#johnnyvic

[elanxd]

“𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙚”

[hiighborg]

It’s going 🫣

[barnespls]

What if you lived inside my brain and we were in love?

[bensonsballerz]

sorry i had a dream johnny silverhand muttered "oh, v" and pulled them close to him and kissed their forehead

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

FUNNY YOU SHOULD ASK, a silverVdyne fic ( ch 2/4, 3.3k words )

summary: It’s been months since V brought Johnny back from beyond the Blackwall into his own new, cloned body. Physically, Johnny’s recovered. He goes out and does the odd gig with V. Everything’s going relatively fine for a former dead man. It’s just, now that he’s in his own body, Kerry doesn’t want to see him anymore. tags: mildly antagonistic Johnny and V, emotional constipation of the nth degree, the rattler, canon-typical violence, silverdyne, johnny/v, silverVdyne

(READ MORE HERE!) (COMMENTS & RBs MUCH APPRECIATED)

[cranberrytaboo]

4, 8, 12, 15, 17, 21, 24, 33, 25 for whatever ships come to mind for each!

Katya voice: THAT WAS A LONG ONE

all under the cut!

4 - Where it hurts WangXian "Wei Ying... Why did you let yourself be branded?" If Lan Wangji had expected Wei Wuxian to take his question seriously, he would be seriously disappointed. Wei Wuxian smiled, still dazed and drunk from the agony of his burning flesh. "And let poor MianMian be marked forever? Such pretty skin as hers should always be protected. It was not such a great sacrifice in the defense of true beauty."

But the only true beauty here is you, Lan Zhan wanted to say. He forced his tongue into stillness, so as not to let the errant thought run out of his mouth. Instead, he continued his ministrations, tending to the angry raw skin on Wei Wuxian's chest, letting his eyes sharpen with hate as he beheld the Wen crest tainting his Wei Ying's perfect body. As Wei Wuxian drifted in and out of consciousness, Lan Wangji bowed his head, pressing his lips tenderly to the wound.

The smell of burning flesh branded itself likewise into his mind.

8 - In secrecy HarryKim

Kim rested his elbows against the balcony at the Whirling-in-Rags and looked out towards the bay. There, the sun was slowly climbing down from the sky, painting the ice and snow soft pinks and creamy oranges. He lifted one hand to rub the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"It is... difficult, to try and balance your love life with secrecy. I'm sure you remember just how *avoidant* your friend, the Smoker, was, even in his own apartment. It's called the Homo-sexual Underground for a reason. You have to keep it quiet, you can't *show* it. I don't know... Do you think you're ready for a life like that?" He finally turned to face Harry fully.

Harry, who had only just recently remembered what homo-sexuality *was*, stood looking nonplussed. "So, if I wanted to hold you, or kiss you, I couldn't do it in front of everyone?"

"That's what I'm saying, Harry. In public, you have to act as if nothing at all is going on. There are *tells*, yes, signals, but it all has to be discreet." Kim wondered briefly if Harry was even capable of discretion.

"That seems like an awfully painful way to live."

"It is." Kim turned his head away again, not wanting to show his partner that much vulnerability. Thus, he was surprised when Harry approached, guiding his chin with one hand to press a kiss to his mouth. The sun itself slipped beneath the horizon at that moment, as if to give them privacy.

"But painful sounds worth it, if it's you."

12 - In grief ChengXian

The reeds in all directions whispered in the wind and crackled under the weight of Jiang Cheng's body, rustling as his shoulders racked with great, heavy sobs. As quietly as he could muster, so as not to disturb the tension, Wei Wuxian knelt beside his sworn brother, eyes reddening.

"Mother...! Father!" Jiang Cheng's teeth gnashed bitterly, lips pulled into a wrathful snarl for a brief moment before he continued to wail, unable to even hold on to anger in his grief.

Wei Wuxian lowered beside Jiang Cheng and turned to face him, hands gripping at the arm nearest him as tears finally spilled past his lashes. Everyone in Yunmeng Jiang is gone. You, and Yanli, and Jiang Cheng, are all that is left. It was not a vacuousness that Wei Wuxian was unfamiliar with, but one he had prayed night after night that he would never feel again. And now, Jiang Cheng was feeling it too.

He leaned on his elbows to lift up his own weight, drawing close to Jiang Cheng and kissing away the tears, not caring when the other flinched.

Jiang Cheng seemed at a loss for a moment before gripping at Wei Wuxian's back and pulling him close, desperately, like Wei Wuxian would turn into smoke and dissipate if he didn't.

15 - Passionately JohnnyV

Before V met Johnny, he didn't think such an intense form of self-love was possible. But now, with an entirely separate psyche hanging out in his head, V was finding creative ways to show Johnny just how much he meant to him, even as they cohabited his body.

He knew Johnny could interact with him physically, at least in theory- the punch Johnny had thrown when they first spoke had sent him flying- but it was awkward to try and show affection to someone who nobody else could see.

Thus, he asked Johnny to work with him, to try new things. Johnny could take over control of V's body- so surely, he could take control of just a part of it, right? His legs, or a hand, for example. They tested this theory-- then tested it again, and again, with satisfying results each time.

And every time, V would lean in to feverishly kiss the palm of his own hand, showing appreciation for the specter that lingered with him.

17 - To distract MariAli

"I know what you're here for, and the answer is no." Alice folded her arms and frowned, her foot tapping impatiently.

Marisa flashed her a winning smile. "What do you mean? How could you possibly know why I'm here, when I haven't said anything?"

"You don't have to say anything. Every year, I make plum wine when the season turns, and every year, you and Reimu come and steal it to drink back at the Hakurei Shrine." Alice's Shanghai and Hourai dolls stood before the jars of honey-colored liqueur, guarding them with their tiny lances.

Marisa folded her arms and grumbled, making a show of frustration while cutting her eyes to Reimu, her partner in crime. The witch's eyes sparkled with an idea, and Reimu slowly nodded her head in recognition.

Recklessly, Marisa swept Alice into her arms, dipping the magician low to the ground. "Now!" She crowed, before pulling Alice into a deep kiss. Alice's limbs tensed, then slacked, her head spinning.

Flustered and high on a giddy sort of energy, Alice's mind muddled until she was finally released. As she collected herself, she looked to the window, where Marisa and Reimu were beating a hasty escape, arms laden with jars of plum wine. The Shanghai doll moved to give chase, but Alice simply lifted a hand.

"Ugh... Let them go, this time. If Marisa is willing to go that far, she must really need it." Alice couldn't help but entertain the idea of making more plum wine, this time to be traded instead.

21 - On a place of insecurity CyGate

Cyclonus had noticed, in even the short time he had known Tailgate, that he had a great number of insecurities. Surely, Cyclonus thought, anyone would recognize this in him, but he seemed to be the only one who really paid attention to how Tailgate clung so desperately to any sort of validation, any sense of belonging or being a part of something greater.

And one of the places where Tailgate's insecurity most manifested was in his Function. On his forearm were carved carefully the words "Waste Disposal," and it apparently caused Tailgate no end of resentment. On a quiet night, Cyclonus resolved to confront the little bot about it.

"It's so degrading," Tailgate finally admitted, his optics gleaming as he averted his gaze. "Everyone else has such grand purposes, but me? I'm just a janitor!" He held his head in his hands. "Every time I look at my arm, I feel so humiliated that I just wanna tear it off." He sniffed. "I would, if I weren't such a coward."

"Wait, listen to reason." Cyclonus tried to force himself to speak gently, knowing just how jarring his voice could be. "First of all, there's nothing wrong with cleaning waste. It is a necessary task like any other, and we wouldn't be able to live in a place full of garbage." He paused, realizing that might not have been what Tailgate wanted to hear, even if he needed it. "And two, your Function is not indicative of your worth. I have seen you, Tailgate, and your intense spirit, and you are worth far more than most any bot on this ship."

"You really think so?" Tailgate finally looked back up at Cyclonus.

"I know it." Cyclonus carefully took Tailgate's hand, lifting his arm and brushing his mouth across the lettering. "And I will keep telling you so until you believe it."

24 - In danger Sufferer/Disciple

Each day in hiding, the Sufferer grew more distraught. Even as many times as they relocated, however many of their pursuers they killed and however often they covered their tracks, he knew it was only a matter of time before they were caught. He watched as his beloved mother, the Dolarosa, retreated to a place of solitude in the cavern they inhabited, lifting her hands and praying under her breath. To his side, the Disciple sharpened her claws, dragging them against the rocky floor and watching them file down to shape with marked intensity.

"Why is it that you continue to follow me?" He looked to the Disciple with a mix of sorrow and resignation. "If I asked you to run, to let them hunt me while you escaped to live your life safely, would you?"

"Never." She replied plainly. "I have chosen this path, knowing it would be hard, because of my endless devotion to you. Why do you think I would flee now, just because we're nearing the end?"

The Sufferer lowered his head, teeth grit. So, she was aware, just as he was, that they did not have long. "I only wish that... that my actions here had caused any change."

"They did." The Disciple moved close to his side, nuzzling her cheek against his. "You may not have changed the highblood's minds, but you have moved the hearts of those who struggle like us. It won't be immediate, but you have invited a wave of change."

"I would have liked to be around to see it." The Sufferer laughed, bitterly, before pressing a kiss to the Disciple's cheek. "Thank you. I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me one day for bringing you into this."

"I already have." And yet, she could not help but wish that they could remain curled together in the vague warmth of that cavern until the end of days.

25 - As a Yes HecaJun

Junko couldn't remember half of the catalysts of her pure rage. She couldn't remember the faces of her husband and son, nor the face of Chang'e, who took them from her. She couldn't even remember her name from before she became a vengeful spirit. All she could remember was the concentrated rage that boiled in her throat.

But she was slowly making new memories, and most of them were of Hecatia. Hecatia, smiling and agreeing to fight at her side. Hecatia, laughing and playing with Clownpiece, dancing across the crater of a dried-up lunar lake. Hecatia, pushing back a lock of Junko's hair and asking her if she would be interested in trying to love again.

Junko didn't quite know how to answer. She wanted to say yes. Desperately. But her lips threatened to betray her, as they quivered behind years of near-forgotten heartbreak. So instead, she closed the distance between Hecatia's mouth and her own, agreeing in a silent sort of way.

33 - Forcefully HarryJean

"Jean, please look at me."

Rather than give in, Jean continued to stare daggers at the floor in front of him. It was all he could do to keep his attention focused on that one spot, eyes burning as another wave of despair welled in his chest and threatened to crush his lungs.

"Listen! I want to apologize, but I need you to stop acting like I'm not *here*, can't you even pretend to hear me?" Harry pushed a hand through his own hair, his initial repentance giving way to frustration he knew he didn't have the right to feel.

Jean's fists gripped at his knees where he sat, teeth digging into the inside of his lip until he could taste blood. "I get you feel like shit. I can sympathize. But that doesn't mean you get to treat the rest of us like shit till you feel better..!"

"This isn't about the others. I'll talk to them later, but right now, this is about me and you." Harry's fingers twitched. "You knew what you were getting into when you started getting closer to me, I warned you about the kind of man I was becoming."

"Is that supposed to be an apology?!" Jean's eyes snapped upward to stare at Harry hard. "Because that sounds like excuses."

"I'm *getting* to it!" Harry exhaled, too harshly, trying to force out the anger in his stomach. "I *am* sorry! I hate hurting you!"

Jean's eyes narrowed, and he looked back down at the floor. "Then stop hurting me."

The same frustration that Harry tried so hard to repress flared back up. If only it were so *easy.* Why was Jean convinced that he could just change in a day? And why was Jean not looking at him? The aloofness made him *sick*.

It was so easy to stride across the floor, to grab Jean by the jaw and to turn his head upward, to lock their lips.

He wasn't sure what he expected in return, but it wasn't a hand tangled into his hair, keeping him close, as Jean's mouth worked against his own. He could faintly taste blood on Jean's tongue. When he pulled his head back, Jean chased him, briefly, before leaning back again.

Harry let out a ragged breath. "Let me start from the top."

There was a moment's silence before Jean nodded. "Yeah. Please do."

[luvwich]

some questions for writers 🖋️

tagged by @orangekittyenergy 💖

Last book I read: good omens

Greatest literary inspirations:  nabokov, anais nin, john kennedy toole, octavia butler, tom robbins

Things in my current fandom I want to read but I don't want to write

cyberpunk: many ships i enjoy reading but don't have the writing itch for (goroV, johnnyV, songV, and i'm fascinated by alexV of which there's basically none but i think @merge-conflict is cooking sumn up 👀). post-temperance endings. nomad themes/settings/lore

bg3: durgetash, love those crazy kids. modern aus. uh anything with karlach, love her but i'm too miserable of a person to write her

Things in my current fandoms I want to write but I think nobody would be interested in them but me: o brother the list goes on lol. i'll just say: regina jones in shanghai spinoff from hypercritical au

You can recognise my writing by: off-kilter metaphors, navel gazing, banter, occasional direct address from narrator, maximalist formatting decisions, the same 3-4 smut tropes, and some hacky plot devices that i won't name lest they be perceived!!

My most controversial take (current fandom): i think i'm not plugged in enough to know what is actually controversial? i exist in a tumblr bubble where everyone is p chill about everything. anyway i think a lot of the actual writing in cyberpunk 2077 is not very good and as a narrative it fails way more than it succeeds!

Top three favourite tropes: hurt/comfort, PINING / emotional slow burn, and uhh idk the name for it but "fucking instead of talking about feelings"

What’s your current writing mood (10 – super motivated and churning out words like crazy, 0 – in a complete rut): maybe a 4? i'm still in that post-longfic season of malaise / refractory period. i need to be essentially possessed by a demon in order to write and i have a handful of little ideas simmering, waiting to turn into demons

Share a random frustration: the lakers are fucked in the playoffs and have managed to waste a season of anthony davis in his prime and one of lebron's last shots at another championship before he retires :\

tagging @baublekute @butchsquatch @ghostoffuturespast @merge-conflict @m-arahuyo @rowanisawriter @shimmer-like-agirl @streetkid-named-desire @theviridianbunny @wanderingaldecaldo with no pressure~

[thefreshprinceofjunes]

GODDDDD I TOLD MYSELF I WAS GONNA AVOID CP77 ENTRIES ON TVTROPES UNTIL I CAN PLAY PHANTOM LIBERTY (WHICH I CANT RLY DO UNTIL I GET A NEW COMPUTER) BUT I WENT AND REREAD SOME STUFF I WROTE ANYWAY AND OH BOY THE JOHNNYV FEELINGS ARE COMING BACK HARD

[ao3feed-silverv]

Underline the Black

https://ift.tt/kND0san BananaMilkLightning

by BananaMilkLightning

[Alt/Extra Ending, Pre-ship JohnnyV, Heavy references to Cyberpunk RED sourcebook]

You ever meet someone in the middle of nowhere, claiming they were the one running around Night City with a digital ghost of yourself? Almost sounds unbelievable but that’s the kinda world we live in. Now they have a data slug with my name on it. What the hell, guess it’s time to see what kinda person this guy is.

Words: 1857, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Johnny Silverhand, V (Cyberpunk 2077)

Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/V, Johnny Silverhand/Male V

Additional Tags: Alternate Ending - Cyberpunk 2077, Cyberpunk 2077 Spoilers, References to Cyberpunk 2020, References to Cyberpunk RED, Angst with a Happy Ending, No beta we drive on a motorcycle so Johnny can't glitch in next to us, Dialogue Heavy, Canon Divergence - Cyberpunk 2077, Extended Ending - Cyberpunk 2077, Canon- typical language, Pre-Slash, Male V (Cyberpunk 2077)

from AO3 works tagged 'Johnny Silverhand/V' https://ift.tt/kND0san via IFTTT

[johnnyinmysilverhand]

i understand johnnyv now. i still hate happy ending au

[hellbullets]

why did the johnnyv fandom decide silverv was their shipname was silverv silvy was RIGHT THERE

[elanxd]

“𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸

𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮

𝘐𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦”

[rwibbit]

Soooo many thursday songs are johnnyv to me

[romaniangothic]

wrow

[johngarrisonmusic]

Tour Diary Part 2

Arrive at JFK fully expecting a thorough, Trump era inspection and interrogation. However, I breeze through immigration and even have a nice conversation with Errol, my inspector. Although his authority muscle was flexed a little when questioned what music I was playing. “I play bass for James Blunt” I reply. “Who?” he says “That’s Showbiz” I quip……..!!!! An icy stare falls onto the once happy face of Errol. “I only like rap” are his final words as he stamps my passport and shouts “Next”

June 26

3 hours sleep. 4am lobby call. It’s Good Morning America live performance today of “OK”, Blunt’s new single here in the States. This track is quite personal for me as they are releasing a version of the track that I remixed along with James, as the main version to radio here in the States.  You need to have many strings to the bow to make a living in music these days. We’re all in a daze as we check our hire gear. God knows what time our crew arrived but all the gear is set up and ready to go.  Writing this a few days later and I can’t remember much about the performance but the label and management all seemed happy. I think. Or maybe I dreamt that…!!!

Jet lag and the general buzz of being in New York means an attempted snooze doesn’t happen. So Pembers (keys), Kristoff (drums) and I go for a power walk around Central Park. Gotta take the opportunities to stay in shape on the road. Something I’ve learned over the years. And failed at mostly..!!! Central Park is such a wonderful place.  It never fails to impress. A perfect way to pass a few hours off.  Days like this I feel very privileged to be doing what I do.

We then head off to another TV studio to perform on the Seth Myers Show. The studio is bloody freezing. It’s always the way with US TV shows. God knows why. There must be a reason. No idea what that is though. But it’s full jacket wearing performance for this show.  Which is odd as it’s 27oC outside.   A planned big night out in NYC is thwarted by jetlag that eventually kicks in too hard to ignore. Early night for us boring folk. How very un rock n roll…!!!

June 27

5am wake up. Not for any particular reason. Just jetlag. But that’s ok in NYC. I go out and wander the streets for 4 hours interspersed with coffee breaks. I still love this city. I lived here for 2 years back in 2006/7. It still feels like home. There’s an energy that emanates through the floor here. You can feel it coming out the walls of the buildings and skyscrapers. Everyone is here for a reason. There is a focus here that brings out the creative side in everyone who has one. I still love it and today I soak it up.

We are performing on Kelly and Ryan TV show today.  Another freezing studio. A trailer filled with farmyard animals is parked right outside our dressing room. The odd ‘Moooo” and Baaahaaaa” interrupting James’ vocal warm up are highly amusing breaks to the tedious boredom of TV world. Still no idea why they were there as they never appeared on the show…!! Slightly gutted that the very cute Kelly is on holiday.  It’s always a treat for the eyes playing on her show.

The boredom is abruptly shattered when we are told we have to lose 30 seconds of the track. We have already soundchecked so it’s a strategic edit arranged, board meeting style, around the table with no way of checking. Times like this we are thankful we are a fully live band with no backing track. We visually cue the changes live on air while being broadcast to millions. It’s times like this you know you are alive. It works. No time to stress or panic. We nail it. 3 mins dead. Everyone is happy. And we are done for the day. With nothing but a fight tomorrow, there is a palpable air of excitement amongst the band.

We head downtown to my favourite Italian restaurant in NYC called Emilio’s Ballato. It’s an old school mafia style Italian that I was introduced to when I lived here. Emilio is a terrifying, yet lovable character who sits at the door. Always does. Has done for decades. You only have to imagine a mafia style Italian restaurant owner with a gravelly voice who has to occasionally pop out to “take care of business” to know what he looks like. The mental picture you have now……. That’s Emilio.   The first time I came here, Sting was sat at the first table with Jay Z and Rhianna. It’s that kinda place. Emilio Jnr takes us to a table and explains the menu in his “baddabing” way.  It’s so cliché one or 2 of our party suspect it’s all a show. But I know for a fact it is not. The family back in Sicily send over the ingredients twice a week. All 3 of Emilio’s sons work at the place. It’s the real deal. And it’s awesome.

Tonight we are all on the guest list of the Imelda May gig at Webster Hall. Pembers, our keyboard player, is Imelda’s player too. He depped out the last 2 Imelda gigs as they clashed with the Blunt tour.  But coincidence means we are all here in NYC. The band are amazing and Imelda’s voice soars in this place. A great old school sweaty gig. We hang out with the band at an Irish bar around the corner after the show. God knows what time we finished but it was a long hazy walk back to the hotel. 

Goodbye NYC 

June 28

Flight to Kansas today. We arrive to find they have not sent the mini bus that we asked for, but a car….!!! For 12 of us. So we squeeze in 3 cars with gear and bags on our laps. It’s not all glamour…!! 

June 29 It’s the first day of our Ed Sheeran support today. Kansas City the first show. Still  jetlagged. I’m up and wide awake at 5am. I decide to check out Kansas. I set off on a head clearing 90 minute walk. In the space of a few minutes, the sky turns apocalyptic black and I’m suddenly in the middle of an almighty downpour and a violent thunder storm.  Flash floods come hurtling down the street. It’s actually pretty scary. But awesome too. Mother nature flexing her muscle and reminding us how insignificant we all are. Trash cans hurtling down the street. I run back to the hotel and watch the storm from the safety of my hotel window. 

A post shared by JohnnyVic (@satellites_johnnyvic) on Jun 29, 2017 at 5:38am PDT

The tour bus pulls up outside our hotel. Always a hugely exciting moment. There’s something about American tour buses. It’s probably subconsciously linked to the childhood dream of touring the States that most musicians had at some point. But also just how cool the busses look. This is home for the next 2 months.

We get to the venue.  The Sprint Arena. Sold Out 16,000. We meet Ed and all the crew. They are all super nice and friendly which is a welcome relief. It’s not always the case. The support act can occasionally be treated as a lesser entity. But not here. I think the fact James is such a big name in his own right helps. And the fact James and Ed are friends. Ed co-wrote some of the tracks on James’ new album and we even recorded one of them at Ed’s house earlier in the year.

We soundcheck the whole set. It feels a bit weird. Ed does his thing with just an acoustic guitar and a loop pedal. And rarely sound checks. So seeing all our full band gear on his stage feels a little intrusive on his minimal set. But again, Ed’s crew are all super helpful and asking if we need anything.  We iron out a few issues from the rehearsals and drop a song as we creep over our allocated 40 mins.

My Bass Set up.

James and I then play a quick 3 song set unamplified on acoustic guitars for 25 competition winners. We haven’t worked out the songs before on acoustics so it’s very much on the fly. But they all seem thrilled.

Ed pops in to wish us luck as we all do our vocal warm ups. We go on.

It’s a younger crowd than we are used to. It’s quite clear pretty early on that a few of them have no idea who James is. I guess it is 12 years since his debut album was no.1 here in the States. But rather sweetly, you can see a lot of the crowd are holding their phones with the lyrics on and are attempting to sing along. So cute.

James announces “most of you were probably conceived to this song” as he strikes up the opening chords to the world wide smash that is “You’re Beautiful”. You can see the penny drop in the audience. And in a scene reminiscent of an 80’s style cheesy high school movie, the crowd slowly all get to their feet and whoop, with fists in the air as they all realise ‘it’s that guy’. It’s an amazing moment. And from that point on it’s an amazing show. James gets all the 16,000 to their feet as he piano surfs during the outro of our set.

We all come off and have a post gig huddle. It’s a success. There’s always a slight element of doubt before a support gig. But those doubts are put to bed tonight. Ed pops in before his set and pours us all a mandatory Tequila.

Ed hits the stage to an ear splitting shrill of 16,000 very excited people. It’s an amazing spectacle. Just a man and a guitar with a loop pedal. He is a master of his craft. Everyone is on their feet. From the hardcore fans at the front to the reluctant parents on the very back row, Ed has them all in the palm of his hand. With just the occasional look down at his loop pedal multi track set up, the accompaniments he makes on the fly with his voice and beating the guitar body for percussion, it’s seamless. And mighty impressive.

[civilization-illstayrighthere]

RED DYE NO. 40, a silverVdyne fic ( rated E, 4.8k words )

summary: Johnny never comes back from a gig without some sort of loudly voiced grievance or complaint; luckily, Kerry and V are there to help. tags: PWP, fluff, established relationship, post-canon, teasing as a love language, threesome, dirty talk, face fucking

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