#drummer fuck the hardest and they get into drums because they want to hit their fathers

[brainjuicey]

repeating in my head cause i start my new job next week, i shouldn't start another wip rn just because ive become posessed with the idea of making drummer!ice in a top gun band au

[calpalirwin]

Better Now

Summary: Putting yourself back out there after a heartbreak is never easy, but you and Ashton are learning that it’s worth it.

A/N: Big thanks to @jessalyn-jpeg​ for listening to me cry over Taylor Acorn songs while I figured out how to combine her latest releases into 1 fic.

Word Count: 2.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

Aside from the composition book that lay open on the coffee table, the recording room was empty. Face contorting in curious confusion, Ashton picked it up, thinking one of his bandmates had left it behind. But as he caught a glance at the words sprawled across the lined pages in black inked handwriting he didn’t recognize he knew he should have closed it. Songwriting was a very personal thing, and he would hate for anyone to find his own songbook lying around and read the contents. But the words jumped out at him, and he found himself taking a seat, still holding the notebook open in his hands.

“And no one comes to save you, you learn to save yourself. The world, it just keeps going on while you’re going through hell. No, it’s not all that it’s cut out to be. ‘Cuz you can’t hide behind the silver screen. Love ain’t like the movies.”

“Jesus…” he whispered to himself.

“Excuse me?” a female voice asked from the doorway, and Ashton jumped, snapping the notebook shut.

“Uh…” he stuttered, staring at the woman with her hair messily thrown up, dressed casually in jeans and a tank top, a tired but wild look in her bright eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

She adjusted the guitar case strap on her shoulder. “Uh, I hope so? A notebook? Standard composition notebook. Black and white colored. Probably impossible to distinguish from any other black and white standard composition notebook. I know, super helpful description. You haven’t happened to see one lying around here, have you?”

“Like this?” Ashton asked, flashing the notebook in his hand.

“It would look exactly like that!” she brightened. Then, her smile faltered. “But that one’s probably yours, isn’t it?”

“Uh, actually no. It was on the coffee table when I came in. I, uh, thought it might be one of my bandmates, but it’s not their handwriting.”

“Oh, so you read it?” she asked. No anger or embarrassment. Just clarifying a fact.

Ashton rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sorry… I didn’t read a lot. Just enough to realize the handwriting was different.” He held out the notebook to her for her to take. “It’s uh, good by the way. Whatever you’re working on. Relatable.”

“Thanks,” she said, taking the notebook from him and flipping through the pages to confirm that it was in fact hers. “I really need to keep better track of my shit… Thanks for finding it.”

“Yeah, ‘course. And sorry again for reading bits of it.”

She waved a hand at his apology. “Oh, it’s fine. My fault for leaving it lying around. Sorry you can relate to it.”

Ashton shrugged. “Heartbreak: part of the standard human experience. Some of your lyrics actually remind me of a song my band put out once years ago. At the time I considered myself lucky to not be able to relate to it. But seeing yours… which is far more poetic than anything four teenage boys could come up with… I’m glad for songs like that. Makes you feel a little less alone in the drowning.”

“Yeah, I’m hoping this helps me at least start to tread water again. How long ago was the heartbreak for you?” she asked, then shook her head. “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I should probably be going anyway. Let you get back to your shit, and go off to deal with mine.”

Ashton chuckled. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s been about four months for me. So still recent enough to sting like a bitch.”

She smiled and laughed a bit at his words, but there was a sadness to both. “Two and a half months for me. So just enough to actually drag myself out of my bedroom.”

“And down to a studio where some jackass reads your most personal feelings. Awesome…”

There was a bit more realness to her laugh this time around. “Honestly, not a problem. It’s meant for people to hear, you know?”

“I suppose that’s true. I’m Ashton, by the way.”

“Y/N.”

“Good luck with the song, Y/N. Feel better soon, yeah?”

“Thanks. You too.” She turned to head out of the room, before pausing and turning back around. “What was that song? The one your band made that you couldn’t relate to at the time?”

Ashton’s cheeks turned pink. “Oh. You don’t wanna hear that one, trust me. Cringey teenage attempt at being emo punk.”

“Damn… Emo punk is my favorite.”

Against his better judgement, Ashton pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright,” he gave in, pulling up the song. “But you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Like I said, this was years ago.”

Y/N held out her pinky finger. “No judgement, swear.”

Ashton linked his own pinky with hers, and hit play. For the next three and a half minutes he watched her carefully as she stood there with her eyes closed, nodding her head along with the beat. On one hand, he was glad her eyes were closed because it meant that she couldn’t see him watching her, or see his embarrassment. But on the other hand it meant that he had no clue what she was thinking. He hit pause before it could replay again. “Like I said, some of your lyrics have a similar feeling,” he said with a shrug.

She opened her eyes as she nodded. “Yeah, I see what you mean. About thinking you’re getting the fairytale movie ending one second, and the next the ending is anything but happily ever after. Was one of those solos you?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I’m the drummer. So-”

“Lots of back up,” she interrupted with a knowing nod. “Is it because you don’t sing at all? Or just out of convenience?”

“Mostly convenience. In our earlier days we used to split up singing pretty evenly. And then we all got more comfortable in our roles. But I still sing from time to time in more than a back up way.”

“That’s cool. And I bet it makes recording stuff and everything so much easier. I have to do a lot of borrowing or outsourcing to get all the sounds I want.”

“Not in a band, huh?”

“Nope. Just your regular solo artist.”

“That’s gotta get lonely.”

“It can be. But it also means making things in my vision, and not having to compromise on that.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to lay down some drum tracks, or just some company so you’re not drowning alone, I’m here most of the time.”

She nodded, understanding what he wasn’t saying about an intrinsic need to stay out of the house as much as humanly possible. Away from the memories that haunted every aspect of being awake. “Thanks, Ashton,” she said, once again turning to leave, but found herself turning back towards him, another question on her lips. “Do you mind if I ask you something personal?”

“Go for it.”

“What’s the hardest part of breaking up? Of trying to move on, and feel like yourself again?”

“Honestly? Waking up, and seeing that empty side of the bed. Hits you like a freight train all over again. That kind of overwhelming sense of dread that you’re never gonna feel normal again.”

“But then you get up, and try anyway, hoping that today it hurts just a little bit less than it did yesterday.”

“But it doesn’t, and you start to lose hope that the pain will ever stop.”

“That’s the hardest part.”

“The fuckin’ worst. But hey. It can’t suck forever. Or, that’s what I keep telling myself anyway. That’s what finally gets me out of bed.”

“And hey! Maybe I'll get a hit song out of it in the process, too.” She feigned a smile, flashing her notebook.

“Oh, that’ll be a hit, no question about it.”

“Thanks. For uh… well everything, I guess. See you around, Ashton.”

“Good luck, Y/N.”

~~~

Y/N eventually did get the courage to ask Ashton for both his company and musical help, on a day when she found it harder than normal to get up out of bed.

She trudged her way into the studio, spotting him watching a coffee pot in the common living area. “Oh, hey,” he smiled warmly as she pulled open the fridge. “Making a fresh pot if you want any.”

She shook her head, grabbing a water bottle and taking a few sips from it. “Can I get your help today?” she asked in a low whisper, hoping to hide the wobble in her tone.

“Yeah, of course. Everything alright?”

She shook her head again, then wordlessly left for her recording room.

“So, what’s up?” Ashton asked when he found her a few moments later, cup of coffee in hand.

“You’re not allowed to judge me for any vulnerability today.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Because this verse is gonna be really hard for me to record.”

He nodded, taking a seat while she set up behind a microphone. A soft guitar track started playing, and when she took a breath, Ashton prepared himself for lyrics of her most recent break up. So when her soft voice started singing, “ ‘Cuz after my dad died, even though she never let us see her cry, my mom was broken inside, ‘cause she just lost her best friend. Why don’t they prepare you for that? When the picture perfect life you had goes black,” to say he was shocked was a bit of an understatement.

There was a click of the track, and the guitar stopped, the headphones settling around her neck. “I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke up softly. “I- that’s gotta be rough.”

“Most of the time it’s a dull ache. A small hum I can ignore if I don’t focus on it. But there’s a few days where the pain is all fresh, like I’m learning the news again for the first time. A shock to the system.”

“I like the juxtaposition of it all. Most of the time when people think of love gone wrong, or ending before we’re ready, it’s the break up. Because the alternative… it’s…”

“Unfathomable.”

“Yeah. It’s a pain that I can’t imagine, that’s for sure.”

“Lucky you.”

He chuckled slightly. “Nah. Not in the way you think. My own experience is fucked, but in the other direction. He left and never gave a shit.”

“That’s rough.”

“It was, yeah. I guess the small benefit is that I was too young to remember him leaving. So for me, he’s always been gone. Haven’t ever known anything different.”

“See, I’m grateful that I at least have my memories of my dad. Even if he’s been gone longer than I had him. But it’s like a double-edged sword. The memories bring some peace. But it also fuckin’ sucks that they’ll never be anything more than that. That I don’t get new ones.”

“Well, I dunno if talking about him helps you at all. But if you want to, you can.”

“You don’t mind? I don’t wanna bore you, or make you jealous.”

He patted the empty spot on the couch next to him. “C’mon, you asked for my help. Let me help.”

She gave a small laugh before moving to sit next to him. “Remember, you’re not allowed to judge me for being vulnerable.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He listened as stories of her childhood fell from her lips. He offered her up the box of tissues on the coffee table when her words got choked, and would gently prompt her into continuing when she stopped to apologize. He provided her with stories of his own childhood when her own stories grew too painful to share, confiding in her the way she was confiding in him. And when the sun started to cast long shadows across the room, maybe not a lot of work had been done when it came to her song, but Ashton had helped her nonetheless, and both of them felt a little lighter than they had been in a while.

~~~

Help in the form of company was given with much less hesitance after that, with Y/N and Ashton seeking each other out with regularity. Some days would be spent with the two barely exchanging a word as they played out various melodies, or wrote new lyrics. Other days were filled with endless chatter as they shared ideas they had, and provided ideas on how to overcome any blocks in creativity, or just swapped more stories. And other days still, he would help her work on her song.

When Y/N finally finished her song, Ashton was the first person she thought of to share it with, dragging him excitedly into the room with her. “Jesus, this is the happiest I think I’ve ever seen you,” he teased with a giggle.

“Do you wanna hear the song or not?” she asked.

“It’s done?”

“It’s done!”

“Well, hit play! C’mon!”

For three and a half minutes they stood in the middle of the recording room while her song blasted from the speakers. 

“Well?” she asked expectantly when silence overtook them once more. Then, more quizzically, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

He had an amazed smile on his face, dimples cratering his cheeks, and a soft shine in his eyes. “Staring at you like what?” he asked in response.

“Like you wanna… I dunno… kiss me or something…”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Then the soft look was melting away into confusion. “Cuz sometimes I think I want to.”

“And other times?”

“I talk myself down because I’m not sure what I want, or what I feel. We’re both still getting over people who caused us a lot of damage. And I don’t always feel like I’m ready to think about starting a relationship with someone new. But I also know that I’m never going to be ready until I actually start doing it. And I really like the friendship we’ve built the past couple of months. I feel more like me when I’m around you. Like, not only am I no longer drowning, I can actually feel the bottom. But I don’t know if those feelings come from being around someone who can relate to what I’m going through right now, like some weird trauma bond. Or if it’s real “I like you’ feelings. And it’s not fair to you for me to not know.”

She nodded, both understanding what he was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. “What if I kiss you instead?”

“Please, don’t.”

“Because you’re scared we’ll hurt each other? Ash, if we don’t at least try, then we’re never gonna know what’s real and what’s not.”

“It’s partially that. But also… If we end up kissing… I’m not going to want to stop.”

“Then you better not be a lousy kisser.”

~~~

7 Months Later

Ashton got a small flash of deja vu as he saw the black and white composition book lying open, the beginnings of a song scribbled across one of the pages. “Just another hopeless broken heart cliche. And all my fairytale ambitions, I just watched them wash away.”

“Y/N?” he called out, curious to learn where this song was going, and also where his girlfriend could be hiding. “Babe?”

“But it’s too late for sorry baby, even if you’ve changed. I’m not letting myself break down, count me out. Oh, I’m better now,” her voice sang softly as it came down the hallway with her, a black pen twirling between her fingers. She paused as she spotted him standing there with her notebook, a smile lighting up her face. “Hey, you.”

“Hey,” he matched her smile, handing her the notebook and pressing a kiss to her head. “That’s nice. Whatever you were just singing. What inspired this one?”

“Just reflecting a bit on this past year,” she told him, as she quickly wrote what she’d been singing in the notebook before the lyrics left her head.

“Feeling a lot better these days, huh?”

“Better than I’ve ever been.”

__

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[lesbianlotties]

FS prompt :) Deena's like lesbian catnip for every closeted girl within a 50 mile radius. She's completely oblivious, too. Sam, however, is pretty amused by it... and completely not jealous (ok, maybe a little jealous).

Sam Fraser was not a jealous person.

But every person has a limit.

It seems that every day there is a new girl attracted to Deena. Even if Deena is oblivious to all of it, Sam isn't. She might get a tiny little bit jealous sometimes.

Read on AO3

Shadyside was a relatively small town. And not the kindest one at that either. Gossip traveled fast in Shadyside. It didn’t come as a surprise that most people that were at least remotely aware of Deena’s existence also knew she was a lesbian. Something else that didn’t come as a surprise to anyone but Sam, was that the same couldn’t be said about her. Usually, people were shocked to find out Sam was a lesbian. Most of the time she didn’t mind, but there were only so many times she could stand being called Deena’s “best friend” when they were literally holding hands. One woman once had the nerve to call them sisters, and Kate swore she would never stop making fun of them for it.

Sam didn’t mind that random strangers didn’t recognize her immediately as Deena’s girlfriend. But then… well, there were other kinds of people.

It was impressive, really, the number of closeted girls that lived in Shadyside and neighboring towns. Even more impressive was the way they all seemed to possess a sixth sense to know where to find Deena, and a fantastic talent to completely ignore Sam’s presence. Sam didn’t blame them… entirely. She understood them. She had been in their place. Eyes hopelessly following every move of Deena, overthinking everything she said and the way she walked, paralyzed by fear at times and ready to risk it all for one girl the rest of the time. But Sam did take the risk, and she did it first , so all those girls had no right to even hope Deena would notice them because Deena was already taken and… Sam Fraser was not a jealous person, she liked to tell herself.

Deena, at least, seemed to be completely oblivious of the flock of star-struck girls that chased her wherever she went. She seemed to be the only one who didn’t notice though.

One day, the two of them were together at B Dalton’s, the bookstore. Deena decided to take a break from lovingly making fun of Sam’s taste in horror books above everything else and started wandering a different aisle of the store. It was a slow day though, the shop was far from crowded with only a couple of clients there. So, Sam started gathering all her patience the minute she heard someone say, “Oh! Hi! You, um, you’re Deena, right?”

Sam kept her distance because she was totally not a jealous person. She was just amused. She couldn’t avoid overhearing the entire conversation though. The girl asked for book recommendations and Deena literally listed Sam’s favorites books. The girl tried to talk to her about romance books and Deena flat out said she wasn’t interested in them. It was almost tragic.

When they made their way to the register, Heather managed to hold back her laughter enough to playfully purse her lips and bat her eyelashes at Deena and say, “Would you give me a book recommendation too?” Sam laughed, rolled her eyes, and held Deena’s hand just a little tighter on their way out of the store.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah!” Sam replied in a high-pitched tone that wasn’t very convincing. “That’s adorable, actually.”

Josh nodded, and the two of them continued to stand there awkwardly beside Deena’s car. They were watching as two of Josh’s classmates tried their absolute hardest to make Deena fall madly in love with them during a two-minute conversation in the school’s parking lot.

“No, I don’t think I’d be a good drum teacher, honestly,” Deena was saying. She shrugged, she had her hands buried in the jacket’s pockets, she looked like she was trying to disappear into it. “My hair? Uh, I just… use shampoo, I guess?”

Sam chuckled. She wasn’t jealous at all. If anything she admired the younger girls making an attempt when they didn’t stand a chance. Besides, she was the one who knew Deena’s entire haircare routine. Her respect for them was abruptly cut short when the girls managed to pull Deena’s hands off her jacket to compare their hands’ sizes. A second later, both girls and Deena were jumping in place, startled by the sudden and too loud sound of the car’s horn. Sam didn’t even try to hide her sly smile.

Sam swore again and again that she wasn’t a jealous person. But was it too much to ask that they could go to the store without Deena being hit on by hopeless girls?

This time it was a new cashier. To make things worse, for Sam at least, Simon was training the new girl, and definitely having a little too much fun with the scene in front of him.

“You make really good choices,” the lovestruck cashier was complimenting a truly unimpressive assortment of groceries on discount. “I could give you some recommendations if you’d like.”

“Yeah sure,” Deena mumbled, completely unaware of what she was agreeing to. She wasn’t even looking at the girl, she had all her focus on the bills in her hands, trying to make the math about how much she had left.

A step beside Deena, Sam was standing there, not completely frowning, but…

“This is for you,” Simon said, passing Sam a plastic bag. “For all that jealousy on your face.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Very funny,” she told him, snatching the bag off his hands.

She wasn’t jealous, she really wasn’t. She had no reason to be. She was the one carrying Deena’s groceries back to the car and kissing her in every red light on their way home. Plus, nobody needed to find out that from that moment on, Sam would make them stall or hurry up their shopping depending on which cashier was available.

Sam didn’t even want to use the J word again. That was a feeling she simply didn’t experience. But she could get a little annoyed, right? She could have some questions. Like how was it possible that another one of the cheerleaders hadn’t noticed she was dating Deena? Why on Earth would Kate introduce her to Deena? Could Deena really be that oblivious?

“Don’t be jealous, Samantha,” Kate said.

“Don’t call me that,” Sam replied. “And I’m not jealous! That is just sad.” She gestured in the general direction of the cheerleader twirling her hair on her finger in front of Deena.

“It worked for you though,” Kate noted. Then she reached out to hold Sam back from marching forward to reclaim her girlfriend. “Calm down, Sam. That girl could drop her skirt right then and there and Deena wouldn’t notice. She only has eyes for you. It’s gross.”

A small smile appeared on Sam's face. “I’m going to let that one fall during our next routine,” she said.

Kate threw her head back laughing. Then she was merciful enough to drag away the other cheerleader before Deena had to repeat again that “It’s actually cold tonight so no, I’m not hot in my uniform.” As much as it bothered her, Sam definitely agreed with that other girl about Deena in her uniform.

Sam Fraser was not a jealous person. She repeated that like a mantra so often, and she restrained herself from acting jealous so faithfully, all because she knew that someday someone would cross the line. Of course it would be someone from Sunnyvale.

It was another football match in Sunnyvale. Sam and Deena had a routine, a plan that never failed them, to meet behind the bleachers when nobody would notice. One time Sam arrived a little late and there was already a Sunnyvale cheerleader trying to get Deena all to herself.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam whispered to herself as she observed the scene from a safe distance away.

Deena was taking a step back from the girl invading her personal space. “Oh. Hey,” Deena cleared her throat. As much as she was known for a somewhat ruthless personality, she’d never known quite how to turn a girl away from her. “I’m, uh, actually waiting for someone.”

“You sure you weren’t waiting for me?” the Sunnyvaler insisted, stepping even closer.

Deena laughed awkwardly and took off her band hat to hold it between them as a sort of shield. The hat, of course, ended up falling to the ground. The stranger leaned down to pick it up, surely planning to pull off some great move that would totally sweep the Shadyside drummer off her lesbian feet. Of course, she didn’t expect to look up and find said Shadysider’s girlfriend standing there with a grin too treacherous for an otherwise very sweet face.

“Thank you so much,” Sam told her, taking the hat off the girl’s hands. “You can leave now.”

Sam didn’t wait for an answer before turning around and slowly but confidently pushing her girlfriend backward until Deena’s back hit the wall. Sam started kissing Deena without sparing a single second to check if the other girl had walked away at all.

After a moment of gladly accepting Sam’s fierce kisses, Deena’s brain caught up with what had just happened and she pulled back. “Whoa, Sam, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, quickly diving back for another kiss.

“ Sam. ”

After Deena pulled back a second time, Sam scoffed. “I’m sorry, did you want to invite her?”

They knew each other well enough to know what was going on and how to deal with it. Deena knew exactly when to be concerned about her girlfriend’s temper and when to smirk at her and further push her buttons. “Sam,” Deena said her name softly and held her even closer, smiling at the precious frown on Sam’s face. “Are you… jealous?”

“You know what?” Sam sighed deeply, melting in Deena’s arms. “Yeah, a little.”

Deen chuckled adoringly, and placed a small kiss on the corner of Sam’s lips. “You don’t have to be.”

“I know,” Sam interrupted her. She was back to smiling brightly, genuinely. They were back to feeling like they were the only two people in the town, the only people in the entire world. “Just kiss me again so I can be sure,” Sam whispered the playful request, closing the gap between them once more, enjoying the way she could feel Deena smiling as they kissed.

[nahoyaglock]

Haikyuu characters in Marchingband

+ w/ headcanons

warnings: mentions of underage smoking + drinking

a/n: i made this w my friend (@bigger-simp-than-kazuichi) and added ourselves bc idk, i miss marching band

even if ur not in mb or know alot of the terms it'd be helpful if you could read this and reblog, its rlly appreciated

also sorry for the long ass headcanons

Drum majors

semi, shirabu

Pit

terushima ! section leader, all of johzenji (i got lazy lol)

Clarinet

sugawara ! section leader, kageyama ! gets a solo, konoha, ginjima, hoshiumi

Flute

reon ! section leader, ennoshita, fukunaga, shibayama, washio

Saxophones

Alto sax

kinoshita, komi, onaga, yukie

Tenor sax

frobi (i couldn't help it i love mb), narita, kyotani

Bari sax

matsukawa ! section leader, tsukishima

Trumpet

oikawa ! section leader, bokuto ! gets a solo, kuroo, akaashi, akagi, sachiro

Mellophone

hanamaki ! section leader, kunimi, sarukui, kita, tendou

Baritone

aran ! section leader, yahaba, kindaichi, watari, inuoka

Trombone

omimi ! section leader, yamaguchi, lev, futakuchi

Sousaphone

iwaizumi ! section leader, asahi, aone

Drumline/Battery

Snare

ushijima ! section leader, tanaka, kai, suna

Tenors/Quads

taketora ! section leader, koganegawa, hyakuzawa

Bass

atsumu ! section leader, kenma, moniwa, levy (@bigger-simp-than-kazuichi), taichi

Cymbals

daisho ! section leader, yachi, kaori

Colorguard

kiyoko ! section leader, hinata, daichi ! gets a solo, nishinoya, yaku, sakunami, osamu, komori, kuguri, hiroo, hayato, goshiki

Headcanons

levy dating iwa and me dating kyotani qkchsjxjx im not sorry <3

barisax players would start beef and talk shit (to mainly guard)

hinata hits kageyama with a flag during kageyama’s solo

hinata also hits tsukishima (intentional)

hinata gets scolded by Ukai and has to run laps around the field

suna has all the goods 🥴🥴

suna and daisho are the potheads of the battery

ushijima tried weed once but thought it didn’t suit him

aone is new to sousaphone so iwaizumi teaches him outside of practice

tanaka and kiyoko are the "percussion/colorguard couple” 🤢

i love tanaka and kiyoko but percussion/colorguard couples are so 🤢🤢

shirabu was mad that he wasn’t the main drum major but let it go knowing that it was semi’s last year

daisho probably tells yachi terrible marchingband stories to scare her

kaoris cymbal fell off during a performance

terushima flirts with girls from other bands, so does mattsun.. and makki

kunimi hit kindaichi with his bell once during practice

kogane always steps off his with his right foot

kunimi, yahaba, and hyakuzawa always march out of time

daichi is on rifle and thats so sexy

shibayama and inuoka would help the pit after practices

osamu hits atsumu with his flag purposely

makki always tells kindaichi, lev, and yamaguchi that their plume is on backwards

so does mattsun >:))

goshiki grabbed the wrong flag one time

USHIJIMA AS SNARE CAPTAIN, THATS TO SEXC 🤤🤤

ushijima doing six-tuplets 🥵🥵

asahi wanted to play clarinet but got switched to sousa because hes big

kunimi, kyotani, and tsukishima hate the battery

kageyama tries to correct sugawara

mb rule number 1: rookies never correct vets, no matter how right the rookie is

sugawara lowkey hates kageyama and wishes he got a solo

one time kyotanis shako slipped in front of his eyes and he hit matsukawa

lev and bokuto almost always miss their dots

lev marches w bent legs, ew </3

kuroo drives his car on the football field

aran is the fastest runner

ushi, akaashi, and makki are the best marchers

iwa treats his section to mcdonalds

the drumline always brings panda express to pep-band games

oikawa and konoha skipped pep-band days and had to write a 10 page essay

lev always snuck his friends into the pep-band section

me and tendou would always forget to bring water

kyotani shared water w me tho <3

yukie and mattsun would always chip their reed

levy, tanaka, and yachi would damage their instrument before an important comp

colorguard as section hangouts all the time

i will say it again, daichi on rifle I WILL BUST A NUT

battery boys flirt with colorguard bc battery are a bunch of fuckboys, dont date battery !!

ushijima probably knows drummers from other top schools

futakuchi probably smokes w/ suna and daishou

suna, daishou, kai and atsumu teach the first years how to roll a blunt

yukie always trips over the prop

senior-less run was a mess

THE SENIOR HUGLINE WAS ALSO A MESS ;-;

me crying over bestie bo graduating

senior letters aochzk <//3

band camp the next year, the seniors comeback to watch our cookout performance with jazz camp

goshiki would write a two page senior letter to kiyoko and ushijima

goshiki, inuoka, hinata, yamaguchi, kogane, and kindaichi would cry the hardest when the seniors leave

kenma and asahi probably threw up on the field once

kyotani got placed on bus two (battery/colorguard bus 🤢🤢) bc he didnt turn in his letters on time

i made fun of him but then forgot to turn in next months letter and got placed next to him

atsumu and suna blast music on their speaker and battery drums on their drumpads

not fun </3

colorguard spraying setting spray and getting concealer on the seats <///3

overall, we're all one big family minus battery lmao fuck yall /j

[jmeddows2]

Purple Thunder finale (Roger Taylor Series)

(present/old) Roger Taylor series

Notes: ATTENTION: it is here! after almost half a year, the finale of purple thunder is here! If you’re still sticking around, thank you, I love you! I hope this one isn’t too cringey for you all, it sure as hell is for me! I hope it lives up to your expectations (at least a little). As always let me know how you like it, shoot me a dm, ask, anything. I love hearing from you. 

PS. this contains song lyircs of: The Pretty Reckless - Kill me;  Greta van Fleet - Safari Song & Taylor Swift - Call it what you want to. 

english is not my first language, sorry for mistakes. Also, I didn’t proof read much - bare with me please. 

Words: 4,3+k

Warnings: cursing? none else, it’s fluffy and cringey, whatever ;’)

*flashback to two years ago*

"Not very subtle is it?“

"What are you saying?“ you looked up to see Rufus looking over shoulder to read along the scribbled lines written on your notepad.

"drugs, bars, backseats of cars, blowing boys?“ he read chuckling his way to take a seat on the couch beside you.

"It‘s Rock 'N Roll what do you expect“ you laughed pulling your feet up to rest them on his thighs.

"Now who‘s the child of a fucking rock legend out of the two of us?“

"You know, if I didn‘t know any better, I‘d say it was you“ Rufus pinched your leg before bringing them to the ground. "Enough talking let‘s get mortal or I‘m going to die“ you jumped up and it wasn‘t two hours later that you were in the bathroom of a club fooling around with a random dude. Living the life of a rockstar to its fullest potential, for once not thinking about what the media would have to say the next morning. You didn‘t give a fuck. With one swift motion you pulled out a little plastic bag of coke and sloppily made a line along the countertop. Hands trembling in anticipation and the guys lips were nibbling on your neck.

"You got any money on you?” he brought his hot wet lips from your neck and handed you a crumbled up 5 pound note that he kept in the front pocket of his jeans. You used the money to press one nostril down and snorted hard.

"Fuck you‘re so hot“ the guy said while having his eyes on you by looking in the mirror.

"want some?“ you offered, but he declined. Another sloppy line and a make out session later, you stumbled out. It was a hard life. It sucked. But you would never let anyone know. Chasing a high but falling down even lower and hitting the ground. City. Concert. Drinks. Drugs. Sex. Meltdown. Repeat. 

The rare nights you spent alone in your hotel room were the worst. You felt small, like you didn‘t belong, being not able to tell fantasy from reality, seeing how far you could go. Zoning out, even if it was just for half an hour was a relief, not being yourself. Not having to be yourself. You stomped back into the room. Your drummer, Sid to your left having some blonde chick pressed up to a wall and he fist bumped you. A sort of "congratulating“ each other on the many times you both got lucky. Hot bodies all over the place and it felt like if one more person entered the club, it would have exploded. You felt your high slowly fade, trying to match names to the people you encountered all while searching for someone you personally knew. Long blond hair at the bar. Rufus. "Heyyy“ you slurred at him as he turned around. A pint of beer in his hand.

"Y/N! You don‘t look too good honey“

"What a gentleman you are“ your eyes were still blown and glassy. He looked quite concerned.

"I‘ll take you to the hotel love“ he touched your arm in a caring gesture.

"Don‘t take it the wrong way Ruf, like no offence, but I don‘t want to have sex with you“

"Not like that“ he laughed. "You look like you‘ve had enough for tonight. You‘ll thank me tomorrow.“ You felt stupid. Embarrassed. Being escorted out of the place like a child being dragged out of the candy store. Rufus put his arm around you to stabilize you, walking back to the hotel. As you began to sober more up, the embarrassment reached such height that you felt like dying right then and there. No one was supposed to see you like this. See you break, but the steps in the bright lobby of the hotel were the hardest. You could feel the walls you built up around you slowly but surely break. And once those walls are torn down. It‘s all over. "In you go lovely“ Rufus held the blanket up for you to slide in. "Thank you.“ "You‘re very welcome Ms. L/N“ he smiled. Rufus walked over to the little fridge to get a bottle of water. "Here you‘ll thank me tomorrow“ he handed it over to you. "Need anything else?“ he asked while tying his hair up. "I‘m good, I think“ you weakly smiled. Rufus startled you by jumping into the bed next to you. "You‘re not alright and being the good friend I am, I‘m here to listen and help.“ Silence followed and it felt like eternity. "I‘m fucked up“ your small voice filled the room. "You‘re just enjoying yourself“ he assured you. "Am I really? Who am I kidding? I made a complete fool out of myself once again." he could sense that he assumed wrong in the tone of your voice. "How do you mean?" he asked getting under the sheets. "It‘s all fun and games. Then I‘m alone again and everything gets worse.“ "And you feel guilty because you‘re cheating on Josh.?“ "I‘m the worst person, but no. Not entirely.“ Rufus reached out his hand to brush your hair back a bit, signaling that he was listening. "It‘s better now that you‘re here, because if you weren‘t, I would not know what to do with myself. Sometimes I can‘t stand myself. Most times, to be precise. I feel like a wreck. And I keep telling myself to not go back into these dark places. But still I keep going back.“ A silent tear made it‘s way down your cheek. "From now on and always. No matter when you need me, call me, facetime me, no matter the time. I know better said than done, but you‘re my friend. And friends don‘t give up on each other like that. You don‘t ever have to feel like you‘re alone in this. We‘re family.“ he pulled you closer to him, your head almost resting on his chest. With a steady breathing you slowly drifted off to sleep. *end of throwback*

Much time had passed. Time in which you felt the way you typically felt. Alone. Having broken up with Josh quite some time ago. Josh immortalizing you in one of his songs, describing how you left him, when he proposed: " Do you remember what I said, When I got down on my knees, Gotta get your lovin' baby, Lovin's all I need, Don't make me beg now baby, Don't make me bleed, I gave you all a man could give, And you still walked out on me" Roger has gone on tour. His wife in tow to your surprise. Every picture posted of them together made you feel smaller, the way he had his arm around her, made you doubt your situation around him. Tired of picking up a fight, sometimes ignoring his secret calls, you isolated yourself. The album, a declaration of love, that was supposed to be released soon, was now on the verge of being filled with songs that would make you feel the hurt and pain as a listener. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and Roger was coming home. The situation was uncertain. How would you deal with it? Did his flame of undying love find its way to burn with even more passion for his wife again? And what light did he see you in now? The 20-year-old something that’s been destroying his happy 10 years of marriage? Deep inside you hoped he wouldn’t, but to be honest, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he stayed with her. Maybe it was all just a rebellious phase. Trying to feel young again. Getting revenge on something stupid SHE did. The doorbell rang. It could be anyone, you thought to yourself. As you opened, a sheer wave of bliss washed over. His blue eyes shone like never before, you swore you saw stars in them. His hair was ruffled, well who’s wouldn’t be after a 20-hour flight. No exchange of words, just shoulders crushing into one another, fulfilling the tightest hug you’d ever felt. Once again, this is what home felt like and it’s been so long that all the doubts you had about him were crushed in a millisecond. "I missed you so much” Roger breathed into your neck. "I missed you more” you cried, your hand on the back of his head, fumbling with his white locks. “I don’t think that’s possible, my love.” he rasped. God you missed hearing the roughness of his voice, all close up and personal. When he pulled back, his nose gently brushed yours and he kissed you tenderly. "How are you feeling” you asked, helping him get his bags in, the majority of them already being shipped to Cornwall, to a house of his you haven’t got to see yet. "I’m toast” he huffed, letting himself fall into the comfy black sofa in the living room. “Is there maybe something I can help you with? A massage? Something else?” you tried to sound as seductive, slowly but surely getting settled on his lap. If he really didn’t get with his wife on tour he must be exploding by now, set aside all the secret wank sessions. As you grinded down on him, there was nothing. No reaction whatsoever. You tried some more until Roger stopped you.

"Sorry love, so sorry.” his fingers glided gently up and down your arm. "Has something happened? Have you changed your mind about us?” “No no, I’m just really exhausted I can’t quite ....you know.. get it up. I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing” "No Rog it’s not, don’t be sorry.” You assured him by kissing both of his cheeks one after the other, making him smile. "Anything else I can do for you instead?” you asked, ready to fulfill all his wishes. "I just want to be as close to as possible” He wanted affection, affection he had to go without for several months, except for the occasional social media schmoozing with his wife. Still sat in his lap, you cuddled tighter into him, cheek on cheek. His breathing was now more steady and peaceful, you could feel him relaxing, his tense muscles from drumming suddenly didn’t feel as tense any more. You two stayed like that for half an eternity, well a decent amount of hours, but it felt like minutes and before you knew it, the sun was setting. "Why don’t you move in with me?” Roger asked out of the blue, with you still on top of him. You looked into his eyes, questioning if it was a good idea. "Don’t worry, I already filed for divorce. The paperwork should be through pretty soon.” he assured you. God. That was it, now you knew he was for real. And hell would break loose if the media found out. For the media it already was bad that another woman was the reason for Roger Taylor’s divorce. But an age difference of 49 years would be the last straw - a real scandal. "I don’t know Rog. I don’t want to give up this place.” your apartment has been your rock over the years, you inspirational little cave with the perfect view.  "You don’t have to give this up.” He brought his hand up to your cheek, lifting your head so you were looking into his eyes once more. "I just want you with me all the time. I don’t want to go a day without you anymore” You melted into his touch. Every move he made, every word he said, every look he gave you, made your heart flutter. You’ve never felt this deep for anyone else before. So you nodded. "Is that a yes?” he asked with a dumb smile on his face. "Yes” His lips were on yours again. They felt like the inside of a rose, passionate, soft, and and a high of pure happiness rushed through both of you As the night grew cold, the two of you got comfy and especially cuddly. Finally together again. Roger cuddled into your chest. He needed this after months and months of going without it. It was only a matter of minutes, mixed with playing with strands of his hair and kisses to his forehead, that he fell asleep. His soft snoring let you know that he was very well enjoying every little thing. "The man who used to move under meat?“ you gave Roger a funny look. "Don‘t look at me like that“ Roger laughed having put on his stupid "joke face” but you loved it. He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "t’was a guy at our parties, he would just lay on tables, being naked and covered in food that he was basically invisible. Once someone tried to grab something he wiggled, and they were startled. It was so fun watching“ you laughed at his story and cuddled closer to him. Roger’s Queen partying stories were the best, but thinking of all the girls he must have been with made you feel jealous and for some reason insecur as well.  "I can imagine. How many girls have you really been with?“ curiosity took over you. "Not as many as I‘d would let everyone know“ he chuckled. "Yeah yeah... bet it must be thousands“ you tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Well, then I have to disappoint you, my love“ you felt his hot breath on your cheek before he pressed a soft kiss to it. "And it certainly also wouldn’t have nearly been as many if you were there.“ "Roger we both know that‘s not true.“ "See, that‘s a lie“ he dipped down to kiss your lips. "Once we get to Cornwall I have something special to give you“ "What is it Rog?“ you whined still curled up in the warm bed drinking in the warmth that Roger left behind. "You first better get your beautiful bottom out of bed“ he called from the bathroom. "My bottom is here and ready start the day“ Roger finished shagging his hair out to style the way you liked it the most. Messy. He turned around and grabbed your face gently and closed the space between the two of you. "Morning breath“ you mumbled against his lips. "I‘ve had worse“ he mumbled back, a hint of mint made itself into your mouth. "Why do I believe you?“ you laughed, pulling away and letting your hand glide through his hair. "You look so good“ you looked at him in awe. "You know just how to flatter an old man“ "Don‘t. Say. That. Mr.. Taylor.“ you said in between placing kisses all over his face. His eyelashes fluttered while laughing. He was a sight to see. "You seriously better get ready now“ he gently slapped your bum and left you to yourself to take a shower. You put on some light makeup, comfy clothes and you both were off for a 5 1/2 hour drive in Roger’s black Range Rover. Thank god for Bluetooth speakers, much to Roger’s annoyance you blasted the Hot Space album, as well as any other Queen song he hated. "How do you even know these songs? You know every single word, might have to question your taste in music” Roger laughed. When he finally gave up, he joined you in singing along, harmonizing and trying to hit all the high notes just likehe did 40 years ago. To your surprise he still managed most of them. His hand almost never left your thigh, except for when it was time to shift gears. Yours usually rested on top of his. Nothing could ever compare to this.  When you arrived at his enormous mansion you were once again speechless. He showed you around to get settled once again and it made your mouth run dry, especially seeing all the golden discs and awards he stored all around the house and on the walls. Most of them were settled in the living room. "Can’t wait for you to contribute to the collection” Roger hugged you from behind while you admired them all. "Me?” You laughed. "Yeah of course you. I’ve never won a Grammy in my golden years. Only the honorable one 100 years later” his laugh vibrates on your neck. "Here” he handed you a black box. “Told you I’ve got something for you, something really special” You opened the box and it was one of the cymbal necklaces he was recently selling. Filled with joy, you jumped up on him and he gladly caught you in his arms, giving him a long kiss.  "Thank you, thank you so much!! I love it Roger” "But wait wait, my love” Roger put you down again. "This one was made out of the first cymbals I ever played with. And I wanted you to have it and kind of be a part of it,have a part of it, if that makes sense?” You had tears in your eyes, knowing that this part of his drums made such an impact on his life and him now giving it to you, even if was small, owning a piece of his early days. It made you feel special.. On the back, the words "right till the end, Love, Roger” were engraved. It was the best present ever, besides of course, having the love of your life all to yourself. "I also have something for you” you said, not having this situation exactly planned through, because of your anxiety he wouldn’t like it. "I had a lot of time to spend while you were gone“ "Doing only good stuff I hope“ he chuckled looking at you, his eyes shining from under his long lashes. "Come with me“ you took his hand into yours and guided him to the crackling fireplace. Roger sat down in his red leather chair, one that never left its place since moving in in the late 70s. You sat opposite him on the red, equally old fashioned carpet in front of the fire place, clutching your pitch black guitar tightly. "It’s not as awesome as your present, but here we go” A nervous feeling rushed through your body. Your slightly trembling fingers started picking the first chords. Seeing the way his eyes blinked at you, you knew he was listening closely. The song was called 'Call it what you want to’ and every single word was true. Nobody has heard from you for months, nor your fans, nor the media, at least  not since the Grammys. And Roger on the other hand, he loved you like you were brand new. He knew about your rocky, hard, and scandalous past, your battles with all things that are toxic and your battles with yourself. Still, he didn’t back down, he stayed by your side, no matter what. He built a fire just to keep you warm while everyone outside was throwing ice at you, trying to get to you. He could be trusted, a feeling not only his embrace let you know, but the way he treated you. His bad jokes always made you laugh, in fact the worse they were, the more you loved him. The “joke face” he gave you, when he expected you to laugh was just adorable and made you fall in love all over again.  When the song was finished, Roger had tears in his eyes. “Wow” he breathed. "I don’t think.. I don’t think anyone’s ever written a song about me, at least not one like this. It’s so beautiful. I couldn’t ask for a better present from the most beautiful girl in the world” your guitar was quickly on its stand again and you in Roger’s lap. "Thank you thank you thank you” he breathed kissing you all over. "It was a pleasure Mr. Taylor” you smiled. The hardest part was get to come. Releasing the songs which all evolved around yours and Roger’s relationship. Clearing all the rumors. Revealing your relationship. Meeting his children. But it all would come with time and didn’t matter at the moment.

 What he wanted though, was you meeting his children, as fast as possible. He was not one to keep something so special hidden from them, for as he long as he already did. So, one beautiful Saturday evening they all came to visit, you had even cooked a treat they all loved, but it was just how you expected it to be, at least part of it. Rufus came first, in tow with him Tigerlily and Lola. Roger and you were standing at the door, ready to greet them, but it seemed as if Lola still didn’t warm up to the idea of her dad dating someone so much younger, almost her age. Tigerlily hugged you right away, she was probably the most open minded one of them all. “It’s so good to finally meet you, I’m a big fan of yours!” Tigerlily giggled, handing over some wine and flowers as presents. “We’re going to kill this one later” she winked, holding up the bottle. “For sure” you smiled at her. Felix and Rory joined the party a bit later. It was kind of weird that they were a bit older, but you managed and as it seemed as if they didn’t have any problem with it either.

Tigerlily and you kept quoting vines and laughing at memes after dinner, to which Roger only shook his head, all while laughing about how good you were getting along. Your hand was casualy on the table when Roger cupped it with his, finally intertwining your fingers.  “Really?” Lola said out of nowhere, looking down at your joined hands. She got up and walked out of the room. “Lola” Roger called after her. Him, Felix, and Rory went after her. Your worst fear became reality. They didn’t accept you. You couldn’t blame her though, thinking you would react the same way if your dad showed up with someone much younger. 

“Don’t worry” Tigerlily assured you. “It’s just a lot for her to handle right now.” She hugged you tightly, rubbing your back. “Yeah , she needs time to warm up. Hasn’t even warmed up to Sarina entirely, it’s going to be alright.” Rufus said, taking a sip from his beer. He was right and you would be willing to give her as much time as she needed.

Nearly half an hour passed when they all came back into the dining room. “Y/N?” Lola stood in the door. “Can we talk?” she pointed towards the other room. You followed her. “Look, I’m sorry, that this is might be weird for you. I totally understand, but I really love your dad I-“ “I know” she interrupted. “And he really loves you. It just.. it just freaks me out a bit. And knowing my dad I know no one will ever be good enough for him, he’s the best dad ever” she explained. “ I believe you, he speaks highly of you all the time” “Well, he also does speak highly of you all the time, maybe I’m just a bit jealous that he won’t spend as much time with us anymore as he’s got you now.” Lola sounded sad and a bit disappointed. “ I won’t allow that” you assured her. “You know... I’d never keep him from seeing you all. As much as I love him, I want him to be happy and seeing as today went, it was pretty fun and a joy having you all around. Talking, eating, drinking.” “You’re right” Lola said. 

“I’m so sorry for making a scene.” “Don’t be sorry, it’s alright! But next time something bothers you, let’s just talk it out! I’ll always have an open ear for you!” “Awwe lovie, thank you. You know, you’re pretty cool actually. Having a female rockstar in the family makes for a great change” She admitted. “ You’re pretty awesome too! Love your photography” you smiled at her. “May I give you a hug?” Lola asked you to which you nodded. Right in this moment Roger went to look after the two of you and when he saw you hugging your problems out, his heart swell. He backed away quickly though, just fast enough for none of you to notice he was there.  “Let’s get back to the others now, or they’ll think we killed each other” you joked and you both went back to join the rest, to enjoy some desert. It was 2 am when Roger’s children left after everyone helped cleaning up. They really were all about teamwork and you adored them. 

“I had a great evening” you said to Roger while changing into something more comfortable. “I’m glad you had a good time, because I was really enjoying myself.. Except for the little.. Lola thing” he said, giving your shoulder a kiss. “oh, that’s alright, we get along now. What did you say to her anyway, when you went after her?” You asked him. “Oh just that you really put much work into this get together, you know.. with the cooking and all. And that I love you and you’re very important to me and that this is just how the future is going to be.” his reasonings were making you smile. “Your kids are awesome. You did a great job raising them.” “I know I did” he chuckled. “Can’t wait to meet them again” you said more quietly, brushing your thumb along his cheek. “Hold your horses little lady, you’ll see them soon enough. I love having them around y’know? We usually have a family meeting once a week, talking about what everyone is up to” “Sounds awesome” you loved the idea of them spending more time with the two of you, dining, drinking, having a laugh, going on family vacations. Family. The moment Roger saw you interact with his kids, having inside jokes with them, you and Tigerlily even arranging a date to go out shopping, he knew he made the right decision. Giving his whole heart to you and you loving him right back. He knew it already, someday, when the time was right, when the media would quiet down a little more, he’d make you “officially” part of his family. And when that time came, you knew what your answer to his question would be. YES. 

taglist: @goodoldfashionedlovergirlsblog @nicola2388 @bohemiansweede @namelesslosers @rogahqueen @jennyggggrrr @queenlover05​

[hardforbenhardy]

scandal | rogerxfem!reader

summary: you and roger had been married for multiple years and now, and your relationship could not have been going better. or so you believed.

warnings: angst, cheating, basically dickhead!roger

word count: 2.8k

this was the first fanfic i ever wrote for roger, and i must say i’m kind of proud of it! it’s pretty sad but yakno. there’s a lil snippet at the end some may recognise because this oneshot was inspired a lot by the song ‘burn’ from hamilton! hope you enjoy :) (it starts as a news article btw)

i’ve decided i will make a part 2 if this gets 100 notes :)

Queens Second Scandal?

Just after the release of the bands hit Scandal, drummer Roger Taylor has been caught getting cosy with a mystery woman, despite being in a 6 year marriage with wife Y/N Y/L/N at the time. With Queen being on hiatus after the Magic Tour of '86, Taylor formed new rock band, The Cross. With the band having been on a 3 month tour of the UK and Germany, his wife was left to her own devices; evidently giving the member free reign of the well-known strip clubs around Germany and nearby cities. Being the 'sex on legs' of Queen, all fans were sceptical of the idea of Taylor finally settling down with marriage and children – seemingly, being correct to do so after pictures have recently been released of the musician leaving a nightspot with one of the workers of a German sex club, arm in arm, getting into a taxi.

You were reluctant to ever marry Roger; marriage was never something you expected to happen in your future, having commitment issues after your first relationship left you single for a majority of your life. Men seemed to be the bane of your existence; every man you had tried to get close to turned out to be lowlife scum who either tried to use you or just turned out to be downright arrogant. So, of course meeting Roger Taylor instantly put you off him; he was cocky, conceited and far too overconfident in his charm and good looks. Yet you could not deny that there was something about him that made him so alluring, meaning you fell very hard very quickly. He proposed on your one year anniversary in the year of '82, by taking you on a romantic holiday to the country you had been wanting to go to for years; Italy. He had it all planned out;

"Roger, you remembered" You breathed, chuckling softly in disbelief that he had done all this for you. You held the delicate, flowy material in your hand, admiring the floral patterns that canvased the dress. You had seen a summer dress in a shop down the street from your hotel a few days before, and obsessed with it the moment it had met your eyes. Your favourite part was the blue floral print; there were bellflowers, bunneras, columbines, desert bluebells, irises, sea hollies – all of which contrasted with the background white. The neck cut was rebelliously low, but you knew it would look ravishing when on your body – it was like the dress was made just for you. There was one problem; it cost far too much for you to afford, and after spending all the money on this trip, you didn't want Roger to have to splash out again. "I thought we agreed it was far too expensive?"

"Y/N, you are the love of my life – I'm always going to splash out on you when I get the chance. And it's our anniversary, you deserve it for being the most incredible girlfriend I could ask for" Roger cooed, making you blush and face the ground, only for Roger to place his hand gently under your chin to lift your head to face his once again. You stared into his piercing, ocean eyes before saying "Thank you" and planting a soft, passionate kiss against his rosy, plump lips.

"Well, go try it on! I want to see my sexy girlfriend in the dress I spent hundreds on" Roger laughed, pushing me into the bathroom to try on the dress. Let's just say, he got to see his girlfriend with the dress for about 5 minutes before it was off again.

He finished the romance-filled day with an evening boat ride down the Grand Canal; the idea having been on your bucket-list since you were a teenager and discovered a thing called romance. Having voiced this to Roger multiple times during late-night drunken conversations and post-sex pillow talks, you weren't shocked he had picked this to be way to end the day. It was more the action after the ride that rendered you speechless. While you turned around to admire the view behind you, Roger had found himself knelt on one knee in front of you, ring box in hand. So of course, when you turned, you were met with the one image you had only dreamt of.

"Y/N, will you make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?" Those words alone had you hooked and you were sure, in that moment, you wanted to spend the rest of your life with this man. There was nothing that could change that decision.

That was until the events of this morning. After being sent by Freddie down to the studio reception to collect the weekly paper, you didn't quite expect something so disturbing to be plastered on the front page. The paper fell to the ground out of your hand, unable to read on. Your mind repeated the words 'getting cosy with a mystery woman' over and over, completely unable to comprehend what you had actually just read; Roger cheated on you?

Of all the ways you saw your relationship crumbling, cheating was not one of them. Of course you knew Roger was previously known for sleeping around, he was basically a fairground for all the groupies. But he had made it very clear; he would never, ever in a million trillion years cheat on you. And you believed him. You seriously, truly believed him.

You bent down to scrunch the paper tightly in your grasp, before storming up the stairs back into the studio. You threw the door open, your hand clenching tighter and tighter around the news second by second. Unsurprisingly, you immediately drew the attention of everyone in the room; Brian and his current girlfriend were slumped on the couch talking about astrophysics, Freddie was pacing around the room warming up his vocals, John was sat cross-legged on the floor tuning his bass, while Roger sat at his drum kit banging the melody to recently released Scandal. They had all clearly noticed the streams of mascara-stained tears cascading down your cheeks and your increased breathing rate as they all stopped in their tracks to look up at you. Though your eyes remained solely on Roger; his head shot up in an instant, stopping the beats he was making to jump out of his chair and make his way over to you.

"Y/N, love, are you okay? What happened?" He fretted, his arms searching up and down your body for any sign of injury or physical harm that may have caused your sudden outburst. John was also quick to his feet, handing you a tissue to wipe away the tears, but you angrily declined telling him to fuck off. Admittedly, John did nothing to deserve such a reaction, in fact he deserved completely the opposite reaction; but you were too choleric to even entertain the idea of being polite to people. "Y/N, what on earth has gotten into you?"

"You said you would never do that to me." I breathed, scoffing at his utter arrogance of the situation. He knew exactly what he had done, and you knew it, but you knew he wouldn't admit it without you confirming you knew. "You promised"

"What are you talking about?" He questioned, furrowing his brows in confusion, looking you up and down. You couldn't bring yourself to say it, knowing you would easily breakdown if they even touched the tip of your tongue. Instead, you shoved the paper harshly against his chest, making him stumble back slightly and grab onto the crumpled paper you had slammed into him. He began to unscrew it open, reluctant as he could see exactly where this was going. His eyes scanned over the first sentence, and you noticed them glass over. "I'm talking about that"

He grasped onto your lower arm, yanking you into the room next to the studio, as to keep the commotion away from the rest of the band; it being a private matter of course. Your anger only grew at the fact he had the audacity to seem irritated at you right now, he was the one who had cheated on you. You stormed to the other side of the room, turning away from Roger as you could barely even look at him. You leant forward on the office desk, hanging your head low as you tried your hardest not to carry on crying. There was a choking silence filling the room, eating away at the tension of the atmosphere, which was quickly broken by Roger. "You seriously believe this? The tabloids always lie, they take every chance they can to twist a story, because it makes them money. Y/N, you know I would never do that to you, I-I love you" His voice cracked saying the three final words, alerting to you Roger wasn't angry – he was ashamed, upset, distraught even.

"Do you? Do you really? Because that German hooker seems to have a different opinion" you spat, turning around to finally face Roger and pointing you finger firmly against his chest. You did your best you could to avoid meeting Roger's sorrowful eyes, but failed miserably when your eyes flickered up to witness tears rolling down his crimson cheeks. You almost felt conscience-stricken and apologetic; how badly you just wanted to give into your wifely instincts and wipe the tears away, caressing his cheek gently and holding him tightly in your arms for comfort. That was until you remember exactly why he was like this. He had betrayed you. Roger urgently lifted the paper back to this view, scanning over the page even more for some kind of indication of what you meant. That's when he saw it:

"[Roger] had spent the whole evening in the club, indulging in the performances and everything we had to offer – he seemed extremely stressed, and was most likely looking for a form of relief that his wife was unfortunately unable to provide at the time" - The worker, seen leaving the nightspot with Roger, has explained – "I had asked, ensured both his wife and him had given full consent before he took me home and we had an eventful evening. I can't deny; he lives up to the expectations of the nickname."

"You told her I had given consent for you to go fuck another woman? Are you out of your mind? She has told the whole world how you brought this girl into our bed. In clearing your name, she has ruined my life. You are always so paranoid how people perceive you – you, you, and you. Never me, never our relationship, never our two children. Did you ever stop to think how this might affect me, how this might affect Felix and Rory?" You cried, struggling to even say the names of your two children.

"Y/N, I swear this isn't how it looks-"                          

"Isn't how it looks? Roger, she made a fucking statement saying you had fucking sex – and you told her it was okay?! How can you say this isn't how it looks?" You sneered, getting closer and closer to Roger every second, only for him to stand there rendered silent. He didn't know what he could say to fix the situation, considering you wouldn't let him get a word in edgeways without having some form of comeback, although he certainly didn't blame you for the way you were acting. Therefore, he let you speak; he let you pour out every emotion before he would even try to make a contribution. "You know, I saved every letter you wrote me. From every single tour; The Game tour, Hot Space, The Works, even the Jazz tour when we weren't even dating. And from the moment I read each one, I knew you were mine – you said you were mine. D-do you know what V said when we saw your first letter arrive? She told me how she could see how much you truly loved me, apparently John called it to. Told me to be careful, he'll do what it takes to succeed. I re-read each of those letters every single night when you would be out recording, or drinking with the boys, or doing a press conference. I was scanning and searching for answers in every line, for some kind of sign, that you still loved me. You want to know why I believe it, why I believe her? Because for the past year, you barely ever put the effort in. You were never home; you would turn down sex way too often for someone with the nickname 'sex on legs'; you always found excuses for me to stay home while you hung out with guys; y-you took every chance you could to sleep on the couch; we'd argue way more than usual. That's why I believe it. Because as I kept falling in love with you every day, you started falling out of love with me" Your voice was barely above a whisper with your last words, the tears you had been holding back finally taking their course, joining the other stale tears you cried when you first read the paper less than 10 minutes ago.

"Y/N, baby, no please don't think that. I love you, I love you so much. I will always love you with all my heart, nothing can change that. Not the boys, not the boy's wives, and certainly not some German prostitute."

"Then why did you do it?"

"Look, it's a long story and I can't explain it all right now, please can we just go home and we can sit down and have a proper talk about it all" He tried to comfort you, rubbing your upper arms slowly and caressingly. But those words alone stood you frozen.

"So you did do it? You slept with her? God, why did I ever trust you? From the moment I met you, I knew I would want to spend my life with you in some way or another. A-and when you proposed, on that boat ride in Italy, I knew for sure the way I wanted to spend my life with you was married, getting a family, living together – you know whole shebang. I thought it was too good to be true, and it turns out it was. I'm erasing myself from this narrative; let the journalists wonder how Y/N reacted when you broke her heart. Roger, the world has no right to my life; they have no right to our bed. And when the time comes, you can explain to the children all the torment and humiliation you put their mother through – when will you learn that they're your legacy; I'm your legacy?" You practically spat, not even feeling a hint of sadness anymore but rather just pure resentment and fury for the man, all the care and love you held for Roger had dissipated. How dare he put you through such distress when all you had done was love and support him through everything he did; he had the audacity to make you feel like you meant nothing to him as if he hadn't spent the last 10 years with you.

"Y/N, please, give me a chance to expla-"

"No, you don't get that chance. You lost that chance when you took the girl back to your fucking apartment and fucked her fucking brains out." You breathed, before shoving past Roger's paralysed body, approaching the door. You were almost resistant to walk out, considering you knew all the boys would be sat out there – most likely having heard the conversation that had just took place taking into account you weren't exactly quiet through any of it. The only thing that tipped you over the edge was the fact you could not stay in the room any longer with that cheater. You turned to face Roger one more time, seeing him stood there more fragile than you had ever seen before, before pulling your ring off your finger and placing it on the table that was beside you. Roger's eyes widened at the sight, tears pricking his eyes once again as his breath hitched in his throat. "N-no, please, keep the ring on, don't take it off."

"Hey, Rog, at least she got a good orgasm though" You mumbled, sarcasm running sharply through your tone before opening the door.

"Y/N, please no. Y/N wait-"

And with that, you were out the door.

[the--blackdahlia]

Talk to Me (Slight Tommy x Nikki)

Title: Talk to Me

Summary:  Tommy needs someone to help him.

Warnings: Drinking, Alcohol-related issues, language

AN:  I honestly don't know where this came from. Sorry guys.

Tommy didn’t have a problem with drugs. Yeah, he might have back in the 80’s, but so did everyone else. But everytime he turned around, someone was telling him he had a problem. An attitude problem. An anger problem. A drinking problem. Yeah, he would admit that he was a bit hot headed, and yeah, he did mouth off when he needed to be quiet, and yeah, he did enjoy a drink, but they weren’t problems. He had them all under control.

That’s where there was a video out there circulating of Brittany freaking out and calling 911 while Brandon stood over him after having just knocked him out. Because Tommy totally had everything under control. That’s why Pamela took every chance to jab at him in interviews. That’s why Heather left him in the first place.

Yeah, Tommy had everything under control…

“T?” Tommy heard a voice outside of his studio. How did anyone know he was here? Brittany didn’t even know he was here. “T, can I come in?”

Who was that? Tommy couldn’t figure it out. He looked at the table he was sitting at, clutching an empty glass and there were, fucking hell three empty bottles. When did that happen? He didn’t think he’d been sitting there long enough to drain three bottles.

“Tommy, please?”

Wait. Was that Nikki? No, it couldn’t be. Nikki made it perfectly clear after the last show that he didn’t want to see Tommy ever again. Tommy had to figure out sometime where these hallucinations came from, because nine times out of ten, it was fucking Nikki. And that shit hurt more than when he’d see his mom or dad.

The door opened then and Tommy couldn’t stop the tears that were falling down his face as the black haired bassist made his way into the dim room. He heard the door close behind him and watched as Nikki made his way over to him, a small gasp coming from the older man as his eyes fell on Tommy.

“Jesus,” Nikki whispered.

“You’re not real,” Tommy slurred. “Go ‘way.”

“Damn it,” Nikki watched as Tommy shook the three bottles, looking for more of the liquid. “You’ve been in here for two days T. They’re all empty.”

“Nah,” Tommy shook his head. “Two hours tops.”

“No,” Nikki told him. “You have been here for two days. Brittany called me.” Tommy looked up at him. He looked different than the Nikki’s he normally saw. Sometimes it would be a young guy hiding behind a mass of black hair, telling Tommy to drink more, it’ll be fun. Sometimes it was a much older version, telling Tommy how much he hated spending all this time with him, and he never wanted to see him again. That one always hurt. He liked the younger one better.

“My hallucinations know who she is now?” He asked. Nikki looked surprised for a moment.

“Fuck,” Nikki sighed. He reached out and grabbed Tommy’s arm, placing Tommy’s trembling hand in his. “Your hallucinations ever touch you before?”

“N-no,” Tommy shook his head. “But you can’t be real. You hate me.” He went to pull his hand away, but Nikki held onto it like a vice, trying to keep Tommy anchored to the here and now.

“I don’t hate you. I have never hated you,” Nikki told him. “I love you. You know I do. I just hate the fucking demon you let possess you.” Nikki used his free hand to grab one of the bottles sitting on the table. “You let this control you Tom.”

“No I don’t,” Tommy shook his head. “I have it under control.”

“Then why don’t you remember that you’ve been here two days?” Nikki asked. “Do you remember the last time you ate? Do you remember the last time you picked up your drumsticks? Do you even remember coming in here?”

Tommy didn’t want to answer. He just wanted to get out of here. He had everything under control and he didn’t fucking need Nikki poking holes in his theory.

“Tommy, I can’t lose you to this,” Nikki told him, his voice softer and...shit, was he crying? “Do you think I want to see on the news that you died because of this? Do you think I want to get a call from Brittany or even fucking Vince telling me that you choked on your own vomit and fucking died?”

“Nikki…”

“Addiction isn’t just a heroin needle and a line of coke Tommy. It’s a bottle of Jack, Jim, and Jose. You can talk to me.”

And that’s what broke Tommy. That’s what broke the walls he was putting up and let the tears flow freely. Nikki pulled him into his chest, letting Tommy sob into his shirt.

“How do I stop?” Tommy asked. “I don’t know how to stop.”

“Let’s start by getting out of the studio,” Nikki told him. “Let’s get you a shower, and some food. I know a place you can go where they’ll help you, and I’ll help Brittany get the alcohol out of the house.”

“But I’ll fuck up again. I always do.”

“Not if you have a good support team behind you,” Nikki told him. “I know that not everyone can just give it up like I did. But I’m going to help you. You’re not alone T.” He kissed Tommy’s forehead.

“And you’re real…” Tommy just said, trying to make sure that his brain kept that in mind.

“Very real,” Nikki told him. “And I’m not going anywhere.” Tommy nodded and let Nikki help him out of the dim room. He cringed as the bright light hit him, but it was just natural sunlight. He could hear Neena and Wickey barking, wanting to go to him. He could hear Brittany ask Nikki if he was okay.

“He will be,” Nikki told her. “But he’ll need help. And we’re going to help him.”

Everything else seemed to blur. The shower, the food, the ride in Nikki’s car to the clinic. Tommy wanted it to work this time. He wanted to see his boys with sober eyes. He wanted to play his drums again. He wanted to make music.

“You know,” Nikki told him as they drove towards the place Nikki believed in, the place that helped him more times than he could count. “Mick said he wouldn’t mind playing again. And I’ve been talking with Netflix about picking up our story. Vince told me being solo isn’t the same anymore. So, if you do this, we could do some music for it.”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded. Nikki reached out and squeezed his hand.

“I’ll be waiting here for you when you need me,” Nikki told him and Tommy only realized then that they had parked in front of the rehab. “They’re expecting you. They’re going to take good care of you.”

“What if I mess up again?” Tommy asked.

“Accidents happen,” Nikki told him. “But you don’t let them keep you down.” Tommy nodded.

“Thanks,” Tommy mumbled. “For everything.”

“I told you that I love you, and I’m not going to stand by and watch as a bottle drowns you,” Nikki smiled at him. He watched as Tommy got out of the car, carrying the bag that Brittany had packed for him. He needed to dry out. He needed to get the tools to help him climb out of this dark pit he was in.

Tommy looked back one more time, making sure that Nikki was still there and he hadn’t drove here by himself. Nikki had gotten out of the car and walked with Tommy to the door without the drummer even knowing. Taking a deep breath, Tommy stepped through the glass doors.

Because that first step was the hardest, but with Nikki there, he knew he could do it.

Forever Tags: @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk @tommyleeownsme @marvelismylifffe @mrslogansixxpixx

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[sigmadecay]

What's your fave trivia about the Type O Negative bois?

OOOHHH HOHOHOHOHO

- Peter Steele used to have crazy stage fright. That’s why he was always drinking red wine on stage!

- Josh silver (keyboard) doesn’t do music at all anymore. He’s a paramedic in East New York now!

- Kenny Hickey (guitar) used to want to be a marine biologist.

- Kenny is/was also a big reader. He read a lot of poetry, which I didn’t expect.

- Johnny (drums) was the only one without major depression, but apparently he really liked to fight.

- Johnny moved from Brooklyn, NYC to Texas, where he teaches drum lessons now! His wife is his manager. :3

- Sal (original drummer) got kicked out of Life of Agony twice. He’s kind of an asshole.

- All of Type O was friendly with Pantera, and they even toured together. But Kenny and Dime were best friends, and his death hit Kenny the hardest.

- Johnny was the first one to get the call that Peter had died.

- Peter used to order enough Chinese food for five people, eat half of it, eat the other half two weeks later, and complain that he was getting sick.

- Kenny and Johnny still absolutely roast the hell out of Peter and it’s hysterical.

- Peter used to work at the NY Parks Department, and Kenny was a plumber/carpenter. He went to trade school.

- Kenny is 2 years older than Johnny, but they were friends as teenagers. Kenny bought Johnny a lot of concert tickets.

- Josh borrowed something insane like $6000 dollars from his mother because they didn’t have enough money to cut their first demo. This resulted in Josh’s famous line “ten bucks a minute!”

- Josh dropped out of high school. His reasoning: “what are they gonna do about it?”

- Pete was a big cat person. I think at one point he had as many as five, but I remember one was definitely named Nixon.

- Kenny is bitter about how Type O got their image (the interview for which is fucking hilarious): he kept trying to get Pete to listen to the Misfits, but apparently he only adopted the goth image “to impress girls” 😂

- Peter didn’t know how big a gay fanbase Playgirl had. He was bitter about that shit to the end lmao

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Conquista

pyrotechnic789 said: So Reader is a friend of Freddie’s who hasn’t seen her for a while and she’s in a band. But like their not big or anything they’ve just started out but their pretty good and Freddie takes the band to supporting them. Reader is the drummer, and Roger finds it really hot and is really cocky flirting with her and even though she finds him attractive she doesn’t like his cocky ness so she turns him down so he keeps trying and eventually she says yes! Xx love your work

(this is LITERALLY SO LONG I’m going to make it into a little series. Idk if it will be 2 or 3 parts yet, but I have this part finished so far, so here u GO love yall. Also pretend queen didn’t practice in surrey for this tour thx. ALSO i’ll try to get part 2 out way later tonight when i get back from work i have to close tonight and i HATE LIFE)

“If you don’t stop tapping your fingers, I’ll cut them off, Y/N.”

You startled a little, turning your head to look at Kenny, who’d just threatened you with finger amputation. Giving him a sheepish grin, you withdrew your hands and placed them under your legs, where they wouldn’t be a nuisance. Kenny sat back in his chair again, chuckling softly at you and shaking his head. “Weren’t they supposed to meet us 30 minutes ago?” Rita asked, pausing from picking at her bass lazily.

“The traffic might be bad, don’t worry about it,” you reassured her, chewing on your lip a bit. “Also, Freddie was never one for punctuality,” you added, mainly to yourself. Ted, who was on your left, heard you and snickered. He’d met Freddie before, and he knew all too well how accurate that statement was.

Ted, Freddie, and yourself went back a ways, if not a long time. You’d met when you and Ted were studying abroad together. Freddie wasn’t part of Smile then, just an avid fan, but boy, was he a singer! Sure, he was erratic and mostly untrained, but his voice could do things you’d never even dreamed of before. Also, he loved having little jam sessions with you and Ted. Ted was a skilled guitar player you’d went to high school with, and you’d been drumming since you were 10, so you all got together on off days and just played. There were never any plans for a band, seeing as you were only there for a semester, but Freddie never lost contact after you two went back to the states. In fact, once he came over for a US tour, he offered to fly you out to one of the dates, but bad timing led to that not happening.

The bad timing happened because you had started your own band (Caliber) back in the states and you were slated to play a short West coast tour as a supporting act at the same time Queen was with Mott The Hoople in 1974. You called Freddie often, however, to congratulate him any time you heard people in the industry raving about how well Queen was doing.

Freddie had definitely remembered that, so when it was time for the 1977 News of the World Tour after their album had hit the charts, you were the first one he called to ask if you could be on the bill as a supporting act for the US leg. Of course, you said yes immediately. The band did not have to be convinced very hard, Rita being the hardest egg to crack, and all it took was a promise that she could have first choice of bed or bunk.

And now you were here, waiting for them to show up at the rehearsal space they’d rented in NYC that would be your home for the next week as you all got ready for the tour. Kenny was beyond psyched to be working with Queen, Rita was mainly indifferent, and you and Ted were just excited to see Freddie again.

You heard a knock at the door, and you rose to answer it, Ted following after you down the hallway. Unlocking the door, you opened it to be greeted by a smiling Freddie, who immediately took you into his arms and hugged you tightly after giving a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s so wonderful to see you again, dear!” he enthused, swaying back and forth with you for a moment before putting you at an arm’s length. “Sorry we took longer than expected, Brian here thought he lost a bag. Took him twenty bloody minutes to remember he’d handed it to John.”

Brian, who you’d only seen before in videos on MTV, smiled apologetically and waved his hand for a moment in admittance. You smiled, giving him a quick friendly hug and introducing yourself while Freddie went on to greet Ted.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N! This here’s John Deacon,” Brian introduced, gesturing to a man with shorter hair and a very ‘wise beyond his years’ look to him. You gave him a friendly hug as well, inviting them to go ahead and head in to get used to the space. For some reason, you’d forgotten there would be a fourth one, so when a man with a slightly wavy, medium-short mop of blonde hair walked in, you blanked for a moment.

“Roger Taylor,” he said, giving you a fatally attractive smile and taking off his hat. “Y/N, right?”

“Yeah, you must be the drummer,” you said, mentally smacking yourself for forgetting him. You went in for a friendly hug, which he reciprocated, but his hand rested dangerously low on your back, and he lingered a moment longer than the rest had, excluding Freddie.

As he pulled away, he kept that same cheeky grin plastered on his face, and he shut the door behind him before you both started to walk down the hallway. “Fred’s told me a lot about you,” he said, matching your pace quite easily and walking into the large practice room with you. “His words never did you justice, now I’ve got you here.” With that, he winked at you, long lashes accentuating the act over baby blue eyes that watched you closely.

The direct flirtation made your cheeks redden a bit, but you were somewhat put off by how direct it was. After all, you’d just met him, and he was already far too confident in speaking to you like that.  A close follower of the women’s liberation movement, you weren’t about to let him exert any power over you, no matter how cute his smile or beautiful his eyes may be.

Ignoring him, you led him over to the drum riser. “Some of your people already set up your kit yesterday, mine’s over there.” You nodded to the other end of the room, which was currently being divided off with the soundproof partition installed to extend out of the wall.

“I’d like to see your set,” he said, fully aware of the double meaning it could hold as he said it. You rolled your eyes slightly, trying not to laugh at the situation.

“I don’t see why you would want to, seeing as mine isn’t nearly this…. impressive,” you admitted, looking over Roger’s extensive drum set and trying not to shrivel up with jealousy. It was like your dream set, and you envied him so much for it. He smiled genuinely this time, looking proud of his layout, and noticed that you were admiring the kick drum cover.

“You like Frank?” he asked, pointing to the robot that was featured on the cover. You nodded, recognizing him from the News of the World album cover. “Hey, if you want to play around on this ol’ thing a little bit, we could make some arrangements,” he offered. “There will be a fee, though.”

You resisted the urge to gag, instead making an unpleasant face and leaving him to his devices as you made your way over to your half of the hall. Climbing onto your throne, you made sure there were mutes on the drum heads so you wouldn’t interrupt anyone’s introductions before you started warming up a little. The rubber of the mutes was slightly unforgiving, but you still played away, in your own world behind the drum set. Roger, who had followed you to the partition but stopped there, was watching you play.

“God, look at that,” Roger muttered to Brian as he came over to watch as well. “She almost plays better than I do. That’s fucking… intense.”

“Better watch yourself, don’t want to be getting a half-chub in the middle of all of this,” Brian replied just loud enough for him to hear, giving him a quick elbow to the side before moving on and going to check out your band’s side of the room. Roger stayed, however, transfixed by your playing. He wasn’t sure whether it was just you or the situation in general, but he was starting to sweat.

“I told you she’s good,” Freddie said, coming up to rustle Roger’s hair really quick.

“Yeah,” Roger agreed, only glancing at Freddie for a moment before continuing to watch you. “She’s something, alright.

- 

PT. 2

PT. 3

PT. 4 

[thegreatlarryfisherman]

Bloom // Chapter 7: Can’t Walk

Denise takes Shannon to Trap Paris where he tries to get an inside look into our girl’s lifestyle. She doesn’t expect for him to look as deep as he does though and things end up taking the turn for the best worst.

Author’s Note: For everyone checking the album for the next Chapter’s theme, I may or may not have switched up Can’t Walk and Moonwalkers. I wrote them both on the road to Ohio but they flowed so well that I saw no point to changing them.

Warnings: Heavy smut, and drug use.

Tags: @meghan12151977 (My muse, my Queen, the amazing woman who has kept this series going) @auntiemama1, @anxiouslyyoursdidi, @babiiface16, @gottalovetheletos, @thefirethatfreezesme, @jletolove4eva

I can't see my eyes behind these shades. 

Walking into Trap Paris, I could tell Shannon was out of his league. He looked weary, he looked nervous and he clung to my hand tightly.

"Denise, my girl." Selena, the house bartender grinned. "Meghan's on the floor. You'd better say hi! Is this him?"

I pulled Shannons arm into mine and smiled proudly. "This is my Shanimal, yeah." I looked into his eyes and he smiled. I stood on my toes and kissed him. "Love you."

"Mmm love you." He softly uttered back before he looked around.

"Hit a celebratory dab?" Selena grinned and I nodded eagerly. There was smoking weed and then there was hitting dabs. She came around the bar and shouted "Meghan!"

"Is that Denise?!" I watched my friend Meghan come dancing through the crowd. "Hiiii!" She squealed as she hugged me tightly. "It's been forever!"

"It has. But I can see your face is still beat to the gods as usual!" I praised her makeup and she smiled before her eyes traveled past me. She pulled my arm and leaned over. "Who's he?"

"Shannon, this is Meghan." 

"Meghan." He repeated and she nodded as she touched his bicep and gave it a bit of a squeeze. 

"Wow, Shannon. Do you work out?"

"Whoa!" I laughed at my friends boldness even if it was all in jest. "You drinking tonight?"

"Yeah. Selena's already hit two dabs. I'm surprised she's still standing." We both looked dazedly into the crowd. 

"I think Jared Leto's over there." My heart pounded as I whipped my head backwards. No sign of the younger brother. I turned back to the girls and they were both laughing. My friends. 

"Oh hush! You say that all the time!" Meghan laughed at our friend.

"Do they not know?" Shannon frowned. 

"Know what?" Meghan asked before Selena's eyes widened. 

"Oh my god. Shannon as in...?" She pushed her fists to her lips and rocked back and forth a bit.

"Someone call a medic!" Meghan shouted playfully and Shannon's grip on my hand tightened a bit. I could tell he was nervous so I gave him a reassuring squeeze back. 

"Has Dean made it in yet?"

"Oh you mean your soul crushingly overbearing ex boyfriend? Nah. He's not scheduled to do TP duty tonight. I think he's working on the south end. He may pop in after his shift or something, but he’s not scheduled."

"That's not what he told me." I took one more look around for the other Leto brother and Dean before I guided Shannon to the back, a star struck Selena not too far behind. 

We took the stairs of the previously rundown house slowly. It had been rehabbed but the memories were still pressed between the wallpapers of the wall. I could tell Shannon was taking the environment in. "It used to be a den. That's where the Trap in Trap Paris came from. Once the homeowner got clean, she turned it into a starving artist shelter for those who are trying to recover. I lived here for two years getting back on my feet."

"That's incredible." 

"That's recovery."

"Who's the owner."

"You just met her." Selena announced. "Meghan is the sweetest recovering mentor ever."

"She was my sponsor in NA." I replied. "Her cat? Oh forget about it." I chuckled as we went down a hallway and entered an open room filled with smoke.

"Deniseeeee" I heard my name cooed from across the room. 

"Colson." I rushed to hug my old friend. "They used to call him Dope Man before recovery. Now they call him Young Man because he's a young man with big dreams."

Shannon didn't speak this time. He just shook Colson’s hand.

"Here to hit a dab girl?"

"Yeah if you don't mind." He began unpacking some things and Shannon eyed the objects around him. A bong, what looked like a blowtorch, tons of utensils, etc. 

"Take a hit baby." Colson pushed the large instrument my way. "This is some good shit. Hits hard. Lasts long."

"Yeah, yeah. You say that all the time."

"Am I ever wrong?" I lean over and take a long drag, inhaling it into my lungs and leaning back to blow out the smoke. I smiled softly and proudly as Colson fired up another. "Ready?" He looked up at Shannon who froze. "It ain't even a big boy hit. You got this."

"I don't know."

"It's not drugs. It's like weed in oil form bro. You don't get hooked but you'll feel cool." Colson was practically oozing with experience as he explained it. Shannon knelt down and looked to me. I smiled and rubbed his back reassuringly and he took his hit. I watched the clouds inside of the tube race to his lips and in seconds, it was barreling down his chest. He leaned back, coughed twice, took off his glasses and wiped his face. 

"Damn bro! You ‘bout to be high as fuck!" Colson laughed. "I don't even take hits that big!"

"Shut up, you're gonna freak him out!" Selena chuckled. 

"Is the talent ready?" We heard Meghan call up.

"Thirty seconds!!" Colson wrapped his lips around the bong and took his hit. "No pun intended bro."

"None taken." Shannon chuckled absently.

"Ooo, Colson's performing tonight. This should be a blast." Selena clapped with excitement. 

"Aye you wanna bless me with those drum skills? I'm sure Rook could take a set off." Colson grinned at Shannon who shrugged a shoulder. 

Minutes later, I was sitting in the living room surrounded by people who were in a circle surrounding the small "stage set up." Colson was giving Shannon some drum direction and Shannon kept looking at me. I smiled softly and the room began filling with noise.

"Aye what's up y'all. I'm Colson, aka Machine Gun Kelly. This is my band, Double X. We the hardest, yep yep. And tonight we have the drummer of the band Thirty Seconds To Mars on sticks!" The crowd screamed and I smiled as Shannon held up his drumsticks, the 27 shining proudly. "Ladies and gentlemen, lets go." The music started and I watched Shannon bob his head a few times before he took over.

Shannon was purely animalistic on drums. His arms slamming, hair flailing and eyes falling back erotically as he slammed each beat, his eyes on mine and his tongue out as he rocked back and forth with impact. He was beautiful. He was talented. He was mine.

Colson looked over his shoulder at the first off beat hit. It snapped me out of my daydreams. Shannon was never off beat. I noticed quickly that he was sweating more than usual and his playing was getting erratic. The rest of the band kept playing but I rose to my feet quickly rushing to Shannon's side.

Without much grace, he tumbled over to the side and was trembling. Music ceased, everything stopped and Colson and two of his band mates were rushing to his side. "Bathroom." Shannon slurred and I raced after them as they carried him to the bathroom. 

"Yo, bro's so fried though. He can't walk." Colson chuckled.

"Denise. Denise!" I heard Shannon call frantically. 

"I'm right here baby! I'm right here!" I rushed to his side as they pulled him into the lounge styled bathroom and set him on the couch near the urinals. "Thanks boys. I can handle it from here. Go play your set."

"You sure baby?" Colson lifted an eyebrow. 

"Yeah just make sure that no one gets back here." I narrowed my eyes for good measure. "No one." He nodded before he left. 

"Denise," Shannons head lulled back. 

"It's me baby. I'm here." I knelt down in front of him, grabbed tissue and placed my upper body into his lap to reach the drool hanging off his face. "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't even think you were gonna rip it that hard. I should've stopped you."

"Are you mad?" He looked over to me with his eyes glazed over with fear.

"Never, you big bear. You're just having a tough time." I smiled at him and he bit his lip. "What, do you have to throw up?"

"No." He smirked. "I'm hard."

That's my Shanimal. 

"You can't walk but you can fuck." I scoffed. "Shannon you're in no shape ready to move. You’re living your best life right now on this couch.”

"Well then, suck my cock pretty girl." He touched my hair and tingles rushed straight through me. Maybe it was the dab, maybe it was the man but I felt fluids gush out of me and into my panties as I quickly raced for his pants zipper. 

He reached between us and grabbed a hold of my nipples through the fabric of my shirt, running his thumbs against them and getting a guttural moan out of me. He pinched them and I moaned even louder. 

"Fuck, you sound so sexy." He was right. His cock was so hard it was purple and throbbing. His hips were gravitating desperately. "Please baby. Put your mouth on it."

I tentatively licked the head and he groaned, one of his big hands migrating up to seize my shoulder.

"You like that, baby?"

"Fuck yeah I do." The tip of his cock passed my lips and I took his shaft into my mouth, feeling him continue to fondle my nipple through my clothes. I moaned and he quickly pulled his cock from my mouth.

"Comere, you nasty little girl. Fucking me in the bathroom at some party." He turned me around, bending me over and smacking my ass before he quickly pulled me into his lap, spreading my legs with his. His fingers went straight to my clit and my head on his shoulder. I was already so wet that he fingered the wetness from my hole and began rubbing my clit mumbling in my ear to me.

"God you're soaked. You want my cock?"

"Yes Shannon. Always."

He spanked clit and I cried out. "Yes sir." He said in a dark tone outside my ear and I mewled desperately as he reached between our legs and pressed the thick head of his cock against my clit, guiding me to rub up against it by sliding up and down. "You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes sir. Please sir."

"Have you been a good girl?" His voice was thick with lust. I closed my eyes as he ran his cock up against me again and smacked it a bit.

"Shannon. Fucking damnit."

"Arch that fucking back." I obeyed and he slammed himself into me quickly rushing to bury my mouth in a bruising kiss. In and out, hard and fast he fucked me, lifting one of my legs to get deeper.

"Oh fuck. It's never felt this good." He muttered in my ear before squeezing my ass.

There was slamming on the door.

"Go away!" He yelled in front of us.

"Yo dawg!" Colson called out from the other side of the door. "It's fighting out here and I can't walk!"

"Don't pay attention to it." Shannon gently turned my face to his and braced my hands with his own as he slowed down his thrusts until we were staring into each other's eyes as he plunged in and out of my drenched and aching heat. I laid my head back on his shoulder as he reached one hand around and palmed my breast while kissing my neck.

"Shan."

"AYE!!" 

"I'm right here baby." He was telling me now although my vision was blurring and my knuckles turned white. He was so deep inside of me I could feel it in my stomach and when he lifted my lips, I felt his cock hit a spot inside of me that had me screaming so loud I could hear my own voice animalistic outside of my body.

"Yeah baby. Come on. Come on my cock. Come on it, Denise--shit." We both exploded into ecstasy in unison, him clutching my hips tightly in his hands as he buried my sweaty shoulder in kisses.

The door exploded open and I cried out as Shannon wrapped his arms around me to shield us from being exposed.

"Yoooooo!" Colson screamed out as he clapped his hands loudly. "No wonder you ain't answer the door! Hurry up and get dressed though, Dean's on his way down for rounds."

"Shit." I rose to my feet, reached down to the floor for my panties and pulled up my dress. "Shannon we gotta go." I said quickly but he was silent and didn’t move. I turned around and he was seated on the couch with his eyes closed, hands covering his cock from view. "Oh god." I laughed.

"You need help? I'm not touching his dick though.”

"Nah we've been through this." I came over to Shannon and pushed him a bit.

"Denise?" His eyes opened a bit.

"Yeah baby. It's me. You have to put your dick away so we can go home."

"I haven't felt this way in years."

"That's cause you high dawg!" Colson clapped happily and Shannon took one look at me before his eyes rolled back and he passed out. 

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

She’s Got A Boyfriend Anyway. (Ray Toro x Reader)

Note: This was requested by @chloethebinch - I hope you like it, my love.

PS. I haven't forgotten about all of the other requests; they’ll be here soon, i promise. x

Gerard, Mikey and Ray were sitting in the Ways’ basement, surrounded by various instruments and strewn pieces of crumbled up paper, chattering amongst themselves. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; the basement had become somewhat of an oasis for them. A place to go whenever they felt particularly inspired; if they needed to discuss something regarding My Chemical Romance; or even just to use as a haven. Point is, more often than not, the band members could be found there.

The sound of the basement door barging open and Frank’s running down the stairs startled the guys and snapped them out of their engrossment with either their instrument or their writing.

“Guys, I found us a drummer!” Frank beamed excitedly.

“Yeah?” Mikey asked, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a new band member, “Who is he?”

“She.”

“What?”

“Who is she,” Frank correct, yet Mikey still stared confusedly at him, “You asked ‘who is h’- oh, nevermind,” Frank clicked his tongue and turned to face the door, “(Y/N), you can come in!”

The moment you walked through the door, Ray, Mikey and Gerard instantly perked up and noticeably straightened their posture. As you made your way down the stairs, each of their gazes were transfixed on you, which, admittedly, made you slightly uncomfortable, but you trusted Frank and he assured you that even though they were a bit weird, they were totally harmless.

“Dibs,” Ray whispered to the brothers, who in turn both shot daggers at him. “What? It’s only fair. You guys always get the girls…”

“She’s so hot,” Mikey remarked under his breath, as you made your way closer.

“So hot,” Gerard mumbled.

Frank sniggered at his bandmates’ clear infatuation with you as he placed an arm around your shoulders.

“Guys, (Y/N). (Y/N), these are the losers I told you about. That’s Mikey and Gerard - they’re brothers – and that’s Ray,” Frank introduced, pointing at each of the guys in turn.

“Hi,” you waved, “It’s lovely to meet you all.” You smiled at Ray, making his heart flutter.

“Believe me, the pleasure is ours,” Gerard spoke up, “But, uh, if you wanna be our drummer, we’re gonna have to ask you a couple of questions first. That okay?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah, that's fine,” you responding, moving to sit down on the two-seater as the rest of the guys piled onto the three-seater, Frank ending up sitting on both the brother’s lap due to the lack of space.

For a moment, they all just stared at you without saying a word and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“So… are you guys gonna ask me anything or…?”

“OH! Yeah, yeah,” the guys reached for random pieces of paper and pen, not really intending to write anything down. They didn't even truly have any set interview questions; they just wanted an excuse to stare at you.

“Forgive them,” Frank rolled his eyes, “They haven’t gotten laid in like, a century, so being so close to a beautiful female is kinda, excuse the pun, hard for them.”

You tried your hardest to supress your laughter as his comment gained a chorus of ‘hey’s’ and curse words from the guys. Mikey and Gerard even shoved Frank off of their lap and onto the floor, where he now stayed.

“Okay, so, (Y/N), how long have you been playing for?” Gerard asked, cheeks still pink from Frank’s remark.

“For as long as I can remember. My family is very musically inclined, so my parents started my siblings and I off very young. They say that I was playing drums before I could walk,” you chuckled, which made the guys smile.

“And, uh, why do you wanna be a part of our band?” Mikey questioned.

“I’m a huge fan. Have been ever since Frank invited me to one of your shows a few months ago. I think you guys are phenomenal.”

The guys looked taken aback as well as flattered by your comment. Well, except for Frank. He just smiled and winked at you, and you smiled back, prompting the other three to glare at him. Partly out of jealously, and partly out of anger that he hadn't mentioned you sooner. Or introduced you to them at the show you went to.

“Why don’t you show them what you can do,” Frank cocked his head at the drum kit in the corner of the room, ignoring his friends’ dirty looks.

And that’s exactly what you did. Twenty years of playing drums, and it was almost second nature to you. You manoeuvred excellently, hitting the drums with a precision and passion that left the guys speechless, as Frank just smiled smugly.

When you finished, you beamed widely at the four of them who were still speechless. As soon as you stood up, though, you were met with raucous applause, making you giggle as you took a bow.

“So, I think it’s safe to say that you’re now a member of My Chemical Romance, right guys?” Frank spoke and the others added their agreements.

“Thank you guys,” you gushed.

“I have a question,” Ray chimed as he looked at you, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Uh, actually, yeah, I do.”

~

The next few months were quite easily the best months of your life. After all the bullshit you’d been through, you finally felt like you found a place where you belonged.

And that place was in My Chemical Romance.

From word go, the guys had taken you under their wing and treated you like nothing short of a queen.

You’d always had a pretty good relationship with Frank, but being in a band with him strengthened that beyond belief, and now, he was like a big brother to you; always looking out for you, saving you from interviewers’ prying questions and just making sure you were always doing fine.

Mikey and Gerard reminded you a lot of your younger twin brothers. Not just because they themselves were siblings, but also because they would constantly want to spend time with you, talking about comics, music and asking for help with girl troubles.

All in all, it was quite accurate to say that the boys were literally like family.

And then there was Ray.

Right from the start, Ray made no effort to hide his ever-growing crush on you, and he didn't seem to care whether you, or any else, knew about it. He wasn’t so bad that it made you feel uncomfortable or violated in any way, of course; he’d usually just pass cute comments your way or tell you how beautiful you looked that day. And although you wouldn’t admit it to yourself, you slowly started falling for him, too.

Your relationship with your boyfriend was never a strong one to begin with – the two of you were set up by mutual friends, and decided to give it a go for their sake; clearly, that idea was doomed from the start – but lately, you seemed to be drifting apart far more rapidly than usual. You’d try to pretend nothing was wrong; you’d go to his baseball matches and he’d come to your shows, but your relationship was honestly a lost cause.

“You were sick tonight, (Y/N/N)!” Frank complimented, high-fiving you.

“Not as good as you, but thanks,” you smiled, “Hey, have you seen Dean? He’s usually waiting backstage for me.”

“Yeah, I think I saw him going into the bathroom over there,” Frank pointed in the direction he’d last seen your boyfriend walking in.

You said a quick thanks and started towards the bathroom to wait for Dean. When you approached the door, you heard the distinct sound of a woman giggling and you immediately knew what was going to happen next: You’d open the door, see Dean and some random skank making out – or, if you’re really lucky, fucking, - , and then he’d half-heartedly try to explain himself.

But you opened the door, nonetheless, because you were way past caring about this relationship.

You sighed deeply, pushed the door open and your suspicions were confirmed.

“Nice one.”

 ~

 When you walked into the tour bus a few days later, the guys went completely silent, not knowing whether to act normal, like you hadn’t just broke up with your boyfriend or to shower you with condolences because you had just broke up with your boyfriend.

Mikey decided to go with a, “You look great!” which resulted in the other three mumbling in approval.

“Thanks! It’s amazing what getting rid of a cheating jerk can do to your complexion!”

Frank found that absolutely hilarious, and burst out laughing before muttering a ‘sorry’ when the other three shot him stern looks.

“It’s okay,” you assured, “Never loved him anyways.”

You made your way to the fridge to grab a soda, and Ray followed.

“Hey,” he smiled.

“Hi,” you smiled back.

“Listen, I know you said that you’re fine and that you don't care or whatever but… just know that I really, really care about you and if there’s anything you need, I’m here.”

“Actually, there is something.”

“What is it?”

“Kiss me.”

So he did.

And you’d never felt so complete.

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

[radicaltimesnews-blog]

Beer talk: Surf Curse (CA, USA)

Californian band Surf Curse are on their first tour in Europe and they haven’t forgotten about Czechia. Their show in Skatepark Štvanice blew mine and almost 200 more heads away.  After the concert, I’ve talked with the core of Surf Curse and cute short girl Lauren, who’s joining them on this tour. We’ve sat down for like an hour and managed to discuss all kinds of topics, from funny ones to deep ones.

Nick (the drummer): This is the voice of Nick Rattigan. Jacob (the guitarist): This is the voice of Jacob Rubeck. Lauren (the guitarist): This is Lauureeen.

Have you ever played a skatepark before?

Nick: No, first time.

How was it?

Jacob: It was a lot of fun, I wish more people would have stayed skateboarding during our show. It’s understandable though because of the dark.

Everyone actually went to watch your show.

Nick: It’s true, they just stopped and went down, awesome.

Jacob: We loved to be the soundtrack to skateboarders. That’s kind of how we started, our music’s been in skate and snowboarding videos. I guess it somehow fits, especially the early stuff.

You get inspired by movie soundtracks a lot, don’t you?

Jacob: More from films than anything else. It’s weird, cause everyone’s like what’s the most influential band and stuff and I always say that from the beginning it was bands like Wavves and the whole garage-rock scene, but it changes so fast for us. We didn’t really wanna be a part of that culture and just ended up getting more inspiration and song ideas from films.

When people look your music up on the internet, they may end up thinking that you’re a two-piece band, but you usually play live shows with third person, a second guitarist. How so?

Jacob: We only started doing that recently, with release of the latest record Nothing Yet, so it was in January 2017.

Is there someone else on the record apart from you and Nick?

Jacob: We recorded everything ourselves, Nick did most of the secondary instruments like synths. We just sat in a room in North Hollywood in the back of our friends’ parents house.

Nick: We also recorded the first two albums there, so we ended up working with him for third time.

Jacob & Nick: His name is Andrew James McKelvey!

Nick: And he’s an amazing producer and sound engineer. We recorded the first two albums in two days time, we recorded the instruments in a day and the vocals in a day. We tried to do the same this time, but we just kept coming back and adding things, so that’s why the album has a lot of different sounds.

Jacob: We wanted to do something that’s a lot more interesting.

Do you feel like you’ve matured over time considering the sound of the latest album?

Nick: Absolutely. We’ve also made an effort to mature the music. We’ve both been through so much… so much life and shit over the past few years.

When we heard Nothing Yet for the first time, a friend of mine noted: “Where’s the sun drenched-vibe of Surf Curse, it’s more melancholic now”…

Nick: I think that melancholy is a good way to describe it, yeah. I mean, if you ask us what our music sounds like, it’s always one of the hardest questions to answer. A lot of the old stuff was very fun and sweet. We were like nineteen, writing all these songs in our basement in Reno and then we just got hit with a lot of life experience and all sorts of things. I guess that’s why we tried to communicate a deeper meaning or something more heartfelt and emotional in our music.

Who are the TELE/VISIONS, Nick?

Nick: Oh yeah, it’s like a completely different band than Surf Curse. Surf Curse are always me and Jacob doing things together, TELE/VISIONS or Current Joys has always been my effort to experiment with music and pushing song-writing skills.

Do you play the drums as well in other bands?

Nick: I’m not a drummer in TELE/VISIONS, I play the guitar there. Current Joys are just my solo project.

Which sound is closer to your heart, the sunshine-filled Surf Curse or darker TELE/VISIONS?

Nick: That’s a difficult question. They’re obviously different. I’m definitely more melancholic than I used to be in the early days. Music is just all about the emotions, your emotional states and those change constantly with age and years. So I think it’s a constantly evolving thing with both of the bands, but it’s ultimately just to be as true and honest to ourselves as possible. It’s hard to really place where I am now or where I was before, but I hope the music speaks for itself.

And what about Casino Hearts, Jacob?

Jacob: Ohh, that’s overwidth now. I stopped doing that, but I have a new project called Gap Girls. It will come out eventually, there’s only one song available online at this time.

Were Casino Hearts your solo project?

Jacob: Yeah, it was just me recording songs in my bedroom, kind of experimenting with guitar and writing these weird-ass pop songs. I stopped doing that when I moved from Nevada. If I ever write songs in Nevada, it’s gonna be Casino Hearts, but if I’m anywhere else, it’s gotta be something new.

I’ve also heard that you’re more of a drummer than a guitarist, Lauren..

Lauren: Did you hear that from my dad?

I don’t wanna give up my sources, but.. yeah, I spoke to him before. (Lauren’ dad was also here tonight, at the concert)

Lauren: He always says that, because it was his dream to play drums, so he’s always seen me as a drummer, but I don’t think I consider myself mostly as a drummer. I like playing everything, but I probably like playing guitar more than playing drums.

How come you’re on this tour with Surf Curse anyway?

Lauren: I came onto this tour like 5 days before the tour, because I lost my job the same day their old guitarist had to drop out. These guys are good friends of mine. First time I actually saw Surf Curse play, it reminded me so much of the time when I was in high school and saw No Age play, the same energy and it was really nostalgic, so I’m really happy to be here.

Nick: She also makes music apart from Surf Curse, that’s really great.

What’s that band called?

Lauren: I shouldn’t say, cause I’m working on a new thing right now. It’s called The Who.

How’s the tour so far? Do you ever get tired?

Nick: This is our first four week tour ever, it’s been great –     

Jacob: We were gone for a month and a half in US once, but we only played like 7 shows. Here in Europe we have a show almost every single night, we’ve only had two or three nights off.

Nick: Yesterday for example we played in Kreuzlingen, Swiss/German border. There’s a town of Constance on the German side and there actually were more people from Germany than from Switzerland. Today we drove for 6 hours to get here.

What’s the festival you most enjoyed playing?

Nick & Jacob: COACHELLA!

Nick: No, not at all. Honestly this tour has been so great for us. Because in US, we started playing bigger venues and this has been a lot of small bars, that are really packed and intimate. Personally I can say I feel a lot of love and genuine emotions and also a lot of energy and catharsis when playing these shows, which is quite beautiful. Some of them have been my favorite shows to play, all these strange towns that we never thought we’d play in. It’s very different than playing in the States.

Now, I know it’s your first time playing in Czechia, but have you been in Europe before?

Nick: Never ever, it’s the first time across this ocean for both of us.

What does it feel like, playing overseas?

Nick: Very different. I mean, we’re in divergent cultures and lifestyles every night, which is much different than in the US, where you’re just playing a different state every night, which is sort of the same think-tank. Here you cross borders every day. We’ve been to Spain, France, Switzerland Czech republic and took a ferry to the UK, which is a completely different world.

Jacob: I’d say it’s overwhelming, cause you’re surrounded by different environments all the time and being here forever and you’re just like: “Wow, so this is actually real!”

How surprising do you find it that people actually know you?

Jacob: Feels great, there’s people coming up to us saying: “We never thought you’d come here.” That’s the sickest thing ever.

Nick: Yeah, they’re like: “We’ve been listening to you since the first demos you released.” We printed around 30 of these shirts back in Reno, when we started the band. And this girl in Belgium had one of the shirts on at the gig. It’s so unbelievable.

Jacob: That goes back all the way to the times, when we first put our music up on Tumblr. It feels awesome that some people experienced the beginnings with us.

I actually remember that you were the first band ever, whom I sent money for an album through Bandcamp. It was probably like 5 bucks, haha. Do you guys wanna Make America great again?

Nick:  Ehmmmmm, no. We wanna make garage punk great again.

Jacob: (laughing) No, cause America’s never been great.

Nevada or California?

Jacob: I enjoy a lot of things about California, but I think I’d like to move back in Reno later in my life. I’d never move back to Las Vegas, where we both grew up. We both then lived in a bunch of places, but I think Reno is kind of where my heart is, as far as where I feel safe and comfortable. But you know, after being on the road for so long, I don’t really want stay in one place. Once you experience the rest of the world, you just wanna keep exploring and experiencing more. There’s the whole world out there.

Many of the good bands we know are from California and Nevada. It’s like all the bands are from the same place. Why do you think it’s like that, what does make these places so special?

Jacob: Well, there’s like an obsession with surf culture, that fucking good weather and it’s really quite a magical place. I mean, a lot of garage, surf-rock or Burger Records bands are not from California, they’re from all over the place, but everyone just ends up in California anyways, cause that’s where the scene is.

Yeah, I guess they must be influenced by Californian scene from their beginnings. I remember when we met Moonwalks, we thought they’re from Cali and they’re actually from Detroit.

Jacob: Yeah, exactly, but they live in California now. The thing is, people always say that California is the place to be, that you gotta move to California and in the end, they do. I never thought I would be living in California, but I fucking ended up there anyways. And it works, if you feel comfortable there, we’re able to see shows every night, so it’s just exciting. And there’s always new people there, so there’s always something to do. There’s just weird magic towards California, it’s like New York, there’s magic too, you always think about the CBGB stuff, Lou Reed… I feel there’s something magical and inspiring about Reno too.

And then there’s The Smell That Saved Your Life. What’s your connection to this club?

Jacob: That’s one of the DIY music venues that’s been around for almost 20 years now. And there always was a lot of people that would go there to get inspired. Our favorite bands would always play there, when we were younger.  

Who might that be, for example?

Jacob: Abe Vigoda, BARR, Mika Miko, No Age, Health and so on. I wasn’t really a musician when I went there for the first time, but I loved music so much I had to go. I was like 18 and I never got to experience these shows before, cause in Nevada almost every venue is 21 plus. In Nevada I got to interview bands. I never saw them play, but I got to talk to them, which was awesome. Then I told Nick about The Smell and we eventually went to 14th anniversary show and it was insane.

Nick: We went for No Age, but every band that played that night blew us away. We drove back home from that show and all we talked about was starting a band so we could play at The Smell and do what these other bands were doing. And eventually, in between school, on a weekend, we got a chance to play there. I was so scared to go down to L.A. and play show for the first time, but we then kept coming down more and more. People started to think we’re from Cali, but we had to drive 9 or 10 hours to play at The Smell.

Jacob: It’s really such a special place. They’re tearing it down pretty soon and they’re replacing it with a parking garage. That’s quite tragic. They’re trying to relocate it.

It’s not gonna be the same, is it?

Jacob: Who knows. These DIY venues like The Smell are never meant to last that long anyway, it’s kind of in the nature of what they are. It happens, but then new venues are opened, new people come. New good chapters begin, I think that’s the way of life is.

Nick: There’s always new potentials with the venues, just look at the skatepark here. Trends are kinda made to die and be reborn again, then it keeps things fresh and interesting. There’s always an attitude that exists in people and youth that’s gonna exists beyond any geographic location.

Since you studied journalism Nick, when it comes to life goals and stuff, are you really just killing your time?

Nick: (laughing) Well, I don’t think we’re just killing our time and doing stuff that’s meaningless. It may be a cool thing to say, but you know, I don’t wanna sound pretentious or anything, but I think what we’re doing is quite an important thing. Bringing people either joy or sadness or same sort of release or empathy or whatever. Whatever we can give people with what we do is one of the most important things that life has to offer.

What are those important things for you?

Nick: Music or any form of art. I think that it’s a shame that music or any other form of entertainment is seen just like a radical, crazy thing to do with your life. I really think it’s quite important and it gives some people a reason to live.

Jacob: It takes a lot to get to a point, where we can just make music. We know that it won’t last forever, but as long as we can do it, it’s very important and we’ll do it for as long as we can.

There’s a new law in Czech republic which says that you cannot smoke in clubs. What do you think about that and why?

Nick: Smoking kills. It’s been a thing in America a while ago, you also can’t smoke in bars or clubs. Jacob: Except for Vegas.

Nick: What’s crazy about it is coming to Europe and seeing these horrific images on all of the cigarette packages.  

There’s just a baby with a cigarette on this one.

Nick: (smiling) I know there’s just a little baby, but there’s also these realities of smoking, that are gross. I think that there’s this giant global effort to warn people that smoking is bad, but there’s still this culture of cool behind it and people do it anyways. It’s slowly taking peoples’ lives, it’s making people die younger –

Jacob: It’s your choice too.

Nick: Yeah, it’s your choice, whatever. But I mean, I don’t smoke, it’s interesting from an outsider’s perspective. It almost feels like I’m in a Black Mirror episode, with people inhaling the smoke with packages that show: “This is gonna cause you harm,” but it’s still kind of ignored, cause it’s seen as a globally accepted social function..

Well, from what I’ve heard, smoking is the most classy way to commit suicide. Thank you for the interview, guys.

Surf Curse: Cheers!

                                                                                                                         AR

[ethanwmiles]

An Interview with local musician Connor O’Keane

I’m sat on a balcony overlooking Elizabeth St. I’d promised my interviewee a quiet dumpling place where we could chat and eat, but the quiet little dumpling store has since become a rather booming Thai place. So instead we’re eating Nando’s and listening to loud Peruvian music. But that’s sort of why I wanted to interview Connor, to talk about Melbourne and how fast it’s moving and growing, especially the music scene.  We’d previously worked together on a short film “Chuck Baritone” that we entered into a local film festival (it of course won Best Short Film, but that’s beside the point). We’ve since stayed in contact and encouraged each other creatively. I would attend his band’s heavy metal shows at smoky pool halls in the middle of nowhere, and he would indulge me when I needed someone creatively accomplished to interview for a class.

“I’ve lost my questions” I tell him as I search my bag for the questions I’d written in a mad rush half an hour earlier. He laughs when I erroneously compare myself to Robert Frost (I meant David Frost of course) and we imagine the Frost/Nixon interviews would’ve been very different if they were conducted in a busy Nando’s to a Peruvian sountrack, as David Frost frantically searched his backpack. This is why I chose to interview Connor, he’s an effortless conversationalist with a quick wit and easy laugh.

Music is of course his first and most enduring love, but it was through filmmaking that I met him, and I can attest he’s passionate about that too. I ask, if there’s a relation between the two in his mind. If his love for music somehow translates to his his passion for filmmaking. After all, they are both creative pursuits. “My favourite movies, like my favourite albums are the ones that have a visceral quality […] some sort of heavy metal aesthetic to the way it’s shot, of the way it’s edited. Especially the way it’s edited.” I decide to flex my cinematic chops here and ask a question that’s a bit of a stretch. The way a movie is edited sets the pace of the film to a degree, in much the same way the drummer of a band sets the beat to which the band plays. Is that perhaps why he’s so drawn to editing? Is there a relation between the two? “You can see why playing this beat has one feel, and then adding ‘double kick’ to it has another feel and it makes it feel more visceral,” he tells me and I ask if that translates to editing, to the pace of things, “Yeah I think so. Yeah, yeah.”

We’re only a couple of questions in and I’ve already lost my place, have I asked “what attracted you to filmmaking” yet? He tells me I haven’t, so I ask him to just imagine I had, and answer as such. He says that he often thought he’d be a children’s author when he was younger, because he just liked to write jokes. Then later he was drawn to stand-up comedy, because again, he just liked writing jokes. In high school he tells me, he was instantly attracted to dialogue, but everything else was rushed. He smiles as he mentions a “really cool” English teacher he once had, that told him if he just wanted to write dialogue for a creative piece, he should submit a script instead. The desire to write scripts turned into a desire to seem them made, and thus, a filmmaker was born. But he reminds me, music will always be his first passion.

Connor’s first gig, a local council youth event was a quiet affair. I know because I was in attendance, it was an event that promised free pizza and great music. I was too late for the free pizza and, a part of me suspects, the great music. But he’s come a long way since then he tells me, having played between 35 and 40 shows in the last three years. Yet, despite having played some of the most iconic venues in Melbourne – Cherry Bar springs to mind – it’s a smoky pool hall in Lilydale that holds his affections. “The people down there really dug what we were doing.” he says. And that seems to be a theme throughout the metal scene. One would expect a horde of black leather clad, spiky collared (to borrow a word from Connor) “punters” to be an intimidating lot, but that’s not at all the case. The metal scene thrives on fresh blood he tells me, “I’ve been really impressed with the quality of the music especially, and just how supportive everyone is.” Connor rails off a list of names of people in other bands that have shared his latest song, or helped him produce his latest single, or just sent him kind words over facebook. There’s no attitude of elitism, or competitiveness.

“For the longest time I just thought I wasn’t a music person” Connor tells me, and I’m more than a little surprised. For reference, Connor is the drummer in two heavy metal bands, host of a heavy metal podcast and the only person I know who still buys CDs. And certainly the only person who bought a Sony Discman in the 21st century (so he could listen to CDs he’d bought immediately). But if there were two things responsible for starting his musical career, it’d be his dad, a seasoned Jazz drummer and video games. “I learned the basics of drumming, keeping time and stuff from my dad at 8” he tells me “But I didn’t touch that for years until I was 15 or 16 […] when the Guitar Hero games brought drums into the mix.” The Guitar Hero games have never really been my forte, but I know enough to follow his reasoning. The object of the game is to play along with the tracks on a toy instrument, keeping time and not missing notes. When you play the guitar in these games, that just means strumming along with a plastic toy and holding any of six coloured buttons (meant to emulate the frets of a guitar). But it’s much harder to game-ify the drums. “You’re literally playing every hit” he says, before taking me through a technical rundown of the composition of an electric drum kit. I quickly exhaust my knowledge of drums, and bow to his greater wisdom here, as we move onto his heroes and inspirations.

He lists off a few drummers and I ask if Lars Ulrich, of Metallica fame is his hero. It was a bit of cheap shot, I admit, knowing that Ulrich is a controversial figure in the metal world. Too often outspoken and regularly criticised for his drumming skills. But Connor doesn’t flinch from the question. “He’s a fucking good performer. He’s a really good entertainer. If you want to see someone rock the fuck out […] watch Lars, he knows how to make people go nuts”. I can’t really argue with that, and it’s obvious why Ulrich, who began teaching himself drums at the age of 16 holds so much of Connor’s admiration.

While we’re on the topic of self-trained musicians, I mention to Connor a video I saw recently of a woman who taught herself the violin and how fantastic I thought she was, but that the top comment on her video was from a concert violinist. Evidently, she’d learned some bad habits, her posture was wrong, her stance, the way she ran the bow along the strings. Is it hard, I ask, to teach yourself and to unlearn your own bad habits?

“The hardest part I think, is recognising that you are getting better,” he tells me “I’ll be practising nowadays and trying to get really fast with my feet and I’ll be going ‘fuck I can’t do this, I can’t go this fast, have I hit a wall in terms of how good I’m going to get?’ then I remember I thought the same thing about playing triplets with my feet, or playing up to the speed I can now.” It’s a nice sentiment, and one I find myself mirroring occasionally, but what about his habits? “I don’t think I’ve picked up bad habits,” he stresses, “I think I’ve just started with incorrect technique and stuff.” Often he tells me, for a drummer that’s self-trained, at least in his own experience, the best way to learn good habits is just trial and error. It can take hours of practise to learn that a certain motion is more in the forearm than the wrist and the same, he tells me, applies to “feet stuff”. But is there a wrong way to play? What is the correct technique for a heavy metal drummer? Connor’s answer to that: “Whatever sounds bitchin’.”