To be Rock n Roll you Have to Make everyone a little Uncomfortable
This summer, I cut my hair short. The shortest it’s ever been. And do you want to know why I did it? Because I wanted to. That’s truly the long and..ahem…short of it.
A lot of women have shorn their locks this year, all for various reasons. Some out of convenience like me, some for deeper meanings in search of personal change. Some ladies are doing it simply out of defiance to show the world that a woman’s hair does not define her worth or beauty.
It’s amazing when you are in the public eye how passionate people can get about small changes like this. Especially on the net, the name calling, sexist comments and the mean, judgmental attacks on my gender and sexuality. All because I cut a few inches off my hair. And in the meantime most of my male friends right now are growing their mops out down to they asses! It’s just hair, it grows and gets cut. And the reason I’m addressing this issue is because there’s this misconception that your hair, what you wear, how skinny you are, your social status etc…defines your worth and your beauty. To that I’d like to say that my short hair was a test and some of you passed, and some of you failed because This could not be further from the truth. Your worth and your beauty is measured by your heart. It’s Your ability to accept yourself and others for their uniqueness, and really, being a good human is what makes you beautiful. I’ve been friends,dated and have had trists with a few handfuls of people. I’ve fallen for people who aren’t “traditionally and marketed as” beauty, and have considered them sexy and fucking amazing looking because of their bold, spunky, golden heart. I’ve also had close contact with our ‘traditional, socially accepted as beautiful people’ … and the truth is … it doesn’t matter how long your hair , your skinny waist or glowing skin… if you’re an asshole nobody wants to fuck, love or have you in their circle! The most beautiful people that I’ve kissed and that I’ve have had in my inner circle… are the rebels… the people that are defiantly being them, dressing like the want to, wearing their hair like they want to, getting tats, piercings, or none of those things. Just owning who you are is seriously the most sexy and beautiful thing you will ever do! And for me personally…this is what attracts me to someone.
I hope that everyone goes on Facebook and checks out every foul comment people are making about my hair. I hope every little girl and little dude reads this. I’m here to tell you that there’s always going to be people who will criticize you, judge you and are going to be downright cruel to you for the way you look sometimes. But when this happens you have to remember that You are ‘Rock n Roll’. You are not a pop star or a porn star where your worth is measured by your youth and your looks…. you Are Rock n Roll because you make everyone uncomfortable and are unapologetically yourself, you walk into a room with your head high and Own it, you dress yourself the way you want and you follow your dream at all costs with no backup plan!
Let everyone say what they want. But the only reason someone will troll you about your amazingness is because they are insecure and/or are dinosaurs who have no clue how to exist in 2017. Be you. Love you. Because I love you and we Stand Out together.
And P.S. do not feel sorry for me about any ridiculous comments that have been thrown my way… be sorry for the people that posted them… poor souls, I only give them love and encouragement to find who they are inside and not just own it .. but “Rock n Roll own it”
Carl the Animator: “Sure, if you mean insane…ly… awesome.”
Ted the Animator: “One minute, the gang’s mystery-solving… the next, Velma goes to visit a fortune teller/voodoo priest/who knows what. Because apparently, that’s just something every amusement park employs?”
Carl the Animator: “Duhhh. What, you mean you’ve never been to Disneyland and sacrificed a goat with their resident blood shaman?”
Ted the Animator: “…I’m 99.9% sure you’re joking, but that .1% still worries me.”
Carl the Animator: “The lady has a big book held up by a stone demon, though! You gotta admit that’s pretty spectacular.”
Ted the Animator: “I don’t know… grandma always told me to never trust a lady with a statue of an demonic ungulate.”
Carl the Animator: “Good advice, really.”
Ted the Animator: “She shows Velma her weird book, which tells the tale of a giant space volcano,–
Ted the Animator: “–because that’s totally what you expect from a Scooby-Doo movie about a ‘70s rock ‘n’ roll group.”
Carl the Animator: “You know it.”
Ted the Animator: “A mysterious figure stands in the center of a giant revolving chopstick sculpture. From here on out, it really goes off the rails.”
Carl the Animator: “Oh, I’m drinking in every second, believe me.”
Ted the Animator: “First, she awakens some kind of demon that threatens to burninate all of the planet’s nice thatched-roof cottages.”
Carl the Animator: “Tsk tsk!”
Ted the Animator: “Then, since they don’t like her nefarious doings, the high council of cat people from Red Dwarf all gather together.”
Carl the Animator: “Come to think of it, that would explain their elaborate wardrobes.”
Ted the Animator: “The cat people collect a bunch of Zigerion processor crystals…”
Ted the Animator: “…and somehow use ‘em to make bunch of crystal lightning on top of the volcano.”
Carl the Animator: “Ooh! What’s it do, what’s it do?”
Ted the Animator: “Locks a gorilla monster inside the volcano.”
Carl the Animator: “Beautiful. Magnificent.”
Ted the Animator: “Now, remember, this is all coming from the picture book she’s been narrating to Velma the entire time.”
Carl the Animator: “Presumably the My First Alien-Demon-Gorilla Apocolypse Little Golden Book.”
Ted the Animator: “It also features a prancing fox, conjoined dancing lions…”
Ted the Animator: “…and KISS, evidently?”
Carl the Animator: “This… this is brilliant.”
Ted the Animator: “No, Carl, no, it’s madness! What about cohesive storytelling? What about a strong narrative, and pacing, and tone?”
Carl the Animator: “Forget tone, the movie has a freakin’ space volcano demon gorilla in it! If you ask me, after that, a movie can do whatever it darn well pleases.”
Rock n’ Roll, the
musical style and movement that birthed modern music. Born in the USA
in the early 1950s with roots in African Music, Blues and Gospel, and
destined to forever change the way we listen to music. Rock n Roll
arrived like a storm changing everything on its path, the music of
youth and rebellion, with icons like Chuck Berry, Elvis Presley and
Buddy Holly amongst others. It inspired an entire generation to
create their own music and to evolve the genre into endless
possibilities forever changing the way we create and listen to
music… But what about other countries? Ever wondered how has Rock
n’ Roll affected different places on earth?
beginnings, Rock n Roll has never been popular with authority, and in
Mexico it was no different. Rock n Roll has always been an expression
of freedom and rebellion which to the government was nothing more
than an all-out assault on tradition and morality, a violation of the
ideological foundations of a country that has always been highly
catholic with little to no separation between church and state. Rock
n Roll was an explosion of youth expression a very strong contrast
with the generations that came before that moment, and with it came
new fashion, miniskirts and tight jeans, colorful shirts and long
hair…it was definitely not something the government of Mexico was
prepared to allow and it soon begun to link this new movement to
immorality, depravity and even satanism.
Rock n Roll became
public enemy number one and since the government owned and controlled
all media, the president at the time Miguel Aleman Valdez and the
Regent Uruchurtu launched a nationwide campaign to eradicate this new
movement of Rock n Roll that was a danger to society. Places called
“Cafe Cantante” which were dedicated to playing Rock and Roll
became illegal and closed down. Most shops and restaurants adopted
policies that would not allow long hair or immoral clothes in their
premises…imagine the town of Footloose but as an entire country.
the next decade, Mexico was under authoritarian rule. Young people
were expected to submit and obey without question, any expression of
rebellion as small as it was could be seen as a threat to the state
and would be silenced, this included freedom of speech and any
dispute against the ruling powers. The
begun to forbid gatherings of young people justifying this act as a
threat to national security.
1971 during the boom of psychedelic rock in USA and England, Mexico
was still behind, with two decades of prohibition of Rock n Roll the
youth was restless. Two young impresarios decided to organize a car
race in the town of Avandaro and figured it would be a nice moment to
promote some healthy concert featuring Rock n Roll. Well the word
spread like fire through Mexico about this event. A nation thirsty
for Rock n Roll couldn’t care less about car races but they traveled
long and wide to attend this Rock festival that would later be known
as Mexican Woodstock. An estimate of 500,000 people showed up to the
festival…the music starts and people loose it. Decades of
oppression go up in smoke in a couple songs, people dance and have
the times of their lives…some sets into the concert and people
start chanting “tenemos el poder” (we’ve got the power) The
government was not cool with that.
the festival ended, the government took to the media again to
satanize the festival, all headlines read SEX, DRUGS, RIOTS, FRENZY,
WILDNESS! And from that moment the Rock prohibition comes back
stronger than the first time around. Radio and Television were
forbidden to broadcast the music, it became illegal to listen to Rock
n Roll or dress like a Rocker, police were allowed to detain, arrest
and eventually brutalize any “rockers” they found on the streets,
being a rocker was outlawed and you could go to jail…or worse. It
was a complete blackout for Rock n Roll in the entire country.
like anytime anything becomes illegal…it will find a way to thrive,
and in Mexico that came in the way of “Hoyos Fonqui” (Funky Holes)
Illegal places where people would gather to play and listen to Rock.
These places were often somebody’s garage or an abandoned house, some
construction site, a warehouse or literally any damn place where you
could hide from authority to get your music on. Unlawful places where
anyone could go and some even profited from this by selling beer in
plastic bags or any substance you could think of. Oftentimes even
bent cops would assist these concerts selling whatever they had
confiscated earlier or charging for the concert as if they owned the
place. Every once and then the real police would raid these places
arresting hundreds of people at once.
took 15 years for Rock n Roll to become accepted into Mexican
society. In 1986 a publicity campaign called “Rock en tu Idioma”
(Rock in your language) begun to promote Rock and Roll in Mexico for
the first time. A great number of Mexican rock bands begun to
surge…only thirty years after the rest of the world had lived
through this movement.
date there is a delay in modern musical styles in Mexico as several
stages and sub-genres of Rock never had the time to thrive in the
country where the music was prohibited for so long.
I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted anon! :)
11:00 pm standing in front of the mirror again for what seemed like ages, poking and prodding and the stomach you hated. Unlike the magazines and television models you had a bit more to your body then they did. As your eyes caught the “skinny” jeans laying in the corner of your room, a sigh of defeat escaped your lips. They were good jeans nothing was wrong with them except for the fact the sometimes it got difficult to fit into them comfortably.
Personally you liked your leggings better, they fit snugly, they were soft and they didn’t make your thighs itch which nobody wanted.
There was one downside to this all, they were the same pair of jeans that April owned and April was a goddess in most men’s eyes. Long legs, hour glass figure, clear complexion, could eat fast food for a year and not gain a single pound. That’s what you wanted so badly to be, especially when you caught Raphael’s longing stares in her direction and thin models on motorcycles posters strewn across his room. Even as Raph laid across the room in your bed you couldn’t help but think that he deserved more than you, someone who could defend themselves and fight for the little guy, someone who could charm her way into the room, who made everyone’s heads turn as she entered. Realizing to yourself that you had just described April you angrily tossed your damned jeans to the floor and kicked them swiftly under the bed, knocking over your chair in the process which startled Raphael awake.
“Ya know I’m trying to sleep here…Eh babe what’s the matter?”
“Why me Raphael? Why have all this as a girlfriend, why not some thin stick like creature that you like so much?! What’s the point of dating me when you obviously don’t like what I look like, am I that bad that your just with me because you feel bad?!”
“What the- HEY! Calm down y/n”
“That’s rich coming from you Raph”
“Nah what’s rich is how dumb your being, what. The hell do ya mean I don’t like how ya look? Ya think I’d enjoy someone else? Y/n what the shell’s gotten into you!”
“Go be with April, she’s the better choice for you! God dammit Raph she’s everything you need and everything I’m not! Can’t you see? She can jump rooftops and fight the bad guys while still coming up with some sort of world saving plan and still look like she’s stepped out of a beauty salon! She’s miss perfect isn’t she? Rides motorcycles, takes long walks, kick boxes, she’s thin, she’s great at everything! I’m just not enough for you can’t you see! I’m just standing in your way of being happy for once! Leave me while you can Raph! Don’t pity me anymore.”
Raphael’s eyes softened as he realized what you were going on about, he hadn’t meant to cause you to feel this way. To him you are the most beautiful girl he’s ever met yea sure April was pretty but you were something else. You could belt out the lyrics to ever rock and roll song ever created, you weren’t afraid of taking one for the team, your laugh made him feel like that’s all he ever wanted. Wrapping you in his arms tightly even though you tried to squirm away wanting to scream out another round of angry words and hot tears falling down your face.
“Doll, I’m gonna love ya until I can’t no more then I’m gonna love ya just the way ya are some more. I don’t need April by my side, hell I have my girl right here in my arms and there ain’t no way I’m letting her go. You’re beautiful baby and I don’t tell you it enough, I love gettin lost in your eyes and I love picking you up just to hear you laugh, I love your body babe, all the curves just make their more to love and there ain’t no way I would want anything less. I’m a frickin idiot for not telling you more baby, hell it takes a special kind of girl to wanna date a mutant turtle”
Your tears eventually turned into sniffles and your sniffles turned into a giggle as Raph made fun of himself. He smirked at your little laugh, kissing the top of your head.
“That’s my girl, my beautiful girl”
“I love you Raphie”
“Yea you do, I love you to y/n more then ya know doll.”
“I think I have a pretty good idea how much now!”
“Do me a favour doll, never doubt how beautiful ya are. I see in you everything I’ve ever wanted and I wouldn’t want it any other way. All I need is you, all I want is you, I don’t need no one else as long as I’ve got you. Short and chubby, tall and thin, I’m gonna love you no matter what. After all I’ve got some flaws that need work to, and your always there to give me an attitude check and to make me a better man…well better turtle. But ya know if you wanna learn how to box then I can teach you a few moves”
Curling into his arms just a little more you stood on your tip toes and gave Raph a long sweet kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling his wrap tightly around your waist. There’s was nothing to be ashamed about, loving yourself was what was important. Even if you couldn’t do it now then at least you had Raph to help you along the way.
Side note: everyone’s bodies are beautiful! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise either :)
5-1-2 Combos: The Insufferable Know-It-All. They think they know everything there is to know about everything, and they cannot contain their urges to share their knowledge with absolutely everyone. They correct people over the tiniest mistakes with no concern for any self-consciousness this may cause and then act disingenuously confused when others get upset.
5-1-3 Combos: The Neurotic Over-Achiever. These are the students who cry over getting a B+ or not being the best at their extracurricular activity of choice. They tend not to do very well outside of school unless they get to become doctors. Even then, they usually end up overly competitive and have hollow social and family lives.
5-1-4 Combos: The Ivory-Tower Prophet. Think they have a perfect vision of what’s best for the world based on nothing but untested theory and fantastical introspection. Needs to actually get out and talk to people in order to actually refine their ideals, but they are often unwilling to because that might involve admitting they are wrong or dealing with people they consider less than them.
5-8-2 Combos: The Armchair Shrink. Read a Psych 101 textbook once and now thinks they are qualified to give drive-by diagnoses and overly impersonal life advice. Tends to be very overbearing about it and generally refuses to listen to further information from their “patients”, particularly if it goes against their assumptions.
5-8-3 Combos: The Cult Leader. Has some bizarre philosophy that they propagate using hollow social influence and brutal aggression. Speaks in pyramid-scheme language and literally never shuts up until you are brow-beaten into submission because your own mind intimidated itself trying to figure out what the hell they were trying to say.
5-8-4 Combos: The Self-Important Jerk. Like the Cult Leader, but lazier and with fewer social skills. Turns their nose up at any preferences or modes of living other than their own and resents anyone who doesn’t see eye to eye with them 100%. They’re very bossy, but their instructions are often terse and unclear, and to make matters worse, they just get mad at you when you tell them to explain because they’re over-sensitive about being misunderstood.
5-9-2 Combos: The Unsolicited Mediator. They hate conflict, but they can’t stand to stay out of it, either. If you’re having a dispute with somebody, expect them to show up spouting inappropriate objectivity and some sterile, by-the-book advice about using I-statements and whatnot. This is actually pretty effective in resolving the disputes, but not in the way they want it to - instead of being mad at the person you were initially disputing with, now you are both mad at The Unsolicited Mediator and must unite against the common enemy.
5-9-3 Combos: The Amoral Monster. Not much seems to bother them, which is nice at first until you realize their “tolerance” stems from the fact that they have no sensibilities to offend. They lack conviction and will use flimsy, pulled-out-of-ass logic to dodge responsibilities and defend their selfish decisions.
5-9-4 Combos: The Pretentious Hippie. The most reclusive of all the archetypes. You aren’t good enough to be their friend, so don’t even try. You’re not on their level and you harsh their vibes, man. They tend to be very unhappy unless they’re living in a sustainable homestead in the middle of nowhere. Bitches about how the Internet is destroying our minds but spends most of their time online anyway.
6-1-2 Combos: The Sanctimonious Sap-Addict. They talk as if they live in a Hallmark card, chain e-mail, or cheesy coming-of-age film. They probably feel really guilty about dumb things, and then you start wondering if you should, too. They tend to be religious and intolerant of those who don’t share their views or ways of life. Thankfully the ways they tend to show this intolerance are pretty harmless - panicking and crying. Nobody can stand to listen to them because, despite the motivational tone of their messages, they make everyone around them feel awful for not being as wholesome as they are.
6-1-3 Combos: The Thought Police. Similar to The Cipher (6-9-3 Combos), but more prone to forcing their boringness on others. While the Cipher avoids personality clashes by either blending in with or withdrawing from those with different priorities, those of the Thought Police archetype wage a crusade against them by asserting the moral superiority of their way of life. They have convinced themselves they are perfect so to avoid the emotional pain of having to re-evaluate their lives, but in order to maintain this illusion, they must live in an echo chamber. Don’t put them in the same room as the 6-1-2, it’s not a pretty sight.
6-1-4 Combos: The Ball of Self Hatred. Nobody wants to listen to these people, no matter how good their ideas might be, because they can’t even listen to themselves - even when they want to. They certainly have minds of their own, unfortunately, they don’t tend to use them unless it’s convenient (Spoiler Alert: it rarely is.) They ruin their own lives by repressing positive emotions, ruminating on wrongdoings (both theirs and those of others), and being unable to trust or feel good about anything unless it is completely beyond criticism.
6-8-2 Combos: The Overbearing Meddler. Anything they wouldn’t do is a bad idea that you need to be scared and bullied out of. This also goes for many things they WOULD do, because they are hypocrites. They say it’s for your own good, but they wouldn’t know the first thing about that if it bit them on the nose because they live with their heads in their asses. They tend to have plenty of their own issues, which they chronically avoid by micromanaging others. More projection than a cinema multiplex.
6-8-3 Combos: The Overworked Grouch. These are people who cannot wind down for the life of them. This tendency would generally not affect anyone other than themselves, but it does because they get mad at other people for relaxing. They see others’ satisfaction with less as an affront because it means that maybe all their overwork was for nothing, but instead of giving relaxation a chance, they choose to act like arrogant dicks in hopes that others will change to suit them instead.
6-8-4 Combos: The Extremist. Fiercely and belligerently loyal to a set of beliefs that no one else shares. Believes their pet issue (frequently something that directly affects them) to be the center of the universe and ridicules opposing viewpoints. They might be nice to you if you agree with everything they say, but even then, they probably won’t - you come second to the crusade.
6-9-2 Combos: The Martyr. No will or interests of their own. Gives their entire life up for the sake of an individual or a group - and it’s usually a dysfunctional one. They don’t even complain if they aren’t appreciated or thanked (they don’t expect it), but Heaven forbid there comes a time when they are no longer needed. They will plunge into depression and impotent rage as they search desperately for another object of their overly-submissive affections.
6-9-3 Combos: The Cipher. Your next-door neighbor who thinks the street you live on is the center of the universe. It’s not completely certain that people of this archetype actually have personalities or if their attitudes and behavior are just absorbed from their surroundings and upbringing. They may be rigidly set in their ways or they may be a perpetually-shifting chameleon (depending on the order of the numbers) - there isn’t much in between, but either way, they’re unbelievably boring.
6-9-4 Combos: The Special Snowflake. They at least try to be interesting, if only on a superficial level, but can’t keep it up for very long. They might seem endearingly quirky until you meet the people they hang out with, who are all pretty much just like them. To their credit, they’re usually pleasant enough company in that they couldn’t be cruel if they tried (though they are plenty judgmental in their thinking), but their flakiness and squirrely behavior usually prove too annoying for anyone to really keep them around for long.
7-1-2 Combos: The Wack-tivist. Thinks they’re hot stuff because they’ve helped out in a bunch of Third World countries. That’s great, of course, but it would be a lot better if they could shut up about it for five minutes. Excessively smug about all the different charity groups they participate in through their church and/or university while you just wonder where the hell they find the time and what you’re doing wrong with your life.
7-1-3 Combos: The Tweaker. Okay, so they may or may not actually use speed, but one thing is for sure; this archetype never sleeps. Ever. They have a full time job and several different hobbies, clubs, and volunteer groups, and they feel the need to excel and gain recognition within all of them. They are always on the go, but unlike the Overworked Grouch (6-8-3 Combos), they’re eerily chipper about it. In fact, they’re very sad when there’s nothing to do, because then they are forced to think about their feelings, which they are notoriously bad at. And it should be obvious how they feel about being bad at anything (Hint: it isn’t positively).
7-1-4 Combos: The Fanatic. A obnoxious mass of scatterbrained and stubborn behavior. Has their own personal brand of ethics and spirituality, which tends to involve a lot of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll. They at least practice what they preach, so that’s one good thing about them - unfortunately, they don’t ever really talk much about anything else. They just find a million different ways and contexts in which to talk about it.
7-8-2 Combos: The Bootstraps Idealist. Like the Overbearing Meddler (6-8-2 Combos), but with an extra dose of irresponsibility. They think the answer to all your problems is for you to do extremely difficult or extravagant things without considering whether or not you have the time or resources. Often refuses to acknowledge health issues (both mental and physical), as well. Any reason why you can’t do the things they are telling you to do is because of your lack of positive attitude instead of actual reality. Usually has more than a few terrible habits, but will try and fool you into thinking they have all their ducks in a row by giving faux motivational speeches.
7-8-3 Combos: The Inconsiderate Douche. It doesn’t really get any worse than this. Loud, obnoxious, and hopelessly shallow, a person of this archetype may seem very popular, but their circle of friends is a revolving door because they just won’t stop screwing people over for the sake of their ambitions or disregarding their feelings. Stay far, far away.
7-8-4 Combos: The Conspiracy Theorist. Being paranoid and accusing the government of hiding all kinds of scary, exciting things from us is fun for them. Imagining that there is at least one conspiracy that targets them personally is even more fun. What they don’t understand is that it isn’t as much fun for everyone around them. If you tell them you don’t believe them or even that you’re just sick of hearing about it, they flip their lid and go off about how you’re an idiot and just want to remain ignorant.
7-9-2 Combos: The Walking New-Age Store. This complete knob of an archetype has a saying or quote for everything, but never really seems to think critically about or have anything of their own to add to the words they are repeating. Hardly anyone has the heart to tell them how canned-corny and downright unhelpful they are, because they just seem so blissful and earnest. It would be like popping a hot air balloon, on every possible level.
7-9-3 Combos: The Goldfish. Completely without any self-awareness, this archetype flits perpetually from one superficial interest to the next. Unsurprisingly, they find very little satisfaction from anything, no matter how enthusiastically they may dive into it. The creepiest part about this is that they are so numb and hollow, they barely even notice how unsatisfied they are - they’ve fooled themselves into believing this is a happy existence.
7-9-4 Combos: The Entitled Vagabond. Goes on long road trips for no real reason, couch-surfing all the way. Quite possibly has no permanent address or bank account, and they are okay with this. Does a lot of odd jobs and possibly illegal things; has never had an actual job in their life, because it just isn’t their style, man. They’re actually not too insufferable as long as you don’t expect much from them and don’t mind their mooching. Unfortunately, whatever positivity they may bring to your life will be short-lived; as soon as they pick up and leave (which they will), they will all but forget you even exist.
~in which harry makes sure y/n is taken care of during their trip to the snow~
“I look like a marshmallow,” y/n giggles as Harry helps her into her third layer of sweaters and jackets.
“A’ least you’ll be a warm marshmallow, pretty girl.” Harry knows he won’t be able to live with himself if y/n happens to get a cold. According to y/n, a cold is no biggie, but she knows all too well how Harry’s attention to detail is everything when it comes to her. He always seems to know when something is even the slightest bit off with her and he always seems to find a way to make it all better.
Y/n sends a toothy grin her boyfriend’s way as he steps back to put a jacket on for himself. “Harry, please take one of these jackets,” she says raising her arms out on either side to emphasize the amount of unnecessary layers she has on. “You didn’t have to give me one of yours. You know it’s possible for you to freeze too, right?”
Harry is definitely aware of y/n’s stubborn nature and doesn’t want to start bickering before they mosey outside to revel in the snow. Instead, he takes the jacket off of y/n’s diminutive frame and puts it on his own. Harry points a finger at y/n,“But I’ll have you know if yeh make one peep about being chilly I won’ hesitate to pull all meh layers off and throw them at yeh.”
The two walk hand in hand out of their cabin in Lake Tahoe and step into the white fluff. The snow is falling lightly on their heads and y/n parts her mouth to catch snowflakes on her tongue. Harry watches as she smiles, though her mouth is wide open. He admires the way her nose crinkles as the snowflakes land on her eyelashes, not to mention that there isn’t a trace of mascara on them. Oh, how he loves when y/n doesn’t wear makeup. Not only is she just as gorgeous, but it makes every single one of her features look remarkably soft and youthful. Y/n opens her eyes to meet Harry’s admiring ones.
Cas is sitting in the Bunker’s main room, going over some of Sam’s
research, when a dull clunk sounds next to him on the table. He glances
over at the noise to see Dean pushing a cassette towards him.
“What’s this?” Cas asks, looking up at Dean.
clears his throat, eyes darting away from Cas’, and taps two fingers on
the top of the cassette, “For when you’re on the road next.”
Cas takes the cassette in his hand, examining it between his fingers. Deans Top 13 Zepp Traxx.
“You made this for me?”
cheeks color, but he recovers quickly, with one of those
pleased-confident smiles of his. “Yep! Remember how I was talking the
other day about educating you on good music? Well, Zepp’s the best so I figured this would be a good place to start.”
you, Dean, I’ll make sure to take careful notes on my opinions about
each song,” Cas replies. He rubs a thumb over Dean’s handwriting on the
front and smiles, slipping the tape into the pocket of his suit jacket.
Dean chuckles, awkwardly stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Well, I expect a full report back.”
“I’ll make sure to call you after my first listen,” Cas replies, mouth tipping up into a smirk.
Cas leaves on his quest for Kelly Kline, he heads east first, driving
his rickety truck on the 36 towards Kansas City. He flicks on the local
classical station until it fizzes out two hours later and he remembers
the weight in his suit pocket.
Keeping one hand on the wheel, Cas
digs the tape out of his pocket and pushes it into the tape deck. Dean
didn’t tell him the track listing, so Cas doesn’t know for sure which
songs are on here. The first song starts off with a roaring guitar and
Cas has definitely heard this one before. He smiles, tapping his fingers
on the steering wheel to the beat. Images filter through his mind of
Dean singing at the top of his lungs, very out of tune, and slamming his
hands against the steering wheel like it’s a drum set.
song ends and the second starts, just as fast as the first, but with a
quicker beat of drums and guitars. Robert Plant sings – well Cas isn’t
sure singing is the correct word, it’s more like yell-singing – about
Rock N’ Roll. Cas does, however, understand the appeal to this man’s
voice. It’s rough, but in a strangely enchanting and seductive way. He
wonders if this, aside from the musical quality, is what drew Dean to
love this band. After the first three songs, all upbeat, and obviously
rock songs, the fourth slows down a bit, starting with a ballad-like
guitar and a haunting whistle in the background. Ah, yes. Stairway to
Heaven. It’s a beautiful song, untrue, since there is no possible way
for anyone to buy a stairway to heaven, and portals are the only access
to heaven now. The song may be rather romantic in its idealism, but Cas
can clearly picture Sam and Dean as kids sprawled out in the backseat,
listening to this song, while their father drives, headlights piercing
Brian, I really want to create comics. Unfortunately though I'm awful at drawing and illustrating, how can I improve?
also, let’s get over this ‘I can’t draw a thing’ horseshit once and for all.
That’s not an excuse. you can make comic books with stick figures, found art, dots, money…
all you have to do was tell your story with clarity.
and think about how most famous rock ‘n roll singers are not actually technically excellent singers. in fact most artists and filmmakers who really touch us do so with technically flawed art. it is the flaws that move us.
the best cartoonists and comic book creators are not always the best drafts people. they are expressing themselves through their art, sometimes messy, sometimes childlike, sometimes seemingly amateurish but still it moved us…
stop standing in your own way. make some pages. see what you have to offer.
Cole Sprouse Opens Up About Growing Up in the Public Eye.
Cole Sprouse once left his Disney mouse ears behind for a cap and gown, but he’s recently pulled on another famous hat—or, should we say, crown beanie? Sprouse returned to the small screen this year as the lovably brooding Jughead Jones on Riverdale, the CW’s twisted take on the beloved Archie comics.
If you haven’t heard of the Gossip Girl–meets–Twin Peaks hit, you’re probably the only one. Since its premiere in January, it’s become a cult favorite. If he were any other member of the cast, Sprouse might be overwhelmed with the fame and recognition. But he’s been here before.
We talked to the 24-year-old about life as a child star with his twin brother, Dylan, weird fan interactions, feminism, and those divisive Riverdale ships.
A lot of the Disney cohort went on to major acting careers and projects right away—what made you choose to go to college and take a different route?
I think regardless of success, all those kids were dealing with a similar dilemma when it came to their maturity and their publicity and fame, and how they were viewed in the public eye. Some people choose sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll to come to terms with it. Some people find religion. [College] seemed like the most productive way to prove to people we were coming into ourselves. I was finding out my identity and growing by going to an institution where I could evolve and become more adept at understanding why I was thinking certain things, and how society viewed me.
Acting requires a great amount of empathy for real lived human experiences. I hadn’t lived any real human experiences outside of homeschool and being in a sound stage, and there was really no other option. I couldn’t continue to live in a bubble and hope to be an empathic actor. It doesn’t work. I was really sick of the entertainment industry and wanted to step away. Dylan and I were nonstop—we were being recognized and it was overbearing, and I figured it would be nice to let that dissolve. I didn’t know if I was going to return, and then this project sort of crept up.
Are you enjoying it now that you’re back?
Yeah, it’s fulfilling, and I think that’s the only currency I am looking for right now. As long as it stays fulfilling, I will continue doing it, but the second it stops being fulfilling I’ll leave.
What does your brother think of 'Riverdale’?
He supports the show…. I don’t know if he enjoys it. This kind of programming has never really been our flavor of choice. I don’t really want him to watch anything I do and I don’t really watch anything he’ll do. We have a very easy time separating work and play and I wouldn’t really care less if he watched or if he enjoyed it. I don’t really have an easy time watching myself, so I guess I sort of imprint that upon my friends and family.
Originally, you you argued to keep Jughead asexual and aromantic, as he is in the comics. What did those conversations sound like?
When we got the parts, the creative team sat down with the actors and asked how they saw each character. I had argued for a super faithful representation of Jughead as he lives in the comics, which inherently was also me arguing for the aromantic, asexual Jughead. But [they] are two very different versions of the same character in two very different universes.
It’s very strange to me how much attention this [has received]. I am an actor. I have an idea of what I see for the character and I can express that idea and that opinion, but ultimately it is out of my hands. If this were a different kind of programming or it were my show, it would probably look a little bit different, but the commercial success of Riverdale and how people are talking and liking it shows that we’ve gone in a direction that makes a lot of sense and works.
It’s one of those things that needs representation but has not been properly represented. It’s something I still fight for and it’s something I fought for about the second season, but ultimately it’s not in my court. I guess we will see where the narrative takes us.
On a lighter note, once and for all, because the internet can’t agree, is the Jughead/Betty ship called Jetty or Bughead?
[Laughs] I think it’s Bughead. It’s the single strangest name for a coupling ever, but it works.
There seem to be two main Riverdale fan ships: Bughead and Beronica (Betty/Veronica). Which one are you behind?
I actually really ship Betty and Archie. When I would read the Archie comics when I was younger I was rooting for Betty and Archie way over any alternative. [I think I would have seen] that long-lived, childlike romance from two people knowing each other since youth as probably quite romantic. I am a sucker for that childhood romance narrative.
I know our fans take very specific camps with who they ship and who they want and all those camps are at huge war with one another. Riverdale is about to ignite into flames considering how the camps are at war with each other. I try not to involve myself too much.
I am sorry I just brought you into it.
[Laughs] Well, the question we get all the time as a cast is, 'Are you a Betty or Veronica person?’ I don’t like that. I think it’s hard and it also puts the cast members against one another in a strange and competitive way that makes me a little uncomfortable. So most of our cast don’t even answer it.
How did your fan-catcher Instagram account @Camera_Duels get started? Are you ever going to bring it back?
I was younger and just about to go to college, and very discontented with the way people were treating me in the public sphere. Sometimes you can read someone’s aura and actions—they’re shifting and fidgeting, and they’re fumbling for the phone. It’s a dehumanizing, very obvious kind of thing.
I would always be dissatisfied that people wouldn’t just ask, because I always say yes. So @camera_duels was born. It was a way of coping or trying to turn it around in my favor and give me more agency in a situation. I felt sort of like a man behind a glass wall. It ended up really helping me, so much that I stopped. I found the whole thing not to really disturb me anymore.
I am sure with Riverdale increasing ever so slowly in prestige, it will only increase in intensity and I’ll bring it back. But I think it deserves something a little bit more now. I’ve been thinking about getting a film camera with a quick auto focus and a nice flash to make it into something that could be found in a gallery space, which I think would be more enjoyable to me.
You recently subtweeted yourself, over a comment you made as an 11-year-old, where you said you like girls who don’t wear too much makeup. Do you consider yourself a feminist?
There is no question I consider myself a feminist, but I also think the term 'feminist’ has become a topical thing to say without backing it up with any real action. My satirical tweet about my old opinion doesn’t solidify me as a figure within a conversation that’s so much greater than my straight, white male opinion. My Twitter is a joke toilet and I filter all these old, cringe-y parts of my brother and my childhood through that, in an attempt to flush it down the drain forever. When you grow older, you unpack the way masculinity teaches you to view women.
Going back to the question of whether I am a feminist or not: Yes. I think the core of that question is do you support equality for women, and of course. It’s funny that it even becomes a touchy or sensitive thing for people to announce formally, it’s kind of fucking ludicrous. There is not a question in my mind. There are, of course, places and spheres where I wish I would have done more to make those actions back up the title, but I think that’s something that as I grow and I age and I get a little more agency within my society, I’ll always try and work towards that.
A/N: I’ve had this idea for a while and I’ve just been thinking about it, trying to come up with how I wanted to write it, and I hope it makes sense. It’s basically just little blurbs of how Shawn would react to the different phases of Y/N as a person. I feel like ( at least for me) everyone has different sides to them, and I thought it would be cute to write about how a person ( Shawn ) falls in love with each and every different aspect of another person ( Y/N ). A lot of the phases are just basic emotions so yeah. I think I may do a part 2 to this if you guys like it.
Phase 1; Happy
Everyone has their own definition of happiness. Shawn had plenty of his own definitions. Being on stage of course was a big deal, that made him happy. There were plenty of things that made him feel good, but there were also plenty of things that made him sad. But something that he did know, was that Y/N made him happy. Seeing her happiness, is what made him feel the best. Like whenever he made her laugh, her eyes would get so small it looked like they were closed, and she got this little dimple below her lower lip if she was smiling big enough. Her laugh itself, was so contagious. She always tried her hardest not to laugh out loud, she hated her laugh. But he loved it. It was loud, and a little high pitched.
“High pitched enough to annoy someone!” is what she always said, but Shawn was never annoyed. He wished he could always be laughing with her. It was one of the best feelings in the entire world, to laugh with someone you love.
“I can’t breathe!” Shawn remembered her saying one night they spent together after one of his shows, and they sat on the floor of his dressing room, talking about something Geoff did that was apparently hilarious to her. She was laughing so hard, there were tears rolling down her cheeks, and she was rocking back and forth, holding her stomach. Shawn didn’t even think it was that funny, but seeing Y/N in a state like this, made him laugh. So that’s what they did. They just laughed until they ran out of breath, and once they stopped, she was still smiling, looking at Shawn. He remembered this moment vividly because, this was when he knew he loved her. During this time, everything clicked, it all made sense. Her energy was connecting with his, and the world was perfect. Everything was okay, and they both felt complete. Pure happiness. And he smiled so much that by the end of the night, his jaw hurt.
Phase 2; Focused
“What are you doing?” He remembers asking her this, one morning at some hotel. She was sitting on the balcony, with a little brush in her right hand, and a mirror in her left.
“Makeup.” She said, her eyebrows squishing together, creating a crease on her forehead. And whenever she was focusing really hard on something, she’d bite her bottom lip. Sometimes she’d even chew it until she tasted blood. Shawn loved watching her focus, he thought it was adorable. He would even make fun of her sometimes, and call her out on making a “concentrate face” as he called it.
“Busy with something?” He said to her once, as she concentrated on a game she was playing on her phone. Her lip was red from chewing it, and her eyes were squinted.
“What makes you think I’m busy?” She’d said not looking away from her game.
“You’re making that concentrate face!” He laughed simply. She just shook her head and continued to play. Shawn didn’t want to take her focus away, so he watched her play and each time she got a higher score on that silly game, he’d kiss the side of her head.
Phase 3; Sad
Shawn hated watching her cry, and he hated having to see her ever be sad. This was another reason he knew he loved her so much, because whenever she was sad, he did everything in his power to change that. And all he ever wanted was to see Y/N smile. He had many memories of her crying so hard she couldn’t even speak. It was always hard for Y/N to explain what her feelings were, but crying always made it harder.
“She…I, I had t-to go.” Shawn had a flashback
to when Y/N and her best friend/ roommate got into a huge fight, and Y/N had such a hard time explaining to Shawn that she had to leave her apartment because of how bad the argument was. Of course Shawn let her stay with him. And that night, he held onto her so tight, doing his best to calm her. He made her food, and tea, and cuddled her until she wasn’t crying anymore. There was even a point in this time, where he thought about calling her roommate, to try and make things okay, but Y/N only told him not to, and that this mess was hers to clean up. For the rest of that night Shawn rubbed her back, and whispered several I love you’s until she fell asleep with her mouth open.
Phase 4; Angry
Y/N was the type of person to break things when she got angry. She’d throw dishes while yelling, or chuck a pillow at Shawn whenever she was upset with him. She even had gotten bruises from punching the wall, or kicking the door. She wasn’t a violent person, she just hated having to hold in her anger for too long. Shawn understood.
Shawn remembers one night Y/N and him got into a heated argument about some disagreement they had. He barely remembers what it was about, but he does remember how Y/N acted.
“YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN TO SHUT UP DO YOU?” She interrupted Shawn, and yelled at the top of her lungs, her face was bright red and her eyes were glossy. Whenever she was this angry, she’d try not to cry by clenching her teeth and looking down, or walking away from him. Soon enough, she grabbed a mug on the counter filled with tea, and threw it across the room. It hill the wall, breaking into pieces, tea spilling everywhere. Shawn remembers getting angry at her for doing that, but he didn’t have the energy to yell at her the way she had yelled at him.
“You wanna break things now?” Shawn walked over to the coffee table in the living room of her apartment, and picked up the vase that sat in the middle of the table. It was old and empty so he figured she wouldn’t care. Hopefully her roommate wouldn’t care either, when she got back from shopping. Shawn hated that him and Y/N both were always having to clean up after arguments and lie to Y/N’s roommate, and hide the fact that they just threw tantrums. He did this often, whenever Y/N broke something he’d break something back, but he was always careful of what he broke so he didn’t make her even more angry. So he threw the vase in the same direction of the mug she broke and it shattered, falling to the floor with the mug.
“Fuck you YN”
“You wish Shawn.” Y/N rolled her eyes and walked straight out the door. This moment was strange for Shawn because he was incredibly upset with her, and he wanted to yell to the sky asking why she had to act the way she did sometimes. But when she said that snarky comment and walked out, moving her ponytail back and forth as she walked, Shawn was crazily in love with her. He was in love with the fire inside her, and he was in love with the way she acted like a queen, like she deserved better all the time. She was a queen, and she did deserve the absolute best. And so, Shawn being taken over by his emotions, followed Y/N out the door and chased her down until they worked out that argument, and ended it with apologies and a kiss.
Hi so I was wondering if I could have a sam x reader fic where the reader is sitting on Sams lap while he is reading or something and then tries to distract him but he is trying really hard to resist and then yeah smut smut smut @thecrossroad-demon
A/N: Here you are my dear! Thanks @eloginore for beta reading this! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. 😉
England's Newest Hitmakers:
hey guise!!1!1 let's form a band even though we're super broke! it's totally fine, Keith can steal food for us!!
if you drop acid and use a sitar... you're automatically the Beatles!1! we are all huge fans of holographic shiny things and our setup for the album cover is homemade!! we told Brian to come dressed as normal for this shoot! haha #Sgt.ppr's4lyfe!1!1!
Let it Bleed:
varying degrees of hillbilly and stuff that's actually cool. Brian is usually too stoned to cooperate.
Andy Warhol!!1!1 How to be cool 101!! no that is not Mick's crotch and ass. :))):):):)
Exile on Main Street:
ok guys, we gotta be cool and badass now which is exactly why we're gonna have Keith write Happy. more hillbilly stuff, Keith's backing vocals are 3x higher than Mick's vocals.
Goats Head Soup:
No Inflatable Penis On Stage Pls. "Star Star" (what?).
It's Only Rock n' Roll:
average Stones but of course Mick Taylor decides to steal my soul with Time Waits For No One
Mick can't keep up with all 19387382 women he's juggling. Petrol Blues is just 1:35 of Mick ranting in some kind of accent that actually isn't his.
Mick's pissed about some other girl. pretty good. Dance Pt. 1 is just mostly yelling but Keith's whistle tho.
Heaven is very soothing to listen to and so is Waiting For a Friend...tits and ass, dead men cumming?¿
Blue and Lonesome:
WELL GOSH GOLLY NEW STUFF. old men have a gr8 time and Mick kills me with his harmonica and then reincarnates me with his harmonica and then proceeds to kill me again. Ronnie's instagram post of his twins holding the LP also kills me.
“No Trump no KKK no fascist USA. Y'know what? We’re definitely- we gonna move forward. We’re gonna let that asshole stay behind. Because the world, you can feel it progressively- we gonna make the shit better. Because I do believe that Rock n Roll music can change the fucking world. Call me naive, all you want, I don’t give a shit. Because this is where my heart is. This is what I see. I see it everyday. And I see great people, and people coming together, dancing and singing. This is what’s it all about. We all come from fucked up background but the great thing is, we can get fucked up together right?” - Billie Joe Armstrong [x]
Well I saw the thing coming out of the tree It had lots of spots, and colored green I commenced to shakin’ and I said “ooh-wee” It looks like a cricket treatie eater to me
It was a green back, white-spot, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater (Green back, white-spot, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater) Green back, white-spot, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater Sure looks strange to me (Green skin?)
Well he came outta the tank and on a pink tree I said “Mr. Cricket Treatie Eater, don’t eat me” I heard him say in a voice so gruff “I wouldn’t eat you ‘cause you’re too tough”
It was a green back, white-spot, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater (Green back, white-spot, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater) Green back, white-spot, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater Sure looks strange to me (White dots?)
I said Mr. Cricket Treatie Eater, what’s your line He said it’s eatin’ cricket treaties and it sure is fine But that’s not the reason that I came to land “I wanna get a job in an all-star frog band”
Well, bless my soul, rock ‘n roll, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater Sticky-toed, jolly ol’, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater (We wear jackets) Friendly little treatie eater What a sight to see (Oooh)
And then he hopped from the tree and he lit on the ground And he started to croak, really rockin’ around It was a crazy ditty with a swingin’ tune Singin’ “bop boop aboopa lopa lum bam boom”
Well bless my soul, rock ‘n’ roll, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater Sticky-toed, jolly ol’, jumpin’ cricket treatie eater (So delicious) Jumpin’ cricket treatie eater What a sight to see (Cricket treaties?)
And then he went on his way, and then what do you know I saw him last night on a TV show He was a croakin’ it out, and really knockin’ them out Playin’ rock 'n roll music through the sac on his mouth
(musical croak solo)
What a fantastic song! 😀 Thank you very much! 🐸😀
Tiny is so happy to have a song written all about him! 😊🐸😄
He is definitely a very enthusiastic cricket treatie eater!
He says thank you and sends you 1000 kissies and a washing machine of hugs! 😊🐸😊
“Are you two sure about this?” y/n questioned standing bare at the top of a cliff, arms in front of her chest hiding her tits from the world while her lower half was open for all to see. She would’ve minded more if the two at the bottom of the cliff currently floating weren’t two of her best friends, but then again, those boys had been through a lot with her.
“Come on, y/n. Don’t be a chicken. The water’s great!” Calum yelled up to her as she bit her lip taking a half step away from the edge. It was a midsummer night, the air still warm, but not as humid as it had been during the day. This whole scenario had come from a drunken night in their hotel room a week prior, y/n stating she’d always wanted to do something daring, but never getting the chance because she was usually quite reserved…in public at least. But, she’d do just about anything with those two boys…even stand naked on a cliff at midnight.
Tonight was no different, all three having sculled five or six beers before actually making their way to this cliff, the boys being first to rid themselves of their clothes, leaving them in all of their glory, Calum jumping in first as Michael waited, watching y/n slip her clothes off with giggles escaping her lips. Now, here they were trying to coax the girl into jumping into the water.
“What if I hit a rock and get impaled,” she shouted down as Michael rolled his eyes towards her.
“If you don’t get your ass in this water, I’m going to push you in,” he threatened causing her to gulp, shaking out her limbs before taking a running start over the edge. She landed with a hard splash, resurfacing seconds later with a slight scream leaving her lips.
“You fucking lied, Calum. It’s cold as fuck,” she whined, body submerged in water up to her shoulders as both boys laughed. “Someone hold me.”
“As you wish,” Calum said still laughing pulling the girl towards him, her legs wrapping around his waist. “Wasn’t this a great idea?”
“No. I’m cold. I’m wet. And I’m naked,” she huffed resting her head on his bare chest as he laughed, moving backwards to a shallower end, Michael following behind.
“I thought you liked being wet and naked,” Michael tease as she rolled her eyes flipping him off.
“Yeah, well, the cold cancels that out completely. I’d kill for a hot bubble bath right now,” she said back letting go of Calum, walking out of the water shivering. She mentally cursed herself for not grabbing a towel back at the hotel, having to settle for her shirt to dry her off.
“You know, y/n, Cal and I know of other ways to warm,” Michael said walking out of the water behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, chin resting on his shoulder lightly. His warm hands, compared to her freezing body, caused goosebumps to rise on her skin as she shivered against his touch. He placed light kisses on her shoulder as she closed her eyes letting her body conform to his leaning into him as his grip tightened. “You want that, don’t you?” He let his hand slip down between her legs rubbing at her clit as she gripped onto his arms.
“Look at you, y/n, you just wanna be touched,” Cal whispered standing in front of her as she opened her eyes slightly watching him. “Want us to warm you up?” She nodded her head slowly as he smirked kissing her softly. “We’ll take care of you.” She felt Michael’s fingers slip inside of her as Calum started massaging her tits, a soft moan escaping her lips at the feeling of the two sets of hands on her.”You like that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Cal,” she moaned as Michael pulled his finger from her bringing them to his lips as she whimpered.
“Don’t worry princess. We’re gonna take care of you,” Michael said starting to stroke his length as Cal pulled her towards him kissing her softly, hands running up and down her sides lightly, fingertips barely grazing her skin as she shivered once again. She brought her hand down rubbing at Calum’s length slowly teasing him, thumb flicking over the head every so often as she started kissing down his neck. “Cal, mouth or pussy?” Cal watched Michael stroke himself as Michael watched y/n kiss down Cal’s body to his cock, not hesitating to slip his length in her mouth.
“I’ll keep her mouth,” he moaned running his hand through her hair as she looked up at him with doe eyes looking as innocent as she possibly could while choking on one of her friend’s cocks. “You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock, y/n.”
“Ass up, Sweetheart,” Michael said watching her pull cal out of her mouth, getting up off her knees bending over to suck him off, ass up and out ready for whatever was going to happen. “I wish we were back at the hotel…would fill both your holes back here up.” She whimpered at his words, Cal tugging her back to his cock while Michael started fucking her from behind, both boys thrusts matching each other, as she was being fucked in her pussy and her mouth. “God you’re tight,” Michael groaned, y/n barely moaning through the sounds of her choking on Calum’s cock halfway down her throat as he moaned quietly, tugging hard on her hair.
“You’re so good at this baby…taking our cocks at the same time like such a good girl,” Cal cooed as his thrusts slowed allowing her to breath as he slowly fell out of her mouth with a pop. “Can I fuck your ass pretty girl?” She nodded her head, a raspy moan leaving her lips from the soreness in her throat as Michael pulled out as well holding onto her shaking body so she wouldn’t fall over. He turned her around so this time her ass was facing Cal and her head was pointed towards Michael. Cal ran his fingers through her folds collecting her arousal using it to lube her puckered hole before sliding a finger inside.
“Fuck…god Cal,” she moaned as Michael smirked, watching his best friend finger his other friend’s ass. The hand not finger fucking her was caressing the skin on her backside. “Want me to suck it Mikey?’
“Not yet princess..,” he said back, hand slowly stroking his length to keep himself erect as Calum added another finger stretching her out as she cried out in pleasure. “You like Cal’s fingers up your ass?”
“Y-yes,” she moaned out as he started scissoring his fingers stretching her more.
“You’re such a dirty girl, y/n…I bet you’d love it if Mikey and I DP’d you…I’d love to fuck your ass while Michael fucks your pussy…maybe even get Ashton or Luke to fuck your mouth so all your holes will be filled.” She moaned at the vulgar words that left Calum’s mouth, legs shaking as he pulled his fingers out, only to be replaced seconds later by his cock prodding at the same hole, only significantly larger than his two fingers that were in moments before. “Let me know if I hurt you, kay sweetheart?” She nodded her head, eyes fixated on Michael as his free hand caressed her face, Calum slowly entering her bare, her arms reaching forward gripping Michael’s thighs as she bit her lip trying to suppress the screams dying to escape. “Holy fuck…how are you doing y/n.”
“M-more,” she managed to let out, Calum continuing his voyage further in, wanting to get the entirety of his length to the all the way inside before even attempting to start fucking her. Her nails dug deeper into Michael’s thighs, his bottom lip becoming trapped between his teeth as the pain turned into pleasure running right to his cock, his length twitching in his hand watching her face contort with a mix of pain and pleasure as well. “How…,,” she started not being able to finish her question.
“Little more sweetheart,” Cal moaned debating on if he should just ram the rest into her and let her get used to him that way, deciding to go with it, quickly thrusting his hips, but not to hard causing her to scream out, gripping Michael tighter breaking the skin on his thighs. Calum squeezed his eyes shut gripping her hips tightly trying to control himself from just pounding into her tight hole relentlessly.
“Move Cal,” she whimpered pulling Michael towards her so his cock was right in front of her face. She replaced his hand with hers stroking him quickly letting her spit fall from her mouth onto him for more lube as Calum started slowly thrusting inside of her, moans escaping both of their lips until she took Michael’s length in her mouth deep throating him instantly almost sending him over the edge then and there.
“Fuck…,” he moaned gripping her hair, Calum’s thrusts slowly getting quicker (oxymoron…?) pushing her into Michael as he thrusted into her mouth slowly. It wasn’t nearly as rough as it had been when the rolls were reversed, but still just as pleasurable for all three. “Squeeze my balls princess.” She did as she was told taking one hand off his thigh using it to roll him in the palm of her hand, a loud moan escaping his lips as his thighs started to shake, his orgasm approaching quickly.
“God, who knew you were so dirty, y/n,” Cal moaned slapping her ass, a yelp barely escaping her around Michael’s cock, the action being repeated two more times, her legs shaking as her own orgasm approached. “I can feel you getting tighter, baby. You gonna cum?” he asked, moving quicker and harder chasing his own orgasm, her screams muffled by his cock which only pushed Michael over the edge from the vibrations moving through her mouth. His cock twitched in her mouth as his cum spilled down her throat , y/n swallowing it all moaning at the taste of him. Calum was next to go, his seed filling her ass making her feel that much fuller sending her over her edge, cum squirting down her legs as her body shook violently from her orgasm, Calum holding her up as her legs gave out, Michael laughing as she whimpered at the feeling of Calum pulling out of her and his cum dripping down out her.
“You alright there?” Michael teased as she hummed, leaning up into Calum for support as he pulled her into her chest.
“Let’s get you back to the hotel,” Cal chuckled kissing her forehead as he helped her get dressed, Michael following right behind them.
[Letter from Richey Edwards to Alistair Fitchett, transcription below]
Sat 12 Jan
“Cut word lines – Cut music lines –
Smash the Control Images – Smash the Control Machine – Burn the
books – Kill the priests – Kill! Kill! Kill!” - William
Thanks for the letter. Pretty
inspiring, after all the tons of bullshit mail we get. It arrived on
Wednesday just as we were about to leave for London (again). At last
someone who understands the Situationists etc. We actually went up to
meet Jamie Reid. Still so full of hate and desire to change. Anyone
who turned a portrait of the Queen in a mass image must be cool.
Popularism. Afterwards we had an age long interview with Sounds. A
definite 2 page article, probable front cover. I don’t feel a
prostitute for appearing in the music papers. Like you said, there is
nothing wrong with HYPE if the goal is not profit. Best of all it’s
not even hype cos the papers ask to talk to us. It’s been so long
since they’ve met an intellectual band. Last night we played a public
school in Surrey and turned the place upside down. The assembled
forces of WEA/EMI/SONY/DEFJAM were all there and none can understand.
That we reject the audience. That we smash our instruments etc. We
celebrate our own obsolete form. That there is no value in production
line product. That for every broken Gibson guitar there is another
one off the shelf tomorrow. Capitalism ruins. Nothing is personal or
of value. They are all so dumb. WAR starts in a few days – the A+R
men accept that; they accept bodybags, amputees, cripples, walking
wounded, but they can’t accept a smashed guitar. On stage we destroy
ourselves, we destroy our form of communication. Cos deep down we
know music is irrelevant to real life. That’s what MOTOWN JUNK is
about. About how music sometimes offers salvation and inspires but
you still gotta face the poverty of work, life, forever. We realized
it a long time ago.
The first verse goes
“Never ever wanted to be with you All
you ever gave was the boredom I suffocate in Adrift in cheap dreams don’t stop the
rain Numbed out in piss towns just wanna dig their graves.”
And that last line sums it up. Here I
am, in a shithole home town and INSPIRAL CARPETS talk about T-shirts
sales in LA. Is that gonna save me??
All our songs offer is NEGATIVITY,
CHAOS, DESPAIR. I realize when you say that we should offer more but
that’s not what we’re about. We wanna create so much hate that
we get swept away, we get destroyed. We are building our musical
career on weak foundations that are designed to collapse within a
year of our 1st number one. We are the last rock n’ roll
band. Rock n’ roll is dead. But it’s our only culture. ‘Suicide
Alley’ spat on its corpse. We wanna be gone as soon as possible. The
biggest statement we can make is to become the biggest band in the
world and then immediately split up.
And that’s what I don’t understand
about Kevin Pierce (Esurient). I got a letter from him calling us
“faggots…cowards, etc”. Faggots because we wear eyeliner (We
wear eyeliner cos we wanna be seen as D.I.Y. style, surgeons, an
attempt to uglify ourselves; the same reason we spray our clothes
with slogans) and cowards because we smash equipment i.e. rock n’
roll cliche. Surely the biggest cliche is just being in a band, just
standing there and singing. That cliche is thousands of years old.
Believing in auto-destruction may be old-hat but at least there’s a
reason behind it. What reason trad rock format? Also he said we we
were pathetic appearing in N.M.E. Surely the biggest crime is not
appearing at all. Would Marx be a better person if he had never put
his thoughts to paper? Would Lenin be better if he realized there
would be revolution and then did nothing about it? I don’t think so.
Our aim is to reach as many people as possible. BY ANY MEANS
NECESSARY. We’re on SNUB TV on January 21st and MARK
GOODIER session Jan 28th. A tour starts Jan 23rd.
We’re off to Paris to meet some still revolutionaries in March and
then there’s a chance we’ll be working with the Bomb Squad (Public
Enemy producers) early summer in New York. And that will produce the
most vicious song ever. Anyway, thanks for the tape. Unfortunately we
are completely familiar with every single song. But I’ve used the
tape for some of our songs.
1/ REPEAT – Repeat after me Death sentence heritage Death camp palace Royal Khmer Rouge Imitation Demi-gods Useless Generation of Dumb flag scum Repeat After Me, Fuck Queen and Country
2/ METHADONE PRETTY -I accuse history, I accuse I don’t need your history
3/ FACELESS SENSE OF VOID We blur into images of state coercion Classified machines die misunderstood City reflections pour out misery We don’t count, so we hate
4/ YOU LOVE US – Until I see love in
statues Your lessons drill inherited sin
5/ GENERATION TERRORISTS Jam your brains with broken heroes Love your masks and adore your chaos MP’s dress up now TV is danger Westminster more ugly than a gas
chamber Don’t wanna see your face Don’t wanna hear your words Why don’t you just fuck off
6/ SOUL CONTAMINATION Everyone stares with the glaze of
obsession Interlocking cartels bypassing the bone The empty statement of art school
dissension Institutionalized expression of mass
7/ DEMOCRACY COMA Parliament mother of the United Nations Mother of history’s dead sun, dead scum D.N.A. of restriction and law Death, famine, darkness, and war I don’t see happy homes but the Belfast Wall, In Walkman Sounds hear Sony control
8/ MOTOWN JUNK Communal tyranny a jail that bleeds our
9/ SORROW 16 Cut your hair in front of businessmen Kill yourself and censor health Destroy work and ignore their truth Wanna die and have never worked The wall is a reason for you to believe There’s too many numbers for us to
10/ WE HER MAJESTY’S PRISONERS England’s glory lives on in worldwide genocide. So celebrate Buchenwald as her Majesty’s heir. Now an obsolete face on a currency of illusion. No matter what we own we can’t buy freedom.