#I like. popped my back like a maraca just a moment ago and got this idea

[yorshie]

Has this been done before? Idk late night thoughts after I accidently popped my back like a glow stick.

Leonardo

Is low key horrified when you stand up from the couch after watching a movie and you stretch and pop your back not once, not twice, but a total of five times before you relax. Even if he’s managed to school his facial features, there’s fear in those blue eyes. It makes his spine itch where it’s connected to his carapace. If your cuddling with him and your back makes that god awful noise, he might just flinch since he wasn’t expecting it.

Raphael

Raphael loves how flexible you are, could watch you twist and bend your spine and limbs for hours if you’d let him. You’ve got a wider range of motion than he does, and it fascinates him. Unfortunately, the first time your back pops, he will retch if he recognizes the sound. Don’t do it on purpose, he will eye you like you’re about to fall apart if he hears the sound coming from your spine

Donatello

Is actually the calmest about hearing your back pop. He knows it’s a release of tension and pressure, your bones flexing at the end of their tendons. He’s likely to just sit and watch you, fascinated despite the way it makes his own shell itch. He might ask you questions about how it feels or if it hurts, if it feels the same as your other limbs popping. Might get you started on a supplementary oil if he notices you pop a lot of joints.

Michelangelo

Mikey calls you his little drum kit after hearing your back let out a particularity loud pop. He thinks it’s funny, watching Raph and Leo try and fail to hide how it freaks them out. He might even try to pop his own back, enlisting Donnie’s or Raph’s help to pick him up and shake him. Neither does. If you catch him off guard he will shiver uncomfortably at the sound though.

If for some reason you want to be completely evil, the next time Casey comes down to the lair ask him to pick you up and pop your back. He will be banned for the foreseeable future. You will be in big time turtle trouble. But their faces might actually be worth it

[sodalitefully]

20 for the au thing?

#20 on the list is a Sluff-y genie AU!  I wrote a couple paragraphs like a year ago and then abandoned it, so thank you for giving me an excuse to come back and give it some attention!

Duff finds an abandoned guitar case outside a bar, it’s late and there’s no one around so he figures he’ll take it home with him and come back tomorrow to see if anyone is missing it.  Or just keep it, depending on how he’s feeling.  

Based on the weight there’s not a guitar inside, but Duff still tries to open it when he gets home – only to find that it’s locked.  Disappointed that he won’t get to satisfy his curiosity, he shakes the case to see if anything rattles around inside.  

Hm.  Well, it sounded completely empty… Duff bends over to put the case back down, but when the case touches the ground it jumps and the lid pops open on its own accord; Duff drops the case, launches himself backward and screams like a little girl.  

The lid is only open a few inches, and Duff can’t make out anything in the shadowed interior beyond the fuzzy red lining at the rim of the case.  That is, until a ghostly-looking face appears in the opening and Duff screams a second time.  It’s like something out of a wacky horror move; either Duff is going crazy or he’s about to die – possibly both.

“What the fuck was that all about?!” A voice floats from the case, pissed as hell.  Duff blinks and suddenly the face is about a foot in front of his own, surrounded by a mane of curly black hair that seemed to be rebelling against gravity, and attached to a body heavily laden with gold and silver jewelry, both hands planted angrily on his hips.  

Scratch that, half a body – Duff does a double take and realizes that the stranger isn’t actually taller than him, because he has no legs.  Below the black bandana tied around his waist, a plume of gray smoke trails back to the guitar case, swirling aimlessly in lazy curlicues.  

“Seriously, how would you fuckin’ like it if I stuffed you in a guitar case and shook it like a maraca? Because that can be arranged, motherfucker!"

“Who are you a-and what do you want?!"

The man/ghost/whatever backs off and sighs.  “Right, right, he doesn’t know anything…” he mutters to himself.  “Call me Slash.  I’m a genie, that is my guitar case, and I owe you three wishes."

“A genie?"

“Yep."

“… Like in Aladdin?"

“Exactly! Bless that movie, it used to be so much harder to explain things to people."

“So like, I rub the case, you appear and grant my wishes?"

“Rubbing would have been preferable to shaking the everliving fuck out of me, but yeah, something like that.”  The genie is obviously still unimpressed with Duff.  “So what’s it going to be, man?"

“What, do I have to use all my wishes right now?"

“Technically, no, there’s no time limit.  But you wouldn’t believe how many people decide to save their wishes and then end up wasting them when they make a rhetorical wish without thinking.  Or the case gets stolen, or they die in a car crash, you can’t predict these things!  Trust me, I’ve been doing this for a long time and I’m not about to sit around and wait for you to find the perfect moment to use your wishes because 9 times out of 10, it’ll never come."

To say Duff is overwhelmed would be the understatement of the century.  Slash drops into the only chair in Duff’s apartment, a shabby recliner he picked up on the side of the road, and steeples his fingers.

“Here’s how it’s going to go:  You tell me what it is you really want in life, and I’ll tell you how I’m going to make it happen for you. And don’t say the word ‘wish’ until you’re absolutely sure you know what you’re asking for.”  He stares at Duff expectantly.  

“Fuck, okay, uh…” Duff was always more of a go-getter than a wishful thinker, he has no idea what the hell to do with three wishes.  “Well, I’m flat broke and that kinda sucks.  And my guitar got repossessed last week, so –"

Slash gasps and leans toward Duff with wide eyes.  “Wait.  You play?"

“Yeah, well, before I lost it anyway… I’m better at bass though, I still have that one thank god."

Slash’s demeanor changes completely, he’s literally glowing with excitement, with his curls bouncing and a delighted grin on his face.  “Forget the guitar, Duff!  I’m going to make you a star!"

“A – A star?"

Slash waves his hand and in an instant Duff is holding his bass, dressed in skin-tight leather pants with cowboy boots and a massive belt, shirtless with a pin-studded vest, rings on his fingers and a red scarf around his head.  “On the house, sweetheart, there’s more where that came from!  Are you in a band yet? No problem, we’ll find you one – only the best!  Now, come on, show me what I’m working with here.”  The lights dim and a spotlight shines on Duff out of nowhere, mimicking a club stage.  Slash folds his hands under his chin and smiles at Duff expectantly.  

His enthusiasm is contagious; Duff can't even begin keep up with all the craziness of the past fifteen minutes but he also can’t help returning the smile.  He pounds out a few well-known riffs, and a bit of something he’s been working on.  When he stops, Slash applauds and toasts Duff with a beer bottle that mysteriously manifested in his hand.

“You’re incredible, Duff, this is going to be the most fun I’ve had in a century!  How about this, tomorrow we take a look around the scene,  scope out potential band members, sound good?  Then once we figure out a plan, we can really get started with the wishes."

“You’re really serious? You can get me into a successful band?”  It was too good to be true, good bands didn’t just happen, they needed chemistry and inspiration, and a fanbase and record deals… It seemed like too much for just three wishes.

Slash scoffed.  “Can I?  Duff, in two months I’ll have you headlining the Whiskey, guaranteed.  In two years, it’ll be the Memorial Coliseum.”

(Disney’s Aladdin came out in 1992 but shh.  Requests are still open, more info here!)

[askjrd-blog]

QUEEN DESERVES ROCK'S ROYAL CROWN?

by Rosy Horid

Circus Magazine 19 January 1978

Freddie Mercury and Brian May Hawk their ‘News Of The World’

Freddie Mercury is no longer the leader of Queen. Has he been fired, you ask, or is he off to pursue a solo career? No it’s simply, with the advent of News Of The World LP (Asylum) the personality of the music and of Brian May, drummer Roger Taylor and bassist John Deacon have come across more strongly than ever before.

Those who have seen them on the recent US tour notice more than ever before that they’re a group comprised of four separate identities, not just a lead singer and background band. Freddie Mercury is delighted to hear it.

‘I’ve never considered myself the leader anyway,’ says irrepressible Freddie. ‘The most important person, perhaps.’ And guitarist May agrees.

‘Our separate identities do come to the fore on this album, on which every cut is completely different from the one before it and there’s no concept at all. Apart from each having contributed two tracks to the album, Roger and John have been much more involved in the playing. Roger plays rhythm guitar on some of his cuts (‘Sheer Heart Attack’ and ‘Fight From The Inside’) which makes sense, because he had a better idea of how he wanted it to go. John plays acoustic guitar on one of his as well (‘Who Needs You’). I played maracas on it. While we may not do it that way on stage, in the studio that makes more sense.’

Brian also does a lot more singing of his own songs on News, but he’s content to let Freddie do the singing on stage.

‘He’s a natural performer,’ asserts Brian. ‘He acts on stage as if he was born doing it. That’s great for us. We wouldn’t want it any other way.’

As May and Mercury emphasize, it’s not just musically that shifts occur in the group.

‘John keeps a very close eye on our business affairs,’ says Freddie. ‘He knows everything that’s going on and shouldn’t be going on. If God forsakes us now the rest of the group won’t do anything unless John says it’s all right.

‘Roger is very important to us in a different way. He’s always been an out-and-out rock & roll fan with no time to stop and think about music and that’s very good for us. Instinct. He’s also the one who is most aware of facets in music, and that’s essential in the band. If you listen to ‘Sheer Heart Attack’ on the new album you’ll see what we mean. It sounds like a punk, or ‘new wave’ song, but it was written at the same time of the Sheer Heart Attack LP. He played it to us then but it wasn’t quite finished and he didn’t have time to complete it before we started recording. That was three years ago and now. . .almost all these records you hear are like that period.’ And Roger now? ‘He was into punk for a long time, but he’s tired of it.’ More about the album later.

But if you still don’t believe no crown of ladership rests on the mercurial head of Freddie, it’s worth repeating his comment about the composition of the group.

‘If anyone left Queen, anyone of the four, that would be the end of Queen. We are four equal, interwoven parts. And the others just couldn’t function the same without each quarter.’

Queen have just finished a special tour of the states. Not the longest they’ve ever undertaken, by any means, but special nevertheless.

‘It was the first tour we’ve ever done without the support band,’ Freddie explained. ‘There was so much going on on stage that I doubt there would have been room for another band anyway. We have so much material we want to play for people now that it would have been far too long a concert. It’s hard enough anyway to know what to leave out: we’d like to play all the new material, but there are some things we just would not dare leave out or I think the fans would lynch us.’

It was the sort of tour most rock bands dream of doing. Brian agrees: ‘We’ve managed to get some of the most sought after halls there are, even though the tour was short. Most of them are places we’ve played before. In some cities we had to settle for second, alternative choice auditoriums – the thing was set up so fast. It was also a very compressed tour – 35 dates in six weeks. We did very large halls because we wanted to do a fuller show and our rig was about twice as big as ever we used before.

‘It provided a complete stage environment, with an extension stage, three trailers and enormous lighting gimmick not just for New York and Los Angeles. That’s why we booked big halls, so that we could give everybody the complete show. We first used our crown centerpiece at London’s Earl’s Court concert over the Jubilee. At the time, we didn’t envisage being able to take the crown on tour with us, but we managed to have it demounted into a portable object. And so we had it for all the gigs. It made the most ambitious backdrop we’ve ever attempted, but it was worth it. The fans seemed to enjoy it and they are what matter.’

That last remark of Brian’s is typical of the group’s attitude towards their fans, for they have one of the closest rapports with the fans of any in the business. The same cannot be said for their relationship to the music press, however, especially in Britain. In fact, many people thought the chart-popping single ‘We Are The Champions,’ was Queen’s way of telling the press in no uncertain terms that they’ve made it without them. Others thought it an arrogant statement about their rock supremacy. But how do they feel? First Freddie, who wrote the song:

‘Certainly it’s a relationship that could be, but I was thinking about football when I wrote it. I wanted a participation song, something that the fans could latch on to. It was aimed at the masses; I thought we’d see how they took it. It worked a treat. When we performed it at a private concert in London, the fans actually broke into a football chant between numbers. Of course, I’ve given it more theatrical subtlety than an ordinary football chant. You know me.

‘I certainly wasn’t thinking about the press when I wrote it. I never think about the British music press these days. It was really meant to be offered the musicians the same as the fans.

‘I suppose it could also be construed as my version of ‘I Did It My Way.’ We have made it, and it certainly wasn’t easy. No bed of roses as the song says. And it’s still not easy.’

Brian concurs, ‘You know, songs aren’t always about what the words say. Messages in songs can appear different. I always see that as the difference between prose and poetry. Prose can mean exactly what it says, while poetry can mean the opposite. That goes for this song. Freddie’s stuff is often tongue-in-cheek anyway, as you know. This song is very theatrical. Freddie is very close to his art. You could say, he’s married to his music, whether it’s ‘I Did It My Way’ or his ‘There’s No Business Like Show Business.’ I must say, when he first played it for us in the studio we all fell on the floor with laughter. So many people in the press hate us because we’ve side-stepped them and got where we have without them.

‘But there’s no way the song says anything against our audiences. When the song says ‘we,’ it means ‘us and the fans.’ When we did that special concert, the fans were wonderful. They understood it so well. I know it sounds corny, but it brought tears to our eyes.’

Freddie and Brian are unanimous on that: the spontaneous responses to ‘We Are The Champions’ really move them. But that is the kind of general response News Of The World has received because, as Brian may says, ‘It’s a spontaneous album. I think we’ve managed to cut through to the spontaneity lacking in our other albums. I have no apologies to make for any of our previous albums. We’re proud of them and wouldn’t have let them out if we weren’t. But I now feel some may have been over-produced, so we wanted to go with a more spontaneous rock & roll based album. It was nice to do something that didn’t need such intensity. For example, with ‘Sleeping On The Sidewalk’ we did it in one take because it just seemed right the first time. We like to think of the album as a window on an unguarded moment, not a set piece. Each cut seems to do that, from the participation songs to Freddie’s mood pieces. Even his numbers on the album are different, from his heavy ‘Get Down, Make Love’ to ‘My Melancholy Blues,’ which is just what it says.’

Brian admits that his own material is different too. But he still tries to keep his private life separate and out of his songs as much as possible.

‘If you don’t keep something back, it can be very bad for you.’

But for the band both the album and the tour are in the past and they have to look at the future. They got back to England on Christmas Eve.

‘My mother would have killed me if I wasn’t home for Christmas. I haven’t missed one yet,’ says Freddie. And the others felt the same.

It’s time for some stock-taking. We’ve all become businessmen,’ admits Freddie, ‘even though it’s against our better judgment. It’s something that always happens if you get successful. Being a musician is not just cutting discs, unfortunately. I wish it was. We’ve all got companies now, some connected to music, others not. I’m producing Peter Straker, I have my car company. . . and lots of other fingers in other pies. We must take some time off to get things in perspective, or things will start to go wrong.

‘Then there’s been talk of doing a big world tour – Britain, South America, Japan, and of course the States as well as lots of other places. But that won’t be until later in the year.’

So, American fans will have a chance to see Queen in 1978.

‘You must tell them not to be too greedy, thought,’ warns Freddie. They’ve already seen more of us than any other country.’

And what about a message for the American fans, Freddie?

‘They know we love them. Apart from that, oh, say something outrageous for me.’*

[erinelezabeth920]

Days 17-18: - Quito

Day 17:

It was Saturday. It was a tired day. I woke up late. I hadn’t slept in since god knows when. Not too late though because that damn equator sun shines right through my window. I went down around 8am and had breakfast with Monica; she thought I was going to Quilotoa today instead of the day before. My Spanish was probably off. I was hoping she would do my laundry today because it was beyond tragically low (hadn’t been washed since the hospital, since I arrived to Quito). She said something that the lines were all full (air dry clothing after hand washing), and she would do it tomorrow. Damn. After breakfast I went upstairs and diddled around until 10:30am. At 10:30 I headed out the door wearing shorts and a T-shirt (still held out hopes for laundry, maybe…). It was bright and sunny out. I wrapped my scarf around my shoulders. I tried out a different bus route to the Spanish school which sent me the completely wrong direction, so I just grabbed a taxi instead. I waited out on the steps for a few minutes until Kat showed up. Star showed up directly after; we sat on the steps and chatted, trying to ignore the gazes of the men at the barber shop next door. Soon a younger woman showed up, who we figured out was our tour guide. Michela, either a friend or daughter or something of one of the Spanish teachers was a local college student who was studying history and tourism. She wanted to practice giving tours, so the teachers asked if any of us were interested. It seemed like a nice way to spend a Saturday.

Mike and Ana arrived a few minutes later, and we set off. Kayla was getting her hair done, and Erin was at home mourning the loss of her phone (it had gotten stolen on the metro, just after we had said goodbye from margaritas after Quilotoa). We headed on the crowded metro to the historical district. It was honestly beautiful. We had been there before, but it was basically the first day and I was so out of it I don’t remember much. The day was perfect, sunny and not too hot. Michela told us about the history of the buildings, the Spanish conquistadors, and showed us the statue in the Plaza de Independencia when Ecuador become its own country. We went into the public library, and into some breathtakingly amazing churches of which I have no photos because it’s not allowed. With Spanish colonial architecture, narrow streets, churches and historic buildings, Quito was actually the first city in the world to be named a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

I had thought that Michela would speak in English, but she didn’t know it well enough she said, so spoke Spanish. I missed some things, but it was good practice and I asked Mike and Ana to translate a lot. She spoke of politics, the Spanish influence, and Incan relics. There is so much depth and history to this place that I can’t begin to scratch the surface. I stood on the roof of the old library, surveying the city.

People were out everywhere. Tourists and locals alike. The historic center has old buildings, colonial style and cobble streets with vendors selling ice cream, fruit and empanadas. We had lunch at an almuerzo place (3$). After lunch, Kat and Mike headed out. Ana, Star and I opted to stay to visit the Museo del Ciudad. Michela had to head out, but set us up with a tour guide (also in Spanish) for 3$. It was honestly one of the best experiences I’ve had here. The museum was beautifully laid out in an old building where each room explained a historical period of time in Quito. From the geography, to indigenous people, where they lived, what they ate, how they moved from hunter gather to society, the overtake of the Incan Empire (which only lasted 40 years who knew?!) to the first Spanish conquistadors, mass massacre of the indigenous people (what else is new), colonial period, independence, and finally modernization (also didn’t know Ecuador only adopted the American dollar 10 years ago, to avoid inflation and the total shit that is happening to Venezuela right now). Anyway, two extremely informative hours, listening in Spanish. How completely American, that I can live in a place and know nothing about it. After the museum Ana, Star and I bought street churros and they were amazing.

After that I went home. I was tired. I napped for an hour then went to meet Kayla, Erin and Star for dinner at a pasta place in Plaza Foch. Erin was in better spirits. It’s just mentally and emotionally draining to feel constantly unsafe. But dinner was nice. I was exhausted but hung out with Erin and Kayla for a little- we looked for a place to dance in Plaza Foch, but it was too early and everyone was hustling us trying to get us to come in for a drink. I got annoyed and was going to slap the next guy that walked up to me with a menu, so we took a taxi up to the gay bar where Mike and the others were meeting. After another annoying conversation with the bartender about cover charge, we paid the stupid 10$ went in and danced for a little. I’m getting familiar with all the popular latino songs. (Erin already knows them by heart.) It was a typical gay club, flashing lights and music and men who can dance. Mike, Jojo, Ana and Mayra showed up shortly after. I danced with them for a bit; Erin, Mike and Jojo were in their element. I was tired though, just overstimulated from a lot of people in small spaces with smoke and bodies, which is essentially all the public transportation is in Quito, so I said goodbye around 11:45 and caught a cab home.

The cab driver didn’t have his meter on. He told me 5$. I told him absolutely not, 3$. He said no, 4$. I was pissed the whole ride home and gave him 3.50$

Day 18:

Sunday was just wonderful. It was a bright, sunny morning. I ate breakfast with Monica and Hernando. We sat and talked for a long time; I told them how I was an outdoor guide back home and showed them pictures, of the mountains in Washington, the mountain goats, the cherry blossoms. I brought down my laundry (finally). Monica asked if I wanted to go to the market, but I told her I was meeting friends to watch the world cup game.

Heading outside, the city was dead. I don’t know if it’s the Catholicism, the World Cup, or both, but everything felt quiet. The streets were empty and people were biking happily where usually cars are zooming and honking. The first bus I took was playing the game on the radio. When I got off at the park, a street vendor was listening on a portable radio. I took the second bus up toward the clinic and got off to find the bar we were meeting at. The streets were empty, just occasional cars and bikes. The day was absolutely beautiful. I met Erin and Kayla outside, and we walked in to a happy, popping bar. I ordered a mojito and Venezuelan mozzarella sticks. It was a fun atmosphere.

After the game we (the 8 of us) walked to Parque Carolina, a big park nearby. We went to the botanical gardens, and wandered around for a few hours looking at the different plants, flowers and ponds. After that we found a nice grassy space in the park to plop. We read, took naps and took turns watching stuff so people could go buy food. The park was extremely busy, almost like an amusement park with a little river of paddle boats, food vendors everywhere, and a little sketchy looking ferris wheel. Families were playing, happy. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the energy felt different. More carefree. Probably the Catholicism. Day of rest. At one point a family with a guitar and a harp came right next to us and played. It was wonderful. The little boy kept running away with the maracas.

After the market, I stopped for pasta and a glass of wine. It was okay but overpriced. I had bought a 2$ teenage vampire novel in Spanish off the street and tried to translate it. I got through one page. After that, I headed home. I had tea and bread with Monica, Primo, Pablito, Anai, and Hernando. It was nice. After that I headed to bed.

I don’t know how to explain it, but it was a special day, weekend really because I wasn’t jetting off somewhere in search of adventures. Sunday especially felt, well NORMAL. Waking up late, chatting with the family over breakfast, meeting friends to watch the game, hanging out in the park. That’s what typical Sundays are. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it was a marker, an accomplishment of sorts in the most tranquil of ways. We were past the point of two week, of the adrenaline of a vacation, and were just, for a brief quiet moment, living. In Quito.

It’s kind of a beautiful thought.