cringe gaymers hanging out. don’t know why but sans always seemed like a rhythm games fan

BONUS:

i didn’t run this time

eddie munson x powered!reader

«warning: angst : spoilers for vol 2 : get your tissues : »

previous chapter - epilogue

“Okay. I wanna run through it one more time.” Nancy says, looking at the others.

“Phase one. We meet Erica at the playground.” She says.

“She'll signal Max and Lucas when we're ready.” She says.

“Phase two. Max baits Vecna. He'll go after her, which'll put him in his trance.” Steve says.

“Phase three? Me and Eddie and Dustin draw the bats away.” (Y/n) says.

“Four. We head into Vecna's newly bat-free lair, and… …flambé.” Nancy says.

Nobody moves on to the next phase until we've all copied.” Steve says, and they others nod.

“Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what.” He says.

“Got it?” And they nod.

“Got it.” Eddie says.

“Here goes nothing.” (Y/n) says, holding her guitar in her hands. “Hey, guys, listen. If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort.” Steve says, looking at them.

“Okay? Draw the attention of the bats.” He says, looking at Eddie, Dustin, and (Y/n).

“Keep 'em busy for a minute or two. We'll take care of Vecna.” He adds.

“Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something.” He says.

“Okay? You guys are just... Decoys.” He says.

“Don't worry. You can be the hero, Steve. Absolutely. I mean, look at us. We are not heroes.” Eddie says, and (Y/n) looks at him.

“Hey, Steve?” He says, and Steve turns too look at him.

“Make him pay.” He says, to Steve who nods. As they got read on top of Eddie’s trailer waiting for the go ahead. “Ready for the best metal concert ever babe?” She asks, looking at Eddie who smile, “Of course my princess.” He says, and she smiles.

“Copy that. Initiating phase three.” Dustin says.

“Let's hope they hear this.” He says.

“Chrissy, this is for you.” Eddie says, ripping off the guitar puck necklace. As both him and (Y/n) start playing their guitar, as they start playing Master of Puppets by Metallica.

‘End of passion play. Crumbling away’

(Y/n) bangs her head along with Eddie, the couple smiling at each other. Finally getting to hear each other play the song they’ve practice for weeks.

‘I’m your source of self-destruction.’

Dustin smiling watching as his brother and sister figure, are jamming it out.

‘Veins that pump with fear.’

‘Sucking darkness clear.’

Eddie and (Y/n) putting all their heart and soul, into this distraction for the others. The best part was that they’re able to shred it out in the upside down together.

‘Taste me, you will see.’

‘More is all you need.’

(Y/n) puckered up her lips and acted like she was blowing a kiss towards her boyfriend. She smiled banging her head to the song.

‘Dedicated to how I’m killing you.’

(Y/n)’s back was against Eddie’s as they continued shredding. ‘Come crawling faster. Obey your master!’

‘Your life burns faster’

‘Obey your master!

‘Master!’

Dustin holding up the binoculars, seeing the demobats getting closer.

‘Where’s the dreams that I’ve been after?’

‘master, master’

‘You promised only lies’

(Y/n) and Eddie playing for Hawkins as well those lost, because of Vecna. Especially Chrissy.

‘Laughter, laughter’

‘All I hear and see is laughter’

Dustin looked back into the binoculars and saw the demobats getting closer.

‘Laughter, laughter’

‘Laughing at my cries’

“Eddie! Y/n!” Dustin shouts, and the two look towards him still playing the guitar.

“We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!” He shouts, and they nod and look at each other

Smiling ready for the epic finale to their upside down guitar concert, “T-minus 20!” Dustin shouts, and (Y/n) and Eddie both nod.

And the two play the most ferocious guitar riff, “T-minus ten!” He shouts, and Eddie and (Y/n) are almost finished. As they continued to play the guitar.

“Five!”

“One!” He shouts, the two then finally finishing the song. “Move! Move! Move!” Eddie shouts, as they jumped off the trailer as the swarm of demobats flew towards them.

“Let's go!” (Y/n) said.

“Move your asses!” She shouted, as she closed the gate and ran inside the trailer with the others. “Hurry! Eddie, shut it!” She screamed, and shut the door to the trailer.

“Dude!” Dustin says, and the three look at each other. “Most metal ever!” He shouts, and (Y/n) and Eddie jump with excitement and adrenaline. Then the demobats start banging on the trailer, “Hey, dip shits? Give up that easy, huh?” He shouts, and (Y/n) looks down at him.

“Shh!” She says.

“Is that really necessary?” Eddie adds, looking at Dustin. (Y/n) looks up hearing banging and rattling on the roof. “They're on the roof.” She says, looking up.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” They’ll curse. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” They curse, as they notice the air vent rattling, as the demobats try to break in.

“They can't get in through there, can they?” Dustin asks, and then one breaks the vent and screeches.

“Die! Die!” They’ll shout stabbing, “Die! Die! Die!” They shout. (Y/n) begins looking around, as one breaks through another vent and she stabs it.

“Eddie!” She shouts, as she stabs the bat. “I need you!” She shouts, and they’ll run towards his room which also had a vent.

“Get out of the way! Get out of the way!” Eddie exclaims, he then kills the bat.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” They both exclaim looking at each other.

“Are there other vents?” She asks, and his face went blank. “Oh, shit.” He exclaimed remembering there’s one in his room, and demobats started pounding on the air vent.

“That's not gonna hold!” She says, looking at the door. Then watches as Dustin climbs up the rope.

“Let's go! Let's go!” Dustin shouts, climbing up the rope and landing on the mattress in the real world.

“Come on! Quickly!” He shouts, and Eddie grabs onto the rope, and looks at (Y/n).

“Eddie, come on!” He shouts, and the moment (Y/n) looked him in the eye she knew what he was about to do.

“Eddie, Y/n, come on! Let's go!” He shouts, and (Y/n). She smiles looking up at Dustin, “I’m sorry baby, but I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself.” She says, knocking Eddie out with the metal rod in her hand.

“Y/n?” She looks up at him, “Take care of him for me.” She says, smiling. Using her powers to the best of her ability to lift her boyfriend up and into the real world, holding the spear in her hand.

Seeing him land safely beside Dustin, “What are you doing? Y/n, no!” Dustin pleaded, and she smile cutting the rope and looking up at him. And moving the mattress outta the way.

“Y/n!” He shouted.

“Y/n, stop! Y/n, stop!” He begs, and she looks up at him one more time.

“Stop! Stop!” He pleads.

“Y/n, what are you doing?” He shouts. “I'm buying more time.” She says.

“No!” He screams. Watching as she left the trailer.

“Come get me, you sons of bitches!” She screams, banging her shield and spears together.

“Eddie!” Dustin shouted, trying to shake him awake. “What? Where’s y/n?” Eddie asked, as he stirred awake.

And the look on Dustin’s face said it all, “No! No! No! Y/n!” He shouted, the two frantically trying to get back to the Upside Down to get to her.

“Y/n!” Eddie screamed, pleading for her to come back. As both him and Dustin land back in the upside down.

“Come on!” She shouted, holding the shield and taking down a couple of demobats at a time. “You little shits!” She screamed, stabbing them with her spear.

“I know you see me! You call yourself a fucking father!” She shouted, stabbing the demobats in the air. They started to swarm her causing her to get overwhelmed.

One bitting down onto her stomach taking a chunk of flesh. She screamed in pain, as more and more took a bite outta her. Causing her to fall into the ground screaming in pain.

“Y/n!” Eddie screamed out for her. She coughed up blood and stumbled her way to her feet, she let out a battle cry as she closed her eyes and ripped every single demobat around her in half.

Blood running down the side of her nose, and she fell back onto the ground. Blood covering her mouth, and seeping through her clothes. “Y/n!” Eddie shouted.

Eddie ran towards (Y/n) reaching out for her as he slid, on the ground towards her body. “Oh God!” He exclaimed. Seeing her blood covered body.

‘Where were you when I was lonesome?’

‘Locked away with freezing cold’

He couldn’t bring himself to even look at the wounds, huge chunks of flesh taken out of her. “Oh God, Y/n.” Dustin whispered, sitting beside Eddie.

‘Someone flying only stolen’

‘I can't tell, this lights so old’

“Bad, huh?” She whispered. Looking up at the two most important people in her life. Both boys shook their head, “No. You're gonna be fine.” Eddie whispered. Soothing the top of her head.

‘I don't wanna swim the ocean’

‘I don't wanna fight the tide’

“Just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?” He says. Holding her hand and planting a kiss on it, “Okay.” She says,

‘I don't wanna swim forever’

‘When it's cold I'd like to die’

Eddie grabs hold of her and tries to help her up, “All right. All right.” Both boys say, but the pain in her side was too much. What was that my sweet, sweet nothing?

‘I can't hear you through the fog’

‘If I holler, let me go’

“I think…” She groans, falling back into Eddie’s arms. “Come on.” He pleads, and she shakes her head.

‘If I falter, let me know’

“Eddie we both know.” She says, and he shakes his head tears threatening to roll down his cheeks.

‘I don't wanna swim the ocean’

‘I don't wanna fight the tide’

Mustering up as much strength as she could. She places her hand on his cheek, “I didn't run away this time, right?” She says, smiling looking up at him.

‘I don't wanna swim forever’

‘When it's cold, I'd like to die’

“No. No. No. No. You didn't run.” Both boys say and she smiles, looking at him.

“Why? Why’d you do that?” Eddie asked, and she smiled. “Because, it’s your year baby your gonna graduate.” She said, and he shook his head.

“It’s our year baby our year.” He said, as he plants another kiss on her hand. “86, Baby.” He says, and she chuckled softly then coughs up blood.

“Dustin?”

“Y-Yeah” Dustin says, between sniffles.

“Promise me you’ll watch over this idiot for me. Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.” She jokes. Causing a dry chuckle out of Dustin.

“I-I promise.” He cries, and then she turns towards Eddie. “T-Thank you. F-for give me *coughs* a normal life.” She says weakly.

‘I don't wanna swim forever’

‘I don't wanna fight the tide’

Letting out a chocked sob he stares down at her, “I love you guys,” She says, as she choking on her own blood. “I love you too,” They both say, and she smiles. “Your my hero Eddie.” She says, as her body went limp and her hand fell of his cheek.

‘I don't wanna swim the ocean’

‘When it's cold, I'd like to die’

Her eyes stared back at him lifeless, her lips frozen.“Y/n…..” Eddie shook her body, trying to wake her up.

“Y/n?” He said again shaking his head, trying to wake her up.

“Y/n!” He screamed. Tears rolling down his cheeks. Dustin shaking his head, “not my princess anyone but my princess!” He sobbed. Holding her close to his chest.

“Y/n!” Letting out a scream of anguish into the upside down as he held. The lifeless body of his dream girl.

tag list

@nightless @queenariesofnarnia @spideyanakin-interacts beepisbeep @pbeckn26 @whatinthefreshhellisthis @spideydreams00 @shadowluna25 @munsonzzgf @kbakery

pd band au hc dump... feel free to add to these. i love them the sillies

THEIR BAND NAME IS THE PURPS. props to @seraphex for this one its true now you cant change it

william and vyncent are on guitar, ashe is on bass and dakota is their drummer <3 will is also the lead vocalist but only after they make him

they all have unique guitars btw!!!! personally my fave ideas is vyncents guitar is modelled to look like a fucking sword

all the other heroes are popular bands. they get scouted eventually by the WATCH label when harlem went to one of their shitty ass basement gigs

he tries to get them to change the name from the purps . and to change the logo (it is a purple domino mask rn)

they wont

it started as just dakota vyncent and william, though will kept dipping in and out bc of stagefright and anxiety. and then dakota found ashe playing in like a music store one day or something and dragged her into it too

the unwitness protection program were also a band before. let me have this. william talks about them REALLY mysteriously and everyone thinks something tragic happened but they never even played publically they were just kids dicking around in their garages and william just had to move away eventually. but he thinks thats a lame story

i cant decide if its funnier to have vyncent be from fauna despite the lack of powers or not. i do not know how to explain his ability to fucking shred an electric guitar if he is though

their music tastes are all really different so william and dakota get into fights at LEAST twice a week over like. the prime force being overrated or some bullshit. ashe is initially confused by this because dakota keeps trying to make her side with him but vyncent is so used to it he doesnt even notice

ashe and vyncent swap stickers like theyre kandi. both of their guitars are covered in them and they get so excited about sharing

tobe continued. perhaps. just think about them ok

Bounaly — Dimanche á Bamako (Sahel Sounds)

A rougher, more urgent take on desert blues, this live performance by the Malian guitar hero Bounaly crackles and frays with frantic energy. Put it beside the double-tapping pyrotechnics of Mdou Moctar, and it sounds almost punk. Listen to it after the nodding, swaying grandeur of Tinariwen and feel the adrenaline surge. It’s clearly from the same general West African tradition, but hopped up and aggressively, defiantly joyful. Bounaly has been through a lot to get here—rural isolation, poverty, tribal violence and more. Now it’s Sunday afternoon, relatively calm and in the company of friends. Is it too much to ask that you get up and shake your ass?

Bounaly hails from Niafounke, a small town in central Mali best known as Ali Farka Touré’s birthplace. It’s a town that’s famous for music, where music is a key part of the local economy. Touré, for instance, used part of his earnings to pay for an irrigation system; he’s been the mayor of the town. And yet even here, where everyone understands the spiritual and commercial value of music, factional violence has turned things upside down. Bounaly fled to Bamako when war in Northern Mali spilled over into his hometown.

Dimanche á Bamako documents the way that the dispossessed come together, far from home, to celebrate the sounds that they grew up among. On Sundays in Bamako, people gather in squares and streets and courtyards around make-shift sound systems as immigrant northerners let their desert sound rip.

And rip it does—with a vengeance. “Wato To” takes shape above the murmur of audience members, its guitar licks searing, its rhythmic pulse driving and strong, a thread of melancholy woven through its hip-moving grooves. The sound quality isn’t perfect, but this somehow adds to the charm. Guitar solos flare in mid-flight into frantic buzz, like a phoenix catching fire to live one more time. About halfway through the cut kicks up a notch, both in tempo and in energy, pitched drums rattling, guitar spiraling, Bounaly shouting and grunting and yelping in increasingly frantic bursts. You can’t hear this part without picturing bodies in motion, arms raised, hands punching, a sea of cathartic gesture, of communal release.

Bounaly has his lyrical side. “Ma Cherie” unspools in languid eddies and swirls of guitar, the vocals full of longing. But it, too, catches fire mid-cut, in a burst of trebly, quick fingered shredding that rachets up tension in stair steps, higher and higher and higher, before subsiding into a liquid groove. But it’s the antic, manic, speed-addled rushes like “Mali Mussow” that really stand out, where the band is playing as fast as it can and the people, you imagine, are hopping frantically to keep up. It’s like the world is after them, and maybe it is, and only music can magic the danger away.

Jennifer Kelly

Wolfgang Van Halen busted out a pair of Van Halen tunes in a high-energy tribute to Taylor Hawkins at the late Foo Fighters drummer’s memorial concert in London.

The emotional moment came during a set performed by members of Hawkins’ side-project bands, Chevy Metal and the Coattail Riders.

“It should come as no surprise that Taylor was a huge Van Halen fan,” Dave Grohl told the Wembley Stadium audience as the running total of contributions via the YouTube livestream topped $15,000. “Remember those tights? We are lucky enough tonight to have with us a real Van Halen. Would you please welcome Mr. Wolfgang Van Halen to the stage right now?”

With The Darkness frontman Justin Hawkins on lead vocals, Josh Freese on drums, and Grohl on bass – and a picture of the late Hawkins with Eddie and Wolfgang Van Halen being screened around the stadium – the younger Van Halen opened with his dad's band's track “On Fire,” hinting at what was to come.

After that, as the unmistakable drum intro to “Hot for Teacher” began, Van Halen appeared to take a moment before bursting into his own take on his father's trademark shredding. At one key moment, Hawkins held his mic under Van Halen's hands, shaking his head as if he wondered how he’d gotten there, while Grohl glared with menacing excitement. Despite the demands of the moment, Van Halen even managed to deliver some vocal harmonies.

The younger Van Halen has staunchly refused to mimic his late dad’s guitar theatrics. Last year, in response to a fan telling him the time was right to do so, he replied: “I honor my dad by existing and doing what I do every day. I’m not fuckin’ playing ‘Panama’ for you guys.” His change of heart was clearly an emotional tribute to a lost friend, but it also proved a point that many were hoping to have proved: that Wolfgang is more than capable of playing his pop's music when the occasion calls for it.

The Van Halen cover set followed a series of covers of Hawkins-penned songs, including “It’s Over” and “Louise,” featuring members of his other bands and Justin Hawkins on lead vocals. Before that, pop star Kesha had delivered a breathtaking, animalistic cover of T. Rex’s “Children of the Revolution."

“Taylor would have loved seeing all you guys coming out,” Chevy Metal bassist Wiley Hodgden told the crowd. “He’d be laughing his ass off – his brothers just played Wembley!”

Van Halen has long been vocal about his love of the Foo Fighters' music and noted that it played a big role in how he approached his own first steps with the project that became Mammoth WVH. "I’ve always admired Dave Grohl and how he did the first Foo Fighters album," he told UCR during a 2021 conversation. "That was definitely a big inspiration."

He was quick to pay tribute as the news of Hawkins' death circulated, taking the stage in Boston the following day, offering up an emotional version of the Foos' "My Hero," which he said the band had prepared earlier in the afternoon prior to that night's gig. "He was a hero to me, and a hero to all of us, and a hero to countless people, so we feel this is necessary," he told fans.

The song stayed in the band's set list for the run of shows that followed, and during an April 2022 interview with Q104.3, Van Halen shared that while his personal encounters with Hawkins weren't frequent, they were extremely meaningful.

Hawkins had come backstage at a Van Halen date in San Diego on the band's A Different Kind of Truth tour in 2012, where he regaled both Wolfgang and his father with a stream of stories. The younger Van Halen, who had seen the drummer and Foo Fighters live numerous times, was thrilled.

"He told me that him and Dave Grohl had listened to the A Different Kind of Truth album, and he told me specifically they were geeking out on the song 'China Town' where I tap the intro with Pop," Van Halen recalled. "And they were, like, 'That's so awesome.' And that blew my mind as a 21-year-old person — God, I'm 31 now — that Dave Grohl and Taylor Hawkins had sat and geeked out to me playing bass. That blew my mind."

Sharing a photo of the moment on Instagram, Van Halen noted how important and inspirational Hawkins had been to him. "He was such a ridiculously kind man. The dude just emanated cool," Van Halen wrote. "Him, my pops and I talked for as long as we could until we had to leave. An incredible drummer and singer, he was a constant inspiration to me throughout my entire life. This is like a kick in the gut."

Hawkins will receive a second round of accolades at an additional tribute concert scheduled for Sept. 27 in Los Angeles.

Lucas only plays animal crossing, mortal kombat, and whichever madden is the new one. There is absolutely no in between

If you hand Lilith a controller for a recent console she’ll have no idea what to do with it, but if you hand her a SNES controller she’ll beat your ass at whatever game you’re playing

Similarly if you hand Gunther a controller he will fail approximately 7 times before giving up entirely, but he can play dig dug like nobody’s business. He used to have tetris on his phone but Wolfgang quietly deleted it because it was making him weird

Max isn’t allowed to play games with the group anymore because he kept throwing the controllers across the room every time he lost

When she’s not doing speedruns, Yuki mostly plays mmorpgs and rhythm games, both of which she is scarily good at

Morgan sucks at anything with a controller but kicks ass at DDR and just dance

Wolfgang shreds at guitar hero and can actually beat through the fire and flames but only if he’s high

Caleb only plays GTA

If you hand Hugo a controller he will ask “How do I jump” and “Which one is the X button?” until you take it away from him again

It’s time for the

One Punch Man Chapter 156 Expert Chapter Review 156 One Punch Man Review uuuuhhh

Let us begin! I am writing this while working and there is a woman on the phone yelling at me because I haven’t said anything for fifteen minutes but jokes on her, internet clout comes first bitch! I don’t know how to put people on hold so I allow them the privilege of listening to my breathing.

Retroactive addition: I’m writing this like 3 chapters later because I opened my drafts for the first time in two months and was presented with this… abomination… and I put just enough work into it to where I’d feel bad deleting it, so I figured I’d finish it and add my retroactive thoughts in italics like this. Please enjoy!

Ever since Flash kicked the shit out of Hellfire Flame and his anemic boyfriend, he’s just been having the worst fucking day of his life and that’s what you get for being a fucking fruit you high-heeled piccadilly shit.

“A being who truly wants to help the weak does not exist” Yeah right, fucking bozo he’s right THERE. His name is Garou and you CANNOT laugh at him because he was born in a cardboard box all alone. Nice panel choice Murata, thanks for being the world’s only 50 year-old Garou stan.

I mentioned before that Garou’s entire introduction arc is just him betraying himself and his inherently good nature because that’s really what it is; this entire monster thing is him acting out due to anger and trauma and everyone else can fucking tell!! Saitama and Darkshine tell him to his face that he’s “playing” a monster because who he really is inside is a hero, and not the type working for the Association, the real heroic ideal that recognizes what it’s like to truly want to help the weak.

(And now as we approach the end of his Monster Play, it’s been really cool to see him become not what he wanted, but what he needed to be. Instead of being the Ultimate Monster, Garou is just returning to his Ultimate Self: being a sorta-hero and karate-chopping Sage Centipede or whatever [alongside City Z’s #1 Baseball Player in the Juvenile Detention Center].)

ONE makes it a point throughout the entire series that the Association heroes* don’t show up unless they’re getting compensated in some way or if something directly affects them, meanwhile Garou went in and risked his life just for Tareo and blocked the shed from Death Gatling just for Tareo and saved Tareo from bullies that one time and— you get the point. There’s the Heroic Ideal and then there’s the actual heroes, and Garou is the Heroic Ideal deep down, even if his actions don’t reflect that. Which makes him a hypocrite (also mentioned this in a previous review), yes, because he’s bitching to the Association heroes for betraying the exact ideal his entire intro arc revolved around him betraying, but hey! Uuuhh spicy narrative morality or something idk I failed English twice and have the reading level of a third grader. Anyways.

*Save for a select few (Sneck, Lightning Max, Metal Bat, etc.) who have selflessly risked their lives for innocents, sure, but even then, they lost those fights, and therefore, the Association is still deeply unreliable. Heroes, in general, are deeply unreliable. And when they’re not being unreliable, they are actively choosing not to participate. The entirety of the heroes can’t be painted with the same morality brush, some are definitely better than others on that front, but all of them can definitely only be counted on to a certain extent— another thing Garou hates about them. Another thing that makes him closer to the Ideal Hero. Another thing that makes him a hypocrite, because he has definitely also gotten his ass kicked once or twice (Ex. when he was trying to protect Tareo from Royal Ripper and Bug God).

I gave Garou a guitar so he can shred absolute shit while Platinum Sperm explodes behind him

I liked their fight. I think it was fucking ridiculous and stupid but that’s very fitting for OPM. You cant take this shit seriously when you’re watching a Gen Z kid in a black morph suit beat the shit out of a shiny dude named Platinum Sperm of all things. I don’t know what else I wanted to say about this. Uh, the fight was very nicely drawn. Yes. Murata is good at draw. Anyways.

Tatsumaki may be a human chihuahua but at least she’s really cool deep down or whatever idk she still owes me 20$ and I’m mad about it.

ONE and Murata really banked on making Tatsumaki an annoying little shit at the beginning of the series just so we’d all cry when her tragic backstory came out, okay. That’s fine. I’m fine.

Even though it was never true to begin with, it would’ve been really easy to characterize her as another tragic power-hungry proud hero who just wants to win the clit-measuring contest prior to this scene, but I’m really glad they added it in. It’s really cool to see how Blast has influenced her to the point where even she knows him better than God after the like, only ten minutes they’ve spent together. He’s really… her only role model. Which is interesting because it kinda opens this idea of like, a role-model chain? I assumed, at one point long ago, that Tatsumaki was the #1 bitch who didn’t look up to anyone else because she really couldn’t? Where else do you look when you’ve already reached the top? But then we figured out it was Blast and then it was this big oooooh moment so I just have one question: who does Blast look up to? Is there another, higher ceiling somewhere else that even he has yet to reach? …Maybe in that weird ass mirror dimension or whatever with the other Overpowered Rangers?

I kinda wish we got to see Tatsumaki react to the actual Blast, but I assume that’ll happen later. She’d probably either cry or pretend she’s too cool to have role models and idk which is funnier.

I thought Sage Centipede was a weird ass-pull but now, two months later, I’m proud to announce that The Character Arc Understander Has Logged On.

When I was first making this post a while ago, I was trying to think of a rant to make alongside Sage Centipede’s appearance because I really did think it was a weird, abrupt ass-pull in an attempt to pad the arc somehow. But now, after reading his death at the hands of Garou, I Understand.

SC and Boros are the same in the sense that they’re both absurdly overpowered enemies introduced abruptly just to show us, the audience, where the current protagonists are in terms of power and their intentions as a hero. Because, as I said, SC is a major stepping stone in Garou’s journey to becoming his ultimate self. I feel like Garou’s final battle with Saitama just wouldn’t feel as complete if his encounter with SC and all the things we learned about him (additional backstory, his cooperation with Metal Bat [oh em gee Batarou !!!🤧🤧], his capabilities in combat, etc.) didn’t exist, so I’m glad it does. Thanks ONE and Murata, you’re like, okay at your jobs or whatever.

In conclusion: if you want to write chapter reviews, make sure you finish them in time because then you’re gonna cringe at what you thought was happening later on when you actually do know what’s happening (or, at least have a better idea of it. I have never, in my life, known what the hell was going on). Cheers, have a good Sunday. I gotta go to church. I’ll pray for more Young Bang and then maybe get triple-baptized. idk, we’ll figure it out.

Silly Little Symphony - Bakugou Katsuki

Track 1: Paralyzer- Finger Eleven

—/—

Bakugou is not a fan of half-assing things.

He hates it, despises it actually. Bakugou feels like anything worth doing deserves 100% effort, and if you give it any less than that you might as well not even attempt it in the first place. That’s his motto and that’s what he sticks with and that’s what he’s doing right now, too. Obviously.

Except- why does it feel like he has to convince himself?

It’s like there’s this lingering feeling in his mind that he’s taking the easy way out. That he’s taking the cheater’s way out, but it’s- there’s just no other choice, alright?

Bakugou knows he’s a brave guy, knows that he could shred anything he set his sights on, but by that very same logic, he’s knows even more that he’s not a very soft guy. His feelings for you are his feelings, and yes he might acknowledge them, but that doesn’t mean he could ever communicate them delicately. Even when he runs fantasy scenarios in his head, the words still come out all wrong. They’re too loud and too brash and too forceful and you always end up offended.

Bakugou doesn’t want you to end up offended- at leasy more than you already have. So, he quickly decided on a different method of communication.

A playlist.

A playlist full of songs that convey what he’s been wanting to, but also sound angry and scary and tough- because he’s a tough guy who listens to nothing but rock and punk and metal, and has definitely has not searched up songs with your name in the title before, and has definitely not then added those songs to his library. Because that’s ridiculous and soft, and like determined before, Bakugou Katsuki is not soft.

What he actually is, is a guy with a playlist full of specially-curated songs. And a guy with absolutely no idea how to give them to you.

The thing is, he’s read manga and watched movies and read all sorts of articles about these types of confessions (not that he’d ever admit that), but none of those felt like him. He was not a smooth talker or a brazen flirt or even just a kind guy- no, Bakugou was mean and loud, and he knew full well that he’d much sooner be cast as the antagonist than the romantic lead.

So all of that was a problem, and then you also currently didn’t even like him. You made it very clear, though every sneer and comment and biting comeback, that only feeling you held for him was begrudging respect- and even that was only on the battlefield. Once he stepped out of the hero uniform than you were back to hating him, and he only made it worse with every childish insult he threw your way. Bakugou knew it was a stupid way to get your attention, but it was also the most efficient one; and he was a man of efficiency.

So that left him here- pining the same way he had been for weeks, staring down into a playlist full of songs he couldn’t figure out how to play for you.

He sneaks a look at you, red eyes just barely skimming over top of the bus seats. You’re sitting a few rows ahead, sharing a snack with Tsuyu.

Bakugou thinks you’re stupid. He thinks you’re stupid for eating junk food right before a day of training, and he thinks you’re stupid for choosing to sit all the way in front like a nerd, and most of all he thinks you’re stupid for sharing your snack with that damn frog face when he’s right there. And obviously much better in every comparable, concievable way. Obviously.

Bakugou presses his headphones more securely into ears, and slouches down deep into his seat. All he can see now is the back of the seat, and he thinks that’s a better alternative. At least it won’t piss him off- not like the sight of you, sitting up front and laughing where he can’t hear, will.

With a grunt, he hits shuffle on his playlist, turning the volume to max. He closes his eyes dropping his head against the window. Drum fills and a guitar riff flood his ears, and he’s relaxing a bit, sinking into the sound, and all is well and good until-

Well just look at that girl with the lights coming up in her eyes. She's got to be somebody's baby.

God dammit.

Fuck Phantom Planet. Bakugou thinks. Fuck them.

Then he’s growling as he hits the skip button, throwing his phone onto the seat next to him.

—/—

As it turns out, all Bakugou needed was to beat the ever-loving shit out of something.

Cracking his palms and shaking his limbs, Bakugou launches at another robot. He thinks the machines feel weak under his explosions, almost offensively feeble in their construction. Like all of U.A’s staff went braindead that morning- like they couldn’t even bother to cook him up a worthy opponent.

When Bakugou looks around, that’s clearly not a shared statement. There’s the usual standouts of course, stupid deku and stupid icyhot and even stupid dunce face is doing well for once, but the rest of them are average. Mediocre. Completely and utterly inferior to him- and then you enter.

Your quirk, blink, is a bit useless in this scenario, but you’re not letting that stop you. There’s purpose in your movements, quick and controlled actions as you strap your home-made bombs around the base of each robot’s leg. Machines don’t blink, so you’re shit out of luck for your main speed ability, but your training makes up the difference. With practiced ease you’ve darted out from beneath the robot’s feet, and then you’re hitting the detonate on your remote.

Bakugou thinks you look unreasonably fucking cool as you sprint away from the blast. So cool in fact, that he might even consider your tech explosions as cool as his quirk ones. Maybe.

Bakugou wipes his palms, muffling a yawn. He’d blown up all his assigned robots ages ago, and now was left kicking rocks and generally doing nothing.

This training was supposed to act as a benchmark test- the idea was to drop a similar opponent into the ring, one that emulated the entrance exam, to test how far everyone had come since the beginning of the semester. It could’ve been good in theory, but Bakugou thought it was just a waste of time. Robot’s were easy for him then and they sure as hell were easy for him now.

Still though, he was the first one to kill all his robots, so not all was lost. Bakugou still walked away a winner and that meant he was feeling much better than earlier.

Smirking with shameless pride, Bakugou saunted to the exit area. More students began to file in after him, and he kept mostly quiet, but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when you walked past him.

“Fuckin’ fifth? With your overpowered-ass quirk?” He sneers, voice loud. “Waste of talent.”

Bakugou watches spin on your heels, watches your face melt into something deadly. You’re storming towards him, and he can’t even think past hoping you’d get a little closer.

“Robot’s don’t fucking blink, you jackass.” You’re red in the face and glaring, hands curling into fists at your sides. “You try getting. anything done without your quirk. Asshole.”

Then you’re stomping away, hardly giving him a second look as you cheer on your friends.

Bakugou can’t even begin to decipher what possessed him, to say those words, but he’s also not surprised. His words always come out wrong and he can’t say anything nice without wanting to scratch away his skin.

What he really wanted to say was that you were impressive even without your quirk. That you were admirably smart and tactical and well-prepared with your own bombs, and he thought that you looked really hot sprinting away from the wreckage- but that’s not what he said. Of course that’s not what he said.

Well, there goes his good mood. No amount of previous wins could ever distract him from how much of a loss that interaction was.

Eventually the rest of the class finishes, and then they’re all gathering breathless and tired back to the bus. Unfortunately, Kaminari fried himself completely and Mineta managed to break an ankle and that meant that they needed their own seats. That also meant that two people who had their own seats on the ride there, would now be sharing on the way back.

As shitty luck would have it, the class chose drawing straws as the deciding factor, and even worse than that, Bakugou got the shortest straw. The day was already shaping up to be pretty frustrating, but when you pulled the second-shortest straw it got even worse.

“We can always share instead, L/n!” Tsuyu’s says, hand on your shoulder and voice mediating. “Really. I don’t mind.”

Bakugou watched you sigh for a moment, and then you’re turning your head towards him. Your eyes meet his and Bakugou can’t help the smirk that rolls across his face- you’re looking at him and paying attention to him and even if it’s just you making a point he still likes that attention. He watches you squint your eyes at him in response, voice hard and steely as you speak to Tsuyu.

“No. It’s alright. We picked staws, and fair is fair.” Your squint morphs into a glare. “And besides, I’m not gonna let that smug bastard throw a fit into getting out of this.”

The statement should piss him off, and if anyone else said it it would’ve, but Bakugou finds it does the opposite. It just reaffirms how brave you are and how you’re not scared of him like everyone else is and how much he likes you for it- not that he’d ever tell you any of those things.

To save face, Bakugou instead pretends to be pissed about your words, his palms popping and crackling as he glares right back. He hopes it looks like a genuine threat and not a panic reaction, because really he just thinks you look so cool talking back to him directly like that and he definitely doesn’t know what to do with that. So instead he does what always works; what always makes him feel better when he gets a feeling too big to handle- he preps to blow shit up.

“Calm down, man. It’s just a seat.” Kirishima comes up behind him, pressing a water bottle into Bakugou’s crackling palms. “Here, take this and please don’t blow up the bus. Or L/n. That’d be so totally not heroic of you.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“No I’m serious, dude. Chill out, okay? L/n’s actually pretty nice once you get to know her.”

“I said, shut the hell up, Shitty Hair!” Bakugou barks, gritting his teeth.

Then he’s shoving his palms into his pockets, leaving Kirishima and the water behind, and stalking towards the bus before anyone else does. Bakugou figures that if he’s got to share a seat, then at least he’s going to be the one sat next to the window. He’ll make sure of it.

Still, there’s something sitting heavy in his stomach though- how does Kirishima know you’re nice?

The comment made his blood boil. Bakugou thinks it’s strange because usually he’s pretty tolerant of his friend, and even finds himself enjoying his company sometimes, but those words pissed Bakugou off. Pissed him off a lot.

”Wow, don’t look so goddamn thrilled.” You say sardonically, and Bakugou watches you drop into the seat next to him. “Might accidentally think you tolerate me, blasty.”

“Don’t fuckin’ call me that. Useless extra.”

Bakugou wants to smash his head into a wall- because why the fuck did he just say that?

Oh yeah, because apparently his jealousy was plastered all over his face, clear enough for you to comment on it. And even if you didn’t know that’s what the expression was, he’d still rather bite your head clean off than admit it was there in the first place.

“Yeah, whatever. I don’t want to fight.” You say, clenching your jaw as you settle back into the seat. “Look, it’ll be easier for both of us if we don’t talk, so I’ll just sit here and not bother you, alright?”

“Fine. Shut the hell up then.”

Once again, Bakugou wants to obliterate himself.

He doesn’t know why he can’t just tell you- why he can’t just say that he wants you to keep talking to him and that he wants you to keep snarking back at him. Why he can’t just say that he thinks your voice is one of the least grating ones in the whole class.

He thinks all of those things, but says none. Instead he keeps a fist clenched as his sides, scowling as he pulls out his headphones. He makes an intentional effort not to play your playlist and instead hits shuffle on all his music. He’d hoped that the loud drums and guitars would settle his emotions, but they didn’t. Nearly 10 minutes have passed and Bakugou’s as riled up as ever, but he’s also now completely convinced you’re trying to kill him.

You’re shifting in your seat, your arms extending out as you slip on your jacket. There’s little room, and every time you shuffle the sleeves to adjust them, you’re knocking your shoulders into his.

Then you stop.

You just stop and you go still and his skin isn’t tingling anymore and Bakugou is all kinds of pissed all over again. Because of you he’s nervous and flustered and you have the audacity to just sit there, unaffected. He has to snarl just to keep himself from blushing when he speaks.

“Why the fuck were you touching me?”

“It’s a small seat and I was putting on a jacket.” You reply, short and clipped. “I don’t know what you expect me to do about it.”

“Tch. Just don’t do it again. And shut up the fuck up already.”

“You- you talked to me first!”

“And? Who the fuck cares?” Bakugou grunts, turning the volume of his music up. “Now shut up.”

Jesus christ. Bakugou thinks to himself. Maybe I should just blow myself up for once.

Another few minutes pass, and Bakugou swears he’s really is dying. You’re still so close to him and he’s feeling very, very flustered, and while he doesn’t love the idea that you’re mad at him, he can’t say he hates the look on your face right now either. You’ve got your jaw clenched and your eyebrows set low and your hands are balled into fists as you steadfastly ignore him. Bakugou thinks you look scary- fucking terrifying.

He likes terrifying.

“Hey.” You suddenly nudge him with your shoulder, pointing to his earbuds. “I can hear it- your music. Turn it down.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because that’s basic courtesy.”

“What the fuck makes you think I have that, hah?”

“Oh my god, you’re fucking impossible.” You rolls your eyes, heaving a frustrated sigh. “Listen, if you’re gonna keep it up that loud then at least skip that song. It’s shit.”

Bakugou glances down at his screen.

Fucking Nickleback.

Jesus, could his day get any worse?

“Shut the hell up.” He snaps, squinting his eyes. “What the fuck do you know about good music? You don’t know shit.”

“I know that song sucks, so skip it. If you’re gonna accost me with loud music at least make it good.” You bite back, and then Bakugou watches as your face melts into an easy smirk. “Unless... all your music is that terrible?”

“Sounds like you’re pickin’ a fuckin’ fight!”

“I am, you asshole!”

Bakugou doesn’t know when the two of you got so close, but now you’re only inches away. He’s got his palms up and you’ve got your lips pulled back into a snarl and suddenly the bus seat seems so much smaller. It’s so much smaller and all Bakugou can think about is the red in your cheeks and the fire in your eyes and how much he likes the sight of both.

“Just skip the song or turn it down.” You finally huff, falling back in your seat, and all Bakugou can think about is how that breathe would’ve been on his cheek if it was two seconds ago.

Bakugou is mad. He’s mad at you and your stupid witch powers that leave the air feeling cold and your stupid breaths that he can’t stop focusing on and your stupid comment. Your stupid comment that had his blood burning in his veins and irritation settling in his temple.

Bakugou listened to cool music, okay? Cool, loud music for cool, loud guys. You just insulted that, insulted him so this wasn’t just a means of confessing feelings anymore, it was a pride thing and that’s why he says what he said next. It’s definitely not because this was the golden chance he’d been waiting for.

“My music is fuckin’ good.” He growls, and then he’s yanking an earbud out and shoving it towards you. “I’ll fucking show you. Now shut up and listen.”

“So goddamn pushy, jesus.”

“You gonna fuckin’ take it or not?”

“Oh my god. Fine.”

Bakugou watches you fit the earbud into your ear, his mouth set into a determined line. He knew he’d fucked up every other part of this conversation, monumentally fucked them up even, but he wouldn’t mess this up. He was prepared and this was the chance he was waiting for. Only an absolute idiot could mess this up and Bakugou Katsuki was not an idiot.

So he plays the first song he’d added to your playlist. Paralyzer.

To his surprise, you start nodding your head almost immeadiately. You know this song. The drum fill starts and then you’re looking over at him, giving him the tiniest little smirk of approval.

“Not bad, blasty.”

“Fucking told ya.” He can’t help the pride that swells in him at your validation. It’s warm and heavy in his chest, nearly drawing a smile out of him- and then he remembers he’s supposed to be mad. “And I told you, don’t fucking call me that.”

“I’ll call you by your name when you call me by mine.”

“Wipe the smirk off your stupid fucking face,” Bakugou growls. “Or I’ll blast it off.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes! Fuckin’ try me, extra!”

“Okay.” You huff a laugh at him. “Don’t blink then. Champ.”

Then you’re raising your hand, shoving it in his face and snapping before he can stop you. Bakugou flinches out of reflex and by the time he’s opened his eyes, you’ve already used your super-speed ability.

You’re sitting back against the seat, calm and collected and smirking, with both of Bakugou’s earbuds in your ears. You’ve got his phone in your hand and he watches you twist the cord around your finger, cross your legs casually and he’s stunned. He’s pissed that you got the better of him, but he also just really thinks you’re hot when you’ve won. He watches in dazed silence as you turn up the volume on his phone to max.

Well I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I want to make you move because you're standing still.

Bakugou decides two things in that moment: One, he fucking hates Finger Eleven. And two, he wants to blow the entire fucking bus to smithereens.

—/—

eee i hope u all enjoy, but especially u @bakugouswh0r3 and @definitelynottrin :))

#40 from the prompt list please and thank you!!!

I’m so sorry this took so long!!!

Someone You Loved

Rating: Mature for some themes

Pairing: fuckin’ Lukanette boi

Word count: 4,665

Prompt: (40) “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”

Description:

Well, Luka sings a song and I pissed @macaknight off with this when I asked her to beta read the start of it. It helps if you listen to the song in the story, Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi. Enjoy lmao

She was around by his side long enough to engrave the little things into his mind.

He knew how it felt to have the soft strands of midnight blues through his fingers as he tangled them in her hair. To have her legs settle on either side of his as he trailed his hand up her small back and waist under her soft cotton shirts. The cheeky grin he grew to love baring up at him when his arms bracketed with her in between he picked her up at home.

How he didn't care for sweets but loved the way blueberry muffins tasted on her tongue and the taste of her mixed with raspberry jelly when it leaked from the corner of her pouty lips.

How the Liberty swayed under his feet against the small currents the wind brought on as they danced in the rain. The feel of his converse bracing both their weights as her drenched skirt blew in harsh waves between them. The first lightning strike reflecting off an anchor necklace he gave her on their first date.

When she kissed his cheek when he started humming absently with frustration as he tried to figure out the melody he wrote. Her small fingers pulling the pencil out of his death grip as she lent her forehead against his to calm him and decipher the jumbled notes he had in his head.

The way her face lit up when he played it back to her.

The way her face fell when she told him she loved him but they couldn't be together.

How her arms stiffly pulled away from his hug and the red of her eyes she showed up with.

How the airy taste of salt from the water didn't compare to the salt of his tears that trailed to his lips as he grounded the palm of his hands to his eyes roughy as sobs racked through his body when he collapsed to the wood of the ship.

The way it left him numb with hurt and he became too compliant with his happenings, too accepting.

Defeated.

Music was harder to hear and enjoy, he couldn't compose anything more than a haunting melody that brought any stranger to tears.

He wasn't sure he even felt the burn to his tongue when he drank his hot coffee as soon as it was handed to him. Or the rough jerk of his shoulder to turn him around as his guitar bounced off his back.

"Hey man, you look worse for wear." Théo, a former classmate of his that now ran the coffee shop, spoke as he eyed him critically. Luka shifted his thick blacks squared rimmed sunglasses up higher to cover his dark circles better. "I'd say it's great to see you, but..."

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He offered the excuse at the ready, hating how well lying came with sadness.

“Ah, life of a famous rockstar.” Théo teased with a smirk. “No wondering you’re wearing a hat like that backwards to cover your hair and shades for those ‘oh so sexy’ blue eyes of yours.”

“Not famous,” Luka cringed at Théo’s words. “Just well known on the internet I guess.”

“Sorry for overplaying your popular cover videos man.” His old school mate laughed.

"It's fine. What's up?" He forced a smile that came across as genuine despite what he felt.

Théo crossed his arms and made a jerk with his head in the direction of the shop across the street, "New place has been stealing some of our loyal customers." Luka scratched under the brim of his black baseball cap he had on backwards as he followed the movement. "Lunch hour is about to hit and you know much we moved to stop by this part of town for break."

"Yeah, your aunt made good scones." He supplied.

He grunted in response, "Yeah. Well, girls frequent here more from school, and they keep going there," he roughly jerked his chin to the place again, "Just because there's an older guy who takes their order who is attractive, I guess. Or so I'm told."

Luka blinked at the shop before turning to his old friend, "What do you need from me then?"

"Observant as always, Couffaine." He snorted with a shake of his head. "I wanted to see if you -an attractive older guy- would give a small performance just as the girls come."

"What? Why?"

"Are you dense? With your face and body, and that 'sinful voice' of yours the girls cooed about back then and from your YouTube covers, I'm guaranteed to bring in more customers for today."

Luka tossed his half full coffee cup to the trash next to him. His own arms crossing as he wished he was in his cabin instead, laying on his bed while he stared up at the ceiling and trying to not feel the clench of his arm when he smelled Marinette's hibiscus shampoo and berry scented perfume on his pillows.

"I don't know."

His friend clasped onto his shoulder again, "Please man, you can keep 40% of the money you help bring in, I don't care. That shop is a dick and acting like we're not its competition."

“Man, you really don’t have to, I’ll just take a free coffee if you really need this.” Anything seemed better than just wallowing at home at this point, despite the incredible want to do so that swelled within him as he stood on the block he and Ladybug often frequented to patrol. “I mean it.”

Théo smiled, guiding him to a spot that he started clearing out near the cafe’s short fence that caged the outdoor tables and chairs.

“That’s okay, I feel bad to make you work without pay.” He straightened his back that had been bent forwards as he pushed tables, “Consider it repayment for that time you paid for my lunch.”

Luka stopped, “Lunch? When did I-,” he grunted. “Théo, that was four years ago.”

“Well, last Saturday had me thinking about all my debts and regrets when I thought I was gonna die. You came up.”

He flinched at mention of Saturday.

Saturday, the final fight against Hawkmoth who showed up in person with a struggling Mayura and an akumatized sentimonster of Lila. The combination of their powers as well as the wickedness that resided in the girl proving to be a difficult fight for them all when Ladybug and Chat pulled the entire team in.

Including a Chloé Bourgeois who was more than ready to help.

He could’ve sworn he heard Marinette screaming his name in worry when Hawkmoth closed in on him and hit into his side with his cane full force. But that was ridiculous. Because Marinette was Ladybug and Ladybug was Marinette. And Marinette wanted nothing to do with Luka since they had broken up without reason beyond her excuse of not being able to be with him.

He was a bit bitter about the whole ordeal.

Okay, he was more so lovesick and depressed, but his negative energy still stood.

“Yeah,” he flinched again when he heard his voice crack and he thumbed his bracelet -once silver, now a metallic black to hide better, “At least they finally caught Hawkmoth for good.”

“No kidding, now we can just focus on the heroes and the gossip your little girlfriend’s bestie posts.”

A knife. Through his heart. Twisting and gutting.

“Gossip?” He chose the safer option of the sentence, ignoring the onslaught of pitying questions and half-assed supportive promises that correcting Théo would bring.

“Yeah, like how that Ryuuko dragon girl and Chat are definitely dating and that Viperion and Ladybug totally have the hots for one another and the soft looks they give during patrols.”

A chainsaw. Just shredding his heart to pieces.

Luka Couffaine once thought he was a smart kid who made the right decisions.

How wrong he had been.

“Right.” He bit out, gripping the strap of his guitar case and scratching his baseball cap.

Théo shot up and loudly clapped with a whoop, “There we go! Now, I should grab the mic stand from open mic nights and just plug that in and some speakers, then we’ll be good to go.” Maybe Luka should’ve just left. “I’ll get ‘er done in five minutes, tops.”

Luka only nodded, watching as he ran around and set things up, then proudly presented Luka with the lone table he left set up to sit on.

He eyed his skeptically behind his sunglasses before hopping up, testing his weight on the surface before he crossed one ankle across his thigh and took his guitar from Théo who unzipped it for him. Théo pushed the mic stand closer to Luka and adjusted when he peered up at him.

“What do you want me to sing?”

His old friend shrugged with an easy smile, “Anything that comes to mind and draws that big crowd of hungry girls over.” Luka bobbed his head in response and tuned his acoustic guitar as Théo began backing up to inside the store and cheered, “Show off that sinful voice of yours, man! Woo!”

He let out a short chuckle and emptied his mind completely as he shut down, letting his fingers strum a few notes to a song that he began to resonate deeply with.

“I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me,” he closed his eyes and mentally chastised himself for being so open with his feelings as they poured out of him through a popular song. “This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy.”

He could see Théo looking at him carefully when he opened before squeezing his eyes shut in pain. He hated that look of pity, but he already started singing this song and he knew he would have to see it through given that the customers at the shop had already turned their attention to him.

“I need somebody to heal

Somebody to know

Somebody to have

Somebody to hold,”

Did he growl at the end of that last line? He wasn’t sure but the audience seemed moved by it and how he didn’t go weak on the verbs. Maybe he could please someone for once by just following with what worked for him.

“It's easy to say

But it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain.”

He thought he saw the familiar flash of black with red accents that everyone knew as Ladybug’s new suit for a second up on the rooftops. The rooftops that she danced with Viperion on and let her laugh rang over the quiet town under the stars. He wasn’t sure if he was just hopelessly imagining her or if she was there, but he felt the pain bite all at once and his voice became wobbly in a way that the crowd seemed touched by. You’re kidding me.

“Now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

Weak. He felt weak and it wasn’t the kind where he felt weak at the knees like when Marinette smiled up at him or her nose scrunched in thought.

He always thought he could be emotionally strong to handle whatever came his way. He was so sure of it.

“I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to turn to,” Guess he was weak for Marinette in every way possible after all, “This all or nothing way of loving got me sleeping without you.

“Now, I need somebody to know

Somebody to heal

Somebody to have

Just to know how it feels

It's easy to say but it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you helped me escape.”

There was no blame to place, he knew that. It didn’t make it better or let him throw his anger at her to get it out, but he couldn’t keep punishing himself either.

He felt his eyes sting, shutting them as one tear slipped through and feeling grateful for both his dark shades and the sun beating down on his face past the patio table umbrella, hiding the evidence of his heartbreak.

“Now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down,”

Who was he kidding? The heartbreak was the clearest part about him as he let the rough notes chip away at his throat and the growls making his voice artistically raw that he would have to worry about later.

His heart stopped painfully when he remembered the way Marinette’s face flushed all smitten like with a wondering look when Luka growled while singing and shot her winks, knowing how flustered it made her to see her calm and collective boyfriend with a soft and careful voice sounding so tortured for certain songs.

“And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.

How that came back to bite him in the ass.

He glanced up to blink away the tears and avoid the view of the large growing audience he couldn’t see from the sun.

He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of black and flecks of red again.

Fingers strummed harder and with more purpose and he let his soft voice fall back as the pain ripped through him and out in his voice.

“And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes

I fall into your arms

I'll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around.”

Fuck. He missed her. He missed her a fuck ton and wanted to hold her again and hear her whisper his nicknames of “Love”, “baby”, “handsome”, “Vipey”, whatever the hell she wanted to call him.

Even his damn name would be enough to sedate him for a year.

“For now the day bleeds

Into nightfall”

Dancing with her into the beginnings of a bad storm on the deck of the Liberty as they belted Cheap Thrills amist her giggles and his laughs he choked down to keep her beautiful voice going with his.

“And you're not here

To get me through it all”

Being curled up on her living room couch the next day with her cuddled into his side. Both sick with the cold, but unable to wipe the weak grins from their faces as Sabine amusingly disapproved of their actions the night before.

“I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug”

Their first kiss when she got flustered at their first date and told him she wouldn’t read too much into it despite wanting to, and him effectively shutting her up for the first time ever with the crash of his lips to hers and hands tilting her head up to meet him in reassurance.

“I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

The first time she called him her boyfriend and the pleased giggle she let out when he gave a startled and flustered noise, his snack flying out of the package he ripped open before he blinked and asked her to repeat what she said as a toothy grin broke his shocked face.

“But now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all”

Did a camera just flash at him? Hard to tell with the sun in his eyes and the dark lenses of his shades. He couldn’t find himself to care either.

“I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

He tried not to think about the fact that he forced himself to change his phone backgrounds to black, tried not to think if she deleted her phone screens of them napping together or the wallpaper of them dancing in the rain Juleka got of them as Luka dipped her over the edge of the stage they always practiced on.

The complete trust in her eyes and smile always made him melt in that picture. Her hands loosely holding her arms as her head titled back in a deep bellied laugh while he held onto her waist tightly with one arm and had the other behind him, the biggest smile that was only found on his face when Marinette was around.

“I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved.”

Luka still fucking loved her more than anything.

His drive, his inspiration, his happiness and safe space. His melody that always rang loudly in his ears.

Now it sounded just as it did when they were younger.

The numbness took over as he looked up, face contorted into a forced happy expression as he dipped his head in gratitude to see the very big crowd that gathered and was clapping with tears in their eyes. He excused himself to find Théo who ignored how exposed the song made his old friend, conversing with him briefly as he counted the amount of customers before Luka left and promised to give him the 40% the next visit he came and a free coffee.

He put up his guitar, tugging the case back over his shoulder as he headed back to the Liberty and tossed the faux leather casing to the bed, tossing his sunglasses to the the bed as well before heading to the deck and off to take a lap to clear his break up riddled mind.

The third block was a close achievement, before he felt the petite body rush into him and the all too familiar wrap of small and strong legs wrap about his waist with a black latex suit arm winding around his neck. He subconsciously fell back into habit as one of his own dropped to hold under her thighs and one around her own waist as black fielded his vision.

He barely got a curse out before the all too telling sound of a spiritually powered string to the famous yo-yo pinned against restraint and shot them upwards, his unmasked face burying itself in the crook of her neck from the force rush of air to his eyes.

His chest tightened to the smell of hibiscus flowers and berries, clutching her tighter for the first time in a long while. Half aware he shifted her higher against him to have her bring them closer.

Well fuck if he wasn’t the most touch starved and needy ex ever.

The familiar sound of a specific metal railing being bounded by the yo-yo was the only warning he got before the touched surface with his feet and she loosened her grip.

He barely heard the words of her detransformation before he could see the flash of pink through black and pulled back from her neck.

Terror shook through him, and his hands and body trembled against her as he couldn’t force himself to look up. Staring intently at the silver anchor necklace he gave her, bounded in a rope of small teal jewels.

Luka couldn’t look at her face, couldn’t look away from the necklace she still wore. He couldn’t let her go or put her down either.

“Breathe love,” her quiet voice spoke, soft and hesitant, breaking Luka as he dropped them to his knees and brought her closer than before.

An audible sob he hadn’t heard since she walked away from him escaped his lips and heaved for air as his chin rested over her head and he looked frantically in front of him. At her balcony, the plants that littered the space and the wood paneling they rested on, the little ladybug statue he bought her as a cute joke.

Seeing none of it through blurry eyes, forcing himself to drop his head to her shoulder as she quaked with tears and ran a soothing hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry, love.” He couldn’t get words out as he just grounded his face into her. “I thought I was protecting you, I didn’t realize how wrong I was.”

She pulled his face up, ceruleans magnified as his pupils dilated to the sight of her in front of him once again and the tips of his ears flaring just by her touch for the first time in forever. She caught a steam of tears with her thumb, giving him a tight smile.

“My miraculous gave me the intuition that Hawkmoth would make his final move.” She paused for a second, closing her eyes and she breathed deeply. “I thought for sure I would die when he did. Either by his winning, or ours but I would end up a casualty or sacrifice. You guys weren’t even supposed to be there, but Adrien insisted for backup and I just...”

“You left me because you thought you were going to be killed?” Voice gravelly and sore from the coffee shop, he pressed on, fingers twitching at her back. “Why didn’t you tell me? Even if you had to strap me down just to bench me from the fight, you should’ve told me.”

“You’re right,” she rushed. “Absolutely right, and it was pure hell to leave to that day or say what I did. I’ve never been more miserable with my life than I’ve been since we’ve broke up. I hate it, I hate being away from you so much, Luka.”

“Be mine again.”

“What?” She blinked, choking on air.

He squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into her touch when she held his face. “I don’t, I don’t fucking care if I’m being selfish anymore. It’s so hard not to be when it comes to you, Marinette. All these small details engraved to my mind, committed to memory and nothing to do with it.

“I keep leaving hoodies I casually wear on my amp for you to take, I keep putting that soft blanket you’re obsessed with folded on the edge of my bed for you to yank off and curl into as soon as you step into my room.” He forced his eyes not to open as he kept going, following the rhythm she provided and he struggled to find words for. “The minute I wake up, before I even open my eyes to see for the first time of the day, my phone is already in my hand with your contact open and a good morning text at the ready for you. Even good night texts when I reset my alarms. I keep leaving your spot open on my bed in case you visit while I’m asleep. Your favorite part on the couch for you. The last cherry popsicle of the package, and the cookie dough ice cream I bought out of habit are still in the freezer waiting for you to find them.

“I’m fucking broken without you.” He rasped, ceruleans meeting baby blues, “I’m missing you emotionally, figuratively, mentally, physically. How the hell am I supposed to be okay when you’ve become such a big part of me? When you’re my literal other half?”

She nudged his button nose with her small one, “I,” she gave a dark laugh that he felt in his core. “I keep airing out my room whenever my sewing machine leaves behind that electrical smell your nose scrunches at so much.” She giggled when she felt him do it at the mention of the scent. “I let the popcorn cook for half a minute longer to get it a little burnt like how you like. I sleep in your hoodies to leave behind the smell of my perfume and shampoo the way you said you like your hoodies to smell when I give them back. I play with my necklace when I grow nervous and can’t talk to you. I can’t go more than five hours without hovering over your contact name or looking at our pictures.”

He sat back on his knees, letting her adjust herself out of habit and moving her hair away from her face. The smile he gave was tight but reassuring.

“I missed you, doll.”

“I missed you too, Luka.” She paused for a second, “Hey,” she started cautiously.

“Hm,”

“Luka, you know I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you, right?”

The glint that quickly came to his eyes didn’t waver like his abused voice did, “I kinda figured from all the times you’ve blushed and stuttered. The times you tripped when I caught you off guard with a flirtatious comment or wink. And the times you kissed me like it was the end of the world.”

He looked up to see her set a false murderous glare above him as he ran his thumb over the teal gems in the rope around the anchor of her necklace, a smirk he hadn’t felt making way to his face as one of his naturally slightly pointer canines became visible to express his pure happiness.

“I forgot how much of a jerk you could be,” she huffed, looking away and sniffing.

“I’m sorry, doll.” He made her look at him, eyes still shining with unshed tears as the stared into hers. His grin was pure radiance, “I love you.”

She let him pull her down to a kiss, feeling those soft pouty lips he loved so much back on his again. “I know,” she replied between kisses, causing him to huff and pull away with his own pout. She held alone his jawline, “I’m kidding, kinda. But, I love you too.”

Her giggle when he let out a happy and short hum was pure music to his ears as her melody finally fell back into the correct time signature and key. Even as he parted with a pant and hugged her close, stroking her hair.

“Just, don’t leave me in the dark again.” He started, seeing her phone that fell out of her back pocket light up with a text from Alya.

Alya: So did you kiss and makeup, or not? I have Nino on the edge of his seat.

Alya: no really, he keeps asking and refuses to do ANYTHING until he finds out.

Alya: for fuck’s sake, answer and let me get laid

He hid his smile in her shoulder from the texts and the fact that she never changed her screens from them. Letting him see her cheek smushed up against his chest and her arm lazily thrown around his waist while his held her close.

“Never, not again. I’m not stupid enough to make the same mistake twice like I once was.” He snorted at the reference to her old crush on Adrien years ago. “But we do have something to talk about.”

He pulled back, eyeing her cautiously. “Did I do something?”

“Yes,” his heart fell and he was ready to beg for her forgiveness. “You know how many girls have your picture now? Videos of you singing a song in such a beautifully tortured way with those growls, and the rough notes and the, stop laughing Couffaine!”

“I’m sorry,” he muffled his laughs behind his hand. “I forgot how much fun I had just by talking with you and your small bouts of jealousy.”

“Oh, I’m bad? Says the boy who sang a song that people keep covering for heartbreak.”

“I’m getting paid for doing it.”

“How much?”

“40% of the customers I brought in by drawing a crowd and a coffee on the house,” he let a smile spread across his face. “You know, I might be able to change it. Can I treat you to a free mint hot chocolate, a date as well maybe?”

She considered him for a second.

“With whipped cream,” he added for extra measure to his small sweet’s addict. He dimpled up at her with a scrunch when she kissed his button nose.

“God, I love you, Luka.”

“I love you too,” he kissed her slowly, “Mari, just don’t let me sing like that again, my voice is killing me.”

“Got it, never leave you again.”

“Pretty much.”

“Hey, you look cute with your baseball cap backwards like this.” She winked, pulling his black hat from the balcony floor where it fell off and back on his head.

“I’d respond with a witty comment, but it hurts to talk now.”

She grinned, “Hm, I love you.”

Luka still smiled despite flinching from the rawness of his throat, “I love you.”

55 Albums Released in 2019 That Splash Oat Milk In My Earl Grey

This year felt like slo-mo, a holding pattern and a fast-forward button stumbling towards unknown ends. I spent the early months in paternal bliss and sleep deprivation, caring for my newborn daughter, then spent the rest of the year running to slow down… to make the most of small moments with my family, to juggle that thing every lifestyle magazine calls the work-life balance, to know when I need help and being willing to ask for it, to making priorities with loved ones. 

Also, after years of oolongs and a staunch no-milk-in-tea-except-milk-teas policy, I started putting honey and oat milk in my Earl Grey, an old tea standby that's felt warmly familiar in colder months. Similarly, I dug my heels into familiar-to-me gnarly metal, deep drone and abrasive punk this year, uninterested in poptimist takes on indie-rock. In an effort to maximize more time with new family and less with bulls***, I leaned hard into my Viking's Choice column at NPR Music (which went weekly!) to shout out underground debauchery and beauty to anyone who would listen. 

Below are 55 albums (and a few reissues and archival releases) that hit me in different ways over 2019. No ranking, just links out to Bandcamp where available. They come paired with emoji because that's a thing I do on Twitter. 

See also:

Viking's Choice: The Year In The Loud And The Weird (my annual year-end episode of All Songs Considered)

20 Punk Albums Released In 2019 That Flip Eggs, Pick Up Chains

20 Metal Albums Released In 2019 That Bluurgh Over Sick Riffs

A nine-hour playlist of 2019 jamz 

But first, some stray thoughts:

Ta-Nehisi Coates' still-ongoing Captain America run has been extremely rewarding. A beloved superhero comes to terms with the line between patriotism and nationalism as Coates underlines that American progress often comes from reluctance. 

Daniel Warren Johnson's Murder Falcon spoke to me not only as a metalhead who loves cartoonishly kick-ass violence, but also as a dude with a tender heart… that final issue still gets me in the feels. 

Krzysztof Kieślowski's Three Colours is secretly a trilogy of movies about the loving, painstaking process of creation, specifically music. I'd never seen any of them until paternity leave (and a sleeping baby) gave me hours to binge long-neglected to-watch lists. In 1993's Blue, in particular, a composition mirrors the grief of Juliette Binoche in an exquisite performance. 

Tiny Desk concerts I produced for NPR Music in 2019: American Football (with a children’s choir!), Thou, Erin Rae, Carly Rae Jepsen (sort of), Jimmy Eat World and Mount Eerie (videos coming in 2020). 

There’s a gallery at Glenstone, a truly stunning museum experience, that’s literally just a room full of books, a sculpted wooden bench and a large window that looks out on the rolling hills of Maryland. I could spend hours there. 

The second season of KCRW's Lost Notes, hosted by Jessica Hopper, built episodes like albums, sequenced with eureka moments throughout. See: the story of a teenage Farsi New Wave sibling duo and a difficult and necessary reassessment of John Fahey through the women in his life.  

High Spirits (May 7, Atlas Brew Works) is such a force for good. Heavy metal singalongs about love, friendship and positivity. I feel like this band needs to tour with Sheer Mag to be fully appreciated by an unknowing audience. 

Has your baseball team ever won the pennant with the sleeping baby on your chest? So many silent screams of joy in our household as the Nats not only won the National League, but the whole dang World Series. I haven't lived in a city/state with a baseball team that's gone to the World Series since 1995. 

Circuit Des Yeux's Haley Fohr (Dec. 5, Hirshhorn) tuned her voice to feedback hum and the rest that followed felt like a wordless eulogy for 2019. I felt renewed by it. 

I can't think of a prettier song released in 2019 than "This Time Around" by Jessica Pratt. It is saudade whispered into the wind.

This was my Linda Ronstadt year. Heart Like a Wheel, Canciones de mi Padre, her records with the Stone Poneys — the Queen of LA, with a voice that both bursts out of and melts into dusk, softened the edges of long days with an equally adventurous and easygoing spirit.

🚙 Petrol Girls, Cut & Stitch: In 2019, it was crucial — life-affirming and -saving, even — to make your own noise. "This is the sound / It moves in our bodies / It passes through time / Brings what came before us," Petrol Girls' Ren Aldridge screamed at the top of a turbulent punk record filled with compassion. That boundless philosophy resonated with me this year — to listen and absorb more deeply, to excavate the traces of memory in music.

👽 Blood Incantation, Hidden History of the Human Race: Simultaneously exists in the gaping maw of death-metal tradition and the galaxy brain of its future. 

💾 Kali Malone, The Sacrificial Code: Seeks the solemnity of the drone in the pipe organ, but leans into the vulnerability pushed through the air.

🕹️ billy woods & Kenny Segal, Hiding Places:  An album-length self-excavation that crawls through moldy memories in a brutal poetry that is at times darkly funny but mostly wrestles with personal and societal truths that'll leave you touched, shook. 

📟 Holly Herndon, PROTO: One of our deepest thinkers went to the past to make music from the future. 

🚨 Rakta, Falha Comum: Creepazoid emanations from a subterranean plane.

🐣 Sunwatchers, Illegal Moves: Ecstatic protest music summoning the beauty and rage of Alice Coltrane, Sonny Sharrock, Rhys Chatham and Hawkwind. 

🏞 Bill Orcutt, Odds Against Tomorrow: The most engaging, radical, but surprisingly accessible solo guitar album of the year. Bill Orcutt's ragged-yet-tender guitar skronk gives shaggy texture to rapturous melodies.

🍕 Control Top, Covert Contracts: This hits some dance-punky Erase Errata sweet spots for me, but with the technical finesse of a power trio. 

🚟 Real Life Rock & Roll Band, Hollerin' the Spirit: Applies minimalist techniques to rumbling, dueling guitar histrionics with a reckless, but locked-in energy. Never woulda thunk American Football and Henry Flynt could hoedown together. 

🐠 Caroline Shaw & Attacca Quartet, Orange: Balances austere beauty with rumbling earth. Riveting music for string quartet. 

💥 Mdou Moctor, Ilana (The Creator): Where ZZ Top bombast, Black Sabbath riffs and Tuareg trance rhythms swirl into an acid-rock stomp. 

👑 Vagabon, Vagabon: Goes so many places, yet always returns home. 

🎭 JPEGMAFIA, All My Heroes Are Cornballs: A neon-freaked feast blasted in slow mo and fast forward all at once.

🌆 Denzel Curry, ZUU: Dude's a metal rapper without a metal band, but if he ever started one, I'm down 100 percent. 

💨 Whistling Arrow, Whistling Arrow: An avant UK supergroup of prepared guitar, violin, electronics and hypnotic percussion drinks deep of dark lagers and mossy earth.

🐸 101 Notes on Jazz: Things are getting hard around the boloney hole...

🐳 M. Sage, Catch a Blessing: Warm, fuzzy world-building from blocks of sound stretched and warped into a new nostalgia.

🚇 Mizmor, Cairn: Deliberate and patient in its annihilating pace; lumbering, yet regally melodic riffs echo into a chasm of feedback.

🌅 Takafumi Matsubara, Strange, Beautiful And Fast: Next-level grind from the Gridlink mastermind and friends. While No One Knows What the Dead Think picked up where Discordance Axis left off, Takafumi Matsubara shreds into the future.

🐎 American Football, LP3: A reunion that keeps on giving and growing. Impressionistic in its quietly bursting arrangements and attuned to the individual talents of its vocal guests, especially that stunning duet with Hayley Williams. 

🔋 v/a, Seitō: In the Beginning, Woman Was the Sun: This compilation does for modern Japanese women in experimental music what P.S.F.’s Tokyo Flashback comps did for the Japanese psychedelic scenes of yore. 

👗 Carly Rae Jepsen, Dedicated: Didn't hold together as much as I wanted, or play like E•MO•TION's late-night mixtape, but every time one of its singles popped up on a friend's playlist -- "Julien," "Want You in My Room," "The Sound" and especially the slow-burn synth-pop exhaustion of "Too Much" -- I'd think, "Carly Rae Jepsen is the Queen of the Song I Needed Right Now."

🌕 Rong, wormhat: Just bonkers. Boston's Rong channels the joyous chaos of Japanese punks Melt-Banana and the aggro skronk of Brainiac with a tad of Deerhoof's weirdo-pop hooks.

✊🏿 Sounds of Liberation, Sounds of Liberation / Unreleased Columbia University 1973: Free jazz and funk band deep in spiritual grooves. Killer performances all around, but such a trip to hear more from young vibraphonist Khan Jamal during his Drum Dance to the Motherland era. 

🐬 Great Grandpa, Four of Arrows: If Sixpence None the Richer made an emo record, but only had Return of the Frog Queen on the mood board. 

📳 Sarah Louise, Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars: One of my favorite guitarists right now. Digitally processes melodies and single notes in an electronic elation landing somewhere between Robert Fripp, Alice Coltrane and Terry Riley.

📮 Sarah Hennies, Reservoir 1: An immersive sound cycle in constant motion, a quiet rumble that slowly transforms in and out of a glorious clatter. 

👣 Psychedelic Speed Freaks, Psychedelic Speed Freaks: Munehiro Narita essentially picks up where High Rise left off, still plays the guitar like it's about to blow up. 

🍩 Town Portal, Of Violence: Most instrumental post/prog-rock puts me to sleep, but this Danish trio illustrates just how dynamic and sound-rich this music can be. 

🛀 Jim O'Rourke, steamroom 45: An electronic excavation from the deep abyss. The 37-minute "Sigaretstraat" is a master class in patience, dynamics and sublime dissonance.

🎀 Cristina Quesada, I Think I Heard a Rumor: Multi-lingual, ultra-chic dance-pop with super-smart synth arrangements. Think: Tiki drinks and mod dresses. 

⏹ John Luther Adams, Become Desert: Truly time-less music; as in, music without time. 

⏏ Julia Reidy, brace, brace: Late night, longform excursions that offer an alternate Blade Runner soundtrack with frenzied 12-string, fuzzy synth glossolalia and an Auto-Tuned bummer haze.

🚞 A Million Dollars, I Love Your Voice and I Love You: Weird and warped twee-pop that woulda headlined Silent Barn. 

📠 Priests, The Seduction of Kansas: Truth-telling and truth-seeking through a mangled disco haze and bleak New Wave romanticism. 

🏭 Werner Durand with Amelia Cuni and Victor Meertens, processions: Majestic drones capture an undulating wonder with enveloping somnolence.

🎳 Sheer Mag, A Distant Call: The denim-and-leather-jacket-wearing standard bearers of truly independent rock and roll double-downed on their sound, but opened their hearts a bit more. 

📒 Susan Alcorn / Joe McPhee / Ken Vandermark, Invitation to a Dream: Illuminates the flickering motions of exploration. 

😱 Serpent Column, Mirror in Darkness: Pitch-black metal chaos with forceful melodies twisted into the tableau. Honestly? Deathspell Omega but skramz.

🏅 Pernice Brothers, Spread the Feeling: Joe Pernice digs into his '80s record collection to return with some of his most delicately written, winsome guitar-pop in years and tons of one-liners: "Love is a shoeless charlatan, a silver-tongued huckster with a sadist’s lipless grin."

🍓 Kalie Schorr, Open Book: Whip-smart, hook-twanged country-pop raised on MTV2 pop-punk and Sheryl Crow. 

📀 Angel Olsen, All Mirrors: In a year where we lost Scott Walker, this felt like a torch passed from 1969. 

😪 Mount Eerie, Lost Wisdom pt. 2: Phil Elverum draws us in evermore, revisiting a beloved album, mode and collaborator (the remarkable Julie Doiron), and molding them into his ever-changing songwriting and circumstance. Contains the most tender couplet of the year, which I'll carry with me always: "If ever the bonfire that I carry around could warm you again / I will be out here in the weather for you glowing."

🙉 75 Dollar Bill, I Was Real: Serious hypno-grooves from these drone excavators. 

👢 Karen Marks, Cold Cafe: The early '80s artist behind the Sky Girl comp's broodiest track gets a few more songs of existential synth-pop and jangly post-punk. Just wanna put them on mixtapes for friends. 

🍻 Haunt, If Icarus Could Fly: Synthesizes an earnest, studied love for '80s heavy metal with tons of guitar harmonies and can-crushing anthems, yes, but also a ton of heart.

🍖 Bob Dylan, The Rolling Thunder Revue: The strangest, most mystical and wild Dylan persona in all of its face-painted glory. 

🌹 A Pregnant Light, Broken Play: Damian Master's endless creativity and shameless bravado coalesce into a rugged beauty. As always, riffs for days. 

🦄 Fire-Toolz, Field Whispers (Into the Crystal Palace): Clashes New Age synthscapes, clubby raves, jazz fusion and metal shrieks into an idiosyncratic master's pure creation.

🌇 Maria W Horn, Epistasis: Quiet, yet forceful acoustic elements are wrapped in the sinews of technology to blur composition. A stirring mix of icy string drones and minimalist piano. 

🐲 Soul Glo, The N**** in Me Is Me: Distills the rage and terror of living in America while being black with blunt force.

🍢 Mára, Here Behold Your Own: Snapshots of a time before parenthood rendered in garbled organ, ambient guitar loops and echoing lullabies. Felt this one deeply. 

🚙 The Go-Betweens, G Stands for Go-Betweens: The Go-Betweens Anthology - Volume 2: There's a live KCRW version of "Quiet Heart" that just absolutely destroys me. Deeply thankful for the presentation and preservation that's gone into these box sets. 

😈 Bat for Lashes, Lost Girls: A coming-of-age concept album about a teenage vampire gang that was somehow severely overlooked. Some of Natasha's most tender songwriting and a rich synth-pop world that'd make M83 jealous.

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 007 [The Exam Begins]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂ Backward

Word Count: 1,796 ☁

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“This is my destiny. Here comes a king. Everybody’s gonna see.” WAR*HALL, “King of the World”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

Something was slapping my face. Repeatedly.

My eyes snapped open, glaring at the blonde hero hovering above me. “The fuck is your problem – stop!” I grabbed his wrist, shoving his hand away from my cheek.

“It’s the day of the exam,”

I tilted my head backward to look at the window. There wasn’t a hint of light coming through the sheer curtains. “What time is it?”

“Five-thirty,”

“Fuck off,” I rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head.

“Hey, hey, get up!” He easily tugged the blanket off, throwing it onto the floor. “I have to go meet up with young Midoriya and I don’t want you to risk sleeping in, now get up!”

I groaned when he grabbed my arm, pulling me up and off the couch. “Fine, whatever. Imma go shower.”

“Breakfast is in the microwave. It’s chilly outside so dress warmly!” He called after me before leaving the apartment. I let the cool water run over my body, my forehead against the cold tile. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous as fuck, but I had confidence in myself and in the training Aizawa had provided me.

I dried my body, dressing in a pair of basketball shorts, a taco t-shirt, and a black hoodie.

The food was still warm, steam fogging up the plastic wrap covering the plate. A cheese omelet and a serving of white rice. Simple and nutritional, but not nearly enough to fill me up. I glanced at the window as sunlight started to streak across the horizon in shades of orange and purple. I set the plate in the sink, grabbed a couple of snacks from the cabinet and pulled my sneakers on.

I was ready to go.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The entrance to U.A. High was packed with hopefuls. My eyes scanned their faces – confident, scared, nervous. Those were the most prominent emotions they were exhibiting. I stuffed my hands into my hoodie, following the throng of students as they piled into the building. Teachers herded the students into two lines, where we signed in at the desk and got our exam ticket.

After signing in, we were taken to a large gymnasium where rows upon rows of desks had been set up. A thin cement wall was constructed on each desk to prevent cheating. Midnight was standing at the front of the room with a smirk on her face and a riding crop in her hand.

“Everyone, take a seat! The written exam is about to begin!”

Students shuffled into the room, several boys rushing to the front to try and get closer to the R-Rated hero. I rolled my eyes, choosing a desk near the back. The last thing I wanted was to be closer to that woman, she doesn’t know what personal space is and I swear to god if she touches my boobs again, I’m gonna set this entire fucking building on fire.

After the room settled, Midnight spoke up, her voice echoing off the tall ceiling. “You will be given twenty minutes to answer as many questions as you can! There are a total of one hundred questions, each worth one point.” She started to walk around the room, her heels clicking against the polished maple floor. “Cheating is strictly forbidden. Anyone caught doing so will be punished severely.”

Her threat caused a wave of excitement to sweep through the male students. What a joke.

“BEGIN!”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

After finishing up the written exam, we were led to an auditorium where the seats sloped downward like a college classroom. A podium was set up at the bottom, a large screen taking up the length of the front wall.

Where should I sit, hmm? I stood off to the side, watching as the students filtered into the room, nervously choosing a seat. I felt a tap on my shoulder and glanced over, meeting the golden eyes of Shadow. He smiled, his clawed hand grabbing my wrist as he pulled me over to toward the bird boy standing on the right side of the room, looking embarrassed.

“Let her go,” he ordered before bowing at me. “I apologize for Dark Shadow’s actions.”

The shadow in question looked between the two of us with a sad expression. Dam, he’s too adorable. I reached out, patting him on the head. “It’s no biggie.” I sat down and he followed, sitting to my right. Shadow was hovering between us.

The boy held out his hand. “My name is Fumikage Tokoyami.”

I accepted, giving it a firm shake. “Jen Winchester,”

Using that last name felt foreign on my tongue. I had briefly debated whether or not I made a mistake choosing that name over Gramps’. When Toshi had taken me to get my quirk registered, he had asked me what last name I wanted to use. I hadn’t even considered that at the time. In a way, I felt like I was betraying Gramps by not taking his name, but… this just felt like something I had to do. Whether I liked it or not, I was a Winchester. It’s part of who I am.

But don’t worry, Gramps, I’ll always be a Tegu, as well.

The fluorescent lights clicked off before a spotlight focused on that damned cockatiel known as Present Mic, who stood tall behind the podium. I knew all about him and his quirk from the one time I met his ass during a trip to U.A. with Aizawa. He’s loud and really fucking annoying. I don’t hate the man, he seems pretty decent, but he’s too damn high strung for me.

Shadow perked up, looking fiercer in the darkness that surrounded us as he leaned against my shoulder. Fumi looked like he wanted to scold him, but he held his tongue.

“What’s up U.A. candidates?” The cockatiel boomed with excitement. “Thanks for tuning into me, your school DJ. Come on and let me hear ya!”

I scoffed as the room remained silent. Because of nerves or just because they thought he was lame, I didn’t know. Probably a bit of both.

He started to shake at the rejection. “Keeping it mellow, huh? That’s fine. I’ll skip straight to the main show! Let’s talk about how this practical exam is gonna go down, ‘kay? Are you rea~dy?!”

“So cringy,” I muttered, placing my palm against my forehead.

“He’s quite… eccentric.” Fumi commented.

“Like your application said, today you rockin’ boys and girls will be out there conducting mock battles in super hip urban settings!” The screen behind him came to life, showing the mock city. Lines extended out from it to seven boxes, labeled with a letter from A to G. “Guard your loins, my friends.”

He did not just fucking say that. What is wrong with this fool?

“After I drop the mic here, you’ll head to your specified battle center. Sound good? Okay?!”

What center am I going to again? I pulled the exam ticket from my pocket, scanning the card. Battle center E, huh?

“Aww, I wanted to fight alongside you,” Shadow said softly, peering over my shoulder.

I glanced at Fumi’s card – he’s in center A. I rested my hand on Shadow’s head to console him.

“Okay, okay, let’s check out your targets.” The city floated in the middle of the screen. Robot silhouettes appeared on either side of the city. “There are three types of faux villains in every battle center. You’ll earn points based on their level of difficulty, so choose wisely. Your goal in this trial is to use your quirk to raise your score by shredding these faux villains like a mid-song guitar solo!”

I deadpanned. The demonstration on screen was of a retro game where the cockatiel walked around kicking villains.

“But, check it – make sure you keep things heroic. Attacking other examinees is a U.A. no-no, ya dig?”

“Excuse me, sir, but I have a question.”

“Hit me!”

God, I would love to hit him right now. Preferably with a chair. He’s giving me a headache.

A spotlight focused on a tall, navy-haired boy with glasses who stood up and pointed at the handout of the faux villains. “On the printout, you’ve listed four types of villains, not three. With all respect, if this is an error on official U.A. materials, it is shameful. We are exemplary students, we expect the best from Japan’s most notable school. A mistake such as this won’t do.”

“What a loser,” a kid behind me snickered.

“Shut up, he’ll hear you!” But he was also laughing.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a loser but he was certainly making an ass of himself. He reminds me of a pretentious prep school kid. I clicked my tongue, leaning back with my hands behind my head. Guess it’s expected to find these types at the top hero school, huh?

He turned his glare to a student a few rows back. “Additionally, you with the unkempt hair. You’ve been muttering this entire time. Stop that. If you can’t bother to take this seriously, leave. You’re distracting the rest of us.”

“S-Sorry,” the kid mumbled, earning a laugh from the other students.

Poor kid. He’s probably just nervous. “What a toolbag,”

“Alright, alright.” The cockatiel tried to get everyone’s attention back on him. “Examinee number 7111, thnks for calling in with your request.” Another silhouetted robot appeared on the screen. “The fourth villain type is worth zero points. That guy’s just an obstacle we’re throwing in your way. There’s one in every battle center. Think of it as a hurdle you should try to avoid. It’s not that it can’t be beaten, but there’s… kinda no point. I recommend my listeners try to ignore it and focus on the ones topping the charts!”

The prep bowed. “Thank you very much. Please continue!”

Like he needs your damn permission to do so. Man, I really don’t like this kid.

“That’s all I’ve got for you today. I’ll sign off with a little present – a sample of our school’s motto! As general Napoleon Bonaparte one laid down, ‘A true hero is one who overcomes life’s misfortunes’. Mhm, now that’s a tasty soundbite. You ready to go beyond? Let’s hear a PLUS ULTRA!” Silence. “Good luck! Hope you practiced more than just books!”

Everyone was dismissed to get changed out of their school uniforms. Since I wasn’t wearing one, I headed straight for the bus that would take my group to battle center E. I noticed movement from the corner of my eye and glanced over, seeing Aizawa leaning against a tree with a cat in his arms.

“Did you steal that cat, bro?”

His eyes narrowed at me and he ignored the question. “Don’t make me look bad, kid.”

I scoffed as he walked away.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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The Greatest Kingdom | RWBY Volume 7 Chapter 1 Review

Now that my hype has died down a respectable amount, I think I’m clear-headed enough to express my thoughts on the RWBY Volume 7 premiere. I’m going to hold off on posting this until it’s publicly available and everyone comfortably knows what I’m on about, so by the time of reading, this’ll be a week-or-so old.

Going into Volume 7, I have to say, I was extremely excited. Volume 6 was a little bittersweet for me: a solid mix of things I liked and didn’t, where one didn’t really overshadow or completely take away from the other. The hiatus between Volumes 6 and 7 was also particularly exhausting, on both a mental and emotional level, and while that may sound over-dramatic, I’m sure many can attest to how much of a drag it all was. 

However, Volume 7 set us up somewhere I’ve been aching to see more of for a while: since Volume 2, if I’m honest. That being, of course, the Kingdom of Atlas and its defunct partner, Mantle. There’s so much rich potential for story in Atlas and, as “The Greatest Kingdom” revealed, CRWBY was set to dive right in, to some fairly pleasant results.

We open the Chapter with a shot panning down through the night sky, with our typical emphasis on the shattered moon. This is the first Volume, though, wherein we are aware of its true nature: how it got to be that way and, appropriately, the raised stakes now quite literally looming over our heroes’ heads. There is something more immediate to attend to, however, revealed as the shot finishes moving: the Atlesian air fleet.

I’m not certain if this was mentioned anywhere too openly, but Volume 7 Chapter 1 was originally intended to be the finale of Volume 6. I seem to recall Neath Oum, the voice of Ren, making comment on how an important moment was shifted because of this change (which we’ll get to in a bit). Point being, the Volume picks up exactly where Volume 6 left off, with the heroes’ stolen air ship, Manta 5-1, being welcomed home by an Atlesian officer. It doesn’t feel all that much like the premieres of the past; simply a continuation, though I’m hesitant to label that as a good or bad thing.

“But we are here,” Jaune then insists to the group. “We got the lamp to Atlas, so I guess we land and get some answers.” It’s obviously not going to be that simple -- wouldn’t be very interesting if it was -- but that’s something that stuck out to me. The heroes, this little hiccup aside, have accomplished the majority of their mission. They made it to Atlas, which was as far as they presumably intended to go (Yang, V6Ch6: “We can’t stop until the lamp is safe”). They’re our heroes, of course, so something will keep them going, but I am interested to see exactly what does push them to continue a fight they now feel is rather pointless. James has a line in the trailer about how “until now, I believed it was impossible to truly turn the tide against Salem”. I do wonder what that could be, and moreover, whether or not our heroes will inform him of everything they learned in Volume 6.

Back in the Chapter, Weiss warns that if they land in a stolen air ship, there’s no way they’ll be heard out or get a chance to speak with Ironwood. Now, I promise this is the only time I’ll mention further gripes with Volume 6 but honestly: you couldn’t’ve realized that sooner? That should’ve been the first thing on their minds when they decided to take such a risky course of action: is this really going to get us where we need to go when we know that the Kingdom of Atlas has closed its borders? It doesn’t matter that the air fleet is deployed aggressively; they should have accounted for the fact that they wouldn’t just be able to waltz right up Atlas. Yet somehow they seem to have forgotten about that until this rather convenient -- or inconvenient -- moment.

After Weiss perks up and remembers she can contact her sister, we get our first look at Mantle proper, and it’s wonderful. Literally down-to-earth, the dirty streets and brown-grey color palette intermixed with neon signage gives it something of a dystopian feel that is incredibly unique. Here, we get our first look at General James Ironwood since Volume 4 (discounting the Volume 7 trailer), and the presentation is telling. On an enormous neon holographic display, looming over the city of Mantle, and though his words are a promise of safety, he makes them at a distance. I doubt this is intended as screaming ‘dictator’, but merely showing a divide; one that is certainly not good. Yang and Ruby share a remark that he looks tired and Qrow wonders worriedly what he’s been doing (a year is kindly added to my life every time Qrow calls him “James”, and yes I will die in this rarepair hell). Indeed it seems that, in the month and a bit since Weiss left, things have taken a steep turn for the worse, with constant Atlesian patrols and surveillance drones in the streets. It’s certainly looking bleak, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love this set-up. The shot with the children lobbing a pebble at a drone, then hiding from it, in particular does a good job solidifying that this has become a norm, but an unwelcome one.

Weiss continues to insist that Winter can help them, but our first look at the eldest Schnee sibling begs to differ. It appears as though she’s upholding the military law placed over Mantle, and this seems to shock Weiss a good deal. With that off the table, Maria interjects that she knows someone who can help them.

Now would probably be a good moment for a quick aside to mention how wonderful of a job Jason Liebrecht does as the new voice of Qrow. The difference is noticeable, but I found it wasn’t enough to completely throw me off: at least, not for long. It’ll take some getting used to, but the character is no different, and Jason’s performance is solid.

Our heroes head out into the streets of Mantle, and we get a bit of light exposition from Maria about the Kingdom on the walk, after Yang continues to be everyone’s favorite brash blonde and kick subtlety out into the middle of the street where it is summarily smashed by a truck. I don’t have much to say about the encounter with Rupert the Drunk other than it felt perfectly in-place for what we know of Atlas and Mantle, and that Maria’s right: these kids have no concept of keeping a low profile when it counts. Not that I can blame Weiss; I honestly probably would have done the same. Although, given that we do see Rupert’s blue-beanie’d friend in the trailer, and how the shot pans back to show Winter, I’m willing to make a bet that this particular man will let someone in Mantle know the lost ex-Schnee heiress is back.

And then we’re introduced to Pietro. He is wonderful. Please protect.

The scene itself plays out as fairly lighthearted, until Yang and Blake bring the topic back around to the situation in Mantle. From there, we hear what we were basically expecting: James is scared (”paranoid”, as Pietro corrects), and it seems like our heroes aren’t the only ones having a hard time figuring out who to trust. I’d be hard pressed to believe that, given the Volume’s opening and the circumstances, the Queen virus from Volumes 2 and 3 is completely out of the picture. As it was so succinctly put by a fellow Redditor: this Volume is going to break this man.

Weiss steps up to ask about the Council and Winter, but it’s quickly sidetracked by Pietro recognizing her, and then Yang by the arm that he, presumably, built for her. The revelation that Pietro knows Team RWBY isn’t given much time to sink in before the alarms out in the street begin to blare and it becomes time for the premiere’s obligatory -- but honestly, very well done -- fight scene.

And now I will make my own obligatory aside to praise the music. The guitar piece in this fight is not done by Jeff Williams, as many probably expected, but is rather Alex Abraham’s work. I’ve seen a good handful of people I mentioned this to be surprised that he even plays guitar, and yes; yes, he does. And he kicks ass at it, if that wasn’t obvious enough.

While I saw the fight scene a handful of times before the Chapter premiered, thanks to RTX and again about three days before hand when it was released through Entertainment Weekly, I’m still incredibly impressed by it on a technical level. It’s a fight scene mostly for the sake of having a fight scene, but it looks damn good. Qrow, Oscar and Ruby’s sections stood out to me the most as having some solid choreography and camera work.

And then in a somewhat jarring shift in tone (will this show ever decide if the Grimm are a threat or not? Will power levels ever not give us a headache? Find out... sometime! Hopefully!), we get the aforementioned big moment: Penny, our resident robotic ray of sunshine, is alive and well!

And... kinda honestly makes our heroes look like jobbers? I say that fondly, and with a good deal of chuckling, because I do recall that Monty (or perhaps it was one of the boys?) mentioned Miles and Kerry were fairly averse to having a character use lasers specifically because of how powerful they are. In any case, it makes for a spectacular entrance, and I do especially love Penny’s graceful little flair of a pirouette up to the moon before she lands.

I will say perhaps my one gripe with this episode isn’t Penny’s return, but Ruby and the others’ reaction to it. It doesn’t break the episode, but allowing for comedy over what should have honestly been a very emotional moment for our lead didn’t sit right with me, personally. It’s treated as though this was almost expected, or at least a possibility they knew about in-universe, not a “holy crap, we saw her get torn to shreds”. Just because the audience expects it doesn’t mean the characters would, and I think I was simply expecting more from it. Then again, this is only Chapter 1, so we’ll see where they go with it.

After Penny blasts off to go save another quadrant of the city (she is now its official protector, after all), and Maria is brilliantly oblivious, RNJRWBY and QO are, in an unsurprising turn of events, apprehended by Ace Ops (ASOPS, Atlesian Special OPerativeS, would make a lick more sense, but ah well). I’m a bit concerned about the big ensemble this Volume, but I love the no-shits-given Chad vibes off their leader, Clover. It seems as though his Semblance, or character inspiration at least, is good luck (spinning a horseshoe, wearing a rabbit’s foot and has a clover as his emblem), and I cannot wait for him to have some dynamic with Qrow.

And Clover summarily lists off how many rules they’ve violated in the city in the span of about 10 minutes. Maria: hums, nods, fucks off. Basically one big “welp, he’s got ya there kids”. Bless her snarky soul; I hope this isn’t the last time we see her.

And, yes, thank you very much: these are the consequences I was hoping for. It’s likely to just get them where they need to go -- we wouldn’t have a Volume if they were in jail for all of it -- but they did still break the law and that’s that as far as Atlas’ forces were ever going to be concerned. I’m contented with something surface-level on that front.

We end the Chapter with our heroes arrested, in the back of a transport, and looking like they’re reevaluating their life choices. Cue the new OP!

Briefly: visuals of the new intro are solid, the staff of Creation being behind Monty’s name is really damn clever, “Trust Love” is a wonderful pop-y theme, Penny’s a cinnamon roll, someone please save James from all this bullshit.

Overall, a strong continuation off the previous Volume, but again I’d be hesitant to say it felt like a “proper” premiere. It’s very different from the feeling of previous ones, which can be chalked up to the fact that it wasn’t supposed to be a premiere but a finale, so ultimately I cannot fault it for coming out like neither. It was a good introduction to Mantle, the dynamic of the lower Kingdom, and left me in anticipation of what’s to come, which is such a refreshing feeling.

I’m hopeful and excited for the rest of the Volume. Let’s see where this roller coaster ride takes us.

Mac's Wild Years: By Michael Hurtt.  Originally published in Offbeat Magazine

Mac Rebennack was born in 1941. Dr. John was born in 1967. What happened in between would color his whole musical career. "In New Orleans, everything--food, music, religion, even the way people talk and act--has deep, deep roots; and, like the tangled veins of cypress roots that meander this way and that in the swamp, everything in New Orleans is interrelated, wrapped around itself in ways that aren't always obvious."--Mac Rebennack In 1967, Malcolm Rebennack, Jr., exiled to the West Coast after a final drug bust that forbid him "to go to or through New Orleans," donned face paint, glitter and plumes and emerged as Dr. John the Night Tripper. His debut album Gris-Gris, and the stage shows that followed it, hawked a brand of psychedelic New Orleans R&B that mixed Mardi Gras Indian street chants with the primal gospel of holiness churches, the pianistic funk of Professor Longhair, heavy doses of hoodoo mysticism and nearly every shred of ritualistic South Louisiana culture that he'd absorbed during his decade and a half in the New Orleans music scene. From the drag shows at the Dew Drop Inn to the electric guitar evangelizing of the Reverend Utah Smith, it was a netherworld far stranger and more colorful than anything the pioneer of voodoo rock could have dreamed up. His role in it, though often been eclipsed by his later metamorphosis, established a reputation that would inform every aspect of his later musical life. Populated by high school greasers, high-rolling gangsters, down-and-out dope fiends and jive-talking record men, it was a world that had rapidly begun evaporating with the election of District Attorney Earling Carothers "Jim" Garrison in 1961. Prior to his widely known investigation into the Kennedy assassination, Garrison made his name locally by leading a systematic crack down on Crescent City vice that padlocked night clubs, juke joints and gambling dens. He often led the raids himself, pistol in hand, and by 1963 had managed to single-handedly dismantle the around-the-clock-party that had been Rebennack's entire young life. It had been one of after-hours jam sessions that lasted well into the next day, followed by "record dates" that produced aural snapshots that just reeked with crazed rock 'n' roll atmosphere: Jerry Byrne's frantic "Lights Out" and "Carry On," Roland Stone's narcotic anthem "Junco Partner," and Mac's own sinister, tremelo-charged "Storm Warning." "If we didn't have an artist and we had some studio time we'd just be the artist," Rebennack says of the sessions that produced hundreds of singles under monikers from Ronnie and the Delinquents to Drits and Dravy. The former's 1959 "Bad Neighborhood" was a greasy period piece if there ever was one. Meant to commemorate "the end of the zoot suit era," its gleeful lines of "Lie, steal, drink all day / good folks try to keep away," was an outright celebration of the lifestyle that Garrison sought to eliminate. And the Delinquents moniker was really no joke. "When we hired Ronnie Barron to be the singer with us, he was a li'l thug," says Rebennack, who'd had remarkably bad luck with great front men thus far. "We lost more singers to the penitentiary," he says, naming nearly everyone who preceded Barron with the exception of Frankie Ford. "Deadeye went to the joint for manslaughter, Jerry Byrne fell and went up for statutory rape, then Roland Stone went up on narcotics." Local disc jockey Jim Stewart once recalled that Rebennack's teenage bands "were always high, always late." But somehow through the haze, Mac would manage to simultaneously wear the hats of talent scout, A&R man, composer, producer, arranger, session musician, and when the need arose, singer. It might have stayed that way had Barron not refused to take on the Dr. John persona, which was invented with him in mind. Rebennack had started flirting with drugs when he was 12, already well seasoned in the art of skipping school and Mass to catch the street car to the early morning R&B jams at the Brass Rail. Since his father owned an appliance store that serviced jukeboxes, his childhood was spent wearing out stacks of hillbilly, jazz and blues 78s when they came off the boxes. Schooled on "Pinetop's Boogie Woogie" by his piano-playing aunt, he soon took up the guitar. By the time rock 'n' roll hit during his freshman year at Jesuit High School, he was more than ready. At Jesuit, Rebennack formed his first band the Dominos, with Henry Guerineau, then joined Guerineau's the Spades with whom he played "the Holy Father Circuit," as he refers it, starring at CYO dances from Redemptorist in the Irish Channel to Saint Anthony's in Mid-City. His teachers were current and future Fats Domino guitarists Papoose Nelson and Roy Montrell, who took an axe to young Mac's brand new green and black Harmony guitar. "He broke it all up, called my Pa and said, 'Mr. Rebennack, I ain't teachin' your son on that piece of shit. Go pick him out something nice.' I thought I was going to get killed. My Pa was hip, though. He knew it wasn't about the guitar as much as having that guitar to bring on the gig." Montrell took Mac to a pawnshop where he picked out a Gibson that he worked off lugging appliances for his dad. "My father didn't say a word til later," Rebennack wrote in his autobiography Under a Hoodoo Moon. "Apparently Roy had taken him aside and told him, 'I taught your son a lesson, that you don't get things because of the way they look. You get them on how they work." "He had a way of teaching that kept me coming back for more. During the lesson, he strung me along with ordinary riffs--but then right at the end he'd play some killer lick, his back turned so I couldn't see his fingers, and say, 'Hey, wanna learn that shit, kid? Come back next week. Now get the fuck outta here." Having already met studio owner Cosimo Matassa, who was a friend of his father, Rebennack spent his schooldays honing his songwriting skills. "Man, I used to go to school, I had a couple of comic books where the outside cover looked like a loose leaf binder. And I'd sit there in class reading that. They thought I was doing something in school but I'd be sitting there writing songs, ripping them off from Mad or Tales from the Crypt." He'd also begun hanging out at Warren Easton High School on Canal Street, a hotbed of hip musical activity that had already birthed New Orleans first bona-fide white rock 'n' roll band, the Sparks. It was here that he first encountered saxophonist Leonard James, whose band was blasting out a set of Sam Butera songs in the school gymnasium. It turned out that James knew all about the Brass Rail too, and dug the same hard-driving sounds as Rebennack did. They were soon rehearsing at James' house in the notorious St. Roch park neighborhood with guitarist Earl Stanley--now playing the recently introduced electric bass--and drummer Paul Staehle. "Leonard lived on Robertson not too far from the park and Stanley used to live around there on Dauphine," Rebennack says. "One of the things St. Roch Park was known for was as a good cop spot. St. Roch church was famous, too, because they'd take the grease out the bells by the cemetery, mix it with some graveyard dirt and some gun powder, add extra nitrate and put that all together with Patchouli oil to make goofy dust. Now, what you did with it was according to how rank a motherfucker you were." The mysterious worlds of drugs and hoodoo fascinated young Mac, but in his new musical partners he found an even deeper magic. "Paul Staehle was bad. I remember him having drum battles with Edward Blackwell and all the top drummers. And Stanley had a finger-plucking style of guitar like Snooks did, North Mexican shit that he'd learned from his daddy. He was into Earl King and Guitar Slim just like I was. We liked those cats because they did something different." Rebennack had picked up on the flamboyance of his guitar heroes a little too acutely for the priests at Jesuit, who'd brought his high school career to a halt after a Christmas talent show where they accused him of making "lewd gyrations" with his instrument. The real beef, Henry Guerineau later told Tad Jones, was that they were playing R&B instead of big band swing or Dixieland. "At the time," he recalled, "it was heresy." Stanley, who became the Spades' guitarist after Rebennack left the band, was having his own issues over at Nicholls High. "I used to hang with the gangsters, all the tough guys," Stanley says. "I was so bad they threw me out of Nicholls but they couldn't throw me out of school. So they asked me to leave and I went to McDonough on Esplanade for a couple of months, then I quit when I was 15. That was in '55. "I didn't know Mac when he was in the Spades. I just remember seeing him playing guitar at the dances. I thought, 'That guy's pretty good.' Then I got with Leonard and through Leonard I met Mac. They had a guy playing piano with them, Hal Farrar, he went by the stage names 'King Helo Attaro' and 'Spider Boy.' Now Hal was a character, he was the character of them all; the main lunatic. He liked to drink vodka, he could care less about anything, just a wild man. He used to have this Cugat jacket he'd wear and he'd play piano and try to do all of Little Richard's stuff. He even had the little moustache. In fact, he recorded the original demo of 'I've Been Hoodood' (later to become the flip side of the Dr. John hit "Right Place, Wrong Time") with Leonard." Vocalists Wayne "Deadeye" Herring and Jerry Byrne were also drifting into the group at this point. "We used to do the old low-down blues," Herring told Jones. "There weren't too many white bands that could do it. Back then if you sat in with a black band, boy, they'd jump on your ass when you come outside. People took a dim view of that but we did it anyway." While band names revolved from the Skyliners to the Loafers to the Night Trains to the Thunderbirds, the foundation remained James, Rebennack, Stanley and Staehle. "Crippled" Eddie Hynes and Eddie Shroeder often floated in on trombone and baritone sax respectively. "Whether it was Leonard's band or my band, it was all pretty much the same crew of guys," says Rebennack, "Nothing really changed other than we changed the name of the band quite frequently. It kinda helped us get some gigs and win some talent shows. We lost them under one name and won them under another." The core foursome debuted on wax with an album of raunchy guitar and sax instrumentals, Boppin' and A Strollin' with Leonard James, recorded for Decca in 1956. Rough, ready and loose, the LP was the perfect soundtrack of noir New Orleans; at once evocative of French Quarter strip joints, high school dances and hood hangouts like the Rockery Inn. Along with discs like the Saxons' "Camel Walk' and the Sparks' "Merry Mary Lou," it stands as a testament to city's incredibly potent--but often obscured--white rock 'n' roll underground. "Leonard always took pride in combing his ducktail perfect," recalls Rebennack. "I mean, he would stand in front the mirror for an hour and then put his be-bop cap on--perfect. He had his little zoot suit pressed, more than the rest of us. We'd just wear them. They were the kind that didn't wrinkle any way. "Leonard was a great hustler. He used to walk in joints where they never had a band in their life. I remember us getting a gig in the Ninth Ward at a grocery store. Leonard conned this guy into hiring us but he wanted country music. We didn't know any country music so we'd play 'Comin' Around the Mountain' or whatever. As long as we were working, we didn't care nothing about none of the rest of it." From dives like the Club Leoma, the Blue Cat and the Jet Lounge, they moved up to the Clock on St. Charles Avenue and finally, the Brass Rail. "While we were working there Paul Gayten says, 'If y'all want to keep the gig, you're going to have to quit playing songs like the record.' And that became kind of a theme with our band. We didn't play them like the records, we played them our way." Gayten also took issue with their slightly out-of-date stage wear. "We had the same suits for so long that I don't think anybody ever considered getting new uniforms until Paul started fuckin' with us: 'Nobody wears zoot suits in Chicago; they wear continental suits.' Man, here we had all our money invested in these royal blue zoot suits. And what do we do? We got some new suits from Harry Hyman's or old man Sutton's on South Rampart--continental suits--and we wore them in Gretna when they had a gang fight at Cass's Lounge. They throwed us all in the drainage ditch out behind the joint. We ruined our new suits and we hadn't even paid for them yet! "When we worked at any of them joints on the West Bank, shit happened. At Spec's Moulin Rouge, old man Spec used to have guys walking around with pieces dressed like police but they wasn't official police, they was just guys who worked for old man Spec. Gang fights was, like, prevalent. When the Choctaw Boys and the Cherokees would have their annual beef at the Wego Inn on the Hill, it would be around Carnival. And it would be like, 'Goddamn.' You know the shit's going to happen; it's just when it's going happen. I would be trying to play close to the slot machines that were on the bandstand because I figured the slots could deal with the slugs better than me. When I saw anything that looked like it could be trouble, I'd back up toward the slots. But this is the kind of shit you had to endure back in them days because you were dealing with a bunch of crazy motherfuckers. And we were crazy, too." If there was one song that distilled the insanity into the length of a 45 RPM record, it was Rebennack's "Lights Out," cut by Jerry Byrne for Specialty in 1958. Punctuated by stop-time drum breaks, a foghorn-like saxophone riff and a searing piano solo courtesy of Art Neville, "Lights Out" has justifiably been called "the perfect rock 'n' roll song." Byrne's breakneck vocal nods to a personality so bent on bringing the house down that fights--and sometimes worse--often ensued. "Jerry was one of them suckers who worked the house," says Rebennack, "but he was a piece of work. He drove me crazy a number of times in my life. He was special with that. Hey, guys wanted to shoot me over things Jerry did. He had the ability to kick up more shit with more motherfuckers than anybody I know." In 1959, Byrne cut Mac's equally boisterous "Carry On" and then got sent to prison on a trumped-up statutory rape charge. Deadeye was already behind bars. "It was a never-ending thing," says Stanley, "just make a record and things happen, you know?" Despite the trouble, says Rebennack, "our band was really popular." They'd toured with Frankie Ford behind "Sea Cruise" and Byrne behind "Lights Out" as well as backing the traveling rock 'n' roll caravans at both the Municipal Auditorium and Pontchartrain Beach Amusement Park. And the records kept coming, from Bobby Lonero's "Little Bit" to Morgus and the Ghouls' "Morgus the Magnificent." "I don't think any of us thought that much about doing a record date," reflects Rebennack. "The gigs were the fun part. When I started working for Joe Ruffino's record company, Joe asked my daddy if I could be the president of the company and my daddy says, 'What are you crazy? This boy can't even find his fuckin' shoes!' But there were so many guys we did sessions for like Andy Blanco at Drew-blan in Morgan City and a bunch of other guys that had different little labels in the country. We played on all of Cos's Rex stuff and then we did a lot of crazy stuff all through the days we were working for Johnny Vincent over at Ace. I remember we stole 'Jimmy Crack Corn' and called it 'Ain't No Use.' We cut 'Row Your Boat' with Big Boy Myles. And I don't know how many different versions of 'Junco Partner' we cut with Roland Stone. We were some plagiarizing motherfuckers." Stone, the most prolific of Rebennack's vocalists on record, had already blazed the white R&B trail with local luminaries the Jokers when he waxed the regional smash "Just a Moment" with Rebennack in 1961. His entrance roughly coincided with the departure of Leonard James, who was replaced by Charlie Maduell after he joined the Air Force. "Charlie was just as crazy as Leonard was, but Leonard never got high. On the other hand, Charlie fit right in with the rest of us because he liked the narcotics, too. Probably the only one that wasn't a really serious drug addict was Stanley. If we were somewhere in the country, we would burglarize drug stores. When we were in the city, we forged 'scripts. We were strung out dope fiends, what the hell you going to do? There was a pharmacy on the corner of Dorgenois and Canal that used to sell to all the dope fiends. You had to go in there and ask for certain things, that's when I started getting my collection of Mad comic books together. If I got a comic book and a bag of pork rinds, that meant I wanted some opiates. Everything you ordered meant something else. We used to have so much fun that who'd have ever thought we'd wind up in jail? "My favorite gig was when Roland was singing with us and we started working at Little Club Forest on Jefferson Highway. At Club Forest, you could tell what audience hit because when all the junkies would come in, they'd just want to hear 'Junco Partner' over and over. When the whores came in they'd want to hear whatever their song was that night. So there were all these songs that fit the set. That gig was so fuckin' off the hook, so much crazy shit happened at that gig alone, I couldn't even describe it. "Between Charlie Maduell and Paul Staehle, they would always hide the stash for the band. One night they had a raid and Paul had the whole band's stash in his sock. They didn't shake us down, but the FBI came in and they emptied the joint. Somebody paid everyone's bond and before the night was over, Wes, the Jefferson Parish narc, was selling the customers back their dope in the band room! This is how out there it was. "And then Charlie went out and walked the bar and did the dance of the Seven Veils. He's out and there doing a striptease walking the bar. It's one of them gigs that's printed in my brain. And we always had what we used to call our 'band-aids' back then. Before they called them groupies, we called them band-Aids." When Stone fell for one of the young ladies a little too hard, friction arose. "I told Roland, 'Hey, listen, you can't marry this girl. She's our girl. She belongs to the band.' I thought I was doing him a favor but it backfired. He was obviously pissed." Stone showed up for his next recording session with three henchmen in tow including prizefighter Pepi Flores. "They stomped my ass. Charlie went out and got a gun and was firing in the air. I says, 'Charlie, quit shooting in the air! Shoot these motherfuckers!' He didn't even have real guns. They were replica weapons he'd loaded up! But we all went to work the next night together. Me and Charlie wound up having to wear shades and makeup to hide the black eyes. That's when I learned, hey, when it comes to matters of somebody's heart, stay the fuck out of it." The good times had to come to an end and they eventually did. Stone was busted on a narcotics charge, as was Maduell, who remains in Angola today. Within just a few years, Paul Staehle would die of a drug over dose. Rebennack's own luck ran out on Christmas Eve of 1961 when he intervened in a scuffle between Ronnie Barron and a jealous club owner who accused Barron of having an affair with his wife. "I walked in to get Ronnie at the last minute because Ronnie was like Leonard James, he'd take forever to get himself all perfect. So I go to get him and the guy's pistol-whipping him. Miss Mildred, Ronnie's mama, said if anything happened to her son on the road she was going to take a butcher knife and chop my cajones off. So I'm thinking, 'Man, if anything happens to this guy, his mama's going to fuck me up.' And hey, she was much more frightening to me than this guy was. I thought I had my hand over the handle of the gun, but it was over the barrel. I'm beating his hand on the bricks and as I'm hitting it, all of a sudden the gun went off and my finger's just about to fall off of my hand. It was hanging by a piece of skin and then I went crazy. I took Paul Staehle's ride cymbal out the case and just fucked up the guy's face. I was trying to pull his eyeballs out his head." Doctors managed to reattach the finger, but Rebennack had trouble playing guitar with the intensity he'd become known for. He concentrated on the keyboard, playing organ on virtually all of Huey Meaux's New Orleans sessions, most notably those of Barbara Lynn and Jimmy Donley. The first--and perhaps wildest--chapter of his musical career officially came to a close when he was busted and sent to federal prison in Fort Worth, Texas. Upon his release in 1965 he headed to California and his future as the Night Tripper. "You know what the kicks of it was?" Rebennack asks. "We wanted to play music so bad that we didn't ever think about it. We were trying to make a hustle just off of the gigs and that was part of the fun of it. Everything we done, we had fun doing it. That was the one thing that I always treasured about them days. It was just something that happened. When you're young and crazy and stupid, you do a lot of crazy, stupid shit. But a lot of that shit is great because you're too stupid to know better. I know that we made it a point to always have kicks, to always have good times no matter what was going to go down. We never thought, 'Oh, this is a suck-ass gig we're going on.' We went on all kinds of suck-ass gigs! But while we were doing them, we had a ball."

Hello! I love your writing, and I'm super grateful you've decided to share that with us. Reading your stories gives me the impression you probably have awesome taste in other people's fan-fiction too. If it's not too much trouble could you maybe rec some of your favorite fics when you have the time? Or point me to it if you've already done so?

The pressure is on!

I figured I’d just go through my favorites and see what my absolute faves are. There are still soooo many. And I’ll uh, organize them and give a little about why I like each one? I’ve never done a fic rec list before, so this should be interesting.

Smut Smut

A Helping Hand by Bexorz 

An A/B/O fic just to let you know, but it subverted my expectations excellently, and it’s a really sweet, smutty fic

One for the Books by mokuyoubi

They fuck in a Library. It’s everything I love, reading, books, reading about books, reading about Spideypool fucking near books, and the underestimation of Peter Parker based on his whole Nerd Shtick

Peter Parker’s Tiny Bathroom Window by blackredallover

Jesus Christ in a bag, what a trope. It’s p much what it says on the tin, with an extra helping of dat ass

Because of Unlocked Windows by Marble Aide

I mean, just, really hot stuff here. Also it’s mildly dub con, if that’s a no-go for you, but spoiler alert, it all ends good

Monday Morning Massages by TheMadKatter13

Speaking of dub con, and also, they’re really into it? Like, good for you guys, knowing what your kinks are. And excellent use of lube

Coming Home by reservoirgays

Somebody’s got a crush on that Spidey booty and I’ll give you one guess on who it is. Also, DP straight up doesn’t recognize non-lingerie, silly boy

Does This Count As A Foursome? (Hint: It Doesn’t) by alphasaceraptor

Absolutely one of my favorites. I mean, so much sex, but also, good people. Look at these good people, doing their superhero jobs, and taking a short break to hide from some bad guys in a conveniently placed closet ;)

baby, i’d victoria your secret anytime by ghostsoldier

Everyone has read this, right? Because it’s the greatest. DP feeling pretty in panties and a bra ;)

Swapping Places by illooninnate

It’s very real, them. Like, they feel very themselves in this. It’s nice. Also mild anxiety and mild dubcon, but very sexy?

WIPs but Worth it…

Happenstance by HelloAfternoon

More Identity Porn, because that is my lifeblood. It runs through my veins and keeps my heart beating. Peter the civilian, just tries to be helpful, and instead he catches a certain Deadpool’s eyes.

You Big Disgrace (series) by spiekiel

There are 2 fics in the series, both finished and able to work as a standalone, but the series is technically unfinished. And I think I might have an obsession with “Wade shows up at Peter’s house in the middle of the night” fics.

Spider Boxes (Series) by alicat54c

Part 1 is done. Part 2 is unfinished, but I have high hopes because I need to know what happens. Alternate DP movie plot, wherein DP meets Peter, not Vanessa

I Like Birds by chinashopbull

This is long, but it is beautifully written and still being updated, and Peter has Asperger’s/ASD and is a wonderful Spiderman. I seriously recommend this.

Say Anything…Except That by cortexikid

Gotta love this slow burn Friends to Lovers combo because Hot Dang! And hey, this one updated in 2017, so my hopes are going strong.

Fluff

what light through yonder window by hellornothing

I’m serious, the amount of “DP crawls through Peter’s window in the middle of the night” fics I have is outrageous so here, have another, it’s sweet

act your age (not your shoe size) by cherryvanilla

If I just chant the words “Identity Porn! Identity Porn!” over and over will you read it? It’s cute~ I promise. Peter is jealous of himself. It’s adorable

on staying around by WylderWolf

Slow burn for a 4k fic, and is violent and vulgar in a casual that almost refreshing. And ugh, the 4th wall breaks are so good, so organic, so real

The Dead Pool Motel by CrimesOfADeadpool

Cute little oneshot wherein Wade Wilson runs a motel and Peter Parker comes to stay for a little bit

What You See Is What You Get by merycula

After getting hit with an unknown beam during a fight with Mysterio, Peter can’t see Wade’s scars. Deadpool is so adorable confused and so is everyone else and Peter is a dear.

Hot Cocoa and Heroes by ChuckleVoodoos

Deadpool breaks into Peter’s apartment. Need I say more? (I’m going to anyway) DP is hurt and Pete-the-Civilian patches him up and it’s hella cute

Not so Fluff but still do it

I’ll Always Protect You by WillowSong

Someone didn’t get the memo. Don’t mess with Peter Parker. His BF is totally shredded and will beat you up.

Stay This Way by Orcusnox

This hurts so good. The kind of pain that pierces like a copper dagger diagonally through your heart. I mean, really. Great. Very great.

Peter Parker’s Home for the Wayward Villain by BeanieBaby

Regular Guy Peter Parker starts a Farm and accidentally adopts all of the bad guys in the Universe and it’s adorable. Please sedate me.

We Give and We Give by Only_1_Truth

Peter tears himself apart to be able to keep giving, to the world, to the people who need saving.

Little less blood, little more blue by Francium

Deadpool. Breaks. Into. Peter’s. Apartment. With a goat. Playing the guitar. It’s everything anyone could ever want.

Loyal to he Maze by DecimalDrones

Protective Wade is great. Protective Wade protecting Peter is better. Protective Wade protecting Peter professionally is a tongue-twister, but is also the best, and also this.

Said the Fly to the Spider by BC_Brynn

DP really wants to get with Peter and Peter is not helping him out at all. It’s adorable how just done Peter is with everything.

Stray away by mydickisthealpha

Peter is crushing on DP so fucking hard. Like, it’s detrimental. And adorable. He’s in completely over his head

Deadpool’s Dating? What the… by Ninjababe

My favorite excuse for everyone to go “What? DP is dating nerdy, bland Peter Parker? Who is definitely a civilian and not anything else?” And then Peter and DP shove their relationship in people’s faces and it’s great

Half Your Age (Plus Seven) by fancastical

This was pure joy. I mean, reading it was pure joy. I could not keep the smile off my face. You really get to watch these loons grow, as people, and experience new things every day and I’m just so goddamn proud. If you read nothing else, read this.

SPOTLIGHT!

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The Bridal Chase

By Robert Downs

Publisher: Black Opal Books Publication Date: May 12, 2018 Genre: Mystery, Suspense

Synopsis:

Elisha Crimson thought her wedding day would be the happiest of her life. But losing her fiancé to two thugs in a dark sedan wasn’t part of the plan. She, along with the rest of the wedding party, can do nothing to stop the abrupt abduction, so she pursues at the first opportunity, navigating the West Virginia interstate in a white wedding dress behind the wheel of a pickup truck. But will she catch the sedan in time to save her one true love? Ronnie Washington had known his past would catch up with him, eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to happen on his wedding day. He hates enclosed spaces, and now he’s bouncing around in the trunk of a car after being abducted from the ceremony. His only hope is to talk his way out, but the thugs don’t seem inclined to listen. He knows Elisha will come after him, but, even if she catches them, what can she possibly do against men like these? Can these two unlikely heroes save the day, and the wedding, or is their life together over before it even starts?

Goodreads

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Excerpt:

Saturday, 2:45 p.m.:

Her long, white dress billowed around her. Mascara raced down her face, her eyes frazzled, and a tear formed as she took off at a dead run. Her brother tossed her his set of keys. She caught them in midair and didn’t even break stride. She peeled out of the parking lot, as a spray of gravel pinged a Mercedes, two BMWs, and a Lexus. Through the open window, the wind whipped her hair. Her green eyes were fixed at a distant point on the horizon. Her gaze was just a bit above the dashboard, as she slammed the pickup truck into second gear. A string of curse words emitted from her lips and smacked the wheel. The cup holder beside her held a plastic cup filled with spit, and she picked it up now. Tobacco juice flowed from her lips, and into its predetermined location.

Elisha Crimson flipped the air conditioner on high, even though it was only sixty degrees outside. She honked her horn, gestured with her free hand, and merged into the passing lane. A silver car swerved in front of her, and she screamed and pounded the steering wheel in agony. This time, she neglected to salute the idiot behind the wheel with a cell phone pressed to his ear.

Her eyes flipped to her rearview mirror, and the sea of cars behind her in an intricate rainbow of colors. The trail of cars resembled a python, and the road in front of her was a never-ending façade of red taillights. An accident loomed up ahead, so she slowed down. Two cars—neither one moving—in the right-hand lane were both torn to shreds in twisted metal and crumpled bumpers. Her mind raced, and adrenaline shook her right hand.

She grabbed the cup beside her and spit another glob of juice.

She’d nailed second gear within five hundred feet of the parking lot, and third came soon after. Fourth proved a bit more of a challenge, but now that was behind her as well. Her lips moved at a constant, steady pace, and the cup beside her filled quickly as well. The pouch stuffed between the passenger seat and her own was a third gone.

She hadn’t smiled since this morning with her hairdresser and sister in the same room, as her mother waited in the room next to hers. Elisha flipped the radio low and her voice high. A rapper spoke about life in the ghetto.

She held onto the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white, and her joints ached. A song came on the radio that reminded her of him, and she turned up the volume loud enough to rattle the frame. With the windows rolled down, the sound traveled toward the trees on either side of the highway. A motorcycle engine roared behind her, and she pushed the pedal all the way to the floor. She smacked her lips and tapped her forehead. She kept thoughts of her fiancé,

her wedding, and the family she left behind to herself and slammed down the lid. She discovered a ball cap within arm’s reach and thumped it on her head.

She floored it around an old Porsche and a Mercedes with custom wheels. She held one thought and then another—What would her family think? How could this be happening to her? Was her fiancé okay?— collecting them like stamps and compartmentalizing each one in her mind until such a time when she could gather them whole and shove forward with her life.

She’d known Ronnie’s past would catch up with them one day, but now was not the time for second guesses.

She kept one eye on the horizon and her goal in mind. Her whole world changed when a car pulled out in front of her. She veered to the left, the pickup nearly coming up on two wheels, the center of gravity shifting with brute force. And then she shoved the pickup hard to the right, as the center of gravity changed once again, and the whole cab moved and shook around her. The wind whipped through with blazing speed, and her knuckles locked against the wheel. She pinged to the right and careened to the left like a ping pong ball through a maze.

Steam rose up around her, and she hoped it wasn’t her own. She bit her lip and drew blood, and even managed to swallow a little of the chewing tobacco. Coughing and gagging and sick to her stomach, she had no idea how to continue onward. Only that she had to. If she failed, she couldn’t deal with the consequences.

She had insisted on a big wedding filled with a dessert buffet, two guitars, one ice sculpture, three photographers, and one deejay. Had she scaled back, she might have found herself in a different predicament than the one she currently found herself in the middle of. The voice on the radio called her a liar.

She discovered love at eighteen when it bit her on the ass and decided to hang around. The fucker, Ronnie Washington, had smiled at her, and her knees buckled in the heat and humidity. Unable to string a coherent sentence together for five minutes, she waited for him to walk away. But he didn’t. Ten minutes later, he asked her out, and she said yes before she gathered what remained of her senses. Six years later—the best six years of her life—he still asked her out, the romantic bastard. Sure, the ups and downs sucked, and he charmed her with all five of his senses, but dammit she loved him anyway. She loved him with her entire body, and still that didn’t seem like enough. Now, in her brother’s pickup, with her whole world abandoned at the golf course, and her fiancé kidnapped in a black piece of crap with four wheels, she shed more water beneath her eyelids.

If she failed to push forward with everything she had, she never stood a chance at success. Sure, she had failed at almost every corner and streetlight. Sure, failure pointed the barrel of its gun in her direction. But failure didn’t stand a chance this time. She’d find a way to succeed, even if it meant she exhausted every last possibility. Even if she didn’t have a damn clue how

she’d do it.

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Purchase:

Amazon / B&N / Kobo / iBooks

Author Bio:

Robert Downs aspired to be a writer before he realized how difficult the writing process was. Fortunately, he'd already fallen in love with the craft, otherwise his tales might never have seen print. Originally from West Virginia, he has lived in Virginia, Massachusetts, New Mexico, and now resides in California. When he’s not writing, Downs can be found reading, reviewing, traveling, or smiling. To find out more about his latest projects, or to reach out to him on the Internet, visit the author’s website: www.RobertDowns.net. THE BRIDAL CHASE is his seventh book and second novella.

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From one bookaholic to another, I hope I’ve helped you find your next fix. —Dani

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29 Neibolt ST (Monster Roommate AU) Chapter 9

Hi friends! Heres Chapter 9! Got inspired by that post awhile back about Africa by Toto being played in the sewer and Penny jamming to it. Leech is a huge music connoisseur so I head cannon that she plays a lot of Guitar Hero with Freddy. Also theres slapstick/horror comedy in this one! The story is going to get more and more comedic from here because of the characters that are soon to be involved. Bonus points if anyone can guess which monster(s) I plan on bringing in next!

Warnings: Fluff, Horror, Alcohol

chapter 9

Africa

Pennywise climbed the basement stairs of the Neibolt House in annoyance. Leech hadn't come to see him yet today and as much as he hated to admit it her visits had become the highlight of his day especially when she had the weekend off to spend all her time with him. he had noticed that the more he was around her the more her scent changed, it was something that initially drew him to her in the first place. Her scent started out faintly sweet, but ever since they became intimate it was becoming overwhelming to him. A human would probably describe the scent similar to that of a freshly baked cake or pie being shoved right up against your nose. When he first noticed it, he had caught her looking at him while they had been both been casually chatting doing their chore wheel tasks. Something about her smell changed when she smiled at him. It got worse that night she got drunk while watching movies with the gang. Leech was sitting next to him on the couch and that sweet smell drifted into his nose when she reached over him for the popcorn in his lap. It would get stronger and stronger as their interactions increased Pennywise noticing that he could draw it out of her by doing certain things like putting his hand on her shoulder, or giving her certain looks.

He tried desperately to cope with the strange new feelings, he stopped eating for a bit and avoided her as much as possible. When Dracula finally confronted him he was a confused mess and he was even more confused when the elder vampire helped him realize that this new feeling was lust. After Chucky found out about his terrible affliction the two had begun bugging him non stop about it. Their “helping” him ending up feeding his obsession and he eventually gave in, fully accepting that he had feelings for this nearly human girl. These awful feelings are even worse now having started this…..complicated thing. He found himself with a whole new mess of emotions that he had no idea what to do with other than bury them deep and hope she didn't notice.

When usually he found her Leech would be listening to music or messing with her phone in her room where he'd promptly scare her before flopping down onto her bed to annoy her further. Today however he could hear her shouting passionately at Freddy in the living room, a hobby that they both shared.

“Your ass is mine Kruger I spent an entire week perfecting this solo.”

“Sweet cheeks you weren't even born when this song came out”

The two were in front of the old tv violently playing with fake guitars in their pjs. Leatherface was behind them gleefully hitting a toy drum-set and Dracula sat amused on an old chair.

“Does anyone want to explain this to me?”

“I don't quite know what it is but they have been at this for at least 12 hours now” the vampire exclaimed motioning for the clown to join.

“Have they even slept?”

“I do not think they have, my young apprentice hasn't even fed or bathed yet. Her determination to crush my roommate at this strange musical game is quite admirable.”

“Speaking of, Drac need refreshments!” Freddy called over his shoulder as the song Free Bird headed into its big solo.

“You cant do that! I haven't had anything to eat all day!”

“You’re just mad because you're all alone in this battle. THERES NO ONE TO SAVE YOU LEECH GIVE UP” Freddy shredded on the rock band controller aggressively

“Bite my nearly undead ass Freddy”

“I’m sure the clown does that plenty for you already bitch.”

Pennywise cleared his throat.

“Oh hey Pen, you wanna be a peach and get me some fuel.” Leech said glancing over her shoulder.

“Do I look like your servant? You're perfectly capable of getting it yourself you're just too lazy to go out and practice apparently.”

“OH HE BURNED YOU GOOD BLOODSUCKER”

“There are more pressing matters at hand Penny, asses need to be kicked right now”

“More pressing matters than not starving to death?”

“I’ll live”

“Barely. You look half dead, go sleep”

“Sleep is for the weak” she said turning to him with an absolutely feral look on her face.

“You're taking a break” the clown said as he scooped her up before she could protest. He carried her off to the bathroom where he turned on the shower and pushed her in still wearing her clothes.

“PENNYWISE what the hell!”

“Get clean.”

“But?

“No you can kick Freddy’s ass later” he crossed his arms and watched her expectantly.

“Um….. are you gong to leave?”

“Need to make sure you listen dear. Come now out of those wet clothes.” he said with a lusty tone, shit eating grin now forming on his face. Leech rolled her eyes and shut the curtain causing the clown to groan in disappointment. He nearly began to leave when the curtain reopened he turned back around quickly. Leech was now holding her wet clothing in a nice little ball and a drop of drool left the clowns lips at the sight.

“Hey Penny~” she said with a seductive voice

“Y-yes?”

“Hang these out to dry douchebag” she chucked the ball at his head wet clothes landing smack on his face before the curtain shut again.

“you torture me.”

“Its my favorite hobby.”

Pennywise growled in annoyance and left to find some extra hangers. He knew he kept some somewhere in his clown room where he kept a collection of circus memorabilia. When he opened the door and was greeted with a puff of dust causing him to scrunch his nose in annoyance it'd been a while since he was up here “I’ve been slacking off” he thought aloud to himself as he rummaged for hangers. After finding what he was looking for he decided to try to tidy the place up a bit grabbing a mix tape he had acquired from some poor soul standing outside his ex girlfriends window with a boombox. The clown never really liked the songs on the tape at first but lately they've been growing on him due to….certain circumstances. A few cheesy love songs had gone by and he was halfway done, Pennywise felt himself getting carried away with the current song playing singing along while dusting off an antique mannequin. He removed the clown wig from its head glancing fondly at it now as it was reminding him of a certain almost-vampire a few doors down. The clown found himself serenading it as if it was actually her, picking it up and beginning to dance to the song Africa by Toto. Freddy walked by the door just in time and froze to watch the scene unfold before him in amusement. “My darling little Leech you know I have grown quite fond of you” the clown growled into the mannequins cheek. Freddy had to bite down on his hat to keep quiet. “Whats that? You've fallen for me as well?” The clown dipped the mannequin down kissing its chest as the song came to an end. Freddy gave him a round of applause wiping away fake tears doing everything he could not to explode in laughter. “That was beautiful Jingles.”

Pennywise dropped the mannequin. “H-how long were you s-standing there for?”

“How long have you been in love?”

“I’m not in love. I don't love.”

“You just admitted it to your doll there jackass.”

“WAIT HE FINALLY SAID IT ALOUD?” came Chucky’s voice from down the hall

“NO I DID NOT AND SHUT UP PLEASE”

“This is great, I'm going to tell Dracula he's going to flip out.” Freddy began running for the stairs

“I wish those kids actually killed me in the 80s.” Pennywise mumbled

Just then a scream of terror could be heard from the bathroom followed by a series of curses of the clowns name. “PENNYWISEEEE”

Freddy and Chucky both came back out to look at him.

“What? I'm not doing anything?”

The three monsters eyes grew wide.

“oh no…. I'm not doing anything….”  The clown whispered

He bolted to the bathroom busting down the door “LEECH! What hap-” he slipped on a puddle of…. something and comically landed on his back. When he sat up she was covered in a weird black sludge that was shooting out of the shower head and bath tub faucet. The curtain had been yanked off and she was using it as a shield from the strange substance.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” yelled Chucky

“Also, nice butterfly tattoo under your boobs there Leech” Freddy added

“Its a moth!” Penny said from the floor.

“CAN WE FOCUS ON THE GOO PLEASE?? PEN MAKE IT FUCKING STOP”

“I told you I'm not doing it!”

Leech flopped out of the antique bathtub still clutching the curtains to herself and scrambling backwards into Pennywise as the tub began to overflow.

“AH Leech! You’re getting it all over me!” he yelled .

“PEN STRANGE BLACK GOO IS EXPLODING FROM OUR BATHTUB AND SHOWER HEAD. YOU LIVE IN THE SEWER! STAINS SHOULD BE THE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR SINK CLOWN” came a scream from downstairs flowed by frantic stomping up the stairs from both Leatherface and Drac

All the boys plus Leech were now staring at the massacre that was the upstairs bathroom.

“JINGLES MAKE IT STOP” screamed Chucky

“I CANT I’M NOT DOING IT”

“DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIFF WILL DO TO ME IF SHE COMES HOME AND FINDS ALL HER BATHROOM SHIT COVERED IN BLACK SLUDGE. I. WILL. DIE.”

Leech reached a trembling claw up to her head and pulled out what looks like a piece of scalp with long hair still attached to it her eyes began to grow wide in horror.

“IS THIS HAIR? WHY IS THERE HAIR IN IT? WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT” Leech turned around and grabbed Pennywise ruffles.

“DO NOT LET IT GET ON ME THIS IS AN ANTIQUE OUTFIT” shrieked Dracula

Leatherface was hooting and crying. He Began smashing a hole in the wall in panic. Chucky did his best to calm him but ended up being thrown down the hall screaming out in pain.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOUR HOUSE CLOWN” Freddy was shouting.

“EVERYONE SHUT UP AND STOP BEING AFRAID I CANT FUCKING THINK WITH ALL THIS FEAR IN THE ROOM”

“YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT FOOD AT A TIME LIKE THIS??? WE ARE GOING TO DROWN IN BLACK GOO THAT HAS PIECES OF SCALP IN IT! I’M THE ONLY ONE HERE THAT CANT RESURRECT YET! IM GOING TO DIE PEN! IM GOING TO FUCKING DIE!” Leech started hyperventilating and twitching claws out now tearing at the fabric of Pennywise’s costume.

Everyone was frantically “trying” to do something to stop the sludge oozing out of the bathroom Freddy ran up to the shower with a towel in an attempt to plug it up, Dracula was backed up against the corner on the ceiling, Chucky was attempting to stand back up after being thrown like a rag doll and Leatherface was chucking anything he could at the bathroom (mostly hitting Freddy.)

“SHUT UP ALL OF YOU” Pennywise roared rising to his feet, a door materialized behind the clown and he disappeared into it slamming it shut.

“YOU FUCKER! YOU CANT LEAVE ME PEN. DONT YOU DARE ABANDON ME. GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE IM NAKED AND AFRAID AND I FUCKING NEED YOU RIGHT NOW! PENNYWISE THE DANCING CLOWN GET YOUR PASTY RUFFLED BUTT BACK HERE AND STOP THIS BLACK SLUDGE.” Leech was pounding at the wall were the door had appeared still on the floor making big black hand prints on the wall.

Suddenly everything stopped. The boys and Leech all were frozen and panting in fear and confusion. The door reappeared and Pennywise walked out sludge splattered on his costume. “Did ANY ONE here think to turn the fucking water off? No? Just Pennywise? WOW imagine that! I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO FUCKING DIDNT FREAK OUT AND MAKE THE SITUATION WORSE!!! WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT???? NOW EVERYONE GET OUT SO I CAN FUCKING FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT WITHOUT HAVING YOU SCREAMING BANSHEES TAINTING THE AIR WITH YOUR PANIC AND FEAR!” The usual yellow of the clown’s eyes were almost completely red. He was livid. Not only were his fangs and claws on full display he seemed to be even taller than before looming over everyone in the room. It was truly terrifying to behold. The gang went silent.

“C-can I at least p-put some clothes on?” Leech asked still covering herself with the shower curtain

“OUT.”

“Leaving!” she and everyone else scrambled for the door slamming it behind them.

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Poor Penny he’s having a hard time. I totally head cannon that Pen is a secret plumbing expert since he lives in the sewers. Next chapter is going to have terrifying monster hate fucking so get hype for that friends!