#Drum Sticks Market Demand

[poonamcmi]

The global drum sticks market is primarily driven by the increasing participation and interest of people

Market Overview The global drum sticks market is primarily driven by the increasing participation and interest of people in drumming activities globally. Drum sticks, also known as drumsticks or drum bats, are essential musical instruments for playing drums. They are usually made of wood, nylon, plastic or a combination of these materials and come in various sizes, shapes, and designs. Drum sticks facilitate producing different tones and sounds from drums. The growing genre of music genres like rock, pop, jazz, and African drumming that heavily use percussion instruments have increased the demand for drum sticks substantially. Additionally, many people now use drumming as a hobby to help reduce stress and stay active.

The Global Drum Sticks Market is estimated to be valued at US$ 366.2 Mn in 2024 and is expected to exhibit a CAGR of 4.6% over the forecast period 2024 to 2031.

Key Takeaways Key players operating in the drum sticks market are Vic Firth, ProMark, Zildjian, Ahead, Regal Tip, Los Cabos Drumsticks, Silverfox, Vater, Mapex, Tama, Bam, Drum Workshop (DW), D'Addario, Meinl, Rhythm Tech, and Pearl, Balter Mallets, Innovative Percussion, and Baker's Drumsticks. These top brands offer a wide variety of sticks differing in size, weight, material, grip shape, and budget. The Drum Sticks Market Size is increasingly being driven by greater interest and participation in recreational drumming. Many music teachers and schools now offer drumming classes that fuel stick consumption. Technological advancements like ergonomically designed drum sticks with improved grips and enhanced durability are expanding market opportunities.

Market Trends Some noticeable trends in the drum sticks market include: - Popularity of marching percussion ensembles and bands: Growing culture of school, college and professional marching bands and drumlines is driving higher sales of specialty drum sticks. - Customization and personalization: Players now demand sticks tailored to their playing style and grip. Companies offer build-your-own options to personalize stick dimensions, materials, colors etc. - Sustainable and eco-friendly sticks: Rising consumer focus on environment and sustainability has propelled the manufacturing of sticks from recycled, organic and FSC-certified wood sources.

Market Opportunities The key opportunities in the global drum sticks market are: - Expanding recreational drumming: Continuous growth of Drum Stick Market Size And Trends drum cafes, workshops and music therapy presents an avenue to fuel sticks demand. - Emergence of indoor percussion: Indoor percussion like drumline and percussion ensembles performed at competitions has become popular among young players requiring customized sticks.

Impact of COVID-19 on Drum Sticks Market The COVID-19 pandemic has impacted the drum sticks market significantly. During the initial lockdown phases, most music stores, instrument retailers and other shops were shut down due to the stringent restrictions imposed by governments. This led to a shortage of drum sticks as the supply chains were disrupted. The demand also declined sharply as live concerts, music festivals and other events were cancelled. Many drummers faced difficulties in accessing new drum sticks or other replacement sticks during this period.

However, with the relaxations in restrictions and re-opening of retail outlets in 2021, the supply chains started recovering. The availability of drum sticks gradually improved as production and distribution activities resumed. At the same time, many musicians adopted online learning and virtual jamming sessions using video conferencing platforms. This encouraged some practice and usage of drum sticks at home. Meanwhile, e-commerce also played a pivotal role in meeting the demand as people turned to online channels for purchasing musical instruments and accessories.

Going forward, the drum sticks market is expected to grow steadily. Although live performances may see some cancellations or delays due to new variants, the consumer preference for music and practice at home is likely to sustain. Premium sticks from brands are also gaining popularity among professionals and hobbyists. Companies are further expanding their product ranges as well as ramping up their marketing initiatives in the post-pandemic conditions. The demand from educational institutions and studios is also projected to bounce back as normalcy returns. Hence, the long term outlook remains positive subject to pandemic situation coming under control.

Geographical regions concentrated in Drum Sticks market North America holds the largest share in the global drum sticks market in terms of value, driven by strong musical heritage and widespread popularity of drumming in countries like the United States. The availability of wide range of sticks from various brands, extensive retail networks of music stores and high spending power of consumers have boosted the North American market size. Countries like the US and Canada have extensive professional artists circuit as well DJ/producer communities that generate significant ongoing demand. Presence of global brands and manufacturers has further strengthened North America's position as the highest valued region in the drum sticks industry currently.

Fastest growing region for Drum Sticks market Asia Pacific region is poised to exhibit the fastest growth in the drum sticks market over the forecast period from 2024 to 2031. The growth can be attributed to rising passion for music and expanding youth population interested in learning percussion instruments like drums. Additionally, increasing incomes, improving standard of living and growing disposable incomes are encouraging more people to take up drumming as a hobby or profession in emerging Asian countries. Government initiatives to promote music and cultural activities are also fueling the demand. Countries like India, Indonesia, South Korea and China are anticipated to drive the future expansion of drum sticks market in the Asia Pacific region. Penetration of western music and evolving cultural preferences will further accelerate the momentum. Get More Insights On, Drum Sticks Market About Author: Ravina Pandya, Content Writer, has a strong foothold in the market research industry. She specializes in writing well-researched articles from different industries, including food and beverages, information and technology, healthcare, chemical and materials, etc. (https://www.linkedin.com/in/ravina-pandya-1a3984191)

[thesinglesjukebox]

WILLOW - "RUN!"

The first time we've covered Willow solo since "20th Century Girl" in 2011!

[6.82]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: A phenomenal parlor trick of a song. It begins enjoyably obnoxious from the jump and spends its entire runtime transforming its needling bassline and insistent drums into something even-keeled. The way everything interlocks at the end is the direct result of Willow’s vocals — she was always the ringleader. There’s even a moment that has the unfurling beauty of Steve Reich’s minimalism. It’s apt; there’s so much joy in hearing the real-time transformations here. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Asher Bank, the drummer on this song, has the most difficult job: he has to recede for the vocals to take center stage, emerge in order to provide sharp transitions, settle into a smooth groove for the pre-chorus, then carefully carry the outro. More difficult yet, he leans heavily on the kick/snare/kick/kick/kick/snare pattern, largely keeping the hi-hats on a straight, flat drone with no wild tom runs or heavy drum fills to provide flavor. He stays in the pocket for drum engineer Zach Brown to keep him at a low level for Chris Greatti -- handler of piano/bass/acoustic guitar too!!? -- to record. Then Mitch McCarthy quiets the hi-hats and buries them in the mix, letting the kick and snare take starring roles next to the bass as the electric guitar and Willow's vocals drift high over them, rounded off and cocooned with reverb. Willow's voice is a helpless, frightened cry until she settles into her deeper, lower register as the drums pause, rush back toward the front of the mix, then slowly thump into the last bars of the outro, only the kicks heard. All in all, fine job by Bank. Willow sounds great too. [8]

Alfred Soto: Listening to "run!" blind I'd have assumed HAIM or somebody were responsible for the freakout-in-real-time vocal. The wonder is drummer Asher Bank, whose unpredictable patterns recall similar work on Fetch the Bolt Cutters. The star is Willow, whose performance complements the rhythm. [8]

Jonathan Bradley: Willow’s anxious shrieks and paranoid gasps demand stronger accompaniment than one and a half post-punk basslines and an admittedly satisfying clattery drum kit. [5]

Dave Moore: In the past few years Willow has quietly become the most incredible pop artist that you are begging to hear in a language you don't speak. But, much to my own surprise, I couldn't care less about the dippy poetry and therapyspeak -- the right syllables always seem stick to the right melodies and assemble themselves into the right songs. She's a genius.  [7]

Katherine St. Asaph: Willow's A-list family has, maybe paradoxically, caused their musical career to fall into relative obscurity compared to pop's A-list; casual listeners and jaded industry types have seemingly written her music off as nepo stuff that's safe to ignore. Which is a shame, because they're making more ambitious music, more deserving of being called "artpop," than many of the up-and-coming artists marketed in their stead. "Run!" is striking and angsty in a way that shares more in common with '90s singer-songwriters than '20s nu-pop-punkers. There are places in Willow's vocal where I would believe that someone spliced in a Tori Amos sample instead -- the inflections can be uncannily similar. (Well, OK, half the time who I actually hear is Charlotte Martin; close enough.) Docked a point for the outro, which is the sort of indulgent meandering that the doubters probably expected. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: As with many of the great stars of alternative rock through the decades, it's hard to separate the craft from the shtick here. This annoys me in the nervy first half and still doesn't quite land itself in the repeated phrases of the spacier second half, but I can't help but be charmed by the song taken as a whole. To take big swings and fail interestingly is always more valorous than to just muddle through. [6]

Taylor Alatorre: Saves the Day had In Reverie, the Get Up Kids had On a Wire, Panic! had Pretty. Odd., and Willow has empathogen. Once you have chosen the path of the Emo Girl, there's no going back; record your self-consciously mature and classicist follow-up album, or perish. This is of course an oversimplification, since not even the sellout-iest of emo bands has a career path remotely comparable to Willow's. "I can't get out" is an appropriate grievance for someone with her profile, whether it's stemming from generalized anxiety disorder or the fact that "Whip My Hair" remains her highest-charting hit. Even while Willow is re-enacting a nervous breakdown, she's still the diligent aesthete, arranging her yelps and squawks in a painterly manner between the gaps in the skittering percussion. Then she suddenly realizes that the song's halfway over and she hasn't said the title yet, prompting a vision of escape that sounds like an extended cut of a sensitive Blink-182 bridge. It's pedestrian, it's predictable after 5 seconds, and it's still evocative enough to make me want to re-evaluate a certain therapeutic mantra. "'Wherever you go, there you are'?" Willow seems to ask. "Actually, dude, I was there, which sucked, and now I am here, which doesn't suck. Take that, mindfulness." [7]

Ian Mathers: I was one of the few positive outliers when we reviewed "Meet Me At Our Spot," and a lot of that was specifically Willow's vocals, so I'm nonplussed that for the first two-thirds here they don't do much for me at all. Might be the production, because during the last minute's worth of "runrunrunrunrun" bits the song does sound better to me. But instead of that section feeling like catharsis or fixation or something equally powerful, it just feels like they ran out of ideas. Better luck next time! [5]

Harlan Talib Ockey: One of my favorite under-discussed trends in music was the blues rock boom of the early 2010s. Alabama Shakes, Gary Clark Jr., Rival Sons, Kaleo, Hanni El Khatib, Blues Pills, Curtis Harding and Sinkane occasionally, Cage the Elephant and Royal Blood arguably. “Run!” is a near-perfect throwback to this era. Even the guitar tone sounds like it’s from The Black Keys’ Turn Blue, and Willow’s vocal delivery owes a debt to Brittany Howard and St. Vincent (who appears on this album). I’m biased toward giving “Run!” a good score simply because that was most of what I listened to as a teenager, but here’s the deciding factor: when Willow starts to drift away from the formula, she expertly dissolves the outro into dreamy exhilaration.  [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Major theater kid vibes (non-pejorative).  [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[infinitiresearch]

Evaluation of Starch Manufacturer’s Performance| Analysis and Forecast

Originally published on Spendedge: 5 Best Ways to Evaluate Starch Manufacturer’s Performance

**Supplier Performance Evaluation in the Global Starch Market**

If you've ever pondered why your rice sticks together or your potatoes adhere to the pan, the culprit is starch, a common carbohydrate found in staple starchy foods like rice, potatoes, wheat, maize, and cassava. Starch, an efficient energy storage mechanism for plants, plays a versatile role in industrial applications, from stiffening textiles and shaping paper to enhancing taste in beverages and confectionery. While various starch types exist, including maize, potato, and wheat starch, cornstarch dominates, accounting for approximately 57% of global starch production capacity by raw material in 2016.

Given the multitude of starch manufacturers and suppliers globally, it becomes imperative to assess supplier performance and competencies for informed decision-making in future contracts. Here's how buyers can evaluate supplier performance in the global starch market:

**Starch Production Hubs**

**Supplier Evaluation Criteria in the Starch Market:**

1. **Service Resolution Rate:** - Assess the supplier's responsiveness to buyer complaints regarding starch quality, logistics, quantity, and packaging. - Complaints should be registered through a designated portal or email, with resolutions expected within six weeks.

2. **Inventory Management Effectiveness:** - Evaluate the supplier's reliability in effective inventory management. - Use metrics like reduction in average lead time, ensuring compliance with specified timelines. - Ensure starch manufacturers maintain adequate safety stock inventory for unusual demands, adhering to JIT principles.

3. **Efficient Plant Utilization Rate:** - Evaluate starch manufacturers based on their plant utilization rate, with a higher percentage indicating lower variable costs. - Ideal plant utilization rate in the starch industry is about 50%-60% of total capacity.

4. **Lower Turn Around Time (TAT):** - Ensure starch suppliers maintain a quick turnaround time (TAT) to respond to fluctuations in buyer demand without compromising quality. - Ideal TAT in the starch market is around 4-5 days from the date of requirement.

5. **Logistics Capabilities:** - Assess the supplier's logistics capabilities, considering complications arising from transportation laws and packaging requirements. - Evaluate the ratio of shipments damaged by shipments delivered to gauge logistics efficiency.

Read more about the supplier assessment criteria for starch manufacturers, including pricing insights, sourcing strategy, key suppliers, procurement best practices, and cost modeling in SpendEdge’s upcoming report on the global starch market.

**Optimized Procedure for Starch Preparation**

**1. Starch Source Selection:** - Choose an appropriate starch source based on the intended application, selecting from common sources like corn, potato, rice, and wheat.

**2. Raw Material Preparation:** - Clean the raw material to remove contaminants and mill it to liberate starch granules.

**3. Extraction of Starch:** - Combine ground raw material with water to create a slurry, determining the water-to-raw-material ratio based on starch content. - Gelatinize starch granules by heating the slurry, adjusting pH if needed, and introducing alpha-amylase enzymes for breakdown. - Separate starch slurry from insoluble components through filtration.

**4. Separation and Purification:** - Allow the starch slurry to settle for separation, then cleanse the starch with water to remove remaining contaminants. - Use centrifugation or hydrocyclones for further separation.

**5. Drying and Milling:** - Employ methods like drum drying, flash drying, or air drying to remove excess water based on intended use. - Mill the starch if necessary to achieve the desired size.

**6. Quality Control and Storage:** - Test starch for parameters like moisture content, viscosity, and purity. - Store prepared starch in moisture-proof containers to prevent degradation.

A comprehensive supplier assessment ensures reliable sourcing, effective inventory management, and adherence to quality standards in the global starch market, contributing to a resilient and efficient supply chain.

For more information please contact.

[napiersworldzero]

Summary of Session 9/22/2023

Mavi took the lead role very seriously and ended up changing and adding so much to the play, it became a musical and the entire cast had begun to hate her. However, Ten was unaware of this as a new party member, a tall, buff creature with the mask of the death god Anubis approached. Introduced himself as Dr. Boris, he explained quickly of a demonic door.

When Ten went to investigate, in the deep black market alleys, he finds that where once was shops is now empty and barren. Damaged. Glass is broken, doors caved in, dust over everything with black puddles on the floors on counters here and there. The alleyway holds a constant, unnerving hum. It sounds inhuman, the consistency inhuman. Towards the end of the route is a dilapidated store where it the front had been carved away. Inside the shop, a cold wind blows through. Each step would creak, each sound echoed. The place has been carved and blown away from a dark doorway in the center. Out of place, with scratch marks and black stains spreading from it like darkness reaching out.

They take a single step on the stairs and then comes the noise. Loud, high, irritating, and grating. It sounds like winds battling and screaming but there’s something so unworldly about it.

They move back and the sound stops until Dr. Boris throws a lit torch into the darkness, setting the building on fire. Horrible, unearthly, static-like screams fill the air for a long moment before dissipating.

Ten hurries back to the guards, warns them of the danger that has been awoken, the Hellequin, and the leader of the guards who Ten had managed to get on the good side of explains who the Hellequin is and then the party reunites.

After a moment, they return to the alleyway to inspect the guards that had investigated the place to find them all dead. Dr. Boris revives one and hears of the horrid, unknown enemy that killed them all before he runs away to receive medical attention.

The party stays in the alleyway until Mavi is kidnapped, brought to the theater with their bag of holding dumped out, showing the Orb of Transience. She is unharmed and Arlecc finds them, demanding that they explain why the ghost light is out and why they are here when they hear skittering above as the Orb hums and spins in and around itself. Arlecc quickly takes out their instrument and sings a old nursery rhyme before the Hellequin leaves. Ten tries to play the role of lead actor but then hears of what Mavi has done and promises to never return.

They leave and return to the alleyway, trying to figure out their next moves.

Down through the doorway, down a long flight of stairs, is the basement. Dark, cold. There are broken instruments and tools scattered around, spotting blacksmith's tools and artificer's kit, strange strings and used gears, tubes and melted metal. Breath mists in the air, the walls dampen all of the noise.

Deep into this room sits a bed with a deep indent of a humanoid in the fetal position.

Dr. Boris found this strange string leading to the front corners of the house, yanking them down to find wooden boxes with a strange mesh over the top. One breaks to reveal a small leather drum inside with a metal wrapped stick in the center. Rome finds that the first step was a trigger-plate that set off the screaming from the boxes.

They then decide to destroy the Orb of Transience, summoning the Hellequin who claps three times for them to wander to try to find it before rolling out Arlecc's hat, bloodied and gory. Ten senses the Hellequin appear behind them and misty steps, attacking and cutting off the braid and cutting through the fabric of the creature before it made its escape.

Watching from the dark, the Hellequin patiently waits For the haughty lofty artist, the Hellequin swiftly takes So keep the ghost light lit And keep the act contrived Whistle not behind the stage, friend, And watch for more than your reflection.

[notmuchtoconceal]

Projection and binary thinking make you stupid in the unsexy way, lil bro. Even if both parties are branding campaigns which are ultimately superficial, it's hard not to notice most people who are Trump lovers tend to conflate truth-telling with the joy of assholery, when in fact the joy of assholery is absolutely incidental to telling the truth. In fact, sometimes if one wishes to speak the truth and have it stick one has to -- le gasp -- learn to be as gentle as they are firm, and this requies empathy and discipline in equal measure.

The Democrats at least market themselves on tolerance while being covertly in bed with big business, while Daddy Trump is openly and nakedly a huckster conman positing a poisonous pro-corporate anti-rebel faux-populism which preys on racist and xenophobic instincts which ultimately amount to mean girl exclusion techniques.

Democrats at least base their own pro-beaurecratic stranglehold exclusionary mean girl techniques on ideas necessitating critical thinking -- ie. ideology extrapolated from perceived virtues, rather than kneejerk hostile reactions -- even if the results are ultimtely byzantine and based on trauma projections.

Even in regards to shallow thinking and the value of the superficial, there's a lot of grey area one could parse, for in truth everyone is a universe unto themselves, and knowing how to articulate onesself and therefore recognize their own values separate from team sports trivia is a skill which needs to be learned.

I would suggest to everyone reading -- regardless of their perceived political orientation -- to begin by asking real questions over gotchas if one wishes for real answers, for truthfully sitting down and calmly explaining onesself requires time and energy and is a labor of love which you don't appreciate if you routinely mistake compassion for weakness and willingness to engage as stupidity.

Daddy Trump is capitalizing on what seems to be a messianic frenzy, and I suspect most people who voted for him did so more for emotional than pragmatic reasons. Beneath racism, xenophobia and the desire for 'strongman' leadership there's usually a deep need for safety and community stemming from the threat of perceived outsiders. Rather than doubling down on the intolerance of the other side -- when I suspect you know you're just as incapable of intolerance yourself -- perhaps you can try opening your heart and leading with the virtues of Trump as you understand them, soften the perceived opposition with your own humanity, and really make an effort to bridge the gap instead of demanding attention from people you choose to frame in a hostile, one-dimensional light.

Show us there's more inside of you than empty war drums, bro. Show us that you truly believe your candidate is the right man for the job, based on more than his vibe, the thrill of his rhetoric, what he stirs in your frenzied animal mind. I have faith in you.

Your party claim to be a tolerant group but if we don't agree with your ideology and vote for your party then you tell them to unfollow you. I myself have gladly done that because of you. Why are so intolerant of people who voted for Donald Trump?

Ah, but I've never claimed to be tolerant. Or nice, or anything! :) So I have no ego investment in wasting my time or energy on an idiot - I owe you, quite literally, nothing. And nothing is what you shall get <3 Fuck off

[alive-drumming]

9 Myths About Drumming

According to Music Australia, drumming has become a part of our everyday lives. Whether you play at home or go to a club, chances are you’ve heard someone say they love drumming. Drummers are sometimes stereotyped as loud, obnoxious, and annoying. In reality, drumming is a complex art form that requires practice, patience, and discipline.

“Drumming has become very popular worldwide. Drumming can be done alone or with other instruments such as guitar, bass, and keyboard. Drumming is a great way to exercise your body and relax simultaneously,” says Flynn Ross, a musical instrument specialist at Guitar Tuners—Australia’s top supplier of musical instruments.

Drumming is a fun and relaxing hobby that anyone can enjoy. There are several myths surrounding drumming, but they only apply to some drummers.

1. The Physicality Is Extreme

Drums are no more physically demanding to practice than other instruments. Still, all musical instruments have a maximum volume that may be easily reached before you break it and start wasting your time or showing off.

2. The Key Is To Hit Things

Drumming revolves around striking objects, but a piano, another percussion instrument, does the same. It’s not the same as hitting something as hard as you can when you strike it to get the best sound out of it.

3. Drummers Perspire Heavily

A drummer's working room.

They used to since the club had low ceilings and they were flanked by infernal floor lighting or a row of incandescent lamps dangling above them. The drummer was inches away from getting a tan, thanks to being on a riser. LED drummers no longer sweat more than anyone else on stage due to the environment’s low heat. Keep up with technological advancements while remaining alert in the back.

4. Drumming Can’t Be Practised At Home Without Making Others Mute

False. Practising surfaces include books, pads, and electronic drums. Also, your sister’s violin or brother’s trumpet, which requires natural playing to generate a good tone, can quickly drown out the appealing pattering of sticks on a practice pad or electronic set.

5. Drums Cannot Be Played On Your Own

That is no longer the case in the virtual world. Some YouTube drummers who “stay at home” have a business coaching other drummers online.

6. Drums Aren’t Musical Instruments

It is true that drums “have no pitch”. This is typically cited as support for this claim. On the other hand, it has an undefined or approximate pitch. The ear can tell which drum has a higher pitch than the other.

7. It Will Only Take Additional Time Away From The Books To Study The Drums In High School Or College

Maybe, but those hours will probably improve academic performance if they aren’t wasted. There is a growing body of research on the many advantages of learning any musical instrument, including patience, discipline, confidence, attention to detail, and coordination.

8. Drummers Are Not Musicians

It’s a prevalent misconception that drummers don’t need to understand how music functions. This is false; many drummers have at least rudimentary proficiency on a second instrument.

9. You’ll Experience Hearing Loss

Modern in-ear monitoring provides a level of control that allows you to have whatever sound you choose in your ears at any volume. If you turn the monitors up to their maximum volume, the drums sound fantastic, but there is a risk of ear injury. You should give it some thought.

Break The Myths And Enjoy Drumming With Alive Drumming

There are myths about everything; no one should hinder someone from doing what they love. With professional help, breaking these myths and enjoying drumming will be possible.

Alive Drumming showcases non-classical musicianship, with resources on contemporary rhythms, arrangement rhythm recordings, and provides the Song Rhythm Tracks service and mobile apps.

Contact us at marketing@alive-drumming.org for more information.

[barrydavisblog]

What Kind Of Things You Should Avoid In Web Design and Development?

These days every business makes its own internet home with the aid of a user-friendly website. Day by day the demand for web design and development is increasing rapidly. Making a website is crucial to avoid some mistakes which are associated with the method of web development and designing.

A website aids a business in establishing a good rapport with visitors and inspires them to make action. This factor assists in making new business deals and generating revenue.

Launching a website with professionalism is a great way to grab new clients and foster customer relationships. Through this blog, we are going to discuss a few common mistakes in the web development and designing process.

Read the entire blog and avoid those faults to enhance the online business presence.

Some Common Mistakes To Avoid In Web Design and Development

Struggling to design a website page flawlessly? Don't worry; with creative thought and effort, completing the entire web design and development process is a simple task.

Avoid the following errors and launch an attractive website:

Too Much Content

Website aids to drum up a lot of new customers and clients to inflate a business prospect. It's easy to inform the leads about the brand with lots of content and images. But it's not an effective idea. It's irritating for the customers to click on a link and be bombarded with too much info. People feel overwhelmed and leave the webpage. This factor can also affect SEO and churn. As a result, it's beneficial to take the aid of a digital marketing expert to develop a website perfectly for the immense growth of the business.

Complex CTA Buttons

Attach a CTA button perfectly with the link. This button assists clients in understanding what they need to do for each specific site. No need to utilize complexity and creativity with the call-to-action wording. Make sure to keep it simple and clear to understand.

Examples of some effective CTA include:

Buy Now

Contact Us

Add To Cart

Yes, Sign Me Up, etc.

Unprotected Data

Sometimes website requires some changes. It can be about the changing of server or host. But it's not possible every time to import data manually. It's also imperative to secure all data to prevent the chances of losing any vital info. Hence, it's compulsory to secure all data carefully from the developing stage of web design and development. Otherwise, one small mistake can affect the overall prospect of the business.

Non-responsive Design

Nowadays, people use various types of gadgets. In that case, it's common that a visitor can use different devices to reach the specific webpage. Thus it's advantageous to build a perfect responsive web design that never irks clients away. A responsive web design is an ultimate solution tailor-made to fit every screen by default.

Not Fitting All Browsers

Just like the design, the website changes from one browser to another. It's an essential factor that should not be avoided during web design and development. Always create a perfect website that offers the desired look for all browsers. This is a key factor to assure that no lead will get repealed off the brand only because the website is not loading. Make sure that the website fits correctly with all browsers.

The most used browsers are the following:

Mozilla Firefox

Google Chrome

Opera

Microsoft Internet Explorer.

Use Compressed Graphics

When working with a client to increase site performance, one of the first things to do is optimize photos for the web. Always remember a large and uncompressed photo can slow down the website's speed. As a result, visitors may move away and that affects the SEO ranking. Never forget to compress all pictures and graphics before uploading them on the website. It enhances the quality of the file too.

Scroll Horizontally

Here is another factor to avoid during the entire method of web design and development. Never scroll on the website horizontally. It can be a part of the web designing process but avoid this step. Try to stick on only vertical scrolling. It can be a great way to experience positive changes in web browsing. People will visit more websites that have vertical scrolls than horizontal ones.

No More Fancy Navigation

Avoid fancy and complicated navigation to design a website. Fancy design can be a fun for few minutes, but sometimes more creativity becomes a burden for visitors. It leads to high bounce rates after scrolling for a few minutes. Try to stick to a simple menu bar to reach more people.

Avoid Vague Headlines

Keep in mind to avoid using any vague headlines. Visitors are great judges. They always try to analyze whether they are in the right place or not. Use the exact heading to describe the genuine products or services. A clear and attractive heading can create a golden opportunity to grab the attention of numerous visitors. People need to understand what's the website about.

Create A Flawless Website!

The website is all about the vision and mission. With the numerous visitors, it's easy to achieve the ultimate business goals. It's crucial to pay more attention to developing and designing a website correctly. Before finalizing everything make sure that all steps are done efficiently. Every bit of a website contributes to the reputation of the organization. If you are not an expert then you should know how to hire web developers. Webskitters Technology Solution is a leading IT company to deliver top-graded web design and development services. Feel free to call them and get top-notch services.

[bangtanbetchfics]

friction | knj (m)

genre: office au, romance, smut rating: explicit // 18+ pairing: kim namjoon x reader word count: 7.0k suggested listening: 1 billion views - exo-sc | creme brulee - gfriend | underwater - baekhyun | playlist warnings: m/f, m/m, explicit language, explicit/casual sex, masturbation, enemies to lovers, light bondage, light dom/sub, sex toys summary: your pesky and overworked assistants meddle in your relationship with your sexy rival -- kim namjoon -- and find themselves caught in the crosshairs of love and all-out war. notes: enjoy enjoy enjoy! a true labor of love. navigation: ch. i | ch. ii | ch. iii | masterlist | ao3

FRIC·TION | conflict or animosity caused by a clash of wills, temperaments, or opinions.

Taehyung yawns, interlacing his fingers and pulling his arms above his head in a stretch. He moves his neck side-to-side until he hears a satisfying crack, indicating the adequate stretch of the muscle. He waits for his computer to finish powering down before clicking the lamp on his desk off.

Taehyung’s hand reaches for his coat, but he hesitates as he looks over at your office.

The blue glare seems to amplify your stressed expression and the mildly dark crescents under your eyes.

“Ma’am?”

Taehyung quietly raps at the glass door to your office and it startles you from your concentration.

“Hmm...yes, Tae?”

You respond, mildly annoyed, as you pull a neon post-it note from its pad to stick to the desk.

Taehyung looks at you, his eyes forming wide circles as if he's ready to convince you of something. You can immediately sense his question before you exhale through your nose.

“It’s just that it’s getting late and I-” Taehyung starts, wrapping a hand around the glass doorframe.

You shake yourself out of your funk and look at him fondly, your brows coming together in compassion.

Before your mouth can form a response, the phone at Taehyung’s desk rings. 

He gives you a small bow to pardon him before he jogs to his desk to pick up the phone.

“Yes, Sir. Yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes. Of course, Mr. Min,” Taehyung looks at you a few times, pointing at the phone. “I’ll send her right up.”

Taehyung's eyes widen at you before hanging up the phone.

You come to the threshold of your office, leaning your head on the frame.

“Was it Min?” You ask, and Taehyung nods in response. 

“He wants to see you immediately. Didn’t specify what it was for.” 

You chew at your lip and then dig in your pocket, tossing him your corporate card.

“I’m so sorry, Tae. Do you mind staying until I come back? There’s just a lot going on this week with the product launch, and I’m sure he’ll add more to my plate,” Taehyung puts his hand up and shakes it.

“Of course. Anything you need.” He responds, slipping the plastic card in his pocket.

“Thank you.” You whisper, your hands in a prayer. He bows as his eyes watch you walk off.

Taehyung rolls his chair up to his desk, and he hits a few digits on the dialpad.

“Gonna be another long one,” Taehyung sighs out into the receiver.

“Same here Tete,” The singsong voice responds, equally as disappointed.

“I should have your cock in my mouth right now, but I’m here ordering takeout for the third time this week,” The voice whines.

“Jimin!” Taehyung growls into the phone, but the sound quickly dissolves into a laugh.

“What’s so funny? It’s not good for my figure,” Taehyung can tell there’s a pout in Jimin’s voice.

“Especially my ass.” Jimin continues, the pout growing deeper.

“I love your ass. Shutup.” Taehyung chuckles. “You said you’re stuck here late too?”

“Yeah. I know the product launch is coming, but Joon never stops working.” Jimin whines. “He got called upstairs by Min a few seconds ago.” Taehyung gasps and sits up in his chair, rolling it closer to his desk.

“Hmm…” Taehyung hums. He places his elbows on the surface, using his free hand to ruffle his silver locks.

“What? You sound interested.” Jimin inquires, and Taehyung drums the desk with his fingers.

“My boss did too.”

✹✹✹

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

The slow ticking of the clock snips through your veins. You press the nail of your index finger into the flesh of your thumb, creating a small crescent-shaped indent in your skin. 

You feel your heart picking up pace in your chest; steady thumps beating at your ribcage. You turn your hand around to stare at the indentation on your skin, waiting for it to vanish. It does, slowly.

You look at your boss through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of his office, his mouth busy moving in response to someone on the other end of the phone’s receiver. His hair is a textured bowl of platinum blonde, and his long, bony fingers move through a mass of papers on his desk.

You’re unsure of why you’ve been summoned; Yoongi never summoned anyone to his office unless it was serious. Being two days out from a product launch with you at the marketing helm...well, that was never a good sign.

After a moment, heavy, confident footsteps echo through the hall.

You see a man -- all legs in his dark, smartly tailored pants -- and he immediately diverts attention from your buzzing thoughts. His aura fills the entire space, and you sit up straight in your chair.

The man’s long wool trench coat brushes at his ankles, the black fabric stiff at the tips of his shoulders. He shrugs the coat off and carefully folds it in half, placing it on the chair behind him.

He suddenly feels your eyes on him from across the room, and his sharp gaze snaps over to meet yours. His eyes crinkle at the edges, and he extends his hand across the coffee table between the two of you.

“Kim Namjoon. I’m guessing you don’t know why you’re here either?” His voice comes out in a dark, velvety tone, catching you off guard. Your eyes can't help but fix on his as you shake his hand.

“Not a clue,” You respond coolly, and the dimples in his cheeks make themselves known.

You clear your throat as his eyes hang onto yours in return, and you feel your lips subtly part. Snapping yourself from his aura, you quickly release his hand and look around the room to find something else to concentrate on.

“Guess we’ll find out...” Namjoon shrugs, sliding back in his seat. You offer him a nod in response, nervously swallowing the exchange down your throat.

You then cross your legs, pretending to be busy on your phone. 

After processing the interaction, Namjoon licks the inside of his cheek -- his head hanging down in a mild defeat for a second. He reaches into his pocket to pull out a tattered copy of The Art of Loving.

As he reads, your eyes peel from your phone and notice the way his turtleneck hugs his form, the dark fabric dipping in at the valley between his firm chest. A few lavender-tinted hairs slide from Namjoon’s slicked back style into his dark brown eyes, and his smokey gaze suddenly rises up to meet yours.

Fuck. He’s caught you.

Your eyes widen in a few seconds of brief panic and dart back down to your phone. You move your thumb around through the pages of apps; it’s all you can manage so suddenly.

Namjoon smiles to himself as he looks back down, quietly dipping a finger to his tongue to stick to a page of his book. 

Before he’s able to turn the page, Yoongi pops his head from the office.

“You ready?” Yoongi asks, turning his head in your direction.

You nod and watch Yoongi shuffle back to his desk.

You inhale and smooth your skirt as you stand, noticing Namjoon’s eyes following your fingers as they glide over the red fabric adorning your curves. He calmly looks back down and blushes as you catch him; his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as he pretends to continue on with his book.

“Wish me luck,” You notice the way his gaze lit something sexual afire in you, but you couldn’t pay any attention to that right now. “Nice meeting you.” 

Namjoon looks up at you again, his fingers tense on the pages of the book.

“Likewise.” Namjoon’s smouldering eyes are fixed on you as he responds, and his gaze continues to follow you into Yoongi’s office.

You reach a chair across from Yoongi’s desk, sneaking a glance at Namjoon one last time over your shoulder.

Namjoon exhales the tension from his body as he watches you take a seat.

✹✹✹

You sit in the chair across from Yoongi’s desk, admiring the glittering cityscape behind him.

“I love being in here. It’s so refreshing.” You sigh, your eyes floating back to Yoongi.

“Yeah, kid? Well, it could be yours soon,” He chuckles. “I’m actually sick of looking at it. I’m ready to move onto my next venture.” Yoongi says this as if he’s in his forties, but he’s the youngest CEO in the vicinity. It's indicated by a giant, framed magazine cover of himself on a wall in his office: Top 30 Under 30 in Technology.

“C-Come again?” You murmur as you’re taken by surprise, and you sit up in your seat.

“You heard me. I want either you -- the CMO -- or Kim, the CTO running things," Yoongi says, standing up. He calls you over with his finger, motioning for you to sit in his chair. "Either of you are my best shot.”

You plop down in the cushy leather fabric, and your eyes meet Namjoon’s again. You purse your lips together and swirl the chair around to face the cityscape.

“How’s that feel?” Yoongi asks as he adjusts his cream turtleneck.

“Damn good.” You growl, your nails digging into the armrests.

“Well, there’s no reward without risk,” He says, and you raise your head in interest. 

“Try me, Min.” You demand as you cross your legs, leaning back in the chair.

“I want you to launch the product in my place at TechX this week.” He mentions casually, and you shriek in response as you shoot up from your seat.

“You can’t be serious, Min!” You throw your hands on your hips. “Isn’t that in two days? In Vegas? And like, the largest product launch ever for this company? ” You inquire, looking over at Yoongi.

“See! You understand the gravity of this launch. And yeah, and I haven’t even finished the keynote yet,” Yoongi cackles, slapping his thigh. “Partner with Kim on the presentation. It’s in front of twenty-thousand too, so make it good.” He sits down, racking away at the keys on his laptop. 

“You and Kim are both equally matched in terms of qualifications, so whoever can secure the biggest investors to ensure the longevity of the company will get a leg up in interviewing for the position.” Yoongi continues nonchalantly.

“Got it?” He taps one last key, stopping only to look up at you.

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, feeling a tightness creep into your chest.

✹✹✹

“Jimin, can you book my accommodations, please?” 

Jimin hands Namjoon a bag of takeout before he rolls his chair up to his desk. 

“Vegas, leaving tomorrow. Business class. King bed. That hotel that’s hosting the conference. You know the deal.” He rattles out, taking the bag of food. 

“Of course, Sir.” Jimin nods, watching Namjoon walk into his office.

Jimin navigates through a few windows on his screen before settling on a corporate travel portal. He’s able to book the flight without a problem, but the hotel is where he’s running into issues. He quickly dials up Taehyung, waiting for the other side of the call to pick up.

“Are you seeing the same thing?” Jimin asks, and Taehyung clicks his tongue.

“No rooms, right-” Jimin starts. “Just one left…” Taehyung cuts in to finish his sentence.

“But shit, there’s your boss and my boss.” Jimin twirls his finger around the coiled cord, pondering what to do next.

Jimin hears a eureka snap on the other end of the line.

“Crazy ass idea here, Jiminie,” Taehyung chuckles. 

"What is it Taehyungie?" Jimin purrs out, the curiosity rising in his voice at the end of the question.

“What if...they just stayed in the same room together? There’s only one King room available, and it’s the last room in the hotel. They’re both so...particular.” Taehyung continues, pressing his mouth into the receiver to keep his voice low.

Jimin throws his head back so far in laughter that his chair tips over. Taehyung hears a crash on the other end of the line, and hears shuffling noises as Jimin gets back up.

“Fell off your chair again?”

“Y-Yeah. God you're a genius! An evil one,” Jimin gathers his breaths. 

“I mean...she’s fucking hot. And she’s single as fuck because she’s holed up here every night.” Taehyung whispers into the receiver, making sure to glance over to check that you’re immersed in work.

“And Joon’s smoking hot, too. He’d melt her icy panties right off,” Jimin clicks his tongue before he slaps his desk.

“Dammit, we’re doing it. Think about it. Off work by five? What a world.” Jimin chirps, clicking away at his screen. “To add an extra layer of fun, I’m checking the romance option.”

“Jimin! Jimin. They’re gonna kill each other.” Taehyung giggles, gasping to catch his breath.

“Either they share a room and let romance bloom, or its whack-a-roach at the Motel 6.” Jimin’s tone is confident, but it makes Taehyung erupt into another fit of laughter.

“What? What’s the worst that could happen?” Jimin commands a response, but Taehyung continues to laugh.

“Mmm...we lose our fucking jobs?” Taehyung responds darkly.

The two pause for a second, but continue laughing into their phones.

✹✹✹

“What’re the topline details for the trip, Tae?” You ask, sliding on your sunglasses and pulling a handle up on your hardside luggage.

“Your flight...as you know is in three hours, and your car’s outside right now.” Taehyung walks up to you, handing you an iPad with a copy of your itinerary. “You’ll be staying at the Palazzo where the conference is held, and check-in should be getting started as soon as you arrive.”

“Mwah. You’re the fucking best,” You chef’s kiss your fingers. “This is exactly why I hired you.”

You pull your luggage behind you, but Taehyung puts his hand up. 

“Try not to get too excited. Please note that the room I was able to secure for you was the last room at the hotel two days before a conference of this size,” Taehyung says, pulling his hands behind his back.

“Okay...your point being?” You ask, pulling your sunglasses down to look into Taehyung’s eyes.

“Uhm, so, how do I put this?” Taehyung asks himself rhetorically, drawing his foot across the floor nervously.

“Tae...” You growl, your gaze slowly turning into a glare.

“Erm, you’ll have to share the room,” He starts. 

“With Kim Namjoon.” He winces as he gets the words out.

Your mouth drops open in shock, and your iPad crashes to the floor.

✹✹✹

You peruse through a luxurious spread of food in the airport lounge: crabsticks with melted butter drizzling from them, exotic finger sandwiches, spreads and dips and the like. You grab tongs, dropping a few items onto a small plate. You quickly look through the drinks on display and decide on sparkling water. 

Suddenly, you spot Namjoon arriving in the lounge and you quickly tuck the bottle of sparkling water into your armpit. You grab your plates, quickly followed by your luggage and make a mad dash for a secluded cubby in the back area.

You quickly throw on your headphones and prop up your iPad as you swipe through a few documents. 

Just as you stuff a crabstick in your mouth, you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look at the fingers, then up the veined arm wrapped with white cotton fabric, and you see Namjoon.

He licks his lips, letting out a shy chuckle just before he speaks.

“Did you really just try to avoid me?”

“Mm-maybh, ‘nd wh-r about it?” You blink at him, your words unintelligible as you slowly chew a mouthful of seafood. You furrow your brows, slightly irked by Namjoon seeing you in this state.

“I’m sure those two jokesters told you,” He continues, and you shrug as you delicately bite a small cucumber and cream cheese sandwich. “That you’ll be my roommate for the next two days.”

“I didn’t hear it, and I won’t acknowledge it,” You retort, dropping the last bite of the sandwich in your mouth. “I’m going to find another room if it’s the last thing I do.” You dust crumbs from your hands but stop as Namjoon lets out another light chuckle.

“There aren’t anymore in the whole of Vegas. I checked myself. The only other hotel left in town is the Trump Tower,” He crosses his arms and then shakes his head. “And no one wants to be caught dead there.”

“Fuck!” You can’t help but scream out, and a few people turn to look in your direction. You bury your head in your hands, and comb your hands through your hair in frustration.

Namjoon taps your shoulder again and you look up.

“Finger sandwich?” He asks, licking a finger as you glare up at him.

✹✹✹

A flight attendant walks by the two of you to do a visual safety check, and you’re in the middle seat -- Namjoon in the aisle. 

“Champagne? Champagne? Water?” Another attendant walks by with a tray full of alcoholic beverages. You spot her, reaching over Namjoon to grab a drink off the tray. She lets out a gasp, shock entangling her features. 

The beverage quickly makes its way down your throat, and you slam the plastic cup back on the tray. 

“Sorry. She’s not having the best of days,” Namjoon whispers to her and finishes his off as well, handing it to the attendant. She scoffs, continuing on down the aisle.

You shuffle your hand in your bag to locate your iPad, slipping it from its sleeve. As you look at the screen you sigh, your eyes roving over the deep cracks.

“Please turn all devices to airplane mode as we prepare for departure…”

The plane starts to rattle over the tarmac, turning to face a new direction every so often.

“What the heck happened to that thing?” Namjoon asks, leaning over to look at the fractured device.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” You respond without looking at him. You swipe through a screen of apps before clicking into Keynote. “I scanned through the presentation, and Yoongi was nowhere near done. We’ll need to wrap up by tomorrow evening.”

“We’ll also need to submit some requests to the photographer and Design team so that the remaining graphics and specs will be ready by the time we land in six hours…”

Namjoon nods, watching as you swipe through the slides, breezing through improvements for each. Your words seem to fade out, and he finds himself enamored by your gung-ho nature as he watches you speak.

“Got it?” You ask and notice Namjoon is silent, causing you to turn your head in his direction.

You search his eyes for a response, noticing his pupils are blown as he looks at you. He covers his throat so as to not give away the unexpected heat rising up his skin.

“Sure thing. I’ll have the Product team get right on all of that,” Namjoon responds before he looks down to type an email into his phone.

You look back down at your iPad, nibbling at the inside of your lip as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

You take a second to press your head back to the seat as the plane takes off.

Namjoon reaches below the seat in front of him and pulls out his iPad to begin typing information into the slides. He glances over at you furiously typing and swiping before you grimace.

“Ow, fff-” You growl, looking at your index finger. 

Blood starts to pool in a small cut, and Namjoon takes notice. You look over at him and watch him reach into his bag to pull out a travel-sized first aid kit. He takes out a small alcohol wipe and grabs your finger, pinching the towelette to it. You wince, sucking air in through your teeth.

“You should really get that fixed.” He says as he takes a small bandaid and covers the cut.

“Uhm, I will. Thank you.” You say quietly as you search his eyes, and then tuck your hair behind your ear again. 

You break eye contact with him as your heart starts to patter in your chest...and fuck. You know you're in trouble from here on out.

Namjoon chuckles to himself through his nose as he takes a world newspaper from an attendant.

The newspaper covers his face and you sneak to observe your finger -- trying to not let a smile curl up on the edges of your lips.

✹✹✹

“Checking in?”

A woman asks you in a singsong voice and you nod, motioning for Namjoon to give you his identification card. 

You're tired, hungry and irritable from the flight and certainly not willing to engage with this ultra-chipper woman right now.

“Ugh, beautiful! How long have you two been together?” She asks, smiling as she looks at the two of you.

“We’re not a couple and we’ve only just met, why do you ask?” You inquire, swiping through a few things on a digital screen anchored to the desk in front of you.

“Oh...you’re not?” You stop what you’re doing and look up at her. “No. We’re here for the TechX conference.”

The woman releases a nervous breath from her throat and readjusts her blouse.

“Well...oh my, the room I have booked for the two of you is one of our most romantic rooms.” She giggles out nervously, not sure what to do as she hands you a sleeve of keycards.

“I’m gonna fucking kill Taehyung when I get back,” You grumble, taking your credit card and the sleeve before you march off toward the elevator.

The elevator lobby is packed, and both you and Namjoon slip into a crowded elevator.

You find yourself suddenly sandwiched between the back of a woman and the front of Namjoon, and you tighten your muscles so you don’t make bodily contact with either of them.

The elevator jerks as it reaches the floor before yours, and Namjoon collapses over you. He looks down at you as his hands land to press on the wall on either side of your head as he holds himself up.

“God, sorry,” He groans as he waits for other people to exit before he can steadily stand on his own two feet. Your eyes grow wide as you look up at him, a prickly heat creeping up your throat. His face is so close to yours from the fall that you can feel his breaths on your skin. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking over at you as he’s able to stand up straight.

Namjoon thinks nothing of the brief moment, but you gulp and give him a silent nod.

“This is us.” He says before he clears the way, watching you walk out in front of him.

✹✹✹

As you enter the room, you hear smooth jazz floating from a digital radio.

You drop to your knees: you see rose petals on the bed, a bucket with ice and champagne, a towel swan and a bouquet of additional roses wrapped with packages of chocolate. You drop your head into your hands and laugh out loud, and Namjoon looks down at you. His eyes quickly scan the room and he lets out a screech before he covers his stomach to laugh.

“I-I s-swear we were set up,” You gasp for air through your laughs. “God.”

“The wall between the shower and our room is frosted. Frosted!” Namjoon yells as he waves his hand through it to show you as you approach. 

You both can’t help but giggle.

“God. I haven’t laughed that hard in so long,” You mention, swiping a tear hanging on at the edge of your eye. Namjoon smiles, his dimples lighting up his face.

There’s a sudden silence as your eyes meet, and you try to find something to busy yourself with -- deciding on unraveling the towel swan.

“Anyway, I’m gonna shower. We can just relax for now as we wait for everything to come in.” You quickly open your luggage and pull out a swimsuit and a cover up before heading into the bathroom.

“And oh. Please be an adult...no peeking?” You raise your brows as you pop your head from the bathroom. 

Namjoon nods in agreement, beginning to unpack his luggage. He grabs his clothes nonchalantly to head to a nearby drawer, but he unintentionally catches your silhouette in the shower.

Namjoon gulps as he feels a tightness growing in his jeans. He clears his throat, continuing on with placing his clothes into the drawer.

✹✹✹

“Okay, okay, yes. I’m so sorry. It was the best we could do under the circumstances, and yes-” Taehyung nods his head as Jimin takes another bite of a sushi roll.

“Oof, was that her?” Jimin asks, swiping his mouth with a napkin. 

“God, yeah. She’s pissed. And she yelled. She never yells at me, Jiminie.” Taehyung pouts.

Jimin laughs as he throws his head back, rubbing Taehyung’s back.

“Don’t worry Taehyungie,” He giggles. “I’m sure they’ll thank us soon enough.”

Taheyung smiles at him and opens his mouth to receive one of the rolls on his tongue.

The two giggle as they look at each other, mouths full.

✹✹✹

You swim in the Olympic-sized pool at the hotel before you pop up from underneath. 

A hand runs through your hair to smooth it on your head before you start to float on your back. The intense rays of the sun start to heat up your skin, but you nearly moan at how good it feels.

Namjoon settles down in a lounge chair before he sees you with your eyes closed on the water. 

You only have on a swimsuit, but in a man’s mind it was the near-equivalent of seeing you in your underwear. 

Namjoon attempts to sneak away before you can spot him, but your eyes open just as he does.

“Hey! Kim Namjoon! Is that you?” You shout, paddling up to the edge of the pool. He grimaces and meets you at the edge, looking down at you.

“Did you really just try to avoid me?” You throw his question from earlier back at him, smirking.

“What? No.” Namjoon scoffs and clenches his jaw -- a bit delighted, a bit turned on.

You tilt your head and raise your eyebrows, still awaiting a real answer. His thoughts are still racing for a clever response and you can tell he’s caught off-guard.

You emerge from the water, toweling your hair and body. His eyes widen as he tries to keep them focused on your face, and you smirk at him again. 

"Cat got your tongue?" You tease, wringing out your hair.

The devilish look in your eyes shoots straight to his water trunks and he presses his legs together. He quickly wraps the towel in his hand around his waist to cover himself before you detect anything, and your eyes follow his movements.

“Uhm, you know what...I don’t feel too well,” His voice trembles. “I’m gonna go back to the room.”

Namjoon takes off in a hurry, and you scoff as your brows come together in confusion.

✹✹✹

Namjoon lets out a few strained moans as he tugs at cock -- now rock hard and bulging with thick veins. His eyes squeeze shut as you come into memory, and he attempts to regulate his arousal through deep, frantic exhales. 

The way the sun was kissing your body, the movement of the water as it drizzled down into the valley between your breasts, the smirk and banter that lit his desire alight. He gasps as he strokes his cock faster, his grip growing firmer by the second. He feels his balls tighten, his cock growing stiffer with lust. 

He growls as he nears cumming, taking a moment to spit on in his hand and spread it generously over his shaft. He jerks his cock as fast as he can, his wrist snapping in different directions to switch up the sensation of his movements. He bucks into his hand at the last few moments, wondering what it’d be like to have you atop his cock instead. 

Namjoon cries out before his cock hardens, his thick load pulsing in random patterns across his chest. 

"Fuck," He suddenly hears footsteps floating down the hall and he swiftly pulls his trunks up.

He grabs a few tissues from the night table to quickly wipe himself off.

“Namjoon? I’m back,” You announce as you open the door. “The pool’s great, you can’t miss it.”

You enter and he tosses the tissues to the ground.

You observe that Namjoon’s form is rigid and that he’s sitting up on the bed as he scrolls through his phone. Something’s weird and quiet about the energy in the room, but you just shrug it off.

“Hey.” His tone is stoic, but you can sense his voice is caught in his throat before he clears it.

“Should we close out the final pieces of the presentation tonight?” Namjoon continues, his eyes now following you as you walk around the room.

“Sure thing, eight sound good?” You ask, smiling in his direction.

All he can do is look at you with his eyes wide and nod.

✹✹✹

“How’d you find this place?” You ask, picking up one of the books stacked on the table for display.

The rest of the bar is almost like a library -- straight from Beauty and the Beast. You look up and around as bookshelves from every angle are filled with books.

"Your drinks." A waiter arrives, carefully placing each drink on the table.

"I like to wander and I stumbled upon it. I frequent here when I come to Vegas," Namjoon smiles at you, satisfied with himself. "It's a nice place to unwind and get work done outside of the hotel." You nod, impressed with his response.

"I love all of the giant KAWS figurines here, too," You mention, and he turns his head to look at you. "The valuation on those in a few years is gonna be insane."

"Oh, you like art, too?" He tries to hide the gush in his voice, but you chuckle to yourself.

"Sure do." You reply, taking a few small sips from your cup as you look at him.

As Namjoon sips at his Jameson whiskey on the rocks, you can't help but absorb his carefully slicked back hair and the leather jacket on his frame.

Namjoon notices from his peripheral and bites his lip as subtly as he can, drawing his iPad from his briefcase.

After a few minutes, he looks up from what he's typing to see you've already downed half of your drink. You drop the cup from your lips and your eyes grow wide with embarrassment.

"God, sorry, please don't judge me," You chuckle as you peel the drink from your mouth and lick your lips. "They only have good French Martinis in two places in the world. Vegas, and Europe."

Namjoon chuckles back at you, and you notice his eyes float down to your lips. 

Your breath quickens for a second, but he breaks eye contact by looking down. He purses his lips and his dimples pop out before he looks at you through his lashes.

"You've got a little something..." He motions at the foam on your upper lip, and you attempt to swipe it with your tongue. He shakes his head a few times as you continue licking your lips to no avail.

"May I?" He asks warmly. With a nod from you, he takes a miniature napkin to wipe your top lip. He's so close that you can smell the spice of his cologne, and you look into his eyes. 

A slight panic forms in his gaze before he pulls back.

“There.” He says without looking at you, placing the napkin on the table.

Both of you shake the interaction off, and you reach into your bag to pull out your iPad.

"I had Taehyung drop in the graphics. All we have to do is finish up the text," You say as you start to type, and Namjoon brings his focus back to his slides.

"Got it. I had Jimin drop in the brief outline he retrieved from the Product Lead, so we can just work from that as we go along." Namjoon chimes in, and you nod.

"I'll activate the full social strategy and content team back at the office," You continue as you type. "I'll let them know that we're almost locked so they can get ready to fire up the site and social promotions."

Namjoon smiles to himself again, absorbing the incredible synergy between the two of you. It only pushes him harder...and makes him harder. He clenches his jaw as he feels the sensation filling his lower half, but he shakes his leg to stay focused.

"Is there something wrong?" You ask, looking down at his leg.

"Hmm?" He asks, not even noticing his leg still moving. 

"Oh!" He says looking down and stretching his foot out, but it bumps yours instead.

"Fuck. Sorry!" He yelps. You chortle, continuing on with writing. 

You look at him for a bit through your peripheral, admiring his absolute focus on the task at hand. He picks up a pen to draw it around his plump lips, and you can't help but feel a twinge between your thighs. You inhale and let out a breath to take your focus off the sensation.

Just as you do, a crackle of thunder rips through the air and a few customers gasp and break into a din. 

You and Namjoon look at each other, and a few flashes of lightning light up each of your features in the dim bar.

"We should get going before it rains," Namjoon says as he starts to pack his bag. "We can finish this up at the hotel." 

You follow suit.

✹✹✹

As the two of you walk outside, the rain begins to trickle. Despite the warm Vegas air from earlier, the temperature significantly dropped in the evening and it made you shiver.

Namjoon notices, and despite him being cold -- he drops his coat on your shoulders.

"Oh. Please don't do that on my behalf." You say as you look up at him, but he keeps walking.

You couldn't worry long, noticing as raindrops begin to soak Namjoon's white tee.

"Just up here," He looks down at you and points at the hotel, but it suddenly starts to pour. He grabs your hand to quickly pull you across the street before the light changes, and you pull his jacket over your head.

Namjoon doesn't stop running until the two of you land in an empty elevator. He sighs, slicking his wet hair back with a hand. You notice that his shirt is soaked, seeping into the grooves of his firm chest and abdomen.

You arrive at the door to your room, nervously shuffling in your bag for your keycard. You can feel Namjoon's warm breath at the back of your neck, and you feel goosebumps form on your skin.

"Here." He says, reaching around you to insert his key. You feel as his body heat radiates around you as you walk through the door.

As you enter the room you shiver at the blast of air conditioning -- pulling Namjoon's coat further over your shoulders.

Namjoon returns from the bathroom with a towel, and removes his jacket from your frame. 

“Sorry, it’s totally my fault for suggesting a place so far away,” He wraps the warm fluffy towel over your shoulders, and you close your eyes in comfort.

"No, it was really fun," You open your eyes after a few seconds, shaking your head as you look up at him.

Namjoon almost looks away as you open your eyes, but his gaze fixates on yours -- causing you to lose the breath in your throat as you quickly look down.

"Thank you." Your voice only manages to come out in a whisper. You somehow get the courage to let your eyes scan his body, and then look back up to meet him still looking down at you.

Namjoon’s chest lightly rises and falls as neither of you break eye contact -- his eyes floating to your lips. He tucks your hair behind your ear, and your breath catches in your throat. His thumb moves to trace over your jawline and your bottom lip as he moves in to hover his lips over yours.

The air buzzes with a sparkling heat as your lips brush together -- neither of you wanting to be the first to make a move.

“We shouldn’t do this, right?” He whispers, the tip of his nose grazing over yours.

"No..." You whisper back, a bated desire in your voice. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You give him a slow nod, drawing your bottom lip in-between your teeth.

You lick your lips and he tilts your head to the side, his own lips inside the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“That red dress...from yesterday? It was all I could think about for the rest of the night.” The deep vibrations from his voice causes you to let out a satisfied moan as you tilt your head back.

“Does that turn you on?” He asks, his hands sliding down your body to grip your hips.

A heated lust overcomes you, and you let your lips feverishly embrace his. Your hands roam up his wet body and land over his shoulders before you pull him closer to you by the back of his neck. The momentum dizzies you both and your back slams into the wall.

His hands move to your waist as he covers you, pulling you flush against his hard, wet body. It causes your lips to part, and he slips his searing tongue into your mouth. You easily lose the upper hand as he grips your ass, causing you to let out a whine into his mouth. His plush lips kiss at your neck, and you run your hands through his damp hair as his kisses reach your collarbones.

Namjoon moves to wipe all of the items off a cabinet near you, and the chocolate and roses crash to the floor. He throws you on top of the surface, his lips eagerly gliding over yours.

Namjoon's hands roam up your dress and on the outside of your thighs as his fingers tuck under the top of the fabric of your underwear. He tugs at the fabric as if he's going to remove it, but he jerks it up hard instead -- soothing the growing ache between your thighs. He twists the fabric in a bunch so he can keep pulling at it in intervals to soothe your clit.

Your head falls back in desperation and he takes the opportunity to suck a hickey into the exposed skin. He nibbles at the skin harder and you gasp, gripping the back of his mullet.

Namjoon growls into your ear as you pull his hair, and yanks your underwear down each of your thighs.

Just as he does, he feels his wrist buzz. He pulls from your lips to look at his watch.

[Assistant: Park Jimin.]

Namjoon lets out a long exhale through his nose. He rests his forehead on yours, both of your lips still swollen and vibrating from the session.

"I have to take this," He lets out in a deep exhale before touching a green icon on his watch to receive the call.

"Are you alright, Sir?" Jimin asks, hearing Namjoon’s intense breaths cooling on his end.

"Just came from the gym, don't worry about me. What’s on fire?" He breathes out, and the edges of your lips curl upward at the lie.

"Nothing at all, Sir. I've just called to give your daily rundown as requested." Namjoon sighs, forgetting it’s something he did in fact ask for.

“Can I call you back in five?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head.

After Jimin hangs up, Namjoon immediately dives back into your lips. You savor it for a few seconds, but you tease him a few times as you pull away.

"I think we should finish up in the morning and get to bed," You whisper, your hand floating down his cheek. "Long day tomorrow." You bite your lip as you look into his eyes.

Namjoon lightly growls in disappointment as he pulls you down from the top of the cabinet.

You lift your hair up into a ponytail, and you turn around and look over your shoulder.

“Mind helping me with the zip?” You ask, and you feel the heat from his breath at the back of your neck drawing goosebumps from your skin. His breaths shallow out with every inch of the zip, and he lets out a light groan as it ends at the curve of your back -- just before your ass.

“Thanks.” You whisper as you head toward the bathroom, looking over your shoulder once more with a grin before you disappear around the corner.

Namjoon waits to make sure you’re gone before he screams into his fist out of frustration.

✹✹✹

“Seeya, I’m gonna head over to the conference hall to start getting prepped,” Namjoon mentions, stuffing a croissant in his mouth as he picks up his briefcase. “You said you’ll be a few minutes behind me, right?” He asks, using his free hand to push his glasses up his nose.

“Uhm, sure! Yes! Yesyesyesyes. Have a nice day!” You nod eagerly, your eyes wide as you watch him head toward the door. He furrows his brows, finding you a bit too enthusiastic.

As the door shuts, you hear his footfalls disappear down the hall and you toss your robe to the ground.

You take in a deep inhale. You knew you needed to be focused for this presentation, and you definitely couldn't have what happened last night top of mind.

Where to start? Him eyeing you in the office? The wet t-shirt? Oh, yes. There.

You sink down in the bed and slowly spread your legs, your fingers gliding over your already wet lips. You gasp in pleasure as you recall his plump lips dragging on your neck -- his teeth embedded in the sensitive flesh. It’s enough for you to dip a finger inside of yourself -- make it two -- before you let out a moan.

The thing that really made you wet, though, was his mind. The fucking book bar? Kudos. His knowledge of the product? Points. A tattered copy of a book about love? You were practically dripping down your thighs at the thought. Those nerdy glasses he wore before he left this morning? Fuck me.

It’s all enough to make you cum until-

Bzz. Beep.

You quickly draw the covers up on your frame and you can feel your cheeks burning as Namjoon enters the room.

“I...left my coffee...” He says cautiously, seeing your robe on the floor before his eyes meet yours. “Uhm, sorry?” His voice comes out in a high, questioning pitch -- and he grabs his coffee before he hurries himself out the door.

As the door shuts, you kick your feet around in the bed and then slap your forehead.

Fuck. He caught you.

[pollylynn]

Title: BPM WC: 900 Episode: Flowers for Your Grave (1 x 01)

It’s just a bit of serendipity at first. He metaphorically casts his eyes heavenward and pleads for someone—anyone—to come up to him and say something new. And there she is—a woman who’d like to talk to him about a murder. It’s Shave and a Haircut from him, and she doesn’t leave him hanging. It’s a detail he files away for when he tells the story later—a detail he will mercifully not have to create from the barren landscape that is his imagination—but that’s all he thinks it is. Just a bit of serendipity. 

It’s not long, though, before that little bit of rhythm extends well beyond two bars. On one level, it’s amusing. It frustrates the hell out of her that they keep falling into it. She—and he knows this from the moment she throws open the interrogation room door exactly three seconds after the smells therein reach truly unbearable levels—she specializes in . . . whatever the opposite of rhythm is. A tempo free jazz dreck or something. She is a virtuoso at coming in somewhere in between the e, the and, and the uh to keep her victims constantly off balance. And yet, here the two of them are. 

Here they find themselves all through their too-brief time in her chamber of olfactory horrors, and then through the rat-a-tat-tat with her Captain, who clearly wouldn’t dream of disrupting the groove the two of them irresistibly fall into. Even when she tries to resist, it’s hopeless. She’s silent in the briefing room. Mum is definitely the word, and yet the merest rustle of the trifold page in his hands acts like a pick-up measure and she comes in exactly on the downbeat. 

What?! she demands, and they’re off. She peppers him with rhetorical questions. He answers with his own. She denies his premise—she scoffs at the idea that there’s always a story—and the duet shifts in his direction. It’s Sondheim-level patter on his end. She nods along, she arches an eyebrow exactly in sync, not in the least thrown by the rapid-fire shifts in time signature. It is a bravura performance on both their parts until it isn’t. 

It was someone you loved. 

That is the record-scratch moment. But why is the record scratch moment? 

The look on her face—the way the shutters fall and hide the light in her eyes from him, suddenly and absolutely—is the most likely explanation. It would be, if he were anyone else, but this is what he does. He pulls levers and pushes buttons and approaches the whole wide world with a cheerful what does this one do? attitude. So as much as he’d like to give himself credit for a late-in-life growth spurt in the empathy department, it’s not the look on her face that’s jounced the needle right out of its very pleasant groove.

Self-preservation would seem to be in the number two spot, as far as explanations go. He has known Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, for well shy of twenty-four hours, and already there’s little doubt in his mind that she not only would straight-up murder him, she could do it and somehow walk away with a commendation apologies from the city for putting her to the trouble. A desire to keep drawing breath might account for the fact that he hasn’t tried to figure out what the two of them could get going on the B-side, but that’s not it, either. He is lately of the opinion that drawing breath is pretty over-rated, for one thing.

It’s a conundrum—a surprisingly arhythmic word, given that it’s got a damned drum in it—but that’s what this record-scratch moment is. A conundrum. 

That’s what it remains until he’s peering into tiny foam core windows in Jonathan Tisdale’s office. It’s the strangest thing, the way she falls into the most pedestrian back-and-forth with Tisdale. He’s annoyed by it. He is affronted, because he could be home watching one of the lesser CSI franchises if he was in the market for an interrogation this uninspired. 

And then she’s practically dragging him out of there. She is hissing at him in front of the man she should be knocking off balance, and if she’s over their brief turn as a superstar duo, he’s prepared to go solo. So he does. He lands his punches, one-two, one-two—three—daughter, profit, happens to you. 

The word children crashes into the word son. A soundless, anguished cry vibrates between Jonathan Tisdale and Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. He is outside—utterly outside—the temporary world, population two, that cry creates. 

It was someone you loved. 

A sister. A father. Maybe even a child. That’s the someone something happened to. They are the someone behind the record scratch. He knows this and he doesn’t know it. There’s still his critical dearth of empathy, after all. 

He doesn’t really know until her lips are practically brushing his ear and his heart falls out of one rhythm and into something far finer. 

You have no idea. 

No. He doesn’t have any idea, but he wants to have one. And he can’t stand the thought of a heart that broken beating in her chest. It was someone she loved, but not like that.

A/N: Out of things to watch. Struggling with every other kind of writing I might attempt. This is good discipline or something? We’ll see if it sticks IDK. 

images via homeofthenutty

[news-venue]

Ramadan brings one of Delhi's last sehri criers to the streets

Mohammad Raees, like his father, keeps alive tradition of waking Muslims of India's capital for suhoor

As the clock reaches 2.45am, Mohammad Raees embarks on a 90-minute dash through the alleyways of the walled city of Old Delhi, yelling “Hoshiyar” or “be alert” to waken Muslims who observe Ramadan to eat before fasting begins at sunrise.

He goes to every household, climbing steep staircases, bellowing the names of the residents of Matia Mahal area near Jama Masjid, a 17th-century mosque in the heart of the capital.

“I remember all their names by heart. There must be 400 families, and I make sure that no one is left out,” he told The National.

Mr Raees, 45, is one of the last remaining sehriwallahs, or town criers, in old Delhi, which is home to nearly a quarter of a million Muslims.

Sehriwallahs were traditionally given the job of waking residents for sehri, the Urdu word for suhoor, the early morning meal taken before fasting begins.

They were once an essential part of Muslim neighbourhoods, with their torches and lanterns, singing religious songs and beating drums to wake the faithful in times before clocks became common.

Almost every locality had its own criers, who were chosen by the local mosques or had volunteered for the task. Many sehriwallahs would migrate from villages for the month-long tradition. Alarm clocks, smartphones and other modern inventions have made that tradition obsolete.

Mr Raees, who has two daughters, succeeded his father as a sehriwallah.

“After my father’s death, the imam at the mosque gave me his stick and asked me to fulfil the duty. Since that day, I have been doing my work religiously,” he said.

Although many in the market community with its restaurants serving Mughal and Middle-Eastern-inspired delicacies remain awake for dawn, Mr Raees’s role seems critical to ensuring no one sleeps through the time for sehri.

“Whether it is rain or winter or blistering heat, I don’t take a day off. I am devoted to my duties. This is my legacy, and I have to take it forward,” said Mr Raees, a resident of Minto road area near Old Delhi. Wearing worn-out leather sandals, his early morning journey journey takes him along about two kilometres of uneven paths blocked with parked motorcycles and dark, narrow lanes.

At times, he may keep knocking on a door of a family home with his wooden stick until he gets a response, to ensure they have their meal in time.

Children can be heard from windows, demanding he say their names. There could be up to six people in a family but, despite his rush, Mr Raees fulfils their request.

“I don’t feel tired at all even though I fast the whole day. I always feel energetic doing this. It has become my habit.”

“In fact, I enjoy it because people eagerly wait for me. Even small kids, they ask me to take their names,” he said.

For the rest of the year, Mr Raees works at a bangle shop and makes about 8,000 rupees ($105) a month.

Readmore:https://www.thenationalnews.com/world/2022/04/15/ramadan-brings-one-of-delhis-last-sehri-criers-to-the-streets/

[between-two-fandoms]

Just Enough

Read on Ao3

When Bobby notices Luke acting off after a gig he takes up the job of getting his many dumbass boyfriends to talk about their emotions... even if Bobby himself sucks at emoting half of the time.

Word Count: 1,333

Bobby watched as Luke bounced around the venue they played at for their gig. His eyes trailed after the frontman of Sunset Curve watching as Luke let himself be happy for once, bouncing form table to table, merch bag clutched over his shoulder. The thing about Luke Patterson though, the thing that people didn't quite understand... was that he's the literal human embodiment of a puppy. He'll bounce around all day writing music and demanding attention and despite Bobby's protests he'd snuggle up against him on the couch in the studio. 

The downside of this meant that whenever Luke got sad he had that kicked-puppy-dog expression nailed down perfectly and if someone - namely Reggie or Alex - didn't nip it in the bud they'd have to deal with the fall out of a grumpy Luke the next day. He turned around to grab another drink from the bar counter - club soda, despite using their fakes apparently some bartenders still had morals - and when he turned back his immediate thought was fuck because Luke was sitting alone at a table, the merch bag forgotten at his feet. His shoulders were hunched over and as Bobby approached him he could see Luke's furrowed eyebrows and the frown etched across his face. When he finally got close enough to see what Luke was doing he could see the guitarist furiously scribbling something down onto a napkin. Luke's handwriting was absolute shit but Bobby didn't even think the shapes he was writing were letters. Slowly and tentatively he slid into the seat across from Luke. Bracing himself slightly he asked, "you wanna tell me what's up? Usually you're halfway through the crowd by now." Luke sniffled and a tear rolled down his cheek and Bobby silently prayed to whatever god that existed for Alex and Reggie to turn up again soon because Bobby was not equipped enough to deal with an emotional Luke right now.

“Nothin,’” Luke mumbled, snarling in frustration when his pen snapped and ink exploded all over his hand. Bobby instantly lurched over the table in time to catch the glass from shattering onto the ground. “‘S stupid,” the guitarist said, not at all looking like the Luke Bobby was used to talking… at all. But he knew from experience that ignoring Luke when he got like this would just make the situation once. 

“Luke if whatever happened got you this upset -” Bobby got cut off by a loud amp popping and Luke jumped a mile into the air. “Okay yeah no we’re not doing this here,” Bobby said, holding out a hand waiting for Luke to take it. It ended up taking longer than Bobby would’ve liked to get Luke out of the venue and back in the van. Luke fell into the van when Bobby let him try to climb into it himself so Bobby wrapped an arm around him and helped him lean against the side of the van, sinking to the ground with his head between his knees. Where the fuck were Reggie and Alex? Bobby thought, awkwardly trying to comfort Luke by rubbing circles against his back. 

“Said I was bad.” When Luke spoke Bobby almost missed it, exhausted to the point of almost passing out he almost missed the barely whispered words that bit into the cold night air. Bobby sagged next to Luke, using the wall of the van to support his back as he let his legs straighten out ahead of him.

“Who said that?” Bobby asked, trying not to look surprised when Luke wrapped his limbs around him, burying his face into Bobby’s shoulder. “Hey they’re wrong you know that right?” Bobby said, attempting to gain some traction. If Reggie and Alex came back to a broken down Luke then Bobby was dead. He was deader than dead. He would be buried six feet under by tomorrow morning and then some. Luke sniffled but he nodded and Bobby could feel his tears soaking through his t-shirt.

“Sometimes it just - it just gets too much,” Luke muttered, instantly relaxing more when Bobby started to play with his hair. He ran his fingers through it, trying to brush out the knots and braid the long locks like he’d always watch Alex due during movie nights. When he managed to tie it off with some loose fabric from his shirt the final product didn’t look half bad.

“You know you can always come to me right? I know I don’t… I don’t show I care much but I do Luke. You gotta know that, I do care about you,” Bobby said cursing to himself when his throat choked, his voice cracky and dry.

“I know,” Luke said, letting Bobby pull him closer until they were flush against each other. “‘S easy to forget.” Bobby hummed and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Luke’s head, smiling slightly into his now-braided hair.

“I don’t mind reminding you of it,” Bobby whispered, placing another kiss on the crown of Luke’s forehead when he pulled away so they could look at each other. The van doors opened and the moment was over, Reggie squeezing his way between the two of them and Alex standing outside of the van with his arms crossed looking at Bobby with a disapproving glare.

“No fair I missed a Luke snuggle?!” Reggie cried out, burying his face into Luke’s back. Bobby just gave Alex a helpless sort of what-are-you-going-to-do shrug when Reggie and Luke decided his lap made a good pillow for the night.

“You were supposed to drive us home,” Alex accused, staring at Bobby pointedly. Bobby knew Alex wasn’t really mad at him though, the twinkle in his eyes gave it away.

“Think of it this way,” Bobby said with a smirk when Luke’s loud snore cut through the air. “When we get back to my house you and I can get up to a ‘lil something something.” Alex choked in disgust, throwing the closest thing on hand - one of his drumsticks - at Bobby’s head but his aim was off and Bobby had to reach out to catch it before it hit the back of Reggie’s head. He twirled the stick in his hand before tossing it behind Alex’s drums grinning at the drummer’s annoyed huff.

“You’re disgusting,” Alex complained when Bobby pulled him in for a kiss without managing to disturb the sleeping bandmates in his lap. When Bobby started to pull away Alex let out a little whine and pressed his lips deeper into the kiss. 

“You know you love me,” Bobby said back when they pulled away from each other. “Want me to drive?” He asked seriously, knowing Alex had been getting little sleep throughout the week and didn’t want him getting behind the wheel if he was tired. Alex shook his head,

“Nah I’ll be fine. Think I drank like, twelve cups of coffee in that place. Man I can’t believe we found the one bartender in the entire world who wouldn’t buy our fakes.” Alex whined as Bobby planted another chaste kiss against his lips.

“Yeah well we’re illegal anyways. Besides we gotta get our boys back home Alex. Let me know if you want to switch!” Bobby shouted out as Alex swung the big doors of their Sunset Curve van shut. A few minutes later the engine roared to life and Alex’s trashy pop music was playing through the cassette player and Bobby couldn’t help but let out a laugh. If Luke ever found out Alex played pop in the van then he was going to get killed and they’d be in the market for a new drummer. Sitting on the floor of their van wedged between Alex’s drums and his boys Bobby let himself doze off into a peaceful sleep, knowing nothing would ever be able to tear them apart. It was just enough for Bobby to feel like maybe his life wasn't really in shambles. Just enough to finally give him a real sense of home.

[monstersdownthepath]

Spiritual Spotlight: Angazhan, the Ravenous King

Chaotic Evil Demon Lord of Apes, Tyrants, and Jungles

Domains: Animal, Chaos, Evil, Plant Subdomains: Decay, Demon, Fur, Growth

The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 18~19

Obedience: Ingest hallucinogenic jungle plants and then beat a complex rhythm on a large drum made of human skin and bones while chanting prayers to Angazhan. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws against diseases and poisons caused by exposure to the jungle or inflicted by creatures native to jungles.

Heurgh, Angazhan has some pretty restrictive requirements here, and his Benefit really only works against a single environment, making Angazhan one of the most environmentally-locked deities since Dagon! It’s fitting, considering Angazhan is basically only worshiped in Darkest Africa the Mwangi Expanse, a massive and terrifying jungle he’s had his six-fingered hands buried deep into ever since humanity began settling the land. Since worship rarely ever leaves a jungle home, any player character wanting to serve the Ravenous King had better make sure they’ll be sticking close to the vine-draped homeland, or they’re just completely out of luck! Not just because they lose out on the benefit above, but because they lose out on a good number of Boons too!

anyway, it’s a difficult alignment to set up for and keep a secret, if you’re trying to hide your worship of the Tyrant King. You COULD pass off the drum as being made of animal tissues, but the loud chanting to a known and famous Demon Lord and the fact you’re likely to be seeing stars and colors due to your Hearty Breakfast is much harder to explain if someone kicks your door in. The fact you need both jungle drugs and a drum means this Obedience is utterly ruined if you get robbed or have your equipment stolen, though at the very least it’s easy enough to replace your belongings... if you’re in a jungle. If you’re not, getting a new drum is simple, but a visit to the black market may be necessary to restock on your Hearty Breakfast.

The benefit is notably weaker than other benefits of a similar theme; a few deities are generous enough to give universal protections from poison and disease, but Angazhan punishes you for going where he cannot tread. Fitting for a tyrant who likes having people under his thumb, but annoying for someone trying to actually extend his reach. In a jungle area, however, it’s MUCH more impressive than it looks in a vacuum; many, many, many, MANY horrors within the deep and mysterious tangles rely on poisons or disease to fell their enemies and their prey, so the added protection will always come in handy!

Boons are acquired slowly: the first once you reach 12 hit dice, the second at 16, and the third at 20. However, the Evangelist, Exalted, and Sentinel Prestige Classes can be entered as early as level 7; doing so grants you the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Servants of demons may also take the Demoniac Prestige Class; you don’t get the Boons any faster than E/E/S, but you may select which Boon set you get, and you get cool demon-related powers!

------- EVANGELIST -------

Boon 1: The Jungle Consumes. Gain Pass Without Trace 3/day, Tree Shape 2/day, or Spike Growth 1/day.

‘Consumes’ indeed; Spike Growth can render a frankly offensive amount of terrain completely inhospitable (ten 20ft squares!), shredding 1d4 HP off every creature trying to pass through a single 5ft square and threatening to halve their movement speed for a full day every time they take damage. As anyone who’s played as or fought against a Druid can attest to, Spike Growth is useful for exactly two things (slowing an enemy’s retreat or advance) but it’s amazing at doing so. The sheer amount of terrain the spell covers and the length of time it covers for (an hour per level) makes useful for stopping everything from a charging dragon to a charging army... provided your foe has less than 4 DR. In order to halve someone’s movespeed they need to actually take damage from the growth AND fail a Reflex save, meaning even the meager DR 5 you’re likely to encounter at levels 10+ is enough to make Spike Growth completely irrelevant.

If you can use it against a foe who’s not immune to it, though, it’s absolutely stellar. Moving through even a single 20ft square triggers four separate Reflex saves to avoid having one’s movespeed halved for a full day, and--as written--the halved speed can’t be undone with Fast Healing or Regeneration, the victim MUST find a Cure spell. Perhaps the biggest downside is that using it to its fullest potential--that is, to cripple a charging swarm of foes--is unlikely to happen, delegating it to crowd control versus a small amount of enemies.

It’s leagues better than the niche Tree Shape, but Pass Without Trace also has its merits, hiding up to 10 people from sniffing noses and prying eyes for half a day, letting you and your allies effortlessly vanish into the foliage. Indeed, all three of these spells are extremely useful in the jungle setting Angazhan demands you remain in, so if you ARE actually hiding around in the Mwangi Expanse, all three of these can be genuine picks depending on if you plan to be a trapper, a stalker, or a sentree that day.

Boon 2: Canopy Crawler. Your feet become prehensile and apelike, allowing them to act as a second pair of hands for every purpose except wielding a shield or weapon, such as to execute somatic components, to aid in climbing, to hold objects, and to maintain your Dexterity bonus to AC while climbing. In addition, you gain a climb speed equal to your walking speed +10, and can attempt a Climb check in place of the following checks: Acrobatics checks to swing or leap between branches and vines; Stealth checks to remain hidden within trees, and you can move at full speed through them without penalty; and Stealth checks to snipe from trees, the penalty for doing so reduced by 10. 

The way this ability is written in the book is kind of a mess, so I tried my best to shuffle it into a more easily digestible form.

Anyway: Freaky monkey feet! For all your freaky monkey feet needs! One of the more unique Boons in the game, and unlike most highly unique Boons, this one is still highly useful! While your handfeet can’t wield weapons or shields, you can use them for more or less anything else while your actual human hands are occupied. Sleight of Hand? No, my friend, I’m on a completely different level.

The big star here is the free climb speed, which automatically gives you a meaty +8 to Climb checks, making the various skill checks it replaces much, much easier to exploit. You become an expert of gorilla... guerrilla... Gorilla Guerrilla Warfare, soundlessly moving from tree to tree and hurling spears or firing arrows with nary a peep but for the whoosh of the weapon through the branches and leaves, moving from position to position as easily as playing hopscotch. Even if you never invested in Stealth at all, you can suddenly pour ranks into Climb and become an ersatz Rogue for the party, leading a silent charge against the foes of the Ravenous King’s cult. 

Side note, this ability combines beautifully with all 3 of the spell-likes from The Jungle Consumes, as your brachiating movements put you above Spike Growth, Pass Without Trace makes you utterly impossible to nonmagically track if you attack at night, and Tree Shape lets you become a horror movie villain that vanishes the instant it appears you’re about to be ‘caught.’

Boon 3: One With The Jungle. While in the jungle, you gain blindsight to a range of 60 feet, you gain a +2 insight bonus to AC and on saving throws, and you are never flat-footed or surprised. You ignore cover and concealment caused by natural features of the jungle, as the very plants and stones twist out of the path of your attacks and spells.

An eternal Diet Foresight if your reward for remaining in the Ravener King’s grip, but this ability--unlike Canopy Crawler--is entirely blank if you adventure outside of your god’s chosen locale, a punishing loss of an otherwise incredibly strong defensive ability. Being impossible to catch by surprise is good enough on its own, especially at levels where enemies can have Sneak Attacks exceeding +4d6, poisons that cause people to hemorrhage ability scores, or fatal grappling embraces, to say nothing of what happens if a spellcaster gets the drop on everyone. The +2 to AC and universal bonus to saving throws will struggle to make a difference, but it’s a rare insight bonus and will thus stack with all your existing bonuses... and, of course, it lasts forever so long as you remain in a jungle.

I enjoy that the jungle will shuffle aside to let you shoot and swat your enemies without penalty, making my ‘treetop sniper’ suggestion in Canopy Crawler even more viable. Now, as long as you can see even the smallest portion of your target, the natural world will bend and sway to avoid your blows so that they always strike true, letting you attack enemies without the possibility of them retaliating unless they begin cutting down the whole jungle... at which point they’ll have much bigger issues than just you.

------- EXALTED -------

Boon 1: Jungle’s Wrath. Entangle 3/day, Bull’s Strength 2/day, or Summon Monster III (1 fiendish ape, 1d3 fiendish advanced baboons, or 1d4+1 fiendish baboons) 1/day.

Bull’s Strength is always nice to have to give the beefy members of your party, giving them an extra +2 to attack and damage rolls for ten or so minutes at a time, among other bonuses. Strength bonuses are some of the most boring but practical things you can hand out, because you never know when you’ll just need to do something as simple as moving a large rock or hit something for 2 more points of damage than normal. Having it at twice a day means it’ll likely carry through the most important battles or puzzles you’ll face.

Entangle, however, tends to be the better option here. See everything I said above about Spike Growth? Paste that here, as well, but trade off the damage for the ability to grapple everything trying to move through the 40ft radius(!) of plantlife you’ve affected. In some ways it’s better than Spike Growth, utterly halting the movement of anyone heading through it if they fail their save rather than halving it, and being difficult terrain even if the victims succeed, which halves their speed anyway.

Seeing summoning abilities on a Boon is usually good, but the painful limitation of only being able to summon various demon apes means it severely lacks its normal Swiss Army application. It’s only really good if you need either a distraction, or something heavy moved, both of which could be accomplished with Entangle and Bull’s Strength without it being tied to a creature with subhuman intelligence. At the very least, apes have humanoid hands and can thus perform tasks very few other summoned creatures could do, such as wielding weapons.

Boon 2: Summon Child of Angazhan. 1/day as a swift action, you can summon an Advanced Fiendish Girallon, 1d3 Advanced Fiendish Dire Apes, or 1d4+1 Advanced Fiendish Apes as if you had cast Summon Monster VI.

In spite of my mockery of the Boon above, the ape restriction here is anything but painful. ... well, it’s painful for anyone who’s not you, mind. An Advanced Fiendish Girallon is a CR 8 monstrosity with enough damage output and resilience from the Fiendish template to punch above its weight class. A Girallon is a four-armed, Large-sized ape beast with five attacks (and Rend!) a round, with enough agility and maneuverability to run down fleeing foes or chase them through just about any terrain easily.

It’s also your best option among the summons; the Dire Apes and normal apes are nice, but the chance of summoning a single Dire Ape or a meager 2 fiend apes means a Girallon is the best go-to unless you need a lot of bodies rather than one large one. The Fiendish template is really what gives this ability the oomph it needs to shrug off most of my criticism of Jungle’s Wrath, granting even your normal apes a bit of Spell Resistance and elemental resistance to Fire and Acid... though, notable, both the normal ape and the Dire Ape have too few HD to gain the advanced benefits of the Fiendish template, and none of the creatures here have high enough Charisma to make the Smite Good ability granted to them useful, even with the +4 to all ability scores from Advanced.

Perhaps the biggest gold star this power has, however, is the fact that it can be used as a swift action. You can instantaneously flank an enemy with a murderous gorilla and then stab them in the back when they rightly turn around to look at said murderous gorilla in disbelief, or you can blast them with another spell, or you can do any number of other things with the distraction you’ve just created. Don’t forget that Summon Monster VI also has a range of Close, letting you hurl a demon gorilla at an enemy from 25+5ft/lvl away. The downside, however, is that SMVI also has a duration of a meager 1 round/lvl, meaning you’ll often run into the issue of saving the use of this ability, often until you no longer need it.

Boon 3: Jungle’s Might. You gain a +2 profane bonus to your Strength score and a +2 bonus on Fortitude saving throws.

Useful but boring. It’s moderately better than most stat-buffing Boons thanks to the additional Fortitude bonus, but final Boons typically give +4 bonuses, not +2. There’s no flash or pizazz here, nothing to really expand upon, so lets move on!

------- SENTINEL -------

Boon 1: Tyrant’s Roar. Gain Command 3/day, Sound Burst 2/day, or Suggestion 1/day.

I almost got mad because I mistook Sound Burst for a different, much worse spell. Nope! That was sonic scream or whatever, one I’m so unimpressed with I didn’t even bother looking it up. Sound Burst is significantly better, anyway, able to stun a small crowd of enemies in a single casting, which is exactly what you--as the Sentinel--want to happen. Either because you’re holding back an enemy(/ies) for your allies to get into place, or because you’re holding them still so you can get in close. The damage it deals is pitiful, but it’s automatic even if they succeed against the stun effect, and you never know when 8 damage to up to a crowd will make a difference!

Like most of Angazhan’s blessings, it gets better if you’re in a jungle, as the hostility of the Mwangi Expanse means invaders are likely to be clustered together as tightly as possible to prevent attacks from all angles. Punish them, hard.

Command is in-character for the Tyrant King, and it rewards creative uses beyond the ‘come,’ ‘stay,’ and ‘drop’ commands, though those serve their purpose well enough. I’m quite partial to KNEEL, which fits Angazhan rather well! The only problem is that its low saving throw scaling means it’s unlikely to affect enemies that matter, and in combat it’s often much better to just rush in and start slapping. Out of combat Suggestion is king, though it’s an odd choice for someone who tends to force people to follow his orders through violence and threats rather than relying on coercive and subtle magic. Personally, I’d let the Face of the party or the dedicated enchanter rely on Suggestion, and carry Sound Burst around for those times you need to explode people’s eardrums.

Boon 2: Reign of Terror. You add your Strength modifier to Intimidate checks (this does not stack with Intimidating Prowess or similar feats and abilities) as well as your Charisma modifier. Once per minute, you may use Intimidate to demoralize a single creature within 30ft as a swift action, or all creatures within 10ft as a move action. When using Intimidate to demoralize a creature in this way, if your result exceeds the DC by 5 or more, the creature is frightened for 1 round and then shaken for the normal duration; if your result exceeds the DC by 10 or more, the creature cowers for 1 round, then is frightened for 1 round, and then is shaken for the normal duration. When you use Intimidate to demoralize an ally, instead of being shaken, that creature gains a +2 morale bonus on attack rolls for the appropriate duration.

While normally Boons are built to be taken advantage of by any class within the margins of those who can enter the Prestige Classes in the first place, sometimes you get one that forces you into a specific path. This one highly, highly rewards having both a high Strength and a high (or at least neutral) Charisma, and focusing a feat or two into making your Intimidate as high as possible can see you sending squadrons of enemy combatants scattering and trampling one another to get away from you. I love, love, LOVE that there’s no per-day use restriction on this power, only that it can be used once per minute, meaning you can bring it out in more or less every fight you encounter.

Exceeding the victim’s Intimidation DC by 10 or more causes them to cower, a status affliction barely above paralysis in how terrible it is to be suffering, opening them up to a whole round of being beat on without any ability to retaliate. Even if they survive the round of helplessness, they’re forced to run from you and use whatever resources they have available to get as far away from you as possible... which can be a blessing or a curse depending on what they were carrying and how badly you wanted it.

Being able to Intimidate a single foe as a swift action or a whole crowd surrounding you as a move action is strong, especially if you can bolster your prowess enough to always score 10 higher than their DC (a challenge, but not an insurmountable one)... And even if your enemies are immune to being intimidated either because they’re mindless, starved, or immune to fear, you can use this ability to give your whole team +2 to attack rolls for 4+ rounds. It’s more of a consolation prize than anything else, but note that the final sentence does not say “in this way,” meaning you can use Intimidate normally without needing the 1/minute bolstering to give your allies a bit more accuracy! Wasteful, but viable!

Boon 3: Unchallenged Tyrant. When you perform your Obedience, designate a number of present and willing creatures equal to your Charisma modifier; these are your Thralls. This designation lasts for 24 hours or until you next perform your Obedience. 3/day, you can infuse all Thralls within 50 feet of you as a swift action, granting them a +4 bonus to their Strength and Constitution scores and a +2 bonus on initiative checks, and granting any teamwork feats you have as bonus feats *for an number of rounds equal to your hit dice. If a Thrall dies within 50 feet of you at any time, you gain the effects of Death Ward (CL = half the Thrall’s Hit Dice, to a maximum of CL 20th).

*this ability originally had no listed duration, making it quite awkward and insanely powerful. I’ve added one that makes sense.

Oh, not bad! Another reward for buffing up your Charisma! Even if it’s just to a +2 bonus! And it’s a fine one, too, letting you enchant your allies with a discounted Barbarian Rage, including a bonus to initiative checks to help them move before your enemies even know what’s happening! THREE TIMES a day!!! And--wait, wait, there’s more? You also transfer ALL your teamwork feats to your Thralls? Teamwork feats are pretty powerful but wholly rely on your allies being willing to give up their own feat slots for them, and they utterly fail to work if you aren’t working together or become separated by enemy shenanigans. This ability (along with the Inquisitor’s Solo Tactics) turns those empty feat slots into something truly game-changing due to applying them to all of your Thralls at once. This means that, even if you don’t or cannot join in the fight, they can still use teamwork with each other, and all you need is one of them to be nearby to make use of feats like Lookout (if one of you can act during the surprise round, all of you can), Precise Strikes (+1d6 damage if you’re flanking an enemy)... or, perhaps the most useful of them, Coordinated Charge, allowing you and your allies to all charge the same target.

It doesn’t take a genius to see why Coordinated Charge is one of the best you can use with this ability, as the +Strength and Con bonus means you can turn even the weakest member of the party into another source of damage however small. It also means all of your melee battlers can get into the fray immediately, and if used in combination with Lookout, it can turn an enemy ambush into a pile of severed limbs and broken armor before they even realize what they’re up against.

I also like that if any of your Thralls die, you get a free Death Ward. If you know you’re going up against a necromancer or an Undead with Energy Drain, making an incredibly weak but tasty-looking creature one of your Thralls and sending them in to die is one less spell slot your Divine caster needs to use on you. I’m amused by the idea of blessing one member of your Sack Of Rats and just crushing it in your hand if you ever need a ward. If you have the Charisma for it, definitely try it out!

You can enter Monkis World here.

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 2

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 2 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 1 / Part 3

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, slight sentiments of sadness

Historical Inaccuracies:

I realise that ‘Time Waits For No One’ was partially a composition by Dave Clark, and not only by Freddie, but I’d imagine that he’d have liked that whole concept anyway, before Clark came along with his musical.

The picture below is from Christmas Eve, 1969, but we’re going to pretend that it’s from February, 1975 :)

Word Count: 4.3k

‧⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧

You awoke with a terrible sadness in your heart, and heavy-limbed, you climbed out of bed to the sound of rain and somebody making coffee in the kitchen. With a look at your alarm clock and a start, you realised that it was already ten minutes past eleven.

You traded your pyjamas for slacks and a jumper Heather had once knitted for you, wondering why melancholy overwhelmed you as you combed your hair from your eyes.

Dazed by sleep, you wandered into the kitchen with a yawn shuddering your frame. You blinked blearily at the shirtless blonde in your kitchen who was drumming his fingers on the counter along to the tune he hummed.

“Roger?” you said, confounded.

He spun around with an equally bewildered expression, his hands raised as though he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

His features broadened into a smile. “Y/N! You live here too?”

“Too?” you said. “Who else do you know here? And put on a shirt, Rog. You’re dressed if you’re in my kitchen.”

Roger stuck out his tongue at you, but pulled his shirt from where it’d been slung over a barstool.

You returned his lovely expression and he rolled his eyes at you in good nature.

You’d known Roger since you’d started at Imperial College and he’d started at London Hospital Medical College; you’d met him at the stall he kept in Kensington Market, selling clothes. Always talking about cars and his love for them, Roger was funny and charming, and quite intelligent, though the latter was a thing he downplayed in favour of his looks. You had never understood why boys thought that girls didn’t want a smart boyfriend, and when you’d mentioned it to Roger off-handedly once, visiting on a day he was working at the stall, he’d simply shrugged. “I’ll get them one way or another,” he’d winked.

Then, a sophisticated, sunkissed lad who was folding clothes had snorted from behind a clothing rack. “You won’t get her,” he’d said, referring to you. He’d then introduced himself with, “Freddie Mercury, darling. I can tell you where to find the nice boys, because Rog here isn’t one of them.” Freddie, of East Ealing Art College, was shy but creative, fashionable, and utterly lovely. He had known Roger since before school, and, aside from the clothing stand with Rog, was also in a band with him and a couple of others. Roger played the drums, and you knew that Freddie was an incredible vocalist, because you’d once caught him humming to himself and demanded he sing you more. You had fit right in with Roger and Freddie since day one, with your sharp wit and passionate romanticisms, and the three of you had quickly become good friends.

“So who’s the lucky lady?” you said, putting the kettle on for tea. For some reason, you didn’t feel like coffee this morning. The thought of its bitterness suddenly drew bitterness from you. “Or should I say ladies?” you trilled.

Roger smirked, leaned against the kitchen counter. “No, just the one lady. Think she’s still asleep, though, so try to keep it down,” he shushed.

You shook your head at him. “If she knows what you look like, she knows what you’re like, Rog. Don’t think you’ve got anyone fooled.”

“You’re such a good friend, Y/N. So supportive,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Funny,” you said, “I was told exactly the same thing last night, but I think he meant it, at least.”

Roger winced. “No getting down for you, then?”

You lobbed a coaster at him, but he caught it. “You need to stop just throwing things when you can’t think of anything to say, Y/N.”

“Stop being a prick, then,” you sassed him back.

“Okay, grumpy girl. Just because your little friend didn’t like you back.”

“For your information, he was actually very tall.”

A soft padding sound reached you from the doorway, and you glanced over to see Heather appear in the doorway, her mane of hair sticking up to one side and her pyjama top only half-buttoned.

“The hell is it with you people and shirts?” you muttered. “You’d think your mothers never taught you how to dress yourselves.”

Roger laughed at your comment, and Heather looked between the two of you.

“You know each other?” she said.

“Heather, honestly?” you scoffed. “My friend Roger who works down at the stall in Kensington?”

“Oh,” she said. “Same Roger?” You just blinked at her. “Common name,” she shrugged.

“You two know each other?” you gestured between her and Roger.

Roger’s smile was easy; he turned to Heather and his eyes ran over her, his lower lip between his teeth. Heather’s body language was obviously responsive.

“Ugh, no!” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Not a good image.”

“I thought we looked quite good together,” Heather flirted to Roger as you shuddered.

“Please don’t. Least not before breakfast,” you groaned, sliding off of the barstool as the kettle boiled.

Heather giggled, and you could still see Roger looking at her in your peripheral vision.

You busied yourself with making tea and pouring it into a thermos. Roger had walked over to kiss Heather, and you couldn’t get away from the sight of your two friends necking fast enough.

“I’m going out,” you said, grabbing the thermos, your keys, and boots.

“Oh, any chance you’re going to see Freddie?” said Roger from the doorway to the hall, arms around Heather.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“Got a message for him.”

“Could you not just telephone him?”

“There’s no phone at the stall.”

“Later, then?”

Roger frowned. “It’s important, please?”

You sighed heavily. “Fine, but only because I’m such a good friend,” you mimicked his words from earlier. “What is it, then?”

Roger grinned. “Tell him Clements says okay and eight o’clock sharp.”

Your puzzled expression seemed to amuse him. “I was going to tell you, but I’m sure Freddie will.” He waved a hand. “I haven’t got time right now.”

“You haven’t— oh forget it.” He’d gone back to snogging Heather, and there was simply no point in nagging him when it would be faster just to find Freddie.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Fred?” you poked your head around the stall, trying to spot him between the racks of colourful jackets and corduroy trousers, but failing for the life of you.

He popped up from underneath the table and you nearly leapt from your skin.

“Oh, hello, darling! How lovely of you to visit me,” he beamed, smoothing hair back from his face. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Jesus, Freddie, you scared me,” you exhaled laboriously, still recovering from your shock.

“Sorry about that, dearie. I’m afraid I’ve upset the moneybox and spilled it all under the table,” he said with an expression of dismay. “Help me look?”

You eyed your already questionably-clean trousers. “Yeah, alright then,” you said, squeezing into the stall beside Freddie. “Any idea how much was in there?” you asked as you sank to your knees.

Freddie lifted the cloth covering the table and threw it to the side. “Afraid not. Deacy usually handles finances and all that, after Norman Sheffield’s fuckery at Trident, y’know.”

You knew the soft-eyed, cheeky John Deacon as well. As the bassist in Freddie and Roger’s band and student of electrical engineering, Deacy (as he was known) was simultaneously the most well-mannered boy you’d ever encountered and also the greatest connoisseur of dirty jokes. Despite being only a year younger than you and Roger, Deacy was Freddie’s protegé, in a way, because Freddie had taken the younger boy under his wing in matters both of the musical world and of the world in general. You were quite sure that Freddie believed Deacy to be an innocent in need of protection, and that Deacy intended to keep his precious mentor fooled, particularly because some of the disco nightclubs that John had shown you and Rog suggested rather the opposite of his supposed personality. All in all, he was as dear to you as Freddie and Rog.

You laughed. “Freddie, this is just little coins. I’m sure you would’ve been okay to look after that.”

“Yes, well, not much time to count money when the most handsome men in London seem to stroll through this here market almost constantly,” Freddie huffed indignantly and you smiled in amusement. “Are you looking?” he said.

“Yes, yes,” you assured him, hastily picking up the coins in your immediate line of sight before beginning to scavenge for those which had rolled farther away on their escape routes.

“So, why are you here? I know you like our lovely little shop, but you’re usually studying on Saturdays.”

You sighed. “I probably should be. But Roger’s shacked it up with one of my housemates, my roommate, actually—”

“Heather?”

“Yeah, Heather.”

“Oh yes, he’s definitely her type,” gushed Freddie, spotting another coin and tossing it into the moneybox gleefully.

“He’s hers?” you said.

Freddie peered at you. “Well, really, Y/N. Roger’s type is everyone.”

“Fair enough,” you nodded. “And, oh,” you remembered, “I have a message for you, from Rog.”

“Ah. What’s it, then?”

“Uh, it seemed kind of cryptic, but he said you’d understand.” Freddie motioned for you to go on. “Let’s see. ‘Clements says okay and eight o’clock sharp’,” you quoted.

Freddie paused in his treasure hunt and clapped, “Oh, excellent!”

“Fill me in?” you pleaded finally, weary with excitement for that which you did not know.

Freddie clasped his hands. “We’re playing a gig, tonight, at the Union Bar!” he exclaimed. “We normally don’t play that small any longer, what with our increasing popularity, but we thought it would be nice to do a bit of an intimate concert once more, before we shoot for the stars and lose that privilege entirely.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” you said, knowing you were free tonight. You’d always wanted to see their band Queen, but the circumstances had never really lined up for you to do so, though Freddie had even offered for you to sit in on their rehearsals many a time.

“And you can finally meet our last puzzle piece!” said Freddie, his eyes alight. “Oh, he’ll adore you. Have I mentioned he’s studying some sort of science too? Maybe even similar to what you’re doing. I always seem to forget the name of it, though Bri is quite particular about it. He’d positively kill me with that glower of his if he knew I’d forgotten the name of it again. Oh, bugger,” Freddie went on. “It’s something to do with space. It’s on the tip of my tongue, I swear—”

But something had clicked inside of your head, and your palms felt oddly sweaty.

Freddie and Roger and Deacy had always referred to their fourth bandmate as simply ‘Bri’ or ‘Brimi’, or, in Fred’s case, ‘that bitch’, and so it had not occurred to you. You hadn’t known what he’d looked like, or anything about him, really, other than that he was a talented guitarist of a short temper and a motherly heart. But now you realised, with a fluttering sensation to accompany the thought, that you knew precisely who Brimi was, and that you had practically memorised his smile from seeing it nearly every morning of the past semester. Now, suddenly, the calloused fingers you had held in your own made perfect sense— Brian, the guitarist.

“Astrophysics,” you murmured softly.

“I’m sorry?” said Freddie, who had only just stopped in his flood of excited words.

“Astrophysics,” you repeated more loudly.

Freddie’s brow creased. “Yes, yes that’s it. I’d better commit it to memory, now. But how’d you know that? I’m sure I’ve never actually managed to tell you. I would’ve remembered such a momentous occasion.”

Your head felt suddenly quiet, though the thrum of your heart was sure to replace that silence with its own deafening beat.

You looked away, combing your fingers through your hair. “We’ve got the same morning class for our major,” you said, “and, uh, yesterday evening, when Heather went off with Roger, Brian and I had a drink together.”

Freddie gasped so vehemently that your eyes flashed back to him to be sure that he wasn’t suffering a fit or something.

“In that case, I’m sure he adores you already.”

“Freddie!”

“Think about it, Y/N! You’re both besotted by an absolutely absurd science that makes no fucking sense, and you’re friends with me and Roger and Deac already, so you must’ve gotten along like wildfire and a dry forestscape!”

“Freddie, that’s a horrible analogy.”

“That may be so, darling, but from the light in your eyes, you know what I mean.”

A strange blush engulfed your cheeks and you touched your fingers to your face, willing the flush to disappear. It didn’t.

“No idea what you’re on about,” you said.

“There’s still time.”

“Still time for what?”

Freddie threw his hands into the air. “For things to happen.”

“Nothing did and nothing will,” you countered, a little sternly.

“You’ll be lying to me before the month is through. I’ll find you more time with him, if that’s what you need.”

You ignored Freddie’s suggestive comments. “Time waits for no one,” you remarked instead.

“Now that’s a good line, isn’t it? Do you use it often, or would you mind terribly if I made something of it?” Freddie inquired.

“Pretty sure it’s a rather common expression, but I’m sure you’ll make something wonderful of it,” you said fondly, knowing his poetic habits.

Freddie winked at you. “I’ll certainly do my best. Now, I think we’ve got all the coins, so I say we get off of this filthy floor that the dust bunnies appear to have taken over, or what’s your view on the matter?”

“Time to depart the good Realm of Floor,” you agreed, stretching your creaking legs and giving Freddie a hand up.

“So you’re coming tonight, yes?” Freddie brushed dust and lint from his velvet trousers.

“Of course,” you said. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You’ve missed all the other times, though,”

“I know, Fred,” you exhaled softly. “But I—”

Freddie’s hand covered your shoulder. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, darling. We’re friends, remember?” he smiled comfortingly.

“And friends will be friends,” you responded, as you and the others had taken to saying, originally as a gag, but now as a sort of mantra to keep you going through the harder days.

Freddie smiled again. “Are you busy, or do you fancy going for lunch?”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Where were you thinking?”

“Just the pub. You know how much I enjoy their fish ‘n’ chips.” He meant Kensington Pub.

“Oh yes,” you recalled it very well. “I know.”

“Excellent! Well, I’ll just tidy up quickly and close, and we can be on our way.” You nodded, helping him to rearrange a few out-of-place things before he waved you off. “You don’t work here, dearie. We can talk about dear ol’ Brian while you wait for me, if you like.”

“Clearly, you’re the one who’s obsessed with him.”

“I won’t dispute that. He’s rather nice when he’s not attempting to control every little note of our music.”

“Which is... often?” you said.

Freddie nodded with ardour. “He’s got taste, mind you, but sometimes that taste just gets overbearing, if you know what I mean,” his tone was cheeky.

You folded your arms and leaned against the wall. “No, Freddie, I’ve entirely no clue what you mean.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

After lunch, the two of you took the tube from Kensington Station to Freddie’s flat.

Freddie opened the door to several different cats meowing at the return of their human, and he greeted each one by name, rubbing fluffy backs and scratching behind waiting ears as he passed.

The cats had encountered you many times before, and though many had at first been apprehensive at the presence of an outsider, they now greeted you as one of their own.

“I thought maybe you’d like to borrow a couple of our records to listen to before the concert tonight,” Freddie said, tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter and making his way over to where his record player and vinyl collection resided. He gestured to the crates and stacks of records, encouraging you to take a look while he retrieved Queen’s own works.

Despite the fact that your household contained a total of eleven people, Freddie’s music collection was far more impressive than that of your residence. Jimi Hendrix, Elvis, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and Aretha Franklin seemed to dominate the collection, but there was a heavy presence of classical and operatic compositions too, from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet to Chopin.

“You have so many records,” you said, wishing there was more room in your monthly budget to spend on records, music that you could replay as much as you wanted, rather than waiting for— hoping for— the radio to cycle through your favourites.

“I’ve spent many years building up my collection,” Freddie told you, as though he knew what you were thinking and wished to remind you that such collections were not accumulated overnight; there was still all the time in the world for you to develop your own reserve of records.

“Ah, here we are!” he slid three volumes from a shelf, smiling fondly at the covers. “We’re not The Beatles, but I daresay we’re quite fantastic all the same.” He handed you the records, and you took them with care.

The first was mauve in colour scheme and depicted a person hoisting a sheared microphone stand into the air, illuminated by a singular dramatic spotlight. The second was a highly-contrasted rendering of all four members of Queen in (once more) spectacular lighting, and diamond formation. The third and final was all of them again, lying in a strange circular heap, eyes intense and skin shining with what was likely supposed to be sweat.

Your eyes strayed to Brian on the cover of the third album, the neck of his shirt pulled open, his lips parted and his eyes dazed. The image was suggestive, and Brian was attractive.

Blinking stray thoughts away, you tucked the last album behind the others and cleared your throat as subtly as you could manage. But Freddie had not thought you subtle; he grinned at you astutely.

“Rock and roll, then?” you said, though you already knew the answer. The point was, you were trying to change the subject.

“Rock ‘n’ roll,” Freddie emphasised. “We’ll have you educated in no time, don’t you worry. Homework is listening to those records. Come back again soon and I’ll swap you some Led Zeppelin and Aretha Franklin.”

“Varying taste,” you commented, desperately trying to coerce your mind from its previous focus.

“We’ve got to expand yours,” Freddie said. “Now go home and listen! We can’t have you standing mute and still in the crowd tonight! I plan on making sure you get up front, but I need energy from you for that to be justified, Y/N.”

“Okay, Mercury,” you smirked. “Such high standards, so demanding.”

Freddie sighed, “Got to be, darling. How else would I augment the quality of my music?”

“I’m definitely out of my depth here, Fred.”

He patted your shoulder. “Get out and go home and listen,” he said.

You made a face and Freddie stuck out his tongue at you. “See you later, dearie. Tell Brendan Clements when you arrive and he’ll get you past the crowds.”

“Fab. Later, Freddie.” You gave him a wave as you departed and he blew you a kiss.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You supposed there was one good thing about Heather and Roger’s newfound relations. Well, maybe two.

The first was that you knew Roger and he knew you, and he knew that you would dye his hair permanently peroxide green if he ever hurt Heather intentionally.

The second was that, after this morning, Heather and Roger had headed off to Roger’s place for a few days, meaning that you were free to dance around your room to whatever music you wished without suffering shyness and embarrassment about your moves when you were inevitably discovered. Your other housemates worked most days, and conveniently, your shifts at the local cafe did not coincide with the absences of your household; you would now have the house to yourself quite a bit.

Having abandoned your boots by your wardrobe, you picked up the first record, simply titled Queen.

“Memorable already,” you murmured, feeling oddly exhilarated.

The record was on the deck by your bed within moments, and you flopped down atop your covers to enjoy the music in one of the purest ways you knew how— by lying back on your bed and spreading your arms and letting the melodies carry you away.

The energy kicked in immediately, and to the vivacity of the music you would have sold your soul.

Freddie’s voice was unrelentingly powerful, and unmatchable in beauty. You caught hints of Roger and Brian singing between the thrum of Deacy’s bass lines, their own instruments, and Freddie’s lead vocals, and the effect of the four of them together was unforgettable, astronomical, meant to make history.

Their talent as musicians was riveting if appreciated on its own, but Queen were artists too. How they could have thought up the stories they told, both through lyrics and without any words at all, you did not know.

Record after record, their voices rose together like waves, rushing over you and tossing you in their midst. You felt you were made of stardust, not only in the sense that everything of the past was still atomically part of everything present, but also in the metaphorical way; you felt light and heavenly, like you were floating above the ground, dancing on clouds.

Most of Queen’s songs, to your delight, made you want to dance— the best music made one want to dance. The songs that didn’t make you want to dance made you feel other emotions entirely— they moved you to tears.

By the time ‘In the Lap of the Gods… Revisited’ had signalled the end of Sheer Heart Attack, you had curled up on your side, gazing unblinkingly at the slowing vinyl. It wouldn’t have been too far off to say that listening to Queen's music felt like a transcendental experience.

When the needle passed the final break in the record’s surface and met the space between the break and the record’s central label, you leapt up. Immediately, you swapped the last record for the first, so as to begin the cycle of listening again. You wanted to, needed to, hear it all again.

How lucky you felt, to be going to the concert of such artists the very same night, and how serendipitous it felt to not only know, but to be friends with these artists.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

You had dabbed your eyelids with silver and outlined them in black, the way Freddie had taught you to, though you had never worn your makeup so until now. Your dress was a cotton-tulle mix, black and bell-sleeved, and spotted with flecks of silver like little stars; the effect was somewhere between casual and glam. A good balance, if you should be so bold as to say. Platform sandals completed the regalia, which you felt was a fitting way to describe the outfit which one wore to the concert of a band named Queen.

Between your third and fourth cycles of the three Queen albums, Heather had rung the telephone in the hallway across from your room.

“Hello, gorgeous!”

“Hiya, Heather,” you greeted her cheerily.

“I’ve been out all day, so I’m sorry if you’ve tried to get hold of me.”

“I’ve been out for a good many hours as well. Hope you didn’t miss me too terribly,” you sniggered.

“Pish posh. Not in the slightest. Been making out with Rog—”

“Stop right there, Heather.”

She made kissing sounds on the other end of the line.

“Remind me why you’re calling again?” you said, half-jokingly, half-seriously. Half-seriously because it was getting dreadfully close to eight o’clock, to Queen playing at the Union Bar. “And where are you, anyway?

“Calling to tell you Roger and his band are playing at the Union tonight, and to ask if you’re coming. I’m currently at said drummer’s place getting ready to tag along for said concert.”

“‘Course I’m coming,” you said. “Finest new musicians I’ve heard in years.”

Heather snorted. “You sound like my grandfather— top of the morning to you— finest musicians!” she laughed.

“Just because you haven’t actually heard their music yet,” you reprimanded her.

“About to. So this Freddie told you about the concert, like Roger said he would.”

“Yeah, our friend Freddie.”

“Oh. Oh god, Y/N, I’m fucking stupid. It’s the same guys as you usually talk about. I forget that. It’s like my mind thinks they’re part of some alternate reality, or something.”

“Please tell me you’re not on LSD.”

“No! I promised you I wouldn’t do anything silly for a month. You said LSD counted as silly, so despite being surrounded by all sorts of rockstars, I’m currently stone cold sober in every sense of the word.”

“Unfortunately, it appears you’re still under the effects of Roger Meddows Taylor,” you laughed.

“Shush, Y/N. He’ll think I’m some wacko already in love with him on day one.”

“You are a little bit, though, aren’t you?”

You could almost see her roll her eyes, see yourself respond with a knowing smile toward the insight that she was forever downplaying her emotions to seem less of a romantic than she was. But she was a romantic. Very much so. And she got her heart broken far too often for someone who loved as much and as wholly, as unconditionally, as she did.

“See you in a bit, mwah,” Heather kissed the phone and you cursed her loudness. She laughed at your string of obscenities and put down the phone.

With a final look in the mirror, hoping that your fashion choices had not been too bold, you swept out the door and into the night.

‧⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧

A/N: hello beautiful! thanks for reading this. just send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

taglist: @melting-obelisks  @stardust-killer-queen  @hgmercury39​ @topsecretdeacon

Masterpost / Part 1 / Part 3

[tabloidtoc]

Globe, December 7

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Hillary Clinton health crisis 

Page 2: Up Front & Personal -- Larsa Pippen in a bikini in Fort Lauderdale, Olivia Culpo wrestles with recycling outside her L.A. office, Shia LaBeouf ditches his face covering for a phone call in an L.A. market 

Page 3: Pete Wentz plays tennis, Bachelorette Kaitlyn Bristowe outside the Dancing with the Stars studio, Sean Penn hits the beach in Hawaii 

Page 4: Barbara Walters was sharp as a tack when she grilled the world’s biggest leaders but ravaging dementia has now tragically turned the 91-year-old into a prisoner in her own bed 

Page 5: Pistol-packing Elvis Presley was so gaga over guns that he’d even take a firearm to bed with him 

* Ringo Starr’s childhood bout with appendicitis at age six caused him to fall into a coma and spend a year in the hospital to recover then five years later he contracted tuberculosis and spent two years in a sanitarium where he discovered drums as part of the hospital band 

Page 6: If it’s true that Gentleman Prefer Blondes Marilyn Monroe was the perfect star for the flick because she dyed her carpet platinum to match the drapes -- beauty guru Kenneth Battelle suggested Marilyn change the color of her pubic hair after a jerk spilled champagne over her sheer dress at a party showing everything because she didn’t wear skivvies so the guru ran to the hotel drugstore and got some dye and told Marilyn to go in the bathroom and bleach 

Page 7: Celine Dion has turned into a frightening bag of bones leaving friends worried she’s headed for a catastrophic health crisis -- now down to a gaunt 96 pounds the star is driving herself to the brink of collapse with a diet and exercise plan to prepare for the relaunch of her hit world tour and she starves herself in her drive for perfection and to maintain the stick-thin look that helped turn her into a fashion icon

* Julianne Hough confesses feeling she didn’t deserve the A-list life she enjoyed while dating Ryan Seacrest where she was on private planes and yachts and living in a very well-off house and her life was pretty different from where she grew up -- she left Ryan in 2013 after three years because she wanted to create that for herself because she felt like she didn’t deserve it 

Page 8: Duchess of York Sarah Ferguson is searching for the Fountain of Youth by working out with Pierce Brosnan’s trainer -- the ex-wife of disgraced Prince Andrew is following a grueling exercise regimen in hopes of joining people who are said to be biologically younger than their true age 

Page 9: Disgraced Prince Andrew has been kicked from the royal family and now Prince Charles plans to boot his sister Princess Anne from his inner circle once he becomes king -- while the princess has carried her share of official engagements Charles plans to shrink the monarchy after his mother Queen Elizabeth passes and the phrase slimmed-down royal family constantly keeps coming up and the royal family will evolve with Charles coming to the throne -- Anne will be on the chopping block mostly because of ambitious Duchess Camilla who is Charles’ wife and who has carried out a ruthless dirty plan to be queen for decades and she wants no one else taking the limelight and that includes Charles’ sister

* Prince Harry and wife Meghan Markle dissed his dad Prince Charles with a surprising public snub as the couple failed to publicly wish Charles a happy birthday when he turned 72 -- Queen Elizabeth and Prince William and Duchess Kate all sent birthday wishes to the future king on social media but Harry and Meghan took a pass even though Harry popped up on the British TV show Strictly Come Dancing that night to wish a pal good luck

Page 10: A nuclear-sized catfight has exploded in North Korea where dictator Kim Jong-un’s baby sister and his pop star lover are battling to claw their way to be top gal -- while sister Kim Yo-jong seemed to be running the nation after Kim vanished and was rumored dead he popped back up with old galpal Hyon Song-wol on his arm and his current wife Ri Sol-ju nowhere to be seen 

Page 12: Celebrity Buzz -- Mario Lopez wearing a clear mask (picture), Lauren Simon of The Real Housewives of Cheshire in the U.K. claims to have had sex with an actual ghost, Kaley Cuoco has a theory about shooting those sexy big bangs with ex-boyfriend Johnny Galecki that the pair’s sneaky sitcom boss got a kick putting the real-life former lovers under the covers, Reese Witherspoon lost her beloved dog Pepper to cancer and returned to her ole Southern roots when picking a name for her brand-new puppy: Minnie Pearl, plagued by seemingly endless allegations of being mean and ignoring a toxic workplace Ellen DeGeneres is now plugging a Be Kind subscription box valued at $270

Page 13: Kristen Taekman tops of her gas tank in L.A. (picture), Jeff Goldblum feeding a parking meter in L.A. (picture), Hilary Duff gets primped and primed on the NYC set of Younger (picture) 

Page 14: Reclusive ailing widow Yoko Ono finally loosened the reins and is handing over her $800 million empire to Sean Lennon her only child with Beatles legend John Lennon but John’s eldest son Julian Lennon was left out of the hitmaker’s will but Julian managed to eke out a $25 million settlement okayed by Yoko after he dragged his famous dad’s estate to court, Kelsea Ballerini snapped at a nosy fan for rudely asking if her rounded tummy was a blossoming baby bump

* Fashion Verdict -- Lara Spencer 9/10, Laura Veltz 2/10, Lauren Akins 3/10, Lauren Alaina 4/10 

Page 16: Michael Jackson’s baby mama Debbie Rowe reveals getting pregnant was no thrill because she was artificially impregnated -- Debbie met ex-husband Michael when she was working for his dermatologist and she insists the couple never had sex and a sperm donor fathered the pop star’s two kids she carried in her womb -- son Prince Jackson is rumored to have been fathered by Debbie’s doctor boss Arnold Klein -- British actor Mark Lester claims her could be Paris Jackson’s father -- Debbie is unsure of the paternity of Michael’s youngest son Blanket who now goes by Bigi Jackson

Page 17: Fans gaga for Dr. McDreamy on Grey’s Anatomy got a super thrill on the season 17 premiere when Patrick Dempsey returned to the hit hospital drama after departing the show five years ago -- Dempsey whose character Dr. Derek Shepherd died in a car crash came back in a dream sequence reuniting with star Ellen Pompeo’s Dr. Meredith Grey on a beach -- Dempsey split from the show to spend more time with his family and pursue his auto racing hobby but he’ll return to the show several more times 

Page 19: 10 Things You Don’t Know About Emma Corrin

* Reba McEntire reveals she turned down The Voice gig that went to Blake Shelton and now she regrets it big-time 

* Nip/tuck junkie Dolly Parton says she plans to keep freshening her face by going under the knife and crows she’s gonna look like a cartoon and she’ll look as young as her plastic surgeons will allow her 

Page 20: True Crime 

Page 21: Former soap stud Cody Longo was socked with a domestic abuse charge following a jealous booze-fueled attack on his dancer wife Stephanie Clark -- Cody played Nicholas Alamain on Days of Our Lives from 2011-2012 

Page 23: Meredith Baxter felt booby-trapped by her enormous breasts and confesses she welcomed breast-reduction surgery after getting cancer -- the Family Ties star reveals her former 42-inch bust was the plague of her life

* Weatherman Al Roker has a secret weapon in his stormy battle to recover from prostate cancer surgery which is the love and support of his wife Deborah Roberts who is keeping him happy and positive doting on him day and night plus they talk about everything and make medical decisions together so there’s no fear or anxiety entering their world 

* Jennifer Lopez kicked booty when a federal judge dismissed a $40 million lawsuit brought by a former stripper who claims she inspired the hit movie Hustlers -- Samantha Barbash claims she’s the real-life model for J.Lo’s pole-dancing swindler Ramona Vega and insisted the movie ruined her rep by implying she did drugs around her kids but the judge tossed the case because Barbash’s name or portrait or picture or voice wasn’t used in the film 

Page 24: Cover Story -- Hillary Clinton has tragically packed on nearly 100 pounds since she vanished from the spotlight four years ago and is struggling to breathe and walk and now a medical expert is warning the 73-year-old is facing a health crisis as she tips the scales at 247 pounds -- Hillary has a history of broken bones and shocking collapses 

Page 26: Health Report

Page 30: Country girl Carly Pearce’s divorce from Michael Ray has gone from bad to ugly and he’s now parading his romance with Travis Tritt’s daughter Tyler Reese Tritt -- Carly was all for taking the high road but now she’s taken off the gloves -- they’re bad-mouthing each other far and wide and Carly’s tossed everything that reminds her of Michael 

* Southern Charm belle Madison LeCroy has been flashing a pic of her newest charms which is a set of bigger boobs 

Page 36: Diva Mariah Carey’s demanding ways are driving her boyfriend Bryan Tanaka bonkers and the couple of four years may be headed for Splitsville unless she changes her ways -- Mariah treats Bryan like an assistant instead of a lover and it’s giving him fits and he’s been so patient with Mariah and he loves her but she’s wearing him out with her incessant orders like she has him drawing up her schedule for online greets plus she’s ordering him to do all her holiday shopping for friends and be in charge of everything from decorations to food prep 

* Emma Roberts confesses being pregnant makes her weepy and she’s hit the point where like halfway up the stairs she has to sit down sometimes and maybe tears roll down a couple times a week but despite that Emma says she feels grateful and lucky to be expecting her first child

Page 38: Real Life 

Page 40: Phil Collins’ embarrassing court battle with third ex Orianne Cevey is casting a pall over his daughter Lily Collins’ wedding plans -- Lily is desperate to tie the knot with Charlie MacDowell but the dirty charges flying back may force her to put the happy day on hold and it’s hard for Lily to concentrate on making wedding plans when her father is caught in an ugly public fight -- Orianne is battling over Phil’s $38 million Miami mansion where they lived after reuniting in 2018 

Page 44: Straight Talk -- NXIVM cult is warning to us all 

Page 45: Treasure hunters have launched a frantic search for a $150 million stash of gangster gold hidden by mobster Dutch Schultz in Upstate New York after two sleuths recently discovered coins they believe are linked to the stash -- following a long list of cryptic clues Canadian fortune seekers Steve Zazulyk and Ryan Fazekas uncovered gold coins dated 1903 a few miles from the Prohibition Era beer baron’s hangout in the Catskills town of Phoenicia and their find triggered a race against other prosecutors seeking a two-by-three-foot steel box filled with diamonds and gold coins and $1000 bills and $7 billion in World War I Liberty Bonds and the hoard has an estimated value of $150 million today 

[capricornus-rex]

Playing Pretend (7)

Requested by: @calkesttiss​ | Prompt:

Hi! I just watched isi & ossi (rich girl and poor boxer boy AH) on netflix and now i cant stop thinking about cal and fake dating. Do with that what you will

Hey guys! I hope you’re enjoying the fic as it goes along :) I think I got too carried away in making the story outline because this was such an interesting reference (Isi & Ossi), so I guess I had fun writing it that’s why I ended up making so many parts. I hope you don’t mind that! Again, I hope you enjoy the story and it would be great if you support me in my future content (fics), it means a great deal to me 💓

Cal Kestis x Reader

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Next: Part 8 | Masterlist

7 of ?

When you got home, you were greeted by your parents with faces blanker than a canvas. They were now fully aware that you are definitely spending time with this boy. Your mother is usually the one who had the most to say, whereas your father had nothing much to say—in fact, your parents were perfect opposites of one another.

“Oh, so now you suddenly care that I come home late, that I’m gone for hours because I’m spending most of it with my boyfriend, and that I actually exist?”

“What’s it going to take for you to stop this behavior?”

“Postpone the engagement with Logan that you made without my consent and 40,000 credits,”

“What in the world are you going to do with forty-thousand, [y/n]?!”

“What? A girl’s gotta shop,” you say condescendingly. “Plus, when did five digits ever worry you, Mom? You’re one of the filthy rich, remember? Forty-thousand is barely a dent on your joint account!”

“[y/n], please can we sort this out?” your poor father sighed.

As much as you want to give in for your father, if you give in now then you have broken your deal with Cal by default—you couldn’t allow it, your parents even seem to have overlooked your demand of postponing the engagement.

When your parents were sure that you were out of earshot, Sorhan reassured his wife that he will send out of the bodyguards to keep an eye on her—even though he was against the whole idea. Little did they know that you were hiding behind the walls near the living room, though it didn’t surprise you that they will be sending out spies for you—you knew exactly how to evade them. Even if they did see you, there’s nothing much they can do.

You repeated the exact same words of your non-negotiables to your parents, your words were almost immediately eaten by the air as soon as you released them. You shake your head in utter disappointment and retreated to your bedroom. By rote, you check your holotable for transmissions and messages that you received while you were out—majority of them came from Tazha begging you to call her back once you’re back, which you did.

“Ugh, finally!”

“Really? That’s how you’re gonna start the call, Taz?”

“You’ve been gone all day!”

“Yeah, I was with Cal the whole time,”

“You mean your fake boyfriend?”

You paused from removing your jacket just so you could shoot back a look at Tazha. You picked up something from the way she put that out, though you shouldn’t have a reason to get that word under your skin. You forget that it was the reality of this whole ordeal.

“Got something to tell me, Tazha?”

“Well, duh, tell me how your date go?”

“It wasn’t a date, we just met up and talked,”

Tazha rolled her eyes and sighed, “Gee, how romantic.”

While folding your jacket, a smile had curled up in your lips when the memory of you and Cal back at the abandoned park suddenly flashed in your mind. Not even the slightest smile escape Tazha’s eagle eyes—even through a holotable transmission.

“Hup! I saw that, [y/n],” she perked up, pointing her finger at you. “Come on, you’ve got something to tell!”

“Does it really interest you or nah?”

Tazha debated that she definitely wants to hear about your day and so you narrated everything to her from the very beginning until the end when you two were in the park all day. It wasn’t the moments you retold that interested her, it was more of the way you told it—even your face was telling a lot more of the story than your lips.

“He listens to The HU too!”

“So what are you guys gonna do tomorrow or next?”

You shrug your shoulders but you didn’t worry about it too much.

Wow, this is so unlike her. Tazha thought to herself when she saw you squeal like a toddler, she’s never seen you this excited for anything. Being your best friend since forever, she knows that you were the planner between the two of you—and to see you not panicking over the fact that you’ve got no specific plans for the next time you and Cal meet up kind of surprised her.

The dates continued on. You brought Cal to the farmer’s market where they sell delicacies and drinks found only in Alderaan, one of your favorites being the Starblossom fruit and the beverage Mocoa.

“Be sure to remove the seeds, they’re really bitter when you bite them,”

“I’ve never had these ever, these are really good!”

“Yeah?”

“I think this is gonna top Jogan berries in my list of favorite fruits,”

There are still so many things you want Cal to see and try. The pubs and its drinks, the farmer’s market and what it has to offer, and even the mosh pits. He was surprised that even in a classy planet as Alderaan, there are such things.

“Well, the rich people aren’t the only ones who wanna have fun!” you exclaim.

You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you and Cal are getting along well despite this fake relationship—sometimes he forgets that he was even in one in the first place. He continued to spend time with you, meeting up with you whenever you asked. In the first few days, he did it out of obligation and for the sake of following the agreement; but the more often you two hang out, he slowly warmed up to you some more. He allowed you to drag him around the city and bring him to places that you usually frequent.

Each time you’re with him, the more you wanted the moments to last longer. You didn’t want to come back to your house.

You and Cal get into a mosh pit, the show was about to start, and the crowd was beginning to go wild. Most of the partygoers were young people—just about your age—and they were clad in a complete contrast to the luxurious clothes that the elites wear.

Cal wrapped his arm around your shoulder which startled you, when you tilted your head up to look at him, he had that casual look in his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Figured we ought to look the part,” he smirked.

You scoffed as you smiled back, seeing that there was no harm in it, the two of you approach the bouncer at the gate.

“Hey-hey, look who it is! It’s [y/n]! Where the heck have you been?!”

“Hey Fritz, heard that the band’s here!”

“For sure!” the bouncer takes notice of Cal, he points at him but kept his eyes on you. “Your boy?”

“Yeah, this is Cal.”

“Hoo-whee, and I thought the princess could never score a keeper!”

You brush off the bouncer’s teasing and he finally lets you and Cal in after you hand him a handful of credits. From afar, you found the bodyguard that your father had sent blend in with the crowd but he sticks out like a sore thumb, you ignored him and let him see you enter the mosh pit; he later contacts your father shortly after you and Cal entered.

“You’re a regular here?” Cal closed in on your ear as the bass was blaring through the speakers.

“Yeah well, I come around here more often than the Tipsy Taun-taun! I’m sure you’ll like it here, just wait and see!” you confidently assured him.

Cal stayed close to you while the two of you stayed at the bar, watching the crowd and whoever performer is on stage, and sipping Alderaanian brandy. After the performer that was already on stage when you got there, the emcee walks in and says his spiel for the next one. He vaguely introduces the band until he declares the name.

“The one you’ve all been waiting for: The HU!!!”

The crowd went wild, they roared and whistled, some of them even spun their bandannas in the air as the band members enter. As for Cal, his lips parted open starting from the moment the emcee uttered the band’s name. He looked to you, as if looking for some confirmation, and you answered his expression with a smile combined with a single twitch of your eyebrows.

The song started with a few strokes of their fiddles and then the beat of the drums. The crowd was bobbing and rocking to the rhythm of all the instruments and the unconventional yet impressive vocals—to you, the scene almost looked like a cult meeting.

“You knew they’d be here, didn’t you?”

You beamed a playful smile, “Told ya you’d like it!”

The HU was reaching its chorus, the instrumental was gradually heightening its intensity, and the crowd chanted along to the lyrics—even covering the background voices in certain verses. Eventually, you and Cal joined along as you knew the song as well as everyone else watching the gig. The songs became wilder. Laughter drowned in the roars of the crowd and the acoustics of the instruments, but neither of you didn’t care, the two of you are simply having fun in the heat of the moment.

The next band comes in. It was a drastic shift of mood compared to the last band as the vocalist belted out mellow tones, but the crowd—including the pair of you—adapted quickly; from bobbing your heads to the impactful beating of the drum, you sway left to right with your hands raised up harmonizing with the smooth strumming of the guitar and the neon lights have softened into warmer tones of purple, blue, and orange.

Cal wrapped his arm around you while swaying with the crowd. Much later, he gently cups your chin and angles your head so you face him. Was it on a whim or by impulse? Is there a difference anyway? It didn’t matter to him. Without warning, he brings himself closer to you until the gap in between is gone.

In the middle of the crowd.

Cal’s lips presses against yours.

Everything suddenly seemed to slow down—the movements of the crowd and the band, the beams of light dancing around the place, and the pace of time.

He presses his lips to yours, now your heart is beating ever faster, he softly suckles your lower lip and he slowly pulls away. The two of you exchanged tender gazes at each other, in the next second you gently pull him close by the straps of his armor and return the kiss.

Your trembling hands perched on his broad shoulders. The intensity was flaring, he allowed himself to get carried away. Everything around you felt like it was spinning. You were caught in the moment.

You didn’t even realize that your father and the bodyguard had tracked you down to the mosh pit, but when Sorhan saw you, he almost thought that the girl he was seeing wasn’t his own daughter: lips stretched to an ear-to-ear smile, eyes squinted into tight slits, and a laughter drowned by the blaring sounds of the music and the roaring crowd.

“Sir?”

“Come on. Leave her,” your father resigned and marched out of the bar, the confused bodyguard followed suit.

When the hype in the mosh pit died down, Cal offered to take you home. You walked the streets hand-in-hand, the rush is still fresh in both of you, and he would steal glimpses of you smiling to yourself—in turn, he would smile too as the two of you walk.

His pace got noticeably slower when you arrive to the manor’s porch, you were reluctant yourself, you didn’t want to get near the front door either. Cal squeezes your hand and step forward to the first step of the porch, he remained standing on one step below. You turn to Cal and the bright glint in his eyes that you saw at the mosh pit had dimmed down.

“Hey,” you cooed, giving his hand clutching yours a gentle shake. “I had the most fun tonight.”

“Me too.”

He manages a smile. Cal slowly closes in on you, your head tilts up as your eyes follow him; he softly brushes the wisps of hair to the back of your ear. He was hesitant about something. Your heart was racing again, he gazes at you intently and tenderly. His eyes trail to your mouth, he gently cups your chin with one hand and inches you closer to him.

His lips met your lips again, but this time, his kiss was much tenderer. You suckle his lips back as your felt his hands crawl and caress your neck. He finally wills himself to pull away from you.

“Good night,” he whispers while the tips of your noses brush against each other.

You smile, “Good night.”

His grip on your hand slowly loosens until the last of yours fingers have slid away from his grasp. Your free hand blindly pawed the door and turned the knob. You push the door open while still looking back at Cal; you step in and the last thing you see as you slowly close it is him smiling back at you—but it was a sad smile, you somehow understand why because the feeling’s mutual.

[alive-drumming]

9 Myths About Drumming

According to Music Australia, drumming has become a part of our everyday lives. Whether you play at home or go to a club, chances are you’ve heard someone say they love drumming. Drummers are sometimes stereotyped as loud, obnoxious, and annoying. In reality, drumming is a complex art form that requires practice, patience, and discipline.

“Drumming has become very popular worldwide. Drumming can be done alone or with other instruments such as guitar, bass, and keyboard. Drumming is a great way to exercise your body and relax simultaneously,” says Flynn Ross, a musical instrument specialist at Guitar Tuners—Australia’s top supplier of musical instruments.

Drumming is a fun and relaxing hobby that anyone can enjoy. There are several myths surrounding drumming, but they only apply to some drummers.

1. The Physicality Is Extreme

Drums are no more physically demanding to practice than other instruments. Still, all musical instruments have a maximum volume that may be easily reached before you break it and start wasting your time or showing off.

2. The Key Is To Hit Things

Drumming revolves around striking objects, but a piano, another percussion instrument, does the same. It’s not the same as hitting something as hard as you can when you strike it to get the best sound out of it.

3. Drummers Perspire Heavily

A drummer's working room.

They used to since the club had low ceilings and they were flanked by infernal floor lighting or a row of incandescent lamps dangling above them. The drummer was inches away from getting a tan, thanks to being on a riser. LED drummers no longer sweat more than anyone else on stage due to the environment’s low heat. Keep up with technological advancements while remaining alert in the back.

4. Drumming Can’t Be Practised At Home Without Making Others Mute

False. Practising surfaces include books, pads, and electronic drums. Also, your sister’s violin or brother’s trumpet, which requires natural playing to generate a good tone, can quickly drown out the appealing pattering of sticks on a practice pad or electronic set.

5. Drums Cannot Be Played On Your Own

That is no longer the case in the virtual world. Some YouTube drummers who “stay at home” have a business coaching other drummers online.

6. Drums Aren’t Musical Instruments

It is true that drums “have no pitch”. This is typically cited as support for this claim. On the other hand, it has an undefined or approximate pitch. The ear can tell which drum has a higher pitch than the other.

7. It Will Only Take Additional Time Away From The Books To Study The Drums In High School Or College

Maybe, but those hours will probably improve academic performance if they aren’t wasted. There is a growing body of research on the many advantages of learning any musical instrument, including patience, discipline, confidence, attention to detail, and coordination.

8. Drummers Are Not Musicians

It’s a prevalent misconception that drummers don’t need to understand how music functions. This is false; many drummers have at least rudimentary proficiency on a second instrument.

9. You’ll Experience Hearing Loss

Modern in-ear monitoring provides a level of control that allows you to have whatever sound you choose in your ears at any volume. If you turn the monitors up to their maximum volume, the drums sound fantastic, but there is a risk of ear injury. You should give it some thought.

Break The Myths And Enjoy Drumming With Alive Drumming

There are myths about everything; no one should hinder someone from doing what they love. With professional help, breaking these myths and enjoying drumming will be possible.

Alive Drumming showcases non-classical musicianship, with resources on contemporary rhythms, arrangement rhythm recordings, and provides the Song Rhythm Tracks service and mobile apps.

Contact us at marketing@alive-drumming.org for more information.