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kyotakumrau · 4 years

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2021.03.10 USEN STUDIO COAST 1st session with Toshiya and Kyo

They changed the tables for some reason, going from two bigger rectangle ones to four one person round high tables.

Fujieda and Takabayashi came on stage, F greeted fans as usual and asked for the applause for the band members.

After a moment of waiting with bated breath, Toshiya appeared and Kyo after him.

Kyo wore a big light grey coat, white shirt, black (most likely Madara)short shorts, white socks with red print and big sneakers.

Toshiya had white shirt, pearls?, and black slacks.

They sat in order Ta, T, K, F from right to left.

T: [As it's an official event] so, I'm Toshiya, the bassist from DIR EN GREY.

K: I'm Kyo.

F: It's 1st time for T to attend a talk event this year, how do you feel?

T: normal.

F: you've played here even as the venue has a new name. But it's been while. How do you feel K?

K: just usual.

F: you don't feel like it's been a while?

K: not really.

T: playing at Rock-May-Kan definitely made me feel it's been a while. The place is so small. We played with no audience, it was a first time in RMK which felt so strange.

F: rehearsal felt normal.

T: yeah.

F: anything from then?

T: it was nice to see all the staff.

F: how about you, K? We watched the live footage in February, anything feels different?

K: ... I don't remember it anymore.

F: the recording was done a long time ago.

K: Can't remember. At all.

F: I want to ask... (K just started staring at him and that was the end of it😂).

Next, F talked about the leaflet (he also mentioned how awesome it is that camera can move and zoom in this time, was it for K?😆), the photo being quite shocking/impactful. Was shooting hard? Finished really quickly, right?

T: Yeah.

K: it was refreshing. I said it was refreshing/cool, I didn't lie. It's like coolness in summer. It's auspicious/celebratory. Celebrating being born. When you're being born it's never pretty. So I didn't lie before, not even once, I said it's like a cool wind, I just didn't say anything about the celebration part to avoid spoiling it.

F: so far K said Oboro is refreshing, like Taiyou no Ao, Kaoru said it's refreshing, but more like Myaku remix. Shinya said it's like '肉付きに龍(flesh and dragon)' How about you, T?

T: you will know when you listen to it. It's not something that can be explained with words.

F: what about TDFF?

K: it's also refreshing. I listened to the file yesterday, it's like a cream soda, refreshing with a bit of a mellow hint.

F: Vanilla flavor?

K: maybe not just vanilla, mixing other stuff in until it almost spills.

F: what do you think T?

T: ...so, refreshing then.

F: ok, it's refreshing.

K: and auspicious.

And auspicious.

F read the info about the May show in Tokyo Garden Theater and fans clapped.

T: it's been over a year since our last show in Japan, I'm really looking forward to it. In this condition holding concerts is not entirely called for, but we as DIR EN GREY have decided to do it. If you're able to please come.

K: it's been a long time since the last concert. But. Isn't it a weekday? Utterly a weekday. It's almost like bullying [the fans]. Shouldn't we try to book a better date for such an important concert? This is really so much like us.

F: it's just after Golden Week (a week long holiday in Japan).

K: people will be so busy getting back to work. (after F encouragement to say something inviting) So, I'm looking forward to the show when people will have to work because it's weekday (sarcasm by Kyo 👌)

Next was merchandise corner. F again asked us and band members to look at the flyer.

F: T, are there any items you really like?

T: all of them.

F: Shinya uses the tote bag in private now.

K: Did you actually saw him use it?

F: he had it yesterday.

K: huh.

Ta: can we really say yesterday was using it in private though?

Next F showed us the hoodie and the towel, holding the towel up.

K: you should present it more properly.

F held it properly so we could see the whole towel, but K continued to give him dissatisfied look😆

Next F talked about the travel pouch saying it's useful when you travel on the tour you can hang it as it has a small hook.

K started to point out the problems with F explanation, where to hang it, isn't it better to just put on the table, the hook is then useless. A hook for a bag you will put on the table, what. You're terrible at explaining the merch.

😂

T: isn't that for shower room?

F: to put shampoo in and so on?

K just stares at F, that face oh my🤣

F: we talked about it being for shower stuff but we worried about it being waterproof.

K: You actually don't know, do you?🤦‍♂️ are you a scam? Why don't you know??? You should know more about the items!

F: I will properly check!

K: with who?

F: with the merchandiser!

K just looked at him😂

F: but you can probably use it safely in the shower💦

Kyo stared...🤣

F: T, do you have any favorites?

T (after giving him a look): I said all.

F: you, K?

K: the hoodie. The picture in the back was done by my tattoo artist, on my request. I really like it.

F passed them their keychains, K just kept staring at them.

T: why are there 2 types?

F: I wonder. It's for Ochita, so one normal outfit and one bloody. Details are really nice.

And then it was time for the questions from fans.

F: there are many questions about movies, anime etc you've watched recently. K?

K: Evangelion. Not gonna spoil it, but please watch it on a big screen.

T: I want to watch Eva!

F: Ta, are you also an Eva fan?

Ta: I watched the old series, haven't seen the new ones.

Ta: there are many Q to and about F. "Most band members are from Kansai, F do you feel alienated by that?"

F: I'm from Tokyo, but not even a bit.

Ta: where exactly? Do you go back a lot?

F: my old neighborhood doesn't change, it's actually around here. Definitely no alienation.

F: "what's your favourite icecream?" There are many Q asking about sweets. How about you, K?

K: Icecream, I like Cola flavoured Sacre. And the melonpan with icecream inside, when I see that in the shop I always buy like 3. Recently not many shops have it.

F: so when you see it you always get them.

K: Yes.

F: get like 3.

K: Yes.

F: how about you, T? Recently it's a bit cold.

T: hah! I don't recently eat icecream. But I like fruity ones. I like rum raisin.

F: any questions you like, T?

While T was deciding which Q to read K just popped his papers on F's desk😂

T: "what was your first impression of other members when you first met? And how have they changed?"

F: so T will tell us about K.

T: the impression when we first met?

K: was it at Farm? In Nagoya?

T: Farm? I went to see some taiban event at GIO and we met there.

F: where is GIO?

T: in Ichikawa. And we talked there. Has he changed? Of course he has, but I thought he is someone who can laugh very carefree.

F: it was a taiban event of different bands.

T: yeah.

F: How about T, K?

K: it's bit muddled, but I remember best T playing guitar. And the strongest memory I have is T going crazy playing guitar.

F: how about other members? Kaoru?

T: I remember we didn't talk much, just said hi.

F: you met them at GIO. what about Die?

T: he was very talkative, very easy to talk to.

F: Shinya?

T: just passed by.

F: you didn't talk?

T: Just hello.

F told them how D described meeting S. Then he asked Kyo about Kaoru.

K: we met at taiban event, he was playing guitar in a band called Charm. I was impressed with his photo on the flyer. I thought he was very cool, and calm.

F: what ablut Die?

K: I found him through a flyer looking for new band members I thought he was cool. and then there was a taiban.

F: what about S?

K chuckled first😂: I remember he had a bob hair and a very long earring, just one, like a chain. And that earring was moving when he was talking. I remember that.

Ta: has he changed?

K: His looks changed, but he didn't change inside.

Ta: oh.

K: Just gradually ...got weirder. I think he hates humans. But he has many friends he does riddles with. He knows so many people, too many, he uses social media so much, I have no idea who he's hanging out with, but he even has photos with Dewi Sukarno. He probably doesn't hate humans, just hates his band members. Hates people who know about the past.

😂

Ta: "S said he's using tour merch like tshirts, how about you?"

T: 使うやつが使うね・I use stuff that's ok to use. From this event I'd use the travel pouch and usb.

K: I use our items a lot, like towels or hoodies.

F: "what's your favourite meat cut?"

K: skirt steak.

T: skirt steak or offal.

F: I love skirt steak too! - he the continued to talk about meat how good are some parts until he noticed both T and K looks🤣

F: " do you prefer bath or shower? What time do you take bath?"

K: in the evening. But when I have a fresh tattoo I can't take a bath for about 2 weeks, then I take a shower.

F: do tattoos hurt in a bath?

K: They hurt or sting. It's like an injury so like a cut it stings in a bath. Did you think tattos are like a stamp?!

F: it seems it's tough.

Ta: you know tattoos are allowed in our company...

I loved Ta's jab, but what came after this from Kyo was just pure ❤️🤣

K: I will even buy a tattoo machine and do it so you F can get a tattoo.

F: what kind of desing?

K: a giraffe. On your back. Wouldn't it be more scary than oni or a dragon? I'm serious (he was trying so hard not to laugh😂), it's the scariest option, a giraffe.

F: you would design it?

K: Of course. A yellow one. Guys who have scribble/doodle like tattoos are the really scary ones! A yellow giraffe.

F: Let me think about it.

K: please do!

🤣🤣🤣

F: how about you T, a bath or shower?

T: sometimes a lomg bath, sometimes a ahort one, sometimes a shower.

T: "do you eat sweets?" I don't really. if anything, then chocolate.

F: what type?

T: My favorite was Kirinokibune (霧の浮舟, a bit like Aero. Has been discountinued).

F: I'll check it, you K?

K: isn't half of me sweets?😆

F: what do you like recently?

K: cookies, chocolate cookies.

F: from Morinaga? (big chocolate company in Japan, you can find it in every supermarket etc)

K: Morinaga? I don't like soft cookies, they have to be hard, chocolate cookie with chocolate. Recently, near Harajuku station there's a shop with a red fluffy character that looks like MUCC, I love their cookies.

Then F suggested sth only older people would know it and if looks could kill F would be anihilated by K on the spot🤣

F: last Q, let's choose something easy to answer.

F: "what do you like to eat with rice? I like umeboshi (pickled plum)"

T: in Nagano we eat nametake.

F was a bit clueless how to eat it etc and made T explain more.

F: you K?

K: I don't care. Don't you just eat it with side dishes? No one eats only rice with pickled plum? It's not postwar period!

F: so what side dishes do you like?

K: Sushi.

🤣

F: ...sushi?? Isn't that a bit different??

K: you eat fish with rice, no?

F: so what sushi do you like?

K: fatty cut of flounder fin(あぶりのえんがわ)

And finally last comments:

Toshiya: thank you for today, DIR has decided to hold a concert with audience in May, please come if you can. But you have to decide that for yourself. We made our decision.

Kyo: I don't have anything, as usual. ...your t-shirts will increase, it's hard for people living far from Tokyo, nothing much to say.

F: you mean you will like to see everyone in May and so on?

K: I said I have nothing to say, didn't I?!💢

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #toshiya #目黒鹿鳴館gig #爆音会 #talk event #attempt at live report #新木場studio coast

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

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That’s The Way

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is kind of an introductory/fluff chapter if you will :)

Story summary: Y/N Y/L/N, an ordinary seventeen-year-old girl, gets pulled into the world of rock and roll on a fateful night at the Marquee Club in London when she experiences the musical phenomenon of the Five Live Yardbirds. She grows up fast, navigating her way through the downfall of The Yardbirds, the legendary skyrocket of Led Zeppelin, era-defining decadence instigated by the ‘60s and ‘70s mindset of free love and personal gratification, and finding the courage to express how she fell deeply in love with one of modern music’s greatest guitarists.

Author’s notes (from Molly of rebel-without-a-zeppelin): Hi everyone! A little disclaimer on my part: this is the first story I’ve ever shared for public consumption. I’ve been toying with this idea in my mind for a very long time now, and I’ve finally mustered up the courage to share it with you all. I hope you like it. I am incredibly honored to collaborate with Syd on this project; this is truly our baby, as it has a very long, detailed, intricate plot, so saddle up for lots (and lots) of drama! This is also a sloooowwwww burn, like really, really slow lol. Over the course of the story, please feel free to send me your theories and comments; I would absolutely love to read them. Please enjoy, and happy reading!

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3 May 1965

The sound of a car horn beeped incessantly from the front of Y/N’s house. Dropping her backpack down on her bedroom floor with an annoyed huff, she sprinted down the steps. She never did get enough time to prepare, and it was no different today. With her friend Carolyn in tow, Y/N made a beeline for the front door, the click-clack of her Oxford shoes pounding across the hardwood floor. Y/N’s mum, who nonchalantly strolled out of the laundry room with an armful of freshly washed and folded bath towels, leant against the doorframe.

“Now remember Y/N: no drinking, no drugs, no sex. No going home with strange musician guys, nor are you allowed to go to their hotel,” her mum instructed calmly, knowing she’d receive an eye roll from the girl. Her stern expression at home on her gracefully-aged face, the girls receive the speech they get every time they go out. “You too, C. Even though I’m not your mother, I still worry about your safety.”

Both Y/N’s mum and dad had a very protective instinct over their eldest daughter, just like their other three children. Even at Y/N’s healthy age of seventeen, she longed for the freedom and trust that her older brother had gained at her age.

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carolyn replied with a little laugh.

“Mum! This is literally the fourth time I’ve been to a Yardbirds gig, and nothing bad has happened,” Y/N huffed. Her mum raised her eyebrows.

Lillian, Y/N’s little sister, walked into the foyer and surprised Y/N with a big, tight hug around her waist. Y/N gasped at the sudden contact, but chuckled when she realized it was her younger sister, and reciprocated the hug.

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Y/N. Boys are icky. And stupid!” Lillian said in a whiny voice, her face muffled by being buried in Y/N’s stomach.

Y/N ruffled her sister’s muss of dirty blonde waves affectionately, rubbing her back to soothe her worries. “I promise, I will come back perfectly fine! I won’t let any boys mess with me, Lil,” Y/N said with a smile, “And when I come back, I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

Lillian gazed up at Y/N with a similar smile, her small teeth shining a bright, pearly white and her chin resting on the taller girl’s stomach. “Okay,” she said, content, before releasing from Y/N with a stuffed animal tucked under her arm.

“Where’s Charlie?” Y/N asked, hoping she could say goodbye to her younger brother before she left.

“I think he’s riding around the neighborhood on his bike with his friends,” Y/N’s mum replied with a shrug. Y/N felt a little disappointed, but she figured she’d talk to him tomorrow at breakfast about her night out.

Thomas, Y/N’s older brother, continued to honk the horn rather obnoxiously, growing quite impatient. It’s a wonder the neighbors weren’t at arms, knocking on their door. He was forced by his parents to be Y/N and Carolyn’s chauffeur to the Marquee Club in London.

“We have to go, or else Tommy will have my head,” Y/N said as she started to open the front door.

“Wait!” her mum said, sloppily placing the towels down on a nearby counter to dash to the door and give Y/N a hug and a kiss on the head goodbye. Finally pulling away her weathered hands flew to Y/N’s shoulders, and gripping them firmly, she continued, “Be good. Love you.”

“I know, I will. Love you too,” Y/N smiled, before dashing down the steps and to the passenger seat of the car. Carolyn was in quick pursuit, following her to the car and taking a seat in the back.

“It’s about time,” Tommy huffed impatiently, tapping his fingertips on the top of the steering wheel as he put the transmission into drive.

“Sorry. Mum was giving me and C a safety brief,” Y/N replied apologetically.

“Why are you two still in school uniforms?” he snorted, shifting to look over at the girls; their studious appearance of white oxford shirts, sweater vests, plaid kilts, white knee socks, and smart oxford shoes would be quite out of place among the audience at the show.

“No time to change, just like usual,” she replied, turning on the radio, soft melodies pouring out at a low volume.

The three drove in silence, except for the sound of the radio playing, until Carolyn had dozed off on the somewhat lengthy car ride. Occasional small talk between Y/N and her brother permeated the quiet that fell over the group, but it picked up when they were only a few blocks away from the venue.

“You gotta stay safe in there, Y/N,” Tommy said, looking straight ahead. His teeth clamped down sharply on his bottom lip: a dead giveaway to the nerves he must have been feeling.

“I know, Dad,” Y/N joked, punching him lightly across the shoulder. Her bright smile wavered and fell when she saw his grim expression.

“I’m serious, you know. I don’t want my sister being pestered by some wankers in a blues band.”

Y/N smirked at her brother’s sudden defensive behavior. “I can take care of myself. Trust me. This isn’t my first rodeo. You should’ve seen the first Yardbirds gig we went to. Utter chaos...” The tilt of her lips signalled that she was joking, and Tommy huffed out a laugh.

Carolyn, stretching with a grunt, had miraculously woken up just as Tommy pulled up to the front door of the Marquee. Glancing at the venue with awe dancing in their eyes, Y/N and Carolyn disembarked from the car, walking closer with the façade of calmness and competency.

“I’ll be back later to pick you girls up. Have fun, but not too much fun,” Tommy rolled his window down as he said this, winking playfully.

Y/N waved to her brother as Carolyn thanked him graciously for the ride. Arms linked, Y/N and Carolyn entered the famous Marquee. Nervousness and anticipation began to pool Y/N’s stomach as she was greeted by the decadent atmosphere of the club: the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat hung in the air as her eyes were flashed by many people mingling about, dressed in typical mod clothing. Y/N and her friend looked at each other, feeling like aliens in their intelligent dress. They tactfully made their way through the crowd as they found their way to their usual spot, a small leather-upholstered booth set against the wall near the stage.

“Today might be the day, Y/N,” Carolyn said as they settled into their seats.

“I don’t know,” she replied, smoothing out her skirt, “the idea of that is both scary and exciting to me at the same time. We’ll just roll with the punches, I guess.”

“Which Yardbird do you have your eye on?”

Y/N smirked as she thought for a moment. “Hmm...I’m not sure. I guess they’re all pretty cute in their own way. What about you?”

“Yes, I agree. But I must admit, I do have a very soft spot for Chris Dreja.”

“I’ll pray for ya, C,” Y/N chuckled.

~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, backstage, five live Yardbirds were performing some pre-show rituals in the hopes of easing the preliminary anxiousness. Jeff, Keith, and Jim were peeking out the little sliver of curtain that allowed them to see their gathering audience.

“Look! It’s those two schoolgirls again!” Jeff pointed to the two teenage girls in school uniforms, chatting in their booth waiting for the show to begin. They were huddled together in conversation, legs daintily crossed as their faint giggles floated over to them. Jim couldn’t help but smile at the sound, though he recovered quickly, not wanting his bandmates to get any ideas.

“What’s wrong with that? They must like us,” Keith replied.

“I think they’re both really pretty, especially the one with the Y/H/C hair,” Jim pointed out, trying to be as subtle as possible.

“Yeah, maybe we should invite them backstage after the show… have a nice little chat,” Jeff winked at the singer and the drummer cheekily.

After taking a final glance at the two conversing girls, the three returned to the backstage area where Paul and Chris were. Jeff immediately enlisted Giorgio, their manager, to complete the agreed-upon mission. Jeff loosely draped an arm around Giorgio’s shoulder before bestowing the request as politely as possible. Not trying to be suspiciously polite, of course, because everyone in the band and its entourage were firsthand witnesses of Jeff’s temper and stubbornness. Yikes.

“Okay, I’m going to need you to do me a favor,” Jeff said to Giorgio with a mischievous smile.

Giorgio rolled his eyes, knowing this “favor” would have to do with scouting girls from the audience. “What d’ya need, Jeff?” he sighed exhaustedly.

“Don’t complain, please,” Jeff deadpanned. “There are two pretty birds in the audience, wearing their school uniforms. They’ve been coming to our shows for a little bit now, and they seem nice—”

“You want me to bring them backstage after the show?” Giorgio interrupted, somehow telepathically knowing, by routine, what the guitarist’s request would be.

“You finish that sentence like you know what I’m about to say.”

“That’s because I do, Mr. Beck,” Giorgio retorted sarcastically, “this happens a lot more often than you think it does.”

“Whatever,” Jeff grumbled moodily, knowing he was right, before walking back to the group of musicians in preparation.

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and Carolyn continued to gossip happily about what was happening at school, not a care in the world. They felt the stares of older men in the club, who silently disapproved of their knee socks being scrunched by their ankles, because that wasn’t the “proper” thing to do. But they didn’t care. Who are they to judge?

Every teacher scolded girls at school who did the same thing, because they didn’t want their long legs to be “tempting” or “distracting” any boys. A bloody nuisance, is what it is.

The girls were snapped from their thoughts by the sound of a heavy guitar tone being blasted through the speakers in an opening riff. Their eyes were stapled, almost transfixed to the stage as they took in the five sharply-dressed men in front of them, singing their songs and playing their instruments.

As much as Carolyn enjoyed The Yardbirds and music in general, Y/N had a rather deep connection to it, odd enough as it was. She could play the piano fairly well, so she understood where these musicians were coming from cognitively and creatively. From what she’d read in magazines about current popular musicians, like The Yardbirds for example, she liked the same music they did. Y/N understood dynamics, tempo, tone, key, and musical notation, just like they did. Perhaps she’d be able to get into an intelligent musical conversation with at least one of them one day.

Two straight hours of hits, obscure songs, and blues covers from The Yardbirds’ catalogue were played for the Marquee Club patrons, hypnotizing its drunk and high onlookers with polished musicality and instrumentation.

As the final song concluded, both Y/N and Carolyn, unbeknownst to the other, felt a sinking feeling of disappointment that fell like a pit in their stomachs. They wouldn’t have the chance to meet the band. No one from the entity had approached them yet, and momentarily the five live Yardbirds would be exiting the stage for the night.

After they said their goodbyes and thanks to the crowd, they disappeared behind the curtain. The main lights of the club brightened to signal that the show was over, as the voices of all the patrons raised in rave of the spectacular show they had just witnessed.

Discouraged, but still in light spirits at what they had just seen, Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seat and headed for the front door. Y/N expected her brother to be waiting in front; it was late, so might as well not make him wait longer than he needs to.

Y/N and Carolyn were merely a few feet from the door when Y/N felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around to see a man with a dark beard already baring a jovial tight-lipped grin at her, the girl was quite surprised, maybe a little weirded out, but she reciprocated the gesture as genuinely as she could.

“Hello sir, what can we do for you?” Y/N greeted, discreetly nudging Carolyn to help her out and become a united front with her in front of this stranger.

“Good evening ladies, I was sent by Mr. Jeff Beck to offer you an invitation backstage to hang out with the band.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped and her face broke out into an obvious mad blush, much to her dismay. She was internally screaming. The Jeff Beck had spotted them in the crowd?! This had to be a dream. Wait, this could be a complete drunken buffoon trying to trick them. Y/N remembered what her mother had said, and took the proper precautionary measure.

Y/N smiled in the most composed way she could. “Thank you for such a gracious invitation! Could I ask your name, if you don’t mind?”

“Giorgio Gomelsky, manager of The Yardbirds,” he replied, in a seemingly proud manner.

Okay, this was real. Y/N knew that Giorgio was definitely the manager’s name. She turned to Carolyn, who looked just as excited as she was.

“What are your names, dears?” Giorgio asked, pulling them out of their daze of what seemed like a fake reality.

“I’m Carolyn, and this is my friend Y/N,” Carolyn piped up, excited that she finally got an opportunity to speak to someone close to The Yardbirds.

She internally agreed to let Y/N handle the “diplomacy” part of the introduction, knowing that she was best at that. Carolyn knew her friend was quite shy, so she knew to step in when Y/N was starting to feel anxious. She noticed Y/N starting to fiddle with her fingers while talking to Giorgio in the most collected way she could muster; as excited as Y/N was, Carolyn knew she was growing very nervous.

“Well, it is certainly lovely to meet you both. So, what do you say? Would you like to meet the lads?”

After one final glance of excited mutual agreement, Carolyn replied, “Yes, we’d love to.”

Giorgio led the pair of girls back the way they came, through a sea of inebriated people, but this time through the backstage door. Y/N made an appoint to walk behind Carolyn, in an attempt to collect and relax herself. She was starting to sweat a little, her stomach doing flips and her hands becoming cold and clammy.

~~~~~~~~

“Our guests should be arriving any minute now,” Jeff said as he was placing his guitar back in its case.

Chris was standing and chatting with Paul in a corner when he turned around in surprise at the news. “Guests? What guests?”

“We had Giorgio invite two girls from the audience to come back here,” Jim replied, walking over to sit down in a metal folding chair.

“And why weren't we made aware of this?” Paul asked, as he walked to get another metal folding chair to place near Jim.

“It was their idea,” Keith replied, pointing two fingers between Jeff and Jim. Paul and Chris just nodded in recognition.

“I didn’t hear you disagree, Relf,” Jeff clapped back. He then told Chris and Keith to get some chairs for themselves and the two girls that would be walking through the door at any second.

Before Keith could respond, a couple knocks resounded in the room, signalling the arrival of the guests. Jacket lapels and ties were quickly straightened, even though each person was still glazed with quickly-drying sweat from the show they had just played, before the room fell unnaturally quiet as Giorgio opened the rather squeaky door.

The initial tension in the room that lasted a split second could be cut with a knife. Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, a cold sweat already running down her back, as five pairs of eyes landed on her, Carolyn, and Giorgio, warm smiles following suit.

She felt like internally combusting.

“Boys, this is Y/N,” Giorgio broke the momentary silence by introducing her, “and Carolyn.” Y/N smiled shyly and sent them a little wave, a dusty shade of pink seeping its way to her cheeks. Carolyn’s greeting was much more exuberant than Y/N’s, as she took the initiative to go over and shake all of their hands amiably. Y/N realized she had to follow her friend in order to make a good first impression.

Knowing that the boys wanted to spend time with the girls without being chaperoned, Giorgio left the room to attend to other business affairs.

Upon first glance, Y/N was the most beautiful girl that four of the five Yardbirds had ever seen. Perfect features, long legs, a calm, gentle, sweet demeanor… Just an absolutely angelic young woman; a vision.

Jeff had obviously recognized her beauty, from seeing her at multiple shows, but he thought she was way out of his league. He decided to focus on getting her to laugh and relax around them, because he noticed just how nervous she looked. She was turning pale right in front of his very eyes! Paul and Chris began to internally question themselves, how have I not seen this girl before? She is so gorgeous! Jim had been glancing at her sporadically throughout the show, soaking up her faraway presence. He noticed how her eyes glistened in childlike wonder as she watched them do what they did best: perform the Chicago blues.

“Well, it is very nice to meet you both,” Keith replied enthusiastically. “I’m Keith,” he alluded to himself, then pointing to the other members of the group while giving their names, “and this is Chris, Paul, Jeff, and Jim.”

“I mean, we know who you guys are, but it’s so lovely to finally meet you,” Carolyn replied. Y/N nodded in agreement.

“Come and sit down! Make yourselves comfortable. We don’t bite,” Jeff joked, motioning to the open chairs. The girls smiled and accepted his invitation, Y/N taking a seat between Jeff Beck and Jim McCarty, while Carolyn took a seat between Keith Relf and Chris Dreja. The chairs were arranged in a circular formation, so each person could talk to the other with ease.

“Tell us about yourselves!” Paul initiated, “I think Y/N should go first though, because you haven’t said too much yet,” he laughed at the last part. Y/N giggled (a little too idiotically for her own liking), but she felt herself become starstruck at how her name sounded coming from one of their voices.

Y/N clenched her cold, clammy hands in her lap as a method to ease her anxiety before starting with a smile. “Well, I’m from Saint Albans. This is our fourth time, I believe, coming to see a Yardbirds gig. Carolyn and I came to see you with Eric Clapton once, and then this is the third time with Jeff.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I guess I see where your favor lies in terms of guitarists,” Jeff responded playfully.

“I guess you’re right,” Y/N laughed, “I will admit that I love what you’ve done with the body of work. Clapton was a blues purist, which I respect, and he’s great, but I think your playing is much more interesting and unorthodox.”

Paul, Jim, and Jeff all raised their eyebrows at Y/N’s comment. They were impressed with how she understood their musicality.

“Are you a musician?” Jim asked Y/N.

“Not in your sense of the word,” Y/N chuckled, “But I’ve been playing the piano for most of my life, so I understand music. Probably more than your average female audience member,” she added with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Are you classically trained, or is it just a hobby?”

“Classically trained,” Y/N admitted to Jim shyly.

“Oh wow, so you’re the real deal,” Jeff added.

“I’m not a professional, so I’d say no,” Y/N laughed.

“You probably know more about music than all five of us combined!” Paul said.

“Well, I know that you know much more about the blues than me!” Y/N answered playfully.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” Paul smiled at Y/N. She cursed herself in her mind for feeling weak at Paul’s simple sentiment, but tried to keep her composure as best she could.

The four of them, especially Jeff and Y/N, began to bond over their love for different musicians. Y/N expressed her love for Chet Atkins and his fingerpicking style, Scotty Moore’s lively soloing style, and Robert Johnson’s slide technique and open tunings, rendering the three men shocked at her knowledge on the subject. Y/N loved how easily Jeff could make her laugh, and how interested Paul and Jim were at whatever she had to say, significant or insignificant. Chris Dreja, who was in a little group with Keith and Carolyn, occasionally spaced out of his conversation to hear what Y/N had to say.

They bonded for about an hour and a half about everything and nothing, until Y/N abruptly realized that Tommy was probably waiting for a while outside for her and her friend. She apologized to the band profusely for such a sudden departure as she and Carolyn walked towards the door.

“Say you’ll come visit us again after the show?” Jeff called to Y/N as she turned towards him in the doorframe.

“Absolutely,” she smiled brightly.

---------

Thanks so much, hope you enjoy!!

Taglist: @y0uth--anasia @reincarnated70sbaby

#jimmy page #led zeppelin #that’s the way #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x reader #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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entity9silvergen · 4 years

Text

Why Don’t you Play Me One of Your Songs? (Sanders Sides Fanfiction)

Summary: Logan professes his love for Patton through song.

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Logan, Patton

Relationships: Logan/ Patton

Other Tags: Valentines Day, Band, Music, Song fic, BoJack Horseman, College

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1500

Chapter Count: 1 (Oneshot)

Written 2021

Author’s Note: As of when I started this, I’d written over 25,000 words for Aromantic Writing Month. With Valentine's Day coming up, I figured I’d take a break from that and write something short with romantic love. This fic was inspired by Judah’s song in BoJack Horseman. When I heard it, I immediately knew I had to write a fic where Logan sang it.

========

It was… How to describe it?

It was entropy.

In thermodynamics, entropy was defined as a measure of the unavailable energy in a closed thermodynamic system that is also usually considered to be a measure of the system's disorder, that is a property of the system's state, and that varies directly with any reversible change in heat in the system and inversely with the temperature of the system.

When Logan was retailing the story for Virgil, his roommate used a much simpler definition. Entropy is the tendency for chaos, the belief that things in order will move toward disorder. Logan had to admit that definition was a bit better suited for his situation. Virgil had called him dramatic and Logan agreed but the word truly fit.

Logan was working at his local library. He was a broke college student and it was about the best job he could get. He liked it just fine. He could get lost in aisles of books, far from the demanding world, and spend hours just organizing. He rather enjoyed it. That was until the library hired another student to man the cafe, that is.

Logan hadn’t liked Patton when he started his job. He was noisy, always striking up conversation with people coming in, and people eating his baked goods never followed protocol. Crumbs. Everywhere. So many that Logan even had dreams about crumbs getting in his beloved books. But when Logan had gone to talk to Patton about it, he found that he couldn’t.

Patton was sweet. And beautiful. Logan couldn’t say a negative thing to his face. He’d actually panicked so hard that he ended up leaving. That night when he came home, Virgil had laughed at him and told him to try to talk to him. It might do him some good to have a friend at work.

Logan had protested but followed Virgil’s advice and talked to Patton. Patton took to him with the same friendliness that he did with everything else. They became friends. And as time went on, Logan realized he was falling in love.

Which brought him to tonight. Or rather, that morning.

“Hey, Lo,” Patton greeted when Logan came by that morning and Logan’s heart had fluttered a bit at the nickname. “What’s that?”

Logan mentally froze for a moment before holding up the case in his hand. “This? It’s, um, my guitar. I’m in a band. A small one. We’re playing later.”

“I know. I saw the flyer.”

It took every ounce of Logan’s willpower not to glance at the bulletin board by the door. Why had he put the flyer up here? Where Patton could see it? Oh right, because Remy had told him they needed people to show up to their concerts if they were going to call themselves a band. But here? Really, Logan?

“So, um, I was just wondering why you hadn’t invited me? I was talking to Roman and Emile and it sounded like you invited everyone else.”

Logan felt a flash of guilt at Patton’s tone. Stupid, Logan. He mentally slapped himself Had he really been so caught up in worrying about his crush that he’d accidentally alienated Patton?

“I know you’re working tonight,” Logan said, the words coming to him with remarkable speed. Words had never failed him but he kind of wished they didn’t come so quick, not right now. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to put you in the position where you felt obligated to come or felt bad saying no.”

Patton’s face softened and Logan felt a bit better. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I’d love to hear you play and I’d cancel my shift to-”

“No!” Logan cut him off before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat. More calmly, he amended, “I mean, no. You don’t have to do that. I’m a college student too, I know how important these paychecks are.”

Patton looked doubtful. “Well, if you’re sure…”

“I am,” Logan responded in an even tone that didn’t match the storm of feelings in his chest. “Don’t worry yourself over it, Patton. Maybe next time.”

“Next time,” Patton echoed but Logan was already stepping away from the counter and heading toward his beloved books, failing to see Patton’s disappointed gaze watching him walk away.

But Logan regretted it.

That night, standing up on that stage, he couldn’t help but feel crushing disappointment when he didn’t see Patton’s face in the crowd.

“Go to him, gurl,” Remy said, making Logan turn around, startled. The other man was leaned casually over his keyboard but his eyes were fixed on Logan. “We can survive without you.”

“But-”

“Hey, gurls!” Remy yelled at the crowd. “No vocals tonight! All vibes!”

The crowd cheered. Logan didn’t take offense. The confused glances of his other bandmates did offset him a bit and he offered them an awkward smile before thanking Remy. “Thank you.”

“No prob, gurl. Now get your ass out of here.”

Logan didn’t hesitate.

He’d carpooled here and he didn’t want to leave his bandmates hanging so he just ran. He ran like it was 7th grade PE and he needed to beat his record mile time to pass the class. He ran like Remus was chasing him with a booger on his finger. He ran like he was being chased by death itself.

He ran like he was in love.

But when he burst into the library, Patton wasn’t there.

Logan didn’t know he could feel such crushing disappointment.

He took a seat at one of the chairs at the cafe tables and crumbled. Under the weight of his despondency or out of exhaustion, he didn’t know. He just knew he felt hopeless. Right when he’d found the courage to tell Patton how he felt, he wasn’t even there.

But then he heard the door swing open and there Patton was. He looked stricken but relaxed when he saw Logan. He smiled and drifted over to one of the seats at the counter. “Hey, Lo.”

“Hello, Patton.”

“I closed early to go see you but you weren’t there. Someone told me you left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

They slipped into silence for a moment. Logan gazed into Patton’s eyes, seeing something unreadable in them. Patton didn’t look away.

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you play me one of your songs?”

Logan suddenly noticed he was holding his guitar case in a death grip. He swallowed and nodded, taking care to slip his guitar out of its case. It felt nice to have it in his hands. Grounding. And then the words came to him.

“I strive for precision.”

He sang slowly. His voice was almost hesitant. This wasn’t a song he’d written. It wasn’t a song anyone had written. Logan wasn’t a songwriter. He was awkward with words, always making sentences too long and lacking rhythm. But, he had an even voice so he sang. And sometimes the words just wrote themselves.

“My aim is to be accurate and clear.”

He was hopeful. It wasn’t something Logan could say often. He relied on concrete proof and evidence, not feelings. But hope was a nice feeling. He felt like he could do this.

“I don’t say things I don’t know to be true.”

There were few things Logan knew were genuine truths. This was one of them. He knew it deep in his heart. It resonated in his chest with the words as they formed. And that made him feel at peace.

“So believe me when I tell you I love you.”

His voice cracked halfway through. Logan didn’t look up to see Patton’s face but the words flowed to his mouth almost faster than he could keep up.

“I don’t write good love songs. I’m not adept with metaphors or rhymes. I just want to describe the things I know. And the only thing that I know is that I love you. Please believe me when I tell you…”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to look up from the strings of his guitar.

“I love you, Patton.”

And Patton smiled.

==============

Author’s Note: I tried a different writing style for this. There’s very little detail, more of a tell than a show story, and I did very little editing. Let me know if you like it. There’s a fine line between stylistic choices and bad writing.

#fanfiction #sanders sides #logicality #logan sanders #patton sanders #logic sanders #morality sanders #human au #college au #band au #songfic #bojack horseman #valentines day

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kiwi-bitchez · 5 years

Text

Permafrost

Chapter 2: Wrinkled Bedsheets

Read chapter 1 here! or on my AO3

Peter Parker x Reader

word count: 5,234 (sorry, couldn’t stop myself)

Warnings: SMUT, its just smut. that’s all.

Summary: You have just learned that Peter is Spiderman, and he’s excited to show you his bedroom in the tower. Smut ensues. Essentially porn with minimal plot.

You lean back against the wall, arms crossed over your chest, shaking your head. You could not fucking believe it. Your eyes follow Peter as he walks off the stage with the other Avengers, shaking the hands of your boss and the other mountain guide workers. You suddenly felt a strange combination of embarrassment and confidence. You had just given a mind-blowing orgasm to a fucking superhero, but you also hadn’t realized that for the first three hours of the night. Still spaced out, thinking of the night’s prior events you failed to realize Peter walking directly towards you. “Hellooo, earth to y/n,” he jokes, waiving a hand in front of your face, “busy thinking about me, huh?”

“Sorry, sorry, I… just feel kind of stupid,” you answer, finally looking up at him. “Hey, no, back there that was… that was great, so fucking great, don’t feel like..” he starts “Not that you dummy,” you punch his arm and shoot him a grin, “I certainly don’t feel stupid about that. Why didn’t you tell me you were…” “I just liked the feeling that you liked me as a person and not just because I’m famous or an Avenger or whatever,” he looks down, speaking softly. “Hey,” you lift his chin up, “you are fucking cool and your dick is kind of huge, and I was going to suck you off in that closet either way,” you joke, causing him to crack a smile. “Can I get you another drink? Maybe show you around a little bit?” He asks, hoping you wanted to stick around a little longer. You nod and a big smile flashes across his face. You had just thought about leaving and letting this be a fond memory, an interesting story to tell your friends, but the way he smiled at you and grabbed your hand made this feel more important than some hookup at a party. He drags you over to a large round table occupied by some intimidating figures. Before you could realize what was going on, Peter was introducing you to some people you had only ever seen fighting aliens on the news. “This is y/n!” Peter exclaims to the group, “She works for the mountain guide company that’s taking us to Antarctica.” “Very interesting, will you be joining us there?” Bruce Banner inquires, seeming to actually want to know. “No, probably not. Definitely a job for older, more experienced climbers,” you laugh, “I just feel lucky to have been invited to this party.” You feel like an ant amongst giants, a peasant next to gods, but you try to keep your cool and laugh along with the casual conversation of the table. They talk briefly of the upcoming mission, not saying much that you don’t already know. Occasionally one of them, usually Bruce or Steve would ask you a directed question to make you feel included in the conversation. The night is starting to slow down, most of the guests clearing out by this point. Peter nods his head away from the table, signaling you to follow him. “Can I show you around a little?” he asks, “and I believe I do still owe you something…” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you laugh. “Peter you really don’t owe me anything,” you say, leaning on him, “I wanted to do that earlier. I liked doing it.” You bat your eyelashes a little and lick your lower lip. Peter walks you around the winding hallways of Stark Tower, rambling nonstop about the building, all the rooms, the Avengers, what they do on a day to day basis. Some of what he said flew right by you, and other parts you actually found quite interesting. Most of all you liked seeing him talk about something he was so clearly passionate about. He was newly an Avenger after all, and you’re sure it takes a while for the excitement to wear off. The two of you had made your way up to one of the top floors of the tower before you realized you were at Peter’s door. “This is my room, my room here anyways,” he tells you, a nervous energy in his voice, “I didn’t mean to imply anything earlier. I want you to know that if you don’t want to do anything, you don’t have to, I was just thinking…” you cut off his stream of consciousness with your lips on his, gentile, but enough to tell him you were still interested. “Peter,” you look at him dead in the eyes, “I want to go in your room. I want you to kiss me, I want you to touch me, and I want you to…” your voice trailed off “Oh thank god,” he says, capturing your lips again, mumbling into you, “I really, really fucking want you.” He fumbles with the door, eventually leading you through it and into his small but cozy bedroom. It was generally clean other than the strewn papers all over his desk and open books haphazardly dotting the room. He moves quickly over to his bed, sitting on the edge nervously as you looked around his room. Walking over to him you place your legs between his, standing above him, positioning yourself exactly as he had stood over you earlier that evening. His strong hands grip behind your thighs and pull you into his lap, causing your tight dress to ride up considerably. Peter was still seated at the edge of the bed, but now with you straddling his hips, lips melting into his. “I still haven’t got to see you out of this dress yet,” he whispers into your open mouth as his hands move up from your hips up to your waist. You pull away from his kiss and lean back to take your hair out of its updo. It fell softly around your shoulders, a few stray pieces making their way in front of your face. He runs his hands through your messy locks, comfortably finding their place tangled in your roots. Although you wanted to jump his bones here and now, you knew that this wasn’t just a quick fuck. The bulge growing in his pants gave you something to grind against, causing him to squirm a little underneath you. You wanted him to rip your dress off in a fit of passion, and you could tell that he wanted that as well. However, this dress was perhaps the most expensive piece of clothing you owned, and the complicated mess of buttons and zippers that kept it perfectly snug to your figure were proving to be an obstacle. Getting up from his lap you kick off your shoes and start to make work on getting yourself out of your dress. “Sorry,” you begin to explain, “dresses like this always have a ridiculously difficult zip and snap mechanism. I didn’t expect you to know how to maneuver your way around that.” You laugh a little, easing up the harsh sexual tension that filled the air like thick smoke. He watched you with hooded eyes, his tongue sticking slightly out between his teeth as he watched you wiggle your way out. Before it could fully register to either of you, you were standing in front of him completely naked. Your underwear slipped off with your dress, and you had no bra to remove in the first place. You kicked your dress away from your ankles and looked over to him, eyes instantly meeting. You didn’t have to wait long for a sign to go over to him. He reaches out and takes your hand, slowly moving his touch up your arm. “You…,” he begins to say something but his words trail off as his hands wander from your arms to your waist, up to your shoulders, “are so freaking beautiful.” You giggle a little and tuck your head into your shoulder, hiding the bright red that was taking over your cheeks. “I knew I was gonna like you better without that dress on.” He pulls you into a kiss again, this one was a lot softer, he was taking his time with you. Although you were both starving for each other he wanted to wait, he wanted to make you feel good. Until this moment, you hadn’t realized how nice his hands were. They were much larger than yours, covering a vast amount of territory when he grabbed your waist. They were strong and steady and warm. You didn’t want him to stop touching you for anything. In a quick motion that caused a short gasp to escape you, he lifted you and swung you around so you were now positioned underneath him on the bed. Your limbs flopped down like they were wet rags, and your hair spilled all around your face. He positioned his still clothed body over yours, taking your face in his hands as he kissed you, tongue slipping easily into your mouth. His leg was positioned in between yours, giving your throbbing core something to make contact with. You wrap your arms around his neck, locking your heads together for the moment being. His hands that you were quickly growing to love made their way to your boobs, finding a comfortable handful that he playfully squeezed. You arch your back a little as he takes one of your nipples between his rough fingers, rolling it slightly causing it to stiffen up. You moan into his kiss as he continues to make work on your chest, finding you let out a little whimper every time he squeezes your nipple between his fingers. As you let out another noise, he presses his leg into you slightly, increasing the needed contact between him and your dripping center. “You like that?” he asks you with a slightly cocky tone, as he obviously already knows the answer. “Fuck,” is all that you can say or think in a breathy tone as he presses his hips further into yours, belt buckle coldly pressing into your soft skin. “Can I touch you?” his hand hovering between you, ready to make contact. “Please, Peter, please.” Before the phrase is out of your mouth your tongue meets his, his hand now making contact exactly where you need it. The sight of his long fingers running up and down through your folds, gathering your wetness between them, was almost enough to send you toppling over the edge. He is moving back now, his button-up no longer pressed against your arched chest. He positions himself back on his knees between your legs as his hands make slow and steady work of your pussy. Looking into your eyes for silent permission, he watches as your eyes flutter back mouth gaping open as he slips a finger into you. His thumb rubs soft circles on your clit as his long digit curls its way inside of you. “Peter, I...,” unable to complete your thought, you moan out his name as he slips a second finger into you. Your hips lift slightly to move against his hand, your motions almost completely out of your control at this point. “Y/n,” Peter looks at you, his voice much steadier than yours, “I want to taste you, so fucking bad.” You roll your head to the side and look down at him as he kisses a soft trail across your thigh. You moan out, not in pleasure but in need. He leaves open mouthed kisses all around you, but never where you want him. Moving his thumb away from your clit, but keeping his two middle fingers still slowly pumping inside of you he finally brings his mouth to your pussy, licking a wide stripe up the middle before latching his lips around yours. Although you wanted to watch his every movement, take in the sight of him completely devouring you, you couldn’t help but throw your head back in pleasure. A nonstop string of moans left your mouth, his name over and over with the occasional profanity, but mostly just your heavy breathing and whimpers. The sight of him between your legs, still in his formal attire from the party, his hair a mess from your hands constantly running through it and tugging at his roots made you swoon. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, his nose firmly pressed into the soft flesh above your center. “Oh my god Peter I’m going to…,” your body beginning to writhe against his tongue as you felt your orgasm grow closer, “fuck, fuck, Peter you are gonna make me come, please don’t stop.” The two fingers inside you start to curl against your upper wall a little harder now as he picks up the pace. His lips still latched around your clit, tongue flicking and sucking on you, driving you over the edge. One of your hands reaches down to his hair, needing something to grab on to, while the other stayed firmly pressed against your chest. Your back fully arches, giving you that extra force pressing you into his mouth. Your legs start to shake and he holds one down with the hand that’s not occupied pleasuring you. It felt as if he had been slowly and carefully pouring himself into you all night and now you were fully overflowing, and he was not letting up. You contract around his fingers and sit up slightly, your orgasm fully taking over your body movements. “Holy fuck Peter I’m…” not that you needed to tell him, as your whole body was moving with the waves of your pleasure, “Peter I’m coming, fuck.” He groans slightly into you, vibrations adding to your pulsing climax. Your firm grip around his hair lets loose a little as you relax your body. You flop back, body going fully limp as he pulls his two fingers out of you, but still leaving soft kisses on your clit. “Fuck Peter that was...” you muster up the energy to say, still completely out of breath, “so, so, so fucking good.” “Hey, I told you,” he says, wiping the glistening fluid away from his mouth and chin, “I owed you one from earlier.” He winks at you, sending more shocks of arousal to your core despite the sarcastic and cocky attitude. You had had a nice back and forth throughout the night, finding that his sarcasm and humor met yours. You weren’t expecting him to be so forward and confident in the bedroom though. He struck you more as the quiet nerdy type. His attitude toward making you feel good and taking his time with you came as a surprise, but certainly not a bad one. Although he had his moments of confidence, he did let the awkward nerd slip out occasionally. “But that was, like, good for you right? I did an okay job??” he asks with genuine concern. You sit up to meet your face with him, taking his face between your hands.

“Peter,” kissing him between words, finding his mouth to be slick and warm, but you liked it, “that…was the best…fucking head I have ever…received in my whole…goddamn life.” You look at him dead in his big brown eyes, a smile creeping up on his face. “And now,” you say lying back onto the bed, “I really, really want you to fuck me.” You reach up and stroke the rock hard bulge in his pants, grabbing at his shaft through his clothes. “You need to catch up with me Parker,” you quip as you start making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. He undoes his tie and sits up on his knees so you can have better access to his belt buckle. He slips out of his shirt and white undershirt, revealing a beautifully toned chest and abs. You were focusing on his belt and zipper, and had yet to realize the godlike body that was directly above you. Distracted by the tent in his pants, you didn’t look up until you found his hand cupping the side of your face. Your eyes widen at the sight of him, mouth opening slightly only to be captured by his in a kiss. This was not slow and gentle as it had been before. He was hungry for you. He wanted you. Not bothering to let you finish taking off his pants he moves you back flat onto the bed, one hand firmly on your jaw and the other moving back in between your legs. “Peter, fuck I…Peter I need you,” you whimper into his neck before latching your mouth to his hot skin. Your hands wrapped around his strong biceps, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. “You need me?” Peter asks, now moving between your neck to sensually kiss that magic spot between your jaw and your ear. “Tell me what you need, tell me exactly what you want,” he whispers in a deep tone that sends shivers down your spine. His hips were gyrating into you, the tip of his cock once again poking out of the waistband of his boxers. His pants had slipped down to his knees, and his underwear was not leaving anything to the imagination. “Peter,” you moan a little, but decide to play this game with him a little, if he wanted to tease you he would have to take it back as well, “Peter I want you in me. Ever since I saw your cock earlier, ever since I had it in my mouth, all I could think about was how you would feel inside of me.” You let every dirty thought you had all night escape your lips, rubbing your body against his and making him groan with anticipation. You bite your lip and look up at him, neither one of you able to keep it up for much longer. Reaching into his nightside table he pulls out a condom. You were slightly relieved that you didn’t have to be the one to ask, taking if from him and offering to put in on him yourself. He slips out of his underwear and pants, tossing them somewhere across the room. You had seen his dick earlier, but the sight of him completely naked was something else entirely. You tried to focus on the task at hand, the condom, but couldn’t help your wandering eyes from burning holes into his perfect body. You took control for a second, moving his shoulders to signal that you wanted him to lay on his back. Raising an eyebrow, he watched you with a sensual look in his eye as you moved on top of him, positioning yourself to sit down on his vertical cock. “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking night,” his hands moving to your hips, guiding you down onto his fully erect member. You let out a throaty moan as you sink onto him, his size stretching your walls a little. Your hands come down to his chest as you position yourself to start riding him. Your hips rising up a little bit only to sink back down. “You are so fucking perfect,” Peter says, almost lovingly, as he starts to move up into you, meeting your pace with his. His hands gripped firmly on your hips helped you bounce up and down on him, grinding your clit into his pubic bone. You lean forward and start to kiss his neck, up and down its length from his ear to his collarbone. His hand maneuvers its way between you and finds its place on your clit once again. The tight and hard circles he’s rubbing into you cause the knot in your stomach to turn and tighten. “Peter, fuck, please make me come again,” you plead into his neck, feeling his pace quicken. “I want you to come on me,” he replies, out of breath but not tired, “fuck y/n I want to feel you.” With that you lurch your body up, now sitting straight up on him as your second orgasm of the night hits you like a bag of rocks. Your legs tighten around his torso and your head whips back as his name comes out of your mouth over and over. He can feel you pulsating around him, your juices dripping between your two bodies. The way you are rocking your hips against him, riding out your orgasm is getting him there. “You look so fucking good like this y/n, you’re gonna make me come soon.” His hips snap up into you repeatedly, causing you to bounce in unison down on his cock. Your orgasm still making waves in you, you try to meet his pace and fuck yourself onto him. Lip tucked between his teeth, his eyes squinted shut as he plows a few more powerful thrusts into you before filling up the condom. “Y/n I just, fuck, I just came, I’m…” You lean down and kiss him deeply, your sticky body pressing fully against his. You grind against him a little, just to tease before lifting yourself off him completely. You flop back down onto him, face burying into the crook of his neck. “Fuck y/n that was…” “Yeah,” you respond before he can even finish his thought, “it really fucking was.” You lay there for a moment, just basking in the post orgasm feeling. You could have fallen asleep right then, your body perfectly tangled with his, but you knew you should probably go. Too afraid to ask if he wanted you to stay or not, you turn to him deciding to ask, “Where is there a bathroom I can use?” Removing his arm from underneath your head, he directs you over to a door by his closet to a small bathroom. Shuffling over to it, not bothering to take any of your clothes, you slip into the small room and sit back on the toilet. You close your eyes and replay the events from tonight back in your head. You weren’t really a hookup type of person, and the fact that you had just slept with a fucking superhero was still beyond you. You pee, wash your hands, and splash some cold water on your face before gathering the courage to go back out there and meet him. You exit the bathroom and see Peter sat up against his headboard, legs splayed out beneath him. What you weren’t expecting to see was his cock standing fully erect again. Pressing flat up against his stomach. You walk over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and looking at him with a mix of confusion and concern. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, gesturing to his raging hard on, “it’s not you, well it is you. But it’s a Spiderman thing. I have, like, a stupid short refractory period and dumb endurance, so it usually takes a while to get rid of this,” he explains moving his boner so it flopped down and back up to his chest. The way he talked just did something to you, sent all sorts of feelings to your body. He was so awkward yet confident and cool at the same time? He was funny and smart, he made you laugh and he made you come like no one else has…You snap out of your daze and seat yourself back on his lap, straddling him as you had been minutes before. You reach down in between you two and start to stroke his cock, pumping it in your hand. “I really mean it y/n” Peter says, closing his eyes in pleasure, “you really don’t have to do anything, you’ve already made me feel so good.” “But what if,” you start to say before shifting your body back, sliding down his legs so you were now eye level with his cock, “I really want to.” You lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft while making eye contact, waiting for his response. “Fuck,” he grunts out as you take his head in between your lips, “I’m not gonna stop you if you really want to.” You swing your leg around so that you were seated on one of his legs, back arched and his cock in your mouth for the second time that night. With every movement of your head bobbing up and down on him, your body moved against his leg, rubbing your still dripping pussy against his tough skin. “Fuck y/n,” he moans out, “that’s so fucking hot.” You concentrate on your breathing as you try to take as much of him as possible, his tip sliding against the back of your throat. You move your tongue against his underside as your lips continue to move up and down. You continue to grind against his leg, providing a less intense but lengthier orgasm for yourself. A steady stream of pleasure rippling through you as you continue to suck him off. “Mmmmm,” you moan onto his dick as your orgasm reaches its peak, the sound of your pleasure making him closer. His thighs tense underneath you and begin to twitch a little, signaling you that he’s close. You pick up the pace, continuing to grind yourself against his leg and ride out your orgasm, taking him as fast and as deep into your throat as your mouth will allow. “Holy shit y/n, you’re gonna make me come again,” his legs flexing and twitching around you. You keep him deep in your mouth as he comes, quickly swallowing him up. You continue to slowly pump him, licking up the come that was dripping down his shaft. You release his head with a pop and look back up at him with lustful eyes. “You’re wild,” he laughs a little, “where the fuck did I find you.” “Downstairs if I remember correctly.” You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before laying down next to him. You lean into him for a moment, resting your head against his shoulder. Part of you wanted him to stroke your hair and kiss your forehead, the other part of you wanted him to get up and help you collect your things to go. You lay there for a few minutes in silence, just enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours. You turn to him, unsure of what to say. Although it doesn’t end up mattering, as his eyes are closed and his breathing gets deeper and deeper. You slowly get up, causing him to slump over a little bit into his pillow. You smile as you tiptoe across the room, slipping your underwear and dress back on quietly. You grab your bag and shoes before turning to look back at him one last time, asleep with his mouth slightly ajar. You wanted to leave your number, but chickened out at the last moment, closing his door behind you. He probably only thought of you as a one night stand, and the sinking feeling of not leaving your number was nowhere near as bad as the feeling you’d experience if you did leave it and he never called. He’s a freaking Avenger for god sakes, he probably doesn’t have time for things like that. You should just feel lucky to have had the time with him that you did. You close your eyes and press your back against the hallway, putting on your shoes and straightening yourself out. Completely unsure of how to get out of the building, you get in the closest elevator and let it take you down a few floors. You arrive at what appears to be a large living room and kitchen set up. Not what you were looking for, but a glass of water sure wouldn’t hurt. You walk over to the sink, filling up a cup with tap water, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You felt like you were intruding, like you were breaking into someone’s house for a drink. You slug down the water and place the cup in the sink. “Can I help you?” a stern voice from behind you asks. “Shit, fuck, I’m sorry, I,” you start to explain as you turn around to see Tony Stark, “I, umm, I was here with Peter and I was just getting a glass of water before going home. I’m on my way out I swear. I’m sorry if I woke you Mr. Stark, sir” “It’s ok, the exit is on floor B,” he says, the edge was gone from his voice, “You were here with Peter? You were here for the party?” “Yeah, I, umm, I work for the mountain guide company,” you felt as if you were being interrogated by the FBI even though he was casually sat at a bar stool in his bathrobe. “Can I call you a cab? Or give you a ride home?” he asks, noticing your slightly disheveled appearance. “Oh no, that’s really ok, my hotel isn’t far from here I can totally walk. I wouldn’t want to be a bother. I’ll be on my way out and you can go back to bed, sorry.” “I don’t do much sleeping anyways, and you are in no position to turn down a ride home from me.” “You really don’t have to,” you start to say, trying to make your way back to the elevator. “I know I don’t, come on,” he joins you in the elevator and presses a button that brings you underground to a parking garage. You follow him nervously up to a car that probably cost more than your parent’s hose. The door swings up above your head and you step in, placing your bag at your feet. “So you were hanging out with Peter,” Stark asks suggestively as he starts up the car. “Yeah, I, umm, I met him at the party, he’s really, really nice.” You tell him the directions to your hotel, only a handful of blocks from the tower. Your boss had splurged and gotten a block of hotel rooms for the event. “Peter is a good kid,” he starts, “I saw him introducing you to everyone at the party, he seemed to really like you.” “Yeah, we only just met but it was nice of him to introduce me to all his, umm, coworkers,” talking casually about your hookup to a billionaire superhero was not coming very easily to you. “You said you work for the mountain guide company? Why aren’t you coming to Antarctica with us?” “Oh, I wasn’t asked to. Stephen and Eric are going, they are really experienced, you couldn’t have hired better climbers,” you felt like you were rambling, but he was being nice and seemed to actually be listening, “I’ve never even been to Antarctica, not that it’s a super common vacation destination but...” “Would you want to?” “Oh jeez well, yeah I’m sure someday. It would be cool to explore the terrain out there,” you were unsure of what he was getting at, so you just filled the dead air with noise. Pulling up to the front of your hotel you quickly thanked him a few too many times and gathered your things. Hopping out onto the curb Tony called to you before closing the door, “It was very nice to meet you y/n, I’m sure we will be seeing a lot of each other very soon.” And with that he sped off down the dead New York City street, leaving you standing in front of your hotel, heart racing and slightly confused.

#peter parker smut #spiderman smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #tom holland #peter parker

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lgcxking · 4 years

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On Monday, November 30, you are called by one of the staff members to a meeting with Kim Hyuncheol, head manager of the trainees; Park Jeongan, current CEO; Lee Iseul, head creative director; and Roe Kangdae, head manager of LGC Creatives. “Please take a seat.” The staff member spoke before giving a brief explanation of the interview process and how you will be asked two questions related to yourself and Future Dreams. Not a lot was revealed as to why the interview was conducted except for the fact that it was to help them understand their trainees on a more personal level.

The first question that was asked was, “You are someone very self-driven, to avoid using other terms like arrogant and self-centered. We made you the leader of your unit for a couple of months, what have you learned from the experience and how has it changed you?”.

After hearing your response, another person from the panel followed up with a question. Their question was, “Two more questions, King; as an idol, you won’t always have it easy. Not everyone will like you, and you won’t always receive everything you want. How are you going to cope with hate and lack of recognition? If being a celebrity doesn’t always give you the fulfillment you expect, will you react with entitlement as you’ve done in the past?”. Once you finish answering the question, the staff ends the interview by thanking you and telling you to have a nice day.

king envisions two possible scenarios once he sees the panel of important legacy figures in front of him: he's either getting kicked out, or they're announcing his debut. none of which makes particular sense right now. they wouldn't put him on a survival show only to kick him out or debut him before it has really started. so why is he here? they haven't really gotten any prior explanation. he was just brought here, suddenly sitting in front of not only kim hyuncheol, but the ceo of legacy himself. he's not one to appear often.

then they mention this meeting is going to take the form of an interview. king isn't stupid. they're not going to ask him about his dreams or how he's feeling right now. they wouldn't invite the ceo to participate for that. he needs to brace himself for whatever they could throw in his direction. by the tone of the first question, he knows they're not going to be nice about it either.

the terms 'arrogant' and 'self-centered' almost make him smile, but he knows better than to let himself do it. he would appear as if he's mocking them or not taking it seriously. if he's learned one thing from all the years spent at legacy, it's to learn when to keep his damn mouth of his shut. "it's true i can be arrogant. it's the uglier side of having confidence like i do. one thing i've learned, though, is how to dose it so it doesn't alienate everyone like it used to." he's going for honesty here. "i'm not the best leader, i know that. and i also know it was a test given to me. i think in terms of the unit's performance, i succeeded." it's not to brag. they did do really well on stage and it shows. "when it comes to... bringing everyone together bond... i don't know how to do it. i tried including minjun as much as i could when he was added." and he did try. his pep talk sounded more like vague threat, but he never made minjun feel like he wasn't an integral part of the team and treated him exactly as he treated the rest of the guys.

king thinks the questions can only get worse and as expected, they score a homerun with the next one. it could sound easier for someone else, but it's a nightmare for king. having to open up in front of them, having his inner demons exposed in broad daylight for everyone to dissect and observe. he hates that they noticed, he hates that they know. he doesn't want to think about it or face it. the possibility that he could ever fail. that he could ever lose. that he would become exactly what his parents always thought he would: a good-for-nothing, insignificant loser. king's body shrinks a little in its seat.

"i'm going to cope as i've always done," king suddenly responds. he lifts his chin up, takes a more dignified posture. he did lose his composure momentarily. but they won't break him. he's coped with hate and lack of recognition before and it came from the two people he wanted to be loved by the most. his parents have never once believed in him. he's almost certain they don't have any affection for him. perhaps they don't even love his brothers either. they're like trophies to be used as proof of the tsai family's genetic superiority. something evil and twisted like that. "if you're asking why i decided to become an idol then yes, it's because i crave recognition and admiration. i think you're well aware of that, as is everyone who's ever spent time with me. i want to be famous not just for the sake of being famous. i want to be seen, and i want to mean something in this world. so i won't sit here and tell you it's not important to be to be popular. but i'm also passionate about my craft now. i love being on stage and not just for the views and the likes. even fifty years from now i will still be a sore loser, and i'll probably still be arrogant. i'm just becoming more mature about it. i can be a sore loser but use it as motivation to try harder. i can crave popularity and use it as a reason not to mess up and lose the public's favor. it doesn't have to be all a bad. that's why i think i can make it now."

they don't express any strong reaction to what he's been saying and king doesn't expect any less. it's an interview, not a discussion. he's confident ( as usual ) that he spoke well. he would be a fool to lie and pretend he's a new and improved person now, as if they're unable to figure him out. he communicates better in korean now to be able to form coherent sentences and gather his thoughts properly without sounding like a local idiot. he hopes they at least realize he's gained some maturity and common sense over the years.

#lgc:pdinterview #( .solo )#king: me? arrogant and self-centered? absolutely.#submission

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inmyarmswrappedin · 4 years

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DRUCK reactions - s4 ep2

With special thanks to Michi ( @wodrueckts ) for looking over it to make sure I didn’t say anything glaringly wrong. 💛

CLIP 1: It’s hard out there for a hijabi

Here’s one thing I like about this episode: the shot of the tiara spinning in the air. That said, it’s kind of inexplicable. It’s been like a month since the Abiball, so what’s the tiara doing here? Was Amira holding onto it all this time? Did she have this vision of, like, sorting out her shit as she prepares to move out of her parents’ home, and remembering how her gay friend gave the tiara to her because he hated that his boyfriend was so hot he just naturally won all popularity contests? And she was like, “Imma do a solid for future Amira and get rid of this dollar store tiara right now”?

Anyway.

So far, Amira M.’s season has been the only Sana season not to drop during Ramadan. Seems like the Druck team thought they might not even get to Amira, and then they got renewed at the eleventh hour. So they needed to put that shit out quick because the character was set to leave for Australia and anyway it would’ve been really weird to do an Amira season in uni, and then go back to high school with the next gen. So this season is set in summer, and depending on what Wtfock does with Yasmina, it might be the only Sana season to do so.

I think setting this clip lakeside was pretty clever. Plenty of chances to show people in swimming suits or skimpy clothing, as well as people’s reactions to Amira’s burkini. It very quickly sets the stage for the season, same as the bus montage did for Sana in Skam.

I’m not sure how to feel about Sam thinking cunnilingus is boring. Is she sure she’s having it done right? I thought Abdi had a longer than average tongue.

And thanks to Michi, I discovered that this was a reference to Skam, which I didn’t even know because I still had the gdrive subs for s2, where Chris says getting eaten out in Gran Canaria was fun, as opposed to the new subs, where she says it was boring as shit and she fell asleep.

I can’t remember whether Sana’s prayer app ever went off in front of the girl squad. When Skam España did it, the girls immediately freaked the fuck out at the thought of Amira praying right in the middle of a street party. In this case, Kiki looks at Amira for a second. Amira turns the app off though, so we never find out what the girls would’ve done if Amira were to pray right there. Or if it’s happened before. (I’ve been told by Michi this has happened before but the girls didn’t have a reaction then either.)

“Girls, why does it always have to be about boys with you guys?” GO OFF, AMIRA. I remember when I watched the season live, I became exhausted at all the boy talk, so it’ll be interesting to see if I still get this feeling watching the episodes.

In comparison to Vilde, Kiki is also a good sport about Amira wanting this topic to be over. I mean, she laughs a little (perhaps knowingly?), but Kiki is always up for changing the topic to something else about her… Like her and Carlos’ house hunting!

And also, Druck has sent Mia off to Spain to reassure viewers that this Noora won’t take over the season like other Nooras. (Ahem.)

For lack of something to talk about, Amira brings up boxing. Kiki is immediately interested, since she loves working out. Amira is really not into the idea of her brothers getting to know her friends, so she uses Hanna’s reticence to shoot Kiki down.

Her mood has been spoiled all in all, so she stays back to feel alienated as the girls splash around.

She does look cute as hell in her burkini and sunglasses though.

CLIP 2: Am I a bet? Am I a fucking bet?

I really like the blink and you’ll miss it shot of (I think is) the customized snow globe with the Nadia and Amira pic.

Some other stuff in Amira’s room: A polisci book, a list of lodgings in Sydney open on her browser, and what I’m pretty sure is a save the date card from Nadia and her fiancé. This is a very smart way to set up Amira’s character for people who might not have been paying a lot of attention to her so far. It’s always fun to get a peek at a Skams character’s bedroom for the first time.

Amira’s season came after Imane’s, and one thing I immediately liked more about Druck was that they spent time with the prayer scenes. I remember ONE (1) scene where Imane prayed in Skam France, and we only got to see the tail end of it.

I’m pretty sure the game the Mahmoodis play doesn’t actually exist, which probably has to do with having to pay royalties to show a real game. Interestingly(?), when I searched Dr. Whoo and Chopstick on google, it led me to Doctor Who pages, so I wonder if it’s all an elaborate Doctor Who reference on the part of someone in the Druck team.

In Skam, Sana misses the shot because the balloon squad are talking throughout the whole song, but Amira loses because Mohammed literally leans into her line of sight to make eye contact. In general, Mohammed is a lot more suave and savvier than Yousef ever was.

CLIP 3: This apartment is gonna kill somebody

And on a similar note but related to Amira, she is set up as someone the other girls rely on for advice. Kiki needs her help with the renter, while Sam asks her for romantic advice. I think the reason for this might be that while the girls didn’t exactly rely on Sana for advice in Skam, Sana was the one with the ideas since the start. Amira doesn’t necessarily take charge of situations the way Sana did, but there’s this notion that without Amira, the squad would fall apart.

The Berlin housing market = shantycore goals.

I also like the bit of subtle social commentary in Amira’s speech, about middle aged people helping young adults get started with life, so the latter can support the former when it comes to pensions, etc.

CLIP 4: Huh.

So even though Amira didn’t want the girls at the gym earlier, they are here now.

The day before, Amira posted a story on ig reminding the girls about the boxing class, with no indication that she ever tried to get them not to come.

Hanna gives a quick bit of exposition when she mentions Stefan is already working full time (and in a job that presumably requires a uni degree) while she just graduated high school. Which she finds weird.

As in Skam, Essam calls Amira ‘slave,’ which Kiki and Hanna notice. Amira quickly says it has to do with a bet, and the subject gets dropped.

When the season was airing, I thought for sure this wasn’t the end of it, and it would be brought up again, either through Kiki, Hanna, or possibly Stefan via Hanna. But no, this is really the end of that storyline.

My question is, why? What is the point of recreating this storyline from Skam (even going through the trouble of setting up a week during the hiatus between episodes 31 and 32, where Amira wins and Essam has to be the slave) if you’re just going to drop it in the same episode? It’s bad writing because we’re still in the stage of the season where storylines are being set up for later. It’s bad writing because Kiki and/or Hanna literally never bring up this bet/slave business again after devoting several clips and a bunch of social media to it. It’s like the writers didn’t really want to adapt this storyline from Skam, but they also didn’t have a ton of ideas for this week. Or maybe they were going to go somewhere with it, but then they changed their minds because it made some character look bad, but they forgot to take it out.

Like okay, fine, it wasn’t my favorite storyline in Skam either. It made Vilde look like an idiot at best, or a racist and a traitor at worst. But then why even have Kiki and Hanna overhear Essam? It’s not like they had to do it for adaptation reasons. Skam France didn’t.

It’s frustrating as fuck, and it won’t be the last time this season will pull this on the viewer.

Speaking of which, Sam thinks Mohammed is hot as hell (she ain’t wrong) and invites Essam, Omar and Mohammed to Jonas’ birthday party. This bothers Amira, because she doesn’t want her brothers to hang out with her friends. Even though she apparently just invited the girls to the boxing class that takes place at the gym her brothers attend.

[SIGH]

But anyway, Sam is being characterized as someone who is in charge of her sexuality (throughout the whole show, but specifically in this episode). While Amira is pining from a distance, getting flustered just from eye contact, Sam sees a hot guy and immediately creates an opportunity to see him again.

CLIP 5: Barbecue pining

There’s such a summer vibe about always finding reasons to hang out at a specific place because your friend got a summer job there.

I gotta give it to the writers. Essam is such a well-constructed younger sibling character. He’s a brat exactly in the way younger siblings are, and yet… That’s also the reason he’s so endearing.

And, on that note, Omar gives off such dad vibes. Not even older brother vibes. Every time I see Omar I feel like he’s thinking, “ha-ha! These little brats are acting out because they’re going through a lot! We just have to understand them!”

The conversation Amira and Mohammed have around the barbecue is so dumb, but you gotta love how pleased Amira is that she has Mohammed’s attention. Though she’s also unused to liking having a guy’s attention.

David and Matteo are back, and they’re still adorable! Good for them.

The way you could describe this moment as, Amira literally turned around for a moment and Sam was already touching Mohammed’s hair, and have it be accurate, sums up what they’re going for here.

Social media

There was a lot of social media content to keep people fed in the hiatus between episode 31 and 32. David and Matteo backpacked through Europe, Mia left for Spain and Kiki made a video about it, Stefan was invited to a game night with the crew, Kiki and Carlos looked for an apartment, and as I mentioned earlier, Essam lost a bet to Amira and had to be her slave for a week. I think that’s about it!

Abdi suggests that he and Carlos give Jonas supplies to make a protest sign as a birthday present and I almost lost it.

I think the piece of social media that most pissed off Skam purists was a chat where Jonas assures Amira he’s already thought of buying halal meat (as well as vegetarian and vegan options) for his birthday, because apparently Druck wanted to show up Skam or something, but like… It’s not like this storyline went anywhere on Skam either, like at no point do the girls learn to order pizza Sana can eat. So what does it matter if Jonas is already aware that Muslims eat halal meat.

I love that Hanna went to boxing class once, posted a bunch of stories about it and then never attended again. What a mood.

And to close the week, Kiki texts Amira that Essam started following her on insta.

FINAL THOUGHTS

When the season was airing, I found these clips cute enough. But on rewatch, I didn’t care for this episode and the reason is that so much of it ended being irrelevant to the season. What this episode did well was setting up the Kiki/Amira friendship, setting Kiki and Carlos’ apartment and the boxing class as recurring settings for the season and some character details. Essam is a really solid character from the get go, and I like the details in Amira’s room. They could’ve left out just about everything else.

#druck #about druck

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goddessofspunk · 5 years

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Tim meets MDC

Okay let's go! This will feature fanboy Tim so get ready for some really weird ideas!

• Okay Tim is so murdering his siblings. They left him all alone at a Wayne Gala!

• Also Bruce has to leave for a league mission, but guess who's still here?

• He's super mad until he spots FREAKING JAGGED STONE!

• Oh god he's so glad he's here now! Take that siblings! You bail on me and I meet the coolest person ever!

• Then he spots his guest!

• It can't be, but it has to be her!

• MDC!

• She's been Jagged's designer for years! And she looks to only be around Damian's age!

• He goes over to her

• "Hi I'm Tim and you are like the coolest person ever!"

• Marinette is very confused when he turns to her instead of Jagged for an autograph

• They talk for a bit about music until they discover their where's love of riddles, puzzles, and logic games

• They exchange numbers

• A week later he gets a call saying she has a backstage pass to the Gotham city Jagged concert

• He accepts and tells his siblings he doesn't need the ticket they got for him

• They are very confused

• Bruce is like I thought you loved Jagged why aren't you going

• Dick is very concerned, like are you sick Tim?

• Jason suspects that the replacement has been replaced by either a shapeshifter, alien probe, or clone

• Damian's just like mildly freaked even if he doesn't show it

• Alfred suspects it has to do with whoever Master Tim has been texting

• It turns out okay though because Cass comes back for a visit and she's never been to a concert so she gets the extra ticket

• Turns our most of the hero’s are here

• The Titian’s are all throughout the floor and is that Babs and Steph?

• The concert starts and it’s awesome and then Jagged invites the backstage quests to the stage

• It’s his designer MDC and is that TIM!!!

• The Titian’s are just wondering how he snagged that backstage pass

• The Bat fam?

• They’re just flipping out

• they want to know how Tim meet MDC and how he managed to make a good enough impression on her to get a free backstage ticket!

So there will probably be a part 2, but if you want to use this idea for a fic feel free to make your own!

And if you do use this idea please send me the name of the fic I really want to see this idea turned into one!

-Aëlla

#marinette dupain cheng #maribat #tim drake #red robin #batman #batfam #uncle jagged #jagged stone #dc #gotham #miraculous ladybug #batman and robin

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milan-chica · 4 years

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Free Spirit Brave Soul Medical Assistant Leopard Heart T Shirt From AllezyGo

They served as Atty Gen the same time it took the same big they took on the same big fights to get California bow here in Delaware big fights helped change the entire country I know how much bow respected and her work that matter a Free Spirit Brave Soul Medical Assistant Leopard Heart T Shirt From AllezyGo lot to me to be honest with you as I made this decision so now we need to get to work playing this nation out of these crises we find ourselves. America cabinsand resolve to go offand find buckyand bring them back to normal meanwhile buck is off killing hydra scientistsand trying to become more human as you imagine with the shield team yeah finding out everyone’s hydra is a pretty big mess john garrettand grant were exposedand start shooting people in the faceand a big battle between hydra shield ensues in the cast that follows the us government declare shield a terrorist organization that’s fun for colson the gang john garrett breaks initials facilitiesand steals a bunch weapons from colson’s past ventures pheasant simmons end up in a medical pod which grant ward then chucks to the bottom of the ocean fits almost sacrifices himself to save simmons because they’re in love but in a fury shows up just in time to save them during colsonand team upand eventually defeat garrett to make schools in the new head of shieldand jesse were up to date his team now includes this dude called macand the studio tripletand this dude called patton oswalt after the spirit wasn’t hiding with the excellent disguise of a beanie however colson is now starting to experience side effects from being resurrected using cree fluids the main side effect is he start sketching a map of that ancient cree city for humans to find is that sin is brain now meanwhile the soon to be human is been running around the show for a while now called reyna goes to daisy’s dad calvin who is still looking for after all these yearsand tells him she’s found his daughter he really was sincere so he sets out to do that this has been the because he almost drownedand now he’s got brain damage simmons is nelson’s work undercover in hydra with the help of fellow shield agent bobby morse shield team lost recruit sassy british man lance hunterand some other people but they’re not as important agents also start fighting this inhuman called carl creel the absorbing that back over to calgary now he discovers it is usb stick with information on it that he would like to have however it’s currently in possession of guest to reva connors luke cage’s wife so he is jessica to find usb formand then orders her to kill reva jessica does it but it’s so dramatic that she manages to break free from kill race controland walks away he is then promptly hit by a bus just giving he’s dead but he survives in later forces a guy given both of his kidneys so he can live after all this jessica jones decides to become a private investigator while luke cage is pretty devastatedand also now running his bar okay now were going to go to space for quite a bit that is a still looking for those infinity stones after loki stuck to getting the tesseract so he lists run the accuser’s old cree crazy fanatic friend to help them in case you forgot the cree are still war with the no vampire the good police of spaceand it was a peace treaty involved that decree signed but ronan went rogueand started terrorizing secondary people send r is the capital of the vampire enemies a lot of weird names once i’m sorry anyway ronan with the help of dennis’s adopted daughters nebulaand gomorrah is now looking for the orb that contains the power infinity stone on places like praxis nine process nine at data know but so far no luck also grew rocket or start collecting bounties for example on this guy called balto so this point most everyone is looking for this infinity stone orb dennis wants it to come to the universe once it’s usand give it to the collectorand this random urgent wants it because it can probably be sold for a lot of money this merchant hires yonder in the rafters to get a form peter quill now going the name star lord is all grown upand despite what they taught him once to move away from the ravages so he locates the orband takes it for himself just before running into ronan’s henchmen started quill escapesand gomorrah center treated on the planet of zande are guerrillas attacked by gomorrah for the orband by writing group for huge bounty on his head in the end all capturedand sent to prison called the kiln where they meet tracks the destroyer tracks his family was killed by running under the command of panos so once revenge on both those guys which intends on getting through gomorrah in the end these unlikely five team up to get out of the kilnand plan to get the order to the collector so they can all get paid now you got the rogers were medic will the notochord who would uphold the lawand ronan once the orb on the tail is to know where a celestial head where the collector is peter so I love it gomorrah jackson arcata getting drunkand fighting but eventually through all these distractions they doand of giving the orb to the collector however one of the collector’s assistance to the stoneand a big explosion happens because it’s an infinity stone was as good markwell to take the stone back in a fit of junk vengeance just goes run into the planet a fight in a fight which she loses badlyand tries to kill more in spaceand gets the orb that peter saves her at the last minute right as a captured by the raptors ronan as the stoneand decides to betray santos giving it for himselfand paying to distressand areand then santos the crew now going by the name of the guardians of the galaxy eventually regroupand team up with the ravages to guard the galaxy they team up with another court as well a big clinic to bounces during which grid sacrifices himself to save his new friends eventually after some paddlingand dance off peterand russ the guardians grab the stoneand kill run with it saving the day in the process peter is able to hold the power of the stone for sunday does because he’s part celestial areas of the stones than of the court keep safe I wonder that’s agoand they often become kind of guns for hire also rocket pics of the twig from grits corpseand plants that create a new gruden baby form who grows with the team meanwhile the collector gets mocked by herod the duck ego the living planet celestial is my someone who held infinity stoneand realizes it must be some of his day yonder never delivered is a plan to get peter to’s planet they can join forces so we can consume everything everywhere nebula has escapedand is now hated by pretty much everyone in the universe but she really wants to kill her dad that us she tries to steal some superpowerful batteries from these aliens called the sovereign but is caughtand taken prisoner however there’s a giant monster called the obelisk that slowly drain those batteries power to the sovereign the guardians to defeated they greeted so if they get nebula as payment after they succeed however rogge still similar batteries because he’s kind of a dick that’s not a joke that’s pretty much what he did it still battery the summer discover this since in the fleet to kelly guardians but ego shows upand destroys that fleet reveals himself as peter’s dadand him peter gomorrah jackson egos helper mantis who can read people’s emotionsand make people feel emotions go back to ego’s home planet his body meanwhile rocket baby groupand nebula stage repair the ship meanwhile the ravagesand the undo off on some hooker planet celebrating the victory against ronan when yonder runs into sylvester stallone after all these years stone is a bit of foreshadowing that how yonder won’t have a nice rabbit your funeraland yonder is not too happy about it but soon after the sovereign approachand then ask them in the ravages to catch the guardians for them that’s the planet where the guardians crash landedand after b skirmish take rocketand baby group prisoner one of the ravages taser face please yonder was getting too softand stages of mutiny nebula helps the ravages take out jan doand then goes off to kill her sister onceand for all is really she just was to kill her whole family at this pointand his mentor killed the mutiny but eventually yonder rocket bondand escape with the very very slow help of baby groupand yonder’s number two crack when you gets a new arrow controlling mohawkand the murder all the ravages mastered’s in the coolest way possible meanwhile on egos planet egos teaching peter how to use his celestial powersand peter is loving it something seems off thoughand that is his beginning friends with tracksand wants to tell them about egos deep secret as in all the child murdering young to know as well that child murdering so him craband daily gruden rocket getting the shipand jump across the universe to save peterand the gang from ego nebula get steel spina first invites gomorrah but eventually they stop fightingand talk out their differences peter is getting really into ego so celestial thing welcome nebula discovered cave of the children under the surface peters advertised may goand almost as long would egos plan until ego reveals that he killed peter’s mom at which point peter steps out of itand the battle begins the process of all the cd the plantand transforming has already begunand the stuff starts expanding all over the universe including honor the guardians by egoand the sovereign as they just arrived peterand ego to get out in the weirdest way possibleand ultimately yet the guardians when an ego is no more in the process peter loses his celestial powers is not totally op when infinity work comes however to say peter yonder redeems himselfand sacrifices his own life freezing to death in outer space youngest funeral followsand all the raptures including stallone come back to honor him since they realized he wasn’t such a bad guy after all nebula gomorrah become somewhat loving sisters nebula leaves to find a way to kill santos which I guess takes another four years to get around to doing kremlin takes over yonder zeroand still reunites an old ravaged team then yonder’s honor the sovereign still pretty upset with the guardians create adam warlock to be the ultimate weapon against them though that’s also to take a few years to fully manifest also this old man has been an informant for these beings that watch the universe called the watchersand that’s all you need to know about them nowand go back to earth there’s this guy called jonathan sanborn who gets in an accident at the factory work sadand is paralyzed he seeks medical helpand physical therapy but those do nothing for so he hears about ties for the masters of the mystic art still hang outand has over there here he meets the one entries in the way of the mystic artsand eventually leaves as he can use the magic to walk again this year team is having more adventures mainly revolving around trying to figure out those weird drawings colson is doing this includes may find an agent with a mask that makes you look like me it’s probably burned onto a face that guy verna reinhardt also comes backand get his hands on the diviner again over hell’s kitchen not murdoch confesses at his church about his vigilanteand because he’s very catholic but decides to give it up anyway to make a city a safer place in the same area reporter called karen page discovers some shady activity involving money laundering going on with this companyand tries to tell one of its employees but wakes up the next morning next to his dead body holding a blade knife she’s accused of murder against nelsonand murdoch to defend her she’s doing some investigatingand so some people want to killed matt in his vigilante outfit safes are become known as the daredevil that karen such working as a secretary for nelson murdoch ever since that you turn invasion a bunch of house prices have dropped new york or something real estate related like that so they’re more russian gangstersand mobstersand all that taking advantage of the situation wasn’t fisk that the range kid from before returns him to make the city a better place but a better place for him isn’t better for a lot of people also he falls in love the woman called vanessaand start being people’s headsand with car doors those two things are mostly unrelated so that as daredevil fights back against him involving lots of dark hallwaysand alleysand beating up russians in bidding of ninjas called nobu in the process thought he discovers who he isand has a big scene of acting on the way that also provides a nurse called claire temple finds a new year’s at houston to his wounds wasn’t fisk also starts working with mme. Ways you really know why when I very dearly out there on how the world can the larry down cleanup every note and an been cresting to the returning energy are you willing to give out to joe biden here is my answer going on recollections can break your heart they can make to gain from the here was interesting to hear what the president experienced intelligent and actually believe in the rule of law was starting to see the soul of this nation and my favorite things to fix sacrificing your ideals or your commitment to family who better to introduce your children biden sleep joe biden is our dad now about it when I tell you what kind president our dad will be will be and honest caring principle to listen will be there when you need him tell you get to when you get when you will never let you down the rock candy strongly shouldering you can ever lean on every time you succeed will make your grandkids fielded what they’ve got to see others treat cream on the line get up no matter how many times he’s been knocked down

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iamkatehardy · 6 years

Text

Dessert (Eddie Brock x Reader)

Requested by: @bxbblesstuff

“Heyyyy.... yeah it's me again, sorry if I'm bothering, but could I get an imagine with Eddie Brock where the reader is British and well, if you're a Brit in America you could have some struggles like not being understood. So let's say that they are like in a date and the waitress does not understand the reader. Sorry if it's too much. Love your blog, bye”

Author’s Note: I’m sorry if I butchered the British slangs, but I don’t use them frequently, don’t kill me if you’re a British reading this , please 😂 for those of you who aren’t familiar with some of the slangs, I put the meaning 😋

Also, first time writing for Eddie, and as I’ve said before, I don’t usually do it, because there are so many great fics with him around,that I don’t know if I can make something worthy 😛

Warnings: Things get a little spicy in the end... Swearing, Descrimination.

Let me know what you think, loves ❤️

Dessert

Eddie worked with you for some weeks now. You and him hit it off right away; you loved how pure and genuine he was. He found you quite interesting too, from the thick British accent, to how lovely you looked when you were huffy, not to mention you were a sight for sore eyes.

You were in charge, the editorial manager, but you were very laid back, treating every person in there equally. For the first time, Eddie knew when his boss called him to her office it didn’t always mean trouble, sometimes it even meant being praised.

He often talked to himself, at first you wondered if he was crazy, but over time you discovered that that was just Eddie being Eddie; he wasn’t all there sometimes, but he was the sweetest, and hard worker.

Eddie was alluring, and you had been plucking up courage to ask him out, you just had to become become better acquainted with him first, to make sure he would accept just because you were his boss. He had been thinking about the same, but he wanted to make sure Venom understood he shouldn’t step in, because Eddie wouldn’t know how to explain the whole situation to you.

After staging the whole situation in your mind for couple hundred times, you decided to do it.

“Eddie, could you come to my office, please?” - You asked him.

This time he thought he was in deep trouble, he had been absent from work for almost a week.

“Sure...” - He was noticeably nervous.

“ I won’t be biting you, I swear.” - He made you laugh , and you walked to your office. Effie trailed behind you.

You sat down, relaxing in your chair, but when Eddie sat down he was all but relaxed.

“Bloody hell, am I that scary?” - You removed your glasses. Eddie shook his head.- “ I was just wondering if maybe we could grab dinner after work, one day.” - You said, with an expectant look.

Venom, who sometimes had an awful timing, decided to intervene.

“Eddie, do we eat bosses?” - Eddie heard inside his head.

“What? No!” - Eddie said in annoyance.

“Oh, sorry... Hmm, ok...” - Your smile faded, as you thought his answer was meant to answer your question.

“Fuck... No (Y/N), I didn’t mean...” - He scratched his head , taking a deep breath. - “Look, I’ll be right back, my answer isn’t no, yeah?” - He got up, rushing to the bathroom and locking himself inside.

“We do NOT eat bosses! At least not (Y/N), she’s everything but evil...”

“Hmmm...” - Venom grunted in his head.- “Not even the eyes? I like her eyes.”

“I like her eyes too, and that’s exactly why we won’t eat them! We won’t hurt her at all , ok?”

“ What if I get hungry? Really hungry...”

“NO! And I’d really appreciate if I could have dinner with her, with no trouble. I could get you a ton of chocolate of your choice...” - Eddie sighed.- “I like her, I really do, I can’t show you to her just yet, that would frighten her.”

“That would cost you at least 15 boxes of chocolate”

“I’ll give you 30 then!”

Eddie walked back to hour office, where you remained, crestfallen.

“Only if it’s today!” - He smiled.

“I beg your pardon?” - You looked up at him.

“Let’s have dinner tonight (Y/N), I’m really looking forward to it!”

“But I thought...”

“I’m sorry for what just happened, I was just nervous, never meant to decline your invitation, I couldn’t. Pick you up at 8?”

You giggled, because he was probably telling the truth, Eddie being Eddie again, one of the reasons that made him so cute.

“8 is perfect for me!”

After work you went home and immediately dolled up for the occasion, you wanted Eddie’s jaw to drop, and it did, in the second he laid his eyes on you when he came to pick you up. He knew the very professional you, not the casual version, but he was dying to.

Eddie was glad Venom was behaving , but he was so nervous that even without Venom bugging him, he was afraid to screw things up at any minute.

“Eddie, the chair. Remember the movie in which you cried , the other night, pull the chair for the girl.”

He pulled our chair and made a note in his mind to give Venom extra chocolates for that one.

“Thank you.” - You smiled warmly at him, impressed

A waitress came and delivered you both the menu.

“Oh, thank God! Besides cream crackered (tired) , I’m completely Hank Marvin (starving)! I’m salivating just by having a butchers (having a look) at the menu!”

Eddie smiled, he knew you always used British expressions and a thicker accent when you were truly excited, and that was definitely a good sign for him. The waitress shot you a side-look, as if you were from another planet.

“I’m absobloodylutely gobsmacked! These all sound and look great. But I’m feeling homesick today, so maybe I’ll ask you to get me some laverbread for a starter, then I’ll have a Scotch egg and chips, could that be?” - You smiled nicely at the waitress.

“I’ll trust your good taste and have the same!”

“I’m sorry ma’am, perhaps you could speak slower, and in a more understandable English?” - The waitress said almost laughing on your face, of how odd your accent sounded to her.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, this one isn’t a good one, can we eat?!”- Venom asked excited.

Eddie was shocked with how inconvenient the waitress had been, and he almost felt like letting Venom bite her head off.

“That’s par (disrespectful comment), miss. Definitely not how you should treat a punter (costumer), but sure, I can try to translate my English for someone as dim (with lack of common knowledge) as you miss.”

“You really shouldn’t (Y/N) , I think you speak beautifully.” - Eddie put his hand over yours, reassuring you.

The waitress looked at you with a mix of disgust, confusion and ignorance.

“Look, I’m nearly losing my plot (going crazy) right now. It’s a shame how people make you feel like an alien sometimes. What a poor ability to understand people’s roots and culture some people have, but you’re taking the biscuit!”

“(Y/N)” - Eddie got up. - “Let’s go, I won’t let anyone make you feel bad, or ruin our evening.”

“It was an absolute clanger to come here!” - You got up , trying not to lose it. - “Have a nice evening!” - You stormed out the restaurant, Eddie followed you and grabbed your arm gently.

“I’m really sorry about that (Y/N)...”

You fought tears back.

“Did you ever feel like an alien Eddie?” - You looked up at him.

“All the time, yeah...” - He caressed your cheek.

“It’s just... So fucking revolting when people misjudge what they don’t fully understand, when they don’t even make the smallest effort to...” - Eddie knew this better than anyone. And there she was, the huffy (Y/N) he found so cute, but with a hint of sadness , which he wanted to make disappear. - “ I’m sorry I ruined the dinner...”

“First of all, it wasn’t your fault, and who said it was ruined, huh? What about going to my place and having a douchebag-free dinner? Well, except for me!” - He watched your lips curving into a smile , only he could do that in that moment.

“You’re no douchebag!” - You nudged him and you both went to his house.

You refused to let him make the dinner alone, insisting in helping him in whatever tasks you could. Eddie was lovely when he was focused, doing his mental checklist, as you watched him in delight. He wanted things to be just perfect, he just didn’t know his presence was all that you needed for everything to be perfect.

After enjoying the meal, you both sat on the sofa, chatting over a glass of good wine. From time to time Eddie had a piece of chocolate, just to keep Venom in check. He offered you some.

“No, thanks, you’re sweet enough already, if I have more sweetness in my life right now, I’ll have diabetes.” - You giggled.

The warmth of a few glasses of wine and the depth of the conversation made you both get closer.

“But do you know what dessert I wouldn’t mind having right now?”

You moved closer, leaning in, and your lips brushed on his, your heart fluttering. He ran his fingers down your check, bringing you closer with his other hand, until there was no empty space left between you. Your arms reached up, tangling around his neck, as he pressed his tongue gently to the seam of your lips, delving inside your mouth sweetly, the second you let him.

You had imagined this moment, but it never made justice to how good it felt in reality, the warmth, the feeling spreading throughout your whole body.

Eddie kept hungrily kissing you; the way your lips felt on his , that must have been the definition of magic, it obliterated his every thought, his mind was locked in that single moment.

His hand , which was resting on your waistline, suddenly turned black, Venom decided it was time for Eddie to make the next move and touch your skin, slowly sliding under your shirt. It was warm, and slippery.

“Eddie, you’re tickling me, I can’t focus like that!” - You broke the kiss laughing and took a moment to breath, opening your eyes and resting your forehead on his.

“I’m sorry...” - He smiled, and kissed you again before you noticed his hand. He then took it off your waist, shaking it frantically , trying to make Venom understand that that was not the moment for him to step in.

He pinned you between him and the sofa, his body pressing against yours. You bit his lower lip , pulling it playfully, and he lost control, letting a low moan escape his lips.

“Eddie, that’s not the physical reaction you have when I bite people...” - Venom made a cheeky remark.

“I just love dessert, man...” - Eddie got up, lifting you and helping you wrap your legs around his waist, as he filled you with kisses on the way to te bedroom.

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hylocerea · 5 years

Text

A Light in the Black

((This piece is not written from Hylo's perspective. This is intentional. The next will be.))

"Mister Keldronai?"

The false-human glanced up from his ledger, peering over the half-moon lenses he pretended to need. "Yes, Melinda? Is something wrong?"

The woman was more nervous than usual, a curious change of demeanour. Her sureness was rarely affected by anything she was familiar with, so this had to mean something new. And new meant exciting to a creature like him.

"Not… wrong, exactly, no. There's just… a new customer who we're not sure how to handle."

He raised an eyebrow.

"It's a… draenei. One of the, ah, shiny ones. With the gold."

A Lightforged? Oh ho ho! Exciting indeed! He stood, closing his accounts with a smile. "Please let them know I will be right out to discuss business personally."

"Of course, sir. Thank you."

As she relatched the door behind her, he laughed softly, removing the wire frames from his face and setting them stop the ledger. He felt a deep excitement at this; draenei were exceeding rare among his clientele already. One of their Lightforged paragons was completely unexpected.

He took a moment to review his illusion in the mirror before exiting his office. Everything appeared in order, the pale skin of humanity draped over his form with practiced precision. He'd taken to streaking the black hair he'd been using for years with more grey, to better match his appearance as a man in the later stages of middle age. Everything seemed to be in order, though he had a moment of uncertainty. The Lightforged were special, he knew, theoretically imbued with some touch of the Light by way of a ritual involving the naaru. He wondered if this one would be able to see through him.

Keldronai knew how reckless it was to meet in a public space with someone potentially able to reveal him. That was part of the thrill. What may not have been apparent was how many backup plans he had in place or how easy it would be to explain such a thing away to the people being treated at his facility. The retreat catered to those suffering from nightmares and distorted perceptions; anyone declaring him a monster from beyond was clearly in the right place!

Still… perhaps some extra caution was in order. He kept himself on the razor's edge, assured by the immediate availability of his strength should it be required. The strain doing so placed on his mental faculties was not comfortable, but he could live with it for the next hour or so without too much trouble.

The "man" entered the resort's main lobby smiling, a picture of politely solicitous warmth. His pressed white shirt contrasted perfectly with the straight black of trousers, vest, and necktie. Those were the same shade as his glossy, shoulder-length hair, though without the same amount of grey streaking. "Welcome," he greeted the caprine woman. "I'm Keldronai -- Kel, if you like -- and I would be happy to talk to you about what you seek and what we can offer you."

The draenei eyed him with suspicion, though probably no more than she would anyone else. Her eyes were faintly glowing -- gold, of course -- and delicately angled in a face seemingly carved from living marble. She was beautiful in a distant, alien fashion, though the sternness showing through via posture and expression ensured one knew the beauty was purely aesthetic. There was no air of sensuality to be found.

"I am told," she said with little accent and no trace of uncertainty, "that you deal in dreams. That you are able to… affect… what one sees in their sleep. Or perhaps what one does not see. Is this true?"

He considered the implications before responding, trying to decide what she was asking. "It is true, depending on what you take that to mean. We offer an array of services, many of which can help resolve issues with poor sleep or troublesome dreams." He smiled a tiger's smile. "I would be happy to discuss your case in specific and draw up a recommended course of treatment."

Those glowing eyes narrowed slightly as she weighed his statement against some inscrutable metric. He wondered what he looked like through those eyes, even more curious if perhaps he could find out by stepping into her dreams. The taste of the unknown was so close, he was near to salivating.

"I would be willing to speak in confidence, yes. Privately, of course, and with assurances that it will remain so." There was a hesitation as she stopped herself from saying something more. He waited until her lips settled once again into a firm line so as not to interrupt.

With one nod to the horned woman and another to Melinda at the front desk, he gestured toward the door by which he'd entered. "Please join me in my office then," he entreated, perfectly tuned to a human image of kindly invitation.

Another hesitation preceded the acquiescent nod. Kel pondered the possibilities as he led the way through several short corridors. She is more afraid of being here than not. Her worry is about more than the content of her dreams. She has much to lose, though it is more personal than tangible. He opened the door to his office, allowing her to step inside first.

In the interests of efficiency and keeping up appearances, the space was the natural union of comfortable furnishings and a well-maintained library. The books on the shelves were all real, often treatises on Azerothian cultures and beliefs; the papers neatly arranged on the desk exactly what one would expect from a man administering a health and wellness retreat outside a capital city. He offered the draenei a seat in one of the leather armchairs opposite the desk, waiting for her to arrange herself before easing into the other.

"So," he began, "something has been bothering you lately. To start, please tell me as much as you are comfortable with revealing. The more complete a picture, the easier it is for me to suggest a path to where you wish to be."

He leaned back then, folding hands in his lap to wait. Patience was more than a virtue in this line of work, it was a necessity. Watching others struggle with where to begin their stories also offered the opportunity to observe them, build a better mental picture of the client. Keeping his excitement restrained was honestly the most difficult part.

"I… have had recurring dreams." The woman spoke slowly, frowning at the floor between them. "I am not often a dreamer, but I am even less often one who dreams of… bad things. Unpleasantness. Yet for some time now, I have had many instances of dark dreams, amongst which I have had the same one far too many times."

"I see," he said softly, watching the way the warm lamplight seemed magnified by proximity to her braided white-gold hair. A curious phenomenon, seemingly bereft of any active spellcraft on her part. "Repeated dreams -- or nightmares, the Common word for those dreams which are deeply unsettling or frightening -- are often believed to have special meaning. Sometimes it is a matter of great importance and worry, but there are many cases where there is a hint of prophecy to them."

He paused, shifting his posture to lean slightly forward. An expression of interest while also politely conspiratorial. "I have only a few experiences with the dreams of draenei, but those have suggested a certain gift for… potent imaginings. Perhaps a hint at how the great Velen came to be a prophet, even. As you are the first Lightforged to visit, I cannot say with certainty your experiences are the same, but I am inclined towards believing they are only more likely to have great importance given what I know of your people."

Her gaze slowly raised to meet his, the corners of her mouth straining to avoid pulling back into a frown. "That is not as comforting as you may think. I would much prefer the opposite."

Now that was interesting. Dreams of horror from a naaru-tainted creature? Dreams so unsettling she was willing to seek out help from beyond her people? What a delicious project this could be!

"In your position, I imagine I would feel much the same." He used one of his friendlier smiles, the sort reserved for frequent customers with whom he was on good terms. "However, discovering the nature of one's dreams is often the best way to determine how to handle them."

She sighed. His statement had obviously been expected, though she would have preferred otherwise. "What do you suggest then?"

"To start? A night or two on the premises. With your consent, I will monitor your dreams and sleep patterns for irregularities, outside influences, and similar issues."

"And if you find none of those or I do not dream?"

"Then I would recommend staying as long as it takes for the nightmares or recurring dreams to manifest again."

The skin around her eyes pulled tighter. A look of suspicion, no doubt, though he'd not encountered it before from a draenei. "That sounds like it would be greatly enriching to you."

It would, but not the way you're thinking. "If I were charging by the night, you would be correct. That is not how this place is structured, however. We are diagnosing an issue, and a difficult one. Until I can offer something beyond vague suggestion and what may be an inconvenience to your personal life, there will be no talk of payment."

She blinked, taken aback. "I am… surprised by that. You run contrary to many other human establishments."

Kel shrugged, leaning back once more and crossing one leg over the other. "For traditional services -- massages, guided meditations, simple dream warding -- there are set costs. Many of our customers know already what they want and seek it. We provide in exchange for a reasonable fee, enough to ensures our employees and caretakers are able to live well. But that is simply one aspect of what we do. Treating disordered dreaming is as much a health issue as many life-threatening diseases; requiring payment before even finding out what ails you would be… deeply unethical."

Their eyes locked for a long moment, the intensity of the stare making him more curious than ever what she saw when she looked at him. Eventually some conclusion was reached. She allowed herself to blink, nodded once, sharply. "As you say then. I presume my expectation of complete privacy in whatever room you provide is correct?"

"It is. Provided you agree to it -- and you will be asked every night -- the only time that would not be private is what you see in dreams. And even that would be restricted to a single other person who will not discuss the details with anyone but you."

"I see." She breathed deeply, her backswept horns describing a semicircle as she shook her head. "Then I suppose I am seeking… admittance… to your facility."

"Seeking is not necessary. Our space is yours as long as is needed." He stood slowly, giving her the opportunity to rise at whatever speed she chose. "If you please, let us return to the front desk. You can sign in there and we will go over what other services are included and which may cost extra."

"That is acceptable, yes."

"Very well." As they made their way back, he began a proper introduction. "Since you are now my guest, please know you can ask for me at any time. My name is Keldronai, and I am the founder of this retreat. Of the people here, I am the only one who handles cases that involve the viewing of others' dreams. The arcane techniques that allow me to do so appear to be unteachable, a fluke of circumstance rather than a more formal science, so you needn't worry about potential snooping from others. The rest of the staff handles more traditional things -- warding circles, managing the steam baths and saunas, and so on. If you have any questions while you are with us, simply ask."

She nodded, staring grimly ahead. "Very well, Master Keldronai."

"That all being said… how would you like to be addressed by me and the rest of the staff? Whatever makes you most comfortable is what I recommend, whether it is your real name or not."

She stopped midstride to give him an uninterpretable look. When he merely waited, she said, "I am… Hylocerea. That will do for me. If that is difficult for your tongue, however, 'Hylo' is an… acceptable… alternative."

"As you say, Hylocerea. Come, let us get you settled in properly."

#warcraft rp #rp #world of warcraft

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

Text

And All The Queen’s Men {Roger Taylor}

A/N: 5486 words. Okay wow. Please bare with me, this is a long one and also a bit of a different one. Written in the style of a Rolling Stone article. Finished it at 7am. Prompt & support from the lovely @ginghampearlsnsweettea

[And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse masterpost]

Warning: Minor character death, in both senses, it’s a baby, it’s not graphic it’s just mentioned, but just thought I should let you know.

And All The Queen’s Men: how the lines blurred between Queen and and the Queen of Jazz Rock.

An article almost two years in the making, after their last tour, which I was invited along to in order to write the initial article, the rock sensation Queen split, a decision, I am lead to be believe, was instigated by front man Freddie Mercury, and though Giselle Jones had continued to make music, even before her very public, on-stage breakdown, her lawyers had me keep the article to myself. Now, with the band’s reunion, and Live Aid having been a massive success with both powerhouse musical names coming back into the public eye, I’ve invited them back to my office for one last interview, but mostly to beg them to let me publish this article.

Which, obviously, they allowed.

It’s 1985, and with them all sitting in front of me, I feel a sense of deja vu. There are some changes, of course, Roger Taylor’s hair is shorter, Giselle Jones is wearing jeans and a sweater rather than her well-known cocktail dress, but John Deacon’s still smiling at me, Brian’s looking about the room, perhaps seeing if anything’s changed, and Freddie Mercury’s draped casually on the left of the only non-Queen member of the bunch.

But before I get into the past two years, maybe I should take you back a bit, to when Giselle and Queen began collaborating.

Giselle Jones began in the late sixties as the front-woman of a swing band in a thirties theme pub known as Modern Glamour. Tall, elegant, with a voice like honey, she had a small following of regulars that frequented the pub, but had kept her passion from music from her family, claiming she was merely a waitress at the establishment, since her father was an executive at EMI, and she didn’t want to seem like the subject of nepotism.

However, one fateful day, her father brings music industry giant to the pub for lunch, hoping to catch Giselle at work and introduce her, but as you know, they both got a lot more than they bargained for. Foster sees potential in her, and offers her a contract if she’s willing to modernise her act, and as we all know, she does.

When Giselle releases her first album in 1970, Velvet Roses, which would be the first and only “Jazz” record to hit the Top 40 charts for that year, Queen are still playing pub gigs around London, though they’re looking at recording their first album, which would eventually get EMI’s attention, but that’s still not for a while. At this point, they’re the biggest fish in a very small uni-pub pond, and they need the means to grow. So out goes the band’s van, for one night in a recording studio.

“Like, in retrospect, of course it was the right decision.” Taylor leans against the back of the sofa he’s sitting on in my office in 1982, voice contemplative and fingers locked together as he looks into the past. “But I was twenty-two at the time, selling my van was a big deal.”

“A big enough deal that you wrote a song about it.” Giselle adds, sitting beside him in the middle of the sofa. Deacon hides a smile though May doesn’t hide his snort of laughter.

The smirked remark is at odds with her look. While the boys are all in various states of brightly patterned shirts and jeans, looking casual and comfortable; Giselle wears white, sequinned, off-the-shoulder gown that hugs her figure and hits the floor, a slit in the thigh where her leg crosses, dark skin a stunning contrast to both the white fabric of her dress, and the leather of my sofa. Hands folded in over her knee, there’s not a singular hair out of place where she’s got it slicked back; I can’t look at her directly, she’s so focused and well put-together that it’s like staring at the sun.

The contrast has always been apparent in their various works, though Mercury has, in the past, cited her as an early inspiration for his desire to add a certain classical gravitas to rock and roll, and though she hasn’t publicly stated anything, the amount of covers Giselle has performed lived could fill an album. And now, here they are, about leave for a double-billed tour of the US, which I have been asked to join.

But their connection goes back much further than this, all the way back to 1975, to the release of the smash-hit single Bohemian Rhapsody That very same year, Giselle releases her fifth single, Dinner and a Show, a lyrically dissonant, heart pumping anthem that’s a metaphor for the way any type of review fuelled her, since it meant people were talking about her work.

You serve yourself on a platter; your putrid delights, / yet how can I refrain? / You don’t come to flatter, you don’t want to go / so come on baby, / don’t you know? / You’re treating me to dinner and a show.

Giselle’s usually silky performance is turned into a masterclass of vocal gymnastics as she slides easily from the rough intensity of rock and roll, to the smooth purr of jazz as she sings about eating critics for breakfast.

They say a free mind makes the meat so tender / now you’re on the menu and I’m a big spender

The song itself comes as a response to her former manager about how her “aggressive” move to music that more stylistically rock and roll was alienating older audiences, though Foster, still her producer at the time, was pushing for her to skew to a younger audience, and it seemed as though he had gotten his way.

The real change, however, was the B-Side of the record. After speaking to Jim “Miami” Beach, Queen’s lawyer, regarding potentially covering one of the band’s songs, Giselle reveals that she was eventually told to just ask them directly.

“I gave Miami a letter that basically explained that I’d like to cover one of their songs for my new album,” Giselle gives me a thin smile, and I feel like I’ve done something wrong, even though I’m assured by Brian that her public persona “is just like that sometimes”.

“- and I thought it was a joke! I said ‘yeah, sure, what’s the worst that could happen’.” Mercury laughs, leaning forward elbows on his knees and eyes shinning with amusement. “I did not believe for one second that Giselle, Giselle-” repeating her name for emphasis, his hand comes to quickly rest on hers where she still has them perfectly still on her knee, a moment of solidarity, “wanted anything to do with us. Hand Held Heart had been at the top of the US charts for almost three whole weeks the year before.” Letting out a long, wistful sigh, Mercury sits back, still grinning, though he’s got this far away look on his face now.

“So we’d been stuck on a farm, recording A Night At The Opera for weeks with no outside communications, ” May fills in where Mercury’s faded into his own memories, and Taylor slings arm around Giselle where she’s actually relaxed somewhat, hands now in her lap. Curiously, she doesn’t shrug him off. “And when we get back, it turns out that she’s put a jazz cover of Jesus, yeah, that song from our first album, on the B-Side of her newest single.”

“Freddie practically had a heart attack.” Deacon adds, patting Mercury’s shoulder fondly.

In her own way, she was continuing the trend that Dinner and a Show had started, and that seven-inch single would bestow upon Giselle the title of Queen of Jazz Rock. It hadn’t been the first time she had acknowledged the band publicly, by the time she had released the single, her public persona had gained enough traction that, a few months prior to her recording of the cover, a reporter had asked if Killer Queen, Queen’s biggest hit at the time, had been written about her. The question had been caught on camera by the reporter after one of her tour stops in the Midwest of America; the footage is a favourite of fans, including myself, of the way she doesn’t even turn, simply calls over her shoulder, ‘they should be so lucky’, and she gets into her waiting car.

“I never took offence,” Mercury tells me, both in 1982, and 1985, as I bring it up both times to consolidate the origins of their musical partnership.

“You wouldn’t, you were all starry-eyed for her back then.” Taylor leans back to address Mercury behind Giselle’s head, but only when he says it the first time, in 1982.

“It was a bit of a dig at us,” Deacon agrees with the drummer, nodding before shrugging. “A lot of good came out of it, though.” The others seem to agree, but Giselle herself has stayed quiet. For the first time since the interview started, she looks away from me, gaze dipping as she seems inclined to speak, though she takes her time to weigh up her words before she says them, wondering exactly what will and will not be printed.

“It was a bit of s**t thing to say. I was twenty-four and I panicked, I had to keep up my... this persona.” She gestures now to herself, breaking the entire physicality as she lets herself lean back, and I feel like I can breathe, seeing her act so human. Adjusting, she lets herself rest of the slightest of diagonals, shoulder to shoulder with Taylor’s arm still around her, now with Mercury petting her knee in solidarity.

Once in the tour bus, the difference between Giselle Jones, the woman, and Giselle, the singer and personality, becomes almost jarring to see. As soon as we get into the bus, she strips off the gown she was wearing, I turn away, though the others don’t seem to be bothered by it, May takes the dress to a waiting assistant by the door, and when I turn back, she’s in a pair of sweat pants and Taylor is tossing her shirt several sizes too big for her. For the first time since I’ve learned about her, Giselle looks comfortable, looks approachable and, for lack of a better word, non-robotic, taking a hairbrush from a drawer and flopping onto one of the beds as she brushes out the gel, apparently not bothering with a shower just yet.

“I showered this morning.” She seems to have caught my confused look, and explains herself. With her guard lowered in the familiar situation, her natural voice shines through, a rich, yet feminine alto, reminiscent of her singing voice. It adds to the list of things that add character to her beyond what her “persona” could ever convey. Or perhaps that’s the point.

The bus itself is almost too small for the five performers, and I’m certain it won’t fit me, but Giselle and I watch as they cram a blow up bed onto the kitchen table. It looks stable, and for the opportunity to experience living in such close quarters with such big names, I’d take anything.

“Sorry, darling, Paul takes the only spare bed.” Mercury informs me as I shimmy up onto the bed to test if it would hold. I had thought that the vehicle was at capacity, though it does make sense that the band’s day-to-day manager, Paul Prenter, would be travelling with them. That being said, I hadn’t realised there was even a spare bed, there was only five, perhaps none of them had wanted to be subjected to the blow up bed and decided to share instead.

When we finally get on the road, I get to finally see their true dynamics emerge. We all know the Queen dynamics by now, brotherly yet volatile, at times. I had worried for Giselle at times, the concept of living with four men (five if you count Prenter, who Giselle does not seem to, when I ask her about it, though I don’t think that’s a subject I should pry about, judging by the look on Taylor’s face where I can see him lounging at the back of the bus). However, I should have not have been worried; first of all, despite the youthfulness of their appearances, performances, and spirit, these are all men in their 30s, Giselle herself being 31 at the time of writing (1982), and they all have experience living with women, and with each other.

“First tour was a nightmare.” Deacon’s joined me on the blowup bed, is sipping tea as we travel along. “We learned real quick how disgusting close quarters can be.” He’s a quiet soul, but observant, and honestly I really enjoy his company. Anyone who can weather over a decade of rock and roll and come out as calm as him deserves some sort of recognition. “It’s much better now. Mostly.” He smiles like it’s an inside joke, but won’t elaborate. Giselle and Taylor refuse to clarify what he means by that, May just laughs when I ask him, directing me back to ask Taylor and Giselle, and Mercury calls them all gossips.

It’s something about the tour lifestyle that must bring out the childishness in them all, which comes out strongly during dinner. They shove my blowup bed into the sleeping quarters when dinner is served, and the five of us manage to cram into the tiny booth the bus allows. May, Deacon and Giselle are in charge of cooking dinner, sausages, potatoes, and peas, since apparently Prenter and Mercury have taken lunch duties, and Roger has put himself in charge of getting coffee and tea for everyone in the morning.

“We should really eat breakfast.” Giselle muses through half a mouthful of food.

“I do!” Deacon, next to me, comes back with, pouring some more peas onto his plate.

“You just eat cereal from the box, Deaky, that’s not breakfast.” Taylor counters him, which just causes the rest of the table to devolve into an argument about what counts as breakfast. Prenter, who has joined us for the meal, looks like he’d rather be napping or still driving, and makes quiet work of his meal.

Roger Taylor goes to sleep after me, and wakes up before I do, and I’m not sure how he does it. Or where he sleeps, the other beds seem taken. He wakes me up on the first morning by shoving my bed, which slides a few centimeters, but isn’t about to fall off it’s perch.

“You want coffee?” I’m barely functioning at this point, and his question baffles me. “Tea? Coffee? Deaky’s cereal? We got some left over sausages.” He lists off, probably due to my clear confusion, he seems exasperated, even though he’s definitely wearing pyjamas too. He’s still scowling a little when I tell him how I like my coffee, but he doesn’t complain, and it tastes exactly like I like it when he hands it over. The bus is stationary, so he can put the cups by the bedsides of those they are for, but interestingly enough he joins me on the table/bed.

I know the origin story of Queen, I think everyone does at this point, so I ask him instead about the subject of my article; how Queen got involved with Giselle.

“You wanna know how I met Giselle?” It’s not exactly what I asked, but he’s already thinking about it, looking past me to the sleeping quarters with a frown. He plays absent-mindedly with the chain around his neck, and with the ring attached to it. “I thought everyone knew about that, the whole thing where we hated each other from the start?” When I ask if it was true, he actually laughs, though it’s more a snort of derision, if I’m being honest. “Of course not. Mostly.” They all seem to like that word, I hadn’t taken them all to be vague.

“I told him to take a long walk off a short pier.” Giselle will clarify for me later that day, joining me as I take a smoke break at one of our bathroom stops, not that there isn’t a toilet on the bus, they just try to avoid using it as much as possible. She doesn’t smoke, claims she never has, but enjoys the company, while the boys are buying snacks at the gas station. I ask when it was, she gives me another thin smile, but not like it had been in the office. Here it’s the punctuation to an earlier joke rather than a judgement.

She tells me about how she actually met them all, recording her second album, after her 1972 performance on Top of the Pops, you know the one. It had cemented Giselle’s now iconic aesthetic of an off the shoulder, floor length sequinned gown, silk gloves, and bold red lipstick, dark hair falling victory curls, the whole look reminiscent of an old Hollywood star, though there was red glitter trailing from her lips, and on her gloves in a theatrical fabrication of blood. It had been a look inspired by her musical roots, and the theatricality of the then-popular glam rock, a movement which would inspire many of Mercury’s tour looks also.

She was twenty-one at the time, still “developing her persona”, when she found that the in-house recording equipment at EMI was being used by the then-still quite unknown Queen. Or rather, according to Giselle, just Taylor.

“He was packing up the last of his equipment, and he makes a pass at me, thinks I’m an intern.” We can see the boys leaving the gas station, Taylor himself heading the pack. “So yeah, told him to take a long walk off a short pier.” She laughs, seems to hold the memory quite dear. “That b******d has the gall to look me in the eyes and ask who I am.”

“Did he know who you were?” When I look at her, she’s still smiling, tipping her head to the side as the boys draw close. She seems to be paying attention to me, but not a lot.

“Yeah, told me later he was just pissed I didn’t throw myself at him. That’s why I said that, ‘they should be so lucky’ thing, actually, that motherf****r right there.” The way she says it, raising her finger to point at him, makes me think it’s a story she’s told before, one that he knows about.

“You talking about me?” Taylor yells, and Giselle is quick to answer that she is. “Don’t spill all my secrets.” It sounds like an order, but his smile says it’s not, it’s weirdly playful, a dynamic I didn’t expect from them, especially considering their history. I raise the point. She laughs at me.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Prenter calls for everyone on the bus, and Giselle doesn’t think to clarify once we’re back on board.

The tour, I should have mentioned earlier, is a double feature; Queen is promoting their album Hot Space, while Giselle is promoting her own, The Bend Before the Break. When I ask her about the album itself, she talks happily about a few of the songs, however when I bring up my personal favourites, Ache and Heaven Sent, she turns very quiet.

I will end up watching most of her performances, and to this day, I have never seen something as raw and spiritual as Giselle performing Ache.

The lights dim as the joyful Meant to Be finishes. On the studio recording, a double bass starts the song, long, grieving and angry notes that pick up in tempo as it’s joined by drums and a piano, and finally, her voice, low, bitter and seductive in equal measure. Here, there’s silence, as she gently croons the open lines, face illuminated by only a single gold light, as swirling red and purple lights move about the stage.

While saying you were sorry, / you burned me from the outside, in. / Now I’m calloused all over, / And too tired to feel the sting. / But I feel the ache, / feel the ache / feel the ache. / I’ll still let you back in.

She plays the piano herself for this song, a skill, I later learn Mercury had taught her many years ago. It’s a song that tugs at your gut, gets you thinking about how you keep people in your life who aren’t the best for you. She ends the last chorus with a long, mournful wail that you feel in your bones.

I’ve never heard a crowd so quiet as when she finishes Ache, the penultimate song of her set list, unless you count encores.

The final song of the night is always Heaven Sent, a bright, headbanging anthem with the musical gravitas of a full jazz band. It was her single from the album, it topped most charts. You know the one. The radio won’t stop playing it.

Divinity with a neon glow / it hung above his head, / promoting his next show. / Didn’t even try to find my light, / just the darkness he’d bestow. / Heaven sent me the Morningstar.

“I was cheated on.” Was all she will say about the songs.

The others steer clear of those songs as well, when talking about the album, as well as the titular song, The Bend Before the Break, though Giselle claims she has moved on from the feelings associated in all three songs.

“I wrote them first on the album, I’ve moved on.”

Each of the boys seems very protective of Giselle at times, though Taylor is by far the worst. If I’m being honest, was weird to me, they’d been at each other’s throats publicly and professionally for almost a full decade after Giselle’s initial comment, however the vitriol had died down in the past few years, so I enquire about that about halfway through the six week tour.

“We set them up.” May is the first to answer, sipping tea with myself, Deacon and Mercury. Since both Giselle and Taylor adjourned to the sleeping quarters. I ask him what he means.

“They tell it better.” Mercury interjects, but May argues that they’re asleep anyways so it’s not like it matters. Deacon agrees with Mercury, but quiet enough that May ignores him.

“So by ‘79, we’ve collaborated together, us and ‘Zelle, I mean,” the nickname is mostly used by May and Taylor, though Deacon uses it on occasion, “a couple of times, and we love her, right boys? We love her-” looking around, both Mercury and Deacon are nodding along, responding to a story they’d both heard before, though it was interesting for my first time hearing it, “but Rog is about ready to stab her with his drumsticks, but that’s just how he is.”

“Threatened to stab me once.” Deacon adds the unnerving information with complete serenity, focused on his cup.

“Me a couple of times.” Mercury shakes his head, as if it were some schoolboy prank rather than a stabbing threat.

“Like I said, just how he is. So we decide to send them to a place where they can bond over complaining about everything else, apart from each other.” I asked how it worked out for them and I watch as their faces fall. This terrible blind date idea must have gone horribly. “They hate the restaurant, which is good, but he goes to leave and bumps the table, spilling beer all over her dress, which is bad,” well, obviously. He pays me no mind, “and she elbows him in the face when she’s putting her jacket on - still don’t know how that one happened - but he still says he’ll take her home because it’s late, except-”

“To preface,” Deacon jumps in here, adding a little more milk to his tea, “she hates I’m In Love With My Car.” The song? Deacon nods. “Rog wrote it.” I can connect the dots, but I’m still confused as to how that lead to them being friends.

“Friends.” Mercury actually laughs into his cup.

“He takes her home anyways, she tells him the song’s s**t bu the sentiment wasn’t far off.” May finishes, shrugging.

“It was a real nice car.” Deacon shrugged, before looking straight at me. “And she still hates the song to this day.” There’s an air of finality to his words that is entirely unwarranted. That isn’t the point of the story; how are they friends now? Did they hook up in his car? Is that what they’re implying, I feel like such a gossip asking these questions.

“Did they ho- ? Yeah, of course.” May laughs, and though it clears some things up, I’m still rather confused. It’s probably reading on my face, because it looks like something else is dawning on him. “You know they’re married, right?”

No. No I did not know. Now I feel like an idiot.

I wonder if The Bend Before the Break is about Taylor? I can sense I’ve touched a nerve when I ask, and Mercury abruptly changes the subject, though the air still doesn’t feel right. When I head back through the sleeping area to get a new pen from my luggage, I catch a glimpse of Giselle napping in her bunk, Taylor too, asleep with his arm around her. She’s even wearing a wedding ring. I’m kicking myself for not noticing sooner. The chain with the ring around Taylor’s neck makes sense now. A lot of things make sense now.

For the next four days I feel like I’m being shunned, I’m the last to be told about dinner and have to eat the leftovers, Giselle barely says two words to me, Taylor just keeps glowering, and someone let the air out of my bed on the second night. It’s childish, but it’s in line with what I expect from them, regarding this sort of issue, I’m just glad Taylor hasn’t poured my coffee on me in my sleep, or spat in it. He just didn’t make it, which I suppose is probably the safest option for me.

The only apology I can think of is to offer to buy them all drinks, but it works well enough, and the next morning I wake to a fresh cup of coffee, and a very hungover Taylor. At least he’s dedicated to his job.

The rest of the tour passes without further incident. I still stand by Ache as one of my favourite musical performances of the decade, though I don’t mention it to Giselle, and now that I know the dynamic between her and Taylor, I can’t stop seeing it. Honestly, readers, they’re all over each other, which is expected from a man of Taylor’s reputation, but it’s still a little jarring to see the two of them so cozy. I must have been blind not to see it before.

When we part ways, Giselle is a little stiff with me.

“You brought up some feelings that I just... hadn’t actually dealt with at the time, which f******d me up.” She tells me in retrospect, sitting in my office with the rest of the boys in 1985. Live Aid was a few weeks ago, and since they all returned to the spotlight, I asked if they wanted to come and reflect on the past few years. The one thing that hasn’t changed is the fact that Giselle still swears like a sailor.

“A lot’s happened in the past few years.” Taylor’s still very protective of her, and after everything that’s conspired, at least from what I know, it’s warranted. We talk about the band splitting, how it had hurt the band as a whole, and even Giselle, who was at the time seeing a counsellor with Taylor. I’m hesitant to broach the topic of their relationship, though they seem like a solid until now, sitting before me, holding hands and leaning against one another.

I ask if Giselle’s breakdown was due to the band splitting, though I’m hesitant if I’ll get a response. Her smile is sad, which is mirrored by the rest of the band. I can guess her response before she says it.

“No.”

You all know the moment I’m talking about, the last concert for her last album, as of this publication, Finally, Sunlight where she had receive pleas from the audience for an encore. When she came back out, part of her makeup had been smudged around her eyes, and you can hear her sniffle over the microphone. (”I’m so sorry, I lost someone close to me, I thought I could keep it together for one night.” Dabbing at her eyes, she sits at the piano and laughs, but there’s no heart in it. “But I’ve got five more minutes left in me, let’s go, Atlanta.”) The song she plays is Somebody to Love, a slow, soulful cover, and the audience is almost unanimous in their raised lighters and slow swaying. As she goes on, she just starts crying harder, missing notes, hands shaking; the extended ‘Looooord’ before the chanting becomes a desperate wail, a plea to the heavens, and she collapses onto the piano, sobbing audibly as the instruments all come to uncertain halt and lighters go down in confusion.

From the crowd, a single voice begins to chant ‘Find me somebody to love. / Find me somebody to love.’ and a single voice turns to a theatre, full to the brim, as they sing when she can’t, still crying against the piano. Lighters go up, and together the audience and the band finishes the song where words have failed her. It was televised locally on the night, and still brings me to tears when I watch it now.

“We lost our daughter.”

For those of you reading this who are shocked, I am too. Sitting there like a fool, not saying anything.

“I was on tour, and Rog was at home with her,” even now, Giselle is getting a little teary-eyed, not that I blame her. Both Taylor and Mercury have an arm around her, and May has a hand on her shoulder, Deacon sitting on the back of the sofa right behind her. A unit. A family. “I wanted to go home, she was getting really sick, and I know he was doing everything he could, but I just- I wanted to be there... but my label threatened to sue me for... millions.” It sounds like it’s hard to say, and she’s wiping a tear from her eyes. I offer her the tissues on my desk. “But I should have gone home. I should have been there by her side, I should have done more.” Taylor whispers something to her and she leans against him, taking comfort in him.

“I had to call her, tell her that... that she’d passed. The day of the show. She’d been so upset for week, ‘Zelle that is, and everything just-” Taylor manages to get a great handle on his emotions, despite his misty eyes and shaking hands. “We’re alright now though, see? Nothing can tear us apart.” Though his voice does drop, so I think he’s saying it more for Giselle’s benefit. I give them all time to collect themselves, stop to get hot drinks for everyone, and everyone finally seems happy enough to answer when I ask what’s next for them.

“Music, of course.” Mercury says, now holding what was Giselle’s free hand. The rest of the gathered musicians agree. I ask if we’ll be hearing any sort of collaboration between Queen and the Queen of Jazz Rock. Taylor snickers, pulling Giselle close.

“Yeah, but not in the way you mean.” He ignores the rest of the men’s shouts of disgust, as well as his wife’s own gagging noise, which I can see on her face she regrets as she covers her mouth with caution, before giving the okay.

“No, we’re okay, we’re good.” She assures everyone, before looking at me. “What he meant to say is that I’m pregnant.” She clarifies. Taylor is still grinning.

“Don’t be gross, Rog.” May calls from the other side of the sofa, and Taylor has the gall to look accosted.

“What’s next for me, after everything that’s happened, is family.” Giselle says over the sounds of her husband’s indignant huffs, though his expression turns soft at her words, and they ignore the ‘boo’s of everyone else as they kiss.

“Could you be less gross around company?” Deacon asks, still mild-mannered as ever. This seems to be the cue for the interview to end, as Taylor of Giselle-

“It’s Giselle Taylor, by the way, I’m sorry I hadn’t corrected you earlier.” She corrects me now, as [Roger] Taylor leads her out of the door. The rest of the band seem mildly exasperated at their antics, but still ready to answer my questions. After everything that’s happened, I’m a little overwhelmed, I’m not sure where to go from here.

Perhaps my next article will be on Live Aid.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen imagine #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #the angry lizard writes #bohemian rhapsody imagine

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chaniters · 5 years

Text

A giant monster attacks!

Super Sentai Rangers AU.

I must say I didn’t expect writing a Sentai AU would be so hard. These stories have LOTS of different elements to juggle, and I wanted to keep most of what I could from the original setting. Took much longer than I thought. This is the second part, and it pretty much finishes setting the stage for the series.

I’ve got a newfound respect for these kinds of series!

Hope you enjoy this…!

It doesn’t take long to realize Mia Ochoa had not managed to get a good view of just how bad the situation was.

For starters, the giant floating disc actually looks larger than it looked on TV. And the blue beam is still in use, teleporting squads of soldiers to the ground, all wearing the strange silver armor. There are corpses everywhere, it seems they went guns blazing when they initially took the park. Several overturned police cars remain as a burning testament of the futility of the city’s security force.

The soldiers seem to be amassing in battallions through all of Memorial Park, probably ready to rampage across the city.

As to whether they’re actually aliens… that remains to be determined. You can sense their minds in the distance, but the park is open ground. It’d be hard to get close enough to get a good read without getting noticed.

You can only wonder why isn’t the army here already, but that’s a mystery for another time. Right now, you need to figure out how to put an end to this.

You hear footprints behind you. You get into a fighting stance and…

“You’re fast!” It’s actually pleasing to hear the familiar voice this time.

“Charge. I thought you got lost in traffic… Welcome to this mess” you say inviting him to share your vantage point.

You can’t help feel weird as he joins you… You’re back on the same team, but you’re wearing your villain outfit and he doesn’t know it’s you. It was confusing enough when you were beating each other up.

“So do you guys have a plan?” you ask.

“A plan against an army of space invaders with a flying saucer?” He says in a sarcastic tone.

“Yeah… nevermind that… Aren’t the rest of your cavalry going to arrive soon?”

“Alas my dear villain, the cavalry is us. There are similar attacks going on in other cities. Also, Steel, Herald, and Argent are delayed helping the LDPD mount a barricade. So until they can join us it’s just us”

Deja vu can be hurtful. You go silent for a moment. Does he feel it too?

“Why didn’t you go with them instead?” you ask

“We need someone to see the action up close while keeping the civilians safe… and let’s be honest, no way we were going to send the new blood to work along with you so it was Steel or me, and he’s the Marshall. Plus, we don’t know when are you going to backstab us. Also, please don’t backstab me?” he asks with a nervous smile.

“I’ll take your request into consideration” You let out.

“Ha! You can make jokes. Wait It was a joke right?”

You ignore him while enhancing the zoom in your mask’s visor to get a better look. Something’s not right with their weapons

“What is it?” he asks, focusing on them as well.

“Take a good look at their weapons,” you say pointing at them.

Charge’s helm flickers as he zooms in too. He gasps after a few seconds.

“They’re military energy guns!”

“Exactly. Which means they’re not aliens if they’re using USA military supplies…”

“But why would the army attack their own city?”

“You’re the government goon not me, remember? , you figure that out. Still we should at least find what they’re planning so we can figure a way to stop them.”

“And how do you propose we do that?”

“We take one of those soldiers prisoner”

“And then he’ll gladly tell us his whole plans?”

You tap your helmet. “I’m a half-decent telepath in case you didn’t notice”

“You can do that?”

“I’ve mind-controlled swarms of people… you guys saw me do it… why wouldn’t I be able to get some information?”

He ponders for a few seconds before answering. “I guess I’m not used to telepaths being so powerful. I only knew one well… he…”.

No. No no no. you’re not doing this. Not like this. He’s not going to talk to you about yourself.

“Save it. Let’s set up an ambush over there” you point at a distant part of the park. A few soldiers are patrolling the area far apart. “We should be able to snatch one of them easily near those trees,” you add, and simply start running, forcing him to follow. Hopefully, he won’t bring Sidestep up again.

………………………………………………….

“NOW!” Ortega cries out, charging onto them. Really? Did he have to announce it?

With a groan, you charge behind him. The soldiers turn immediately but you still manage a pair of solid hits. The two put up quite more of a fight than you had anticipated, but end up going down at about the same time.

“They’re though” Charge complains rubbing his fist.

“I’m more concerned about their numbers… and their minds are just… odd” you mutter as you take one of the unconscious soldier’s arms while Charge gets hold of his legs and helps you take him behind a large oak tree.

“Time to do your mind-trick”

“It’s not a trick” you complain. Fuck. This is too familiar. “Just watch for them,” you tell him before focusing on his mind.

It’s strange. Odd, yet familiar. And there are many safeguards… hidden paths and you can’t help feeling you’ve seen something like this before. It takes a moment before you manage to infiltrate into his inner thoughts.. protected as if someone else had installed a lock… and when you open the door…

“FUCK!” you almost scream opening your eyes and letting go.

“SHHH! You’re going to get us caught!”

“This is bad… bad bad bad…” you can’t help repeating.

“What is?”

“They are… they… they’re not humans”

“So they ARE aliens after all?!” he asks in confusion.

“No.. no they are… ” You sigh “Let me show you…”

You hold your hand to the soldier, the nanites disintegrating his armor. Revealing the blue skin. The orange tattoos.

“A re-gene?”

You nod slowly. Whatever could you say to him right now?

“Crap… Always thought those things were going to turn against us one day”

It’s like a gut-punch to hear those words. You take a few steps back in shock. He doesn’t really notice and gets on his wrist-com.

“Steel? Our good frenemy Retribution just figured out the big mystery. They are rebel re-genes!”

“What? What’s the Special Directive up to?” You hear his garbled voice from the intercom.

“I’m not sure, but come over soon, we’re going to need all of us to figure out a plan to…”

Your gaze goes blurry, watching the scene at the park. Regenes attacking humans. A revolution against your masters… Maybe you’re on the wrong side of this? You thought it was aliens, and the Governor offered you a deal, but once again, all your plans go up in smoke. They aren’t aliens. They’re your people. Shouldn’t you be helping them? Ortega’s distracted right now… You could knock him down and join them… This is what you…

No. No this isn’t it. You can smell the burning cars. You can see the blood and the corpses. This isn’t the revolution you had hoped for. This is just a senseless massacre.

It’s just a…

“What the hell… are you seeing that Charge?” Steel asks

“What do you mean?” he says lifting his gaze from his intercom. You turn as well.

The disc is turning… and a large pod the size of medium-sized truck detaches from it. and lands in the middle of the park, generating a large cloud of dust.

As it clears you can see the pod right there… cracked.

The soldiers surround it and start tearing it open. There is a greenish liquid coming from inside as it breaks down.

“It’s almost like… an egg?” you say out loud.

“What you mean there’s something alive inside?” Charge asks in shock.

“Give me a clear image you two!” Steel demands from the intercom. Charge complies, pointing the thing at the pod.

Soon enough what appears to be a claw emerges from inside, and the soldiers jump back. The creature inside breaks what remains of the pod and stands.

Tall… numerous legs, and a long red tail ending on a stinger. THe face looks human.. but with fangs and blood red eyes..

A dark figure approaches, the soldiers making way. It’s wearing a strange black suit with a helmet. You try to zoom in more. The new individual seems to be giving orders, and soon enough, the soldiers clear a large area around the emerging creature.

“EMERGE SCORPIUS!” He orders.

Charge taps you in the shoulder

“I think that’s about enough for recon… let’s get out of here before…”

“ATTENTION, CITIZENS OF LOS DIABLOS!!!” The booming voice catches both of you by surprise.

The disk starts emitting a large hologram over the sky for everyone to see. So that’s why they took the park first… You focus on the image as it gains focus… a woman…

It’s her. You had hoped not to see her ever again… She’s wearing a whole new costume and some sort of eye-implant, but it’s definitely her. You stumble backward into Charge, who holds you.

“Hey hey watch it!”

“It’s Regina!!” you gasp in terror.

“Wait you mean you know her?”

“HEAR MY WORDS! I AM REGIS, GRAND DIRECTOR OF THE APOCALYPSE FORCE AND THE GREATEST TECHNOLOGICAL GENIUS OF THIS PLANET! YOUR PUNY POLICE IS NO MATCH FOR MY FORCES, AND YOUR ARMIES ARE TASTING DEFEAT AS WE SPEAK! THERE ARE NONE WHO COULD OPPOSE THE APOCALYPSE FORCE IN THE ENTIRE WEST COAST! FROM THIS POINT ON, I CLAIM THIS CITY BELONGS TO ME! ALL WHO WISH TO SERVE UNDER MY RULE MIGHT STAY. EVERYONE ELSE IS COMMANDED TO EVACUATE. YOU HAVE 24 HOURS TO COMPLY! NOW LET ME GIVE YOU A SIMPLE DEMONSTRATION OF MY SUPREME POWER!” The hologram banishes, and the disc starts spinning rapidly emitting a red beam onto the Scorpion creature.

“What… the … fuck…?” he asks in disbelief. Charge shakes your shoulders “Who is she?”

You point forward, leading his gaze back onto the creature… which is dramatically increasing in size.

“Wow. That’s… big…”

It’s getting big fast. Too fast. The beam stops as the thing stands as tall as a building.

The dark Figure activates some sort of jetpack and flies up to the creature’s shoulder. “Start tearing out the nearby area, Great mutant Scorpius!”

The monster’s roar is deafening. It’s not just it’s the size that increased. And then it notices you two, staring back at it, making you feel helpless prey.

Its eyes go red, as it emits a blast your way.

“MOVE” you scream, shoving Ortega out of the way. Unfortunately, you have no time to get out of the way yourself…

The explosion projects you backward, your armor cracking and sending red alerts all over. Did you just take the hit for Ortega? You bounce several times before falling next to a small tree.

Everything hurts so much… But you’re still alive. Mortum’s design is truly amazing.

“Stand up!"

Charge’s hands pull you up putting your arm around his shoulder and help you run through the park’s pathway. You can barely see where you’re going with all the alarms going on in your HUD display. You wonder if you’ve broken something too…

"They’re closing in,” you tell him, as you get to a crossroads. Why is this fucking park so large?

“Which way?” he asks. You quickly scan the area before answering…

“Left,” you say coughing and sensing the taste of blood in your mouth. Shit, maybe you did break something. He starts another sprint with you. It’s hard to know how long will you be able to keep up the pace…

“Leave me. We’re going to get surrounded” you mutter “I’m not going to do that” he grunts walking forward… “Why did you save me?!”

“Because you’re too slow and stupid to get out of the way on your own! I told you to leave me! No way you can get out carrying me around!”

“SHUT UP!” he actually holds you tighter as you keep going forward…until the blue light from the disc fires up in front of you.

Of course. The can teleport their forces and their giant monster can obviously see you. You were never going to escape…

“Hello, Rangers” The dark figure you saw earlier advances towards you. He’s wearing a black outfit with some yellow outlines. Red goggles and hidden face.“I’m Doctor Blitz! One of the three leading scientists of the Apocalypse Force serving Grand Director Regis! I’ve been waiting for a chance to test my weapons against you!” he boasts

“Actually, I’m the only Ranger here. He’s just…” Ortega starts.

But the self-proclaimed doctor isn’t interested and just motions for his soldiers to charge. You try to strike a shaky fighting stance, while the Rat King urges you to run away.

They are about to clash, when a series of explosions go off, blasting the enemy. You turn to the side and see Steel with a smoking gun. Argent and Herald come close behind, and the three of them quickly put themselves between you and the enemy.

“More rangers!! You’ve saved me the trouble of looking for you!”

“Well, you’ve found us!” Steel says charging onto the enemy.

A melee strikes out, with more and more soldiers joining in.

Soon enough you’re struggling to fend them off taking hits all over your damaged armor. THe rangers aren’t doing much better.

Their battlesuits are military-grade and definitely more advanced than yours.

“Hahahaha! The great rangers always get their man. Don’t make me laugh!” Doctor Blitz boasts. “Feel a taste of my power!” he lets on, activating some kind of energy wave device with his palms. “TELEKINETIC DARK FORCE!” he utters.

“Wait, what?” Argent asks before she, and the rest of you are shoved away by the energy wave he emits.

You slowly attempt to get back on your feet, the rangers emitting similar pained groans around you.

They have you completely surrounded and hopelessly outnumbered.

“PAthetic! I guess I’ll let Scorpius deal with you, rangers! SCORPIUS! Vaporize them! For the Regis!” He yells raising his fist, as his soldiers do the same.

You notice the giant monster is preparing to fire it’s beam attack again…

“TAKE COVER!” Steel cries… but it’s too late…

You hide your masked face in your hands and the rat king shrieks in terror.

You’re engulfed in white light. ……………………………………………..

Familiar white light.

“Where are we?” It’s Herald’s voice.

You stumble trying to stand, but fail. The Hud Finally goes dark. You’re blind.

“Some kind of Laboratory” Mortum.

Hands… turning you over… removing your mask.

“N… no! Get off!” you mutter… but it’s too late.

Ortega takes your helm off… You can hear Mortum’s voice in the background as he runs down the stairs of his lab. “Are you alright?” he goes.

“Cyrus?!?!” Ortega asks surprised as Retribution’s mask falls to the side. They all turn onto you.

What an epic clusterfuck.

That’s your last thought before you pass out from the pain.

____________________________

My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero spoilers #super sentai au #giant monster!#fanfiction

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oohlovergirl · 6 years

Text

When Things Fall Apart PART 4 [ROGER TAYLOR x READER]

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: You and Roger fall out of love, but is it possible for you guys to fall back into love?

Word count: 1378

Contains: NERVOUS ROGER, a little bit of awkwardness

A/N: I dont really have much to say right now, so….Enjoy!! Oh also, I would love some feedback on this series/or any of my other writing pieces!

PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE

“Hey Y/N?” you turn around once again. “Would you––would you want to have some breakfast together some time?” he asks. You pause.

“Yeah––yeah, I would love to,” you say. “And Mrs. Clarkson––make sure your schedule is free next week because I’m taking you to a nice dinner––I’m being serious!” you call out, hearing her warm laughter follow you out the door and to the sidewalk.

“Such a nice girl,” Mrs. Clarkson says. Roger makes a noise of agreement as he watches you walk to your car. She raises her brows at him.

“You know, it was nice seeing you both together again,” she says carefully while grabbing his order.

“Yeah, yeah it was.”

You finally reach the breakfast spot (Roger called you the night after you saw him and set up a time and place) and park on the street across from it. Getting out of the car, you take a deep breath, smooth down your dress, and since there aren’t many people around (it’s pretty early on this Saturday morning), you immediately spot Roger’s blonde hair in front of the restaurant.

“Hey,” you say once you meet him in front of the small café. He stares at you for a beat too long, specifically staring right at your dress. You blush a little. I should’ve just went with the jeans and tee shirt, you think, mentally slapping yourself on the forehead.

Did she wear that on purpose? Roger thinks, heart going a bit faster seeing you in his favorite dress––the dress that he actually bought you when you two were dating.

“Rog, you okay?” you ask, amused, which snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Sorry love––nice to see you,” he says, giving you a peck on the cheek. You stiffen a bit––not in discomfort––more in surprise. He pulls away in surprise as well. He opens his mouth to say something but gets cut off.

“Hello, how may I help you?” the hostess asks, and the of you two are then ushered into the café.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you apologize as you’re led to the small table in the corner of the room. What you don’t tell him is the reason that you’re late: you spent an obscenely long time in the morning trying to figure out what to wear and after a couple of hours and a completely wrecked closet, you just opted to wear a floral sundress you found shoved deep in one of the shelves.

“No, it’s completely fine, I just got here a couple minutes ago myself,” he says. What he doesn’t tell you is that he in fact, did not get here a couple minutes ago. Having woken up at the crack of dawn and not being able to bear anymore of the waiting, he just left his house way too early and arrived thirty minutes before you were supposed to meet.

At first, it’s a bit awkward, trying to talk to someone whom you haven’t spoken a word to in almost three years. But as you get some food in your stomachs and the cups of teas get refilled and the cozy atmosphere makes you a little more comfortable, you two soon fall into a nice, familiar, rhythm, similar to how it was before.

And throughout the breakfast, you’re surprised that you remember his small mannerisms––the way his hands constantly move while he talks or the way he gently drums his fingers onto the table.

And you’re surprised to find out that he still remembers your little quirks as well. The way you like your tea, “Two sugars and cream, right?” he asks before hailing down the waiter to get those for you or the way he automatically sat down in the chair so that you could sit in the booth side.

Or the way he gently touches your knee under the table to stop you from bouncing it up and down. The gesture so familiar that you almost forget that this is the first time you’ve seen him since the split. Almost. You almost forget because the fact of the matter is that you two haven’t seen each other in three years. And it may seem familiar, but it still feels strange and alien as well. And it seems as if he realizes this too for the second after he places his fingers on top of your jiggling leg, he jerks his head up with a look of horror across his face.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean––I wasn’t really thinking about it––” You smile, a bit endeared by his panic.

“It’s really fine, Rog,” you say with a reassuring smile. He blushes.

Besides that little “blip”, the rest of the breakfast goes smoothly.

––––––––––

“Remember when you accidentally set off the fire alarm in the apartment, and Mrs. Nelson tried whacking you with her mop?” you ask, laughing.

“Hey! That was a serious incident––she nearly took my head off!” he says laughing along. You clutch at your sides as tears spring in your eyes. The other patrons in the small café shoot you two dirty looks, but you don’t care.

He tells you stories of his time on tour.

“There was this one night where I accidentally dyed my hair green, and I had to play the whole show with that god-awful hair!”

“You could’ve used baking soda and water! Would’ve gotten it out like that,” you say with a snap. He groans, hitting his forehead with his hand, and you giggle.

“Wish you were there––Brian practically had to push me onto the stage while Freddie and John were just watching and laughing.”

“Aww, I really miss them,” you say, clasping your hands together.

“Yeah, they miss you, too.”

––––––––––

You both end up staying at the café for way longer than you expected. Once your teas got cold and remained cold for quite a long time, the waiter walks to your table, about to kick you out for overstaying. But Roger quickly orders another pot of tea and one more chocolate croissant that you know you’ll both barely pick at. The waiter narrows his eyes but nonetheless goes to the kitchen.

“I dont think he likes us very much,” Roger whispers too loudly behind his hand. You laugh into your napkin before shushing him, and he grins.

––––––––––

“This was really fun,” you say after you finally paid and left the restaurant, “We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah! Since I just got off tour, I’ll be here for quite a bit…just let me know when you want to meet.” He checks his watch. “Oh shit, I’ve got to run, but see you soon!” he says with a hug before jogging over to his car.

“Call me!” you yell back with an exaggerated wink. You hear his booming laughter from across the street. He blows you a kiss, ridiculously puckering up his lips, before stepping into his car. People around you stare, but you don’t care. Don’t notice. And for a moment, it was as if nothing had changed. That you hadn’t broken up. That these three years haven’t happened. You chuckle to yourself and feel an unexpected fluttering in your chest. You don’t recognize the feeling though, and you simply attribute it to the sort of happiness one gets after reconnecting with an old friend.

When you get back home, you flop onto your bed, a feeling of content settles within you. You smile.

––––––––––

Roger walks into the recording studio, drumming his fingers against his thighs.

“What’s got you so happy?” Brian asks from the couch as he spins a pencil around.

“Hm?”

“Oh Rog––please don’t tell me you took that girl from a couple of nights ago home.”

“Wait what––no––I just had breakfast with Y/N.” Brian looks up from his paper, setting his pencil down.

“Y/N?”

“Yep.”

“Like Y/N Y/L/N? Like your ex-girlfriend Y/N?” he asks.

“Yes…” Brian gives him a look. “I saw her in Lily’s Bakery and invited her to have breakfast, so we could catch up…what’s wrong with that?”

“I guess nothing…but I mean, she is your ex.”

“And it’s been three years. She looked really happy when I saw her, and I can assure you that we’re both very much over it. She was my best friend and––and I kinda forgot how nice it is––talking to her.” Brian looks at him for one more second before shrugging and going back to his song lyrics. Once Freddie and John arrives, they all start working on a new song in the studio.

But while Roger’s drumming, the only thing he could think of is you. Freddie yells at him to pay attention after he messes up for the seventh time that hour. But he’s completely lost in his thoughts as he replays moments from breakfast over and over in his head, his heart warm in his chest.

Permanent taglist:

@thefirstkillerqueen @hysterical-queen-trash @clara-who @ladycataztrophe @ghost-in-love

WHEN THINGS FALL APART Taglist:

@perriwiinkle @professionofviolence @wint-er-voices @soulmates8 @borhapqueen92 @dreamer7black @ma-ntequilla @benhardyjones @discodeakyy @aylinnmaslow @yyyycykaaaaaaa @nasa-freak @majorlyextra @maem-rae @nowisours-nowisforever

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy!roger taylor #bohemian rhapsody #queen

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 years

Text

SO LATE SO SOON: fun, genre-celebrating SF for young readers (of all ages!)

[Harry Tynan posts on our forums as Moose Malloy. Earlier this week, he messaged me about his fun, self-published kid's book, written as a series of bedtime stories for his kid (a tradition I'm very fond of -- it's the origin story of The Borribles!). The book is so much fun that I invited him to write a short introduction and choose a excerpt for your edification. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did! -Cory]

The great Umberto Eco once wrote, in a marvellous essay about Casablanca, that "Two clichés make us laugh. A hundred clichés move us. For we sense dimly that the clichés are talking among themselves, and celebrating a reunion."

And hey, who doesn't love Casablanca?

I'm no Umberto Eco, but a while back I wrote a science fiction novel out of love for my son and out of love for the SF genre itself. Freed by love, I poured my heart into this short tale of a boy and his dad (plus his two accidental, argumentative clones, plus his dad's childhood dog accidentally yanked forward from the 1970s for their own, very tail-waggy reunion).

For my son's amusement, I unselfconsciously stuffed each of my quick, cliff-hanging chapters with my favourite SF clichés from a lifetime of fandom. I smushed in some 'gritty history' and some light moral lessons and some Shakespeare and some counterfactual frolics. I had huge fun bashing out 500 words nightly on an old laptop after everyone else hit the hay.

I was pretty careful with editing and general quality control. But I let the tale itself go where it wanted. When I read it over I smiled to find influences from stuff I adored -- not only Sheckley and Dick and Zelazny and Silverberg and Doctorow, but also Beverly Cleary, and Treasure Island, and Calvin and Hobbes, and 2000AD and Red Dwarf and arcade games and pop music and every other good thing we turn to for hope and light. I called it SO LATE SO SOON, after the wistful absurdism of the Dr. Seuss verse. Then I printed some copies and gifted them around. Did that a few times. Kinda forgot about it then, to be honest.

Now, I've never made any big claims for this book. For me it is, as Eco says, 'the clichés having a ball.' But it's had a joyful little half-life. Some schoolteacher here in Ireland read it in class. Kids I don't know, cousins of neighbours of my nieces or something, petitioned for a sequel. Well-meaning friends kept nagging me to publish it -- as if it were that easy!

But of course, it IS that easy to self-publish these days. And this week I finally did, on Amazon KDP. It feels great! Right now it's free, so if interested, please snag it

here

(US) or

here

(UK) or in your local Amazon region. I'll run more free days asap (KDP limits these, though).

I hope some of you like it. You could start with the extract below, wherein our protagonists use a time-freezing whistle to escape from a medieval court which alleges they're demons.

Finally... I cannot thank Cory and Boing Boing sufficiently for this -- it's a wish come true, realising a childhood dream (to write and share an entertaining story) with my dream audience (the awesome happy mutant community). Buíochas!

FORTY-FIVE

One minute later I was outside again, panting heavily, frightened and excited at the same time. The streets were filled with people stuck in fixed poses; even the horses who'd pulled us here in our cage were poised without twitching, like statues. And around everything, that strange ring of the whistle pulsed like some alien music.

No time to hang about, I told myself. We need to leave. But how? I went back inside the courthouse to assess the situation.

First, I removed the whistle from Marlowe's collar and stuck it in my pocket. No telling when I'd need that again.

Second, I took a good look at Dad, where he was suspended in time, leaning against the side of his dock. No way would I be able to carry him. But I might be able to drag him.

The sound of the whistle, still echoing, rang pure and clear in my ears as I worked.

I pushed experimentally on Ezquerra, who was blocking the steps up to Dad. He tumbled over like a skittle and landed flat on his back with a crash. Terrified someone would hear me, I looked around in a panic for somewhere to hide. But then I controlled myself. Who cared if anyone heard me? They were all frozen. And that gave me an idea. I looked around for the largest people in the room, to lie down beside Ezquerra.

Two soldiers and a judge later, I'd made a pretty soft-looking landing pad just outside Dad's dock. "Sorry, Dad," I whispered as I opened the gate at the top of the steps. He tumbled straight out and landed smack-bang across the judge's belly and a soldier's fleshy forearms. It seemed to me that the sound of the whistle was beginning to fade at this stage, and from the corner of my eye I could see hints of very slow movement amongst the crowd, so it looked like the freeze was wearing off.

That was fine. I was nearly ready anyway. But I needed to talk to Dad. I dragged him, with great difficulty, outside the courtroom door, around a corner, and down a quiet hallway with polished wooden panels and huge pictures of great battles hanging everywhere.

Then I waited.

All around me I could hear the sounds of reality restarting, like one of Dad's old records rotating at the wrong speed. Around the corner somewhere, I heard a footstep. As I watched Dad's face, he blinked. The ring of the whistle was almost completely gone now. And suddenly, time was back to normal -- moving forward at one second per second.

"Dad," I said quickly, "don't talk, let me explain. I froze time using this Silverberg whistle. Lukes B and C and Marlowe are still in the courtroom, which I imagine is going bananas right now, because you and I have just disappeared into thin air... and also, some people have been, uh, rearranged."

Dad's eyes bulged in confusion as I continued, but I put up a hand to silence him. "There's no time to lose. They'll really think we're devils now, with this kind of black magic. We need to escape. But I'm too small to carry everyone."

He nodded to show he understood. "This time, I want YOU to blow the whistle, go back in there, and carry all of us to somewhere safe. It wears off after about ten minutes, so keep blowing it till you're done. Got it?"

There were sounds of shouting and alarm all through the building now. A group of soldiers came tearing around the corner, spotted us, and charged with an almighty roar.

"Got it," said Dad. He grabbed the whistle from me, raised it to his face, and --

FORTY-SIX

Dad got us out of Lisbon. He got all of us out, all on his own.

It must have taken him hours. I woke up a couple of times, emerging woozily from the freeze-sleep, becoming aware of reality crowding in on me once more. The first time it happened, I was bent forward over a low wall, presumably where he'd left me while he went to get one of the other Lukes. There was a slow, low, grinding noise: GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG... It started to get faster and higher: GRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR... and then it suddenly disappeared as normal time resumed with a POP!

I lifted my head. I felt fine. I was near a busy marketplace. Sounds of life were audible all around me; I wasn't the only person waking up.

"Dad," I croaked. "The whistle."

I was still lying draped over that wall and couldn't even see Dad, but he must have heard me, because next thing I knew I was coming around again on the side of a dusty pathway just outside of the city.

GGGGGGGGGGGGG

GRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGRGR

POP

Luke B was lying beside me and I could see Dad, with Luke C in his arms, staggering tiredly toward us. He saw me watching him, and winked. "You okay Dad?" I asked. "I'll be fine," he answered. "The old dog for the hard road, as my mother used to say."

He'd even rescued one of the backpacks somehow. It lay on the ground beside me. Seeing me looking at it, Dad winked. "Took it from the hands of the boss bishop himself," he said. "He'll be one surprised padre when he wakes up!"

I heard a sneeze behind me and looked over to see a soldier staring in amazement. That was only to be expected. After all, as far as he knew, there'd just been some weird noises and then we had appeared out of nowhere.

"No problem," said Dad, as the soldier started shouting. He lowered Luke C gently to the ground and reached again for the whistle.

https://boingboing.net/2019/05/02/so-late-so-soon.html

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heavenlydreamerblog · 6 years

Text

In Too Deep

Chapter 12

I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas. Happy holidays to all of you and I hope you enjoy this little Xmas prezzie for underneath your tree. See you in the New Year. Love and hugs to you all xoxoxo

Check out In Too Deep on Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/user/HeavenlyDreamerBlog

Warning: Smut

I flinched, the grip on my hair tightening as he pulled me in closer.

“Aghh Jared, that hurts,” I gasped, feeling him twisting it tighter still, balling his fist into the nape of my neck. He motioned for me to stand. I steadied, easing myself up, careful not to move my head. When I straightened, his other arm grabbed me roughly by the waist, spinning me around, so my back was flattened against his chest. “Lexy, remember who’s boss here,” he whispered, his lips caressing my neck. “I thought we’d agreed that when you’re with me, you give yourself up entirely Lexy.”

His grip loosened and my hair tumbled around my shoulders. I felt his hand move slowly from the nape of my neck, along my arm, sending shivers across my body.

“Work can wait Lexy. You’re going nowhere until I say so. Understand baby girl?” He walked to the bedroom door, slowly sliding the lock into place. “Sit down.”

I was rooted to the spot, unable to speak or move, aware that I belonged to Jared in that very moment.

A movement outside shifted his attention away from me momentarily. Placing his fingers to his lips, he moved quickly, drawing back the lock.

As he stepped outside, I exhaled, unaware I’d been holding my breath.

I strained to hear what was being said: “We’re all good Jess. I’m just finessing some of those party plans with Lexy, then I’ll make sure she’s in the office by this afternoon. I’ll keep you in touch.”

I could hear Jess shouting her goodbyes and then the front door closing. My legs gave way and I sank to the bed.

I watched the door open and Jared walk back in, sliding the lock back in place. He leaned against the frame, his eyes drifting across my body, taking in every inch of me.

“Where do we begin baby girl? Where’s that voice of yours gone?”

“Jared .....” I was shaking, in no doubt that he was ready to mind fuck me. But I was in no fit state emotionally to cope after last night.

“What are you trying to say Lexy? Jared ... Jared what exactly?” He walked slowly over to the bed, sitting next to me. There was no eye contact this time. He stared straight ahead. “I know you’ve got spirit babe. I like that in a woman. It’s not quite what I’m used to but let’s see if we can control it, just tame you, break you down a little.

“It’ll be easier if we talk about what we both need from this relationship Lexy.” He cupped my chin, until our eyes met. “What do you think?”

I didn’t know what to think. I was way out of my depth. “Jared, just tell me what you want from me. I just feel I’m in too deep here. Please just spell it out for me ... please...”

He smiled and turned to face me. “I like girls who’re willing to listen and learn.” He stood up again, shoving his hand into his jogging bottoms and removing his phone. He placed it on the bedside table, putting it on silent.

I’d never felt so vulnerable. The sheet was still wrapped around my naked body, leaving very little to the imagination. I knew Jared could see how uncomfortable I was. At the same time there was also a feeling, alien to me, of wanting to give in and submit to whatever he demanded.

“Stand up Lexy. I want to see you properly.” He unclasped fingers that were holding the sheet tight to my body. “Drop it!”

I felt my cheeks blush as the sheet pooled on the floor at my feet, leaving me exposed. His eyes drifted down, taking in every curve; breasts, to hips. Jared moved closer, cupping his hands under my ass cheeks and pulling me into his bulging erection. “How does that feel Lexy?” His voice caught in his throat. “Does that make you nervous? Are you wondering what I’m going to do next?”

I bit my lip, aware of the sexual tension radiating from his body. “I’m a little scared,” I admitted, daring to look into his eyes for reassurance.

“Don’t be. We’re on this journey together remember. I won’t do anything unless we agree first; we agree boundaries and we discuss what does and doesn’t turn us on. You start Lexy.”

His eyes never left mine. “What turns you on?”

The question was uncompromising ... straight to the point. This was Jared taking charge, and very slowly I was relaxing into his dominance. Just the two of us behind a locked door, consenting adults assessing each other’s limitations and desires.

I leaned forward, placing my lips to his ear. “I like it when you take charge Jared. I’ve never been asked what I want before. Does that sound crazy?”

I was aware of him shifting, again dragging those nails, this time down the length of my spine. My skin tingled and a groan escaped as my body shivered at his touch.

“Communication is so important Lexy.” His voice was gentle now and he helped lower me on to the bed. “Before we go any further, I need to know we’re both comfortable with each other. I have certain desires and ....” he stopped to slowly remove his shirt, “I need know we can share this experience together."

This was crazy. The man was a total enigma wrapped up in a world of sexual fantasy. And at the moment I wasn’t putting up too much of a fight. I spoke at last. “You haven’t told me much Jared about what you want. I’m not asking you to spell it out in black and white .... but give me some ideas and then I’ll say yes or no.” That was bold of me. Since when had I had the courage to say ‘no’ to Mr Leto.

I watched a smile tip the corners of his lips, before he raised himself, kneeling over my body. The mattress dipped under our weight. “Give me your hands baby girl.” His voice was barley a whisper. I felt my wrists dragged upwards, pinned behind my head. “How does that feel? Are you comfortable being restrained Lexy?”

It was as if the earth was giving way and I was falling into a void. “Yes. That’s good,” I said, breathing out slowly, trying to control an ache that was running down my body.

“That’s a start baby. Every step of the way we need to communicate. I want you to have a safe word. Anytime you say that word, I promise you I’ll stop and we’ll talk about the experience.”

His grip tightened on my wrists. I could sense his strength overwhelming me. Sex might be consensual and open to discussion, but I was all too aware he was a powerful man outside of this bedroom and I had absolutely no influence over that. But I realised there was one bit of power I did have; my safe word.

I met his gaze and said: “Jared, my safe word ... it’s Shannon. If I say your brother’s name, you stop. Agreed?” My eyes locked on to his, letting him know there was no compromise.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t blink; maybe I saw a moment of confusion in his eyes, but it was fleeting. “If that’s your safe word, I’m happy.

“Now, take a deep breath Lexy.” He loosened his grip on my wrists, gently rubbing them to bring back the circulation. “Close your eyes and relax”.

I felt him move away from the bed, cool air replacing the warmth of his body. I listened, trying to work out what he was doing. My confidence was gradually returning. I opened my eyes and watched as he stepped out of his jogging bottoms, every ounce of him raw muscle and sinew.

He spun around as if he knew I was watching. I looked away, angry that he’d seen my eyes drinking in the sight of his naked form.

“Lexy, Lexy, Lexy ...” My name was whispered as he walked back to the bed, climbing on top of me. “Those eyes were supposed to be closed baby girl.”

I gave in and slowly closed them again, feeling his hand lift my head up. “We’ve done this before Lexy. I’m putting on the blindfold. Are you OK with this?”

I nodded, breathing deeply to calm myself while feeling a distant ache rising to the surface. At the same time I was plunged into a dark world, losing all sense of time and place.

“Remember that safe word Lexy.” His lips brushed against my neck, nipping my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms. He stopped suddenly. “Don’t move babe. Put your arms at your side.” I did as I was told and felt his hands grip my wrists again, pushing them down into the mattress.

In the pitch black, I was lost, my other senses heightened. I could feel his body lean into mine. The softness of his lips gave way to the razor sharpness of his teeth, biting hard into my shoulder. “Ahhhh Jared,” the words were muttered as I fought to control myself. The sudden pain after the butterfly kisses he’d peppered over my neck jolted me awake.

“Are we still safe Lexy?” I could hear concern etched into the question.

“Yes, you just took me by surprise.” The pain had sent shockwaves crashing over me.

“In that case Lexy, we’ll go to the next stage.” The biting gave way again to delicate kisses, working their way down my body. His hands left my arms and cupped my breasts together. He fell silent. That stillness was unnerving. It seemed to stretch into hours, my body rising and falling with the ebb and flow of my breath.

“Christ Jared, don’t torture me like this,” I muttered. I felt him move, his fingers circling my nipples, gentle caresses giving way to fingertip flicks sending tiny jolts of pain to my core. I felt a whimper rise up my throat, my nipples sensitive and an overwhelming ache pulsated through my pussy.

I turned my head into the pillow, not wanting him to see the tear sliding down my cheek. The intensity was too hard to handle but I wasn’t ready to use that safe word yet.

“Babe are you OK? Look at me Lexy.” He moved my face from the pillow. Please God, I hoped that tear was still buried beneath the blindfold. I couldn’t look at him but I knew he was watching me, judging how able I was to carry on.

“Jared I’m OK,” I said, trying to reassure him. “I will use the safe word if I need to. I promise.” This was the ultimate test. How far would, or could, I allow myself to be taken on this journey.

His lips touched mine. “Good girl.” His breath was warm and I opened my mouth, inviting him to go one stage further. His tongue traced over the edges of my bottom lip, then probed deeper, our lips crashing together.

The sensation just increased my need to feel him inside me. I groaned, aware of his erection flattened against my stomach. He was moving back and forth, pleasuring himself, growing harder as he moved faster against my smooth skin.

“Shit Lexy,” he pulled away before slowly moving his fingers down to my slick folds and opening me up.

Not being able to see, only to feel, was an unnerving sensation, thrilling and terrifying all rolled into one. All I wanted at this very moment was to feel him inside of me. I groaned as he circled my hole, slowly dipping first one finger and then another inside, teasing me, stroking me, watching my body twitch and my muscles tighten.

“Remember the rules baby girl.” His soft voice penetrated my brain’s sexual fog. “You only cum when I say so OK?. You must fight that orgasm every step of the way. No giving in Lexy. Stay strong.”

With that, I felt his fingers thrust violently inside me. I screamed but not the safe word. I was well within my sexual limits, my body pushing hard against his fingers, wanting and demanding more.

“That feels so good baby. Stay in the moment Lexy.” I felt his fingers slip from inside me. No, no, no please don’t stop, I thought, the ache intensifying again. But he wasn’t stopping. His breathing was shallow and then I heard a click and a faint buzz.

“Open your legs wider babe.” His hands pushed them apart, one moving under my ass and pulling me closer to him. “Are you ready for this Lexy?”

I was lost to him. I felt the buzz of the vibrator rub gently over my clit, back and forth, rocking me ever closer to the forbidden orgasm. Every part of me was fighting the urge to give in, my muscles tightening and relaxing.

“Jared, I’m struggling here,” I said, my voice catching in my throat as the sensation intensified again. But I could tell he wasn’t listening. Instead of checking in, he moved the vibrator back towards my puckered hole. The buzzing, vibrating shocks were pushing my limitations. I could feel fear snowballing in the pit of my stomach, wondering where Jared was leading me. He circled the hole and teased it again before shoving the vibrator hard into my pussy, slamming into my G spot.

“No!” the scream escaped my lips, as I fought a losing the battle. “Jared, please I can’t fight this any longer. Please help me,” I murmured.

I felt his wet fingers trace their way up my body and into my hair, pulling the mask away. My eyes took a while to adjust. Before they did, I felt the hardness of his cock thrust into me, the steady rhythm building on top of the unbearable ache of before.

I looked up and his eyes were closed. I could tell he was lost to the moment. “Please let’s cum Jared. Don’t make me beg. I can’t hold on.” His face was relaxed, zoned out almost, lost in the intensity of the moment.

He gradually lowered himself down, pinning me beneath his hips, slowly grinding out that steady rhythm again, no rushing, keeping me teetering on a cliff edge.

“Take another deep breath Lexy,” he whispered. I inhaled deeply just in time. His hand moved up and covered my mouth, pressing down hard. I gasped but there was no breath. The steady rhythm of our lovemaking instead gave way to violent thrusts, his hips rising and falling as he plunged himself deep inside me.

I could feel my vision blurring through lack of oxygen. My body caved in and the orgasm came crashing down, building up through my thighs, tightening my stomach walls and then flowing out in waves through my body. The scream seemed to come from a place deep inside me.

He released the pressure on my mouth, thrusting harder, chasing his own climax and forcing my body into a second orgasm. Suddenly I felt his body tense and his muscles tighten. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, squeezing him hard until I heard a deep groan escape his lips. “Fuuuck baby.” His body tensed again before relaxing. His cock pulsed slowly inside me before he pulled out and removed the condom.

“Fuck Lexy. I don’t think you know just how beautiful you are.” Those baby blue eyes closed as he rested his head on my shoulder. His breaths deepened as he traced his damp fingers across my stomach.

“I’m proud of you, you know.” He leaned over to look me in the eyes before muttering: “You didn’t even have to shout out my brother’s name.”

He smirked as he reached for his phone. “Now that would have been quite a shock babe.”

I lay by his side, taking time to work through the past hours, needing time to order my thoughts.

Jared was busy tapping away on the keypad. I could see work had taken over again, but no surprise there.

I moved to plant a kiss on his lips. He turned his head away. “One minute Lexy. Just one minute.” He continued texting.

“What’s up,” I asked, trying to look over his shoulder.

“Not now!” He batted me away.

“OK.” I unlocked the bedroom door and walked off to the bathroom, returning moments later to find Jared fully clothed.

I paused. “OK. I’ll ask you one more time. What’s up?” There’s nothing worse than a man abandoning you so soon after sex like we’d just experienced.

“Is it me?” I sounded needy and I hated myself for that.

“No,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “It would never be you. It’s Shannon. Sounds like he had a rough night and I’m about to pick up the pieces.”

He kissed me gently on the lips. “That was wonderful babe..” He pulled me closer, wrapping me tightly into his body. “You’re mine Lexy. Look at me.”

I raised my chin and smiled. “Jared, go and sort out your brother, he needs you.” I reached behind me and unclasped his hands.

“OK. And you, young lady ...” he breathed deeply, running his fingers over my skin: “Shower and get to the office ... because I think Jess needs you.”

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