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wanderingxiao · 6 months

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Clubbin’

Scaramouche x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: alcohol consumption, fingering, semi-public sex, slight degradation, hook-up (w/ happy end), unprotected sex (reader on the pill ;) be safe kiddos!)

A/N: super self-indulgent. Why is this so long. And why is Scaramouche so hot? 😍💜 enjoy~

The stench of sweat and strong liquor infiltrated the already irritated Scaramouche, an Old Fashioned clutched between his fingers tightly as he struggled in his resolve to stay at the club. His sharp indigo eyes cast over to his work colleagues drunkly cheering and dancing to the heavy bass that vibrated the floors. His eyes rolled in annoyance, heaving a heavy sigh before casting his eyes back over the wave of intoxicated people.

It was then he felt as if he was being watched. He squinted his eyes, scanning the crowd of drunken faces before he found you, an outcast among the crowd completely sober. You were dancing to the beat of the nauseating bass, your eyes glued to his, a seductive glint drawing him in. He couldn’t take his off of you. He brought his lips to the glass to take a swig of his drink before he set it down. He felt as if his body was moving on its own. Maneuvering through the crowd, he made his way to you.

You turned to face him, a playful smile playing on your glossed up lips, coming to meet him halfway as your bodies touched. Your breasts pressed against his chest, your cleavage on full display for his prying eyes. He swooned at the way you fluttered your lashes at him, looking so innocent yet vulgar. He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t love it.

Your body spun around, the scent of your shampoo luring him in as you pressed your back against him, your butt coming to rub against his pelvis. A light blush covered Scaramouche’s cheeks, his hands coming to find purchase at your hips, swaying his hips sloppily to the bass against you. It was obvious he was really bad at dancing, but you didn’t mind. Having such an attractive alluring guy rub himself against you was heaven enough.

You crooned your neck back against his shoulder, wrapping your arms behind you to circle his neck, pulling him closer. His lips shakily came to inhale the scent of your body, a soft groan being swallowed by the loud music. He began to pepper kisses along your shoulder, making his way up your neck. His hands slid down your front, stopping on the flesh of your thighs before squeezing.

“Follow me.” His eyes widened hearing your voice whispering in his ear seductively. Your hand intertwined with his, pulling him through the crowd towards the bathrooms. He had no objections to your actions. Once you were there, closing off the bathroom to any other drunken people threatening to interupt, your fingers slid the lock in place, your lips being enveloped by the warmth of a total strangers almost instantly.

Scaramouche didn’t know what the hell he was doing. This was the first time something like this had ever happened to him. Fucking a stranger in a club? Unknown to him it was yours too. Both your standards thrown out the window in the heat of the moment on a lonely night dancing in the club. You were beautiful, he couldn’t help being lured in. Not when you batted your lashes and practically begged him to fuck you right then and there.

You moaned softly against his mouth, hands fumbling on his clothing to find purchase on his back, tugging against his clothes to pull him closer. Scaramouche’s hips bucked against your pelvis, rubbing his aching erection flush against your stomach. You melted into him, letting his hands explore underneath your skirt to rub against your panties.

“So wet.” The stranger murmured against your lips, his indigo hair tickling your forehead as he licked your cheek. You could practically hear the grin on his face. His fingers circled your slick folds, coming up next to rub against your puffy throbbing clit. Your back arched against him, moaning into his ear while he touched so perfectly. “You were practically eye fucking me you know that? Tsk… how desperate.”

“A-Ahh, hah, c-couldn’t help it~ y-you just -ngh!- looked too good not t-to get a -Hmm!- a taste…!” Scaramouche dryly chuckled into your ear, a growl coming to rumble against your chest when your hand came to grope at his throbbing cock. “Could say the s-same for you, hah, pretty boy~”

“It’s Scaramouche.” He snapped, his fingers brushing your panties aside to plunge two fingers inside you at once. Your head threw back against the door, moaning in bliss, velvety walls clenching around his fingers at the sudden intrusion. He chuckled dryly, licking the shell of your ear as his fingers began to pump in and out of your wet and fluttery cunt. “It would be wise of you to remember it, whore. After all, I expect you to scream my name when I fuck you senseless.”

His fingers scissored your hole, stretching you out to accommodate his girth. He loved being able to hear your moans so close to him, it beat the obnoxious music playing outside. “P-Put in…! Ngh! Please, S-Scaramouche~” He pulled his fingers out roughly, snapping your panties back against your slick pussy. You whimpered at the sudden action, looking up at him in confusion only to see a dark look of lust.

“Heh, since you asked so nicely, pathetic little bitch.” His degradation made you shiver in anticipation, only causing more heat to build in your abdomen. Any other woman probably would have left right there as soon as he started insulting them. But fuck was it such a turn on when he said such filthy belittling things. The music covered the sound of his zipper sliding down to release his aching cock.

A shaky sigh left his lips as his leaky cock hit the cool air, twitching in anticipation and heavy arousal. Your hands slid up your skirt, pulling your panties to the side, rolling your hips against his cock to feel the heavenly friction of your sexes rubbing. You both moaned against each other, Scaramouche’s hand coming to grab your thigh, pulling it up to his hip, smirking as you wrapped around him obediently.

His tip oozed pre-cum, his member only becoming more lubricated as he slid his cock back and forth against your slit, covering him in your juices. Your hands came to his shoulders, fingers coming to grab the longer strands of Indigo that rest against his neck. Your hips bucked against his, reddened tip teasingly dipping into your twitching hole with every sensational roll of your hips. Scaramouche groaned, looking down to watch the lewd display before he stiffened.

“Are you on-“ You nodded quickly, already knowing what he was about to ask. His body relaxed instantly, smirk returning as his lips came to kiss along your cheek up to your ear. “Naughty girl. But you deserve some praise at least, for being so prepared tonight.” He scoffed lightly, his hands now coming to hold your hips tightly, his pelvis moving forward to rub his cock head against your puffy throbbing clit. “Were you expecting this to happen?”

You shook your head no, looking up into his eyes longingly. He searched for any indicators that you were lying. He found none, only honesty. His chest swelled as his ego became more inflated, grinning in pride knowing he had scored such a beautiful girl not even looking for a one-night stand, and here you were, begging for him to fuck you. His face came closer to yours, the smell of his cologne overpowering your nostrils as his lips ghosted over yours.

“Be sure to scream my name, yeah?” He gave you no time to prepare before he bottomed out, smacking his hips against yours in a swift thrust. You cried out his name, stiffening at the sudden feeling of being so full. His size practically took your breath away. Scaramouche could only groan and pant against your face, his forehead resting against yours for some sort of support as he pulled his cock out slowly. He could feel the friction of your panties on the side of his shaft as he thrust back inside your drooling sex.

“Fuck… n-ngh, so tight.” His breath fanned over your face, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he pulled you against him. Your moans were the only thing he could focus on. That and the inviting heat your warm pussy enveloped him in. Your walls fluttered against length, sucking him back in every time he pulled out. “Hah, you like that, s-slut? Like getting -hah- fucked by me? Mhm!”

“Y-Yes, Scaramouche! I-It’s good~ ahh…! So good!” Your fingers pulled against his hair, pushing your faces together more as you finally caved into kissing him once more. Your tongues collided in a passionate battle of dominance. The taste of unfamiliar liquors invading your mouths as you exchanged saliva. He slid his hand down your hip to grope your ass before sliding under your thigh to pull you up against him, his chest pressing you against the door.

Your legs dangled from either side of him, bouncing up and down as he used you to control the blissful pace. His cock kissed your sweet spot just right with every buck of his delicious hips. He could feel your arousal running down length, gathering thickly against his balls while they wetly smacked against your butt. A low growl erupted from his lips feeling you tug against his hair, and he fucking loved it.

“G-Goddamnit…! Hah, shit… I’m getting… f-fucking close!” Scaramouche hissed out, pulling his lips away from yours with a string of saliva connecting your tongues. He could tell you were close too by the way your legs clamped around his waist and your walls began to twitch. His fingertips bruised your legs while his lips marked your neck, pridefully wanting to leave his mark and remind you how well and good he fucked you tonight.

“Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Scara- Mmgh! So good… I-I’m cumming!” You hugged him closer, your face burying into his neck, drool beginning to coat his nice button-up. All he could do was sloppily thrust faster, desperate to reach his high and get you there too. “C’mon! Almost t-there. Cum for me, slut. C-Cum all fu-uh!-fucking over me!” He snapped his hips, the wet sounds of your sexes colliding becoming louder until he pushed as deep as he could, moaning uncontrollably as he spilled himself inside your twitching walls.

You came close after, your fluids gushing all over his cock to form a creamy white ring around the base of his cock, hips moving subconsciously to help you both ride out your blissful highs. You laid against each other for a few minutes, catching your breath and enjoying the few mere moments you would spend together before Scaramouche would never see you again. Finally, he pulled himself out slowly, his eyes concentrated at the cum that dripped onto the floor from your stretched pussy.

“Tsk, letting all of it go to waste.” He scoffed lightly, finding your panties and adjusting them to hold his cum snuggly against your cunt. He smirked to himself and fixed his attire, looking back occasionally to make sure you were okay. You were fixing yourself up, dusting your clothes off and adjusting your small skirt. Should he say something? What would he say? This was just a hook-up right? Would it be bad if he wanted to do this again with you? Or get to know you better?

“Hey.” He turned to the sound of your voice, interrupting him from his thoughts, your lips holding a smile as you came up to him with a blush on your cheeks. “Uhm…” Your legs wobbled slightly beneath your weight, a small sharpie in your hand as you looked up shyly to him. You looked so cute like this. But why so nervous? Had he done something wrong? He was surprised to hear your next words; “This may be weird, but can I give you my number? I would… love to meet you again… maybe not in a club. Maybe for some tea?“

His face flushed lightly. “Fine. Do whatever you want.” He offered you his hand, refusing to look at you and your glowing face when his face was already flushed in embarrassment at your question. His chest began to ache, his heart speeding up with every number you wrote on his palm. He couldn’t understand it himself, but he was drawn to you, eager to learn more about you and try to decipher what about you had him so enthralled. He looked down once you were finished to see your number written with your name at the bottom. “(Y/N)?”

You smiled. “Y-Yeah that’s me. This was amazing… I hope I didn’t ruin your night.” Scaramouche chuckled, pulling his phone to make sure he got your number saved, just in case it gets smeared away. “You honestly saved me from my annoying coworkers. I should be thanking you.” You laughed in response, smiling before leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Well I need to go. Give me a call! I would love to know more about you, not just your body, Scaramouche. I’ll be expecting you!”

You gave him a cute wink before you slipped out of the bathroom, leaving him alone once more and looking at where you had left. His eyes cast down to his phone, staring at your name and the phone number that was saved into his phone now. His thumbs slid over the screen, cheeks rising in color as his mind ran circles. With one last tap, he exited the bathroom, making his way to find his intoxicated coworkers once more, his heart beating a little faster, a ghost of a smile playing against his lips.

-This is Scaramouche. Sumeru City Cafe. 8:30am. Don’t be late. I’ll be expecting you, (Y/N).

Hope you enjoyed! It super sucked at the end I’m sorry! 😞 Have a great day/night! 🥰💜

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche #this suuuuuucks I’m sorry!!!!!!!

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comatosebunny09 · 9 months

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forget-me-nots snippet | leon k.

genre(s): angst, romance, modern au warning(s): hanahaki disease trope, unrequited feelings, self-loathing, stream of consciousness, language music inspo: adieu - emily bindiger

It was cute, really—how he thought he was getting away with sneaking glances at a certain former femme fatale.

Like his jaw wasn’t already well-acquainted with the floor whenever a familiar shock of scarlet stained the scene.

She—being one Ada Wong—had sashayed past your table with her lips painted rouge. Carried the scent of jasmine and danger with her, placing a nimble hand on Leon’s shoulder. Coupled it with a well-placed wink and a “See you later, handsome,” crooned in that seductive voice that never failed to derail him—never failed to sink your heart into the deepest reaches of your stomach.

You wanted to hate her. Honestly, you did. But you couldn’t find it within yourself since she’d reformed and joined the agency. Turned her back on the life of debauchery in favor of something straighter-edged.

And it didn’t help that Ada was…surprisingly kind. Resourceful. Charismatic. Professional. And Leon speaking life into her name like the enchanted soul he was, swayed you further away from your road of disdain when it came to her.

The hearts haloing his head were palpable.

You could touch them if you wanted. Reach out and flick those cartoonish little things, and Leon’s eyes swirled with them, stained all shades of lovey-dovey. The sight of his longing made you hide a snicker behind your hand, and your heart burn cold.

Leon’s attention snapped to you. All traces of that puppylike infatuation were replaced by mild amusement. Over the sultry croon of the songstress onstage, beneath the sepia glow of the chandelier overhead, his brow quirked with a question.

“What’s so funny?”

The bass of his voice rattled your bones. Enamored you. Always did, drawing your elbows onto the table and your chin atop folded hands. Something in your chest pulsed and pinched, but you masked the throb of it with a teasing smirk.

With a deep sigh pushing through your nostrils, you searched the stratosphere of Leon’s eyes. Admired his features as he maneuvered himself to mirror you on the table. A habit you’d both acquired through your years as partners. Anyone passing would mistake you both for being two pining fools. Though, they wouldn’t be too far off in their assumption.

“Nothin’. Just wish someone would look at me like that.” Despite the tease your voice carried, sadness sank between the vowels and consonants.

Really, you did want him to look at you like that. But you knew you’d never hold a place in Leon’s heart. Not like she did. Could never imagine Leon shuffling around those feelings to make room for someone as plain as you.

Leon blinked a few times. A subtle shade of peach dusted his cheeks. He broke eye contact, taking to fiddling with a wrinkle on the tablecloth as a subdued smile rounded his lips.

Shy was something foreign for your partner. Manly, precise, and goofy were not. He was always so sure of himself. Purposeful in every word, and every action, with a terrible pun or two sprinkled in to break up the monotony of the moment.

So imagine your surprise when Leon Scott-fucking-Kennedy sat amid the liveliness of the ballroom, tucking his bashfulness into the collar of his dress shirt like a boy caught rifling through the cookie jar.

The notion of someone else making butterflies swarm in Leon’s stomach made your chest grow tighter. And a pressure akin to thorns sank into the column of your throat, grazing downward until your trachea grew raw and your chest pulsed again with liquid fire.

It would never be you, would it? Could never be you, right?

“Dunno what you’re on about,” Leon chuckled, anxiety residing in the depths of his voice. This avoidance: he wore it well. Still couldn’t look your way because he’d been caught red-handed, making googly eyes at the woman who haunted his dreams and tarnished yours.

You felt something hot drop into the pit of your belly. Felt your face twitch with the threat of a grimace, yet you brushed it off as quickly as it came.

“Oh, come on. You so wanna bone her right now.”

Leon huffed. Your eyes were trained on how his forearm muscles flexed beneath the polyester of his tux as he reached around the centerpiece for the bottle of Chardonnay. Dragged it from your side, settling it before him with a definitive clunk.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink, little lady. I’m cuttin’ you off.”

It was hard to miss the humored glint of his eye. How he bowed forward in an easy slouch with his fingers laced together, relaxed because he was in the company of his partner. His friend. Nothing more. Never anything more. Your stomach gnarled and lurched, but you tamped it down like you did everything else.

Scoff. “I don’t think you’ve had enough, Mr. Kennedy,” you said, snatching the bottle back to top off your champagne flute. Lost count of how many glasses you had. Anything would suffice to drown out the cacophony of your thoughts. To muddle the sound of vines twisting together and—

Leon leaned back against his chair, dusting off the lapel of his jacket. “Tryna cut back.”

Your brow twitched. Surprising because Leon could throw back a bottle of whiskey like it were water.

“Oh? Would a certain vixen in red have something to do with that?”

He snorted, looking off to the side. “Ada? Nah, she’s…she’s cool.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy drabble #🐬🐬🐬#forget-me-nots series

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dancingtotuyo · 1 month

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Scathed 9 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, idiot(s) in love?, references to the drug war and colombia, Narcos season 3 spoilers

Notes: shoutout to my forever beta reader @janaispunk for looking this bad boy over!

Words: 2923

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry August 4, 1994 Dear Javi,

There are things I can’t bring myself to say. Even out on the back patio under the safety of the stars, I can’t tell you how scared I am that you won’t come back. It terrifies me. I did life without you for so long, but I’m not sure how to go back to life without you in it. We’re going to miss you alot.

You won’t ever see this, but please come back.

This time would be different. It ran on repeat in Javier’s head as he stared out the large windows that overlooked the buzzing city. New position, new apartment, new drug cartel. This time had to be different; he couldn’t get lost in it like last time. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to start back at the DEA in the morning.

He unpacked his last suit case, having put it off since his arrival Friday night, the one that contained his few treasures in life. Framed photos from Chucho: the ranch, the two of them, an old family photo with his mom. A crayon drawing from Alejandra: both of them on horses. A bottle of whiskey from Jaime. A journal from Emily.

“To write down all those thoughts racing through your mind. Even the ugly ones,” she had told him.

He set it on the end table next to the family photo with his mom. This time would be different. A silent oath.

Alejandra’s drawing went on the fridge, the bottle of whisky on the counter, and the other pictures on the bookshelf. He looked around. It all felt scattered, empty, nothing like the apartment he’d made for himself last time.

The familiar urge to go out, drink a couple of fingers of whiskey, and take a warm body home crept in. He fought against it. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. This time had to be different. He’s promised himself over and over again it would be. He promised his dad he would call and write. He told Emily the same…

Could he be here and not let it consume him? Could he be soaked in it all and still talk to her? Be worthy of her friendship? Being here, he felt the sins of his past marring his hands, so real and tangible. The same hands Emily allowed to touch her, what a privilege that was. The same hands she felt safe in.

Javier thought about all the things he used to do when these thoughts raced through his mind when he couldn’t handle the big emotions: bars, cigarettes, sex. Too many times to count. His fingers itched at his side to grab his leather jacket and go.

He paced the length of his apartment running a hand through his messy hair. Then it caught his eye: something sticking out of the journal. He pulled it out.

A crisp envelope with his name written neatly in the middle: Emily’s handwriting. He popped it open. Polaroid pictures. He shook his head thinking about the grief he gave her for carrying that thing everywhere, but a smile appeared on his lips. There was one of him standing in the riding rink as Ale trotted around him on Hurricane. Another taken on the patio just last week: he and the kids eagerly chowing down on popsicles before they could melt in the Texas sun. He could see the red ring around Mateo’s mouth and drip down his chin as the sun beat him. One on the small dock next to the boys and his dad, lines cast into the pond Chucho stocked on the ranch. Javier smiled. Miguelito caught the biggest bass that day. Chucho had been dumbfounded.

He sucked in as he flipped to the last one. It was the picture Alejandra had taken at the park just after he told her he was returning to Colombia. She leaned into him, an ease rarely seen in her. He’d caught a whiff of her shampoo, followed her lead, and leaned in. His thumb rubbed over the picture. He’d put an arm over her shoulder, her hand on his knee it all looked so… peaceful, domestic even, like they were- He cut the thought off, letting the picture fall to his coffee table.

For so many reasons, that was a bad idea.

He padded his pockets, finding the Nicorette gum. He popped the last piece into his mouth. He should grab more on his way to work in the morning.

The Polaroid stared back at him. He looked happy, wrinkles cutting deep around his eyes. He picked the photo back up. He had been happy that day. Happier than he could remember even as he grappled with his decision to return to Colombia. Black ink on the back grabbed his attention. Don’t forget about us, okay? Her handwriting again. Her words to him that day.

He smiled to himself. That was his friend. He wasn’t sure he’d had one of those for a long time. Sure, he and Steve got along, but Steve was back in Miami. They still talked about once a month, but the bond he felt toward this woman was different. He and Steve had been forced together. They had to trust each other. Their lives had depended on it. Javier’s life sure didn’t depend on trusting Emily, but he did. She didn’t judge him. There were still things he hadn’t told her, and vice versa, but he knew when he was ready, he could.

Javier slipped the photo of them into his wallet. This time was different.

He grabbed the phone off the end table and called his dad. The conversation was brief. The last thing he wanted to do was run up anyone’s phone bill, but he could tell his dad was happy to hear from him. He’d rarely received communications from Javier when he was in Colombia the first time.

His fingers hovered over the buttons as he contemplated the second call. He told her he’d call. She told him to call. He pushed past the anxiety, pressing the buttons succinctly. He had it memorized. He checked his watch. It was bath night in the Kuykendall house. He knew that, but usually, the kids were bathed and in bed by now.

Javier smiled as he thought about the few times he’d stumbled into bath night. It was true chaos and an event, but every single person wore larger-than-life grins. It was one of the times Javier felt like he was a part of something bigger than himself, like he’d been brought into something sacred.

“Hello?” Anna answered. He could clearly hear the laughter of children and adults in the background.

“Hey, it’s Javier… I can call back if this is-“

“Not at all.” He felt Anna’s welcoming presence through the phone. “Emily just came out of the bathroom.”

“Bath night.” Javier chuckled.

“Exactly,” Anna called for her stepdaughter. Javier couldn’t hear their exchange over the shouts coming from the living room.

“Javier?”

An ache in his chest eased. “Hey, sounds like a madhouse there.”

Emily laughed and the sounds muted as if she’d shut them behind a door. “Dad seems to have extra energy to chase the kids down tonight. How is it to be back?”

“Strange.” Javier glanced out the window. The city flowed like it always did, people rushing from place to place. “I’ve got a nicer apartment this time.”

“Of course you do, Mr. DEA attaché.”

Javier chuckled. “That sounds too fancy for me.”

“You said the same thing when you bought those suits and I gave you that snazzy new haircut.”

Javier grinned, resting against the countertop. His eyes fluttered shut as he remembered the feeling of her fingers through his hair. His shirt stretched and pulled across his chest as he inhaled. “Still sounds too fancy for me.”

“You ready for your first day?”

“No.”

Her laugh crackled through the line. “Then why’d you go back.”

At that moment, Javier wondered the same thing. He’d much rather be back in Laredo chasing the kids around the living room. “I’m askin myself that same thing.”

“Then do it. Tell the DEA where to shove it and come home.”

He smiled, low chuckle pulling from his chest. “You and I both know I have unfinished business here.”

“Yeah…” Silence sat between them. He could still hear the kids in the background. Javier wracked his brain for the right things to say, but everything he wanted to say he couldn’t. “Finish it quick, okay?”

“That’s the plan.”

“And stay safe. I can’t lose one of my only friends.”

“Oh?” Javier said. He felt an easiness take over him. “What about Lorraine? I thought she was your friend.”

“I said one of, and you’re my best friend anyway.” He can hear her eyes roll. “I mean it though, we all miss you already.”

“Tell the kids I said hi, okay? I’ll call another night when there’s time to talk to them.”

“Will do.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I should be saying that to you.”

“Em.”

“I will. I promise,” she said. “You too, Javi.”

Journal Entry August 8, 1994 Dear Javi,

I bet you spend all day behind a desk and hate every moment of it. It makes me laugh each time I think about it. It assures me that you’re okay too. Fancier job means a safer job, right?

As his first day back came to a close, Javier felt like he’d been there for a year. When he found the sticky note with the name of a nearby bar on his desk presumably left by Neil, he told himself one drink wouldn’t hurt. This time would be different. The mantra felt almost meaningless already. Similar things had been echoed in his meetings all day. This wouldn’t be like Escobar. There would be law and order and protocol. Politics were more important than ever. The world was watching now.

One drink and then home. That was what he told himself as he sat down at the bar, ignoring his coworkers at the corner table. Pulling off his suit coat, he motioned the bartender ordering a whiskey. He turned down Neil’s invite to join the group. The guy was too eager to kiss his ass for Javier’s liking, put him up on a pedestal for taking down Escobar as if he hadn’t been suspended at the time.

He swallowed the whiskey as soon as the glass was set in front of him. Then, he ordered another. Javier wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but it was too long. He rubbed his thumb over the crease of his forehead trying to talk himself out of the opportunity for stress relief sitting in front of him. The group in the corner had dwindled to two. A blonde he hadn’t met and the brunette he met at the beginning. Neil had introduced her. Karen? Katherine? Katie?… Katie sounded right.

His staring wasn’t subtle, wasn’t flirtatious like he’d used to do it. If anything, it was creepy, staring at her while thoughts raced through his head. The mantra shortened until it was only a couple words as he tried to talk himself out of it. Different. Be different. It echoed over and over in his head.

The bar was practically empty by now. She looked up and smiled at him like he wasn’t being a creep. He didn’t return it, still deep within his own mind.

“Pretty girl.” Javier’s head snapped around to find fucking Bill Stechner of the CIA at his side. He slid onto the stool beside him. “Displays some shaky judgment in men though.” He looked at Javier.

Javier glanced away from Bill, looking over his shoulder as if to convey his annoyance with his whole body before turning back to him. He forced the briefest tip of his lips, the closest thing to pleasantries he could summon for the man.

As most conversations with the CIA agent do, Javier was left with a sour taste in his mouth, the innate craving for a cigarette, and his failures thrown in his face. Then, Stechner laid it all out for him, the way things would go whether Javier liked it or not. Cali’s surrender. The facade of justice for the Cali Cartel. He didn’t like it, any of it, and he wasn’t sure why he came back in the first place, or why they even needed him. The DEA didn’t. He was just a pawn in Stechner’s game.

“Cali will serve some time,” Bill said. He doesn’t look at Javier, keeping his eyes pinned to the bartop. “Technically speaking.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

The look that crossed Stechner’s face is something akin to a blend of annoyance and patronizing as he met Javier’s eyes. “If there were any justice in this world, Javier, you’d be in jail.”

It was only half a second before Javier averted his eyes, the shame of what he did flooding him. He wasn’t the hero everyone acted like he was. Stechner knew that. Javier kept quiet.

“I know your guys are running an operation on Cali tonight.” Bill stood, putting enough cash on the bar to cover his and Javier’s tabs. “I can tell you this, it’ll come up double zeros.” More silence. “These guys don’t make mistakes. You try and go after the Cali bosses, all you’ll get is more bodies.”

Stechner finished off his drink, patted Javier’s shoulder, and walked out without another word, leaving Javier with a bigger stress headache than he came in with. Try as he might, Javier couldn’t push it out of his head. He needed something, a distraction. He wouldn’t survive without one.

Javier finished off the whiskey in front of him. He rubbed his forehead, searching for any relief. Different. It seemed quieter now, further away like his resolve was slipping. He needed to be anywhere that wasn’t here, shut off his brain.

He stared straight ahead, eyes glazing over, shining in the dim bar light as he pinched his top lip between his thumb and forefinger. Different. It felt useless, like he was bound to fail. A whisper of an oath. Maybe there was no different for him.

It was almost instinctual, the way he glanced over, eyes meeting hers. She offered him a soft small now sitting alone at the table, cigarette held between her middle and pointer finger, like she had been waiting for him.

“This is Peña. Leave a message.” BEEP.

“Hi Mr. Javi! It’s me, Ale. I miss you already. You should call me soon.”

“Alejandra, who are you on the phone with?”

“Mr. Javi’s voicemail.”

“Ale, it’s expensive to call Colombia. Hand me the phone.”

“Oops.” She giggled.

A long sigh crackled over the line followed by a pause. “Hey Jav… I guess I’ve paid for the next couple of minutes, I might as well use it. I suppose you’re already working late since it’s after eight. Don’t let them work you too hard, okay? And you should still return my call.” More dead air. “It feels silly to miss you as much as I do. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in days… Oh! I got into that class I was waitlisted for. Anne is willing to work with my school schedule so I still get my hours in at work.”

“Mommy!” A voice calls out in the background as a crashing sound follows it.

“Shit” The machine clicked off.

Javier woke up tangled in his navy sheets with the same stress headache and a greater hankering for a cigarette than he’d had in months. Katie slept soundly on her side next to him, back facing him. Her brown hair spread out over the pillow. She hadn’t tried to cuddle, and thank god she understood what last night had been.

Without a second though, he reached for her purse, careful not to wake the naked woman next to him as he eased into a sitting position. Relief flooded him when his fingers glided over the pack of cigarettes and lighter.

There was no hesitation as he put the cigarette to his lips and flicked the lighter to life. The nicotine flooded his body for the first time in months. Finally, he found some relief.

Journal Entry August 13th, 1994 Dear Javi,

I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m sure you’re okay. Dad said there were no reports of anything happening. You’re just busy, with your first week back and all…

Alejandra asks every morning if you called her back. Mateo asks too. I think he’s hoping for stories of chasing down bad guys. Even Miguelito asked about you.

We all miss you so much.

Javier played the voicemail over and over, but he couldn’t bring himself to call back. He hadn’t lasted a day into the job without reverting to old habits. He’d fooled himself into thinking things could be different, into thinking if he did this the right way, if he brought down Cali the right way, he could be worthy of her one day.

The whiskey burned on its way down.

Journal Entry August 15th, 1994 Javier,

I swear if you went and got yourself killed on your first week back, I’ll never forgive you. I won’t even say any nice words at your funeral. Imagine that, your best friend holding back all the nice things about you. The world can just remember you to be the asshole you showed them.

Seriously though, signs of life would be appreciated.

…………………………………………………………………..

Taglist: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @burntheedges @southernbe @fanyyoouu @greengirlwurld

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @weho2kcmo

#scathed (javier peña)#javier peña x you #Javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña narcos #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories #Pedro stories #em’s fics #javier peña series

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zimthandmade · 6 months

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Hi! First of all, I'm a huge fan!! I love your Death Note drawings, your style is incredible and I love how you portray the characters.

Soo I was wondering, in your version of MellodraMattic, how did the confession go or how was their first date like??

Thank you so much for the sweet words!! 🖤🖤🖤

I feel like even when writing fluffy scenarios, it reads as dry as a crime scene report and I feel the need to apologise. I'd much rather draw everything out as I see it play out in my head but there's just no time :'( But here’s one way I can see a “confession” happening.

Okay, so, the situation. L.A., early 2008, they’re both 18 and have been crushing on eachother for quite a while but neither of them made a move yet and the tension between them is suffocating. Matt didn’t say anything because of his low self-esteem, he’s rather suffering in silence than make a fool out of himself and potentially ruining this friendship. Mello is not displaying any signs he’s into guys and in Matts mind, even if he did, he’d probably be the last person Mello would be crushing on. Mello didn’t make a move yet because he’s afraid he’s putting both of them in danger, due to mafia relations. He’s afraid this could make him seem weak, ruin his reputaion or worst case get them both killed etc etc you get the picture, since the gang he’s in is either openly homophobic or just has a really clear picture of masculinity Mello already has trouble fitting in. There’s just a lot of stuff coming together. They’re both so trapped in their own minds that I can barely see them having a sober first move at all.

After living together for 4 years since running away, they’re now living in seperate flats for a couple of months due to convenience reasons, doesn’t matter. Matt isn’t taking living alone well and drowns in isolation. Mello is over for a visit and goes “Bro, you need to get some fresh air. Dress up, we’re going out.” and takes him to some nearby club. It's crowded in there, the bass is so heavy that it basically replaces your heartbeat. Matt finds it really uncomfortable, his social anxiety kicks in hard. They immediately start drinking which loosens things up a bit. Maybe Mello is trying to goad Matt into mingling with people a bit. Maybe something like a test of courage or a dare? "See that one at the back? If you manage to dance with her, I'll buy you another drink." "Pff, child's play. And who are you taking? I'm not doing this alone." "I'll find someone. Now go!"

And they both have a bitter feeling about the whole thing because they're both thinking, "Why am I even doing this? I want YOU to dance with me," and Mello could bite his own ass for sending Matt straight into some girl's arms. He can only swallow his jealousy because he's had alcohol. He has no trouble chatting up some girl and getting her to dance with him. I headcanon Mello inheriting the rizz of his dad. He CAN be charming if he wants to. On the dance floor in the crowd, Mello and Matt's eyes keep meeting over the shoulder of their partner. The looks are INTENSE - full of longing, jealousy, sometimes just grinning at each other. I imagine them touching their partner the way they would like to touch each other - pressing against them, hand on the back of the head, tenderly even. Unusually sensual for someone you've just chatted up in a club. At some point, Mello sits with the girl at the bar and lets her talk his ears off about some nonsense while he keeps scanning the crowd for Matt. He sees him stumble out of the crowd to the bar - alone - and keeps looking past the girl over to Matt, not listening to her at all, just saying "Mhm, oh really?" from time to time. Until at some point the girl turns around, completely annoyed at where Mello is looking all the time. She’s so pissed, rightly so, and just says “… you know, just go dance with your buddy over there if you’re so into him” “… you know what— I’mma do that, actually” and he walks away, leaving the girl sitting there. This one sentence somehow got to Mello, like "Yeah... actually, she's right. I'm just putting on an act here. I'm into Matt, so why not show him? Why am I doing this to myself? I’m a hypocrite if I keep this up any longer."

And Mello comes stumbling towards Matt grinning. “You done already?” “Yeah, she uhh left - I guess I owe you one now huh” “Screw that, come dance with me” “-for real??” “Why not?” and he drags Matt along and it's so fucking crowded in there that they almost feel invisible between all those people. There's this weird anonymity in the room. And they’re dancing so awkwardly adorable together. Maybe Mello goes “What did you do to the poor girl to make her leave you?” “I uhhh might’ve grabbed her butt and she might’ve slapped me for it haha” “Rude haha - you can grab my butt if you want, I won’t slap you” ”Oh be careful what you say, I might actually do that” “Go right ahead, dude”

Matt grabs him hard, he tries to play it as a joke. The alcohol made him so cocky that he'd rather take the chances of being smacked again than let the opportunity pass. Mello doesn't smack him though, they're both just grinning at each other and Matt keeps his hands on Mello's ass, Mello has his arms over Matt's shoulders. They are SO CLOSE, almost nose to nose and they look at each other as they sway, clinging to each other, hearts beating out of their chests. Matt has to stop himself from just leaning forward and risking everything by planting a kiss on Mello. He can't assess the situation AT ALL and he's weighing things up. He just stares at Mello, feels his heart pounding in his ears, everything is so overwhelming, he can smell Mello in front of him and it feels like time slowed down and he’s so anxious he's afraid he's going to throw up any second. But all of this happens in a matter of minutes, seconds, there's hardly any time to think about anything. Instead of just going for it, Matt goes “…what’s with you tonight why are you letting me do this” “I’m trying to make a move on you Mattie, isn’t that obvious haha” “ohhh of course, of course, suuure you are” “…don’t believe me?” “nah… maybe if you kissed me i would-” “ha, no problem-” and Mello kisses Matt on the lips. Matts brain shortwires, there’s no holding back anymore. Matt pulls Mello as close as he can, kissing him back, wrapping his arms around him like he’s afraid he’s gonna be dragged away any second. Mello is pleasantly surprised by the sudden increase of passion Matt is showing towards him. They’re straight up making out in a tight embrace on the dancefloor, there are little to no fucks left to give if anybody sees what they’re doing. Until Mello breaks the kiss and goes “come on let’s get outta here” and they stumble their way outside, arm in arm or even holding hands and Matt’s head is all ??????????????????? but he is so happy?????? this is all new emotional information and he’s not able to process any of it at an appropriate speed. They both feel downright high after that initial kiss. I think they’re both not their first kiss (they both probably kissed strangers in clubs but it was all pretty bland) but the first kiss that had intense emotions attached to it; the first kiss that mattered. And it felt amazing, it changed things. As they walk out, a blast of cold air sobers them up a bit and they look at each other, laughing like they have a new inside joke and they both think to themselves "did that really just happen?" and they both look at their hand in each other's hand and Matt goes “So uhh, — you coming over to my plac-” “Yes” “Haha okay cool” “but uhh— we probably shouldn’t be walking like this” Mello strokes the back of Matt's hand with his thumb and lets go of his hand. “They could see us, y’know” “Yeah”

On the way home (it's a few minutes' walk) they walk silently side by side, red-faced and smiling. Matt keeps looking over at Mello, in disbelief of what the hell is happening. Matt blurts out a "You have no idea how long I wanted to do that" “No joke?” “Mhm” “Why didn’t you just do it then?” “The thought of you reciprocating never crossed my mind and I didn’t want you to judge me” “But I hit on you so hard these last weeks, did you never notice anything?” “I thought you were mocking me, so I played everything for laughs” “Oh man, Matt...” “Yeah” ”…” ”I mean I’m still not entirely sure if you’re not playing a stupid little scheme with me but-” ”I’m not. Matt, I’m not.” ”…okay” ”Sorry for making it seem like I was messing with you” they’re smiling at eachother and walk in silence for a while ”So uhh what are we gonna do at my place?” ”HUH, well uhh —” Mello puts his arm around Matts shoulders, it’s looking more brotherly, but he whispers a ”whatever you feel like” in Matts ear, trying to seem as cool as possible, holding back a grin but failing miserably. It’s kind of an all-or-nothing situation.

I’m gonna spare you the smut here, just know they had a good time that night haha

I guess the gist is, they need to be catapulted way out of their comfort zone to get closer. And they're just horny, inexperienced adolescents in love, so they are awkward by default. They have no idea what they're doing in those regards.

#ask #death note #mello #matt #dn au 2.1 #headcanon #mihael keehl #mail jeevas #wammys boys #wammys house #wammy boys #wammy kids #wammy's house #mellodramattic #mello x matt #matt x mello #m2

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zaacoy · 1 year

Text

It's 3 am!! You know what that means!!! Delusional tang posting time let's gooo yippee!!!!!!

Said I'd dump S4 Tang thoughts here a week ago and then I just kinda. didn't. oopsies, but I can start now!!

S4 Spoilers below the cut, you have been warned!!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE OF SORTS AFTER WRITING THIS: WOW IS THIS LONG. I got a little too silly and put too many thoughts down at once oops, prepare to be reading for a good minute you have been warned (twice!!) aughdhsj

My thoughts are so disorganized rn prepare for a rollercoaster of whatever my brain spits out!!

First. Ep 4 intro.

Good to see that Tang still can never have a nice landing unlike everybody else

THE CROCODILE??????? HELLOSNBD?!?

MF GETS BODY SLAMMED?????

THIS SCREAM????? He gets to scream for like, 2. SECONDS. BEFORE HE GETS?? DRAGGED RIGHT BACK INTO THE WATER????

ALL OF THE SCREAMINGSG??? THE BASS???? THE FUCKING GUITAR????????

I can't. I cannot. convey in words how incredibly funny this scene is to me. I can't sit through it and not laugh or start kicking my feet it's just THAT good. They had Z E R O business doing this to him, this scene had absolutely NO REASON to be THIS chaotic but they?? did it anyway????? jgkngm???? I love this show sm

He's so pretty in this specific lighting I need to draw him like this soon or I will explode wowowee

HE DEFLATED. SO FAST.

That's such a funny reaction, no more energy just. Whatever. Eat me I guess I don't care just start cooking so pigsy can come back please. He is so funny

weapon. just straight up bonk him into a demon like a plank of wood

Actually now that I think about it why? Did nobody untie him??? they found him and just left him like that?? Neither of them ever untied him if memory serves I'm pretty sure pigsy did it while he was cooking. ???

"To get crammin' APPARENTLY! HMPF!"

"Oh, haha! I'M the dinner! Excellent."

Good to see Tang's sass and saltiness never leaves, they should let him be sarcastic and talk back more often

Done with all of your bs glares at you glares at you glares at you glares at y

What comes around goes around!!! Their dynamic is fun wahoo

He noms very happily!!! omnomnom (he deserves it at this point mans DESPERATELY needs a break)

THEY DID NOT HAVE TO CALL HIM OIT LIKE THAT DHDHJS PLEASE????? JAJJS The little sad noises he makes as he gets torn into, little guy behavior tbh

"-stop gorging yourself on our rations!" "I'm sorry! It's just I'm stressed okay!?"

STRESS-EATER CONFIRMED!!!!!!!!! YOU AND ME BOTH BUDDY. No wonder he married a cook, wonder if in college everytime Tang was mega stressed about finals or a big deadline coming up (the latter could be true later when he's out of college and had a job too) if pigsy, assuming he had the time, would just make a meal for him. They probably wouldn't be able to spend much time together in that situation so making him something when he knows Tang is stressed seems like a realistic thing for Pigsy to do in order to subtly show he's there for support when need be. Tang pays that kindness forward by actually paying his tab for once coughs

"HEY! I so to am perfect!" (S1)

"hmmmm, if I wasn't so cool and relaxed all the time I'd be reeeeeally worried about the consequences of this" (S1)

"I know my issue is my self confidence" (S4)

(Can't find a way to make it a gif) Tang: so ""relaxed"" in his current situation that he is shaking hard enough to vibrate in place, coupled with the look of completely calm and collected and ""coolness"". (S4)

Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night chan- gets shot

ACTUALLY THo S4 fleshed him out as a character so much, especially when we compare him to how he started all the way back in S1. Beforehand in earlier seasons everything was mostly stable for him. Same places, same people, consistent comfort, it gave him some sense of security that could have made his "calm and relaxed" demeanor viable back then. But now that everythings been thrown up and ruined by powers out of Tang's control, his bubble of safety no longer stands. We begin to see it in season 3 with lady bone demon's attacks + macaque's continued interference. Tang seems a lot more on edge near the latter half of season 3 then he had been all of the rest of the show and there's definitely WAY more panic present as one bad thing after another unfolds, notably when he is quite literally moved to tears as he's forced to forge the samadhi fire. It does kind of consistently crop up during other prior conflicts too but much more mildly and on a more temporary scale. Now, seemingly not long after the lbd incident as mk evidently still hasn't pushed past lbd all that well, his entire framework of stability is practically smashed into pieces. He's stuck in a scroll, he loses track of all of his friends for a while, there is no comfortable safe space for him anymore(a book can probably only realistically tell you so much about a setting, probably not enough to evoke the same familiarity that his house or pigsy's shop does), he literally almost gets eaten, there's ANOTHER massively powerful divine being threatening the safety of his loved ones along with his own, and on top of it all he can't get his powers (which are evidently in DIRE need right now) to work half the time. He had built a dependency on the routine of mundane life beforehand and S4 completely shatters that routine and subsequent stability. It's no wonder why we begin to see him crack, it make sense why we're just now seeing the actual depths of his lack of confidence and his anxiety. This has always been a problem more likely than not, he was able to cope before, or at least hide it, but he can't now. His inability to use his powers properly inevitably worsens the problem. He needs to use his powers but he cant. He needs to be useful, he has to be, but he just can't no matter how long or how hard he tries. Every odd is against him, it's getting to him and it shows. I love how lmk doesn't try to hero-speech it's way out of every character's doubts. I love how they let him break down several times throughout season 4, I love how they let him show emotional weakness not as a plot obstacle that can be ✨✨completely overcome with the power of believing in yourself!! And friends!!! And flashy magic!!! Yayyyyy!!!✨✨ but as a fundamental part of Tang that he just has to work around and deal with it. They obviously can't get too in depth into it (and probably never will) because a. This is a kid show made by Lego, and b. Because he's, y'know, not the main character, but the attention they did bring to it is nice.

I have. Accidently written a paragraph. Oops. uhhhh tldr: They did a good job portraying Tang's internal struggles through S4 while not invalidating his character and behavior from previous seasons. When you kick the rug out from someone's feet and then throw them off a 400ft cliff into a pit full of spikes they're going to be at least a little bit terrified out of their mind and are probably going to understandably show weakness somewhere along the way, I'm glad Lego takes a moment to explore that with Tang at least a little bit.

OKAY!! MOVING ON!!! SORRY ABOUT THAT GHFJJ

Mentioned this earlier on twt but the death grip he maintains on his staff when he gets really scared is a nice touch. He has a history throughout all 4 seasons of latching onto objects or people when he's distressed, a small but fun character detail!

LOOK AT HIM. GIVE HIM A BREAK HE HAS EARNED IT AND HE NEEDS IT PLEEEASDE IM BEGGING SOBS FORERVRRHRHNM

"ahh I'm sorry I'm just- I'm having a melt down and I have no idea what's going on and I just-!"

In line with what I ranted on about for an entire essay earlier- explicit mention of a meltdown! It's quick and short but the fact that they called it a meltdown at all is impressive, this is the first time I can remember a show calling one as such. A meltdown in response to a seeming extended lack of security and a disconnect between Tang and what's going on around him is realistic too, I think at least. The scene right after this when the gang (mostly sandy) does their best to bring Tang back down to earth for a moment was nice, they're such a supportive friend group I love this little found family

DHDJJ???? THIS ENTIRE SCENE WAS GREAT BUT THIS ONE??? WHERE HE JUST GOES ZOOMING THROUGH THE AIR SCREAMMG?? IS HE OKAY?????? HSJH

I HAVE. HIT MY IMAGE LIMIT UMMMM.

I had more to say and I will probably say those later!! For now this is it, it is almost 6 am I should really go to bed augahh

Remember!!!!: live, laugh, tang lego monkie kid. GOODNIGHT!!

#TLDR: Tang.#Can you tell how insane I am about this fictional man #I have so many thoughts about him in my head at all times and S4 made that so much worse!!! grahgahhmnmmmnn #tang lmk #tang monkie kid #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #I am so eepy rahh #Zaacoy rambles🌙

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delirious-donna · 2 years

Text

Let Me Draw You A Map [Kakucho]

Oct. 4 - Kakucho x female reader

A moment of self-doubt has Kakucho determined to show you exactly what he loves about you.

warnings: body worship, lots of kissing, touching, lil overstimulation, Kakucho being best boy, praise, body issues, talk of scars and imperfections

Masterlist

Inferior.

That was how you felt deep in your gut, a plain jane in a sea of blinding beauties. It almost made it worse that the girls you compared yourself to were so freaking nice, not just nice but more friendly than you had anticipated, but then what had you anticipated?

A gaggle of blonde bimbos with painted faces so thick with make-up that it looked heavy upon the skin, perky tits, and luscious behinds – that was what you had expected.

The partners of the men that Kakucho called his colleagues and kin had been stunning, but not in the way you had assumed. Welcoming smiles and intelligent minds behind their natural beauty, on the arms of the most powerful men in, arguably, the country and they were sweethearts.

You couldn’t help but stare down at the dress you’d taken an age to deliberate over and felt it lacking. Fingers toying with the material that clung to your skin, the cut tighter than you would normally pick, but you had wanted to impress Kakucho.

Wanted more than anything to witness his desire for you, and only you. What a joke. That unfamiliar comfort of feeling attractive as you had looked into the mirror earlier was snatched away by the demons that dwelled in the recesses of your psyche.

You curled in upon yourself, shoulders slouched and pressing further back into the black leather couch that dominated the roped-off area of the club. An arm covered your stomach, shame burning your cheeks as you mentally picked yourself apart. Unbeknownst to you, your actions and withdrawal were being watched – closely.

Kakucho frowned, only half listening to the insistent bickering back and forth between the Haitani brothers. Something unpleasant settled in his stomach, a nasty taste on his tongue that had nothing to do with the neat whisky he had not long finished. The adorable exuberance you had radiated only a few hours ago seemed to have been swept away and left you a hollow shell of the girl he had quickly come to love.

He patted Ran on his shoulder and nodded his intent to leave them to it. The brothers stopped for a moment, necks craning in the direction he was headed and seemed to understand, once again finding full flow in whatever ridiculous argument was the current hot topic.

Kakucho was crouched in front of you before you even noticed he had approached, a hand cupping your cheek as he gently lifted your face to his.

A thumb swept over your lips, the tacky sensation of your clear gloss sticking to the pad. He licked it clean and tipped his head in a silent question. You only shook your head in answer, but that wasn’t acceptable.

Your handsome dark-haired man hauled you to your feet, a firm grip around your wrist as he swept an arm around your lower back and rested his hand on your hip. Kakucho guided you past the rope and tugged you insistently towards the small and crowded dance floor.

The only course of action was to let him lead you, sliding behind you with his arms wrapped protectively around your middle, his hips swayed gently from side to side. Warm breath tickled the hairs at your neck, soft lips touching the shell of your ear as his low rumble of a voice cut through the heavy bass of the music.

“What’s wrong, angel?”

You shrugged, feet shuffling to the beat with slight trepidation that you’d topple over in your heels – not that he would ever allow that.

You cringed as his palms trailed over all the areas you hated the most, your stomach, hips, and the tops of your thighs. When a finger attempted to hike up the skirt of your dress, you pushed his hand away and tried to leave his hold entirely.

His arm only tightened, an anchor fixing you in place and refusing to let you run away like you wanted to. The hand you had thrown off caught your jaw and turned your face to the side. His dual-coloured eyes only beseeched you, there was no anger showing only confusion and it tugged your heart.

Why did he have to be so fucking nice?

To look at Kakucho you might mistake him for a brute, a delinquent turned lowlife criminal that would be mean and vicious. The rough and stylishly short cut of his raven hair, one carmine eye and his white visually impaired eye, the prominent and sharp bone structure of his jaw and face, but it was the scar that made that image of a thug ring alarm bells in people’s head.

The jagged scar that crossed his unseeing eye and spread to the back of his skull. You didn’t blame them, it had been your first impression as well, but it couldn’t be further from the truth – well – the criminal stuff was technically true but not the rest.

You turned in his arms and savoured the aroma of the cologne on his neck, nose pressing to the collar of his dress shirt and your hands sliding down his strong back to slip into the back pockets of his pants.

Side to side you swayed, not at all dancing to the music that was blaring around you, but it was comforting to be here and feel his steady heartbeat against your shoulder. He let you stay this way for a while longer, frequent kisses pressed to your hair, but he wasn’t letting it go – something was wrong, and he needed to fix it.

“Talk to me… please,” he asked, and you caved.

“Why are you with me, truly? I look at all these pretty girls,” you pointed towards Rindou and his girl that were grinding like horny teenagers in the far corner, “and I don’t understand why you’d settle for someone so… plain. I’m not –”

His lips silenced you, demanding and almost furious as he swallowed the words you had tried to voice. Kakucho pressed his broad palms from around your back to over your ass, his grip almost painful as he hauled you directly against his lower half. Rubbed you up and down the length of his cock that was straining beneath his pants. He tugged on your lower lip with his teeth before letting go as you whimpered and hooked your fingers into the front of his shirt.

“Come with me.”

The tone was one you weren’t used to, that deep command that he reserved for strictly business and was never directed towards you. Heaven help you if it didn’t make something new writhe in the pit of your stomach, and it didn’t help that his stare evidenced that he was less than impressed.

Where was he taking you?

The music was masked in the private back room you found yourself in. Part of you wondered what need there was for a mammoth four-poster bed, mirrored walls and a bank of seats close to the bed, but the longer you thought about it, the less you wanted to know the answer.

Your mind ran riot with what kind of depraved acts might have taken place here and that flare of jealousy sparked at the idea of Kakucho having taken any part in it.

As if sensing your train of thought, Hitto caught you under the knees and lifted you up with a squeal of surprise. He knelt on the satin sheets and deposited you to the mattress.

There was a faint scowl tainting his complexion as he loomed over your prone frame. His gaze tracked down your length, softening with every second that passed.

“I never… y’know,” you watched him fumble for the words, “I - I’ve seen what has gone down in here but never… taken part. I could never share.”

That was all it took for you to pull him to you, to kiss away the sad look that tinged his features and cup his jaw. You believed him, there wasn’t a part of you that doubted him even slightly.

He tasted like alcohol, smoky and peaty. Hesitant kisses gave way to deep, hungry ones that stole the very air from your lungs.

Kakucho sighed, parting from you and speaking against the flushed skin of your cheek, “why do you think you’re plain?” He silenced you with a finger against your lips, “do I need to show you what I see when I look at you?”

Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d be strewn naked across such a decadent bed in the back room of a club run by your man’s organisation.

Kakucho had stripped you slowly of your dress, taken his sweet time removing your shoes and kissing from your instep to your knee and back down to the other foot.

His touch was reverential, so soft as he swept his fingertips across your thighs, the expanse of your hips and over your stomach. He traced the edge of your panties, kneading at the soft weight that you despised.

You looked away, but he noticed, of course, he did.

“This is beautiful. This is real. So soft and perfect,” he cooed. He grabbed your hand, pressing the palm to the same spot on him and you felt how tight and strong he was. A wall of literal muscle and your breath caught.

“Angel, you are the other side of me. Soft where I am hard, yielding where I am firm and I love that. I like you exactly as you are, I more than like you.”

You bit back tears and continued to follow his movements as his head dipped to kiss and lick at your skin. His tongue blazed a path around your navel, dipping into your belly button before sucking a small mark to show where he had been.

Your nerves were raw, emotions exposed and your body bare to the man that you had given your soul. Every inch of you he covered in kisses, soft words of adoration mumbled into your flesh and every subsequent touch stoked at the fires burning between your legs.

The path had started at your ankles, slow and methodically Kakucho inched up your body and now he had your bra unhooked and flung to a shadowed corner. He palmed your mounds, gentle as his rough skin grazed over your stiff nipples.

“Love your boobs, the perfect handful,” he groaned, thumbing your budding peaks seconds before his lips captured one in his mouth.

Kakucho kept his eyes on your face as he suckled your plump breasts, letting his tongue flicker around and around until your head tipped back and your legs rubbed together.

He switched sides, making your spine arch and hushed moans spill from your lips. Pink tinged your chest and cheeks, worrisome eyes looking towards the door but you had nothing to fear, it was most definitely locked and he had the only key.

“Focus, baby. Eyes here.”

Working your panties over your hips and down your legs, this was now you found yourself entirely naked whilst your man was still fully dressed. Hands trembling you didn’t know where to put them, wanting to cover yourself but also wanting to touch him.

He kissed your knuckles, lifted both hands to his face and nuzzled your palms. Your fingers travelled over the jagged edge of his scar, biting your lip as you often did when you recalled how he had received it.

“No,” he whispered, “no sadness. Want to make you feel good. Need you to see yourself how I see you. My angel, the only person that keeps me in the light.”

With that, you let him continue this worship because that was how it felt. He was worshipping every inch of you and that realisation settled over you like a calming presence. He really did love the wobble of your tummy, the dimples on your hips, the cellulite that showed on the round globes of your butt and every other little imperfection.

You trembled, pleasure building in steady waves, unlike anything you’d experienced prior. This was so different to how you normally descended into desire and it was far more intense. He hadn’t even touched between your legs and you were soaked. Slick slipping over your ass to stick to the sheets.

“Kakucho please, I need you.”

He smiled, pausing the path of kisses that spread over your collarbone, a litany of marks covering your skin from every place he had bowed his head in worship.

“Anything for you, angel, but you gotta admit you’re beautiful,” he stated calmly.

Air puffed through your nose, why was he forcing this upon you? You frowned, and he mirrored the expression back at you.

“Does this,” he took your hand once more and touched it to his scar, “make me ugly?”

“No! What the fuck, baby? No, of course not. You are the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Both inside and out,” you yelled indignantly.

His smile widened, carmine iris blazing with the warmth of a million suns.

“Then why shouldn’t it be the same for you? You. Are. Beautiful.”

You could only stare as he unbuttoned his dark grey shirt, tawny skin unveiled and your mouth ran dry. Such definition on his torso, stark lines that cut each section and highlighted his unrivalled strength. There might be scars that evidenced the hard trials he had faced in life but it didn’t make him any less attractive.

When he was down to only his tight boxers, he pressed a sole kiss to your lips and slid down your body. The strength in his arms as he moved was hypnotising, the most erotic thing you had ever witnessed.

Warm air tickled your pussy that dripped with arousal, Kakucho cocked his head as he waited and you knew what he wanted from you.

“I’m - I’m pretty,” you squealed, quickly covering your eyes.

Your spine bowed off the bed, a hot wide strip licked up your slit and you were cumming. So fucking hard and it was from so little, Kakucho had worked you into a fever pitch.

“That’s it, angel. Let go for me. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

And he was true to his word…

#delirious writes #kinktober 2022 #kinktober #kakucho smut #kakucho fluff #kakucho hitto #kakucho tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev smut

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yoinkschief · 1 year

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Content Warning: Nudity (Nothing explicit or sexually motivated)

Also there's a gigantic fucking rant under here about this bastard I did NOT plan for it to be so long and I have this sinking fear the others will be just as, if not longer

Take this traditional ref sheet because I can't be bothered to make it digital right now

Sheet Translations and explanations cause I have shitty handwriting:

7'2"

Used to be 5'8" but you know how that goes XP

Whoag! He's tall! Seem experimentation can go a long way :)

★Strip/Mafia Tord is the only version of Tord who wears earrings anymore

I used to always draw Tord with earrings, specifically dangling earrings with upside down crosses on them, but more recently I've stopped doing that and instead draw him with only a tongue piercing that him, Tom and Edd all have matching (they tried to convince Matt to also get one but he was worried about it ruining his teeth), so as a way to homage to my previous design and because it fits him too well I gave him diamond studs :)

Hearing aid [picture]

Tord wears a hearing aid! On top of his eye sight being fucked in his right eye and not what it used to be in his left, his hearing also is shot! He needed a hearing aid on his right ear and on top of his processing issues from his ADHD he can't hear as well as he used to in his left ear (not that his loud bass music taste ever really helped)

Has no waist, giving the illusion he has hips (he doesn't)

Shawty's got no hips and no ass, the only meat he has is in his massive bohongas and the only meaty claw he has left, he already had a triangular shape what with his big ass rib cage and zero hips but going to the military made him even more top heavy so now he's even more triangle

Screen [picture]

His robot arm has a screen on it that's basically an apple watch but better because I fucking hate apple,,,, and yes it does say OPPAI on it, it's an inside joke between me and my lovely partner :)

Spectator Shoes [picture]

Because I think he would wear them, and it's a silly nod to his constant need to be in the spotlight and not sitting on the sidelines: that was the whole reason he left to go to the military in the first place, he was sick of being "Edd's friend" and not "Tord" if that makes sense, he needed an out (and just from personal experience of having people I know go to ROTC and/or join the military fresh out of highschool, it's a good wake up call for some, and a horrible fucking power trip for others,,, don't really know how that last one happens when the whole point is to get you to cry to your mom and beg to go home but hey, to each their own I suppose)

[picture] Power Core

Serves to connect to Tord's nerves, forming it into power to move his arm with

The logistics behind this are loose at best and a goofy thought I had at worst, but basically it's something like the workings inside of the bionic arm connect Tord's nervous system to the core which then converts his thought energy/brain's commands into actual movement, which is why he has one at his shoulder (to connect the nerves) and one on his hands (to connect to The rest of his arm, think of it as like the two power cores being connected via invisible string that gets manipulated to pull his hand up, down, to the side, and so on, and the bicep and forearm connected with the elbow allow it to bend more naturally). That's the best way I can explain it

[picture] The coat he wears on his shoulders,,, meant to pay homage to the coat he wears in his 2004 design

Pretty self explanatory, but since he doesn't have his OG coat (because Edd now wears it, more on that when I get to his ref sheet) this is what he's wearing, a big ass mob coat with gold trim as the accents,,,, I spent way too long drawing Zenigata's mandatory oversized detective/inspector trench coat to not somehow find a way to bring it to someone else's design

OMG! He nakey!

Yup. I'm very mature.

Dragon Tattoo [pictures]

Ahh the infamous dragon tattoo HC,,, at least I think it's infamous- I've seen a lot of people with it so, lol. Additionally, he also has a tattoo of Jason Voorhees' mask at the base of his neck/top of his spine, but it's covered by his hair so I didn't think to add it but there's a very cute story behind it: Tord used to have a snake (he bought it as a ball python,,, it was not,,, it was a reticulated python, and he only found out when he didn't stop growing) who he so lovingly named Voorhees because he was white with a grey splotch on his face that Tord swore looked exactly like Jason's mask, so, he got a tattoo to match with his pet snake. Like a queer.

✨Trans✨

I will never miss the opportunity to make Tord trans masc I love him so

[picture] Leads with his chest

Machismo or something, I dunno, but he has the cocky confidence of a bastard type air around him and so in later years he starts leading with his chest after he goes to the military, versus his past, more laid back, lead with his hips. And by laid back I mean both he was more "devil may care" and trying to get laid, because he's got the libido of a dog in a heat thinking he was doing something leading with his hips because all the snoody whores do it in his anime and he hasn't touched grass since he was in college,,, boy howdy was that military a good idea to knock some sense into him (even if that did come with giving him an excuse to be even more power hungry and that much more of an attention whore)

Still has no ass

Yeah. No amout of drills can give him muscle there, and trust that he's tried (mostly out of spite because Tom always made fun of him for having a flatter ass then Matt, a literal twink with scrawny limbs,,, though you shouldn't let that fool you, he's far too strong for how thin he looks. Anyway look at how that turned out: it didn't lmao)

Ouroboros Tramp Stamp

Another fun story to tell :) so, back when Tord lived with Edd and the gang, he got super hyperfixated on Vikings and their symbolism and artworks and whatnot (he recently rewatched all of the How to Train Your Dragon movies and it lead him down a rabbit hole leading him to want to learn more of his ancestry seeing as most Norwegians came from vikings,,, if I remember correctly, do correct me if I'm wrong) and texted them about what Viking tattoos they should get: Tom's was the Viking rune for "Wolf", Matt's was the Yggdrasil, and I can't remember what Edd's was. The reason Tom was Wolf because it just fits him, he's got that "lone wolf" energy to him but he's just a dork who enjoys being around his friends whether he'd say that to their faces or not, and he's fiercely loyal to them to the point where it anyone would be the first to die for their friends in the group it would be him. Matt's is the Yggdrasil because,, well I can't really explain this one, it's just cause it fits really, I dunno how to explain it. Tord is ouroboros because mmmmm the snake that eats itself is just fucking spot ON for Tord, and having it as a tramp stamp is the sweet cherry on top, self destructive habits and a drive to run himself into the ground to satisfy his insatiable need. Tord has no idea if the others got these tattooed on them (they did, and to everyone's surprise Matt also got a tattoo,,, though no one knows that any of the others got their tattoo save for them knowing Tord got his cause duh)

An interesting thing to note if you want is that often times people will get a tattoo of Ouroboros surrounding the Yggdrasil, so you could say Matt and Tord kind of have matching tattoos. And for the storyline, that can be seen as important

Also fun fact: Tord's original tattoo was supposed to be the symbol for lightning as a way to nod at the fact his name "Tord" is a shortened version of "Torden", at least in my headcanon, which means "Thunder" in Norwegian,,, but then I found out that symbol has become a N*zi dog whistle and by god this man does NOT need any more fucking N*zi symbolism in his design can we fucking stop with that. Besides, ouroboros is much better anyway, I think

EDIT: I REMBER NOW - Edd's tattoo was the Web of Wyrd due it being created by the Nords, the Norse mythos' equivalent to the fates, the symbol representing fate and the fact that your past actions have consequences on your future (something something obligatory EDDS-world joke and WTFuture joke) but yeah Edd's got this one like how the others do

- Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!

Will Wood + The Tapeworms

- Dogs // Still Bummed

nouns

- BAD LUCK!

Jhariah

- Selfish Hate

JAWNY

Just some songs I was listening to while drawing that I thought fit him a bit and the vibes I was going for, I highly recommend you listen to these songs if you haven't already,,, P.S. for everyone who loved Panic! At The Disco when the band was still together and before Brendon started writing his own lyrics, ruining his voice and came to light to be a piece of shit, I HIGHLY recommend Jhariah, he's him but so much better I fucking love his dogs, his albums give the same vibes as the Vices & Virtues and A Fever You Can't Sweat Out albums,,, and I couldn't help myself I love Will Wood holy shit

Time for an info dump about Tord in this AU,,, be prepared it's so fucking long this has been stuck in my head for forever pleASE-:

Obviously, The End Part 1 & 2 are canon in this series, but Tord has absolutely zero regrets about it - he can't, otherwise all the work he's done is for naught,,, although it wasn't planned; his original plan WAS to move back in with Edd, settle down and continue his operations in London with his buds without them ever knowing cause he missed them, however, they got to nosey and so he had to abort with what he was hoping to have finished (the giant robot) but was unable to due to, well, Tom

"but how come Tord was trying to kill Tom, then, if this wasn't what was planned?" Because it was fucking funny, Kyle/ref,,,, also because as a side note: Tom canonically cannot die, or at least, hasn't found anything that can yet and he's not at the old age for that yet. He has what I like to call "Deathly Immortality", or "Cartoonish/Looney Toons Immortality" where he "dies", but then comes back like nothing happened and no one mentions it as any different

Tord has something similar, as well, but instead it's more of "Unfortunate/Spiteful Immortality" or "Anime Immortality" in the sense of where Tom dies and pops back up like a toon character, Tord is like an anime antagonist who just won't die, like William Afton he always comes back but in worse and worse state (He also got sick an ungodly amount in his youth until his body was like fuck it and actually gained an immune system for every illness he kept getting lmao,,, pollen still wrecks his ass though)

Afterward The End Part 1 & 2, Tord poured his full attention into his mob, experiments, and his projects, the thing he was basically trying to use his friends as a front for before Tom got too smart, since he was having trouble not being homesick for his previous life before he went to the army and got power hungry,,, guess you can't be homesick for something that doesn't exist anymore LMAO, anyway- in pouring himself into his work, he buys an "entertainment building", as he calls it, to launder his money: Midnite. Because he thinks he's clever or something misspelling Midnight. Midnite is basically like, all sorts of things rolled into a skyscraper, each floor has a different thing: A restaurant, a casino, an arcade, a strip club, wink wink nudge nudge, but basically this is where he holds meetings and such with his money laundering

Strip/Mafia takes place I'd say... Three? Years after The End? Long enough for Tord to get way too much shit done but short enough that bitter feelings are still felt between the gang for Tord and from Tord

Yes TomTord is canon, but let me tell you this is god's slowest candle wick, because Tom fucking GOES THROUGH IT in this story man, cause everyone's going every which direction, suddenly changing and leaving and he hates it in general because mmm parental issues of dead parents who left too early, the fact that he's autistic and fucking hates sudden changes, the fact Tord is alive is enough to piss him off, it's just all around not a good time for him and so the TomTord is very Tord sided. He's always had a fascination with Tom since highschool, but didn't really understand what it was until he had to be told to his face by who was supposed to be his significant other 💀 but Tord enjoys Tom because he truly is the only one who was able to keep him on his toes in his youth as he got older it grew deeper and he gained a bigger appreciation for Tom and his knack for always being able to throw Tord off his guard,,, to be fair though that's mostly because Tord relies on his quick wit, luck, and the gullibility of others; he's not really good at long term planning and thinking versus Tom who is amazing at pattern recognition and planning long term and for this that could go wrong, in other words, thinking and planning ahead

Additionally, Edd sided TordEdd, too, because love triangles or something, except they both are like bordering narcissistic personality disorders so it really would not be good for either of them to get into a relationship with each other, not that Tord really wants to (anymore? He kinda had a thing for Edd in highschool at the beginning but fell out of it pretty quickly, which, fun fact, is an ADHD thing: Edd gave him instant gratification and euphoria so, like people with ADHD tend to do, he fixated on it, but slowly fell out of it once he stopped thinking with his excitement about having a new friend who actually paid attention to him), but Edd is CONVINCED Tord is just doing all of this for attention from him like he's begging Edd to "save him" (he's definitely not) because Edd "doesn't have a savior/hero complex, stop telling people that omlll" so that's always fun

Errr trying to think of more to say without just writing out an entire book or just showing pictures of the OG script I wrote for it JGXXGJJXG

Feel free to ask any questions oml this AU is stuck in my head I seriously can't keep it contained any longer

Drag/Street racing exists and is a big(?) part of this lmao,,, I mean kinda, it kicks off Tom slowly beginning to rekindle his feelings for Tord and shows Tom's relationship with Paul and Patryck from when they met in college along with Tord

Hooo boy college alone would be a lot to explain, so much shit happened in college but it technically isn't super important to the story? Besides the Paul and Patryck meeting Tom and Tord thing, ofc, but like what happened in college follows my general timeline headcanon of Eddsworld and it's a lot to explain when most of it just gives reason as to why Tom and Tord hate each other/bicker a lot when they move in together and gives a more in depth reading of their relationship and behaviors, moreso as to why they fell into stuck a pitiful state (butterfly affect baby, ONE action called them to both fall over the edge)

Also, I have a list of people I've based/referenced for Tord as Red Leader and it goes as follows:

Gustavo Fring - Breaking Bad/Better Call Saul

Professor Venomous - O.K. K.O., Let's Be Heroes!

Lord BoxMan - O.K. K.O., Let's Be Heroes!

Bill Cipher - Gravity Falls

Dr. Robotnik - Sonic Franchise

Yes I'm aware how chaotic that listing is lmao, but to be fair when I think Red Leader I think calculated and cunning like Fring and Venomous, but also stupid loony silly like BoxMan,, and of course a menace to society like Cipher and Robotnik

That's all for Tord I believe,,, I'll do more soon I'm sure

One last Tord appreciation:

Have I expressed how much I love drawing people's torsos, I think they're gorgeous

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quindriepress · 1 year

Text

This week's spotlight is on Ell J Walker and their comic Catharsis. Ell is an Edinburgh-based artist who originally washed up on the shores of Orkney. She likes drawing sad men, horses, guitars and folklore. (@elljwalker | website | instagram | mastodon | twitter)

Catharsis follows Dimitri and Asha, two young heavy metal musicians. "Catharsis is about self confidence, figuring out how to express vulnerable and destructive feelings, and about seeking confidence from within yourself rather than from some outside source. It’s also about death metal, demons and young aspiring musicians, backed by the setting of remote coastal Scotland."

Read the spotlight below the cut!

"This comic is a bit of a mix of things - first and foremost I wanted to create something that I’d really have a lot of enthusiasm about. I’d had a really rough time creatively over the past few years during lockdown and the ongoing pandemic, and I really needed to be kind to myself and make sure the next thing I made was going to be fun. I remember thinking to myself when I was putting together the pitch: ‘if I’m going to be drawing 40 pages of this, it’s going to have to contain things I really enjoy drawing’. Hence the sad boy with long hair, the horse, the demon, the guitars and the sea."

"On top of that, I’ve been on a huge metal kick lately. It was something that helped pull me out of the strange, buzzing, numb anxiety that the pandemic had injected into me. Listening to metal was weirdly soothing - it felt like a way to feed the parts of me that had been depleted with music I could really feel. Growling, angry, monstery vocals, insane shredding, weird time signatures, the seismic thrum of double-pedalling bass drums, galloping rhythms - it’s something that helps me simultaneously soothe myself and really feel things. Maybe that doesn’t make a lot of sense. I just really like metal, and wanted to express both how it’d helped me, and how much of a valuable medium it is to safely express volatile feelings - a key theme in Catharsis."

"I think since music has always run parallel to art for me, they naturally feed into one another, even if it hasn’t felt like it at times for me. I’m sure it’s different for everyone, but personally, playing music feels like tapping into an internal part of me that knows what it’s doing - it’s how I found confidence in my teen years. I was lucky enough to start learning piano from age 8 and guitar and bass from age 12 - so I got the awkward part of the learning process out of the way fairly quickly, when I didn’t have all that much self-consciousness to hinder me. And while I’ve never been super great at composing or improvising, having the confidence to know my technical skills let me perform always fuelled my confidence. Saying that though, like Dimitri, at times I do often struggle to play in front of people. Ironically, my younger, more generally self-conscious self was better at that than my current, more confident adult self. I wonder why that is? Maybe I should draw another comic to find out."

"Art, although I’ve been doing it for even longer than music, feels very different as a creative process. It definitely comes from somewhere else in me, somewhere maybe a little bit more introspective and personal, and therefore more delicate. I’m still grasping to find my art confidence - I suppose writing and drawing Catharsis is a reflection of that, and reminding myself that it’s just a case of finding it within yourself eventually, even if it means taking baby steps, and gradually practising how to express that vulnerability."

While music has played a big role in Ell's life, it hasn't been their only influence. "For a long time I’ve drawn inspiration from folklore and stories that appear fantastical, but can be read as allegorical or metaphorical. I think art and stories are made real by the viewer/reader and their interpretation, and ancient stories that are retold through the mind of someone new are super interesting to me - what new themes can be added by the reteller, and what original themes that were put there hundreds, maybe thousands of years ago, persist? I particularly enjoy the Hellboy comics for this reason (also because they’re so much fun) as well as the God of War games.

"I also take a lot of inspiration generally from the natural world around me, and how I feel when I’m in nature. I think having recently taken more time to practise mindfulness and work on my own mental health has really expanded how I think about stories, the world around me and how I relate to it. I want to help inspire others to find the strengths that exist within themselves that they might think aren’t there, or they can’t reach."

"I grew up in the town of Stromness, in Orkney (a small archipelago of islands off the top of Scotland, for those who aren’t familiar), and therefore spent most of my young life living about ten paces from the sea, so the sea in particular has always felt like a part of me and my development.

"I was taught to fear and respect the ocean from a young age, particularly because the sea could be incredibly rough and dangerous around the islands. I know of several people who have lost their lives to it in one way or another. I think the fact that such a powerful natural force that was nevertheless teeming with life - the contents of rockpools, seaweed, seals, otters, seabirds, fish, cetaceans - was just really fascinating and interesting to think about. Of course folklore is something else I heard a lot about as a kid, and being able to hear these stories, then go for a walk down the shore and imagine these creatures of myth and legend existing in the same place - or even to see the selkies watching me from the water - was an amazing inspiration."

Ell has this advice for aspiring comic creators: "Make sure you’re making comics for YOU, not what you think other people want! This is something I’ve struggled with for a long time (art school taught me to make what the tutors wanted, not what I wanted) and can be more difficult than you think. But ultimately if you have enthusiasm for your project, it will always shine through. If it’s a slog, and you’re not enjoying it, hit the bricks! Have fun with it and don’t let expectations, or worse, perceived expectations, curb what you enjoy making."

You can pick up Catharsis, alongside the other three comics in our 2023 collection, right here on Kickstarter!

#elljwalker #ell j walker #catharsis #2023 collection

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thassa · 6 months

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Some good things did come out of my large breakdowns I had a few weeks ago.

I've never had much faith in myself in regards to my goals, and I gave up on a lot of things that mattered to me. Music, art, social work. I struggled with impostor syndrome my entire life, and suffered from low self esteem due to the struggles that came with growing up with undiagnosed ADHD. I always felt like I tricked people into thinking I was smart because I could never do things consistently. And I pretended that I just didn't want to do those things anymore, when in reality I didn't think I deserved to do them, because I wasn't actually capable.

I realized that if I wanted to be happy, I needed to give myself more credit and be willing to make mistakes. I am allowing myself to realize I'm lovable, I'm likeable, and I didn't trick my friends or loved ones into caring for me. I'm worth having a job that makes me happy, and I'm worth pursuing my passions. I played my bass guitar for the first time in years the other day, and even though it wasn't much, it was... unbelievably cathartic.

For the first time in a long time, I'm making some new years resolutions and planning long term goals. They include:

- Starting therapy. I have been more stable the last couple weeks- I am trying to be kinder to myself and practicing grounding techniques for when work gets overwhelming, but I feel like I need to have an outlet to talk things out. I have reached out to a few therapists and am waiting to hear what their availability is like to schedule consultations.

- Get back into bass and art! I ideally would like to get an upright bass and join the local community orchestra, but I don't think that's going to be realistic for a while. That doesn't mean I can't play, though, even if it's for myself. I need to actually get my bass guitar and amp set up, but in my downtime I've been sight reading some music and practicing the rhythms. I also have been trying to draw more. Ideally, I would practice the basics, because I want to refine my style more, but as long as I'm creating I'm happy.

- Networking with the new marketing director at my current job. While the customer service aspect of my job sucks at times, I work with a supportive team and I know if I ask my boss, she'd support me trying to learn and grow, and who knows? Maybe I'd be able to shift gears from my current position.

- Finish taking this marketing course through Coursera, and maybe get a couple other certifications along the way. I'm on track to finish the Coursera course in six months, but I'd like to get it down to three, if possible. It's pretty easy to finish a week's worth of modules in a day as long as I have the spoons (and now that I'm back on my ADHD meds, it should be easier)

- Once I'm further along in the course and have more formal training, I want to reach out to the chorus my wife volunteers with and offer to do their social media. I know it's something they don't have a lot of time for (and it could use improvement), it would be good experience for me, and it would get me volunteer experience in two fields I'm passionate about: music and the LGBT community.

And as for my long term goals, they include:

- Getting a job in marketing, ideally for a company that specializes in music or audio

- Finding community in music. Be this getting an upright bass and joining an orchestra, or playing folk music with my wife and our friends, or whatever. Music used to mean so much to me, and while I don't want performing to be my full time job anymore, I want it to be a part of my life in some way, shape or form.

- Finding community in the arts again. I feel like I made some good headway last year, but my insecurities kept me from doing more. I also want to pursue more physical art. I enjoy doing digital art, but I'm definitely harder on myself than I am when I use a physical media. I place a lot of pressure on myself to make it perfect, which leads to my style being sanitized.

- Improve my executive functioning skills. I'm slowly getting better, but therapy will help

I haven't had a long term goal since I got married, bought our house and graduated college, which has lead to me just kind of floating around. I feel like these goals reflect what I've been missing and I'm excited to pursue them!

#sorry for the long post but this is my vent blog! i can post what i want!

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spuddlespud · 1 year

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Find the Word/Manuscript Search Tag

Tagged by:

@inkspellangel 💜: home, pick, why & around

@aohendo 💜: draw, bank, bow, bass, and cow

@talesofsorrowandofruin 💜: mild, money, music, memory and margin

@talesofsorrowandofruin 💜: maybe, perhaps, possibly and likely

I tag: @winterandwords @eccaiia @blind-the-winds @primroseprime2019 @sillyliterature @btranscrolls @littlepatchofhell @late-to-the-fandom @justnerdy15

Your words are: burn, big, blunt, beg

Home - Untitled Werewolf WIP

She shuffled her way back home, her tail, both figuratively and literally, between her legs.

Pick -A Short Way to An Angry AI

Deciding to just repeat the same refrain after she realised she'd forgotten the other lyrics meant that Sadie soon picked up Celeste's version of the song, her singing voice perfectly on tune but with a metallic quality to it.

Why - Untitled Werewolf WIP

"He is. He's not going to be in the mood for it today though."

Mutt grinned. "Why do you think I've dragged myself in today."

She could tell Darius was holding back a smile, even as he rolled his eyes.

Around - A Short Way to An Angry AI

Riley glared at her as they barged past to the bathroom, noticeably the only room on the ship the AI did not have access to.

Celeste looked around the galley for clues. "What put them in such a foul mood?"

Draw - Old Inn Door

The rest of the week dragged by. It wasn't exactly the cosy homecoming a young woman could have asked for. First there was all the settling back in to do, cases to unpack, bedrooms to air out, baths to be drawn.

Bank - A Workers Guide to Demonology

The door mocks me. Okay, plan number two. To be honest, I don't really know what to do. Food seems appealing but I don't have any money and I have no idea how to withdraw from Ellie's bank account.

Bass -none

Cow - The Familiarity Between the Owl and the Pussycat

An almost imperceptible meow came from under the tree, and he saw Midnight's coal black fur where the cat was cowering.

Mild - none

Money - A Workers Guide to Demonology

You'd think I'd have something better to do with my evening, but many human 'experiences' in England cost money which I am sorely lacking in, and it is exceptionally hard to convince customer service workers that I am a credible physical threat when I am in this small body and in a flowery dress.

Music - A Short Way to An Angry AI

"Don't you dare!"

"Initiating music system, 99 Trumpets of..."

"Right I'm up. I'm up." Riley yelled, their syllables short and tense.

Memory - Old Inn Door

Why had the highwayman given this to her, surely that was the opposite of what any self respecting robber would do. She thought maybe he had made a mistake in the darkness, but the memory of his chuckle stayed in her head. She fell asleep clutching the chain in her hand.

Margin - none

Maybe - A Workers Guide to Demonology

A hangover, huh. Maybe I'm not dying after all.

Perhaps - Old Inn Door

Bess refused to step down, standing her ground against the man's cold stare and stale breath, trying to broadcast her innocence through her eyes. "I don't know, Sir. It could be our fireplace perhaps, it's been a little blocked lately."

Possibly - Dragonbreath and Skelefellas

"Hmmm." The noise came as a loud rumble from the dragon's chest, even making the ground under Saph's boots tremble. The dragon let the silence hang for a minute before he reverted to the telepathic system that dragons found more civilised "And what could you possibly have to offer me?"

Likely - A Workers Guide to Demonology

I don't dare to go back inside, it isn't likely to help me with Mission Alpha. I'm also not positive I know how to work a key into a lock. Not that I couldn't do it. I just don't want to seem like I don't know what I'm doing.

#tag games #i refuse to properly format it bc it would take forever

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lanaxoxoxoxoxox · 11 months

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Hello Lana! Could I get a matchup?

I have long dirty blonde/light brown hair, big dark blue/grey eyes, I'm about 5'4, maybe a bit taller (not more than 5'5 though) and I'm bisexual - so you can go wild ;)

I'd say I'm an introvert, but once I'm outside I become an extrovert - with the right people of course, I'm a people pleaser

I play piano, bass, ukulele and guitar (I'm learning bass, ukulele and guitar myself (self taught!!), so I'm not the best at it.. but I have been learning piano in a music school for 7 years now), I LOVE music - cannot do daily tasks without headphones (whish is slightly concerning)

I like drawing, I LOVE rain and storms, my humour is dark and sarcastic, I like autumn, I don't have a favourite color - maybe blue, yellow, red, or green; it honestly depends on the day, i do have a favourite flower! it's the cornflower - the dark blue one in minecraft :')..

I tend to overthink a lot, english is not my first language, so I have a weird accent and grammar mistakes are very common, Im European 💪

Thank you, ily! I have read over this so many times to make sure there are no mistakes (hope I haven't missed any - that would be embarassing)

Also could I be ⭐ anon? (I'm a star >:D)

hello love !! yes ofc, you can have a matchup ♡

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

i would match you with wilbur !!

again, i say this everytime (and i say "i say this everytime" everytime, does that make sense..?)

BUT LITERALLY WILBUR VIBES

like its written all over oh my lord-

wilbur is physically obsessed with your eyes

would just stare at them for hours

he loves how your eyes are dark colored but still so sweet looking

wilbur also loves your very gorg contrast of your hair and eyes

your eyes would also make that man do ANYTHING

need something from the store? he's out to tesco within minutes. want coffee from the local cafe? its on the kitchen counter.

speaking of eyes, it could just be me but i feel like will kinda has really small eyes?? idk might just be me

but it kinda gives off a siren eyes vs doe eyes vibe

im so sorry but he constantly calls you short (in the nicest boyfriend-est way possible)

pats your head when he needs your attention

considering hes about a foot taller than you its really funny when you guys are walking next to eachother

in sorry boys vlogs, if you ever made a star/guest appearance, he would only call you "small guy" even if your role had a name which eventually became a joke in the fandom

for him its a perfect height for him to reach down a tad bit with his l o n g and l a n k y arms to interlock hands with you

also a perfect kissing height for you guys

now for personality time :D !!

wilburs also the quiet kinda type

very much black cat vibes from him

he could stay silent and lay with you for hours and do nothing, as long as hes with you

i also think that wilbur deep down is a people pleaser as well

but if he catches you doing too much people pleasing, he'll stop and talk to you abt it

will be very quiet with you, but can also be very loud with you

"whatever you're feeling, darlin" typa dude

wilbur is also utterly obsessed with your music taste and just your shared trait of music obsession

will make playlists for you and will do listening parties

if you ever need help with any instruments he'll help you straight away !!

you guys having lil jam sesh's

aaaaaa my heart the brainrot is insane

wilbur loves drawing with you, even if he cant draw

you'll do portaits of him and he'll do portaits of you

he tries and attempts to draw either you or somethng that you love very much (for ex, the cornflowers from mc you love :D) and will leave it in your phone case or on ur monitor

you guys listening to rain together from the window and just talking

or sitting on the roof and watching the rain and thunder as it pours down on you

oh, and he also made ghost!bur after you (blue and yellow) after mentioning you enjoy those colors

wilbur LOVES YOUR ACCENT even as a silly british boy (coming from an american)

just like him looking at your eyes for hours, he'll also want to listen to your voice and you ranting for hours.

he finds so much love and comfort in it

yall being the cutest couple overall <3

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

so so so cute oh my god !!! the brainrot is brainrotting rn

sorry this request got written late, been real hectic recently

also yess i would love a new anon !! welcome ⭐ anon <3

thannk you for reading, i hope u enjoyed. please support me by liking, reblogging, following, replying or sending in an ask/request or just popping in to say hello!

love u all mwah xoxoxo

#mcyt fanfic writer #mcyt #fanfiction #dream smp #mcytblr #requests open #wilbur soot #matchup #mcyt matchup #love u 4ever #4eva

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hvlfwygod · 2 years

Text

you and your big mouth | ben&dex

summary: happy pride month! parental advisory: excessive kissing, pet names, low grade smut

A week ago, when he agreed to this night, Ben thought he'd be in a better mood for the night of. This wasn't his usual scene, but he was supposed to try new things, go out of his comfort zone; plus, he liked watching his friends have fun. But here he was, nursing a drink and wishing he was anywhere else. Just one of those days, probably, but with the worst possible timing. The bad mood he woke up with combined with the loud music, the press of bodies, the fact that he could not for the life of him dance like everyone else... it didn't help. (He was grateful, though, that he was at least aware of what was happening to him, instead of just drowning in his emotions without any sense of direction.) Ben didn't want to ruin anyone's night, though, so he babysat a table while his boyfriend was out on the dance floor.

He assumed Ben was off talking to someone or enjoying himself, but, when Dex weaved his way out of the crowd and back to the table they had found, his boyfriend was alone. A frown momentarily took over his face. But, as he slid across the seat to be beside him, wrapping his arms around Ben's middle, it was nothing but a soft smile. "Why are you by yourself?" He hummed in his ear, then promptly nuzzled his face into Ben's neck.

He brightened for a moment when he spotted Dex, but Ben noticed the look on his face. He felt suddenly self conscious, embarrassed that he was so out of place. He was smiling, too, when Dex’s arms went around him, but it didn’t feel very convincing. Ben placed a hand on the back of Dex’s head and sighed, relaxing into the embrace. “I was overwhelmed,” he said, playing with a piece of Dex’s hair with another sigh. “I’m just tired tonight, baby, its okay.”

"You're tired?" He gasped, lifting his head back up as if Ben had said something scandalous. By now, Dex had a much better understanding of his boyfriend's moods. He could tell this wasn't cause for alarm. And, most importantly, it seemed absolutely fixable. "Well," His soft smile turned into a beaming grin, reaching up to brush a thumb across Ben's cheek, "We certainly can't have that." Dex kissed him, hoping to put a smile on his face, "Unfortunately that means you're stuck with me now."

Ben did smile at the kiss, and his stomach fluttered at the attention and affection. But it dropped into a look of mild alarm a moment later. "Nooo," he protested, just as mildly. "Don't sit here all night with me just cause I'm mopey." He fully contradicted himself, though, by leaning into Dex, keeping his hand firmly on the back of his boyfriend's neck. "I'd feel terrible." This he did mean; he'd push Dex back onto the dance floor himself if he had to. "I'll be okay, I promise."

"I know you'll be okay," Dex agreed, already leaning in to kiss him again; This one slower and more intentional than the last. The song changed and the bass got louder, convenient enough that he didn't move his face too far away this time. "Buuuut," His bottom lip jutted out into a pouting face, "What if I want to be here with you?" Dex shrugged, "Besides, who says we're gonna sit here all night?"

His stomach fluttered again, and Ben hesitated before he replied. He tried to decide how much he should read into the kiss, the implication of the words, the way Dex was so close to him. He wasn't going to say no to more kissing, no matter where he was, what mood he was in, but he still felt a little shy. "I mean... If you want to be here..." He gave a half-shrug. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well..." Despite the confident way he grinned, Ben could probably read the slightly blank look on his face. Instead of trying to draw it out, Dex just laughed, dropping his face into the crook of his boyfriend's neck, "I hadn't gotten that far yet." He kissed Ben's shoulder and glanced up at him, "I'm just happy to hang out with you."

Something about that made Ben's heart swell, his throat tighten. He didn't know quite what to say or how to articulate how it made him feel. It was good, mostly, but it came tinged with a little guilt, like he was asking too much. But Dex was volunteering to be here, he reminded himself. Still, Ben felt the familiar pangs in his conscience, which he tried to tune out. "Well, you always make me feel better," he replied, leaning in to kiss him.

"Good." Dex smiled, kissing him back just as easily, "I like seeing you happy." They continued on like this for a while, heads and bodies close together, talking, laughing—harmless canoodling at best as the club roared on around them. But, a slow, steady feeling began to grow; Spreading across his stomach, up through his chest, swirling around his head. Ben had his full, undivided attention, though maybe somewhere along the way he'd lost the plot of what his boyfriend was saying, distracted by how the colored lights reflected off his eyes...and his mouth...and they still had so much of the night ahead of them...

Dex was already holding one of Ben's hands, and he brought it up to his lips, kissing the rose tattoo on the back of it, his palm, then resting his cheek against it. "You're so cute, baby." He hummed, this time the intention behind his voice crystal clear.

"Am I?" A new smile broke over his face. Ben knew this moment had been coming. He had called it after that first elongated kiss. Dex always took his time getting to this point, like he was waking up, or losing his resolve. Gradually his eyes would go soft-focus, his smile got dreamier. Tonight, too, he saw the moment his boyfriend's mind started to wander; he'd seen it a million times, so it was easy to spot. But it didn't make him any more prepared for how fucking charming Dex could be. Without even trying, he— his expression, the wanting tone of his voice— made Ben melt. He almost, almost forgot that they were in the middle of a nightclub. "At least tonight wasn't a total bust for me."

"Please," Dex rolled his eyes, contradictory to the smile on his face. He didn't even have it in him to finish whatever thought or joke he was going to respond with. Still holding his hand, he gently tugged Ben closer, finally pulling him into that kiss he'd been thinking about. Throwing yourself fully in without warning was never his style. It was that slow burn: taking your time and enjoying each moment, reveling in the feeling for as long as possible. And making out? Perfect for all of that. Possibly one of his favorite activities. Ben knew all of this, and so he fell into it easily. Soon enough, Dex was getting lost in his hands and his hair and his tongue and his mouth. "You're also so hot," He sighed, moving to kiss along his jaw, "And I love you," Dex smiled, "If I haven't said that yet tonight either."

His breath was coming in heavier, now, and his heart was beating hard and his lips were tingling. He just smiled as Dex pressed his mouth against his jawline, stupid from kisses. I know, he wanted to say. You never let me forget. But he didn't want to cry right now, he wanted to keep kissing his boyfriend. "I love you, too," he said as he turned his face toward Dex again, and kissed him deeply. Ben allowed himself a few seconds of pure emotion before his kiss got hungrier. He grabbed Dex by the hips and pulled himself as close as possible.

He groaned, swooning under the kiss and Ben's hands on him. And that was signal enough, the burning inside of him growing into a raging wildfire. If Ben was hungry, Dex was absolutely starving. He kissed him back just as deeply, every move slow, deliberate, sensual as his arms snaked around Ben's back and behind his head. Leaning in, he lowered them to lay across the booth. Maybe they barely fit along the sticky, plastic vinyl, but, he couldn't care less. Dex couldn't take his mouth off him. Traveling from Ben's lips and down his neck, he took his sweet time, letting his hands roam and hips roll, the bass from the music pounding in his ears as his teeth grazed along his pulse.

Nothing about Dex in this moment was sudden by any stretch, but it was still a surprise. It felt like it took several minutes to get Ben on his back; minutes filled with Dex's mouth and breath and weight and smell and touch. Ben could stay in this moment for the rest of the night, he thought. But there were people just a few feet away, he reminded himself. How much longer could this last? His boyfriend was pressed on top of him, warm and beautiful and biting at his skin, and what was Ben thinking about? Someone laughed, and then he remembered again though the haze of desire. There was a palm travelling over his stomach, legs hooked around his own, a mouth pressed eagerly against his throat. He could barely keep his thoughts straight. "Dex," he breathed out, grabbing the back of his head. “Are you crazy?"

It was a valid question. But, the way Ben had practically moaned the words made his head spin, and Dex could barely pull together a thought outside of how badly he wanted to hear that again. Kisses trailed back up Ben's neck, a low, pleased hum coming from the base of his throat, "Probably." Dex grinned, kissing the spot just below his ear. But, the last thing he wanted was for this to be too much. He moved back to Ben's mouth, another deep, hungry kiss as a hand ran through his hair. "No one is paying attention to us, darlin'," He added, not sure if the words came off earnest and calming or desperate and begging. Maybe it was a bit of both. "I promise."

"That's not fair," Ben complained. His head dropped back and Ben took the opportunity to lick his lips, catch his breath. "You can't do that to me and expect me to act rational." A breathy laugh, betraying his nerves. He pushed his hips into Dex's and made another frustrated sound, then pulled himself into another kiss. He matched Dex's energy as best as he could while his heart slammed inside his chest. He was nervous, but the thought of stopping right now felt worse than whatever might happen. "I trust you, baby," he said once their lips parted. Ben's fingers found the buttons of Dex's shirt, and he undid two, giving himself enough room to press his palm against the bare skin of his chest.

"Gods, you're sexy." He moaned into Ben's mouth before kissing him again. With the official stamp of approval, he allowed himself to indulge even more, definitely more than he ever would in public. But, clearly it was working, feeling Ben begin to melt under his touch. And after a little while, his hands were everywhere they shouldn't be, Ben's leg hooked around his hip, and Dex was overwhelmed with desire, about to attempt something possibly risky—until his phone vibrated. It'd gone off in his pocket earlier, but he'd ignored it. Now, it went off again. And again. A continuous slew of notifications, enough to bring him pause. "Fuckin' hell," Dex grumbled, a frustrated noise escaping his mouth as he peeled himself off of his boyfriend, adjusting himself as he sat back up and retrieved the phone from his pocket.

carly: i love y'all so much and i'm so glad you're having fun but we would like to use the table too lmao carly: mal said she'd get you guys an uber if you're that desperate carly: like bless your heart but we can see you carly: dex carly: dude carly: my guy carly: i'm gonna keep texting you until you get up

Somewhere along the way the rest of the buttons on his shirt had come undone, and he didn't bother to remedy it. Dex ran a hand through his hair, then dragged it down his face, like he was slowly trying to regain consciousness. But, all he could think about was everything he wasn't doing to his boyfriend right now, and how badly he wanted to. "Our lovely friends want their table back." His smile at Ben was apologetic. Putting his phone away without a response, he reached for Ben's hand again, "Looks like we're gonna have to relocate."

His shirt was pulled up as high as it could go without being pulled over his head, and the collar of his flannel was fanned wide around his neck. Dex's mouth had been somewhere on his stomach. Ben's hands had been in Dex's hair, his eyes half closed, when he paused and sat up. Ben's face fell, then a moment later, when he caught on, turned red— more than it already was. "Oh, gods," he groaned, suddenly embarrassed, covering his face with his hand. Ben begrudgingly pushed himself up; now that they'd paused, it started to dawn on him what exactly they were doing. Sensation flooded his system even more, and he felt a little dizzy. Ben let out a tiny laugh, uncertain and shaky. "Where?" he asked before putting his brow against Dex's shoulder.

He contemplated this, kissing the top of Ben's head. "We could go home. But that means waiting the whole way back. Or, we find somewhere on the way back." His fingers began to lightly trace up and down his boyfriend's back. Dex knew he'd already stretched the limits of Ben's comfort zone, and this might be a step too far. But, his whole body was still reeling, mouth still warm and tingling from where it'd been all over his skin, so, why not? "Or..." His voice lowered, conspiratorial as he leaned in to speak in Ben's ear, "If people aren't hooking up in your bathroom, you're not really doing this whole nightclub thing correctly." Dex kissed his cheek, "I'll do whatever you want to, baby."

Ben's stomach flipped. He heard the words in his ear, but he also felt the sound vibrating through Dex's body, reminding him of how close they were, how hard it would be to untangle from each other. The low rumble of his voice, was so unbearably sexy, Ben almost wanted to ignore their friends entirely and pull Dex on top of him again. But actually doing that? Indulging himself beyond the wild fantasy running through his head? It felt impossible. Ben bought himself a moment by nuzzling into Dex's neck, rolling against his hips. "Fuck," he laughed, digging his fingers into his back. "I've never done anything like this before."

It was impossible to stop the pleased whimper from escaping Dex's mouth as Ben's fingers dug into his skin. Something about the shy innocence was so endearing, Ben's voice and breath against his neck igniting a new, determined fire in the pit of his stomach. Clearly, he had a precedent to set. His hands dragged down Ben's spine and slipped into his back pockets. "Then let me be the first." He purred, low, dangerous, pressing a trail of kisses along his shoulder. Dex slid a hand under Ben's chin, lifting his head so he could see his face again. The look on his face was devilish, hungry, eager, taking in every inch of him he could, "I'll make it worth it, baby," He grinned, brushing a slow thumb across Ben's bottom lip, "Promise."

He was really going to do this. That was the first thing Ben thought while Dex buried his face into his shoulder. He was really going to let his boyfriend take him into a bathroom at a nightclub and... This was happening. Ben's nerves were on fire, even as he met Dex's steady gaze. He didn't know how Dex did it. He was so forward, so self-assured and confident. He smiled like he already knew what Ben was going to say. And despite his racing heart, Ben knew, too. Eventually he had to break eye contact. Ben stared at the ceiling, a huge grin on his face. "Fuck," he said again. He gripped his boyfriend's shoulders. "Fuck. Yes, okay."

The grin on Dex's face grew into something more excited, pulling his boyfriend in for another kiss. "Amazing." He breathed out, mouth still burning, but able to pull some semblance of himself together as he helped Ben off of his lap. As they slid out of the booth, he had at least the decency to do up a couple of the buttons on his shirt, make it seem like a fashion choice. Immediately he took Ben's hand, casually weaving their way through the clusters of people.

He'd only been to Nyxx a couple of times, so the layout of the place was still fuzzy. But, luck continued to be on their side, spotting the soft, glowing light of a hallway in the distance, exactly where he'd remembered. Dex stopped just before the hallway to face Ben, letting go of his hand to grab his hips, pull him in close, another kiss because he simply couldn't help himself. "We just wanna be quiet," He started, as if he'd clearly done this before (he had), "'Cause everything echoes."

As he suspected, the few minutes they had to spend not wrapped around each other were unbearable. Worse, it felt like everyone was staring at him. He imagined eyes following them at every turn, even though no one spared him a second glance. Or a first glance. By the time they found the hallway, his anxiety had spiked again. Not enough to make him stop what they were doing, but enough for him to feel weirdly bad about it. Enough to put the tension back into his shoulders. He happily moved closer to Dex, leaning into this kiss, letting it bring a smile to his face. He didn't want to hold onto this feeling, so he ignored it as best he could. He kept his hands against Dex's ribs while he spoke, and laughed. "Me? You're telling me that?" Ben asked, pressing against him. "If we get caught, it's going to be because of you and your big mouth." Ben leaned back before Dex could take another kiss, encouraging him to keep moving.

He had gone in for another kiss, and the tease from his boyfriend left him grinning, thrilled, maybe more into it than he should be. "Roast me more often, damn." Dex laughed, pulling Ben into the hallway. Finally able to see his boyfriend's flushed, handsome face under normal lights, he leaned in, not for a kiss, but to put a mouth to his ear, a filthy comeback that didn't bear repeating. Before Ben could even formulate a response besides the look on his face, Dex bumped the door open with his hip and pulled them into the bathroom.

It was fancier than other bathrooms: wallpaper, moody lighting. But, that's all Dex even noticed. He didn't pay attention to if anyone else was in there. Truthfully, He didn't care. And he didn't give either of them time to think about it, eyes only on Ben as he slid into an open stall and flipped the lock behind them. His whole body electric with desire as he pressed Ben against the wall, finally kissing him with reckless abandon.

It was crowded with both of them in here. Before doing anything, Dex was practically on top of him, and he felt the wall at his back already. He hadn't thought about this, or the knee-jerk, involuntary reaction he would have. Ben's breath caught abruptly in his throat, but then Dex was on him and he made a surprised sound, then laughed because he'd already messed up the being quiet part. Paradoxically, Dex getting closer actually helped, demanding so much of his attention he barely had room for his traitorous mind. Still, he turned his head to the side and pushed himself off the wall an inch. "Hang on," he practically whispered, chuckling despite the part of his brain still blaring alarm bells. He shrugged out of his flannel, pushing against Dex as he let it fall off his shoulders. The air felt cool against his arms. Ben smiled into Dex's mouth as he gave him another kiss. "Can you hang this up?" he asked, looking toward the hook on the back of the door.

He paused when Ben did, worrying for a fraction of a second that something might be wrong. But, then Ben was chuckling and smiling and kissing him again and Dex couldn't help but chuckle too, amused at the simply efficient request. He kissed him again—hot, intense, still reeling—before taking the shirt and hanging it up, "Ben," Dex whispered in his ear, grinning like a desperate, little fool, "I'll do literally anything you tell me to right now." His lips found his neck again, traveling down to his collarbone, hands sliding back to where they were on his hips as he pulled himself against him.

An image seared through his mind. Dex, pushing him further up the wall. Ben, wrapping his legs around his hips. He could feel himself melting, losing his ability to think clearly. The tight quarters started to feel less oppressive, more irrelevant, the short metal wall to his side useful, maybe, for leverage. Ben didn't want to think so hard about it anymore. He lost himself to Dex's scent, his body, the pressure of his kiss and his hands and his knee sliding up Ben's thigh. He returned the energy, escalating to small bites (he was going to wake up with so many hickeys tomorrow, and needed to make sure Dex had to deal with them too), and roaming, grasping hands. Eventually, they broke again, Ben panting and short of breath. His face was flushed, his brow dotted with sweat. "What were you going to do earlier?" he asked, placing his palms against Dex's chest. While he was there, he unbuttoned his shirt again, then rested his hands at the waistband of his jeans. Where were they again? Ben didn't even care. The music was a distant bass that only seemed to egg him on. "Before we got interrupted."

As Ben had predicted, Dex absolutely caved first, moaning a curse as Ben touched him and bit at his skin. And by the time they pulled away his whole body felt dizzy, intoxicated despite not having a single drink that night. He grinned at Ben's words; It wasn't a question, it was a request. Something he so greedily wanted to oblige. Dex slid his hands under Ben's shirt, thumbs tracing the skin above the waist of his jeans. He could feel Ben pressed against him, and he wanted it desperately. "Hmm," Dex hummed dangerously, pushing Ben's shirt up just enough as he got on his knees, "Something with my big mouth." Once again he kissed along his stomach, trailing down the warm skin as he began to unbutton his boyfriend's jeans.

He laughed again, but quietly, swallowing the sound while he bit down on his knuckles. Gods, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, even though Dex was pulling at the waistband of boxers, his mouth on a dip in Ben’s hips, achingly slow and sensual. His heart felt heavy, but in the best way: aching with adoration, full to bursting. “Exactly,” he replied, smiling huge. He felt ignited, alive, wide awake and present and so, so glad he didn’t stay home. “I love you,” he said. His head rolled against the wall and his hand reached for the top of Dex’s head, fingers tangling into his curls. “You and…” He trailed off when he stopped being able to think clearly, shaky breaths tumbling out of him the whole time.

#ben x dex #bendex13 #ben #you and your big mouth #we are saying GAY RIGHTS very loudly

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falsebooles123 · 5 months

Text

Confessions of a Recovering Genre-Phobic 1/13/24

Hey Whores, This Week was the middle of a giant blizzard through most of central and southern oregon. Did I get any snow? No so fuck the weather too. Anyway heres some music I listened to.

Emoji Antique (2015) - Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox

Genre: Jazz Length: (12 Tracks)

Figured I'd start this week off on an easy peesey album. When I first made this list in 2019 I added a lot of what I would now consider twee music. I made a point to cull out the various Movie Soundtracks, Comedy Albums, and other 'novelty' music from the list before the new years. To underline my adoration for this style in my cabernet/jazz era I also include the solo albums for Casey Abram and Hailey Reinhart on my watchlist, (listenlist?).

I will say that album despite it coming out directly before the last PMJ album we reviewed is subsequental lesser.

But I feel the need as a reviewer to properly anaylsis my own discomfort with the work. I will say that my ira with this album is fully subtextual right? Objectively the jazz in this album are good. These are great singers and they do a great job but PMJ is not an original work, its a cover band which means that are approuch to listening to this music is colored by us actually knowing the original work and are feelings about the original music to begin with. I think its also important to recognize that PMJ works best as a a live band. My initial interest in the band was from watching there youtube videos which are filmed as a chamber set often with a central Chanteuse character drawing attention center stage. It very much is playing off of the performance style of these genres of music and it works incredible well. These people are hot, they sing well, and they have an incredible fantastic stage presence. It what makes this songs have a lasting impact in my opinion. Listening to a purely audio version of these songs is a detriment and honestly the tangible albums have also felt a little cashgrabby. I mean they released four albums in 2015. Four of them. its really doesn't feel like these were artistic attempts and putting together the creme de la creme of there chambe sessions it feels much more like a bunch of singles they ripped to cd so that they had something to sell at merch tables.

Bad Romance and Barbie Girl are both fantastic stage performances and its truly sad that you can't see Sarah Reich in her footwork with a literally cd of this.

I feel like my thoughts are all over the place so I'm gonna try my best to make my critiques cognent. Why not a numbered list.

Lyricism

Famarity

Production

Lyricism

The opener of this album is All About That Bass (feat. Morgan James, Haley Reinhart, Ariana Savalas & Casey Abrams). Its meant as this fun, feel-good, pop number and it is and so is the original. The issue for me is that I just don't like Trainers message in it. this review is too long to get to deep in the paint about it but Trainer centers who own love and self-accemptance exclusively on whether or not shes fuckable to men and theres also quite a bit of skinny shaming in it. with some very weak lip-service and yes this song came out way before much of the culteral conversation over body positivity and body nutrality and all that crap but It still sits in the pantheon of other girlboss songs like 'before he cheats' and 'you belong to me' that have a kind of toxic feminitiy to. It rubs me the wrong way.

This is the two edged sword of PMJ because on one hand the torch singing style there known for focuses on the lyricism and songs that really sing on this album Creep, Barbie Girl I Believe In A Thing Called Love, and Only One have fantastic lyrics. Its acts as an appreciation to the craft of songwriting. Contrary-wise it makes the weak lyricism of other songs that much more thread-bare. If 80% of your song and mixing is focused on the words they have to be good or at least they pale in comparision to the tent-poles of there work. The enthralling torch songs that made me first fall in love with there work.

Familarity

So heres the thing right. If you have a cover band you want to cover songs that people know right? Usually this isn't a problem they choose a lot of big, and I mean like huge, top 100 pop songs. Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, Bruno Mars. Songs that would be immediately recognizable and beloved. For fucks sake this album ends with a pared-down solely recreation of Take Me To Church. They play crowd pleasers. So lets play a game name who sings these songs.

Such Great Heights

I Believe in A Thing Called Love

That was The Postal Service and The Darkness. Oh uh yes these were top 100 hits in there specific genres in 2003. On further research I have heard Such Great Heights. Mostly because I really love 2000s indie pop but the main issue with this is that I don't recognize the song from the arrangement. The arrangement is fantastic its a great song but its not recognizable the same experience. And I don't want to act like thats a bad thing that an adaptation is *too* tranformative. At the same time I feel like we should question what is the point of a cover band doing a cover that nobody recognizes?

Ok Round Two

Only One

Poison

That was Kanye West and Rita Ora!!!!

Ok so heres the vibe. These songs are both from around early 2015, and were fairly popular on the radio at that time. In fact, Rita Ora released her single only two weeks before PMJ covered it. Neither or these songs to the best of my understanding had any staying power, (I for one had never heard of them before despite me being in my peak listening to the radio era), they didn't even make the top 100 for that year. If your wondering all the other contemporary songs on this album are on there. Its hard not to see this as Scott Bradlee's hearing a critical acclaimed song on the radio and then immediately turning around and making an arrangement for it for the clicks. Which don't get me wrong that was 85% of the trending videos on youtube at the time but it still acts as a burr in my side when looking at this from a artistic perspective. Because once again these songs don't sound like the original which brings us to my third point.

Production

To keep this slightly brief lets discuss. Paper Planes - M.I.A. You know the one its the song with the hook that goes "bang bang bang cash register and takes your money". The production on the song is fantastic. The beat is dreamy and gauzy, her vocals are muted but lathegic like shes in another room. Its a sound that is distinctive it feels like walking down the street in a 90s action film. right with that very specific california sunny filter that makes everything piss yellow. thats what the song sounds like and its because of the mixing and sound production because pop music is pretty complicated to make these days. It tends to be a very layered sound that what a producer is.

Big Band music can also be incredible complex and layered. Theres a lot of feeling that can be created between harmony and melody and procussion. These are two bad bitches that shouldn't be pitted against each other.

The issue for me with this song is that the percussion fucking sucks. The Paper Planes Hook. The part of the song that is so goddamn iconic is replaced by a paltry stacccoto brass section. The fuck. That is not in the original spirit of the song. Its one thing to take a fast-past hiphop song and sing it slow and bluesey, its another to listen to well-produced beats and then shit your goddamn pants at the percussionist section.

If I was given the task to incorporate these non-diegetic sounds into a orchestial style there are ways to do it. Large Snare Sounds, stomping, or you could do what my highschool theater class did and band two 2x4 together. Trust me it sounds like shots fired. Also here me out you get a vintage cash register place in on the table front and center and have your procussionist literally just open it during the hook. It would be cute it would be fun, it is so entirely within the realm, style, and humor of PMJ that what we did get is honestly kinda insulting. I just don't like the production on this song and I think it shows a lack of polish in the arrangement.

Now that I have been alittle bitch for longer then should be allowed. I want to say that my criticism of this album is entirely intellectual. It was fine it was a perfectly fine album.

The reason why I am writing these blogs is to think more critically about music about writing and about criticism. So me being a little bitch is me practising being a little bitch for money!!!!! HIIIII give me moneyh!11 pelase. This is not intended as a serious review. This is a writing project so take it as a grain of salt.

3/5

Dream Your Life Away (2014) - Vance Joy

Genre: Indie Folk, Indie Pop Length 49:00 (13 Tracks)

If your famalier with Vance Joy its most likely through his break-out single 'Riptide', a folksy acoustic balad with esoteric lyrics. Also an absolutely fantastic music video, If Radley Mertzger saw it he would cum.

Looking at the rest of his set on this album you get a very similar energy. Hozier-esque Vance Joy uses this indie folk stylings to sing sad ballads about love.

It feels like the insecurties you have when you began to date a beautiful person, it feels like the cold blue light of an newly empty apartment, it feels like watching somebody you love sleep and wondering what you did to be so goddamn lucky.

Its a very meloncholic album, something you put on when your alone and lonely. Good Shit.

4/5

Hug Of Thunder (2017) - Broken Social Scene

Genre: Indie Rock, Baroque Pop Length: 52:19 (12 Tracks)

I first listened to BSS entirely because it was off-handedly mentioned by a bunch of hipsters in the webcomic Questionable Content. You know back when it was about Jeff Jacques self-insert being emotional abused by a big titty hot chick and not existential trans-humanist conversations and milfs with fat cow tits, (I refuse to explain).

Hug of Thunder is the Fifth Studio Album from Broken Social Scene, which is apparently a musical collective with a rather large member list. This album has 23 listed musicans on it if that tells you anything.

I'm not great at describing sounds but its layered, indie rock that creates an almost soundscape type quality. IDK its moody indie stuff I'm bad at this and thats ok.

4/5

Halloway EP (2016) - Tessa Violet

Genre: Dark Pop Length: 16:52 (5 Tracks)

I remember when I first heard this album. It was 2019 and I was going through a major depressive episode. I was cold, both emotional and physically, and suffering through the most incredible emo of heartbreak. bitch was going through it.

Tessa refers to this album as her 'dark pop' album and that is understable. Theres a lot of heartbreak in the album and while some songs like 'not over you' are a feel-good anthem there is a certain rawness to Haze and On my Own that I still come back to all these years later.

This is an important album to me and for how much its forgotten by others I still have no choice but to love it.

4/5

Primordial Archive (2023) - Elliot Lee

Genre: Alt Pop Length: 48 Minutes (16 Tracks)

Elliot Lee has been a name I feel like I have always been famalier with. While its easy to compare her to artists like Jasmin Bean and Melanie Martinez who also play with creepy cute imagery and discuss themes of obsession and mental illness. Lee's work to me has always felt much more connected to internet culture. She makes the type of pop music that you would draw animatics of your OCs to.

Her work is angry, confessional, spoken word at times and she layers it over an almost nightcore or glitchcore sound. Electronica that is destinctly 2000s in sound with distorted vocals that lend an almost bluesy sound to her words. Its a strong distinction from comparable artists in the Alt Pop scene.

Primordial Archive is a fix-up album from Photo Finish Records. Putting together a variety of her earlier songs with a new Single 'Funny Bunny'. I was original concerned with cohesion with this album but on relisten in gelled a lot more for me. Lee has spent the last who knows many years putting out singles so when it comes together it turns out OOPS all bangers. Theres some fantastic tracks on this album and I think it manages to show her range quite well.

Funny Bunny the signiture single on the album is equally fantastic. You have lee's signiture confessional lyrics that are .... a little too relatable if I'm being honest over what can only be described as a DDR dance beat. Its recognizable Elliot Lee and its a damn good pop song.

4/5

Anyway Whores I'm not sure what tomarrow brings but I have to imagine its more music.

#diary #music #emoji antique #Dream Your Life Away #Hug of Thunder #Halloway #Primordial Archive

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kingsvk · 6 months

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Ivan King Kráľ - interview (December 2023)

How are you doing? How does it feel having this epic retrospective album come out?

IVAN KING KRÁĽ - Retrospective 1993 - 2023. This is the title of a personal digipak CD compilation - release date October 31, 2023 by Sliptrick records (LTA). This compilation charts my 30 years on the music scene as a composer, keyboardist and lyricist. I have been present at everything important that has happened on the Slovak metal scene. I have influenced bands like Protest, Editor, Mystic Death, Galadriel, Lunatic Gods, participated in recording of their debut albums as a member of the band or as a guest. Over time, these names have become legends. With my music project King SVK, I keep the imaginary metal flag flying.

When I recall the events of the past, I realize how deeply they have affected my being. I know that the past was not an illusion and through the present I will draw from it the knowledge, strength and inspiration to shape a successful future. It is wonderful to become aware of yourself, your words and actions - your SELF. To evaluate whether dreams, desires have come true. The past must therefore be seen as a stepping stone.

2. Where did the idea originate? It reminds me of how I put together my "favorites playlist" of musicians and all their works.

Exactly. Something similar is going on with this compilation. The goal was not for me to become a collector of my own CDs, but for my work over the last 30 years to be sorted out by the fans, or made known to the general public.

3. Let's start with the Protest song, "Abandoned Love," this was such a unique album, the artwork as well- what was it like being a part of this?

The term - artwork is very apt - it describes a lot. Since the beginning of my career I have been trying to make valuable material within music. Protest was created in 1989. Death metal and keyboards - this combination is fascinating. We were influenced by bands like The Gathering, Nocturnus. CD What For Name, When Hunanity Is Dying... (1995) was one of the first in the death metal genre in Slovakia and for some time the best seller on Metal Age Productions (SVK). The lyrics of this song were written by me. The band managed to release 3 studio albums.

4. How did you come to guest on the debut full length for Galadriel?

It's an interesting life story. It was 1994 and I was working as a teacher at the Secondary vocational school of polygraphy in Bratislava - Rača. This was attended by a then 16-year-old pupil Dodo Ďatel (vocal & bass guitar). We talked about music and became friends. He mentioned to me that he founded the band Trojan Warrior, which he later renamed tolkien's GALADRIEL (1995). Spontaneously, the decision to collaborate was made. I helped my friends considerably by playing the keys. Also with valuable advice during the recording & mixing of the songs. Empire Of Emptiness (1997) was released on Unknown Territory (UK). The band has released 7 studio albums. The musical direction was doom - dark metal.

5. Mystic Death was more of a change in style, with the black metal sound what was it like working with them?

I like black metal and I try to incorporate its elements into King SVK's work even today. When I heard that the agile Metal Age productions label is planning to release an album by another Martin band, I was intrigued. I had created sequencer intros at that time and I was wondering how to use them. When I offered the guys to use them, the deal was immediately done. During rehearsals we adapted everything as needed. I helped a lot in arranging the songs. Some of the songs were long, the riffs were pointlessly repetitive. That's why they were edited - shortened. The Voices Of The Obscure World album was released in 1997. I remember Blackmoon's review in Spark magazine (CZ). He shouted in amazement: "This is food! Great keyboards, those melodies!" Big Boss, frontman of ROOT, had this to say about the band: "In my opinion, MYSTIC DEATH is the only band from the CS scene whose music sounds like black metal." The album has not been surpassed to this day and has become a cult hit. However, the main reasons for the band's break-up were: personal problems and lack of time to devote to the band. Track Deathbreath In The Northen Sky is included on the exclusive compilation Ivan King Kráľ - Retrospective 1993 - 2023 at https://kingsvk.bandcamp.com/.

6. Let's discuss Editor and their place in Slovakian thrash metal history. Why was "Escape" chosen as a cover?

The beginnings of EDITOR (1988) were marked by Thrash metal, Hardcore and the band was one of the pioneers of this musical style in Slovakia. Only Milan "Doctor" Jakubík (vocals) remained from the original line-up. The group has released 8 studio albums to date. Metallica's cover song Escape was exclusively recorded in Shaark studio, Bzenec for TAGA records (CZ). It was released as a compilation CD, as a tribute to Cliff Burton - 10 Years After... (1996). I participated in the recording as a guest musician and friend of the band. Escape is one of the underrated tracks, this version makes a fresh impression. It is part of the exclusive Ivan King Kráľ - Retrospective 1993 - 2023 compilation at https://kingsvk.bandcamp.com/.

7. I was always a fan of Lunatic Gods and appreciated the original sound and creativity of the band- how did you help establish their career and get them going?

While recording Inhuman & Insensible (1996) in the studio, it began to dawn on us that an unusual record was being made. We put the energy from our fans into further work and the second album, Sitting By The Fire (1998), was born. As time went on, differences of opinion surfaced among the band members as to what direction the band should take in the future. I was pushing for a radical move upwards, but this was not met with understanding. I was disappointed. I felt at the time we had a chance to break into the metal elite. In 2000 I left the band after 7 years. The decision was not easy. The band has released 8 studio albums. Today L.G.'s work is oriented towards Slavic folk-metal. There are two original members. The drummer Martin 'Marthus' Škaroupka (Cradle Of Filth) is an interesting addition.

8. You worked with Pavel 'Hirax' & Fero 'Psycho' in different bands please inform our readers what it was like collaborating with them?

Yeah. I must commend you for this knowledge. These bands were Editor, Protest and Bestialit - Lunatic Gods. Hirax (guitar) & Psycho (drums) were self-taught and inseparable friends from the Priekopa housing estate in Martin. They came from a bunch who were fans of metal music and together they used to buy records of metal bands. In the 1980s they used to go to stock exchanges and buy vinyl records. Hirax wrote about this time and the different experiences - he published a book: Always ready! I put together an internet project: The history of Martin's metal in interviews (1985 - 2010).

The musical collaboration with the two of them was good. They took me in and together we plunged headlong into making music. Gradually we got better and better. We had a good momentum going, we were great together. Personally, I wanted to make punchy, fast songs with keys: something in the style of Slayer. Hirax, on the other hand, had a plan to start making complex, multi-minute epic songs (he liked progressive rock - a band from Brno, Progres 2). In 2000 we had a difference of opinion on this issue. Today Hirax has his own band called RAMCHAT (Pagan death metal). Psycho is no longer musically active, he lives a solitary civilian life and carries his soul with him in a leather bag.

9. Then of course we have the King SVK albums how would you describe your work and the sound you have established?

The album New Aeon was not made in haste. A lot of time and effort was devoted to the arrangement of the songs, sound direction and mixing. The songs from this album have the potential to win many fans. All the reviews for the album have been fantastic. The album was released on CD by Sliptrick records, an Italian label based in Latvia, on 22 October 2019. The possibilities to work with the sound are great, guitarist Norbert Ferencz has a lot of credit for the final sound version. We want to continue to be original in this.

10. I love the New Aeon album- have you written new songs since its release? When will you have new music coming out?

New Aeon is a great album and to top it will be a challenge. There are 10 original songs and 2 covers by Death: Voice Of The Soul & Crystal Mountain. The themes of the lyrics will deal with Greek mythology, WW2. The new, 4th in line album will be released in 2025. It will be preceded by a single with a music video. I'm currently in talks with singer Tim 'Ripper' Owens as a guest vocalist. Hopefully a deal will come together and he will agree to collaborate.

11. Looking back on your career - what are you most proud of? What is your biggest accomplishment so far?

I've performed at big festivals, e.g. Dynamo North Power Jam Litoměřice (1998). I have played 200 live shows with Lunatic Gods and Metal Hammer CS magazine named the best metal band in the Czech republic and Slovakia (1997). To date I have a total of 9 full-length albums with various bands. With the King SVK project I am constantly going up in quality.

To conclude the quote from Nikola Tesla: "Everything is light. And think of this: The man who ever existed did not die."

#kingsvk #Ivankingkráľ #Ivankingkral #metal

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truefolktv · 2 years

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Artist Interview: Matt Krahula & The Nightmare River Band

Matt Krahula & the Nightmare River Band is a New York City Folk Rock/Americana outfit whose songs are self described as being about “love, loss, pain and drinking… not necessarily in that order”. We caught up with Matt to discuss his background, the album, its recording process, and the band’s future plans.

THE INTERVIEW:

True Folk TV: Do you remember the first time music made an impression on you? Matt Krahula: I’m pretty sure this isn’t a memory of mine, but my parents told me that when I was really little they used to play “The Boy From New York City” by The Ad Libs and I would dance in my car seat. So if we’re looking for the first impression, that’s probably it. The first time I saw an upright bass was a big moment too. I was in 3rd grade. The school music teacher brought all of the orchestral string instruments into our classroom to drum up interested in joining orchestra the following year. When I saw the upright bass, I knew that was the instrument for me. We just had to convince my parents it would fit in the car.

TFTV: When did music solidify itself as something you would pursue as your livelihood? MK: Throughout high school I was a member of The Empire State Youth Orchestra, an elite high school orchestra in upstate New York. It draws the top high school musicians from all over upstate New York, Vermont, and Massachusetts. It gave me a look at what it might be like being a professional musician. When I was going through my junior year of high school, it became obvious that if I went to college for anything else, music would be taking a backseat. I really wasn’t interested in seeing that happen. I applied to a bunch of conservatories and ended up getting really great results. After a bunch of debate between Hart School, Boston University, and Purchase College, I settled on Purchase College, where I was very fortunate to study under Tim Cobb, the Principle bassist for the New York Philharmonic.

TFTV: You studied classical upright bass in college. The music you make with the Nightmare River Band is slightly removed from the classical world, what was that transition like? MK: Going to Purchase played a huge role in that transition. Purchase College has a fantastic Studio Composition and Studio Production Program. It made me realize that being a classical musician wasn’t the only route available. While I was practicing upright bass, there was a whole other section of the Conservatory working on perfecting their studio techniques, forming bands, and honing their songwriting skills. Since every band is always looking for a bass player, I ended up falling in with this crowd almost immediately and spent the next 7 years touring and performing as the bass player in the synth pop band, Fire Flies. When Fire Flies parted ways in 2008, I started a new project, which became The Nightmare River Band.

TFTV: What draws you to this create this roots-inspired sound, as opposed to other genres? MK: I think my connection to roots music comes from my parents. When I was a little kid, they used to play a lot of John Denver, Momma’s and the Poppa’s, and Peter, Paul and Mary. One of my first concerts was John Denver at Saratoga Performing Arts Center. We had really good seats and I remember my Mom being excited because her music teacher from high school was on stage playing fiddle. Years later, I was on the way into NYC with the lead singer of Fire Flies, and he played me Cat Stevens, “Tea For The Tillerman”. I knew instantly that I wanted to make music like that.

TFTV: While writing songs is there a particular mental, or emotional state that you’re hoping to pass on to the listener? MK: I think it varies from song to song. I usually try to capture the emotion I’m feeling at that particular moment in time. I think more times than not, a similar emotion is passed on to the listener. TFTV: You built a home studio space to make this record - how different do you think Stormville would be if it were made through a more “traditional” recording process, rather than in the self-directed environment you created for yourselves? MK: For one, I don’t think it would be as good. Since we had unlimited time and no budget constraints, we were really able to take our time and find the album that we wanted to make. We tracked around twenty songs and then cut it down to eleven. Some of the songs were arranged and recorded with several different versions to choose from. It was a really great experience having the freedom to work this way. Also, the bulk of the band lived in the house while we were making the record, so we just woke up and played music every day. It kept us in sync on the project and there were very few distractions.

TFTV: The album is named after the town where it was recorded - do you think that the geographical context left a sonic signature on the album? MK: I think the atmosphere of the house played a huge roll. We were in a pretty isolated farm house. There aren’t a whole lot of things to do in “Stormville” so we spent most of the time at the house together.

TFTV: There is a lot of varied instrumentation on the album - how did the musical community at large outside of your core membership play a part in marking this record? MK: So the core band on this record was myself (Guitar, vocals, bass, mandolin), Seth Faulk (drums, percussion, vocals), and Wil Farr (Electric Guitars, Vocals). At the beginning of the record, we made the decision that we wouldn’t be force feeding parts to other musicians. We wanted to bring in players that we could trust to bring their unique sound to the album. The first recruit we brought in was Todd Caldwell (touring organist for CSNY). I really didn’t know what to expect. Seth had told me he was the best of the best. We watched him shred through 8 songs that day and I knew we had made the right choice. We left the session feeling like we were starting to have an album as opposed to a group of ideas masquerading as songs. So we followed that same path with the rest of the musicians and I think it worked out better than we could have imagined.

TFTV: Were there any mishaps, or magic moments of note during the process of making Stormville? MK: There is one moment that I always come back to. About a year before we started working on the album, our drummer Seth’s mother passed away after a long battle with cancer. When she passed, he inherited his childhood home in Stormville, the house we would eventually set up to track the record. My grandmother had passed around the same time as his mother, and I channeled my feelings into a song called “First Christmas” (Without You). We started working on that track late one night. It was dark outside and dimly lit in the live room. We ended up playing through the track once. We made it through the whole song in one take. When we looked around, everyone in the room was in tears, including the producer. We weren’t sure if we had gotten the take, but we were sure we couldn’t play through it again. We wrapped for the night and when we woke up the next morning, we listened on playback and knew we had captured a special moment. Although “First Christmas” did not end up on “Stormville”, we released it as a single last year. All of the sales are donated to St. Jude’s.

TFTV: Historically folk music is viewed within a context of narrative-driven lyricism, and very specific acoustic-based instrumentation. How do you see folk music functioning within a landscape where music making, and distribution has become exceedingly accessible for average “folks”? MK: In general, I think folk music is as big as ever. The proof is in how many sub genres have emerged over the last 10 years. With people taking the reigns as creators and distributors of their own music, a lot of truly original and fresh versions of folk music have been able to see the light of day.

TFTV: Does it seem easier to “make it” as a musician now (as opposed to say, 15 years ago) that recording, and distribution tools are more accessible, or does it seem harder since everyone also has access to these tools? MK: I don’t think it’s really become easier or harder. New technology has just redefined what the music industry is as a whole. There is definitely a lot more competition out there with the age of high quality home studios. 30 years ago, you would form a band, get signed and then make a record. Now, you make a record, promote it yourself, and a record label might come along and take credit for all of your hard work. Development is no longer something the music industry provides. It’s now the responsibility of the artist. And because of that, it’s created a huge middle class of musicians that never existed before. So, I think if “making it”, is equivalent to headlining Madison Square Garden, it’s probably much tougher today. If your goal is to create a sustainable living, I think it’s more attainable than ever.

TFTV: What does it even look like to “make it” as a musician in 2018? MK: For me, a lifetime of making music that I believe in would do the trick. A little money would be alright too.

TFTV: Do you think that streaming as the main distribution of music incentivizes creators to produce music with mass appeal even more than when record sales, and radio were the main mediums for distribution? MK: I think it actually has the opposite effect. Getting radio play is time consuming, competitive and often very expensive. Now, anyone with a computer can upload their music to spotify. There is no “tastemaker” or label telling them that their music doesn’t belong. More than anything, my concern with streaming is that it stresses quantity over quality. With spotify, there are algorithms that work in favor of an artist who is constantly releasing material.

TFTV: With the prevalence of social media, do you find the ability (And necessity) to be 100% responsible for your brand to be empowering, or exhausting? MK: It can be exhausting at times, but you can also have fun with it. I’ve been touring for around 15 years now. Over the last couple years, we’ve been pretty active on Instagram. I often wish we had more of those memories documented from the earlier years. TFTV: Having gone through the self-directed recording process, how would you advise artists looking to tackle this process? MK: If you’ve never recorded your own music before, start small. Try tracking a guitar at home, or vocals. Use your home space as a supplement to professional recording studios. You have to have a plan and a good space. We had a space that was naturally isolated from outside sound pollution. We were able to leave the studio set up for months at a time. We were also very lucky to have our producer/ engineer Rob Cleaveland, who had a clear vision on how we were going to get this done. We couldn’t have done it without him.

TFTV: Do you plan to tour in support of Stormville? MK: We just played a packed album release show at Rockwood Music Hall to kick things off. We’ll definitely be hitting a lot of our old haunts over the next few months to promote.

THE ALBUM:

Stormville exhibits the classic elements of singer-songer mythos while simultaneously showcasing some important twists which keep the listening experience engaging. A broad range of instrumentation including keys, brass sections, and group vocals mixed with Matt's distinct style of vocal delivery set this record apart from other folk contemporaries. Self referential elements (e.g. “Rustler’s moon” lyric in “Hey Now”) contribute building the sense of overarching narrative through the record. The result is a story depicting the ups and downs of navigating interpersonal relationships, life on the road as an artist, and the resulting moments of introspection. The takeaway between the story of the recording process and the actual content of the record is that Stormville is a structure carefully built board-by-board, note-by-note for the listener to explore and enjoy. If you're up for a journey check out the record here.

Author’s picks: ”Tonight” ”Hey Now” ”Rustler’s Moon” ”Smoke Settles Down”

FOLLOW MATT KRAHULA & THE NIGHTMARE RIVER BAND:

BANDCAMP | FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM | SOUNDCLOUD | WEBSITE

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