#elvis should have had his own line of clothing

[hooked-on-elvis]

January 30, 1974: Elvis receives Norwegian silver disc for 'Can't Help Falling In Love' and fan scrapbook from fan club President Pål Granlund (Flaming Star Fan Club, Norway). | Cool fact: Pål Granlund is author (and has contributed) of many books on Elvis through the years. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Certainly one of ELVIS' "AWESOME HAIR DAYS." ♥

And look at his clothes! I love this man's style.

[precious-little-scoundrel]

I saw your answer about being burned out on Gigi but still being open to discussing the topic -

are there any little fun tidbits or ideas you had planned that you could drop in the answer box as a little treat?

Was there an eventual endgame for her?

Anything quirky or outrageous set to take place with her in her story?

Would Gigi ever change her ways and act grown up?

XOXOX you are my favorite writer on this whole entire app you must know

My darling, yes, yes, yes I am happy to talk of it! And I’m so happy you popped in. I cannot believe I’m your favorite, that’s just stunning to me, I’m really touched. 🫶🏼💋🫵🏻

Now into Gigi!

Shortly before the August tour she and Lisa Marie meet and as Lisa is in many ways more mature 🤣 they actually end up bonding very well, I imagined a case of Linda and Lisa with someone who’s even more playful -Gigi- and who genuinely would spend five hours playing Barbie’s because she wants to and has no fear on the golf carts.

On the August tour she’s a lifesaver for Elvis in so many ways, but things are also hard and she’s clingy and he’s on the pills to hell him keep going and it’s a side she hasn’t fully seen from him and rightfully considers to now be “the real him”

So she sticks it out but he also lashes out at he rom e about how clingy she is and it’s devastating to her. Positively devastating…all he really said was that she should be able to go to sleep on her own if he needed/wanted to keep socializing with the boys or whatever

When he goes to join her in the room that night he finds are shaking and crying and cold and practically going through a sub drop of sorts

Which gets cured with insistent assurance he’s a selfish old man who doesn’t even appreciate the miracle right under his nose and massive amounts of love and cuddles and him laying on top of her like a weighted blanket.

Swearing she’s always gonna be His Baby Girl

There’s no going back after that

Not that either Elvis or Gigi would want to

Something wonderful does happen on this tour and in many ways it’s due to Gigi yet again, Colonel Parker hasn’t being so well himself and now having to endure Elvis calling out his newest PR nightmare from the stage each night as his little Angel when she’s sitting there beaming, nineteen and big titted, is a worsening strain.

Sometime in later September the strain gets to be too much, apparently, when Colonel Parker is trying to enjoy the hotel’s amenities and soak in the hot tub with his cigar and a starry night sky but instead of being able to enjoy these he is assaulted with the caterwauling sounds of Gigi getting pleasurably railed on the balcony, one too many references to how big Elvis is and how much she loved how big he is and how big he is and…on and on and on

The Colonel was found at dawn bobbing up and down in the little bubbling caldron -a heart attack apparently

Big Sad

Such a big sad they have to cancel the rest of the tour and fly out to Hawaii to mourn and lift Elvis’ spirits

There Gigi feeds him pineapples and papaya juice and frolics in the surf in every smaller bikinis that are more calculated than Elvis assumes because her chief goal is actually to get him shirtless and frolic with her and he won’t unless it’s such a dire paparazzi emergency he must offer his own shirt to cover her bouncing assets

They make a baby on a plane ride, he just goes in during the turbulence and she’s so vigorous and delighted no pulling out occurs

So he marries her *duh*

Lisa is delighted by this and Lovey is born -cue, lots of Gigi never updating her wardrobe so everything is just flowy and unbuttoned and lots of nursing with a tit out much to the Memphis Mafia’s consternation about where to look without Elvis biting their heads off

Gigi loves engaging in a past time of seeing how far she can shoot her milk, it’s her favorite thing about motherhood, the little clothes are next and somwhere down the line is the actual baby

Don’t fret -Lovey has more than enough parental love coming from Elvis

With Parker gone and out of the way, wishes and whims honestly get to be met a lot easier and Gigi considers one of the most tragic things her Bug Daddy went though is the closing of Circle G ranch so you best believe she wheedles and begs for another and it’s a complete zoo by the end, not a ranche

They have another kid, soonish —a son named Baron. He’s the only one to inherit brain cells and will go on to be as devastatingly handsome and charming as his father and yet a full on Bayou living recluse when he’s not taking care of Graceland and his mother and kindly informing Miss Bealieu that if she wanted to use the name Presley, maybe she shoulda not divorced the original Presley she was related to?!👇🏼

but all that is after Elvis dies.

Because he does and yeah it’s genuinely sad and it happens sometime in the early 2000’s and his last words are to Baron and to “take care of my Gigi”

Gigi then proceeds to live and a very Yellow Wallpaper version of reality, never one for facing realities but gifted with a massive amount of emotional intelligence, she’s quite certain every breeze through the curtain and creak in the old house and song order on the radio is a message from Elvis to her. Yeah it’s a bit morbid but it’s also oddly convincing, “Daddy” doesn’t lose any presence just because he’s zipped out to the gas station longer than usual.

She’s preserved everything and that’s her chief hobby along with the zoo, even when Lovey is situated and taking over the magazines Elvis bought and produced. Gigi takes an interest for sure ->hell, she used to be their centerfold time and again so the least touch of her manicured hand on an editorial is still gold, no matter how time passes<- but first and foremost she’s still insistent she’s gotta be at Graceland, can’t leave Daddy alone there for long.

Which is a CRAZY and weird ass world for a certain Austin Butler to step into for research.

It’s impeccably preserved to the point of being past creepy, like it’s not creepy instead it’s just fully convincing, which probably should’ve been his first clue to run for his sanity sake, but when you love a thing you’ll quickly embrace a comforting illusion over a hurtful reality

And Austin loves Elvis, almost as much as Gigi does

Which becomes their joint reality

She’s eager to help him with the research, pours out the most insightful and tender perceptions of her Daddy, shows Austin his guitars and his books, his notes and his bibles, hours of hole footage -some of which Austin initially did not see the research value in due to their scandalous content but Gigi was insistent it was crucial material to get to know Elvis as his most unassuming, which she insisted was in bed

Probably shoulda been predictable -except for their age gap but life does imitate art- bonding over one all consuming love in their lives and watching X rated home movies and breathing life into each other’s lonely delusions really binds people together

Baron Presley is initially totally incensed and suspect this little twink Butler but eventually he softens, gets won over

Austin’s a good and kind influence on Gigi and between him and Baz they get her out more, Lisa’s good word regarding both helps this, too

Gigi gets convinced to go to Cannes with them all and Baron actually surfaces from his redneck palace in the bayous to confirm he’s not in fact dead for the first time in ten years,

He Takes Care of Business one last time at Cannes like his daddy would like, see Austin would dearly like to be Gigi’s and Gigi would like to be Austin’s -hell they already are- so Baron does them a little favor and draws out the little Nepo Arm Candy that Austin’s been toting about the these events and charms her real well and let’s just say, when Priscilla Bealieu saw Baron Presley come out of the coed bathroom in swaggering dishevelment with a little bowlegged twig behind him -she got some severe ptsd flashbacks to his father

After this it’s all happily ever after and Gigi is still showing up to Austin’s premiers and she’s proud as anything of him and he of her and together they’ve found whatever it is that binds souls together

Life imitates art

•also, for those who ask, if Gigi ever gets a lurid and beautiful biopic herself, looks like Emerald Fennel is the one for the job, uhem

Tagging my Gigi taglist as this is a headcanon list of sorts and y’all may enjoy seeing it 💋

@prompted-wordsmith

@parodsal000

@ab4eva

@stylespresleyhearted

@presleyenterprise

@kendralavon7

@coolgirl462

@colahola

@lillypink

@stephthestallion

@vintageshanny

@landmermaid12

@ashtag2887

@notstefaniepresley

@butlersluvbot

@steph-speaks

@eliseinmemphis

@lookingforrainbows

@dkayfixates

@ellie-24

@memphisflash1935-1977

@marriedtopresley

@powerofelvis

@thatbanditqueen

@elvisabutler

@butlersxbirdy

@heartbrake-hotel

@fav-fanficssss

@austinbutlersbaby

@freudianslumber

@kxnnxy

@kingdomforapony

@be-my-ally

@crazymadpassionatelove

@that-hotdog

@missmaywemeetagain

@fallinlovewithurlove

@richardslady121

@lilycherries123

@18lkpeters

@xenaspace3-blog

@lil-mamas-obsessions

@father-of-2cats

@helen06dreamer

@returntopresley

@gonnagoandfangirl

@kelssssxd

@octobers-snow

@velvetelvis

@blursedblegh

@azzypog

[deke-rivers-1957]

Kissin Cousins Review

After Viva Las Vegas went over budget, Colonel Parker as the technical advisor pushed the panic button. The next immediate film had its budget slashed and everything was rushed just to make back any money lost. The production was very cheap despite a somewhat ambitious story of having Elvis play 2 characters.

Despite being made after Viva Las Vegas, Kissin Cousins came out first making for a very jarring experience if seen back to back. A lot of people HATE this movie because of the concept and cheap production, indicating that Colonel's plan didn't work as he expected. After all, if you only spend a grand total of a $1 million dollars on a movie, you only need $1,000,001 to make a profit. Does Kissin Cousins have some good parts to it or is it all bad and should never be mentioned again? Let's find out.

Kissin Cousins is a pleasant opening song. It's not something that blows you away but it's a nice little ditty with cute art. It makes me wonder why we never had an animated film as those were usually way cheaper than a regular movie. Yes animation in the 60s wasn't as big of an industry as it is now, but if Colonel wanted to value cheap production, animation would've been the way to go.

We get introduced to the conflict of the movie: The military wants a military base on the Tatums mountain land in the Smokey Mountains. The Tatums don't want to sell as they don't trust the government. As stereotypical as this sounds, this was a pretty common experience. The only issue I have with this element is that they want to show this as the Air Force, but everyone is dressed in Army uniforms. Josh starts off wearing a more accurate uniform but we quickly do away with that. A sign already that no one cared enough to make things accurate.

We also see very quickly that this movie is so cheap they can't even film b-roll footage of the real Appalachian Mountains. Instead we get Southern California mountains and Hollywood sets. As much as it sounds like a nitpick, the mountains are a mega important part of the movie. Depicting the real mountains would add more immersion into the story by showcasing how these people live. Smokey Mountain Boy as a song doesn't stand out on its own. It does sound lovely in the context of the movie. It sounds like the type of song a military man would sing. We get a dumb joke about mountaineers not knowing how to spell and the girls not knowing what Jodie looks like. If you look very closely we get another sign that the movie is cheap in the form of a faint yellow line in the middle of the screen. That's meant to be the filter that allows Elvis to play both Josh and Josh at once. More on that later.

We find out that Jodie actually isn't their brother. He's a cousin too and my whole world just blew up. This whole time I thought they were all siblings because he lived with them like he's their brother. There's Gold in the Mountains is bad. The lip-synching is non-existent. It's very apparent that neither Azalea or Selena's actress are actually singing. They sound nothing like they're speaking voices. I don't think this song was really necessary and could've been cut if it wasn't for a quota. Ma calls Jodie her nephew and man I want to know this man's story. There's so many ways you can go about this and show how this could significantly impact his character and his decisions.

Pappy is an amazing character. Arthur O'Connell really shows his range as he sounds nothing like Pop Kwimper from Follow That Dream. Despite being the same character of the government disdaining patriarch on paper, you really get the idea that this is a completely different person. Pappy and Pop are similar but are not the same. What I don't like is that his clothes are seen as dirty and full of holes. Jodie and the sisters don't have that problem so unless Pappy just got done wrestling some pigs, this is purely for laughing at dirty uncivilized Southerners. While it is unfortunate that some of them lived that way, this isn't the Tatums' situation.

Ma's an amazing character too and it only highlights my point that she wouldn't accept anyone in the family to be walking around in unkempt clothing. She would've immediately patched up any holes she found. You get the idea that she isn't someone to push around. She respects Pappy's authority but she also has her own authority. Ma is willing to flip Jodie right on his butt if he disrespects her despite Jodie easily being bigger than her. In real life, an average sized woman being able to flip over what I consider to be a 200 lb man would be super impressive. We clearly get the idea that Pappy loves it. He wants his wife to be a strong woman who doesn't take disrespect from anyone.

This whole scene insults Southerners by having them own a Confederate Flag in the house, eat possums and other stereotypical "white trash" food like this is a regular occasion. Like it's something they take pride in eating and wouldn't want to eat anything else. Note: people only eat that when there's nothing else available. It would only make sense if they were proud of Ma being able to make do with what little they had but again this isn't what they're going through. They have pigs so it makes no sense why they still eat possums outside of stereotyping.

We get a visual gag of the captain turning green. This is such a cheap special effect. It looks like they just shined a green light over his face like we're in a cartoon. So bizarre and only exists because "haha isn't mountain food so disgusting." Totally unnecessary especially with how long they drag the joke of no one knowing what an ICBM is. In real life, if this family was as ignorant as the movie makes them out to be, they would not survive.

One Boy, Two Little Girls is a very boring ballad. It adds nothing to the movie and is just filler. We already got a song with him singing to the sisters and learn nothing new. You can just cut to Josh talking to Azalea and Selena about how to convince Pappy. This whole interaction between Josh with Azalea and Selena is weird. We're supposed to think he digs both of them.

Catchin On Fast which is just as shallow. The song itself isn't bad, but in the context of the movie it comes out of nowhere. Josh just randomly picks Azalea over Selena. Yes we get the drama that Selena has to get married first, but outside of that there's no reason for him to pick Azalea. Yes it could be a matter of Josh preferring brunettes but it's never established to be the reason why he likes Azalea more. Admittedly I love that Selena isn't jealous of Azalea or mad that Josh picked her sister over her. In a different Elvis movie we know that would've been a conflict that lasted throughout the whole movie.

We get introduced to Midge and Jodie completely looks smitten. This is a completely different side of him. It's implied that he's had relations with more than one Kittyhawk woman but becomes such a different man around Midge. In that moment, none of the other women matter anymore. Midge is the only woman on his mind and you have to wonder what about her captures his attention. Maybe it's because she's not immediately throwing herself at him or seems interested in him at all. Just by this scene alone, Midge does not give a single care that he's staring at her. If anything she straights up ignores him after they're introduced.

Watching Azalea interact with the Kittyhawks when they give them their own bikinis is the only difference we get. Azalea actively stands up to them and puts them in their place. She doesn't tolerate their actions. Ma puts her foot down when she sees that this turned everything upside down and I can understand where she's coming from. If Azalea and Selena are disrespecting her and the Kittyhawks are causing nothing but trouble, of course she would be upset.

The reporter exposes their plan to get the mountain base and the plan is all coming apart when the general contacts the captain about going up to the mountain. The captain orders Midge to go to Ma and try to smooth things over. Despite this being the 60s, the captain treats Midge like any other subordinate. He's not overly harsh or lenient with her just because she's a woman. Now that's gender equality. She runs into Jodie and at first we think Jodie's going to act like a pig and a wolf. And he does act like that, but what makes this movie better than most is that he gets his comeuppance. Yes it's meant to be a source of comedy but given the 60s, Midge being allowed to push back against horny men is incredible. She grins and bears it when it's the other military men because a lot of them may outrank her and pushing back would be horrific. But since Jodie has no authority over her, she pushes back. In other movies Jodie would be a creep who escalates his advancements after every rejection. But he doesn't. He saw the look on Midge's face when she thought he got hurt. She doesn't actually hate him, she just hates how forward and physical he is.

Based on their social situations, you can clearly see how it influences these women's reactions to male attention. Midge is just so used to men seeing her for her body and nothing else that when in a situation where she can push back against that behavior she will do it, while the Kittyhawks hardly ever see men so any attention or interaction with men would be like giving kids candy after denying them that for so long. And whether he fully realizes it or not, Jodie has to acknowledge that Midge really isn't like other girls but her own person. So he changes his approach to serenading Midge with Tender Feeling. Easily the best song in the movie and actually adds depth to Jodie's character. Even though he's a cocky jock, this song actually matters by showing that he's capable of being more than that. It still fails but even when it fails the only thing on Jodie's mind isn't a notch on his bed post it's WEDDING BELLS. He had full choice of any Kittyhawk out there to marry. He could've married any one of them at any time. But he doesn't want to be with any of them. He wants Midge. You can make an argument that as soon as he saw Midge for the first time, he wanted to marry her. Unbelieveable how this side character in a cheap Elvis production actually has some type of character arc.

Meanwhile, Azalea tries to convince Ma about changing her mind. I know the movie wants to make us feel bad about it, but we don't have any reason to feel bad. I don't feel anything for this relationship. Outside of Josh being different than the other mountain men, there's no real reason for her to like him. I care more about Hezekiah missing Pappy and he's a dog.

So they go to find Pappy and all of the men except for the captain and Jodie get captured by the Kittyhawk women. For once an Elvis character doesn't like being appreciated by multiple women. I guess it's meant to show how Josh is more "civilized" than Jodie. We get another Joe Esposito appearance in this movie and he actually gets a line.

Ma actually gets a song lamenting the loss of her husband. Pappy, Won't You Please Come Home is actually a pretty appropriate song. It shows just how much she loves him. The vocals could be better but it doesn't have to be professional because within the context of the movie, Ma isn't a professional singer. Pitch doesn't matter when you're sad.

We find out Pappy got chased by a bear and got stuck in a tree. The wide shot of him being stuck in a tree is so bad. You can tell this is a stunt double since Arthur O'Connell is too old to be doing stuff like this. Even when you can see his face you can tell he's only dangling on a wire and it's not even clear how he's caught. I get we needed something to get Josh on the family's good side but they could've done this a bit better. You would think this would be when Josh and Jodie would have to work together to save Pappy, but I guess that would've just been too hard to film. Again if Jodie had a real character arc this would be the moment when he realizes "hey Josh just isn't doing this because he's told to. He genuinely cares about us. He acts like he's kin."

We get a good old fashioned hoedown and hi where did all these people come from? Up until now we've had the Tatums and the Kittyhawks as the only people who live on this mountain. So why is there a whole village of people here? It completely changes the Kittyhawk women's reason to exist. If you imply that there's literally no other man on this mountain outside of Jodie, then these women being boy crazy make perfect sense. Now that we know Jodie isn't the only young man, they just look like a stereotype that women are promiscuous.

Barefoot Ballad fits so well with Jodie's character but watch out foot phobic people because it's exactly as it says on the tin. The dancing however, isn't that great. It shows just how rushed this movie's production wise. I guess it could work in that in universe these aren't professionals but as a movie it could be better. This is where the song quota kicks in as we get yet another song in the span of not even five minutes. Once Is Enough is fine but it's still filler. The dancing is still bad as one of them actually falls down and it stayed in the final cut. Based on Pappy's little speech I would've thought he would start singing. Heck even the captain who would later play Grandpa Joe showed he could sing in Willy Wonka so it's not like we couldn't have had a Pappy song.

After all this time, Jodie finally gets a character moment where he warms up to Josh. While Jodie internally realizes that Josh was alright when he saved Pappy, this would've been the perfect moment to showcase that he's willing to compliment Josh. If only he had more of a role in the movie because what little we get shows a pretty engaging character arc. Midge coming around would've been a natural reason for him to warm up to city folk. I could make a whole post about how I would write his character since there's so much potential.

The Kittyhawk women actually play an important role by sending the general in circles. That's what makes this movie great. Everyone has a part to play even if they start off as a joke. Pappy gets in a drinking contest with the captain. I have to laugh that Jodie managed to snap Pappy's suspenders when Pappy tries to run away. It actually adds to Jodie's claim that he's the champion and therefore strongest man in the mountains. Ma makes it clear that they have to talk things over so Josh and Pappy try to make a deal over a game of checkers. Jodie actually tries to help Josh out by getting the captain sober. If only they took advantage of them looking alike and had Jodie disguise himself as Josh. Jodie would have to swallow his pride because he knows if this deal fails, he would lose Midge as she's a WAC.

It isn't until Josh comes up with a deal allowing Pappy to continue selling his moonshine without "revenoor" interference. They also get protection and $1000 a month for the land. The deal goes through and everyone ends up happy. The one thing I wish was better explained is how despite all these people being on the mountain, Pappy is somehow the leader. I think if we had so much as a line about how these people came from distant villages would be enough as it's not like the military intended on buying the entire mountain.

Kissin Cousins (Number 2) is a banger of a song and I really like Jodie's twang when he sings but wow the production is cheap. They don't even bother cropping the shot above where you can actually see Lance LeGault (Elvis' body double) in the background. This isn't the first nor only time either. Throughout the movie and during the song when they switch back and forth between Josh and Jodie, we can see his face by accident. Elizabeth Montgomery in Bewitched had to do something similar when she had to play Samantha and her identical cousin Serena. That episode came out in 1966 and managed to do a better job. A TV show somehow did the same concept better than an actual Hollywood produced film. It's so sad that production was rushed to the point of basic editing mistakes and mistakes in general are left in. Even the ending where the characters hold up "The End" signs feels like this is a cheap high school production instead of a Hollywood movie.

This movie has several problems. As I've said the production is cheap with songs that are nothing but filler and at times have noticeable mistakes, Josh is a very boring character with an uninteresting romance in Azalea, Jodie makes you wonder why they wanted Elvis to play two characters when one of them doesn't even do that much, and they outright insult Southerners by using very cliched stereotypes.

So why do I like this movie in spite of these problems? Because the story has enough good elements that you can actually fix the problems without having to completely change the movie. It's like a Clambake in that I would consider the highlights to be enough to cover the glaring errors in it. If this movie had a different production team or a better budget I would say this story is one of the better ones for an Elvis movie. Therefore I would give this movie a 7/10. This is a movie that best exemplifies how Colonel's interference directly hurt a movie that otherwise would've been great. I highly recommend watching it so you get the perspective of how poorly Hollywood thought of Southerners, yet still have the Tatum family feel like real people.

AN: Shout out to the discord besties for providing commentary about how the Tatum family showcased the bad light Hollywood painted the South in. Especially @grizelda71-blog. Your notes in particular helped me see both the good and the bad in this movie. Also shout out to @smokeymountainboy for your work as Jodie inspiring me to review this movie this month.

Tagging: @arrolyn1114, @thedaisymaisy, @that-hotdog, @peaceloveelvis, @imaginationlast, @fuzzymusic94, @helen06dreamer, @sfull12345, @briefpandatimemachine, @alittlemoreelvis, @lynettethemadscientist, @motht-eeth, @ash-omalley, @spooky-hazex, @teamnefarious, @blighted-star, @ab4eva, @oh-my-front-door, @father-of-2cats, @atleastpleasetelephone, @xanatenshi, @crazymadpassionatelove, @burnthheparaphilia, @aliengoth3 @stormie-ryan23, @yksuwyksud, @tacozebra051, @alienelvisobsession, @vintageoldsoul, @ohmygiddd, @lovininapinkcadillac, @stephthestallion, @mistyspresley, @bisexualwvtson, @ahundredlifetime, @karel-in-wonderland, @elvispresleywife, @georgefairbrother, @moonchild-daniella, @musiclover712, @worldofyns, @sillybookmarks, @g00d2balive, @leighpc, @generoustreemystic, @peskybedtime, @thetaoofzoe, @renegadewarrior, @vintagepresley, @tupelomiss, @myradiaz, @pinkcaddyconfessions, @kiankiwi, @presley72elvis, @delulubutidontcare, @januarypresley1969, @livelaughelvis, @hooked-on-elvis, @slayingjd, @ilivebecauseiamforced, @dusintv, @cattcb, @eapep, @jaqueline19997, @richardslady121, @iloveelvis2, @lett-them-eatt-cake, @if-i-can-dream-of-elvis, and @lookingforrainbows.

[elvisabutler]

priscilla actress reader x austin headcanon number 10, or headcanon number 10 for the "you read your lines so cleverly..." verse.

a priscilla actress headcanon post with no ask? what is the world coming to? in all seriousness, blame the little bit of masters of the air we saw in that trailer and @butlersxbirdy and her recommendation of "hey isn't forever by mumford and sons dove and austin coded?" and realizing just what tom being the producer could mean. tw: daddy kink, talk of a break up, everyone is sad, y'all know the drill. i really just needed to get this out since my creative juices for everything including this verse are just a bit intense. i'm writing something else today with the intention of posting it but i needed this out of my brain or i was going to do nothing else.

consider! austin immediately leaves the elvis set- or more accurately leaves your shared apartment in australia and goes to film masters of the air.

the two of you had planned to make a pit stop in new york so that you could actually give your agents a hug, having missed them in a way that one only misses found family members.

there were also plans to debate the merits of settling in new york or in california.

"i'd freeze to death in the winter." "you act like you'd be there all the time." "it'd be our home, we'd be there as much as we could be. besides, eventually we'll have kids." "we're moving to france when that happens, daddy."

none of that happens though, because you leave on a plane a week before he does and leave your collar on the dresser and a onesie and ring haphazardly hidden back where they were.

you do selfishly take several articles of austin's clothing. his sweatpants that maybe are loose on you or maybe they're a little tight or maybe they're just there on you. a shirt that either swallows you whole or fits because you've stretched it out just enough. or maybe it just turns into a crop top for you. you also take a pair of his boxers. you figure he won't notice.

he does. immediately. because those were your favorite on him.

you go to new york, see your agents and you had made the mistake of telling them about austin even if it was inevitable that they would know it made them- it made them expect to see him.

"where is he?" "did you hide him at the apartment?" "she hid him, we're going to have to go bother him there." "we just need to-" "he's not there. or here. i- he's still back in australia." "packing up the apartment while you come and see us. if i didn't know you were itching for some new scripts before heading off to london." "i'm not heading to london."

simon notices your face first and pulls you into a hug before motioning for maxwell to join the hug as you try and not cry. you can handle this. you're only crying because it's raw.

"to the diner. you're telling us what happened."

and you do to an extent, cutting off certain bits to make the story seem better. to make yourself seem less strange.

"oh sweetheart. i know you really- we'll comb the scripts, there was one film i think that was dying to have you. netflix, i think. i'll bring it over tonight?"

you don't overbook yourself, but they were right, the film's producers was dying for you.

consider! austin was prepared to have you come with him to london.

he had even told tom that there was going to be a little mini reunion and maybe if they had a chance during a filming break that he was going to take you to france- paris, though you always liked talking about cannes, so maybe there- and propose.

tom remembers and when he sees austin and pulls him into a hug his first question is about you.

"just like australia with the quarantine, right? how's y/n?"

austin doesn't answer at first. too busy playing with his own dove necklace that's supposed to match yours but isn't with its partner any more. when he finally does, he sounds a little more choked up than he thinks he should be.

"i don't know how she is." or where.

"oh, austin. i didn't-" "no one does. not even baz." "secret's safe with me."

his secret is safe with tom until there's whispers of girls on set and till there's whispers and a picture of lily rose depp.

you don't ask about these things when you call him, still wanting him in your life- still grasping at something you willingly threw away.

he doesn't ask you about the paparazzi photos of you in his sweats and with his necklace- that necklace he gave you when you gave him your submission.

you both dwell a little too much to be healthy. he picks up boxing to help. you pick up karate.

you don't stop to think about how didn't priscilla used to karate too.

"boxing, huh?" "barry's a good teacher. karate?" "i have a good teacher too."

[mauvefayette6]

Being in the DPS Friend Group

master list

• Getting into arguments with Cameron all the time

• Getting Charlie's jokes

• Cheering Neil on during his play

• Standing up for Mr. Keating

• Getting into trouble

• Inviting them on adventures

• Being the rebel of the group

• Being extremely romantic

• Sometimes shy

• You get along with Todd a lot and spend loads of time with him

• You want to go to Culinary school

• Baking/cooking for them

• Bringing snacks to the meetings

• Being the youngest in your family

• Being an okay student

• Being amazing in latin

• Charlie teaches you how to play instruments

• Starting a small band with Charlie, Neil and Knox

• Helping Todd out with homework

• Sneaking to town with the poets

• Helping Knox with Chris

• Your least favorite poet is Cameron

• Cameron and you lowkey being enemies (unknown to you Cameron had a crush on you)

• Talking about each others futures with one another

• Staying up at night

• Late night drives

• Karaoke nights

• Going to Swing dance with the poets

• Sharing clothes (they loved to take your shirts)

• Charlie lowkey being in love with you

• Always reading first during meetings

• Going to record stores

- Imagine -

(reader implied to be a guy)

Charlie and you were in his dorm room and you had sneaked a small radio into the school. You showed him with a smirk and he smirked back. You woke up the poets (it was midnight) to go listen to music in the cave.

Neil didn’t like to be woken so late at night but went anyways because it was usual that he could hear anything other then classic music.

Meeks and Pitts inspired to make their own radio that night.

You smirked and looked at them, “The goddess of the cave!” You smiled turning on the radio and hearing Titti Frutti start playing. Everyone started to dance to it sometimes even singing along to it.

You and Charlie began to dance with each other laughing and smiling at each other. After the song ended Elvis began to play and again everyone danced.

It was so much fun everyone stayed in the cave until around 4 in the morning.

Cameron, Charlie and You were all walking together still lowkey singing to the songs when Cameron messed up on a line.

“Cameron! It doesn’t go like that! It’s ‘Sad Sack was sittin' on a block of stone, way over in the corner weepin' all alone’!” You sang and Charlie danced.

“Yeah Cameron learn the song before you start singing.” You two clowned Cameron until he grumpily walked away.

“Oh come on Cameron! We was only joking!” You laughed as Charlie began to sing the next part of the song.

Neil rolled his eyes walking backwards to look you two in the eye.

“Leave the poor guy alone, he doesn’t know the king of rock and roll and that’s okay!” He laughed causing Cameron to roll his eyes standing next to Pitts.

“Neil!” Pitts laughed shaking his head, “be nice!”

Everyone spent the way back to the school either defending Cameron or joking about it, Todd was smiling and even said a few jokes about it much to Cameron’s dismay.

“I thought you’d be on my side Todd,” Cameron shook his head before bursting out in laughter. Everyone else began to laugh too.

“We should do this again,” you smiled looking at them.

“I agree, it was loads of fun but I am tired and we have a Latin test,” he playfully shook his head as everyone said goodbye. You and Knox were roommates so you tow walked back to the dorm together laughing.

You laid on your bed looking at the ceiling, Knox was facing his wall.

“You think Chris will like me?” He mumbled and you laughed sitting up looking at him.

“I really do think she’ll like you, but you gotta hold on for a sec you can’t smother her and all, women don’t like a guy who is always up their bums about everything they do,” Knox sat up and laughed shaking his head.

“You’re the worst and the best at giving advice, just like Charlie. Speaking of Charlie you spend too much time with him you’re starting to act like him,” you rolled your eyes laying down facing your wall.

“Charlie is my best friend Knoxious don’t be jealous now,” you smirked.

“I’m not jealous of you and Charlie,” he scoffed turning away. You slowly began to hear Knox’s soft snores as you drifted off to sleep.

You were awoken thirty minutes after by a banging on the door. Knox sat up and sighed getting off his bed and to his dresser. You did the same pulling on the uniform before leaving the room Knox lazily following behind you.

That morning the only person with energy was Charlie. Surprising absolutely nobody that morning. Know was slowly drifting off to sleep almost slamming his head on the plate, if it weren’t for your hand protecting his face.

[wolfpants]

hi! I cannot wait for the led by light epilogue and the subsequent re-read I will be doing, "hello, darling" is still on a loop in my brain <33

was just wondering if you'd talk about your research process for writing a bit? (if you want!!) you create such amazing settings and atmosphere in your fics and that can be so difficult with period pieces, but it's so authentic the way you do it!

what kinds of things do you look for when researching? do you have specific details from the time period you're seeking out or is it just whatever you stumble across? also - the language and clothing ahh it's all perfect!

(this is so long sorry oops!)

Hello love! Or should I say... darling.

Sorry, couldn't help myself there.

I can and absolutely will talk about my research when writing; I'm by no means an expert in, well, anything to be honest (writing OR research), but this is the way I go about things and hopefully it paints a bit of a clearer picture and maybe can help some others when it comes to researching for their own stories.

My specific research for Led by Light

So it's a bit of a special case with Led by Light because it's a time period that I'm personally very interested in (mid-century Britain, and more specifically mid-century cultural history and mid-century design history), so I already had a bit of a foundation there that I could dip into: literature from the era (Highsmith, of course), films from and about the era (Breakfast at Tiffany's, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, John Wayne and Doris Day movies, Mad Men, A Very English Scandal, A Single Man, these were all at some point referenced or had some sort of influence on the fic), my various visits to museums (I thought a lot about Danish design, for example, in Sirius's townhouse in Chelsea, and I've been lucky enough to visit Designmuseum Denmark in Copenhagen, where I got to see some original 1950s and 1960s furniture; the V&A in London also has a very nice collection).

If you remember earlier on in the fic, Sirius and Remus pay a visit to the British Museum. The British Museum in the 1950s/1960s was a lot different to how it is today, and that’s something I had to do some reading into online (on the official website, and a few architecture sites that I found). For example, the British Library, which Remus talks about briefly, hadn’t been built yet: it was still part of the British Museum, and it was closed off to the public. When Remus and Sirius met, there were talks of giving it its own site, and that’s what we know it as today: the British Library next to St Pancras, which is open for public use. I didn’t know this before I wrote the fic, but it was important for me to get it accurate (I am a bit of a pedant but I am by no means perfect either so there is always room for error and like I said, I don't want to paint myself as some sort of expert because I am not!), so this is why Remus talks about one day wanting to become part of that project. Alas, he ends up getting a teaching role at the V&A, but I personally think that suits him better anyway.

Similarly, even though I’ve been to the British Museum myself many many times, I did a lot of digging online on their website to find out more about Sutton Hoo and when it was found, and what that display might have looked like in the early 1960s, as it was still quite a new find back then (it was discovered just before WWII I believe).

For other bits and bobs of info, I found a few personal blogs from people who grew up in the UK in the 1950s and 1960s to get some first hand accounts on what life was like (this is where I discovered the term “party line” - did you know that most people were sharing phonelines back in the day? Because I didn’t!). For music, discarding my own passion for the era, I looked up what was popular in the charts (lots of Cliff Richard and Elvis, basically), but also what people were listening to on the fringes. I read about coffee bars and where the “hip” kids used to hang out, all from blogs and first hand accounts that I found online. It’s usually a case of me googling something like “where did young people hang out in London in X era”. And then I’ll fall down a rabbit hole.

If you have access to academic journals, they’re also worth a gander. I used these for some archaeological research (particularly thinking about Remus’s field trip in Orkney - what were they researching in the 1960s? What were the topics academics were interested in)?

There is so much more. And like I mentioned, I’m not an expert in this. Just a boffin who has a genuine love for history anyway, so that certainly helps.

But I hope this is insightful!

[flyingkiki]

I Do? (1/?)

NEW #TIMRAE SERIES ALERT, my lovelies!! I couldn’t help myself. This came to me and I needed to get this going. Steam up ahead! Celebrating a steamy Valentine’s Day month for our favorite little birbs!

Full chapter 1 one now up! All the chaotic goodness is below the line. As promised - multi-chaptered, multi-chaos, and multi-steamy.  

Hi! @athenadione!!! hihihi.  

~

When Tim woke up the next day, he felt like a 10-wheeler truck had run over him. His head was pounding, quite literally close to exploding, and he could barely see through the haze of pain. Blindly pushing his blanket off his naked torso, he silently groaned at the movement and willed the world to stop spinning. He silently wondered just how tired he was from last night’s mission.

Rolling to his side, Tim groaned at the movement and felt his world cant dangerously to the side. His stomach lurched and he closed his eyes in a silent prayer top stop the treacherous motions. His world seemed to take another dip again, in a soft up and down motion, before stilling as he pressed his eyes tighter together. Pressing his face into his pillow, he gathered every ounce of his willpower to pull himself up into a seated position and grab the glass of water he usually would leave next to his bedside table the night before.

With a soft groan, Tim heaved himself up and pressed his bare back against his headboard. He was mildly aware that his rather naked legs and ass easily slid against his sheets – he must have been so tired last night that he just stripped out of his clothes and tumbled into bed. Wiggling his toes to get some sense of alertness back into his body, Tim cracked open his eyes, wiped his left hand against his face, and blinked blearily at his bedroom.

He immediately noticed several things:

There was no water next to him on his bedside table.

The ugly vase that Dick gave to him as a birthday present all those years ago was broken in one corner of the room.

Clothes were strewn all over the room – some of it definitely not his own.

There was someone in his bed.

Tim’s stomach churned and he momentarily broke through his delirious haze and stared at the painfully familiar asleep face that had turned to him. His chest tightened in panic and he felt a million warning bells go off in his head as he searched for at least one memory from last night. Last night’s debrief came to mind and that was it. Tim silently panicked – what exactly happened last night?

He watched in slow motion as the woman shifted next to him, bare shoulder peeking through his comforter as she curled towards him, making Tim all too aware that she was naked. He felt her feet brush against his right leg and he heard her sigh in content.

His gaze drifted to her small hand splayed over his pillow, familiar shoulder length black hair tangled into her fingers. Tim felt his panic immediately rise to this throat as his gaze dropped to the gold ring on her ring finger. Married. His pain addled brain told him she was not married because he had reread her files before she came to Gotham for the mission. So –?

His heart felt ready to explode as his eyes flew to his left hand. Through the haze of pain and panic, he inhaled sharply and stared at the identical gold ring on his left ring finger.

Holy fucking shit.

Tim felt his stomach take another painful lurch and his mind swam through the fog of last night, trying to make sense of what exactly happened in the last – he checked his watch – 7 hours. He could hear his ears ringing and he felt his chest tighten.

Next to him, Tim felt the bed move again followed by a soft sigh. He wondered if he was going to have a heart attack as his heart beat pounded in his chest and watched familiar deep blue eyes open slowly and blink blearily into his pillow.

“Your emotions are so loud,” she croaked into his pillows.

Tim watched a little breathlessly as his bedmate sleepily pressed her face into his pillow before slowly uncurling next to him. Dark blue eyes blinked up at him and he watched as her brows slowly drew together in confusion, and probably pain, as she finally registered him next to her. In bed.

“Oh shit,” Raven breathed.

Holy fucking shit indeed, Tim thought. His breath caught in his throat as he watched Raven slowly wake up and realization dawned in her eyes. She shrank into his bed, her blue eyes catching his own. “Tim,” she whispered, drawing out his name breathlessly as she stared at his chest then back at his face. Her fingers instinctively drew around her and pulled his blankets closer to her naked chest.

“What happened last night?” she whispered harshly, pulling herself up to sit in bed next to him and she glared. She sounded exhausted, her voice rough and cracking. Raven tugged the blanket around her chest tighter as her mind caught up with her and Tim had to hold on to his end of the blanket to avoid losing it around his waist – not that it really mattered any more, since they both obviously had sex at this point. Tim mentally groaned. Dick was going to kill him. Dragging his hand across his face again, he sighed. Scratch that – Bruce was going to kill him, Tim realized as he became all too aware again of the foreign press of a ring against his cheek. Fuck.

Tim offered her a pained look as Raven stared openly at the mess in his bedroom. His chest tightened as he watched her, things definitely should not have turned out this way. “I don’t know,” he said earnestly. He watched Raven sigh in frustration, drawing her eyebrows together and run her hand through her black hair – a tick he had observed her do over the last couple of days while she and Cyborg were helping out in Gotham. She swept her long hair over her right shoulder with a frustrated sigh. He caught sight of her slender neck and suddenly felt like he was punched in the throat. Hickeys. Lots of them ran from her shoulder to her neck – a rather large one prominently stood out just at the base of her neck.

“You don’t know?” Raven asked incredulously with a frown. It was honestly a bit surprising how well she took the whole situation, waking up naked in bed with him after a long night of sex both obviously could not remember. He figured there were stranger things that had happened in their lives. But still – this was terrible. “I cannot remember anything after last night’s debrief,” she paused as she tried to recall last night’s events. “And coffee?”

Coffee. Tim blankly stared at his hands on top of his comforter as he tried to recall going out for coffee at two in the morning. Yeah – they somehow did end up getting coffee at an empty dinner. But what happened after? His mind whizzed, trying to blindly grapple through the fog when his heart stuttered to a halt as a whisper of a memory slipped through his mind – a breathy laugh, a small hand pressed into his arm, a kiss to the cheek, a soft body pressed into the corner of the booth.

Holy hell. Tim inhaled sharply and ignored the warm jolt that spread through his body. He backpedaled from the whispy memory because this was certainly not the time to get morning wood. Oh god.

“What the fuck is this?”

Raven stared at her ring finger, her hand raised in front of her face and she gapped at the gold ring. Her eyes flew to Tim, who winced at the glare she sent him. “What the fuck did we do, Tim?!” she snapped and her eyes widened at the sight of the identical ring on his finger.

It was a stupid question, Tim thought, because if by the soreness of their bodies and the visible bruising and bite-marks along the just the right places were any indication, they both knew exactly what happened last night. “I’m trying to figure that out,” he replied, a little tense.

“Did we get married?!” she asked in bewilderment. He listened to her release a string of curses as he shifted in bed. Did they get married? Maybe the wedding rings were just that – rings. Without any legal documents, they were not technically married. Tim could check. Yeah, he thought to himself, if there was no legal document they could just sweep this – whatever this was – behind them.

Ignoring Raven, Tim groaned as he rolled himself out of bed and stood up. He was vaguely aware of the soft intake of breath and her eyes boring into his naked form. At this point he could care less with propriety – they already had sex anyway. Walking across his bedroom, albeit a little wobbly, Tim picked up his boxers and pulled them back on. He groaned, bending down made his muscles ache. Fishing through the discarded (torn) clothes on the ground, he tried to find his phone to use to hack into the civil registry system to cross check their names.

“What are you doing!?” Raven hissed watching Tim walk around naked. Tim finally found his phone in his discarded jeans. As he pulled out his phone a haphazardly folded up piece of paper fell out with it. His muscles ached as he instinctively bent down to pick up the folded piece of paper. Unfolding the piece of paper, Tim felt immediate dread pool low in his stomach. Ignoring Raven as she called his name, Tim’s heart dropped and he realized it would have been much better to have been hit by a 10-wheeler truck than find himself in this current clusterfuck they were in. Oh, Dick and Bruce were going to skin him alive. Tim blinked and stared at the cheap gaudy curved script that stared back at him.

This certifies that Timothy Jackson Wayne and Rachel Roth were united in marriage on…

“Fuck.” Tim felt like he was getting lightheaded.

He barely noticed Raven shuffle towards him, heavily bundled up in his thick comforter. Under different circumstances, he would have thought she looked cute. He sighed in resignation as he held out the crumpled paper for her to read. He watched as sheer horror crossed her face.

“Elvis officiated our wedding?!”

~

They were infected by Ivy’s pheromone pollen. Sex pollen. A pollen that lowered inhibitions, played with their desires, and made people generally horny and stupid. Raven was not sure how exactly they missed the pollen last night but she vaguely remembered the pollen did not come up when Cyborg scanned her for any injuries last night.

Raven knew that coming to Gotham for this crazy Doctor Light manhunt with Cyborg was a terrible idea. Doctor Light was in Gotham to ransack Wayne Tech and somehow ended up teaming up with Poison Ivy and Harley. Everything was fine until last night, after they apprehended their little circus. Fuck her damn life.

Raven bounced her leg absently, another nervous tick she really was not proud of. Tim and her were in back in the Batcave, they immediately drove over after this morning’s rather surprising discovery. Seeing the hulking form of Bruce Wayne dressed in a business suit had her just a tiny bit intimidated. Bruce had returned to the manor immediately after receiving a call from Tim that morning that he was unable to report to work and they had to meet back at the Cave immediately. Code Zeta, apparently – code for probably “I had a one-night stand and I got married last night in Vegas. Help.” A look of total bewilderment and sheer disbelief crossed his face after Tim explained what happened – glossing over most parts though.

Cyborg looked just about ready to blow a fuse as he all but glowered at Tim. Tim shot him a dark look as well, patience obviously drawing thin. No one in the cave was a fan of the recent developments.

“You are what?” Bruce asked, voice raised and blue eyes blown wide. Raven shrank in her oversized t-shirt and sweatpants – both Tim’s because whatever clothes she wore last night to Tim’s place were in shreds. Both seemed very eager last night to consummate their marriage.

“Married?” Tim snapped, tired of repeating himself over and over. He sat slumped on the medbay bed, sleeve rolled up for where an amused Alfred drew a blood sample earlier. Raven watched Tim scowl darkly at Bruce, who returned the scowl with equal intensity.

“What exactly happened last night?!” Cyborg growled. He stood in the middle of the Cave and glanced at the large BatComputer screen where they had scanned and uploaded Tim and Raven’s marriage certificate (Raven’s stomach heaved) and confirmed that yes, that shit was authentic and yes, Elvis officiated their wedding. His cybernetic eye flashed dangerously and glared both at Raven and Tim, though largely at Tim.

“I’d rather not give you a blow by blow,” shot back Raven, glaring back at Cyborg. Tim winced at her poor choice of words and Cyborg returned her scowl. “Because all of us in this this shitty Cave know exactly what happened last night,”

Bruce sighed loudly, swiping his hand over his face and loosened his tie. He needed to breathe. “This is a nightmare,” he grumbled and turned towards the computer.

“You’re telling me,” Raven breathed and glared at Bruce’s back as he began typing into the computer. She just wanted to go back to the Tower and forget this entire thing happened. She wanted her single status back.

“O?” Bruce called after patching in Barbara.

“Hey, B,” Raven watched as the redhead appeared on the screen. A look of surprise crossed Barbara’s face as she saw the rest of the occupants of the Cave. “I thought you guys would be back in Jump by now, Vic?”

“Looks like someone might just stay here much longer,” Cyborg grumbled and shot Raven a dirty look who quickly glared back.

“What’s going on?” Barbara cocked her head curiously.

“We have a bit of a situation,” Bruce said with a strained voice. (“Bit?!” huffed Cyborg.) “Look,” he said and sent her the scanned marriage certificate. “Could you do something about this?”

Raven watched as Barbara’s eyes widened and a look of sheer surprise crossed her face. “What the fuck,” Barbara breathed. She stared at Tim, who had walked up to Bruce with an annoyed expression. “Tim!” she hissed, drawing out his name.

Tim sighed, “Can you do something about this? Erase the files?”

Barbara hummed, typing into her computer. She made a face and looked back up at them. “You guys are definitely legally married. You even have a marriage license – how on earth did you even get a license at 3 in the morning?”

“When you’re drugged and horny anything is possible,” Raven said sardonically. Cyborg shot her pained look. Tim released a strangled groan.

Barbara made a face and returned to her typing. After a few minutes, Barbara looked up and her look was a beautiful mix of amusement and apologetic. “So,” she breathed. “I could totally erase the files, that’s easy enough,” she said.

Raven’s eyes narrowed as she caught Barbara’s tone. She watched Tim tense and cross his arms defensively. “But?” she asked.

Despite sounding apologetic, she shot them a highly amused look. “#WayneVegasWedding is currently trending number one on Twitter worldwide,” She made a face. “I don’t think there’s a lot I can do at this point to make that go away,”

“These cuties came in and got married today! Best wishes to Tim and Rachel! <3 #WayneVegasWedding,”

Raven stared in horror as Elvis’ tweet (@HoundDogVegasBoi) flashed on the screen. His ugly Elvis hairdo took up half of the picture, but there right next to the grinning Elvis impersonator was a very clear image of Tim and Raven, pressed into her each other. Tim was grinning broadly at the camera, arm slung over Raven’s shoulder while she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Is that Tim Wayne?! #WayneVegasWedding????”

“OMG. Hottie no longer on the market! #WayneVegasWedding!”

“WHO IS SHE!? Why did she take my boi? #WayneVegasWedding”

Raven glowered and several lights exploded over their heads. “Well, fuck.”

[rosyfingereddawnn]

only the black rose (chapter 2)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: mature language (a given), fluff, and a (possibly) pretentious description of the rain song

words: 4k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: not beta’d. this story does follow a playlist of mine, because i put too much thought into things. i hope you enjoy :)

masterlist

playlist

chapter one

----------

Tearing down the hallway, cheeks still flaming red from the encounter with Jimmy just minutes ago, Layla nearly runs into Peter, with one John Paul Jones trailing behind him. She rushes past quickly, head down, darting into the washroom that Robert, thankfully, had the mind to point out during the tour of the facility, ignoring their worried glances and aborted questions all the while. The young woman bolts the door shut and rushes to the sink, splashing her face with the frigid water flowing from the tap.

“Shit! This can’t be happening!” She whispers, concern etched on her face at the thought of all that has happened that day. Her jumbled thoughts are soon interrupted by a knock at the door. From behind it, a familiar voice sounds.

“Layla, it’s Peter! Jonesy is here too. Can we come in?”

Silently, Layla unlocks the door, and returns to her vigil at the sink. The two men enter, giving her worried looks that go unseen. Unexpectedly, it’s Jonesy that breaks the silence that has cultivated between the trio.

“Layla, are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“...”

“Well, I think what Jonesy means is that... You’ve had a stressful day, dear, and you looked anxious when you ran in here. Also, Robert walked by just a few minutes ago, smiling ear-to-ear. Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Peter, he didn’t do anything wrong…” Layla sighs, debating whether she should tell them the whole truth. Remembering the key she had discovered earlier, she pulls it out, and reads the address carved onto the bronze surface. “I’m fine, it’s just… Everything that happened today, it just sunk in? I don’t want to bother you all more than I have already, but I don’t exactly have a car, and I should really be getting home.”

“Of course. I’m sorry we kept you this long, Layla. Though, before you go,” Peter says, fishing a notepad and a ballpoint pen out of his pocket, scribbling a number down onto the paper and ripping it out of the small book. “Here. This is my personal number. I’d like it if you called every so often. As much as they would hate to admit it, these boys have taken a bit of a shining to you.”

“Actually, Peter, could I drive Layla?” Jonesy cut in, smiling lightly at the woman. “There’s something I’d like to talk to her about. Only if you’re okay with that, Layla.”

“Of course, Jonesy. I’d like that.” Layla smiles at Jonesy, and the three of them exit the washroom, Jonesy leading Layla to his car parked out back. Once inside, Jonesy starts up the radio, an Elvis song crackling through on low volume. The man pulls the car out onto the street, and starts the drive over to Layla’s house. Lost in her thoughts regarding what she might find once she gets to her destination, Layla almost doesn't register Jonesy’s deep voice calling her name.

“Sorry, Jonesy, what were you going to say?”

“I know you’re not from here.”

“God, again with the accent? Fine! I’m Canadian, and after high school I moved to—”

“No,” Jonesy sighs, steeling himself for the conversation. “I mean… I know you’re not from this time. You aren’t supposed to be here. In 1975.”

“John… How…”

The man in question, sensing that this wasn’t a conversation to be had while driving, pulls over, and turns to the dazed woman beside him. Her mouth is hanging wide open, lips moving as though she was trying to form words, though nothing comes out.

“Look…”

“What the fuck?”

“I know you’re shocked, Layla. I was too, the first time I witnessed it,” Jonesy puts a gentle hand on Layla’s arm, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. “I know you’re not from now, for lack of a better term, because I have seen this kind of thing before.”

“Jonesy, I don’t…”

“When I was a session man, working with plenty of different bands, I saw a lot of weird things. The weirdest, however, was when, right in the middle of a session, the band’s guitarist disappeared.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Never halting his comforting ministrations, Jonesy continues, sympathy dripping from his voice. “He was in the producer’s booth, listening to a playback while we were fooling around with our instruments. We heard a huge crash, and saw sparks, so we all rushed over to check on him.”

“Then what happened?”

“We couldn’t find him,” Jonesy sighed, eyebrows furrowing. “He was gone for about a day or two, but we were all incredibly worried, so when we heard that he was found, we rushed over to see him. The only thing he said about what had happened to him, was that he ‘figured it out’.”

“That’s all he said?”

“He did say later that he wanted to write a song about time travel,” Jonesy laughs softly, Layla joining in. “Not sure if it ever came to fruition though.”

Layla sobers up now, glancing at her companion helplessly. What if she can’t go home, to her own time? What if she can’t ‘figure it out’? Almost as though he could see the cogs turning in Layla’s brain, Jonesy moves his hand from her arm to rest on her knee, a grounding weight for the anxious woman.

“Layla, I’ll help you figure it out. We’ll get you back home. We can figure it out, just like he did. It will be okay.”

The woman in question can only nod wordlessly, struck by the devotion of her new friend. Jonesy, deeming her to be okay, starts up the car again. A couple minutes pass as Elvis is traded in for Buddy Holly, until Jonesy finally breaks the relative silence.

“So… You and Jimmy?”

“Nothing’s going on with Jimmy.”

“Right,” Jonesy laughs, shaking his head, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Because you didn’t look at him like he hung the stars the first time you saw him, and he certainly didn’t rush past me in the hallway earlier, face the colour of a tomato, Robert’s laugh echoing off the walls behind him.”

“How did you…What?”

“Layla, I’m very observant. Just… Be careful with him, okay? You have to go back sometime, and I know him. He’ll take it hard, and… Things happen, I know they do, but please… Just try and be careful.”

“... John Paul Jones… Are you giving me the shovel talk?”

Laughter fills the small car as they drive through streets that become increasingly familiar. The pair finally pull up to their destination, and Layla is shocked to find that she’s staring back at what looks to be her flat, from her own time. With a hug and sincere words of gratitude, Layla climbs the stairs to the front door, and pushes the key into the lock. Holding her breath, she pushes the door open. Everything is exactly the way it was the day before. The empty coffee mug by the sink remained, and the mail on the dining table hadn’t moved an inch. She rushes upstairs, to find that the turntable was still there, open, though there was no record inside. There were scorch marks on the carpet. Layla throws out a hand, pressing it to the turntable, expecting sparks once more.

Nothing happens.

----------

“Hello?”

“Is… Is this Peter Grant?”

“Layla! I was beginning to think you’d never call,” A chuckle sounds from the other end of the line, tinny through the aged receiver. “How have you been, dear? The boys have been asking about you.”

“Oh? What are they saying?”

“My Goodness, it never stops. I’m surprised they’re not right up against me listening in. It’s always ‘Peter, when is Layla coming back? Peter, Layla could get a job here, as a roadie! Peter, we need our little dove, she’s our good luck charm!’”

“Well… I can guess who the last one came from. Peter, would it be okay if I came down again today? I really did have a good time, despite the circumstances.”

“Of course, of course! You’re welcome anytime, my dear. Here, I’ll send one of the boys out to fetch you. Lord knows they need it, they’re bouncing off the walls with energy.”

Another bout of laughter crackles across the line, and Layla pictures the kind, comforting smile almost permanently etched onto Peter’s face. “Wonderful! Thanks again, Peter. I’ll see you soon!”

“Goodbye, Layla. See you soon.”

“Oh! Peter, before you hang up! I gave the clothes you lent me a wash, and I’ll return them right away!”

Silence, only for a second, seeps into the conversation, until a scoff from the older man cuts it like a knife. “My dear, keep them. Jimmy won’t miss them. In fact, I remember hearing him say to Bonzo earlier, that they ‘look better on Layla anyways.’ Well, I should let you go. We’ll see you soon.”

The line goes dead, and it is not hard to imagine the grin on the man’s face before he hung up. Regardless of if he was telling the truth about what Jimmy had said, the young woman couldn’t help but swoon a little, shades of red dancing across her cheeks. She looks at the neatly folded pile of clothes beside her, and, pressing her nose to the fresh fabric of the sweater, she puts it on. Even with the magic of the washing machine, it still held a foreign scent; one of cigarette smoke, pine and citrus, which harmonized with the subtle smell of the detergent she had used. It was a scent that, on paper, sounded like an odd combination, yet Layla could hardly get enough of it. She had smelled it just the other day, in the studio, when Jimmy was above her, jade eyes boring into hers, curls a midnight halo framing his porcelain face.

The honking of a car horn shatters her concentration, and as she looks out to the street for the source of the disturbance, she sees the grinning face of John Bonham, who is hanging halfway out of the open window, waving frantically.

“Layla! Get in, you slowpoke!”

“God, Bonzo, you’re gonna wake up the whole country if you keep that up!”

“As if that wasn’t the goal, birdie.”

“Birdie? Seriously? My God, you guys are just asking to get hit.”

“By you? Birdie, you couldn’t even reach my face if I was sitting down.”

“Bold of you to assume I’d go for the face first,” A smile of feigned innocence, blooms on Layla’s face. “Question, Bonzo. How much do you value your kneecaps?”

“Ah!” Bonzo exclaims, laughing loud, carefree. “Smart girl, smart girl. Maybe we’ll call you whenever we have arguments.”

“Jonesy’s short enough, just call him. I reckon he could do some damage from down there.”

Peals of laughter ring through the car, just audible under the din of the music that Bonzo insisted on blaring as the newfound friends cruise to the studio. Finally arriving at their destination, the drummer sends a glance over to his companion, taking into account the sweater she is wearing. He lets out a sudden snort, and hides his laughter in his hand. Layla, noticing this odd display shoots him a concerned look.

“You okay, Bonham?”

“You know, birdie, there are other ways to become Ms. Page...”

“...Get out.”

“Layla, you realize this is my car, right?” Layla gives him a heated glare, and as though he could physically see the daggers she was aiming at him, Bonzo exits the car in a huff, mumbling about how “it was just a joke…”

Allowing herself a private smirk, Layla exits the car, hurrying to catch up with her friend, short legs working a mile a minute. Reaching the man, she slings a companionable arm around his waist, and immediately feels an arm wrap around her shoulders in response. The two friends enter the building, giggling anew.

“Layla!” A chorus of voices echoed off the marble floors of the lobby, accompanied by a stampede of approaching footsteps, and the woman in question was swiftly bombarded with a chorus of arms around her, squeezing tightly.

“Really feeling the love here, guys, but I can’t breathe…” The arms relinquish their hold immediately, and Layla is met with the ecstatic faces of her new friends.

“Nice sweater, love.” Jimmy pipes up, sharing a subtle smile with the woman.

“Jim, don’t be surprised if you never get that sweater back. She’s attached now!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I think she looks stunning in it.” Gone is the bumbling, shy man from before, replaced by confidence and charm. Layla smiles, enjoying this new side of the raven-haired guitarist.

“...Anyways… Little dove, we were just about to rehearse, would you like to sit in?” Robert hooks his arm through hers, an innocent wink tossed haphazardly over his shoulder at the guitarist, who only smirks and shakes his head.

“I would love to, blondie, but enlighten me real fast,” Layla says, giggling at the golden-haired man. “What exactly are you rehearsing for?”  

“I’m glad you asked, Layla,” Jimmy says, swiftly taking her other arm, uncharacteristically playful. “We have a very important tour of North America coming up, and it would be a shame if we came in unprepared, wouldn't it?”

“That’s really cool!” Layla exclaims, exhilaration clear on her face.

“We’ve got some practice shows in Belgium and the Netherlands, and then we’ll be off to the Promised Land.”

“‘The Promised Land’? You guys really need to get out more.”

This is met by raucous laughter by the band, much to the confusion of the woman.

“Oh, sweet, sweet, naive Layla…”

“Remember what I said in the car, Bonzo? About the hitting?” This is accompanied by a friendly smirk, typical of the woman.

“You have so much to learn…” Jimmy continues mischievously, green eyes glinting, earning a strong glare.

“Little dove has such attitude, she’s basically one of us,” Robert sighs dreamily, no doubt playing it up for Layla, earning a chuckle from her in response.

“Okay, now that that’s all over and done with,” Jonesy’s steely blue-gray eyes survey the group, stern as they lock onto the eyes of the band. “Let’s actually play for her. Once in a lifetime opportunity here, Layla.”

“Glad stardom hasn't gone to your head, guys. Truly the most humble group I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Laughter accompanies the group as they make their way to the studio, intent on blowing Layla’s mind.

----------

“How about a little Rain Song, boys?” Jimmy says, tuning up the acoustic guitar in his hands, as though it was delicate and precious.

“You just wanna impress Layla, don’t you, Pagey?” Jonesy smirks, teasing the guitarist. Jimmy flushes, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, the shy man from before making his brief return.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Jonesy,” Jimmy shoots back, trying for nonchalance, the slight waver in his dulcet voice giving him away. “Does ‘Rain Song’ work for everyone, or are we picking something different?”

A smattering of “works for me,” sounds throughout the studio, and the boys launch right in. Soft sounds of falling rain pour out of the guitar, and Robert’s golden voice floats out like streams of sunlight. Jonesy’s piano trickles through, a mist amongst the downfall, Bonzo’s soft drum beats claps of thunder. The music picks up, becomes harder, like wind in the face of a torrential storm, and then all is still, Robert crooning all the while. Layla is mesmerized, unable to look away at the boys, seemingly glowing with the influence of the music they play. A fragile silence follows the last tinkling of raindrops, one that the occupants of the room are afraid to break.

“... So? How was it?” Bonzo is the first to speak, an apprehensive grin gracing his face.

“It was… You just…”

“Never thought we’d make you speechless, little dove.”

“Ignoring that. It was truly incredible, guys.” Layla’s face lights up in an excited smile, chestnut eyes sparkling as though reflected in a clear pool. The young woman locks eyes with Jimmy then, who sends her a shy smile her way, arresting her where she stands. Layla looks away quickly, cheeks warm.

“Jonesy, your keyboard playing was incredible! It sounded like tiny raindrops! Bonzo, your drumming was just… It was so good! It sounded like thunder, and broke through the rest of the instruments perfectly. Robert, as much as I truly hate to say this…”

“Hey!”

“You were beyond words. You owned those lyrics, and made them almost come alive. I truly felt them. Jimmy… Your guitar. It drove the whole storm, and paired with Jonesy’s little droplets... It was great.  I can’t say enough about this whole performance.”

“I knew we kept her around for a reason.” Bonzo snorts, closing the distance first to hug the young woman, Jonesy following with a smile painted on his aristocratic features.

“Little dove, has anyone ever told you that you should be a music critic?”

“A few times. Now get over here, blondie. You too, Page.”

The embrace is interrupted by the click of the studio door being opened, revealing the hulking figure of the usually soft-natured Peter Grant. Taking in the scene before him, he chuckles heartily, his smile never slipping. Walking over to the group, he claps his hands together in delight.

“I’m glad you’re all getting on. Boys, that was another wonderful performance. If you perform like that on Saturday? God, we’ll rule the world!”

“We’ll need our good luck charm, though.” Jimmy gestures towards Layla, winking at her conspiratorially.

“Peter, is there any way we can bring Layla over?”

“I’m sure we can work something out, Percy. Layla, would you like to join us?”

“Well… I’m sorry, but I’m not sure if I could manage, with the finances of it all. I don’t exactly have a job at the moment...” Layla says sheepishly, eyes cast downwards in embarrassment. Peter scoffs and shakes his head in response, placing his large hand on the young woman’s shoulder.

“My dear, you wouldn’t have to pay even one pence,” Pete explains, kind eyes reassuring as they gaze at the woman in front of him. “Though, if you are worried about something like that, we do always need help in the wings, if you’re interested?”

“Peter, are you sure? I couldn’t just—”

“Layla, for the love of God, just say yes?” Jonesy mutters, huffing out a laugh at the display of stubbornness in front of him.

“I mean, if you’re sure… I’d love to.”

“Wonderful! Now, we leave on Friday. We’ll pick you up at your flat, just make sure you’re packed, dear. We’re happy to have you on board.”

----------

As the calendar pinned to the wall is steadily painted in royal blue ink, Layla’s excitement grows. One more day, and she’ll be on the road, living it up. January 10th couldn't come any faster, it seemed to Layla.

The shrill ringing of the phone interrupts her musings, and as Layla hurries to answer, a smile grows on her face at the thought of the days ahead. As much as she tries to deny it, Layla felt quite fond of the boys already.

“Hey, little dove, I’m leaving right away to pick you up. I’ll explain what’s going on in the car. You don’t need to bring anything. See you in 15.”

“Robert? What—”

“Oh, and Layla?” Smugness dripping from his voice, Layla can already see the cheshire grin the man is sporting, “Wear something nice.”

“Robert—”

Click.

Shock freezing her in place, Layla shakes her head, a featherlight smile gracing her lips. Flying up the stairs to her bedroom, Layla picks out a pair of merlot bell bottoms, paired with a cropped bell-sleeved shirt, a snowy white in colour. Rings scattered across her hands, Layla looks in the mirror, applying some light makeup. Seeing a car pull up to her house, a sleek, rich red against the stormy gray of the curb, she rushed downstairs, waving at the driver. Stepping into the vehicle, she turns to her friend, who smirks, looking her up and down.

“I said to dress nice… This is gonna kill the man.” Robert scoffs, mutters under his breath, tugging playfully on a perfect brown ringlet of Layla’s hair.

“Robert, what’s going on? Why couldn't you explain over the phone?”

“Well, I couldn’t let a certain someone overhear my master plan, could I?” This is met with a blank look from the passenger of the vehicle, and, glancing over quickly, Robert cackles.

“Listen up, little dove,” Robert says, whispering mischievously, starting up the car and pulling away from the flat, “It’s Jimmy’s birthday, and the lot of us were planning something. It would be a shame if we didn’t get his favourite girl in on the secret too!”

“Favourite girl?”

“Oh come on, Layla. Don’t tell me you’re that oblivious!” Robert scoffs, lazily throwing his head to the side to look at his companion, golden locks flying every which way, “The man can’t take his eyes off of you. It’s a whole subject of conversation when you’re not around. I can tell by the colour of your cheeks that you might feel the same…”

“If I say yes, will you drop it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Should have known… Anyways, what’s the plan here?” Robert winks at her in response, ocean eyes glinting in the warm afternoon sun.

“So, you know quite a bit about guitars, hey?”

“A fair amount? I used to play. What does that have to do with Jimmy’s birthday, though?”

“Well,” Robert starts, grin growing at the confusion of his friend, “We’re gonna throw a little get-together at the studio, but I was thinking, his favourite acoustic keeps breaking, and he hasn’t had much time to fix it yet. This is where you come in, little dove.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense here, blondie.”

“You’re gonna pick out a new acoustic for him.”

“Robert, I don’t know…”

“Don’t worry about the costs,” Robert exclaims, shaking his head vehemently, “I got it all covered. Perks of being in a famous band, I guess. Jim’s not the best at words, you’ve experienced this firsthand. He speaks with his music, and by doing this, you’re speaking his language.”

“I get that, but what… What if he doesn’t like the guitar I pick out?”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Robert laughs out, stealing a glance at his fidgeting companion. “Little dove, you could give him a trash bag and he’d still cherish it. He’ll love whatever you pick out for him.”

Robert parks the car, and turns towards his friend, taking a small hand in his, a comforting smile on his tan face. Giving the hand a squeeze, Layla steps out of the car, and, arm in arm with Robert, they walk into the store.

Strolling through the aisles, Layla was struck at the sheer beauty of the instruments in front of her. Shades of sepia and seafoam green blend into starry blues as she walks on. A body of rich mahogany catches Layla’s eye then, and she knows immediately. This is the one. The pickguard is a deep maroon with swirls of midnight black, thin rings of pristine white surrounding the sound hole. It’s perfect. Layla can’t help but stare, until she feels a tap on her shoulder, accompanied by a light peal of laughter.

“I take it, that's the one, Layla?”

Turning around, caught, Layla’s cheeks warm, and, smiling ever-so-slightly, she nods. Turning to the guitar once more, she trails her fingers across the smooth polished wood of the guitar.

“It’s perfect…”

“He’s gonna love it, just you wait.”

Layla plucks it from it’s resting spot on the wall, and, cradling it with the care of a new mother, she walks with Robert to the front of the store to pay. After a couple of autographs, and a few weird looks, the pair return to the car, finally setting their sights on the studio. Guitar case resting safely in her lap, Layla allows herself a private smile, picturing the face of the guitarist, emerald eyes filled with elation, upon seeing the gift.

“Why are your cheeks so red, little dove? Are you feeling okay?”

----------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis (let me know if you want to be added!)

[talkfastromance4]

Hi! I LOVE your stuff sooo much<3 for your 13 nights could I request 4- Michael, 5- Calum, 6- Luke, and 12- Ashton ? <3 <3 Can't wait to read them :)

6. “I want to bite you, too.” “A human’s bite won’t hurt, it would probably just tickle.”

Not even going to attempt to make this short because 1) it’s luke and 2) i’m just not capable. oh well. This is also written in third person with she/her pronouns as it’s in line with my vampire fic with Luke

Warnings: involves biting and blood drinking (nothing gory) while in a sexual situation. 

• • • •

She’d heard being feasted on by a vampire was a very tantric, electrically charged and erotic moment. It was the ultimate high and while she and Luke became more physical as their relationship continued to flourish, she began to wonder more and more what it would feel like. 

The first time she asked Luke to bite her neck he was taken aback. She always gave him a shock factor with something, he’s never met a human like her. After his initial shock, he was adamant on a hard ‘no.’ His response was so clipped she didn’t bother to push him and buried down the rejection inside her. 

The second time she asked was while they were walking his grounds. He was in the middle of retelling an encounter with Elvis when she blurted out, “I want you to bite me.”

Luke sighed, took her hands in his and brought them to his lips so he could kiss them. His crystal blue eyes stare into hers, unblinking but trying to get a read out of hers.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.

“I heard it doesn’t hurt. I trust you. I want to...be connected to you.”

“You already are connected to me, lovie,” he rests his forehead against hers. Her sweet floral scent of her blood invades his mind, but he inhales deeply. “In more ways than you know. My heart doesn’t beat but if it did it would be calling your name.”

“Then why don’t you want to?” she asks sadly. Luke groans, he hates making her feel sad.

“Believe me, I’ve wanted to since I first saw you. You may trust me but I don’t trust myself. I’m already extremely careful with you, this would be even more...demanding of my willpower that always crumbles away when I’m with you.”

“Really?” she chuckles gently.

“Yes, silly girl. You drive me insane.”

“Well...what’s it like to bite a human?”

“For me or the human?”

“Both.”

Luke sighs, he never wants to keep anything from her but also doesn’t want to share this so out in the open. There isn’t anyone for miles within earshot but this topic is touchy. Feasting on humans is what caused the mask mandate in the first place. A vampire’s bite became the most highly wanted and most illegal “drug” there is. 

He took her hand that lead her inside to his trinket room. It’s where he feels most himself, surrounded by his most prized possessions but his most valuable is Y/N. Not that she’s a possession but she’s the most valuable companion. He sits down and she drapes herself across his lap.

“Tell me,” she demands. He pokes her nose. 

“For humans it’s like a drug. I’ve heard different reactions but each one always makes the human feel light, extra light and slightly dizzy but then increases as the feast continues. Some have hallucinated, some black out, and some say it’s the ultimate high. It’s a pure form of arousal. For me--vampires--it’s very replenishing. We almost get a little buzz as well but nothing compared to a human. We’re fully satisfied and in turn, the human wants to be satisfied in other ways. Sexually.”

“Oh. So...you don’t want to bite me because you don’t want to be...I’m sorry. I don’t understand why you don’t want to,” she shakes her head. 

Luke smiles and strokes the backs of his fingers against her throat. Her skin is warm, her pulse strong but fluttering like a hummingbird. 

“I’ve already told you, I do want to. It’s just...I don’t want it to be too much for you. What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t. Please, Luke. It can only be the one time, I swear. I won’t push you but I want to experience everything I can with you. You bite me anyway so what’s the difference?”

Luke lets out a loud laugh then squeezes her thigh affectionately. “The difference is that I bite you to get you aroused, I’m not drawing blood. But all right...next time, we’ll try it and see how it goes.”

“Is it next time now?” she breathes against his curls. She kisses his temple.

“No, now it’s time for your shift at the Bar.”

**

Luke had asked Michael for help on feasting and was surprised to find that Michael had only done it once with Kitty. It was a wonderful moment shared between them but he felt like he didn’t have to keep doing it and doubts he’d ever do it again. Kitty felt the same, saying it would only be for special occasions or of the mood called for it. 

Luke felt some reassurance from that but he made a promise to Y/N and he vowed to never break a promise to her. 

After Y/N’s shift at the Bar, he drew her a bath with some lavender salts and candles. He joined her and washed her hair, pressing gentle kisses to the space between her shoulder blades. The way her heart kept jumping he knew she was thinking it would happen right now, but this was all preparation. 

He wanted her completely relaxed, her head clear of all tension. When they toweled off, they remained without clothes and he brought her to his bed. He laid her down gently and began pressing his lips to her warm skin. 

“I promised we’d try but there are some rules first,” he says swiping his tongue over her nipple. 

“Rules?” she sighs, her body already aching for more of his touch. 

“Yes, rules. First one is that you tell me to stop if you need me to stop. Don’t worry about hurting me feelings, you say the word and I’m done, all right?” he asks, eyes burning into hers. She licks her lips and nods. “Second rule, I need you to stay completely still, I’m using all my willpower. Third rule--”

“This is a very long list,” she interrupts tucking a curl behind his ear. 

Luke snags her fingers in his hand, kisses her fingertips then sets them on the bed. “Rule number three is to not touch me, just in case.”

“I can’t touch you?” she pouts.

“It might jostle you or make me release my venom.”

“Were you like this with Celeste and Simone?” she asks quietly. 

“No, because I didn’t care about them as I do you.” He leans up and kisses both her cheeks, then her lips ever so gently. “Are you ready?”

“Ready,” she exhales, her heart hammering. 

“Tell me the rules...” he whispers stamping his kisses down her jaw.

“Tell you to stop...stay still and...” she sighs as his tongue strikes across the side of her neck, “and don’t touch you.”

“That’s my good girl. Where do you want me to do it?” his lips hover over her pulse point.

“Here,” she points with a shaky finger to the space just above her left breast. 

Luke hums then travels his lips in that spot. He removes her hand gently, then sucks lightly on her skin, bringing the blood forth. He’s hyperaware of her breath, the race of her heart and the stillness of her body. He opens his mouth wider, lets his incisors extend then punctures her skin. 

She gasps and Luke moans at the warmth of her blood, it tastes a thousand times sweeter than she smells and he begins to drink. Slowly. It warms him completely, fills him with a different form of desire. Her breathing hitches, small moans bubbling up from inside her and it’s music to his ears. 

He hears her fingers tap against the sheet, aching to touch him but she listens to his orders and stays still. He’s mindful of how much he’s feasting and after one last pull, he releases his fangs then licks the puncture wound so she can begin healing. He kisses that spot multiple times, it’s a combination of her warm skin and his ice cold bite marks. 

He lifts his gaze to her and she’s completely blissed out. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes fluttering. Luke hovers above her, cups her cheek and tilts her face to look at him. 

“How are you? Are you with me?” he asks softly. 

She sighs turning into his palm. He kisses her forehead, then her eyelashes before stopping at her ear. “Are you dizzy?” She makes a small grunting noise. 

He kisses her cheek then rushes to his cupboard downstairs that holds all of her favorite sweet treats. Sugar usually helps the humans after a feasting, it helps them come down. While he gazes at his supply she begins to cry for him, calling his name. 

He chooses a candy bar than flies back to his room where he finds her trying to fall off the bed. Tears fall down her cheek and he’s quick to cradle her in his arms. 

“I’m right here, lovie. Here, eat this.” He rips open the candy bar and holds it to her lips. “This will help.”

She nibbles on the chocolate, eyes still partially closed as she tries to swim through her head. Luke’s heard after a feasting the humans are in a sort of subspace. He’s never done after care with anybody else (especially with Celeste and Simone) but he cares deeply for Y/N. 

“Better?” he asks after she takes a few more bites. 

“Mhm,” she sighs nuzzling into his chest. Her fingers curl into his light chest hair. “I want to bite you, too.”

Luke smiles, kisses her hair and strokes her cheek with his thumb until her eyes open a bit wider. They’re glazed over. 

“A human’s bite won’t hurt, it would probably tickle.”

“Please?” her mouth opens the tiniest bit as she attempts to nip at his chest. She just ends up falling into him and Luke chuckles. 

“Let’s discuss this when you’re more coherent, lovie, okay?” 

She sighs again and Luke gazes out his window. The moon is high in the sky and the way it reflects on her skin, illuminating her, he’s come to a realization. He can’t exist without her, she’s officially become a part of him that has overridden the other feasting he’s done in his existence. 

Should he change her if she feels the same? They could marry and have children of their own while she was human but eventually she would die. This is also why he didn’t want to bite her, he knew the bond would be concrete, set in stone just like his heart that somehow still sings for her. 

• • • •

Taglist: @calpalirwin  @thecurlsofgod @myloverboyash @rotten-kandy @tea4sykes @jannimoeller3 @loveroflrh @iovehemmings @cxddlyash @princesslrh  @katiaw2 @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass @gosh-im-short @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby @spicycal @mysticalhood @notinthesameguey @wastedheartcth @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally @calumance @babylon-corgis @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @lanternlover2 @istaywithmyjonas @calteahood @sarcastically-defensive17 @another-lonely-heart @devilatmydoor @frontmanash @philthepegacorn @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings @addietagglikesbands @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke @mayve-hems @morguelth @haikucal @thatscooibaby @meghanrose05 @idontneedanyone @dinosaursandsocks @haveufoundwhaturlooking4 @suchalonelysunflower @burstintocolor @zhangyixingxing1 @dead-and-golden @mymindwide @everyscarisahealingplace @stardust-galaxies @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @lovelybonesetc @karajaynetoday @quasighost @i-like-5sos @creampiecashton @calpops

[chilling-seavey]

When Universes Collide - The AU Mini Series

The Lotus Inn is a place we all know well; and a place where all universes collide in a small ripple of the time space continuum. It’s the spot for characters of alternate universes to meet and interact – even those who are from vastly different worlds and timelines. In this one-shot, the characters from the universes of this blog gather for lunch at the Lotus Inn restaurant and discuss their similarities and differences.

Warning: This does contain spoilers to any and all fics on my blog so read with caution if you haven’t read all of them!

A/N This obviously isn’t part of any timeline and is just something I wrote for fun with a bit of help from T-Anon and @randomlimelightxxx​! To tell each Daniel apart, they will be called by their fic name as their formal title…it might be a bit awkward at first but it would be the only way to not confuse the heck out of you since there are five nearly identical looking Daniel’s sitting around one table. (Also, I see this play out like a stage performance in my head which is weird).

A/N2 Let’s see how many times the word ‘Daniel’ is used in this story

The Lotus Inn – 11:54am

A table for five sat empty in the corner of the restaurant. The room was trimmed in purple neon lights and decorated in floral pictures with an old brick wall supporting the large bar along the back. It wasn’t busy as the crowd usually came in for the daily after-dinner partying and the quietness of the restaurant was only filled with the bar tender wiping down the glasses to stock.

The door to the restaurant opened and a stream of bright light pooled into the room from the outside, nearly brightening the space more than what the large paned windows along the from wall allowed. In stepped a young man, his hesitation obvious as he stepped over the threshold and his blue eyes scanned his surroundings. He wore a military uniform that was ironed to perfection, donned in two well dressed medals on his left breast, and he took off his matching cap when he stepped inside, offering a stiff nod in greeting to the bartender.

Passchendaele Daniel

Age 22

He was the first to arrive and he made his way over to the reserved table in the corner, sitting on the chair closest to the door. Habit. Made for an easy getaway if it was ever needed. He held his hands together on his lap, back straight, and his flat expression starting to fall into space.

The restaurant stayed silent. The bartender kept to himself and the few other patrons sat on the far side of the room, minding their own business.

The door opened again and a voice fell inside along with another pool of light.

“She’s a one-year-old, Jack, give her a cookie and sing her a song and she’ll go right to sleep. Ask the other two for help; they’re great with her. I can’t come back now, my meeting has barely even started. I’ll be an hour, tops. I think you can survive that long.”

The slightly older man who just came in had his cellphone pressed to his ear and closed the door calmly behind him. He looked a bit flustered and definitely tired; his dyed blonde hair was faded to mostly its natural brown tones again and he shoved his car keys in his pocket messily as he listened to whatever his friend was saying through the line.

Anything But Mine Daniel

Age 25

His blue eyes landed on the young man already at the table and he paused in spot for a moment before saying much quieter into his cell phone, “I gotta go. I’ll call you after.”

He hung the phone and headed slowly over to the table, holding out his hand to the man in front of him.

“Hey. Nice to meet you. I’m Daniel.”

Passchendaele Daniel glanced up at him and then to his out stretched hand and pulled a tight smile before taking his handshake, “Myself as well.”

They shared soft smiles as Anything But Mine Daniel sat down in the chair on his other side. They fell into a momentary silence, not quite knowing what to say at first. It was a strange situation to be in: staring at yourself from another universe and entirely different timeline.

Gentle music filled the restaurant and the two young men glanced across the room to the jukebox. A third stood in front of it, having just slid in a quarter to select a record, and the gentle voice of Elvis brought liveliness to the restaurant. He turned with a pleasant smile, his hair slicked back in a soft wave, and startled slightly by the older two staring back at him.

Heartbreak Hotel Daniel

Age 18

He offered them a crooked smile and headed over to join them, “Hi.”

They shared their introductions – being easy since they all shared the same name and nearly the same face – and Heartbreak Hotel Daniel took his spot across from Anything But Mine Daniel. He glanced over at the man in his old military uniform beside the oldest but looked away against before he could be caught staring. He adjusted the collar of his button-up shirt and dropped his shy gaze to the wood table top.

“What desserts do you offer here?”

The three men all looked towards the bar where another was stood on the bottom brass foot rest of the bar counter to stand higher, holding himself up on the marble top as he spoke to the bartender. He wore a Georgian style suit, dressed poshly down to the puffed tie in the collar of his pale blue jacket and shiny black shoes, his soft brown hair brushed pristinely over his forehead.

Amoureux Daniel

Age 17

The bartender eyed the young prince for a moment and then simply gestured to the menu hung on the brick wall behind him.

“I’ll just take the lot of it.”

He slid a few paper bills across the counter before heading over to the reserved table. His smile was wide and infectious and he offered firm handshakes around the table.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Prince Daniel of York. Second in line to the British throne.”

“Royalty at our table? That’s unbelievable.” ABM Daniel gaped, eyeing the youngest’s clothes as he plopped himself down in the free chair across from Passchendaele Daniel.

“Forget Royalty. I’m going to be a composer.” Amoureux Daniel tisked as he leaned back and loosened his tie around his neck to let himself breathe before rolling up his sleeves too.

“A composer? I’m in music professionally. What do you play? Piano?” ABM Daniel asked.

“Piano and cello. Piano’s my favourite though.” Amoureux Daniel grinned.

“Mine as well.” Passchendaele Daniel smiled shyly.

“You as well? Oh, splendid.” Amoureux Daniel clapped excitedly. “I was worried you lot would be as lame as my older brother honestly.”

Passchendaele Daniel’s smile fell as fast as it was formed and he dropped his head down. The other three easily saw this change and the youngest two from across the table habitually looked the eldest for guidance. ABM Daniel’s eyes were wide with surprise and he set a gentle hand on Passchendaele Daniel’s shoulder.

He spoke softly, “Are you okay?”

“I…” Passchendaele Daniel took a moment to compose himself before looking up into the friendly eyes of his older counterpart, “I lost my brother in the war. He was my best friend.”

“Shit.” Amoureux Daniel breathed from across from him.

Heartbreak Hotel Daniel slowly pressed his hand to his mouth in shock.

ABM Daniel hesitated a moment but gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze, “I’m really sorry.”

Passchendaele Daniel only shrugged lightly, “It is what it is, I suppose.”

“What war were you in? The First World War or the Second?” Heartbreak Hotel Daniel asked as gently as he could around the obviously traumatised man.

Passchendaele Daniel’s eyes went wide in fear suddenly and he looked between the other three guys, “There is a second?!”

“I didn’t even know there was one in the first place.” Amoureux Daniel said in defence as he reached for one of the desserts before the bartender could even set the plate down at their table.

ABM Daniel and HH Daniel exchanged wide eyed glances before looking back at the frightened soldier. ABM Daniel rubbed his hand over his back soothingly, offering the best reassurance he could, “Not in your time, don’t worry. But I think we need a new topic to talk about now.”

“Please.” Passchendaele Daniel mumbled thankfully.

“Isn’t there supposed to be a fifth one of us here too?” HH Daniel asked.

“I thought so too.” ABM Daniel pulled out his cell phone to check the time.

“What is that?” the other three young men asked him at the same time.

ABM Daniel glanced up at them and looked between their mirrored confused expressions like he was sitting at a table with triplets. Different brunette hair styles and different clothing but all with the same light blue eyes and youthful faces. He looked back down at his iPhone and held it up slightly, “This?”

They all nodded.

“It’s my cell phone.”

“It’s a telephone? Where’s the chord?” HH Daniel asked, leaning over the table to lift it up as if to look for the chord that should have somehow attached him to the wall.

“Where is the handset?” Passchendaele Daniel added. “If there is no handset, how do you hear your friends?”

“I have no bloody clue what the hell any of you are talking about.” Amoureux Daniel laughed through a mouthful of cake.

ABM Daniel smiled and looked between the other three, “I guess that’s right since you are all from the past, huh? Well in my time they make telephones that can go in your pocket. They don’t need chords.”

“That’s brilliant.” Passchendaele Daniel breathed. “And you can talk to your friends into that little box?”

“Yeah. Wanna hold it?” ABM Daniel offered.

HH Daniel leaned over the table to get a look as Passchendaele Daniel carefully took the iPhone from ABM Daniel and cradled it in his two hands like it would break if the wind blew too hard. The screen lit up as a text message came through and Passchendaele Daniel gasped in surprise, staring down at the lit-up screen and the little box that read words.

ABM Daniel reached over to swipe away the notification, revealing his lockscreen wallpaper: a photograph of his family from the day his youngest was born, all cuddled up together on the couch.

“Is that your family?” HH Daniel asked, still leaning over the table.

“Yeah. It is.” ABM Daniel smiled widely, taking his phone to set it on the table for all of them to see, “That’s my wife, Florence, and our girls; Clementine, Penelope, and Lucy.”

“That’s so sweet.” Amoureux Daniel said, “I just had a son a few months back.”

“You have a child?” HH Daniel gaped over at him. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

“You have a kid at seventeen?”

“Yes. Ran off and got married young. He’s just born so no need to have a fit.” Amoureux Daniel snickered teasingly. He picked up the plate of desserts and held it out to him. HH Daniel stared down at the desserts for a beat but then shook his head politely.

“My wife is expecting our first child.” Passchendaele Daniel spoke gently.

“Oh, congratulations!” ABM Daniel said, helping himself to a dessert from the spread.

“Yes, thank you.” Passchendaele Daniel mumbled. “I am a bit frightened; I must admit.”

“Parenthood is a scary thing but it’s also the most amazing thing you could ever experience.” ABM Daniel assured him as he slid his phone back into his pocket. “I am sure you will be a great dad.”

Before anyone else could speak, loud muffled music could be heard from outside the restaurant and they all turned to looked out the large front windows; watching as a shiny white Tesla pulled up to the curb. The music cut off as the drivers side door opened and their fifth guest stepped out. His hair was dyed blonde and hair sprayed to messy perfection and the sunglasses perched on his nose were designer, his whole outfit dripping in expensive pieces, down to his leather pants and black boots and silver chain hung around his neck.

He came inside the restaurant and everyone’s eyes were on him – even the bar tender – as he slid off his sunglasses and offered a cool smile to the room.

Qui Totum Vult Totum Perdit Daniel

Age 23

He caught the glance of the other four young men at the table in the corner and he sauntered over to greet them. He offered a handshake to all of them before sitting at the far head of the table, “Sorry I’m so late. Promo ran later than expected.”

He glanced around the table at the four pairs of wide blue eyes staring back at him. There was a beat of silence.

“Wow, this is sick. It’s like I’m looking in four mirrors.” QTVTP Daniel chuckled. He set his sunglasses on the table. The other four pairs of eyes followed the action but they didn’t speak. “You’re right. Need to at least make up for my lateness. Hey, bartender?”

The man looked over to the table as QTVTP Daniel raised his hand up to get his attention, “Pitcher of water, round of beers, and let’s get some appetizers? Give us your top…six sellers. All on my card.”

“You don’t have to pay for all of us.” ABM Daniel said.

“Let me. It’s the least I could do. You come all the way out here to this shabby hotel and I’m thirty minutes late.”

The bartender brought over the pitcher of water, five glasses, and five bottles of beer, setting them all on the table. QTVTP Daniel took out his OffWhite wallet and pulled out his credit card, passing it over to the man with a smooth thanks.

“Let’s drink, boys.” he smiled, rubbing his hands together before reaching for one of the bottles.

“I’m not of age.” HH Daniel mumbled.

“Neither am I.” Amoureux Daniel added.

“I don’t drink anymore.” Passchendaele Daniel said.

“I have to pick up my daughters after this so no alcohol for me either, thanks.” ABM Daniel finished.

QTVTP Daniel looked between the four sitting around him, “Wow. Alright. More for me then.”

ABM Daniel took the initiative to pour the others their glasses of water as he offered a casual question to the late arrival, “What promo were you at?”

“For my record company.”

All four heads snapped back up to look at him.

“You work at a record company?” HH Daniel gaped.

“Own it. Yeah.” QTVTP Daniel chuckled. “My best friend and I have owned our own company for the last…two or so years? We’ve travelled the world together. Made some music. Made a name for ourselves. It’s amazing.”

“Wow. It’s always been my dream to be a signed artist but my parents convinced me to go to university instead.” ABM Daniel said.

“It’s pretty sick.” QTVTP Daniel smirked. “You meet a lot of cool people.”

“Are you well known?” Amoureux Daniel asked. “Do you work with people such as Bach? Or Mozart?”

“Bach or Mozart? Nah. Not yet at least. But we just signed a band that dropped their second album and it went number one worldwide.”

“Good God.” HH Daniel gasped. “You’re like Elvis.”

“I guess.” QTVTP Daniel laughed lightly, taking a sip of his drink as he leaned back in his chair.

“Do you produce too?” ABM Daniel asked.

“Yeah. We do most of the producing but we write and manage too. I have an eye for the industry.”

“That’s so cool. I’m working at a production studio myself. I’d love to run some demos by you…get your professional opinion…bounce some ideas around.”

“Yeah, for sure, bro! That’d be awesome. We can do that later.”

The other three young men stayed in momentary silence, sipping their water with Amoureux Daniel nursing the plate of desserts. He glanced over at HH Daniel on his right, staring at him for a moment, especially the remanence of a bruise that was colouring just under his left eye.

“Did you get in a fight?” Amoureux Daniel asked bluntly.

HH Daniel looked over at him, watching the youngest bite into a truffle, “Yeah. Corbyn beat me up.”

That caught the table’s attention and they all looked at him in surprise.

“Corbyn hit you?” ABM Daniel gaped.

“Mhm.” HH Daniel nodded shyly. “I was trying to stick up for my soulmate and he didn’t like that I was trying to take her from him so he beat me up.”

He stood up and lifted up the bottom of his shirt to show off the fading bruise over his stomach as well. The men groaned pitifully at how obviously it must have hurt.

“My Corbyn is so nice.” Passchendaele Daniel frowned.

“Mine too.” ABM Daniel added.

“Mine’s kind of lame. Everyone in my life is lame.” Amoureux Daniel tisked.

“What? You think you’re better than everyone?” QTVTP Daniel chuckled, taking a sip from his glass bottle.

“Not necessarily. I just don’t want to have to live the same boring life that they think I need to.”

“I’ll drink to that.” QTVTP Daniel agreed.

“Here, here.” Passchendaele Daniel raised his water cup and they all held out their glasses into the middle of the table to cheers through soft laughter.

Their conversation paused a moment as they drank. HH Daniel shifted in his seat slightly, tossing back the rest of his glass of water is he had been deprived for days and set the empty glass back on the table with a loud clunk. QTVTP Daniel slid over a bottle of beer and none of them spoke as they watched him unscrew the cap and take a long sip. The eighteen-year-old grimaced through the drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You’re really going through it, bro.” QTVTP Daniel stated.

“Yeah, I suppose.” HH Daniel grumbled, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Well obviously since he got punched in the face.” Amoureux Daniel added.

“I just…” HH Daniel sighed, staring at the table top, “We have soulmates in my universe and even though I found mine…she doesn’t want me so I’m suck tasting everything she tastes and it being a constant brutal reminder of her.”

“Why doesn’t she want you?” ABM Daniel frowned.

“I’m a loser? Hell if I know.” HH Daniel scoffed, he took another long sip of the beer no matter how disgusting he thought it tasted. At least it overpowered the taste of tea that was grazing his tongue.

“There’s a girl you’re in love with who has a trashy boyfriend? Well, take it from me who has literally been in your shoes,” ABM Daniel reached across the table to grab the beer from the eighteen-year-old, “You get nowhere from drinking away the pain or hating yourself.”

“You had this happen too?” HH Daniel asked softly, hopefully.

“Yeah; was best friends with this girl I was hopelessly in love with and I had to see her go from boyfriend to boyfriend no matter how often I was there for her.”

“So what happened?”

“She became my wife eventually.” ABM Daniel smiled softly, “Just give it time. Don’t push her because she’ll just feel suffocated. Let her come to you. She’ll see what she’s missing.”

Amoureux Daniel held out the half empty plate of desserts to HH Daniel and he finally took a small pastry as the youngest said, “In addition, you are in a universe where you can taste what she tastes and, from my experience, the way to a woman’s heart – and up her skirt – is through her stomach.”

Passchendaele Daniel choked on his water while laughter rose over the rest of the table.

“What do you know about ‘going up skirts’? You’re, like, barely fifteen.” QTVTP Daniel scoffed through his disbelieving laughter.

“I am seventeen, thank you very much, and I have a baby.” Amoureux Daniel corrected, nearly boastfully. “I know just plenty about going up skirts.”

Of course, that was right when the bartender came over with their food and his confused expression had the five young men smothering back their nervous laughter. ABM Daniel and Passchendaele Daniel cleared a space on the table for the food to be set down and all five of them thanked the man before he headed back behind the bar. With a full spread in front of them, they all dug in and piled up a small plate each to start to eat. It was quiet for a moment as they got settled and started to eat, passing the salt and pepper and various plates to each other when asked. It was comfortable.

“So,” ABM Daniel broke their silence first, directing his question to Amoureux Daniel, “how did you and your wife meet?”

Amoureux Daniel cracked a cheeky smile, “Well, she came to England to marry my older brother, but she liked me better, to be blunt. We would sneak around the castle and a few times at night…you know…”

There were two ‘oo’s from ABM Daniel and QTVTP Daniel, while Passchendaele Daniel looked between them all with wide eyes.

“You…You were involved with her before you were married?” he stammered.

“While she was engaged to my brother too.” Amoureux Daniel hid his smirk behind a bite of a mozzarella stick. “My most thrilling and incredible few months, I must say.”

“Oh my gosh.” Passchendaele Daniel’s cheeks flushed a slight pink and he tugged at the collar of his uniform. “That’s…ahem…”

“Did you not go near your wife before your wedding night?” Amoureux Daniel asked bluntly.

“Let’s not go nosing into everyone’s private business.” ABM Daniel said strongly.

“Wait, I’m still confused. Where did you sneak off to?” HH Daniel asked shyly.

The table chuckled lightly – even Passchendaele Daniel cracked a nervous smile – and HH Daniel looked between all of them, waiting for an answer.

“To bed.” Amoureux Daniel laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “You’ll understand one day.”

“I…you…I-I understand perfectly well.” HH Daniel blushed furiously, turning quickly down to his plate and shoveled a nacho in his mouth to avoid continuing the conversation.

“To answer your question,” Passchendaele Daniel continued, trying to keep himself a bit brave and a bit interesting to the four other men, “No, I did not go to bed with Elizabeth until our wedding night. It did not feel right to deflower her until our union was official.”

“Deflower her.” QTVTP Daniel repeated slowly, biting back his smile as he took a sip of his beer.

“Well that’s what it is, is it not?” Passchendaele Daniel said sternly, narrowing his eyes at him. “I like to think that making love is the most sacred act and shouldn’t be just thrown around to anyone.”

“I agree.” HH Daniel mumbled, earning a thankful smile from the soldier.

“Jeez, then I’m quite the sinner.” QTVTP Daniel chuckled to himself. “I slept with my girlfriend on our first date.”

Passchendaele Daniel huffed softly and turned down to his plate. Amoureux Daniel and HH Daniel glanced at each other through the awkward tension that seemed to settle.

ABM Daniel cleared his throat, “Let’s maybe change the topic. This isn’t really lunch appropriate.”

“Wow…you are such a dad.” QTVTP Daniel snorted, shaking his head in near disbelief.

“What’s wrong with that?” ABM Daniel frowned at him. He couldn’t get much of an argument out before his phone was ringing in his pocket and he pulled it out, sighing when he read the caller ID, “Sorry, I gotta take this.”

The other four watched him get up from the table and head across the restaurant as he answered the call,

“What is it now, Jack?”

The table fell into a momentary silence.

Passchendaele Daniel broke it first with a mumble of, “Jack in my universe is dead.”

The other three looked between themselves nervously. They didn’t answer, ducking their heads down to their plates to focus on eating their lunches. No one spoke until ABM Daniel returned and he sat back down with a heavy exhale.

“Sorry, being a dad is a job that is never done. What did I miss?”

Amoureux Daniel, HH Daniel, and QTVTP Daniel just looked at him and shook their heads ever so slightly. Passchendaele Daniel sniffled, keeping his head down, and took a sip of his water.

“Everything alright back home?” HH Daniel asked softly over to ABM Daniel.

“Oh, yeah. My youngest just hates when I’m not within arm’s reach so she’s been giving Jack some trouble. She’s only one so…doesn’t know much better.” ABM Daniel smiled at only the mention of his daughters. “I have pictures…if you want to see.”

“Of course.” HH Daniel beamed.

ABM Daniel took out his phone again and opened up his photos app to swipe through a few and he passed the phone across the table. Amoureux Daniel and HH Daniel shifted closer together to see and QTVTP Daniel leaned over the side of the table to look at the pictures too. QTVTP Daniel took control of the swiping since he was the only one who knew how cell phones worked and they all smiled at the pictures on the screen, ‘awe’ing at the cutest ones.

“The baby looks just like you.” HH Daniel said. “Well…like us, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” ABM Daniel chuckled. “I get that a lot.”

Passchendaele Daniel stayed quiet on his right, eating in silence, and unbothered. He sat as if he didn’t want to draw any more attention to himself. ABM Daniel looked over at him as the other three kept scrolling through his pictures and he reached a hand onto the table to gently get his attention. Passchendaele Daniel looked up at him with a flat expression and almost tearful eyes.

“Are you alright?” ABM Daniel asked softly.

“I don’t do well without my Elizabeth.” Passchendaele Daniel whispered for only him to hear. ABM Daniel was always the best listener and the easiest to talk to and it was obvious to the struggling soldier that he was someone he could trust.

“Do you have a picture of her?” ABM Daniel offered, as some way to keep his mind busy but happy.

A small smile perked at the side of Passchendaele Daniel’s lips and he nodded, reaching into his uniform jacket and he pulled out a small sepia photograph and held it out to his new acquaintance. ABM Daniel smiled thankfully at him and took the photograph, looking down at the old fashion photograph of the gentle young blonde woman.

“She’s beautiful.” ABM Daniel said politely.

“She is. I’m the luckiest man in the whole world to have her. She saves my life every day.” Passchendaele Daniel breathed, his gentle smile grazing his lips ever so delicately as if he was in deep thought.

Three teasing exclaims from across the table caught their attention and ABM Daniel quickly reached over to snatch his phone back. The picture they had swiped to was of Florence in nothing but a small towel blow-drying her hair in the bathroom mirror; a simple moment that ABM Daniel couldn’t help but capture with her in all her natural beauty.

“No more of that.” he blushed furiously as he pocketed his phone again.

Passchendaele Daniel offered his photograph of Elizabeth to the table and the three young men on the other side gladly took it. She was effortlessly beautiful and the three youngest at the table stared at her for a bit longer than was honestly necessary. Passchendaele Daniel bit back a proud grin at their obvious interest.

“I don’t have a photograph of Loretta.” HH Daniel mumbled. “If I did, that would be considered extremely creepy on my part.”

The photograph was passed back to Passchendaele Daniel who pocketed it again and HH Daniel reached to grab another serving from the platters in the middle of the table. A small corner of paper poking out under the dish caught his attention and he wiped his hand on his jeans before pulling it out from under the plate. His eyes went wide at the photograph of Loretta that stared back at him from his hand.

“What’s that?” Amoureux Daniel asked, leaning over his shoulder to take a look.

Surprised, HH Daniel couldn’t find his words for a moment, “I-It’s Loretta.”

The Lotus Inn works in almost magical ways through this ripple in the time space continuum. HH Daniel pulled the picture closer, his heart only aching slightly at simply the sight of her.

“She is hot.” QTVTP Daniel broke the momentary silence.

The four other Daniel’s glared at his bluntness and he put his hands up in defence as he sat back in his chair.

“You can’t have her so don’t even try.” HH Daniel scolded softly before turning back to the photograph. 

“I don’t want her. I have my own girlfriend.”

HH Daniel glared warningly at him as he passed the photograph across the table to ABM Daniel and Passchendaele Daniel to take a look at too.

Amoureux Daniel shifted in his chair and reached into his pocket, sure enough to pull out his own picture of Louisa and their brand-new baby son. He stayed perfectly quiet for a moment as he stared at the image himself, disbelieving.

“Oh wow.” he breathed. “It looks so real.”

HH Daniel looked over his shoulder and smiled at the sweet photograph of the young mother holding her baby, “That’s adorable.”

Amoureux Daniel smiled over at him, “That’s my Louisa. And our little prince.”

“Let’s see!” ABM Daniel excitedly held his hand out to take a look at the photograph.

QTVTP Daniel and Passchendaele Daniel glanced over his shoulder with mirrored smiles.

“Damn,” QTVTP Daniel said as he sat down again, “Glad to know we have taste.”

Their pictures were passed around and stories were shared – QTVTP Daniel offering up his phone to show off pictures of his girlfriend and he shared his excited plans to propose to her. 

The five young men seemed to find their comfort with each other. Laughter soon filled their table between words of advice and guidance and comfort and soon the food was gone and the drinks were finished and they were all resting back in their chairs through their conversation.

“Is your hair naturally that colour?” Amoureux Daniel asked QTVTP Daniel.

QTVTP Daniel habitually ran his hand through it, fluffing it up a little at the sides, “No, it’s dyed. I kinda like it like this though so I might keep it.”

“It looks cool. Maybe I should go blonde too. Loretta seems to like blondes better anyway.” HH Daniel said.

“No!” The other three at the table said quickly.

HH Daniel looked between all of them in confusion, “Why not?”

“Florence cried her eyes out when I went blonde.” ABM Daniel said. “I swear she was ready to divorce me. It’s not worth it.”

“You look just fine the way you are.” Passchendaele Daniel agreed. “Don’t change just because her boyfriend looks a certain way.”

“Yeah. You’ll regret that.” ABM Daniel nodded.

“I dunno. I don’t regret it.” QTVTP Daniel said coolly.

“You’re not helping.” ABM Daniel snapped lightly, making the rest of the table laugh.

A momentary silence fell over the group, all of them staring into space with content smiles and full stomachs, most topics of conversation well used. The bartender came over to clear the empty plates and they all thanked him once more. ABM Daniel took out his phone to check the time again.

“Well, it’s been over an hour. Maybe we should say our goodbyes. I have little ones to pick up.”

“Yeah.” HH Daniel sighed, setting his napkin back on the tabletop. “I have to pack for college.”

“I have a meeting...” QTVTP checked his watch, “5 minutes ago. Shit. Jonah’s gonna kill me.”

He got up quickly from the table and put his sunglasses back on before taking one last sip of his beer. They all stood up after him and started to gather their things to go.

“Can we take a selfie before we leave?” ABM Daniel offered.

“A what?” HH Daniel laughed.

“A selfie.” Amoureux Daniel breathed. “That’s a ridiculous word.”

“A picture of yourself.” QTVTP Daniel explained.

“Yeah! Come over here.” ABM Daniel took out his phone again and opened up the camera.

“You can take photographs on your telephone? Incredible…” Passcehndaele Daniel breathed as the group gathered behind ABM Daniel and they all leaned in close.

The picture was taken, framing five exact smiles, five exact pairs of light blue eyes, and yet five slightly different hair styles and fashion choices. All their own individual but yet all one in the same.

They shared handshakes that turned into friendly embraces with pats on the back, well wishes, and final goodbyes as they headed their own ways home to once again be seperated by the division of space and time between alternate universes.

ABM Daniel lingered back in the restaurant for a moment, grazing his finger over the table he stood beside with a calm smile. He approached the bartender and ordered a plate of desserts to go – he didn’t get much since Amoureux Daniel seemed to hog them all for himself – and he wanted to bring home his girls a treat. He paid for the cakes and thanked the bar tender before heading out of the restaurant and into the bright sunlit street. His car was parked farther down and he waited in the drivers seat for Florence.

She came quickly out of the Lotus Inn as well, the heavy wind blowing urging her to hold her jacket closed as she rushed down the sidewalk, her dark blonde hair billowing around her head messily and she helped herself into the passenger seat of their car. With the door closed and the wind kept out, she sighed deeply with a content smile and smoothed her messy hair down.

“Hey, baby.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

They both leaned in for a quick kiss.

“How was lunch?” she asked.

ABM Daniel thought for a moment as he took the car out of park and pulled out onto the street, “It was strange at first but really nice. How was yours?”

“Super fun.” Florence giggled.

“Great! Oh! We took a selfie. I wanted to show you how similar we all looked.” Daniel pulled his phone from his pocket and blindly passed it over to her as he drove through the streets of their city.

Florence took it and typed in his passcode with an excited smile. She opened up his pictures and tapped the most recent one, her smile falling, “Dani, this is only a picture of you.”

“I know!” Daniel laughed. “We looked like quintuplets or something!”

“No…I mean you are the only person in this picture.”

Daniel stopped the car at a red light and glanced over at his phone in her hand. His smile fell as well as he stared at the selfie he had taken before they all parted ways, only his own face captured in the frame, his four new friends missing as if they never existed in the first place.

[harringtonstudios]

vegas run (IV).

plot: it’s the annual las vegas run. let’s see what kinda trouble you get into this year!

A/N: CLIMAX!!!! i hope yall like pls let me know <3 ty ellie for the gif hunting ily

masterlist! (previous parts can be found there soz got too lazy to link)

Shuffling with the others was entertaining. You didn’t know any of these people but everyone seemed to follow one another, pointing out the fifth Elvis they’d seen or the dude standing in the middle of the street buzzing his hair off. 

The crowd had thinned out a little, people disappearing into the casinos and bars lining the streets. Colson was walking in front of you, fingers still stuck with yours as you trailed behind just a little bit, trying to match pace with the rest of the group around you. 

The weed seemed to be wearing off now, fading into the background as your view sharpened just a bit. You didn’t really know what time it was, or how long you’d been wandering the streets with Colson right by your side, but your phone was tucked into your back pocket and you hadn’t had the heart to check it yet. You knew by now the squad would have left the first casino, but these spontaneous moments were what the Vegas run was all about and you wanted them to last longer.  

Just then, Colson sidled up next to you. He let go of your hand before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You huffed at the loss of contact, wanting to feel his palm against yours again. Hesitating for a second, you raised the hand that was closest to where his arm was draped over you. He let out a little laugh and then his fingers met yours again. 

“Needy baby,” he mumbled, still smiling as you looked up at him. 

“Not a baby,” you uttered, scrunching up your nose but smiling at his words all the same.

“Mhm,” he hummed out, squeezing his fingers against yours to make a point. 

“I’m hungry,” he stated, and you realized that’s why he’d come back up next to you. 

“Yeah, time to break away?” you asked, turning your head to the side trying to spot some place to grab a bite. 

He didn’t even respond, just nudged his shoulder at the guys you’d been rocking with before creating a path out of the little group. You stumbled a little at the awkward positioning of your bodies, but you didn’t want to be the first one to break it up, so you quickly aligned yourself against him and followed his lead.

-

Ten minutes later, you guys had wandered into a shop called Bruxie. The lights were dimmed, soft glows barely lighting up the menu but Kells had spotted a powdered sugar covered waffle and immediately veered the two of you in. 

The spot was small, but metal stools lined the front, a countertop propped up against the full-length windows. It was amazing, you could sit and eat while watching the show that was Las Vegas at night. People were milling by, the ever-present lights highlighting the streets as the city bustled around you.

Grabbing two stool seats, you pawed at the menu trying to figure out what you were in the mood for. 

“Fuck Y/N, look at this,” Colson said, shoving a finger at the plastic menu, pointing at the waffle chicken deluxe. It was huge, covered in syrup and sugar from what you could see in the picture. The weed had left you both with the munchies and sticky syrup was exactly what you were craving right about now. 

The order came in a few minutes later, ringed up at the counter. Bringing it back to the table, Colson couldn’t help the smile taking over his face. He set the plate down, and then tugged a little at his hoodie like he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“It’s a waffle,” you chuckled, making fun of his reaction.

“It’s not just a waffle. It’s the waffle,” he scoffed as he pulled out his phone to take a picture of the drippy, sweet mess in front of you two.

You waited a second, and then grabbed your fork, tearing up the side to take a bite into the famed breakfast food. 

“HEY! Wait for me,” he shouted, and you groaned impatiently as he cut off another piece. 

“Count of 3,” he said, raising a finger towards you. 

“Nope,” you responded, and then shoved the waffle piece into your mouth. The flavors hit you immediately, and you looked at the plate in front of you impressed at the different tastes you were getting. 

The waffle was gone soon enough, and then Kells was hopping off the stool and striding up to the counter to order another one and a round of beers to keep you both happy as the food started flowing in.

---------

You could feel the drinks you downed earlier hit you all at once. You hadn’t gotten drunk in so long, busy with getting your store on its own feet. Sipping on warm beer in your empty apartment just never gave you the same feeling as you had now. It was like there was something warm wrapped completely around you, lighting you from the inside. You could feel the flush on your own cheeks, the way your head felt kinda full.

It took you a minute to realize that there actually was something wrapped around you, a chin coming to rest on top of your head, grounding you down. Two arms covering your front as you shifted a little, trying to figure out exactly where you both were. 

“Stop shifting,” Colson mumbled from above and you pouted at that, tilting your head up so he had to lift his chin off of you. 

Your eyes met his as he looked down at you, and you could tell he was just as gone as you. His eyes looked blurry as if he was gonna cry and moved your gaze downward focusing on the scar at the bottom of his chin. It was an old one, but it still raised against his skin, standing out so close to your vision. 

Pulling your arm from out of his hold, you lifted your finger trailing it against the puckered skin. You’d been tilted back too long, could feel the blood rush to your head in a way that made you feel dizzy. Closing your eyes, you pulled your head back, licking your lips as the blood settled back into your veins again. 

“Where are we?” you mumbled, not sure how’d you both ended up on the corner of the street, facing a bright pink wedding chapel. 

“I have no idea,” he murmured into your hair. 

The light turned from red to green as a car turned the corner, driving past where the two of you stood on the curb. There was a neon heart pulsing on the window of the chapel, a blue arrow running through it and you watched the light switch on and off as he rubbed his cheek against the top of your head. 

Two people stumbled out of the chapel, flowers in hand laughing as they walked off into the other direction. You watched the girl stop, throw her bouquet backwards before he picked her up in his arms. The flowers landed on the floor, petals breaking apart against the cracked cement. 

“Wanna get married?” came a whisper above you. 

Your breath hitched, the pink heart pulsed again. 

“Yeah,” you nodded slightly, feeling something pull oddly tight at your heart.

-

A minute later, you both were crossing the street. You could feel your heart thudding against your chest, feel the way Colson’s own heart was beating steadily behind your back. You stopped in front of the entrance, feeling the tips of his Converse against your heels as he abruptly paused right behind you. 

Picking up one of the roses from the trashed bouquet, you turned around, holding it out towards him. 

“For you,” you murmured, feeling the faint warmth of a blush rise up on your cheeks again. 

“Why thank you,” he exclaimed, exaggeration dripping as he bowed down before plucking the sole flower out of your hand. 

You smiled up at him before stepping aside, trying to hint at the fact that he should take the lead. You weren’t used to this at all, and even though you knew he’d never been married before, something told you this was more in his wheelhouse than yours. 

He raised an eyebrow up at you, and then took the first step into the already open door. 

Following behind, you were immediately struck with the absurdity of it all. There was a woman sitting at a counter, dressed in all pink with a feather pen in her hand. There were chairs lining the lobby, and you spotted the door towards the chapel part of the room. A wooden heart was carved right above it, and you tried to stifle your laughter as you spotted a treasure chest in the corner overflowing with different costumes. 

“We’re here to get married!” Colson proclaimed, walking towards the counter as you moved towards the golden chest. 

You laughed at the words, spotting an Elvis wig thrown in and a cow onesie right underneath. You could hear him discussing things with the lady at the desk, but you were so enamored with the eccentric outfits that you tuned him out. Shifting through the clothes, you laughed at the red cowboy hat, paired perfectly with the one ruby studded cowboy boot tossed in. 

You got caught up searching for the other one, moving through the chest at a record pace before realizing that someone was calling your name. 

“Y/N!” Colson shouted again, and you whipped your head up seeing him lean against the desk. He was grinning, arm up in the air waving you over and you suddenly flashed back to a couple hours ago at the casino, the way he’d pulled you in from across the room. 

Fuck, only a couple of hours ago you’d been wandering around with another guy, aching for some action and now you were going to get married? The sentiment suddenly hit you, and you let out a breath, sitting down on your knees.

 Married? To one of your closest friends? To the guy you’d swore you felt nothing about until a couple of weeks ago? 

Lost in thought you didn’t really notice when his smile dropped as he caught sight of you staring into space. He pushed himself off the desk, coming up to you before getting on his own knees right across from you. 

“You okay?” he asked, hand going over to where you were clutching the sole ruby boot with a tight grip. 

You blinked once before coming back to your senses, “Yeah, no? I’m good.” 

“We don’t have to do this,” he murmured, eyes meeting your own. He seemed so sober at that moment, words dripping out of his mouth with ease. Your gaze caught on his chin again, the scar sticking out. 

At that moment, it really hit you. You did want this, wanted everything that came with it even if you both didn’t exactly know what that was. The alcohol in your system craved this more than anything and you smiled up at him, dropping the boot back into the chest as you got up off the floor. 

“I want this if you want it,” you announced, dusting off your jeans. 

“I want it,” he declared right back at you, and you grinned before extending your hand to pull him off the ground. 

The lady at the desk clapped pulling you both out of the moment and you laughed a little as you walked over to her. 

“Great idea sweetie! He’s a looker that one,” she chipped as you got a hold of the papers that she had laid out. 

“Yeah Y/N I’m a looker,” Colson repeated, leaning back against the desk, smirking at you. 

“Shut up,” you mumbled, catching the raise of his eyebrow as the words came tumbling out of your mouth. 

And then all of a sudden, you were leaning in to where he was, softly kissing the bottom of his chin right on the scar.

“You missed,” was all he mumbled and you flipped him off as he laughed, signing your signature right next to his. 

“You’re all set lovebirds. Go pick something crazy to get pictured in and then you can walk in. Father Michael will be waiting for you,” she smiled, stapling the sheets together as you handed her the feather pen back. 

You wandered back to the treasure chest, this time feeling Colson’s gaze on you as you reached back down for the red boot. 

“I wanna find its twin,” you said, turning around to show it to him.

He was smiling at you, and you felt a sudden warmth build up in your chest at the way he was looking at you. Pulling the boot out of your hand, he held it up to his face, turning it around as he inspected it. 

“Nope,” was all you got before he tossed it back into the chest.

“Hey what the fuck,” you scowled slightly, turning back around to pick it up. 

He stopped you before you could, arm pulling at your wrist. You paused, moving back towards him, pulse speeding up at the way his grip felt against your skin. 

“If we’re gonna do this,” he started, and you couldn’t meet his eyes at the sound of his words and how close they sounded to a promise, “I want it to be us.” 

“Us?” you mumbled, teeth biting down on the edge of your lip. 

“Yeah, no gimmicks, no costumes. Just us,” he responded, and you looked up at that, seeing the smile hidden in his eyes. 

“Okay,” and a grin spread across your own face. 

“Okay.” he nodded and then you were both crossing the room to the chapel entrance. 

- 

taglist: @iamdorka​ @no-shxt-sherl​ @bakerkells​ @findingmyths​ @rosegoldrichie​ @mayaslifeinabox​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @hnbtx​​  @backoftheroomandnotbelonging​​ @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @whyisgmora​ @oopsiedoopsie23

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x16 - What happens in Vegas... (part 1 of part 1) Enjoy!

Cut to - The Salvatore mansion family room, present day. Damon is watching Bonnie sleep. She wakes up slowly…

BONNIE: Ian?

DAMON: Ian? Who the heck is Ian? And tell me where he is, so I can kick his ass!

BONNIE: (Smiles) Sorry, had the craziest dream… And your name was Ian, for some screwed up reason…

DAMON: Oh, okay… then Ian is cool in my book! (Smirks and gives her a kiss).

BONNIE: What time is it?

DAMON: Almost 3pm…

BONNIE: What! Oh my god! I had to be at the airport an hour ago to meet Elena! Shit! Shit!

DAMON: Uhm… Bon… don’t you remember?

BONNIE: Remember what?

DAMON: About Elena…

BONNIE: What about Elena?

DAMON: Her flight got canceled; she got another one straight to Vegas. You don’t remember?

BONNIE: I do, I do… Told you, strange dream… I’m still a bit drowsy.

DAMON: Well, she won’t be able to help you bring all that “bachelorette” stuff. But the bachelor boys are heading the same way; I’m sure we can fit some of it; just promise me there’s nothing illegal in those bags.

BONNIE: (Mischievous smile) I can’t promise you that…

Cut to – Two days later, somewhere in the middle of the Mojave desert. Damon, who looks like hell, is dialing on his cell. Behind him, a crashed police car with Alaric, Iker, and Kai inside; also looking like crap. They are wearing nothing but their underwear.

 DAMON: Care, it’s Damon… Listen ...The bachelor party got a little crazy and, well...we lost Stefan.

BONNIE: Uhm…think we might have a problem of our own…

DAMON: Bon?

BONNIE: It’s me, I think… Anyway; the bachelorette got a little crazy too, and, well… we lost Caroline.

Cut to – A couple of hours earlier. A Sky Villa at the Palms Casino Resort. 

Damon wakes up confused, he is lying on the bathroom floor, drool coming out of his mouth, brain drilling headache. His vision is blurry, but he manages to recognize a familiar face, lying inside an empty bathtub, completely passed out. The familiar face is Kai, dressed in what seems to be a ballerina tutu. 

He stares at him for a minute, wondering why he is there… not in the bathtub, but in Vegas; he hadn’t been invited. Oh well, he’ll figure it out later. For now, he needs to do an overall casualty assessment. He gets up slowly, holding on to whatever is at hand. He eventually gains the balance to find his way out of the bathroom, and into the living room. The place is a war zone, the hotel bill won’t be cheap! Amongst the debris of the previous night, he searches for other survivors… 

Soon enough he finds Alaric, also passed out, half of his body hanging over the piano, which, to Damon’s surprise, a monkey seems to be playing.

DAMON: What the…  (shushes the monkey away from the piano, shakes Alaric to wake him up, no response… He hears a sound coming from a mount of sofa cushions and clothes; someone is under there… it’s Iker, who slowly fights his way out).

IKER: (Looking messed up and disoriented) Hey, man… (looks around, grabs his head) What the hell happened last night?

DAMON: Beats me… I can barely remember my own name… 

(Alaric wakes up suddenly, holding his hands up in a cheer).

ALARIC: Jackpot, bitches!!!!!!!!!!! (He realizes he has no idea where he is, or making any sense). Hey, guys… where am I? What are we doing here?  

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Oh, boy… I have a feeling this is gonna be fun!

(Kai walks out of the bathroom, passes them by, but apparently doesn’t notice they are there, and goes into the master bedroom, throws himself on the bed. Just as he gets comfy, he realizes something is very wrong… 

There is an elephant in the room; literally. Jumps up, screams like a little girl, runs out of the room and shuts the door).

KAI: Holy shit! There’s an elephant in the room!

DAMON: I’d say you’re right, stalker boy. What the hell are you doing here?

KAI: … I have no idea, but I swear, there is an elephant in that room!

DAMON: Are you sure it isn’t Stefan? He can look pretty scary in the morning…

(Goes to check it out, vamps back about a second later) Nop, that ain’t Stefan… and there is definitely an elephant in the room... (takes a drink).

ALARIC: So, where is Stefan? And, why the hell is he (referring to Kai) here!

DAMON: Ric, I think we have more important things to focus on right now… Like, for example, there is a freakin elephant in the room! It’s a baby elephant, yes, but still, a freaking elephant! Those things are dangerous! Oh, and I’m pretty sure there’s also a loose monkey somewhere around here! What the hell did we do last night? Rob a zoo?!

IKER: The only thing I have a vague memory of, is a steakhouse, a casino… a strip joint?

KAI: That pretty much describes all of Las Vegas, so, not a lot to go on.

DAMON: Okay, okay, I’m sure we can figure this out.

ALARIC: Let’s just find Stefan and get the hell out of here, before they put us in jail.

DAMON: Fine. Shouldn’t take too long. Ric and I will check every corner of the villa. Iker, you and psycho boy check around the hotel… restaurant, pool area, casino, etc.

IKER: (To Kai) Think you can keep up, princess?

KAI: (He hadn’t noticed he was wearing a tutu until this moment; he looks at Damon) This was definitely your doing! (Takes the tutu off).

DAMON: (Sarcastic smirk) Probably… Okay, let’s move.

 (They search everywhere, Stefan is nowhere to be found. They teamback at the villa).

 ALARIC: Well, we’ve searched everywhere, he’s not here. (Sarcastic) This is great! The wedding is tomorrow, our plane leaves in a couple of hours, and we are missing the groom... 

We should call Caroline, maybe he ditched us and joined the girl’s party.

DAMON: And if he didn’t?

ALARIC: They can help us find him.

DAMON: Did you get brain damage last night?! 

No way we are calling Caroline! I’d like to live a long and happy life with my Bon-Bon, so, not an option!  Just chill, we’ll find him. He couldn’t have gone that far… it’s Stefan, he’s probably hunting bunnies. All we have to do is retrace our steps from last night, and we’ll find him.

ALARIC: The main issue being… none of us seem to remember anything about last night!

KAI: (Coming from another part of the room) Okay, I just called reception, they assure there is no Stefan Salvatore at any of the area hospitals, morgues, or police stations…

DAMON: No shit, Sherlock, he is a vampire! Of course he wouldn’t be in any of those places…

IKER: Wait… a police car… I remember we were in a police car!

DAMON: Ooh, that can’t be good…

KAI: Oh, oh, oh, no, no, no… (looks at his hand) This can’t be good either (shows them a very tacky ring).

DAMON: Come on, that’s just your daylight ring.

KAI: No, no… I don’t need a ring for that… which means this is … (takes the ring off, sees it’s engraved) most definitely a wedding ring!  

ALARIC: Who the hell would be crazy enough to marry you?!!

IKER: (Cracking up) Shit, this too funny…

DAMON: (Takes the ring from Kai, reads the inscription) “To my knight in shining armour, from your damsel in distress” - Cupid’s Wedding Chapel. Well, boys, I believe we have a lead… 

We need to go to this chapel, ask them if they remember us; and if Stefan was with us.

KAI: And who the hell I married!

DAMON: (Sarcastically) Oh, I’m sure she’s a lovely gal.

ALARIC: I’ll get us an uber…

Cut to – Cupid’s Wedding Chapel. 

As soon as they walk in, the receptionist recognizes them.

RECEPTIONIST: Oh, shit! You guys are back!? Please, just no stealing the “King’s” costume this time!

DAMON: You remember us?

RECEPTIONIST: Of course I remember you! You guys are crazy! Specially you, damsel (winks at Kai). Where are the other three?

ALARIC: What other three? We are only missing one…

RECEPTIONIST: Uhm, no you aren’t; there were seven of you. You four… the wolf man, the cop, and the handsome hero hair guy.

DAMON: So Stefan was here with us, that’s a start!

ALARIC: And, apparently, Matt and Tyler too… So, not only did we lose the groom, we managed to loose two members of the wedding party. (Sarcastic) Fantastic!

KAI: Listen, I really need you to tell me who I married last night...

RECEPTIONIST: Sure, you married Whitney Houston; you lucky bastard!

KAI: What!? I mean, I love me some Whitney, but, really? She married me?

RECEPTIONIST: (Looking confused, and a bit sorry for him) 

Well, an impersonator, obviously. The real Whitney has been dead for a while. Boy, your hang-over must really be screwing with you.

IKER: Don’t these places usually offer packages? Like photo albums and stuff…

RECEPTIONIST: We sure do.

IKER: Did we, or he (referring to Kai), buy any?

RECEPTIONIST: The whole nine yards. I thought that’s why you guys came back. (Takes out a box of wedding souvenirs and a photo album) Look… mugs, crystal balls, pins, key chains…

DAMON: Let’s go straight for the album… (They go through the photos. Some are “somewhat” normal...

Others, go along these lines…  Kai, dressed as a ballerina, and the bride dressed as a noble knight. Stefan, wearing an Elvis outfit, mastering every single one of his iconic poses. Iker and Damon playing catch with the bride’s bouquet. Alaric, sneaking about, in full Indiana Jones mission. Matt, riding an inflatable unicorn, role-playing to be the Lone Ranger. Tyler, on all fours, howling).

DAMON: (Terrified at the pics they just saw) Oh god… I don’t even want to know...

ALARIC: (Sharing the sentiment) Oh, fuck no... apparently, I was the one to walk Kai down the aisle… Those pictures really need to be destroyed….

RECEPTIONIST: I’m telling you… you guys are totally insane!

ALARIC: You don’t happen to know where we were heading when we left here, do you?

RECEPTIONIST: No. But you did mention something about settling a debt; getting Britney Spears back for something…

ALARIC: Britney Spears?

RECEPTIONIST: Yep; the hero hair guy kept going on and on, about her owing him big time; and that he was going to collect… And you (referring to Damon) kept saying “It’s Britney, bitch!” That’s all I got, hope it helps. (Alaric looks at Damon to see if he remembers anything from hearing that …)

DAMON: Sorry, man, I’m at a blank…

IKER: Wait… I think I’m getting a flashback… of you (referring to Damon), strip dancing to “Gimme More”?

DAMON: No… I’d never strip dance to that! Britney Spears? Nice try, but nop.

KAI: Oh, come on, everyone loves Britney!  

ALARIC: I think I remember that… God, please, take that image out of my head! Of all things, that’s what you chose for me to remember?! Have some mercy!  

DAMON: If I did… I probably rocked it (winks and smirks).

IKER: Okay, I’m definitely gonna need therapy after this trip.

ALARIC: Well, we got all the information we are going to get from this place; and I don’t think I want to find out more. So, what’s next?

DAMON: I say we pay Miss Spears a visit…

ALARIC: First, no one would ever let us be less than 300 feet from her. Second, that’s ridiculous; she is obviously not involved, aside from you stripping to her songs. What we need to find is that strip joint we apparently went to after, or before, this place.

IKER: (Who has stumbled upon a box of matches in his pocket) Maybe this can help… (shows them a very tacky match box, which reads: Mystic Divas.

Cut to – Mystic Divas strip joint. The place, given the hour, is obviously closed. Just as they are about to leave, a woman, wearing Whitney’s “Queen of the Night” outfit, spots them as they are about to leave.

 LADY: My princess! (Runs to hug Kai and kisses him) Why you bail on me last night?! Thought we were having fun!

KAI: Uhm… I’m guessing you are, my knight in shining armour?  

LADY: Sure am! Till death do us part… (Sees Kai’s terrified face and laughs) Don’t worry, it was only pretend, honey, nothing permanent. We were both really drunk and thought it would be fun.

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Aw…what a love story! (To the lady) Sweetheart, you think you can help us put some dots together?

LADY: I can, but there is no way I’m letting you on my stage again. And, don’t call me sweetheart.

ALARIC: So, we were here last night?

LADY: Physically, yes. But I’m not sure any other part came along. Y’all were completely wasted.

IKER: All, meaning us four; or were there more?

LADY: Shit! You really don’t remember anything?

DAMON: (Trying to avoid the whole Britney strip thing) Nop!

LADY: Well… you were all here; plus the other three dudes.

ALARIC: I’m assuming that was before “the wedding”?

LADY: Yes. This is where (looks at Kai) we fell in love. But we came back here after the reception. Well, only me, my hubby; you fine looking thang (referring to Iker), and you, the ultimate party pooper (referring to Alaric). Don’t know where the rest of you went. All I know, is that my princess here, pulled a runaway bride after he got a call, and you two (referring to Iker and Alaric), left along with him.

ALARIC: Do you know around what time that was?

LADY: I’d say three-ish? Anyway, I have to go (kisses Kai on the cheek) It was lovely being your wife for the night. Good luck boys! (Leaves).

IKER: Not bad, psycho boy, she’s hot!

KAI: (Proud smirk) Totally hot!

ALARIC: Kinda reminded me of…

DAMON: (Before Ric says the name, he knows he’s going to say, he changes the conversation) Kai, check your phone…

KAI: (Rubbing it in his face) What... she remind oyu of someone, Damon?

DAMON: Please, you wish! 

Now, check your freaking phone!

KAI: Fine, fine… (looks at his received calls; sure enough he has an inbound call, from an unknown number, at 3:13 am) Well… Yep; I received a call, clueless about the caller, but seems like we had a lot to talk about, call lasted 20 minutes…

DAMON: (Sarcastic) Gee, I wonder how we can find out who the mystery caller is?

KAI: We could try to hack into the local police system, they have a huge database. Except, we’ll need a computer, preferably a stolen one so it’s untraceable…

IKER: (Also sarcastic) Or, maybe just call the number?

KAI: Of course I was gonna do that first! I was just thinking ahead, in case we get no answer. Amateurs! 

(Calls the number…) What a surprise… no answer! Oh, wait… (someone answers: Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital, how can I help you? Hangs-up immediately).

DAMON: So, who was it?! Why did you hang up!!

KAI: Ooh, I’m getting a bad feeling…

ALARIC: Give me that (takes the phone from his hand, calls the number… Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital, how can I help you? Hangs-up immediately) Shit…

DAMON: So, who the hell was it?!

ALARIC: Not who, but what…

DAMON: Ric, I’m too hung-over to be playing guessing games.

ALARIC: Does anyone remember anything about a psychiatric hospital?

DAMON: Now, that’s definitely a place Stefan could be at…

KAI: Specially if he was found hunting bunnies…

DAMON: Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go one flew over the cuckoo’s nest…

ALARIC: I’ll get us another uber…

IKER: Wait… 

Uber! Of course! I can’t believe we didn’t think of that! Everyone, check your phones for any trips we took last night.

DAMON: Duh! Man, we are really out of it!  (They check their phones…) Well, I have one at 5:30, from the hotel to the Andiamo Italian Steakhouse, downtown. And another one at 7:40, from the steakhouse to the Bellagio… That’s it.

IKER: I have one, from the Bellagio to Mystic Divas at 1:06am.

KAI: As for me, one, at 3:33am, from Mystic Divas to the Rawson Neal Psychiatric Hospital…

ALARIC: I don’t have any from last night.

DAMON: Okay, so far, our best bet at finding Stefan is at that psych hospital. Let’s move.

 TVD 9x16 (part 2 of part 1) coming very soon! Hope you stop by, read, and enjoy! =)

P.S Had to split it into more parts otherwise it would be too long for one post per part. 

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 7: Forget Everything You Know]

Hi y’all! I just wanted to take a moment to thank you all so much for reading and for showing me and my fics some love. You better believe that I see EVERY. SINGLE. reblog, comment, tag, and message, and they mean the absolute world to me! I know that a lot of content creators are frustrated and taking breaks right now, but rest assured you will not be able to get rid of me if even a SINGLE person looks forward to something I write. I’ll finish this fic (eventually), and I’ll finish the next one too (it already has a name!), and I won’t disappear or leave the Queen/BoRhap fandom at any point in the foreseeable future. Lots of love to you all, stay safe, and I hope you enjoy! 💜 💜 💜

Chapter summary: Y/N brings home some friends; Brian attempts an intervention; John draws a line; Roger gets an answer.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

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“Smile, everyone!” Your dad peeks through the viewfinder of the Canon F-1 and beams. “One...two...three...say Queen!”

“Queen!” you all shout gleefully. The flash illuminates the dining room, and you blink away momentary blindness. The table materializes back into vision: lobsters, clams, haddock chowder, sourdough bread, fried oysters, pierogis with Vermont cheddar cheese, cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes...and, of course, Boston cream pie for dessert.

“Ah, perfection,” your dad sighs contently. “Please continue, Mr. Mercury.”

“Mr. Mercury!” Brian whines, incredulous. “Like he’s got a bloody PhD or something!”

Freddie cracks a lobster claw. He hasn’t taken his sunglasses or wrist-full of clanging bangles off all afternoon. Your parents are profoundly confused by him, but welcoming nonetheless. “I’m a professor of lusciousness. Pay attention and you could learn something.”

Brian rolls his eyes and dunks a hunk of sourdough bread into his chowder.

“So,” Freddie tells your mother between bites of lobster dripping with drawn butter. “Our darling damsel in distress was in the clutches of that horrid, dodgy wanker when none other than our very own Roger Meddows Taylor—”

“You weren’t even there!” Brian protests. “I wasn’t even there! This is, what, a third-hand account?!”

“Eat your soup, peasant. Thank you. Anyway, our beloved Roger comes raging out of nowhere, red-faced, nostrils flaring, a terrifying sight to behold, grabs this guy by his hair and slams his despicable face directly into a marble column. Broken nose, cracked orbital socket, blood everywhere! It was magnificent. I’ve never been more proud.”

“Good for you!” your mother cheers, patting the back of Roger’s hand encouragingly. He smiles at her, warmly, radiantly, like the wildfire he’s always reminded you of. And you marvel at how every human on this earth is made of the same fundamental components—blood and muscles and vessels and nerves, hearts and enigmatic brain matter and ribs, vulnerable parts, armored parts, all webbed together like nature’s own organic circuit board—and yet the marks they leave on you can feel so different: burns, scars, bruises, shadows, imprints that are deep enough to brush bone and never fade.

“Mom, the guy could have died!”

“Did he?” she asks innocently.

“Nope,” Roger says.

“Well then, Mr. Taylor here is a hero in my book.”

“Mr. Taylor!” Brian groans.

“I was petrified he would turn out to be the son of an executive or producer or something and the band would be ruined,” you say. “Fortunately he was just someone’s annoying frat brother from college who already had a reputation for being a sleazebag. So, we were in luck.”

“You were in luck that Mr. Taylor was there,” your mother points out, gazing at him dreamily. This delightful English boy is going to be my son-in-law and give me gorgeous, doe-eyed grandchildren, that look says.

“Yes, a literal superhero,” John says ruefully, sipping a Manhattan. Your dad has a passionate love for mixing cocktails, especially for guests who also happen to be rock stars.

“Mom. Don’t make his ego any bigger, please. I’m begging you.”

Roger snarls around a mouthful of Boston cream pie, sending your mom into a fit of giggles.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, dear.” She smooths your hair. “And that you have people to keep you safe all the way over there across the ocean, and that you’re happy.”

“Yes, your work environment is much improved, isn’t it?” Brian says. “That supervisor you had at the hospital was an absolute bear!”

Your dad strokes his short grey beard. “Well...” he admits. “That may have been my fault.”

Brian’s brow crinkles. “Really?”

Your mom turns to you. “You didn’t tell them?!”

“Oh, is there a scandalous backstory?” Freddie inquires, elated. “Do tell, darling!”  

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away—just kidding, it was here in Boston—my archnemesis Patricia and my dad dated.”

Roger drops his fork, appalled. “No!”

Freddie’s nose wrinkles in revulsion. “Why?!”

Your dad rocks back in his chair and laughs loudly, heartily. “She wasn’t always so cantankerous, if you can believe it. She was a sweet girl, wonderful even. But then I met my future wife, and...” He smirks guiltily. “What can I say? The heart wants what it wants!”

You nod along. “And I got the illustrious honor of being an outlet for the frustration stemming from Patricia’s lifelong unrequited love.”

“You saucy minx!” Freddie playfully lashes your mom’s shoulder with a cloth napkin. “Homewrecker!”

She chuckles, not the least bit offended. “People get together under all sorts of strange circumstances, and you know what? You can’t wreck a home if the home wasn’t already half-wrecked before you got there, that’s what I think.”

Roger raises his Patriot’s Punch. “I’ll drink to that.”

Brian clutches his New England Express, bewildered. “Are we...toasting to infidelity?”

“Oh, does that horrify you?” Rog asks sarcastically. Brian grimaces, but dutifully raises his glass.

“We’re toasting to love,” your dad clarifies. “However it comes, as long as it’s true.”

John holds his Manhattan aloft. “To love.”

Freddie clinks his Flying Elvis against the other beverages, including your parents’ wine glasses and your Cranberry Crush. “Cheers!” Then Fred glances at the clock and swiftly polishes off his slice of Boston cream pie.

“Can’t you all stay a little longer?” your mom pleads, collecting plates and gazing longingly at Roger. “This has been so much fun...”

“They have soundcheck at seven, Mom. We have to leave for the stadium soon.”

“Well, before you jet off to your next adventure, can I treat anyone to a long distance call?” your dad asks.

Brian perks up. “Really?!” You know there’s a ring in the future for Chrissie; not an expensive or extravagant ring (not that Chris would want that anyway), but a ring nonetheless. You know because Brian has taken you shopping to help him choose one.

“Of course! You can use the phone in my office. It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. I’m sure there are some lovely ladies back in jolly old England who would be over the moon to hear from you.”

“That would be very much appreciated!” Brian says. “And thank you so much, this has been such a treat, you have no idea how long it’s been since we had a proper homemade meal.”

“I had to rehabilitate the reputation of us Yankees, didn’t I? Now come on, Mr. May, I’ll show you to the office...”

“Mr. May...I like the sound of that!”

“Ten minutes, Bri!” Freddie calls, following them down the hallway. “Then it’s my turn...!”

You begin gathering up the empty glasses, but Roger promptly snatches them away. “No way, Boston babe. You go relax. I’ll help your mom.”

“I think she’s in love with you.”

He grins. “Do you have a secret stepdaddy fetish I could exploit?”

“Oh my god. Roger.”

He snickers and sweeps off into the kitchen. It’s only then that you realize John has disappeared. You check the kitchen, the living room, the hallway, the study, and finally the front porch; John is standing outside in the cold, smoking and watching the setting sun. The sky is threaded with cerulean, rust orange, lavender, indigo. You pull on your coat and go out to join him.

“We’ll make it to Florence one of these days,” you promise John, resting your arms on the wooden, white-painted porch railing. Your mother hung baskets of fresh flowers for the band’s visit, which swing lazily in the breeze. “Crank out a few more hits and we’ll get the record company to add it to the tour itinerary.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice.”

“Are you going to call Veronica?”

He shrugs, frowns, exhales a lungful of smoke into frigid New England air. “I don’t know if I should.”

“You don’t think she’d like that?” you ask, confounded.

“I think she might like it too much.”

“Ohhhhh.” You read his soft greyish eyes, which are faraway and somber, sad even. “I’m sorry, John. You know she’s wild about you.”

“I know it.” He takes a drag off his cigarette. “She’s the first person who ever was, actually. The first person who ever noticed me. Came up to me out of the blue at a disco and asked me to dance, me! So I said yes, like you do when you’re the guy nobody notices. And then I said yes again, and again, and again, until one day I realized...oh, this girl thinks we’re getting married. When the hell did that happen?”

“I noticed you,” you contest.  

John chuckles and nods. “You did,” he agrees. “Right away. Tried to win me over when I was too nervous to finish a sentence around you. But that was long after I’d met Veronica.”

“Well, you can’t break up with her tonight. On Valentine’s Day?! That would be traumatic.”

“Agreed.”

“We’ll have a few days in London between the American and Asian legs of the tour. You can think it over and decide what to do then. I’m happy to arrange the getaway taxi if that’s something that interests you.”

“Yeah.” Again, he peers out into the Western horizon, into rising stars.

“John?”

Now he looks to you. He’s a little too thoughtful, too low. There’s something you’re not seeing.

“...Is there somebody else?”

He doesn’t speak; he just stares at you with those velvety azure-grey eyes, drums his fingers against the railing, lets the ash from his cigarette crumble into the snow-dusted Blue Pacific Junipers.

Roger barrels through the front door and out onto the porch. “There you are, Deaks! I thought we were going to have to find a new bassist. Enlist Nurse Nightingale’s mum or something.”

John smirks and crushes the rest of his cigarette in your father’s ashtray. “I suspect you’d do just fine without me.”

“Oh no. No way. Not happening.”

“That’s kind of you,” John says, unconvinced.

“Here, I’ll prove it.” Rog holds out his calloused hand. “If you ever leave, I leave too. Come on, Deaks, shake on it. It’s official. It’s a pact. There’s no Queen without John Deacon.”

Reluctantly, trying not to show how pleased he is, John shakes. “Alright.”

Roger grins triumphantly. “Signed, sealed, delivered. You’re ours for life, baby.”

“Deaky, do you want the phone?!” Freddie yells from inside the house.

John sighs and exchanges a knowing glance with you. “I guess I should say hi.”

“Okay, but quickly!” Rog presses. “We gotta go!”

“So bossy...” John ducks inside; and Roger, though he’s not wearing anything over his pale pink button-up shirt—sufficiently sophisticated to impress your parents—comes to the porch railing to join you.

“You’re not staying out here, are you?” You eye his thin shirt worriedly, the goosebumps rising over his collarbones, his bare forearms where he rolled up his sleeves to help your mom wash the dishes.

He tosses you a mischievous wink. “I’ve got no one to call.”

Roger looks up at the hanging baskets of flowers, plucks out a cerise carnation, and offers it to you. You mean to say something witty, something sardonic, something that will make him laugh; but all your words vanish into cold February air. You take the carnation, smiling helplessly.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Roger whispers.

You just let me know if you ever change your mind, okay?

Okay.

He turns to go back inside the house.

I won’t fall in love with him. I won’t fall in love with him. I won’t fall in love with him.

Then Roger pauses in the doorway. “You coming, Boston babe? I can’t have you catching pneumonia or something. I won’t know how to fix you.”

Oh, you realize, with horror and yet relief, all those grueling lies stripped away. It’s too late.

~~~~~~~~~~

You knock on the frame of the dressing room door. “Hi Bri!”

He glances over from where he sits in front of the mirror, rimming his eyes with inky liner. Soundcheck went swimmingly, and now Queen has thirty minutes until they need to be onstage. You can hear the disembodied reverberation of voices from the waiting crowd through the walls. “Hello, love. Come in.”

“Freddie said you needed to see me. Did you rip a sleeve or something? I brought my kit—”

“No, it’s not that.” He pats the chair beside him. The boys practically always get ready together before a show, but you suspect profoundly introverted Brian is experiencing one of his post-socialization crashes after dinner with your parents. Something about him is tired, very tired, almost drained to empty. “Join me.”

“Sure,” you say cautiously. You shove your medical kit onto the countertop and then reach to feel his forehead. “Are you feeling alright...?”

“I’m fine, love. I just have a favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

Brian sighs deeply, sets down the eyeliner, swivels his chair towards you. “I need you to promise me that you’re not going to start seeing Roger.”

You titter, deflecting, brushing Brian’s hair away from his troubled, angular face. “Well, as the official Queen touring nurse, I see him quite a lot.”

Brian catches your wrist. “I’m being serious.”

Now your brow knits into tight agitated lines. “I’m curious as to why you think that’s something you have a say in.”

“Bloody hell, I’m not trying to offend you—”

“Job well done.”

“Dear, please, listen to me—”

“Eight months,” you hiss through your teeth as you tear away from him. “For eight months I’ve listened and avoided and resisted and ignored and it’s not going away.”

“Oh, fuck,” Brian breathes in despair. “You love him.”

There are tears biting in the periphery of your vision; you don’t want them to be there, but they are. Your voice is hoarse and trembling. “Bri, please don’t.”

Brian shakes his head and motions with his hands frenetically, desperately, trying to make you understand. “Look, sometimes...sometimes the people we love, the people who own us, the people who fucking set us on fire...they’re not the people we end up with. And that’s not always a bad thing. It’s necessary. It’s self-preservation. Because sometimes the people who set us on fire would burn us alive.”

You gape at him, furious, stunned. “That’s just fantastic, Brian. You’re a true romantic. Jesus christ, does Chrissie know about this? Is that why you’re with her, because she’s, what...safe?!”

“No, that’s not fair, Chrissie’s great, she’s steady and supportive and she’ll make a wonderful mother one day, and my parents adore her—”

“Those aren’t reasons to marry someone, Brian!”

“They are!” He leaps to his feet. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you! You have to think about these things, you have to be rational, you have to protect yourself—”

“Why the fuck do you care?” you flare bitterly.

“Because you saved my life.”

“Stop it, I didn’t.”

“You did, I truly believe that. And I want you to stay with the band. And I want you to be happy. But, dear, please, I’m begging you...this is not the way to do it.”

“I’m not going to go out to some pub and drag home a random guy who’s suitably passionless and predictable enough to be Brian-May-approved.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you to do—”

“Because you’re such an expert on relationships!” you shout, exasperated. “Planning to propose to Chris while you’re still secretly pining over some fling from New Orleans, fucking groupies and then having the nerve to mope around guilt-ridden the next morning as if anyone but you was responsible for that decision, and do I say anything about it?! Do I ever say a single fucking word about it to you, or Fred, or Roger, or your future wife, or anybody?! No, because it’s not my life!”

The dressing room door flies open and John storms inside. “What’s going on?!”

You cross your arms and stare at the floor. Brian’s wide green eyes flick to John, to you, back to John. If it was Freddie, Brian would tell him in a second, would try to enlist him in the effort, and it would probably work; but John is a different story. John won’t side with Brian over you, everybody knows that. And John has a talent for sharpening words into blades. “Um. Nothing.”  

“I could hear you in the hallway,” John says flatly. “Obviously it wasn’t nothing.”

Brian points to you. “Have you tried to talk her out of this? Maybe you should, maybe she’d listen.”

“It’s not my choice to make, just like it isn’t yours. Worry about your own body count. It seems to be growing exponentially these days.”

Brian scoffs. “Because you’d be so thrilled if she ended up with him, right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” you demand.

Brian and John glare at each other from across the room. John raises his eyebrows, daring Bri to answer. Brian gnaws his lower lip, but doesn’t elaborate. The air is heavy, tense, electrified.  

“Don’t upset her again,” John says darkly.

Brian shows the white palms of his hands in surrender. “Fine.”

John waves for you to follow him. “Come on.” And he slams the door behind you as you both escape into the hallway.

“I’m sorry.” You chase away stray tears with the back of your hands. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to get anyone worked up right before the show...”

“Don’t worry about it. I treasure any excuse to harass Brian.”

You study him, seeking answers, seeking more than you know how to put into words. “Do you think I’m being stupid? If you do, you can tell me.”

“No,” John responds carefully. “I think you’re being hopeful. And I’d like to believe that stupidity and hopefulness are two very different things.”

You smile. “I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s very inaccurate.” He fluffs his hair with his fingertips. “Do you want to touch it before we go on stage?”

You feign demureness. “Hmm...”

“Oh come on. You know you want to. It’s extra voluminous right now, Roger shared some of his magical mousse or whatever. Something way too expensive. You should thoroughly berate him for it.”

You laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.” You comb your hands through his brunette hair, and John’s right; it’s extraordinarily full and soft, and smells like honeysuckles. “You always know how to get me smiling, don’t you?”

“You do insist that I have game. Though I remain skeptical.”

“Good luck tonight. Not that you need it.”

John’s rough thumb lifts your chin, then whisks away a tear you missed. “You’ll be watching, right?”

“I always am.” And that’s the truth; you haven’t missed a Queen show since you met them.

He beams, those gentle grey eyes incandescent. “Then we’ll have an ocean of luck.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Exactly twenty-four hours later, Queen is in New York City.

The thunderous bassline of the opening act shudders through the concrete walls. You’re staring yourself down in the bathroom mirror under harsh florescent lights, your palms gripping the cold rim of a white sink, your eyes shimmering with black and gold shadow, your lip gloss slick and crimson. There’s not a single thing left to do. You’re running out of time.

You breathe in, breathe out, snatch your purse off the floor, breeze out into the hallway.

You can hear the boys’ laughter even before you open the dressing room door. Inside, Brian is tuning his Red Special with his mantis-like legs propped up on the countertop, John is attempting to teach Freddie how to make popcorn in a microwave without setting anything on fire, Roger is scrutinizing his hair in the mirror and frowning as he rearranges it with a comb.  

“Hello, darling!” Freddie warbles. “Can I interest you in some delicious and expertly-prepared popcorn?” He opens the microwave, and smoke pours out. “Oh, you bitch!”

“I’ll pass, Freddie.” You glide to where Roger is sitting, knot your fingers through his blond hair, and tug his head back so you can kiss him. He tastes like mint gum and the ghost of smoke and reckless intemperance; he tastes like everything you’ve ever wanted. There are gasps, and surely dropped jaws as well; but you don’t have eyes for them. “Okay,” you tell Roger.

He stares up at you with huge, starry eyes, a dazed grin slowly lighting up his face. “You changed your mind.”

“Come find me after the show.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You move to wipe your blood-red gloss from his lips, but Roger stops you, knits his hand through yours, stands to meet you.

“Leave it,” he murmurs. “I want them to know.”  

“Want them to know...?”

His lips touch yours again, smiling and scorching and ravenous. “That I’m yours.”

[mens-fashion-thing]

Cracking The Men's Vintage Styling Code

It used to happen in the past will definitely be back. This is how the world of style works. Vintage Fashion means styling wear from the past. Which your grandpa used to wear them, it's also a wonderful reality of fashion that is cyclic. However, don't panic. What is too much and what is not enough can be hard to decide. Unique Vintage should seem just as time reveals and that is why men have put up many of the most ancient men's dress and accessories.

It is must to looked dapper

Get some Peaky Blinders blend ! Vintage coats with strong or designed colors come in both single and double-breast coats. That color combinations that are always in style never black, are swampy, gray, and brown. Just for formal reasons black suits were used.

A perfect vintage suit of three or four is an important component of any person’s retro collection, especially when working in a classical office setting or at night.

If you're a man who likes to dress in retro clothes each day in the 1940s or simply for retro activities, having a decent 1940s fancy suit is a major curiosity.

Trying to match and pairing vests with suits or sold individually added to the ensembles a professional touch, making it appropriate for men to turn up with no suit for such occasions.

Have a suspender to be simple 

In several working environments, suspenders are very popular wears by rural gentlemen, and perhaps your grandparent wears them.

Suspender or shoulder straps will make your wardrobe look like you have stepped out of a movie from the 40s without adding flair. Suspenders are very flexible and easily suit this bill. The suspenders instead hold the pants up when they attach to your tail.

It had leather buttons loops to tie them to the pants and they also came in tan, black or brown. Cowhide loop braces are found vital to an authentic look.

You wear that braces even if they hang loosely across your legs. This keeps your dress shirt in your trousers wrapped.

The Hat is recognized as a turban

The day was dominated by Derbies, Homburg, and Straw Boaters, as were leather caps and wheel hats for sports and recreation. Ruling elite with a matching baseball cap may be seen.

A good man would not be seen out without a hat in the 19th century, and shopkeepers gave a selection of styles to match every occasion. Though high blackhead hats were still appropriate at night, they did not enjoy the day wear. 

If you are a hat fan, a hat wearer for the first time, or a professional hat pro, the items are available

For both men and women in the 1940s, Hats were a very common accessory. Fedoras were the most widely used style for men, a form of wide-boarded Trilby. Types included big shoulder hats, pillbox hats, Breton hats, closed hats, half hats, and more. 

Knitted Tank Tops and Waist Coast 

Do you need to remain warm but keep the custom Retro dapper look? Large classic mod hosiery line includes a variety of quality, traditional Vintages mod jumpers, the timeless knitted retro tank tops of the quilted sweaters. V-neck tank tops were a common choice in the Fair Isle patterns.

In addition to the normal business preferred Spearpoint hems, when preparing for any leisure or work in the house these were often worn on neckless shirts. It just has a full vintage collection when the colder times of the year are layered and reached.

High Waisted trousers or Bell bottom

In the 1960s and 1970s, the Bell-Bottoms, leg pants wider than the knee were very common. Initial practical style was the elegant or blush legs on the pants of the bellbottom used in urban from the 17th century.

High-level and mid-level pants help protect your tummies and cover them. These pants are the flattering type of your tummy if you are interested in them. Although it can seem strange, a higher increase in trousers may do amazing things for a pear figure. 

This is because a high rise offers better coverage of the back as the legs are lengthened and the hip is balanced. In fact, the larger the back, the further you will go up and look great in trousers.

Presley, Polka dot, or Check Design

Elvis Presley was the style icon of every man. So you can never ever beat his signature design. Presley printed shirts were common during the beginning of the decade, but cuff button became the real trademark for 40's shirts.

The Polka dot shirt remained a male fashion staple in the retro vintage, whether it would be for unisex funky wear design. The design were in various types and made a fashion item certainly.

Such check design with pointy collars look extremely smart and the cross tiles form frames a casual knot so that they are suitable for a polished occasion. Men also wore it with neck bars to pull in the neck and lift their paisley tie. Check or cross line design always work best in any kind of shirt. But except cuban collar shirt , that have to be floral printed anyhow if you want to go Hawaii!

Shoes for men 

Everything is going on in the process of making an outstanding pair of oxford shoes.

The fact that they are all between your feet and the cold and rough ground. They must not only look good, but also sound gentle. The reason you love pointed Shoes is that some of today's top brands are in fact their own. 

Indeed, the general standards for shoemaking and leather were in many cases much higher than those on the foot market today. A real hand made shoe in the 1920s through the 1940s was much more popular than it was today.

A modern vintage style uses products with past either are not part of a specific style of design. A modern retro design style relies on the fusion of the old and new. Most men love vintage since classics are never out of style. Men stare at things of styles and see echos of the past that are not so elusive.

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

From Green River to Nirvana to Bush: A Brief History of Grunge

The origin of the term grunge, which means either repugnant or dirty came from most likely a Sub Pop music catalog to describe an EP released by the band Green River in 1987. “Gritty vocals, roaring Marshall amps, ultra-loose GRUNGE that destroyed the morals of a generation". The term grunge had been used since the 1960’s to describe an array of bands, but this was the first time the term had been applied to any music out of Seattle. One of the reasons the music coming out of Seattle sounded so dirty or sludgy came for a very practical reason. Most of these groups did not have very much money, which meant when creating new songs in the studio these artists could not spend the money they did not have on cleaning up the sound. The scene of Seattle first came from two colleges, Evergreen State and the University of Washington, which brought about the hugely popular radio station KAOS, where Nirvana would actually play in 1987. Many major bands that came out of Seattle like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden hated the term. One primary reason was the fact that it stereotyped these bands into one generic genre as even these three specific groups were vastly different from one another. Nirvana was pop punk, Pearl Jam embodied classic rock, and Soundgarden turned out to be much more metal. Ben Shepherd of Soundgarden would say he hated the term and did not want to be associated with it. Many musicians from Seattle all the way down the line never referred to grunge in any manner whatsoever. Rolling Stone would say that there did not exist any clear definition of what defined grunge as it covered a bunch of bands that were very different from each other.

The start of early grunge in Seattle began when Black Flag came to town in 1984. They were the poster child for hardcore punk at the time. Black Flag’s album My War was huge in terms of Seattle’s sound as it took elements of metal and traditional rock, then slowed it down. Steve Turner of Mudhoney would later comment. “A lot of other people around the country hated the fact that Black Flag slowed down ... but up here it was really great ... we were like 'Yay!' They were weird and fucked-up sounding." One of the people that went to these Black Flag shows was Buzz Osbourne, lead singer of local group the Melvins. After seeing Black Flag, he began writing riffs for his own band that were much slower and heavier. This became the very beginning of Northwest grunge, which producer Jack Endino called slowed down punk rock. Seattle musician Leighton Breezer would describe it as essentially playing punk rock backwards. Another key ingredient to grunge’s development came in the infusion of metal elements with the greatest influence being Black Sabbath. One approach for these early bands was to take a metal riff, then play it backwards with a ton of feedback, while screaming lyrics on top of it. Another other source of the grunge sound came with indie rock, which should not be discounted because it brought that pop melody into the equation. A huge influence on this emerged with Sonic Youth. Other artists included Pixies and Dinosaur Jr. Kurt Cobain identified with the former in particular as he noted in a Rolling Stone interview, "I connected with that band so heavily that I should have been in that band—or at least a Pixies cover band. We used their sense of dynamics, being soft and quiet and then loud and hard." These artists did seem to embrace the ugly aspect of the music as they loved to pen dark lyrics mirroring society at the time. This stood in stark contrast to the mainstream sex, drugs and rock and roll of the hair metal coming out of Los Angeles. The Seattle bands would even take things from so called cheesy rock bands like Kiss. Buzz Osbourne would say they would steal from the ridiculous rock bands too seeing what they could get away with all the time. Rock writer Kyle Anderson would say this about grunge when reviewing Sixteen Stone from Bush. “The twelve songs on Sixteen Stone sound exactly be like what grunge is supposed to sound like, while the whole point of grunge was that it didn't really sound like anything, including itself. Just consider how many different bands and styles of music have been shoved under the "grunge" header in this discography alone, and you realize that grunge is probably the most ill-defined genre of music in history."

Certain artists prior to bands like the Melvins and Green River heavily influenced that Seattle sound including Here Are The Sonics, released in 1965 by The Sonics.[153] Neil Young's albums Rust Never Sleeps (1979) and Ragged Glory (1990). Neil Young symbolized everything that grunge and Seattle seemed to represent including plaid flannels and distorted guitar. He would even have Pearl Jam act as his backing band for the 1995 album Mirror Ball. These groups were soon labeled proto-grunge. Other artists included Elvis Costello, the Stooges, Led Zeppelin, and Creedence Clearwater Revival for their respective 1970’s and 1980’s albums. Another effect on the development of the sound came in the city of Seattle itself as it flew below the radar when compared with other cities. Sub Pop’s Jonathan Poneman would say in an interview. “Seattle was a perfect example of a secondary city with an active music scene that was completely ignored by an American media fixated on Los Angeles and New York [City]." Everything about the style that would become associated with Seattle came out of necessity, not really any choice. Trucker hats, pawnshop clothes, cheap guitar all sprung from the fact that Seattle in fact was a very poor town. For his part, Kurt Cobain when Nevermind went number one was actually living in his car. Local post-punk bands also had an effect on what eventually became the grunge bands of the late eighties such as The Fartz, The U-Men, 10 Minute Warning, The Accüsed, and the Fastbacks. Yet, one must note there existed a differential between these groups and those that came to define early grunge.

The very first grunge record has been regularly referred to as Come on Down from Green River. The band would later split up with half the group later forming Pearl Jam and the other half creating Mudhoney. Another release that hugely helped along the development of the Seattle sound was in the Deep Six compilation featuring tracks from six bands: Green River, Soundgarden, Melvins, Malfunkshun, Skin Yard, and The U-Men. Jack Endino would make this observation about the release at the time. “People just said, 'Well, what kind of music is this? This isn't metal, it's not punk, What is it?' ... People went 'Eureka! These bands all have something in common.'" Later around the same time, Sub Pop released a similar compilation, along with a new EP from Green River, Dry As a Bone. The effect of the Sub Pop label had everything to do with the Seattle sound too because of their heavy commitment to cleverly selling the brand to the rest of the world as one of the greatest regional music scenes in the history of the world. The early concerts sponsored by the label were not attended by very many people, but Sub Pop’s photographer made it look like the concert of the year. Their marketing was top notch when it came to letting the rest of the world know there was something incredible happening in Seattle. Sub Pop was not alone in spearheading the indie movement in the Pacific Northwest, but other labels released new music including C/Z Records, Estrus Records, EMpTy Records and PopLlama Records. In the late 1980’s, Jonathan Poneman of Sub Pop asked Everett True to write about the local Seattle music scene for Melody Maker. This article gave Seattle some of the first mainstream national exposure besides word of mouth. According to Charles R. Cross, the bands that embodied the grunge sound more than anyone else were not just Nirvana or Pearl Jam, but groups like Tad, Mudhoney, Blood Circus. Sub Pop actually looked to Mudhoney to be the breakout band from their label allowing Nirvana to leave without much protest.

The negative issue with such exposure became that new groups began to move to Seattle hoping to be discovered while claiming to be an authentic local group, when in reality they were not. Steve Turner would say, “It was really bad. Pretend bands were popping up here, things weren't coming from where we were coming from." The first group to sign to a major label was Soundgarden, followed by Alice In Chains and Screaming Trees soon after. Unfortunately, this really signaled the end of a truly independent local music scene, but the major labels coming to Washington state was probably inevitable.

The major label signings were expected but when Nirvana released Nevermind, the repercussions were in no way contemplated in any way whatsoever. The success of the record changed everything because it made what would become alternative music able to be sold as merchandise and in a cultural sense. Michael Azerrad said it represented "a sea-change in rock music" in which the entire country said we are done with hair metal. We want something a bit more realistic when it comes to our music. The newfound popularity of grunge made it possible for other niche audiences to consider the potential financially and culturally for their music to be successful. A more current example may be seen in dubstep and EDM. Pearl Jam would be the first beneficiaries of Nirvana’s lightning bolt, no pun intended. Jeff Ament and Stone Goddard, formerly of Green River and Mother Lovebone, had joined forces with a California surfer by the name of Eddie Vedder. People tend to forget that Pearl Jam’s seminal album Ten was actually released a month before Nevermind. By 1992, the entire country had embraced everything Seattle including Pearl Jam, Temple of the Dog, Soundgarden, and Alice In Chains. Journalists were starting to call the city the “New Liverpool.” Cameron Crowe even made a film centered around Seattle entitled Singles, which featured a fictitious band with Eddie Vedder as their drummer. The fashion fads of grunge did not go unnoticed to corporate America as knit caps and flannels would increase in price very quickly. Entertainment Weekly made this observation in 1993. “There hasn't been this kind of exploitation of a subculture since the media discovered hippies in the '60s". One could now see grunge being sold in the form of all kinds of products including an official grunge air freshener.

There do exist some characteristics of the grunge sound itself that people did agree upon, but much like the term itself there are open debates as well. As noted previously, the electric guitar had represented a dirty sound, hence the name grunge. There existed a heavy emphasis on distortion through the use of stompbox pedals with very large amplifiers connected to them. The other major characteristic that defined grunge besides distortion was loudness. Some critics have dismissed the artistry within grudge as merely noise, not anything else. Another effect utilized by grunge was the guitarists use of the Wah Wah pedal as evidenced by Pearl Jam, the Screaming Trees, Soundgarden, and Alice in Chains. The controversial and debatable aspect of the guitar is the question of whether the popularity of the music helped to kill the guitar solo. Most of grunge’s guitarists despised the shredding solos made famous in the 1980’s by such musicians as Eddie Van Halen. Jerry Cantrell of Alice In Chains would say that guitar solos should serve as a complement to the song, not its own entity. Will Byers of the Guardian wrote an article that argued grunge’s guitarists like Kurt Cobain helped to effectively kill the guitar solo in popular music. Unlike classic artists such as Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain and others from Seattle had very little interest in mastering the instrument. The Soundgarden guitarist would even say that he got bored doing solos, so he just filled it with fuzz and distortion anyway. The argument does fall apart a little bit when you look at the entire breadth of grunge at the time because Pearl Jam’s Mike McCready and the Smashing Pumpkins’ Billy Corgan have been consistently referred to as some of the most influential guitarists in the entire decade. The production was also similar in approach as it heavily emphasized low cost, which always meant a low fi sound. For the band Mudhoney, they had to tell the record label to decrease the budget for one of their albums because they did not need to spend that much. The two important producers were Jack Endino and Steve Albini. They both took a very hands off approach to producing with very little to do with remastered effects and mixing. They both believed that the job of the producer was to simply record the music, but not impede in any way creatively for the artist. For example, In Utero was recorded in the same room with the entire band, while most mainstream producers would have recorded it separately then combined them on a multi track recorder. That approach would often give off a very live feel to a grunge release from the recording studio. Many bands simply wanted to replicate the sound energy from their live shows. A grunge concert was defined by bands who jumped, thrashed, and screamed on stage, while most of the audience would mosh or slam dance. The artists would never use any visual aids, props, or special effects to enhance the experience, but instead you were simply seeing essentially a local band. Dave Rimmer would write about the philosophy behind any true grunge show. It seemed “for Cobain, and lots of kids like him, rock & roll ... threw down a dare: Can you be pure enough, day after day, year after year, to prove your authenticity, to live up to the music ... And if you can't, can you live with being a poseur, a phony, a sellout?"

One of the negative aspects associated with grunge came in the question of how prevalent overall did heroin play in the lives of the artists. Not only did Kurt Cobain suffer from heroin addiction, but other artists did as well from that era including Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots, Evan Dando of the Lemonheads, Jimmy Chamberlain of Smashing Pumpkins, Courtney Love of Hole, and Mark Lanegan of Screaming Trees. The comparison was made to the hippies of the 1960’s, who had embraced marijuana. The grunge musicians of the 1990’s seemed to look to heroin while in the city of Seattle. The downer effects of the drug represented what the lyrics told you about how these artists were feeling, self-hatred, nihilism. By taking heroin, someone could hide themselves from the world avoiding any sense of reality. The drug would take many casualties along the way including Andrew Wood of Mother Lovebone, Cobain, the keyboardist for the Smashing Pumpkins, Layne Staley of Alice in Chains, and later the bassist for the band Hole. One group that almost beat Nirvana to the punch of making it on a national basis was Mother Lovebone. Their lead singer Andrew Wood tragically died of a heroin overdose right before their debut album Green Apple was set to be released. They represented the number one band throughout the local Seattle music scene at the time. After his death, the remaining members of Mother Love Bone, Chris Cornell of Soundgarden, and Eddie Vedder joined up to create the tribute band for the late singer, Temple of the Dog. One of the first times fans heard Eddie Vedder on record was not Pearl Jam’s Ten, but actually Temple of the Dog. Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard did eventually join up with Vedder to form Pearl Jam. Courtney Love would a later comment that she thought heroin was easier to get in Seattle, than it was in Los Angeles or San Francisco. Yet, Daniel House of C/Z Records would argue that the idea of Seattle being a mecca for heroin was simply not true. He said the prevalence of the drug was no worse than any other American city in the country, while magazines like Rolling Stone contended that marijuana and MDMA seemed to be more likely the drug of choice for these artists.

Another important characteristic of grunge was is the active role that women played as musicians, as well as promoters of the movement. These groups included acts such as L7, Lunachicks, Dickless, 7 Year Bitch, The Gits, Courtney Love's band Hole (and Love's other 1990s groups), and Babes in Toyland. VH1 writer Dan Baker would comment that L7 were an “all-female grunge band [that] emanated from the fertile L.A. underground scene and [which] had strong ties with ... Black Flag and could match any male band in attitude and volume." The lead singer of the all girl band Bikini Kill Katherine Hanna would help to start the feminist punk underground movement called Riotgrrrl in the Pacific Northwest out of Olympia, Washington. This social and political movement began to embrace some of the same qualities found within grunge music. Singer Hanna was also the person that coined the phrase Smells Like Teen Spirit as Cobain had dated her drummer Toby Vail for a time. Coincidentally, she would later go onto marry Adam Horowitz of the Beastie Boys.

By late 1992, there began a strong backlash against anything referred to as grunge. Both Damon Albarn and Billy Corgan of Blur and Smashing Pumpkins respectively would say at their live shows, “Fuck grunge.” Kurt Cobain would say in an interview that being famous was the last thing he ever wanted to be. Along with a return to their punk roots, Nirvana’s album In Utero subtly was intentionally “abrasive” as a form of protest against the entire grunge trend. Despite their efforts, the album still went number one in its first week of release. Everything grunge related saw incredible success including groups like Candlebox, Soundgarden, and Alice In Chains, as they all released records that saw platinum achievement very quickly. As LA looked for the next Motley Crue in the 1980’s, record labels now began to look for the next Nirvana. Some of these second wave groups included Stone Temple Pilots, Veruca Salt, and Toadies. Unfortunately, Stone Temple Pilots were called out in the press for jumping on the bandwagon that was the Seattle sound. Their biggest flaw came in being from Los Angeles, not Seattle. Another group that suffered from this backlash was represented with Bush, who released their second album in 1994, Razorblade Suitcase. Chuck Klosterman would write, “Bush was a good band who just happened to signal the beginning of the end; ultimately, they would become the grunge Warrant.” The exact death of grunge has been debated as to a precise date, but one of the biggest factors came when Pearl Jam and Soundgarden began to fade from view for a time. Another huge issue came with the death of Hole’s bassist from a heroin overdose. This just brought up memories from Kurt Cobain’s tragic death as his widow was lead singer of the group. Jason Heller of the av club would write the the final nail in grunge’s coffin actually came in the release of In Utero in 1993. He argued that once his angst became commercial, then it was time to leave the scene. Nirvana had made the scene, and they obviously ended it. Billy Corgan would say after the death of Cobain in an interview, “The party’s over.”

[thecoleopterawithana]

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On the influence of Elvis Presley. The Beatles Anthology, Episode 1.

PAUL: I remember being in school when I was a kid, and somebody had a picture in one of the musical papers of Elvis. It was an advert for Heartbreak Hotel. And I just loved it, and I just thought he’s just so good lookin’. He just looked... perfect. 

JOHN: When I was sixteen, Elvis was what was happening. A guy with long greasy hair, wiggling his ass and singing Hound Dog and That’s Alright Mama; those early song records, which I think are his great period. 

PAUL: That’s it. That is the guru we have been waiting for. The Messiah has arrived.

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Nothing really affected me until Elvis.

— John Lennon, in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (1968).

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I nearly did very well at grammar school but I started to get interested in art instead of academic subjects. Then I started to see pictures of Elvis, and that started to pull me away from the academic path. 'You should see these great photos ...' Then you'd hear the records - 'But wait a minute, this is very good!' — and then the tingles started going up and down your spine, 'Oh, this is something altogether different.' And so the academic things were forgotten.

— Paul McCartney, in Barry Miles’ Many Years From Now (1997).

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This fella I knew called Don Beatty showed me the name Elvis Presley in the New Musical Express and said he was great. It was 'Heartbreak Hotel'. I thought it sounded a bit phoney: 'Heart-break Hotel'.

The music papers were saying that Presley was fantastic, and at first I expected someone like Perry Como or Sinatra. 'Heartbreak Hotel' seemed a corny title and his name seemed strange in those days. But then, when I heard it, it was the end for me. I first heard it on Radio Luxembourg. He turned out to be fantastic. I remember rushing home with the record and saying, 'He sounds like Frankie Laine andJohnnie Ray and Tennessee Ernie Ford!'

— John Lennon, in The Beatles Anthology (2000).

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That was the biggest kick. Every time I felt low I just put on an Elvis and I’d feel great, beautiful. I’d no idea how records were made and it was just magic. “All Shook Up”! Oh, it was beautiful!

— Paul McCartney, in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (1968).

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Film clips of Presley’s American TV appearances now also began to filter through, revealing him to be almost ludicrously good-looking, albeit in a baleful, smoldering style more usually associated with female glamour icons. Here, indeed, was history’s one and only male pinup for straight males. In common with his other British converts, John obsessively read and reread every newspaper story about Presley, cut out and saved every magazine picture of him, pored over every detail of his hair, clothes, and sublimely sullen face for what it might reveal of his private character and lifestyle. At Mendips he chattered so endlessly about his new hero that an exasperated Mimi finally brought down the guillotine. “It was nothing but Elvis Presley, Elvis Presley, Elvis Presley,” she recalled. “In the end I said ‘Elvis Presley’s all very well, John, but I don’t want him for breakfast, dinner and tea.’”

— In Philip Norman’s John Lennon: The Life (2008).

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[John] kept looking at Elvis’s picture on the cover and saying, ‘Isn’t he beautiful?’

— Maureen Cleave, in Philip Norman’s John Lennon: The Life (2008).

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If black rock-’n’-rollers, like Presley himself, teetered on the edge of comedy, Richard’s exultant gibberish (“Tutti-frutti O-rooty…Awopbopaloobopawopbamboom!”) was a deep-South descendant of Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky.” “The most exciting thing…was when he screamed just before the solo,” John later recalled. “It used to make your hair stand on end. When I heard it, it was so great, I couldn’t speak. You know how it is when you are torn. Elvis was bigger than religion in my life…I didn’t want to leave Elvis. We all looked at each other, but I didn’t want to say anything against Elvis, even in my mind.”

— In Philip Norman’s John Lennon: The Life (2008).

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I'm an Elvis fan because it was Elvis who really got me out of Liverpool. Once I heard it and got into it, that was life, there was no other thing. I thought of nothing else but rock'n'roll; apart from sex and food and money - but that's all the same thing, really.

— John Lennon, in The Beatles Anthology (2000).

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In our imaginations back then, John was Buddy and I was Little Richard or Elvis. You’re always someone when you start.

— Paul McCartney, in The Beatles Anthology (2000).

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Ever since I heard Little Richard's version, I started imitating him. It was just straight imitation, really, which has gradually become my version of it as much as Richard's. I started doing it in one of the classrooms at school, it was just one of the imitations I could do well. I could do Fats Domino, I could do Elvis, I could do a few people. (Smiles.) I still can! "I'm walking, yes indeed, I'm . . ." (Fats Domino impersonation) ''Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen," (Elvis Presley impersonation) That's Elvis.

— Paul McCartney, in Paul Gambaccini’s Paul McCartney: In His Own Words (1983).

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I was very impressed by Paul playing “Twenty Flight Rock”. He could obviously play the guitar. I half thought to myself – he’s as good as me. I’d been kingpin up to then. Now, I thought, if I take him on, what will happen? It went through my head that I’d have to keep him in line, if I let him join. But he was good, so he was worth having. He also looked like Elvis. I dug him.

— John Lennon, in Hunter Davies’ The Beatles: The Authorised Biography (1968).

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JOHN (March 1966): And we’ve got people who look like Elvis Presley too, in our camp, as well. So that he’s no trouble to us, you see.

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John writing ‘I love Elvis’ on a portrait of Paul.

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JOHN (August 1980): I’m a chameleon. I’m influenced by whatever’s going on, you know. It’s the same as, if Elvis can do it, I can do it. If The Everly Brothers can do it, me and Paul can do it. If Goffin and King can do it, Paul and I can do it. If Buddy Holly can do it, I can do it. So whatever it is, I can do it.

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JOHN (October 1980): I come from the macho school of pretense, you know. I was never really a street kid or a tough guy. I used to dress like a Teddy boy and identify with Marlon Brando and Elvis Presley, but I was never really in any real street fights or real down-home gangs or nothing. I was a suburban kid, imitating the rockers.