know why you had bothered coming home. You wanted to go out. And maybe kick something. 

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” He was lingering in the doorway now, watching you holding yourself back from throwing a tantrum. 

His expression was a characteristic smile. You didn’t need to look, you just knew it was there. You were afraid to look up and ruin it. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“You said that in a snappy voice.”

“It’s not you,” you were still looking at your feet, “It’s just been a fuckin’ long day.” You released a deep breath, which slowly turned into a sigh. 

“Shit. Must’ve been.” The floorboards creaked, and you could tell that he was moving closer to you. 

“I just,” you staggered back a little bit, “it takes absolutely nothing to not be an asshole! Nothing at all! And that’s just so hard to get for some people.” 

“Dare I ask what happened?” 

You finally managed a look up. Your matted hair was falling in your face, and it gave you an almost terrifying appearance. John seemed even a little bit taken aback. You never had a particularly threatening appearance, but damn if you didn’t get very close there. 

He returned to the smile again.

“Don’t say it.” You muttered.

“Say what?” He asked coyly.

“You know damn well.”

“I can’t help it. If you already look cute all the time, it’s only natural that you look cute when you’re angry.” He crossed his arms. 

“Goddamnit, John.” Your face spread into a small smile, but you were still absolutely flushed with red. 

There was a small silence as you brushed your hair back into place. Your fists were still balled. You still wanted to punch something. Maybe John could join you. He was good at getting into fights. 

You gave him a side glance. 

“Wanna go start a fight?” 

“What?!” He chortled. He was grinning, but still caught off guard. 

“I need to punch something.” 

“Temper, temper. What would your mother say?” He tutted and sat on the arm of the couch.

You wanted to say something back, but you were still fuming. You hated it when he condescended to you, though you knew he meant nothing by it. He was trying to cheer you up. 

You breathed in stiffly, still having no reply. You could feel your eyes beginning to water. You felt like a child throwing a temper tantrum. 

“Hold on, lemme get something.” He got up from the couch and began to rattle around in the makeshift box of records that you kept just next to the record player. 

Of course, given John’s hobbies, it was absolutely stacked, but you had added a fair amount of your own to the stack. Though, that’s not what he was reaching for. 

The record he held was dark in color, though you couldn’t quite make out what was on the cover. 

“John, what in the-”

“I used to do this shit all the time whenever I got pissed but me fists were too tired.” 

“So never?”

He put the needle on the record and you immediately recognized the sound. The scratchy blues tones of Muddy Waters, one of his favorite artists, began to fill the small room, launching into the first number. 

I don’t want you to

Be no slave

His voice was something else. 

“Come ‘ed, come ‘ed.” John pulled you forward by your hands, though you refused to break apart your fists.

I don’t want you to

Wake all day

Normally, you would’ve had some witty question, but you just looked at him, your face in the pits of confusion. 

“Well?” Crap. You didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh.

“Hear me out. Try singing to it.”

I don’t want you

To be true

“What? John, I-”

“Come, on, I know you know the words.” He wouldn’t show it, but this sly grin was his way of pleading. 

I just want to make

He seemed convinced. You relented. 

“Love to you.” You sang in unison with the record, very softly.

The guitar kicked in. Your feet began to sway. You looked at John, who’s eyes were closed for the briefest moment as he took in the music. 

“A little louder, yeah?” He cocked his head to you.

“I’d rather not make your ears bleed.” 

“It’s not about sounding good, pet.” He was a little more sage than usual. 

“I don’t want you to wash my clothes.” You were a little louder this time, though you could already feel your throat beginning to burn. 

“I don’t want you to keep our home.” A little louder. 

“I don’t want your money too.” Your voice scratched a little bit in the back. You had a fair amount of rasp as you hit the high note. 

“I just wanna make love to you, baby” You pointed at John cheekily.

Now, the guitar really began to show itself, crackling all over the rhythm. It was energetic, and you could feel your feet moving along with it, but more than that, it was visceral and raw. 

You could feel yourself ready for the next verse. John was tapping his foot and muttering along the lyrics.

“I don’t want you to cook my bread.” You had fully committed to loudly yelling one of your favorite blues songs. 

“I don’t want you to make my bed.” 

“I don’t want you because I’m sad and blue!” You hopped lightly, like you were performing on stage. 

“I just want to make love to you.” You pointed at John like you were aiming a gun. 

The guitar kicked in again, and this time you swung your feet jovially. You were a good dancer, at the very least. You moved your arms in rhythm, and pulled John into the heat with you. 

It wasn’t a great dance, nor a nice dance, but damn if it didn’t get all your energy out. 

The song faded away, but you smiled. You knew what was coming next. 

The guitar wailed. You hummed along with it. It wailed again. You were in the trance. 

Then the rhythm thumped into place. 

“Now when I was a young boy! At the age of five!” This song was great to yell along too. 

The riff thumped again. There was an external harmonica source. John was next to you, his harmonica in hand, playing along, watching you with excitement. You continued to yell the lyrics. 

Slowly, you made your way through the song, loudly declaring to whoever would listen that you were a man. You and John in the center of the room shouting, with him occasionally turning back to his harmonica. What a pair you made. 

You’d forgotten that you were even angry by the end of the song.

You could feel sweat coming down your face. You clung onto John, giving him a half hug and half grasp for stability.

The guitar announced the entrance of the next song. You were about to pull away but John’s arms tugged you a little closer. He placed his loosely around your waist. You caught on and landed yours on his neck, still holding tight on his chest. 

She moves me, man

Honey, and I don’t see how it’s done

You gently whispered the lyrics along, while John remained silent, resting his head on top of yours as you gently danced. This song was a lot slower, but still quite bluesy. 

You gently swayed, both content. 

She moves me, man

Honey and I don’t see how it’s done

She got a pocket full of money

Little doll don’t try to help me, though

“John?” Your face was still planted squarely in his chest. He smelled like sweat, but you could imagine that you did too. 

“Hm?”

“I feel better now.”

“I thought so,” he chuckled, “That used to help me a lot.”

“But you did it by yourself?” You looked up from his chest for a little bit. He was thinking.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Well, you won’t ever again.” You promised, before collapsing back into his chest again and pulling yourself even closer. 

He was silent. You’d caught him off guard. 

“You neither, (y/n).” He said at last, before pulling you closer. And there you stayed for a while, as the song drifted on.

She shook her finger in a blind man’s face 

“Once blind but now I see”

She moves me man

[sunsetinmyvein]

The Radio Station - Chapter One - Think About How to Think

"I’m still not quite used to these proper radio interviews.” He said as he reshuffled the headset over his clean shaven mohawk. “It all… feels so professional.” She laughed in response to that, “Well, it’s nice to know I’m doing my job right, then!”

Eyyyy, I’m back! A sort of different story compared to what I've done in the past. Small snippets in time, across quite a bit of time, focused around radio interviews. Almost all of Matty's interview answers are verbatim transcribed from various interviews, but it's what happens around those answers that's the important stuff.

Taglist: @dot-writes​ @imagine-that-100​ @robinrunsfiction​ @tooshhhy​ and feel free to give me a shout if you wanna be added :D

6th of December, 2012

Adjusting the microphone in front of her, she watched while the last few seconds of the song played out. “You ready?” She asked the man sitting in front of her. He looked up from picking at the sleeve of his jacket, nodding apprehensively as she switched the microphones back on. “That was Sex by The 1975 - and as promised, we have here Matthew Healy of The 1975 with us in the studio this morning.” She spoke, turning on the radio presenter voice.

He leaned towards the mic slightly before speaking, “Hi.”

“How are you doing?”

“Yeah, erm… good?” He said with a small laugh, sounding unsure of himself. “A bit nervous.” He admitted as an afterthought.

“About your show tonight at Barfly?” She asked, remembering her conversation earlier in the day. Her managed warned her not to drag the interview out too much as they had a gig later that evening to prepare for.

“Uh, yeah, that, and I’m still not quite used to these proper radio interviews.” He said as he reshuffled the headset over his clean shaven mohawk. “It all… feels so professional.” He shrugged, looking around the studio for the millionth time. When he’d come in, the process of actually having to check in through a receptionist and wait before he was ushered through was fairly intimidating.

She laughed in response to that, “Well, it’s nice to know I’m doing my job right, then!”

 She figured it would be best to just get the ball rolling to try and give him something better to talk about than his nerves, “So, you guys have two EPs out now. How many more are there on the cards before an album?” She questioned, glancing down at the sheet of question prompts in front of her.

He appeared instantly more comfortable as soon as the topic switched to something that he had better familiarity with, straightening up in his seat and looking more engaged, “There’s probably another couple to come out before we bring out the full album.”

“It seems that the band is getting some good traction with what you already have out.” She pointed out with a nod. Over the last few weeks at the station she’d had a chance to hear the EPs in passing, and she thought that they were pretty decent. But the station itself had been receiving a fair number of requests for them and pretty good feedback whenever they were on the air.

“Yeah! We’re really humbled that we’ve been given the opportunity to live this past year, and we’re only getting closer as a band.”

  “Is there a strategy with how you’re releasing things?” She asked. “Is this all part of some grand plan,” She saw him smile at that, “or a secret to getting your name out there?”

He thought about that for a second, “Kind of a bit of both? When we wrote the first EP, shortly after we’d written the majority of the album, we kind of… I dunno, we just wanted people to…” He paused, taking a short breath as he recomposed his thoughts. “If we were gonna do it, it’s such a personal endeavour, this band. If people are embracing the music, we wanna do it properly. We want people to fall in love with a band the same way you fall in love with a person – the more you know about somebody over a longer period of time, the more you both invest in the relationship.” She was taken aback somewhat by his statement. For a band just starting their career, that was a pretty profound thought process. “That was kind of…” He continued, clearly debating over his words slightly. “We had ideas for a lot of material. We wanted records that went against the grain of most EPs nowadays that are just a single. We wanted to release these little records that kind of almost culminated in a debut record.”

  “That all sounds pretty well figured out.” She noted, still rather surprised at the extent of his answer. It was intriguing watching him stumble over his choice of words to try and get across exactly what he meant. “Does that mean that the tracks from the EPs are going to be on the full album?”

“There’s a lead track off each EP on the album, yeah.” He nodded eagerly as he leaned forward in his seat. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding that our material works chronologically. We wrote the album pretty much before we wrote the EPs. We took singles off the album and wrote EPs around that to take a bit of the story and embellish it a bit. Create a feel for what the album is gonna be like.” He explained, his hand motions getting more enthusiastic the more he spoke.

She made a soft noise of understanding at his answer. Thinking back to the vibe of the two EPs she had listed to, what he was saying made sense. “From what we’ve heard from you so far, it seems The 1975 has a knack for creating upbeat music with fairly deep lyrics in comparison. Is there a reasoning behind that? Is the album going to be similar?” She asked as she flipped her notepad over.

  He let out a sigh as he stared up at the ceiling of the studio, “I dunno… we’re just a band… for ourselves? We just wrote music for ourselves and have since we started when we were kids.” He started, leaning back into his seat. “Because we grew up in punk and pop punk playing around, we were kind of a bands band? Our music just became very, very personal and very, very kind of…” He made a vague gesture with his hands, “I suppose, it’s our only expression? It’s the only thing we’ve ever known how to do. It’s the only form of honest expression we’ve got. A lot of the time it’s quite self-deprecating for me – lyrically. I kind of find solace in it. But I suppose now it’s been romanticised a little bit.”

She wasn’t entirely sure if that answered her question, but pressed on. “Certainly songs like Sex seem to have a lot of girls romanticising you.” She threw in with a laugh. He cracked a grin at her remark.

“I think that is a reflection of our music – coming across as sexy. Not just because of, y’know, all this.” He shot back with a wink as he held a hand proudly on his chest. Any awkwardness he had been carrying at the start of the interview seemed to have dissipated now.

  “All right, we are gonna play another 1975 song and then we’ll be right back. This one came off of the first EP. This is The City.” She announced, happy to segue away from having to discuss whether she thought Matthew Healy was or wasn’t sexy on live radio. As the track started, she lowered her headphones to sit around her neck, the man across the desk from her following her lead. “You’re killing it.” She reassured him.

“Yeah?” He smiled.

“Yeah.” She chuckled, his enthusiasm now that he was on a roll was contagious. “You obviously know what you’re about.”

“Well, I’ve been fuckin’ thinking about it all for long enough.” He laughed loudly. “We spent ages working out what to do before stuff finally started happening for us.” He added for clarification.

“You’ve been the same group since you were kids?” She asked out of genuine curiosity. He looked like he was in his early twenties now, which would mean that they’d already been a band for quite some time. It seemed odd if that was the case, that they’d only had these two releases.

“Yeah, the four of us since we were fourteen or something. Just messin’ about trying to work out what sounds good.” He confirmed.

“Fourteen? That’s pretty young to start a band.” She said in astonishment.

“Yeah, well… I’d just moved to Manchester; I grew up in the very north of the country…” He started, looking like he was about to launch into another story. Part of her wished she had saved this line of questioning for the interview, but another part of her was secretly mildly honoured he was only giving this information to her. “But I went to high school and there was this kind of thing that was going on where the council were letting old people’s kind of bingo halls be used by kids to start bands. And after a couple of weeks it became this scene and everyone started making punk bands.” He explained.

  “So, you got dragged into it by your mates?” She asked.

“Well, in the end our whole social group oriented around that scene.” He shrugged. “We started there at fourteen just because of how fun it was. The fact that we realised we could be genuinely creative but also really indulgent? It was the most fun we could have.” He had a fond smile playing on his lips as he spoke.

“Plenty of time to experiment and work out what you want to be as a band.” She nodded in understanding.

“Exactly.”

“And clearly it’s starting to pay off.”

“You reckon?” He had a genuine look of disbelief.

“I’ve liked what I’ve heard,” She admitted, “and we’ve had nothing but good things coming in about the EPs.”

He scoffed as he ran a hand through his hair, “That’s a lie and you know it. I’m not oblivious to the critics.” He rolled his eyes, but was still smiling. “Thanks, though.”

  They had some more casual chit chat between them until the song came to an end and she switched the audio back over. “And we are back!” She said into the microphone, pulling her headset back on. “Still here in the studio with Matthew Healy, the lead singer of The 1975. Now, I believe that you guys had a few name changes before you finally settled on this one?” She asked as she crossed that prompt off of her list. In an effort to be prepared, she’d tried her best to find out as much about the band online as she could to form some half decent questions. She hated feeling like her interviews were just the same as everything else out there.

“Yeah, we did, but that was when we were just a live band, really. We didn’t really wanna put any music out officially until we were really ready. There were also issues with the old names that we had picked. One of ‘em there was another band called that already, Big Sleep, in America, so we couldn’t call it that. Another we didn’t really like, The Slow Down…” He said with a shrug. “People like to idealise quite a lot of things… in the end, it kind of became our thing? Changing our name. We didn’t really think people cared about our band, anyway.” He laughed softly.

“They certainly do now.” She smiled across at him, earning what appeared to be a delighted look in response. “So, is there any importance to what you finally settled on?”

  “The date doesn’t have any, no.” He said as he shook his head. “It’s this story, that’s been quite over dramatized, to be honest. When I was like… nineteen? I was on holiday with my family. There was an artist who lived in the village who was kind of a local drinker who befriended everybody. I spent a couple of days with him at his house, and he gave me loads of literature to leave with, like Kerouac and beat poetry, you know. Basically one of the books I ended up readin’ six months later, and it had kind of been treated as a diary by the previous owner. And it was dated ‘first of June the 1975’. The use of ‘the’ I felt was quite interesting.” He answered.  “It just stuck with me as a kind of… why? What made them write the 1975? I don’t know, but I think it really works with the fact that we were discovering a lot about ourselves, and we weren’t really sure who we were.” He gazed off into the middle distance for a second, looking like he was zoning out. “George felt it was a bit long at first, because you know, seven syllable band name. But once a band name becomes a band name it’s just there. It’s like that Pavlovian reaction. But I think when we went in for a meeting with our publisher, we’ve always liked to pitch things left of centre, we said ‘we’re gonna call the band The 1975‘ and they said ‘absolutely no way, it’s too long and there’s never been a big band that’s just been numbers.’ And then we looked at each other like ‘that’s the name.’ so I went and got it tattooed on my arm that day.” He laughed loudly. “Sent them a photo of that-” He held out his arm to emphasise the numbers inked there, “-like ‘that’s the name of the band now!’ As soon as they said there’s never been a big band that’s just numbers, we just thought… excellent.”

“The impulsivity worked in your favour, then.” She noted with her eyebrows raised in surprise. To go out and get something like that tattooed as an act of defiance to your creative project was impressive. “Good thing you’ve not had to change it again since.” He just chuckled.

  “It seems to fit in quite well, though, the name. What with the whole black and white aesthetic that you guys have created.” She continued, eager to hear what he had to say on this image that they had surrounded themselves with. Everything she had been able to find out about their ‘look’, how they presented themselves, it all seemed highly thought out and planned. But thinking back to what he had mentioned before, if they’d been a band since they were fourteen, it probably had been.

“If you’re quite altruistic in personality, that’s normally twinned with a certain amount of self-awareness. Because you’re exposed to many situations where you’re putting yourself out there a lot.” He started as he fiddled with the cord of his headset. “I think if you’re an artist and you’re like that, you find solace in maybe… detaching yourself from reality a bit? Because you’re not as exposed as normal. We find a lot of comfort in everything being in black and white, because… Yeah, that’s it, you’re not fully exposed.” He explained as if he was mostly talking to himself, or trying to sort out his answer as he said it. “But it really works for our band because it makes it… a bit out of reach?”

“How do you mean?” She frowned.

He hummed thoughtfully to himself before speaking, “There’s a great quote by Kafka, which is that ‘a camel is a horse designed by a committee’…” He said with a pointed look. “Which is like… one person’s vision is always going to be a lot more concise than something that’s been diluted or compromised by a committee. If you want to project a certain image it needs to be an individual’s own vision in order to be really palatable and really concise and really consumable. So, it’s all about creating something that isn’t that accessible, because we live in an industry where accessibility is paramount.” She was starting to realise that this man truly had very roundabout ways of answering questions. However, it was fascinating listening to his unfiltered thought process as he tried to work out what he wanted to say. She couldn’t say she’d had a lot of interviews with people are interesting as Matthew seemed to be.

  Taking a quick look at the time, she could see that they had to wrap this up shortly. Between the long-winded questions and the songs, her twenty minutes had gone by quite fast. She’d better start winding this down. “What’s next on the agenda for you guys?” She asked, looking back over to him.

“Uh, let me think…” He racked his brain for what their immediate plans were for the near future. “We’re heading out on tour after Christmas, and then pretty much we don’t stop ‘til sometime next year.” He confirmed.

“Sometime?”

“We’re in high demand, what can I say?” He said with a laugh.

“That’s not surprising, I’m sure it’ll only get harder to get a hold of you guys in the future.” She concurred. “Well, it’s been a pleasure chatting with you, Matthew. All the best for the tour and for the next EP.” She nodded. He looked caught off guard for a second. Glancing down at his phone, he was surprised to see how much time had gone by. “Thanks for coming in.”

“No, no. The pleasure’s all mine, truly.” He grinned. “Thank you for having me on.”

“I’m sure we’ll be hearing again from you soon.” She finished up, switching his microphone off as she did her outro spiel. He took his headset off, stretching his arms up above his head before standing up and heading towards the studio doorway. It took her a second of seeing him linger in her peripheral vision to realise that he was waiting to say goodbye. As she started the next track, she slipped her headset off and spun her chair to face him.

“Erm, thanks.” He said as he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’ll see you around?” He asked hesitantly. It was curious to see him go from charismatic interviewee to nervous guy in her studio so fast.  

“As I said, I’m sure we’ll be hearing from you soon. You’ll be back here in no time.” She assured him. He nodded to himself, looking pleased as he headed back outside.

  It was another twenty minutes after Matthew stepped out before her shift ended. Thankfully, she was able to get out of the office pretty quickly. Sometimes she ended up being held back for up to a couple of hours if there were meetings and such that required her attention. And today wasn’t a day that she wanted to deal with any of that. It had been a pretty shitty Thursday to start with. She’d had terrible traffic on the way in, couldn’t find a parking space, had to trudge her way to work in the cold, dropped her coffee when someone ran into her on the way – she just wanted to end a long day. It was approaching evening as she stepped out into the brisk winter air, letting out a sigh as she looked around the street. She started making her way to her car only to catch sight of a familiar mohawked man standing at the side of the station building, smoking with a few other guys. As soon as he spotted her, he shouted her name and waved her over. She debated whether she should go over and talk to a group of more or less strangers or not, but he seemed pretty keen on her joining them. He turned briefly back to the guys he was standing with and as she approached she heard the tail end of him explaining what had happened in the interview.

“This is the band!” He said excitedly.

“Oh!” Instantly, that made a lot more sense than him larking about with a bunch of random people. She took in the other three men he was standing with, noting that they were all quite a bit taller than he was. “You guys could’ve come in to the interview, you know.” She said as she wrapped her arms around herself to try and block out some of the cold threatening to seep in through her jacket.

“Nah, it’s fine.” One of them with somewhat of a beard shrugged.

“We’d rather let him do the talking.” Another quietly agreed.

“He’s loud enough for all of us.” The last one, that also had a kind of mohawk thing going on, spoke up.

“Hey! Fuck off!” Matthew shoved the last one with a loud laugh.

She stood around with them for a bit while they smoked, listening to Matthew talk about the interview and answering the odd question that the band members had for her. This man seemed far more sure of himself than the uncertain one she kept seeing in the interview. He prattled on excitedly about tour and the next EP and just generally seemed more confident. The band only spurred him on as well, encouraging him and getting into in-depth conversations about the tiniest details. She could see where those long-winded answers had come from in their interview. If he held this level of passive confidence and enthusiasm in a casual environment, it was only a matter of time before that started shining through in his career. And it was truly no surprise after speaking with them that this band was getting popular at the rate that they were. They were obviously talented, and had enough drive and direction to push themselves through whatever challenges they faced. She could tell that The 1975 were only just beginning their music industry journey. It was after about fifteen minutes that she figured she had better excuse herself and actually go home – she didn’t really have any reason to hang around here, even if it was nice to chat with such an interesting group of people.

  She waited for a lull in the conversation (which wasn’t very forthcoming) before finally making her move, “I might get going…”

Matthew’s face fell a little before he recomposed himself. “Why don’t you come down to the pub with us for a bite?” He suggested.

“Ah, thanks for the offer but I’ve got places I need to be, and I don’t usually mix business with pleasure as they say.” She chuckled lightly. “Nice to keep things separate.”

“It’s also nice to make exceptions sometimes.” He shot back; a challenging eyebrow raised. “But it’s cool.” He said with a shrug as he dropped his cigarette onto the ground, snuffing it out with his shoe. “For real, though, thank you for all the kind words about the band and the music in the interview. A station with as many listeners as yours… your words mean a lot.” He nodded, looking pensive about whatever was going on in his head.

“It’s really no problem. I meant everything I said.” She smiled back at him. Before she could get on her way, he pulled her into a tight hug. She hadn’t overly expected that from the man she’d known all of about an hour, but she hugged him back regardless, happy for the brief warmth after standing in the icy street. “I’ll, uh,” She cleared her throat, attributing the heat she could feel in her cheeks to being in the cold for so long, “I’ll see you at the next interview.” She said as she finally headed towards her car, leaving Matthew staring after her before heading back to his band mates.

Next Chapter

[hornsbeforehalos]

Forever, Sweetheart: Part 2

Pairing: Rob Benedict x OFC, past Norman Reedus x OFC

Warning: Smut, Language, RPF, mentions of violence and sexual assault, mentions of miscarriage, recreational drug use (weed), drinking, Rated E for EXPLICT A/N: TRIGGER WARNING: Mingus and Ky talk about the baby in this chapter. If you have triggers regarding subjects such as infant loss, please be cautious. 

As per usual I mean no harm or offense to anyone referenced or mentioned. this is a work of FICTION and no all your favorite people will be your favorite people in this. They’re characters.

Please do not read this if you are under the age of 18. Please do not copy or steal this and put it somewhere else. I will find you.

I do not own anything related to Supernatural or The Walking Dead or any other shows mentioned in this work of fiction. I am not affiliated with AMC or CW in any way.

MASTERLIST

Tags: @coffee-obsessed-writer @sandlee44 @wildefiction @sorenmarie87 @through-thesilver-lining @runekisses @pink1031 @zelda2248 @kazzieglove @journeyrose @his-paradox @docharleythegeekqueen @beffyblueeyes  Please let me know if you want to be added to the list!

My eyes drifted open the next morning as my senses kicked in, the strong scent of coffee wafting through the small hotel room. I could hear Rob in the shower, the sound of him singing while washing himself coming from the bathroom and making me smile.

I let out a groan as my body stretched itself out, the stiffness in my shoulders making me roll my neck back and forth for a moment before I climbed out of bed. Walking past the mirror on the wall, I let out another groan, this time as I observed the giant rat’s nest that resided itself on my head from falling asleep with it wet.

Lovely way to start out the morning.

I heard the shower shut off and the curtain be pulled back as I sifted through my clothes for the weekend while sipping on the cup of coffee Robbie had set out for me, selecting a Gishwhes t-shirt from the pile as well as a pair of shorts. I was pulling my pajamas off as I heard Rob open the bathroom door, my butt bent over in his direction as I stepped into my denim shorts.  

A low whistle sounded as he pressed his denim-covered groin against my ass as I straightened myself, earning him a giggle from me as his fingers dug themselves into my waist when I turned around in his arms.

“Don’t even say a thing,” I grunted as I watched his eyes widen as he took in the state of my hair, “Not a God damned thing, Benedict.”

Rob chuckled but made the gesture of zipping his mouth, patting my butt before shaking his head as he released me to select a shirt for himself. I made my way into the bathroom after getting the rest of my clothes on, sighing deeply as I stared at the heap on my head.

It took twenty minutes and Rob’s help to get the shit to cooperate, and I was grateful when I was finally able to get it tied into braided pig-tails. I was just done pressing the false last eyelash to my lid when the Richard’s unmistakable rap sounded at the door.

I exited the bathroom as Rob pulled the door ajar to let Rich inside, the poor man already looking flustered.

“Kay, Mish is looking for you. He’s on the war path already.” Rich warned, raking his hand through his hair as he turned to Rob, “Me and you gotta skedaddle, buddy, Daniella is having issues with the sound check guy.”

“Jesus, okay,” Rob sighed, shaking his head again as he pulled a flannel over shirt on. He walked over to me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me into a hug before kissing me, “I guess duty calls, my love. I’ll come find you later?”

I nodded before giving him another kiss, waving to Rich as I watched them leave.

It took about thirty seconds before my phone’s ringtone blared. I slide the answer button across Misha’s face, putting it on speaker as I pulled on my converse.

“Whaaaat? I’m on my way, damn. Let me get my fuckin’ shoes on.”

“Hurry your ass, woman! Did you know Marvel people are here too?” Misha asked excitedly. I could tell he had already made his way downstairs to the green room from the noises in the background, Bri’s unmistakable laughter sounding through the phone, “Sebastian fucking Stan even!”

Giggling, I strapped my laptop bag around my shoulder and grabbed my phone, taking it off speaker and pressing it to my ear as I made sure I had everything, “You’re such a nerd. I’m on my way.”

Misha hung up the phone without a good bye, and I placed it in my back pocket as I headed down to the convention.

The majority of the day had been hectic yet uneventful, and it was easy to slip back into the routine of convention life. As I had expected, I didn’t get to see Rob for most of the day, save for a couple of seconds here and there in between dragging Misha from one area of the hotel to another. I had hoped to at least be able to have a moment to go to his panel with Rich and Matt, but Misha wanted me to make sure the Random Acts information desk had everything they needed. I was talking to one of the past Gish contestants when Mingus approached with a couple of his friends.

“Hey Ming!” I beamed at him after the girl left, rounding the corner of the table I was behind to wrap my arms around him, “Glad you could come.”

“This shit is so cool, Ky,” He smiled, folding his lanky limbs across my shoulders as I pulled away to look up at him, “I’ve never been able to actually walk around one of these types of conventions before.”

“It has his moments of being cool,” I chuckled, turning to see two the two guys that came with him staring at me. They both looked familiar, and I remembered seeing them from the time when Ming had stayed with me.

“You guys remember my step mom, Ky, right?” Ming introduced with a wide grin.

Rolling my eyes, I smacked him in the chest with the back of my hand, “I’m like 7 years older than you, dude, don’t call me that.”

“Whatever,” He chuckled, “This is Matt and Kyle. You got time to go with us to get some food?”

I pulled my phone out and checked the time, noting that Rob’s panel was going to be ending soon and he’d texted that he wanted to meet in the green room afterwards.

“I can’t really leave, but ya’ll can come to the back with me if you want, they’ve got hella food piled up back there for everyone.” I replied, placing my phone back in my pocket, “Jensen and Jared should be headed there soon, too.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Mingus nodded, watching as I gathered all my things before following me.

I pushed the door to the green room open so the four of us could enter, my eyes instantly finding Robbie perched on the side of the couch with my brother’s guitar, strumming the chords as Jensen hummed. He looked up to me as he felt my approach, his grin faltering slightly as he saw Mingus behind me.

“Mingus! Dude! What’s up?” Jensen said joyfully as he stood up to hug the kid, Jared following suit before moving so everyone could sit down.

I turned to face Rob as Mingus spoke with the others, not missing the glint in his eye as I slotted myself between his legs in front of the guitar. His eyes moved back to the instrument, and he thumbed a few chords before returning his attention to me.

“How was the panel?” I asked sweetly, running my fingers through the thick curls on top of his head. Rob stopped playing and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the scratch of my fingertips against his scalp.

“Mmmm, it was okay. Couple people asked about you.” He answered, his eyes opening and shifting up to look at me as I stopped my ministrations.

“Anything interesting?” I wondered out loud, watching as Jared and Jensen lead Ming and his friends over to the food table. I pulled the guitar from Rob’s grasp as I sat on the couch beside him, my fingers finding the frets effortlessly.

“Nah, just asking if you were going to start doing conventions again, how you were doing, stuff like that.” Rob replied, a smile on his face as he looked down at me playing, “If you were gonna sing with me tomorrow.”

I looked up at him knowingly, my lips pursed together in a straight line as I rolled my eyes at him and sighed through my nose, “Maybeeee.”

“Maybe means yes.” Rob snorted, his grin splitting his face into a  full blown smile, “What song are we gonna do?”

Shrugging, I looked down at the strings of the guitar, “I don’t know, probably just one ya’ll always do or something.”

“I’ll figure out the details and let you know, ‘kay?” He promised, his hand curling around my shoulders as he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. Glancing at his watch, he stood up, “I gotta get back out there, but I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Kay,” I replied, looking up at him as he leaned down again to kiss my lips, his hand cradling my head and stroking my cheek, “Love you, Rob.”

“Love you too, babe.” he replied before waving to the others, Jared and Mingus rejoining me with his friends as Rob and Rich left the room.

“Mingus said he could join us for dinner after karaoke,” Jared announced as him and Jensen squished themselves onto the couch next to me, tossing a wrapped sandwich my way, “We’re going to that one place we went last year.”

“Cool,” I smiled, letting Jensen take the guitar from me as I unwrapped the sandwich, my stomach growling loudly, “I’m glad you get to hang out, dude.”

“I’ve got the photo shoot tomorrow and I’ll be busy for the rest of the weekend, so I wanna see you as much as I can. We never get to hang out anymore.” Mingus stated, a sad tone to his voice as he took a sip of his drink, “I miss my super awesome cool step mom.”

“Stop calling me that!” I groaned, rolling my head back and huffing as everyone chuckled, “I’m not your step mom!”

“Anymore!” Ming contested before taking a bite of food, playful grin on his face.

“Not never!” I huffed, tossing a piece of lettuce at him, “So weird, dude.”

“I wish my step mom was as cool as you,” Kyle snorted from beside his friend, “Mine’s a cunt.”

“She’s not as cool as you think, kid,” Jensen chimed in, his hands instantly rising up to defend him against a flying piece of food.

Everyone laughed, and I shook my head at Mingus, “Doesn’t he have a new girlfriend or something anyway?”

“Eh. I mean not really I guess. I’ve seen him hang out with that chick Keagan a few times, and he was dating this one chick for a while, but I don’t know what happened to her.”

Nodding my head, the mention of Keagan’s name brought a flood of memories to the forefront of my mind. She’d been my friend, but had let Jeffrey manipulate her into being the reason for Norman and I’s separation. I had no ill will towards her, though, I was extremely over Norman and extremely happy with Rob, but I still wondered from time to time if things would have been different with the baby if she hadn’t done what she did.

Sensing the change in mood, Mingus pulled the subject away from his father, “We need to hang out when we get back to the states. I’m going to be spending the summer in LA with Matt.”

“I’m down dude, I just work all the time so you gotta let me know.”

“I’m sure we will get it all figured out,” Mingus grinned as the door to the room opened, Misha entering, looking rather stressed.

“Kylin! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” He urged, throwing his hands up into the air, “You gotta come to autos with me.”

“Uhhh, why?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him and tilting my head curiously, “There’s no reason for me to be there.”

“Because I said so,” Misha stated, his own eyebrow lifting itself, “Now come on.”

Sighing as I wrapped the uneaten portion of my sandwich back up, I turned to Mingus and the guys, “Sorry, my boss is a dick.”

Chuckling, Ming responded,” It’s fine, we gotta go meet my dad anyway for something with Ride, I’ll text you later for the dinner details.”

After telling them bye and showing them the quickest way to get to the exit, I followed Misha down a different hallway towards the autograph room.

“You know I wanted you to come with me so I could spend some time with you, right? You’ve been so busy, I’ve barely seen you.” Misha complained as he threw his arm around my shoulders.

“You’re the one that asked me for the help, dude,” I rasped as I wrapped my arm around his waist, “Runnin’ me ragged.”

“I know, I’m despicable” Misha chuckled, squeezing me close for a moment before releasing me as we neared the area, “I’ll give you a raise.”

“Ha. I doubt it.” I snorted, rolling my eyes and jabbing him in the gut with my finer as he held the door open for me.

I took my seat behind him as he got situated, pulling out my phone to scroll through social media while we waited for the fans to be allowed through. I had been tagged in numerous things on twitter and Instagram, and I ignored most of them as I usually did until one from Mingus caught my eye. He’d taken a selfie with him and his friends and Jared, with the caption ‘Supernatural in Rome, thanks step-mom!’ Followed by a winking emoji.

Stop fucking calling me that! I typed back in a comment quickly, adding a few laughing emojis myself as the room started to fill up. I pocketed my phone again and stood up, moving beside Misha to help the handlers take the tickets.

“Um, Kylin? Would you mind signing this too?” A woman asked shyly, about fifteen minutes into the session.

“Um, sure, I guess. What’s your name?” I replied, startled.

“Megan.”

I gave her a smile and signed the board she’d placed in front of us before handing the metallic marker back to her, “Here you go, Megan.”

“Thank you so much. It really means a lot. I’m sorry about what happened to you.” Megan smiled sadly at me, her eyes kind and gentle, “I lost a pregnancy myself not too long ago. I don’t know your whole story, but it was devastating for me.”

I could feel the crack in my chest try to reopen again as I gave her a small smile back, looking down at my hands before over at Misha, who wrapped his arm around me and kissed the crown of my head.

“Thank you, and I’m sorry for your loss as well. I don’t know where I’d be without my family.” I replied, my voice low in attempt to conceal the emotions threatening to bubble over. The girl got her hug from Misha and moved on, not realizing she’d broached a tender subject.

“You okay?” Misha asked as he watched me sit back down in the chair behind him, my arms crossing over my chest protectively.

“Yeah, I should’ve been expecting someone to talk about it.” I exhaled deeply, “I think I’m gonna go get a cigarette, okay?”

“Sounds good, after I’m done here I’ll meet you upstairs to figure out dinner plans before you leave for karaoke, yeah? I might just go with Ruth and Briana, Jensen and I are arguing today.”

“Just let me know, I’ll kick him in the nuts for you” I snorted, grabbing my purse and double checking I had everything I needed, “Grab my bag when you leave, please.”

“Got ya.” Misha replied with a wink, throwing a thumbs up in my direction as another fan approached and demanded his attention.

I found the side exit quickly, happy to be able to finally get some nicotine into my system. I exhaled the strong smoke as I scrolled through my phone again, trying to forget about the woman’s words. I jumped as the door I’d just came out of opened, but smiled upon seeing Rob crook his head around it, like he’d been looking for me.

“There you are,” He smirked, verifying my suspicions as he let the door close behind him. “You okay? Misha texted me that a fan had upset you.”

Letting one side of my mouth fall, I shrugged, “Not really, just threw me off guard I guess. I should have been expecting it though. It’s why I haven’t been coming to conventions.”

“I’m sure seeing Mingus doesn’t help either, huh?” Rob asked, leaning up against the wall next to me as I took another drag.

Shrugging again, I exhaled, “I mean he doesn’t really bother me, besides with the stupid step mom shit, but I don’t know. This woman decided it would be a good time to share her story with me, and... like I said, I don’t know.”

"I get it,” Rob nodded, reaching over to grasp my free hand, “I’ve had fans do that stupid shit too.”

He leaned his head over and onto my shoulder, chuckling as he said, “That step-mom stuff is definitely pretty weird.”

“Right?” I snorted, a smile breaking across my face that turned into a full blown laugh, “Kid is out of there, man. I’m so glad Calvin and Audrey aren’t like that.”

“That’s because they hate me.” Rob replied, the tone in his voice instantly shifting as he pushed himself off the wall to stand directly in front of me, our hands still entwined.

“They don’t hate you, Rob,” I argued, looking at him before taking another hit from the cigarette, exhaling quickly, “They’re going through a lot right now.”

“Feels like they hate me,” He mumbled, looking down at his feet and kicking at an imaginary rock, “They barely ever call me anymore.”

The kids had taken the divorce a lot worse than Rob had expected them to. Worse then I think they even expected to. They always knew the divorce was eminent, but their mom had them moved all the way to San Diego before the papers were even filed, making them leave behind everything they’d ever known. In their anger they blamed Rob, his inability to work things out with Mollie uprooting and destroying their whole lives.

“Hey,” I said, tugging on his arm to get his attention and make him look at me,  “They’ll come around, alright? Give it some time.”

He smiled weakly, pulling me to him to kiss my lips. I pulled away for a second to flick the butt of the cigarette into the parking lot before turning back to him and pressing my mouth against his.

Curling both my hands around Rob’s neck, I parted my lips to taste his tongue with mine, a soft encouraging noise coming from his throat as he tightened his grip on me. We kissed for a few moments, my skin growing heated under his touch as I moaned into his mouth before he pushed me back into the wall, the brick biting into the back of my thighs as he ground himself into me.

Panting when he finally pulled away, he rasped, “I love you, Sweetheart.”

“I love you too, babe.” I replied, small smile playing on my lips as I gazed up at him lovingly. “Forever.”

“Forever, Sweetheart.” He grinned before kissing me again.

After karaoke, Rob and I met up with the boys and Mingus, his friends having something else planned for that evening. Jensen and Misha were still arguing apparently, something Jensen ‘didn’t wanna talk about’, so he’d gone with Ruth and Bri and the rest of the band. 

We got a ride to the quiet restaurant the boys had been to the year before, the lighting low and music soft as we sat in the back corner and conversed between ourselves. Mingus was taking full advantage of the nonexistent drinking age, knocking back shots in between beers at a pace that would rival even his father’s.

“Mingus, you need some water or something?” Jared asked, concern lacing his voice as the boy finally started to sway back and forth.

“I’mmm...okay.” Mingus sighed, leaning his temple against my shoulder as he sat next to me.

“You sure?” I whispered, tilting my head to peer down at him. There was a sad look on his face, and I brushed a piece of his hair off of his forehead as his eyes met mine for a moment. There was definitely an emptiness there, and my heart broke for him. Poor kid was probably still in the grieving process himself.

“Mind if I bum a cigarette from you?” He asked lowly, up-righting himself on the seat, “I think I need some air.”

“Yeah, I’ll come with you.” I replied gently, giving him a small smile as I watched him stand up. He steadied himself by gripping the table, a goofy grin on his face suddenly as the alcohol started moving through his body again.

Shaking my head with a small chuckle, I turned to Robbie on the other side of me and excused myself, kissing him on the cheek and reassuring him I’d be okay. I looped my arm into Mingus’ elbow, my own slight intoxication making me lightheaded. We exited the building and turned down the narrow alleyway beside it, finding the small private smoking area dimmly lit by a street lamp down the way. Leaning against the cool brick, I passed Mingus a cigarette from my pack before placing my own between my lips and lighting it.

“You alright?” I drawled cautiously, my eyes scanning him as he looked down at his feet.

He stayed silent for a few moments, his eyes never leaving the ground before a silent tear rolled down his cheek, barely visible in the lighting.

“Hey, sweetie, you’re okay,” I instantly soothed, reaching my hand out for his and pulling him to me. His long limbs encased my shoulders, a muffled sob retching through him as he pushed his face into my hair.

“Shhhh, Ming, it’s alright,” I cooed, rubbing his back with my free hand as I flicked the accumulated ashes with the other, “Come on, let’s sit.”

I pulled away from him and tugged him towards a nearby bench, making him sit beside me as I helped him wipe his tears away while his breathing slowed.

“Sorry, Ky,” Mingus rasped, his voice still cracking with emotion, “It’s just…this year has sucked so fuckin’ much for me.”

Nodding my head as I exhaled smoke from the drag I’d finally taken, I placed my hand in his, “I know, babe. It’s been hard for everyone.”

“I have dreams about him, you know? Nax. I see him.” He mumbled, his words slightly slurred.

“I do too. Except I won’t ever know for sure if it’s really him I see.” I replied, my own voice shaking as I fought back the tears that were threatening to spring forth.

“What do you mean?” Ming asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Dad didn’t show you a picture?”

Shaking my head, I brought the cigarette to my lips for the last time before tossing it, “He never talked to me after the day I woke up. There were no pictures taken of him that I know of.”

“What a dick, are you fuckin’ serious?” Mingus cursed, swaying to the side slightly as he shifted to pull his phone out. Before unlocking the screen, he looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine, “Do you want to see?”

Nervousness pin pricked throughout my bloodstream, stinging my skin as my stomach dropped. I couldn’t stop the moisture from rolling down my cheeks, a sob gasping from me as I nodded my head.

It had been over a year, and I never once had seen a picture of my son.

Exhaling sharply, Ming sniffled before wiping his nose. He unlocked the phone and scrolled for a second. Finding what he was looking for brought a small smile to his face, his watery eyes looking up at me before asking, “You sure?”

Nodding again, I held my breathe, closing my eyes for a second while he turned the phone around. When I opened them again, I was peering into the most beautiful blue eyes of the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen.

My chest cracked open as a sob wracked through me again, but it was accompanied by a smile spreading across my lips as I took the phone from him. Lucian’s perfect face was was right there, looking up at me. I noted the nasal tube that curled around his cheek, the only thing besides his obvious size that made him appear any form of weak. My shaking fingertips drifted over the screen, tracing the lines of his little nose and lips. I felt strong arms wrap themselves around me from behind, the scent of my brother encasing me instantly. I’d been too absorbed in staring at my son that I hadn’t even heard him and the others approach.

“He was beautiful, sissy,” Jensen croaked, eyelids blinking back tears as I turned around to look up at him, “Just like you.”

Sniffling as I attempted to compose myself, I handed the phone back to Mingus, prying my eyes away from the little thing on the screen.

“Thank you, Ming. Can you please send it to me?” I sniffled, exhaling the tension from me as foot steps could be heard approaching.

I turned my head to see Norman’s silhouette, the looming figure unmistakable.

“You alright, kiddo?” He rasped, his voice husky as he took in the sullen expressions on our faces.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Mingus snapped, pulling hisself unsteadily to his feet.

“I sent him a text when ya’ll hadn’t come inside for a bit. Figured you needed a ride,” Jared spoke, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“I’m fine.” Mingus spat, glaring at his father, “I’m so fucking pissed at you, dude.”

“What the hell did I do?” Norman questioned, confusion twisting his face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Dad, huh? You were so wrapped up in your own asshole that you couldn’t even let her have a fuckin’ picture of her child!?” The boy’s towering figure stepped into Normans personal space, his chest puffed out in fury, “Not only did you fucking blame her, you couldn’t even give her closure for that? And you never fucking told me?”

Mingus shoved his father back, Norman stumbling before catching himself before he could fall. Jared instantly shot his hand out to Mingus’ chest as the boy attempted to advance again, rage flicking in Mingus’ pupils and encasing his irises.

“Enough, Ming,” I begged, my hand wrapping around his wrist and pulling as Jared and Jensen placed a barrier between the son and the father. I could see Rob helping Norman to his feet over their shoulders, hushed words with a sharp tone being spoken between the two.

“Fuck you, Dad, seriously. I hate you!” Mingus continued, fighting against the bodies surrounding him, “I fucking hate you.”

“Ming, you don’t mean that.” I argued, continuing to tug on his arm until he looked at me, “Come on, I’ll get you back to your mom’s hotel.”

I turned to lead him towards the parking lot, when I heard Norman’s voice call out to me.

“Just know I’m sorry, Whiskey.”

[callmeblake]

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21st 2017

Despite the stereotypical Scottish weather, fans of all ages settled in outside Edinburgh’s La Belle Angele last week in anticipation for the nights lineup. Frank Iero and the Patience return to the UK alongside Homeless Gospel Choir, Paceshifters and Dave Haus And The Mermaid in support of September’s Keep The Coffins Coming EP. I sat down with Frank before he took the stage on Wednesday to talk about the release, family life, and answer some of your questions.

M.E: You are right in the centre of your UK tour alongside The Homeless Gospel Choir and Paceshifters. How does it feel? Frank: It’s great, yeah. I mean, I feel like when you come out from the states on tour, there’s usually a threshold, right? I think that three and a half, four weeks is where you’re feeling strong, but when you hit the fifth week that’s when things start to, like, “Oh my God”.

M.E: You start to miss home and go a little crazy? 

Frank: Yeah, but I think the way to combat that is to surround yourself with people and bands that you like.

M.E: I noticed that with Homeless Gospel Choir, you guys are with them constantly! Frank: That’s the thing, you know? Having Derek around and having Dave and the mermaid around; I mean, we just met Paceshifters but they’re amazing, really really nice guys, so, I have to tell you that, that helps. When you have someone that’s just a jerk, it really brings the rest of the tour down, you know? So we’ve been really lucky, so knock on wood.

M.E: You released the new EP, Keep The Coffins Coming almost a month ago now; how are you feeling about the response from fans?

Frank: It’s been amazing. I mean, I didn’t expect that much attention around it because when we did the recording, I just did it for me, you know? And I didn’t know if it would ever see the light of day. I heard it was going to come out and it was like “Whoa, that’s amazing; people that really care are going to see the bridge between the two records,” and that’s awesome. It’s a session that I am in love with and I had a lot of fun doing, and looked forward to dong since I was, like, fuckin’ eleven, and then all of a sudden it came out and people were really enjoying it, and that makes you feel even better about it. M.E: So, fans are going crazy for the new stuff? Yeah! It’s fun, there were songs like “Best Friends Forever”. M.E: Ah, I remember when that music video came out, it’s real sweet. That’s the thing, right? We did that and people knew it, but the way we do it live is a little bit different and I think that it threw people through a loop a little bit to hear the live version because they were so familiar with the original. So, now to have the live version recorded and out there, too, kids really knew where certain segments happen and they’re bouncing off of that version of the song, so that’s awesome.

M.E: Do you have a favourite track from the EP? Frank: I guess best friends, I mean, that song holds a special place in my heart and the fact that my kids kind of approved it, too, they were like “Yeah, that’s pretty good”. M.E: What age are they now?! Well, the girls are seven, and Miles is five.

M.E: What were you listening to right now, and what were you listening to writing the record? Frank: Oh man, just right now, I was listening to new Weezer songs, which are phenomenal. The Paceshifters record just came out, I think that’s a fantastic record. The new Homeless Gospel Choir record is amazing. The new Culture Abuse single, I guess it’s old now, but I love that. The new Liam Gallagher, we like!

M.E: I feel like, despite being a frontman where a lot of people focus on your vocals, you manage to make every project you’ve been involved with so far (MCR, Death Spells, LeATHERMOUTH) sound so different. How does it feel to play with so many different genres in that way? Frank: Yeah, I think it’s because I just love making music so much and I enjoy so many different types of music that it kind of just makes sense to branch out and make things with different people and try different, new things. It keeps me interested and keeps me inspired, I like to have so many different projects because I feel like if I hit a wall with something else, like, a creative wall, I can go to something else that opens up my head and opens doors, you know?

M.E: How does having a family back home change the approach to touring and live performance, and all of those things? Frank: It’s harder, you definitely get more homesick, and you try to tour smarter as opposed to harder, but it’s one of those things where I think you have to have really understanding loved ones, that, you know? M.E:That appreciate what you’re doing? Yeah, and that get that you’re doing it for the best for everybody.

M.E What is the first thing you’re going to do when you get home? Frank: Spend time with my kids, the girls are in soccer right now so I want to try to get to a soccer game.

@kayleighewing_ asked: What made you decide to do full Scotland dates, like Aberdeen and Edinburgh, whereas most people will focus solely on Glasgow? It’s very much appreciated. Frank: I think because, after this UK run, we have a couple more shows for the rest of this year and then I’m going to take some time off. I think it was important for me to try to hit as many places as humanly possible, we’ve always had really great Scotland shows and it’s fun to go to new cities and play new venues that we’ve never played before.

How do you keep yourself busy/stop yourself from getting bored on tour? Well, usually you have a lot of things during the day, but also, there is a lot of “hurry up and wait” kind of stuff. We take a lot of walks and see as much of the city as we possibly can. You’re good here, then! There’s a lot of history in Edinburgh. Yeah, I think it’s really inspiring to get to walk around and look at things. I mean, where I come from everything is very new, so you feel the history in a city like this, and I think that kinds helps remind you, in my job, how much bigger the world is than just your view.

Gaby and @aya_lmao asked: How do you feel about so many people being dedicated enough to follow a tour and travel as far as they do to see you play? The queue outside is crazy tonight. Yeah? Man, it’s amazing. I feel very lucky to have that type of fan base and those type of people that care that much to want to come to multiple shows, and stay and come early and wait, and see all of the bands on the tour. That means a lot. You feel that support, you feel that love, and that makes you want to put on a good show every night for them. I know a lot of people have fanbases that aren’t that dedicated and I feel very blessed to have that, it’s amazing.

@penceyprick asked: What were your favourite pedals and amps to use on “Parachutes”? On “Parachutes”, I used a Fender Tone Master, head, mostly. I think some of the clean tones are through a VOX AC30, and the main distorted tone is a Keeley modded Blues Driver, and sometimes I’ll have a chorus and a reverb kind of going through that as well, so, you always have that little open weave. There’s a little bit of tremolo on there, I use the boss tremolo, the green one, and… I’m trying to think! There’s a little bit of memory man in there in some parts, but the main tone is the Fender Tone Master with the Keeley modded boss Blue Driver.

How do you manage to get through days when you experience creative blocks? Do you have any methods to overcome those moments? Honestly, I like to keep multiple projects going where I can jump back and forth and really explore other options and different musical stylings, that really helps. Sometimes you just have to know when to bust through the block and when kind of just leave it alone. Sometimes just living your life is a good way to get around that block.

@pussyliquorband asked: Any advice for new bands starting out? Just don’t be full of shit. Basically, do it because you have to do it, don’t do it because you expect anything in return.

@fordangeroushumans on Instagram asked: Have you ever considered recording a full album on analog tape? Do you feel as though there’s a difference between that and digital? I have found that a lot of musicians say that it makes music feel more human/real. Well, yeah! Keep The Coffins Coming was on tape. The drums on Parachutes is all tape and then, that was bounced down and recorded digitally over the top of that, so the guitars- Actually, a lot of that, I think, was recorded on tape and bounced down, so yeah, both of those records are to tape, but Steve’s studio is a full studio, so.

@coffeeandavocados on Instagram asked: If you were in a post-apocalyptic comic book world, what kind of character would you be? Survival/fighter/leader etc? … Dead, I’d be a dead character.

[alfstop50]

Game #5: Sonic Adventure 2

”Maria... this is what you wanted, right? This is my promise I made to you.”

Released: June 23rd, 2001 Synopsis: Trouble brews in the air when Dr. Eggman reawakens Shadow the Hedgehog, a genetic life-form created by his grandfather years ago. While Shadow works with Eggman and treasure hunter Rouge to bring the world to ruin, Sonic, who has been mistaken for the villainous hedgehog, must band together with Tails and Knuckles to foil their plans. Chosen Music: Live & Learn --- Okay so to really understand why I have such a huge appreciation for Sonic Adventure 2, I need to take you back to when I first saw the game. Back to a time when I didn’t even know that such a wild and cool game could end up shaping me for years to come. Before that point, I never had a whole lot Sonic in my life growing up. The most experience I had was occasionally playing Sonic 2 at a friend’s house, avoiding Sonic CD like the plague because the American game over music is the stuff of nightmares, and seeing only a couple of episodes of the Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog on TV. I didn’t even realize there was a gigantic console war going on between Nintendo and Sega in the 90’s, especially when the PlayStation had come out and I started seeing people owning a PlayStation more often than not. But it wasn’t until I was over at a friend’s house and they were showing off their fancy new Gamecube to me and my family, and they popped in a copy of Sonic Adventure 2 Battle for our viewing eyeballs. That was the first time I had ever seen the game, and it looked nothing short of amazing. It wasn’t long until I got my own Gamecube and my own copy of Sonic Adventure 2 Battle, and like, every single time I played it, either to go through the different campaigns (which I loved and helped to establish my love of different perspective campaigns) or to pick out my favorite levels over and over, I just had a blast. Any time I played a Sonic/Shadow level, I was encouraged to go for style at every turn and got rewarded for pulling off the sickest tricks and moves that I could, all while going as fast as possible to blow through each level. The Tails/Eggman levels were also tons of fun and there was a novelty to locking onto everything to get the biggest combo possible, or just tossing you into a level and saying HERE GO BLOW SHIT UP AND HAVE FUN. The Knuckles/Rouge levels tended to be more hit and miss (fuck Mad Space forever), but just about every single one of those had really awesome music in a game already full of awesome music. No matter what the level or which parts tended to drag a little bit, the game always understood how to just deliver fun from every possible angle. And... yeah, I suppose I should talk about the Chao Garden as well. Honestly it’s amazing how much care and effort went into this silly little diversion, but I couldn’t imagine Sonic Adventure 2 being the same without it. Raising Chaos gave going through the levels a whole new purpose, because now you were searching for specific animals or Chaos Drives to increase their stats, evolve them, and make them the best at racing or karate. I also really, really appreciated how a Chao reacted to either how much you love and care for them or how much you just fuckin’ throw them everywhere; it made me really understand what goes into raising pets and how much work it takes to keep them happy and healthy. I don’t know if we’ll ever see something like that again, but they damn well better bring it back some time within the next century. But what is it about Sonic Adventure 2 that’s gotten it this high up on my list? The answer to that is pretty simple, actually; this game was something that managed to expand my horizons beyond what I thought I knew. This was a game that got me to really embrace Sonic, how cool he and his friends were, and how much fun it was to blaze through the games as each of these characters. This, of course, led to a long and turbulent series of mishaps with the franchise, but I always found myself coming back to Sonic because I was a dumb kid who liked Sonic too much for his own good (I actually owned and beat Sonic 2006, for reference). It also helped that every time they came out with a new song to accompany a new game, I would just listen to that shit over and over again. Like, they’re not all winners like Live & Learn, but... I love the vocal tracks, and how they managed to keep my spirits bright even through those lonely days in high school, and how they just continually reminded me of how much I fucking love Sonic as a whole. And honestly, I’m okay with me liking Sonic Adventure 2 more than I should because this game has not aged well for most people. The story is hokey, physics are all over the place (though they usually feel fine to me), the two-player battle mode is just kinda there (even though I loved to just cheese the shit out of the all-rails level as Metal Sonic), and there’s not much to get out of it if you’re playing it for the first time as an adult. But I’ll always remember the music, the fun times, and the sheer joy of playing it, and how it’s stuck with me all this time, even today. It helped me develop a new understanding of the kind of stuff that I love, and I'd say it's responsible for how I'm still able to keep some optimism in my heart. I don’t even really need a Sonic Adventure 3 like most people are clamoring for, because I just know that nothing an Adventure 3 would do could ever top my love and respect for Sonic Adventure 2. Teaser for Game #4: An existentialist game

[theseventhhex]

Superfood Interview

Dom Ganderton & Ryan Malcolm

Having pressed reset on the band, Superfood will start their new incarnation with Dirty Hit Records. Their as yet untitled second album will be released later this year and is born out of a new found freedom, enabling them to take their music to completely new and exciting places. After spending the last couple of years in their studio exploring sounds and working on new music, Superfood returns with the infectious ‘Double Dutch’. Free from outside influences, the self-produced record bursts with light as London via Birmingham two-piece Dom Ganderton and Ryan Malcolm’s sample led track fizzes throughout with a Technicolor effervescence, pointing to an exciting future for the band… We talk to Dom Ganderton about overcoming adversity, Damon Albarn and The Goonies…

TSH: Since the inception of Superfood, how do you feel the band’s creative partnership has evolved?

Dom: I think it’s gone full circle to be honest. When we started the band it was just me and Ryan in his bedroom or my bedroom making beats. We weren’t really thinking about how we would work as a live band, and then we started to play gigs. Eventually, we got a band around us and it was all about the live aspect, but now we’ve gone back to just being sat in the studio and thinking about things more on a production level. The creative evolution of the band has simply gone full circle.

TSH: What’s the studio dynamic like with yourself and Ryan?

Dom: It’s always been easy for me and Ryan to write music together, it’s always been us two writing music in the studio. Our vibe is definitely not intense, obviously it gets a bit hairy when you’ve been in the studio with someone for 12 hours, and you clash at times, but overall we get on so well.

TSH: With your upcoming music you’ve touched on having more freedom to take your music to a lot of new and exciting places…

Dom: Yeah, totally. I can’t wait for the fans to hear the rest of what we have. Already it feels so great that people are accepting our latest single. The single is a sign of the music we’ve always wanted to make and we’re definitely using more adventurous sounds. Also, it feels liberating to be able to record and produce ourselves too.

TSH: With notable recent world events, has your subject matter shifted?

Dom: We actually started writing for this record way back when the general election was happening, before Corbyn and stuff. All of our songs were written, and now we’ve got this whole fucking Trump and Brexit crap. We definitely have a few songs on the record about hope and frustration with world events; I mean the world has been in turmoil for a few years. I certainly feel it’s true that the best music is made in dire and testing times.

TSH: When you look back at ‘Don’t Say That’, what stands out?

Dom: That album was just us being really excited. The subject matter and what we were talking about with the lyrics didn’t have much personal attachment to it. It was just me and Ryan getting to know each other as songwriters. I almost see the first record as a snapshot of a time gone by. I remember we were signed within 4 or 5 months. That record is a few years condensed and crammed into an album, we didn’t really get a chance to grow too much, you know? It was the start of our relationship, but with this album we’ve settled in. We know what we want to do now, and we’re creating the music we want to make…

TSH: Your latest single ‘Double Dutch’ signifies a swing in instrumentation too…

Dom: Yeah, this track just felt right from the outset. I had the bassline and drums and then wanted like a jump-rope type of vocal feel to it. On my searches I came across double dutch videos and found a voice with a certain air and it just complimented the chords perfectly. The track was all based around the sample. Once we found the sample, we just got the music to fit and it didn’t require loud shouty vocals since the sample is spoken in a calm and cool way.

TSH: We’ve also seen the artwork/stickers for ‘Double Dutch’ appear on tubes, buses and even laundromats…

Dom: Yeah, we thought it was a cool idea. I mean we haven’t really been rehearsing as of yet, so it’s been all about Instagram and stuff. We just wanted to get the album artwork out there so that people can associate it with the song. We put the stickers in places that we imagine these girls would be hanging out – sort of where we see the song fitting, it’s just a bit of fun.

TSH: Knowing you had no money or label, how tough was it to overcome the hurdles that you encountered?

Dom: Oh man, it has been crazy! Me and Ryan were living together and we got evicted from our flat. It’s been so hard. I think because we were half way through this record, we felt like we couldn’t just give up and go get a full-time job. Seeing the radio plays and fans reacting positively to our latest single is already very rewarding. It’s gonna be really cool to get more songs out there. That’s when I’ll breathe and relax a bit more!

TSH: Was it a liberating experience to mix the record in the US?

Dom: Being in the sunshine and having the record finished on the last day of mixing - that was kind of like seeing the happy place. I mean previously we were in a shitty studio in Hackney talking about how we were going to even progress and get a label, and then to be in the US with a finished record in our hand - that was great!

TSH: Do you still look at pictures of Damon Albarn?

Dom: Ha! You know about that. Yeah, he definitely is a huge inspiration. Damon Albarn is simply a genius. I can’t wait for the new Gorillaz record.

TSH: When was the last time you saw The Goonies?

Dom: I haven’t actually seen it in ages, but my housemates are looking to watch a movie later on, so I think I know what I’ll be suggesting. However, I saw a movie called Victoria recently, it’s all shot in one shot and they did only like three takes of it and they used the second take. The movie is fuckin amazing and incredible, it’s shot in Berlin. It starts slowly, but by the end, you’re screaming at the TV.

TSH: Is music your way of unwinding too?

Dom: Yeah man, I’m just constantly doing music. I don’t even unwind! I’ve accumulated so much music over the last few years. You know, I just can’t not put my headphones on at all times. Even when I’m in bed, I just get a laptop out and start making music. I’d love to say that I go running and that I exercise frequently, but kicking back for me is just having a cup of tea and making music.

TSH: Do you have much perspective with regards to where the band is heading as you look ahead?

Dom: I’m optimistic, that’s for sure. I think to a certain extent we were guilty of playing to the gallery early on in our career. We were making music with other people in mind when we first started, but now it’s totally just me and Ryan. We’re making music we really love and it definitely shows. I can’t wait to play live and hit the festival circuit, and I just hope people get involved in our journey and enjoy it.

Superfood - “You Can Believe”

Double Dutch