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swiss-mrs · 4 months

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Intro: All Access Pass

Life Eternal Series

Eddie Munson x Rockstar!Black!Reader

(Word Count:3.3K)

Synopsis: Eddie couldn’t just NOT enter the contest. With the help of his younger, tech savvy friend, Eddie and Dustin created a mini music video of sorts, showcasing how skillful of a guitarist he is, filmed atop his trailer. This is how he got to where he is now, backstage at a Blastoff Summer Fest, the summer's biggest, outdoor rock festival!

*Masterlist, Series Warnings, Additional Series/Reader Info, and Posting Schedule*

All writing is in second person unless clearly stated otherwise. No Use of Y/N.

Cydonia Set List

Eddie seriously couldn't comprehend his current situation. He was really about to perform with Metallica… in a couple hours, but still, holy sHIT!

He and his plus one, Dustin, had spent the last few hours exploring the festival, and now they were backstage. The band currently on stage was in the middle of their last song. After them, there was only one more act before Metallica, and Eddie, was on.

Eddie's heart hasn't beat at a normal pace all day. It didn't matter the amount of sound checks he'd already gone through, he was still nervous as all hell to perform with his idols.

They were in a green room, watching a monitor that was displaying the performing acts. "You're gonna be up there, man! Can you believe it?!" Dustin exclaims excitedly.

Eddie shakes his head 'no', still in disbelief. “Nah, man. I really can't. This all feels so surreal.” Just as the current band can be seen vacating the stage, the spotlights turn on and the massive screens on stage change to start displaying a pre-show trailer of sorts for the next band. The crowd was cheering so loud, the two boys could hear the screams from backstage. They were chanting the entire way through the video for the next band. Eddie’s brows crease, “For a band I’ve never heard of, they are quite popular. Cydonia?”

“Oh yeah! That’s the band with the huge display in the front at TR.” Dustin said, referring to their favorite music store back in Hawkins.

“Hm.” Eddie nods. He recalls the fiery display next to the register, but he didn’t buy into it, skeptical of the stars.

Though the stage was blacked out, he could still see shadows of people walking onto the stage, the crowd roaring impossibly louder. The sounds of a resonating guitar could be heard as the band readied, counting down, before starting their opening song with a guitar riff. The crowd went completely feral at that moment.

Eddie studied the screen. The camera was zoomed out, showing the full band on stage. They really had a full band. There was a keyboardist, a drummer, a bassist, two guitarists, one being the lead singer, and a backup singer who had a multitude of instruments around him. Each member was dressed in all black with the lead standing out in blood red. They had a vaguely 1800s aesthetic, very theatrical. Each outfit was slightly unique, but all of them came together to create one cohesive look.

The intro to their opening song lasted a full minute, the band showcasing their musical talents using their respective instruments alone. It was truly amazing to hear and see so many musicians playing together in sync. Each musician was facing each other as if in a large jam circle, the only one truly facing the crowd being the drummer. Eddie felt a pang in his heart watching them. He wanted nothing more than to be performing like them, in a band with such musical chemistry.

After the first minute, the circle was broken by the lead singer turning to walk up to the microphone at the front of the stage, allowing Eddie to get a full view of the person. They adorned long, wild locks that fell into their face, giving them a grungy yet ethereal look. Eddie didn't know what to expect, but whatever came out of the lead vocalist's mouth was not it. The vocalist sang in a lower register, for a girl that is. He was used to most popular female vocalists of the time focusing on their higher vocal range. To him, those singers he’s heard of, though impressive, became annoying over time. This singer's voice was different. It melded with the music perfectly. Eddie could immediately understand the incredible hype from the crowd. They were utterly unique from most radio bands and artists, and they brought a sense of nostalgia, keeping the sound of rock and metal, the sound Eddie loved with all his heart, alive.

After their first song, they immediately went into the next. Their melodies were dark, and their lyrics were cynical, but listening to their music created an almost spiritual experience for Eddie. Both he and Dustin were completely entranced.

“Do you want to go watch the show in the pit?” A woman’s voice broke their intense concentration on the screen. They both whip their heads and look at the graying woman with wide eyes.

“Can we?!” Dustin screamed excitedly.

“As long as Shag here is back in time for his queue.” The production crew member replied, motioning towards Eddie.

Dustin jumps up, “Yeah, sure. Let’s go!” He grabs a hold of the jean vest on Eddie’s shoulder, pulling him off the couch and out the door. The heavy bass of the drums and muffled guitar riffs could be heard echoing through backstage as they ran through the halls. They could hear the clear melodies being sung by the band and crowd alike, sounding like a choir. They had to ask a few random staff members to point them in the right direction as they went, but eventually they made it, getting to the pit just in time to catch the tail end of the guitar solo.

It was weird to be on this side of the fence at a concert, but it was exhilarating. The sun was almost fully set by now, so every light and effect on stage was magical, especially so up close and personal. By the time Dustin and Eddie the perfect spot, the final bit of the band's second song was ending.

The lead singer stepped back up to the mic, “Thank you everyone for coming out tonight. You’ve already shown us so much love.” They spoke directly into the mic, lips caressing the metal cover. Their voice was a little raspy, but soothing, the complete opposite of the usual energetic shouts singers give when addressing the audience. Just as they began to speak, the backup singer picked up an acoustic guitar, and began playing the opening riff of their next song. “It’s such an honor to be able to play alongside such talented artists and legends. For those who don’t know, we are Cydonia,” Another feral cheer from the crowd caused the lead to smirk and let out a small chuckle into the mic, girls and guys alike could be heard screaming at the top of their lungs in reaction to the singer's smirk. “And this next song is called Cirice.” Just on queue, the drummer hit two symbols, bringing in the keyboardists. A few more beats pass, before the electric guitars join in, mimicking the original riff played on the acoustic. The lead backed away from their mic and closed the space between them and the other guitarist. They both played in perfect sync with each other. It was genuinely mesmerizing. The next minute and a half was spent with Dustin cheering in Eddie’s ear along with the crowd, headbanging to the heavy music.

“I feel your presence amongst us,” The lead points out to the crowd,

“You cannot hide in the darkness.” Their hand made its way back to strum the guitar in time for the next beats.

“Can you hear the rumble?

Can you hear the rumble that's calling?” The world felt as if it was shaking. If it weren’t for the thunderous crowd and earth shaking music, Eddie would’ve thought the earth was quaking.

“I know your soul is not tainted

Even though you've been told so

Can you hear the rumble?

Can you hear the rumble that's calling?” Eddie was starting to feel a pressure in his chest. The singer’s gaze was taken from their guitar and out to the crowd.

“I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

I can see through the scars inside you

I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

I can see through the scars inside you.” It was as though the song was being sung directly to him. Eddie couldn’t bring himself to move. Everything around him went dark, and the only thing in focus was the band playing on stage, the singer calling out to his heart. All he could do was stand there and watch as the lead focused their eyes back down to their guitar.

“A candle casting a faint glow

You and I see eye to eye

Can you hear the thunder?

How can you hear the thunder that's breaking?

Now there is nothing between us

From now our merge is eternal

Can't you see that you're lost?

Can't you see that you're lost without me?” Eddie's eyes were wide, full of emotion. His lips were beginning to form a pout. He watched as the singer reached out to the crowd as if offering a hand. During the second chorus, Eddie’s mind was somehow both blank and running wild. It felt as though multiple people were screaming in his head at once. It was loud, but he couldn’t distinguish a single thing, rendering the voices void.

The lead walked back and stood right next to the other guitarist, the bassist walking up to stand on the other side of them. They all stood in a line as they rocked out together, the bassist keeping rhythm as the guitarists swapped solos. Eddie felt a strong pull on his heart watching the musicians get lost in the music together. Even the keyboardist had a solo to shine, just before the arena went nearly silent, save for the three notes played on the keyboard and a symbol hit.

“Can't you see that you're lost without me?” The lights flashed with two beats.

“I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

I can see through the scars inside you.” Eddie could have sworn the lead’s eyes fell upon him in this moment, looking at him with sadness and understanding.

“I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

I can see through the scars inside you.” The singer closed their eyes and belted out the last word. Eddie felt like crying, his breath hollow and shaky. The backup singers repeat the chorus lines.

“I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

I can see through the scars inside you.” The last notes of the instruments rang out, the crowd going wild at the end of the song. Dustin’s loud cheers and voice crack brings Eddie back to reality. Dustin bumps against Eddie as he jumps up and down. For the first time, Eddie’s eyes are ripped away from the stage. He blinks away the wetness collecting in his eyes as he takes in the enthusiasm of the crowd and his friend. He was already emotional from the song and its lyrics, but now that pressure in his chest returned for a different reason, the burn of desire and pull of longing. He longed to be the one they were cheering for, God, was he a mix of emotions right now. His eyes were now wide with wonder. The environment was thrilling.

The end of the song leads directly into the next, the drummers hi hat counting the guitarists off. The next song was also emotional for Eddie. The last song made him feel vulnerable, as if the darkness and pain he felt was being called out in front of thousands. This song made him feel almost hopeful. He didn’t feel alone. He was able to enjoy the excitement of being front row at a concert. He bounced along with Dustin, headbanging and dancing around with his curly-haired friend. He felt good. He was smiling, wiping his curls around. He and Dustin played air guitar during the solos without even knowing the song. The bright smile on his younger friend’s face brought joy to his heart. It was like Eddie got to share an experience he wished he could’ve given to his younger self. They shared a crazed laugh after the song ended.

Every song after that was full of highs. Some performances were erotic, pleasing the crowd with the sensual roles the band played. Some were emotional, raw, songs of pain, songs of love, and songs of heartbreak. Overall the concert was euphoric.

Eddie and Dustin spent the few final seconds of the concert screaming at each other, jumping up and down. The band was leaving the stage, and the lights began to dim. Just before it went completely dark, the same lady from earlier came out of nowhere, causing both boys to jump in surprise at her sudden appearance. “Come on, hot shot! We need you backstage!” She shouts over the crowd. Eddie looks back at Dustin.

“I’ll stay here! I have the best seat in the house!” He shouts with a big gummy grin.

Eddie nods, “Wish me luck!” He said as the lady began pulling him away.

“You got this!” Dustin shouts after him.

Just as Eddie made it backstage, the lady let go of him, giving him instruction to stay close before she disappeared into the many moving pieces of staff. Eddie wandered a bit closer to the stage’s artist entrance/exit. As he got closer to the stage, he caught a glimpse of the band members he just watched perform. His heart stopped, a wave of excitement and nervousness washing over him. Eddie didn’t know where his confidence came from, but he walked right up to them, “You guys rocked!” He says enthusiastically, catching the attention of the few band members closest to him. He recognized them to be the drummer, the bassist, and the keyboardists. The three turned to him and smiled.

“Wow, thanks man!” The towering, slender drummer said with a big smile, nudging Eddie on the shoulder with his fist. “Means a lot.” Eddie returned a smile up to him.

“Hey, you were in the pit right?” The bassist points out, pointing a finger in Eddie’s direction. Eddie turns his gaze to the strawberry blonde and nods in response. “You looked really into it.” He chuckled.

Eddie’s face warms up a bit, and he shrugs, “I mean you guys were awesome. You all have great chemistry. I came in blind and was blown away.” The taller bassist raises his brows and nods with an impressed frown.

“Well, thank you.”

“Hey, aren’t you that guy who did that cover of Master of Puppets?” The drummer chimes back in, grabbing Eddie’s attention again.

“You’ve heard of me?” Eddie asks, shocked.

“Of course, we’re all big Metallica fans. Marley was the one who showed you to all of us.” He says pointing to the keyboardist on the opposite side of the bassist.

“Yeah! I knew you looked familiar!” The shorter, brunette says, snapping as her memory is jogged. “Great video! It was like a proper music video. I loved all the special effects. It looked like you were literally rocking out in hell.” The three bandmates shared a laugh, agreeing.

“Wow, thanks! I’ll have to pass that down to Dustin. He’s the tech genius.”

“Did you win a backstage pass or something?” The drummer asks.

“Yeah, the video was actually my submission to a contest we found in a magazine. I won and got invited to play with Metallica!” Eddie says proudly. The three band members all dropped their jaws, looking at him with wide eyes.

“No fucking way!”

“That’s fucking awesome!”

“You are so lucky!” Eddie boasts in pride as they all praise him.

“What happened?” Another chimes in. Eddie’s eyes follow the source of the voice. A figure walks around from behind the short keyboardist, now known as Marley. It's you. Eddie felt time slow as he took in your appearance.

Your dark hair was wild, curling every which way, some shorter strands sticking to your damp forehead. The hair on the left side of your face was tucked behind your left ear, the strands on the right side falling in front of your right eye. You were just tall enough to look Eddie right in the eyes but were still just an inch or so shorter. Your blood red coat was now undone, exposing the black undershirt. Eddie had to keep himself from staring at the exposed skin of your neck like a deprived little boy.

“Remember that video of the guy shredding Master of Puppets? He got invited to play with Metallica tonight.” The bassist states, pointing at Eddie. Eddie’s eyes make their way back up to your face. You were turned to look at the bassist as he spoke, giving Eddie a perfect view of your profile.

“Oh, really?” You turn to look at Eddie. He nods, unusually speechless. “That’s so cool, congrats, dude. You’re really talented. You deserve it.” You offer him a small smile. He returns the smile ten fold.

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from you, from you guys. You’re the real rockstars.” Eddie replies, rushed. You let out an amused huff through your nose.

The small keyboardist interrupts the small moment between you two, “Well, we’re all going to the pit to watch. We’ll see you out there!” The rest of them nodded. The three start to walk away, heading to their dressing room to change out of their stage outfits. You stay behind for an extra few seconds. Eddie felt as though you could see right through him. He is snapped out of his little trance when he feels a pat on his upper arm.

“Knock ‘em dead, rockstar.” You narrow your eyes and give him another small smirk, before walking away in the same direction as the others.

Eddie felt electricity running through his entire body. He stood there for an extra few seconds after you disappeared. A toothy smile crept onto his lips, and he slowly began jumping up and down, fanboying a little. He lets out a yell. Some of the staff in his immediate vicinity turn to give him weird looks. He stops making a scene and lifts a hand in a small wave as if to say ‘sorry, carry on’ to those who stopped to look at him. He smiled to himself.

“Eddie Munson?” He turned to find a guy with a headset and a clipboard scanning the area. Eddie raises his hand.

“That’s me!” The mustached man motions for him to come. Eddie jogs up to them, and they start listing off instructions.

“Alright, the guys are going to go out first. A few songs in, they will give you a queue to join them on stage. You’ll play then run back off stage in time for them to play their next song, just like you practiced. Got it? Good.” This guy was pretty cut and dry which Eddie raised a brow at, but he nodded none-the-less. Shortly after their one sided conversation ended, Eddie was ushered to the edge of the stage entrance. He still couldn’t get over being in the same room as his idols. They all turned to him and cheered.

“There he is!” THE James Hetfield said loudly. Eddie gets a couple pats on the back.

“Let’s go rock the house down, kid.” Lars said, giving Eddie a fist bump before the band heads out and to their places on stage. Eddie watches from the side, in complete bliss.

As the first song begins, the older lady from earlier hands him his guitar, smiling sweetly at him before walking away. He gives the guitar a kiss, “Can you believe this, sweetheart?” He throws the strap over his shoulder.

Eddie peeks out into the crowd and quickly spots Dustin losing his mind, bringing a laugh out of Eddie. Not far off from his friend, he could see a couple of the band members from before. He recognizes the three he met backstage. They were standing with another dark haired guy and a dirty blonde girl he didn’t meet earlier, but Eddie assumed they were in the band too. Eddie observed them all cheering for the legends on stage, then his eyes landed on you. You were singing and dancing with the dark haired guy he hadn’t met. The anxiety Eddie was feeling about his upcoming performance was quickly swapped with a pang of jealousy. He wanted to be the guy dancing and having fun with you.

“Eddie Munson!” Eddie’s head snaps back towards the stage to see James raising a hand in his direction.

“You’re on, kid!” Someone yells.

Eddie takes a deep breath. “You’re on, Munson.” He whispers to himself before running out on stage.

Welcome to Life Eternal!

Hope you liked this little intro! Let me know if you want to be tagged for updates.

All related content can be found under the #Life Eternal Swiss Fic tag

Tag list:

@starmilks

@ali-r3n

@madelynraemunson

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x rockstar oc #eddie munson x rockstar reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson swiss fics #life eternal swiss fic #swiss fics #eddie munson x black!reader

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noirvette · 1 year

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WE NEVER EXISTED

[band smau]

[FOUR CONTINUED.]

masterlist.

prev. | next.

extra.

cw: swearing

Stan's eyebrows furrow at the horror written on your face. He turns around and takes a few steps back at the surprising closeness between him and a guy covered in all black clothing. He backs up and stands in front of you, shielding your body using his.

The hooded figure just stands there, not moving, his face isn't even visible, Stan doesn't even know what to say, you don't even know what to say. Minutes pass and it feels like ages as the hooded figure slowly looks up. You still can't make out his face and from taking a glance at Stan he can't either.

"Y/n." His voice brings you chills, you don't recognize it but it sounds fake, like he's using a voice changer. "You need.." the man clears his throat, "I need to tell you something."

"You get any fucking closer and I knock you the fuck out, you bitch." Stan warns, quickly taking off his coat and throwing it to the side.

The man puts his hands up in defeat, "I'm not here to fight you, either of you. I have information for Y/n. Information that proves to her that the people she trusts isn't all what they hold up to be."

"That's enough, get out of he-" "Stan." You cut him off and Stan gives you an incredulous look, "Y/n, you cannot be serious."

"I am serious, but he has to tell us from where he's standing. Do you hear that?!" You raise your voice at the figure, "you tell me what you have from right there! Do not come any closer!"

The hooded figure chuckles, "I wasn't planning on getting any closer anyways, your guard dog looks vicious." Stan scoffs at that, "whatever, tell us what you know, creep."

"That's all I wanted her to know, her future is doomed, it's been set that way from the start. As of right now, she should be doing her part." The hooded figure coughs, "and I'm doing my part, giving you the forewarning. Take this information as you wish. I really mean no harm. I just want whats best for Y/n after all."

Disgust makes its way onto your face, "You know nothing about me how could you know what's best for me?"

The hooded man takes a step forward and immediately Stan does too, "I know everything about you, Y/n! You bought a gsrm20BS and you played it tonight. I know that you joined this band because of Kyle and Nichole, who asked you to play 2 months into the original formation of the band. I know that you used to live in Washington until moving to South Park 12 and half years ago. 12 years, 6 months and 4 days actually." The man starts shaking at he recalls details of you that even you forgot about.

Stan stands there, shocked at the man in front of you two. You stand there, shocked at the man in front of you two. Neither of you can believe the words coming out of his mouth.

You look at the distance between you and the hotel before nudging Stan. He catches your drift and shakes his head, mouthing a "still too dangerous." Unfortunately he'd be right too, the man's stance is one for lunging. You also can't tell if he's got any weapons on him.

The man is still talking about minute details about you before he abruptly stops, "I went off there, I apologize..I came here to tell you about how worried I was about you. I'll always be here for you, Y/n.." He trails off.

You wonder where Kyle is, if he's even noticed that you haven't arrived yet, texting him right as you left the venue was a smart move and at this point he should know you're late, but.. in his defense he's probably asleep.

That leaves the others, but they are going out to eat right now and are expecting Stan to be late so that's no good either.

Stan's phone is in his coat pocket that he threw on the ground and yours is in your jeans pocket, but you doubt you'd be able to get to it to send anyone a text in time before the stalker attacks you, Stan, or even the both of you if he has a weapon.

Lastly, you wonder about Kenny. He was going to facetime you after the concert ended. The concert was well over an hour ago and yet you still haven't received a call.

Before you can decide what to do, police sirens are heard in the far distance, the stalker freezes at the sounds of sirens and runs off into an alleyway besides the hotel before disappearing.

You look at Stan, nerves at an all time high, shock, fear, relief, and many more emotions evident on your face. Stan looks down at you with a similar look.

"Did..did you call the police?" Stan asks you after a few seconds pass, you shake your head, "I didn't even...reach my phone just in case he had a weapon on him.. I.." You look around at you to see if any passersby were in the street, but the streets were empty.

"Y/n! Stan! Oh jesus christ, thank god you guys are safe." Kyle runs down the hotel steps, before running to the two of you and pulling the two of you in a tight hug.

"Kyle! Dude, you have no idea how happy I am to see you right now." Stan breathes out, relief evident in his tone. Kyle lets the two of you go and you stand there, tears welling in your eyes before gripping onto Kyle once more. Sobbing into his shoulder you clutch onto him so tightly that Kyle thinks about how tomorrow he may see a few bruises.

"Thank you.." is all you can say muster out while sobbing as Kyle rubs your back soothingly. As you guys finally separate Stan turns to Kyle and asks, "how'd you know that we were in trouble?"

"I found your wallet in my bag, so as I was heading out the door to wait for you guys, I noticed the tense stand off, but I couldn't hear anything so I called the police because it seemed weird as hell. I thought it was a crackhead, why what happened?"

Before Stan has a chance to explain, the police finally pull into the front of the hotel. "Stalker." You whisper out to Kyle. As he hears those words he puts an arm around your shoulder and squeezes. The three of you turn to the police, getting mentally ready for an even longer night.

TAGLIST: @captivq @kimiesstuff @bwljules @the-cooler-kira @1one1person1 @kenny-the-ken @bokutokiya @neenieweenie @n0tangeliccc @revzxn @mirophobic @gonefiishiing @musiclovebot @bootsieboo @bonez4brainz @4xbei77 @1996kj @sweetadonisbutbetter @scinclaitnoir @okarigold

#kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #south park x reader #we never existed series

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not-goldy · 9 days

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If that’s what you think re fan service, how do you distinguish what is and what isn’t? Surely as it’s them, and we believe they are in a relationship, anything they do is them, or a part of them and their bond? Surely they use it solely as a cover, you make it sound depraved if not. I don’t know if I think they would lower themselves to the extent you’re suggesting, although they obviously do certain things to play up for the camera and with the other members, as that’s their mo as a band, they have fun etc, but to diminish jikook to Fs seems harsh Ngl.

Its easy to tell.

Fan service is any deliberate act or content designed and performed to excite fans and for the viewing pleasure of fans.

Huh, what do you mean depraved? You sound like a new fan. Fan service is a normal part of kpop ma'am Jikook do it too. They are kpop idols too.

When fans ask them to do aigoo make cute faces aren't those fan service? But this is on the tame side.

If they know we think they dating and they both deliberately try to kiss eachother on camera for shits and giggles that's fan service.

On stage they might go a little bit too far as to try to perform sexual gestures towards each other, try to kiss grind on each other just to see the crowd go feral.

But some fan service are just coincidental rather than curated like Tae kissing Jin ànd saying he knows fans will love that.

He enjoyed and perhaps would have kissed him on the cheeks jokingly regardless even if the cameras weren't around. That was a genuine interaction.

But it's a moment fans enjoy too.

But if it were problematic it would be easy for him to pass it off as fan service to avoid the backlash.

Jikook have a lot of genuine interactions they pass off as fanservice to avoid the unnecessary scrutiny backlash and homophobic rants.

This whole travel blog might just be one such moment.

But there are pure deliberate curated jikook moments designed specifically to feed fans and to make fans happy.

I don't see that in any recent content but a typical example with be certain jikook lives the company organize themselves. It's scheduled as part of their official schedules and we've seen Jikoom discuss how their schedules conflict over that.

But most of Jikooks lives are spontaneous. They do it because they want to and the interactions are organic. There isn't staff and crew members with a whole set setup light camera action on them like the lives they did around covid

If I recall correctly Jungkook expressed annoyance and discomfort with those set up.

He told Jimin he was uncomfortable with too many staff and Jimin said he didn't mind them at all and went ahead and tried to kiss Jungkook or whatever he was trying to do in that kitchen.

Then sometimes they have seating arrangements curated so jikook would sit together or sit with other members.

Namjoon called out Jimin for doing too much with Jungkook during Dynamite and Jimin explained the director had asked him to be goofy or something.

So yea, some times their moments are actually directed by staff and directors and coordinated

If you ask me they suck at fan service when it's time to do actual fan service. Jungkook tenses up and acts real awkward.

Someone find me the edit of him awkwardly staring at the cameras and stealing glances at the cams while trying to interact with Jimin

Okay that was a good laugh 😹😹😹😹😹

Can't believe I just tickle myself and laugh all by myself thinking bout jikook.

Jikook is driving me mad😹😹😹😹😹

For the most part the boys enjoy genuine interactions and none of their interactions are fake butthat doesn't mean some aren't curated just to make fans happy.

They are such comedians

Also these are not the type of discussions I want to have on this blog you can ask these on my main thanks💜🌈

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brodyd0ll · 6 months

Text

Distillers Deal With Rancid Shadow

ByABC News

December 12, 2000, 6:39 PM

December 12 -- Three and a half years ago, punk rocker Brody Armstrong moved from her native Australia to the United States to be with her boyfriend — and now husband — who happened to be Tim Armstrong, frontman of popular punk rocker outfit Rancid.

The two met on New Year's Eve 1996, when Brody's old band played on the same bill at a festival that included Rancid. "We met early in the day," she recalls. "It was love at first sight. I think I knew I was getting married when I first saw him."

Those feelings haven't changed, but after moving to the U.S. and starting another band, the Distillers, Armstrong acknowledges that she can't help but feel the strong shadow of her husband and his band — especially since the Distillers' self-titled debut album was released by her husband's Hellcat Records label and since the Distillers recently toured opening for Rancid.

"It is hard," says Armstrong, 21, who fell in love with music when she was 7 years old and an uncle took her to a Cyndi Lauper concert. "There's been a lot of name calling, a lot of accusing me of being a gold digger or whatever — comparisons to Yoko Ono and John Lennon, Kurt [Cobain] and Courtney [Love]. We're not part of that. I've been playing music since I was a little girl; it's what I've always known I wanted to do. I think it's unfair for people to judge me because I married a man who's kind of the same mind as me. We do the same thing, but I don't care. It's not anybody else's business."

As you might imagine, Armstrong describes the couple's household as something of a music Mecca, with song ideas flowing almost constantly. "He'll play me his stuff; I'll play him mine," she says. "We bounce it off each other. That's always good." Armstrong says she and Tim have also worked on some material together, none of which has been made public yet — and, by her account, probably won't be for some time. "It's just home stuff, like a lover's tape," she says.

"Maybe in the future we'll put out something together. Right now we both have separate things going on; he allows me that space. My band is pretty much just starting. Maybe after we have a 10-year career and put five records out, [Tim] and I can do something."

#brody dalle #the distillers #distillers #tim armstrong #rancid #the distillers interviews

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that-sims-four-blog · 2 months

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Oh dear, I started a Sims 4 playthrough.

You know what, "Leeb, Leefuh, Love" sounds like a pretty good sitcom name. I'm going to start naming whatever sitcom-fanfic this playthrough becomes—provided I don't chicken out of documenting This Thing out of cringe.

For starters, Metallica—the three angriest men of the year 2003—decided to move to some random house in Oasis Springs. Why? I don't know. Are they there to find a bassist? Dunno either.

Okay, maybe they aren't so angry.

In fact, James and Lars are coming along pretty well. Since there isn't a way in-game for them to start a thrash metal band, each members are doing mundane jobs!

Lars is a lawyer—looking at you, Napster—while James is an Entertainer, probably a comedian because why not. Kirk's getting a start in the Culinary career.

...Oh, yeah, the Welcome Wagon struck that household, too.

Johnny Zest made a fruitcake. I think they liked it—I can't recall what they thought of it... Kirk's social awkwardness begins to pop up, too, although advice from his totally-bandmates did help a bit.

And yes, that's Makoto Yuuki—from the popular PS2 video game Persona 3 FES—in the background. We'll bother about him in a bit. At least he gets along pretty well with the Metallica household, especially James.

Several hours later, Lars decided to become the new Skrillex, and played around with the music-making-table (I can't remember what they are called).

It's got about as much bass as ...And Justice For All, trust me.

Moving over to that place that the developers designed after the British countryside, not that I remember the world's name, the RBY household moved into a house. Weiss won't fit anywhere between the budding lovers Blake and Yang and the hyperfixative Ruby. She might get created at some point, just outside the hellhole.

So, yeah, there they are, living their lives in the moment.

This is probably my favorite screenshot of them, Blake probably being OOC be damned.

Also, most of the household seems to have fairly... memorable faces, especially Yang's psychotic expressions. I might compile them at some point in the future.

Anyways, so, jobs: Blake writes stuff. Yang is a cop—because I can, and I want her to be as silly as Martin Riggs; so she's stuck in a cop-aganda show. Ruby goes to high school, therefore she's stuck in some teenagers-do-stuff sitcom.

Oh, yeah, Ruby did go to high school, and I have some bits to document.

As pissed off because of some fear about unfulfilled dreams, she seems to have a thing for exercise. It's probably an excuse to offer you one of her goofy-looking faces, though.

There's some random person with the Zelda moon following them, apparently:

And there's also that thing.

I can't kill that Landgraab off for the grievous crime of T-posing?

God fucking damn it.

But aside from that, everything went as normal, and Ruby managed to acquaint herself with Cassandra Goth.

That's good, I suppose. There were two other Sims that she managed to befriend, too, but I forgot their names. No, that Landgraab is not on the list—absolutely not, nuh-uh.

Also, later that day, she decided to bring Ruby to the Hijinks-and-other-things Festival. She went off to the art museum, while Ruby's left on her own. Noooo, that never happened before in the show Ruby was from! haha! But yeah, she joined the Pranksters—mainly because I wanted a silly laugh—but upon finding out that James Hetfield is there, I thought it'd be utterly hilarious for her to prank him.

That's the best image I could capture. No, I'm not giving you the aftermath of the trolling.

So, that's one-half of a thing I'm doing, and I realized that I was capturing too many pictures for comfortable reading. Plus, the default Tumblr layout sucks for this kind of thing, and I have no clue how to code layouts, so... Yeah, the second half coming later on.

#the sims 4 #the sims 4 screenshots #ts4 #sims4 #archive convinience tag goes here

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wannaberp · 5 months

Text

— WHO IS HAN YUWOL?

he’s a TWENTY-ONE year old wannabe, born JUNE 6, 2002. he’s currently eyeing LIME ENTERTAINMENT and lives by the words “life is like weather; cloudless, raining, snowing.”

maybe you should learn more or ask him a question.

▶ PLAY THE CLIP [ harsh_critique.mp4 ]

maybe it isn't a common thing, having a father that has taken up the role of a mentor as well, cementing that position in his own child's life. yuwol had been born into those circumstances though, and he's no longer surprised over the fact that his father remains as his biggest critic. even more than the scathing reviewers within the industry who meticulously pay attention to his fingers against his violin strings in every single one of his concerts. there would be many paragraphs dedicated to an attempt in destroying his credibility as a violin prodigy, but those blocks of texts don't hold a candle to his father's simple and silent glare.

his father's eyes boring into the back of yuwol's neck would've been enough, but that is only the tip of the iceberg. "do you think that's good?" his father asks, tone even, no hint of any warmth that should have been present when a parental figure speaks to their own blood.

"no," yuwol answers simply, knowing his father will have more to say.

"then?" his father continues with his line of questions, leaning yuwol to respond the way he wants yuwol to.

yuwol fixes his posture, straightening his hold on his violin bow. he recalls the note that slipped, ruminates over his single mistake, vowing not to repeat it again. "i can't just be better, i have to be perfect," he states; the only sentiment he and his father agrees on.

"exactly," his father nods, arms crossed, pushing but not encouraging. "know this, yuwol." his father speaks as he approaches, walking a circle around yuwol before stopping right before him. "your worth is tied to the talents and gifts you have. if you don't use them, if you don't live to polish those abilities, where does that leave you?"

it's a rethorical question, yuwol already knows that much. perhaps if he hadn't been raised the way he had, yuwol could refute thsoe statements. however, his father declares only the absolute truth. every complex emotion, large and accumulating—there is no other way to express them than by playing the violin. his entire existence hinges on the stringed instrument he held in his hands, his father never taught him any differently.

perhaps, if yuwol had been of sounder mind, he would come to realize that his father taught him nothing. he could have told his father about his newfound joy of other musical genres. he could finally tell his father how his fingers bleed and how he patches them up himself every night. he could proudly say that he had joined a band recently, and he wants to witness for himself if he can survive without the violin. he could show his father how unless he's on stage, neither of his parents would look at him.

instead, yuwol says nothing. like always, he relies on what has been carved deep into his being—taking a deep breath and playing a melody, whatever complicated sorrow mixing into the tune that he's emitting.

#be:accepted #kim seungmin #stray kids

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hospitalterrorizer · 7 months

Text

diary40

10/17-18/2023

tuesday - wednesday

long day cuz i went out, unexpectedly.

but going out ended up nice, i got free pizza from a nice british tourist woman, her family/group had one piece left and no one was hungry enough for it, and i was staring, and some other guy was looking to get it, and she saw me, and she gave it to me, so thank you woman, very much, for feeding me. otherwise, all i had eaten earlier in the day prior to that was french toast. a little later, just before the pizza, i had two fairly skinny chicken tenders. and to end the night i ate another sort of toast, honey toast, it was really insanely good. not to mention the hanging out was with people i really like being around, so that was nice, my gf, two of her colleagues, and strangely enough a friend i know all the way from highschool who has become involved with one of the colleagues, they're very cute as friends, a casual thing they want to keep, i really like them near eachother, though, i kind of want them to be best friends forever.

the start of the night where we hung out kind of was rough for me though because i was so tired + hungry, it was a rough time sort of, but worth it.

otherwise what did i do today, someone new messaged me on rym and i added them on discord. they seem nice, and like, not immediately combative and weird (one guy added me off rym and i told him i really like powerviolence like charles bronson and stuff, idk, guyana punchline, whatever, i talked about usurp synapse for like 3 blogposts str8 i think you know what i'm into (i say, to myself)) and he was like, saying that was so lame or whatever, and i was like, whatever, and then i said that the blood brothers have a lot to do with 70s punk imo and he started hating even more, it was so ridiculous and pointless.

i do think, truly, and stand by, the thought that the blood brothers walk up to early american punk rock and use some of its ideas, dig up the bones for new bodies, fossils made wrong, excessive shambles, glittering in the night. i would like to be in that vein, playing in the much and making what i please.

i should pick up the gary indiana book, gone tomorrow, again, like tomorrow, that's good, actually, i'm going to the laundromat tomorrow, so that will be so fun!! (lol). hopefully it won't be bad.

thinking about starting a goodreads. but who cares how many books i read. only me. and that's the only opinion that counts, and i can feel it whenever i want.

the opinion is, and always will be: not enough.

listening to this record. quite good noise rock no wave stuff, can't believe i've not heard about this band sorta, there's another song of theirs i heard that i can't seem to find on bc/slsk/ but can on yt, but i'd like to dl it if possible, this song is kinda amazing:

youtube

really recalls fad gadget w/ that synth sound and the white belt stuff i like simultaneously, really cool.

i also worked more on the one song, that's been giving a lot of trouble, i'm looking forward to listening to that tomorrow, and hopefully not being fixated on it, and getting onto the other 2 i need to fix up more, and then maybe there's another 2 that i think might present less difficulty, i really think with one the big thing will just be turning the vol on the right channel guitars down, and then w/ the other it's a combination of that and some stuff with the vocals. i also did realized today that i should just turn dithering off on export and wow, my gosh, it does make things sound a touch better i think. very excited about that, all the music might just end up sounding better now, and if not, it'd be easy to just re-export some songs with the pow-r3 dithering back on again, but that should not be necessary.

god i am sooo tired, so

byebye!!!

#Youtube

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ererokii · 3 years

Text

Line without a Hook || E. Jaeger & J. Kirstein

➳ Jean Kirsten x Fem Reader x Eren Jaeger

Word count: 4,517 Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, cursing ➳ note: this is based off the song Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery! I’ve been thinking this for a long time and I’m super excited by how it came out! Also big thanks to @reddriot for betaing!

➳ Synopsis: is love really worth it? Let me say, it’s not always worth it.

You can hold my hand if no one’s home.

Do you like it when I’m away?

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

It starts out simple really. A boy and a girl. Childhood friends, to be precise. Those two are inseparable. Nothing can tear the friends apart, besides their parents, of course. Like two peas in a pod.

Jean says he knows you like the back of his hand. He truly means that. He knows your favorite boy bands from when you were younger, how many terrible phases you’ve gone through, favorite foods, and places. If he wrote a novel about the things you told him, he would be a renowned author.

Since kindergarten to now, in the middle of your junior year, you and Jean have been side by side. You told him everything. From random vents and gossiping about the rude girls in your class to how horrible your period cramps were— even though Jean hated hearing about the last, he stuck through it for you.

Only you.

The pavement that followed the street your house was on is memorable. Jean can recall the amount of times you’ve had races, chalk scribbles covering the grey that would be washed away by the angry neighbors.

He listens to you as you talk about a kid getting in trouble in your Calculus class, watches how lively your motions are as you speak. Jean can’t help but smile when a laugh slips past your lips and you glance at him. There’s an unknown sparkle in his eyes, one filled with love.

You haven’t changed one bit, he thinks as he faces back forward, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His mind begins to wander as you both continue down the pavement, part of your routine when school ends.

Your houses are right next to each other. You’ve been with him since you were in diapers. He was there when your first tooth came out, congratulating you, and you were there for him when he finally learned to ride his bike with two wheels instead of three.

The bubbly lovable five-year-old back then is the same as you are now.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Oh all my emotions

Feel like explosions when you are around

A sigh of disappointment leaves Jean’s lips when he listens to Connie talk about something he has learned over the weekend (something completely stupid— he just doesn’t care). Currently, the students are at lunch, the cafeteria full with loud shouts and random noises.

“Connie, shut up,” Sasha groans, placing her water bottle on the table, wiping her crumbs off. “No one cares that you finally figured out how to stick a spoon to your nose.”

“What do you mean?! You were the one who showed me!”

The brunette gasps and looks over his way, cream cheeks tinted with an adorable shade of pink, pointing a finger at him. The bickering between the two commence as Jean listens, slightly amused.

As much as he indulges in their argument, he can't help but wonder where you are.

It’s not like you to skip lunch, especially without at least letting him know. Did you stay behind to talk to a friend? A teacher? Maybe you went to the bathroom.

But it’s at least 15 minutes in.

“Sasha,” he speaks up, slicking back his hair. The sound of her name catches her attention, making her look at him. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“Y/N?” she asks in a whisper before her lips curl in a grin, already knowing why he asked. “Do you miss her?”

“Just answer my goddamn question!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Connie asks, looking between his friends before stopping his gaze on Jean. “Why do you need Y/N?”

“Oh, you know! He lik-”

“Shut up!” Jean shouts, catching the attention of nearby students, his face heating up as his cheeks turn a darker pigment. “Just answer me!”

“If you must know,” she taunts him, twirling a strand of hair from her loose ponytail. “I saw her talking to someone in the hallway. Must be important, she’s been there for quite some time. Might want to be her knight in shining armor and saving her, huh?” she cocks her head to the side, staring at one of the windows in the room, watching as the branches of trees sway from the harsh winds.

The atmosphere outside was cold, breezes rushing down on anyone who was not inside. The sun was hidden by the thick grey blankets filled with rainwater, waiting to shower the world. The temperature recently has been dropping, mid 50’s at least. The weather was a shock, to say the least.

“I didn’t know Jean likes her!”

“What do you mean?!” Sasha gasps, turning her body to face her small-minded friend. “It’s only obvious! You must be really stupid then!”

“Well, how could you tell?!”

Before Jean has a chance to interrupt Sasha, she begins to rant. He prefers to stay silent, clasping his hands together in his lap as he lowers his head, finding interest in the marbled tiles of the floor his feet rest on.

The words that slip past Sasha’s lips reach his ear and out the other.

It’s easy to tell, Connie. Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything? Here you guys are, two close friends, I thought you would have known about his crush. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on every time he ditched plans with us to go hang out with her. He’s whipped, and you’re too stupid to know it.

His cheeks turn a shade of pink as his eyes squeeze shut, her words replaying in his head like a broken record player. Each sentence is like a knife stabbing away at his brain, causing the slightest ache to form in his frontal region.

She’s right. Anything she just said five minutes ago, is completely and utterly correct.

He can still hear her talking about it to Connie, but he can only focus on three sentences that stick to him like glue.

Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything?

Memories of him helping you in any possible way come to mind. He can’t recall how many times he has entered class two minutes late because you had so much to carry.

He stares at you like you’re the only thing worth looking at. It reminds him of those cliche animated movies with hearts in the character's eyes. He’s blinded by his love for you, that he never noticed any signs that you don’t feel the same way about him. His heart races miles per hour when you’re around. Sometimes he worries for himself that maybe, his heart might explode within him.

“Anyway, lunch has about 20 minutes left...where is she?” Connie mutters, scratching the top of his head.

“I don’t know, but,” Sasha grows quiet, listening to the ongoing thunder from the outside. The lights flicker for a second, a couple of yelps emitting from other students, slightly afraid that the power might go off while school is in session. “The storm is almost here.”

“Y/N!” Connie suddenly yells, pointing in the direction of the door, your body jogging closer to the table. “Where have you been?!”

“Sorry!” you laugh, out of breath as you drop your things on the bench, taking a seat beside Jean. “I got caught up in a conversation with someone! I guess I lost track of time for a bit.”

“I messaged you like four times,” Jean mutters, glancing over at you before looking at the table, playing with the plastic straw that he used to drink out of.

“You did?” you ask, pulling your phone out from your pocket, lips puckering when indeed he did so. “I’m sorry, Jean. I didn’t even feel my phone vibrate.”

“Oh, whatever, who cares! Eat! Or I’ll eat your food!” Sasha yells, pointing a finger at you, a smile gracing her features.

You laugh along with her as you converse with your peers, the conversation you had replaying in the back of your mind. Jean chooses not to intervene, instead would rather listen.

The roaring thunder plays in the background, everyone paying no mind to it. What he doesn’t know is that the storm is much closer than Jean could have thought.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Listen close, it’s a no

The wind is a pounding on my back

And I found hope in a heart attack

Oh at last, it is past

Now I’ve got it, and you can’t have it

Another evening, another study session, another day of bottling up his feelings until he can no longer hold them inside.

The storm made its way to shore, raining pouring down and even some hail; not what anyone was expecting.

Jean mindlessly flips through the pages of his English book, not even paying attention to the words as he checks how many pages are in chapter five.

“This seems pointless,” he adds with a sigh, tossing the book on your bed along with his highlighter he uses to annotate with. “I should just find a summary online or something, I don’t want to read this.”

“And why is that?” you ask, looking up from your book, placing the hardcover against your thighs. “Is it boring to you?”

“No,” he mutters, rolling onto his back. “It’s stupid. This love crap.”

“Well...it is a romance story, the teacher told us when we got the book. But why do you think it’s dumb?”

“He writes letters for her, and in the end, she ends up rejecting him. I don’t think that’s romantic.”

“And? It’s beautiful on his part,” you close your eyes as you stretch your arms over your head, letting out a grunt. “It’s the fact that he wrote to her every day. It’s like he poured his soul into every word. The words he uses are..literally everything. It makes me swoon over him, and he’s not real. Makes me wonder if someone would do that for me.”

Jean’s head perks up at your words, one of his eyebrows raised in curiosity when he notices the bashful look on your face, eyes averted to the comforter on your bed. “Why do you have that dopey look on your face?”

“Huh?!” your eyes are blown open as you look over at him. “What are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about that, idiot,” he points at your face, watching your eyes cross faintly to stare at his finger. “You’re acting about that guy in the book.”

The patter of the rain is the only noise that fills the void called silence in your room. His warm eyes don’t leave your face at all, waiting for your answer. You’ve been acting weird ever since you were late to lunch this past week.

He watches your mouth open as if you’ll say something but close it right away, like you were concealing anything you had to hide.

“...well? Y/N? Are you there?”

“Yeah!” you cough into your elbow, running a hand down your face. “I-- you can’t tell anyone.”

“You know I never tell anyone what we talk about.”

You’re silent, a bit too quiet than usual. You fiddle with your fingers before blurting the words that have been eating away at you.

Jean’s heart stops for a moment, eyes wide in shock when he processes it. His blood runs cold as he’s unable to move, frozen like a statue. The signals in his brain begged him to respond, but he couldn’t. He could hear the faintest sound of bells ringing in his ears; all noise surrounding him was now drowned out by his thoughts.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

“You like someone?” he asks in a whisper, barely audible to your ears, but you heard as you nod shyly, biting down on your lip. “Well... who is it?”

“That’s...I can’t say it.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I’m afraid to say it out loud because I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him.”

Friendship? That could be anyone at this point.

I have to figure out who, he thinks as he draws random patterns into the sheets. “Well, tell me about him then. Is he in our grade?” he asks.

“Yeah, he is. He’s in four of my classes.”

Jean was in four of your classes. Math, English, Foreign Language, and Science.

“That’s it?”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Can I finish before you interrupt? Thank you.”

You pause momentarily before speaking again.

“He’s stubborn. I’ve noticed that his demeanor changes when it depends on who he is with. He seems like a hardass and looks like he doesn’t want to be bothered, but he seems like a total softie when he’s with people he loves. Not to mention he’s hot...and tall. He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.”

Jean takes every word you say into consideration. He’s stubborn, it seems that he doesn’t like to be around people he doesn’t know but loves those he does know. He knows he’s hot. Practically every day he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks about how good he looks.

He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he really seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.

Jean can feel his doubt and worry turn into happiness and confidence as you keep on ranting, to which he’s not fully paying attention anymore. He knows it's him. It has always been him.

No one else.

Jean likes you.

And you like Jean, that’s all there is to it.

“Do you want to tell him?”

“Yeah...” you trail off, scratching the nape of your neck. “I want to tell him on Friday after school. Do you think he’ll like me back?”

“I think he would. How could he not? He would be a total idiot to reject you.”

You hum at his reassurance, placing your hand on his, squeezing gently.

“Thanks, Jean.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Darling when I’m fast asleep

I've seen this person watching me

Saying, “Is it worth it? Is it worth it?”

Tell me, is it worth it?

Friday comes, and Jean can hardly wait for school to end. He’s not paying attention, his eyes constantly staring from the whiteboard in the front to the clock that tauntingly ticks slower than usual.

He bites down on the pink end of his pencil in anticipation, tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor, the noise resonating through the classroom.

Maybe I should just keep my eyes off the clock, he thinks, lowering his head back to the worksheet their teacher gave the class.

Econ class was a drag. He could care less about the differences in macro and microeconomics, the same with Communism and Capitalism. It’s just a bunch of words that don’t make sense to his brain.

This was one of the classes he didn’t have with you, the last class.

Instead of doing his worksheet (luckily, the teacher said it would be for homework if it wasn’t finished), Jean proceeded to think about ways he could tell you his feelings.

He could be old fashioned, tell you how much he adores you and how happy you make him feel when you’re around. How his heart can be heard from the outside of his body, how his hands got warm and clammy, maybe sweaty when he became too nervous.

He could ask you out on a date. Take you somewhere, one of the places you’ve told him in the past that would make a great date for you. He smiles when he thinks about taking you downtown at night, looking at the soft lights that would brighten the streets; loving the sparkle in your orbs as you look around in awe.

He hums, pleased with himself when he figures out what he’ll do, scratching the back of his ear.

He wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

You glance at your table partner, looking at his piece of paper before looking down at yours, displeased how his is able to look better than yours. You pick up your eraser, gently wiping the shadings away from your drawing, careful not to crease your paper.

“It’s not that hard you know, you just don’t know how to shade.”

“I know how to shade, Eren,” you reply with a huff, placing your eraser back down. “It’s just...this is a bit harder than usual.”

“All you have to do is follow the markings,” he presses the edge of his drawing pencil against the reference photo both of you are using, tracing the shape of it. “You could honestly just copy the photo, I doubt this woman would even notice.”

You chuckle at his choice of words, shifting in your seat to get comfortable. “I don’t think she would anyway. She just stares at it and calls it an A. I bet for our expressive project, she wouldn’t notice if we copied each other.”

He shakes his head with a smile, the loose strands of his hair swaying with his head movement. “No, she wouldn’t,” he rolls the sleeves of his hoodie to his elbows, grabbing his pencil again. “Then again, we are working on it with each other.”

“Speaking of that, what should we do?”

“Up to you, Y/N. I don’t mind. I’m just trying to pass this stupid class anyway.”

You relish in the silence between you as you gaze at him from your peripheral. You take notice how his hair frames his face effortlessly to the dip in his nose. It’s perfect how it forms to his cupid’s bow to his lips; not too big nor too small either. Just right.

You clear your throat, scratching at the nape of your neck. “Why not do...stages of love?”

That catches his interest.

“Stages of love?” he asks, moving in his chair to face you, a hand propping his head up. “Elaborate?”

“Like you know...how we gain a crush on someone. We like how they make us feel, and soon we think about them some more. Maybe make little scenarios in our head. Then we gain the crush and want to be around them. You know what I mean, right?”

He’s silent, hues that represent the blue of rivers, boring into your own. At first, you think he hates your idea, but then the corner of his lips curls into his infamous grin. “Yeah, I like that. Did you have anything else in mind?”

“Maybe...rejection?”

“Rejection?” he repeats, a bit shocked at how romantic your words were, to something filled with sadness. “And why would you want to do rejection?”

“W-Well,” you stutter, unsure how you should put it. “Everyone always talks about the good in love but never the bad. And I think it could be done good, you know?”

He hums, scratching away at his chin before nodding. “Yeah, alright. That sounds oddly specific, but I like it. We can honestly get started soon, that way, we can finish faster and not worry about it.”

His smile throws you for a loop, your face heating up as you pick up your pencil, trying to distract yourself.

“Say, Y/N?”

“Yes, Eren?” you reply a bit too quickly, cursing yourself out internally for sounding too desperate.

“Can we talk?” his cheeks are a shade of pink, his eyes averted as he plays with one of the strings of his hood, reminding you how a child would distract themselves. The tips of his shoe nudge against yours, barely kicking gently.

“Aren’t we talking right now?”

“No, I mean after school.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

And in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer

Watching over me, he’s singing,

Jean storms out of his Econ class with a grin, hands gripping onto the straps of his backpack as he looks down one end of the hallway before going down the other direction. The art room was three classes down his. Usually, Jean will wait right there by the door for you since you take ages to finally leave the classroom.

When Jean finally reaches the room, he sees that the doors are locked, and the lights inside are off.

Huh, that’s weird, you’re always one of the last to leave, nor are you ever this early.

He stands there for a few more seconds, peering in through the small glass, and sees nothing before taking a step back and quickly continues to walk down the hall. His legs are quicker, going down the two flights of stairs.

His eyes frantically search for the yellow shirt you wore, unable to find you anywhere.

“Sasha!” he calls out once he reaches the end of the stairs, running towards the girl and their friend, who was at the lockers, pulling things she needed to take home for the weekend.

The brunette looks over her shoulder, stopping her conversation with Connie as she shuts her locker. “Yeah, Jean?”

He pants, leaning on his knees before letting out a deep breath and standing straight up. “Have you seen Y/N?”

She ponders for a while before shaking her head, looking over at Connie, who shakes his head, shrugging. “We haven’t seen her since Art class.”

“You didn’t see where she went at all?”

The events before class ending play in her mind before she gasps, snapping her fingers, pointing up at Jean. “Yeah, I know where she went!”

“...are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to guess?!”

She mocks him for a second before pulling her phone out. “I could have seen her leave with Eren. I think they went to the bench in the back. You know the one I’m talking about?”

He’s taken aback for a moment before shaking his head, retaining the information. “Alright, thanks.”

Why would you even be with Eren right now? You never meet with him after-

“Are we still on for this weekend?!” Connie yells when Jean is making his way down the corridor.

“Yeah, we are!” Jean's voice travels through the air, reaching both of his friends, hands clammy as they’re shoved in the front pocket of his pants.

The walk to the back courtyard was tiresome. His feet seemed to drag behind him, an aching feeling forming in his gut. Thoughts pounded against his skull repeatedly, trying to force him to stop. He wants to stop, but he has to go.

He has to tell you he loves you.

He can’t help but smile when you describe the boy you like this week. In his mind and most certainly his heart, he was the king of the world sitting on his high horse as he screamed in victory, letting the whole world know that the person he likes, feels the same way about him.

The fresh air from the outside meets his nostrils as he deeply inhales, allowing it to enter his body before exiting. The sun is the first thing he meets with as he exits the building, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes away from the harsh light. He mutters something under his breath as he looks around for a second.

“She’s a,

She’s a lady and I’m just a boy”

His honey orbs finally stop on a bench where you and Eren are seated, that’s not too far away, but his body is hidden from your view. He lets out a sigh of relief, leaves crunching underneath his feet as he walks, not taking long strides, rather walking slow to rethink what he’ll say.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you for a long...no,” he mutters, stopping in his tracks as he looks down at the green grass and leaves, kicking away at them. “I’ve loved- no, that sounds a bit aggressive, goddammit,” he groans, tugging at the roots of his hairs. “Why is this so fucking hard?!” he growls underneath his breath, leaning against the brick wall.

He never was anything else but honest with you. How could he say it?

What if this ruins your relationship?

...what if you liked Eren?

His breath hitches in his throat when realization dawns on him. His lips part, a soft exhale releasing from within him. His fingers curl around nothing, as if he was holding the air’s hand. The tips of his fingers shake, his whole body stiffening as he stares hard at nothing.

How could he be so stupid?

It all made sense now. How you stayed behind during lunch that one time without saying anything; in the back of his mind that day, he knew that someone had to be a boy, maybe a girl. Even then, you would always let him know.

Jean should have known from the beginning that you only saw him as a brother.

His chest aches as his vision goes blurry, biting down on the inside of his lip to the point where he can taste the bitter metallic on his tongue. He squeezes his eyes shut before opening, wishing he hadn’t at that moment.

He’s singing

“She’s a, she’s a lady and I am just a line without a hook.”

His heart breaks, stomach-dropping when he sees Eren’s hand brings you closer to his body, lips pressed up against yours; your hand placed on his cheek, cradling his face. Even from where he stands, he can sense the urgency in the kiss, how your bodies move together as one, how your fingers grip onto him like he’ll leave any moment.

His lower lip quivers for a second, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. Jean cranes his neck upward, looking at the sky, muttering the words, “Why him?” over and over like a mantra, no other words coming to mind.

When he closes his eyes, all he can see is you. Not Eren, just you. Those moments where you laugh, cry, or stay silent, those are the moments that flash in his head.

Did he do something to you? Was it something he said?

Did you ever like him at all?

“It’s pointless,” he whispers, pushing himself off the brick wall, immediately making a beeline for the doors. He swallows harshly, legs moving faster than ever, wanting to get out of this hell hole called reality.

Like every day, you’ll walk down the same pavement you’ve been walking on for years.

Only this time, he’s walking alone.

Oh, and if I could take it all back

I swear that I would pull you from the tide.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

taglist: @sleepysnk @jaegerbomb20 @reddriot @kkiimmberly @kingtamakimurder @tamasoft @byougen @spike-this-ass @crimsonbows-and-arrows @squidonmywall @thicmitten (message me to be apart of it!)

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #attack on titan imagines #shingeki no kyojin imagines #eren imagines #eren jaeger imagines #jean imagines #jean kirstein imagines

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a-froger-epic · 3 years

Text

Interview with a Queen “groupie”

Cross-posted to AO3. I encourage you to leave any comments you have there.

---

I compiled this interview following a long email exchange with J, a very sweet lady who went to Ealing Art School between 1972 and 1974. She knew all four members of Queen personally and was part of their larger circle of friends.

First off, you may find this hard to believe. I don’t blame you. But I assure you I’m not pulling your leg. As well as the pictures I share in this post, I have seen current pictures of J (which I will not share to protect her privacy). There is no indication as far as I am aware that she isn’t who she says she is.

Nastally, hold up. How exactly did you find this lady?

She found me. It turns out that she has been following my story Dawn of Aquarius for quite some time. The story is set in 1969. A lot of research about the era went into it, because I wanted to portray that time period - and Freddie’s and Roger’s surroundings - as accurately and realistically as I possibly could. That was what drew J in. She tells me it brought back a lot of memories for her. One of the reasons I love DoA so much is the nostalgia, she says, which genuinely means the world to me. Eventually, she talked to me in the comment section. Of course, I freaked out!

And then, I asked her for an interview, to which she replied: I will give it a go, but you must remember that I am 65 and there were great drugs in the 70s, and at 16, away from home, I had a lot!

And so...

Here’s what is IMPORTANT TO KEEP IN MIND when you read this interview.

These are one woman’s 50-year-old memories and subjective impressions. J has been incredibly kind to let me pick her brain, trying to recall everything as best as she can. In her own words:

Just remember that when I answer the questions, it is from a 16-year-old who is 9 years younger than Freddie and a little girl with no family and friends in a strange country trying to fit in. The only reason I was there, was because some hippie thought I had a unique art style.

---

J as a teenager.

[I have edited the interview together from our long, and somewhat messy at times, email exchange. Typos have been fixed and some punctuation added for clarity, but I have not changed anything J has written to me. Again, bear in mind these are personal opinions and impressions.]

So, J, how did you end up at Ealing Art School in 1972 and what was it like?

This was the painting done for the Australian school-leaving certificate.

It placed first and gave me a scholarship. I could pick France, the USA or England. As a dual citizen of the UK, the choice was easy. The scholarship paid for board and fees, so had to be and sell whatever for spending money.

This picture is from the dorm. We all had a 10pm curfew and a very thick rule book that, I am proud to say, I broke every one of them, one by one. The rooms were on the 1st and 2nd floor. We were on the first floor, rooms one side and admin staff the other end. We had two bathrooms for 18 girls. One of them had two baths. The walls were your standard half wall, so it was a given that if you had a bath you run the risk of having a bucket of cold water dropped on you. Downstairs was the kitchen and lounge room.

I want to ask you a few things about life in London in the early 70s, to get a picture of what it was really like. For example, was there alcohol at the music gigs you went to?

If it was a school, church or community hall, no. If it was a pub, yes.

Did you and your friends drink as much then as young people tend to drink now when you all went out?

No, we didn't. I think it had a lot to do with money. We didn't have the disposable income, and it was unheard of to still be living at home with the parents after the age of 20.

Was weed and LSD as big and easily accessible as depictions of the 60s and 70s would have us believe?

The drugs! Got to have drugs. Pot (weed) was easy to grow, very cheap. Used to smoke it in bongs rather than joints, more bang for your buck. Trips [LSD] were cheap, I think. About 2 pounds and you were on the high for over 24 hours with no sleep. My drug of choice was hash. Either the oil or the block. It was a nice high, but you could not function well. But if you listen to the music of the time it really does reflect what it was like, to have a group of friends over for a session. Having said all that the most outlandish and shocking drug I ever saw anyone use was the birth control pill. Didn't you have to hide that stuff away?!

Can you tell us some 70s slang that isn’t really in use anymore? What in the world does “ultra-blagging” mean? (As written in a letter penned by Freddie to his friend Celine in 1969.)

Abso-bloody-lootely!

Man, I thought I was the bees knees to be on a scholarship in London. But that didn't stop me from jigging or having a skive day. They were the days that I blagged my way into a pub, had too many lagers and ended up chundering in the gutter. That was how you knew your night was ace. I would get a right bollocking if anyone found out. It would be a bugger when all that you could find at a car boot sale was chavtastic, but sometimes you could be Jammy Dodger and tickety-boo you find something brilliant. Bob's your uncle. Anyways, I need to see a man about a dog.

[It seems to me that J uses a bit of Australian slang here, like chundering, which makes sense because she is, after all, Australian. She also provided the translation:]

Cheers

It would be my honour.

I felt very privileged to be given a scholarship that let me study in England. But being so young and having no family to guide me, it was often tempting to not turn up or give a false excuse for being sick. (I had a lot of food poisoning). These would often happen if the night before I had been drinking beer and ended up vomiting outside the pub. But in my young mind that was a good night. If any of the teachers found me drinking I would be in a lot of trouble. Often I would have to say I was holding it for someone else. Not having much clothes with me, I would buy them second hand from church jumble sales or other students and, yes, Kensington market (the market). Some of the stuff would not be very tasteful or in good condition. But sometimes you would find something that was cheap and in good condition. I will stop this text now as I must go to the toilet.

PS: Ultrablagging sounds very Freddie. Blagging was used, but not ultra, meaning to persuade someone to do something or act better than you are. They were always rock stars.

Sincerely

[It was at this point that I realised I was talking to an absolute legend. She also told me then that the majority of her old photographs had sadly been lost when her house was flooded in 1988, including most of the photographs from her stay in London. Noooo! :(]

When you went out to dance, did you have only live music? Were there DJs yet?

You know, that is hard. We did not have a DJ. Sometimes there would be a band. Often we looked for places with a band or the jukebox. I think pubs closed at 10pm and some stayed open to 12 or 1, but public transport stopped at 9. So if you had not arranged a lift then you had to make the last bus. Most of the time we would be heading back to someone's place to get stoned and then crash there. In the morning you would have to work out where you were. When I got back to Australia, the discos were all the rage. They could have been in London too but it was not cool to like disco.

How many people would show up to Queen’s gigs when they played in pubs or at, for example, the Imperial College?

Depending on the location and the night: 10 to 1000!

So how did you first meet the Queen boys?

I was at the pub talking about a band we saw last week when Brian stuck his head into our booth telling us he knew a better one. Thinking about seeing them at the stall... Roger not often, Freddie quite a lot. Often on different stalls, I think that is why I can't remember the name. [The name of the stall. Other sources confirm that Freddie also worked at Alan Muir’s stall, for example, selling shoes.]

How well did you know them?

Just looking at your tumblr account. [she has had a look at my blog, where somebody asked if ‘groupie’ meant she had slept with the band] No, I never slept with the boys. I would not say I was a close friend, but I started at Ealing Art College in ‘72 and moved in the same circles. I loved the music and could be called one of the first groupies. I had to sneak into the pubs because I was 16. Roger always teased me for being so young. They all did seem to be one very large family, not just the band. It was a group of about twenty regulars, both male and female. Everyone knew that Fred was too gay to function. We were all at the gay rights march in London in 1972, had to run after the march. Lots of sharpies [Australian slang: youth gang, thugs] wanting to bash us. Back then I was in every protest that was going, student union rights, even the secretary protest. Just part of the times, stick it to Man or Woman. I left London in ‘74 for Australia, been here ever since and lost track of the boys but have never stopped being a fan.

What do you remember about them? How would you describe their personalities?

Don’t let the trolls hate me, but I did not like Brian. I found him to be rather full of himself. Space was a subject you never brought up around Brian or you would die of old age before he stopped talking. He was always the first to speak and start a conversation and then quickly passed you off to John, who was always tired and shy. Roger was also quite shy at times. He was very self-conscious of his looks, as he felt being pretty, nobody would take him seriously. Fred, well, he was not yet the big star, so I think he was working on his stage persona. When talking to groups at parties, he had the best stories of things that had happened to him or close friends. They were very funny and very descriptive. He was the life of the party. When he had a few to drink or was the centre of attention, he would take a cigarette out of the closest person’s hand and start smoking. Now remember this is the point of view of a 16-year-old girl that was a fish out of water, trying to fit in and not having much worldly experience.

It is said that Freddie and Roger were very stylish. How did they dress in everyday life?

Fred would do his hair and makeup to check the mail. Yes, he was always turned out, but so were a lot of people. Freddie did go over the top with hats, scarfs and jewellery. With Roger, it is a surprise he was able to have kids his jeans were that tight. And his shirts were always open unless he was in a jumper. I think it could have been so that you knew he was male, as it was the start of the unisex clothing. When I travelled out of London I realised it was a London thing. When I got back to Australia everyone thought I was a show-off.

There are some disagreements about how tall especially Freddie was. I know this is a difficult thing to try and remember accurately. But do you remember?

Freddie was taller than me but everyone was. Roger was shorter than Fred, but I never saw Roger in platform shoes. I did meet up with the band by chance at Sydney airport in 1984, said ‘hello’ but they did not remember me, or if they did then they did not say anything and I did not want to be a dork. At that time Fred was the same height as me (5ft 8in/1.72m), Roger was taller than me. It made me think at the time that he had a growth spurt! John was shorter than me and Brian has always been tall. [I have a feeling the platform shoes - or lack thereof - played a vital role here! Although 172cm for Freddie seems likely.]

You said everyone knew Freddie was “too gay to function”. Attitudes towards homosexuality have changed so much that it can be hard for us, now, to fathom what exactly people must have thought of him. Was it more of a joke that he was so camp? Was it something he would have been teased for? Also, he had a girlfriend. Did you ever meet Mary or the other girlfriends?

In 1972 a whole group of us - and I am pretty sure that Fred, Roger, Brian and Tim were there - were in a gay pride march. [Since then, J has found and showed me a picture of a boy she thought was Tim Staffel, and it wasn't, so Tim was most definitely not there. Whether Freddie, Roger and Brian really were there or if J is misremembering, who knows?] Us youth believed you could not choose who you fell in love with and if it was same sex, so what? However, if it was two girls then it was every guy’s duty to change her!

It was also a time that the gayer the guy was, the more the girls were interested. Also, if a guy was gay then you did not have to worry about him and he was a good person to take with you if you were going out drinking. However, the police, parents, teachers and anyone of authority were horrified and treated them badly. I did meet Mary a couple of times at pubs and once after a gig. This is just my opinion, but I found her a bitch. It could be that I was so young. It could be that I was very Australian. It could be that she felt threatened as my accent was a magnet to people around. And the boys (Queen) were no exception. Brian had a cousin in OZ and was always asking questions. I remember that my close group of friends thought that Mary made the perfect girlfriend for Fred as they were as fake as each other. Having said that about them, I often wonder if I would think the same now and if my perceptions were just because she would not give me the time of Day. Chrissy and Jo were a lot of fun.

This was before your time, but I read that Freddie's nickname at Ealing Art School was ‘Freddie Baby’. Any ideas how this came about? His showmanship or maybe personality traits?

I don't think so. There were an older crowd that would talk like that. I think the slang ‘baby’ was a 60’s thing, like groovy baby.

How long, roughly, did Roger and Freddie have their stall? I can't find anywhere when it closed down. What did it actually look like? Was it a sort of wooden stall type of thing? Or an actual room? What were some of the other things people sold at Kensington Market? Mostly clothes or all sorts?

The markets were little divided shops. The back was brick and the walls wood. I have been trying all day to remember the name. [Of the stall.] I think it was something hard to say. More often than not it would be Freddie's dad in the store. It was still open when I left. Roger and Freddie were both in the store on Saturdays and some Sundays. There was a girl, I think Jill, who was in the store more. And during the week it could be anyone. You name it and you could get it at the markets. Second hand or designer clothes, shoes, jewellery, pot and assortments. Hair cuts, food, bric-a-brac.

Wait, wait. What? Freddie’s dad? Really now?

Yeah, it was an older Indian man. so we just assumed it was his father. It was my understanding that he started the stall then the boys would work it as the whole markets were set up for younger people, but if needed he would work there. I don't think the boys would be able to pay the rent on their own. [I have since found out that the stall closed in late 1971, and Freddie continued to work at the Market until '74, for Alan Mair and possibly others. So the stall J witnessed wasn't their original stall - explaining all the different people she saw there - but she had no way of knowing that it wasn't.] They always had incense burning that was very big in the 70s. I still occasionally bring out the sticks, but it does not last like the candles and diffusers of today. If you could get in touch with Robert Daniels, he ran ChaChaDumDum it was the stall across from Freddie. He would know the dates.

[J says it’s this look, in a picture she happened across while looking at my tumblr] Yep, that is the one. It usually means that he does not believe or agree with something that was said and is working out how to respond, or he has lost the plot.

You mentioned Roger seemed shy to you at times. Was he also quite charming? We read a lot about what a chick magnet he was. Was this the impression you had?

My favorite subject! I had a thing for Roger. Everyone has a type and mine is the blue-eyed blond. Now, before you ask, was he brunet? No, he was a mouse/dirty blond. If it was summer he would have blond streaks mostly at the ends. He knew he was pretty and was always dressed in the latest fashion and had the current hairstyle. So, being my type I was constantly watching him. Everyone slept around during that time. I did not notice Roger doing it more or less. 80% of the time he was with Jo. Yes, he was a chick magnet, but he did not do the chasing. He was always very polite to everyone. If it ever looked like there would be any conflict he would be the first to leave it. It was not that he was a coward, just not into conflict. If he saw anyone that needed help he was right there, and often had to have Freddie's back. I never saw him in a fight. He could always talk his way out of things. He was also very patient and would listen for hours to other people talk. However, he would get this vacant look in his eyes at times.

And Freddie would either click his fingers, change the subject or just give up. I don’t think that Brian noticed, and it would be fair game for John, he would see how far he could push it. Roger liked to drink a fair bit and when drunk he would be hanging all over Jo. If she was not there then he missed Jo. If, however, he thought that he or his friends were not being respected, then look out! It was a verbal volcano heading your way. That is what happened to me one time. I was trying to talk with my friends close to where a drunken Roger was and I yelled at him to shut the hell up, you wannabe blond. We/I coped a mouthful back, all in the same sentence, that finished with: Sorry, I didn't realise you were on your rags (period)! I have to have the last word, so I told him the truth: I don’t get them yet! (I was a late starter.) He went so red in the face and called me JB [jail bait] from then.

You also mentioned Roger’s cat Ziggy having kittens. I read about this but never when exactly it was. Do you remember?

I think it was winter ‘73. I remember being cold when he was asking around the pub. [To find homes for the kittens, I gather.]

Is it quite strange reading fictional interpretations of real people you knew? When did you first find out there was Queen fanfic?

No, we used to make up stories about people all the time, a verbal fanfic. Was looking up Adam Lambert and came across the fanfics. Some had me in stitches! Others, like DoA, had me hooked.

Please, allow me to be a little self-indulgent at the end. What's one thing I got totally RIGHT in DoA?

All the Ibex stuff.

What's one thing I got totally WRONG in DoA?

Roger did not have a temper, and I don’t know what the go with his father was, but he would talk about him quite a bit and was always visiting his mum. [Absolutely fair, not only did I change the timeline of Roger’s parents divorce in DoA - for lack of information at the time - but also created a completely fictional narrative around it for the sake of storytelling.]

J, thank you so much for all this, sincerely. Can you tell me a little more about yourself? Are you still an artist?

I don't paint or draw any more. At the age of a 50 the doctors operated on an aneurysm or three, and now my eyesight is very bad, I have no fine motor skills and a tremor. I was married in January 1984 and have just celebrated our 37 year anniversary. I have one daughter who is 30 and two great, although tiring grandkids. A girl, 11, and one boy, 5. I have lived my life as the average middle class Australian with great memories. Talking with you has helped me a lot to remember a time when the world was mine for the taking. When I returned to OZ I started nursing, met my best friend, and we planned that once we graduated we would go back to London to study midwifery. But I fell in love instead.

J's wedding in 1984. As you can see, she found her own blue-eyed blond.

---

Upon request, J has shared some of her past and present artwork with me.

These are from her time at Ealing Art School:

These were done later, back in Australia:

J: Did this just before Christmas as you had inspired me. It did not require fine motor skills!

So there you have it! I hope you found this little glimpse through a 16-year-old girl’s eyes as much of a fascinating read as I did. I urge everybody one more time to remember that J did not have to share any of this, and I think we all owe her a big thank you for delving into her memories. She is likely to see the responses on AO3, so I have comment moderation enabled there as I will not let anybody harass this lovely lady. The tumblr she created is @since72, but she isn’t really an active user and also very new to it all. Again, I can only urge everybody to be respectful.

If you have other burning question for J, feel free to leave them in the comments on AO3. I will either pass them on, or she may want to reply to them herself directly.

#Queen band #Freddie Mercury #Roger Taylor #John Deacon #Brian May #interview #i am so excited about this #so much into #information #JB

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askmerriauthor · 3 years

Text

Star Wars: Visions thoughts and discussion

Been on a bit of a Star Wars binge lately. Getting ready for the Book of Fett and the return of The Mandalorian soon, just finished playing the Jedi: Fallen Order game, and recently "Star Wars: Visions" dropped on Disney+ (not to be confused with the, like, half-dozen other Star Wars properties that use "Visions" as their title). If you've got the streaming service and haven't watched the series yet, I can honestly suggest you should do so. The whole thing is a series of very short episodes and is entirely non-canon to the setting, so you don't even need a hard understanding of Star Wars to enjoy it.

In fact, it's actually better if you don't know anything about Star Wars going in. Spoilers and brief episode discussion after the jump.

Episode 1: The Duel As soon as I saw a lightsaber umbrella and a R2 droid in a hat, I knew this one was going to be a must-watch.

I REPEAT. LIGHTSABER. UMBRELLA.

Solid kick-off for the short series. Dig the aesthetic, dig the classic samurai vibe (even if it's more of an homage than a direct application of the style), dig the simple story. The particular animation style they chose here was a little wonky but I quickly got used to the visuals and loved a bunch of the design choices too much to care. This one was very action/style-focused and clearly chosen as the leading episode for that reason, which I don't fault them at all for.

Episode 2: Tatooine Rhapsody I'm sorry, I don't recall giving Star Wars permission to be this fucking adorable, how dare you.

The tale of a Padawan survivor of Order 66 who makes a new life for himself not with the power of the Force, but with the power of Rock and Roll and Friendship. Bitchin'. Super adorable, semi-chibi art style that's honestly ringing, like, a dozen different bells in my head for trying to figure out all the different styles it's drawing from. Good fun, if a bit bland in the end. The biggest problem is the music. The story relies on "using music to save the day", which is fine. But when you use that trope you need an absolutely face-melting banger of a performance, which this just doesn't have. An enjoyable entry all the same though. Not bad, not great, cute designs; the quirky story of how Jabba the Hutt got a new slave band to play at his den.

Episode 3: The Twins This entire episode is animated by the team who brought us Kill la Kill and that should really tell you everything you need to know.

You know how if you get a bunch of little kids together, they'll start playing make-believe games where they just invent stories and plot twists and super powers like "I have whatever you can do, but infinity plus 1 better!" shit like that? That's what this short is. It has only the vaguest allusions to the setting proper and immediately hurls every semblance of consistency, logic, and sense out the window with both hands. It is 1,000,000% style over substance.

Okay, y'know what, no, that's not enough to describe the utter insanity this episode is. All I can find online is pictures of the main villain character pulling a General Grievous impression or the protag snaring lightsaber whips on his lightsaber, but that is fucking tiddlywinks compared to where this episode goes.

There is a scene in this short where the protag, who is ghost-riding the hood of his X-Wing upside down in space without a space suit, super-charges his lightsaber into a giant rainbow of FUCK YOU GEORGE LUCAS with the power of familial love and fabulousness, using said rainbow super saber to CUT AN ENTIRE STAR DESTROYER IN HALF WHILE ACCELERATING TO HYPERSPEED, all to save his twin sister's life by making her explode in a somehow non-harmful manner.

This short is utterly nonsensical drivel and yes I would like more right the fuck now, please and thank you.

Episode 4: The Village Bride Wait, we're actually trying to tell a reasonable story in this series? Sorry, I was still on a sugar high from the previous episode. Lemme sit down.

The Village Bride is great. Excellent short that's just dripping with atmosphere and a slow, purposeful pace to its writing. It's short and sweet with little focus on the Force-using characters themselves, which actually serves to its credit. Even in the Star Wars universe, the Ainu people can't catch a fucking break. Easily one of my favorites in the whole run.

Episode 5: The Ninth Jedi The fact that two characters in this short have Sasuke's haircut was extremely distracting. But I actually really enjoyed this entry overall.

Despite playing extremely loose with the established lore around how lightsabers work, this episode over all others really embraces the original setting and tells a slow-burn story about the potential revival of the Jedi Order. A little meandering at times, but it's a solid piece and well worth exploring. Of all the shorts in the series, this one has the greatest potential to actually continue on as a standalone series or be folded into the canon franchise. Main protag is an adorable bean and I love her.

Episode 6: T0-B1 This episode is simultaneously a love letter to Astro Boy and a giant middle finger to Star Wars lore purists.

The tale of an imaginative Droid named T0-B1 who dreams of becoming a hero like the Jedi he's heard so many stories of. This short gets extra credit for being so unyieldingly stylish and charming. On the surface of its presentation and story choices it seems like it doesn't know anything about Star Wars lore, but it's actually packed full of some pretty deep cuts that show the folk behind it do know what they're talking about and just don't fucking care what purists have to say. The entire thing is just "Yeah, I'm ignoring your lore, but I'm doing it in a fun way that makes the setting more interesting, and I'm so genuine about it that you can't be mad at me". I can respect that. Plus the old dude in that screenshot is an armless Jedi who's retired to be a botanist and that's just fucking cool.

Episode 7: The Elder I'm Episode 1, but better.

This one. This shit right here. This is the good shit.

I'm sure y'all have heard before that Star Wars is directly inspired by Kurosawa and samurai films in general, but The Elder really digs into that hard. Where Episode 1 styles itself after a samurai tale, Episode 7 is a samurai tale. Subdued, methodical storytelling, slow-burn pace, charming dialogue amid believable characters, and a truly intimidating villain who provokes a brief but striking duel. This is my vibe. I crave more of this. Far and away the best short of the entire series.

Episode 8: Lop and Ocho Oh for fuck's sake, there's going to be so much porn of this bunny girl character, isn't there?

This entry is another that kind of meanders with the story it's trying to tell and plays very loose with the lore. It reimagines a lot of what we know of the Jedi/The Rebels and Sith/The Empire into a feudal faction-based conflict akin to what you'd see in a period samurai drama. Modernization and callous industry crushing the spirit of the people and breaking apart families. A decent work overall, but nothing really all that impressive in the end. It takes too long to get going and then peters out halfway through its pay-off for some reason.

Episode 9: Akakiri The fact that I had to look up this episode's name and scenes online and still could not remember anything about it should tell you a lot.

The series ends on a downer with the dramatic tale of a fallen Jedi who sacrifices himself and succumbs to the Dark Side. Turning evil for... the greater good? Wha? Had some pretty neat visuals, but I genuinely cannot remember a damn thing about this episode or its characters. Big swing and a miss in terms of impact.

#star wars #star wars visions #sw visions #animation #anime #spoilers

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crybabysunflower · 4 years

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The song which reminds me of a Mystic Messenger character

Introduction

I have chosen this song based on how I have perceived this certain character from the otome game. I have chosen this song because the lyrics reminded me of him every time I listened to the song.

The character I have chosen for my blog is Kim Yoosung and the song which reminds me of him is Zombie by the South Korean punk pop band Day6 from their 2020 album, The Book of Us: The Demon

Before I write this blog I would give a trigger warning because it may have mentions of having suicidal thoughts so please read at your own risk.

The Lyrics

"What kind of day was yesterday

Was there anything special

I'm trying to remember

But nothing comes to my mind"

The lyrics above represents hopelessness and pessimism, the lyrics describes how the singer can't recall anything remotely positive happened to him on the previous day, he has been so used to the misery he has been dealing with. This reminds me of how Rika's "death" had severely affected Yoosung's life to the point that his life had come to a standstill, after that incident he had been waking up to face the same monotonous, miserable days which repeats over and over. He did not experience anything positive enough to affect him since the loss of his beloved cousin.

"Today goes by the same

Am I the only one struggling

How do I get through this

Would things get better

If I cry my heart out"

The first line of the lyrics again brings back our focus to the monotonous nature of the singer's life, just like the singer Yoosung too leads a monotonous, colourless life. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, Yoosung feels that he is the only one who is still not over grieving over his cousin since the other RFA members in his perception are seemingly doing well and are succesful in their careers while he is stuck in the past and wasting away his life. He is desperate to get over the never ending pain he had been feeling since the tragic incident due to which he finds comfort in playing video games which helps him to drown his sorrows but unfortunately it turns into a serious addiction and it actually does more harm to him than doing good. The last two lines also depicts the singer's strong desire to get over the heartache and thus he wonders if crying out loud would make his agony subside. This reminds me of how just like the singer Yoosung too had desired to cry out his pain several times, but he knows that it is futile since the rest of his friends are eventually going to invalidate his feelings in some way or the other.

"Yeah we live a life

Just running in circles day and night

Yeah we live a life

Though I try to change something

I cant seem to do anything

And I have got nothing left with me"

As the lyrics mentioned above Yoosung lives a life where he is just running in circles, he wakes up, goes to school (and can't pay attention to his lessons), comes back home, plays video games for the entire remaining day, and the cycle repeats. However he tries his best to change his situation, he joins various clubs in his school, the stitching club, the barista club and many more but, he quickly ends up losing interest in them and quitting them since they barely help him to cope up with his crippling depression. Just like the lyrics mentioned above, he found nothing to permanently get rid of his heartache. The last line reminds me of the void his cousin and role model Rika had left. After Rika's absence, there was no one for him to look up to, there was no one whom he would love to impress by performing well and finally there was no one to give him the type of emotional closure which he desperately craves for.

"I feel like I became a Zombie

With an empty heart and empty head

A scarecrow without a brain inside

Since when did I end up like this oh why"

Zombie is a person's corpse which continues to haunt the earth even after the actual demise of the person. Just like a zombie, Yoosung had been dead inside. He isn't living up to his fullest like he used to under Rika's guidance before, he is just surviving for the sake of it. A scarecrow is a term which is also used for describing a person in ragged clothes. Usually a person in ragged clothes is either not able to take care of themself and/or is not bothered about taking care of themself. In Yoosung's case, its both. He plays video games most of the time barely letting himself get a wink of sleep, he also does not give himself proper meals on time and happens to survive on convenient store foods and this is all because of his crippling depression which makes him hardly care about his own well being. Since he had been dealing with depression for quite a while and it has been a pretty long time since Rika's "demise" he can't recall for how long he had been persistently melancholic.

"I became a Zombie

I walk on drifting aimlessly

Tomorrow will be no different

I live counting the time

Till I close my eyes"

Initially Yoosung aimed to be a vet due to Rika's influence for which he worked hard to earn the top position in his class during his highschool years and he even joined one of the reknowned universities in the country with full scholarship, until the sudden disappearance of his cousin from his life. After her absence he had lost all of his sense of direction and aim in his life, he was no longer motivated to do well enough to accomplish his dreams. He had stopped expecting anything different would happen to him on the next day and is waiting for everything to end. The last lines reminds me of him in the Another Story routes. There it was very obvious that he had extremely dark thoughts where he wished to put and end to his sufferings (and thats why Zen kept him under his watchful eye to prevent the younger man from doing anything dangerous).

"Yeah we live a life

Eyes wide open in the dark

This meaningless life

Though I want to just let go

Though I want to just dream on

There is nothing I can do anymore"

The line "eyes wide open in the dark" can be used in the situation both literally and metaphorically at the same time. In the literal sense it reminds me of Yoosung's messed up sleep schedule where he barely sleeps at night. In the metaphorical sense it depicts that he can't see anything ahead of himself, except darkness, his eyes are wide open to see any possible beam of hope which he could not find at that moment. His future plans are luxury for him. When he sees the other RFA members, such as Jumin, Jaehee and Zen who are successful he desires to become as succesful as them. But whenever he dreams, he has this persistent thought that he will never be as successful as them, no matter whatever he does. That tragic incident had not only left him with crippling depression but also had shattered his self esteem.

"Get it all out, wanna cry

Let go of everything

Can I cry

Give me back my tears, they have run dry"

The lines above again depicts the desparate need to get over the crippling depression which is consuming the singer like a black hole. From the previous descriptions here, it is clear that in a similar fashion, Yoosung too is desparate to get over his sufferings. This reminds me of that one time when he told that he wants to cry so hard that he would blank out. He had already cried several times while grieving over Rika, yet he isn't satisfied.

Miscellaneous

I had also made a fanart on Yoosung based on this song because I was heavily inspired by the illustrated music videos I have seen of this song

Conclusion

I had been planning to make a lyric blog which would be related to a Mystic Messenger character. I am sorry that this took a very long time to come out. The only alibi I have to justify why I took so much of time is that, I was extremely nervous about it, I wanted to write a very good blog but I was not feeling confident enough about my project and hence I was extremely nervous about writing this blog. I an very glad for having instagram user @emilytheredone help me write this blog, she helped me to ease my nervousness over writing this blog. I am very thankful to her. Therefore, please let me know if this blog has turned out to be good.

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goodbysunball · 3 years

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Bring it on home

Comparatively easy listening from the set of records showcased this time around, but there's a world of grief settin' your jaw to grind. You deserve a neck massage and a cocktail; lean into these after you put your misery rectangle aside for a spell.

Astute Palate, s/t (Petty Bunco)

Emily Robb, David Nance, Daniel Provenzano, and Richie Charles got together and hammered out this LP during "48 sleepless hours" in Philadelphia. It's definitely a fairly rough documentation, but if you know the players, that's generally what you'd be gettin' into with 'em anyway. Gotta admit that I'm not a huge fan of what I've heard by David Nance - respect his hustle, though - and the same goes for the tracks he leads here; in particular, the studied classic rock caterwaul employed on "Stall Out" basically rolls my eyes for me. I am, however, fond of David Nance the Guitarist and his heroics on "Stall Out," and "A Little Proof" definitely has me more curious about his recent solo work I've skipped. These are pithy grievances, though: the album rules, as a whole, but it's just hard to stomach some of Nance's lyrics when they're side-by-side with bonafide jammers like "Bring It On Home" and "Treadin' Schuylkill." "Bring It On Home," in particular, with its Velvets-inspired chug and Robb's bleary vocals coolly beckoning you to do as the title says, heats to a boil with the blustery, fried guitar interplay. For me it wipes the floor with anything else on the album, and pretty much anything else I'll hear this year, so let's put all my petty complaints aside and declare this the Summer of Astute Palate, OK? Looks like the secret's out - the LP's sold out from the source, but can be found hiding in various distros and shops. Hunt it down, crack a tallboy, and embrace the sweltering heat of our melting planet with Astute Palate.

Maraudeur, Puissance 4 (self-released)

New and best LP yet from Leipzig's Maraudeur, self-released with some of the best packaging/artwork I've seen in a minute. My memory's usually a bit faulty, but I recall the band being a three-piece on their last, still very good LP from Bruit Direct Disques. I'm inclined to think that the group's ranks have swelled to five anyway, since the sound here is a bit more bright and full, lots of different moving parts zipping and moving around, giving the crisp recording some effervescence. Compared to older songs like "Computer Dreams," Maraudeur sounds sharper, capable of backing up any threats rather than coming across as deflated and listless. Even the slower songs on Puissance 4, such as "Slow Dress," thrive on tension, guitar strings set to snap amidst the robotic/hypnotic vocals. The band seems to have located a sweet spot between the simmering minimalism of Household and the technologically damaged vision of Chrome, and "TWYWYS" basically sounds like a collaboration between the two groups. Guitars are used as window dressing, favoring instead synths and showcasing the chops of the rhythm section. "Face/Figure" and my favorite track "C'est Caché" are the best examples of Maraudeur's rhythmic foundation, but nearly every track causes inadvertent head bobbing. While accessible and familiar on the surface, Maraudeur's dry humor, the carefully camouflaged layers of sound, and whatever is going on in "I Am Here" keep boilerplate post-punk comparisons at bay. Puissance 4 is a refreshing, addictive brew from the not-too distant future, and probably a blast to experience live.

Astrid Øster Mortensen, Gro Mig En Blomst (Förlag För Fri Musik)

New Gothenburg talent alert! Mortensen is apparently a newcomer to the scene, and her debut LP fits in nicely amongst the Förlag För Fri Musik discography. Gro Mig En Blomst features lonely and debased late-night solo explorations with guitar, piano and what sounds like an accordion, accented by electronic manipulations and the found sound that accompanies most FFFM records. It's dreary and stark, and can quickly bring the mood down when it's on. For me the most obvious reference point is Grouper's Ruins, in that both are recordings so intimate that it feels like an interruption to move while it's on. But I also get bits of Picastro's Whore Luck ("Hvor Kommer Mørket Fra?" sounds like it was plucked directly from that album), and there are similarities to Chloe Alison Escott's solo work, on the title track and "Piano i" and "Piano ii." Gro Mig En Blomst is a far cry from more traditional singer-songwriter music, dabbling in Stars of the Lid-like drone on "Brud ii" and jumping into the "Is there a record on or...?" genre on "Solen Er Et Lille Hus" and "Brud i." I can't say I go out looking for records this fragile and surface-level bleak anymore, but Mortensen's work is more often beautiful and calming than hopelessly gray. Another keeper from FFFM, sure to be one of the most sought-after records from the label, and for good reason.

Nightshift, Zöe (Trouble In Mind)

Travel back in time with me, if you will, to a time when "indie rock" was a genre label that had some meaning. After getting rid of the bad taste in my mouth and shaking off the embarrassment at who I was when I largely listened to stuff that'd broadly fall under that label, I'll allow that Nightshift is making a strong argument for some of the music released during the comparative naiveté of the late '00s/early '10s. Across Zöe, you get shades of Broadcast, Lower Dens' Twin-Hand Movement, the UV Race ("Spray Paint the Bridge"), Belle & Sebastian and A Sunny Day In Glasgow ("Power Cut" and "Romantic Mud"). The trick to Zöe is that it folds all these reference points in neatly and places it on a sturdy percussive base. I won't argue that every song here is memorable, but they're all enjoyable, and the songs that hit - "Outta Space," the title track, "Infinity Winner" - send chills down my spine every time. Guitars are plucked and scraped for leading beats, accentuating shuffling drums and giving the bass the spotlight. The vocals are dreamy and lyrics direct, and for the duration of Zöe you're relieved of the pessimistic present and allowed to rigidly dance to Nightshift's hesitant groove. They've charmed their way through my cynicism, and Zöe's been on heavy rotation despite my reluctance. Take it for a spin, and fall under Nightshift's spell.

Hugo Randulv, Radio Arktis: Samlade Ljud Från Den Norra Polcirkeln (Förlag För Fri Musik)

First solo LP from Hugo Randulv, an active presence in the Gothenburg scene with his involvement in Enhet För Fri Musik, Skiftande Enheter and Amateur Hour, among others. Though typically a guitarist, on Radio Arktis, he drops the guitar and instead fills both sides with glacial synths and dusty samples. The label's original write-up for this record called it "grand ambient," though to me it sounds and feels much more personal than something that would soundtrack the Olympics. His use of samples, most notably on "Radio Reykjavik," sounds intimately tied with some fleeting memory, the music serving to enhance or exorcise the feeling tied to it all. It reminds me most of the Fun Years' "God Was Like, No" in that both records used the tools common to ambient/drone music but applied a much more personal touch, that certain nameless attribute that keeps drawing a listener back in. Can't put my finger on it, but both records just sound like they had to be made, rather than serving as a genre exercise or one-off exploration. I don't know that Radio Arktis is going to change anyone's life, but it could, and I've been hypnotized by its wordless, sparkling gray tones for weeks. Even though the "solo musician embraces synths" thing is usually pretty tired and pointless, Hugo Randulv's contribution shows why it's an alluring proposition at all.

Sunhiilow, Beyond the Cycle (Ikuisuus)

More solo synth, this time coming from Valerie Magisson and her Moog Mother-32. Magisson's Sunhiilow project veers into new age/ambient with its bite-sized kosmische explorations. There's something about the combination of the short length of these tracks and the sense of movement present within each that allows Beyond the Cycle to transcend the lifeless drivel that's usually tagged "new age" and "synth." It seems intentional that Magisson was trying to capture the mood of each track title in its corresponding music, and she is largely successful, though its unclear if the title provided direction or was applied afterward. The somewhat jarring introduction of "Wilderness Bloom" and the stoned growth of "Circle Motion" are my top picks, but the album works best as a whole and played very loudly, the overall effect immersing the listener into heady zones traversed by the Nightcrawlers. Leave it to Ikuisuus to release an "ethereal ambient music" record that satisfies, and sounds and looks great to boot. Sunhiilow's a lot more tame than most of what Ikuisuus releases, but it's an accessible, recommended starting point to one of the best active labels. HOWDY.

#Astute Palate #Maraudeur #Astrid Øster Mortensen #Hugo Randulv #Nightshift #Sunhiilow #Petty Bunco #Förlag För Fri Musik #Ikuisuus

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itsbenedict · 3 years

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Two-Faced Jewel: Session 3

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Saelhen and Looseleaf, having acquired a band of allies to keep them safe on their entirely bogus quest to fulfill "Lady Noeru's" succession rite on behalf of the college, set out on Suika Highway towards the jungles of Thunderbrush. On the road, they face two extremely deadly combat encounters.

After checking in on the writhing hellpit they opened in Yoshimimoto Plaza (it's under control, they threw some nets over it), the party heads out onto the highway. Customs by the overland roads couldn't give less of a damn what they're bringing out of the city, so there's no scrutiny and they're well on their way.

A good thirty miles or so into the grassland, and the party has to make a perception check. Looseleaf is the one to nail it- her antennae pick up on a suspicious rustling in the tall grass by the side of the road. And even those with slightly worse rolls notice...

There's a green dragon circling lazily in the sky above them. This is bad, because dragons are... well, chromatic dragons like this green one are malevolent and extremely deadly giant monsters, is the main reason, but the other reason is that dragons are... cursed, is what the common understanding is.

To speak with a dragon is to be condemned to some sort of great misfortune, brought about by your own hand. You know the Simurgh from Worm? Listen to its song for too long, and you become sort of a sleeper agent of self-destructive carnage? It's like a diet version of that. Whatever path your conversation with the dragon puts you on, it's invariably bad for you, somehow. The metallic dragons, who're ostensibly "good", will still ruin your life in some way just by talking to you, even if your immolation does some good for the world on the way out. Nobody wants to talk to a dragon.

Luckily, they don't have to- this one seems content to circle way up in the sky, not saying a word to them. Instead, they just get attacked by a direwolf and several horrible monsters.

The whole party botches their Arcana rolls to determine what the heck these things are.

Benedict I. (GM): None of you have any idea what these things are. They're small, roughly humanoid, and... they look sort of like they're made of mud and tangled grass. They're wielding knives, some multiple knives to a hand, and they look vaguely ethereal, not quite real- possibly animated by something. The dire wolf is, of course, charging you- and the other monsters are following suit. They screech and hiss with obvious hostile intent. Roll initiative!

The party dismounts from their giraffes, since they're not trained for combat and the party isn't trained in mounted combat.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Ruffians," she mutters, with the approximate tone a non-elf might use to say "fuckers."

The party's two new melee combatants take up position in the front, while Vayen... stands behind the giraffes, doing nothing. The direwolf lunges, closes in, and... misses entirely, as Oyobi dodges gracefully out of the way. Razzafrazzin' elves...

Then it's Orluthe's turn, and he...

Benedict I. (GM): Orluthe looks around nervously- not at the wolves, but at the party. "Don't... tell anyone about this," he says, and pulls something from his pack. It's a warball helmet. Custom-forged. Looseleaf: Uh. Okay? Is what Looseleaf thinks, in response to this. Benedict I. (GM): I... don't think either of you two would have the context to know what this means, but Oyobi's jaw is on the floor. Looseleaf:Didn't realize that playing warball was apparently something to be ashamed of! Saelhen du Fishercrown: "Your weird secret is safe with me," whispers Saelhen, in the bushes. Benedict I. (GM): Orluthe dons the helmet, and as he does so, he seems to grow larger. There's a shift in his stance, and you hear a growl from beneath the helmet. He howls- and Zero, you're in control of his combat actions here. So what's he do?

Hm.

Orluthe(?) goes ahead and attacks with his halberd, and- being a paladin- opts to SMITE. He impales the thing and burns its wound with divine magic for more than half its health- and then Oyobi's turn comes up and she slices the thing open with her longsword. The party's choice of allies specialized in melee fight seems to be paying off!

Of course, now the other monsters get to take their turn, being unfortunately still alive. One charges at Orluthe and whiffs, but the other... uses some sort of crude slingshot, and hurls some sort of crackling ball of energy at Looseleaf.

Benedict I. (GM): Being hit by this thing suddenly makes you seize up. You remember... Looseleaf, tell me about a time you wanted some physical object very very badly, but didn't get it. Something it hurt you to not have. Looseleaf: Once, when Looseleaf was young, there was a traveling caravan that brought into town a collection of what looked like books for sale. Looseleaf being herself, she of course wanted to buy some of them- but nobody in town would let her go near the vendor! Something about 'inappropriate for young childrens' eyes' and 'mature content warnings'. To this day she's still more than a bit resentful of that, and also she has no idea that the traveling caravan vendor was actually selling basically porn mags. Her memories are interspliced with imaginary counterfactual ideas of what might have been in those books, which are almost certainly not at all what the books actually contained. Benedict I. (GM):You remember that incident, vividly. All that emotional pain, compressed into a single instant of agonizing desire. It leaves you momentarily short of breath, and you take three psychic damage.

Looseleaf attempts to retaliate, but scores, um... a critical failure.

Luckily, that's the last thing these monsters have go right for them- the next few turns are a barrage of successful attacks and AoOs from the party's heavy hitters. Orluthe cuts one in half, provoking a disturbingly human-sounding ghostly wail as it dies. Saelhen throws a dagger from her hiding place in the grass, and...

Benedict I. (GM): Nice! The second dagger takes off this thing's head. It hits the ground with a squelch, and there's another human cry of agony. farnham: "HAH," goes what must be a very large and triumphant and majestic bird in the brush.

As soon as the combat is over, Orluthe returns to normal, and the dragon circling overhead... just flies away, apparently losing interest. Wonder what that's about.

Looseleaf attempts to Soul Read the corpses to learn more about why they were attacked, but unfortunately... the wolf corpse doesn't remember anything unusual that stood out to the spirits of its decaying body parts, and the spirits of the mud and grass left behind by the other monsters only recall being uprooted from the ground and forced to attack people- the spirits animating them seem to be gone.

They are able to figure out what those things were, though- they were Greed Echoes- some sort of evil spirits that echo strong emotions they encountered, and form homunculus bodies with which to act on those emotions. Greed Echoes like these were probably leftover from highwaymen and bandits who've attacked travelers on this road before- playing out their ugliest intentions.

It's weird, though- these are the grasslands, not the mountains. Monsters like these tend to come up out from below mountains, so it's not too common to see so many of them this far from where they spawn.

Moving on, the party reaches a point where the wild grasses suddenly stop, replaced by a uniform tall green grass- corn, apparently. Cornfields mean farmers, and farmers mean civilization.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: "How delightfully rustic." Benedict I. (GM): It's not much longer before you see buildings down the road- it looks like the center of a farming village. There's a sign, as you enter the town- "WELCOME TO CORN". Saelhen du Fishercrown: "...how rustic."

They roll into town and notice not much of interest- it's a pretty standard farming village, with a Temple of Diamode (the hypertraditionalist family-values goddess Orluthe claims to be a cleric of), an inn (apparently very busy, with a lot of people going between it and the temple), and a branch of the Deathseekers' Guild (the adventurers' guild, which is very up-front about how dangerous it is to fight monsters as a career).

Orluthe looks a little nervous around the temple, so they head first to the inn. They enter, and they're immediately met with a riot of colors. The inn is packed with halflings in fancy outfits. Not like, rich people fancy, but down-home farmer fancy. Lots of flower patterns and the like. There's a band playing music in the back, and a bunch of halflings dancing while others chug whiskey and hoot and holler. The human innkeeper is struggling to keep up with all the mugs that need washing.

Discounts are in the cards, though- the bearded guy with the whiskey steins is happy to see out-of-towners joining the celebrations- a very proud father, he is, as his son Merrick was just married. This is the wedding reception, and in his mind, the more the merrier.

He puts forth something of a challenge: his son claims that city folk can't dance, see, and he, a dissenting opinion, wants to demonstrate otherwise. So, if the party can defeat his son and daughter-in-law in a dance-off... he'll pay for the night's stay!

How does a dance-fight work? Exactly the same as a normal combat, except the hit points are made up and the actual stats don't matter. You substitute your performance modifier on your rolls! Maybe you have a battleaxe, so you roll to attack with your battleaxe, and what that really means is you're doing a wild swinging dance move that really wows the crowd.

Enemies, meanwhile, know different "dance styles", inspired by CR-appropriate monsters I picked out of the monster manual to non-literally fight in a nonlethal dance battle. The happy couple are a pair of Duergar warriors, squaring off against the party's two squishies.

youtube

(3:06)

The combat is- well, there's not much to it, just a bunch of back-and-forth attack rolls, ultimately decided by clever use of flanking and attacks of opportunity. Looseleaf tries her best, but her Performance modifier isn't nearly as high as Saelhen's, as she's not the daughter of Kanzentokai's Dance Emperor. She does do a cool thing where she leaps into the air and does a wing-assisted pirouette thing, but all that accomplishes is taking her out of the fight for a bit- and concentrating fire on Saelhen.

Their rolls are pretty bad for a while, but things turn around once they outmaneuver their foes and pull off some attacks of opportunity.

Benedict I. (GM): So, you two- describe your combo dance move that totally floors these two. With musical accompaniment, s'il vous plait Looseleaf: okay you know how in ballet there's a move that's, like, one dancer picks up the other dancer and hoists them in the air turns out that move is a lot more effective if the lifting dancer literally has wings. Saelhen du Fishercrown: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRoWiTcO7dk Saelhen gladly lifts Looseleaf, and for good measure gives her a little acrobatic toss and flips her in midair, catching her on the drop. Looseleaf: just to add insult to injury, looseleaf uses a whole conjunction of her fancy-schmancy special effects spells- minor illusion to create the effect of golden butterflies flapping around themselves, druidcraft alongside her wingbeat to scatter a bunch of her seeds and have them bloom into flower instantly Saelhen du Fishercrown: She's breathing heavily but... actually enjoying herself, despite the obvious competitive streak motivating all this. Looseleaf: it's a lot of visual spectacle on top of the move itself, and that's what puts the icing on the cake. Benedict I. (GM): There's raucous applause from the audience, and Aridrey is beginning to flag. She laughs, and- it's all she can do to keep up with Merrick, who's himself starting to have trouble keeping up.

(Meaning, while she's still his dance partner, she's "out", and no longer a battlefield presence.) Merrick, wifeless, tries to counterattack, and...

...makes the mistake of trying to copy their moves.

Benedict I. (GM): He hoists Aridrey above his head, and tries to spin her around the same way, and... they've been dancing all day, they're tired, and this is their first real attempt to improvise. "Wh- Merrick, wait-" Saelhen du Fishercrown: MERRICK I'M SO SORRY Benedict I. (GM): And she collapses on top of him, to laughter from everyone, particularly his dad. Saelhen du Fishercrown: (saelhen stifles giggles extremely well because a noble lady would never)

The battle seems more or less over, but Merrick is determined to see this through- breaking into a furious solo jig that puts the floor in grave danger of scuffing. None of his efforts land attacks, though- ultimately, Saelhen finishes the fight by delivering the ultimate humiliation- successfully copying his moves, a storm of fancy footwork. When the dust clears, the jig... is up.

Benedict I. (GM): His father laughs. "What'd I tell you, son? Don't get a big head, aye?" He slaps five gold pieces down on the counter. "Get 'em some rooms, Jonnem!" Merrick... he's been thoroughly humiliated, and doesn't take Saelhen's hand at first. Then Aridrey comes over and pulls him to his feet. "C'mon, honey. Grace, right?" Merrick vibrates for a moment, then lets out a sigh. He goes to shake your hand. "...Ffffffffine dancing," he says. Looseleaf: "That was a lot of fun!" Looseleaf is vibrating like crazy. Just hopping all over the place, like she hasn't quite gotten the dance bug out of her system yet.

Saelhen du Fishercrown: ("For what it's worth, man," she whispers, letting her gracious victor's smile collapse into a slightly shit-eating kind of grin. "That could've gone either way.") Benedict I. (GM): Meanwhile, Oyobi and Orluthe... I was going to say the outcome of their match would match yours, and I guess I'll stick to that, but Orluthe does not know how to dance, and Oyobi is drunk as hell. Orluthe may not know how to dance, but he knows how to hold on for dear life, and keep Oyobi vaguely upright as she flails around wildly. It's probably for the best that Saelhen's attention was elsewhere, because she would not have been able to keep a straight face at Oyobi's scandalous dance moves. Whatever's going on over there, the crowd is loving it- so all together, that's another 400 XP divided four ways.

With that victory, the party gets to stay the night for free. The next morning, they report the Greed Echo encounter and the dragon to the local Deathseekers' Guild (getting 10gp for their trouble, and turning a profit on this pit stop.) And with that... it's back on the road to Thunderbrush, next time!

#twofaced jewel #tfj log #d&d 5e

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inglourious-imagines · 4 years

Text

Birthday (Floyd "Tab" Talbert)

Requested by: @floydtab

Summary: Celebrating birthday with your man and Easy Company.

Author's Note: Happy birthday @floydtab ! Consider this as my present for ya! Hope you had a nice day and celebrated it all! I haven't been feeling well lately so it's not that good actually but I hope you like it anyway. I just really wanted to post it on this day haha.

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @floydtab @kyra3155 @real-fans @meteora-fc @not-john-watsons-blog @band-of-brothers-cz @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov

England, 1944

Practicing for the upcoming liberation of France and then Europe was slowly but surely coming and the military challenges intensified. Practical trainings were taking turns with the teoretical ones.

Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 506th PIR, 101st Airborne Division was more than ready to set off.

•••

It was a chilly evening in May 15, 1944 and one of those they could have a little party to celebrate whatever was there to celebrate. But this night, it was something special.

Y/N was walking around with no particular destination with Talbert in the lovely city in England. The sun was setting behind the horizon and flooding the city with the sunny gold.

"I think I wanna live here some day." Talbert stated all of a sudden taking her hand in his, "maybe we could buy a little house somewhere in England after the war."

Y/N looked at him shocked, not being able to get out a word. Talbert got her so off guard, she didn't even know he felt this way about her because they'd been together for about a year now and she just thought it might be a bit early to talk about things like living together, plus even on the other side of the world!

"That would mean leave our families behind, Tab. And Easy Company. Our whole lives are in America." Y/N alluded leaning to his side.

"You're my world." Floyd replied as if it was the simplest and the most obvious thing in the entire universe. He took her around her shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

Y/N felt genuinely happy in Floyd's arms, safe even. But what scared her was, when Talbert mentioned moving in together after the war, that she was actually considering the idea and not brushing it off of the table right away. Maybe not in England, but back home in the States. But it was such a distant future for both of them, it made no sense to bother with it now.

"Let's go to the pub, dear." Tab suggested as he turned around heading towards the cozy restaurant.

"Okay, but we won't get shit-faced like last time. That was too much." Y/N laughed at the crazy memory - Toye dancing on the table with Guarnere, Eugene playing some nonsense on the piano in the corner and Babe singing along, Liebgott with Webster downing one shot after another and above it all, her, George and Tab laughing in the middle of the pub when they stole a bottle of Vat '69 from Captain Nixon. That was a wild night.

"I can't guarantee you that, my dear." Floyd chuckled.

They stopped in front of the building and Y/N looked at her boyfriend confused, "What's the matter? Why don't we go in?"

"Could you close your eyes for me?" Tab smiled her as he pressed a kiss on her hand.

She did so not asking a single question and he guided her in the pub. As soon as they walked in, from all the directions a loud "happy birthday!" echoed. Y/N jumped a little not expecting that even the slightest as she quickly opened her eyes.

"What the hell? How do you guys know it's my birthday? I never mentioned it." she giggled looking around the room - a huge paper with handwritten wish was hanging from the ceiling, little balloons attached to chairs and in the middle of it all was set a table with a small box, a cake and a plenty of alcohol.

"That was Tab," George chuckled, "he organised everything. And we won't miss out an opportunity to get drunk."

Y/N turned to her boyfriend next to her with the widest smile on her face.

"Thank you so much, Tab." she whispered. Floyd took her around her waist, picking her up and spinning around.

"What are you waiting for, you idiot? Kiss her goddamn it!" Bill exclaimed and the boys began cheering with him.

Y/N laughed happily wrapping her arms around Floyd and leaning in. He pressed his lips against hers for a long passionate kiss when the boys clapped and shouted some comments such as "Take her to a room!" or "You're finally a man, Tab!"

In a matter of minutes, they gathered around a few tables, drinking, eating a cake and chatting. She got from all of the men a beautiful watch that must have cost a fortune. Y/N recalled how she complained back in Toccoa about how she doesn't have any.

Talbert suddenly stood up jangling on his glass. "Attention guys, please!"

The hum stopped and all the eyes were on Floyd.

"We've gathered here because my wonderful girlfriend has today a birthday. I'm not gonna talk much because I know how you all want to just drink and drink."

The boys laughed and Y/N was already blushing so hard as Talbert continued, "when we started dating in Toccoa it was supposed to be the biggest secret but when our dear Liebgott, who can't hold his goddamn mouth shut, walked in us doing... inappropriate "things", we both knew it's fucked up. Honestly, she's the best woman in the entire world. To Y/N!"

"To Y/N! The best woman in the entire world!"

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