#I need to hire a new brain dj | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years ago

Text

The first sign; Jack Kline x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys well it’s been awhile since I updated my Rock angel series and for good reason too because here is where things get DARK!! As you’ll see in the taglist below I’ve started putting trigger warnings cause in this part it involves stalking, dog attacks (some people fear dogs so I wanted to be respectful). Now the next chapter after this will REALLY be insane so I hope you all buckle up cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.

Also face cast for Steve I put the gif for Joe Keery, and for the Rock Angel’s manager just look up actor James Woods (aka Hades from Hercules).

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queendeakyy

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@wormzteef

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@onebigfangirlworld

@dj-lowkey

@naturalswifty89

@isabella-bby

@bohemiansweede

@5sos-wdw

@labessieisallama

_______________________________________________________

Everyone thinks it won’t happen to me, that I’m immune to such evil. No one thinks they’ll ever experience such a thing but you’d sadly be lying, or in complete denial. At least everyone goes through this type of evil at one point in their lives. And for celebrities, it’s a living hell because the world will only watch with a bucket of popcorn and enjoy your pain and suffering.

The only ones you can depend on are your family. And don’t ever say they wouldn’t understand because they will. Had I not told my family about what was going on—you know what fuck it they were forced into this. But even so if they didn’t know what was going on, this part of my story would’ve ended very, very, very, very differently.

*2 months after the tribute concert*

I hadn’t slept in a week. I was exhausted with trying to put the final touches on my tribute album for Freddie. My manager James Woods was really putting the heat on me with trying to get this album up so that I could ring in the money for him. Wait first let me backup just a tick and explain some things first.

When I first transferred out of EMI and went to Hollywood Records, my manager at the time was a man known as Desmond Roberts. He was a generous, kind man who saw my potential as a female musician and like Miami, pushed me to do my best. He was a family man as well; at the time he had become a grandfather for the first time at the age of 52.

But earlier this year he had to retire because it was by law of the company that all representatives must retire by the age of 65. With that my new manager was his young and vibrant VP James Woods. James is—well let’s just say he’d make a better car salesman than a recording manager.

A man born and bred in the heart of Boston, he’s the kind of man who sees his own vision and wants other people to execute it for him. Hell he’s even been pressuring me to go more into Pop music as that is the rising fame of music now. Artists like Madonna, Gwen Stefani, rising star Christina Aguilera, and Mariah Carey. He wanted to push me to going in their direction.

But I reminded him of my original contract that I signed on between Miami and Desmond. That my image was to never, ever, ever under any circumstances be changed. Yes he even tried to make me change my stage name into the Spicy Angel (yeah that didn’t sit right with me).

To put it frank—my current manager is a stubborn, two-headed, forked-tongue, snake in the grass. Sleezy, and can make some vulgar comments either towards me or some of my roadies.

But the one step he took too far was when he hired his own nephew to be my PA (he claimed that he was trying to help out his sister). At first I was against it but with that pleading and begging persuasionistic tone of his, for some reason I ended up agreeing and his nephew Steve Harrison became my new PA.

Steve Harrison. He was the same age as Jack, had deep brown eyes, a fairly handsome face, but his crown jewel was his hair. He always bragged and fussed about his hair. Brown and fluffed up beyond anything, like cotton candy. Silky and moosed to no end. Wow and I thought I was bad when it came to doing my air before a show.

Now Steve definitely knew his way around the recording station. Made sure that every song I recorded sounded to perfection, always sought to my every need, ensured that for upcoming tours I was given updates on the schedule, and he even took my calls and wrote them down for me. He kept his work profession throughout all of 1991.

But when the summer of 92 came around, things began to change.

As I said before, I hadn’t slept a week. The Freddie Mercury tribute album was taking longer than the company expected. That’s because I wanted to make sure every song, especially the cover ones that Fred had given me legal rights to do, were perfect.

I was at the controls listening to my version of Somebody to love when the door opened behind me.

“I would’ve thought her royal highness would’ve gone home?”

“Perfectionists never stop. I learned that from the best group of men I know.” He took the empty seat next to me and presented me with a cup of coffee. I softly thanked him and went back to listening to my song.

When the last vibrato rang out on the word ‘love’, Steve sighed and said.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s shit!” I complained. “God why did he give me such responsibility to do these songs I-I-I—not I’m even worthy to do his songs. At least not without him.”

“This version is the best. Better than I’ve ever heard it been played. In fact……I think you’re better than Freddie Mercury.” I snapped my head towards him.

“Freddie Mercury was and will always be a genius. His voice is unlike any other performer’s and his style of writing will forever go down in music history as the best damn thing the world will ever know! So don’t you ever say that someone is better than him. Especially me!” I shot up from the chair, it rolled back and slammed against the wall and I turned towards the wall with my arms crossed over my chest, and breathed heavily trying to calm down.

“I—I’m sorry. I was just speaking my opinion. I—didn’t know how much you cared about him. He…..must’ve really meant something to you.” He spoke softly.

“More than you’ll ever know.” I muttered as I fingered the bracelet Fred gave me as a birthday gift. “And I’m sorry Steve I—I didn’t mean to shout. I’m……just exhausted and stressed. With your uncle—”

“Hey, I get it. Uncle James can be a real pain in the ass at times.” I turned towards him and saw him standing a few inches away from me. “Hell one time when I was 16, I had asked him if I could take his mustang for a test drive and he told me ‘kid you so much as even leave a fingerprint you’re as dead as a doornail and I don’t care if you’re my nephew’.” The two of us laughed at his uncle’s impersonation.

“And I thought I was the only one with a douche uncle.”

“Oh trust me, you think he’s demanding at work? You should see him round the holidays.” I softly laughed. That’s when I felt his finger slightly graze against the back of my palm.

My heart stopped and that’s when I noticed that he had gotten a little closer to me. Closer and closer his face came but I quickly got out of his way and said.

“Excuse me, I gotta sign off this track and ship it off by tomorrow morning.” I grabbed Steve’s chair and went straight back into my work. As I was fiddling around with the switches and buttons, I could feel that he was standing right there beside me. I tried to ignore him and focus on my work but his lingering presence grew too much.

Like a moth to the flame. Silent but fluttering around too close.

I turned to say something to him, that’s when his lips suddenly crashed with mine. My eyes widened and my body froze for a moment before my brain snapped back into reality.

I pushed him away and slapped him across the face. Standing up and my chest heaving in so many mixed emotions, but the one main emotion going out about me was anger.

“What the fuck Steve!? Why did you do that!? You know I’m happily married and have children!”

“I—I’m sorry I just…..I’ve always been a fan of yours and I just….I’m sorry. Please don’t tell my uncle. You know as well as I do what he’s like. He’ll beat me to a pulp if he finds out. Please Angel I beg of you, don’t tell him.” His eyes going fearful and tears shined at the corner of his eyes.

I wish I could say that I told him that I was going to rat him out, have him fired even but—I didn’t. He’s right I did know what it was like to have an abusive uncle. Now while my uncle never really touched my physical, he did have his temper and would throw things at me just barely missing me (that mostly happened when he was on the bottle).

“Only if you promise me you won’t do shit like that again. And never speak of this to anyone.”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He said as he crossed his heart with his finger. I narrowed my eyes at him and grabbed my purse.

“Take the day off tomorrow. Then come back on Monday to work. Professionally.” I emphasized the last word and he nodded and I walked out without another word.

I wish I could take it all back. That I had fired him right then and there, if I had then what would eventually come, wouldn’t have happened. Or at least not gotten to the scale that it did get to.

*3 weeks after the kiss*

I was on the Late Show with David Letterman doing a television interview about the upcoming album as well as my tour coming later in the year.

“So Rock Angel your upcoming album ‘Fly High Mercury’ is said to be unlike your previous albums is that right? It also was the one that also took you the longest to make correct?”

“Yes it is.”

“Care to explain?”

“Well as you can tell by the title this is a tribute album to Freddie Mercury.” The audience applauded. I nodded and swallowed a lump in my throat. “Some of the songs are what I’ve written but another half of them are Queen songs that Freddie himself gave me legal rights to make a cover to. In fact they were some of my favorites.”

“Now how long did it take you to make this album?” David asked me.

“Well the songs I did, took roughly a couple of months but when—Freddie passed away I took a few months off to grieve and then as you all may have seen I was a part of the tribute concert so in total almost ten months.”

“Wow ten months.” I nodded. “And you said Freddie gave you the rights to some of Queen’s songs to cover?”

“Yes.”

“How did it feel to have that kind of pressure on you?”

“I’ll be honest it was tough. How-how do you compete with someone like Freddie Mercury? His voice and musical talents were unlike anything anyone’s ever seen or will ever see most likely. And when he asked me to do some of Queen’s works, particularly the songs he himself had written, I felt like I was going up against goliath and I was David. But—Fred has his reasons for why he does what he does, and—he must’ve felt like I could help embrace his memory further by introducing a new audience to some of Queen’s work, especially their earliest songs.” The crowd applauded.

“Well said, well said. Freddie will truly be forever missed. When we come back we have Kurt Russel joining us and then after that the Rock Angel will perform one of her hit songs from her recent album Fly High Mercury which is now available in stores. The Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline everybody!” the crowd applauded and David and I shook hands with each other as his theme song played us out on the commercial break.

I went backstage to change out from my black sequin interview dress and into some regular but dressy performance clothes. A black leather jacket, a white blouse, tight jeans, and some high-heeled black boots.

“Oh angel.” I internally groaned. Speak of the devil. James Woods soon came into my dressing room without a single care in the world (he’s lucky I’ve learned to do quick changes otherwise we’d have a problem). “Now darling please remind me again why you’ve declined Donald Trump’s hotel gig? He’s offered plenty of money for your performance especially since it’s his son’s birthday that day.”

“When I went to talk to him he also made me an offer I simply had to refuse.” I shuddered. “He’s a pig and an upright asshole with no respect for anyone but himself and his precious hotel business. God help us if he ever becomes President.”

“Fine. Instead of adding to the profit we would’ve gotten from this, we’ll take it out of your next pay how bout that?” I glared at him.

“You really wanna go toe to toe with me regarding money? Go ahead. Just know I’ve got the best lawyers in all of London on my side and they’ve been good to me for 10 years. So you better pucker your lips and do some serious arse kissing to the judge because they’ve won every. Single. Case I’ve ever had to do. From false stories to paparazzi stalking.” I stared him down even though I only came up to his chest.

Even through those cold, greedy eyes of his, I saw that he was afraid.

“Ahh court cases are a waste of time and a waste of profit. Now go on out there and give them a show baby cakes.”

“Never call me baby cakes.” I trudged out of my dressing room with my red special in hand and headed back towards the stage to sing my song.

After the show ended, I was back in my hotel room in Manhattan. I had just gotten done with my shower and soon coming into the room was Jack with some late night takeout.

“Chinatown special for the Rock Angel.” I smiled and splayed myself across the bed as he came toward me with the food.

“Mmm room service and a cute delivery boy. I am one lucky girl.”

“Well then Mrs. Kline, do I get a special tip for my services?” Jack played along with a grin. I smirked and placed my hand on the back of his head and brought his lips towards mine. His hands soon came to my waist as we separated but I kissed him again. Jack hummed in surprise. “A double tip? Well then, guess I need to be the delivery boy more often.” I giggled and took my food out of the bag.

“But serious babe, thanks for getting the food.”

“Hey no problem, anything for my beautiful rock star. I know that with your schedule firing back up, you don’t have time for a normal meal like we did before.”

“Did you call your mom about the kids?”

“Yep. Kids are safe and healthy. Well Little Jack had a slight fever but he was better within a day thanks to mama’s secret chicken noodle soup. I know that thing saved my life as a kid.”

“Well then she better……” a knock was soon heard at the door. Jack and I looked at each other confused. He stood up from the bed and answered the door. I held my robe tighter around me and soon I heard the door slam shut and Jack soon came in with a bouquet of a dozen roses. “Did you order those?”

“Nope. But I’ve got a feeling who did.” He turned as he glared to the room opposite of our suite.

Well of course I told Jack about the kiss. I know what it’s like to have been cheated on so there was no way in fucking hell I was gonna keep this a secret from Jack. As you can see he has not taken it well, in fact he’s grown very angry and jealous when Steve gets mentioned.

“Let me see the card.” He tossed the bouquet down on the bed. I sent him a glare and went to pick the card out and I opened it up. And low and behold it was from Steve. Even though it didn’t have his name on it, I recognized his handwriting anywhere. He wrote.

Fabulous performance (as always). A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

Your secret admirer and #1 fan

“You should’ve fired him.”

“Oh so you’re saying this is my fault!?” I snapped.

“No that’s not what I’m saying!” Jack snapped back at me. “I just…..” he exhaled deeply trying to release his anger. “I don’t trust him anymore. Not after what he did. In fact ever since he’s kissed you he’s been sending you a lot of stuff. The flowers, your favorite German chocolates, he even gave a teddy bear to our daughter! I’m telling you something about him now is just……” I walked up to him and embraced him.

“I know love, I know. I don’t feel comfortable around him too. But—he is James’ nephew and unfortunately he wants his sister to get off his back with this favor.”

“That shouldn’t matter! If he makes you uncomfortable you should just fire him and not even worry about what that sales talker of a manager tells you.” He is right. It shouldn’t have to go on like this but unfortunately the business world isn’t on my side when it comes to choosing my PA’s, I was thankful enough to keep my touring roadies and not get some rookies or 40 year old perverts who get high or drunk.

“The likes of a woman in a men’s workforce. I wish I could Jack but I can’t. Legally anyways. Look I’m exhausted right now can we please just go to bed?”

“Alright. But we will come back to this. (Y/n) I’m only stressed about this because I don’t want to lose you. What if—”

“Hey!” I put my finger of his lips. “Don’t you dare think like that. I know celebrities are always the first to die when it comes to crazed fans. But I swear to you Jack Kline, I will not be one of those singers to die at the hands of a so called ‘fan’. I’m your lioness.”

“And no one can break you down.” We pressed our forehead together and just stayed like that for a good long moment. I then softly kissed him and went to change out of my robe into my nightdress. Jack stripped down to his boxers and we put our takeout in the mini-fridge by the bed and turned off the lights before cuddling close together.

*September 8th, 1992*

It was Kelly’s first day of 1st grade. Jack and I couldn’t believe that our little girl was on her way to 1st grade. Of course to me it was the first day of primary school but still it was a big day for her. So Jack and I were sure to be there to see her off but sadly both of us had a long day today so we couldn’t go pick her up.

I was busy prepping for my upcoming tour while Jack got backed up with the car dealership. But thankfully Jack’s cousin Jared (who was working a case at the time) volunteered to go pick Kelly up after school. Now this school was at the top with their security, only those who were approved by the Parent or Guardian could pick up the child (which was good with us).

So Jack and I made sure to list the family members down in order so we went from Kelly Kline, Misha Kline, Roger Taylor, Brian May, John Deacon, and Jared and Jensen Walker as the adults to pick Kelly Kline up from school should Jack and I not be available.

It was late in the afternoon, around 3:30ish and I was talking with my tour manager Phillipe about where each performance was gonna take place when the phone suddenly rang. One of the assistants answered it and she said.

“Hollywood Records how may I help you?” there was a pause and suddenly her voice went frantic. “Whoa, whoa, whoa wait a minute slow down. Slow down who are you wanting to talk to?” I turned to her confused. “Okay hold on I’ll get her,” she turned to me and said as she held the phone close to her breast, “Mrs. Kline someone wants to speak to you. Says his name is Jared Walker.” I immediately shot up and took the phone and said frantically.

“Jared what’s happened?”

‘I-I-I-I went to pick Kelly up like I said I would, but when I got there they had said you had already sent approval of someone else to come get her!’

My heart stopped. They say it’s every parent’s worse nightmare come true, but it’s never fully real until it happens to you.

I dropped the phone as Jared’s voice echoed through the speakers calling out my name.

“CALL THE POLICE! CALL JACK! CALL KELLY’S SCHOOL! CALL ANYONE!!” I screamed frantically.

The search for my daughter was—one of the worst things I ever had to go through. Just who in the hell would know where exactly her school was? Not only that but who got my approval to sign off for her release?

I was frantic to the bone. I kept pacing with anxiety as every fiber of my being was buzzing with all kinds of emotions. Jack and Jared tried their best to calm me down but I wasn’t going to be calm till I had my baby in my arms.

After an hour and a half grueling search, the home phone suddenly rang. I went up to the phone and answered it.

“Hello?!” there was silence at the end of it for awhile till finally his voice came up.

‘Lose your little cub?’ my eyes narrowed and now only rage filled my body.

“Where is she Steve?” I sneered.

‘Just meet me by the spot where the first action sequence of Terminator 2 was shot.’ Then the line went dead. I hung up the phone, grabbed my keys and dragged Jared by the arm towards my car and we raced down the highway.

When we arrived at Bull Creek, I told Jared to stay in the car while I handled Steve. I got out of the car and right there at the very track where the first action chase scene of the film took place at.

Just ahead of me was a blue Ferrari leaning against it was Steve Harrison. And through the windows I could see Kelly playing with her favorite doll that she took with her to school, without a care in the world.

“So glad you finally made it Angel. Didn’t think I’d expect to see you to take my advice so quick.”

“Open the door.” I sneered.

“Gee not even a thank you?” he joked.

“I don’t have time for bullocks right now Harrison! Now open your bloody car door and give me back my baby!” he went over and opened the door and once Kelly saw me, her smile on her face grew wider.

“Mummy!” she cheered as she got out and raced towards me. I immediately knelt down and picked her up in my arms.

“Oh my baby girl. Oh thank god you’re safe! Are you okay? Look at me. We were all so worried about you.” I said as I kept kissing all over her face. She groaned and tried to get me to stop.

“I’m fine mum! Mum stop it stop kissing me! Mr. Steve said you changed your mind about uncle Jared coming to pick me up.” I glared over to Steve and said.

“Honey go in mummy’s car and wait there with Uncle Jared.” I kissed her one last time and she did as I asked her to. I walked closer to Steve as he kept talking.

“Lovely reunion. See I knew you’d appreciate what I’d done. After all as your personal—” I sucker punched him hard across the face sending him down to the ground. Blood even dripped down his nose. “Wow. Wow!” he scoffed. “I-I-I-I know that girls could punch but that…..that was—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” I snapped at him.

“You should be grateful. I did you a favor. I picked up your daughter from her first day of school.” He tried to reason with me.

“You had no legal right too! You kidnapped her!”

“Kidnapped?! Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa wait time out!” he stood up and wiped his bloody nose. “Wow head rush. Okay hang on a minute. You were incredibly business with the tour manager so I knew you wouldn’t be able to pick her up. And of course Jack……” he sneered out Jack’s name with anger and jealousy. “He works now right? I mean about damn time too, can’t be the house husband forever right?” My glare deepened, “Anyways, so no one else was there to pick up sweet, little Kelly so I volunteered myself to pick her up. Didn’t want her staying at the school all by herself, now did we?”

“She wasn’t going to be alone we arranged for Jared to pick her up!” at that Steve’s face turned to shock as he said.

“Oh. Well—this is awkward.” Oh he was an incredible actor I’ll give him that.

“What is wrong with you Steve? What were you trying to accomplish here?” that’s when his eyes darkened and grew cold. His voice even changed to a possessive tone as he walked closer to me.

“Jack doesn’t deserve you. A farm boy like that? No you need a real man at your side. Someone who gets the business, someone who is always by your side. I know who you are (Y/n) Kline.”

He tried to grab my chin but I clenched his hand in mine and dug my nails into his skin. My hand shaking with rage as I stared him down.

“Is that what you think? You think by doing all this you actually believe I would leave Jack for you? You’re even more delusional than Jack painted you. Now I see it for myself.” I threw his hand down and backed away from him. “A wise man once said to another slime like yourself, ‘you just see what you want to see’. Next time you even touch or go near any of my kids, I swear to you there won’t be a courthouse that your uncle can bride with what I’ll charge you for.” I turned and walked back to the car and took Kelly home.

Of course I wish I could say that was the last time I ever saw Steve’s face again. But due to lack of evidence in the fact that Steve had given a false document allowing him to take Kelly, he wasn’t charged with kidnapping.

Plus his uncle got involved and swindled with his business talk saying that I was under a lot of pressure with the upcoming tour and that police action at the time of Kelly’s disappearance wasn’t necessary. He also emphasized that Kelly wasn’t harmed in anyway so it’s not like his nephew was an evil person. So the police believed James’ story and no charges were filed and Steve was a free man to do as he pleased.

Jack and I reinforced the school and even gave them Steve’s picture saying that if he ever came into the school again asking for Kelly again, they were to call the police because Steve Harrison does not have access to take Kelly out of school.

Little did I know that things were only going to get worse after that day.

*October 3rd, 1992. Jack’s POV*

It first began with the constant phone calls to the house. The phone was constantly ringing and everytime I picked it up, there was no one there. Just heavy breathing and then they’d hang up. It happened for hours on end, even at some odd hours in the night.

Soon enough I had had enough and decided to unplug all the house phones and I got me my first cellphone. If anyone in the family wanted to reach me, I told them to call by my new cellphone and that’s where I was talking to my Angel at.

‘Have the phone calls kept coming?’

“Unfortunately yes they did. But I unplugged the house phone so hopefully whoever it is gets the point and drops these crank calls and finds someone else to torment.”

‘I don’t know Jack. Maybe I should just come back and forget this tour.’

“No, no. Look, you nearly missed out the Angel-Queen tour back when we first met, I won’t let you cancel this tour either. Besides the world needs their Angel right now.” I assured her.

‘Yeah but—’

“What would he say right now?” I interrupted her. I heard her softly scoff and I knew she was smiling on the other end.

‘He’d tell me ‘Angel darling stop being so dramatic. There’s only room in this partnership for one hysterical Queen. Plus you’ll get early wrinkles’.’ We both laughed. ‘God I miss him so much. I can’t believe it’ll almost be a year come November.’

“I know. Have you talked to the guys at all since the concert?”

‘Not really. Figure I’d give them some space. They know my team’s number if they want to talk to me.’ I nodded and hummed in understandment so that she knew I was still listening.

“So you made it to Phoenix in one piece?”

‘Yeah thankfully. I’ll give you a call right after the show. Give the kids a kiss and cuddle for me.’

“Oh you know I will.” I said with a smile.

‘I love you Jack Kline; you know that right?’

“Of course I do. And I love you to the moon and back. Have a good show baby.”

‘I will. I love you.’

“I love you infinity times infinity there. Now you can’t say you love me more.” I heard her giggle. “Knock ‘em dead Angel.”

‘I will, bye.’

“Bye.” We both hung up and I deeply sighed.

“Daddy?” I looked up and there was Kelly in her nightdress holding her stuffed lion that her godfather gifted her.

“Hey baby girl, why are you awake?” I asked concerned. She walked up to me and sat down in my lap and said.

“I couldn’t sleep. Can you tell me a bedtime story? You know how like uncle Freddie used to tell me?” I stroked down her hair and said.

“Well, I’m not as extravagant or detailed as he used to make it but—I’ll do my best. C’mon I’ll make you some warm milk and tuck you back into bed, sound good?” she nodded. I picked her up, set her on the kitchen counter and prepared her some warm milk.

After that I carried her back to her bed and tucked her back under her covers and she took a sip of her milk.

“Okay so, what shall it be tonight? Do you want a story about—fairies?” she shook her head. “Unicorns?” again she shook her head. “Oh how about the story of a beautiful princess who gets saved by a knight in shining armor?”

“No daddy. Do you know the story of the lioness Queen?”

“The lioness Queen?”

“Uncle Freddie once told me a story about the lioness Queen who was raised by evil wolves but soon came on top as Queen of her own pride. He was gonna finish the story of how she would find herself a king but then—” she trailed off and I could see the tears prickling in her eyes. Oh that Freddie, of course he would tell our story like we were two lions.

“I think I know that story. Now again I may not be as good of a storyteller as Uncle Freddie was but I’ll do my best.” I sat down by her bedside and she cuddled up into her pillow, her stuffed lion in her arms. “Now let’s see……the Lioness Queen had reached the height of her reign. Everyone loved her because of her kindness and loyalty, but she was very much lonely. Sure she had the support of her new family but she still longed for someone she could love more than the family love she had from her new pride. So one day when she was out hunting, she was suddenly ambushed by the no good jackal. Now this jackal had particularly taken an interest in our brave Lioness Queen but she knew to not take any of his bullying. However he had brought his entire pack and they ganged up on the poor lioness.”

“Daddy don’t make it too scary.”

“Right, right, right I’m sorry angel. But the lioness Queen didn’t have to fear anymore. Because leaping from over the tall savannah grass was a dashing, handsome and powerful lion. He beat the jackals away and told the head jackal to leave and never bother the lioness again. Soon the jackal tucked his tail in like a frightened dog and fled the savannah and was never seen again. The lioness Queen was in debt to the young lion that saved her so she asked him if they could go to the watering hole together to talk and get to know each other more.”

I continued on to tell her mine and (Y/n)’s story of the day we met and fell in love with each other. Then about midway through the story I looked down and saw Kelly was finally back asleep. I smiled and kissed her forehead.

“Sleep tight my little lioness cub.” I walked out of her room and shut her door and walked back downstairs.

I walked towards the kitchen and I saw Sammy lying asleep on his doggie bed and Bucky asleep on his. But as soon as I came in, the two of them looked up at me.

“Hey Buck, Sammy.” Buck grunted as he sat up and came up towards me and sat down. I ruffled the top of his head. “Okay so what do you say last quick trip outside then time for you guys to get in your pin?” Sammy’s tail wagged as he immediately went towards the backdoor. I opened it up and he immediately went outside. “Alright Buck come on outside go out and go potty.”

But Bucky seemed tense. He lowly growled before racing towards the front door.

“Bucky? Buck!” Bucky went over to the front door and suddenly began barking aggressively and very loudly. “Buck! Buck shh! Quiet!” but he refused to listen to me. He kept barking and barking and barking. His fangs were out as he raced from the door to the windows. Growls came out of him and I noticed that his fur was on end.

Okay maybe it’s another dog or a raccoon or something, he tends to do that and we’re trying to break him of that habit. I grabbed his leash and when he was finally still I got it hooked to his collar and forced him towards his pin.

“Get in your pin now!” he snapped at him. I got him in his pin and as soon as I shut the door he started whimpering frantically, pacing around his pin letting out bark after bark. “Shhhh! You’re gonna wake the kids Buck now quiet!” I looked towards the front door and sighed heavily. Might as well just see just what’s out there.

I grabbed a flashlight and quickly stepped outside. I shined the light in every corner of darkness but I didn’t see a thing. No stray dog, nor a racoon, a cat not even a squirrel.

“That Buck is crazy sometimes.” It was then I noticed that our trashcan had somehow gone out to the side of the road. “I thought I brought that in when I came in this afternoon? Damn pranksters.” I left the front gate that surrounded our house and walked out to the curb to grab our trashcan and bring it back towards the side of the garage.

That’s when a loud purr of an engine roared through the quiet streets and bright headlights flashed right towards me. I heard the screeching of tires coming right towards me and without even thinking I ducked right up towards my driveway and I heard the sound of our garbage can being hit and tossed across the road.

The car’s lights soon turned off and sped off down the street. I panted heavily, my adrenaline now starting to collapse as I began to realize what could’ve happened just now.

Someone was trying to run me over and kill me. I knew that couldn’t be a mechanical problem cause why would the headlights suddenly come on and then accelerate straight towards me before driving normally down the road?

Only one person came across my mind as to who would go so far as to get rid of me. Steve.

I called up Jared and using his lawyer expertise he asked me various questions but unfortunately since I couldn’t identify the model of the car clear enough and couldn’t read the license plate in time there was no way for me to truly say it was him unless I could physically prove it.

But after that night I didn’t see Steve again, and I hoped that was the end of it. Until Halloween came around.

*Halloween night, 1992. 8:30pm*

I had just brought the kids in from our night of trick or treating. You know I’m glad we decided to allow the kids some time to know the American holidays cause I had to explain this to the guys as well as (Y/n) just what Halloween really was (since they don’t really celebrate it there in jolly old England).

I dressed the boys up as little lions while Kelly went as a witch this year. We all came in carrying our bags of candy.

“Candy!” Georgie exclaimed.

“That’s right buddy. We got candy, lots and lots of candy.” I told him as I got them out of their little red wagon.

“Daddy, daddy can we eat all the candy tonight please?” Kelly begged.

“You know your mother will kill me if she finds out I let you eat sweets before bedtime.” She whined before giving me her mother’s puppy dog face.

“Please daddy. Not even one itty bitty, teeny tiny bite?” I playfully placed my hands over her face which made her exclaim and shoo away my hand.

“You can have just one. Piece. But that’s it okay?” she cheered and quickly went through her bag and got out a blueberry flavored lollipop.

“Hey daddy? How come we can’t do trick or treating back where uncle Brian, uncle Deacy and papa Roger live?”

“Well sweetie, sometimes other countries don’t do the things we do. And sadly Halloween is just another day for them.”

“They should. Maybe next year papa Roger and I can be Star wars characters together.” I chuckled.

“I think your uncle Brian would enjoy that more than papa Roger.”

“But I wanted papa Roger and I to be Han and Princess Leia. Uncle Brian can be Chewie.”

“And uhh—who-who did you have in mind to be Luke?” I said brushing my fingers through my hair.

“Mommy! Cause she’s brave and strong just like Luke is! Georgie and Jackson can be R2.”

“And just who will uncle Deacy and I be?”

“Well uncle Deacy can be Obi-Wan and you’re C3-PO.” Wow she gives me the nagging droid.

“Oh so you think I’m a mindless philosopher ehh!? Come here you!” I quickly grabbed her and began tickling her which made her shriek and squirm. “Have me be Luke Skywalker or the tickling continues your highness!” I mimicked Darth Vader’s voice.

“Ne-nevheherererer!” she said through her laughter. I proceeded with the tickling till I heard the sound of a car engine coming down the street.

My mind suddenly went back to that night when I nearly got ran over. I set Kelly down on the floor and peeked through the curtains and could see someone standing right beside a familiar shape of a car that I knew well.

“Daddy? Is……everything okay?” I looked down at Kelly before quickly looking back towards the window.

“Kelly I need you to listen to me very carefully sweetheart. I want you to take your brothers and go to mommy and daddy’s room and hide in the closet. And no matter what happens do not come out till I come and get you, okay?”

“But why daddy? What’s going on?”

“Just!” I snapped but clenched my hand tightly and said as I knelt down to her height. “Please Kelly, do as your father tells you. Remember not a word or even let me see you till I tell you it’s safe, promise?”

“I promise.” I hugged her tightly and gave her a kiss and told her to go get her brothers and get upstairs. I glared at the door and opened it up before closing it. I walked towards the front gate and that’s when I heard his voice say.

“Well, well, well, Jack Kline I’ll be damned. Still around eh?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s me don’t cream your pants.” I sassed bluntly at him.

“Saw that you and the kiddies were doing a little trick or treating. That’s nice of you but umm…..what are you supposed to be? A new kid on the block?” I scoffed.

“What do you want Harrison?”

“What can’t a PA come up to check on his superstar?”

“I don’t know what world you live in but (Y/n) fired you last week.”

“Yeah, you see that-that-that’s…..that’s another reason why I came here. See, I personally am the best and most qualified PA that the Rock Angel could ever have. But while we were in Pittsburg, I get a notice saying that I’ve been fired. Now she never told me why so I thought who is more jealous of me and brainwashing the Rock Angel, than her own husband? So—care to explain?”

“Guess you were dropped as a child one too many times.” I walked closer to the front gate and said in Steve’s face. “She got tired of your advancements towards her. My wife isn’t like all other rock stars cause she’s been on the end of the cheating stick. And she knows to not put me or our kids through something like that.”

“Really lives up to her angel name huh?” he smart mouthed me. “Let me tell you though buddy boy. We have fucked with each other, and boy is she a freak in the sheets.” Bullshit I know he’s lying. “We’ve even fucked with each other here at your own house when you were away on business. I mean—who can say no to this?” he gestured to himself.

“You are even worse than we thought. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off Steve before I call the cops.”

“One problem with that amigo.”

“And what’s that? Amigo.” Suddenly I was grabbed by my shirt and a punch went straight through my stomach. I collapsed to the ground and the gate opened up. Steve stood over me and he sneered down.

“The cops are working for me.” I was then kicked in the ribs and I watched in horror as Steve kicked the door in and walked right on in the house.

*3rd Person POV*

As Steve entered the Kline residence, a place he had actually been inside a lot with his uncle on the meetings with (Y/n) to discuss further progress with her albums, brandings, etc. He walked up the stairs and went straight for the master bedroom where Jack and (Y/n) slept.

He looked around as he slowly walked around the bedroom before seeing the closet at the corner of his eyes. He turned towards it and walked right up to it before slowly reaching for the door. With a quick flick, the door was opened but no one was there. He then saw some of (Y/n)’s stuff like her hats and scarves.

He took a red scarf and inhaled it before pocketing it into his back pocket. That’s when he suddenly heard a thump from the corner of the room. That’s when his attention went to the wardrobe. A smirk spread across his face and as he opened it there he saw Kelly, Georgie and Jackson all huddled together.

“Hey kids, whatcha doin in here?”

“Go away! Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!” Steve laughed at Kelly’s empty demand.

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Suddenly he was turned around and a hard punch sent him down to the ground.

“Daddy!” Kelly cheered.

“Daddy! Daddy!” the boys repeated.

*Jack’s POV*

Like hell I was gonna just sit there and allow Steve to take whatever the hell he wants or worse find the kids. Spitting out some blood I staggered towards the house and walked up the stairs. That’s when I heard Kelly’s voice cry out.

“Mommy and daddy don’t like you anymore and neither do we!”

“Kids today. Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners little missy.” Like hell you will! I raced as Steve was talking and immediately grabbed him by the shoulder of his jacket, turned him around and sucker punched him across the face. My kids cried out for me while Steve staggered to stand up.

He soon began laughing before letting out a hoot. His nose bleeding from the punch I just gave him as well as his mouth.

“Looks like I underestimated you farm boy! I took you for a pushover but now I see just what that bitch sees in you! Lion King Jack she likes to call you!”

“Get. Out.” I demanded. Steve chuckled icily and said.

“And what if I don’t?” he spat blood in my face. I then let out a whistle and said two commands.

“Sick. Em.” Soon running past my right leg Sammy attacked Steve at his ankles tripping him over. Sammy maybe all sweet and innocent but when he needs to be (especially since Steve’s been around) he knows when someone needs to get bit.

Steve fell right onto his back as Sammy continued to bite and tear at his pants.

“YOU DAMN DOG!! LET GO!”

“You gonna surrender now?”

“FUCK. YOU!” I let out another whistle and soon barking in aggressively was Bucky. And being a German shepherd he was not holding back. Sammy released Steve’s leg for a moment and allowed his brother to take over.

Bucky bit Steve’s shoulder and tackled him to the ground and I knew he was biting down harder cause Steve’s screams got louder and more painful.

“Boys come!” the boys came back and stood guard of the wardrobe growling and protectively standing guard over my kids. “You wanna test me again or shall I give them a second chance at a new chew toy?”

Even with multiple dog bites, Steve managed to somehow stand up and he glared with pure hatred at me.

“I’ll—I’ll see to it……that those mutts are put down for attacking me. My uncle will hear about this! And I’ll be sure that you’re put away for a long, long time. I know you guys have no cameras in or outside of this house, so no cameras, no proof.” His sick twisting smirk widened across his face.

He staggered out of the bedroom but I heard the sound of him collapsing down to the ground. The dogs immediately went towards him but I didn’t hear any snarling or growling, instead I heard happy whimpering.

“Stay here kids.” I told them as I quickly I came out and I was shocked to see standing before Steve with a baseball bat in her hand was my wife, (Y/n). She panted softly as she dropped the bat and then took out one of our large kitchen knives.

Bucky and Sammy stood guard of the stairs to ensure that Steve didn’t even try to escape and that’s when (Y/n) sneered down at Steve.

“From now on you are no never come near me or my family again. I don’t care what kind of connections you have; we’ve got enough evidence with you in this house without consent and a struggle going on in my very bedroom.”

“Screw you…….bitch.” Steve murmured. Then I witnessed with my own eyes as my wife took that large 7in knife and slam it right down to the floor, very close to Steve’s dick. Any further up and she would’ve removed his very identity as a man.

“SAY YOU UNDERSTAND! Say it. SAY IT!!!” She roared down at him.

“I understand.” He muttered quietly.

“You what?!”

“I understand.” He said a bit louder. Her eyes steaming with hatred and fierce mother instincts stared Steve down as she removed the knife and she looked up to me and simply told me. “Call the police.”

Within minutes the police arrived and Steve was finally arrested. The police took our testimonies and a trial date was set for the 1st of December.

Now as I’m sure my wife as explained I wish we could say that was the last time we’d ever see Steve Harrison in our lives but we underestimated just how fucked up the legal system was here in California.

Thanks to his smooth, fast talking Uncle in trying to bride the judges and the jury, Steve didn’t serve any jail time. Only that he would have a restraining order set against him. By law he wasn’t to get anywhere within 50ft of (Y/n) or our family.

Steve Harrison was once again a free man.

By the start of 1993, my wife was once again trying to contact the judge, police, and any other law enforcement about taking Steve’s advances seriously. But all the same they kept turning her down saying there’s nothing else they can do.

That the restraining order will protect her, and if Steve does violate that then and only then could they talk serious jail time for him.

“Well then I want you guys to do one thing for me, the next time you bastards come to this house will be when my body is dead on the ground with a message in blood saying I told you so!” she hung up the phone and sobbed into her hands.

I slowly walked towards her and hesitantly sat down beside her. God I hate seeing her like this, she’s been worrying herself sick over this while still going on with the tour which will resume after this week.

“I—I don’t know what else to do Jack. I……” I refused to allow her to speak again. I embraced her as tightly as I could and she wept hysterically into my arms. Bucky and Sammy whimpering at our feet with Sammy licking her feet and Bucky nuzzling his head into her lap.

39 notes · View notes

cartoonfangirl1218 · 4 years ago

Note

I liked your ava post, do you have more aboout usm. The WHOle usm team?

I can’t say I have many many hcs but I’ll give you where I think they might end up after SHIELD, and two songs that fit them if that works.

Peter: I don't know why but I feel like Peter would want to look for his parents once he leaves SHIELD and while doing so, he ends up in a lot of team ups and building up more of his rogues gallery. Basically I imagine stuff from the comic with spider clones, dating MJ, briefly rejoins the Avengers then leaves. Yeah I don't have much for him since comic history leaves people to choose what they want. Imagine Dragon's Beliver because he does have such a heavy pain inside, but that's the thing, he keeps it inside until he snaps them into his fight for justice. "First things first, I'ma say all the words inside my head. I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been, The way that things have been.Second thing second, Don't you tell me what you think that I could be. I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea...Taking my message from the veins. Speaking my lesson from the brain. Seeing the beauty through the pain!"

Danny: I'd like to think that he stays in NY to start Heroes for Hire with Luke as soon as they leave SHIELD. They're bros, and he justifies the absence that New York needs Iron Fist more than K'Lun for the moment. He also tries his hand at getting Rand Industries back on track. I also think he does return to K'Lun eventually as King and mystical head. After his work at Rand Industries, he feels more confident as a leader and is willing to stand up to the monks when it comes with changing some of the old ways. Allowing him to travel back to NY to see his friends while keeping the mystical origins of K'Lun sacred. I think Nature Boy rather fits him, soft and melodious and Danny learning he is not alone sort of. "There was a boy. A very strange enchanted boyThey say he wandered very far..Very far over land and sea. A little shy and sad of eye. But very wise, was he." Les Miserables’ Who am I mainly because I imagine Danny has some identity issues between feeling worthy of the Iron Fist, feeling torn between the US and K'Lun. Ideally, he would end up learning being one does not give up the other part of himself. As one would say they can coexist in a balance. "Who am I? Can I conceal myself forever more.. Pretend I’m not the man I was before?....How can I ever face my fellow men? How can I ever face myself again?"

Luke: As said above, with Danny, when they leave SHIELD, they create Heroes for Hire, they ride or die forever. Together they clean up their part of New York and Luke comes to terms with some of his past and the people he dealt with in jail. He also meets Jessica Jones during this time and she becomes his new partner (in more ways than one) when Danny leaves for K'Lun. He sometimes does freelance work for SHIELD, mainly at the behest of his parents, sometimes as a favor to Fury. He also sometimes comes by the Helicarrier to be a surprise mentor to whatever new hero they pick up. He is the main instigator of team reunions.

Adam Levine’s If I got locked away totally fits him after the time he spent in jail and scared of being seen as weak, it really fits him and his insecurities. "If I got locked away And we lost it all today. Tell me honestly, would you still love me the same? If I showed you my flaws. If I couldn't be strong. Tell me honestly, would you still love me the same?" One call away also fits him simply for his caring nature and how he'll do anything for his friends, "I'm only one call away. I'll be there to save the daySuperman got nothing on me. I'm only one call away/ Call me, baby, if you need a friend. I just wanna give you love...No matter where you go, know you're not alone. I'm only one call away."

Ava: I think once Ava leaves SHIElD, she has some trouble with the amulet whether form being on her own, knowing SHIELD isn't there watching her every move or just cockiness that she can handle it now. Either way, I see her as taking a break from the amulet. Reasoning her father wanted her to keep it safe, it didn't mean she had to put it on and be a hero. Ideally, she goes to therapy to work through all these issues before ever putting it on again. I imagine she goes home to PR too. I think she could go into bounty hunting, it's more freelance, she helps put baddies away and she can put her investigative skills to good use. Eventually she'd be White Tiger again but for more superpowered threats than every day patrolling. Just breathe from In the Heights not only for the spanish influences but also the utter fear of returning a failure, "Straighten the spine. Smile for the neighbors. Everything's fine, everything's cool. The standard reply: Lots of tests, lots of papers. Smile, wave goodbye and pray to the sky, "Oh God!" And what will my parents say? Can I go in there and say, "I know I'm letting you down..." Alyssa Greene from The Prom. The lyrics speak for themselves of the utter perfectionism and drive, "The hair has to be perfect. The As have to be straight...Trophies have to be first place. Ribbons have to be blue. There's always some competition or hoops for jumping through. Just have everything perfected by the time you reach eighteen"

Sam: Admittedly I don't know much about Nova lore or backstory as the others but I think he'll go back to space. Not necessarily as part of the Guardians because honestly I think they had enough members without him. Maybe as a solo act before he finds the other Nova Corps. I definitely see him as becoming a trainer there, finally being the leader he always wanted to be. I also want him to reconnect with his family so he does travel back to Earth to visit them and then swoops by NY for some reunion with his old team before heading back to space.

Bieber’s Lonely fits Sam because at the heart of it all, I think that's what he is. Lonely, he's still young and trying to navigate these powers and his place in the world and space and what his identity is. And no one else can quite get that. "Everybody knows my name now. But somethin' 'bout it still feels strangeLike lookin' in a mirror, tryna steady yourself and seein' somebody else. And everything is not the same now. It feels like all our lives have changed Maybe when I'm older, it'll all calm down. But it's killin' me now. What if you had it all, nut nobody to call? Maybe then you'd know me 'cause I've had everything. But no one's listening and that's just f- lonely." Shawn Mendes' Wonder works for similar reasons. Mainly I imagine him singing it to his missing father who inherited so much but knows nothing personally about him, "I wonder why I'm so afraid of saying something wrong, I never said I was a saint. I wonder, when I cry into my hands. I'm conditioned to feel like it makes me less of a man and I wonder if someday you'll be by my side and tell me that the world will end up alright. I wonder..I wonder." And then a party song for each

Sam: All I do is win by DJ Khaled "All I do is win, win, win no matter what. Got money on my mind, I can never get enough ('Nough) And every time I step up in the building Everybody hands go up And they stay there And they stay there, up, down, up, down, up, down 'Cause all I do is win (Win), win (Win), win And if you going in put your hands in the air, make 'em stay there"

Luke: Finesse by Bruno Mars, "We out here drippin' in finesseIt don't make no sense Out here drippin' in finesse You know it, you know it We out here drippin' in finesse It don't make no sense Out here drippin' in finesse You know it, you know it"

Peter: Another one bites the dust by Queen "nother one bites the dustAnother one bites the dust And another one gone and another one gone Another one bites the dust Hey I'm gonna get you too Another one bites the dust"

Danny: Normally, I don't think Danny would be into party music, too much cursing, too much noise to distort the mind, that stuff. But Rihanna is catchy. "I wanna take you away, let's escape into the music, DJ, let it playI just can't refuse it, like the way you do this Keep on rockin' to it Please don't stop the, please don't stop the music I wanna take you away, let's escape into the music, DJ, let it play I just can't refuse it, like the way you do this Keep on rockin' to it Please don't stop the, please don't stop the, please don't stop the music"

Ava: Woman by Ke$ha "I'm a motherfucking woman, baby, alright I don't need a man to be holding me too tight I'm a motherfucking woman, baby, that's right I'm just having fun with my ladies here tonight I'm a motherfucker" This other cool blog is much more into USM and has tons of hcs if you want more of this stuff, @im-rewriting-ultimate-spider-man

#ultimate spiderman #usm #peter parker #spider man #ava ayala #white tiger #danny rand #iron fist #luke cage #power man #sam alexander #nova #my hcs #my headcanons

24 notes · View notes

jaywritessmut · 4 years ago

Text

Weiß Chapter II- Calm Before the Storm

*Weiß- White in German

Florian Munteanu x black female reader (All my fics are with black women in mind!)

Warnings: mentions of death & drug use, criminal undertakings & unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!) Authors note: I finally found time to get this chapter up and I’ll be back to posting this story regularly. I’m introducing new characters in the next few chapters so keep posted. Message me if you want to be added to the tag list! Word Count: 3.4K

Weeks had gone by since her tryst with Florian, but Snow made no effort to discuss it. As far as she was concerned, it was a one time thing, just two people relieving stress and pent up emotions. She knew Flo was the non-committal type so his feelings couldn’t hurt all that much. And she herself was no stranger to casual sex. To Snow, forgetting it even happened was the best approach. Having a fling with her new enforcer wasn’t a smart business move and right now she needed to be very strategic with her next choices.

Klaus’s death was wrapped up in so much uncertainty and she struggled to make sense of it. Flo’s theory was that the Russians killed him for seeking a new supplier. Apparently, Klaus had scheduled some meetings with people he suspected of being in the game themselves. But that just didn’t make sense to her. The Russian syndicate had been a reliable supplier for quite some time. Consistent quality, good price. What could make Klaus do something so stupid as to go against them? She played out different scenarios in her head but none of them helped her connect the dots. What she wouldn’t give to sit with her old friend and pick his brain for a bit. He was her closest friend and she began to realize how much of a mystery he was to her.

She’d been spending a lot more time at the club in the recent weeks. Between Florian giving her an overview of the enterprise and her desire to keep an eye on the business numbers, she had very little need to be elsewhere. And thankfully things at the club were phenomenal. Klaus had done an excellent job at hiring skilled staff that could do their job and securing talented entertainment to keep the guest list filled up. She was pleased to see that they were booked for DJ's and musicians for the next 6 months. And their scout, Jonas, was searching to fill the calendar for the rest of the year. At least she didn’t have to worry about her legitimate business.

Today though, Florian was going to teach her how to look over the count. Every week, the “foot soldiers” came and dropped off their take from the product they sold. Florian and Klaus would then verify it and make sure they were consistent with what they had been given. The dealers were then told to wait for pickup details so they could get new product to sell. As Florian recounted all the steps, her mind swirled, overwhelmed with her situation.

“I’m a fucking drug dealer” she lamented, burying her face in her hands.

“Technically you’re a drug lord” Florian responded, causing her head to jerk back in surprise.

“What difference does it make? I’m still involved!”

“Yeah, but you’re anonymous. The people who buy our product won’t ever see your face. They don’t even know you exist. Du bist ein geist”

“Why is that strangely comforting?”

“Because it’s true. You’re protected. None of our people are ever going to rat on you. If you go down, this whole thing goes down and they lose the good money they make. Keeping you hidden, keeps their pockets happy”

“So why should I even be meeting with the Russians? Wouldn’t showing my face to them jeopardize all that?” A few days after their hookup, Florian received a call from Mikhail, the leader of the Russian enterprise they did business with. He told them that there was a new leader and they were all too happy to schedule a meeting. Snow wondered what their reaction would be once they came face to face with her.

“That’s different”. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“So think of it this way. A dealer is a little fish. He gets picked up, the police only want to use him to find who the bigger fish is, the boss. And that’s you. Then they use you to find the even bigger fish, your suppliers”

“The Russians”

“Genau. So now it’s in both of your best interest to keep each other hidden. If he gets caught, he has nothing to really bargain with. He still cares about his rep so he won’t throw you under the bus which means you walk away untouched. But if you get caught,”

“Then I can leverage knowing who he is”

“And now you understand. You’re probably the most protected person in this scenario. So relax Schnee”

She rolled her eyes at his nickname for her. It was starting to grow on her but she’d never tell him that. And to her surprise, she felt comforted by his breakdown of things. She knew the risks of being involved and it was something that weighed on her mind as she became more hands on.

Late afternoon rolled in and it was time to prepare for her first meeting with the crew. Florian took her into Klaus office and gave her a quick walkthrough of what she needed. The money counter, Klaus’ iPad and the safe where the cash was placed. She took in the photos and assorted knick knacks he decorated the room with. A framed photo of the two of them on his desk made her feel a sharp pang of loss. In this room, his presence was heavily felt. So she made a mental note to call a decorator to renovate the space.

One by one, her crew members trickled into the large room. She recognized some faces from the club which worried her. If they did get caught, how easy would it be for police to connect them to the club or her? And even though Flo was sure they’d keep quiet, how much could she really trust them? Sensing her distress, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Relax. These are all Klaus’ people. He trusted them”

She pushed past the tingling feeling that came over her as his warm breath tickled the sensitive spot beneath her ear. A smug grin came across his face.

“Focus mädchen” he playfully warned.

She steeled herself and prepared for the remaining crew members to come and introduce themselves. But it was an all too familiar face that sparked fear and then rage into her heart.

“Emmeline, what the fuck!?”

“Hey Lise”. Her sister nervously bit her lip, waiting for Snow to say more.

Her baby sister, Emmeline stood in front of her, a pink duffle bag gripped tightly in her hands. She felt absolute betrayal at the fact Klaus had approved of this without telling her.

“No. Absolutely not”

“Snow” Florian warned.

“You knew about this?!” Her head turned to him with eyes full of contempt. It was one thing that her best friend and associate kept silent on this, but Flo too? How was she supposed to trust him if he kept something this big from her?

“She’s our best dealer. She brings all the socialites to the club and Klaus thought it be good for business”

“She’s my baby sister!”

“She’s right here! Look Lise, don’t be mad. I begged Klaus to give me a shot. And besides, it’s not like I work on the streets. I just bring my rich friends to the club”

“So why are you here now?”

“Well, occasionally I supply parties. And I sometimes sell to the women at the day spas. You’d be surprised how popular coke is to those trophy wives”

Snow put her head in her hands and took deep breaths to calm herself. This whole situation was fucked up. It was bad enough that she was running the business, and now her sister was in on it too? Honestly, what the fuck was Klaus thinking?

Resigned to her fate, Snow sat up and wore a blank expression to conceal the swirl of emotions running through her.

“We’ll talk about this later” Her clipped tone let Florian and her sister know that this conversation was far from over.

When the rest of the crew showed up, they lined up against the wall across from Klaus desk. One by one, Florian called them up to turn in their take. He counted the bills by hand then with an automated machine before inputting the numbers into the iPad he had shown her. After inputting the info, he listened attentively as they gave a run through of the territory they covered. And apparently things were going well, with the exception of Alexanderplatz.

“It’s nothing, but the car keeps rolling through our territory” Luka, one of the faces she recognized earlier, had finished telling them about some suspicious activities on one of the streets he serviced.

“Cops?” Florian probed.

“Nein. They’re too obvious. Cops hide. These guys pull up across the street and make eye contact. They want us to know they’re there.”

“When did this start?” Snow inquired.

Luka paused in thought before realization came over him.

“Come to think of it, the night that Klaus was killed. Emil called to tell me some car had parked across the street. He thought it was the police so he closed up early. But then later on he said he thought the driver looked like that Dmitry guy that comes by the club sometimes”

Snow and Florian shared a knowing look. Dmitry was the younger brother of Mikhail and his business partner. The fact that he was purposely snooping on their crew was suspicious enough. Could the Russians really have been behind Klaus’ death?

“Thank you for telling us. Let us know the next time they pull up.”

“You got it Bossin”. An exciting jolt ran through her at hearing her new title. She liked it way more than Florian’s name for her.

The rest of the crew had uneventful reports to share when handing in their take. She was grateful that there weren’t more issues to worry about. But to her dismay, Emmeline’s count was the highest by far. Just her luck.

“You gotta let me know when more product comes in ASAP. I’ve got a line of clients wanting to stock up for a major party next week”

“We’ll have to discuss that before anything is decided” Snow watched as her sister narrowed her eyes in contempt. She knew this wasn’t going to be an easy battle.

“Lise, you’ve got to be shitting me. Look at my count, I’m bringing in serious profit!”

“I can see that. But I’m in charge now and I reserve the right to make changes to my crew and who I allow to represent the business. I’ll discuss it with Florian and let you know”

“You’re really going to be a bitch about this?”

Emmeline’s mouth had always been her problem. She was quick to pop off without thinking things through. Most of the time, Snow ignored her. But today, her attitude set her off and caused her once controlled anger to spike.

“Everybody out, NOW!” Snow’s voice took on a commanding tone that made everyone stand at attention. Even Florian found himself quickly rising from his seat and leaving the office. He flashed Emmeline a sympathetic glance before closing the door behind himself.

Turning to her sister, Snow tried her best to control her tone.

“Look I’m not sure what Klaus was thinking by letting you in on this. But this little arrangement stops now”

There were too many variables to consider and she was by no means comfortable with putting her sister at risk.

“God you’re impossible. You can’t ever let me have anything for myself”

“Girl cut the crap. I’m your biggest supporter and always have been. I have your back with anything you pursue but not this Em. This is way too dangerous”

“So you can be a drug lord, but I can't?” she countered.

“Grow the fuck up Emmeline. My involvement is drastically different from yours and you know it”

“Bullshit! You pretend to care about me when really you just don’t want to share the spotlight. You want all this for yourself. Can’t have your baby sister be doing just as good as you, huh?”

To her detriment, Emmeline would go out of her way to prove that she was just as good, if not better than her older sister. Yet Snow never indulged her. She’d always felt that their “rivalry” was one sided.

“Em, this is about your safety. What I’m doing is so unbelievably dangerous. I just lost my best friend. I can’t lose you too”

Her sister folded her arms across her chest and let out a frustrated sigh.

“I get it Lise, I do. But I’m an adult. I’m old enough to make my own choices and decide what’s risky. I have my own system and people I vet before doing business with them. I'm good at this Lise, let me show you. Besides, nobody here has your back like I do. I’ll be damned if I leave you to do this without people in your corner”

“I’ve got Flo. He’s been helping me the past few weeks”

“Oh I’m sure you do,” she suggested.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that Tamir told me he saw you leave the club with Flo a few weeks ago. He came back the next morning in his clothes from the night before. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” she teased.

“Nope. Not a thing. Let’s just get back to business” she urged as she made her way to the door. She was not having that conversation today.

“So does that mean I can stay on?” she bounced in excitement waiting for her sister’s response.

“For now. But I mean it Em. One hint of you being in danger and I pull you out”

Squealing with excitement, Emmeline rushed forward and pulled Snow in a tight hug

“Thank you Lise! I promise I’ll be safe, just watch, you’ll never have to worry about me”

“You’re my baby sister. I’m always going to worry” She held her tightly, wondering if she was making a mistake.

A knock on the door interrupted their moment as Florian stuck his head in the door frame.

“Y’all good?”

“Yes Florian, we’re good”

“Great, can we wrap up things then? We still have to set up the club for tonight”

The club was hosting a memorial event in Klaus’ honor. There were planned speeches from friends and business associates before a night of dancing and letting loose. It seemed fitting for a man who was determined to have a good time where he went.

After inputting final numbers into the iPad and securing the cash, Florian stood up behind the desk.

“I know the past few weeks have been tough with Klaus being gone. We all miss him and want to find who’s responsible for his death. I want to thank you all for keeping it together and running things smoothly. Just keep up the good work and keep an eye out for anything funny going on. We’re a family and we have each other's backs, okay?”

He turned to Snow expectantly.

“Bossin, want to add anything?”

It caught her by surprise. She hadn’t thought of preparing anything to say. She really was just there to watch and learn. But if she was going to step up and run things, now was the time to make her presence known. She stood up and pushed past the nerves that overcame her and spoke.

“Some of you may know me as the owner of the club, but I’ve always been the head of the enterprise. I simply trusted Klaus to be the mastermind that kept things going and I can see now I was right. You’re all doing very well for yourselves, the numbers don’t lie. The system he created is incredible”

The group before her hummed in agreeance.

“With Klaus gone, I’ll be taking a more active role. Florian is getting me accustomed to things but I know I’ll be very well versed in how things work. So make no mistake, I am the one calling the shots. You all answer to me. You give me respect and loyalty, I reward you. And if you cross me? Let’s just say you don’t want to find out what will happen. So let’s keep things on a positive note and keep working as a team, We’re in this together and if one of us fucks up, it puts us all at risk. Alles klar?”

Assorted affirmations echoed through the room and that familiar jolt ran through her again. Being in charge did things to her and she was half tempted to kick everyone out and fuck Flo on the desk. But she forced the idea from her mind.

That’s what I get for fucking my enforcer she thought to herself.

Florian dismissed the team after telling them to keep an eye out for the pick up details. Emmeline shot her sister a knowing look as she sauntered out the room and closed the door behind her.

The vibe in the room changed as soon as the door closed. She could feel the tension hanging heavily in the air. She watched as Flo walked over to the safe, securing the iPad with the cash counted earlier. The sight of his back muscles flexing in the white Henley tee he wore brought flashbacks of her nails digging into the taut flesh just weeks ago.

Flo turned to face her, taking in her flushed appearance and ragged breathing. A look of realization came across his face as he walked over to her.

“Don’t tell me you get off on being in charge, huh?”

He sauntered over to her, lightly tracing his lower lip with his tongue. She imagined him running it over the sensitive flesh between her thighs.

“That’s funny, I could’ve sworn you liked it when someone else took the reigns”

He kept pursuing her until she found herself pushed up against the large oak desk. Florian reached forward and gently lifted her on the desk before slowly hitching up the maxi skirt she wore. A whimper broke through her throat at the feel of his calloused hands on her thighs.

“So tell me Schnee? Who’s in charge now? Ich oder du?”

He pulled her in, hungrily claiming her mouth with an intense need for more. His hands slipped further up her skirt relishing in the feel of her warm, smooth skin. He traced the rough pads of his fingertips on her inner thighs, causing her to spread her legs wider. He took advantage of the extra room and pushed closer against her. His noticeable erection brushed against her clit through the thin lace of her panties and she moaned into his kiss, causing him to grow harder.

Snow was desperate to feel him, to have him completely consume her. Her body moved of its own accord, her hips thrusted upwards to feel him once more. Internally she was waging a mental war. Her logical mind fought to snap her out of this spell and to push him away before things escalated, but she was too far gone. His hands worked their way to the loop of her lace panties causing all doubts and reservations to scatter.

“Flo please” she mewled as his lips latched onto the sensitive flesh on her shoulder. Right now, there was only one goal on her mind; to be pinned underneath him while he had his way with her.

But the sudden knock at the door halted their plans and snapped them out of the trance. Hearts beat wildly as they gazed at one another, stunned by what almost transpired. A second knock sprung them into action and they quickly made themselves presentable. Snow smoothed out her skirt and fixed her hair while Florian made sure to to hide the impressive bulge in his pants. With one glance back at Snow, he opened the door to Emmeline standing there with a knowing grin on her face.

“Excuse me” he mumbled before taking off to the bar to prepare for the evening's events.

Emmeline stared at his retreating form with that same smirk before turning back to her sister.

“What did you need Em? Snow carefully took a seat behind desk to conceal the slight tremor in her knees. But Emmeline didn’t miss the shaky tone of her voice.

“Girl stop playing with me and tell the truth! Y’all fucking?”

Snow couldn’t help the giggles that spilled out. Her sister was not going to let this go until she knew the truth.

“Fine” she huffed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I’ll tell you everything but we’re going to need a lot of wine”

Translations:

Genau- Exactly

Du bist ein geist- “You are a ghost”

mädchen- girl

Nein-no

Bossin- boss

Alles klar?- Is everything clear?

Ich oder du- “Me or you?”

My Taglist: (Message me to be added)

@fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @champagnesugamama @designerwriterchic @xxkissatmidnightxx @cavillsbussy @starbeanz @scoop93535

#florian munteanu x reader #florian big nasty munteanu #florian munteanu smut #weiß series

60 notes · View notes

preferredrealty · 5 years ago

Text

Pulse - A Mob!Shawn Mendes Imagine

SOOO This is like a prequel to a Mob!Shawn series I'm working on.

PULSE - Mob!Shawn Imagine.

SOOO This is like a prequel to a Mob!Shawn series I’m working on.

Bullets whizzed through the air as the bass from the stereo shook the blood splattered walls of the mansion that over looked the city of Hollywood.

Shawn stood with a smirk on his face as he looked down at the man on his knees in front of him, cowering with blood dripping down the side of his head, where Shawn had hit him with the butt of his gun. A tut escaped Shawn’s lips as he noticed blood splattered on his crisp white button shirt. "This was new." He grunted, crouching to press the gun to the mans cheek. "Now, I know your pathetic excuse of a team hasn't got the brains to organize the attack on my men Maxwell but if there is one thing I know you are good at, it's hiring someone to do your dirty work...So!" He chucked pulling the slide of his Glock back loading a bullet into the chamber.

"Tell me who you hired." Maxwell sobbed as the cool metal pressed into his cheek once again, Shawn’s finger resting on the trigger. "Sh-She's a- She works in a club! On the boardwalk! P-Pulse it's called..ask for Daisy!" Maxwell cried. Shawn smirked bringing his other hand up to pat Maxwells other cheek harshly. "Good man Maxwell!" Removing his hand he pulling the trigger, Maxwells body falling with a thud.

Walking out the front door of the mansion Shawn un-buttoned his shirt, opening the trunk of his black Tesla Model S, reaching for the folded white shirt identical to the one he had just removed. Connor and Brian walked out of the house with grins on their faces, the tell-tale smell of gasoline mixing in the air of the tossed two Jerry Cans aside.

Lighting a cigar Shawn took a puff before turning to the two men smirking around the cigar stuck between his teeth. "Clean yourselves up boys, we're going out tonight." Brian and Connor whooped as they climbed into the car, Shawn took one more look at the house before flicking his ashes on the trail of gasoline, climbing into his car as the house went up in flames.

A neon purple sign hung over a crappy looking store making Shawn frown, sticking one hand into the pocket of his black slacks as he scratched his chin with the other, the designer shirt pulled taunt over the muscles of his back making his undo the top few buttons exposing his chest.

Brian and Connor snickers at him, glancing back at the beach where some women were lounging in the last bit of sunshine. "I think Maxwell screwed you over man." Connors head turned to watch two women in skin tight dressed and too much makeup entre the store. "That don’t look like a outfit to go shopping in." Brian whistled. "Come on." Shawn snapped walking into the store.

Bongs, Bum Bags, Flags, Wall Art, you name in you could probably find it in this store. Looking around Shawn couldn't see the two girls making his head turn to the guy at the register of the store. Walking up to him Shawn leaned on the counter looking into his eyes which were heavily blood shot. 'Stoned out of his head.'

"So...not quite the club i was expecting." Shawn raised an eyebrow at the guy who just smiled leaning forwards resting his elbows on the register, placing his chin on the palms of his hands. "I have no idea what you're talking about man." He grinned, eyes lazily dragging towards a neon dollar sign hanging on the wall.

A puff of air escaped Shawn’s lips as he dug into his slacks pulling a clip of money from them, sliding $100 over the register. "Nice" The guy grinned nodding his head over to a tie-dye wall hanging. Brian glared at him before moving to pull the hanging back revealing a black door with PULSE painted on it in purple. Standing straight Shawn made his way over, pulling the door open revealing a stairwell, painted completely black with purple neon arrows on the walls pointing down, a dull thump of bass catching his ears. Nodding at Brian and Connor he started to walk down the stairs.

Coming to a sliding metal door at the bottom Shawn grabbed the handle pulling it effortlessly, music and fog like smoke flooding out to greet him. For a second he was shocked that this was hiding just feet from the beach. A giant warehouse like basement was filled with people jumping and dancing to the beat of the music, smoke filled the air making the strobe lights more visible. A DJ was on a platform at the far end of the warehouse, a huge bar lines one side, the other was various booths which was clearly VIP.

"Okay!" He yelled over the music catching Brian and Connors attention. "Brian, you take the DJ booth try and find 'Daisy'. Connor talk your way into VIP! Do the same." The two nodded going their separate ways as Shawn shook himself making his way towards the bar.

Leaning against the bar he caught the bar mans attention ordering a bourbon as his eyes scanned the people around him. As he handed the bar man the money he caught a conversation behind him. "Damn it Daisy! You're a fucking mess." He turned to find a blonde headed girl struggling to carry a red head who was clearly on the cusp of passing out. Sinking his drink he smirked before plastering a false concerned face and large puppy eyes.

Reaching to tap the blonde on the shoulder he lowered his head to her ear. "Can I offer you a hand? You seem like you could use it." A grateful smile made its way to her face as Shawn wrapped his arm around the red head who he now knew as 'Daisy'. Following the blonde through two black double doors it lead to a storage area. Setting Daisy on a box the blonde smiled at Shawn. "Thank you!" She cheered the music now muffled. Her smile dropped as Shawn pushed his sleeves up smirking. "No problem." He chirped before slamming the girls head into a near by shelf knocking her out.

"Now." He hummed looking around finding a gallon of water, he lifted it effortlessly undoing the top before tipping it over Daisy’s head. A gasp came from her as she shot up looking around confused before her eyes met his. "Oh my-" She was cut off by Shawn grabbing her hair roughly. "Daisy, we need a chat."

A figure sighed happily sinking back into a leather chair watching monitors of the club below, people behind her working busily counting money and sorting it into piles. Watching the monitor as two barely covered women made their way down into the club, her eyes watching as Matt, her ever loyal friend adjusting the wall hanging that covered the door to her club before winking at the camera. She shook her head as he took another hit from a bong as the door of the store opened again. She slowly sat forward looking at a mop of curly hair. Slowly sitting forward the uncrossed her legs, her knee high red bottom heels clicking on the floor. "Holy Shit." She laughed in disbelief standing from her chair, the snug black dress shifting on her body as she pulled open a drawer of her desk revealing a silver Glock, grabbing the gun she walked to the door with a confident grin.

"I don't know you man!" Daisy spat as blood spilled from her lips. "No but you knew Maxwell and I know you planned an attack on some of my guys for him." Shawn hissed as he crouched before her. "Now, either you tell me who you work for or I'll cut it out of you." He glared and pulled a knife from his slacks. Pressing the knife to her cheek he started to apply pressure when the two black doors flew open and a woman walked in.

Ice ran through Shawn’s veins as he locked eyes with her, feeling like a hand had wrapped around his heart and squeezed a audible gasp left his lips as she stepped forward lifting his chin up with a finger, her freshly done acrylic nails digging into his skin slightly. "(Y/N)" He breathed in shock. His eyes still locked on hers as a smirk built onto her lips. "Long time no see baby." Was the last thing he heard before she brought the butt of her gun down on his head with force knocking him unconscious.

Looking at Daisy with a devious glint in her eyes (Y/N) bit her red painted lip with a grin. "This is going to be so much fun."

SOOO feed back? Please? What y’all think? Interested in the series?

#shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #mendes #shawn #mob!shawn #badboy!shawn #peter mendes #raul mendes

121 notes · View notes

entropic-introspection · 4 years ago

Text

Of interest to absolutely no one, but she jumped out of my head like peckin’ Athena, so:

OC tiiiiiime~ for someone else’s DnD world because I’m real cool like that, @modmad I wanna thank you again for putting together the Toonkind DnD playlists together because that’s currently my mental glue and it makes my brain go “!!”

The OC is not, in fact, Toonkind. She’s Reelkind! A kenku, to be precise, which means if she’s at a distance and you squint you might mistake her for a bird-like Toonkind if you flubbed that Perception roll.

Her “proper name” that tends to get used on paperwork is “Will-Whistle-Work”. For those unfamiliar with kenku, they are roughly analogous to humanoid flightless crows, and communicate verbally solely through mimicry. Their real names are often just a jumble of sounds, which are then typically translated into Common in a descriptive fashion. So Will-Whistle-Work isn’t precisely a standard kenku name, but it’s the one she’s decided to stick with while in Toontown, and she’ll answer to Will or Whistle. Or “triple-u”, if you wanna be punny.

It might surprise her new Toon friends, then, to find out that other Reelkind in far-off lands previously called her “Will O’ Whistle”, because that’s a fun sort of pun on what her actual name is. Her actual factual kenku name is a very distinctive sound produced by the Engineer’s pride and joy, his train Will O’ the Wisp, or Willow. The train has an unmistakable whistle, and Will adopted it as her name from the first time she watched one of the Engineer’s films, which featured Willow. Her name is Willow’s whistle, punctuated by the crackling pop of very old and bad speakers trying to go too loud.

As you might guess, Will adores film. She loves the Engineer’s films, oh absolutely, but just film in general is her absolute favorite medium. A lot of films are made by Toonkind over Reelkind, since Toons have natural abilities that let them do some crazy stuff (animation supremacy UwUb), so she’s seen a lot of Toons on the silver screen before ever meeting them in real life. It’s a large part of why she moved to Einquell and Toontown, to get closer to the movie making process as well as because it seemed like the sort of place where people weren’t about to look at her funny because she had feathers.

She hoped to be an actor when she was younger, but in her old age of 18 (kenku do age faster than humans, so she’s comparitively mid-20s), she’s sort of resigned herself to working backstage. While her physical acting is up to par, she has been made very well aware by multiple people that her vocal “deficiencies” make her a poor choice for any sort of major role. She can mimic anyone and nearly anything perfectly, but she can’t actually speak in her own voice. She tried getting around this by having someone read phonemes aloud, but the end result is very flat and Microsoft Sam-like (think Moonbase Alpha). If she were to be an actor, she would essentially be a body double for someone else’s voice. Or she would have to essentially “steal” someone’s voice, whether or not they knew it.

Still, she’s actually quite happy at her current job- working at the Dodo Studios! Sure, she was hired on by DJ Mooves, and she’s absolutely too embarrassed to talk to the Engineer or ever go look at Willow, but Dodo Studios! Do you even know what sort of films they’ve turned out in past years? And now she’s a part of that?! Thanks in part to her kenku abilities but also her own hard work, she serves as one of the chief Foley artists. Even movies that are more of a music video need background sounds, after all!

Her class (probably, I have never played DnD) is an Artificer, which is the secondary reason for her name. Willow is a gorgeous piece of work, and Will absolutely wants to run her hands all over her and elope examine that beautiful piece of engineering and set design. You can absolutely see her perk up any time the train is as much as mentioned. She likes to tinker in her spare time, and she’s pestered the owls and penguins until they started teaching her about the cameras and other technology used in movie making. She’s drawn up a few plans for possible improvements (those broom cams are brilliant, but are there better ways to stabilize them? What about if-) but she’s unwilling to push herself or her ideas forward. Trying to give long explanations or convincing arguments is hard when you have to first check your memory for phrases said in the proper tone to give the emotional cadence you want.

And that’s mostly it for Will-Whistle-Work! She’ll whistle while she works, but not on set because she is a professional (and like all actors, slightly superstitious). She does like to call people not by their names, but by either their “catch phrases”, such as Snailien’s “Hello! Hello!”, or a joke, like referring to Larry with the dueling banjos theme. She also loves Toons because they make much funnier noises than humans, and also Grawlix is hilariously good fun to try and mimic. They also catch on faster to when she uses sound as an emotional or environmental queue, such as using the sound of a boiling kettle to indicate anger or embarrassment.

#toonkind dnd oc #when i say leapt fully formed like athena from my head: I MEAN IT #will-whistle-work #like srsly most of this pieced itself together inside of an hour with only a few details added later #so i now gently set her adrift in the muddy currents of the internet JUST SO MY BRAIN WILL SHUT UP

2 notes · View notes

taiblogcomics · 4 years ago

Text

Mon-test of Champions

Hey there, fabric faces. Well, it's quite nearly Halloween. As such, I see no reason to spoil the nice holiday with a Red Hood comic. Instead, let's follow what's become something of a tradition for this blog the last couple years. Alas, due to pandemic, I did not return to that used bookstore and pick up more Bailey School Kids like I promised last year. But I do have another excellent treat for you. While this particular book wasn't a major part of my childhood, its author was: Bruce Coville.

I don't think this guy ever wrote a stinker of a book. Maybe some of the Space Brat series, but I think they were directed at a younger audience. But others were really good. The My Teacher is an Alien books were about humanity's place in the universe and their worth as a species. The Aliens Ate My Homework series was ultimately about the importance of being kind. The Magic Shop books were always about self-improvement. The point is, they were great books. I highly encourage you to pick up a few if you've never read any of his work. Now, as for the one we're covering today, it's not really as deep as his other works. But it does suit the season, and that's what's important~

Here's the cover, as photographed by me, because it's really hard to find a decent one on Google:

Oh boy, you can really tell by their jeans and high-tops that this is the '80s. Not to mention the audience's haircuts. And indeed, this book was published in 1989. It's actually one of his earlier books. Anyway, the Count here has something to declare, Frankenstein is supportive, and the Mummy's just happy to be here. The Wolfman, however, is looking directly into the camera like a jerk. He's also brought his dinner onstage with him, which is pretty rude. Don't get me started on this tentacle monster, who does not actually appear in the book proper. And thank god for that~

So our protagonist today is Mike McGraw. His mom runs an advertising firm, and his stepdad is a science-fiction author. Mike, however, is your typical teen, bored during the summer. His stepdad suggests he get a job, and furthermore encourages the job to be at his mom's workplace. Mike's actually into it, but his mom needs to be talked into it, so Mike excuses himself to the basement to bring up more drinks. In the basement, Mike is suddenly attacked. But it's okay, it's just his best friend, the unlikely-named Kevver Smith. Mike and Kevver have been friends since early childhood, and even share the same birthday. Kevver's also one up on Mike on their prank war now. Oh boy, just wait until Youtube happens, guys.

The boys return from the basement, and Mom has decided to give the boys a shot at being the office gofers. Kevver is included mostly so Mike doesn't get bored. The book skips a bit to get to their first day, where they meet Wendy Moon, the firm's major artist. She's also extremely dramatic, posing on the floor with an "Art is Dead" sign affixed to her chest. See, their current client wants a very boring design, and Wendy objects because, like, why do you even hire a graphic designer if you're not going to take their suggestions? Also working at the firm is Pete, who is the muscle, I guess. The book is unclear on his actual duties. It's not important.

Anyway, time passes and the pair get used to their new job. Everything seems fine until it isn't. Ed the Plumber, the client Wendy was complaining about, has decided to cancel the contract. He's been talked into it by Myrna Smud, a local activist who runs BAM: Billboards Are Monstrous. Get this: she's not against them for, like, aesthetic reasons. If she thought billboards were an eyesore, I could at least understand that. No, it's because she thinks billboards are too creative. They overstimulate children's imaginations and lead to criminal behaviour. And yes, she's serious. So the firm's in a bad mood because a blank billboard is a drain on the company.

The boys' birthday is coming up, and when asked for present ideas, Mike only has one thought in his head: he wants that billboard. It's going unused now, so why not let him do a goof with it? As usual, Stepdad Jeff talks Mom into it. Taking inspiration from Ms. Smud's ranting, Mike and Kevver collaborate with Wendy to design them a monster billboard. After a long brainstorming session, they come up with something not unlike the cover, inviting people to "Enter the Monster of the Year Contest Today!" With the design created, they reproduce it onto panels, and Pete helps them put it up on display. This has been a good third of the book already, which might be even slower pace than some Goosebumps books~

Fortunately, things do start to kick off now. With the billboard up, people begin to wonder who set it up. They contact the firm, and since the boys aren't trying to keep it a secret, they cop to it immediately. This gets them an invite to be on the radio with their favourite early morning DJ, Skip Toomaloo. And as unlikely a name as that is, you could get away with thinking it's just a radio persona. But no, when they actually go on the show, turns out Skip has a daughter named Lulu. Let me repeat that for you: Lulu Toomaloo. Saddled with a name like this, is it any wonder little Lulu turned into kind of a complete brat, planning revenge on her father at every waking moment? Worse yet, she's also a walking fat joke, since her wrath can be bought off with food. It was still the '80s, and that's what we did with fat characters. Seriously, though, nearly all her lines are her announcing she's hungry. There's probably a reason why this isn't one of Bruce Coville's more beloved books~

Anyway, the real meat of the story starts shortly after they find a cloud of bats conspicuously hanging around the billboard. A day or two later, they start to receive telegrams from Transylvania. Someone's now actively sponsoring the contest, and another someone is coming to enter. After confirming that Transylvania is, in fact, a real place, they decide to humour whoever sent the telegram, just in case it turns out to be true. They head to the airport at the stated time, though the flight ends up delayed, coming in at midnight. How appropriate~

The man who comes to meet them is a little hunchbacked fellow in a labcoat, who introduces himself as Igor. He's a bit harried, and rushes them all off to the baggage claim as quickly as possible. It's a good thing, too, since the plane crew has just unloaded an enormous crate for him. Before they can move it, though, the crate begins to shake. Suddenly a huge green fist smashes through one surface, threatening to burst out of the crate entirely. Either Igor's got a monster in the box, or his illegal Hulk Hands smuggling job is going poorly. Igor springs ahead and uses a syringe of some kind on the open hole in the crate. You can tell this is the '80s, since he managed to get that on the plane with him. The crate calms down and allows itself to be transported out to their car.

They try taking Igor to a hotel (conspicuously named the Karloff Inn), but Igor throws a fit when they won't take his Transylvanian money. Dude, I know your flight got in late, but you should've visited the currency exchange. That's on you, man. Since the hotel won't take him, they agree to put him and his crate up at their house. Igor insists on taking the crate up to the guest room with him. Fortunately, he's strong enough to make it an easy task. They all go to bed, and when they get up, there's a seven-foot green-skinned fellow at the breakfast table. Sounds like a typical Wednesday to me~

So this green fellow. He's exactly who you think he is, but what to call him? Well, this one is named Sigmund, but the brain is from a fellow named Fred. So he's called Sigmund Fred. Mostly the book just calls him Siggie, so that's what this review will do as well. But I will never, ever, ever, ever make a song about the Siggie. DJ Skip drops by, and he lets Igor and Siggie on his radio show so they can rant about how they were treated at the hotel. So at this point they're still debating how much of this is real or a publicity stunt. Even Mike's not sure--at least, until the enormous bat turns up in his room that night.

The bat, of course, quickly turns into a tall, pale man in a neat tuxedo. He introduces himself as "The Count" (and it's always just "the Count"), and assures Mike that he's not here to drink his blood. No, he's looking for hospitality. While Mike goes to clear it with his parents, the Count's coffin is delivered to the house. This is one of the funniest jokes in the whole book, because Stepdad Jeff thinks that vampires are more believable than a delivery service that operates at 3 AM. They set the Count up with a partitioned space in the basement.

At breakfast, it turns out that Siggie/Igor and the Count have a bit of a rivalry. They begin to fight at the breakfast table, both leading up to arguments of whose movies were worse. It only gets interrupted when the doorbell rings and the Creture from the Yucky Lagoon is standing there. We'll just be calling him Goony. Goony's appearance is a bit too convincing for anyone to think it's a costume anymore. (He even confesses they used to put a fake zipper on him for his movies.) And shortly after Goony moves in, someone else comes to the door. He's a perfectly ordinary-looking man, except for his large unibrow. After a comment from Igor, Mike realises he must be a werewolf. Where wolf? Here wolf.

The Mummy shows up overnight and off-screen, and Quasimodo (or "the Quaz" as the book decides to nickname him) also joins them further in the day. Skip invites the group out to dinner at a semi-formal restaurant called Chez Stadium. I see what you did there, Bruce. Anyway, as the group makes a toast to Mike and Kevver for hosting and judging the contest, and that's when Mike suddenly realises he's in deep shit. He's got to pick one of these monsters to make happy--and make the rest of them very angry. Mike tries to steer the conversation to their movies instead. This turns out to be a very bad idea.

Goony is a very sensitive sort and begins crying when teased at how bad his movies are (it's sadly true, one of them was even on Mystery Science Theater). This starts a long discussion and argument. The argument quickly turns physical, with all of the monsters rough-housing and throwing food. And of course, Myrna Smud is also at the restaurant, and she gets a faceful of it. Eventually, the police come and break it up. By the next day, Myrna has changed her BAM! campaign from "Billboards Are Monstrous" to "Ban All Monsters". Wasn't that a Godzilla film?

Hey, speaking of Godzilla, the doorbell rings again and delivers another package to Mike. Inside this one is a miniature, fire-breathing Tyrannosaurus. This is Gadzinga, star of those Japanese monster movies. Everyone knows they use miniatures in those films, right? Gadzinga talks very roughly, but fortunately not anything I would mark as stereotypical or racist. More of a Joey Wheeler Brooklyn accent, really. Which is... weird, but not questionable. They also make mention of a masked phantom in this scene, which is I think the only time it's mentioned. Anyway, to bolster their reputation, they decide to put in some appearances at the local schools.

This goes about as well as you're expecting. Actually, most of it goes pretty good. The Mummy talks to the history classes, Goony sits in on biology, and so forth. But then suddenly, all hell breaks loose. One classroom has cornered Igor, and he's not even a participant in the contest. He's more like Siggie's manager. Nevertheless, the kids are gonzo for Igor, mobbing him like a rockstar and demanding he sign stuff. I dunno, as a kid, I'd've gone for the Count myself. They manage to extricate him from the action, but the news crew catches it on film, leading Myrna Smud to talk more about "corrupting the youth" and "overstimulating the imagination".

And yet, it's finally time for the day of the contest. And of course, on the way there, there's a minor riot by Myrna Smud and her BAM squad. Lulu Toomaloo (who has been a major secondary character throughout, just not interesting enough to mention) actually grabs a megaphone and begins her own counter-protest. Essentially you have two sides shouting "we love monsters" or "ban all monsters" at each other. Eventually it boils over, and only ends up resolved when Kevver whips out their finale show-stopper: a mechanical flag that pops up and plays "The Star-Spangled Banner". Everyone's patriotism is stirred and resolves the issue. Nowadays, you'd think that'd only make things worse~

And now Mike has to make a decision. Struck with sudden inspiration, Mike begins a long speech about what it means to be a monster and how he's gotten to know each of these monsters and understand them over the course of the contest. But there's only one person present tonight to really exemplify what it means to be a monster, to have that ugliness inside and out. And that person is... Myrna Smud! Yes, who else is deserving enough of the title of Monster of the Year than someone who calls to ban a group of people from public appearances and declare they're ruining the children's minds. The other monsters look taken aback, but amusingly give their approval after a moment.

The book wraps up pretty quickly from there. Everyone decides not to sue each other. The monsters depart, keeping in touch with Mike and Kevver by mail. Turns out the whole contest did get them some publicity, and they're pulling in some new endorsement deals. Okay, boys, but if anyone tries to talk you into a "Dark Universe" series of movies, turn them down. It won't end well, I assure you. And the monsters themselves had so much fun tha they're willing to get together for a convention again each year. So watch out, because you never know if they'll host it in your town next~

This book is, honestly, pretty good. It’s one of Bruce Coville’s sillier works, which might also come from being one of his earlier works as well. And if you get down to it, it’s ultimately a story about treating folks with respect. It’s pretty much what all the monsters wanted, and why Myrna ended up worse than the lot of them. You could even argue Lulu fits a bit into that, in that no one likes her because she’s a terrible brat. I gave a very short summary of each scene because honestly it’s mostly a lot of back-and-forth dialogue, and that might be worth reading on your own~

And this Halloween, may you also open your home to the monsters that mean the most to you~

#reviews #Monster of the Year #Bruce Coville #Taiblog #Halloween

2 notes · View notes

ladyrussellsprouts · 4 years ago

Text

Prologue To A Rivalry I

A Faulty Lock

Our hero and heroine learn the importance of locking doors when sharing living spaces in the ranch house at First & Co.

Kylo Ren had very few things to be thankful about in his life. However, the silence that greeted him in that moment easily topped the list. His day had been filled with the sounds of urgent demands, annoying questions and broken machinery. He didn’t need to come home to more false pleasantries in the bunkhouse at First & Co.

Thankfully, most of the inhabitants avoided him but there were a few people who were still trying to engage in friendly banter. Kylo wasn’t here to make friends. He lived here because it was a condition under his contract with Order & Co. He was aware that it had been a ploy to keep eyes on him but it had been too amusing to watch Armitage Hux squirm at offering free housing.

Generosity was a word unfamiliar to Hux and his wife Phasma. The couple governed the farmlands at Order & Co. and the bunkhouses on the First & Co. properties with an iron fist. Those who could not abide by their rules were immediately thrown out and had to walk to town for accommodations.

His boss could be a right bastard at times. Today had been one of those days where covering his ass had been more important than the safety of his workers. Kylo did not stand for that sort of bullshit and had said as much to the man’s face. In retaliation, Hux had insisted that Kylo’s passion for the safety of the workers should translate into personally investigating the tractor explosions within the warehouse.

The ginger’s little mocking voice still circled Kylo’s mind as he slid off his muddy boots. Glancing at his wristwatch, he exhaled tiredly when the time glared 1:33 AM in neon green. The climb up the stairs and toward his assigned room was slow and treacherous. Awake since the crack of dawn, he wasn’t sure how he was still able to function.

Flicking on the lights in his room, he assessed the space to make sure DJ, the live-in hacker, hadn't made off with his belongings. He stared longingly at the neatly made bed in the corner contemplating the necessity of a shower this late at night. The grime under his nails and the stench from his overalls mocked him silently. Sweat and dirt soaked through his plaid button up and stuck to him like a second skin.

Huffing, Kylo rummaged around his closet for a clean towel. His parents hadn’t been around to teach him much but they had on more than one occasion mentioned the importance of cleanliness.

---

Rey rolled across her bed again, splaying her legs trying to cool down. For most of the night, she had flipped her pillow over hoping that one side would be cooler than the other. It didn’t last long but she was running out of options.

Given the temporary lack of screen, her window was opened as wide as she dared. She wasn’t about to wake up with insect companions in her room or God forbid, an animal companion. The window situation didn’t seem to matter though. The air was still and muggy outside. It was wishful thinking for a cool midnight breeze.

Rey cursed the stinginess of her landlady. Phasma only complied with requests outside of the housing contract when it suited her. The unanticipated heat wave in their county did not suit her so the AC would remain off until the designated Summer months. The importance of replacing Rey’s broken window screen had also fallen to the wayside as new people had moved into the bunkhouse. First, the awkward radar technician had moved in at the beginning of the month and now it was the stoic farm hand that Phasma’s husband had recently hired. The latter had caused the most gossip within the bunkhouse.

Kyle Ron had not made an effort to meet the other people living in the bunkhouse and people had noticed. Everyone found him to be strange and standoffish, often answering questions with sarcasm or unnecessarily rude replies. She avoided him as best she could after hearing the horrifying stories from DJ and Randy but she found his use of two names very strange. Not simply Kyle or Ron but Kyle Ron. What had his parents been thinking? That name did not match the man at all.

Rey shimmied out of her shorts and tossed it toward her laundry basket hoping the partial nudity would make some kind of difference. Groggy, she begged for the sweet relief of sleep. She had been awake since the crack of dawn finishing the decorations for the final batch of cupcakes at the bakery. Her neck, back and feet still throbbed at the memory of swirling buttercream frosting across cupcakes in the same position for hours. Her muscles begged for rest and recuperation but her mind would not cooperate. It was so hot!

At the end of her rope, Rey stumbled out of bed and grabbed the towel hanging on her closet door. She had run out of ideas but she was sure that a cool shower would be her only option to cool down tonight.

---

There was something infinitely soothing about standing under a spray of warm water. His eyes were fixated on the shower drain. The water had pooled in a disgusting brown but had cleared slowly the longer he stood under the shower spray. He felt remade, renewed. He felt like a new man.

Kylo was probably losing his mind from the exhaustion. Who knew that a tired Kylo Ren could be so spiritual? On a sigh, he grasped the shampoo bottle almost dropping the stupid thing. Soaping the thick strands of his hair, he almost groaned as he massaged a particularly pleasurable spot on his scalp. He was passing a bar of soap from one shoulder to another when he heard a distinctly female gasp behind him. Reflexively, he turned.

In his state, Kylo Ren was not sure how to interpret what was in front of him.

Through the clear glass of the shower, he saw a woman in nothing more than a short top and undies standing at the bathroom door. A pale yellow towel lay at her feet as if it had fallen from her slack hands. Rumpled light brown locks swirled around her shoulders while hazel eyes widened in surprise.

He was surprised to see her eyes dip slowly down his body but he found himself doing the same thing. Her top was a thin silky affair that did nothing to hide the outline of protruding nipples. One strap hung loosely from a smooth shoulder adding to her rumpled appearance. White cotton undies encased curved hips that led toward long, toned legs and dainty feet. Half of a working brain cell wondered what those legs would feel like wrapped around his waist.

In the next moment, the hot water shut off, dosing him in ice water as if to punish him for the uncleanliness of his thoughts. The shout that came out of his mouth was inhuman as he tried to move out of the shower spray.

---

Rey snapped out of the spell as the man before her made the most jarring sound while jerking oddly to the side of the glass cage. Self-preservation had her twisting her body around and power walking toward the safety of her room.

Randy stepped out into the hallway.

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I saw nothing!” Rey replied a bit too forcefully.

His eyes widened a fraction before confusion settled in. He turned toward her looking as if he would ask more questions but Rey powered past him.

Slamming her door shut, Rey immediately locked the door and leaned against the wooden frame. She held her breath as male voices murmured in the hallway before doors were shut quietly. The sounds of the shower continued. Scanning her room as if it had answers, she stewed in the silence trying to process what had just happened.

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her hands over her face in embarrassment. The darkness enhanced the images of a broad muscled body twisting as rivets of water trailed down thick thighs.

Rey groaned into her palms before stepping toward her bed. This is what she got for being distracted and sleepy. She had not asked herself why the lights were already on beneath the bathroom door or why the shower was running inside. She had just opened the door.

In truth, she had stared uncomprehendingly at shifting shoulder blades and tight gluteal muscles a little longer than necessary before she realized what was happening. The sharp gasp had been involuntary. As Kyle Ron had turned around, she had gotten an eye full on bulging biceps, a broad chest and a shredded six pack. Oh, she was a terrible person because she had looked. She had looked!

Traitorous eyes had followed the drops of water leading between two sculpted thighs and stared. Rey made a noise, flopping onto the bed with a new wave of notification. Sleep forgotten, she buried her face in a pillow not knowing what to do with herself.

The sudden silence of water pipes shook her out of her mental scuffle. The shower was no longer running. A lead weight dropped into her stomach as the sound of what could only be the bathroom door opened. Anxiety over the coming confrontation thrummed in her veins as footsteps drew closer and closer.

The footsteps stopped in front of her door.

Rey wasn’t sure she was breathing as the silence dragged in the darkness. The crickets were silent as they also waited for what would happen next.

Then, the footsteps retreated, heading toward the other side of the hallway. She breathed a sigh of relief but something drew her toward the locked door. Unlocking it slowly, she eased the door open and peaked outside into the hall. It was empty. All the adrenaline left her body in a rush.

She was about to shut the door again when she noticed something on the ground. The towel she had forgotten in the bathroom lay in a neat fold on the ground.

---

Part 2

This story can also be found on AO3 or FanFiction.net

#reylo fanfiction #ladyrussellsprouts #lady russell sprouts

2 notes · View notes

daysiias · 4 years ago

Text

{ zendaya ♔ 24 ♔ she/her } well, well, well if it isn’t daysia collins running around peach hollow. legend has it, they come from tangerine towers and have lived here for six years. if you’re wondering what they’ve been up to, i hear they’re a crisis counselor for a living. they have been known to be quixotic yet nurturing. a word of advice to them, always look over your shoulder. you never know who is watching. { kim ♔ 25 ♔ est ♔ she/her }

yall know me. i’m kim, i play serenity, and i’m one of the admins!! this is my damaged but optimistic baby, daysia. ITS PRONOUNCED LIKE DEJA VU :’) i just created her in november but she so quickly became my favorite muse to write. so buckle up! and pls plot w me. i am fragile and if i don’t get any plots i will hide in a dumpster, where i belong.

TW FOR DEATH, DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, CAR ACCIDENT

here is her pinterest and a spotify playlist if you wanna check those out ~

daysia jade, day, dj, deej – anything goes. she’s 23 and will turn her head to just about anything. she’s a spring baby born march, 1996.

her childhood was pretty good. she and her brother grew up a year apart, and her parents divorced early. early enough that daysia can barely remember a time where the family was hole, and likes it that way.

however, her father did not take the divorce well and turned to drugs – meth to be specific. he only saw the kids on weekends and even then, daysia and marcus absolutely knew what was happening. perhaps they didn’t know his choice of poison, but they knew that it was just that: poison.

he was never abusive and always took care of the kids, even if he was tweaking out of his mind. there were a few instances that were touch and go, like when he forgot to take dinner out of the oven and it caught fire, or when he forgot to change the sheets – little things that added up.

when daysia was 16 and marcus was 15, they were involved in a car accident. her dad was high behind the wheel, lost control of the car, and they hit the guard rail. they went over an embankment and down a short hill before the vehicle came to a complete stop, flipped over. she watched the life drain from her brother’s face, and never got into a car again, up until recently when she started letting @malcolmvramsey drive her places she needed to go. she always tries to give him gas money, but he rarely takes it.

a good deal of resentment built up for her father, but she remained stoic, even when he went to prison for drug charges and the dui he’d racked up that ultimately killed her brother. she didn’t let anyone know that she was hurting, because she numbed it all. she threw herself into her school work and her artwork, painting constantly. melting colors together somehow helped her cope. she could get her emotions out on paper. in fact, that still rings true today. in her bedroom of the apartment she lives in, she has covered one of the walls in canvas and paints over and over.

in an effort to start life over, daysia left detroit when she graduated high school. she transferred to peach hollow where she went to winchester university, not wanting a lot of attention. this is where she really came to life.

daysia was able to push michigan to the back of her mind entirely, because peach hollow had so much to offer. the people were better. the music was better. the parties were better. the education was better. there wasn’t a single thing she missed from home aside from her mother, who she kept in regular contact with and still does. they’re always texting and facetime before bed every night.

she came alive. college changed her. she was studying a subject that interested her and meeting people who didn’t have to know about her past. she did, and does everything to keep michigan her dirty little secret. she liked the party scene, but only drank or smoked weed. she refuses to touch anything that might turn her into her father. she was even hired on as a crisis counselor for a local hotline, contractual to her graduation.

in the past month, daysia has plummeted, however. nobody would ever be able to tell. she is the queen of poker face, an absolute delight to be around. she can be a little aloof, and is constantly stoned, but it’s how she gets through the day. she is an absolute goof, loves to crack jokes and make people laugh. she loves to laugh herself. these are all traits that show and cover the inner turmoil constantly trying to bubble to the surface.

about three weeks ago, daysia received word that her father passed away in jail. he overdosed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel. so she didn’t. she did, however, stop doing school work and started drinking more. she’s mere days from flunking out of school and losing her job. but nobody knows, because she acts like she doesn’t know either.

all in all, she’s doing a lot of self sabotage but covering it up with every ounce of grace she has.

as for her personality and relationships, daysia excels. she is nurturing, so when a friend, or even a stranger is hurting, she tends to go to their side and comfort them. as long as she can make them laugh, then everything will be okay. she makes friends pretty easily, and keeps them for the most part. she is fiercely loyal and will absolutely scrap to defend her loved ones.

she loves love. there is no gender she isn’t curious about and absolutely loves romance, though she also tries to hide that. her walls are ten feet tall. she’s in to hook ups, flings, and polyamory. she’s very open in that sense!!

FUN FACTS

she has an english bull dog named frank!! he is her pride and joy. she dresses him up in outfits, has regular photo shoots with him and loves going to the dog park. he isn’t legally an emotional support animal, but that’s definitely what he is to her. if he doesn’t like you, she won’t either tbh

she has this lil purple pen looking thing that is always on her. it’s her weed vape and she will hit it anywhere. her dumb head is always in the mfing clouds

she has a spotify family plan that is currently only her, mac, and dom and she will absolutely invite anyone she meets bc spotify premium is something everyone should enjoy

wears a lot of graphic tees and jeans, kinda a tom boy. doesn’t love dressing up but will occasionally. also doesn’t rly like make up but DOES know how to beat her face

1000% unable to be alone for like any period of time?? like if she gets off work and no one is in her apartment she just leaves. she goes next door to mac, goes to the peach pit, anywhere she can socialize. being left to her own thoughts will always turn out poorly.

really loves poetry. cannot write it to save her life, but loves going to slam readings or checking out poetry books from the library. her adhd brain can’t handle novels – poetry is just the right length to keep her attention and dig into her soul.

oh yeah, she’s got some pretty intense untreated adhd lol

OK SO WANTED CONNECTIONS IF UR STILL HERE LMAO

ex-roommate: something happened between daysia and this person, whether it was a relationship gone wrong, a friendship with tension, or just the other person being a damn slob – and daysia removed them from the house and moved someone new in. they are probably on shitty terms.

roomate(s): ^^ the forementioned current roommate or two!! i would like her to be veeeery close to whoever lives here. they have to be ok with her dog, her weed, and how mf needy she is.

current flings: a few people are probably on her list of suitors right now. people she spends time with romantically, but hasn’t committed to. she absolutely cannot be alone, at any point… ever! so, she has someone with her at all times. m/f/nb, all good.

party friends: this one is pretty self explanatory!! these are friends that daysia may or may not talk to outside of a party, but will always cling to at one.

close friends: she lets very few people all the way in, but those that make it are generally taken care of by day. she makes sure that they are as comfortable with life as possible and spends a lot of time with them

exes: as daysia is a ticking time bomb, there have been many people she’s blown off. whether they once hooked up, were together, or what have you, daysia has a lot of exes. she never means to hurt anyone. it just sort of happens and she has accepted it.

#peaches:intro #i'm back lmao

4 notes · View notes

thestarrynightgazer · 6 years ago

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING!

It's already april first sooo yeah, I and @galfridus1 wrote something! It was an honor to have my first collab with you!

Although Ellie did all the job...

King was crying. Well, of course he was not really crying, he told himself forcefully. He had made a New Year’s resolution after all. No he was most definitely not crying; just… quietly sobbing a bit.

He looked around miserably at the barren shed he was closeted in: industrial concrete walls, a few desolate tools scattered untidily on a workbench, a cork board with a few colourful pins sticking the odd scrap of faded newspaper to its mottled brown surface. It smelled of dust, and King could not suppress a sneeze, clouds of the stuff floating before him in the sparkling air. The shed mercifully had a small window, enough to cast his surroundings in a golden light, though the day would not last for long. His bag was gone, and with it his phone and any hope that he could raise the alarm, or pinpoint his location.

He was not even tied up. The man who had grabbed him from the side of the road as he was on his way home - tall, masked, and lanky with surprising large hands - had just picked him up with no trouble at all. He had hoisted King over his shoulder and run down the street with a cackling laugh before throwing him unceremoniously into a dirty white van. Evidently this kidnapper had rather got the measure of him: King was physically weak, not the type to break out of a concrete shed with his bare hands.

King cursed to himself. This was ridiculous. He had thought the worst thing that ever could have happened to him was when Meliodas had 'accidentally' pulled his shorts down during soccer practice. But no. This was worse. He should have listened to Helbram. His boyfriend had pointedly said only the other day that King needed to go to the gym, to develop some muscle, to stop being so weak that his only defensive move was a limp sort of slap. Unfortunately, he hadn’t listened to Helbram and, in that moment, he regretted heartily that he was such a little sloth.

And part of him was panicking, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. He wasn't some son of millionaire so there was no way this was kidnap for ransom. What if he was to be dissected and all his organs sold on the black market, his kidney, his lungs, his heart and who knew what more? What if they wanted to sell him? The newspapers had been full of stories about modern day slavery… He shook his head at this, refusing to entertain the thought, forcing himself to gain control of his emotions. What was it the man had said after he deposited King in this dirty little outpost? Something about how if he wanted to get out he had to look around?

Well, King did not want to go out like this. He wanted to to die on his bed in old age, married to his cute, mischievous, wonderful boyfriend with several adopted kids and grandkids if possible. He wanted to talk to Helbram one last time, tell him he loved him, tell him he adored him. He wanted to apologize to his sister, tell her he loved her too and to speak to Diane. She was getting married to Howzer! She would definitely cancel her wedding if he went missing…

With a deep exhale that blew out his cheeks, King shook his head once more. Look around? At what? His eyes roamed over the dingy room. The one window was set too high in the wall and was a small, flat affair, far too tiny for even him to squeeze through. The tools scattered about were of no use: a spanner, a small handful of bolts, and a spirit level. Nothing he could use to pick a lock. With a sudden rush of inspiration King ran to the door, twisting the handle and tugging with all his might. But yes it was locked, very thoroughly so. With a frustrated cry, King dropped his hand, spinning on his heels, his eyes alighting on a flash of metal in the wall as he did so.

A safe? There was a safe! There had to be something in there that would help. King shuffled over to the metal box and squinted at it; it was a cheap-looking affair with a simple punch keypad. Experimentally, King typed in some zeros, the display of red numbers beeping quietly after he had pressed the button four times. So, a four digit code was required. King sighed, quickly doing some sums in his head. To try every possible combination would take him more than eight hours.

It was then he decided to look at the cork board. On it were fastened several newspaper articles, all of them reporting errant nonsense. One described how spaghetti had been discovered growing on trees in Switzerland of all places; then there was something about the state of Alabama changing the value of pi to a “more godly” round three point zero; and finally an article about how a man had achieved the power of flight using only the expired breath from his lungs. The last two King was unfamiliar with, but the first story he recognised as one of the most successful April Fool’s Day spoofs which had yet been published in the mainstream media.

King started, his eyes widening as he once more looked back at the board. All of the articles were dated April first, and it was as if a light had been turned on in his brain. That was today’s date! The scare of the kidnap had quite made him forget that today was in fact his own birthday, and that he had been upset with Helbram for failing to even acknowledged the date that morning, even though King had coughed pointedly and looked hard at the calendar.

With trembling fingers, King punched 0104 into the safe, his breath leaving his lungs in a huge puff when the small door swung open. Inside was a silver key, and he grasped at it quickly, his eyes darting from side to side as his muscles tensed involuntarily. He took several deep breaths. The room was empty. No one was going to rob him of his prize.

The key turned in the lock easily, and King frowned in puzzlement. The mechanism was almost too smooth, as if the lock had recently been oiled. King took a careful sniff as he withdrew the key, the smell of the lubricant confirming his suspicions. This was a very strange sort of kidnap, he thought as he carefully, tentatively opened the door, the sudden influx of light making him shield his eyes against the glare. It was almost as if whoever had locked him in here had no intention of keeping him prisoner, but just wanted him out of the way for an hour or so…

“SURPRISE!” The huge yell was like a bark of white noise and King almost jumped out of his skin. Instinctively, he reached out in an effort to clutch at his soft, comfort cushion, before turning red in the face as his hand met the air. Of course, he did not carry that thing around any more. He had not in fact done so since he was a small boy. The blush in his cheeks grew in intensity and King could feel a pressure building behind his nose, his head throbbing as the nosebleed threatened to spill down his face.

“Happy Birthday!” a familiar voice called and, all at once, the world righted itself. King took several calming breaths as he forced himself to take in the scene. There was Elaine, smiling broadly, Ban standing beside her with a leer on his face; Diane and Howzer, standing together, the man’s arms wrapped around the petite dancer’s trim waist as she laid her head back into his shoulder. Elizabeth was off to the side, her long silver hair swaying as she busily fussed with something on the large table which stood in the middle of what King now recognised to be Meliodas’s enormous garden, its trim lawn and neat, manicured hedges set around a gravel driveway. The shed itself was decorated with bunting in cheerful greens and yellows, King’s favourite colours, for they reminded him of spring.

The tinkling laugh attracted his attention. “It took you long enough to get out of there! We’ve been waiting an age!” King practically floated towards Helbram, collapsing into his arms as the other grinned brightly. “And, look, you really need to do as I say and go to the gym. Ban said he just picked you up! Is that true?”

“It wasn’t like that at all,” King spluttered, his voice drowned out by Ban’s cackling laughter.

“He did try to slap me~” the tall man conceded.

King closed his eyes, anticipating more of a teasing until Elaine’s soft voice floated over the air. “It is my brother’s birthday,” she chastised, an edge to her tone, and both Ban and Helbram fell silent in an instant.

“And there’s cake!” a cheerful voice called and they all swung around to see Meliodas bounding across the drive, his feet crunching on the small stones as he moved. In his hands was the most enormous confection; a hugh, multi-tiered cake covered in crystal white icing and heaped with sugared pansies and violets. There was so much of it King stared and stared; there was no way the eight of them could possible get through it all between them.

“Some more people are coming later,” Meliodas explained in response to King’s questioning look. “Everyone’s coming, even Gowther. I hired a DJ. It’s going to be great!”

King felt his throat squeeze shut, his cheeks still flaming red as he looked round at his friends. His heart was still racing, his body still alive with adrenaline but he could feel himself beginning to relax. Helbram’s arms were still round him, and he leaned into his touch, before the pair broke apart and King took a few, hesitant steps towards the table as Meliodas placed the cake on the chequered white and red cloth. King looked at it once more, taking another step closer; it really was a work of art.

“Happy birthday, mate!” Howzer said heartily and King felt a firm slap across his shoulders. He stumbled, his arms circling in the air as he tried to regain his balance but to no avail. He heard Diane gasp, and felt someone grab the back of his coat, but the action was just a little too late. King could not even squeak, could do nothing at all as he pitched face first into the huge cake, grimacing as his head was surrounded by cream and icing and crumb.

It was silent. King knew his hearing was muffled by cake but he could still tell the others were making absolutely no sound. He pushed against the table, dislodging his head from the mess, swiping at his eyes to clear them of cream. The cake was a write-off, and King could see that his clothes were coated in mashed up food, and he knew that his hair must also be plastered with the stuff. He did not dare look up, even when Diane started yelling at Howzer, her usually sweet voice shrill with her ire. “I didn’t mean it!” her fiancé protested, as Elizabeth made soothing noises, evidently trying to smooth over the fight.

King felt an arm loop round his shoulders. “Come on,” Helbram whispered into his ear as he led King carefully towards the large, sprawling house. “It’s not matter. We’ll get you cleaned up. Mel will let you borrow some clothes, or I can go back and get some of yours if you want. It’ll all be okay.”

“Why am I so weak?” King asked bitterly. He was rigid in Helbram’s gentle embrace, his hands curled into fists at his side. “I hate it…”

“You’re not weak,” Helbram said comfortingly, and King felt their steps slow, before Helbram turned him in his arms. Before he knew what was happening their lips were pressed together. The kiss was slow, deliberate, possessive and full of love, and King could feel his pulse beginning to calm.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know,” Helbram said firmly and King was surprised to see his boyfriend looking so serious. Helbram was always the playful one, the light-hearted joker, the man who brightened every day. He was never serious, something King sometimes found frustrating, so it took him aback to hear the sombre tone now.

Helbram continued, “You always stand up for everyone, you protect others however hard it is. That’s why I love you. Now, let’s get inside.” With a small smile, Helbram once more guided King towards the house, the sounds of their friends arguing fading as they made their way inside.

“I love you, too,” King said in a rush. He expected to splutter with the admission, to turn bright red as usual, but he found the words came easily and without embarrassment. “I really love you, even if you did have me locked in a shed,” he said more confidently. Their eyes met, and King allowed himself a small smile to see Helbram looking so happy, his slightly pointed face alight with his grin and his light-green eyes shining.

“That would have been so much more poetic if you weren’t covered in goo. Come on, there must be a shower somewhere in this mansion.” Helbram took hold of King’s hand. “And Happy Birthday,” he said more quietly as they leaned against one another, their fingers lacing tight together as they went to explore the house.

#nnt #sds #kingbram #king #helbram

41 notes · View notes

joemuggs · 6 years ago

Text

PERCEPTION OF DOORS

Was reminded by a conversation yesterday about the art of the club door person, and dug this out, which I wrote for the Amsterdam Dance Event annual back in 2014.

---

If you want a clear view of how clubland operates, why not ask its guardians? The men and women who stand at the doors – whether to take money, pick and choose who gets in, or act as enforcers of rules – are the first and last people clubbers will see in their night out, and are uniquely placed to assess what makes the clubbers themselves tick. They are the interface between club, clubber and promoter, and able to provide a (more-or-less) sober overview of what goes on. But frequently, too, they are the filter: they are the one person more than anyone whom by their choices, defines the nature of the crowd on a given night. As such, they are not just list-tickers, cash-till operators or hired muscle, but are a vital cog in the club's cultural machine, a part of the club's personality. And plenty of them are as big a music lovers as the promoters or DJs too. So from London to New York, Glasgow to Pretoria to L.A., we present the past, present and future of these essential sentinels and unsung heroes of the night.

BIG FRANK

Big Frank, aka Faafaga Samuelu, is a true Los Angeles legend. The imposing Samoan-American was a school friend of underground hip hop DJ/producer Kevin “Daddy Kev” Moo, and they threw parties together from Junior High onwards (“I was the muscle, he was the brain,” laughs Frank; “a perfect combination”). But Frank was also a hardcore gangbanger in his late 1980s / early 90s adolescence: “I remember him showing me a sawed-off shotgun in 8th grade while we were riding the bus to school,” says Kev, nonchalantly. Frank served serious jail time in the late 90s, but when he came out, Kev was there, happy to team up again.

Kev founded the legendary Low End Theory – hub of the psychedelic, electronic “L.A. beat scene” that spawned artists like Flying Lotus, Gaslamp Killer and co – in 2006, but by 2011 it had become so popular, hosting the likes of Thom York and Erykah Badu, that their host venue's bouncers were shaking down clubbers for bribes to get in. This was the moment when Frank's demeanour, reputation and willingness to turn up with an AR-15 assault rifle came into their own, and perhaps unsurprisingly the previous security stepped aside without any trouble to make way for him to take over on LET's Wednesday nights.

Since then, LET's reputation as a friendly spot has only grown. “Being the familiar face of the club,” says Frank, “is great fun and oftentimes just lots of funny. And if you're coming to us, you'll be more comfortable if you feel like you know the guy at the door – and a cool farewell at the end of the night helps as well!” Now in his 40s, he is happy to be a cool head, mainly in the background: “I have different reasons for being in the scene still,” he says; “What's still there is the love for music, but now my desire to be in the crowd is gone. The times of getting fucked up and bumping rap at a back yard party is long gone. What makes me happy, though, is the presence of the forty-somethings and even older folks that attend our club. It helps me feel like our push to progress the music is appreciated. As if all this time in the scene produced something that my generation can be proud of – not just slangin' and gang bangin'.”

In South Africa, house music means more to people than almost anywhere else on earth. And Tebogo “JR” Modiba knows this more than most – his laid-back House 22 parties in Pretoria are an oasis of sophistication and unity in a society still riven with violence and harsh divisions. He ended up working the door there by default: “House 22 started an purely by-invite-only underground deep house joint,” he explains; “so as the founder, I had to work the door in order to overlook the invitations myself. Over time, we have opened up to the general public, but we still keep a close eye on disruptive elements who might not understand and appreciate the underground deep house culture.”

Like all the best doormen, though, he's not just there to filter people out. “The door is the most important part of the business,” he insists. “That's where punters, especially first timers, should start experiencing what the atmosphere of the club is like. All of that depends on how the doorman welcomes them and treat them.” In fact, his biggest problems are cops (“those fellas have serious anger issues, especially when they see people having fun while they are working – and they're the biggest tax collectors too, [taking money] to allow you to operate without interrupting your business with constant inspections, or to protect your patrons from being harassed”) and the weather. One time the mainly-outdoor House 22 venue was hit by tennis ball-sized hailstones, causing a near stampede for cover, which JR was able to only just keep from becoming mass panic.

All his efforts lead to a club where passion for music rules – and so it should, when JR's own love for house still drives everything. At the drop of a hat, he will reel off favourite DJs' names– Vinny Da Vinci, Christos, Glen Lewis, Jimpster, Atjazz, Ralf Gum, Andre Lodemann, Andy Compton & The Rurals, Lars Behrenroth, and Louie Vega – and those of beloved festivals that inspire him like Sónar, ADE and Southport Weekender. And you just know there's no bullshit when he says: “I don't think I am ready to live without my house music, the club life and the people I have met and we became one house music family. Not any time soon.”

JAY CLOTH

London gay scene institution Duckie is more than just a club – as “Purveyors of Progressive Working Class Entertainment”, its team have created a multi-headed beast with art events, talks and exhibitions worldwide. But Duckie's soul resides in its bacchanals every Saturday night at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern, still presided over by the same team that founded it 19 years ago: producer Simon Casson, radically eclectic DJ duo The London Readers Wifes, compere Amy Lamé and “box office artistes” Father Cloth and Jay Cloth. Jay is extraordinarily proud to be on the door - “Duckie is unlike any other London Club and IS gay culture to me,” he says, though cites inspiration from a motley lineage of misfit clubs past like The Bell, Marvellous, Daisy Chain, Lippy and anything involving cabaret monster David Hoyle (née The Divine David).

“I am very proud that Duckie is a very friendly club,” says Jay, “and the team of 'Cloths' that work the door set the tone by being as welcoming as possible to all.” As anyone who's been to the club knows, though, they may be welcoming, but you have to step up to the mark and contribute to the wild energy. Jay will turn away “stag and hen parties, anyone too obviously drunk, too obviously high, anyone rude, anyone wearing fur” and only welcome celebrity guests “as long as they are willing to pay the same as everyone else – we are very egalitarian.” “What makes me really happy,” he says, “is when the mix of people is so extreme I wouldn't want to be anywhere else on earth.” His only fear is that “around 1am some nights when the Wifes announce they are about to play their favourite record of all time, I worry the floor might give in!”

ANGELO FABARA

Anyone who thinks that garish clubwear and superstar DJ culture started with EDM should look back to early 90s New York – which truly was the best of times, and the worst of times. Clubbing was a performance then, with the self-proclaimed Club Kids creating atmospheres so decadent and sights so eye-popping that it could feel like the last days of Rome. The Limelight was the heart of all of this, and bringing some kind of order to the chaos was Angelo Fabara. Angelo was an out-of-towner, drawn as a teenager to NYC's clubs like moth to flame by the “idea of community foremost, but then the escapism it offers to young people to safely experiment with.”

He was soon part of that community. In high school he went to the Limelight every weekend, but after getting into NYU, this quickly switched to going nightly. As a face on the scene, he says, “eventually was asked to promote some nights which led to my being hired as a junior door / guestlist person under the guidance of the more veteran door people at the Limelight. I worked there for about a year and a half after which I worked at Twilo for another year at the height of rave / club music coming to NYC.” New York can be a scary city, and Angelo had to learn fast how to turn away the crazies who might later follow or lay in wait for someone who had offended them: “I worked out I needed to give them a bigger reason they couldn't come in,” he says, “like 'the venue's at capacity', rather than quipping slights at their character which I may have done when I first started.”

As a doorman, though, he didn't just have to keep the badasses out: he had to help create atmosphere. “I let in anyone I knew was a great dancer,” he says, “or had a great look: people who made the dancefloor flourish or were nice eye candy. You also had to educate people who came to the clubs to make an effort because everyone else was taking the time to look impeccably chic or coming up with a look that just added to the design and visual language of the scene at that time. If you were a suit, I wouldn't let you in, if you came as a group of guys I wouldn't let you in, if you didn't look the part you would have a harder time at the door. Much later in life, I compare it to Walt Disney who always started his stories off by making his characters literally step through a door into a fantasy world, transported to another place. I wanted to be that person that showed you through that door.”

The scene famously turned bad. “A lot of people died from drugs,” recalls Angelo sadly. “Heroin became big in the 90s, and Michael Alig murdered his club kid friend Angel, which ended the reign of Peter Gatien's clubs like USA, Palladium, Limelight, Tunnel which were the best clubs in NYC history, places with a creativity you just don't see nowadays.” Angelo stepped away from the scene, moving into culture reporting with Microsoft's 'Sidewalk' site – but he never lost his love for what had first inspired him as a kid. “I still think about how easily I made friends on the dancefloor and how so many of us are still friends today 22 years later.”

BOB WONG

Glasgow is one of the most beloved, yet notorious, clubbing centres of the world, known for the utter lunacy, in both the good and bad senses, of its crowds. So it's nice to know that its scene has a calm centre in the affable and unflappable Bob Wong, the head of security (“I prefer 'doorman' or 'steward' but that confuses people, so I usually end up saying 'bouncer',” he laughs) at the Glasgow School Of Art – a venue that has hosted everything from the most manaical techno to the heaviest dub to avant garde noise events.

Bob is a true lover of and participant in Glasgow's underground scene – indeed, in researching this article, his was the first name mentioned by every Glaswegian we spoke to. “Scots know how to party!” he says simply as explanation of why he loves the scene. “You can't beat seeing likeminded people – people of all ages, race, colour, sexuality, social background etc etc etc – switch off from their daily grind of the working week and completely lose themselves, intoxicated with their poison of choice, in the music they love and really go for it on the dancefloor.”

This no-nonsense attitude and affection for the crowds runs through everything he does. “I, and the rest of my team are there to ensure the punters have a great night, and more importantly a safe one: safe from themselves and each other when they inevitably get carried away.” And to do this he insists on a friendly culture: “I hated working with macho 'bouncers',” he continues, “who could only brag about how many fights they'd won or how many girls they've slept with – so when I finally became head steward, I made a point of having only people with a similar mindset to mine on the team, and it makes a difference to everyone.”

Has he ever been scared, surrounded by punters when they “inevitably get carried away”? “You're probably expecting a mad story here,” he smiles, “about some kinda riot or a scenario where I've been stabbed or shot at – but no... if I ever get into a situation where I'm in a fight where my life is being seriously threatened then I can honestly say I'll have failed at my job. My scariest moments have to be the occasions where drunken punters have thought it was a great idea to slide down the banister of the stairs from the cloakroom on the top floor of the Artschool – a 4 level building – and have fallen over the edge and down between the flights of stairs... Thankfully no-one ever fell past the next floor but, all the same, hearing the thud and seeing them hit the floor you automatically assume the worst when they go limp and unresponsive! Thankfully and surprisingly there have never been any fatalities in my time (don't jinx it Bob haha!), just a few fractured vertebrae...”

#clubs #doorpersons #los angeles #new york #club kids #glasgow #ravers #low end theory #gay clubs #hip hop #johannesburg #house music

4 notes · View notes