#this is what happens when you put a goth with a pop punk (who is sometimes emo)

[engagemythrusters]

(space katy perry continues to play in the background)

#this is what happens when you put a goth with a pop punk (who is sometimes emo) #anyway maul is living in a world where destroying kenobi is the goal #and ezra lives in a world where Teen Angst #(im kidding im well aware of the manipulative abuse that would go into a real maul and ezra padawanship) #(but this is so funny to me) #so yeah. have this 2 hour drawing thing. i didn't wanna combine them together bc im too lazy. #and also yeah i know my handwriting sucks. xoxo. #darth maul #ezra bridger #star wars: rebels #star wars #my art #mimse art

[decayingdollette]

I wrote this bc I was feeling impulsive. I’m sorry if this sucks lmaoooo

Adam & Lawrence with a goth girlfriend

Adam:

This guy listened to industrial music in Saw I and even had friends in bands who were doing shows, since he likes industrial music and punk most likely he definitely would be stoked that you’re goth. Not in an objectifying way, he genuinely loves the goth music like the Cure, Joy Division, hell he probably heard some Christian Death and Type O Negative songs. Maybe Strawberry Switchblade.

How does the fact of you being goth pop up? If you met in a record store and you were either super trad goth with your pikes and teased hair he would be over the moon that goths still existed in town. He’d be a bit nervous and awkward but we love that.

You guys consequently exchange numbers, and you thought he was a sweet guy so you ask for his. He never gave you the ick. Matter of fact you found him cute and wholesome almost immediately.

You call him almost week later after being busy with work since you went to the record store on a Sunday. And he tries so hard to not fanboy. “Pretty goth actually called me back omgomgomgomg” he internally screams. You guys agree to meet up at a new record store opposite of town.

He would play random shit in his car or yours with cds, or the radio, and somehow that one Sisters of Mercy song pops up. Can you guess what it is?

He’s gonna mutter “She’s Lost Control” by Joy Division because one day it just starts playing in his head. You could be anywhere. The park, the mall, Lawrence’s house. You just find it adorable.

Honestly no other person has really supported your goth side, much less accepted it. Adam isn’t goth but he at least respects the subculture and doesn’t call you weird fetishy names.

He definitely raves about you to all his friends, including Lawrence, who was never goth but has been alive when goth music was at its beginning. Lawrence knows probably one or two Soft Cell songs and would bring them up if he was with you both.

If you’re a musician or are friends with a goth musician he will definitely create flyers and take concert pics. You as a musician he will take pics for your album covers. He refuses to not do it for free because his reward is that you’re his muse.

If you’re going to goth night he would want you to goth him up. Put white foundation on him and the grey contour!! Put eyeliner on his waterline!! Tease his hair!!

When you start dating, he will definitely bring stuff from antique stores. He goes thrifting a lot, he somehow finds an obscure Rosetta Stone cassette tape. Or a grey rosary for you to wear.

Lawrence

Forgive me if I get this wrong but wasn’t he like in his 20s during the 80s during the prime goth time? He’s heard of goths but lowkey meshes their label with new wave listeners.

He divorced his wife and was estranged from her and their daughter so things have been going downhill

Until you guys somehow bump into each other…at a hardware store

You want to paint your new room. You don’t immediately know why Lawrence is there.

You make eye contact and you smile. He doesn’t smile back immediately but you drop something three aisles down and he picks it up for you because he happened to be looking for the same thing. You panic a little because he has a cane. He turns out fine.

You thank him, ask if he’s okay, and say you like his tie, which has a silver iridescent color. He says he’s fine, and that you have an interesting new wave hair style 😂 you’re goth, not necessarily new wave. You thank him anyway.

You ask a staff member if this store has the brand of steel cleaning solution you’re looking for, and they say no. Lawrence starts telling you he think he saw it at a neighboring convenience store. You thank him and wink. Flirty mf. Then you ask his name.

Mans really says his full name.

Oh Lord, you have a crush on this man.

How are you gonna find him? Fuck, you don’t even know him. But you find out he’s an ONCOLOGIST when you mention to your metal head friend that he said his full name. FULL NAME.

Your friend teases you hella.

Said friend has an anesthesia appointment at where Lawrence works unbeknownst to you both and you’re their ride home. You dropped one of your keys, your house key. Fuck. You have to go back and you realize you lost the key drive 5 minutes into dropping off your friend. As soon as you’re back and you scavenge the parking garage for the facility, thankfully locating your key, Lawrence’s shift is over. He looks tired as he walks with his cane. and you spot him exiting the backdoor. But you call his name and he perks up. You’re not looking as goth today, but he still recognizes you and he smiles and says your name.

He asks what you’re doing here, and you say coyly that you dropped your key and that the ring that hangs all the keys was not sturdy enough. He nods and doesn’t break a smile or laugh, or frown. He just tells you to be careful.

Okay you know what, you ask him out for coffee and his number because YOLO. There’s no Instagram or Snapchat so how else would you guys keep in touch??

He says yes????????? You honestly thought he’d decline because…idk. People either find goth girls weird or hot. Sometimes both…for the most wrong reasons.

You call him and ask his day off, which are always Saturdays and Sundays. He insists on picking you up. You kinda hoped you could girlboss and drive him. Maybe next time ;) you tease your hair that day so he will make the new wave comment.

He does. “New wave today once again (Name).” You chuckle and ask what bands he likes.

He mentions Duran Duran and Soft Cell, but that’s about it. Then you go off on your goth side.

I feel like he is more of a jazz and classical piano music guy. I don’t know why. But you haven’t even listened to those genres much until now, and you make him remember a Siouxsie and the Banshees song, probably Spellbound? Now he buys their whole album. And you are now dabbling in jazz and classical piano. It’d be funny if you were a deathrocker, it would be a cute opposite to his Chopin collection.

I’ll write for other characters, feel free to suggest any

#saw #saw movie #saw movies #saw franchise #saw fandom #adam stanheight x reader #lawrence gordon x reader #adam stanheight #lawrence gordon #saw x reader #saw headcanons

[omegaremix]

Powers, 1998.

Powers was the most awesome staff writer and editor I thought we had at the Compass, community college’s campus newspaper. He was considered a true punk with his tall lanky frame, slicked-back black hair, glasses, red cheeks, and leather jacket, and skinny jeans covering up his nerdy exterior. We had punks back in Brentwood but to me they were off-limits as they looked down on our alternative circle of friends and I. Powers was more approachable and accessible as we were on the same team so I got to know him. Eventually, he offered to cut me a tape and here it is.

On a campus with nothing but unchallenging Long Island club music, Top 40 radio, and lots of their shallow follower fan-base still holding on to their high-school mentality, This was iconoclastic. This was during a time when tape-trading and mixtapes (literally) was in full-swing, all before fire-sharing and burning took over. It was also during a time when tacky hot pink cowboy hats, fake blonde hair, and clean cut pop design was put on top of a pedestal forcing to be the best. No thanks.

You have your history-written essentials by The New York Dolls and Johnny Thunders followed by The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, and The Clash. More UK from Crass, Sham 69, and Subhumans U.K., and Anti-Nowhere League. Then the state’s Bad Brains, Minor Threat, and Dead Kennedys. One-timers in speed metal, goth, thrash, even garage that still connected to punk? Yes, they’re there.

It’s been years since I listened to his tape. Looking at the handwritten track-listing, I came a long way all by myself. We played “Born To Lose”, “New Rose”, “Ever Fallen In Love (You Shouldn’t Have Fallen In Love With?)”, and “That’s When I Reach For My Revolver” on Omega WUSB throughout its course. We also played about more than half of these bands on this tape through our other shows and bonus Omega specials. With the wealth of ideas going on, another punk special is way past overdue and this lost tape lights up the entire matchbook. 

What happened to Powers? I haven’t seen him since we moved on from community college. All I know is he’s somewhere in Boston, who should’ve enjoyed the last three Red Sox championships and a Bruins cup. As with all friendships of that era, we just can’t stand each other. We wear each other out, dissipate, maybe a visit or heads-up or two and that’s it. Sick of each other and never to be bothered again. And I’m perfectly fine with that. 

Thanks.

Side A:

Johnny Thunders & The Heartbreakers “Born To Lose”

Damned, The “New Rose”

Sex Pistols “Submission”

New York Dolls “Human Being”

The Ramones “Chinese Rocks”

The Clash “Janie Jones”

Eddie & The Hot Rods “Get Out Of Denver”

Dictators “Faster And Louder”

Buzzcocks, The “Ever Fallen In Love (You Shouldn’t Have Fallen In Love With?)”

Sham 69 “Borstal Breakout”

Boys “Cop Cars”

Crass “Do They Owe Us A Living?”

4 Skins “One Low For Them”

Anti-Nowhere League “I Hate People”

Exploited, The “Dogs Of War”

Real Kids “Do The Boob”

La Peste “Better Off Dead”

Side B:

Subhumans U.K. “Religious Wars”

T.S.O.L. “80 Times”

Mission Of Burma “That’s When I Reach For My Revolver”

Lyres “I Wanna Help You Anne”

Undead “Nightmare”

Bad Brains “Regulator”

Suicidal Tendencies “I Want More”

Misfits, The “Last Caress”

Minor Threat “Think Again”

Descendants, The “Hope”

Dead Kennedys “Terminal Preppie”

Circle Jerks “Back Against The Wall”

Motorhead “Another Perfect Day”

Chaos U.K. “Selfish Few”

Patrick Fitzgerald “Irrelevant Battles”

Dropkick Murphys “Finnegan’s Wake”

New Bomb Turks “Minivan Wages Of Sin”

Electric Frankenstein “Get Of My Back!”

#punk #garage #speed #personal #friends #Long Island #Boston #omega #music #playlists #mixtapes

[neutralgray]

Saw this video in the #goth tag here and it was a very informative take on the concept of "mallgoth" being considered an insult back in the 2000's, when that "era" of style was most predominant. It explained how lots of zoomers look back at my era of youth a decade ago and think that is what goth is. But I did find myself somewhat disagreeing with the person's take.

I didn't reblog it because I didn't really feel like having a disagreement or open debate with someone because I'm far too tired for that and I just don't care for the conflict. It did make me think, however, and I wanted to put my thoughts out there on the concept of "mallgoth" as it's used in modern nomenclature.

My thoughts can be summed up as simply: it's fine. It's not really a big deal. See, I think that it's difficult to define tropes of an era while still in an era. When you lived in the 90's you didn't really analyze what "dressing" like the 90's meant. You didn't analyze what "2000's" style clothing was yet. You understood the tropes of the 60's, 70's, and 80's, but the tropes that define the decade you are living in are difficult to codify when you are IN it. It's only looking back that you really see the primary surviving remnants of what people remember.

"Mall goth" may have been an insult used towards "goth posers" in the 2000's by "real goths" but let's be real. That was just gatekeeping bullshit to keep young goth kids who were enamored with the culture but didn't fully understand it yet OUT of the scene. It's the same bullshit you see in every community on the defensive. Lots of "mall goth" kids were fascinated with the culture and drawn to it and while some grew out of it, many still consider it part of who they are. I still heavily identify with goth aesthetics, culture, and interests despite not openly always appearing as a "goth person."

This is to say while "mall goth" may have been coined as an insult; I feel like it's unfair to reject the term in modern language because, as I said, it's difficult to define a subgenre of style/culture or its codifying tropes while you live through it. It's only after the dust settles on an era that the shining gems of what defined that era really come through. To say "mall goth" wasn't a "real" era of goth culture or that it could never be a sub-variant like gothic lolita seems like a flawed take to me. History is written and interpreted after it happens.

I personally think the term "mall goth" isn't a bad term, and it does describe a lot of that era of gothic pop culture understanding in a very easy catch all term. I personally have no issue with zoomers identifying with it or waxing nostalgic about something from my teenage years. Granted, it freaks me out that kids today are nostalgic for MY youth like a lot of goth and punks from the 90's and 2000's were nostalgic for the 80's era we didn't live through, but that's more to do with the fact that it reminds me I'm "aging out" of things.

When we look at back at that era of cheap chains and black polyester and way too much Nightmare Before Christmas merchandise, I feel there was a certain sense of fun to it. A means of expressing one's self freely for their macabre and morbid interests-- a want to be a part of an interesting culture bigger than one's self. The accessibility of said culture for the youth of that era largely came from stores like Hot Topic and Spencer's-- the "mall" in "mall goth."

I'm completely okay re-appropriating and redefining the word as a specific era of young goth culture with its own distinct style. It's the recontextualization-- the codifying and understanding of the tropes of that era. My era. Fuck thinking of it as an insult.

I personally look back at it fondly, whether I was considered a "real" goth or a "mall" goth.

#Goth #Gothic #Mall goth #2000's goth #Rant #Grey's thoughts

[mikecuenca]

Trash Heap Souvenir No. 7

Punk Rock & Horror Shows.

October 10, 2022

I call my mom to verify facts.

“The teacher had you write an essay about your parents and your home life and you typed up a whole newspaper,” she tells me then laughs.

“Wait, what?” I vaguely recall this. I mean, I don’t even remember where I park my car half the time.

“You were in second grade. It was supposed to be a blurb and you brought her a stack of pages!”

On that typewriter in my dad’s office I started making up stories. And I went above and beyond on creative school assignments. Math and history assignments? Horrible. Get me to pay attention in class and you’d receive a medal. But when I was given wiggle room I’d go to town.

“That’s what happened. You had a teacher and you showed her that her statistics were wrong. School officials noticed and that’s why you were taken out of high school.”

At fourteen or fifteen I was placed in a dual enrollment program at Santa Ana Middle College High School: you’d take college courses and also receive high school credit. And it happened at the best time. Because I took a film history class. And that changed my entire world. It really did.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here. Since the reason I had a social worker it’s ‘cause I had gotten arrested.

“You started wearing all black, and spiking your hair and dressing the way you did. Which was shocking. Neither of your brothers turned out that way and we didn’t know why you did. They sent over a social worker who told me and your dad that you’re a good kid. ‘He’s intelligent and has high grades. You just need to see what he has on the inside; not what he wears on the outside. You have to accept who he is.’ And because of what she told us we did. And I’m not calling you out now, you’ve made your decisions, but you received three scholarships, mi niño —three scholarships and you turned them all down because you didn’t want to go to school anymore. You said for what you wanted to do, you didn’t need it.”

Jesus Christ.

===

1996-1998.

To say I was peculiar is a nice way of putting it. Misguided. Upset. I was a Freshman in high school and nobody, not one soul knew I was dating a popular cheerleader a grade higher. Especially not the boys who picked on me; athletes Liliana hung out with. It was as cliché as it gets. They would gang up on me and mock me and spit on me in gym class. So I started carrying a huge knife in my backpack. Next time I get shoved around I’m gonna stab a motherfucker.

I got this ghoulish preoccupation with vampires. One kid in school, whose name totally escapes me, would go to the Barnes and Nobles in Costa Mesa and steal a shit ton of books and flip them at a huge discounted rate. In some way, similar to what I used to do with my bootleg music tapes. I had him nab me almost a dozen books on bloodsuckers.

“Secret destroyer, hold you up to the flames.”

My favorite band were The Smashing Pumpkins (MELLON COLLIE being the one CD my dad ever bought me, a double-disc set too). I spent many late afternoons lying on my bedroom floor, staring at my glow-in-the-dark-star covered ceiling, listening to that album as darkness enveloped the room. And soon their goth-pop masterpiece ADORE would be released. The song “Bullet with Butterfly Wings”, as popular and overplayed as it is, carries a title that perfectly describes exactly what that band is. How they feel. Which is how an eccentric, angsty yet hopeful teenager feels. And Pumpkins fans, actual Pumpkins fans, are very special people I’ve come to find out. Nirvana fans were angsty and rebellious, but their time had passed, and now this band was the most popular in the world. Sure, they too were angsty and rebellious, but they were also romantic and mystical and covered an array of styles, reflected in the hearts of their listeners.

SCREAM had been released and I watched it about six to eight times in theatres. I wanted to hear what people would say when the killer was revealed. This one guy during one of the showings goes, “Who is that in there?” I think about his frustration all the time. It made me chuckle at the moment. SCREAM lead me to pay close attention to HALLOWEEN and PSYCHO; Hitchcock becoming my favorite director. It was easy. He was a household name. I was fucking blown away by PSYCHO. The goddamned dialogue. The pacing. That music. And then one nite during a SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE commercial break I’m flipping channels and I stop on PBS and it’s showing this old black and white movie with an eerie, chilly score. I don’t know what it is but I am captivated. A brother is taunting his sister at a cemetery telling her that they, whoever they are, are coming for her. I couldn’t stop watching. And when the ending hit it fucking hit, let me tell you. I was in shock. Couldn’t believe it. But I fell in love with NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD. I immediately brought it over to Alex Solis ‘cause I showed him everything.

“Dude, we gotta watch this!”

“Whoa, this is just like RESIDENT EVIL [the 1996 video game]! But better!!!”

My mom was a horror nut. I say was ‘cause now she hardly goes near them due to her health issues. She gets too involved with them. But that’s all she ever watched: Spanish soap operas and horror movies. My dad? Hated ‘em. So when he was off gambling on Sundays my mom would sit on her throne and marathon all the horror programs UPN would screen: THE PUPPET MASTERs, HELLRAISER, CUJO, the FRIDAY THE 13THs, this one flick whose ending haunted me forever and I recently learned was BURNT OFFERINGS, and so forth. But no vampire movies at nite. No way. They gave her nightmares and she’d always wake up checking her neck for fang marks. Nite or day, you couldn’t trouble me with any that stuff. At five years of age I’d hide under the coffee table when the Freddy’s coming for you song would play on the TV. I was such a ‘fraidy cat.

Until I got a taste of the real thing.

1994. There was a burglar, maybe serial rapist preying on our neighborhood. It was a Sunday. My dad was off who knows where and my mom was marathoning her horror shows. There’s a knock at the door. This is right when we had moved to Seventeenth Street. We didn’t have a peephole. After this we did. I look through the blinds covering the window to the left of the door. I see a white tee, blue jeans, kind of like a greaser/mechanic, and I immediately associate the person with Luis, my brother. He usually visits late Sunday afternoons after he gets out of the car shop.

I don’t know how she sensed it from the entertainment room on the other side of the house. Call it instinct. I go to unlock the door and my mom flies in like a bullet screaming, “No! NO! NO!”

The guy kicks the door open and my mom throws herself right at it as he rabidly swings his arm through the crack, trying to grab at her.

“Call the police!” she screams.

I panic. She’s shrieking. The guy is yelling angry nonsense.

“CALL THE POLICE!”

The rotary phone is literally next to me. I can’t think clearly so I run across the entire house, through the entertainment room, into my dad’s office and phone from there. I’m yelling at the cops about what’s going on. I run back to the living room, to the front door of the house and my mom is on the floor in tears. The door has been shut.

My mom, who is far from an athletic woman, found the strength in her to protect that entry. The guy gave up and ran away. Of course, it took the cops a good hour before they showed up. And by that point Luis had arrived. I told the cops I thought the guy was my brother. They give Luis a hard, suspicious look. I gave them one too. The following week a neighbor a street or two down wasn’t as lucky. I was too young to care to learn if the criminal was ever caught.

Enter: THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE.

You know when you never hear or know of something and then you come across it and now all of a sudden you’re noticing it everywhere? That’s what  happened with CHAINSAW. I was eleven and I kept seeing the name TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE everywhere. So I rented it and watched it with my parents, my aunt, my uncle, my cousin (all who lived with us at the time), super late at night. It was the greatest, most terrifying thing I’d ever seen. It was beautiful. And I was scared for my life. The whole time I’m sitting there convinced it’s a true story. And I can’t believe this happened. Months later when we’d go on a cross-country road trip my heart raced as we drove through Texas at dusk.

The movie ends. I’m trembling, making my way to my sleeping quarters (I no longer had a bedroom). My dad stops me and goes, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“…whu--- huh--- what?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Sunday night.” I blink my eyes at him a few times. He concludes, “Take out the trash.”  

The garbage men come by on Monday morning. I forgot.

Uhhhhh………..

It’s two AM. I’m dragging the garbage bins out. And as I’m making my way to the sidewalk from a distance I hear… bbrrrrrr… BRRRR… BRR! BRR! What sounds like a fucking chainsaw!!!! I am not kidding here. I fucking hurl the trash bin, all the garbage falls out, and bolt inside the house in terror!

My dad, “What in the hell…?”

Turns out it was our meth head neighbor down the block who was mowing his lawn in the middle of the night.

But TEXAS got me cinched. And I delved into horror.

So here I was, a freshman, the Smashing Pumpkins on my discman, meat clever in my backpack alongside a stack of Dracula books. And no friends.

The way Saddleback High worked is that the freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors all had different lunch hours. Hence, nobody knew I was dating Liliana. Which I was actually relived by because she was cute and I was a lot younger (adding that I was a year ahead in school) and a skinny-bone-Jones and a dweeb and no one would believe their eyes anyhow. But because of the school’s offbeat scheduling you just never crossed paths with anybody anymore. My nerdy MacArthur junior high friends all went to other schools and I never saw them again. And our schedules clashed so I rarely saw Solis outside of our Saturday hangs which were becoming less frequent.

But when we did hang Solis and I would goof off with our large assortment of action figures. We’d have them get into adventures and I’d tape the whole thing. Listen, this is as dorky as dorky gets. I spent many hours in my bedroom, yeah, playing with action figures until I was about eleven years old. But I’d make up stories and give the toys dialogue. With Solis now puppeteering I could actually record this.

And this is not long after I gathered the school kids who made that video homework assignment. If they could make a movie, I could make a movie. So I wrote some sort of script. My memory doesn’t serve me well so I have no idea what it was about. But I rehearsed them and started taping them with my camcorder. We got into a verbal fight, never spoke again, and I never finished the thing.

A year later is when I was dropped into Middle College High. I was supposed to be a high school sophomore but instead I was on a college campus! Chris Pierce and Jonathan “Deez” Saldovar were my best friends. I’d gone to grade school with them but we didn’t actually become friends until Santa Ana Middle College High. There was this punk rock kid named Max in one of our classes. And Max always wore a Circle Jerks shirt and Sex Pistols patches. I inquired about those bands and he gave me shit. Typical punk. Chris and Max became friends and in the blink of an eye Chris was an anarcho-punk.

I was either in a history or who knows what class. There I met Megan. “It’s pronounced Me-Gan,” she’d say. And Me-gan had a boyfriend, or someone, can’t remember, who was roommates with Travis Barker. And this was when he was still with The Aquabats. Just some random trivia. I see Me-Gan working on this cool poster. She’s drawing this punk with spiked hair (“They’re called liberty spikes.”) who’s protesting and there’s a bullet going through his head. I asked her what that is. She said it’s from an album by her favorite punk band. “Do you listen to punk?”

“Punk? What’s punk?” I asked her.

“Here,” she reached into her backpack and slammed a CD case on our shared school desk. “You can borrow it but bring it back. If you don’t I swear I’ll beat the shit out of you.” I put this scene into SCENES FROM OBLIVION, my abandoned first feature film.

I didn’t quite get the Subhumans. But I tried. I played THE DAY THE COUNTRY DIED over and over, reading along the lyrics. I gave Me-Gan back the CD and eventually nabbed Subhumans - EP/LP and Crass – CHRIST – THE ALBUM (next to BEST BEFORE, certainly the weirdest and most inaccessible Crass album) from a grimy (and nifty) Tower Records at the Anti-Mall. The rest is history.

By the time I was supposed to be a junior I dressed like a walking newspaper.

The first concert I’d ever been to was Green Day opening for Madness. With Chris and Deez. And then the first show I ever went to was also with Chris and Deez at The Showcase Theater in Corona; Narcoleptic Youth and Atomic Bombs on the bill. I always thought musicians were like Gods; you could never meet them in real life. They were ants on a stage and that’s as close as you got. And here they’re right in front of your face, playing loud, playing fast. After their set they’re selling their own band tees and patches at a booth in the venue. They were so approachable. This is what punk meant to me. These musicians were real people like you and I. That night I came home a tad late without calling in. My dad lost his shit and hurled me against the closet door. And our callous feud began.

I got into politics. It was 2000. Chris, Deez, and I were about to head off to the Warped Tour. I was gonna pass out all these flyers. The flyer had a drawing of Christopher Columbus on it and at the top in bold black letters it read “RAPIST”. I made about fifty to seventy copies but I also made a big mistake. I left the original flyer in my dad’s photocopy machine. And when he saw that shit, oh my God. He flipped his lid and accosted me, yelling that this is communist propaganda.  

A year later when I was trying to get a band together, this girl Monica, a guitarist accomplice of mine, we were working on songs in my room. She had parked in our driveway and on her rear windshield she had a decal of Che Guevara. My dad saw that and— let’s just say Monica left exasperated and sobbing. No commie anything around my dad. Nothing, nothing near him that resembles the country he was forced to leave.

Our collective parents gave us so much shit. Deez’s parents were chill but Chris’s were conservative Christians. They’d scoff at our “anarchist leanings”. We were fledging and naïve and thought we could change the world. We couldn’t even change our band patches without leaving huge holes in our clothing. I was dressing now in all-black with sewn on patches everywhere and political logos, raiding record shops for anarcho or crust albums.

I picked up The Adicts’ SONGS OF PRAISE from Black Hole Records thinking I was in for some crusty stuff and then I was shocked to hear this dude that reminded me of Robert Smith belting out the catchiest punk singles I’d ever heard. Still one of my favorite bands. They all are. I’ve never abandoned anything I grew up listening to.

What I consider one of the greatest coming-of-age summer days of my life, one which I intended to loosely replicate in BOYS ABOUT TOWN and wasn’t able to, is when Deez, Chris, and I hit up Bionic and I bought two albums that forever shaped me: Rudimentary Peni’s DEATH CHURCH and The Adolescents’ blue album. That afternoon I met my future second girlfriend Amanda #1 aka Chris’ cousin. A couple rounds of truth or dare later and I was beguiled. With time, me being with Amanda would cause my friendship with Chris to dissolve. Went from best friends to full on enemies. We patched things up as adults.

Liliana had been the girl next door, personality-wise. She actually lived at the opposite end of the block. We didn’t have much in common except for sharing first experiences. She was my first everything and I was with her from the ages of twelve to fourteen. Amanda was definitely not as conservative as Lily. She was into punk. And movies. She most definitely loved SCREAM and its trail of teen slasher knockoffs and watched BUFFY regularly on TV. She was offbeat. Adventurous. And loved to cover her face in glitter. That was the first thing I noticed about her. That and her radiant cat-like green eyes. I found her really beautiful and she even shared a prominent resemblance to Katie Holmes, a compliment she got a lot; DAWSON’S CREEK was all the rage amongst young teens at the time. Amanda also went to school in an entirely different district. In Fullerton. And get this: she too was a cheerleader.

Remember Angie? The stoner who was into the Doors, Misfits, and Smiths at Middle College? Well, she hung around this other group of kids who I wound up getting along with really well. And these kids were very much into ‘60s and ‘70s rock. There was this girl Kat. She was into Janis Joplin. Boom. Off I went and got The Big Brother & the Holding Company’s albums and Joplin’s PEARL from Columbia House. I didn’t know shit about this music. How could I? My parents only listened to old school Spanish stuff. There was no such thing as dad-rock, a term that used to send me laughing. “Yeah, dad-rock to me is Julio Iglesias.” Because of my Janis Joplin deep-dive I thought Robert Plant was a woman. I got lent Zeppelin’s first album and I’m playing it in my mom’s car as we’re driving away from the video store and “Whole Lot of Love” comes on and I thought, “Man, this chick sure knows how to belt!” I got Led Zeppelin’s entire discography in box set form and played it endlessly in my room. Amanda and I would spend hours on the phone talking. She’d ultimately get aggravated and tell me to put some other music on in the background because it’s been five months of NON-STOP LED ZEPPELIN. Her dad chimed in, “What’s wrong with that?”

And I must have played Sabbath’s PARANOID album about eight-thousand times. That album is the most addictive album of all fucking time. And soon I got into Donavan and Dylan and Jefferson Airplane and Creedence. And MORRISON HOTEL, the Doors’ best album, IMO. I was hearing all these things for the first time. And one day I go into Bionic and I buy a Dystopia album along with the Beatles SGT. PEPPER’S. The middle-aged clerk gave me a puzzled look, “These both are for you?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a very strange kid.”

That Beatles album knocked me out. When I’d take over the stereo in my parents’ car while they were driving, as any teenager should, that’s the album I’d pop on ‘cause I knew they both wouldn’t get annoyed by it.

I just got reminded how I caught my mom humming along to my NEVERMIND CD.

“What’s your favorite band, ma?”

“Los Bukis.”

So I got into all this different kind of rock music all at the same time. Some of the ’70s loving schoolmates also dug the shit out of the ‘80s and soon I was drowning myself in The Cure and Depeche Mode and New Order, Bauhaus and Siouxsie. Goddamn, man. To be a teenager and discovering all these worlds and really marinating in albums. Really marinating in them. I would give anything to experience all those tunes for the first time again.

Rewinding back to the first year at Middle College High. 1998-1999. Deez, Chris, and I bonded over our love of Korn. Uh-huh. Those first two albums. But the third one was the bait-- Todd MacFarlane of SPAWN animated one of their music videos. But we hit it off like you would never believe. The two had been childhood friends and now I had joined the party.

I was so damn angry right before we had become friends. So pissed off. Tired of being bullied around. Ignored. Cast aside. Here I was at this new school and I didn’t know anybody. I ended up befriending this shifty tall kid named Rikk. And Rikk had major chicken pox scars. And he was super deep voiced. There definitely was something odd about him. And we talked a lot about our love of slasher movies. And soon we were talking about the kids in school we hated. Specifically, which ones we would kill had we the chance. This gets very dark here-- we’d go over how we’d murder with knives. And it got to the point where we’d act it out. Soon we were drawing maps of where we’d commit these acts. There was this outdoor elevator right by our school bungalows. Boom. We’d get so-and-so there. And I’m not kidding when I say it started to get too grim. And me? I just went, “Fuck it. Fuck them. Fuck everybody.” But my moral compass sounded off. No way was I actually going to do any of these things. I stopped hanging out with Rikk. Instead, because of my love for horror movies I started writing a slasher script where two school kids do exactly what we were jokingly going to do and they film the whole thing and release it. But I don’t know anything about making movies. Maybe I should start taking this seriously. I was on a college campus and there were a ton of film courses! What am I waiting for?

But my friendship with Deez and Chris and all the shenanigans we got into distracted me from my goals. One afternoon we caught this new music video. It could have been CKY.  And the music video is made up of pranks done on a camcorder. Remember when I used to hurl rocks at cars from my rooftop? Now I was like, “Dude. We should do pranks and I’m gonna record it.” And we did. Cut to Deez pushing Chris in a shopping cart down Seventeenth Street during rush hour and he’s mooning all the cars. Got it on video. That school elevator? Pissed in it. Got it on video. The Taco Bell drive-thru sign? Kicked it down. Got it on video.

My neighbor was Elvia Palacios. My mom’s friend. Also Cubana. Her son Gilbert was a handful of years older than me, Deez, and Chris. We gave him dough to nab us beer from the local 711. And we got Tequiza. The first beer I ever had. And actually, I didn’t even drink much of it. I downed about two-and-a-half inches worth. I just didn’t see the appeal. I didn’t know what being drunk was. I didn’t know that’s the reason people drank. Chris finishes his beer. We’re on the Santa Ana college campus now; I lived three blocks from it. We’re in the lunch area on the second floor and I think it’s a weekend so the whole school is deserted. Or so we deem. I see this group of cholo-looking kids walking below us. I grab my camcorder and look at Chris. “Dude. Throw it.” Deez chuckles. I turn the camcorder on.

Chris doesn’t even think twice. He gets the beer bottle, and I think I even get one too, and we all hurl them at the mini-cholos. We don’t even wait to hear the bottles break. We high-tail it, laughing our asses off, camera still running. We run into that famous elevator laughing so damn hard. I tape us having a grand ol’ time in there. We hit the bottom floor, the elevator doors open, we rush out and --- WOOOOOOOP! Campus security corners us.

They take my camera. They sit us against a wall. The cops show up. They take a good look at the three of us. “What gang you in?” Santa Ana used to be riddled with gangs. We don’t say a word.

The other cop takes a look at our shoes. “Huh. Never seen a gang wearing Chucks before.”

Campus security hands them my camera. “They have this.”

They look through my recordings. “Oh,” the cop chuckling. “This is incriminating.”

There it was, all immortalized: all the vandalizing, the pranks, and if you rewound far enough, footage of Solis making his action figures hump (“Hey, make sure you don’t see my face!”).

And on our persons? The rest of the Tequiza bottles.

Oh, man. Oh, man. We were in hot shit. We’re cuffed. Thrown into the back of a police car. Neither of us is able to mutter a word. My dad is going to fucking kill me. My dad is going to shit. My dad is going to fucking shit my skeleton out through my mouth. I glance over at Chris who looks as upset as I feel. We realize the cops are playing The Offspring in their vehicle. Welcome to OC.

“I’ve got a bad habit.”

My dad and I had been getting into it bad. My mom had been away in Cuba that past summer and my pops without my mom around was a wreck. He didn’t know how pick his own clothes, couldn’t handle laundry, kept forgetting to eat, kept forgetting to shave. And we would get into yelling matches all the time. It was terrible. One day he caught me, Deez, and Chris paired off with girls (me with Amanda), doing some questionable sexual activities in separate rooms of the house and he threw me out. I had to go stay at Amanda’s parent’s place.

Now we were in a juvenile holding cell awaiting our murky assignations with our parents. We thought we were going to do time. In juvey. We didn’t say anything for a while. I then said, “Wouldn’t it be cool if there was a zombie attack and all the cops get eaten and the zombies can’t get in here and we’re just like here watching them die?” We started to laugh. Cheer up.

I was the last one to leave. And I sat there by myself for a very long time, shitting bricks. Apparently, they showed all our parents the footage. Ay caramba!

The cops, “They won’t say how they got the beer.” I grew up around my dad’s love of gangster movies. I knew better. Rats don’t make it past the front gates. Mum’s the word.

It’s my turn to go. My parents have zero expression on their faces and they’re there with my niece Karina. She just gives me a look. I get into the back seat of the car. No one’s said a word. We get home. No one says a word. Definitely not what I expected. My parents are very colorful and dramatic but now they’re on silent. I go to my room. My dad comes in. And he just says to me, very low-voiced but stern, “All the times I invited you to have a drink with me and you never did. Instead you vandalize and get wasted with a bunch of delinquents.” And he walks away.  

I wish I knew what happened to that tape.

#trashheapsouvenir

[forbidding-souda]

Scenario: THH boys reacting to their punk Y/N secretly jamming out to cheesy 80s tune? (PS I adore your writing how the flip are you so talented I-)

TTH boys reacting to their punk S/O jamming out to cheesy 80s music

OMG!! Talented??? dbaibdflwahs You’re so nice!!! My crush just told me he adores the way I dance and I still haven’t recovered from it wfhbwlbsahaha

april 26th update: FUCKING SHIT THAT DID NOT AGE WELL^^ OH MY GOD IS THIS ASK FROM FUCKING SEPTEMBER/?!?!!??!?!??!?! I'M GONNA CRY

Anyways I feel obligated to write this since I listen to classic punk way more than like ,,,, , , ,,,, ,, , ,,,, , ,,,,,, ,,, shit like operation ivy and rancid you know. I'm more ramones and dead kennedys.

But I'm a metalhead goth so you can see how I can catch a groove.

currently playing (this is embarrassing since I was just talking about being a metalhead goth please ignore this): already down by the matchstick skeletons

-Mod Souda

LEON KUWATA

➳ He sees you sliding against your bedroom floor, using a hairbrush as a fake microphone.

➳ Immediately upon seeing him, you decide to grab his forearm.

➳ All he can do is smile.

➳ This isn't the type of punk he listens to. He listens to more pop-punk; the emo type.

➳ He didn't even know what punk actually meant until he met you.

➳ You still drag him across the floor with you and sing the words into his ear.

➳ And you never let go of his hand. Not even when you pull him up ontop of the bed, jumping on it with him as you sing your heart out.

HAGAKURE YASUHIRO

❤ You walk past him as he pours hot water into a noodle cup. You don't respond when he says good morning, so he looks up.

❤ There are headphones in your ears... in your own house.

❤ When you notice his confusion you pull on out and give him a smile. "Sorry."

❤ He asked you what you are listening to and you show him on your phone.

❤ There's no way he'd even recognize the artist. There's no resemblance in his eyes. All he does is shrug.

❤ "You don't have to hide it." He states, grabbing his noodles and exiting the kitchen.

❤ You watch him walk before unplugging your headphones.

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

♥ He had a specific thing against hearing music whenever he was reading. He did not like the distraction, nor the loudness of whatever you decided to put on.

♥ If anything, he would prefer headphones over you wandering around the house blasting the disgusting riffs and the unlikable vocals.

♥ "Can you please turn your music down, I can hear it through the earphones." He puts a certain emphasis on the word 'music' that you didn't pick up on at first.

♥ You roll your eyes, telling him no in disobedience while following his orders anyway. He watches you curiously. Only for a second. "What are you listening to?"

♥ "The classics."

♥ He clicks his tongue before laying back against his armchair. "That is most definitely not classical music."

MAKOTO NAEGI

♡ You twirl pencils in your hands and imitate drumsticks.

♡ This is like the fourth time you've done this in this class period alone.

♡ Naegi, who sits next to you, has to bear through whatever song you decide to listen to.

♡ There's even a point where he taps on your shoulders.

♡ Instead of being rude and telling you to stop, he instead asks you what song you are listening to.

♡ You freeze for a second. Were you being loud? You didn't notice.

♡ You show him your phone screen with a kind smile.

♡ "It's kinda cheesy."

♡ "I wouldn't know," he replies quietly. There's a moment in the conversation where you can tell he wanted to add something. So you just stare at him, squinting your eyes and waiting for him to continue.

♡ He finishes: "Can we listen together?"

ISHIMARU KIYOTAKA

❥ "I'm punk." You first told him. He thought it was abnormal. That rebellious music, uncultured clothing, and unjust makeup styles made him scared!

❥ It took a while for you to stop caring so much about wearing headphones around you.

❥ Usually, you'd secretly bob your head to the melody and try not to take his attention up too much.

❥ That became tiring.

❥ "What is playing?" He asks, looking down at you as you sit at your desk.

❥ "My music."

❥ "I was under the impression that you were punk."

❥ You lean back into the chair, crossing your arms. "I am. This is punk music, Taka."

❥ His face heats up in embarrassment, but only a little bit. He has no other response except to bow and apologize to you. It makes you laugh. A lot.

MONDO OOWADA

❣ He's a metalhead. Definitely.

❣ And he's pretty elitist about it considering bikers practically set up the creation for the subculture.

❣ You didn't play your music around him because you were shy. It was mostly because you know he'd judge it.

❣ He just happened to wake up early one day and walk into the kitchen as you were playing your music.

❣ "What is this? Pop." He scoffs and digs his head into the fridge.

❣ "Punk babe. You know this."

❣ "If there's no double bass pedal then I don't want it."

HIFUMI YAMADA

ღ Even if you played your music around him, it's not like he would even notice.

ღ He gets distracted rather easily.

ღ It's usually after a long day of work that he tries to take interest in the things you do, as well.

ღ You're cooking dinner, swaying your hips when he comes up behind you.

ღ "This sounds quite spectacular!" He announces.

ღ It scares you, but you don't let it show. His words even process in your head late.

ღ "You like it?" You spin around, excited. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

ღ "It is very catchy." He says plainly before looking off to see what you are cooking.

ღ Usually, he would find himself picking up something instant. But you take care of him. Help him focus. And give him good music to listen to.

CHIHIRO FUJISAKI

✿ There wasn't really any hiding that came with being with him.

✿ He was always ready to listen to whatever you put on.

✿ You left the room, for a second, just to change into pajamas. When you came back, your punk music was playing on the speaker.

✿ And he was bobbing his head to it.

✿ "Do you like it?" You ask, voice almost in a whisper.

✿ "It's very unique. I haven't heard anything like it!"

✿ It was a relief to hear him say that. You would be embarrassed if he didn't like it.

#danganronpa #leon kuwata #leon kuwata x reader #hagakure yasuhiro #byakuya togami #byakuya togami imagines #byakuya togami headcanons #makoto naegi #makoto naegi imagines #mondo oowada #mondo owada x reader #hifumi yamada #hifumi yamada x reader

[sugar-petals]

Cause obviously I love pain can u show us some of youngi's best looks when he was in all his amazing gamine style glory 😂

gamines pull off almost anything as long as the styles they wear are combined from several genres. yoongi has been lucky, k-pop stylists do nothing but.

they can morph a college shirt with satin blazers and put hawaii shirts with random crayon doodles on yoongi in a black cap wearing eyeliner and bracelets.

this kibbe type can borrow the stiff high fashion from dramatic and the dreamy soft fabrics from romantic, no problem. exception: yoongi is too small for pulling off anything that’s flamboyant natural aka joonie-sized.

the opposite is needed. very fitted clothes that are a perfect mix of traditional tailoring for men, with a twist e.g. some shiny surfaces. 

this one... this is good stuff. very gamine haircut and little accessories that round up the look. no other guy can wear this successfully. it’s crossing into SG, but... the fame that the pink suit garnered speaks for itself.

same thing here. traditional cut, modern twist with the bowtie and pattern. gamines are by far the most capable of doing androgyny because they are both very yin and very yang. look also how sharp shoulders are so good on him. yoongi needs that stability in his clothing.

bomber jackets are the gamine go-to. you can’t overdesign them, the busier the embroidery, the better. eclectic jewelry and bleached hair, works perfectly. gamines are the forever young-seeming fashion icons who are underdressed if you don’t overdo it. even red glitter looks normal on him.

that’s why anything formal, uni-colored, or meant for 40+ people will look strange. and yes, even if you’re a 70 year old pure gamine, the rule stands, pick what the youth is wearing. it’ll fit your frame and be way more appropriate. why not dress corporate and mature? look what happens when yoongi does:

complete chaos, the proportions are completely weird. this finds a better place on taehyung who can make the most old-fashioned things look interesting since he’s a dramatic classic (a type that is killed by dressing younger which is why they’re so different from gamines).

gamines look their best and are most comfortable in anything james dean and kate moss would highly approve of. great example, very sexy:

what makes the outfit gamine and not dramatic: combining the yang-heavy jacket with the dots (yin). the bigger the crossover, the better the look. that’s why yoongi can wear the opposite theme of james dean as well. 

i call it: harmless young man at the shore 😂 how cute is he! all in all, you can see the impossible range of this type. they have an even wider spectrum of possibilities than the other types and kibbe already has a lot of recommendations in every style genre for each of the 5 main categories. e.g. you can dress e.g. (soft) dramatics as punk, royal, sporty, beach, office, and so on.

it’s just that gamine is blessed with having two opposing essences — i mean look how ppl love his soft face and his bony hands —which is why they look so good in hybridized looks from two different worlds. that dualism can be as subtle as wearing minimal classic shirts with dangly earrings and shading the face. gamine is best for mixed messages fashion, look at our goth husband.

#yoongi #kibbe #gamine #kibbe types #kibbe body types #anon #ask #cub mail 🐆

[randomvarious]

Athamay - “Kiss the Whip” The Gothic Sounds of Nightbreed Song released in 1996. Compilation released in 1998. Goth / Darkwave

So, if I was gonna make a playlist that was called something like, "Songs From the 90s, But Not From the Early 90s, That Sound Like They're From the 80s," this and probably a bunch of other gothic/darkwave tunes would be on it. See, the 80s didn't actually die when pop music decided that it was time to move on to some other shit; deep in the subversive underground, the goths and BDSM folks actually managed to keep that synthesizer-and-drum-machine-driven content going for a looooong time past December 31, 1989. And now, the synths, they've come full circle, folks! Despite all the technological advances that we've made in music, with digital audio workstations and such, the sounds that emanate from an analog 1980s synthesizer are something that we've actually come to cherish again. And we absolutely love it!

So here's one of those 90s goth bands that sang about BDSM and who helped to keep that 80s goth sound on life support. Athamay, a British trio, who were fronted by a woman who merely goes by the letter J, only released one album in 1996, and then a mini-album promo on CDr in 2003, but they've also operated under the name Torturetekk as well, and as Torturetekk they released one album in 2000, and then returned just last year with a couple mp3 singles, too.

That 1996 Athamay album though, features a fun tune called "Kiss the Whip," which then appeared a couple years later on a comp that was put out by Cleopatra Records called The Gothic Sounds of Nightbreed.

Now, I can't say for certain that people in the 80s actually found synth-laden goth stuff to be particularly spooky, but I'm guessing that if they did, by 1996 that spookiness had definitely worn off, and those who were still digging that dark, 80s synth sound at that point just found it more endearing, nostalgic, and fun than anything else. At least that's the vibe I get from a song like this one. A sound and scene that was once considered edgy had turned passé and inoffensive, but just because the shock had evaporated doesn't mean the music wasn't still good, especially if you can't get enough of an 80s synth sound, which is a sound that I, myself, happen to love.

So, with that said, despite the fact that I don't think that I'll ever be interested in doing BDSM anytime soon, I can still dig the shit out of a song like this. One reason is that the synth work and drum track are great as they really channel a classic, definitive 80s sound. But there's something about a spoken-word, deadpan female vocal that I love, too, and I think that's grounded in the idea of someone being so arrogant as to think that they're actually above the concept of singing. I guess there's, like, a rejection of tradition in that, too, like how a lot of punk vocalists purposely try not to sing like a trained professional. But with a vocal like J's, you can actually understand what she's saying 😅 .

I may not ever want to kiss or be kissed by the whip, but this mid-90s goth tune sure whips and is *chef's kiss* 😏.

#goth #gothic music #goth music #darkwave #music #electronic #electronic music #90s #90s music #90's #90's music #90s goth #90's goth #gothic #90s darkwave #90's darkwave #90s electronic #90's electronic #90s electronic music #90's electronic music

[moipale]

Heartbreaking: The Goth Kid You Hang Out With Just Rearranged Your Worldview

Written for Ectober Week 2020 Day One: Fog/Splatter, hosted by @lexosaurus, @ecto-american, and @babypop-phantom! Can be found here on AO3 and here on FFN!

“Do you ever think about how weird the ghosts are?”

It’s Spike who asks the question, and Valerie only doesn’t jump because she’s had months of practice pretending nothing phases her.

Spike—real name Sam Edmond, though no one calls him that—is an upperclassman, somewhere between goth and punk, and a complete outcast in the school. Since she’d been booted from the A-Listers, Valerie had taken to sitting with him at lunch for two reasons: he’s idiot repellant, and he doesn’t talk much. Perfect for a girl who wants to be able to stew in her own rage without being interrupted.

He’d started actually speaking to her a few weeks ago. It was mostly greetings here and there, or questions about when pep rallies or ghost attack drills were scheduled, but it had gradually grown into what might pass for full conversations. Valerie’s not exactly sure when that happened. It just sort of crept up on her, and now they’re… friends? More than just tablemates, at least.

“What do you mean?” Valerie asks, a little shortly. In her mind’s eye she sees Phantom, streaking across the night sky, away from her. She’d failed to catch him again last night. She bats the thought away, frustrated.

“I mean, they’re not like the stories, y’know?” Valerie makes a face, and he goes on. “They’re not manifesting in broken electronics or slamming doors or flickering lights. The ghosts from legends are subtle. Amity’s ghosts pretty fuckin’ aren’t.” As he talks, Spike doodles on a napkin. Stealing a glance at it, Valerie makes out Skulker’s distinct frame—and a very prominent bazooka. No, he… he is not very subtle.

“Does it matter?” Valerie asks, tiredly.

“I just wonder sometimes if they’re not something different.” Spike straightens out of his slouch, stretching before he slumps back over, half-laying on the table. “Something alive.”

She bristles. “They’re ghosts. They’re dead,” Valerie bites out, standing up. Her lunch is only half-eaten. “Everyone knows Ember is that girl who died in a housefire in the 80s.”

Spike doesn’t move, unaffected by Valerie’s aggression. “Sure, she died. But maybe she’s just different now.”

Valerie has gathered up her bag and moved to throw her lunch tray out when Spike speaks again. “You’ve noticed, haven’t you?” he says, almost quietly, but it cuts into her anyway. “That they bleed when they’re cut.”

She turns around and leaves.

 She shouldn’t put any stock into Spike’s words. He doesn’t know anything about ghosts; he hasn’t fought them, he’s not scientists like the Fentons are. Valerie has more authority on the subject than he’ll ever have.

That doesn’t stop what he said from creeping into her mind every time she tries to rest, though. It keeps bubbling up in the back of her thoughts, arresting her ponderings when she least expects it, infecting her mind like a slow-acting poison, growing more and more intense with each passing day. She doesn’t want to think about it, she can’t think about it, and yet still it haunts her.

Ha, haunts.

It’s not anything major that forces her to let the words come, to examine them. It’s not the ghost dog, or Phantom, or anything like that. Instead, it’s a bird.

Valerie has always loved birds. Her mom took care of a cockatiel named Butler when she was younger; it was a silly thing. Loud, too, but Valerie was a loud kid, and they were two peas in a pod. When Mom died, her grandma ended up taking Butler, since Dad was never much one for taking care of pets. She hasn’t seen Butler in a while. Grandma never did like Dad much.

The bird that’s decided to roost on the ledge outside their apartment window is decidedly not a cockatiel. It’s as big as Valerie’s arm, for one, and it’s that sickening ectoplasmic green that she’s become all too accustomed to. And the residents have started sending their landlord rather aggressive complaints, which their landlord then redirected to Dad, saying, “It’s your apartment, Gray. Get rid of the thing or get out.”

Funnily enough, what Spike had said is the furthest thing from her mind when she goes outside that night, at around 2 A.M. She doesn’t have her suit on; instead, she has an ectogun in her hand and a net strapped to her hip, just in case. The bird hasn’t made any moves to attack so far, and Valerie’s expecting to catch it by surprise.

It glows, as all ghosts do, so it’s not hard to spot it against the dark, looming façade of her apartment building.  It’s three floors up, well within the range of her gun, and Valerie would wager that it’s not a very strong ghost.

One shot will do it, she thinks.

Valerie raises her gun, both hands on it, steady as can be. She knows her way around weapons by now—knows the weight of a gun in her hand, a bowstaff, a bat. She knows the kickback. She’s an expert on her hoverboard, movement smooth and balance perfect. She’s far more powerful than this puny interloper.

Trained on that acid-green silhouette, Valerie lets out a breath. She lets her pulse slow. She listens to the low whistle of wind down her empty street, a far cry from the busy murmur of the suburbs where she used to live. She licks her lips, then blinks, just once.

Ectoguns don’t make a lot of noise when their triggers are pulled. There’s something different about the projectiles; something less physical than a bullet, that makes a whiny sort of pop instead of a sharp blast. Valerie’s never liked the sound that much. It feels less monumental to pull the trigger—like a toy, almost.

She pulls, and it pops, and the splatter of the ghost against the brick of the building echoes louder, farther, than her gun ever could. She’d brought one of the bigger ones, one with a little punch.

She didn’t expect the bird to explode on impact.

Valerie brings the gun back to her side and just looks for a minute. She looks for long enough to watch the spray of ectoplasm begin to drip, and a piece of—neck? head?—peel away from the wall, falling into the nest the bird had begun to build.

She can’t see any distinct guts or bones from here, but does that matter? In the dead of night, with a gun in her hand, does that matter?

She vomits against the side of the building before she goes back inside, Spike’s voice ringing like church bells in her mind, loud, so loud she can hear nothing else—

They bleed when they’re cut.

I wonder sometimes if they’re something different.

Something

alive.

#danny phantom #dp #dp fanfic #ectoberweek2020 #ectober #my fics

[lovespelt]

(Sorry if I’m accidentally spamming you, it doesn’t seem to be going through from my end)

Okay, so I have two ideas! PunkRock!Deku AU and Goth!Deku AU!!!

PunkRock!Deku: In this AU, everything’s the same, but Izuku and Bakugou stayed good friends/rivals just because they have the same taste in music. Out of everyone in their middle school class, they’re the only ones into Rock. Everyone else is more into Pop or Country. In UA, no one really thought that Bakugou and Izuku were close since their personalities are so different and they’re always in their separate friend groups. Sooner or later, someone in 1-A sees them on their way to a concert, acting like brothers and Izuku looks like Bakugou’s closest threw up on him.

Goth!Deku AU: In this AU, Izuku has a Shadow Controlling(?) Quirk. He is able to control the shadow of anything and anyone (and by extension, them), including is own (sorta like the Shadow Possession Jutsu in Naruto). Set back is his quirk won’t work on cloudy days. One day while he was analyzing his quirk, Izuku figured that he could have the element of surprise while fighting if he could blend into the shadows. (He was correct. And if you asked Katsuki, he’ll just throw explosions your way.) From that day forward, he has decided to wear nothing but black and other really dark colors. After years of wearing dark colors, he’s come to like them. By 3rd year of Middle School, his entire bedroom and wardrobe looked like a void of nothing. His personality is more like Yamikumo’s in this AU. Not that any of his classmates and teachers could tell. Izuku decides to keep his gothic lifestyle separate from school. Well, not really decide, more like he never has enough time to grab his choker or put on eyeliner in the morning. When 1-A moves into the dorms and they’re doing the room presentation, everyone except Bakugou is surprise. “It kinda looks like a combination of Tokoyami’s room with Bakugou’s personality...” “WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN, PINKY!?!?” And when they saw him in his street clothes, everyone flipped!

yessss these are two quality au’s, nonnie!

i love bakugou and izuku bonding over music (and i do feel like so many ppl into punk rock are rly sweet gentle ppl who just happen to love loud yelly music hehehe)

and omgggg i also love izuku as a sweet and unexpectedly super goth boy....i mean, in canon, he rly seems to love tokoyami’s aesthetic 👀👀 (also yr idea for his quirk is super cool!)

#also i only got this ask once #so i think it must not have gone through the other times nonnie! #lovespelt.asks #Anonymous

[newmusickarl]

Album & EP Recommendations

Album of the Week: Happier Than Ever by Billie Eilish

A woman who needs no introduction at this point, this week saw pop sensation Billie Eilish finally release her much-anticipated sophomore album, Happier Than Ever.

Now although I enjoyed her breakout debut When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go? I certainly wasn’t as enamoured with it to the extent that some people were, finding it to be impressive but just a tad overhyped. However, with this album the preceding singles had caught my intrigue, with Billie showing early signs of greater artistic maturity. Turns out they were a good indication, as this album sees Billie and producer brother Finneas really coming into their own.

If you’ve heard any Billie Eilish song, you’ll be aware by now that she’s not your typical popstar. Where her peers will max out on glossy production and consistently push their vocals to the limits, Billie typically takes a much more subtle approach. With her brother co-writing these songs and steering the ship as it were, Billie’s music never once becomes overburdened with unnecessary sonic elements across the 16 tracks here. Instead, everything is perfectly understated, ensuring that the moments where the pair do loosen the reigns a bit and go full throttle, they happen with even greater impact.

This is evidenced early on, as the album begins with Billie quietly entering into a one-sided conversation with the listener - catching them up on how she’s Getting Older, “aging well” and offering her current thoughts and feelings surrounding her growing fame. Suddenly out of nowhere, the sound of a dog growling fills the audio for the start of I Didn’t Change My Number and a defiant Billie begins to chime in on the attack. The beat continues drawing shades to a growl in the background, before exploding into a ravey bark for the euphoric instrumental outro.

It’s the perfect one-two combination to start the record and from there the pair continue to control the right balance between restraint and sharp moments of extravagance – be it Finneas working his magic in the studio or Billie letting her voice soar beyond her signature whisper. At times this is even achieved within a single track, such as the gloriously tribal electronic pulse of Oxytocin, which for me draws comparisons to Crystal Castles, offering one of the real high points of this record.

Speaking of high points there are many to choose from here, including bluesy break-up anthem Lost Cause, which sees Billie tear into her undoubtedly regretful ex-boyfriend with playful wit. Single Your Power then offers a different vibe altogether - a stunning, beautifully written ballad where Billie pleads with those holding powerful positions to reflect on the responsibility they have to others. However, it is arguably the title track itself that tops the lot here, beginning as a gentle acoustic number with a vulnerable Billie, before switching up sonically and thematically midway through, erupting into an incredible, soaring rock song in which Billie sings of having no regrets.

It’s an absolute triumph of a song and really an absolute triumph of an album. After having such a successful debut and building such a huge fanbase, the pressure was on Billie and Finneas to deliver big with this record. With Happier Than Ever they have achieved that, successfully showing how they have evolved as songwriters whilst also delivering one of the most accomplished and well-crafted pop records of the year thus far.

Listen to Happier Than Ever here

Animal by LUMP (Laura Marling & Mike Lindsay)

Elsewhere, acclaimed singer-songwriter Laura Marling and Mercury Prize-winning producer Mike Lindsay have teamed up once again for their second collaborative album.

Animal makes for an endlessly enchanting listen, with Lindsay’s array of electronics, guitars and classical instrumentation offering the perfect backdrop for Marling’s angelic, folky vocals. It somehow manages to feel both experimental and expertly moulded, with the sound this creative partnership has forged having a bewitching quality to it that will really put you under its spell.

From the sprinkling synth patterns and big bassline of opener Bloom At Night, the whirring wonderment of Gamma Ray, the twinkling of instrumental Hair On the Pillow to the epic, jazz-infused conclusion of Phantom Limb, this is a really fascinating record that is well worth your time.

Listen to Animal here

American Noir by Creeper

And finally on the Albums & EPs front, Southampton’s goth-rockers Creeper revealed their latest rock opera in the form of this typically theatrical 20-minute listen.

What’s more, they’ve managed to make it work as both a continuation of the story begun on recent album Sex, Death & The Infinite Void for the hardcore fans, as well as an engaging standalone release for those not familiar. From the soaring majesty of Midnight to the flamboyant glam-rock of Ghosts Over Calvary, through to the string-tinged closer Damned & Doomed, all in all this EP makes for a really fun listen.

Listen to American Noir here

Tracks of the Week

In Blur by Deafheaven

Onto the tracks front then this week and post-metal outfit Deafheaven continue to tease their potential Album of the Year contender with their sublime new sound. In Blur carries on in the same vein as the other recent singles, with clean vocals and more melodic guitar textures layering their dreamy shoegaze sound. Culminating in some really scintillating guitar work, anticipation for this one for me is now at a fever pitch.

Listen to In Blur here

Mimi by Big Red Machine feat. Ilsey

Another teaser from Aaron Dessner & Justin Vernon’s next Big Red Machine album also dropped this week, with singer-songwriter Ilsey Juber joining Vernon on lead vocal duties for this wonderful electric folk track.

Listen to Mimi here

Skate by Silk Sonic

Just when it looked like Anderson .Paak and Bruno Mars would never release more than one track under their Silk Sonic guise, they finally dropped their second single Skate this week, which delivers fun nostalgic vibes of 70s R&B and soul.

Listen to Skate here

Blue Heaven by Public Service Broadcasting feat. Andreya Casablanca

Coming off the back of People, Let’s Dance which is still one of my songs of the year thus far, musical historians Public Service Broadcasting team up with Gurr’s Andreya Casablanca for the second teaser from forthcoming album Bright Magic. Completely different to the first release, this one is a brilliant, guitar-driven slice of dreamy indie-pop. Another album I can’t wait to hear!

Listen to Blue Heaven here

PMA by All Time Low feat. Pale Waves

A rousing pop-punk collaboration about Post-Modern Anxiety, All Time Low and Pale Waves make for a match made in heaven on this hugely infectious tune.

Listen to PMA here

Enter Sandman by Weezer

And finally this week, the latest release from Metallica’s Blacklist project is a respectful cover of the classic Enter Sandman by rock legends Weezer. Great vocal performance by Rivers Cuomo on this one.

Listen to Weezer’s Enter Sandman cover here

#billie eilish #happier than ever #finneas #weezer #metallica #all time low #pale waves #public service broadcasting #bruno mars #anderson paak #silk sonic #deafheaven #creeper #big red machine #justin vernon #aaron dessner #new music #best new music #new music friday #album of the week #tracks of the week #songs of the week

[dapperappleton]

Sherlock Characters With a Goth/Punk S/O

Commissions open! I will write fics/scenarios for these if you want, just pop me an ask

Sherlock:

He’s mostly just indifferent

A lot of people are probably surprised by the difference between you two, but you really do match really well

He brings you along on as many cases as you’ll allow

He really loves how badass you look all the time even if you’re wearing more lolita or feminine type stuff, you just look so so cool

He will probably throw a smug compliment your way just to make you blush

Mycroft:

He’s a little uncomfortable with the inevitable attention you attract, but he loves you and will put up with it

If anyone says anything bad about you he will defend you

He likes buying you cool stuff like jewelry or patches or accessories

If he’s absolutely one hundred percent sure that no one will ever find out, you might be able to convince him to let you put some makeup on him or put an outfit on

He thinks you’re really brave for expressing yourself in such a way that you might be ridiculed for but you do it anyways, no everyone feels like they can

Jim:

Oh man, he loves loves loves it

He would buy you all sorts of stuff like full on outfits you would like, dope shoes, hair supplies, literally anything that you need to style yourself in such an awesome way

He definitely flaunts you around and brings you to some events, but don’t worry, he’ll make sure you’re safe if it’s business related

He definitely will stare at you while you do like literally anything and just sort of ramble about how much he loves your outfit or hair that day

Definitely listens to your music, with you or by himself

John:

Once or twice you might walk in on him trying some of your makeup himself

He’s not very good at it, but if you fix it up for him he will probably like it much more than he would have thought

He listens to goth/punk music if you introduce him to it, and he actually really likes it

He gets angry at anyone who stares at you weirdly, but he knows when he needs to step in to defend you

He might watch while you get ready and talk to you, he likes watching you do your makeup or hair (particularly if you ever do Liberty spikes or some particularly fancy thing)

He’s soft so he might act kinda shy around you since you just looks so darn cool and kickass

Molly:

You two looks so utterly amazing together, like cutest couple award goes to you

She compliments you all the time and will gift you makeup if that’s your thing

If more like when you meet Sherlock, Molly and would death stare him to make sure he didn’t say something rude about you. That has happened way too many times to her

Surprisingly Sherlock doesn’t say anything bad because he doesn’t have anything bad to say, but he still might deduce you aloud

Molly will be really proud of you all the time, she loves you so much

Greg:

If you ever visit him at work, be careful of Anderson and Donovan

Greg will definitely defend you and shout at them if they say too much, even if it’s behind your back. He won’t tolerate any of their rudeness about you.

He is also pretty indifferent, he doesn’t care what you dress like. He likes your personality.

He doesn’t seem like the type to actually like music that much at all, but will give your favourite band a try

He will also try and give you gifts like makeup if you wear it or cool accessories but is honestly really bad at figuring out what to get you. Just appreciate the thought.

#sherlock holmes #mycroft holmes #jim moriarty #john watson #molly hooper #greg lestrade #sherlock #bbc sherlock #mycroft #moriarty #lestrade #x reader #headcanons #fanfic #sherlock x reader #mycroft x reader #jim moriarty x reader #john watson x reader #molly hooper x reader #greg lestrade x reader

[we-rate-tmnt]

I request: Leonardo. Please and thank you 🙏.

Idk if everyone loves Leo or if my header and avatar just remind everyone about this amazing blue boy. (This one’s super silly btw. I’m just sillier as time goes on. Character development I guess?) 

The iconic leador Leonardo (1987)

Bro idk why but I loved this Leo. I have a tiny memory, especially with this version but I clearly remember that I thought he was the funniest and the coolest. I mean, he had swords, what was I supposed to do as a 7-year-old. NOT like him??? Anyway, while Raph was the best at insult comedy, I think Leo had the best puns and punchlines. I really like how nonchalant this Leo is compared to his iterations, going along with really silly ideas and having fun along the way. But because of this, his leadership is a little forced at times, he seems like such a chill and fun dude that when he gets serious, I have to squint and ask ‘are you Leo? Or were you just putting on act a moment ago?’ Or my perception is entirely warped over time. Either way, good turtle boy, could have used some work tho. 5.7/10

Here comes grumpy lad wooo this is all read very monotone btw Fearless Leader (2003)

What. What the fuck happened. I was actually so confused when Leo turned really angry and serious and almost manic. I thought that episode when he popped into Casey’s window and was like ‘Hey bitch lets go beat the shit out of some lowlifes’ I was WOAH THERE BUDDY BACK UP BACK UP BACK TF UP. It was so sudden to me and when it was finally explained, it made some sense??? Like yeah, character development is great an’ all but this ain’t it chief. I can’t imagine what it was like having to wait for these episodes to release one at a time. Bc I watched every episode back to back on Youtube and I was genuinely bamboozled. But when you have an experience like that where guilt is weighing down on you from a situation you couldn’t control, it would’ve been HELLA HELPFUL to have at least a flashback, like a line saying ‘I was so useless!’ at BARE MINIMUM. Like right after Shredder is booted off to Planet Zula, Donnie would notice that Leo didn’t seem all that happy and would ask why and Leo would get upset and yell at Donnie saying that ‘You wouldn’t understand’, ‘You don’t know how I felt, how I feel because of that’, etc. Like you don’t even have to say he felt guilty or helpless, just give us something to grab onto. We’re merely six-year-olds who thought they could climb the YMCA rock wall in easy mode but instead the script riders harnessed us up on the hard one and wouldn’t let us come down until we rang the little bell at the top. I think that is the only problem I had with his Leo. The sudden change of calm and decisive to angry and irrational was so jarring that it felt unnatural without that crucial context. If you want a surprise reveal, at least hint at the reveal (like just about every Disney movie with their ‘twist’ villains) not wait until the very last moment. I think this might be my least favorite Leo and I think the season where he stood out the most and seemed the strongest was Fast Forward (Which was GOOD FIGHT ME), especially in scenes with Dark Leo, his clone. He sees so much of himself in Dark Leo but he also sees something he had once grasped (AKA the poorly written character arc, I CANNOT stress how bad I thought it was). Although, I honestly think he’s a really good character and he’s a pretty neat guy. However, this score is entirely held up by Fast Forward and his connection with Usagi, sword bros to the end of time. 3/10 (2 for FF and 1 for Usagi)

And now a Leo that makes me genuinely feel UWU Leo (2012)

I cannot stress how much I like this guy! Like his design is so appealing, his dedication, his obsession with Space Heroes, like I FUCKING LOVE IT. And everyone knows, that shit with Karai, at first when they didn’t realize they were related, I can let slide but kajsdflksadf what even like why did the writers feel the need to add in more ‘love interest’ implications like yuck yuck yuck. The only two interactions with Leo and Karai that I really like are when Leo defeats her using the healing hands technique and when Leo has a goth/emo/punk/idk I’m new here phase and they team up and EXPLOSIONS. He was introduced to us as being incredibly naive and his idea of leadership is from some old cartoon that’s basically star trek but ethically questionable. After his fights in season 1, to the finale with the technodrome, you can see his growth. He’s able to formulate plans and make life or death decisions. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. When Leo got hurt, I felt like the oof sound effect mixed with some tears I normally shed at some Shojo manga bs. While the episodes following were super weird, it was a nice way to help Leo recover, not only physically but spiritually (Although I don’t remember the spirit arc at all except the epic Raph vs Fishface fight, so we’re skipping that). When Master Splinter really died, you could tell there was a huge impact on Leo, but he had to remain stoic and lead the family now. A lot of heartbreaking moments in this series came from Leo and I’m glad they took at least some thought into developing him. Tiny head Leo will haunt my nightmares, but the giggly fanboy will warm my heart constantly. 6/10

I only have one word for this Leo (Heroes in a Half Shell: Blast to the Past)

This is a super crazy bad idea accent on the super crazy bad part have I mentioned it’s also a really terrible idea/10

Okay, spoiler alert, didn’t really think this Leo was that grand Leo (2014/2016)

Painfully average. He didn’t stand out that much, Raph was part of the focus and had that touching scene at the end, Donnie was ICONIC and Mikey (with his weird-ass eyes) was super lively and funny! Leo? Uh, I don’t remember a single line he said. Because he never really grabbed my attention, I don’t have too much to say on this version. The Raph and Leo fight felt forced and the whole ‘keep this stuff that could turn us human a secret’ was pretty pointless and was added just to cause drama, I don’t even remember what that Splinter and Leo conversation was about. Design-wise, really neat! You can see some more traditional Japanese clothing/style mixed with modern (I’d feel a lot better about this assumption if some could tell exactly what the heck he’s wearing, but I get traditional Japan warrior vibes from it) in his look which was super neat! Other than that, if you like him, please tell me why because I don’t get. He was just kinda eh. 5/10

AHHH MY BOY YASSS WHOOO!! Neon Leon (2018)

Okay, I loved Ben Schwarts already from Parks and Rec but like him being Sonic AND Leo, like DUDE. He’s super funny by himself but teamed up with this shows writing and animation, it makes it hilarious. I literally love this Leo so much, maybe because we’re alike but honestly, he’s amazing. I love his design with the red and yellow crescents accenting his skin and livening up his color pallet. He has a very healthy and natural dynamic with his brothers, he’s the first to know what’s wrong and tries his best to make up for his actions. This is really prominent in the most recent episodes, along with the episode portal jacked. In both, Leo is separated from his brothers. Portal Jacked is in a more literal sense, while Air Turtle handles in more of an emotional sense. While both are brief, Leo sees his error and tries his best to make it up to them. I love his dynamic so much and it’s so nice to see something like this compared to the unnecessary drama and tension between the brothers in the previous series. It’s refreshing and this is something a younger audience needs to see; instead of fighting, it’s better to work together and improve yourself along the way. Improvement is a big theme for Leo here. He’s a goofball, makes jokes at every opportunity and isn’t quite skilled at fighting or using his weapon. But he grows over time, he learns to manage his power and he’s working on mastering it. He’s trying to put aside his narcissism more and focuses on his family. I think the approach they took with him rising to leader rather than slapping it on his forehead was the goddamn best decision they could make. He’s making plans, finding loopholes, helping out and getting out of his comfort zone. I cannot stress how well this show has handled Leo, along with the other characters. I can’t wait to see more episodes about his growth and I am awarding him with one of the greatest honors I could give... 10/10

Storytime: I drew a super cute 2012 Leo, you should look at him. Shameless self-promo, but you should follow me on my main blog bc I’m nice and I draw pretty pictures. Also. I have a little 2012 Leo Happy Meal toy??? I think??? guarding my window and he’s been there for YEARS. I need to bring him in and refresh his paint job.

Wow! I didn’t expect this many requests for Leo, so the blog will be momentarily spammed with the requests, but it shouldn’t be too much! Up next should be the last turtle (Mikey) and then we can get to some REALLY great requests I’m eager to answer. As usual, please comment and reblog! I’d love to hear your opinion!

#Tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #1987 leo #2003 leo #2012 leo #2014 leo #2016 leo #rottmnt leo #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #asks #I forgot how my tagging system worked

[copias-thrall]

Recognition

Suey makes a surprising discovery.

(Start at the beginning)

*light breath play*

It’s been happening for weeks.

A sudden feeling of eyes on you. Weird, little incidents that you can’t help but connect together in your mind—your own Baader-Meinhof phenomenon.

Browsing at the consignment shop, and you look up—having felt the weight of a stare—to see a gaggle of girls whispering behind their hands. When you catch eyes with them, they make a hasty retreat, giggling. You look down at yourself to make sure your boob isn’t hanging out, or that there’s no toilet paper stuck to your shoe—but everything seems in order.

At the MAC store (if you wanna upgrade Mary’s stock that’s nobody’s business but your own), when two baby goths seems to be intently watching what you put in your basket. You smile at them, but they just look down quickly, as if the floor holds the secret to non-cakey face powder.

Enjoying $5 beers and reading a book at your neighborhood bar when a group of emo dudes sends you a drink. And, ok—not to brag—that’s not the odd part. It’s the way they elbow each other until one of them comes over and asks if you’re expecting company. You eye him—and the expectant pack he came from—deadpaning that you don’t do gangbangs. He giggles nervously.

“So no one’s joining you?”

“NoPe.”

You have your speech all prepared when he just sighs and says That’s a sham, before heading back over to his group, which reluctantly leaves. Men, leaving when you say you’re by yourself. 

Weird.

It’s all enough to give a girl a complex. So, you try to convince yourself that people looking away when you look up and clearly talking about you surreptitiously, is all in your head. 

You’re having a pre-holiday lunch at the greasy punk diner with your friend Arry because she's not coming to the tree trimming, when the pieces start to fall into place. The two of you are embroiled in a dish session, when a lone girl approaches you. She’s maybe 19—growing out green hair and sporting a Monroe piercing—and she approaches you shyly.

“Excuse me,” she all but whispers.

“Yes?” you say, not unkindly.

She hesitates a little, her eyes darting to yours and then back to the floor, then asks, “You’re Mary’s girl, right? Mary Goore?”

Arry—who you have not told—raises her eyebrows at you and rests her chin in her hand, curious as to where this is going.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I am.”

The girl sort of rocks back and forth a little, sucking in one side of her cheek.

“I have a-a thing. He just. Always seems so intense? If I gave it to you … ?”

“A thing.”

“It’s-it’s nothing weird. Just a-a drawing.”

Arry is looking at you like, This makes sense to you?!

You smile big and try to send out I’m-not-going-to-eat-you vibes, which is a struggle since your default setting is mostly fuck-off-and-die.

“All right, let’s see then.”

The girl’s face snaps to look up at you, gauging your sincerity, before swinging her messenger bag around. She fumbles around in it, bringing out a sketchbook. You can see she’s shaking as she flips through it. She finally manages to get to the right page, and then she’s turning it out and around for you to see.

It’s a gorgeous caricature of Mary on stage in his corpse paint looking grave and holding his guitar out like a weapon. There’s a speech bubble that says, “u want sum fuk?”.

It’s hilarious.

When you don’t respond immediately—only because you’re so entranced—the girl starts sputtering.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s wonderful,” you say as you look up at her. “This is great—right up his alley.”

She brightens. “Really??”

“Really,” you agree.

“Th-thanks. So you’d … ?”

“Yes, I’d love to give this to him, if that’s what you want.”

She nods vigorously.

Luckily you have your computer and bag with you, so you gingerly place the drawing inside your closed laptop for safekeeping. The girl is looking at you as if you’d hung the moon.

“Do you have an insta?” you ask.

“Oh! Yeah, it’s …” She leans down and writes her handle on a napkin.

You take it, smiling warmly at her, and are surprised when she leans down for a side hug, before quickly scampering off. Arry is giving you A Look.

“What. The Absolute Fuck. Was that about?”

You blush. It’s not that you’ve been hiding Mary … it’s just that it’s so new, even if doing the math in your head tells you otherwise. You give her a little shrug.

Arry glares at you. “Ok, fine. I was giving you a chance. But if you’re not going to come clean …” She pulls out her phone, tapping and scrolling through it before sliding it over to you. “Explain .”

Picking up the phone you see a grainy picture of you at Regency sitting on Mary’s lap. Your head snaps up.

“Where did you—”

“Oh, keep scrolling.”

You do, and you find several more from that night, some really unflattering zooms with redeye from other bars, and the selfie Roxie took—in which you and Mary are pale and glowering and Roxie still looks high.

“Where did you get these ?” you hiss, clenching the phone.

When Arry holds out her hand, you reluctantly hand it back over.

“One of my friends sent that last one to me—that’s from Roxie Hearts’ instagram, by the way. She’s a pretty well-known—”

“Yes, I know.” You put your head in your hands.

“She’s since deleted it, by the way. But, Otis sent it to me asking if this wasn’t you. I kind of fell down a rabbit hole of hashtags from there. So. Explain.”

“Um,” you say and you trace patterns with your finger on the table, “you remember Bathroom Guy?”

“This is the guy who fucked you in a bathroom?!”

You grimace at your friend.

“Yeah?”

Your friend slaps the table and shakes her hands at you.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME YOU’RE DATING BATHROOM GUY ?!”

“It’s only been like 6 months or something,” you mutter.

She throws a french fry at you.

“Six months !”

“Dating is like pregnancy ! You can’t announce it too soon! It might not take!”

“That’s only for like, three months, you cow. You’re fucking impossible. Only you would think 6 months is nothing! DETAILS .”

“I just,” you stammer, “I don’t know! He put his number in my phone and I just. Kept calling him up. For sex. I have needs you know!”

“Oh yes. We’re all very clear on what a fucking nympho you are. But how do you go from booty calls to random teens giving you fan art of your boyfriend who’s in a band.”

You put your head in your hands and moan.

“I don’t know! Here I am thinking of him as This Guy who just randomly shows up to fuck, to complain about everything, and to watch my cable when he’s not working—and it turns out that’s dating. Ta-da!”

You give her jazz hands.

She scrunches her face at you.

“Tell me you’re not in one of those situations you get yourself into.”

“What situations?”

“Ok, look. Don’t get offended—”

“Arr—”

“No: listen, hun—sometimes you date guys just because it’s like you don’t know what else to do. Don’t give me that look, you know you do. They're clearly into you, and you just seem indifferent most of the time.”

You shrug. “Well, Mary isn’t like that.”

“Which is why you haven’t fucking told anyone?” She raises her eyebrow.

You start shredding your napkin. “I guess maybe I keep waiting for him to realize I’m not the cool girl he thinks I am? How embarrassing would that be if I told people and then he dumped me? He knows all kinds of … people.”

“Oh, hon,” she says as she puts her hand on yours. “You’re amazing. That’s what he sees.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe,” you say, and you quickly take back your hand.

There’s a beat, and then Arry asks, “Do you have any pictures of him?” 

“Seems like you have plenty,” you huff.

“Yeah, all grainy. C’mon! Don’t hold out on me!”

Begrudgingly, you fish out your phone and pull up the G-rated album—which you created after Krissy almost swiped too far in your camera roll—and hand it over to Arry. She takes it greedily and starts zooming and swiping.

“Huh,” she says, her face twisting in … concentration? “Don’t I know this guy?”

“You literally just said you stalked him on insta.”

“No, from somewhere else.” She waves her hand at you. “Whatever.” Arry keeps scrolling. “Well, he looks … happy.”

You frown. “You don’t like him.”

She hands the phone back to you. “I don’t know him. I just think the makeup is weird.” She leans in. “Does he take it off? Have you seen his real face?!”

You scrunch your face at her. “Of course he takes it off.” You toss your hair haughtily. “You think I’m going to let him eat me out like that? Like I need another UTI in my life.”

Arry bursts out laughing. “You did seem to get a disproportionate amount.”

Shrugging, you say, “Spermicide, who knew?”

“Yeah, sure. That’s why.”

You throw a fry back at her. “Bitch.”

She sticks her tongue out at you.

“Anyway . No, he usually doesn’t wear it when we’re just hanging out.”

“So you don’t hang out a lot?”

You squint at her. “Why would you say that?”

“None of those pictures show his face!”

“They don’t?” you ask as you open your phone to scroll through again. She’s right, so you pop back to your camera roll. “Oh. Well,” you look up at her, “those ones are … private.”

“Sexy pictures aren’t supposed to have faces!”

While there are X-rated pictures of the 2 of you sans faces on your roll, the ones that you’re talking about are not those. One is you in bed wearing Mary’s tee with him asleep and drooling on your chest; another is him at your cafe table focused on his guitar; still another is him at your feet, staring up at you. 

So—not X-rated but definitely private.

“Yeah, well—it doesn’t need to be sexy to be private.” You lock your phone and shove it back in your bag.

Arry is staring at you.

“What?”

“You like him.”

“Of course I like him. I’m dating him, aren’t I?”

She gives you a knowing smile, and you roll your eyes in response.

“SoOo … when do I get to meet him?”

You groan again.

You’ve basically just gotten home yourself—and are in the process of shucking off your stockings to soak—when Mary bangs into your place with his usual finesse. You’re surprised because Fridays are his big money-making day at the bar, especially now that it’s the holidays. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you wander out of your bathroom.

Mary makes a face at you as he throws down his stuff. “Well, hello to you too.”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean—you’re supposed to be working.”

He takes in your outside clothes. “Oh … were you … going out?”

“Just got in, actually. Saw a friend for lunch.”

Mary continues taking off his shoes. “Ah. Well, I switched.”

“Switched for what? You’re already working tomorrow night.”

“What are you? My day planner now?”

You bristle. “Christ, Mare. Is it a crime to know when you’re going to be unavailable. What? I should just sit here waiting for you whenever just in case ?”

“Fuck—calm down, all right? I asked for the night off, ok?.”

“You’re blowing off work?” you ask as you squint at him. “Why would you do that? I thought you were counting on the tips?”

“See, this is why I told you I switched. I’m not ‘blowing off work’—I asked Mickey last week if there were any days he could spare me, and he called to let me know I could take tonight off if I wanted.”

You shift uneasily.

“But why would you do that?”

“Uh … to spend time with you?”

“But, I’m not … I didn’t ask you to do that. I don’t want to be why you can’t make rent. I could’ve waited til before I left on Monday to see you.”

Mary just sighs and flops down on your couch, pulling the balled-up afghan over his lap.

“Suey, I’m not as broke as all that. It’s tight—sure—but. Life is more than just watching it pass you by while you feed into the capitalist grind, you know? Is it so out there that I want to see my girlfriend without either of us having to fuck off afterwards?”

He looks over at you. You crawl onto the couch after him, squeezing yourself behind him so you can massage his shoulders. Mary melts into your touch.

“Of course I want to see you, but I don’t want to be why you can’t concentrate on your band, especially since you guys have such a full schedule til the end of the year. I know how important that is.”

He tilts his head to kiss your hand.

“Even if that’s why I can’t see you as much as I’d like?”

“Clingy dudes are such a turn off,” you say as in mock affectation. “I like my independence.”

Mary snorts.

You work his neck and shoulders in silence for a while before he catches up one of your hands to kiss the knuckles.

“One day I’ll give you everything.”

Your gut does something complicated, so you pull your hand back to rest on his shoulder.

“That’s a nice sentiment, Mary, but I won’t hold you to it.”

Mary sighs with his whole body.

“I wish you would.”

The two of you stay like that for a while—with you encircling him from behind and his head back leaned back on you.

“So …” you say. “Apparently we’re all over the internet.”

He twists a little to face you.

“What do you mean?”

You scramble off the couch to grab your phone from your bag, and present the pictures now in it to Mary. He scrolls through, his face indecipherable. 

“These are all …?”

“On Instagram, yeah.”

When he gets to Roxie’s selfie, he exhales heavily, resting his forehead on the phone.

“I’ll tell her to delete this.”

“It’s apparently already gone.”

He rolls his head back toward you.

“I’m sorry.”

You squint at him. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t think sometimes.”

You smirk at him. “I’m not going to refute that.”

He makes a tetch noise at you.

“I didn’t think what, uh, showing you off would mean. For you.”

You crawl into his lap. “I mean, it’s a little weird. I’m no one.”

Mary chucks you under the hey. “Hey. You’re someone. To me.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “You know what I mean, Mare.”

“Well, I’m sorry you’re all over Instagram, but I’m not sorry people think you’re someone.”

He’s giving you his soft eyes, and you suddenly remember the fan art. You let out an Oh before climbing off his lap. Mary seems a little put off, but you can tell his curiosity is piqued when you extract the sheet of paper stock from your laptop.

“ A fan of yours gave this to me to give to you.”

Mary looks pained.

“It’s amazing,” you say as you hold out the paper. He takes it gingerly, and you make yourself comfortable once more on your couch. He’s staring at the page, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

“You should feature it on the band’s insta and @ her.”

He looks at you. “The band has an instagram?”

“You’re fucking useless, you know that? Yes, your band has an insta. It’s awful, by the way—who takes your pictures? A dog with a GoPro?”

“Uh ….”

“Useless. Anyway, I’m telling you—post it and tag her.”

He carefully sets the picture on your coffee table.

“I’d rather tag you,” he says as he noses into your neck. Your tilt your head to give him access, and you feel his lips press into the juncture of your neck—

—and then he blows a raspberry into your skin.

You shriek and try to pull away, but he grips you tightly against him as he continues to misuse your neckline. You’re twisting in his grasp, laughing and trying to push him away. He snuffles into your skin, growling and wetly licking at you. You finally manage to get your hands under his shirt, and you wiggle your fingers into his side, causing him to yelp and jerk away.

“That’s cheating!” he says as he fights to keep your menacing hands away from his body.

“All’s fair in love and war, asshole.”

You lunge for him, and he catches up your wrists in his strong grip. He pulls you into him, practically touching his nose to yours. Hooded eyes dart around your face he says,

“Oh yeah? Which one’s this?”

He’s looking at you intensely, his grip relaxing slightly, and that’s when you lean in and bite down hard on his bottom lip. He makes an aggrieved noise as he flinches away, and you use the opening to push him down and dig your hands into his sides again. He’s flailing and cursing at you, so you climb on top of him and fight to get his arms pinned under your legs.

“Hah! I’m queen of the hill, motherfucker. Victory is mine!”

Mary’s face is flushed under his day makeup, and the laughter tears have worn trails down his temples. He’s making Grumpy Skeleton face at you.

“You play dirty, Suey.”

You lean down, hands trailing teasingly over his sides as he tries and fails to jerk away from your touch.

“I play to win. And I demand my spoils.”

“Oh? And what do you think you’ve won?”

“A favor—a kiss. On the lips.”

He quirks his eyebrow at you. “Just a kiss?” His hips shift and buck under you, his erection obvious against you.

You nod. “Just a kiss.”

“Ok, Queen Bitch. You may steal a kiss from your prisoner.”

Smiling wickedly, you hike up your skirt and knee up his torso. His eyes open wide, but his pupils are fully dilated. You cast about for—ah!—a napkin on the coffee table from … whenever … and wipe some of the makeup off his face. He grumbles at you, but allows it. 

Once you’re satisfied, you toss the napkin in the general area of your trash can, then you knee up further. When you’re kneeling over his mouth, you reach between your legs and shift the crotch of your polka-dot panties out of the way.

“Kiss it.”

His hands reach up to grip at your thighs; he licks his own lips, then presses a chaste kiss to the ones of your cunt before looking up at you for approval. You pet down his head, the fake blood from his hair flaking off onto your hand and the couch.

“Mmm. That's a good start, but you should show me your technique—use a little tongue.”

Mary closes his eyes again, and his tongue flicks out to trace the seam of your folds. He does this a few times, you letting out pleased sighs, before slowly wiggling the tip in between them. At the first exploratory flick on your clit, you moan and grip his stiff hair. He slithers his tongue up and down through your slit slowly, dipping into your hole before licking at your nub.

“It’s ok to get sloppy!” you gasp as you rock against his chin. “I don’t mind a little spit.”

His grip on your thighs tightens as his mouth presses into you, his tongue now lapping in an ever-increasing rhythm as you gasp and work your hips against his rhythm. Mary shifts his long legs so that they’re bent at the knees, and you lean back into them. 

“So good. Fuck … yeah. Put a finger in me!” you moan.

He manages to work a hand under you, his finger slipping in easily because of your wetness, and he presses into the spots you like. You’re trembling with the effort of holding yourself up, and you’re swallowing hard when you remember you have to breathe. Mary redoubles his efforts, his tongue speeding up as he swirls around your clit and his finger beginning to fuck in and out of you.

“Oh god, oh fuck, oh god,” you chant as you feel your pussy begin to pulsate and tighten. Mary presses the tip of his into your nub, and you can feel the sweetness of your orgasm pool, ready to break. You tense, back bowed, about to cum—and Mary, eyes now firmly fixed on you, sets his tongue flying on your engorged clit. You let out ridiculous moans—worthy of a bad porn star—as you climax and your pussy pops, your knees pressing hard into either side of his head. Mary doesn’t stop the massage of his tongue until you lean all your weight into the wall of his thighs behind you.

“Is my Queen Bitch pleased with her favor?” he asks wryly as he wipes his face with the collar of his shirt. You purr out an Mmm, content to just lounge against his knees. He—however—sits up, rearranging the two of you so that you’re straddling his lap.

“If I may be so bold?” he says as he gives a few experimental ruts against you.

“Lay on,” you say lazily, and make a “proceed” motion with your hand.

Mary’s eagerness is palpable as he struggles to get his dick out of his jeans without bucking you off him. You smile at him smugly as you refuse to help with his efforts at all. He makes a few annoyed sounds at you, but is ultimately successful with freeing his cock—your clit giving a throb of interest when you get an eyeful at how hard and flushed it is.

“C’mon,” he whines as he rubs it against you. “You gotta help out.”

Sighing as if you’re so put out, you lift up enough for him to rub his cockhead through your slit a few times—a grunt of approval escaping from his lips—before he gets the tip inside you. You slide down him—the both of you moaning as he enters you fully—and then he hooks his hands over your shoulders for the leverage to pound up into you.

You try to ride him, but his thrusts are too insistent for you to keep up, so instead you grind your clit down into the curls of his pubic hair. He’s been rubbing his face back and forth over your collarbone, but suddenly he tilts his head back and slows his fucks.

“Oh fuck, oh shit. Wanna feel your tits.” He tugs at your blouse. “Take this off before I rip it off you.”

You roll your eyes, but begin to fumble with your buttons as he yanks his band tee over his head. He almost does rip off your cami when he sees you have another layer to contend with, but ultimately you shimmy out of it without incident. When your breasts land heavy against your ribs, he’s quick to lean down and suck one into his mouth. He rocks into you now without rhythm as he sucks and licks at your tits, more interested in the weight and fullness of them in his mouth than nipple play. 

While he plays with them, you reach your hand down to play with your clit as you rock your hips. You lose yourself in the feeling of Mary filling and sucking on you as you bring yourself closer to a second orgasm. He doesn’t seem to notice how close you are, so he’s surprised when you suddenly jerk away moaning and start clenching around his dick.

“You sneak!” he gasps out as your climax rhythmically squeezes him. He snarls at you as he once again grips you to him and starts to fuck up into you without mercy. Your tits are now squashed into his chest, and you moan—still a raw nerve from your orgasm—at the feeling of your hard nipples rubbing against him.

Mary’s forehead presses against your breastbone, and he’s making little noises of distress at his need to cum like 5 minutes ago. The angle isn’t quite right for him to get as much thrust as he wants, and he’s trying to make up for it in frequency—but that’s just tiring him out.

You start squeezing your muscles around him—him moaning each time—and you lean down to whisper praise into his ear as you wrap a hand around his throat.

“You’re doing so well. That’s my good boy. You’ve pleased me so much. Such a very good boy for me.”

You squeeze a little harder.

A few more shuddering thrusts, and he finally stiffens, breathing muffled cries of release into your chest as his climax washes over him. He’s panting, and you feel the throb of his cock as he spills into you.

“There you go. So good, Mary. So good.”

You stay like that until he recovers his senses and tilts his head to blink up owlishly at you.

“Fuck,” he says, and you grin, leaning down to peck his lips.

He flops down onto his back, and you gingerly—legs protesting the whole time—climb off him to wobble unsteadily on the floor. He looks over at you.

“No. Rest,” he says reaching an arm out to you. You take it, but use it to pull him up, which just results in him sliding off onto the floor. “Ugh, why,” he whines as you laugh at his tangle of limbs and soft dick flopping about.

“C’mon. Let’s take a shower and wash all the gross off before we fall asleep like old people. I don’t think my couch cushions can be flipped again.”

Mary groans, but starts the process of getting up off the floor.

“I’m really am gonna get you a plastic cover.”

“That’s a terrible idea. We’d slip right off!”

He grins at you. “Only if we were wearing clothes.”

The two of you are waiting for the Chinese food you ordered, bundled up in the afghan against the creeping chill while Mary flips through your channels and you idly go through Mary’s ancient camera. All the images seem to fall under 1 of 3 categories: dead/decaying things; run down buildings; & injuries … but there are a handful of sporadic pictures of just you—mundane things like you touching your nose to remember something, or asleep on the couch, and one of you frowning at the subway wait time. Thinking of your own “matching set”—so to speak—you look up at Mary; his hair is soft and flat, his face scrubbed clean. You lean in to swipe at Mary’s bare cheek, and his eyes sweep over to you.

“What? Did I not get it all?”

“No, you did—it’s just. I like this Mary. Like, Mean Skeleton Mary is hot, but this one is just for me.”

Mary grins wide, and you smile back—but then he laughs into your face, and you flinch away.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he gasps around his giggles.

“Ok, fuck you,” you say as you pull away from him and curl into yourself, crossing your arms.

“No! No no no!” he wheezes as he reaches for you. “C’mere, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you gripe as you squirm ineffectually to get out of his grasp. You fume in his embrace as he continues to chuckle. 

“You’re a dick, Mary Goore.”

“I’m sorry, Suey,” he says as he swipes at his eyes. “It’s just—that’s the single most ‘mushy’ thing you’ve ever said to me that was legit. Is there a heart in there after all?”

Grumbling, you push at him with your feet to keep him away. “Don’t get used to it. It only beats occasionally.”

Still laughing, he swipes his camera from you, turning it to get you in its frame.

“I want to document this moment, so I have it for the record that your heart beat once.”

You make a mean lemon face at and give the middle finger to him as he snaps a few pictures of you.

“The day Suey’s heart grew 3 sizes.” 

“I hope you know we’re in a fight right now.”

“Yeah, I know. Worth it, though.”

Later, when you’re prone and regretting all the noodles you’ve just consumed—and after you rubbed your food baby on Mary and demanded child support ( “How can it be mine? Look how big it is already! No dice, momma.”)—you watch as Mary picks up the fan art off the table to examine again.

“It is good,” he says. You murmur wordlessly in agreement. “But I’m still sorry you’re out there now.”

You wave it off. “It’s fine now that I know. It was just weird at first—like I had to keep constantly checking that my skirt wasn’t tucked into my tights or something. Now, I keep thinking about how I can’t just go out in my pjs anymore. Full makeup and full outfit for me, even if it’s just to the corner store!”

Mary snorts. “Why do you think I just started going everywhere as ‘Mean Skeleton Mary’?”

“I just assumed it was because you’re a pretentious fuckhead.”

“You’re a bitch.”

He jostles you meanly on purpose, and you grunt as your food sloshes uncomfortably in your stomach.

“I will vomit on you.”

He grins. “Neat.”

“Ugh—gross , Mary.”

⬅️Previous | Next ➡️

#haha posted this to drafts instead of my queue #mary goore #ofc #feral cats fic #gutter punk #gritty girls #my writing #original post #original content

[a-monsters-love]

I FEEL LIKE I’M IN A FUCKING FAN FICTION RN

Aiight y’all let me explain:

I work in a vape/head shop, if you don’t know what that is look it up. My shop specifically gets a lot of paramedics, office worker, nurses, fire fighters, etc.

So, I’m closing with my associate who I’m good friends with; we’re both college student, both nerds, both ex-scene/goth kids, both SIMP for ‘old’ K-pop groups, and I have playlist playing a mix of punk pop and Korean rap/pop.

I had just finished cleaning counters and glass panels and chose to take off my (Very Thicc) glasses to clean them. As luck would have it a song by Block B came on and we both know the dance, so you’ve got 2 unwittingly athletic females behind the bar in full choreography.

We are super into it when my phone goes off, my text tone is that scream R2D2 makes when shit goes sideways. That noise blasts across the speakers and I’m like ‘Oh snap, who’s texting me?’ put on my glasses and see a V-Cute™️ Paramedic dude (boy is a fucking ADONIS) silently losing his marbles over the scene before him and I squeak, almost throw my phone and drop to my knees behind the counter/out of sight. I am TOMATO RED and apparently this was the icing on the cake for Cute Paramedic because he busted at the seams with laughter.

Now this would be dandy however:

THIS IS NOT THE FIRST TIME I’VE DONE THIS IN FRONT OF SAID CUTE PRAMEDIC.

THIS MAN HAS SEEN ME SINGING TO SHITTY MUSIC

THIS MAN HAS SEEN ME EAT SHIT TRYING TO DO SOMETHING CAUSE I’M CLUSMY AF

THIS FUCKING MAN HAS SAVED MY ASS FROM EATING SHIT

My fucking coworker is in shambles, this is the first time she’s been caught by a customer so I have to help him. My fucking face is red through this entire process, I can’t bring myself to make eye contact with the dude. I ask him if he wants a receipt, he says ‘Please’ and I’m like tight take this, leave and let me throw myself off a building.

But no this boi had another idea, this man fucking takes his sweet time collecting his things. Placing all his stuff in his pockets and at some point managed to scribble his number on the receipt and hand it back to me.

Now if I thought I was red before I might as well have been bleeding through my cheeks cause I just stared at him and dropped like a stone as he left WAY TOO CASUALLY realizing what just happened.

I don’t know what to do with my life at this point. Like my life has become a writing prompt.

Can someone write me a BNHA fan fic with this because I’m a mess rn, I need an Aizawa or Shinso in my life 😭 I don’t want this to be real.

#is this flirting? #fml #im so embarrassed #mil rants #writing prompt #fanfic #fan fiction #bnha fan fic #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #mha fan fic #shinso #aizawa #sos

[vgckwb]

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 8: Mission Prep

When Ren woke up, she felt Morgana cuddled up near the foot of her bed. She smiled. She liked the reminder that someone was there for her. She got out of bed and got dressed for school before Morgana woke up. She decided to wake him up. “Morning sleepyhead.”

“Ugh” Morgana groaned. “Morning.”

Ren smiled. “Get up. We’re going to school.”

“Oh. OK” Morgana said, half asleep. “Wait, WE?!” he said, waking up.

“Mm-hm” Ren said. “You heard Sojiro. This a restaurant. You can’t be hanging around here all day.”

Morgana seemed displeased. “I could walk around and stuff…”

“I guess” Ren said, sitting down next to him. “But I’d rather you be close by just in case.”

“Hm. Very well” Morgana said.

“Alright, in you go kitty” Ren said, opening her bag.

Morgana gave her an uneasy look. “Do you need to call me a cat?”

Ren looked surprised. “I thought that by affirming your status it might make things easier for you.”

“You mean the more you call me a cat, the more I’ll get used to it?” Morgana asked.

“Well, if most people are going to see you as a cat anyway, it would be beneficial to get used to it,” Ren said. “Plus, you told me you don’t mind it.”

“Well, I appreciate the thought,” Morgan said, “but I’m not sure if I quite like it yet.”

“Fair enough,” Ren said. “Well, hop in anyway. I don’t want to be late.” Morgana hopped in Ren’s bag, and the two set off for school.

At school, Morgana hid in Ren’s desk. Morgana helped Ren out on occasion, but Ren was knowledgeable for her age.

In the afternoon, Ren got a group chat message from Ryuji.

Ryuji: Hey, so I uh can’t take you to that weapon place today.

Ryuji: My mom needs me to go shopping today.

Ryuji: Does tomorrow work for everyone?

Ann: Sorry, I have a photoshoot tomorrow.

Ren: You do photos?

Ryuji: You didn’t know?

Ryuji: She’s a model.

Ann: Well, part-time…

Ann: And it’s not really something that comes up too much.

Ann: In case you forgot, something happened that would have put sharing that information on the backburner.

Ryuji: Right.

Ann: Why don’t just you and Ren go to the weapon place tomorrow?

Ann: It’ll give the two of you a chance to get closer!

Ren: Are you sure?

Ann: Of course!

Ryuji: Alright then. It’s settled. Meet me at Shibuya Station tomorrow Ren.

Ren: Got it.

Ren: I think I have a lead on some medicine.

Ren: I can handle it.

Ryuji: Alright. I’ll leave it up to you then.

Ryuji: Later.

Ren put away her phone and went back to paying attention in class.

Once school was done for the day, she traveled back to Yongen-Jaya. She asked about the doctor to the street dwellers and found that the doctor was close by. Dr. Tae Takemi ran a clinic here in Yongen.

She also heard a few off-hand rumors about her. She apparently has some strangely strong medicine, but she’s also a bit dangerous. Ren didn’t let that bother her too much. After all, she knew a thing or two about being unfairly labeled. Maybe they were just exaggerating.

Ren made her way to the clinic and walked in. Sure enough, she was there, although in a doctor’s coat rather than her full punk-goth getup. “Hello,” Ren said.

Dr. Takemi looked up. “Hm? Oh, you’re that girl from before. What brings you here?”

“Um, I need medicine,” Ren said.

“Medicine huh? What for?” Takemi asked.

“Well…” Ren was panicking. However, she thought she could use that to her advantage. “I’m exhausted.”

“Exhausted?” Takemi said.

“Yeah. I’m constantly worried about entrance exams. Not to mention all of my social anxieties” Ren continued.

“Really?” Takemi said, not quite believing her. “You seem fairly outgoing.”

Ren smiled. “Well, I guess I can be.” She paused. “But there are some things that I’m worried people will find out about me.”

Takemi smiled. “Say no more. Follow me.” Ren met up with her in the office. “So, based on what you said, I think some painkillers might do the trick. Is that alright with you?”

“Well, you’re the doctor,” Ren said.

Takemi smiled mischievously. “If that’s the case, maybe some sleeping pills might be better.”

“Hey” Morgana said from Ren’s bag. “That won’t work in the metaverse.”

“You think she’s on to me?” Ren whispered.

“Well, you can’t be a doctor if you’re not smart,” Morgana said. “Dang it.”

Takemi giggled. “Do you need some metal help as well?”

“Huh?” Ren said.

“You’re talking to your bag,” Takemi pointed out.

“Oh, uh, well…” Ren said nervously.

“It’s fine,” Takemi said. “You seem to be under a lot of pressure. Both here and at the cafe. You seem like a good kid though. I’ll get you whatever you want.”

Ren was relieved. “Thank you doctor.”

“For the right price, of course” Takemi stated seriously. “I do have to keep this place afloat after all.”

“Right. For your other patients” Ren pointed out.

Takemi was surprised then giggled. “I like you. Feel free to stop by when you need something. I’ll be here for you.”

Ren nodded. “Thank you.” She made her purchases and left the office.

While still in the clinic, she saw an aggressive man barge in. “Out of the way kid” he said, pushing her to the side. He barged into Takemi’s office.

“How may I help you?” Takemi said.

“Cut the crap. You know why I’m here” the man said.

“I’m a doctor, not a psychic,” Takemi said. “Although, if you’re looking for something like that, I’ve heard good things about a fortune teller in Shinjuku.”

“Obstinate as ever” the man said. “You should have known that any rumors about you creating special medicine would get back to me eventually.”

“Oh my. You’re keeping tabs on me?” Takemi said. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a crush on me.” Ren heard the man growl. “However, I’m not one for these grade-school antics. I much prefer a more mature approach.”

“Laugh all you want for now!” the man yelled. “But if these rumors keep persisting, I’ll make sure you won’t have a license anymore!”

There was a silence. “Is that all?” Takemi said. Ren noted the change in her tone.

“Yes,” the man said.

“Then I’ll ask you to leave,” Takemi said.

“Hm” the man pouted. He left, passing Ren by rudely again. Ren followed him out

On the streets of Yongen, Morgana popped out and asked “Did you hear that?”

“Which part?” Ren said.

“Apparently Dr. Takemi is working on some special medicine. That could be more helpful than the stuff we bought.”

Ren smiled. “You’re always focused on the job, aren’t you?”

“Well, what did you take from that conversation?” Morgana asked.

Ren looked serious. “I was thinking of trying to help Dr. Takemi out with that guy.”

Morgana got serious as well. “I know how you feel, but what can we do?”

“Well, I was thinking,” Ren suggested, “what if that guy had a palace?”

“Hm” Morgana smiled. “Always willing to help others. However, let’s pump the breaks on that for now. We don’t know if you can take on one palace yet. Taking on another might be too much. Besides, Takemi seems like she can handle herself for a bit.”

Ren seemed frustrated. “Look,” Morgana said. “I know. And I promise, we will help her. But if you keep taking these tasks, you might break. Then you can’t help anyone.”

Ren smiled. “You’re right Morgana.”

“Of course I am,” Morgana said. “Besides, I have an idea as to what to do about him But we should focus on the Kamoshida thing first.”

Ren nodded. “We should head back. It’s getting kind of late.” The two returned to Leblanc and spent the rest of the evening doing some studying.

The next day, Ren met up with Ryuji at Shibuya Station. “Hey” said Ryuji.

“Hello,” Ren said.

“So, the shop we’re heading to is in an offshoot of Central Street,” Ryuji explained. “Since you’re new around here, just follow my lead, OK?”

“Got it,” Ren said. Ryuji began walking. Ren followed.

Ryuji was fidgety. “So,um, you wanna go grab something to eat afterwards?” Ren looked at him curiously. “It’s just, we don’t really know each other that well, and yet fate has tied us up in this Persona business. I figured we should at least learn about each other.”

Ren smiled. “I like that idea.”

Ryuji was shocked. “O-OK. Cool. I, um, know a-a pretty good ramen place we can go to. If that’s alright with you.”

“Ramen sounds great,” Ren said.

“Cool. Cool” Ryuji said.

Ren couldn’t help but giggle. “Why are you so nervous?” she asked.

Ryuji’s face turned red. “Well, it’s b-because…”

“You know this isn’t a date, right?” Ren added.

“Oh. R-r-ight” Ryuji said. “So, um…”

“And nothing you say will make it one” Ren said.

“Figures” Ryuji said in resignation.

“Hm-hm” Ren chuckled. “It was a decent effort on your part, but like I told Mishima, I’m probably not the right girl for you.”

“You turned down Mishima too, eh?” Ryuji said. “Well, I guess I’ll have some solidarity.

As they passed through Station Square, the pair heard a street orator speaking to a disinterested public. “People of Tokyo! Please, listen to what I have to say! These mental shutdown occurrences are continuing. Yet the government is in disarray! The government should be working for the people! Yet they do nothing! I vow to you that I will work hard for all of you!”

Ren was curious about this man. His speeches were passionate, and he had an aura of truth about him. Like he believed what he really said. However, she also noticed that she was the person paying attention to his speech the most.

Ryuji looked back to see Ren stopped. “Hm?” He looked at the politician. He walked back over to Ren. “Don’t tell me you’re into older dudes.”

Ren couldn’t help but laugh. “No. No. Sorry. No.” Ren took some time to regain her composure. “Sorry. I was just interested in what he was saying is all.”

“A politician, eh?” Ryuji said. “Well, it’s not like it matters too much, since we can't vote anyway,” He said, continuing to walk.

Ren began following him again. “I know we can’t vote, but it’s important to learn about the world around you. And who knows? He might be up for election when we are able to vote. I liked what he had to say.”

“Yeah Ryuji” said Morgana, popping out of Ren’s bag. “You’ve gotta pay attention. You could learn a thing or two.”

“Wha-WHAT?!” Ryuji said. “That cat’s been here this whole time?!”

“Yeah,” Morgana said. “By the way, you sounded kind of pathetic, trying to ask her out.”

“Sh-shut up!” Ryuji yelled. “It’s not like you’d do any better, you dumb cat!”

“I’m not a cat!” Morgana said. “I just happen to have the form of a cat…”

“Same thing!” Ryuji said.

“Boys! We have a mission” Ren said, calming them down

“Fine!” Ryuji said. “But why is he here anyway?”

“Well, I live in a restaurant,” Ren explained. “If there was a cat just wandering about, people would freak out, and I wouldn’t have any place to live.”

“Oh, I getcha,” Ryuji said. “Wait, you live in a restaurant?!”

“Well, you said it yourself, we need to get to know each other better,” Ren said.

“Well, yeah, but that would surprise anyone!” Ryuji said. “Are you doing OK?”

“Well, I’m doing as fine as I can be,” Ren said.

“Well, good…” Ryuji said. He sighed. “If you were in trouble, I’d be tempted to invite you over to my place, but we don’t got the room.”

“I see,” Ren said. “Well thanks anyway.”

They arrived on Central Street. “OK, it’s just round that corner. Keep close” Ryuji explained.

Ren nodded. She followed Ryuji around the bend and saw the shop in view. However, she got a sensation in her mind. She looked at the corner where they turned to see a blue cell door there, and standing next to it was Lavenza. Ren was confused.

“Do not be alarmed,” Lavenza said. “No one else but you can see this.”

“What’s it for?” Ren asked.

“It is to help facilitate your mission” Lavenza said. “If you ever need anything from myself or my master, you may be free to do so.”

Ren nodded. “Thank you Lavenza.” Lavenza nodded back. Ren walked back to Ryuji, and the two entered the store.

Untouchable, the store, was packed with real-looking weapons and other high quality gear. “Wow,” Ren said.

“I know, right?” Ryuji said. “This place is pretty cool.” He handed her some money. “Here.”

Ren was confused. “What’s this for?”

“Well, you seemed like a natural back in the village,” Ryuji said. “I just feel like you might be able to make the best choices for what I should have with me.”

“Understood” Ren said. She approached the surly owner. “Um, hello.” The owner looked up. “I was wondering what kind of stuff you would recommend for a really realistic-looking model.”

The owner seemed cautious. “What would you do with such a model?” he asked. “You two seem a bit young to be gun buffs.”

“What are you talking about?! I was here last week!” Ryuji shouted.

“Hm. Don’t remember you” the man said.

“For real?!” Ryuji said.

“Well, I’m a real gun aficionado” Ren said. “Truth be told, he showed me a gun he bought from here, and I insisted he show me the place.”

“Hm. I see” the man said, a smile adorning his face. “Well, for really realistic stuff, we have a few things.” The man helped Ren pick out weapons and gear for the whole team.

“Thanks,” Ren said.

“Come again,” the man said. “Just be sure to be cool when it comes to showing those to people. I don’t want any negative press coming back to me.”

“Understood” Ren said. She and Ryuji left.

“How did you manage to win him over?” Ryuji asked.

“Well, I do like guns,” Ren said. “I’m not that much of an expert, but I really do like the detail on these guns, even if we weren’t using them to shoot up shadows. Plus, he seemed like a man who takes pride in his work.”

“I see,” Ryuji said.

“Maybe you could learn a thing or two from her as well,” Morgana said.

“Shut up” Ryuji responded.

“So, how ‘bout that ramen now?” Ren said.

“Huh? Oh, yeah” Ryuji said. “Let’s head back to the station. It’s a bit of a commute, but it’s good.” The group headed out.

They arrived at the ramen place. “So this is it,” Ren observed.

“Yeah, it’s great!” Ryuji said. “But it is a restaurant.” He gave a look to Morgana.

“...Fine. I can just walk around a bit. Besides, this does seem like a personal thing between the two of you.” Morgana hopped out the bag. “I’ll meet you back here. Don’t worry.” He started walking about.

“So, shall we go in?” Ryuji said. Ren nodded. They stepped inside. Ren handed Ryuji some money. “Huh?”

“Well, you let me pick out the weapons,” Ren said. “And you seem to know this place better than I do. I’m just returning the favor.”

“Alright! I know just the thing!” Ryuji ordered them each a bowl of their best ramen. “Kay, so while we’re waiting, I guess I can tell you a bit about myself. What do you wanna know?”

Ren thought about it. “Well, you said Kamoshida took everything from you. What does that mean?”

Ryuji looked dejected. “Going straight for it, eh?” he said.

Ren panicked. “If it’s too much, you don’t-”

“Nah, it’s alright,” Ryuji said. “Truth is, I used to be on the track team. I’m not good at much but I was second to none when it came to running! So, I figured I’d try helping my mom out by getting a track scholarship.”

“Help your mom out?” Ren inquired.

“Oh, yeah,” Ryuji said. “My dad isn’t around anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Ren said.

“Don’t be,” Ryuji replied. “The guy was the dictionary definition of the word scumbag. He left me and my mom and I before I graduated elementary school. All he would do before that was drink and beat my mom. I think he wanted to beat me too, but my mom wouldn’t let him”

“Sounds awful,” Ren said.

“Yeah” Ryuji said. “Still, I had thought I put all that behind me. But then Kamoshida showed up. He doesn’t like anything that he can’t control, and he knew that included me. He found out about my dad, and told everyone.”

Ryuji smiled, though he looked completely dejected. “I can still remember that moment. Everyone was looking at me in horror. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and I ended up punching Kamoshida in the face.” He sighed.

“What happened next?” Ren asked.

Ryuji frowned. “Kamoshida knew something would happen, but I doubt he was expecting that. He got really mad and broke my leg. The school took his side in it all, and the track team was forced to disband. It’s bullshit! It sucks, you know?”

Ren calmly stated “Yeah. I get it.”

“Here you go,” said the server, delivering their bowls.

Ryuji was now curious. “You get it?” Ren nodded. “Well, since I just spilled my guts, it’s only fair you spill yours.”

“Hm. Fair enough” Ren said. She ate some of her ramen. “Wow, this is good.”

“I know, right?” Ryuji said, excited. “But back to the matter at hand.”

“I know, I know” Ren said. She sighed. “The truth is, I have a criminal record.”

“For real?!” Ryuji said. “What, did somebody think you were too cute and have you arrested?”

Ren giggled. “Ann asked me the same thing when I told her. But no. What happened was there was this man trying to force a woman to get into his car. I tried putting a stop to it, and the man fell and started bleeding. Some officers came by and he told them that I had assaulted him. I was tried and sentenced quickly, and now I’m on parole.

My family thought that a kid on parole in my small town would stick out, so they sent me here. The person I ended up with asked me to live in the restaurant they run because their home situation seems complicated. But he seems nice overall.”

Ryuji was in shock. “Holy shit! What an effing d-bag! I can’t believe it!”

“Ryuji?” Ren said.

“I can’t STAND selfish adults doing whatever they want while making us suffer! It’s BULLSHIT!” Ryuji continued. “How the hell are you so calm about things?”

Ren set down her chopsticks for a bit. “Well, it’s all I can do,” she explained. “I’m always worried about what will happen if everyone at school found out about my record. But fretting about it would be pointless. So I just need to press on.”

“That sucks,” Ryuji said. “You can’t just keep all that in.” He thought about it. “Well, I know I’m not the smartest person, but if you ever need anything, I’m always willing to lend an ear.”

Ren smiled. “Thanks.”

I am thou... Thou art I… Thou hast acquired a new vow...

It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.

With the birth of the Chariot Persona I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.

Chariot-Ryuji Sakamoto: Rank 1

“Well we should finish this ramen,” Ryuji said. “No sense in letting it go to waste.”

“Agreed” Ren said. The two finished their ramen and left to go home for the day.

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