#the song playing when the blizzard came on was a hard rain’s a gonna fall which was a very funny coincidence

[pjharvey-moved]

i’m working on writing songs for a solo album and so far every song is either love songs or about romantic relationships except i have one song i wrote about the time i had a near death experience on the freeway in a snowstorm while listening to bob dylan

[natromanxoff]

22 - Cars & Queenie Days

Hi there Queenie people.

What a strange little weekend this one turned out to be. Let me start by saying that most of my stories seem to have something to do with alcohol, but we were all a hell of a lot younger then, and I for one cannot do that anymore, well not all the time. Although a few days ago an old friend made a guest appearance, the Kurgen was let loose on the streets of Bondi which seemed to start a string of Queen type events. It all started about midday on Saturday when a friend of mine phoned and suggested lunch, what a fantastic idea as it was a lovely hot sunny day, so we met in a nice place with a garden and ordered the first bottle of wine, and it was the Linda Lovelace of vino, it went down very quickly and easily. During the course of the afternoon I phoned my mate Steve and said he should join us, which he did at about 8pm, and we finally moved indoors to have dinner, after sitting in the sun and guzzling wine for the last six hours, and needless to say I'm pissed so we ordered some more food and what turned out to be the last bottle of plonk for the evening.

Half way through dinner Rebecca decided she was to out of it to continue, and wisely went home, leaving the Kurgen and his mate, who has decided he's gonna catch up with me, what a good friend eh, but him getting drunk means me becoming a complete gibbering idiot. After dining we moved next door to the bar where the whisky was flowing very rapidly and the idiot telling one barmaid she looked like a cheap hooker, while swearing his undying love to another. Oh, get me another drink Steve, I think I need one. It finally gets to 1am and time to head home, it's been a long day, and while trying to negotiate the 10min walk I was complaining that my right leg wouldn't work, usual drunken crap.

What has this got to do with Queen I hear you ask, well, apart from the fact that a million years ago I worked for them for a while, not very much. Steve and myself eventually got back to my place and I got phoneitis and I had the need to speak with everyone from my dodgey past, so, phone book out and lets go. Pride of place went to Mr Deacon who was lucky to be speaking on the phone so the Kurgen, after two tries, couldn't get through. Time up for you pal, next. Broughie. He always calls me when he's legless, now it's his turn to try and decipher what I'm on about. When I got through to Trip I can remember saying, "Where the f*** are you?" And do you know what, I have no idea what the answer was, though he did say they cancelled a couple of shows, and everyone was having a great time. This is fun, lets spend some more money. The next call started with, "Mr Taylor, it's Mr Taylor here." Sorry Rog, but you did pick up the phone. I did tell him I'd listened to his new stuff on his website and it's the best stuff he'd done in years, and I have an awful feeling I said that I didn't like 'Happiness,' but he did say that he reads my memoirs, so if you get to see this Mr T. I'll try and be a bit more sober next time I call.

Jacky followed, phone was busy (No it wasn't, we were out, you left a message!!) , gotta move on, I'm on a roll now. A new game, lets try and track down my ex in LA, no luck, thank god, and with that my new accountant Steve took the phone away from me, thanks dear boy. He clears off around 3 and I hit the sack and descend into a coma. Ring ring.....ring ring. Its 9am, who the f*** is phoning in the middle of the night, so, with head pounding I track the phone down and had to raise a bit of a giggle, it's Broughie and now he's pissed and he told me that in nearly twenty years of knowing me, that is the worst he's ever heard me try and talk, to which I reply that this is the worst I've ever felt.

Spandau's Tony Hadley was the next person I speak to, what a diamond geezer, always nice to chat with him. Sunday was a non-existent day with a phone that had no sympathy for me and kept ringing, amazingly it's still in one piece. A wet Monday and I'm still feeling a bit iffy, but come afternoon I receive a package in the post, I like little surprises, so when I walk in and turn the radio on Bo Rap is playing, and when I open my pressie it's from the ever gorgeous Jacky who has very kindly sent me RT's Electric Fire. You know what I mean, his new CD not the electric fire out of his bedroom. I'm glad I told him it was great, cause it is, in my humble opinion, possibly the best thing he's done. That was a hell of a lot of words just to say " go and buy Electric fire and put it in the charts, you won't be disappointed".

I was chatting with Greg Fryer, the fireplace restorer, and we're both looking forward to the Australian convention in a few weeks, although I might be drinking lemonade as I made the idiot promise that "I'm never drinking again". Some time ago somebody asked me a question which went something like, "When you were in the studio with just Roger or the Cross, was it a bit of an anti climax after working with Queen as they were such brilliant musicians." I don't know if I'm missing something here, but as Roger was a solo artist, a member of the Cross and also in Queen, surely that must make him brilliant. Well, whatever your name was, no it wasn't boring it was mostly fun. When he was producing other acts I must admit that I did a lot of sitting around doing bugger all, and I every act were ok as people, though once Jimmy Nail had a hit he did get a rather large ego and changed into a real prat.

Virginia Wolf had two old buddies of mine in the band, Joe Burt and Jason Bonham, so when we went to Ibiza to record it was party time from start to finish, though Jason did go overboard a bit, so to protect us more than him we sent him back to England. I was only involved in one Cross album, Shove It, and that was just going to be another RT solo album so he played all the instruments himself.

I think I've mentioned before that we drove the Bentley to Montreux, well this was the time. The plan was to spend three or four days in Montreux recording then go to Gstaad to write some more songs. That was the excuse because we had a huge chalet there and the idea was to do a lot of skiing and a bit of writing, which is exactly what we did. It was in Gstaad that Roger came up with the idea of forming a band, and after a hard day on the slopes we would sit around at night working out a plan on putting a band together. On the subject of Bentleys and Gstaad I feel obliged to tell you just how much bad luck RT has with his cars.

When he bought his first Range Rover he claimed "You can park them on a sixpence." We had to tow him out of a ditch. His Ferrari burst into flames on his way to the south of France, and his Aston Martin also burst into flames. He hardly ever drove the Bentley, it was my baby and I loved it and never had any problems. Dominique decided she was going to join our little ski trip and was coming to Gstaad, now don't get me wrong, I love Dom, a fine lady, still is, it's just that I didn't fancy the hour drive down the mountain and then the hour along the motorway to the airport. On the day of her arrival RT surprised me by saying he was going to pick her up, that'll do me, drop me off at the chair lift and have a nice drive. A very pleasant afternoon was spent on the piste so when I get back to the house I'm ready for some mindless computer games, and while in the middle of shooting some aliens the phone rings and it's Dominique asking where Roger was as he's not at the airport to pick her up.

The only thing I can say is for her to hang on because he left in plenty of time so he should be there, and I'm back to saving the world. Hours later the door flies open with Roger ranting and raving and saying something about F-in-cars. What's his problem? I look out the window and in the driveway is a VW Golf, so the obvious question is, "Where's the Bentley?" When his lordship finally calmed down he explained that when he got to the motorway there was a blizzard, so he had to have the windscreen wipers on full, but the one on the drivers side came off, so he stopped the car and was groping around in the snow looking for it, and he found it and put it back on. So far so good, except a couple of miles further on it came off again, and this time it was nowhere to be seen. Now try and picture the situation. Swiss motorway, lots of snow falling, very expensive black Bentley and a very famous pop star hanging out the window while driving so he can wipe the snow off the screen so he can see. Not a very good look at all.

On arrival at Geneva he took the car to the Rolls Royce dealer to get fixed, and it wasn't long after this that I said my final goodbye to a trusty friend. Roger on the other hand said Good F***ing Riddance. I have an equally pathetic driving story when we were in Rio, this time it was the two of us, a convertible and one hell of a lot of rain. Next time might be right to tell you how we put the Cross together from the first ad. onwards. Before I go I have a question for Jacky. Do you remember all those bacon sandwiches we had at the auditions? That's it for now Bye

Crystal

[axther]

Butterfly’s Repose

bakugou katsuki/reader

Dante can’t provide insight, but the girl in the woods can.

Bakugou Katsuki didn’t know what people saw in poets.

They always wrote about death or some morbid shit, or love and oh, how sickeningly lovely it was, and he didn’t have time for that. He had to make it to number one pro hero, then he’d maybe look into it. But now he had homework and hero training.

But right now, he had to provide an analysis of Dante’s Inferno, and the first three circles. Bakugou couldn’t care less about Dante and Vergil. Dante felt like a sappy, moaning emo, and Vergil was faceless.

So that’s why Bakugou sat in the dorm living room, ready to burn the book in his hands.

Present Mic had made sure to express how he wanted the students to find the positive light, but Bakugou couldn’t find it. And as if the lord was spitting on him, fucking Deku walked through the doors, chattering loudly with Uraraka. He felt his frustration spike when Deku decided to tap him on his shoulder.

“Kaachan! You’ll never believe who I ran into!” Deku tittered. Bakugou threw Dante’s Inferno on the couch.

“What the fuck do you want, Deku?” Bakugou barked. “Can’t you see I’m fucking busy?”

Deku held up his hands but didn’t seem nervous. “Ah, it’s just that I ran into-”

“Not my fucking problem.” Bakugou picked up Dante’s Inferno again and made tracks for the doors, not wanting to have to deal with Deku and Uraraka. “I’m gonna go fucking study this.”

“Hey! Don’t you even want to know?” Uraraka had her hands on her hips, puffing her cheeks out.

“Not. My. Problem.”

Bakugou didn’t wait for their permission, shoving open the doors and taking in the air of spring. It was may and bordering on summer, but the flowers were still in mid-bloom, with the heavy scent of daffodils hanging in Bakugou’s lungs. He let out another huff before opening the book again and beginning to walk, hoping to get anywhere that was away from Deku.

Slowly, he lost focus on where he was going, simply letting his feet wander as he moved on from the third circle to the fourth, and the fifth, and before he realised it, the sky had begun to turn into a shade of blue and black that only meant that Bakugou had spent far longer than he would’ve liked reading about how people were punished.

He blinked, pulling the book away from his face. He was in the woods on campus somewhere, on a trail, with near no clue how he got there in the first place. He was somewhere behind the school, possibly where All Might had launched the first Nomu they had come across, in their first year.

He spun around a bit, trying to figure out which way it took to get back to the dorms when he heard a piano. It was soft and repetitive, and insurmountably gentle. In a word, soothing.

Bakugou hated being curious. But he hated not having answers more.

He followed the sound of the music, noticing the sudden spawning of flowers on the path ahead of him. Some were ones that he knew, from Inko Midoriya’s garden, but others grew on trees and looked like ones he had never seen before. One even emerged with a glittery puff, bright red and lily-like. Tall, tall ferns, taller than Bakugou rose up and unfurled in the growing moonlight, and he felt a sense of awe begin to wash up inside him. It would kill him to admit it to anyone else, but it was beautiful.

Dante’s Inferno and getting back to the dorms was long forgotten. Instead, Bakugou followed the direction of the flower’s growth, noticing that they were all funnelling and making their way to the same spot. He felt bad for trampling on some of them but made sure to keep an eye on where he stepped after he crushed a plant that looked a bit like a teardrop on a stem.

As he got close, he realised the plants were making noise. Some, in a literal sense, were playing instruments, like the harp, but others made sounds like an aeroplane, or water hitting water. They got louder the further down he went on the path, but it felt discombobulated and chaotic.

And then he saw her.

She sat at an ivy-laced piano in a clearing, and the moonlight fell around her like a halo. She had on a U.A. uniform, but she could’ve been in anything else and it wouldn’t have mattered. She sang softly and seemed to only ghost over the keys, and the entire forest still seemed to lean into her presence like she was the earth itself. The world was hers, and she knew it, and Bakugou knew it.

She paused for a second, glancing over her shoulder without showing her own face, before starting again. She sang louder, and the plants started literally tilting towards her when she began harmonising. It was like a euphoric prayer falling from her lips, and the plants began harmonising with her until it was a mighty chorus, dedicated to her beauty. Bakugou felt goosebumps go down his spine, and it was pure bliss.

“You’re lost, aren’t you?” She spoke, softly and sweetly, still playing some notes with a graceful touch. Bakugou jumped in his skin, not expecting her to even acknowledge his existence.

“Kind of,” He murmured, taking a step back when she rose from the bench and turned, looking him in the eyes. She seemed familiar, just so that it was infuriating Bakugou, like he could reach out and be able to figure it out. She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled.

“You came to listen.” Her voice was like rain, Bakugou realised. Rain on a roof after you feel like crying, and the rain seems to heal all it touches. “You heard the call, and you came.”

She approached him, taking careful steps like he was going to bolt. He realised that she was barefoot, and with every step she took, a glowing white flower would rise in her foot’s place.

“I guess.” He gasped. It felt like the air was being ripped from his lungs when she was chest to chest with him, and he stared into her eyes.

“Those that hear the call of the forest are often not satisfied. Are you satisfied, Bakugou Katsuki?”

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t wonder how she knew his name, or how it was like she was calling him out. He could only stare at her, close enough to count every eyelash and to see the dim glow of her eyes. There was a moment of silence before she broke away, turning back to her piano.

“The p-lilies will show you out.” She gestured to the white flowers that, rather than follow her return to the piano, began to make a path of glowing white. “And you will always be able to find me again.”

Bakugou began to slowly start following the path, something deep in him begging not to go as the girl started playing again, humming something about butterflies and returning home.

That had been a year ago.

Bakugou absolutely did find her again. And again, and again, every night for a year. Even in winter, when there had been a blizzard advisory, he found her, and her clearing wasn’t even affected by the blizzard, and instead had a powdery layer of snow and whispering mushrooms poking out of the dirt. But spring was always the time that she was kindest, where she seemed happiest. The p-lilies only bloomed in spring, and they glowed brighter when Bakugou sat next to the girl.

Somehow, seeing the girl had become his only form of comfort. On the nights where he thought too hard, when he remembered the League of Villains and All Might and had nightmares, he would climb out his window and follow the p-lilies, letting them take him to the girl so he could cry into her shoulder as she played the piano. She never judged him, never spoke ill of him, and never made him feel unappreciated. Somehow, someway, she had planted a seed of herself into his heart, and he had grown to love her. And he didn’t know how he knew, but he knew that she loved him, just as much. It was an unspoken agreement to not discuss it, but to bask in each other’s presence and listen to the song that the girl played that day.

Some days, it was euphoric, like when Bakugou first met her, with the entire forest coming into tune to sing her praises. Other days, when it rained hard and thunder struck, it was full of melancholia, with her putting her soul into her mournful cries of something that Bakugou could never heal. Those days, the p-lilies wouldn’t grow. Instead, tall trees with blue leaves and water lilies would grow in the water, and they would make the air smell like sorrow.

Those were the days that, instead of the girl being there for Bakugou, Bakugou was there for her. And as such was his life, for a year.

But as graduation approached, Bakugou felt a sense of dread.

The two of them only met through U.A., in the woods. Bakugou didn’t want to leave her behind, for her to move on to comfort someone else. He supposed it was selfish, but it was true.

Which was why Bakugou found himself in his room, with a handful of camellias and peonies in his hand. His hair was brushed and he had dressed in a black button-down, as opposed to his usual black skull shirt. He even put a bit of cologne on.

In the year he had gotten to know her, he had never asked her name. She already knew his, so he never saw fit for repetitive introductions. But today was going to be a milestone for the two of them.

He was going to get her name and ask her out.

He swallowed back the fear in his throat and gave an affirmative nod to himself before leaving his room. Some of his classmates sat in the living room as he left, and Sero turned around with a catty grin.

“What’re you so dolled up for, Bakugou?”

“Yeah!” Kaminari joined in. “You got a hot date?”

They laughed amongst themselves, letting Bakugou fume.

“Fuck you! Maybe I do!”

“Maybe?” Mina joined in. “I hope she knows!” Her wheezing cut the joke off near the end, and she smacked the back of the couch as Kaminari and Sero laughed harder.

“Sh-Shut up!” Bakugou howled, barging through the glass doors of the dorm with a red face and redder ears. The flowers in his hand were being crushed, but he didn’t care. He just needed to get out before he lost the guts to ask the girl.

He walked into the woods, going nowhere and somewhere at the same time. He knew he would find her.

Sure enough, he found her clearing with ease. She sat on the bench, as per her usual spot, but she fully turned when she heard Bakugou stomp into the clearing.

“Hello, Katsuki. Is everything all r-?”

“Fucking take these!” He barked, holding out the camillas and peonies and watching her take them with surprised caution.

“Oh? Thank you...these are lovely.” She held them close to her, watching Bakugou plop himself onto the bench with a loud huff and placing his head in his arms on the keys with a discordant bang. “Is something the matter?”

“I just…” Bakugou faltered. All the courage he had before was leaking out of him, and when he looked up into the girl’s worried eyes, he felt a tug in his heart. “What’s your name?”

The girl, who was in the middle of place the flowers on top of the piano, froze. “What?”

“Yeah. I never asked you and it’s kinda important, and I never fuckin’ bothered to think about it, and-”

“Wait, wait, wait, I mean...you don’t know?” She blinked owlishly at him. Bakugou blinked up at her.

“No.” He said. The girl sat and stared at the keys. “I figured you knew mine from, like, the fuckin’ trees or something.”

“Oh my god.” The girl held her face in her hands. “You didn’t know. The entire time you didn’t know.”

“Yeah...what’s…?” Bakugou felt lost.

“I...I’m YN, Katsuki.”

“Wait, YN from-!” Bakugou felt shock begin to overcome his body. The fact that she was so familiar, so close, suddenly made all the sense in the world.

“YN from daycare. Until I moved, around middle school, remember?”

“Oh my god.” Bakugou covered his own face from a heavy flush and nearly tipped back off of the bench. “I can’t believe…”

Honeysuckle memories began to overtake him, and he let out a hefty sigh. He remembered her, of course, and remembered long, hot summers where they dirtied their hands from digging up bugs and having to rinse them in the river.

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognise you. I mean, you looked familiar, but still…”

“I assumed you knew, and that we just never talked about it.” YN let out a tense laugh. Bakugou let his embarrassment begin to calm down, and he glanced at the camillas and the peonies, and then at YN. She was smiling to herself, fingering the keys on the piano as a p-lily blossomed between her feet.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Hm?” YN looked up. “What’s up?”

Bakugou stared at YN’s wide eyes, feeling a bit dizzy. It was like the year culminated into that one moment, oozing into that minute. It made his heart begin to race. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to go about it, but his heart leapt out.

“I’m graduating soon. We both are. And I don’t see you outside of…” Bakugou gestured vaguely to the clearing. “Whatever the fuck this is.”

“Yeah? And?” YN pursed her lips.

“I don’t want to...stop seeing you. At all.”

“That’s sweet, Katsuki-“

“You’ve become a constant.” Bakugou knew it was rude to interrupt YN, but he needed to get it off his chest. “You’ve become an axis that helps me turn. Every time I see flowers, I think of you. I won’t be able to see spring the same ever again. So long as it’s spring, I’m surrounded by you. And I don’t fuckin’ know if you still want to see me, after we graduate, but considering the fact that I’m addicted to you, I never want to let you go.”

YN fell mute, her jaw hanging slightly. She blinked owlishly, before an ear to ear grin consumed her face.

“Katsuki the poet. Who knew you could be so eloquent?”

“Is that a yes or a no?!” Bakugou felt his heart race from the idea of being rejected, but YN placed her hand on his and leaned in.

“Katsuki, if you’re trying to ask me out, then it’s a yes.”

Bakugou felt his heart release from its race and his eyes go wide. A bliss came over him, and though he tried to smother it, a smile crawled up his face.

“Then...when do ya’ wanna meet, again?” He had a giddy grin on his face and gave a quick, flushed Eskimo kiss.

“Tomorrow as always, Katsuki. Tomorrow as always.” YN pulled away, placing her hands on the keys and playing a soft, overjoyed tune. Bright flowers started blooming, and Bakugou leaned in to put his head on YN’s shoulder.

Bakugou Katsuki didn’t know what people saw in poets. But he could understand them all in just how lovely love was.

a/n: written for @heroinepose for @bnhaclaimedmysoul ‘a BNHA Spring Time Event!!! Surprise!!! I’m your...pen pal??? Secret Santa??? We may never know. I actually wrote the latter end of this on my phone because my mom claimed the computer and wouldn’t get off, so please forgive any typos 🙇🏻‍♀️ this was also written in less than a day, so I’m prouder of this than I should lmao