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mithranqueersmusings · 4 years

Text

Before This Dance Is Through V

Chapter: 5/16

Rating: M (Smut Warning)

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.

One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.

"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.

"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.

He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.

youre gonna love me

The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.

do i not already?

well yes but youre gonna love me EVEN more

what have you done

well i happened to stop by the club last night

oh god what did you do

wow is that how little you trust me

can you blame me

suppose not ANYWAY i got talking to paulie

surprise surprise

do you want the good news or not???

fine fine sorry

AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account

first of all fuck you for calling him that second of all wtf is onlyfans

oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century

...... care to grace me with your knowledge?

basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him

but i have to pay?

well weve all gotta make a living

i can basically see him naked for free

but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed well you will but nobody will know at least so do you want the link or not???

Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.

fine

where are your manners richard??

can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please

alright calm down let me know if its worth while i might have a look

idk if im even gonna look at it paying for porn is a little dated

treat yourself ringo id offer to pay but im broke

if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?

well SOMEONE had to go

they really didnt

im supporting my local economy

i dont think thats how that works

sure it is anyway here you go

Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.

Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.

Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.

howd the wank go??

john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird

youre right sorry so how did it go???

if you must know i havent had a wank i havent even paid for entry

now whos the one being inappropriate??

ha ha

why havent you???

feels weird

oh i see youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money

you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn

hey now watch yourself ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL

go ahead

and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them

every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that

im not joking

neither am i you wank A LOT

ringooooo just buy it i swear to god if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back

on top of the money you already owe me?

have you always been such a capitalist

youre not doing a very good job of convincing me

fine spikes cock now are you convinced???

maybe

naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month convinced??

fine fine if itll shut you up

im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'

i hate you

now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right' anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at even i wont stand in the way of a good wank so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man

im older than you

DONT BOTHER REPLYING

Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.

So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?

This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.

"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.

There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.

One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.

He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.

Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.

This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.

Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.

When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.

sooo how did the wank go

who knows but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower

well before you do that i have even more good news

can it not wait?

NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower

well arent you considerate and unnecessarily graphic

thats me anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not

im still waiting for the good news

well if youd let me FINISH next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go youll never guess what it is

what is it?

guess

you just said ill never guess

youre no fun

WHAT IS IT

alright alright keep your hair on its a crossdressing event high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff

im still waiting for the good news

OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on

Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.

#the beatles #beatles #beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfic #beatles fanfiction #george harrison/ringo starr #ringo starr/george harrison #ringo starrxgeorge harrison #george harrisonxringo starr #starrison

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fernandoswarcrimes · 5 years

Text

Ego Season: The Reckoning

Josettè made the 14 hour plane ride from Everett Washington to Detroit Michigan. She hated flying Her original 9 hour flightier turned into 14, having 2 layovers. Which didn't help her mood much.

Breaking ground with hockey and playing with the boys was finally starting to pay off much to her mothers displeasure who just wished her daughter had followed her footsteps and joined the cheer team like she had back in the day. She thought hockey was too dangerous for her daughter especially with her playing on the guys team since they had different rules than the girls. Her father on the other hand was ecstatic. He had played hockey when he was younger and since they didn't have a son, he was over the moon when Josettè had made her interest in playing the sport very clear.

Despite people telling her girls don't play on a boys team her dad was the only one who was fully supportive of her and her choices besides the coaches who had seen her great potential, despite all the judgement and criticism. She proved everyone wrong. Joined her highschool boys hockey team they all loved her like a sister and always stuck up for her not that she really needed them too she could put most guys flat on their ass when she needed too. And after finishing highschool early excelling in her studies despite being a foreign exchange student who took her studies just as seriously as she did hockey. She had somehow found herself a spot on the Everett Silvertips those boys like her highschool team were like family and brothers to her, before she earned herself a one way ticket to the USNTDP boy's team.

To which she had a feeling some of the guys weren't gonna be happy but let's face it, A guys ego gets hurt when they're shown up by a girl in most anything, but especially sports. Sports that they play. She had been informed that she was staying with a boy on the team named Cole Caufield, which from her dad giving her a run down on it, didn't seem too bad he seemed like a sweet kid atleast she wasn't gonna be stuck with an arrogant dickhead. That was the last thing she needed to deal with was staying with some arrogant kid while she was trying to focus on hockey. They would probably end up trying to kill eachother but that's beside the point luckily that wasn’t happening.

As the Urber pulled up in front of what she was told was the Caufield residence Josettè was a bit nervous and scared to say the least meeting new people was always a challenge for her even though she easily always made friends with her teamamates, on the other hand people outside of the team she was on was always hard. Being labeled as the "bad girl" she was seen as a hardass who could do whatever she wanted but was a bitch about it yet that was anything but a front. She never asked to be labeled that way. But it was too late and a waste of time to try and change things she only let certain people see the real her.

Deep down she was sweet as a button loved playing with little kids or walking her dog in the park, she'd always look out for her friends and put them before herself as long as everyone was happy. But when people constantly tear you down it tends to change a person, and not for the better. So she hid that part of her away behind a ice cold front.Josettè cautiously stepped out of the backseat looking up at the house before grabbing her suitcases and hockey bag from the trunk of the SUV noticing a blonde woman and a older man step out of the house with wide smiles on their faces to greet her as she walked up the driveway with her bags with a small shy smile.

"Hi honey! Oh it's so nice to finally meet you! I'm Kelly and this is Paul we're so glad to have you here. Cole is currently out with the boys but should be home sometime before dinner he's excited to meet you too. His older brother Brock is off at college. But I'm sure youll meet him sometime in the future, why don't you come in and get settled I'll show you to your room, Paul honey can you grab some of her bags please" Kelly asked with a smile wrapping an arm around Jossettè, she got a warm homey feeling from the two and she was glad that she'd be staying with them any old sense of being scared was now washed away as Kelly led her up the stairs to the guest room so she could get settled in.

She gently set her hockey bag by the wall so it s was out of the way as Paul laid her suitcases on the bed "we're gonna have dinner here in a little bit but we'll leave you to get settled and unpacked come join us whenever you feel ready" Kelly said with a warm smile before her and Paul left the room to leave Josettè to unpack and get comfortable.

A little while later after she had unpacked she made her way downstairs to the kitchen to help Kelly with dinner. Just as they were both chatting away getting to know each other while cooking she heard the front door open and an abundance of voices move into the house she assumed it was Cole and his friends getting back from wherever they were before she arrived. She seen the shortest one of the group make his way into the kitchen with a bright wide smile that could honestly bring a smile to anyone's face it was contagious, as his friends trailed behind him she knew who they were she had looked up the roster to get somewhat of a name to face familiarity. "Hi! You must be Jossettè I'm Cole mom told me you were coming, sorry I wasn't home earlier but these are my friends and teammates Jack, Alex, Spencer, and Trevor." He said introducing the other four boys.

She nodded with a smile and a small wave "nice to meet you guys." Kelly looked over to her stiring the pasta sauce "hey Jos honey do you mind watching the stove while I go check the laundry?" Josettè nodded motioning her to go "I don't mind do what you need to do everything will be fine here" she said as Kelly left the kitchen. She had turned to stir the pasta noodles before turning back to the five boys who were just quietly staring at her not saying a word it was honestly a little creepy. She narrowed her eyes a little bit she didn't like being stared at unless she was playing hockey and that was it "did you guys need something?"

That seemed to snap them out of whatever trance they were in. "We've seen some of your hockey stuff from when you played in Everett on the silvertips you're really good." Cole said speaking up with a shy embarrassed smile that they had got caught staring. She heard a scoff "Yeah. For a girl Cole, that's not saying much." She heard the one with the longer hair who looked like a fuckboy mutter, It was none other than Trevor Zegras.

Jossettè smiled leaning on the counter crossing her arms not letting the comment bother her one bit, she had heard much worse from guys like him before but appreciated Cole's kindness none the less "thank you Cole, but I guess you will have to see first hand tomororw then yeah? You might just eat your words."

She said almost tauntingly looking at Trevor with the smallest hint of a smirk before turning back to the stove "now, if you boys aren't going to help with dinner please get out of the kitchen." She said glancing over her shoulder to look at them Jack and Alex were the first to dip out of the kitchen with a smile and a wave with a promise of getting to know her later, having enough manners to know when a lady asks you to get out of the kitchen you do it no questions asked.

Next was Spencer glancing at his other two friends left in the kitchen before giving her a friendly smile following after the other two. She could tell he was a bit shy and quiet. Cole nodded after Spencer left "I'll go see where my mom went maybe she got side tracked again she tends to do that sometimes." He said looking from the food to Josettè smiling before leaving the kitchen to find his mom.

The only one who had yet to leave the kitchen was Trevor. He was looking her over trying to figure her out, he didn't really understand the comment of they'd have to see tomorrow and he might have to eat his words because him and the boys had practice tomorrow and she was a girl and wasn't on the team. He could see through her innocent act though, he had used that himself too many times to get what he wanted and to get people wrapped around his finger when he needed them to be, to be able to see it on other people.

"You don't fool me Jossettè, I see right through that facade of innocence. I'd watch your back. It'd be a shame to expose you for who you really are. A..cold hearted bitch." He said with a smirk crossing his arms, She just shrugged stirring the sauce not even glancing back at him, he wouldn't get that satisfaction. She wasn't bothered by the threat.

"All my life boys like you have sneered at me for the stupidest reasons because they feel threatened. But all my life I've been knocking guys just like you into the dust. So cupcake it's really you who should watch your back understood yeah? Because zegras I would hate to hit you where it really hurts. Now scram." She said finally glancing over her shoulder giving him a dismissive once over.

He looked at her a bit shocked but quickly covered it up with a scowl no girl had ever spoken to him like that and frankly he didn't really know what to do he was used to being in control. "This is gonna be a nightmare having to constantly be around you all the time now that you're staying here with Cole and his family." He huffed walking out of the kitchen with a scowl she had successfully gotten under his skin, something she was always good at doing at the best times it always kept her one step ahead instead of two steps back.

"You bet it is Zegras...you bet it is." She said with a smirk as Kelly came back into the kitchen to help finish with making dinner the two falling right back into a comfortable conversation like the "conversation" with Trevor never even happened.

Josettè was already forming a plan in her mind, she'd seen guys like Trevor back in Everett while she was on the hockey team, sure there were a few nice boys like Carter she'd only been on the team for a year and a half before he moved up to the Flyers, he truly was the only true friend she had best friend at that. Cole had the same energy and niceness that Carter had, but most of them had the ego and arrogance like Trevor and she knew just what she had to do, she had to play his game and no matter what, she was going to win.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x oc #trevor zegras imagine #ntdp imagine #usa ntdp #egoseason #first chapter #an i oop #EgoSeasonSeries

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daydreamdearest · 5 years

Text

a very biased review of “revolver”

hello! my name is dream. i have a lot of opinions and today im gonna review the album revolver by the beatles

*this review is VERY opinionated. all of these songs are amazing and much better than anything i will ever make. take this review with a grain of salt, as i am not a musical expert nor am i smart. i just like being a bitch

and without further ado,

Taxman: 7/10

- Fun and interesting percussions sounds

- Not a huge fan of the harmonies

- AMAZING guitar from george, big love

- slightly repetitive chorus

- cant say much on this one its not my favorite song but it has a thumbs up from me

Eleanor Rigby; 9/10

- BEAUTIFUL orchestra, i have a soft spot for violins

- Amazing lyrics,, the really make you think and get emotional

- great vocals from paul, we stan heavily appreciate

- quite a short song, i wish there was more. the story i still conveyed through the time but its only 2 minutes

- a hard bop, its popular for a good reason

Im Only Sleeping: 8/10

- Johns voice sounds kind of weird in this song ngl but i love it,, it works

- HI I LOVE THE LYRICS AND tHe CHORUS HARMONIES

- sometimes youll hear random twanges on the guitar and thats some GROOVY SHIT YALL

- i love the fake out ending and the true ending of the song, especially that sharp note john hits like i just fall apart,, and the distorted guitar MM

Love You To: 6/10

- not a huge sitar fan especially since it drags on in the beginning

- george harrison sings this one and its choice

- at the chorus the instruments can get so intense that you cant hear the lyrics clearly at some points

- that being said this instrumental is HOT AS FUCK, especially when theres sitar, bongos and electric guitar,, its sick as fuck

- the lyrics are kind of weak and george’s singing is a bit bland especially since i know he can HIT some notes and sound good

- this sort of just sounds like sitar eargsmic shit for george

- the tempo change towards the end is a lil funky at first but it works

Here, There and Everywhere: 9/10

- just so we’re clear, paul wrote this in bed with john while john was still sleeping so i dont wanna be biased that being said

- i love the lullaby sound of this song

- pauls vocals are doing it for me

- these lyrics are really cute its so nice

- the snapping is sort of weird and sometimes blips in and out but its still a nice touch

- i just,,, it makes me sob

Yellow Submarine: 5/10

- this song is overhyped

- i love ringo’s vocals and i dont think anyone else couldve done this song as well as he did, but that being said, i still dont like this song as much

- i love the drums, theyre lovely, as they always are

- the random sound effects fuck me up. the weird bells and clinking and just. ??? sounds. like a telephone and random screams ?

- the chorus is nice, even though its repetive

- at a random point in the song, somEboDy screams “HOT POTATO” and that really takes me out of the mood

- when ringo is singing someone is just SCREAMING THE LYRICS right after he does at a certain point

- this song had potential to be amazing but certain parts really fuck with it

She Said She Said: 6/10

- i like the instrumentals but theres a strange, loud bell song in the right headphone that really hurts me while i listen

- i like the lyrics. theyre good

- more vocals from john, we always love that

- certain parts can be a bit w a c k y but in general its a good song. not much to say on it

Good Day Sunshine: 9/10

- THIS IS SUCH A SWEET POSITIVE SONG

- paul is singing and its wonderful

- THE PIANO IN THIS SONG IS SO AMAZING ITS BROADWAY-ESQUE LIKE FUCK ME UPP

- ringos drumming is real good in this one

- i love the lyrics i just imagine paul skipping down the road singing this to whoever he passes by

- again,, a real short but good song

And Your Bird Can Sing; 7/10

- very moptop reminant song with a few hints of their experimentation

- its nice, i dont hAte it

- i love the guitar in this one, its very nice and reminds me of roll over beethoven

- the lyrics are good. just whatever, yknow

For No One: 7/10

- its a paul song i so automatically love it

- fr though his younger voice is so unique and pretty i love it

- the lyrics are lukewarm, they arent really standing out to me

- the brass in this song is really nice, i love brass instruments in songs

- the instrumental is nice, sometimes the key shift can sound vv nice

- put this one in your granny music playlist

Doctor Robert; 6/10

- ngl when i first heard this song i skipped it

- johns voice is nice but sometimes it goes up weirdly and is,,, mm not great

- lyrics are lukewarm, i dont mind

- paul comes in the chorus and does his “OhhH yEaHh” voice and thats always a positive

- its got a funky instrumental

- its a short song but its low so i dont really mind lmAo

I Want To Tell You: 6/10

- i like the instrumental, although it can sound a bit plain

- lyrics are, again, lukewarm.

- it has a nice beat, i can see why someone would like this song

- i dont have much to say on this song, not much really stood out to me except the contrast in the bridge. potatoe potæto.

Got To Get You Into My Life: 7/10

- this is the kind of song that when it starts playing i get up and dance, the beat is very contagious

- a paul song where im not that crazy about the singing EXCEPT FOR THE CHORUS !! HE DOES THE “oHh yEaHh” voiCe its wonderful

- drumming is wonderful, love u ringo <3

-lukewarm lyrics,, its fine. listen to it and dancr around to it bc its catchy

Tomorrow Never Knows; 5/10

- more fuckin sitar eargasmic noises from george

- you know this was a george song bc of the indian instruments. they sound fiNe its just a bit strange juxtaposition after a song like got to get you into my life

- johns voice is fine in this one, i do harp on him for being nasally even though my voice sounds like i have a cold

- i feel like someone had a whole gallon of pot before they decided to mix this song

Average Score: 7/10

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #george harrison #beatles #revolver #album review #album #music #beatles album

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angrylizardjacket · 6 years

Text

and then there was light [3] {Roger Taylor}

Anon asked: Prompt: angst Roger and y/n because he’s jealous after a party

A/N: 5981 words!! What?! Like, it’s not explicit, but I might have given the reader a slight praise kink. Some sexual content. There is mentions of cheating, just to let you know if that makes you uncomfortable. There might be a problem with pacing but like... suspend your disbelief. Also.... you’ve got a big storm coming.

[part 1] [part 2]

Your grip is white-knuckled on the armrest as you felt the plane rumble beneath you; anxiety is clutching at your chest as the world falls away beneath the wings of the machine and you’re rising into the sky. Roger isn’t outright laughing from where he’s sitting next to you, but it looks like he wants to. Thankfully, for his sake, he contains himself, resting a hand on your thigh, rubbing it in a gentle, comforting rhythm.

“You’ll be fine, love, these things hardly ever crash, and if this one does, it’ll make the news, probably.” He shrugged, and you glared at him, trying to push down the anxiety curling in your stomach.

“You’re the single least reassuring person I’ve ever met.” You snapped, but he just grinned wider, his hand moving higher on your thigh, your legs part just a little, out of instinct, and you’re too anxious about the flight to even blush at it.

“I could distract you instead.” He offers, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. Something eases in your chest and you relax your grip on the armrest to put your hand on his. “Love?” He asks, watching how you’re leaning your head back against the headrest, eyes closed, like you were trying to go to your happy place, wishing you weren’t trapped inside this plane. His hand twitches to move away when he doesn’t get a response, but then your own hand is guiding his a little further up, and you’re wearing a little, playful smile, though it’s strained. Roger has to bite back a laugh.

“Could you please wait until the seat belt sign is off?” John’s voice interrupts both of you, pressing his face into the space between your headrests where he’s sitting behind you, sounding characteristically exasperated.

“Or wait until we land, like any decent human being.” You can hear Brian’s sigh from where he’s sitting beside John, his words followed by a world-weary sigh.

“You were both cuter when you thought we didn’t know.” Freddie says, matter-of-factly, and Paul hums in agreement, the two of them sitting in the two seats in front of you.

“So were you.” Roger snaps back, leaning back into his chair, sullen at the sudden onslaught of bullying from his band-mates. “And get your bloody face away from mine.” He smacks John’s forehead with his free hand, which has the man retreating, but you’re silently thankful. Despite this, you’re also flushing with embarrassment, which is only quelled when Roger flips his hand over on your thigh to lace his fingers with yours, giving your hand a comforting squeeze.

It’s weird, to be in public, well, sort of public, and to be allowed to actually be with Roger. You’ve always been so hyper aware of his image, careful to keep your distance where prying eyes might be lurking, the last-performance kiss notwithstanding, but here, in the relative safety of first class - and god, that was a mind-boggling realisation - he’d wrapped his arm around you. Once the seat-belt sign has been turned off and the in-flight movie has started, he pulls you into his lap on the luxuriously spacious seat. Everyone on the flight has headphones to listen along to the movie, and the plane is almost silent as everyone looks to the overhead screens. It starts innocently enough, except sitting on Roger isn’t exactly comfortable; he’s got one hand resting on your thigh, innocent enough, and the other on the armrest, but you find yourself shifting every few minutes trying to get comfortable, but it isn’t really working.

“Are you right there?” Roger moves your headphones off of one of your ears, speaking low and quiet, only to you. When you look at him, he’s not even looking you in the eyes, he’s looking at your lips, and you feel your chest tighten, though in a very different way to the plane taking off earlier.

“What?” And you shift again, trying in vain to get more comfortable before you feel him hard and pressing against your ass through his pants, and it dawns on you. After a moment, you lock eyes with him, finally, and wiggle again, deliberate, suppressing a smile. He leans in to kiss you, rough, insistent, his hand on your thigh moving dangerously higher.

“Let’s not ruin everyone’s movie,” he breathes as he pulls back, his hand moving to give your ass a light tap, and you take the hint, taking off your headphones and making a beeline for the bathroom. You find yourself waiting for almost five minutes in the stall before there’s a knock at the door and Roger’s whispering your name. You haven’t even fully locked the door before he’s pulling off your shirt, murmuring about how you both had to be quiet, though he was grinning in that way that made you melt, and made you want to be anything but quiet.

When you head back to your seats none of the others comment on it, though they do seem pretty enraptured with the movie. Your anxiety at flying had dissolved; you’re feeling all warm and syrupy in the afterglow, and Roger clicks down the armrest that separates your two seats, and shifts so that you he can still wrap his arm around you, but you’re sitting next to him, your legs stretched out and arching over his. He puts his own headphones back on, smile supremely satisfied, and you give yourself a little, mental pat on the back, but don’t bother with your own headphones, resting your head on his shoulder and falling asleep, feeling secure and safe with his arm around you.

When you land, you find yourself whisked almost directly to the new tour bus, and you suddenly find yourself filled with a new uncertainty. The space, at least compared to what you were used to, was lavish, not a single road case in sight.

“You guys live like this?” You crowed, eyes wide as you raced through the spacious vehicle, plopping yourself down on the cushioned bench beneath the back window while the rest of the band, and the crew travelling in this bus started getting settled in.

“Well yeah, was the other bus really that different?” Roger asks, joining you, sprawling himself out across the seat. The sheer absurdity of his question takes a moment to sink in, but after that you’re laughing, loud and a little bit uncontrollable, mind alight with memories of hot, bump afternoons riding along at the back of the equipment bus, sat atop a road case, holding a light and gels and trying not to touch the drum kit where it was stacked up beside you.

“God, I would have killed for a cushion.” You breathe, wistful, relaxing further, if it were possible, into the seats. After a beat, you look around at where everyone’s gone quiet; Freddie and John were setting up a board game and Brian was lounging on one of the sofas running along the inside of the bus; you’re pretty sure Roger’s the only one who hears you anyways. “I much prefer it to flying though,” you admit, shifting until you can rest your head on Roger’s shoulder.

“Really?” He asked, voice quiet enough that only you could hear it. “I thought it was a pretty decent flight.” And he reaches up to pinch at your side playfully when the bus starts up. The two of you dissolve into play-fighting, which the others don’t pay much attention to, entertaining themselves as the trip to the first destination began.

“You’re- you- they call you Spotlight, don’t they?” The voice that greets you before for the first crew meeting is bright, eager, faintly accented, and when you turn, you see it belongs to a sweet looking boy with big, brown eyes, clutching at a clipboard. Laughing a little awkwardly, you nod, and his whole face brightens at the confirmation. “I’m Robbie; I’m stage managing, and they’ve got me operating the lights.” He sounds so damn excited, it’s a little endearing, and after a beat, he’s peppering you with questions about the American leg of the tour, which you answer with ease.

You’d been worried, not that you’d ever admit it, integrating into a whole new crew; the American tour was staffed with people you’d been working with for years, and here, everything and everyone was new to you. Seeing Robbie smile, so kind and welcoming, it felt like you could breathe.

“How the crew?” Roger asks, and he’s stuck with fond deja vu, sitting behind his drums, watching you cut a whole new set of gels. You’re humming something he can’t quite pick, but you seem happy enough.

“Yeah good,” you concede, only half paying attention as you work, “they’re nice, very welcoming.” You tell him, and he makes his way to you, sitting beside you on the drum risers, picking up some scraps of the gel. After a moment, your hands still, and you watch his, smiling with confusion, before looking at him. “What-” but he’s looking back at you, and he leans in to kiss you once you look up. Putting the gel and the scissors down, you take his face in his hands, giving him an endearing smile.

“I’m working.” You said softly, but he just grinned, leaning in to kiss you again. It’s fun and easy to be with Roger at times like this, times when neither of you had to worry about what other people thought, or who saw you together; you were happy and so was he, and that’s what mattered.

It gets a bit harder, you realise, when in Glasgow you’re leaving the hotel with the band and a few paparazzi come after you; at first they’re shouting at the band but then they spot you where you’re by Roger’s side, trying to keep your face hidden. You see your picture in some gossip rag the next day when Robbie gives it to you with a long suffering and apologetic look.

“The boss wants you to be more careful about being seen.” He’s rolling his eyes at the boss’s words, however, when you ask him what he means, you learn that you’d been photographed with them in America, and people were starting to speculate that you might be part of the tour group. The Boss thinks it reflects poorly. The rest of the band is in the photo, but you’re the one being accused of being a world-travelling gold digger in the article.

When you tell Roger, or more specifically show him the article and make an offhand comment about not really being seen with the band in public anymore, he throws the magazine across the hotel room, scowling.

“They’re printing lies, Spotlight, what do you care?” He asks. You’re gentle when you step towards him, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“I care about my career and my reputation, Roger, you understand, right?” Voice soft, you don’t move until he looks at you, expression a little hurt. “I know I’m not a gold digger, but if I want to get anywhere in life, I need other people to believe that too.” You explained, and he didn’t exactly seem happy about it.

“You’re fantastic at your job, babe, isn’t that enough?” He asked, and you felt yourself flush, suppressing a grin at the praise.

“I wish it was.” You told him, voice a little forlorn, and he leaned in to kiss you, a silent agreement to your request. After a moment you pulled back, actually letting yourself grin. “You think I’m good at my job?” You asked, giggling, and Roger’s expression brightened as he huffed out a laugh.

“You know I do.” And it’s the most gentle you think you’ve ever heard him, the sweet sincerity shifts as his hands come up to rest on your hips. He knows all too well the effect he has on you when he compliments your work. “How many times do I have to tell you?” He asks, a single eyebrow raised, teasing edge to his tone.

“I mean, if you told me too much I think we both know I’d never get anything done.” And your fingers are nimbly undoing his fly. With a cheeky grin, he kisses you again, rougher, biting at your bottom lip before you pull away.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He muses, watching the way you wet your lips, smiling at him. “You’re very good at other things too, love.”

“I know.” You watch him through your lashes, biting your lip to keep from laughing as his whole face lights up and he’s snorting out a laugh at your response, and you fall to your knees, already pulling down the waistband of his jeans.

He doesn’t like that you insist on leaving the hotel at different times, becomes a little clingy in the mornings when you go to get up, but he always manages to tug you back down to him, and you get lost in the way he smiles in the early morning sunlight, the feel of his lips on yours, the way he laughs softly against your skin.

Despite this, he keeps his distance around other people. The band he doesn’t worry about, but he stays up by his drums during lunch, and sometimes during the after parties you attend, he’ll disappear for a few hours at a time, and you find him at the bar, reasonably hammered, surrounded by fans fawning over him. He always goes home with you though, so you try not to feel too jealous.

“Hey, Light? I’m getting lunch, do you want anything?” Things start going downhill the day Robbie pops his head in during your lunch break; you’re at the top of a ladder, fiddling with the angle of a parcan, and Roger’s at his drums.

“No thanks.” You call back, chipper, shooting the ASM a smile, and when he leaves, Roger frowns at you.

“Did he give your nickname a nickname?” He punctuates it with a laugh, but it sounds more angry than anything else.

“That’s Robbie,” your explanation does not seem to placate him. You’d been spending a lot of time with Robbie, the two of you bonding over both having worked on Bowie’s last tour. “He’s German.” You add, as if the fun fact might warm Roger to him.

“I know how to pick accents.” He snapped back at you, and you actually stopped your work to look at him, a little shocked and defensive at his tone. He’s not looking at you, he’s gone back to watching the door.

“He’s the ASM, Rog, chill out, we work together.” You tell him. He doesn’t respond, and all you can do is go back to your work, a squirming discomfort making itself known in your chest.

He disappears after the show that night, not coming to find you after bump out like he usually would, and you try to assume the best; that he’s too high from adrenaline and the endorphins of such a good show that he’d wanted to ride the hype the rest of the band. It wasn’t deliberate, you told yourself.

“You going to the after party?” Robbie asks carefully, hands in his pockets, still wearing his own theatre blacks. You realise you must look a little lost, and when you decide that you are, you tell him, and he offers to walk with him. He’s sweet, excitedly gushing about how he can’t wait for the Munich show so he could see his girlfriend, and you find yourself enthusing about how exciting it is to be travelling around Europe. Once you step foot in the pub, the two of you part ways, Robbie heading for the bar, and you seeking your own boyfriend.

His whole face lights up when he sees you, and the anxiety that had been building in your chest dissipates when he wraps his arms around you, spinning you around.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up.” He told you, but he doesn’t kiss you, just pulls you down to the sofa with him where Freddie’s in the middle of an animated discussion with Brian.

It happens again at the next stop, he leaves you behind and you make your way to the after party talking with Robbie. He’s kind, sweet, looking forward to marrying his high school sweetheart. If you’re being honest, it’s nice to have someone to talk to who understands your side of touring, being another interchangeable face to the talent you’re helping, someone down to earth and . He gushes about how jealous he is of your friendship with the band, starry eyed in the cool night air.

Again, when you arrive at the venue, Roger’s already there, and he doesn’t get up this time, just beckons you to him with a bright smile. It doesn’t ease your discomfort like you hoped his smile would.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask gently one night; the two of you were walking in relative silence, side by side, not touching for fear of paparazzi, you try to justify.

“No, why?” He asked, and you look at him, eyes narrowed as you examine him, and his smile is a little far away when he looks back at you. After a long moment of silence, he takes your hand, pulling you both to a stop, facing each other. He wraps his arms around you, still giving you that far away smile, and he kisses you. “I’m sorry I keep leaving you behind, love.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” You confirm, stepping back and taking his hand, continuing to walk.

“Of course not; should I be?” And the way he says it, so perfectly fucking harmless, has the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

“No!” You defend, and he’s laughing easily in the moonlight.

It keeps happening, sporadically, and it always seems to coincide with whenever he sees you and Robbie together, or Robbie comes in to offer to get you lunch, and you know what’s happening before you dare to admit it.

On some of the nights where you opt to go straight back to the hotel, you’re woken by him flopping into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him, warm and protective, at odds with the discomfort in your chest.

“Missed you.” He yawns, smelling of alcohol and cigarettes, and one time, of faint, fruity perfume that you don’t recognise. When you ask him, he says that someone spilled a cocktail on him, and you realise you can’t even tell if he’s lying or not.

“You jealous?” And you can hear the sleepy smirk in his words, and your own tired mind is unguarded, unfiltered.

“A little.” You whisper into the silence of the hotel room. He doesn’t answer you, but his grip on you tightens, and he hums, the meaning of which you can’t decipher. It takes you a long while to get to sleep after that.

It comes to a head a few weeks later, however, the night they perform in Paris.

“I miss her so much.” Robbie bemoaned you as the two of you walked together, his arm tucked into yours as he waxed poetic about his now-fiance. “She sent me a care package and I swear I almost cried in front of the sound operator.”

“Why?” You laughed, and Robbie groaned.

“I opened it in the bio box because I picked it up from the front desk on my way here, like right after checking in.” By the time you get to the after party, the music is already blaring, and like always, you split up to go your respective ways. Roger greets you warmly, making room for you on the sofa he was sprawled on, wrapping an arm around you as he continued his conversation with a starry-eyed groupie, who didn’t even acknowledge your presence. You make conversation with John, who’s hovering near the arm of the sofa, bopping along to the music, looking a little bit longingly at the dance floor.

Roger goes to get a drink a little while later, smiling and asking if you’d like anything, and as soon as he’s gone, Robbie, now quite plastered, pours himself into the empty seat.

“I called her- Spotlight, I miss her so much - and she told me she loves me and she can’t wait until I get home; should I walk back to Germany? I wanna see her.” He asked, words blurring together a little from his accent and his inebriated state, and he rests his head on your shoulder.

“This is Robbie; he misses his fiance.” You explain to a confused looking Freddie, who’s expression melts into one of adoration, and he ‘aww’s at that. Robbie is starry-eyed for a long moment, before he turns to you.

“Should I walk to Munich? I miss her.” He reiterates, and you burst out laughing, petting his head fondly.

“No, don’t walk to Munich, you should go home, we’ve got a big day tomorrow.” You tell him, and he groans, clearly not having received the answer he wanted. Instead, you get to your feet and offer him your hand. “I’ll walk you back, we’re staying at the same hotel.”

You find Roger at the bar with one of your arms around Robbie’s shoulders where he’s pretty much legless, the lightweight. There’s a muscle jumping in Roger’s jaw when he sees you, and you hesitate, giving him a confused look.

“Hey, I’m just going to take Robbie back to his room, okay? I’m probably going to bed after.” You tell him. He doesn’t smile, just offers you the drink he got you and blinks slowly when you wave it away. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You ask gently, hoping to get a response from him, but he’s just giving Robbie a sour, calculating look. Robbie is transfixed by the lights behind the bar and does not notice.

When you finally get Robbie into bed, much later than you would have thought since he insisted on stopping at everything that caught his interest, and taking five minutes of standing still and explaining how beautiful his fiance’s eyes were, he’s still wearing his shoes. Once under the covers, he grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes, suddenly serious.

“You’re good. You’re a good sort, Spotlight.” He tells you, his accent coming in just a little thicker with his sincerity, and he pets your hands, before abruptly turning away from you and pulling the blankets up to his nose, clearly tapping out for the night.

The room you shared with Roger was just a few floors up, and you’re in the elevator when you realise you’d left your keys in your room. You usually did, you always went back with Roger, so you usually didn’t need them. When you approach the door, you think you hear murmuring from the other side, but it could have been from across the hall, you don’t think about it too much as you knock. There’s a giggled ‘shhh’ from the other side of the door that’s less easy to play off, but you’re tired enough to think it’s just mostly-asleep Roger. You knock again, but no-one replies. It’s too late to knock too much, and you know he’s a deep sleeper, so with a heavy, tired heart, you make your way down the hall.

“What do you want?” Paul’s frowning at you when he opens the door, wearing his blue pyjamas, squinting at you.

“Keys to the bus please, I need somewhere to sleep, Roger’s not answering.” You tell him, and punctuate it with a yawn. After a beat more of watching you, as if assessing your motives, he disappears back into his room and reappears with the keys.

“Don’t lose them.” He warned, before closing the door on you.

The sofa in the bus is long enough that you can spread out, and you find someone’s fur coat to use as a blanket. It’s comfortable enough, a little cold, and it’s only when you hear a banging on the door and feel the sunlight on your face the next morning that you get up.

Opening the door, you see Roger standing there, looking up at you, waiting for entrance. Moving back to your makeshift bed, you take a seat, giving him a confused smile.

“I... didn’t think you’d actually be here.” He already sounds like he’s in a mood, bitter, but a little bit hesitant.

“Of course I stayed here, I knocked but you didn’t answer- what was up with that?” You asked, punctuating it with a yawn, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. He watched for a moment before he slid his sunglasses down his nose to glare at you over them.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, voice a little hoarse and scratchy, moving from hesitant to just quietly angry, the venom in his words hurting like a physical slap, and you sat up straighter.

“I’m-” And you’re searching for the words, but none come to mind.

“Why are you still on this bus?” He explains in a hiss. After a beat, he slides his glasses back up his nose, and turns to look away from you, a clear dismissal.

You’re at a loss as to how to explain that you’re here because... well, you’re always here, it’s where you were now. He’s the one who’d brought you here.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who wanted me here.” Standing your ground, you don’t dare let your voice betray how confused and hurt you were feeling.

“Yeah, well now I don’t.” He snapped. His words hit you squarely in the chest, and he leaves you in your shocked, dazed silence, moving to the back of the bus. “Fuck off back to the equipment bus, since you prefer it so much better.” He snarled, and that’s what unfroze you.

“Christ, I don’t get paid enough to deal with whatever this is and ride in that bus, so that’s a resounding ‘no thanks’. And more importantly; what the fuck has gotten into you?” Emotion comes crashing back into you, rage tearing through you like a tidal wave, and you turn on him, jaw clenched.

“’Whatever this is’” he snorted, low and bitter, “yeah, but you get paid enough to fuck that little, brown-haired cockhead?” He asked, and your eyes went wide.

“Who? Robbie?” You asked, voice dangerously calm. “You think I’m fucking Robbie? Our assistant stage manager? Who just proposed to his girlfriend at our stop in Munich? That brown-haired cockhead?” You snarled, advancing on Roger like a predator cornering her prey, bitter tension gathering across your skin.

“Was he the one crying on your shoulder last night at the after party?” Roger raised an eyebrow, but the sting had left his words. Narrowing your eyes, you confirm with a single, venomous ‘yes’. “Oh.”

“Is that why you locked me out last night? You thought I was-”

“I was angry, okay?” He cut you off, sitting down at the back of the bus, and though his tone is angry, his demeanour, the way he’s avoiding your gaze and fiddling, it’s... almost guilty. In that moment, it was as if you’d been splashed with cold water, an icy realisation slithering down your spine.

“What does that mean?” Voice level, you try not to jump to conclusions, but your heart is already sinking. He doesn’t answer. When he turns away, you see a hickey on his collar that wasn’t there yesterday. “Roger, what did you do?” You asked, and the hurt was already bleeding through into your words.

“I was... I was so fucking angry.” It’s not a real answer, it’s not even a real excuse. The way he says it, jaw clenched, heart in his throat, he’s all but bleeding guilt, too proud to ask for forgiveness.

“Bullshit.” Your can feel tears welling in your eyes and threatening to spill, but your hands are shaking with anger, hurt, betrayal, and you don’t even care. “You’ve been weird for weeks, you were just looking for the first out you could get.”

“Y/N.” He stands, reaches out to grab your shoulder, but you step back, out of his reach.

“No.” Your voice is firm, but your lip is quivering. “I don’t want you to ever touch me again,” wrapping your arms across your chest, looking at his outstretched hand with disdain through your tears. “Being angry isn’t an excuse. Jumping to conclusions isn’t an excuse. I get that it must be fun fucking around with the girl who makes you work for it by your standards, but,” shaking your head, you sniffle, holding yourself a little tighter with one hand, you wipe away your tears with the other, “the moment you have to work, have to put in a little bit of fucking trust? You couldn’t even do that.”

“Spotlight, please-”

“I’m in fucking Europe for you, Roger! What in your fucking, dumbass mind thinks that I’m someone who travels halfway across the world with someone just to cheat on them?” You’re yelling now, grateful to be alone and worrying that others would join you at any minute. You didn’t want them seeing you like this.

“For me? You’re here for work! I’m opening doors for you in the industry that you’d never have opened yourself!” And he knows even as he’s saying it that it’s the wrong thing to say, but he’s too furious at himself, lashing out at the only person he could. He watches as your expression turns shocked, before shattering, and you start bawling your eyes out, holding your face in your hands. Regret floods through him, but as he steps forwards to comfort you, you yell for him to fuck off.

“I can’t- I can’t leave can I? If I leave the tour, they’ll think the tabloid are right, that I’m some dumb groupie.” And you turn, distraught, and curl up on the sofa along the inside of the bus, still bawling, loud and ugly, great heaving sobs wracking your body as you realise the full extent of what had happened, and what it would mean for you. “You’ve ruined my fucking career.”

“That’s a bit of an overstatement.” He can’t even bring himself to apologise, sitting back against the window of the bus, watching as you curl yourself into a ball, the only sound filling the silence being your sobbing. It hurts, his heart is fucking aching, but he couldn’t admit it. When you raised your head to look at him, your eyes red rimmed and lip trembling, he feels only a white hot guilt fill him from the inside out.

“You don’t get it, this industry is about who you know, and if all I am is some girl who Roger Taylor fucked, flew across the world, and got bored with, it doesn’t matter how good at my job I am, I’ll just be another groupie with aspirations.” And you bury your face in your hands again.

“We could... pretend like nothing happened, until the end of the tour.” He offers, quietly, the weakest hail mary pass you’d ever heard, and you roll your eyes at him.

“I’d rather have my dignity, thanks.” You spat, taking in a deep shaking breath as you finally sat up, wiping fruitlessly at your eyes as tears continued to flow, though you tried to pull yourself together.

“You’re not under contract, you can leave if you want.” And it might literally be last on the list of things you’d wanted to hear at that moment.

“I get it, Roger, you don’t want me around.” You snap, standing. “You are who you are; I was stupid to think you were better than that.” You sniffled. When you turn and leave, he’s silent, replaying your words over and over again in his head until he’s absolutely livid at what he’s done.

When the rest of the band returns almost a full half an hour later, he’s trashed the entirety of the bus, even going to far as to rip up the cushioning on the bench beneath the back window.

“So you’ve heard the news I take it.” Brian looks at the scene before them, voice and demeanour both surprisingly nonchalant, and Roger, breathing heavily amid the carnage, gives him a sharp look. “Spotlight’s heading home, something’s come up with her family.” He explains. Behind him, John’s already started picking up a fractured mug, and Freddie is just frowning at Roger.

“Yeah?” Is all Roger says, snatching up the cushions from where he’d thrown them, and flopping himself onto the back bench, facing away from them all.

“She’s just talking to the production manager if you’d like to say goodbye.” Freddie offers, carefully neutral, and Roger suspects he knows something’s up with the story.

“She doesn’t want to see me.” He huffed sulkily, and the others lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. They can tell it’s a touchy subject but they don’t pry. They don’t hear from you, don’t even know how to contact you if they had been able to, instead they watch Roger pick up different girls night after night, trash hotel rooms, and grow shorter when interacting with the crew, especially the assistant stage manager.

“I am who I am.” Is all he says, lips around a cigarette where he’s chain smoking in the empty theatre at lunch when Freddie finds him and finally asks what’s wrong. Freddie wants to ask what happened, wants to ask why you really left, but he knows Roger well enough to figure most of it out. Roger’s a ticking time bomb nowadays, so he doesn’t pry.

The band doesn’t talk about you, not when paparazzi and reports yell out asking where you are, not to the crew, they barely talk about you to each other, and they never talk about you around Roger.

The bus is quieter now.

Roger’s louder now.

There’s an ache in his chest that won’t go away, that he’s filling with meaningless sex and too much booze because he can’t stand waking up alone, and he still thinks about what you said, and the way you had smiled at him before it all went to shit. He remembers how you’d risked your life for a light beneath his drums, and sometimes at breakfast he finds himself thinking about how you’d thrown a plate of food in his face before you were even real friends, and he wants to yell, to scream, because how could he be so fucking stupid? You’d seen him for who he was, and chose to be with him despite it, you thought he could be better than his reputation, but he’d just managed to prove he wasn’t.

It hits him when he’s got his hands on some girl whose name he doesn’t know that all he can think about is you, and he hates himself when he leans into the fantasy, not that the other girl notices. He’d rather fuck around than admit he’d developed feelings for you, and so he does, and pretends like he doesn’t miss your sleepy, morning grin, or the casual way the two of you would chat as you were rigging the spotlights for the band.

The day he finds out they’ve replaced you, the kid they’ve got is at the top of the ladder during lunch when he walks in, and he’s hit with such a sense of deja vu that he stops in his tracks.

“I was told this is the best time for me to get work done.” Her voice, thank god she sounds nothing like you, is hesitant, with none of the calm confidence you exuded at the top of the ladder.

“It’s none of my fucking business.” Roger snaps, and turns on his heel and leaves, pretending like it hadn’t felt like he’d just seen a ghost. He gets another drink.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #bohemian rhapsody imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #and then there was light #queen #queen imagine #content #the angry lizard writes

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fruit-teeth · 5 years

Text

Dumpster Diving (part 10)

Dee curled her little hand into a fist while she sucked away on her new pacifier, and Sniper couldn’t help but smile down at her.

“Do you like it, Dee?” He rubbed her cheek gently. “Sure was nice of Angelica to get that for you, huh?”

Dee only babbled and stretched her arms in response, and Sniper mused aloud, “I wonder when you’re finally gonna talk,”

She stared to squirm and make unhappy sounds, so Sniper laid her in her playpen and turned the TV on.

Sniper heard the sounds of footsteps heading towards the doorway, and he assumed it was Scout at first, so he began, “There’s a baseball game on if you wanted to watch that,”

“Thanks, but I’m not too interested in baseball right now,” a familiar, feminine voice behind him replied, and Sniper turned around in surprise.

Miss Pauling entered, and she stopped, surveying the scene before her. Her eyes landed on Dee in the playpen, and she turned back to Sniper.

“So,” she took a breath, resting her hands in her dress pockets. “When were you planning on telling me about this?”

Sniper fell silent. A knot of worry formed in his gut, and he swallowed. “I...I...I thought Engie was going to tell you,”

“Well, he didn’t,” Miss Pauling answered. “I had to find out from Scout, after I asked him what his mother was doing on the base. He said she was acting as a baby sitter for your child,” she looked back at Dee in the playpen, eyeing her with slight confusion. “I didn’t even realize you were seeing anyone. Is the mother around?”

Sniper let this question process, and then he quickly clarified, “Oh, no, she’s not mine. I mean...she is, but not blood-related. I found her, she’d been abandoned,”

Pauling just nodded. “Ah, I see,” she sat on the couch beside Sniper, crossing one leg over the other. “Can you tell me what you did after you found her? Did you try calling anyone?”

“No,” Sniper started feeling uneasy.

“Not even the Teufort orphanage? Anyone?”

Sniper couldn’t take it anymore, and he blurted out, “Aw, hell! Why in God’s name would I take her to the Teufort orphanage!? To be raised by a bunch of damn lunatics in a place where she probably won’t ever be adopted by anyone, and then they’ll kick her on the street when she’s 18!? Is that what you want!?”

Pauling put her hands up defensively. “Hey, hey! I never said I wanted that, okay?” She sighed. “Listen, I’m just saying that it was a little irresponsible to just take her, even if she was abandoned,”

“She was in a damn dumpster,”

“I know,”

“She was malnourished when I found her,”

“Sniper, please listen to me,” Pauling pleaded. “Look, I’ll let you keep her,”

There was a pause, and Sniper spoke back up, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes, but under one condition,” she stated. “If you’ll let me check the recent birth registry in Teufort, so we can find a potential mother,”

Sniper chewed on his lip, looking towards Dee. After a moment, he took a breath. “Okay, but the mum probably doesn’t want her back,”

“I know, if she abandoned the baby in a dumpster she probably doesn’t,” Pauling agreed. “But it’s the right thing to do. You also need to sign official adoption papers, but I can help you with that,”

“Okay,” Sniper swallowed, looking away.

Dee started to whimper in her playpen, and Sniper rose up to pick her up. He settled back on the couch with Dee in his arms, and she grabbed the collar of his shirt into her tiny fist, looking up at him.

Pauling leaned in a bit, looking at Dee’s face. After a moment, she commented, “She’s really pretty,”

“Yeah,” Sniper agreed, smoothing a hand over the small head. Demo had been right, Dee’s hair was coming in thick and dark.

“What’s her name?”

“I’ve been callin’ her Dee,” Sniper responded. “Not short for anything, I just liked the sound of it,”

Dee’s pacifier fell out of her mouth, and she started to whine in panic. Sniper retrieved it and quickly gave it back to her. “Oops. Here ya go, beastie,”

As Dee began sucking on the pacifier again, Pauling commented, “You’re really good with her,”

Sniper smiled. “Ah, thank you,” he adjusted his grip on the infant, and then turned to Pauling. “You wanna hold her?”

Pauling hesitated, and then held her arms out. “Uh...sure,”

Sniper gently placed Dee in Pauling’s arms, and Pauling held Dee for maybe a few seconds before handing her back over to Sniper.

“Um, I’m sorry,” Pauling retracted her arms, staring back down at Dee. “I’m not that comfortable holding kids, uh...”

“That’s okay,” Sniper assured. “I didn’t used to be that good with kids either, ‘least I never thought I was. Never really spent that much time with ‘em, y’know?”

“Oh, I spent so much time around little kids when I was a teenager,” Pauling sighed. “By that logic, I should love them, but I really...don’t,” she laughed a little. “My mom ran a daycare out of our house when I was younger,”

Sniper glanced up, surprised. “Really? Wow. What was that like?”

Pauling groaned. “It was like having little brothers and sisters constantly. I mean, I didn’t seen them a lot since I was at school, but they’d leave their toys everywhere and they’d get into my stuff. One time, some of the kids got finger paint on my old typewriter, and I got so angry that I told my mom I would move out if she kept letting the kids near my stuff,”

“Wow. Did you?”

“No. Well, not then. I moved out a couple years later but...” she trailed off, suddenly getting quiet. “I got kicked out...because of...stuff,”

“Oh,” there was a silence, and Sniper patted her hand gently. “I’m sorry to hear that,”

“It’s okay,” Pauling assured. “It was a long time ago. I haven’t seen my parents since,” she cleared her throat, looking back at Dee. “Anyway, I think it’s really interesting that you adopted a baby you found,”

Sniper raised an eyebrow. “Interesting? Why is it interesting?”

“Well...I mean, you were adopted,” Pauling shrugged. “I just think it’s cool that you adopted a kid yourself, years later,”

“I...” Sniper looked down at Dee. “Yeah...you’re right. Huh,” he hadn’t thought about that.

Pauling sniffed, standing up. “Oh, I almost forgot: I’m taking you guys out for dinner tonight at the diner, I hope that’s okay,”

“Yeah,” Sniper replied, letting Dee grab his finger. “Yeah, that’s fine. Can I bring Dee?”

“Of course,” Pauling nodded, smoothing her dress out before leaving the room. “I didn’t think you’d leave her behind here, anyway,”

“Yeah,”

As Pauling left the room, Sniper brought Dee up to his shoulder and hugged her close. “Yeah, Dee, I’d never leave you behind,” he murmured, rubbing her back lovingly. “Don’t worry,”

Dee cooed around her pacifier into Sniper’s ear, and Sniper planted a tiny kiss on her cheek.

#writing #my writing #this one is sappy whoa #i mean this is a sappy story but #this chapter is pretty sappy #also pauling headcanons hell yeah!!#tf2 #tf2 fanfic #tf2 sniper #tf2 miss pauling #dee #fanfiction #cw: child abandonment

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thearrangment-phff · 5 years

Text

LXV.

September 2018

“Archduchess Isabella and Prince Harry have been in Switzerland since the beginning of the month with The Duchess of Sussex’ family. The two were spotted at the wedding of Archduke Franz Ludwig to Mathilde Vignon. Archduke Franz Ludwig is a first cousin of The Duchess. A vast number of Habsburg and Bourbon royals were also in attendance.”

“King Philippe and Queen Mathilde of Belgium along with the Grand Ducal couple of Luxembourg, Hereditary Prince Alois and Princess Sofie of Liechtenstein will attend the Heads of State of German-speaking countries get together in Switzerland. Many believe that Archduchess Isabella will attend as a guest of her uncle and aunt, the Grand Duke and Duchess of Luxembourg.”

“The Duke and Duchess of Sussex are expected to stay in Switzerland until the mass to commemorate the 25th anniversary of King Baudouin of the Belgians’ death in Brussels. The Belgian royal court confirmed The Duke and Duchess of Sussex would be attending. King Baudouin was the great-uncle of Archduchess Isabella and his wife, Queen Fabiola of the Belgians was her godmother. Archduchess Isabella’s eldest son The Earl of Ross who was born earlier this year carries the name Baudouin in honor of his great-grand-uncle, the former Belgian King.”

“Where is your father?” asked Yolande to Isabella.

“I have no idea,” answered Isabella.

“I’ll go find him,” said Marie Astrid as she left the room to find her husband.

“Are we going to be late?” asked Harry.

“I don’t think so. My grandmother made us all get ready an hour earlier than everyone else,” replied Isabella.

“So we’ll be early?”

“Yes.”

“Belle, darling, can you help me stand up?” asked Yolande. Isabella went to her grandmother extending her hand. The elder women leaned on Isabella’s hand and got up. She walked towards Harry and patted his chest because that’s how far she could reach, “How are you?”

“Uh... fine,” answered Harry.

“While Charlie and Bertie are a dream, I only have 15 great-grandchildren with Kathy, Luisa, and Marie Christine’s children coming soon. When are you and Belle going to give me more great-grandchildren?”

“Wait. Did you just say, Luisa? She’s expecting?!” asked Isabella.

“Did you not know?” asked Yolande.

“No! I didn’t. How far along is she?”

“6 weeks possibly, maybe 8. I can’t remember Belle! I’m an old ask your mother.”

“How many people knew before I did?” asked Isabella.

“Well, obviously Luisa and Alex, me and your parents. The royal house is going to make an announcement soon,” answered Yolande.

“Will the baby be in line for the Belgian throne then?” asked Harry.

“Yes! All descendants of Albert are in the line. Since Alexander and Luisa got permission to marry from the king and government her children are the only ones in line. Remember Amedeo didn’t get permission to marry Elisabetta,” explained Yolande.

“I can’t believe he is finally having a baby. Everyone finally has a family of their own,” smiled Isabella.

Before anyone else could say anything Isabella’s aunt and her family came in. The Liechtenstein family of five said hello to Yolande, Isabella, and Harry as soon as they entered the room.

“How are you?” asked Margaretha to Yolande.

“Wonderful! 2 new babies, with Kathleen due soon and Christine in December. It’s all so wonderful. Alex and Luisa are also expecting so it’s all very exciting,” beamed Yolande.

“Yes, all very exciting. If only mine could give me some grandchildren,” joked Margaretha and her children all seemed to roll their eyes at the same time.

“I don’t think we were supposed to say anything about Alex and Luisa Mamie,” interjected Isabella.

“We’re family,” spoke Marie Astrid, Isabella’s cousin.

“I think he wanted to tell us all together, another time. Probably when we’re all in France at the end of the month,” added Josef-Emanuel.

“Josef is right. We can’t mention this to Alex. It’s his and Luisa’s special moment,” nodded Isabella

“So lets me get this right. Kathleen in October, Marie Christine in December, and Alexander in spring? Of course, Charlie and Bertie were born 4 months ago... that’s a lot of kids born in a short time,” said Harry.

“It’s the joys of growing up in a large family. You can all have kids around the same time,” smiled Marie Astrid.

“We better get going,” interrupted Nikolaus, Isabella’s uncle by marriage.

“Are you coming with us?” asked Margaretha.

“Not yet. Marie Astrid went to go find my son. Once they come back, we’ll go.”

“Well, we’ll see you at the church then,” smiled Margaretha. One by one, the Liechtenstein family said bye to everyone with kisses on the cheek and half-done hugs.

It took a couple of seconds until Harry asked a question, “Where are the rest of your brothers and sisters?”

“Marie Christine, Imre, Christoph, and Gabriella don’t really go to these things. They prefer to stay out of the view of cameras. Usually, Alexander does too but since he married Luisa he’ll have to be more in the spotlight. He’s here, he’s just with her and the Austria-Este family,” answered Isabella.

“Why didn’t more people come?” asked Harry.

“Many people did but some of them have real jobs and not ones were in ‘work’ for an hour a week.”

“That felt like an insult.”

“Not an insult. Just stating facts,” replied Isabella.

“Belle!” Isabella turned around to find Charlotte walking steadily towards her with the rest of her family behind her.

“Charlotte! Hi!” Charlotte towered over Isabella when giving her a hug, “Ferdinand?”

“Hi Belle.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I invited him,” answered Charlotte.

“Yes. I got that, but... are you two a thing?”

“Well... yes. It hasn’t been long,” answered Charlotte.

“And you invited him here?” asked Isabella.

“Ferdinand means a lot to me so I thought inviting him to this would show that.”

“Charlotte, I’m not judging you. I would be the last person to do so. Ferdinand is family and you are as well. It was simply a surprise that’s all,” replied Isabella.

Isabella’s parents Carl Christian and Marie Astrid finally entered the room, “He couldn’t find his tie anywhere.”

“Tie? You are making us late over a tie?” asked Yolande.

“The king gave it to me. I wanted to wear it today,” answered Carl Christian.

“We should get going. We don’t want to be late,” said Yolande earning nods from around the room.

The car ride was short from the castle to the church. Yolande, Harry, Isabella, Marie Astrid, and Carl Christian had ridden in one car while Guillaume, Sibilla, Charlotte, Leopold, and Paul Louis in the other. When they got out of the car, Harry could swear the screams got louder. There was that thought again. The one about how Isabella changed his life once they married. Years ago, would he have imagined himself at a Catholic church in Brussels paying his respects to a dead Belgian King surrounded by the Belgian, Luxembourgish, and Liechtenstein royal families? Of course not.

Harry was now on friendly terms with the Belgian king and Luxembourgish Grand Duke since the beginning of his marriage. King Philippe was a godfather to his son, Isabella was a godmother to the king’s youngest daughter. Queen Fabiola was godmother to Isabella. The ties were never going away and they were all Harry’s. He had spent years in the shadow of his elder brother seeing how William was the future king and Harry was the spare. But things had changed, Isabella had changed him.

Isabella smiled back at the crowd but no waving because she saw that as disrespectful at an event like this. Harry looked back at the crowd for a couple of seconds before turning back to Isabella and her family. Liechtenstein, Austria, and Luxembourg all within a couple of feet of him.

“Harry, come on. We have to go find our seats,” said Isabella with Charlotte by her side.

Harry took one last look and went inside. The service lasted about an hour and a half. The Royal Family and the other guests gathered at the Royal Crypt where all the former Kings and Queens of the Belgians who have passed away are buried. The King and Queen laid a wreath at the grave of King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola. Isabella let out a single tear when she saw the picture of her great-aunt and great-uncle on their tomb.

“Are you okay?” asked Harry.

“Yes. It’s just that I wished they both lived a little longer, that’s all.”

They met with the public in which Harry and Isabella were paired next to King Philippe and Queen Mathilde. Grand Duke Henri and Prince Louis left immediately after laying the wreath so they could get back to Luxembourg. There were a lot of questions from the public to Harry and Isabella since their sons were 4 months old now.

“Your Imperial Highness, how does it feel to be back in Belgium?”

“Wonderful. Belgium has always felt like another home to me.”

“Prince Harry! How are the twins?!”

“They are strong. Big boys thanks to their mother,” joked Harry.

“Your Majesty how does it feel to be godfather to the Earl of Ross?!”

“Very honored. Belle is godmother to my Eleonore and being godfather to Charlie is a blessing.”

Of course after everything the press went wild with their stories. The ones who annoyed Isabella the most were saying that she and Harry didn’t belong in Belgium and William and Kate should have been there instead.

“They are my family! Mine! I had every right to be there!” yelled Isabella.

“Of course you do Belle-”

“Those stupid little nothings make money off of my name. I have the ties to Europe, not Harry!”

“Exactly why-”

“No! God, I am sick and tired of them saying that I married the 6th in line! I brought back royalty to this family. Me! Nothing but a bunch of ungrateful people who would rather have commoners as their king than gods” ranted Isabella.

“That is enough Isabella! Quiet down before you say else something you’ll regret,” warned Harry.

“These are the times I regret marrying you! You and your peasant family have been nothing but a thorn in my side,” argued Isabella.

Princess Charlotte of Murat took this opportunity to slap Isabella across the face, “Your husband is right. While you gave him blood, he gave you validity. You would be good to remember that.”

Princess Christine, Countess Gaelle, and Countess Olympia were left speechless. Gaelle was the first to act by putting her arm around Isabella, “I think it’s time for prayer-”

“No! I will not be praying to some stupid imaginary thing I don’t believe in. Not anymore!” yelled Isabella.

“What she needs is a drink,” interrupted Olympia.

“No. She will have no more alcohol. I don’t want that,” said Harry.

“I won’t be going back to London or Balmoral with you.”

“Where do you think you’ll go?” asked Harry.

“Zeno’s christening is at the end of the month. I’ll be at Berg castle with my family until then. We were supposed to go to France with my family after that and I’ll be right with them,” answered Isabella.

“You will not do that Isabella. You have spent too much time outside of London. You haven’t been doing anything but seeking refugee with your family since Charlie and Bertie were born. You need to do more.”

“Maybe I should just divorce you now and end my misery before I hang myself in our children’s room,” threatened Isabella.

“You will do no such thing!” yelled Charlotte as she went to Isabella and grabbed her face, “You are a stupid little girl and I will be damned if I let you ruin everything.”

“Charlotte let her go!” yelled Christine.

Charlotte continued her hold on Isabella’s face, “You will do what all your betters have done before you. You will give birth to all the little royal babies your body will handle and die in this marriage. Do you understand me?”

Isabella ripped her face out of Charlotte’s grasp, “You were nothing before me. I gave you importance so don’t talk to me like you better. You married for a title, you married for money, but I was not an impoverish countess, I am an Archduchess of Austria.”

“I’ve had enough of this. I am going back to London and I have engagements in the Netherlands in a week. I would hope that you would come but at this point, I would rather you not. I’m taking the boys back with me to London,” explained Harry.

“The boys need me. I am their mother,” argued Isabella.

“You aren’t breastfeeding them anymore. They don’t need you and besides you rarely ever took take them, Gaelle and Olympia did.” Harry walked away and Isabella grabbed the nearest thing and threw it in his direction. The glass shattered on the wall near his face and he flinched, “Did you really just do that? You are unbelievable Isabella!”

#PHFF #prince harry fanfiction #prince harry fanfic #royal fanfiction #royal fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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ohkvothe · 5 years

Text

Everyone knows that there are a lot of locations in London where Harry Potter was filmed (or set), most famously perhaps Platform 9 and 3/4 at King’s Cross Station. But there are actually a lot of film locations in London that you can visit. I have never seen a complete overview of all of them (and how to get there), so here is a walking tour guide for all the film locations you can see in London!

Overview:

Stops: Lambeth Bridge (1). Westminister Bridge (2). Scotland Place (3). Piccadilly Circus (4). Leicester Square Station (5). Australian High Commission (6). Millenium Bridge (7). Stoney Street, Borough Market (8). Leadenhall Market (9). Claremont Square (10). [King’s Cross Station] (11).

Detailed Walk Description:

You’ll be starting off at Lambeth Bridge. In POA, this is the bridge where the Knight Bus drives between the two double decker busses. Additionally, the side of the bridge is shown in the first film (the sort of London opening shot).

Photo of Lambeth Bridge.

Lambeth Bridge in the third Harry Potter film.

This is the view of Lambeth Bridge, today, from a bit further west along the river. Obviously the shot used in Philosopher’s Stone is from further up, but I don’t think there is a way to get into any of the houses along the river.

This is the shot from the first Harry Potter film.

The next stop is Westminister Bridge. Just walk along the river (on the south side), until you get to the next bridge (generally super crowded). You can see the Houses of Parliament across the river (and the currently veiled Elisabeth Tower – fun fact, Big Ben is actually the name of the largest bell inside the tower, not the tower itself). In OOTP, Harry and the Order of the Phoenix members fly under the bridge and along the Houses of Parliament (other sights shown in the flight are Tower Bridge, the HMS Belfast and the City of London and Canary Wharf skylines).

The next stop is Scotland Place in Whitehall. Walk across Westminister Bridge and turn right to walk towards Trafalgar Square. If you’re interested you can enter Westminister Underground Station – you’ll recognize it from the OOTP film. It’s the station Mr Weasley and Harry enter on their way to the Ministry of Magic.

Westiminister Underground Station.

Scene from Harry Potter 5.

Scotland Place today (there’s an arch over the street on the right in the film which is not actually there (the one the phone box is placed underneath). Also there’s massive construction going on at the moment!

Shot from the films.

Before you reach Trafalgar Square (you can already see it in the distance), turn right into Scotland Place. This street was used both in the Order of the Phoenix and the Deathly Hallows movies. In OOTP, the phone box Mr Weasley and Harry use is placed here, and in DH it’s the place where Ron looks around the corner when he, Harry and Hermione are planning to infiltrate the ministry. Somewhere in the area you can also find the place where the entry to the Ministry of Magic was located in DH (i.e. the toilets). However, they don’t actually exist and were just put up for the film in the middle of the street. I don’t know where exactly that scene was filmed, but if you walk around the area you may find it (I think it’s closer to Westminister Abbey).

Scotland Place today (I literally waited for about 15 min because a massive truck was parking right in front of the corner).

Scene from the film.

If you exit the street again and continue walking you’ll reach Trafalgar Square (with the very noticeable Nelson’s Column in the middle). Walk left (past the Canadian Embassy) and then turn right, until you reach Piccadilly Circus. The place was used to film the scene in DH after Ron, Harry and Hermione escape from the death eaters at Bill and Fleur’s wedding (and almost get run over by a red bus). Piccadilly circus got an entire makeover in the years since the film but the GAP is still there!

Taken from Shaftesbury Avenue (Northeast side of Piccadilly Circus).

The next stop is a sort of hazy one, but I thought I’d include it anyway:

The gate between Patisserie Valerie and no. 12 was used as the entry to the Leaky Cauldron in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

Walk towards Leicester Square Station. When you’re in front of the station, walk north on Charing Cross Road. In the beginning of the Half-Blood Prince the camera follows the road up from Trafalgar Square (or rather follows the flying deatheater shadow) and then, just after Leicester Square station, ‘enters’ the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley where the deatheaters kidnap Ollivander. This location of this entry is just behind Leicester Square Station, in Great Newport Street (right).

Australia House (or the Australian High Commission).

Walking on, through Convent Garden and towards Strand, a bit behind Waterloo Bridge you’ll reach Australia House (or rather the Australian High Commission). The scenes inside Gringotts were filmed in this house, but sadly, you can’t enter. Some people have told me that you can talk to the security guards, and if they’re having a nice day they will sometimes let you have a peak inside. I’ve never tried this but you’re welcome to try!

The next stop is the Millenium Bridge. To get the best view you can cross the river using Blackfriar’s Bridge (especially great if you’re an Infernal Devices fan and need a short cry) and walk along the river on the south side (which is a lovely walk, too). After a while, the Tate Gallery is on your right, and you can step onto Millenium Bridge and get a lovely view of St Paul’s on the other side of the river. There are two non-HP things I can recommend here: The Tate Gallery is free to enter, and they have a great viewing platform on the 10th floor! Also, an artist has drawn tiny images on chewing gums on the Millenium Bridge that you don’t notice, but some of them are super detailed and look really nice. Also, the Globe Theatre is right next to the bridge (if you’re interested, you can get 5 pound standing tickets for almost all shows).

Scene from HP6.

Shot of the bridge from the south side.

Stay on the south side of the river and walk further east. The next stop is Stoney Street at the Borough Market. Under the bridge over Stoney Street was the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron in the third (and only the third) Harry Potter film (where the Knight Bus bumps the car and triggers the alarm). In the scene in Harry’s room in the Leaky Cauldron you can also see the Southwalk Cathedral and the railway bridge from the window (I don’t know where you can get the exact shot from though). The Borough Market is a great place to have lunch, if you’re feeling hungry. Just around the corner is The George, one of the oldest and loveliest pubs in London!

This must be the darkest shot from the entire film!

The bridge today – during the day, it’s probably going to be super crowded, but if you really want to see the spot you can come back in the evening when the market’s gone.

For the next stop, you can either walk (about 20-30 min), or you can take a bus. We’re crossing the river again (using London Bridge) and walk towards Leadenhall Market (I know it says Old Spitalfield Markets on the map SORRY). This is a really lovely market where two scenes in the first Harry Potter films were shot. Firstly, the scene of Harry and Hagrid walking towards the Leaky Cauldron, and the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron itself. The first shot is in front of shop no. 39 in the Lime Street Passage, the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron is in the Bulls Head Passage.

Shot from the first Harry Potter Film.

Lime Street Passage.

Scene from the film.

The entrance to the Leaky Cauldron today.

To get to the next location I’d recommend to take the tube (although you can also walk, but it’ll take you about 40 minutes). Walk to Moorgate Station and take a north-bound Northern line to Angel Station. From the station, it’s a five-minute walk to Claremont Square. This is the place where the outside of Grimmauld Place No. 12 was filmed. The row of houses is opposite a small park, and you’ll notice a small gate at the end of the street. That’s the gate through which Moody, Harry, Tonks and the others exit the park after their flight across London.

Scene from the 5th film.

Claremont Square, with the park on the right.

We’re getting to the last stop of this tour. Walking along the street, you turn right and then left, and walk down towards King’s Cross Station. The station is right next to St Pancreas Station, and I read somewhere that J. K. Rowling actually thought about St Pancreas Station while writing the Harry Potter books, because she confused the two. Because St Pancreas station is gorgeous and King’s Cross is a bit meh, outer shots of St Pancreas were used in all Harry Potter films whenever King’s Cross station is shown (most noticeably in the second film, when the Weasley’s Ford Anglia circles the tower).

Shot from the second film.

St Pancreas today (do you notice that it’s getting dark? This tour took so long!)

Enter King’s Cross Station. If you enter through the main entrance, you can walk past the big info screens and look right. There you’ll find an “Official” Platform 9 and 3/4 with massive queues and an official fan shop, where you can have your picture taken with half a trolley in the wall and a Platform 9 and 3/4 sign. The actual scene in the movie was filmed at the barriers between platform 4 and 5. Officially, you can’t get there without a ticket, but there’s a sort of back entrance: If you’re standing in front of the fan shop, turn around. You’ll see escalators going up to the second level. Go up, and at the top of the escalators turn left and walk across the bridge. You’ll cross ticket barriers that are usually open, and you can walk on and take the stairs or elevators down to the the platform.

Scene from the film.

Platform 4 in King’s Cross Station.

And that’s the end of the walking tour. I’ve tried my best to mention all the film locations in London that are accessible, and I hope you enjoyed the little look into Harry Potter’s London. Feel free to send in any locations I missed, and I hope your feet are still in one piece! 🙂

London Harry Potter Tour Everyone knows that there are a lot of locations in London where Harry Potter was filmed (or set), most famously perhaps Platform 9 and 3/4 at King's Cross Station.

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yelloskello · 5 years

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Saw a post on twitter talkin abt how reviews 4 detective pikachu keep saying it sucks cause u have to have knowledge of the pokemon franchise for it (which is stupid, but thats another can of worms) and comparing it to avengers endgame's 20 movie homework assignment - which isnt hyperbole. And i was thinking of all the folks who are like 'stop crying why dont you understand how sequels work'. And it got me musing on what marvel and disney have done here to basically guarantee that they not only garner huge profits from their new movies, but that they continue to garner huge profits on basically every mcu movie theyve made since 2008.

Like. MCU movies whether i like it or not are a huge part of being... social, basically. I dont give a shit about them, but i also have almost no friends and dont give a shit about communicating with people in a general sense. But every time a new marvel movie comes out, its fuckin all people talk about. It permeates everything. Ive seen the societal pressure to continue seeing these movies even if you dont care about them, *just* so you can be part of everyday conversation for a good few months. People RUN to see the movie as soon as humanly possible because people want to avoid spoilers so desperately they completely isolate themselves from the world. And, yeah, you can apply this to literally any movie in a popular franchise or any standalone heavy hitter - what sets mcu apart is that 20 movie homework assignment.

In looking up what movies are essential to watch before endgame, the absolute shortest list i could find was 8, and that was like, bare bones. Watching those 8 movies, if youre a newbie to the franchise, you still wouldnt know who the fuck most of the heroes popping up are or why the fuck theyre there. (I have general knowledge of marvel, but i never saw ant man, so even being marginally aware of the hero when i saw civil war and he popped up, i was like 'what the fuck, whyd they kidnap celebrity paul rudd?') In order to fully understand who everybody is, i'd say you have to watch at least the first movie of every individual hero's movie line. In order to have perspective on the inner workings of characters and what has happened to them so you can see where theyre coming from, youd have to watch *all* of it. Which, i mean, if people wanna do that, u do u booboo. Some people are in love with this shit. Some people wanna be able to, like, be part of greater society and talk to their friends. I get it. Youre not gonna be able to keep up with conversation as well if you dont know who a third of the characters even are. If your friends are big fans, you better be able to talk shop, too.

What im musing on is that, like, theres no way this wasnt fully intentional. Theres no way that disney and marvel arent aware of the social influence their franchise has, and no way they werent aware of how it would be from the beginning, just by watching social trends when huge movies come out. I mean, thats what your marketing team is there for, yknow. Its literally their job. The entire mcu line was carefully crafted to make sure youre not just giving money to their new movies, but to all their old movies, since its required watching and youll experience some level of social isolation if you dont. Yeah, other franchises have done this stuff too, having multiple sequals or breaking up their sequals into several parts to make more money. But - and i might be wrong, if theres another quite this huge, im just not remembering - not to the extent the mcu has. Not *20 fucking movies*, spanning several different storylines with their own sequels that are only intermingled juuuuust enough to be important. Imagine if all the disney princess movies were intermingled. Imagine if, in order to watch moana, you had to watch everything from, oh, little mermaid on, to understand whats going on.

And then, like the big bright maraschino cherry on top, if you complain about it being inaccessible, you get social backlash. Youre socially isolated and out of the popular loop if you dont see it, but if you take issue with everything you have to do just to get there, youre chastised by your peers. The only way to win is to give marvel lots of money, and thats entirely intentional on their part.

And yes, i know, ppl can pirate movies or read summaries. I am one of the ppl who basically live by doing that, so ofc i know. But i think we can all agree that reading summaries is absolutely not the same as seeing the movie first hand, leaves out a ton of details, and gives you none of the emotional impact of the situation, so youre still socially stunted - and theres absolutely a societal trend to some people to just experience the whole thing because it just feels right. Basically as a ritual. (See: people rewatching the LOTR trilogy before going to see the hobbit movies, just to hype themselves up and turn seeing the movie into a much bigger personal event, as ONE example among mmmaaannnyyy.) And pirating? Tons of folks are vehemently morally opposed to that. (I am not, but like, doesnt mean there aint a significant number of ppl who are.)

Its clever. And also kinda horrifying, in a 'capitalism is highly manipulative and insidious' kinda way.

Im 100% sure this musing is not new or groundbreaking in any way, shape, or form, and that tons of people have been well aware of it for ages. Its just interesting to think about.

#i suppose it's worth mentioning that I also very literally work in marketing #for a large local nonprofit #so talkin about how this is all meticulously planned ain't tinfoil hatting #after seeing all the work that goes into marketing for a *local nonprofit*#and comparing it to a company with the kind of means disney and marvel would have?#I can guarantee: there are no happy accidents here. EVERYTHING is planned out to the letter.

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pcttrailsidereader · 5 years

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Expert Tips

Originally published August 21, 2018 in the Seattle Times and written by Crystal Paul travel and outdoors reporter. This seems like an appropriate way to begin the new year.

When collecting stories for inclusion in The Pacific Crest Trailside Reader, I was struck by the number of stories that turned on a poor choice, an unnecessary risk, backpacking alone, or going excessively light. They may make for good reading but terrible backpacking.

“Just like any sport there is inherent risk to hiking, but there’s definitely things you can do to mitigate those risks,” says Kindra Ramos, director of communications at the Washington Trails Association (WTA). Ramos’ words are worth considering.

Hiking can be a great way to relax, get away and enjoy the natural beauty around us. But while going on a hike can literally be a walk in the park, there are some inherent risks involved when you head out into the wilderness.

We spoke with Sgt. John Adams with the Search and Rescue unit at Snohomish County Volunteer Search and Rescue, and Kindra Ramos, director of communications at the Washington Trails Association (WTA), to learn some tips that can keep you safe on the trail.

Here’s what they suggested.

Tell someone where you’re going

Especially if you’re hiking alone, it is important to make sure someone knows exactly where you’re going and when you expect to be back. Snohomish County Search and Rescue, and Everett Mountain Rescue have a handy “Trip Plan” on their websites you can fill out and leave with a friend or family member.

Adams also suggests leaving information with a friend of family member that includes the make and model of the car you are driving, information on a back-up route or trail that you might take if your original route is compromised, and a date and/or time when someone should alert authorities if you haven’t returned.

Research the trail and check conditions before you go

Before you leave, learn as much as you can about the trail, and check current conditions. WTA provides detailed descriptions of many hiking trails in Washington, including maps and current trip reports on their website, wta.org.

Check trail conditions and weather forecasts before you leave. The weather can be very different even an hour from where you live, and trail conditions can change daily. Also consider things like what time it will begin to get dark, and water levels if there are streams on the trail. In Washington, where many streams are glacier-fed, water levels can rise over the course of the day. For the most up-to-date trail information, call a ranger station. WTA maintains a convenient online list of contact information for several ranger stations at National Forests and Parks.

Pack the essentials

Whether your hike lasts a couple hours or several days, having appropriate gear is crucial. WTA’s list of “Ten Essentials” that every hiker should bring with them includes the following:

1. Navigation: A map and compass, GPS unit, or even a smartphone.

2. Hydration: Staying hydrated is essential. Carry either enough water for yourself for the duration of your hike, or a map of natural water sources along your route and a water filter, purifier, chemical tablets, or means of boiling unfiltered water before drinking it.

3. Nutrition: Bring enough food to tide you over on your hike, plus extra snacks in case you are unexpectedly delayed on your return.

4. Rain gear and insulation: You’ll want moisture-wicking, water-resistant, warm clothing, even on a nice day. Temperatures change and can drop dramatically as night approaches and at higher elevations.

5. Fire-starter: Matches, a lighter, and flint all work just fine. Make sure to keep any fire-starter and kindling dry.

6. First-aid kit: A good first-aid kit will have what you need to deal with major injuries. To make sure you know how to use everything in your kit, take a course or talk to someone experienced in first-aid.

7. Tools: A multi-tool and some duct tape will get you through a great deal of gear repairs and other challenges that may arise.

8. Illumination: Make sure it’s a good source of light. A cell phone will rarely provide the kind of illumination you’ll need in the extreme dark. Instead, carry a flashlight or a headlamp (and extra batteries).

9. Sun protection: Sunglasses (especially if you’re traveling in snow), a hat and sunscreen.

10. Shelter: You don’t need to carry a tent, but a Mylar blanket or tarp can protect you from the elements in an emergency.

Consider bringing more gear

The “Ten Essentials” will likely see you through the most common dangers, but Adams of Snohomish County Volunteer Search and Rescue suggests you also consider bringing along a personal locator beacon and a whistle. He cites several successful Search and Rescue cases in which hikers were found alive and rescued when using locators like the Garmin inReach.

Don’t be afraid to turn back

Ramos says one of the most important safety tips is to remember that the trail will always be there tomorrow. If you are uncomfortable, uncertain or worried about your safety at any time, be honest with yourself. Don’t be afraid to call it a day and turn back.

Educate yourself

If you’re new to hiking or backpacking, there are several introductory courses — like REI’s “Map and Compass Navigation Basics” or “Lightweight Backpacking Basics” — that can help you get started. But even seasoned hikers can benefit from skill development courses like The Mountaineers’ “Alpine/Wilderness First Aid” course. The National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) is another great resource for courses.

Adams also recommends joining your local volunteer search and rescue organization and taking advantage of the training they offer.

“It’s really about the knowledge of what to do,” says Ramos. “Your brain is your most important essential all of the time,” she says.

If worse comes to worst

Sometimes, no matter how much research you’ve done and how careful you are, things go wrong anyway. This is where the gear you packed and the preparation you made before hitting the trail just might save your life. But first things first:

Stay calm. Both Adams and Ramos emphasize the importance of staying calm in a crisis. This will allow you to assess the situation and intelligently deploy the gear you need and the skills you’ve developed to keep yourself safe.

Get to a safe place and stay there. If you are already in a safe place, stay there. If you’re lost, wandering is likely to take you further away from the known trail and make you harder to find. If you’re injured, trying to move around may lead to further injury. If you are not in a safe place, find the nearest safe location and stay there.

Remember your gear. Use your gear to stay warm, hydrated, fed and as visible as possible. If you opted for that locator beacon, activate it. If you brought that whistle, use it. The information you left with a friend or family member will make it easier for Search and Rescue to find you.

Crystal Paul: [email protected].

#Ten Essentials #Search and Rescue #Washington Trails Association #The Mountaineers #National Outdoor Leadership School

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