#But Joe might like him too!! he could play a little piano!! imagine them playing together to show off for their girls😂

[sassyandclassy94]

Here’s your movie!Don headcanon of the day:

He’s a HUGE fan of Glenn Miller and becomes a regular 1930s fanboy whenever his music is played

[eemamminy-art]

ask thing!!!! mayhap some ship meme asks for fordola/lyse? and/or 4 headcanons for aymeric or y'shtola?

Oh boy!!!!!! Thank you for indulging my brainrot with these lmao! Absolutely massive post under the cut:

Who is the little spoon?

You would think it's Lyse but I feel like Fordola is the unwitting little spoon?? Lyse just bear hugs her at night and she begrudgingly enjoys the attention

Who sings in the shower?

Definitely Lyse! She strikes me as the type to sing to herself all the time

Who plays pranks on the other?

I don't think it would be either, I think Fordola is too serious and Lyse is a little too dense and gullible herself to be the prankster. Maybe after Fordola gets more comfortable she can do that stuff, but it also might go over Lyse's head gjsdjgdsjh

Who is the one who listens to pop music?

Assuming they even have pop music in Eorzea.. Again the obvious answer is Lyse but I'd love if it was the other way?? Lyse beats the shit out of a striking dummy to heavy metal while Fordola jogs to soft pop hits

Who brings the other a random cup of joe?

Lyse would, she is one of those overly thoughtful types but doesn't really know how to properly mother so she's like "here's your fourth cup of coffee, I don't know what else to do so I'm gonna make another pot!"

Who picks the cheesy movies for date night?

If it's cheesy comedy or romance, then Lyse. If it's cheesy horror, then Fordola :D

Who is more likely to feed the other in public?

I don't think either of them would be the type, but more the types to pass a straw back and forth on a smoothie or milkshake or something :D

Who gives the other random little compliments?

Lyse definitely!! Ever since her "you look great btw" comment toward Yugiri, I can only see her giving inappropriately timed little compliments

Who is always stealing food from the other’s plate?

I think Fordola would? She does it like a little act of rebellion, grabbing things from Lyse's plate even though Lyse is more than willing to share? She takes a forkful and Lyse is like "Oh, help yourself! It's really good!!" and makes her mad

Who is more likely to let the other borrow their car?

I don't think either of them should be trusted with a car tbh ghsdjgsd

Who makes the list before they go grocery shopping?

Fordola probably, but Lyse forgets it at home and they just wing it

Who makes sure the other takes their meds when sick?

Fordola would, I think Lyse is probably too scatterbrained to remember even if she was healthy, but Fordola is the type to be very responsible!

Who watches sports and has to teach the other the rules?

Lyse! I see her as such a jock, she probably gets way too into it too

Who pulls the other to their feet for a dance in the living room?

Lyse, definitely! She seems like the type to enjoy dancing, and she's very spontaneous :3

Who has to keep reminding the other to hurry or they’ll be late?

Fordola, she's again, the more responsible half!

Who is the one most likely to get a tattoo with the other’s name?

Oh cringe... I don't think Lyse would want to get any tattoos after having to wear the fake archon brands for 5 years, but if she did want them she would be the type to do that. But realistically neither of them would.

--- Four headcanons: Aymeric

Headcanon A:  realistic

In addition to his canonical hobbies of dancing and cooking, I'd like to think he's musically apt as well! Playing the piano, maybe singing? I love to imagine him singing in the choir as a boy, and his fondness for music transcending beyond Halonic hymns as he gets older.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Aymeric has an entire house full of cats, he started collecting them after his parents passed on because that big manor was so empty and his stewards had nothing to do while he was working like 16 hours per day.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

This one is more my wife's headcanon than my own because I'm too much of a shipper to go through with it, but Aymeric's faith making him want to wait until marriage for sex while Ishgard also frowns upon same sex marriage so there is little chance he ever would be able to marry 😭

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

Zephirin is another bastard of Thordan, and therefore Aymeric's half-brother, and taunts Aymeric with it while he's being tortured in the vault 🙃

---

Four headcanons: Y'shtola

Headcanon A:  realistic

Y'shtola cares more about her fellow scions and the WoL than she lets on, hiding it with her dry wit most of the time. When things get really dire, she shows worry on a deep level that none of her colleagues ever could have imagined from her.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

There's some line about Y'shtola "saying she's been 23 for a long time" or something to that effect, so I'd like to believe she's close to twice that but looks flawless due to magic

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Due to her using forbidden magic and also using her magic in order to see, the ominous warning Matoya gives about her shortening her lifespan comes true. Y'shtola hides it well but becomes very weak, falling into an unending sleep in her last attempt to cheat death.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

As aloof as she is, I'd like to imagine Y'shtola taking on a number of lovers throughout Eorzea. Never anything too serious, more like a fwb situation, but she'd intimately know a girl in just about every settlement. It's one of those closely guarded secrets though, unlike in the case of say, Thancred's exploits.

[redcat921]

Watch. Soul. Twice.

God, I haven't text posted in AGES but I think breaking down twice in a row for this pixar movie just hits so much BETTER. This movie will be on my mind for ages just because of how memorable it is.

EXTREME SPOILERS AHEAD!! Though, if you want to follow my lead, I'll tl;dr.

Watch the movie from Joe Gardener's perspective first. After, watch the movie from 22's perspective.

So, first off, I'll start with this. My own experience of watching this movie which was... absolutely amazing!! You're thrown into the middle school band class, and you immediately connect with Joe's music passion. Then, of course, crushed by the responsibility of having a job as a teacher. Even though his mother sees it as good, he still doesn't. And when he gets the chance of the lifetime to play with one of his jazz icons, Dorothea Williams, you feel as if he's finally getting what he's always wanted. Then he dies. You understand why he wants to get back to his life and his convictions, so you're rooting for him.

Obviously, this is Joe's story first and foremost. Which is why you're watching from his perspective, why you're watching him dream his dreams. Everything, from that first moment forward, is his perspective.

Okay, okay, that doesn't explain why I'm so heavy on watching Joe's perspective first, but I feel like any reader here will get it? As a movie goer, you want Joe to succeed in his dreams yet he's also beginning to care (platonically) about 22. Movie continues, and you see how much 22 is growing as a person, but you're still driven to let Joe back into his body to fulfill his dream. Then, when it hits that 22 found her spark and Joe snaps at her, his drive to become a jazz musician is only fueled. Of course, it's uncomfortable to watch how awkward 22 was in his body, but he's "just about to start living."

The best part? This one performance he felt his entire life built up to? It's... not everything he chalked it up to be. Then, that conversation with Dorothea hits. Joe wants the ocean even though he's already in it. And he only realizes it when he's home alone, playing the piano watching 22's memories in his body flash by.

This is why Joe's perspective hits. This moment, his Epiphany (according to the tracklist), is the trademark Pixar cry moment. All the memories of his life, the ones he didn't think of as important, are the ones he sees before accepting "death." This whole sequence just hits so well, as he realizes how small he truly is yet how meaningful his life was to those in it. Even more so because 22 deserves to live, maybe better than he ever could.

Now, I see this "climax" of the film (where 22 becomes a lost soul then is saved by Joe) as great, but most see it as unnecessary and a little immature in comparison to the rest of the movie. And this isn't the pixar cry moment every watcher probably had five minutes ago during Epiphany. This scene is probably the reason why I'm saying to watch it twice, but I'll get to it later.

End of Joe's story where he gets a second chance. (Yes, it's vague but that's because the literal point of the movie was that there wasn't a set purpose or meaning to his life. Hot take.)

Now, what you probably came for. Why you watch it twice. Well. That's simple enough, actually watch 22 this time. She's still a main character even from her first appearance past the title card, so she does deserve to be treated as such.

From 22's perspective, this Joe Gardner's life is the definition of dismal. Bleak. So much dreariness in life it could be draining... Yet, Joe wants to go back. To Earth which seems like the worst place ever. From her comments about how, "You can't crush a soul here. That's what life on Earth is for." AND "I've been trying for forever to find my spark.", you see her plight. Along with the fact you've seen how deeply this affects her in your first watch through, her movements matter a lot more.

I think the moment that stood out to me is 22's interest in Joe Gardner's life when Moonwind takes them to the "thin spot." It's a blink and you'll miss it moment for sure. But, for a split second, she looks at Joe while he's meditating and imagining his home. I can't help but imagine her interest in life despite all the things she's been told by the many mentors she's had. Then, you get to see her perspective about life on Earth.

From the awkwardness from standing still on the sidewalk in NYC to experiencing pizza for the first time, this is a true step outside 22's comfort zone. And she LOVES it. You get to experience how she found her spark in the littlest things that end up on Joe's piano during that first Pixar cry moment. You see when she talks to Dez, Joe's barber, and how she half reveals that she's scared of finding the wrong "spark" or "getting someone else's." You see her joy in playing with the window, taking the Take One van flyers, even laying on the grate pretending to fly. And you see how impactful Joe's relationship with his mother is too. Interesting that Joe's voice comes out during that conversation, which I noticed on my first watch, but really hit the second time. 22 has found out how meaningful human relationships can be.

Wow. The helicopter seed moment. Watching humans experience life and have relationships with each other is her spark. And that hits. Maybe enough to cry, maybe not. But 22 doesn't know about her spark, but you understand how desperate she is to live.

Then, of course, she gets put back into the Great Before, and Joe snaps at her. This hurts. You know how badly Joe wanted his own dreams, and he claims that your own life is only because he made it so. And... For that moment, she believes he's right. So she gives him the life he's been begging for and comes to the crushing conclusion that she doesn't have a purpose. She doesn't have that spark everyone else typically has. And, if that isn't relatable nowadays for those with mental health issues.

Yeah, it takes the wind out of the Epiphany moment, to watch from 22's perspective. But when you get to that moment where 22 wonders why she doesn't have a purpose in that white space, that broke me. The sand vortex in her lost soul did too, but that moment of being told that there is no being good at life, that evry soul is simply living, that no purpose could ever replace the relationships that she could build just like Joe had... "You're pretty great at jazzing." That's the second trademark Pixar cry moment.

For both of these watches, it makes the last moment when Joe holds 22's hand as they fall to Earth work. That's the lynchpin of this whole movie. This makes me cry too, but if you're too tuckered out from the other two, you're alright in my book. Both perspectives just allow this moment to be... That this mentorship mattered for both of their lives as they move forward.

Honestly, rewatch this movie 5000 times. This movie HITS all the right notes (forgive the pun) in their respective storylines.

I might watch it a third time after talking about it at length. To allow both stories to hit me. But, I hope you had fun reading my emotional journey while watching this film twice. (Yes, I did cry like a baby multiple times. I nearly cried writing this. Let me LIVE.)

Tl;dr Watch Pixar's Soul twice to get both perspectives from both Joe Gardner's perspective and 22's, so you understand the story in full. Thanks for reading!

[kaepopsicle]

ncts majors in uni.

this is all my personal opinion. tehe シ enjoy! (some of them might have majors & minors :))

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𝐽𝐼𝑆𝑈𝑁𝐺 . 𝑆𝑂𝐶𝐼𝑂𝐿𝑂𝐺𝑌 // 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸

I feel like since he has a big heart he would like learning about others

The dance one is kind of a given, he does it as a minor but more for the fun of it

I can see him being someone that works with social services

Even though he’s shy he’s good at understanding others

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𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑁𝐿𝐸 . 𝑆𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑆 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺

He is such a good speaker I can see him being a sports broadcaster

At basketball games specifically

He has a strong voice which he can use for things like that

He also loves sports (especially basketball) and I think he would do a good job at it

if he was the sports broadcaster I might actually watch sports

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𝑌𝐴𝑁𝐺𝑌𝐴𝑁𝐺 . 𝐿𝐴𝑊

This boy has such a big mouth and just knows what to say at the right times

But he also seems like the type of person to have a strong sense of justice

He seems like an intelligent person who knows what’s right and wrong (good morales)

Him also being charming and convincing he could do a good job at getting people to believe what he’s saying

Him being a lawyer is just a hot concept

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𝐽𝐴𝐸𝑀𝐼𝑁 . 𝑃𝑅𝐸 𝑀𝐸𝐷 (ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑙𝑦 𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑦 𝑚𝑎𝑗𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑜𝑜)

He has said before if he wasn’t an idol he would be an doctor

And just big hearted nana would be such a good doctor

He probably would be a pediatrician, he’s so good with kids

He’s also quite intelligent as well so I know he would be good in med school

Just imagine him as a doctor y’all lab coat in all, I would never eat an apple

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𝐻𝐴𝐸𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑁 . 𝐶𝑅𝐼𝑀𝐼𝑁𝐴𝐿 𝐽𝑈𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐶𝐸 (𝑖 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚//𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔)

For some reason I just see him being a criminal justice major

Works as a detective, he is good at figuring things out I feel like

His voice is also so nice to listen to and he seems to know what he’s talking about

He has a big heart for understanding others so he would do a good job at seeing all the sides to an investigation

Also just imagine him in a long brown trench coat and just ughhhh

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𝐽𝐸𝑁𝑂 . 𝐸𝑋𝐸𝑅𝐶𝐼𝑆𝐸 𝑆𝐶𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐶𝐸 // 𝑆𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑆 𝐸𝐷𝑈𝐶𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

Since jeno is such an athletic person it’s not a surprise he would be good at exercise science

Him being a physical education teacher or a trainer just fits

He’s so patient and motivational that it would be easy for him to help others

Even though he’s on the shyer side he seems like someone who would be good at leading

GYM TEACHER!JENO OR WEIGHT TRAINER!JENO

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𝑅𝐸𝑁𝐽𝑈𝑁 . 𝐴𝑅𝑇 𝐻𝐼𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑌

He just has that vibe to him

He doesn’t just like something for being something he loves the meaning behind it

Being an art history major he would yes, do art but also be able to learn and tell stories about it

He just seems like an artistic and poetic person, he just would fit being some sort of art history professor or something

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𝐻𝐸𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅𝑌 . 𝐶𝑈𝐿𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐴𝐿 𝑆𝑇𝑈𝐷𝐼𝐸𝑆 // 𝐸𝐷𝑈𝐶𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

I know he loves learning other languages and of other cultures (he has said it before but I can’t remember where)

So him being a cultural studies major just fits, him traveling meeting new people and learning about them

I also think since he loves teaching Ten mandarin he is patient and gentle

He would make a great teacher too! Since he just all around seems like a warm hearted, lovely individual

If he taught a class no one would ever skip it

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𝑋𝐼𝐴𝑂𝐽𝑈𝑁 . 𝑉𝐸𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑁𝐴𝑅𝑌 𝑀𝐸𝐷𝐼𝐶𝐼𝑁𝐸 // 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺

Okay so we all know how Xiao is with Bella and the cats, so it’s not a surprise he would want to do something evolving animals

Being a veterinarian fits, he can also sing while taking care of the animals

He just has that kind of heart you know?

Finds them beautiful and special and he is also good at comforting people if they lose a pet

But also since he has such a talent for writing I can see him minoring in writing, songwriting, poetry, etc.

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𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐾 . 𝐶𝑂𝑀𝑀𝑈𝑁𝐼𝐶𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁𝑆 // 𝐸𝑁𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝐻 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸

So for mark I had a little trouble thinking about what he would want to do, he has a lot of strengths

But one of his strengths is talking, he’s not the best at technology but him describing stuff seems to be powerful

So a communications // English literature major seems pretty fitting

He could be a communications director and brand leader for some big company

He also is a natural born leader (I blame the leo in him) so he would be good at leading people

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𝐿𝑈𝐶𝐴𝑆 . 𝐸𝑁𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐸𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺 // 𝑁𝑈𝑅𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐺

I feel like Lucas is honestly a really sweet guy who would love to take care of others so a nurse fits him

And he also just seems like someone who’s intelligent and kindness is underestimated

And honestly him being the type of person to pick an easy major 😂 so he would pick engineering and actually like it

I’m not sure what kind of career he would do, but I just know he would be good at whatever he chooses

He’s a quick learner :) why do I want to see him as a nurse so bad

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𝐽𝑈𝑁𝐺𝑊𝑂𝑂 . 𝑁𝑈𝑅𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑃𝐴𝑅𝑇 𝑇𝑊𝑂. 𝐹𝑂𝑂𝐷 𝑆𝐶𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐶𝐸

I can see him being some sort of nutritional nurse

He loves food and eating it but he’s also a big softie

So why not combine both of his passions and make a career out of it

He can test different foods and make sure they are healthy enough for others

And make diet plans for patients in the hospital for Dr. Na

imagine him, Jaemin & Lucas working in the same hospital omfg

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𝑊𝐼𝑁𝑊𝐼𝑁 . 𝐶𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝑌 // 𝑇𝑅𝐴𝐷𝐼𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐿 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸

Winwin just seems like the type of person to be an professional dancer

But in traditional Chinese dance

Since that’s what he is trained in

He has that raw, beautiful talent to him that he would be a good person to have shows and show off those talents

But studying in chinese history could be a back up in case he wants to settle down

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𝐽𝐴𝐸𝐻𝑌𝑈𝑁 . 𝐸𝐿𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐴𝑅𝑌 𝐸𝐷𝑈𝐶𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

Okay so Jae being the strong and warm person he is and how much he loves kids he would make an amazing elementary school teacher

He has a way with kids and making them listen to him

He would make it fun and beneficial

All of the kids would be in awe about him they just couldn’t help but pay attention

All of the female (and maybe some male) teachers have crushes on him

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𝑇𝐸𝑁 . 𝐴𝑅𝑇 // 𝐸𝑁𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝐻

Okie so this one is a given

He is a jack of all trades

There is nothing he isn’t good at, so personally he could do whatever he wanted

But since art is a strong passion I can see him being a professional artist, maybe owning an art museum

But also I see him minoring in English since he does love the language and speaking it, he could move to an western country and speak or teach it

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𝐷𝑂𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑁𝐺 . 𝑅𝐴𝐷𝐼𝑂 𝐵𝑅𝑂𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐼𝑁𝐺 // 𝐾𝑂𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑁 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸

Okay so three words; Doyoung radio show

He would have his own show and talk every morning

He would talk about pretty much anything, his life being an idol, his friends, family

Deep stuff dumb shit

Anything, and the korean literature could also just be a back up, he would do good in both

Vroom vroom talk show is quaking

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𝑌𝑈𝑇𝐴 . 𝑊𝑂𝑀𝐸𝑁𝑆 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅 𝑆𝑇𝑈𝐷𝐼𝐸𝑆 // 𝐽𝐴𝑃𝐴𝑁𝐸𝑆𝐸 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐴𝑇𝑈𝑅𝐸

So we all know Yuta is a feminist (WE FUCKING STAN) so him being an women’s gender studies major just makes sense

He would want to learn anything he can about women and even be a women counselor or someone who helps women going through stress

Also Japanese literature just bc you know he is Japanese and I think he would do a good job at that too

But imagining him being someone who helps women in tough situations and just being an all around MAN makes me cry

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𝐾𝑈𝑁 . 𝐶𝑈𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐴𝑅𝑌 // 𝑃𝐼𝐴𝑁𝑂

I think you guys saw this one coming

He has such a passion and talent for cooking he might even own his own restaurant!!

He is a good leader so being a head chef and telling people how to cook things and also being able to make things he wants to just sounds like a good plan for him

And piano minor simply for the fact he loves playing for fun

He would travel around the world making food for famous people and just wowwww

Gordon Ramsey is quaking

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𝑇𝐴𝐸𝑌𝑂𝑁𝐺 . 𝑃𝑆𝑌𝐶𝐻𝑂𝐿𝑂𝐺𝑌

Honestly Taeyong being a psychology major isn’t surprising

He has been through so much in his life that his heart just feels like he should help others

Him being such a gentle sweet person it wouldn’t be hard to make others feel comfortable around him

His presence all around is calming, he would do a good job just listening to people and maybe helping them

HE IS JUST SUCH A SWEET PERSON IM SOFT

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𝐽𝑂𝐻𝑁𝑁𝑌 . 𝐵𝑈𝑆𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆𝑆 // 𝑃𝐻𝑂𝑇𝑂𝐺𝑅𝐴𝑃𝐻𝑌

Hear me out, Johnny opening a coffee shop in Chicago

He would take pictures of the city and use it as interior design and he would make his own bouquets and have lots of plants around the coffee shop

It would be a very hip shop where a lot of college students goes

He would be very popular and everyone would know him

People would probably just go to his coffee shop to see him and taste his coffeee

I mean who wouldn’t want to go to Johnnys coffee shop ??? (Omg he should call it Johns Joe) hahaha I’m sorry I’m laughing at myself)

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𝑇𝐴𝐸𝐼𝐿 . 𝑀𝑈𝑆𝐼𝐶 𝑆𝑇𝑈𝐷𝐼𝐸𝑆

Again this is a given

Taeil just screams music teacher

Choir teacher, travels the country having his class and choirs sing in competitions

He is such a calm soul he would be good at it

And his voice is ANGELIC so it would be such an honor to be taught by him

He also just seems like he knows what he is talking about when it comes to music

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[bananaofswifts]

Call it “Use Your Seclusion II.”

Less than five months after Taylor Swift dropped “Folklore” — the blockbuster made-in-quarantine album that reintroduced this country-turned-pop star as an introspective indie balladeer — she’s returned with “Evermore,” which she calls the earlier set’s “sister record” and which came out with equally little warning on Thursday night.

Like “Folklore,” the new set of 15 songs (17 if you splurge for the deluxe physical edition) was created during the COVID-19 pandemic with a crew of musicians led by Aaron Dessner of The National; like “Folklore,” “Evermore” mines an atmospheric, slightly twee chamber-rock sound defined by breathy vocals and hand-played instruments of both the acoustic and electronic variety.

“To put it plainly, we just couldn’t stop writing songs,” Swift wrote Thursday morning in an Instagram post announcing the existence of the new album and of a music video for the lead track, “Willow.”

Joining the tea party this time are the sisters of Haim, several of Dessner’s National bandmates and Marcus Mumford of Mumford & Sons, along with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, who appeared on “Folklore” but plays a larger role this time as duet vocalist and sideman.

Given its scale and especially its secrecy — at this point, Swift’s NDA game is approaching Beyonce’s level — it’s fair to think of the sprawling “Folklore"/"Evermore” project as a superstar flex along the lines of Guns N’ Roses’ 1991 “Use Your Illusion” two-fer or Shakira’s “Fijacion Oral” and “Oral Fixation” from 2005. (That “Evermore"‘s release closely follows “Folklore"‘s numerous Grammy nominations, including for album of the year, only deepens the impression that Swift is here to win.)

Yet the singer’s companion LPs also showcase her prodigious songwriting talent at a moment when COVID has kept musicians off the stages that normally define their lives.

Has any A-list act utilized her involuntary time at home more fruitfully than Swift has?

What distinguishes “Folklore” from “Evermore,” of course, was the element of surprise — not in how the albums appeared (which shocked fans and industry insiders alike in both cases), but in the stylistic shift “Folklore” embodied. By downsizing her music, Swift’s first 2020 record obliged listeners to reconsider the skills of a master spectacle-maker; “Folklore,” with its many tunes about characters both real and imagined, also asked us to detach Swift’s songs from the particulars of her highly scrutinized personal life.

“Evermore,” in a first for Swift, simply repeats its predecessor’s trick, which means the new album’s tunes must stand on their own.

And not all of them are up to the standard she set on “Folklore.”

There are some incredible songs here, none more impressive than “Tolerate It,” a devastating account of a loving wife who no longer interests her husband; “Gold Rush,” about the torments of being in a relationship with a famous person; and “Champagne Problems,” which play-by-plays a rebuffed engagement offer with so much empathy that neither character ends up as the bad guy. (Interestingly, Swift wrote “Champagne Problems” with her boyfriend, Joe Alwyn, working in his alter ego as William Bowery.)

“No Body, No Crime,” which features vocals from Danielle and Este Haim, evokes the Chicks and Shania Twain as it unspools a daffy-vengeful whodunit yarn about a woman with a dead husband. “Dorothea” and “‘Tis the Damn Season” star the same central figure: a Hollywood hopeful who leaves behind her sleepy hometown only to return at Christmastime, when she temporarily rekindles an old romance.

“You could call me ‘babe’ for the weekend,” she tells the guy, which could just about break your heart.

Then there’s “Closure,” a wild industrial-folk number with Nine Inch Nails-style drums in which the narrator lays into an ex who can’t stand the idea that she’s still mad at him:

Don’t treat me like

Some situation that needs to be handled

I’m fine with my spite and my tears

And my beers and my candles

“My beers and my candles"! A top 10 bar for 2020, easy.

Yet too many of the remaining songs on “Evermore” feel like leftovers from “Folklore,” with recycled vocal cadences and melodic phrases or lyrical scenarios that seem unfinished, as in “Willow” and the pretty but aimless “Ivy.” The National’s guttural-voiced Matt Berninger joins Swift for a ghastly duet called “Coney Island” that makes you wonder if Dessner lost a bet to his pal.

And although you have to love the concept for “Cowboy Like Me,” about a pair of grifters who fall for each other on the job, the ersatz Lana Del Rey folk-rock arrangement (with Mumford on backing vocals) never gets up and goes anywhere.

“Evermore” closes with a callback to one of “Folklore’s” high points — the juicily emotional Bon Iver duet “Exile” — with another slow-motion piano ballad featuring Vernon’s pained man-in-the-woods falsetto. But this time he and Swift fail to connect as they did in “Exile,” which gives the song a glum brand-integration vibe.

For most pop stars, that might be enough. Not for Swift.

[charliejrogers]

Soul (2020) - Review & Analysis

See? 2020 wasn’t so bad. We got TWO Taylor Swift albums AND two Pixar movies! I joke. 2020 still sucked. Still, it is pretty notable to be getting two Pixar films in the same year. Last time that happened was in 2015 when we got Inside Out (what I thought was a masterpiece) and The Good Dinosaur (and I will die on the hill that more than a visual stunner it was a good movie too!) This year we’ve already had what I consider the functional equivalent of The Good Dinosaur in Onward, a very good, but ultimately light adventure tale of brotherhood. That means my expectations for this film Soul, from Inside Out’s director Pete Docter (also the director of Monsters Inc. and Up) were unfairly high. This was to be the year’s Pixar masterpiece.

It certainly tries to be. It’ a heavier film than Onward, deciding to tackle more existential questions like... “is there a point to life?” and “how do we avoid living a meaningless life?” You know… the stuff you usually see in kids’ movies. And while I am a big proponent of Pixar and recognize it is unfair to call their movies “kids’ movies,” the magic of their films usually derives from their ability to appeal to adults and kids alike. Though I love Inside Out dearly, I know it wasn’t a huge hit with kids, so it will never remembered as fondly as say Wall-E, Finding Nemo, or the seminal Toy Story . I say this because… I’m not even sure who this film is meant for? I really cannot imagine a child enjoying this film, but I’m also not a child so I won’t hold that against the film.

As an adult, however, I only moderately enjoyed the film. What it definitely has going for it is the beauty of the animation. I think The Good Dinosaur was probably still prettier, but that’s only because nature is prettier than city streets. This movie is drop dead gorgeous with environments sometimes indistinguishable from photographs.

Furthermore, the world of this movie is really, really interesting and creative in a way only Pixar could make. Well… sort of. A lot of the film is just our world, New York City to be precise. The movie tells the story of struggling, middle-aged jazz pianist Joe Gardner (Jamie Foxx) whose day job as a junior high band teacher pays the bills but doesn’t feed his soul. He’s only there at the behest of his mother (Phylicia Rashad). If not for her, Joe would be out there every day auditioning for gigs, trying to make it big and (likely) starving from want of work (though certainly not for want of talent). She’s more elated when Joe gets news he’s being made a full-time faculty member than when he gets a chance at a once-in-a-lifetime gig

But as fate would have it, that gig was what he’d been waiting for his whole life, his chance at the big time, the chance to play alongside a modern day legend, jazz sax player Dorothea Williams (Angela Bassett). He’s so excited when he gets the gig he can’t keep his eyes on traffic and inadvertently keeps getting himself into danger. Eventually, in his distraction, he actually falls down an open manhole. And he dies.

Yes. You read that correctly. Joe dies like 10 minutes into the movie. It’s really rather jarring tonally, and I feel like his death isn’t made dramatic at all. Something more impactful would make his inevitable resurrection all the more special. This is a studio that made me cry three times in 10 minutes when I first watched Up… they could have done something more here. Instead, the death just happens and we clip along to the next scene. This slightly rushed pacing continues throughout the film and is ultimately my biggest complaint with the movie. For something that tackles very big and heavy themes, it never really gives them time to breathe.

Anyway, the film then starts part 2 of 4. With Joe dead, we now see his soul alone in a vast black nothingness, standing on a bridge towards a bright light (what is referred to as the great beyond). Joe isn’t ready to die – he was just about to have his big break! So he manages to escape from the bridge to the Great Beyond into the world of the Great Before. It’s here that Pixar’s creativity gets to shine the most. The Great Before is the land in which personalities are born. Big Picasso-esque extradimensional figures (all inexplicably named Jerry and all with New Zealand accents) serve as guardians of the little, uniformly blue souls as they go through the “You Seminar” where they engage in various activities in order to become who they will eventually become. The Jerries usher the souls into various pavilions (including selflessness and insecurity as well as self-absorption!) in order to create all of our unique personalities. Apparently, the film sides hard on the nature side of the nature vs. nurture debate.

But the most important part of the seminar is pairing these newly developing souls with a recently deceased soul as a mentor. Together the two are supposed to work together until they find the developing soul’s “spark.” Once a soul gets their spark, they are ready to head to Earth and start life. Some people get their spark, i.e. their inspiration to live, from hearing about their mentor’s great life achievements in “the Hall of You” (mentors runs the gamut from Archimedes to Mother Teresa). Other souls get their spark from time spent in “the Hall of Everything,” where souls can try out various Earth hobbies and find what they will eventually love most in life (whether that’s painting, acting, or in Joe’s case jazz piano).

It’s a clever conceit, and I very much enjoyed my time spent in the colorful world of the Great Before. The movie gains its primary plot here when Joe (who isn’t supposed to be a mentor and should just be on his way to the Great Beyond) gets confused with a recently-deceased, world-renowned child psychologist and accordingly is assigned to be the mentor for a particularly difficult-to-inspire soul, referred to only by the number 22 (Tina Fey). Mentors have tried and failed to give 22 their spark for thousands of year. Ultimately, 22 just doesn’t get the hoopla about Earth and rather just enjoys the routine of their “non-life” in the Great Before. However, they and Joe make a deal. Since whenever a soul gets their spark, they get an Earth pass, if 22 gets their spark, they agree to give their pass to Joe, allowing him to return to his life and allowing themself to stay in the Great Before forever.

That plan doesn’t work. Instead the pair find some “shamans” in a desert within the Great Before who try to perform a resurrection ritual for Joe. This was probably the most creative aspect of this film’s plot. Shamans, mystics, or just serious meditators on Earth can actually have their souls transcend into the spiritual realm, allowing them to interacts with the other spirits who are permanently in the spiritual realm, like Joe and 22. I make special notice to include “serious meditators” because the main mystic/shaman is Moonwind (Graham Norton) who finds zen and therefore access to the spiritual realm by being a sign twirler on a street corner in NYC. But what I love about this aspect of the movie is its explanation that not just serious meditators can transcend to this realm, but actually any human can. Any time anyone gets “in the zone,” like when they get lost in playing music or basketball (or in my case doing physics problems), their soul can transcend up to the spiritual realm. The shamans are only in that they are aware of and can interact with that new reality; the rest of us are not.

However, in a fun, if a little too on-the-nose aside, the main job of the shamans is to return lost souls to Earth. Lost souls aren’t dead, they just belong to people who have become so addicted to something (e.g. greed) that they become soulless while living. The lone example the movie gives is of a hedge fund manager whose soul they manage to return and who subsequently quits his job. I’m sure there are nice hedge fund managers out there… so this joke fell flat for me even if I found the concept intriguing.

So the shamans perform their resurrection ritual. It goes predictably poorly as we’re only maybe 35 minutes into the movie and it can’t end yet. So we enter part 3 of the film where, because of the botched ritual, Joe’s soul inadvertently gets put into a cat and 22’s soul into Joe’s body. The rest of part 3 sees Joe and 22 try to put things back together. All the while, 22 by being in Joe’s body gets to finally experience real life on Earth (including their first experience of the human senses including tasting pizza). They find that they like Earth a whole heck of a lot, finding greatest pleasure in the smallest of things: a leaf falling from a tree, conversation among friends, a child’s hand being held. Plus, by being a naïve soul trapped in an old soul’s body, 22’s interactions with Joe’s family and friends (while Joe looks on in cat form) grants Joe an almost It’s A Wonderful Life type experience. 22 says and does things with Joe’s voice and body that he might never dream of saying, but the result of 22′s fresh take on life is the creation of new and genuine connections with those around him in ways he never had previously.

Of course, it’s not a kid’s movie without some sort of villain. While on Earth, Joe and 22 are being hunted by Terry, another extradimensional figure who serves as the Great Beyond’s accountant. Terry’s not so much a villain as he is a semi-comical plot device. While I appreciate that this movie eschews a true “villain,” I feel like Terry did little to add to this movie’s already very lacking sense of dramatic tension. I would have been perfectly content if they just added more horror and dread to Joe’s sense of loss of life.

Eventually, Terry manages to track down the pair and bring them back to the Great Before where, to everyone’s surprise, 22 somewhere along the way found her spark and now has a genuine Earth pass! She’s ready to live... and for once she’s excited to. That is, until Joe insists that 22 doesn’t deserve the Earth pass (i.e. to live) since they only gained a spark by being him and being in his body. In other words, 22 just got to copy Joe’s spark. So he takes 22′s Earth pass and rejoins life. He even realizes his dream and plays an absolutely outstanding show with Dorothea Williams!

And then feels empty. Earlier in the film, back in the Great Before, Joe got to see his “Hall of You,” that exhibit of his life, and he looking at his life so far decided that if he really stopped living that his life would be meaningless. He worked so hard for one thing for so long (to become a career pianist) and he never got it. Well, flash forward to the end of the movie, having now finally reached his dream, and Joe realizes it didn’t give him the payoff he thought it would. His life still feels empty. I appreciated the film’s quoting David Foster Wallace’s famous “This is water” speech even if it felt a bit hackneyed, and ultimately it serves as the movie’s message. Life isn’t about the big moments; it’s about what’s all around us. “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans” John Lennon once sange. Life is the stuff that made 22 so happy… the stuff that gave 22 her spark. She didn’t find a purpose or meaning when she was down on Earth that gave her a spark, she found a joy in falling leaves and conversations.

So with that realization, Joe returns to the Great Before, finds 22 and gives them their Earth pass back. Joe had in effect robbed 22 of the ability to live, and in the end undoes his harmful. But with only one Earth pass between the two of them, if 22 is to live, Joe must prepare for the Great Beyond. Now if you’re expecting to cry somewhere in this last part of the film… think again. As I said earlier, the film kinda clips along through these various story beats, not giving them time to be fully explored to the satisfaction of an adult thinker. And I don’t know about anyone else, but I didn’t feel much of a connection to either Joe or 22. so despite big moments of sacrifice and love, no tears came to my eyes. It’s not that either is unlikeable, but neither is particularly charming.

Some of it, I think, lies with some less than stellar voice acting on the part of Jamie Foxx. I don’t know. Some of his parts just felt phoned in? Tina Fey is adequate as 22, but not a stand-out. And I’m willing to concede too that the movie, the first in Pixar’s canon to focus on a Black character, may not have been made with me a white guy in his 20s as the target audience. Still, I’m not sure that race is particularly relevant to my dissatisfaction. I more think the film’s philosophy is a little jumbled, or maybe I just disagree with it. It seems to tells us that there’s no meaning to life and that the important part of life is enjoying the small things… but that’s a little naïve to say the least. Yes, trees are beautiful and music sounds good, but the movie shies away from the fact that life sucks for so many people. Like so many people. I’m sure poor and beaten down people will not feel comforted if you tell them that living is worth it because falling leaves are pretty.

But at the same time, I don’t want the movie to have argued that every person is “meant” to do something. In fact I think that idea is bullshit, and I like that the film denies this degree of determinism. If you can’t tell, I’m more on the nurture side of nature vs. nurture. But still by creating this world where souls are fully formed individuals prior to incarnation and to deprive them of a purpose feels… well soulless. Though, potentially bleaker, it feels more honest to just say we’re born as a blank slate, in a world devoid of meaning than to say that we are born fully formed into a world devoid of meaning. I would argue the later (and what the film argues) to reflect a darker, crueller world. Especially after watching a show like The Good Place which managed to so creatively and adeptly develop an entire moral philosophy that was relatively easy to understand and was largely agreeable... this feels lacking.

So yeah… I just couldn’t connect philosophically with this world, the film tackles bigger themes than its kid-friendly world seems fully capable of tackling, and despite beautiful visuals, it lags in the sound department, making it hard to really relate to these characters. I know it will find an audience because it’s a superbly made film set in a creative world with a unique premise, but that audience just isn’t me.

**3/4 (Two and three fourths out of four)

[musedblues]

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 6]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You're working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life's greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

w/c: 3k

a/n: Oh my God, I did it. I finished something I started. I sincerely hope you all enjoy the finale of this story, I tried to make it happy as I could manage. Thank you lot for reading this far and for all the support along the way. Here it is... THE END!!

tagliast: @im-an-adult-ish​ @mrsmazzello​ @lettinggosthehardestpart​ @the-moving-finger-writes​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @sherlollydramoine​

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

one year later...

"When are you gonna come visit me, huh?" Gwilym whined like a child, via facetime. "That's... a very good question. What do you think?" Joe rose a brow, turning his face from his phone screen to look right at you. "Huh?" All your attention had been focused on scribbling music notes onto sheets of paper. 

"The weather is finally nice again. We should take a trip!" Joe quipped, and you saw Gwil nodding in encouragement from the phone propped on the kitchen table. "Oh, please! It's about time I take you pair on a tour of my city." Gwil imagined on your behalf, coxing you to dream along. He'd stopped in New York a handful of times, usually just to see you. It was about time you hit up his haunts... You had the money, and you could make the time. The savings from your shifts at the flower shop were a great start, but after leaving your hometown to move in with Joe, you'd landed an even better job.

When you started roaming the city for places that were hiring, a nice woman behind a bakery countertop informed you that her husband might be able to help you out. She scribbled his business address on a sticky note, and you left to follow the directions. And when you discovered where you'd been led too, all you could do was laugh out loud.

It was the piano bar. The one Joe had taken you and Gwil too the first weekend you stayed over, with naugahyde seats and a very nice Steinway. With a deep breath, you stepped inside. It was still early in the afternoon, and there weren't many patrons lazing about the lounge. You moved to the opposite end of the bar from where its only customer sat slumped over a beer. Behind the counter was the same friendly older man with the German accent, whose eyes lit up when he saw you. You wondered, for one fleeting moment, if he somehow remembered you too. "What'll it be for ya, then?" The man set down the glass he was cleaning and looked to you expectantly. "Actually, I heard you were hiring." You grinned. The older man lost his smile but the sparkle in his eye remained as he let out an "ahh," of understanding. "You any good?" He wondered, leaning against the counter. You took a beat to peer past his shoulder at the rainbow of bottles that lined the walls. Some were drinks you'd never worked with, but you had years of experience otherwise. "I'd have to renew my license, but I think-" "Oh no," The man frowned, softly interrupting you. "No, I'm looking for someone to play in residence." He nodded toward the small risen velvet stage where a baby grand sat in waiting. Your heart leapt to your stomach and back up again. "I- I haven't played in years." You meant to think it, but you said it out loud. When you turned back to look at the man behind the counter, his sly smile was back. He insisted you an audition, practically begging you to go and play something. As you stood in deep thought, he spoke up again. The man decided you could work behind the bar until you got the guts to play something. So for a week you mixed drinks and worried over what to do next. The last time you touched your keyboard was a lifetime ago, when you sold it off to pay for groceries. But you were living in another world, now. One where you ended your evenings alongside Joe, arguing over what to cook for dinner and laughing over his well thought out debates of why it was perfectly okay to have pizza four nights in a row. He was silly as ever, in fact, his wit seemed sharper than before. But unlike in high school, when he'd test the limits of how mad his dumb pranks could drive you, he knew when to draw the line. Joe knew when to stop laughing and listen, but never lost his smile when gears shifted. After those first few long nights of laying out all your pent up thoughts and feelings from over the years, after telling every story you could each think of; those late-night conversations didn't end. You listened to each other ramble over silly things, unimportant things. But in the midst of it all, Joe was good at reminding you of your worth.

If it hadn't been for Joe's encouragement, you wouldn't have ever played the piano again. Through his persistence, you understood that an opportunity had presented itself and that you had nothing to lose by taking the chance. So you did. You warned your new boss that you didn't have much practice, but he sat patiently as you got the guts to play through most of Erik Satie's Gymnopedie no. 1 as the sunset. When the open sign flickered to life, you stayed on the bench. After then, you played almost every night, and even helped mix a drink or two when the occasion called for it. You'd settled into such a familiar routine at the piano bar without missing a single day, surely you'd earned a bit of a break, right? And how could you say no to Gwilym? His puppy dog eyes were even more convincing over facetime. /// "Oh yeah, I have a surprise for you." Joe sleepily grumbled like it might have been any other passing thought. "What, you're overtaking Gwilym as the tour guide?" You chuckled, setting back into the airplane seat as Joe's head fell to your shoulder. "No. Something much more exciting." Joe let out a little laugh, drifting to sleep soon after he said so. The plane had barely taken off. But Joe had been so busy planning this weekend-long trip to London that you were almost certain this was the most rest he'd gotten in weeks. Sure, Gwilym had been on the other end of the phone helping decide dates and times and reasons, but Joe was like a soccer mom competing to plan the best Disney World itinerary of the decade. He said it was because this was your first big trip together. But of course, you could have walked down the block with Joe at your side and been just as ecstatic to join him there, hand in hand. The sun rose over the clouds through the plane window, and Joe was heavily snuggled against your side, keeping you grounded a mile above land. 

At first, when kisses still seemed new, and every trip to the market was an adventure, you wished you'd loved each other like this much sooner. But you decided everything happened at just the right time. You belonged together, but you wouldn't have been brave enough to accept that if you hadn't lived a few uncomfortable lives apart. After everything, coming back to each other seemed expected.

Your mother, though, acted as if the second coming of the Lord Jesus Christ had occurred when you first told her you and Joe made it official. She actually ran across the street to recruit Mrs. Mazzello in asking you one thousand embarrassing questions, but even that seemed like any other day. You spent the majority of the plane ride thinking back to those little moments, letting your mind wander. You thought of the last time you were in London, feeling glad to be headed there with Joe, for a change. Gwilym was lingering near a row of empty seats in a bustling waiting area, grinning from ear to ear. You were the first to greet him with a big hug. Gwil, to you, was a fresh start. A new friend from an old place, who came into your life at the exact perfect time. "Bore da!" Gwilym cheered, like a kid fresh from school. “I leave you all this time to practice and that's the best you've got?" You laughed at Gwil's charming efforts in keeping your silly challenge of speaking in a "secret" language. He was never any good at remembering the rough phrases you passed on to him, but he tried all the while. "I tried teaching him how to say 'welcome back' but we agreed I should be the one to say it." A familiar raspy voice cut through your attention focused on Gwil. Joe broke out into a dance in the place he stood, beaming at you. "Surprise!" He called, as you turned away from the men to lock eyes with one of the best friends that surely ever existed at all. Tegan was casually sipping on an iced coffee, holding back a massive grin. Her icy eyes were free from streaks of black makeup. Her dark hair was a little shorter than she used to wear it, but her smile grew bigger than ever before, and she was here. You lunged toward the girl, wrapping her in a hug she'd been practicing for the same as you. Joe was still dancing. "This was your surprise? How'd you pull this off?" You laughed, connecting the dots with what Joe had said as your plane took off. He went on to explain how the idea just sort of came to him when he started planning the trip. Joe had called Tegan one night while you were at work, and after making sure Gwil was alright with your dearest friend crashing the party he'd thought up, the three of them started scheming right under your nose. Gwil explained how Tegan's flight had been scheduled to land an hour earlier than yours, and how he didn't mind the sudden strange company one bit. 

You were well and truly surprised, and you made sure to thank the lot of them for thinking up such an exciting idea.

"Thank you," Tegan's tone floated low and serious past her smile as she reached out to hug Joe, for the first time ever. But there was such an air of familiarity between the lot of you that this too, felt like another day out of the life you were meant to be living. /// "God, I'd love if he'd toss me around like a rugby ball." Tegan sipped from a spiked lemonade, propped up on her elbows as her gaze focused on Gwilym tossing a ball to Joe, who was coaching his friend on proper pitching etiquette. "How romantic." You snorted, reaching for some cherries from the basket of snacks you toted along. Gwilym had led you all to his favorite beach where pockets of sand and tall grass made perfect spaces to enjoy a bit of quiet nature. Of course, you couldn't help but set up a speaker to play a list of everyone's favorite summer tunes. Just loud enough to cover up the sound of your chatter with Tegan, who had some new fantasy about Gwilym to blurt out every other minute. "I know it's not Wales, but it's nice to have you back, even for a minute." She turned toward you, setting her drink aside. you tucked your feet away from the hot sand and admired your friend as she peered up at you. "I'll always come back for you." You halfway joked, but nodded in assurance. "If my flirting pays off, you and I might see more of each other yet," Tegan informed peering at the boys near the shoreline. "Those two seem like the most inseparable of us all. We'd be like sister wives." You laughed, silently wondering when your life became one big full circle. Tegan joked about her little crush, but as the day went on it didn't seem so silly. When your friend wasn't looking, you noticed Gwil stealing glances all afternoon, tripping on his mother tongue, your secret language out the window.

The radio crackled with some chime saturated pop song, birds dared to scuttle toward your picnic.

"I can hear the wedding bells now," You joked, looking toward the radio, laying on your side to face your friend.

"Yeah, those are clearly for you." Tegan pointed out.

"Maybe." You responded with your first thought, conditioned to be wary of the future. But when you caught a glimpse of Joe laughing with his best friend near the water, you realized you didn't have to be weary any longer. "Okay, probably." You corrected, out of some primal fear of keeping Joe at a distance ever again. "But not yet. You know he and I decided to take things slow."

Tegan let out a chirped laugh, causing a nearby bird to fly off.

"Yeah, that's what you keep saying." She subtly stressed how your actions seemed to be contradictory. How you and Joe agreed to ease into a relationship together. But being together seemed like a glass of water after being stranded in the Sahara. You moved into his place in the blink of an eye. You abandoned the guest bedroom to share his long before moving in.

"It's hard to waste so much time when there is a lot we have to make up for." You reasoned. Tegan hummed in understanding right away, but then she sat up a little more, looking back to the horizon.

"I know what you mean. It's like... where has he been all my life?" She dared to speak as Gwil was approaching dangerously close to the two of you. After bursting into giggles and assuring Gwil you weren't talking about him, he grabbed a bottle of water and scurried away with one last glance over his shoulder.

You and Tegan went on planning a double wedding, to save money and time and innovations, naturally. Through fits of laughter, she decided to run the free bar, and you happened to know a pretty good wedding photographer.

And before you knew it the night had turned navy blue. You rented a hotel where each separate room was connected by a door near the entertainment center. You and Tegan claimed one room for yourself, taking turns showering and swapping clothes, like you used to.

The four of you ended up at some all-night joint who catered to a bunch of miners who traveled through at odd hours. The neon sign was a beacon and you all split plates of food and told embarrassing stories. You could have stayed there laughing all night if Tegan hadn't suggested adding drinks to the mix.

So you headed back to your shared suits, filing into one room and setting up shop for a late-night of laughter.

Tegan dropped Joe into learning how to mix a drink at the mini bar, cursing in welsh. You laughed from the place you settled on the balcony, and Gwilym took a seat beside you with a smirk.

"Why didn't we all just go to Wales?" He wondered aloud. You'd been making fun of him for being so lost when you and Tegan traded secrets.

Your first thought was to keep poking fun at Gwil, to say something about he'd get lost navigating the street signs. But you trusted the guy enough to tell him the truth. When you glanced inside to make sure Tegan and Joe were still occupied making a mess at the minibar, you leaned closer to Gwil and tried to make a very long story as short as possible.

Under the dim patio light, you explained how you moved to London after graduation, met a guy, moved to Wales and wasted too long with him. How you felt stuck. How he died and how you went back home to Joe where you belonged. Gwilym listened quietly, running his fingers over the stubble on his jaw as you capped off your story with how glad you were to have scored such a valuable friend in Tegan, through it all. "Guess you really don't need my tour of the city after all, huh?" Gwilym shrugged, realizing you were already pretty familiar with the back alleys. "Of course I do. I'm dying to see this place from your perspective." You grinned. Gwilym had a way of making everything seem newer, more exciting. But the question he asked that kick-started your conversation hung in your heart a little heavier as the evening went on. When you'd become overloaded by everything the day had to offer, you decided it was time to call it a night. You pulled Joe into the room meant to be for you and Tegan, hardly thinking of anything but how badly you longed for a quiet moment alone with the guy. You didn't speak, you just curled up and laid together. And if she noticed, Tegan didn't seem to mind as her laughter existed somewhere behind the door you locked her out of. You could even hear Gwilym singing Christmas carols in the warm summer night.

Your eyes grew heavy as your breathing synced with Joes, chests rising and falling in time. Everyone you loved was right where they ought to be.

The nightmares had gone away, but you must have had one. It happened like it used to, some heavy feeling rising in your chest and causing your eyes to shoot open when you hadn't even realized you'd fallen asleep.

The laughter and music from the other side of the door was gone, and the rising sun was casting a purple shadow through the curtains.

You were drawn to the window, trying to drown the sickening worry rising in your throat. You stood focusing on the sun sparkling over the waves. Watching far away people walk their dogs, and kids chasing each other. You were so lost in the scene that you were almost startled to have been interrupted.

Joe had woken up and joined you, snaking his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder. You felt safe enough to speak your mind.

"What if I don't ever go back to Wales? Is that selfish? What if I want to, but just can't do it?"

You'd lost so much there. You left so much behind, things you loved. Things you never got to say goodbye to. You realized that some of the things you'd planned on keeping now, could disappear just as well.  Days like this could slip away no matter how desperately you clung to them. Nothing lasted, good or bad. You spent the morning worrying over how to exist between those epic highs and tragic lows.

"I heard something once," Joe spoke up, keeping his loose hold around you. You rested your head back against his shoulder as you watched the waves crash to shore, a safe distance away. "Something about how there are only so many cutting patterns used to make puzzles. There was an artist who took different pictures and put them together because the puzzle pattern matched up. So you get funny little pictures, like, a train with the legs of a horse. But others were hard to tell apart. Like different mountainscapes blending together."

Joe rambled, looking at the same view as you.

"Life is like that, ya know? Things might not always make sense but they go together whether you like it or not. I'm not saying you should do anything you don't want to do. But I can promise no matter what puzzle you decide to put together, I'll be there to help fit in the pieces."

"God I can feel my teeth rotting, Joe," You elbowed him in the ribs as you spun to face him, because if you didn't joke about how sappy that was you would have surely burst into tears.

"I love you too." He rolled his eyes before leaning in for a gentle kiss, your own secret language.

Joe gave something that you were terrified to lose. And you were glad it was him. No matter where you wound up, you'd find his humor in places and the color of his eyes in things.

Joe was your destination. His arms remained open, inviting, even though you never truly strayed too far from his reach.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Together, we can live with the sadness I'll love you with all the madness in my soul." - Bruce Springsteen.

[klaus-in-a-whole-foods]

all i have are fragments of a possible crossover

I’ll be honest with you i actually missed part of the movie, specifically the Booker betraying them part 😬

someone else could write this better please go ahead.

yes i know it doesn’t make sense for both Booker and Nile to be there but we’re also pretending Finn is around so ...

When Copley sent them on this mission to New Orleans he’d been a little vague on the details. “Something big”. Ok he’d been very vague. Still, the last thing Andy expected to encounter was another group of immortals who were also trying to save the city. The kind of immortals that should not exist. 

The kind that only live by blood. 

~

Nile leaned against the railing overlooking the courtyard. Booker and Joe sat below, engaged in an increasingly heated debate about something Nile had forgotten from history class with the blond vampire, Klaus. Vampire. She still couldn’t believe it. She’d only found out about her own immortality a few months ago, and now she was surrounded by vampires and werewolves. And probably a swamp monster if she looked around the corner.

“Soo your life’s going pretty well until one day you’re basically kidnapped by a group of crazy immortals and dragged into their epic battles and family drama,” Hayley said as she walked up behind her. 

“Basically. Some days I’m still trying to wrap my head around it-”

“Oh, you? I was talking about myself.” 

Nile laughed, “You too huh?”

“Yeah.. granted I was already a werewolf, but that seems like nothing compared to all the magical craziness i’ve had to deal with since I met the Mikaelsons.” 

“Does it get any easier, like after a hundred years maybe?”

“Ask me again in 97 more years.”

~

Rebekah walked in the study as Elijah sat intently at the piano.

“That’s a pretty fancy piece of music, trying to show off for your new boyfriend?”

Elijah smiled “I’m not showing off, I’d like to entertain our guests.”

“Yes I’m sure you would...” 

Elijah stopped playing and turned around “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well I know you’re having fun with Nicolo but you’d better watch out for his boyfriend. He already tried to take your head off once, might not want to give him another reason.”

Elijah rolled his eyes and went back to playing. “I’m sure I can handle him” he muttered to himself. 

~

“A thousand years as an immortal and I’ve only really lived about a hundred. I can’t imagine 6,000” Finn said as he stood in the cellar doorway. 

Andromache sat on a crate, helping herself to a bottle of scotch. She had hoped no one would bother her down here, give her a chance to come up with a plan. But these vampires kept coming out of the wood work. And they all loved to talk. 

“How do you know how old I am?”

“The Frenchman likes to talk, he’s been raving about your many exploits over the centuries. I think he’s actually trying to intimidate us” he laughed. 

“I doubt that’ll work. Technically I’m not even immortal anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Andy realized that may have been the wrong thing to reveal to the blood-sucking vampire, but she continued anyway. “Nothing can live forever. One day we just... don’t heal like we used to. We become mortal.”

“Sounds like a blessing” Finn said. She glared at him, confused. 

“My family destroyed my only hope for death. A single scrap remained of the wood that could kill us, and they lost it to an enemy. I have no freedom from the curse of my existence.”

A bit dramatic Andy thought as Finn sat down and took the scotch from her hands. 

“I started to think I was cursed too. I was tired of living forever and still not being able to make a difference in the world. But now that I’ve got an end date, all I want is more time.”

“You don’t live forever as a monster. An abomination of nature. You and your kind have used immortality for good, while my family has only ever used it for selfish gain. To wreak havoc.”

“Maybe you could find the time to do some good for the world if you stopped whining for a moment!” She said, stealing the bottle back and taking a swig. “Now we came here to save people and your siblings claim to be on our side. So are either help me, or get out of my way.” 

Finn thought for a moment before he replied. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

[ollyarchive]

My son the global pop star? Olly Alexander's mum Vicki Thornton talks about growing up gay in Gloucestershire, Gogglebox and Glastonbury

Olly Alexander's mum speaks candidly about being mother of the flamboyant Years and Years frontman

Watching Vicki Thornton on the Celebrity Gogglebox sofa it would be easy to imagine that having a famous child is an easy passport to the good life.

Every Friday night for weeks the Forest of Dean mum-of-two has been on TV  sipping Prosecco while commenting on TV programmes with son Olly Alexander, the flamboyant frontman with the chart-topping band Years & Years.

On the face of it it’s been a charmed motherhood. First she watched the talented young man leave college to succeed as an actor, treading the boards as Peter Pan in a play with Judi Dench and appearing in movies such as Gulliver’s Travels, The Riot Club and Great Expectations.

Within a few years he appeared to seamlessly achieve global musical success with a chart-topping band and which led to a much applauded appearance on the Pyramid stage at Glastonbury Festival 2019. This weekend he is appearing on the same stage as Ariana Grande at Manchester Pride.

Yet anybody who follows Olly knows it’s not all been red carpet premieres,  backstage passes and Gogglebox for Vicky, it’s also been about hearing uncomfortable truths about a son who has used his growing success as a platform to publicly campaign for LGBT rights.

Growing Up Gay

Not only has she had to listen to how he secretly self-harmed and developed bulimia as a closet gay teenager growing up in the Forest of Dean, but in 2017 she also bravely agreed to appear in an an emotional BBC Three documentary about how it can lead to mental health issues.

In Growing Up Gay Olly admitted that just driving home back to sleepy Coleford with the film crew stirred up such painful memories that it made him feel physically sick.

If that wasn’t difficult enough to hear, Vicki learned that Olly, who attended St  John’s Cof E Primary School in Coleford and Monmouth Comprehensive, had been unable to tell anyone that he was being bullied from a young age because he had long hair and seemed gay.

“When he asked if I would do the documentary, it was a bit of a decision to make because I knew it would mean digging up the past and going further into the reasons for the problem,”  said community artist Vicki.

“ I knew that having to face up to issues  I was not aware of at the time was going to be a very difficult process, but if it was going to help Olly and other people in similar situations I had to do it.

“I had to be  open and honest about everything which meant confronting my own feelings of guilt. You have to openly accept that you may have made some bad choices and decisions but you are human. It’s not about making excuses, it’s about learning from your mistakes.”

The documentary was so painful that the producers had Vicki assessed psychologically to make sure she could deal with the deeply personal issues it raised and arranged for her to have counselling beforehand.

Still a much watched video on iPlayer, it shows them sifting through photographs and videos of what his mum thought was a happy, innocent childhood on a beautiful part of the world.

“Going through the family history you see all these little happy, innocent little faces” said Vicky who also has an older son who has aspergers syndrome. “It’s terrible to think somebody could be hurting them.

“I think the bullying was mostly mental but when someone is full of joy and happiness and somebody else comes along and closes that down, it is the saddest thing.

“As parents you think you know what’s going on, you think that they are safe, they are happy, they are fed, all the boxes are ticked. But you don’t know the half of it.

“The  little things I heard about what happened to Olly that he and his brother have talked about, are awful.”

Everyone thinks their child is amazing but I knew Olly was special

Community artist Vicki said she knew “in her bones” even before Olly, 29, was born that he would go on do great things.

“Every mother thinks that, and every child is amazing, but I knew that this child was different, there was something there,” she said.

“Olly was always a bright, funny, happy child, full of life. He was such a bouncy, lovely little cherub  that I could never get cross with him,  ever.

“On the rare occasion that he would throw a tantrum I would find it funny and just laugh at him. He would just stand and scream blue murder and it was just hilarious.”

Life in the Forest of Dean

Their early days were spent living near theme parks that his father promoted but in 1997 the family moved to the Forest of Dean where his parents set about creating a model village tourist attraction.

It was a musical, creative, left leaning household and although he loves Rihanna, and famously met the singer on the Graham Norton show,  Olly, credits much of his influences to listening to his mother’s tapes of Nina Simone, Joni Mitchell and Stevie Wonder. She was one of the founders of the local music festival where Olly cut his teeth.

“I used to be a puppeteer actor in an education travelling theatre company in the late 1980s," said Vicky when asked about her bohemian background.

“When I was younger I was also a backing singer in a band called Innamanna. We played the Marquee in London and did some recording but when we had to decide ‘do we stick with this or carry on with our careers?’ it folded.

"But I couldn’t stand on a stage in front of thousands of people like Olly does. I would die.”

Olly as a boy

It was clear that Olly had inherited her artistic streak and although a talented gymnast and able academic, he concentrated on music and drama, later saying it was because he felt at home with the weird kids.

Vicki remembers him being very driven, open minded and very focussed.

“Olly taught himself to play the piano and to sing and there was always a healthy competition with his best friend Joe to get the best parts in the school plays,” recalled Vicki

“He was always singing all over the house.  He loved Disney and he would get old song books full of the classics and teach himself on the piano.

“He did not want to be in musicals but loved the singing and performance side of it.”

I did not realise there was so much pain going on inside.

In the documentary the talented singer songwriter says that  he did not have the vocabulary to put how he was feeling into words and  felt too ashamed to admit it anybody he was gay. Even his mother. He desperately wanted to be straight so he never admitted it.

“On the surface he was a real high achiever so I  had no idea there was so much starting to bubble up as a young teenager,” said Vicki.

“I thought the sky was the limit for him. I thought he could do anything he could put his mind to but I did not realise there was so much pain going on inside.”

“Because he was always fun happy, smiley,  lovely child achieving lots of things at school, I thought things were fine.

“Probably my eye was  off the ball because I was going through a lot of life changes at the time and maybe I was in denial that there was something going wrong.”

Marriage split

In an interview last year with the former Labour spin doctor Alastair Campbell, Olly says his diaries show a clear link between his father leaving and creating a “family implosion” and his mental health health issues developing around he age of 13.

They are estranged but met up when his father contacted Olly through Twitter and in subsequent interviews it’s clear the singer was less than impressed with the reality as opposed to the imagined version of an aspiring musician father who he had always wanted to impress.

“Splitting up with their dad made life a lot harder, definitely financially, and so life was a big struggle,” said Vicki.

“That’s probably part of the reason why I had my eye off the ball. I was distracted doing other things, so we were a bit dysfunctional or a while, which I feel guilty about.

“But I don’t feel guilty about that relationship ending at all, both for the boys and myself.”

Coming out

She says although from the outside it looked like Olly was enjoying a glittering lifestyle after leaving sixth form college to travel abroad filming the movie Summerhill, he was often penniless and had to take jobs such as selling hot dogs on the South Bank in between the contracts. She wasn’t in a position to help pay the rent either.

He was 18 or 19 and involved in the gay party scene in London when he plucked up the courage to pick up the phone and tell her outright that he was gay.

Vicki said: “He had said to me once ‘I don’t think you are going to have any grandchildren’. Not taking the hint, I said ‘well never say never’.

“He obviously got to the point where he thought ‘I’d better actually say it to mum because she doesn’t get it’.

“He phoned me up and said ‘you do know I am gay don’t you?’ . I said ‘Are you? OK’ and that was it really. I suppose I had a feeling he might be but maybe I didn’t want to confirm that because of fear about what his life might become because of all the homophobia out there.”

Vicky told told her elderly mother,  who sang on Broadway with the D’ Oyly opera company before cutting her career short to get married and have a family.

“Her immediate reaction was ‘but he will not be able to go to Africa, it’s illegal in Africa’, laughed Vicky about her 89-year-old mother who follows her grandson avidly on social media and has even seen Years & Years in concert.

“Like me, she doesn’t want to see him marginalised because marginalised sections of society can  attract a lot of negative behaviour. Nobody wants to see their nearest and dearest suffer from that.”

I just hope kids today aren’t going through the same thing

From that moment on Vicky has worried about her son being the victim of homophobia and although she is intensely proud, she still fears that being a figurehead for equality could make him a target.

“I wish he felt he could have talked  to me and maybe I could have prevented all of that, but I understand that is very difficult for young people,” she said.

“I remember that feeling of not being able to talk to my parents  and I just hope kids today aren’t going through the same thing. They get more support at school than they did 15 years ago but bullying and social media trolling still happens.

“I do worry about him being exposed to bigotry and homophobia. it’s not nice to think about your child living in fear.”

In an interview last year Olly was asked if he ever wanted to confront the bullies who made his life miserable growing up but he said he doesn’t think about it much any more because his life had changed so much.

He said he still takes anti-depressants, has weekly therapy sessions and works out a lot to keep his mental and physical health on track.

While campaigning for more to be done to prevent male suicide after being named as GQ Man of the Year,  he admitted he still has occasional days when he doesn’t want to get out of bed because his life does not feel worth living and can be too frightened to go on stage, or cries when he comes off. He hides behind outlandish costumes and make up.

The fun side of having a famous son

It's clear that there is a close bond between mother and son and Olly likes her to share in his successes.

For instance in the early days the pop star  arranged for her to wear an expensive diamond necklace to the red carpet premiere of Great Expectations in which he played Herbert Pocket.

“It was insane,” said Vicki. “ We had taxi from where he lived to the red carpet and there was all these people at the barriers.

“I thought they are going to be so disappointed when I get out because I’m no-one. Somebody took me to one side while Olly went off to meet the paparazzi and because it was raining they put a brolly over my head.

“Then we went in and watched the film which was mind-blowing because I was sat next to some of the actor’s. When it was finished we went to the after-party which was all very very glam.”

Naturally shy, Vicky was overawed to meet the likes of Jeremy Irvine, who starred in War Horse.

“I was quite overwhelmed by it all at first but I have got more relaxed about being in that kind of environment,” she said.

“The whole thing is a bit surreal really. It’s a bit  like a film in itself. Once I was this close to Helen Bonham Carter who I think is fantastic, but you don’t want to go up to people saying ‘I love you’.

“Olly told me once, that when they started filming he actually said to her ‘I love you Helen Bonham Carter’ and and she said ‘I would love you too if I knew who you were’, but she later came to the stage door to congratulate him after Alice and Peter.”

More recently Vicky was overwhelmed when she was introduced the men from one of her favourite TV programmes, the Netflix series Queer Eye, at Radio One’s Big Weekend in Swansea.

“I love watching them but when Olly introduced me I didn’t know what to say and was stuck for words because I get so tongue tied,” she admitted.

Gogglebox

The star is protective of Vickyi who does not even like speaking on the stage at Coleford Music Festival but told her it was time for her to come out of her shell for Gogglebox.

“It’s different because there isn’t anybody else in the room and it’s all about Olly because that’s who they are interested in,” she said of the TV show.

“It feels really nice sitting there together eating snacks, drinking Prosecco and enjoying each other’s company, but I don’t think I have anything really  interesting to say.

“You are thinking ‘should I be on my best behaviour because I’m on tele or should I be like I am at home?’. There is a little conflict going on in your head but it’s really good fun.

“It’s weird watching yourself back,  seeing what you do, what you sound like and the faces you pull. I didn’t realise I pulled so many weird faces.”

Every week she has to decide on a comfortable top for sitting on the  sofa and says they did initially consider getting matching onesies and really mad slippers but decided against it.

She shares TV tastes with her son who loves programmes such as Killing Eve and Stranger Things and Fleabag. They also love Gogglebox, especially Rylan Clark Neal and his mother and Chris Eubank and his son. She was delighted when Rylan sent a lovely message to Olly about her.

“If Olly likes something I will give it a go because I know I will probably like it,” she says. “I would never have watched Love Island if Olly hadn’t watched it. “

Staying true to yourself

Before the Years and Years single Communion catapulted the band into into the charts, Vicky had another important phone call from the Shine singer.

“He said they didn’t want him to say he was gay and he was really cross about it because didn’t want to pretend to be something he wasn’t” she said.

“I told him to stick to his guns, that you have to be true to yourself for anything to be real. I have taught them that if they are kind, truthful and respectful to other people, everything else will follow.”

Olly took her advice and when she first went to Glastonbury to see him burst onto the John Peel stage in 2015 wearing a rainbow, Pride suit he was involved in a very public relationship with Neil Milan from Clean Bandit who were playing the Pyramid stage.

Although in  pop star mode he is happy to speak openly about his own sexuality and  ongoing struggles with anxiety, Olly also admits that the fairytale of fame and fortune has not proved the antidote to depression and he remains a leading advocate for mental health issues.

In fact Gay Times described him as one of the most influential gay pop stars of this generation and added: "All hail the King!”

Glastonbury 2019

Vicky was astounded by how big it has become since the days she used to go and got lost for hours on the first night after deciding to camp for the weekend.

On Sunday Olly arranged for Vicky, her partner Kev and Coleford Mayor Nick Penny to go backstage and then watch from the Pyramid Stage balcony as he gave a widely-applauded, eloquent moving speech marking the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall riots.

Many say the speech appealing for compassion and a society that does not leave anybody behind was the highlight of the festival.

“It’s not the best view because you cannot see what’s happening from the front, but just to be there looking  out from the stage and seeing all those thousands and thousands of people who are all there to see Years and Years and Olly, well it was just mesmerising,” she said.

“That whole feeling of emotion, the pride, It’s like when you see your child in a nativity play but  a million times over.

“I knew he was going to make a speech and I knew that knowing Olly it was going to be special, but I did not  did not know the content or when he was going to say it.

“I was just so proud and when I got home I had to watch it over and over again.”

“I cannot believe how brave and strong Olly is about what he believes in. I admire that in him so much and have so much respect for him to be able to do that.”

The feeling is mutual and Olly has repeatedly spoken about how proud he was of his mum to speak so openly about his childhood in the documentary even though she is not to blame for his troubles.

Olly takes care of his family

Although he spends long periods touring with the band, when he is in London Olly has a small set of friends from home who he has known since primary school which Vickis believes it is good for his sanity.

He recently spoke about how good it has been going from being too skint to go out to be able to help his family out financially and pay for the drinks on a night out.

Thanks to Olly buying her a new house Vicky has moved from the small cottage in the centre of Coleford where she would get the odd knock on the door from Years and Years fans pretending to be looking for a non existent neighbour.

Speaking to her it’s clear that have a famous child is not too much different than having any other. You always feel guilty, you are very proud of their achievements, you want them to happy, you worry about them being safe and you lose your name. At one festival she spotted a flag saying “Olly’s Mum”, something parents all over the world can identify with.

“As a parent I think you always feel guilty, but  I’m proud that Olly has grown into this amazing human being,” says Vicki who has been on a journey alongside her famous son.

“It’s such an amazing thing to have happened that to try and get your head around it all is impossible, so you don’t bother.

“Lots of people ask about him and say things like  – ‘your boy’s doing well’ and I think ‘just a bit’. On the whole though, life just carries on as normal.”

[remasteredinnuendo]

Blue Bayou Part III

Synopsis: Ben is nervous as he prepares for Bohemian Rhapsody. But just as he thinks nerves will get the best of him, he’s introduced to a woman who might just be the muse he needs. Inspired by the song Blue Bayou by Linda Ronstadt

Warnings: insecurities

Info: There is one more part to this fic after this one! This one and the next have a time skip

Part III:

After dreading this very moment for months, the day had finally come. And Ben just couldn’t do it.

He sat on stage at Live Aid behind the drum kit and couldn’t make a single beat. It was the very first day, and if impressions were everything he was really mucking it up. Everyone in costumes had made sure he looked as like Roger Taylor as possible, but making him feel and act like Roger was something entirely up to himself.

The scene was set. Lucy was dressed as Mary and standing in the wings alongside a man made up as Jim Hutton. Joe and Gwilym were off to the side with Brian May, learning a few secrets. The King of Queen himself was present, sat on the piano bench and thinking quietly to himself; in the form of the brilliant Rami Malek. The only one unable to grip the situation was Ben.

He had lost track of how many times the director had yelled cut! Couldn’t bring himself to recall how many glares he had gotten when the scene had to be reset. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. For an actor, he had gotten everything he could’ve wanted; first-hand accounts from Roger Taylor himself, shadowing the drummer and spending time with him. He had gotten pointers and advice from the rock star.

And still it felt like he knew nothing.

Ben’s palms were sweaty, making it difficult to grip the drumsticks. His fingers couldn’t stop shaking, so every time he hit the canvas it reverberated all wrong. His knee couldn’t stop jumping, and the wig kept getting in the way. Nothing was going the way he thought it would.

“What’s gotten into you?” a voice asked in a whisper.

He turned his head, mouth dry, and found none other than Roger himself. The man stood in a black dress shirt with jeans, black sunglasses over his eyes. And though his sunglasses covered him well, it was easy to spot the concern in his brows. In the gentle lines of his face.

“I….” Ben didn’t have an answer.

How was he supposed to say that he was just as afraid now as he had been the very first day of production? How was he supposed to tell him that no matter how much mentoring he received, he didn’t feel like he could do this role justice? How could he tell Roger Taylor that he thought he had nothing more to prove, but now felt like he had been wrong?

Roger understood the silence. He gave a small nod, like he could read his thoughts, and turned around with his hand in the air. “Can we have a twenty minute break?” he called out.

The producers spoke into their headsets before giving him a thumbs-up, and he looked over his shoulder. Gave Ben a sympathetic smile. “Go clear your head. Remind yourself that you’ve got this.”

Without waiting for a reply, Roger walked to the wings of the stage to confer with Brian. Everyone else pretended not to notice the panic that seemed to cling to Ben. He was glad they tried to avert their eyes as he rushed off the stage, breezing by Rami and Joe when they tried to speak to him.

He was at the lot of trailers faster than he thought possible, swinging open the door to his own and slamming it behind him. He got himself a glass of water and sat on the sofa, trying to think about why this was so hard.

After all the time he had spent building his confidence, it was all for shit. He was back to quivering in his own skin, imagining the headlines that would come out when the movie did. They’d say he was just a pretty face. Say that’s how he got the job, and how he bombed it in every other aspect. Pretty as Roger, but with no talent.

It made his head spin.

Made his heart pound.

The beats in his chest were almost in time with the three knocks that rapped against the trailer. Ben froze at the sound, holding his breath. He waited for the voice of Roger, telling him to come out. Waited for a producer to say they needed to talk. But when there was another knock and no voice, he stood. Wiped his hands on his thighs before opening the door.

Emmy stood on the ground, at the bottom of the stairs. She had her hands in the pockets of her big sweater, her long hair twisted away from her neck with a broken pencil. She met his expression of confusion with one of delight.

“Hey there,” she said, voice softer than any of his thoughts. “I saw you come out here and thought I’d see if you’re all right.”

Emmy had been on set nearly every day, and before filming had even begun they had seen lots of each other. That day in the studio, where Roger and Brian had introduced them all to one another, had only been the first moment of many. Any time the group went out, she was there, too.

“Thank you,” Ben said, clearing his throat and trying to gain his composure back. “I, uh…would you like some tea?”

“That would be lovely,” she decided with a nod, and he moved out of the way to let her inside, closing the door behind her.

Emmy made it to the kitchen area first, pulling two mugs from the cupboard and putting the kettle on. Like she knew he didn’t want her to see his hands shake. He was grateful to her, and sat down again on the sofa where he had been before. Watched her get to teabags out and the bowl of sugar before she came to sit in the chair next to him.

“You look great out there. Just like the real Live Aid,” Emmy said, trying to hold his gaze.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her too long. “Except during the real Live Aid, Roger could actually play the drums.”

“You can do it, too, if you breathe.”

Ben’s mouth twitched up into a smile. One of the first group outings they had with her, shortly after that day at the studio, had been to a big fancy dinner. It was a party, really, thrown by Brian where his wife had made up the dinner table for everyone to eat. Ben had been so nervous, poking at his coat with fear it wasn’t up to the standards of rich living. He couldn’t even speak to anyone without fumbling with his words. And Emmy had come up to him with a glass of wine. Winked at him and told him that he fit right in. The only piece of advice she gave was, remember to breathe.

They had attended a fashion show with Roger and one of the directors of the film, and Ben again felt out of place. Imagined himself sticking out like a sore thumb. Emmy had come to the rescue yet again. Placed her hand on his arm and said for him to breathe, to stop worrying about what other people thought about him and worry about enjoying himself. She had taken him back stage where the drinks were better, and they could sit and talk without such a big crowd.

“I’m trying to,” Ben answered, thinking about all those times she had come to save him. “But I don’t think I can do this. The film, I mean.”

“Says who?” Emmy questioned, leaning back in her chair as the kettle boiled on its stand.

He could feel the dare in her voice. “I don’t want to be the one to screw up the entire film. Everyone else is so perfect and I—”

She gave him a small smile as she shamelessly cut him off. “Rami came to me a few days ago, held my hand, and said, ‘I don’t know if I’m doing this right. I want to do your father proud’. Joe spilled tea down his front last week at his last costume fitting for Live Aid and said, ‘I knew I was going to do something wrong’. Gwilym couldn’t remember the riff Brian taught him and sat in a corner with the guitar on his lap, just staring at it for a few hours.”

Ben was silent, half tempted to laugh at her half-hearted attempt at truth and amusement.

“I had Roger and Brian over for breakfast just yesterday morning at my place, and I cried,” she confessed, voice a bit more serious now. “I cried because no matter how many takes I did of Freddie’s favourite song, I felt so scared that he wouldn’t be proud. That if one note didn’t flow, I’d be letting both my dad’s down.”

“You sing beautifully,” Ben said under his breath.

Emmy reached across the coffee table and took his hand, and he knew she had heard him. “And you are a natural at acting. None of us are perfect, Ben. All of us are afraid. But it can build you up instead of tear you apart, if you let it.”

He looked down at their joined hands and couldn’t stop himself from rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles. They had been strangers not too long ago. And then they had gone out and he had made her laugh. She had made him smile. He recalled how nervous he had been just to be in the same room as her. And remembered all those times she had made him feel brave.

She had helped him during those outings when he felt like he couldn’t breathe. But as he became more comfortable with Roger and Brian being around, and not worrying so much about the film and what he couldn’t bring to it, it was him shaking peoples’ hands first. And that was new.

Once, when they were all dressed up at an estate for tea, going over a few scenes and getting last pointers from the rock stars and Queen family members, Ben had lifted her wrist and looped her arm through his. The confidence had come a little bit easier then, after so long. And he had taken Emmy out the back courtyard, and through the gardens, to where he had seen a pond. One he thought was so beautiful that he just had to share it with his new friend.

And every day he silently thanked her for making him feel like he didn’t have to become better. He was always good enough.

“I’m making such a big fuss over nothing,” he sighed, shaking his head at himself.

The kettle switched off, and Emmy pulled away to stand and pour the water into the mugs. “It’s not nothing. If it’s bothering you, it matters.”

“I just thought I was over this nervousness. Over this fear of needing to prove something.”

Emmy’s eyes were filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite read as she handed him the tea with milk and two sugars, sitting beside him instead of going back to his chair. “You’re pretty.”

The statement almost made him choke on his beverage.

And as he sputtered, working out something to say, she laughed. Like silver bells. “No, I mean you’re pretty. Everyone sees it. And if anyone were to deny it, they’d be lying.”

He wiped the tea that dribbled down his chin, still unable to respond to her. She was so blunt that it was comical, but he knew that this was just how she was: honest, ready to dive headfirst off the cliff into the waiting waters below.

“But that’s not why you got the part,” Emmy clarified, managing to suppress her giggles at his reaction. “You got the part because you bring everything to the table. You lied about being able to play the drums, but the director kept you still— not because you were pretty, but because you’re too perfect for the part to let go simply on a technicality. Do you get it yet?”

Ben suddenly felt embarrassed. He had been thinking that no one could see how nervous he was, and he was suffering alone; but Rami was playing goddamn Freddie Mercury. He was terrified. Joe was playing John fucking Deacon. He was nervous. Gwilym was giving life to a young Brian May. He was scared. And here he was, shaking to himself as he imagined what the reporters would say about how his looks didn’t match his ability to act.

“You can’t please everyone,” she told him softer this time, bumping his shoulder with his. “So finish your tea, and we can both go back to that stage where you’ll take a deep breath behind that drum kit. And after you do that, you’ll forget all your worries and smash it.”

Of all the fleeting moments they had shared over the last few months, this was Ben’s favourite. I’m sorry, he wanted to say. But he changed it in his head to, thank you.

And as Emmy smiled at him, he never felt more confident in his life that he could walk out of this trailer and get the scene done on the very next try.

When she looked down, a flush in her cheeks, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

But one thing at a time: he needed to kick ass at Live Aid first.

[angrylizardjacket]

don’t @ me {Joe Mazzello}

Anon asked: Hi there! You write the best imagines and your my favorite queen blog 💛 if you're not too busy I'd like to request something? Idk something with Joe and like your dating and the whole cardboard ben thing is playing out and the reader is playing along in the comments and stuff idk I just really need some dorky Joe fluff please and thank you for your time! 😊

Anon asked: please write a joe mazzello imagine one day soon !!

A/N: 1781 words. Anon, today is that day. Joe is v cute and I love him but also this video gives me mad anxiety for reason’s I’m not 100% sure about, but nyways i watched it like 12 times. I know very little about press tours and who goes on them, I also know very little about Joe, but I tried! Suspend your disbelief.

“Why do you have a cuttout of Ben?” It’s breakfast, and far too early to be met with the frozen stare of a cardboard version of Ben Hardy staring at you across the kitchen table. He’s there anyways, propped up in an unoccupied seat, silently judging you as you drink your tea.

“Because he can’t make it on the press tour.” Joe tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, moving about the kitchen, fixing himself breakfast.

“He’s watching me.” The cardboard Ben’s stare is unbroken and unnerving. You stand abruptly, moving it from it’s place at the table, so it was looking at the wall, and you hear Joe laugh behind you. “He’s creepy,” you insist, but he doesn’t disagree with you.

“Ben’ll be heartbroken.” Joe’s taken your seat, and so you sit in the one you’d just freed up, pulling your drink across the table, taking a long sip before giving Joe a long suffering smile.

“Honey, I don’t think real-Ben is going to care about what I think of his cardboard double.” You told him, and Joe raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

“Oh, yeah no, he won’t care, he might be offended you called him creepy,” he talked over your objections with a smile, “but you’ve hurt poor Ben Cardy’s feelings, babe.” Gesturing to the cardboard behind you, trying not to grin if the edges of his lips twitching gave anything away.

“Ben Cardy?” You repeated, disbelieving. He just raised his eyebrows at the thing behind you. You turned around, suspicious, and still a little on edge from the new arrival. It had not moved. Thank God. Joe just laughs.

Cardboard Ben becomes a hit on social media, a fact that was unsurprising to you; something that obviously memetic with all the boys’ support behind it was bound to take off. Now that you were used to it (him?) you thought it was pretty damn funny.

“Oh, what about one of us at the piano.” Rami’s eyes had lit up at the sight of the Bohemian Rhapsody piano, and Joe, who had been handed the crown from the the publicist to take some promotional shots of the cast at this screening, propped up Cardboard Ben behind the piano.

Rolling your eyes at the shenanigans, you obligingly wait for Joe  to put the crown on and situate himself on Rami’s lap before taking the photo. Passing the phone back, you take the crown from him, wearing it while you collected Cardboard Ben.

“You look good like that.” You’re trying to fold the cutout so you could carry it under your arm when you hear Joe’s voice. Looking up, he’s smiling at you, phone in his hands like he’s halfway through writing something on it. At your confused look, his smile widens just a little more and he looks to the crown sitting on your head. It had been heavy before, on your head out of ease rather than comfort, but under his admiring gaze it feels as light as air.

“Strap in Ben, mate.” The video, hand-held and shot on Gwilym’s phone, shows Joe leaning across the back set of a nice-looking car, trying to buckle in Cadrboard Ben, who was had a checkered scarf wrapped around his neck.

“Don’t make it too tight!” Your voice can be heard from off camera, clearly trying not to laugh, and in the brief moment Joe looks to you, he’s grinning brightly, assuring you he wouldn’t, before turning back and finally clipping in the belt buckle.

You sit beside Joe in the back seat once the video’s been posted, with him in the middle, Cardboard Ben still strapped in on his other side. All of you in the car, that is all of you who weren’t driving or cardboard, were on Instagram, replying to the comments, having a laugh as you rewatched the video a few times.

@.username1: i wish someone would love me like they love that cut out

@.username2: even @.YourInstagramHandle worries about him 😍😍

@.YourInstagramHandle: @.username2 i’m just worried about what happens if he’s not buckled in 😬😬

@.benhardy1: @.YourInstagramHandle im glad you and @.joe_mazzello are keeping me safe

@.joe_mazzello: @.benhardy1 always, buddy!

@.YourInstagramHandle 😬😬

Gwylim, from the front seat, can hear you laughing, and when he turns back, you’re leaning against Joe and the two of your are looking at your phones, wearing identical mischievous grins. When he posts a photo of the two of you beside a still buckled in cut out, to said cut-out’s instagram story, he captions it ‘I feel like I’m 3rd wheeling here.... @.YourInstagramHandle @.joe_mazzello’. 

Everyone loves the joke, and since no-one’s really sure where the Real Ben is, you can all keep getting away with it. With everyone playing along, it becomes a quickly growing phenomena, which comes to an interesting pinnacle on Thursday, November 15th.

“So I’ve had an idea.” Joe looked at you where you were scrolling through Instagram on your phone with one hand, sipping a drink in the other. You hadn’t kept Cardboard Ben in your hotel room since the start of the tour, which you were thankful for, but it seemed to be your turn. It still unnerved you, but it was currently facing the wall, and not staring unblinkingly at you, which you were thankful for.

Humming in both question, and recognition of the statement, you look to see him suppressing a smile. He starts explaining his idea for a video, of waking up next to the cardboard cut out, and you know that your expression is one of dawning horror, though that only seems to inspire him further.

“That sounds ridiculous.” You admit once he’s finished, and he actually laughs.

“I know, but it’s- it’s funny, come on.” And his earnest enjoyment from the concept has you cracking, a smile spreading over your face, unable to help the laughter that escaped you.

“That you fucked Cardboard Ben?” You asked, putting your tea down and raising your eyebrows at him.

“Yes!” He insisted, and despite your eye roll, you were grinning, already moving to collect the cut out.

“Where do you want him?” You asked, and Joe’s smile brightened, before he wiggled his eyebrows. “This is already weird enough; just tell me where you want him.” You moved to the bed, pulling back the covers to put the cardboard figure in the bed.

“Perfect, perfect!” Joe seemed ecstatic as you pulled the covers back up, leaving Cardboard Ben in bed.

“Do you want me to tuck you in, too?” You asked, raising a single eyebrow, voice faux sweet as you picked up your tea and stepped away from the bed. Giving you a sunny smile, he ignored the sarcasm and informed you that he’d probably be alright, pulling out his phone.

Leaning against the wall where you had just taken Cardboard Ben from, you watch in amusement as he begins to film, pretending to wake up, before turning both himself and the camera so that he caught sight of the cardboard. Instead, he caught sight of your fond but amused expression, and he was lost for a moment.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He admonished, though he was smiling a little softer than before. 

“Like what?” You asked, half laughing, and Joe just shook his head, a little disbelieving, before turning back over and starting the video again. When he turns back, you’ve got your own phone out, and are taking a photo of the situation, to which he laughs.

‘@.benhardy1 aka Mr Steal Yo Man’ you captioned the photo on your instagram story. With you focused on your own phone, Joe managed to film most of his video before you heard him talk about how Cardboard Ben was already dressed, and you lost it, barking out a laugh and interrupting his filming.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” You apologised profusely through giggles, though Joe too broke into a grin, stopping the recording. “I’ll go into the next room.” Stepping through to the main room, you waited by the doorframe as you listened to your boyfriend pretend to wake up next to a cardboard cut out of one of his co-stars. As soon as he muttered about knowing that he’d call, there’s a long paused, and then he snorts out a laugh, and you’re pretty sure it’s safe to go back in.

He’s grinning, sitting against the headboard and you can hear his rough, sleepy voice coming through the speakers of his phone. Cardboard Ben is still where you left him, looking up at the roof.

“Is it good?” You asked, and he hummed thoughtfully, still amused at his own antics.

“It’s not terrible,” he admitted, “I think it’s funny.” And he passed the phone over to let you watch it, and you slid yourself into the bed beside Cardboard Ben. It was funny, you’d give him that, and you passed the phone back to let him finish adding tags and posting the video. As the video went live, a thought occurred to you, something that amused you to no end.

“Hey, come here, I wanna get a photo of the three of us.” You grinned, sliding down under the covers until they came up to your shoulders, then holding up your phone so you could catch yourself, Joe, and the cut out in the photo.

The shot was staged so that Joe and the cut out looked into the camera, Joe looking a little concerned, while you looked off to the side, expression clearly uncomfortable. You added the photo to your instagram story with a simple ‘😮’ as the caption, tagging both Joe and Ben in it.

“It still creeps me out.” You admitted, pulling the cardboard cut out from the bed and putting it face-down on the floor, moving to rest against Joe, still sitting in bed. He wrapped an arm around you.

“Yeah, but you’re a good sport about it.” He pressed a kiss to the edge of your forehead, scrolling through the comments that were flooding in already on his video.

“Of course, I love you, Joe, I’ll always play along.” You tucked yourself up closer to him, going through your own feed with mild interest. He gives you a soft squeeze, and when you look at him, he’s smiling fondly down at you, a look so full of love and adoration that it makes your heart melt a little. “It’s- it’s just a cut out, I mean.” You flush under his gaze, ducking your head to avoid the softness of his smile and how it made a warmth bloom in your chest.

“No, I know.” He laughed gently, going back to his phone. “I just love you too.”

[jeff-stillcoolasazombie]

The Waiter and the Hotel Heiress - Chapter 3

Rating: K+

Length: 1554 words

Also read on AO3

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS! This chapter isn’t my favorite; it is very much an establishing plot/ bridge chapter, which is why it’s so much shorter than the others. BUT I have BIG plans for my next ones. Also anyone familiar enough with the film Eloise at Christmastime will notice here (and in the next few chapters) that I rearranged some scenes, what things happen when. But I did this so that each of Eloise’s stories coincides somehow with the flashback story, if that makes sense. Anyway, hopefully I can have the next chapter done and posted fairly quickly, but in the meantime, here’s a holiday present.

PS: I hope y’all can figure out who Hans’s friend is supposed to be based on the name I gave him.

Chapter 3: Inquiries

“Anna?” Hans’s voice called in the distance. He walking into the dress parlor, a place men normally dared not go unless they absolutely had to. The audacity he had coming in here, Eloise thought. Trying to sneak a peek at the bride?

Anna rushed down from the podium. “Oh, I better get out of this dress,” she said to no one in particular. The seamstress led her over to the changing panel to help her undress. “Just a minute,” she called out to Hans once she saw his silhouette had gotten close enough. “You remember Eloise, don’t you, Hans?”

Hans disguised his sour expression upon seeing the child sitting there. “Of course, how could I forget such an angelic face?” he said, feigning charm. Eloise gave a half-hearted acknowledgement with a fake smile.

Hans leaned toward the dressing panel to talk to Anna better. “I just wanted to tell you, darling, that I’m off to lunch with a colleague of mine. I’ll come back by the room when I’m done.”

And after an agreeing comment from Anna, Hans was off to the Plaza cafe to meet his friend.

Eloise was still tremendously suspicious of Hans. She knew there was something not right, that he wasn’t worthy of Anna the same way Kristoff was. Still, if she was going to convince them of that, Eloise would need to find a legitimate reason for why Hans wasn't a good fit. And she figured that since she so far was the only person skeptical of Hans, it should be up to her—Eloise—to set things right.

She figured spying on his lunch was her perfect chance. She said goodbye to Anna, assuring her they would cross paths again, and then headed to the kitchen.

Eloise knew she couldn’t be too obvious with her spying. She decided to enlist the help of the head chef Patrice, a snobby French man who had the patience for the girl’s antics only sometimes. Her plan was to hide under a dessert cart and have Patrice wheel it out as bribery for Hans and his friend. It was perfect because if Hans was the type of entitled jerk that Eloise thought he was, he would think nothing of being offered free dessert from the hotel.

Patrice surprisingly obliged.

He took out the kitchen tray that was full of delectable cakes freshly baked that morning for display purposes. “Desserts, gentlemen. Compliments of the hotel,” the chef said when he got to their table. “I’ll give you a few moments to decide.” And he stepped aside to head back to the kitchen, knowing Eloise was in prime position to eavesdrop.

Once certain they were alone, Hans’s friend guffawed. “You’ve really got them wrapped around your finger,” he said with a laugh.

“I know,” Hans replied. “Anna is one thing, I never figured her father would be so easy.”

A pause and then the friend asked in a whispered tone, “How’d you do it?”

Hans leaned in closer to the table, and said in a lowered voice, “Borrowed money all across the country, made it look like I had my own fortune, so I couldn’t possibly be after Anna’s.”

“And they really don’t suspect anything?” His friend sounded happily astonished.

The charm arose in Hans’s voice. “I figure once we’re married, I’ll use her money and pay everyone back.” His friend began laughing incredulously again. “No, no, seriously, Wes. She’ll even end up paying for her own engagement ring.”

Eloise almost leaped out from under the dessert cart and screamed upon hearing Hans. She had to fight to stay silent and not blow her cover until Patrice returned for her.

But this was confirmation of what she’d suspected. Hans didn’t love Anna at all! He was just using her for her money!

What a villainous fiend!

But the six-year-old knew that even if she told anyone of Hans’s nefarious motives, no one would believe her. She was just an imaginative, precocious little girl with a knack for well-intended mischief.

The only thing Eloise could do was ensure that Anna ended up with a man who actually cared for her, who loved her, and then Anna would marry that right man instead. And that man was clearly Kristoff.

----

FIVE YEARS EARLIER

The next day after the late night piano lesson with Anna, Kristoff asked as many employees as he could about their experiences with the heiress. Each one had something different to say.

Miss Anna had been living at the Plaza since she was a little girl, said the housekeepers. She was attending an elite private school in the city until recently. Now she studied French and Spanish from a private tutor, among other subjects.

The kitchen staff said her favorite food was chocolate. You wouldn’t know that from her room service orders, but she always snuck some whenever she was in the kitchen.

The bellhops said that there weren’t many people outside of the Plaza that she was friends with; the Plaza was basically her entire world.

And yet for as much as Kristoff learned about the heiress, no one seemed to have any experiences with her similar to his own from the day before. There was genuine positivity and praise all around towards Anna, comments that she was always helpful and kind, but only ever that. Nothing more personal, whether because the rest of the staff knew how to maintain professional relationships with their employer’s family or because Anna was more keen on distancing herself.

“Perhaps she is more drawn to you,” Robert said to Kristoff after noticing his inquiries, “because you two are so close in age.”

Kristoff gave the older waiter a confused look. “There is no one else in her personal life she can hang out with?”

Robert shook his head. “The only person she was ever close to was her cousin Elsa, but she stopped visiting when Anna was around ten. And now that Anna does all her schooling here, she really doesn’t get out much.”

“Why doesn’t she just go out and make her own friends outside of the hotel?” Kristoff was absolutely flabbergasted that the heiress would willingly seclude herself.

Robert chose his words carefully. “Mr. Arendelle is very protective of his daughter, and he doesn’t want her philandering around the city. At least in the Plaza, he knows everyone and everything going on.”

“Seems like she’s a princess in a tower,” Kristoff said quietly. He knew it would be better for his job if that opinion stayed his own.

Robert assured him that wasn’t the case. “If it’s a tower, Anna has her free run of it. She loves the Plaza with all her heart.”

And Anna loved the people who worked at the hotel as much as she loved the hotel itself, but she clearly had her favorites. As the weeks went on Kristoff observed Anna’s behavior around certain employees.

She preferred Michael out of all the bellhops because he would let her pack and push the luggage trolleys with him.

Even though she wasn’t allowed in the lounge, her favorite bartender was Joe because he would give her a cranberry soda during his shifts.

She loved Ms. Thompson at the front desk because she played punny word games with her.

And very quickly, Kristoff became her favorite waiter. After his first week of serving her breakfast as a new employee, she kept requesting Kristoff specifically. It might have been a bigger deal if Jerry, who normally did that, minded more, but he just went about his work like it was nothing.

Kristoff on the other hand couldn’t keep from analyzing the change. While he consistently enjoyed Anna’s company, he needed to be aware of crossing any boundaries. He was still at work, still a new hire. He didn’t want to do anything that would send him to the manager’s office for a scolding. He always tried his best to treat Anna like he would any other guest or resident.

But that was easier said than done when everyday Anna would sneak a note onto Kristoff’s room service cart. At first it would be a message saying to meet her at this place at this time. But as their late night meetings became more of a sure thing, her notes became less specific and more personal. Sometimes they were just thoughts in her brain that she wanted to share, other times it was a question about Kristoff’s own life and interests.

“White lights are my absolute favorite Christmas decoration.”

“Have you ever listened to the Oklahoma! musical album? I’ll make sure to play it when you come tomorrow.”

“Yesterday I learned the Greek myth about the constellation Andromeda. I really must tell you about it sometime.”

“Do you miss life in the mountains? Because I think living in the city is grand!”

At first Kristoff wondered at the purpose of these non sequiturs; why was Anna telling him these things? But after a while, he grew to expect it, grew to enjoy her randomness. He delighted in answering any of her questions during their nightly piano sessions. He also found he was getting pretty good at playing as well.

Eventually, all the employees began to associate the two together. Anna could always rely on Kristoff, and Kristoff would do anything for Anna.

He was her mostly companion.

[nowitsdarkfic]

creatura della notte // a joey imagine

Started this the other night before the power went out, and then picked up last night. Enjoy 😘😘😘

⚠️ Big fat risqué content warning ⚠️

“Then if anything grows while you pose, I'll oil you up and rub you down. And that's just one small fraction of the main attraction: You need a friendly hand and I need action!” -”Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me”, Susan Sarandon

He is the outsider of the band with his hailing from the lush backwoods of upstate, like a prince in his fitted black leather and lustrous kinky black hair. You would think he would be carrying a revolver in his high waisted stud belt, the gunslinger in search of the dark tower looming out from the dense banks of lake effect snows, but he never did brandish anything like that, at least not around you. Or so you believe. You don’t know.

The quintessential strong and silent type, his gaze steely and with the shrieking wail to accompany it, and yet you foresaw his inner silky soft nature. Something about him puts you at ease, even when he flashes a glare at the most unruly of audience members and throws his most guttural of vocals during “Armed and Dangerous”, “S.S.C./Stand or Fall”, and of course, “Raise Hell” which holds the most potent of moments wherein you find yourself curling your toes inside of your Chuck Taylors and your breath even stopping in place. You found yourself orgasming there with him, and yet you feel soft at the sight of him. Was it his big brown eyes? Was it his soft, smooth looking brown skin all over his svelte body? Or the fact he always behaved like a little boy when on stage with them?

You never could put your finger on it, especially when you had an actual moment with him in the back corridor of the concert hall. While on your way to the venue, you put in a little Steve Perry in your stereo and thus you had “Oh Sherrie” stuck in your head at that moment. You couldn’t help it: that first line slipped out from your lips once you rubbed rear ends with him in the bathroom line.You saw him out of the corner of your eye, but he already stepped away before you could continue in your inward singing. It was such an offhand moment but you wanted to hold onto it. You made a rush into the ladies’ room and then returned out when your hands were still dripping wet. He happened to be there outside of the lines, posted up on the other side of the hallway. Shaking your hands about, you wove your way through the people so as to reach him. He was exactly how you saw him in those paper magazines back home, except now he stood there, flesh and blood and without a drop of ink. “I couldn’t help but overhear you back there,” he said as part of his greeting, his fusion upstate Italian American accent smacking you right between the eyes, “that was the very first song I sang for Scott and Frankie in my audition.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a good song, isn’t it?”

“It’s beautiful. I wish I was there to hear you sing it.”

“Well, I might be singing it tonight when we play.” He flashed you a sly grin and a twinkle in his eye. “Keep your ears astute and your body even more astutely.”

You let out a light little giggle when he spoke again.“Are you here by yourself?”

“I am, yes.”

“Meet me at the backstage door,” he advised you following a lick of his lips, “after the show. If nothing, I can give you a private show—“ His voice trailed off and you filled in the blank. He repeated it for his own sake and for yours, and without another word, he ducked out behind the curtain like a creature of the night.

*************************

Following their one hour set, and riding the rail with the mind’s eye of lightning arising from the crowd, you bustled out of the concert hall and into the chilly New York midnight. You zipped up your coat as you made your way around the corner towards the backstage entrance. Charlie stood hunched near the door with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, his hair tied back in a taut ponytail, and his skin milky and opaque against the floodlights on the side of the building: you found him fearless given he wore no sleeves against teenage temperatures and a falling mercury, but it made sense from his diligence that evening.

“Ah, you must be the lady of the hour,” he greeted you, the devil’s cleft in his chin growing more prominent with his impending grin. He curled his index finger back so as to beckon you into the quaint little area, small and cramped but cozy in comparison to the frigid cold outside and the thrown elbows behind you. Scott’s stringy but long hair floated back from his head as he breezed past to the tiny water closet: before closing the door, he raised his thick black eyebrows at you to acknowledge you a greeting.

Frankie and Danny were pouring themselves a drink each, and then he entered the room from the door on the far end, his belt high up on his svelte waist and his shirt hanging around his body like a curtain of lace. He had tousled his black hair back out from his face and his neck; he greeted you with an unassuming smile full of prominent star’s teeth.

“Wow, that was quick,” he remarked, “here—come sit with me.”

The two of you had a seat on the shabby looking olive green sofa next to the refreshments table. Despite the bright sheen upon his neck and his cheeks, he smelled soft and clean, like he had just climbed out of the shower and dried off with haste, in time to meet you there.

“Would you like something?” he offered. “Cup of coffee? Prosciutto? Penne? Pro pens?”

“Pro pens?” echoed Danny, cracking a smile.

“Pro penis, Daniel,” Frank corrected. “It ain’t that pro, though, you guys,” he retorted, wagging his finger at them.

“Damn, Joe, you’re actually going there with our lady here?”

“Hey, at least it’s not all the way,” he pointed out, and Charlie and Frankie burst into a fit of laughter. You felt your face grow warm as you sank down there in lumpy cushion next to him. He then returned to you, with a warm rosy glow spanning over his face and his brown eyes glimmering as if a suggestion crossed his mind.

“So... tell me. What do you have with you? What’s your story?”

“Well, I have a new flat on the fringes of the Big Apple—I moved here from Chicago. I’m a musician.”

The door of the water closet opened and Scott stepped out; meanwhile, the other four men raised their eyebrows and tilted their heads forward.

“Y-You are?” Charlie choked out.

“Yes.” You showed them a sparkling smile because you know you uncovered a sweet spot.The five of them crowded around your shins like children awaiting a story from their wise grandmother.

“Go on,” he coaxed you in a low voice as he nudged closer to you against the lumpy back cushion.

“I drum and play piano.”

Danny and Frankie, both of whom were seated at your feet cross legged, erected their spines at the sound of that.

“Care for a jam session in the future?” suggested Scott. You gave them a modest shrug but you knew you wanted it to happen. “I can sing, too. In fact, he’s one of my favorite singers ever.”

That rosy glow flushed more with modesty: he glanced over at his band mates in hopes of figuring how to respond to that.

“Me?” he stammered.“Yes.”“No wayyyy.” He blushed even more, his brown skin flowing with that lovely warmth.

“Who else do you like?” Scott asked you.

“Well, let’s see, I also like James Hetfield, Ronnie James Dio, Janis Joplin, and Robert Plant.”

“We know you like Steve Perry, too,” recalled Danny.

“Well of course.”

“How ‘bout Geddy Lee?” he added.

“Geddy Lee or bust,” you replied; and with that, he took your hand for a delicate kiss on the back. He showed you a sweet, endearing smile, but it wasn’t smarmy or riddled with the type of sleaze you might expect from boys his age. The sight of his smile added a warm soft feeling to your heart, and a peculiar tingling sensation right in between your thighs.

“By the way... that is a gorgeous color for you,” he spoke out of the blue. You peer down at the rich oxblood red top underneath your coat. You opened your coat to show them the color in its entirety.

“Ooh, hot!” Frankie declared. Scott raised his eyebrows at you, while Charlie and Danny both checked you out. But he showed you a little smirk and a raise of one eyebrow. You began to think about it: you rubbed butts, he caught you singing a song that meant the world to him, and now he had this look upon his face like he was seducing you. The red shirt became the sole thing separating you from him.

*************************

You didn’t see him again after that, and in that time, you found a decent job at a nearby bar called Snarky’s in order to help pay your rent and everything in between. You still desired to play gigs and to show him what you had with you in your repertoire. You wanted to see him again, to be in his presence, and most of all, you wanted to feel his derrière again, to give it a nice hearty caress and maybe a squeeze or two. You wanted to know if he had the best butt you had rubbed against on accident ever.

It drove you crazy, in fact, the desire to feel him in your hand, to feel him pressed against your body. You wore a red button up silk shirt for your waitress job, and once happy hour rolled around, you let one button loose to show more skin and ultimately for more generous tips, and more tips all around. You thought about him, the possibility of seeing him again and perhaps turning the tables on him. The thought of him made you feel sexy, like you could enthrall anyone.

One night was slow in particular, and you were so bored out of your wits that you took out your bun to let down your hair: you actually thought the timers in the building would shut off all the lights in there because nothing was going on. You then took a seat behind the bar and thought about what to do next.

There were things to do in the bar, and in the back in particular, and God forbid anyone caught the new girl lounging around on the job. You stood to your feet and turned around in time to catch him standing right there at the bar with his hand on the back of the chair next to you. You had your face right in his chest. He had on a soft looking leather jacket over a black sweatshirt and denim jeans: sometimes baggy clothes are the best. Meanwhile, he had tousled his black hair to where most of it sprawled over his shoulders; he raised his little black eyebrows at the sight of you.

“Oh,” he gasped. “Hello. I didn’t think I would see you here.”

You chuckled and then clutched at yourself, which in turn brought attention to your chest and your collar bones. He nibbled on his bottom lip and slipped the tip of his tongue out before he cleared his throat.

“Um, have a seat,” he stammered. You collapsed back into the seat of the chair and kept your left thigh over the edge of the seat to bring attention to your crotch. He took a seat next to you and crossed his legs underneath the bar: you took a glimpse down at his belt and the baggy crotch of his jeans. He looked cozy, not the same dark prince you had in mind at first.

“You know, I’m a waitress here,” you began, “so what would you like, babe?”

“You got any pasta?”

“I think we do. I don’t know if our cook is in yet, but I can make some for you.”

“That’d be—kinda hot, actually.” His voice in conjunction with that Italian American accent was utterly erotic to you. You nodded and ducked out from the other side of the chair before he could make out the blush on your face. You rushed into the kitchen for the pot of water and some linguine. You could hardly believe it: you were making dinner for a boy, and a sexy boy at that, too.Once the water was just shy of one hundred degrees, you felt a tap on the shoulder. You peeked over your shoulder and he padded up behind you. He taken off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder with two fingers.

“Getting eager, are we?” you teased him.

“Maybe. It’s also kinda boring out there. You know, we’re the only ones here and whatnot.” He set the coat down on the metal rack near the stove. You watched him toss his hair back from his neck and chest, and you caught a jingling noise underneath his sweatshirt. Your curiosity piqued, you stuck your hands into the back pockets of your jeans to bring attention to your hips and your curves.

“So what’s your last name?” you asked him after clearing your throat.

“Belladonna,” he answered, his voice low and soft. “It’s actually Bellardini but I go by that one instead.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” You hovered in closer to his face; eyeing his chest, you considered running your fingers along his neck and to the buttons on his collar.

“You know—I have always found Italian Americans to be the most... sensual of Americans.”

“Oh, really?” He swallowed and nearly gagged on his own oxygen.

“I think your accent is sexy.”

The tip of his tongue caressed over the edge of his teeth, and you wanted to exchange saliva with him right there. You take a fleeting glimpse down at his body, slim and lithe, and yet you could sense his toned muscles underneath that sweatshirt. A soft clean aroma emerged off of his neck and his hair. There was something so delicate and comforting about him at the same time. Even standing there, you could tell he was a lush man of many colors and layers, all of which you wanted to experience under your tongue.

“The other part of me is Iroquois,” he almost breathed those words.

“Chief Italian Stallion—“ You take one hand out of your pocket.

“What say—uh—I take you home with me to Oswego?” You know he blurted that one out. You brought your lips closer to his, but you didn’t kiss him. Instead you placed your hand on that full hip: your thumb rested on the bone and he relaxed at the feeling. He had such voluptuous hips, a gentle curve that would look too effeminate on another man, but were sensual on him. You then recall that night.

“You have quite the booty,” you whispered into his face.

“Do I now?” He licked his lips as you reached behind him and lay your hand on his lower back for a moment before sliding it down.

“You’ve got it—real thick back here—like the rest of you is nice and slim, but—“ You put extra emphasis on “but” as you pulsed your fingers. He rolled his eyes back into his head before snapping the lids shut; he nibbled on his bottom lip once again. He swallowed and accompanied it with the tilt of his head to show you his neck and his Adam’s apple.

“Should you put the linguine in or should I do it?” he choked out; for a second, you misheard that as “lingerie”, but then you hovered closer to his face right as he let out an aroused gasp through gritted teeth.

“I’ll do it. You just relax and be the little slinky stud muffin you are back out front.” You gave his butt another gentle squeeze before letting go of him. He opened his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. You returned your attention to the pot of water with the rolling boil to pour in the pasta.

One dinner was up to par, you served the pasta in a big clean dish for him, accompanied with a generous amount of sauce, a light dusting of Parmesan cheese, and a slice of garlic toast. There was a part of you that wanted to join him there at the bar but a couple of patrons entered the place and you had to care for them.

Every so often, you moseyed on over to him to make sure he was enjoying himself.

“My compliments to the cook,” he told you in a throaty voice at one point before sticking a large twirl of linguine into his mouth.

When he had finished, you sashayed over to him for his plate; and he leaned back into his chair with his hands rubbing over his slim stomach.

“That was too good for words,” he confessed, shifting his weight. You show him a warm smile, and it dawned on you that you had your hair down the whole time. He must have taken your word for it because he showed himself to you, in all his preciousness and his softness. It was that moment you realized he was perfect: you couldn’t resist him any longer.

“I think my jacket is still—mmm, ‘scuse me—in the back there.”

“I’ll—uh, get it for you, big boy,” you whispered into his face again: you followed that up with a run of your tongue around the circumference of your lips. You knew you were succeeding in this seduction, and now you needed the cherry on top.

As you returned to the kitchen to put the dish on the counter and to fetch his coat, you were positive you had him in the palm of your hand. You picked the pile of soft leather off the shelf: before you turned around, you felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist. Fingers crept down the front of your trousers, onto the button. You recognized his olive skin as he unfastened the button. You turned to find him there before you with his chest heaving and his face flushed.

“Kiss me—“ you begged him.

“Only if you kiss me.”

You lay the coat back on the rack so to better lunge for him. You wrapped your arms around his delicate waist as he shoved his tongue right into your mouth. His chest heaved; his belly was soft and so warm from feeling full. You ran your fingers through his dark hair as you sensed his hands over your back: he was unhooking you.

You hoped no one would walk in on the two of you as you moved your head back to hear him breathe.

“You wanna go into the back room here, baby doll?” he whispered to you.

“Please,” you pleaded to him. He took you by the hand and led you into the small narrow nook of a back room, where you were met with a loveseat and a stack of boxes. You nudged the narrow door closed behind you, and without hesitation, he peeled off his sweatshirt. He had smooth, silky looking skin with a healthy kiss of brown, a deep strong looking chest, and a stomach as flat as an ironing board. You could feel that tingling sensation between your thighs again, and then you unfastened the buttons of your work shirt.

“Take it off,” he commanded, gesturing to your bra straps. You unhooked and let the straps fall down your arms. He lay down on the loveseat, on his back.

“My jeans are getting tight,” he confessed, “and not from the fact I made a complete pig of myself back there.”

You, however, let your pants drop down to the floor and you climbed on top of him. Your hair cascaded over his face and neck. Your chest hung right over him, and you could see your nipples tightening and hardening.

“What were you gonna do back there with the unbuttoning?” you asked him.

“Touch you. Like what I’m doing right now.”

You took a glimpse down at your waist in time to catch his fingers down your crotch.

“Spread eagle for me, baby—“

You straddled his waist so he could make a better, deeper caress into you. You gasped out at the feel of him stroking your clit—you didn’t realize his fingers were that long! You gasp and buck your hips at the feeling. You breathe heavily from the feeling, until you take a glimpse down at his waist. He’s getting hard.

“Go comatose for me, baby,” you breathed into his face.

“Gladly—“ he grunted through gritted teeth. You reached down to undo his jeans and peel back his underwear. So big and full.

“Wow—“ you gasped. “Italian Stallion.”

“Giddy up, cowgirl,” he challenged you as he continued to finger you. The tips of his fingers reached that dime sized bundle of nerves in your coochie and then you were ready. You moved your hips forward for a seat on his erection. You ground your hips around like you were churning butter.He gasped and groaned at the feeling. Every gyration of your hips led your closer and closer to the cowgirl he said you were.

“MOTHERFUCKING YEEHAW!” he shouted. You hushed him with a finger over his lips.

“What would the neighbors and patrons think?” you demanded.

“Let them—“ he growled. “Let them see us!” He threw his head back against the pillow of the loveseat.

“Oh God—oh fucking hell—“ He opened his eyes and parted his lips: his face was riddled with lust for you.

“Say my name,” he said in a husky voice.

“Huh?”

“Say my name!”

“Joey!”

“Louder!”

“Joey!”

“Louder, dammit!”

“OH JOEY!”

“YES!”

He gripped onto your hips and yanked you down onto the cushions. He lifted himself up over you, and straddled over your hips. His hair flooded over his shoulders, while his cheekbones filled out with the accompanying warm blush. His lips puckered up at the sight of your face.

“You’re cowgirl, I’ll be Indian,” he told you in a broken voice. You could sense it between you, especially with his hands on your hips like he was going to turn you over onto your face.

“Want me to roll over?”

“God, yes.”

He lifted up for you to roll onto your stomach: you protected your chest from the rough fabric of the loveseat with the backs of your hands. You felt his hands gently holding onto your hips. You spread eagle for him.He thrusted forward right into your clit. You gasped at the feeling, but on the second time you gave him a soft moan from the back of your throat. He thrusted again, and again; the smacking sound filled your ears. Every so often he let out a groan, but once your moans led to a loud squeal he gave away every inch of feeling within him to relish in every inch of you: he surrendered to the feeling.

“Hey—hey—okay—okay—!”

Another thrust, and that time it was the hardest.

“FUCK!” you shouted, and you felt yourself coming.He shrieked, a high piercing shriek with a vibrato as if he was singing.

“Okay—!” he choked out; he let go of your hips and yanked out. You fell onto your hands for a moment: you felt him climb off the loveseat and then he padded out of the back room for something. When he returned, you rolled onto your back. Your breasts poked out for him as he lunged towards you with his jacket in hand, but he slid in between you and the back of the loveseat. He cloaked you with his jacket and put his arm around your body: you know he did it to feel you and hold you close.

“That was—everything I wanted and then some,” you told him in a broken voice. “Shouldn’t we have a blanket other than your jacket?”

“Keep it, sweet cheeks,” he whispered to you, following it up with a low whistle. “God, you did that like a fucking pro.”

“That’s what I get for finding your dick so delicious,” you croaked out.

“What say—uh, you and I call it a night here and mosey back to New York in the morning,” he suggested, putting his arm around you.

“Sounds like a plan. It is closing time after all.”

He nestled closer to you with his fingers on your hip: he still felt full and soft as he pressed himself closer to you. Your eyelids grew heavy right then as the timers shut off all the lights for the night. Your hope was that he would continue to hold you when you awoke in the morning.

[forever-rogue]

Supercut - Part VI

Summary: Roger didn’t know how good he had it when Y/N was his. But when Y/N became Deacy’s, he realized he had messed up.

A/N: So, this is basically gonna be a whole flashback part. Just to avoid confusion! Y/N is still with our baby Deacy! Taglists are open! xx

Pairing: Joe Mazzello! John Deacon x Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: None...fluff, sexual innuendos

MASTERLIST

The One Where Y/N Meets Roger

Y/N tried to concentrate on the book and notepad in front of her, but it was no use. She should have known better then to try and study at the rehearsal studio were Deacy was currently bouncing around, trying to finish off a piece he was in the midst of composing. He had begged her to come along, for the company if nothing else, since the boys were otherwise occupied today and it would just be him. Sometimes the silence got to be too much, so he liked having her there as a sounding board. Plus being alone at the studio tended to be a boring event.

Y/N still hadn't met the rest of the band yet. They always seemed to be available when she wasn't and vice versa. But she had heard tons of stories about them and was eager to put faces to the names. Freddie, the boisterous and over dramatic frontman, Brian the brain who knew everything, and Roger the volatile and sex crazed drummer. What an odd mix of people she had always thought to herself, especially comparing them to Deacy, but somehow they made it work. And from all the music she had heard from, they all worked brilliantly together.

Y/N glanced up, sighing as she closed her book, putting in the notepad as a bookmark of sorts. She couldn't help but contain the smile on her face as she watched Deacy, tongue sticking out slightly, strumming away at his bass brow furrowed with concentration. She always had a soft spot for him and she often wondered if he had one for her, but she reckoned they were just friends. And besides that, she didn't want to ruin her friendship with him by confessing her unrequited love for him.

She stood as he continued to struggle, and glided over to him. He gave her a questioning look, but shook her head and she beckoned for him to hand her his precious bass.

"What are you going to do?" he questioned as she began to strum each string individual. She wasn't a bassist by any means, preferring to play the piano when she could, but she had picked out his problem, “be gentle!”

"You're slightly off. Your D string. It needs to be adjusted ever so slightly," she said as she tweaked the tightness of the thick string. He watched her nervously, this was his baby after all, but as soon as she was done and gave all the strings one big strum, the difference was noticeable.

"Y/N, you're amazing," Deacy responded with a huge smile as she handed the instrument back to him. She felt her cheeks flush lightly under his intense gaze, but she couldn’t help it. His hand lingered slightly longer then necessary on hers as he leaned in closer, "Y/N?"

"Yes?" her voice was barely above a whisper as the hair on her arms stood up in anticipation. Was this finally happening? Deacy was about to close the space between their bodies, but the two of them were interrupted by the sound of the doors slamming open.

She thought she heard him murmur a small fuck as he turned his attention to the door. Y/N cleared her throat and took a step back to study the intruders. They just had to ruin her perfect moment, the moment she had waited so long for. But her frown fizzled away as she quickly realized that they were his band mates.

"Darling Deacy! We've come to join you for some quality rehearsal time after all! The idea of you all alone here was too dreadful!" that was Freddie, no doubt about it, "and who is this lovely young lady you've got with you? Could it possibly be Y/N? The Y/N we've been hearing about for ages but haven't gotten to meet yet? So she wasn’t just a figment of your imagination!”

"Well, if I'm Y/N, that must make you Freddie," she said as she walked over to him, sticking her hand out for him to shake it. He gave her a dismal look and quickly pulled her in for a hug, causing her to let out a squeak of surprise at the gesture, "definitely Freddie."

"Indeed I am," he gave her a fond smile - he liked her already, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Deacy has not lied to us, you are every bit as lovely as he claimed."

"Thank you," she was sure her face was red as a tomato. She wondered how much Deacy had told them about her, but turned her attention to the other two men, "you must be Brian, and you must be-"

"Roger. Roger Taylor," he coolly interrupted her as he stepped up and shook her hand. He was a bold one, that was for sure. She cocked her head to the side as she rested her hand in his larger one, their touch lingering longer than necessary. It didn’t go unnoticed by the others, including Deacy.

“Well, Roger Taylor, the pleasure is all mine,” she said tried to avoid looking directly in his eyes. She knew if she met his eyes her expression would give away all of the racy thoughts that were running through her mind about the gorgeous blond drummer in front of her.

“I think it’s the other way around, love,” he smirked at her with a small wink. Behind her, Deacy was watching everything go down, his heart sinking a little further as a frown appeared on his face. He had finally gotten up the courage to tell her how she felt, but here was Roger. Coming to steal his moment and the love of his life.

“Like what you see, love?” Roger teased Y/N as she watched him finish getting ready. She was draped across the couch backstage, waiting for the boys to finish changing before they went out to an after party. She hadn’t realized how obviously she was starting at him, think she was being sneaky with her glances. He had spied her in the mirror, eyes focused on him as Brian, Freddie, and Roger chatted away, drinks already in hand, oblivious to their interactions.

“You wish, Rog,” she only stuck out her tongue at him, but her reddened cheeks gave her away. Roger smirked, happy to see the effect he had on her, “if I wanted to get with a dumb blonde, there’s plenty to choose from. You’re not exactly one in a million. There’s bimbos aplenty out there.”

“Oh, is that so?” he raised his eyebrow at her as he turned around and sauntered over to her. His pants were dangerously low on his hips and his shirt was still unbuttoned, exposing his toned torso. She subconsciously bit her lip at the sight, “you don’t have to lie to yourself, sweetheart. If you want it, you can get it. Besides, I’ve quite like to hear you moaning my name.”

“You think so highly of yourself,” she rolled her eyes and stood up, staring him down. He only chuckled, putting his hand on her waist. She thought about pushing him off, but she didn’t stop him, “you just think every girl wants you and will throw themselves at you. Well, I hate to break it to you, not this girl. Even if you were the last man on earth, I wouldn’t be moaning your name. Because I wouldn’t be with you. So dream on.”

“Don’t deny what we clearly have. Come on, love,” he moved closer to her, so he was practically whispering in her. She could feel his lips grazed her ear, as she lightly scoffed at him, but wanted to hear what he had to say, “go out with me? Let me take you on a date.”

“No,” she said softly, but still firmly, “I’m not interested, Rog. I think I’ve made that very clear.”

“Why are you lying to yourself?” he easily called her bluff, but she wasn’t about to let him know that, “just say yes sweetheart. Make it easy for both of us.”

“Even if I was interested and said yes, you’d just go out with me a few times, shag me, and then end up breaking my heart,” she shrugged her shoulders as she pulled out of his touch. He gave her a weird expression, somewhere between upset and annoyance, “I know how your type works, Rog. I’ve been there plenty of times before and I’m not going to do it again. I’m over lusting after men just for their looks.”

“You’re wrong, love,” he insisted, “I’m not giving up on you. I’ll get you to let me take you out sometime! And I’m way more than just looks!”

“In your dreams, Taylor,” she dismissed him with a wave of her hand as she went over to Deacy and Bri. She didn’t know it, but Deacy had a smile of satisfaction on his face; he had overheard the entire the conversation. It gave him some hope that he might still have a chance with her, “ready to go my loves? It’s time to cut loose and party!”

“It’s about time,” Bri huffed as he headed for the door, grabbing Freddie and Roger on the way. Y/N smiled at Deacy as she grabbed his hand and started to pull him along with her. His heart fluttered at the touch, and while he didn’t know it, so did hers.

“Come on you wanker,” Y/N called at Roger as he took his sweet time adjust his setup. The rest of the boys had all gone out to the nearby restaurant to grab some dinner. Y/N had promised them that she and Roger would catch up shortly. They had been hard at work in the studio all day, and by now she was ready for dinner. Not that she had done much, more so handing out both positive feedback and criticism to the boys as they worked on recording some new songs, “it’s late and I’m hungry!”

“Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a bunch!” he stuck his tongue out at her as he stepped out from behind his kit, twirling his drumsticks absentmindedly.

“The boys have already all left!” she huffed at him, lightly stomping her foot. He only chuckled at her as he walked over to her, but she only glared at him, “don’t give me that smug look, Rog.”

“Hey, you know what?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, slowly guiding her to the door. His grip was firm, but gentle and she couldn’t deny the feeling it sent through her body, “we’re all alone. Just you and me.”

“A very keen and astute observation,” she said sarcastically. It was his turn to roll his eyes at her. The two of them had been getting closer over the months, to the point where he would call her one of his best friends. But he wished she would be so much more, “what’s your point, Taylor?”

“We could just...stay here, alone,” he suggested and she jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, causing him to laugh, “come on, love, it was just a joke!”

“Of course it was,” she sighed dramatically at him. She too was falling more and more for him, every day. It was the lingering touches, the shameless flirting, and obvious sexual tension. Some days she was ready to grab him and crash her lips onto his, but she managed to hold back, although it was getting harder and harder with each passing day. But she could just see herself getting her heart broken, and she wasn’t ready for that, “let’s get going, they’re probably already wondering where we are.”

“We can let them wonder,” he said, his voice was low and husky, and she tried to ignore it. He moved his hand from her shoulder and put it around her waist, “we can go out by ourselves. Just me and you. Or are you still lying to yourself that you don’t want me?”

“Roger-”

“Come on, let me take you on a date finally,” he was almost begging her at this point. She was driving him crazy with everything she did and it was getting hard for him to keep his hands off her, “you’ve got me at your mercy here. Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rog,” she hushed him and his dramatics. He was always one for putting on a show, “you don’t need me. There’s plenty of other girls who’d be willing to have you. They’d get on their knees for you.”

“I don’t want them though,” he insisted and she stopped in her tracks. She knew he wasn’t lying though; his voice usually went up an octave or two when he did. But with Roger, there were so many factors to consider. It was more likely that she’d just end up hurt more than anything, but a part of her wanted to give him a chance, “I want you.”

“Fine...listen here, I’ll make you a deal,” she finally said after a few moments of hesitation, “if you think you’re still interested in me three months from now, I’ll go out on a date with you. Just one date and I make no promises as to what will happen. And no shagging.”

“Really?” he asked as his eyes light up at her plans. Three months seemed like an awfully long time, but he was willing to wait. He had already for her for this long, another few months would go by in a flash.

“Really,” she promised, “but remember - three months.”

“Consider it a done deal, love,” he promised her, kissing her cheek quickly before he could stop her. She blushed at the feel of his soft lips on her cheeks, but didn’t say anything either way.

For some reason, even though she was sure this date would never actually happen, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Deacy. She wondered how he would react. She wondered if he would ever make a move or if she should just do it. She thought of his magical laugh, and the adorable way his smile would spread across his whole face, the way he bounced around when he was playing. It always came back to Deacy for some reason. But unlike him, Roger was making a move, and at this point, that was what she wanted.

“Y/N, love, you know what today is, don’t you?” Roger’s face was a large grin as he entered the rehearsal space. She was currently lying on the couch, legs in Deacy’s lap as they took a break from their already hours long session. Brian and Freddie were off across the room, heads bent over a notepad as they scribbled away furiously, no doubt working on a new compositions. Both of their heads snapped in Roger’s direction as he came over to stand right in front of her.

“Uh...Thursday? Pretty sure it’s Thursday, anyways,” she asked as she raised an eyebrow at him. He shook his head, sitting down on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving hers. She racked her brain, trying to figure out what he was he hinting out. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black notebook, hoping it would explain everything. She opened it suspiciously, and just saw the date circled in red pen, a hastily scribbled note underneath - three months.

“It’s three months today, love,” he smirked at her as she straightened up and pulled her legs out of Deacy’s lap. She had all but forgotten about their little deal, figuring he wouldn’t actually revisit the situation, “you know what means, don’t ya?”

“What does it mean?” Deacy interrupted, all but forgotten as he sat there, head turning to look back and forth between them. What had he missed?

“Sweet little Y/N here made me a deal. She said, three months ago today, that if I waited three months to ask her out again and if I was still interested, she’d finally let me take her on a date,” he explained to the younger man and Deacy felt his heart fall. Y/N usually told him everything, but she had neglected to mention any of this, “it’s been three months, and I’m still very interested.”

“Alright Taylor,” Y/N said, handing him back his little ledger, “a deal is a deal and I’m a lady who honors her promises. You can have your little date. But remember - it’s only a promise of one date. No shagging. You only get to kiss me if it feels right, and trust me you’ll know.”

“Excellent,” Roger smirked as he leaned forward and ruffled her hair, “you won’t regret this. I’ve got everything planned already.”

“Really?” she and Deacy asked in unison, but Roger only smirked as he stood up and started heading for the door.

“Of course. I’ll pick you up at yours tomorrow evening at six,” was all he said before heading out and leaving the two of them by themselves. Y/N couldn’t help the small smile that was working its way onto her face. It was sweet actually - Roger had waited for. And already had a plan. It was so different than she could have ever imagined, and if she didn’t any better, she swore she could feel butterflies in her stomach.

“That’s a bit...surprising,” Deacy finally spoke after several moments of silence. Y/N turned to him, almost forgetting he was there, she had been so caught up in the moment. He felt like all the air had been punched out of his lungs. He knew he should have made a move all ready, but it still felt like a blow. His best friend going on a date with his other best friend. What a trip.

“I completely forgot about it. It was just something I told him to get him to leave me alone. I know his type, I’ve dated enough of them, as you well know,” she ran a hand through her hair as she turned to look at Deacy, “I’m surprised he remembered. I was sure he’d just find some other girls to date. That would be typical Roger, but this is unexpected.”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, staring intently at his feet, unable to bring himself to look at Y/N, “are you sure about this?”

“I don’t think anything bad will happen,” she shrugged her shoulders, but she could feel the weird vibes from Deacy, “besides, it’s just one date. What could possibly happen? If he tried to do anything weird, I’ll just punch. I’ve got a mean left hook.”

“Y/N, I want to tell you something-”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” they said at the same, and she awkwardly rubbed her arm, choosing to pretend she hadn’t heard Deacy, “I hope you’re not upset. I know he’s your best friend too. But remember, you’ve been my best friend for ages. And nothing will change that. I love you, Deacy, you know that.”

“I-I,” he could hardly speak, he felt himself getting choked up at her words. How easily I love you flowed from her lips. She loved him, but it was only like a friend, of course. How he wished he could have said those words back to her. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else, but stood up and rushed out of the rehearsal space, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. If nothing else, he didn't want her to see him cry.

Y/N was startled by his sudden departure, but didn’t go after him, even though her body was screaming at her too. She was rooted in place, torn between excitement for her date with Roger and upset seeing how hurt Deacy appeared to be. If only one of them had been brave enough to say the different kind of I love you. Things would be very different by this point.

Y/N studied herself in her bedroom when a knock came at her door. She bit her lip, smoothing out the dress she was wearing one last time before going to answer the door. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was exactly six. He was actually on time.

“Hello Roger,” she smiled shyly at him as she opened the door. He just looked back at her with a grin on his face as he took her in, “come on in.”

“Wow. You look beautiful,” was all he managed to get out as he followed her and she let out a musical laugh. He reached from behind his back and held out a single long stemmed red rose to her, which she took and clutched to her chest in surprise, “it’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“You’ve outdone yourself, Mr. Taylor. I’m already impressed,” she said as her cheeks reddened. She walked into the kitchen and pulled out a small vase, filling it with water and added the single flower in it, admiring it, “what’s on the list for tonight? You said it was a surprise, so I didn’t exactly know what to wear.”

“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places,” he said, shedding no light on their actual plans, “but you look perfect.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” she admitted as she took him in. He was wearing well fitting jeans, a button up undone about halfway with a signature jacket. On others it might have looked silly, but on him it seemed to work perfectly. She had no clue how to dress so she had worn her favorite red dress, which was lacy in all the right places and was just modest enough, but also gave off an air of sexiness.

“Thank you,” she was sure she glimpsed a bit of color in his cheeks, but decided not to tease him about it. Instead he offered her his arm, and the two of them headed out of her apartment and to his car, “are you just going to leave me in the dark about exactly where we’re going until we get there?”

“That’s the plan, love,” he said as he unlocked the car door for her, making sure she was safely inside before closing the door. Normally she’d be annoyed or tease him, but tonight she didn’t feel the urge to. There was something about this evening that was different.

“And here we are,” Roger announced as he parked the car. Y/N looked around, trying to figure out what part of London they were in, but the place was unassuming. She expected something grandiose and popular, but instead they were near a small Italian restaurant that didn’t appear to be busy, “Delucca’s is one of my favorite places. Has been for years.”

“This...wasn’t what I was expecting,” she admitted, but she didn’t mind. This was much more intimate and personal than anything she had planned for, “this is much better.”

“I’m not just some over the top drama queen all the time,” he winked at her as got and opened the door for her, offering her his hand so she could easily get out. Such simple gestures but they meant so much, “I’m a normal person too.”

“You? Roger Meddows Taylor? Seems fake,” she laughed at him as he gave her a soft ha ha, “do you take all your girls here on a first date?”

“Nah,” he replied almost immediately, a note of defensiveness in his voice, “I haven’t taken anyone else here. This place is special.”

“So what do you do with them? Take them elsewhere?” her familiar ribbing was coming out and she could see that she had hit a sore spot with him. He avoided looking at her, holding the door open and ushering her in. She couldn’t help herself, but as soon as the words were out, she regretted saying them, watching his face fall, “so you just drink and shag them?”

He refused to respond, perfect timing on the host’s part as he came over and seated them at a secluded table near the back. How romantic.

“Is this as bad as you had thought it would be?” Roger asked, taking a sip of his wine as Y/N put down her fork, giving him a thoughtful look. Even though she might have been reluctant to admit it, she was actually having a very good time with him. There was a lot more to Roger than he let on. She could tell he was extremely smart and sharp, much more than the typical daft pretty boy people often made him out to be, “I’m not actually a monster after all.”

“I never thought you were a monster, you buffoon,” she stuck her tongue at him, “I’ve just...thought you were this stereotypical rock star. But you’ve been surprisingly pleasant. I’ll wager I’m even having a good time.”

“I’m honored that the stubborn and bullheaded Y/N is actually admitting she’s having a good time,” he held up his glass and clinked it against hers, “I told you I wasn’t so bad.”

“Why me?” she blurted and almost regretted asking as he set down the glass and gave her a curious look. He had no clue what she was talking about.

“Why you what?”

“Why did you want to take me out on a date?” she asked, clarifying her question, bowing her head and studying what was felt on her plate. He could have easily gotten any girl he wanted, but he had pursued her. Repeatedly. Even after she turned him down numerous times, “literally any girl would love to be in my position, but you chose me. I mean...it’s just me.”

“Exactly, it’s you,” he said nonchalantly as her jaw almost dropped, “why does that surprise you so much?”

“I’m just an average girl. I don’t have a glamorous job, I’m not some groupie...I’m just Deacy’s friend that started showing up way too often and forcing my presence on you. I’m not some gorgeous model type that you normally go for,” she stabbed at a piece of meat on her plate a little harder than necessary, “I’ve seen the girls you’ve shagged, Rog. They’re usually the exact opposite of me.”

“You’re so daft sometimes, you know?” he asked, both annoyed that she kept talking herself down so much and amused that she thought she was so not his type, “I’ve been after you because I want you, Y/N. You’re absolutely gorgeous just the way you are. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re kind, and besides all that you’re the only one who’ll actually stand up to me. Even if you’re just being stubborn. It’s all incredibly sexy. A total package.”

“Roger,” her face felt like it was on fire as she slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. His bright blue eyes were focused on hers, and he was watching her like she was his pretty, “you don’t have to say all that just because I’m here or you feel obliged to because I’m Deacy’s friend.”

“Y/N, look at me,” he got her attention by reaching under the table and putting his hand on her knee, squeezing it tightly. She let out a small gasp, before looking back at him, “I’m not just saying these things. Every word is true. Whether or not you believe right now, I’ll prove it to you.”

“I promised you one date,” she said weakly, but she knew she would no doubt be giving into him before the night was over.

“Yeah, but let’s be honest here, love, I’m going to take on another date,” his general air of cockiness was back, and he still held onto her knee. She didn’t even bother to remove his hand, “and then another, and another, and another, and another. I’m going to make you my girl.”

“You’re a bold one,” she almost laughed, but she was turned on by his self reassurance.

“Fortune favors the bold,” he said simply, finally removing his hand. She was saddened by the loss of his large, warm hand on her skin.

“It would seem so, Roger Taylor,” she agreed. She picked up her glass and motioned for him to do the same, both of them mumbling cheers before downing the rest of the wine. What an interesting night this had turned into.

“Thank you for a good evening Roger,” Y/N said as she unlocked the door to her apartment. He had even taken her out for ice cream afterwards, another small hole in the wall place that he loved. And it turned out to be some of the best she had ever had. Their conversation flowed naturally, and they talked for hours, never a single awkward moment passing between. Y/N couldn’t deny that she had fun with him, “I had a really great evening. Truly.”

“That’s what I was going for,” he said, remaining in the doorway, unsure if he should follow her in or not, “I had a good time too. Who knew you could let loose and have some fun?”

“Very funny,” she said as she took of her coat and tossed it on the couch, making her way back over to him. There was only a small distance between them and she could feel the heat radiating off of his body, “but I mean it.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly, his eyes landing on her lips as he eagerly anticipated her response. She had told him, those three months, that if things went well he might be able to kiss her, with permission.

She bit her lip, but met his gaze and gave him a small nod. His heart leapt as he reached up and put his hand on her cheek, his thumb grazing gently over her cheekbone. It was such a small but intimate gesture, but her heart started racing with excitement. She couldn’t wait any longer, put her hand on his wrist and closed the distance between them, crashing her lips onto his. He must have been surprised by her assertiveness, but after a moment, his hands went to her waist as he pulled her flush against his body, as he enjoyed the feel of her soft lips on his. It was a perfect kiss - a mixture of passion and urgency, sparks flying between the two of them.

“Ask me,” she said as she pulled back from him, gasping for a breath of air. It had literally been a breathtaking first kiss. He rest his forehead against hers, sneaking in a couple more pecks, before looking at her in question, “ask me on another date.”

“Here I was thinking you’d slam the door in my face and tell me you’d never want to see me again,” he chuckled at her. She rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. He took the opportunity and started peppering kisses along her jawline, eliciting a small moan from her, “may I take you on another date?”

“Yes,” she breathed as he reached her neck. She put her hand on his chest, pressing slightly to get him to stop. She hated herself for doing it, but this was the right choice, “Rog, I’m sorry but please stop.”

“I thought you liked it-”

“I do, I really, really do,” she admitted, “but if I don’t stop you now, I know I’m not going to be able to stop you at all. You’re making this very hard for me.”

“Okay,” he said as she realized she was probably making it hard, quite literally, for him. His face was flushed, as he let go of her waist. She leaned forward and gave him another peck on the lips, turning his face into a smile, “to be fair, you did say you wouldn’t shag me on a first date.”

“I did,” she said, regretting those words slightly, as she felt the wetness in her panties. She wished she could take him then and there, but she already promised herself she wouldn’t, “and I appreciate you respecting that.”

“What about on a second date?” he asked, his cheeky nature peeking through. She hit his chest playfully but laughed nonetheless.

“We’ll talk about it,” she said with a wink as she slowly pushed him out of her doorway and into the hallway of the apartment building. He gave her a knowing, but he just nodded and grinned at her, “good night, Roger. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he repeated, watching as she slowly shut the door, listening to make sure she locked it. He stuck his hand in his pockets, a satisfied look on his face as he walked down the hall whistling a cheery tune to himself.

Y/N leaned against the door for a moment, listening to him leave. The evening had gone a million times better than she had ever thought it would, and she was a little sad that it was over. Part of her wished she had just invited him to spend the night and shagged him, but she wasn’t going to give into him completely. Plus, he had respected her boundaries, which told her a lot about him. And not that they were going on a second, she had plenty of time to prepare for that.

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[lapofthemusicgods]

I’m Going Slightly Mad

Ben HardyXJoe Mazzello slow burn, also starring ultimate friendship goals! Cross-posted on AO3 (sn: ahopper84)

Ever since filming BoRhap together, Gwilym, Rami, Ben, and Joe have remained the closest of friends. One night someone makes a suggestion that's totally insane, and yet makes complete sense.

Chapter 1

“Alright, last question is from ahopper84.” Joe scanned the message and scrunched his face into a puzzled smirk. “'Not a question, but a suggestion, you guys should go on tour! With Brian and Roger of course.' Oh, she made sure to tag them too.”

The three other guys all made varying expressions of surprise. They sat in a crowded booth of a diner in New York; it was the first time they'd all gotten together in a few months, although they all spoke frequently.

“Well, that's a hell of an idea, isn't it?” Gwilym said, sitting back in his seat. He looked at the ‘camera’ - Rami's iPhone - and smiled.

“It'd be an experience, that’s for sure,” Rami said, sipping his coffee. “Might be fun.”

“Most fun I had on a film was with you lot,” Ben chuckled, stretching his arms back behind Joe and Rami's shoulders. They both smiled, and Joe patted Ben’s hand with his own.

“Same here,” Joe said, and the other two agreed.

“Tell you what, we’ll give it a thought,” Rami said. “Who knows? It could happen.”

“Yeah,” Joe agreed, nodding to the others before grinning at the camera. “You'll be the first to know if it does.”

“Right… And I think that's going to have to be it for now,” Gwilym said to the virtual audience. “But thank you so much for joining us for this impromptu Q&A. Have a good evening!”

Everyone waved at the little screen, then Rami reached over to retrieve his phone and stop the video feed.

They all agreed it was fun, and spoke for a while about the various questions and answers, those that had prompted the most embarrassing stories, and who'd gotten the most attention. All throughout, Joe kept looking at phone absently, his eyes squinting and his lips pursing.

“Everything alright, mate?” Ben asked, nudging the other man's shoulder.

“Hm? Yeah, just thinking.”

“About?” Rami chimed in, and Gwilym looked at him expectantly. Joe looked down and chewed his lip for a moment.

“Nothing, just… Well, the idea of us, going on tour. I know it's crazy,” he laughed, shaking his head. “But... God, can you imagine?”

“Playing for a couple hundred people did feel pretty damn good,” Ben said, looking around. “Bet playing for a couple thousand would be even better.”

“Do you still play, Gwil?” Joe asked; the other man nodded and sipped his water.

“Actually, yeah. Not every day, but at least a few times a week. You?”

“Yeah,” Joe replied, smiling almost shyly. “And we all know you do, Ben; that video you posted sounded really good.”

Ben just shrugged and gave a quiet smile.

“What about you, Rami?” Gwilym asked. “You kept up with any of it?”

“I, uh… actually bought a piano,” The actor said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing fancy, but yeah, I play some now and then.”

A hush fell over the four of them as they looked at each other. There was a tension building, an electricity as they all turned the idea over in their minds.

“But that’s… I mean, we’re a little old to be rockstars, aren’t we?” Gwilym said.

“Speak for yourself mate,” Ben laughed, finishing his beer and turning the bottle between his fingers.

“Well beyond that, who would pay for it? Scheduling would be a nightmare, between the four of us. And who knows if Brian and Roger would even sign off on something like that? Playing them for a movie is one thing; going on tour pretending to be them is another.”

“You’d have to get your curls back,” Rami teased, smirking.

“Ugh, god no,” Gwilym laughed, scrunching his nose. “I hated that bloody thing. I couldn’t wait to get it off every day. And what about you, Rami; you going to get a new set of false teeth?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a shrug. “Ben, you could just grow your hair out, and Joe-”

“Nope, no, I am not getting another perm,” Joe said, and everyone laughed. “You should grow your hair out though, Ben. It looked good on you.”

“Yeah?” Ben asked, looking at Joe with a shy smile.

“Yeah...” Joe paused to clear his throat. “Anyway, technically nobody here said we had to go as Queen.”

Everyone looked at him, puzzled; after a moment he looked down, playing with his napkin.

“I um… may have done a little… writing,” he said finally, glancing up.

“Writing?” Ben said, tilting his head at his friend, his eyebrows up. “As in songs? Have you written a song, Joe?” His smile grew as he spoke, and more when Joe nodded.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Gwilym said, “But.. I have too. Nothing finished as of yet, but just some ideas.”

“Same here,” Rami agreed, and Ben let out a sigh.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say the same.”

The group fell silent again. The air was electric, the hairs on their arms stood up.

“It’s mad though, isn’t it?” Ben laughed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “We’re actors, not musicians.”

“Says who?” said Joe, looking at the blonde. “We all play. Hell, we’ve just admitted to writing songs. Just ‘cuz it’s not what it says on our resumes, doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re all mad,�� Gwilym said. “Even if we’ve played a little here and there, we’d still need to freshen up, and take vocal lessons…”

“It’d just be like preparing for any role,” Joe said with a shrug. “Come on, Gwil, you know it’d be a blast.”

“I’m not arguing it’d be fun, I’m just saying it’s not exactly feasible. Still…” He ran a hand over his chin, scratching at the stubble.

“What would Freddie say?” Ben said quietly, his eyes unfocused.

“I think he’d say to go for it,” Joe said after a minute. “He’d say, what we have, the four of us, is something no one expected, something… well, frankly, something magic. And he’d tell us to chase it.”

“He would,” Ben agreed, sitting back and putting a hand on Joe’s shoulder. “You know he would, Gwil.”

“Yeah… he would, wouldn’t he, Rami?”

“We could do it,” Rami said, nodding. Everyone looked at him, and his lips curled into the beginnings of a smile. “If we were to commit to it, and get Brian and Roger’s okay… We could probably talk the studio into promoting it, and if not, we keep it small. Bars instead of arenas. Like Queen started.”

“So,” Joe started, looking around. “What do we do? Like, is this really even an option?”

“Gwil, you should talk to Brian,” Ben said. “You and him are closest.”

“I suppose I could try… This is bloody insane. We’re not seriously considering this, are we? Us? A band?”

“I… I think we are,” Joe said, sounding as shocked as he looked. All four guys nodded, grinning and nearly twitching with excitement.

“Well then,” Rami said, grinning. “This should be interesting.”

[garbagecann24601]

I was going through some old notebooks and found some real gems.

Look theres a spider craling up that tree.

Look theres a spider apan that girls knee.

Look a spider spinning a web.

Spiders have eight legs.

There’s one craling up your leg.

They eat flys.

They eat moths.

But they don’t have aney claws.

“An Author I must Be”

An author’s the job for me,

An author I must be.

The title page should say this book was made,

By Jayde.

I love to write yes I do.

Do you like writing too?

To write a book,

You just have to look,

In your imagination for the right thing to write.

It might be hard yes it might.

“Diary of Anna Sulfer”

May 9th 1900

Today my mother had her baby. It was a boy named Joshua J. Sulfer. You would think I would be happy but I am not for mother has died.

“Diary of Elizabeth Adams” (silly stories)

The second day of September, 1870

Mother found out she is pregnat today. I do so hope it’s a girl! Father said babies take about six months to fully develop and come out. Mother says I should be happy even if the baby’s a boy. I think we don’t need a boy because we already have Mark, Timothy, Andrew, Paul, Joseph, Caleb, Willie, Marcus, Benjamin, Thomas, Frank, Charlie, Albert, Eddie, Christopher, Peter, Samuel, Levi, Josiah, Edward, Cole, Clark, Lewis, Brad, Austin, Jacob, Jack, Michal, Alexander, Zackery, Amadeous, Ezekiel, David, Isac, Jeremy, Terry, Victor, Matthew, Ted, Luther, Lin, Fredrik, Alfred, Allan, Horace, Arther, Walter, Charles, Colton, Bert, Simion, Ryan, Kyle, Evan, Grant, Paul, James, John, Jesse, Anthony, Pat, Jerimiah, Hezikiah, Malici, Curt, Joe,

“The Lost Rubies”

Mical and Milissa were two twins. Mical was a smart boy who loved science and Millisa on the other hand was always amagining things but she loved history.. Mical and Millisa had solved one mystery before.

On the lovely spring day of May 28, 2000 Mical and Millisa weregoing to a old building. When they drived up Millisa had her amagenation going like crazy. Their father told them about the lost rubies that once belonged to a queen might be in that building.

Mical was talking about how rubies are formed. “And remember don’t touch anything” reminded their father for what seemed like the hundrenth time. “We will we will.” said Millisa and Mical. “Bye dad.” said Millisa. As they entered the building Mical said “This would make a great place to do science explosons!”

“No way! It should be used as a Laura Ingalls memorial sesiety!” exclaimed Millisa. “No way! It should be used as a place you learn about vertabrates and invertebretes.” said Mical. “What are we arguing about?” said Millisa. “Let’s look for the lost rubies.” said Mical. They went upstairs and looked around. “What was that?” whispered Millisa. “What?” asked Mical caususly. “Over there.” said Milllisa pointing. “Woof.” said a dog. “It’s just a dog. And dogs are carnivores.” said Mical. “What’s a carnivore?” asked Millisa. “A meat eating animal.” said Mical. The dog howled. “Michel are you sure this is a dog it’s acting a little wilder.” said Millisa. Michal aproched the dog not knowing what to expect.

“This is defenetly a carnivore look at it’s sharp teeth.” said Mical holding the jaws of a wolf.  “If it’s teeth are so sharp I’d let go.” said Millisa. A light from the lantern they held for there were no electric lights danced from the lantern and Millisa saw fierce eyes looking at her brother, shaggy gray fur fell from his body. “Mical that must be a old dog. It’s furs gray and long.” said Millissa. “Snap.” wen the olfs jaws on Mical’s hand. “Mical!” shouted Millisa. “I’m okay.” said Mical. “Why it’s face.” said Millisa.

“It’s stoped hurting now.” said Mical. “I’m taking my jackknife and cutting it open.” said Mical. “Be careful.” warned Millisa. When Mical cut the fake wolf open they gasped. “The rubies.” said Millisa half speechless nd half imagining her as a royal girl with hundreds of rubies on. 

The MM twins did it again!

The End.

^^These were all from a notebook that I had when I was maybe 7 or 8. The next ones are from Jr High and High School when NO ONE UNDERSTOOD ME 

“Kiss Me Once” (I have **NO** idea what prompted this or who it’s supposed to be about)

Kiss me once, my love.

Kiss me once before you go,

Before your soul soars high above.

Kiss me once, my little pet

For night is drawing to an end

And we shall soon all but forget

This love we shared but no one knew

And which I can scarcely call reality,

But if I can but once kiss you,

My fear will go away,

and all my dreams will then come true

For I shall see that you were more than a dream,

or else, the fairy tales are coming true.

“All Alone” or “The Box” (This one was dated 2-24-12, which means I would have been 14)

I poured my heart into a box

And sealed it with a kiss

I left the box upon my shelf

And nothing was amiss.

And on the days when skies were dark,

When wind and rain and tempest blew

I drew upon my little box

And whispered “I love you.”

And every day my box was safe;

It rested there upon its shelf

And long before I realized why

I had begun to call it “self.”

But one day when I came back home

I missed my little box’s song

And that’s when I began to call

Each thing that I did “wrong.”

For my heart went missing

With my box that disappeared

And life seems so much worse now

Than everything I’ve feared.

For now I see what I have done;

My chest is home to a dark black hole

And all that I now ever feel

Is coldness in my soul.

For I have nothing left.

I am all alone.

(The context for this next one is that I really really hated playing piano, but my parents made me keep taking lessons)

That wretched thing

I’m forced to play

Like a ball and chain

Ties me down today.

That horrid thing

Made my cry

And day after day

I wish it would die

And oh how I long

To worship the King,

But how could I ever

With this foul thing?

No one understands

How this tears me up inside.

They told me I played well,

As I ran and hid and cried.

They don’t notice

The hatred that I feel.

But very deep inside me

The emotions are so real.

“Forever Satisfied”

They threw me into prison

They locked me up in jail

I sat in there forever

‘Cause I couldn’t pay the bail.

They told me to run faster

They told me not to quit.

And though I ran forever

I never did get fit.

I got blisters on my hand

From where the pencil rubbed me wrong,

And though I wrote forever

She condemned it as too long.

I sat and played piano

Then just broke down and cried.

And though I practiced forever,

They were not satisfied.

I tried to fit in with them.

I tried to be their friend.

And though I was with them forever,

I was rejected in the end.

Then one day I stopped breathing.

I had up and died.

And I was with Jesus forever.

Forever satisfied.

“Why Did You Lie?” (I wrote this my freshman year of high school about a senior who in no way ever promised me anything)

Why did you lie?

You promised not to leave

You promised me forever.

You promised me a bond

That time could not sever.

But now you ever see me.

You never look my way

And now I see the other one.

The one you love today.

Is this all my fault?

Now I’m lonely and afraid.

You promised me your love

But the promise never stayed.

I thought we had a future

I hoped that this was real.

But whatever I thought I felt

Was too good for you to feel.

For your heart is cold and hard as ice

Your chest is a deep hole.

And I see myself as I am

The fool whose heart you stole.

(I think I wrote this one when my sister graduated high school and was preparing to move away to college)

And I fade into the wall.

There’s nothing much to look at.

There’s nothing there at all.

You’re going on a journey,

And I’m saying here behind.

You’re in for an adventure,

Who knows what you may find.

Your life is changing,

But mine isn’t at all.

I’m the phantom in the shadows,

And I blend into the wall.

You talk about your leaving

And your following your call.

And my heart is quickly breaking

In the darkness of its fall.

“Black. White” (Warning: This one is quite angsty, touching on themes of self harm and suicide, and then very religious)

I AM BLACK

I am shadows in the night.

I am nothing by day.

Hatred and bitterness spew out of my heart and cut others.

I made my mother cry. Again.

I really didn’t mean to. A careless word. Insensitivity. I didn’t know.

Now I feel invisible. Obscure. despicable. Like a spot on a bright white shirt.

A mistake. A misunderstanding. A vain struggle to survive.

Why aren’t I dead?

I’m sure my bad outweighs my good. I should burn. I should bleed. I should pay.

My world feels cold and empty now.

No more tears. No colors. No smiles.

I am the absence of light. I repel it. It hides from my face.

Even it thinks I’m hopeless.

I am a sinner.

I am black.

I have a Savior.

He is white.

He is the morning star.

He is the sweet breath of life.

His heart is full of love and kindness and compassion for others.

He paid the penalty for all my sin.

He really didn’t have to. The world hated Him. Rejected. Few cared.

He became mortal. human. weak. needy. Like one of us, but

Perfect. Spotless. Beautiful. Lamb of God.

And yet He died.

He had done no wrong. He should be praised. magnified. exalted.

He created the world and filled it with life.

He shed His blood. He paid my ransom. He died.

He is light. The grave could not hold Him. Darkness shudders.

Even nature screams His praises.

He is my Savior.

He makes me white.