#glam boys are the hottest
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30 Day Band Challenge
𝑫𝑨𝒀 7 ✯ A picture of your favorite singer
Mom I'm in love with 80s glam boys😩
#80s bands#80s metal#glam metal#glam rock#hard rock#metal#mötley crüe#vince neil#hanoi rocks#michael monroe#cinderella band#cinderella#tom keifer#guns n roses#axl rose#izzy stradlin#izzy stradlin and the juju hounds#jani lane#warrant band#queen band#queen#freddie mercury#bret michaels#poison band#van halen#david lee roth#classic rock#30 day challenge#glam boys are the hottest#dramatic bitch
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Round 8 of The Hottest 80s Band Tournament
Guns N’Roses
Defeated opponents: ZZ Top, Pantera, A-Ha, The Go Go’s, Fleetwood Mac, Mötley Crüe, Hanoi Rocks
Formed in: 1985
Genres: Hard rock
Lineup: Axl Rose- vocals
Slash- lead guitar
Izzy Stradlin- rhythmic guitar
Duff McKagan- bass
Steven Adler- drums
Albums from the 80s:
Appetite for destruction (1987)
G N’ R Lies (1988)
Propaganda: “The sluttiest a man can do is be in the Guns’N Roses’s original lineup”
“Watch this video and tell me slash doesn't have pretty boy babygirl swag”
youtube
“Whoo! Time for more Guns N’ Roses propaganda (and by that I mean an excuse to gush about Steven Adler, one of my favorite drummers/people ever)
First off, look at him. This is, and so cannot stress this enough, one of the cutest people I’ve ever seen. Ever. Look at him! (And also, he’s a drummer so he’s fun-size - he is 5’7 at most and at least some of you reading could pick him up)
And he’s one of the greatest and most fun drummers to ever live. I’ve heard maybe 3 other drummers who are as fun to listen to and who have as good of a feel for matching the actual emotion of a song (harder to explain with drumming, but even though they’re both love songs, wouldn’t do the same solos for Patience and Sweet Child o Mine - it’s the same deal here). The demo for Back Off Bitch runs laps around the full version and half of that is because of him.
Izzy Stradlin himself has said that he gave early Guns N’ Roses their feel and that things got weird and “nothing worked” without him (I swear to god that’s a direct quote). You know how hard it is to get a guitarist or singer to recognize and actually admit that? And he’s never made a bad song or sounded boring, and that’s really rare for 80s-era hard rock drummers. Even Tommy Lee’s had his weird songs and I can’t say the same here.
And some bonus propaganda before I write another five paragraphs”
youtube
Queen
Defeated opponents: Green Day, Earth, Wind & Fire, The Psychedelic Furs, R.E.M., Duran Duran, INXS, Depeche Mode
Formed in: 1970
Genres: rock, glam-rock, hard rock, pop-rock, pop, disco
Lineup: Freddie Mercury- vocals
Brian May- guitar
John Deacon- bass
Roger Taylor- drums
Albums from the 80s:
The Game (1980)
Hot Space (1982)
Flash Gordon (1982)
The Works (1984)
A Kind Of Magic (1986)
The Miracle (1989)
Propaganda: “HAVE YOU SEEEEN THEMMMM???? these men never lost their looks as they aged. smoking hot 20 somethings to smoking hot 40 somethings. in their own words, "we was glam" and "we were all stunning". all four had impeccable style choices 99% of the time, from leather jackets and wraps to monochrome to undone blazers and ties to brightly coloured /everything/. Deacon changed his hair style every few years and even in just tshirts and booty shorts, never missed. Roger had a sleazy mullet and sunglasses for what felt like forever, hot Persian dad, did not miss. Brian forgot how to fully button shirts. bell bottoms. same hair for 50 years. no misses. even after Freddie got sick and started wearing makeup and had to grow a beard to cover up, MAN NEVER FUCKIN MISSED. he was beautiful to the day he died. and thats not even touching on the leather daddy look from the early 80s.king shit. we love wrinkles and laugh lines in this gd house. if they don't sweep I’m blowing this whole website up we was glam”
“a few years back i was obsessed with these guys and i would find it hard to not have a crush on all of them. in the 80s especially Brian was GORGEOUS.. BEAUTIFUL”
Visual propaganda for Guns N’Roses:
Additional propaganda here and here
Visual propaganda for Queen:
#Round 8#the finals#guns n roses#queen#axl rose#slash gnr#slash#saul hudson#izzy stradlin#duff mckagan#steven adler#freddie mercury#brian may#john deacon#roger taylor#the hottest 80s band tournament#the hottest 80s band tourney
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Valentines with the boys|Obey me
This is largely innocent with some suggestive themes at the end of each if you are inclined to imagine them that way. Mainly just some cute ideas I came up with for each of the brothers on how they would treat MC on valentine's day~
Lucifer
100% buy you a sexy red dress and tell you he will pick you up at 8pm "I expect to see you wearing that"
He swings round in his fancy black car with tinted windows and takes you to a real fancy resturant
Most of the evening is spent with him eyeing you up with a glass of red wine swirling in his hands
He takes you back to a glamorous hotel. The room is decorated with heart balloons and rose petals (he totally didn't request this, The brothers had found out what hotel he had booked and wanted to play a prank on him)
He opens the door to the room and freaks out, making a mental note to punish his brothers later for this.
But then looks over at your smiling face. He can't bare to have his pride take a hit, so he pretends this is all planned
Absolutely the hottest night of your life
Mammon
Stumbles into your room early with a mountain of gifts. He wanted to be the first one to give you anything.
Spends the whole day pretending he hates valentine's day
Takes you to the fun fair where you play tonnes of games (hook the devil, shoot the devil etc..) and he wins you the jackpot prize
You kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel as he heard a legend that says whoever you kiss at the top would be lovers for eternity...not that he believes it right?
At the end of the night he gifts you a necklace with his name, just so everyone knows you belong to him
He takes you to a look out spot over the city and you spend the night tangled in each others arms.
Levi
Gets you some very limited edition merch from your fave game
Wants to spend the day recreating his favourite valentine's day event from one of his otome games (but doesn't tell you that's where the ideas came from)
He takes you to the aquarium
Holds you hands and blushes at your excitement at all the cute fishes
Obligatory selfie in the water tunnel, where you kiss him on the cheek and he turns into a stuttering mess
Buys you a sea serpent plush at the gift shop
Both get the bus back, and you lean on his shoulder the whole ride home
Playing video games on his room until you lean over and give him a small kiss
Him not being able to control himself anymore, he rolls over and the rest of the night is a happy blur.
Satan
Absolutely buys you your favourite book and some real nice chocolates
Takes you to the old market side of town for an antique bookstore date
You find a cursed book that lets you go inside and experience the story first hand. Of course it's a fantasy romance book.
You leave the store with a pile of new books to read
Take an evening walk home via the river, bathed in moonlight
Go back to his room where he recites a beautiful handwritten poem
Spend the night romantically embraced before falling asleep among a pile of books.
Asmo
Knocks on your door super early and drags you from your bed to glam you to the nines
You head outside and are greeted with a small horse drawn carriage
You are both leisurely paraded through the park in the carriage as Asmo repeats words of love in your ear "my princess"
Takes you to a private room in a bar in the evening, where you spend the whole night dancing and having fun
Stumbling back to his room at midnight frantically undressing and Asmo peppering kisses all over your body
Pampering session before you fall asleep in his arms and a tangle of bedsheets
Beel
Brings you breakfast in bed - little heart pancakes. Of course he has made too many so you end up sharing them together
Takes you for a nice walk around the city, stopping and trying all the different street food vendors
Sit on a bench whilst he disappears and comes back with a huge sculpted candyfloss on a stick in the shape of a heart
In the evening he takes you to an all you can eat buffet. You finish your third plate whilst Beel is on his 15th. You both stop and laugh at the pile of plates Infront of you
Takes a taxi home where you fall asleep on his shoulder
He carries you to his room and places you on his bed
You wake up around 1am to Beel holding you in his arms and eating some of the chocolates you gave him
You playfully lick the corner of his mouth where a small bit of melted chocolate rested
He rolls over to get a taste of you
Belphie
Had snuck into your room at some point in the nught
Both wake up late, tangled in eachother
You head to a local cafe where he treats you to a late lunch
He takes you to a sweet shop on the way back and buys you a big red heart lollypop
Walk arm in arm through the park and up to the top of the hill to watch the sunset
He kisses you on the way back to the observatory
Build a blanket fort in the observatory and stargaze holding hands
A pillow fight turns hot and steamy before you both fall asleep in a pile of pillows and plushies
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me story#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me beelzebub#obey me asmodeus#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#valentes#obey me belphie
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snippet from my maxiel lesbian au 🩷
Max Verstappen has always liked girls.
From childhood to her teenage years, she knew right away who made her thighs quiver and who only filled her with indifference. She had no doubts, and it was funny to see the forever–cocky Dani Ricciardo hesitate about a topic, even funnier if it was about Maxine.
“Sooo. Maaax. Maxine. Max Emilia. Maxie.”
She barely raised an eyebrow, trying to look unbothered.
Max could absolutely do this, she could act like a fucking normal human being around the hottest woman that graced this earth. Of course, she could, she was Max Verstappen!
“Can I help you, my dear Dani?” She exaggerated her accent a little bit on the dear, and looked up up up from her phone, staring right at Dani’s eyes.
And fuck. Holy fffuck. Dani looked good, as she always did, with her long curly hair in a messy ponytail that showed her undercut and her dark blue sports bra that framed her collarbone beautifully.
Dani looked at Max with those beautiful brown eyes, and her pretty face was flushed. Max asked herself if it was from the gym, and didn’t dare to think it was because of her.
No way, no freaking way Daniela Ricciardo would ever blush because of her. Get your mind outta the gutter, Verstappen. Max plastered a smile, sincere, because it was Dani, and kept looking up up up.
“Well. Maxie, I was wondering– And it’s okay if you don’t want to answer! Please, just. Listen.” She watched as Dani took a deep breath, enjoying how she closed her eyes and readied herself. As if she was getting ready for battle, or a race. “So… Charles said something–”
And oh fucking no. Nope. Max was noping the fuck out of this situation, out of the Red Bull facility, and out of this Earth, if it was even possible. Nope. Anything including Charlotte Leclerc was a big nope, written with veeery red paint, with the most horrid Comic Sans.
She may be her best friend, yeah, and they might hook up from time to time, but. That’s exactly why she knows that Charlie including her on anything was a recipe for disaster. Big disaster.
Max nods, though. Nods and tries to focus on whatever the fuck Charlotte has said about her, and also on not fainting right there in front of everyone. Easy peasy.
“Uh-huh. What did the red chaos demon do now? Did she finally admit that The Incident was her fault, or did she try to blame the puddle, again?” She hopes her sarcasm could be heard from the Ferrari facility, maybe teaching her best friend a lesson.
She is trying to make light of the situation, even though she doesn’t know if it’s a situation yet. But, it’s Charlotte! Of course, it will be! She always ends up embarrassing Maxin—
“She implied you took each other’s virginity.”
And. Fuck. That’s way worse than whatever the fuck Max was thinking.
She thought Charlie would’ve told Dani about their adventures with Pierre, Esteban, and George, running around with the boys during karting. Or, perhaps when they snuck into a club in Monaco with a very-fake ID and dressed up in very short dresses, all glammed up. Or—
“Max? Are you okay?” Dani’s voice is soft, so different from her normal cackles, the loud atmosphere that surrounds Dani is subdued now, and Max can feel her fingertips caressing the skin on her neck, making Max shiver.
This was not fair, not fair, not fair at all!
It was all Charlotte’s fault, her stupid mouth always landing them both in trouble, ever since they were kids. Max bets she didn’t even notice, that’s the thing, didn’t even notice that Dani was there, listening to her go on about their long-lost virginities.
Max tries to breathe out slowly, practicing the breathing techniques Brad showed her years ago and tries to explain herself.
(Themselves? Fuck it if Max knows. She doesn’t want to think about Charlie right now.)
“Y-yes. I know I didn’t tell you, and it’s nothing against you, Dani. Please, believe me.” Her sentences come out choppy, out of breath against her wishes. “I like girls, but I think you knew that already, didn’t you?” Max’s absolutely destroying her lower lip with all the worrying, but Dani’s eyes flicker from her lips to her eyes, flushing a bit more. Fuck, she looks amazing. Dani always looks great, but having her so close is breaking all the walls Max has spent years building.
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Studio Sessions - Chapter 1
pairing: Musician!Deidara x Popstar!Reader
warnings: 18+ (minors dni), alcohol use, drug use, sexual content, explicit language, mention of weight loss/working out to lose weight
wc: 4k+
This is my very first fanfic since I was a teenager, I hope you enjoy <;3
Deidara stormed into his record label, dressed in the same clothes from the night before and with a screaming hangover. He’d woken (at 1 PM) up to several news outlets reporting that his record label greenlit a collaboration between him and the hottest name in pop music right now, [y/n].
Deidara had several problems with the news, but the fact that he had no idea about the collaboration sent him over the edge. He knew his label wanted to change his image after his most recent EP didn’t chart, but this was too much.
He passed the receptionist without sparing her more than a withering glare when she tried to ask him to swipe his ID card. The security guard almost stopped him but hesitated when he saw Deidara’s clenched fist. He knew Deidara was an artist, so he’d let the breach go this time.
He slammed the glass door to his manager’s office open, startling everyone.
“Itachi, tell me you’re fucking joking, yeah,” he said. Itachi Uchiha, ever the stoic, barely registered the blonde’s fury.
“People have been loving cross-genre collaborations, Deidara,” he said simply. “Your album sales were among the worst across the entire label. We need to broaden your fanbase,”
“No,” Deidara seethed. His band had a cult following for their underground edge, so to collaborate with someone so mainstream would destroy his relationship with his most dedicated fans.
So what if his last show had to be moved to a downtown bar because they only sold a fraction of tickets at the original venue? In Deidara’s opinion, he’d rather be an unknown than sell out.
“I’m not collaborating with some goddamn corporate, brainless, incel’s wet dream–”
“I’d like to think I’m more of an e-boy wet dream myself,” you said, twirling a lock of your (h/c) hair. Deidara froze and turned to face you. “But that’s just my opinion,”
Gods. He hadn’t noticed you. Without your usual glam, you looked different. Good different. Though you were in a simple lounge outfit, the fabric clung to your body perfectly. His gaze briefly dropped to your cleavage before his gaze snapped back to yours.
Of course, you’d seen everything, which somehow made him angrier. There was amusement in your eyes that made it clear that you thought the situation, and therefore Deidara, was a joke.
At that moment, he knew you’d be a pain in his ass.
“Anyway,” Itachi continued. Deidara tore his eyes from you to look back at his manager. “With [name] working on her second album, she’d be the perfect match for a collaboration,”
Itachi watched the artist’s reaction to the news. He figured he’d be pissed because that was Deidara. He had a horrible temper and a habit of becoming destructive when angry.
His anger and penchant for starting fires helped fuel his sound, so there was a tense acceptance of his horrible public image.
Lately, his outbursts began to escalate. A journalist panned his work online? The next day, his car exploded mysteriously on his way to work. A concert venue canceled on the band at the last minute to book a comedian? The place burns down the night before the performance. It became a bigger problem than Itachi bargained for.
Over the years, Itachi advocated for Deidara to the C-suite more than once. The man was an artist in the purest sense, and with refinement, he could become a household name.
He’d get over the embarrassment of working with someone new because there wasn’t another option.
Collaborating with you would place Deidara in front of millions of young fans. It was a brilliant marketing move and an easy win for you, Deidara, and Itachi.
When Itachi first contacted your team, you were conflicted. Unbeknownst to anyone, you’d been a fan of Deidara for years. You knew his reputation from the dozens of tabloids featuring him and a rotating cast of models, actresses, and other singers who’d been unfortunate enough to think they could change him.
He was known for being a heartbreaker and a menace, someone you’d never be foolish enough to bring home, not even for a night.
So, why did your skin feel electric when he checked you out a few minutes ago?
You continued to assess him silently. His ice-blue eyes were sharp with self-righteous anger. You swore you could see the faintest smudge of black liner on his lower eyelids.
His long blonde hair, tousled from the abrupt start to his day, fell just below his collarbone. You almost wanted to touch it, to feel it between your fingers.
The man was beautiful. Beautiful and off-limits.
You cleared your throat, gaining everyone’s attention.
“I’m happy to work with Deidara if he’s agreeable,” you said, looking Deidara, then Itachi in the eyes. Itachi nodded, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“I’m so glad to hear that, y/n. I’ll contact your team later today with the next steps,” Itachi said. You bowed your head in acknowledgment before turning back to Deidara. You wondered what his next move would be, given that his display didn’t scare you.
Deidara, outnumbered, flopped into an empty chair across from you. “Fine,” he huffed, scowling back at you. “I’m letting you know right now that I won’t make some shitty teenybopper anthem, yeah,” You laughed.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Your manager rented studio time for you and Deidara a few days after your first meeting with Deidara in a pretty townhouse downtown. It wasn’t too far from your apartment, so you took advantage of the nice weather and walked.
Itachi told you he’d be stopping by to check in but never gave you a time. So, here you were, alone - 15 minutes after you’d agreed to meet Deidara.
The room was silent. You checked your phone for at least the 10th time, disappointed that there were no new notifications.
Rather than wallow in resentment, you began to scroll Deidara’s Instagram. It was a collection of random moments with no intention, and you wondered if the record label even had access to his account.
His posts ranged from videos with his tattoo artist to backstage pictures with his band. You zoomed in on a picture of him from about eight months ago. He was performing at a small venue. He held his mic stand above his head, his impressive shoulders on display. You zoomed in on his left arm to look at the tattoo.
To your horror, a red heart floated in the center of the picture before fading away. You dropped your phone as though the mistake burned your fingertips.
‘What the hell do I do?!’
You’d simply pretend nothing happened. You doubted Deidara even paid attention to his Instagram likes.
‘No harm, no foul,” you thought to yourself as you began to write.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deidara’s bedroom was also quiet, besides the lewd sound of sucking. The starlet he’s been fucking on and off wanted to stop by, and he was more than happy to send a car to pick her up.
They’d seen each other much more frequently after her latest movie was the subject of harsh criticism. It didn’t matter that the critics were correct. What did matter was how her pretty mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as she struggled to take his length.
She struggled to keep his precum and her saliva from making a mess on her face. He continued to push her head down anyway, reveling in the feeling of her very talented tongue on the underside of his cock. Deidara didn’t care if he ruined her makeup. It wasn’t like he needed to preserve her reputation.
Bucking his hips, he felt the tip of his cock touch the back of her throat. She gagged, tears beginning to well in the outer corners of her eyes. She looked so dumb, letting Deidara fuck her throat.
She was kneeling between his legs, one hand pumping his shaft as she sucked him off. He noticed her rubbing her pussy in a vain attempt to make herself cum. Poor thing hadn’t even worn panties underneath her tiny black skirt. He knew she was desperate to be fucked.
“Such a bad girl, touching yourself while you suck me off like a little slut” he spat. She moaned in response, and the vibrations sent shivers down his spine. He continued to bully her mouth, forcing himself deeper into the tight cavern of her throat.
When she released his length with an obscene pop to lick his balls, Deidara thought he just might die. His nostrils flared as he tried to control his breathing to no avail.
Somehow, his thoughts drifted from the woman in his bedroom to you. The way you seemed to be amused by him drove him insane. He thought of how you laughed at his (benign) threat and tensed.
His grip on her hair tightened as he felt pressure build at the base of his stomach.
Before he could refocus, he felt himself cum all over the woman’s face and hair. He checked his clock. It was the time he was supposed to meet you. Oops.
“I have somewhere to be,” Deidara said to his companion, who began to protest, much to his annoyance.
He ignored her complaints as he grabbed a towel from his bedside table, cleaned himself, and tossed it to her.
“I can’t do this anymore, Deidara,” she whined. “You’ve ruined my hair!” Deidara rolled his eyes. Somehow, this woman was more dramatic in real life than onscreen.
“You texted me, remember?” he asked, barely looking at her as he changed clothes. He grabbed his phone and checked his notifications. Nothing unusual.
Nothing, except a new Instagram like from you.
‘Interesting,’ he mused.
Deidara hated social media for the most part. It was only good for picking a groupie to fuck when he was on tour or to contact his dealer. The only reason he even made an Instagram account was because Itachi forced him to.
When he clicked on the notification, he was surprised to see which photo you liked. It was an older photo that would have required you to scroll for a while.
‘Very interesting,’ he thought to himself. It seems that you were more curious than you let on this morning.
“-Are you even fucking listening to me?” Deidara was brought back to reality by his guest, whose face was bright red. Her eyes were nearly bulging from yelling at him. She was on the verge of tears. Again.
He grabbed his keys and jacket and opened the front door, motioning for her to leave.
“Whatever, Sakura, I’ll pay for your Uber home, then we can call it even,”
“MY NAME IS INO, ASSHOLE,”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------
You were beginning to lose patience. It was an hour past your agreed-upon meeting time, and you were ready to call it a night. You considered calling Itachi to explain what happened when you heard a knock.
You hesitantly opened the door to see Deidara leaning casually against the door frame. He looked more rested than this afternoon, relaxed even. He’d changed into a fitted white t-shirt and low-rise dark jeans. His bomber jacket, which had become somewhat of a signature look for him, was slung over his shoulder. He looked good.
Unfortunately, you didn’t enjoy taking time out of your day to wait on someone who didn’t even have the decency to let you know he’d be late.
“What took you so long? You’re over an hour late,” you asked. Deidara raised an eyebrow. He was always late to his sessions. It was his trademark. Frankly, he was irritated that you’d rather waste time arguing about this.
“I’m always late. You can get over it or leave,” he replied, walking past you. You glared at the back of his head. You were hopeful that you’d be able to work together, but this was not getting off to a good start.
“I got started while I was waiting. You can look at what I’ve got,” you mumbled, motioning toward your workspace. Deidara picked up your notebook and read your writing silently, his face expressionless.
“S’pretty good so far,” he said after a few minutes. You sighed in relief.
“Pretty good for some fucking advertisement, un,” he chuckled, tossing the notebook aside. The nerve of this guy! You sat back down, shell-shocked at Deidara’s audacity. You took a deep breath to control the anger that was forming.
“Well,” you said carefully. “What were you thinking?”
‘Put the ball back in his court, make him feel special. Guys love that’ you thought.
Deidara thought for a moment before he pulled what appeared to be a rolled cigarette and lighter from his pocket. He took a deep drag and exhaled toward you.
‘Is that – ?!’ Drug use was an inevitable part of being in the music industry. While you weren’t one to judge, you didn’t partake in anything besides alcohol.
You fanned the foul-smelling smoke from your face. Deidara chuckled at your discomfort and offered the joint to you.
“D’you smoke, un?” he asked, pretending he didn’t see your horrified reaction. You shook your head.
“I don’t, but thanks anyway,” you said, smiling weakly. “Did you have any ideas for our single?” you asked, trying to change the subject. Deidara took another hit.
“Nah, I prefer to let inspiration hit me, yeah,” he replied. His eyes looked far away.
You didn’t want to ruin his vibe, but your patience had worn thin. If he had shown up on time, or at least let you know he was running late, you might be more amenable to his “creative process”
You stood from the table. “I’m going to take a quick break,” you said curtly, grabbing your phone and jacket before walking outside. You didn’t wait to hear a reaction or response.
The sun had set, draping the city in a deep violet color. You loved how nighttime transformed everything about where you lived. The buildings twinkled, reflecting headlights and neon signs. The city slowed down as people were no longer rushing to get to and from work.
Running your fingers through your hair, you pulled out your phone and called your manager, Sasuke Uchiha.
“[y/n]? Is everything okay?” he asked. Sasuke had been the person to discover you. He’d been a great friend and a steady presence in your rapidly changing life.
“No, Sasuke, everything is not okay,” you said, finally allowing your voice to break. “Deidara is the most arrogant and disrespectful asshole I’ve ever met. He came an hour late, without calling, and called my writing ‘advertisement music’! I don’t know if we can work together,” you said. Sasuke was silent for a minute before sighing.
“Go home for the night. I’ll speak to Itachi,” he said. “Please don’t give up on this until we talk again, okay?” You took a steadying breath.
“Okay,” you affirmed. Sasuke has always maintained your best interest; if he wants you to try to stick it out, you could do that for him.
You glanced back at the brownstone apartment, unsure for the first time in your career. This feature wasn’t necessary for you, but you wanted to work with an artist whose discography you admired. It would be a creative exercise, a challenge. It was so disappointing he couldn’t try to be cordial.
You returned to your shared space with a meek smile. Deidara was leaning back in his chair, on his phone. He looked immune to the tension between you.
“I think you’re right,” you said, packing your things. “I’m going to head home tonight. Maybe we can do some brainstorming on our own before we meet up again,”
Deidara was a little taken aback. He hadn’t meant to upset you; his antipathy wasn’t toward you; no, it was toward his label for coming up with such a stupid idea in the first place.
He watched you silently as you packed your bag and left, refusing to make eye contact with him.
“Night,” you said, opening the front door and walking out. You didn’t bother to close the door behind you.
Deidara watched you from the threshold as you disappeared into the night before his vision focused on a particularly irritated Itachi Uchiha, who stood in front of his black car across the street with his arms crossed.
His eyes, the color of freshly spilled blood, bore into his blue ones. Deidara could feel the anger rolling off of the quiet man as he approached. Itachi stalked into the studio and pulled the door closed behind him.
“Itachi I–,” Deidara began weakly. Itachi held up a hand, silencing the blonde artist.
“I think you forget the situation you’ve created for yourself,” Itachi began. “You sent a journalist to the hospital because he called your EP unfocused, which it was. You should be in jail, but I put my career on the line for you. Now, you can’t even try to work with [y/n]?”
Deidara flinched. He knew Itachi pulled strings for him and was eternally grateful for that.
“[y/n] seems nice, but I don’t understand why I should be happy about this. I didn't sign up to become some puppet for the label, cranking out songs with no soul, un,”
Itachi rubbed his temple. “Deidara, you have talent, but talent alone doesn't pay the bills. Your last project didn't do well, and Uchiha Records has invested a lot in you. They expect a return,” Deidara sagged his shoulders.
“You will make this right, Deidara,” Itachi warned. “You will stay here tonight and work, reach out to [y/n] tomorrow, and apologize for wasting her time. If you don’t, the label will drop you,”
Deidara nearly choked on his spit. To be dropped by his label would mean his hard work these past years would have been for nothing. He nodded stiffly. Sensing Deidara understood the severity of his situation, Itachi began to leave.
“And, by the way, Ino’s manager called me earlier. Please try not to kick her out of your place while she’s crying next time. I had to pay good money to keep photos of her from leaking,”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When you returned to your apartment, your roommates were already enjoying their weekly reality TV binge. The living room was extra cozy, with pillows and throw blankets covering the couch. Snacks covered the coffee table, and a bottle of wine sat open and within reach.
You ran to your room, dropped your things onto the bed, and changed into your pajamas before joining them on the couch.
“You’re home early,” Jun noticed, worry noticeable on her delicate features. She paused the episode just as a woman was about to confront her frenemy for planning a rival charity gala. Your other roommate, Sara, brought an extra wine glass and poured a healthy amount before handing it to you.
“Your time with Deidara…?” she started. You groaned and took a large swig of wine.
“He showed up an hour late, told me I had no talent, and then started smoking weed,” you said. Your shoulders sagged as the weight of today finally caught up with you. Sara whistled, and Jun’s eyes went wide.
“What the hell is his problem? It’s not like you’re on the same level, you’re doing this as a favor to him!” Sara said with a scowl. You shrugged and resumed the show, settling in for an evening of trashy TV and girl time.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You’d finally relaxed after a few glasses of wine and a half sleeve of cookies. You didn’t want to think about what your trainer would inflict on you when you met with her again.
The frustration of the day had finally dulled enough for you to enjoy the messy storylines of the women on screen.
Sara and Jun were committed to turning your evening around, so they kept you laughing with irreverent jokes and funny videos on their phones. When your cell phone vibrated, you didn’t think anything of it.
[maybe: deidara]: hey, this is deidara
‘What the hell?’ you re-read the text. You must be hallucinating from a combination of wine and a lack of sleep. Jun, sensing your change in mood, leaned closer to you. Her eyes went wide when she read the text.
“Sara, you’re going to want to see this,” she said, nudging your red-haired friend. Sara climbed over Jun to read the text and shot up from her place on the sofa.
“The best he can do is: Hey, this is Deidara?” She yelled, pointing a finger at you. “No apology? No Venmo notification for coffee?” You looked down at the message again.
“My read receipts are on, so I kinda have to respond,” you said sheepishly. Sara rolled her eyes.
“This is why I told you to turn those off,” She said smugly. She took your phone, typed a message, and gave it back.
[you]: what do you want?
You quickly typed a follow-up, not wanting to appear rude.
[you]: sorry, that was my roommate. What’s up?
His response came quickly.
[maybe: deidara]: no worries, i didn’t know you had a roommate. i just wanted to let you know i had some ideas that could use your feedback. i’m free this friday.
“He wants to meet on Friday,” you muttered. This time, Jun took your phone to respond before handing it back to you.
[you]: i can be free if you apologize for today 😉
You felt your face get warm. What if Jun’s response made their relationship worse?
[maybe: deidara]: fair enough. What if i bring takeout? i know a great spot for Chinese food. Do you drink?
Feeling emboldened, you took a selfie with the empty wine bottle.
[you]: I do indeed
You watched him type his response.
[maybe: deidara]: i’ll get us a bottle of wine
[maybe: deidara]: cute pjs btw. You should post this on Instagram. I can like it and return the favor.
‘Fuck,’ you thought to yourself. So Deidara did look at his likes. You wanted to be embarrassed, but you felt a little giddy.
You felt your face get hot. Sara and Jun exchanged looks with each other.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deidara left the studio about 10 minutes after he knew Itachi was gone. He felt the smallest amount of guilt for how he treated you. It wasn’t your fault his label was forcing him to do this.
He needed a drink.
He took a cab to one of his favorite bars, the Hideout, and sat at the bar. His server was a pretty brunette with the sexiest tattoos he’d ever seen. They’d had their share of fun, but he learned she was married when her husband showed up to his place and busted his lip a few months ago.
She smirked and handed him his usual before turning her attention to the other patrons.
“You look like you’ve got a stick up your ass,” his drinking buddy, a religious fanatic named Hidan yelled. The silver-haired man was already intoxicated, a deep flush on his cheeks as he leaned too far in Deidara’s direction.
“It’s nothing, un,” Deidara replied curtly, taking a drink. He just wanted to forget the past few hours. Between whatever her name was’s meltdown and the knowledge that his career was on the rocks, Deidara felt drained.
“You will stay here tonight and work, reach out to [y/n] tomorrow, and apologize for wasting her time. If you don’t, the label will drop you,” Itachi’s words rang in his head as he ordered another drink, then a third.
He checked his phone. He had a text from Itachi with your contact information.
‘I’d better reach out if I still want a job,” he thought bitterly. He sent the first text as he finished his third drink.
He was surprised when you responded twice in a row. He chuckled.
As it turns out, talking to you wasn’t too bad. You weren’t a drag, and you seemed pretty funny.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so painful.
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“It's nearly September, the nights are drawing in …
and the back to school ads are everywhere. Who’d like to hear my ‘Summer album’!”
Conventional logic might look awry at releasing your ‘soundtrack to summer’ just as Autumn is doing up its bootlaces, but then Phil Jackson (and the British weather) laugh in the face of conventional logic.
Sun Up was written in its entirety during the summer of 2022 - the hottest, driest and sunniest summer since 76… and opener Sunny Side Up epitomises that too-hot-to-hurry feel: breezy acoustic bathed in warm bass and piano, and the bare minimum of drums, amble relaxedly along with plenty of stop-and-smell-the-flowers (chew-the-grass-stalk, make-the-daisy-chains) pauses, topped with an ear-soothing Dundas/Gold vox.
After that meander in the sun (probably without a hat), sun up begins to take on a somewhat heatstroke-induced, shimmering heat haze, bleached-out, surreal vibe as Phil’s magpie-with-ADHD’s eye for genre and styles kicks in… from the piano-led slightly psychedelic rock’n’roll stroll of On The Line with its reverb guitar quirks, to Aberavon’s McGuinness-flint-do-Here-Comes-The-Sun where mandolin, cajon and acoustic slide are topped with velvety mulit-vox harmonies; and from Turn Back Time’s Tex-Mex-spiced country (slow, spare, hypnotic guitar and a highly Kris/Kenny treacly low drawl) to the very Stanshall-like cameo Ice Cold Cooler (think Floyd’s San Tropez jazzy strumming on a loop, with a splash of Hawaiian guitar) all about, well, wanting an ice cold cooler! More country comes in the cantering El Paso rhythm and twangsome baritone (or at least very bottom-end) electric guitar of Beach Hut Groove (with a splash of accordion for added Borderland flavour).
Coming even more out of left field, Surfin’ Daddy evokes (surprise!) the Beach Boys… having a panic attack: polished multi-vox harmonies and cheesy 60s organ accents career along on a driving heading-for-a-cardiac bass heartbeat with no let up or alteration, to create an anxious sense of tense urgency; and there’s a further touch of the Californian crooners in the fine smooth harmonies (with an impressive bass to falsetto range) on Cruise Control, this time mixed with trippy hints of Grantchester Meadows, a Lieutenant Pigeon-on-acid piano-led chorus and some very glam fuzz guitar.
The Eddie Cochran-via-The-Velvets muted chugging riff and acidic ‘solo’ lines as well as a splash of jangly Cali-psychedelia and more multi-voice harmonies add a Psychedelic Furriness to Take You There, and the Byrdsy jangle returns in the sunny Haight Ashburiana of Petal with its Farfisa organ, high stoner vox and one word mantra dissolving close; while Lost And Found, despite its folky mando-and-acoustic spangled opening, turns out to be minor key disco/soul-ish fare à la Angie/Miss You - smoky vocal, piano (and synth-sax?) underpinned by a rich bass line and drums with sophisticated rhythms and a closing bout of slide-generated space-time distortion for good measure! Synth-brass appears again in the only instrumental, Newest Boogie: with piano, cocktail drums and some rather Djangoesque guitar straight out of a 1940s Tom & Jerry chase sequence.
Coming back down to earth a little, the album closes with the mellow Donovan-ish troubadourisms of In The Deep, with trilling piano ornamentation and a dextrous melodic acoustic guitar solo, and the upbeat bounce (with darker undertones) of Sunshine Song, Phil’s wiry Lonnie-Don-McLean vox backed with light acoustic strumming topped off with a closing cowboy yodel.
As per usual, everything you hear on the album is Phil (other than the tight drums on Cruise Control, added by John Halsey) in a feat of majestic multi-musicianship! Evoking (to Plunger’s ears) the days of lying in sun-baked meadows flicking through the stations on your trusty tranny (can you still say that? Ed), Phil himself describes Sun Up as “pure summer vibes” and that’s what it has, albeit refracted through the multi-faceted prism of his kaleidoscopic musical mind.
Given the start to ‘summer’ we’ve had this year, maybe Phil’s timing is more trustworthy than a Met Office forecast?
Sun Up will be coming out as a self release CD in August on Phil’s Bandcamp [here: https://philjackson.bandcamp.com/music ] and at gigs, and then a little later as a ‘digital thing’!
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I've been trying unsuccessfully to find an uncropped image of Imai's gold paisley battle shorts with no text splayed across them and no guitar in the way (honestly I think finding any photo of Imai with no guitar in the way is a losing battle.)
I know I've spent the past few months reblogging pics of Atsushi screaming 'gender!' like everyone else on Tumblr - but I don't think that's actually personally correct?
Like, sure, I do totally desire Atsushi in all his "sapphic poet goth cat dad MILF" glory with the heat of a thousand suns! But never in a million years could I ever embody Atsushi's gender. It just isn't me.
But then, lurking my way through the fandom, reading all the jokes about Imai ("looks like a potato smeared with eyeliner"; "woke up in a dumpster"; "eyebrows not included") and I'm just thinking... oh no. Oh nonono.
I've always had this problem with bands, since the days of Duran Duran. These boys are presented to you as a smorgasboard of boys you are intended to desire. But I have always taken them as a blueprint of boys I wanted to *be*. And often there is a gulf between the one I desire, and the one I want to be. (And the hottest slash in the universe always takes place in that gulf between the one I desire and the one I want to be.)
And I'm just looking at Imai, and going "Oh no, this band has a Skanky Ho Boy. I always have to like the SHB."
(Wow, I would have to write an essay on the evolution of the Skanky Ho Boy - mostly a 90s phenomenon, a smear of eyeliner, glitter, leopard print and peroxide best embodied by the Manics, a band I actually loathed at the time. (My stance on the Manics has since softened.) The skanky ho boy was skanky because slightly dirty - the aim was too look nonchalant about one's personal grooming, like one had slept in a dumpster - while at the same time looking glam and "ho"-like. Sexual in an overblown, feminine-coded, sex-work-advertising way. Dirty and slutty, in both senses of both words. While at the same time, being very much a boy - not a man, not a trans woman - kind of a heterosexual equivalent of a twink. A way of being male without being remotely masculine.)
((And looking back on the shape of my life, I now understand exactly how transmasculine the Skanky Ho Boy archetype was coded, for me. It's the boy I always wanted to be.))
And I *love* that Buck-Tick has BOTH archetypes. Atsushi, the extremely femme-to-the-point-of-almost-transfeminine* MILF that all the lesbians are kind of extremely weird about. Atsushi has the kind of beauty that attracts straight men and lesbians as much as he attracts straight girls. And then there's Imai, the SHB, who codes so, soo extremely weirdly transmasculine* to me?
Am I reading this right? Am I being completely weird and off-base here?
I sent videos of the band to my oldest friend, in whose apartment I lived for most of the 90s, and she just laughed, agreeing 'that guy's like the floor of your bedroom achieved consciousness, and this weird homunculus made of paisley, leopard print, pleather and hair dye came alive and started playing with all your guitar pedals at once.'
I'm doomed, folks. I'm doomed.
*PLEASE NOTE: before anyone screams at me, I am not saying that Atsushi *is* transfeminine (though he has certainly been talking about transfemininity an awful lot lately and he 100% dings my nonbinary radar, which has historically been very accuate) or the Imai *is* transmasculine. I'm just saying that it's extremely easy to READ them that way, that is, project my own social meanings onto their media-filtered appearances. I am talking about the images, not about the human beings behind them.
#if anyone has a better photo of Imai's amazing gold paisley outfit here#please feel free to shoot it my way#I think what turns interest into obsession is having someone to talk about this stuff with#but I have no idea if this fandom is a place to do that#delete for diary#long post
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Come out next Saturday on Feb 11 2023 watch your atl hottest female model slay the runway Tickets On Sale http://cggeatl-edition.ticketleap.com/ On behalf of Cosmo Girls Glam Event in Association with DKP, we are excited to announce the details for our annual fashion show event. Introducing ATL Edition. CGGE Fashion Show Designer Stories 2023 Date: February 11, 2023 Red Carpet: 6pm Showtime: 7:30pm Showcase: 9:30pm Produced By: Valarie Person Location: Studio House Atlanta Address: 75 John Wesley Dobbs Ave NE, Atlanta, GA 30303 Hosted By Shay Star Hosted By Nya_Jolie Hosted By Nathaniel The Great Music: DJ Queen of Spades Live Performance: Mr Cheeks from Lost Boys (at Atlanta, Georgia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoKDEM7uB2E/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Harry Styles Got Shameless for Harryween, to the Surprise of Literally Nobody
The two-night Fancy Dress Party at Madison Square Garden, announced two years ago, was a Halloween treat worth the wait.
Ever since Harry Styles announced his Harryween shows in New York, almost two years ago, anticipation ran high. But Harryween was worth the wait. It was the hottest Halloween party in town, as fans took him up on his challenge to dress up for the occasion in Madison Square Garden. And to the surprise of absolutely nobody, Harry overdid it. On Saturday night, he came out as Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, posing with his picnic basket, dress, hair bow, and ruby slippers. For Sunday, he covered Britney Spears’ “Toxic” in a Pierrot clown suit, and he relished every ruffle of it. “I must say, I feel fabulous,” he told the crowd on Night One. “Do you feel fabulous? Good! Now we’re going to sing a sad song.” The whole Harry philosophy in one line.
The weekend was billed as a Fancy Dress Party, but it was a lot more than that. Over two nights, Harryween was a delirious glam-pop orgy, and the crowning cherry-on-top moment for his amazing Love on Tour. Originally booked for 2020, Harryween got pushed back a year when the pandemic hit. It was a long overdue victory lap for his blockbuster Fine Line, which dropped in the final days of 2019. Before the lockdown, he got to do only one proper U.S. arena show, at the L.A. Forum, where Stevie Nicks joined him to duet on “Landslide.”
But because Harry has an insatiable appetite for wreaking ungodly chaos in our lives, he topped his own standards this past weekend. Every moment of Harryween had the essence of a Harry live show, which is creating a communal sense of joy that turns total strangers into a congregation of ecstatic revelers. As he told the crowd, “Please feel free to be whoever it is you’ve always wanted to be in this room tonight.” The boyish mischief on his face as he started the rare fan-fave “Medicine,” knowing full well he was about to intoxicate everyone with “Toxic” — just pure evil. Britney was right — a guy like him should wear a warning, although maybe a clown costume counts as one.
When Harry spoke to Rolling Stone about his debut solo tour, he summed up his live aesthetic. “To me, the greatest thing about the tour was that the room became the show,” he said. “It’s not just me. I’m just a boy, standing in front of a room, asking them to bear with him.” But the room really became the show for Harryween. So many angels, fairies, superheroes, queens, cowgirls, Britneys, Juliets, Eltons, Cher Horowitzes, “Good 4 U” Olivias, sunflowers, the Bring It On cheerleaders doing cartwheels on the floor. And the twin queens of this year’s Halloween: Megan Fox from Jennifer’s Body and Velma from Scooby Doo. Glitter everywhere. Sequins and wigs. Feather boas. One of the best audience signs: two fans dressed as zombies, with the placard “Eat People With Kindness.”
Nothing could have kept this guy out of a dress for Night One. As Judy Garland’s Dorothy, he kept prancing and skipping and curtsying. (Has anyone loved anything as much as Harry loves to curtsy?) At one point, he clicked the heels of his ruby slippers while guitarist Mitch Rowland played the psychedelic “She” solo in his Cowardly Lion costume. The whole band was decked out in Oz drag: drum goddess Sarah Jones as the Wicked Witch of the West, bassist Elin Sandburg as Glinda, keyboardist Ny Oh as the Scarecrow, keyboardist Niji Adeleye as the Tin Man, and percussion master Pauli Lovejoy as the Wiz. (In a band full of larger-than-life personalities, it took a special kind of cruelty to cast the shy guitar dude as the Lion, but Rowland worked that mane like a true king of the forest.)
Harry committed to the role, right down to the tiniest details. Even when he skipped off and onstage for the encore break, he refused to surrender his picnic basket. After introducing the band, he held up the basket and yelled, “Now also, make some noise for Toto!” For the encore, he glided right from the ballad “Sign of the Times” into “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” tipping his cap to the long queer histories encoded in the song. (Right down to how David Bowie interpolated it into “Starman.”) He captured the sad yearning in the tune, without playing it for laughs. Here’s to his Dorothy Era — let’s hope he keeps on following the yellow brick road.
For Night Two, he laced up in a Gucci clown suit full of ruffles and frills. It evoked Bowie in his classic “Ashes to Ashes” video, with a similar emotional impact. As Bowie said in the Seventies, “I’m using myself as a canvas and trying to paint the truth of our time on it. The white face, the baggy pants — they’re Pierrot, the eternal clown putting over the great sadness of 1976.” Between clowns and The Wizard of Oz, Harryween covered two-thirds of my childhood nightmares. (To complete the hat trick, he could have added the Abominable Snow Monster from Rudolph.)
This might have been a fancy-dress bash, but that didn’t make it fundamentally different from his other shows — at any Love on Tour stop, it’s tough to find any corner of the room that isn’t strewn with feathers. During one of the early-October NYC shows, he singled out a group of dads to roast their fashion decisions. “You want to know how I know you’re dads? Because you’re wearing a golf shirt to a concert. All three of you, tucked in!” There was a touching moment Sunday night when he announced, “We have a very special guest in the audience — he was here last time we were in New York. Golf Daddy is back! He’s STILL tucked in!”
Musically, this tour goes for high-energy dance pop, skipping some of the biggest ballads in his songbook to keep the vibe festive, especially the 15-minute jam of “Canyon Moon,” “Treat People With Kindness,” and the early One Direction oldie “What Makes You Beautiful.” For “Treat People With Kindness,” the fans on the floor had a country boot-scootin’ line dance — they worked out the choreography long-distance around the country. And on this queerest of annual holidays, “Lights Up” took on a new resonance. Fans passed around different-colored slips of paper and Harry asked them to shine their phones’ flashlights through them, creating a rainbow around the room — a statement of Harryween Pride.
On Sunday, he stunned the crowd by busting out “Medicine,” a Stonesy pansexual anthem that got cut from his debut solo album, yet became a highlight of his first tour. He milked the surprise, pausing midpose as Jones struck up the drum intro and pandemonium swept through the room. Everyone sang the hook: “The boys and the girls are in/I mess around with them/And I’m OK with it!” (It’s officially “them,” but it’s fair to say most fans sing “him.”) And he went right from that to “A guy like you should wearing a warning.” There were rumors all night he might dip into the Spears songbook, since his stylist, Harry Lambert, changed his Twitter header to a Britney photo a few hours before the show. Yet “Toxic” was a surprise, just a few weeks after he waved a “Free Britney” banner onstage. Three years ago, in Madison Square Garden for summer 2018, a fan asked Harry his favorite Britney song. When he replied “Toxic,” the fans started chanting, “Sing it, sing it!” “You want me to sing it?” Harry asked. “Well, let me see … [Dramatic throat clearing] No.” But tonight he finally delivered his “Toxic,” and he went all the way into the song, taking his sip from the devil’s cup and slipping into a poison paradise.
The show ended, as always, with the glam-rock powerhouse “Kiwi,” which never fails to make the entire building wobble like a belly dancer. Fans on the floor gathered in a ring to create an awe-inspiring mosh pit. (At the Oct. 4 show, one of those moshing fans was Halsey.) It’s an amazing sight to witness from anywhere in the room, and it’s gloriously terrifying to get swept up in it, with the floor bouncing madly. The mania unleashed by “Kiwi” summed up everything Harryween was about: stepping into the light and finding out who you are. It was a Halloween weekend never to be forgotten.
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Round Six of The Hottest 80s Band Tournament
Mötley Crüe
Defeated opponents: Cybotron, The Beach Boys, XTC, The Clash, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
Formed in: 1981
Genres: hard rock, metal rock, Glam metal, heavy metal
Lineup: Vince Neil- vocals
Mick Mars- guitar
Nikki Sixx- bass
Tommy Lee- drums
Albums from the 80s:
Too Fast for Love (1981)
Shout at the Devil (1983)
Theatre of Pain (1985)
Girls, Girls, Girls (1987)
Dr. Feelgood (1989)
Propaganda: the all black, the messy hair, the sloppy makeup, the good makeup, the skimpy clothes, the high heels, the fingerless gloves, I could fix him (I absolutely could not), MORE HAIR. I love these trashy goth bitches
Guns N’Roses
Defeated opponents: ZZ Top, Pantera, A-Ha, The Go Go’s, Fleetwood Mac
Formed in: 1985
Genres: Hard rock
Lineup: Axl Rose- vocals
Slash- lead guitar
Izzy Stradlin- rhythmic guitar
Duff McKagan- bass
Steven Adler- drums
Albums from the 80s:
Appetite for destruction (1987)
G N’ R Lies (1988)
Propaganda: “The sluttiest a man can do is be in the Guns’N Roses’s original lineup”
“Watch this video and tell me slash doesn't have pretty boy babygirl swag”
youtube
“Whoo! Time for more Guns N’ Roses propaganda (and by that I mean an excuse to gush about Steven Adler, one of my favorite drummers/people ever)
First off, look at him. This is, and so cannot stress this enough, one of the cutest people I’ve ever seen. Ever. Look at him! (And also, he’s a drummer so he’s fun-size - he is 5’7 at most and at least some of you reading could pick him up)
And he’s one of the greatest and most fun drummers to ever live. I’ve heard maybe 3 other drummers who are as fun to listen to and who have as good of a feel for matching the actual emotion of a song (harder to explain with drumming, but even though they’re both love songs, wouldn’t do the same solos for Patience and Sweet Child o Mine - it’s the same deal here). The demo for Back Off Bitch runs laps around the full version and half of that is because of him.
Izzy Stradlin himself has said that he gave early Guns N’ Roses their feel and that things got weird and “nothing worked” without him (I swear to god that’s a direct quote). You know how hard it is to get a guitarist or singer to recognize and actually admit that? And he’s never made a bad song or sounded boring, and that’s really rare for 80s-era hard rock drummers. Even Tommy Lee’s had his weird songs and I can’t say the same here.
And some bonus propaganda before I write another five paragraphs”
youtube
Visual propaganda for Mötley Crüe:
Visual propaganda for Guns N’Roses:
#Round 6#mötley crüe#guns n roses#vince neil#mick mars#nikki sixx#tommy lee#axl rose#slash gnr#slash#izzy stradlin#duff mckagan#steven adler#the hottest 80s band tournament#the hottest 80s band tourney
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In honor of the Lost Boys ' 35 anniversary I'll try to post the Eddie in Santa Carla fic today.
Taglist still open btw!
another preview because i'm a little shit who likes to tease :
Eddie spent a few minutes looking at a stall that offered many patches, but not finding anything to his liking, turned away ready to go somewhere else. That’s when his eyes caught the sight of the five hottest dudes he’d ever seen. Two blonds bickering lovingly, the taller had teased hair and looked like he was from a glam metal music video, the shorter blond had an angel face, long curls and a very cool patched jacket. A platinium blond with a mullet was looking at them, he was wearing a long coat that seemed way too warm for the weather, and was smoking. The tallest was a beautiful brunet, with an open leather jacket that was leaving little space for imagination with tones abs. Eddie felt himself blushing at the sight, before looking at the guy his arms were resting on the shoulders. Shorter, but with striking eyes. Eddie froze.
He had found the Lost Boys he's heard about, and you were one of them.
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taken away
Pairing; Marko x Emerson!Reader
Summary; Moving to a different state with your younger brothers and mother just to live with your grandfather was hard enough, but falling in love with a vampire and then watching your brother do the same thing? Much different story.
Warnings; strong language
au:// Woohoo y’all part 4 and we’re finally getting into the good stuff, only two more chapters till the smut ;)
Part 3 - Part 5
“Where you going, Star?” My eyes snapped up to the owner of the voice, and they temporarily widened when I realized it was the same man the girl had left with the night prior. Apparently, her name was Star. His gaze was sharp, a silent warning that she better not defy him and proceed to get on Michael’s bike.
“For a ride. This is Michael.” She explained softly, gaze never leaving the mullet man. My own gaze flicked away from the conflict and towards my right where not even two feet away sat Marko, sitting atop his bike, and eyes already on me. He grinned a devilish kind of smile when my eyes met his and he sent me a small wink when I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away for a good few seconds.
“Let’s go.” Michael’s voice broke me out of it as he continued to try and get Star to leave with him. It didn’t work.
“Star.” Mr. Mullet warned. My eyes flicked between him and Star as she finally gave up and stepped away from Michael’s bike, grabbing the man’s shoulder and hoisting herself onto the back of his bike. I raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding the dynamic of whether or not they were together.
Once Star was seated comfortably and the dark-haired biker pulled the small child onto the back of his bike, Mr. Mullet turned his attention back to Michael. “You know where Hudson’s Bluff is? Over-looking the point?”
Michael scoffed a bit and shook his head. “I can’t beat your bike.”
Mullet grinned deviously and revved his engine. “You don’t have to beat me, Michael. You just have to try and keep up.” Before any of them made a move to leave, his gaze flicked to mine. “You’re more than welcome to tag along, doll. Wouldn’t want to leave a girl like yourself here alone.” And despite everything screaming in my head that I would be crazy to leave with these guys, and that I promised myself I wouldn’t associate with them and would turn in the other direction if they even glanced at me, I nodded.
His face lit up in an arrogant smirk and before I could even make the move to mount the back of Michael’s bike, Marko locked his gaze onto mine. “You could ride with me sweet thing, I’ll keep you safe. Promise.” There was a teasing tone to his words, and I rolled my eyes at his stupid pet name, but accepted his invite nonetheless. I hated riding with Michael, he was always jerky with the steering and switching between going way too fast and way too slow. These dudes couldn’t possibly be worse drivers than him, no matter where they were taking us to.
I pushed myself up and off the railing and walked around the side of his bike. I didn’t miss the victorious smiles the two long-haired blonds sent each other, but I chose to ignore it. I grabbed his shoulders and hoisted myself up onto the seat behind him. He looked back over his shoulder with a sly grin and whispered quietly to me. “Hold on.” I listened to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his torso and holding on for dear life as they set off.
The four bikes sped down the boardwalk, weaving between crowds of people and almost hitting a few concession stands, and finally the boys all quite literally jumped the staircases onto the beach sand. They must have done that a thousand times, because Marko was able to steady the bike as soon as it hit the sand and he kept going as fast as possible without ever making a move to slow down. I lifted my face from being buried in the back of his shoulder and turned my head to see how Michael was holding up.
He seemed to slow his bike to a stop at the top of the staircase, hesitating and debating his options, before eventually opting to rev the bike down the stairs. His back tire kicked out as he hit the sand, but he quickly balanced the vehicle back out again. Once I knew he was safely traveling behind us, I turned back around to face the direction we were heading in. The boys seemed to be riding in a kind of diamond shape so they could all make eye contact with each other if need be. From my spot, I caught sight of Star turning to catch a glance of Michael before turning to face forward and grin happily as the boys cheered.
I loosened my grip on Marko’s middle slightly, but not too much because I liked being this close to him in a weird sort of way. He turned his head to cheer with Paul who was laughing his ass off on his own bike a few yards away. I laughed and pressed my cheek to his shoulder blade to watch the ocean as we drove across the entirety of the beach. Soon the bikes moved into a line instead of the previous diamond, and we were speeding through the wooden stakes of the pier and swerving over a dirt path leading through the woods.
Finally, we emerged from the woods into a large cloud of fog, something completely abnormal at this time in the night and near this close to the bluff. I hugged myself closer to Marko as he, and the two other bikers pulled off to the side to let Michael and Mr. Mullet play a rather dangerous game of chicken leading towards the edge of the point.
At the last moment, Michael laid down his bike, skidding to a stop just before he plummeted over with his front tire hanging inches off the edge. Mullet braked his bike just in time, and he and Star stared out over the edge down towards the waves crashing against the bank. Marko and the two others quickly stopped their bikes as Michael stood sharply and whirled on Mullet.
I quickly stood from the bike and moved off to the side to get out of the boys’ way. The three bikers pushed themselves off their bikes, laid them down to the ground, and quickly moved closer as Michael ran towards Mullet. “What the hell you doing, huh?”
“No!” Star’s short scream of protest cut through the air as Michael pulled his fist back before punching Mullet clean across the face. The three others of the group quickly grabbed ahold of my brother and yanked him backwards, but he reciprocated just as fast and used both arms to shove back the dark-haired biker and Marko on either side of him.
He pointed at Mullet and began speaking once more. “Just you, come on! Just you.” He repeated, glaring Mullet down as the biker turned to look back at Michael with an eerily calm grin. “Come on, just you.” Michael mumbled again as Marko turned to grin at the other blond at his side.
“How far you willing to go Michael?” He mocked, watching with calculated eyes at Michael’s next move. Mullet gestures for his three friends to head down into the cave, and they all disperse from the three and begin to move their bikes so they’re out of sight. Before I can even try to make my way over to Michael to check if he’s alright, a pair of arms wraps around my waist from behind and swings me for a short moment. I let out a short squeak of a laugh, deciding that the chances of it being Marko are very high and there was no need for me to panic at the contact.
The wind blows hard from behind us, and a few locks of curly hair are blown forward across my shoulders. That confirms it, I note to myself.
After Michael’s and Mullet’s bikes are hidden away with the others, the eight of us make our way down a set of stairs that lead to an opening in the rock. The dark-haired boy leads us, a large burning stick in his hand that he uses to light a couple of fires around the cave.
The glam-rocker dude jumped down the last rock hand-in-hand with the young child. “Rock bottom, bud.”
“Yeah.” The kid laughed along, moving off to the side towards a large radio speaker. Marko gripped the loop of my jeans, pulling me to jump off the last rock and land next to where he was standing. I tore my eyes away from where Michael was to look at the curly-haired boy next to me. He was watching what Mullet was doing, not looking me in the eyes, but a smirk curled his lips when he noticed me staring.
As Mullet began explaining the history behind the cave we were in, Marko scooped a pigeon up from where it was picking at crumbs, and held it against his check as he pulled my belt loop to have me leaning against one of his legs. “Not bad, huh? This was the hottest resort in Santa Carla about 85 years ago.” Mullet’s voice echoed through the cave as glam-rocker leaned down to grab the heavy radio from the kid. “Too bad they built it on a fault. In 1906, when the big one hit San Francisco, the ground opened up, this place took a header-” He clapped his gloved hands together loudly as he walked around the fountain and in the direction of the corner where Marko and I stood. “- right into the crack. So now it’s ours.”
“So check it out, Mikey.” Glam rocker teased from on top of the fountain, busying himself with lighting a blunt. The guys all laughed at his teasing, before Mullet turned to where Marko and I were standing.
“Marko,” Said boy immediately stood a bit straighter, shifting from foot to foot and loosening his hold on the pigeon and I. “Food.” Marko gave a short nod, letting the pigeon go and turning to me. He jokingly kissed my cheek before whispering a little too softly into my ear.
“Be back soon, sweet thing.” When he pulled back he was sporting a large Cheshire grin, and he winked as I smacked his hair with a small laugh before turning and hopping back up the rocks we originally came down.
Now that he was gone, I couldn’t make myself look occupied and avoid contact with any of the other boys. I watched as Mullet held the blunt glam-rocker had given him up to Michael and offered it to him as an appetizer. Michael declined, and while Mullet’s attention was diverted I analyzed everyone else to see who the most approachable was. I decided on glam-rocker, shyly moving over to the couch he was seated on and plopping down next to him.
He grinned at me when he saw me make myself comfortable. “Hey, babe. Nice to meet you.”
I smiled back at him and gripped the hand he was offering to me, shaking it firmly. “Ivory.”
He laughed, almost a disbelieving kind of laugh, before locking eyes with me again. “Oh, we already know. Marko told us. I’m Paul, that’s Dwayne,” He pointed towards the dark-haired one sitting on the furniture opposite of us who sent me a small smile and tiny wave. I waved back before keying back into what Paul was saying. “And that’s David. You might wanna start calling him his name, I don’t think he takes too kindly to just ‘Mullet’.”
I felt my face flush and my eyes shot back to lock onto Paul’s. “Oh no, have I been calling him that out loud?”
I don’t remember calling him that out loud at all to be completely honest, but Paul grinned back at me like he knew something that I didn’t and went right along with it. “Oh yeah, definitely. Like three times, if I’m telling you the truth.”
I shot him a bewildered look before laughing. “Well, great first impression for the scary one I guess.”
Paul chuckled along with me. “Hey, you’re after Marko right now, if there’s anyone to be labeled the scary one - other than David - it’s him.”
I shrugged at his words. “My feelings for the blond can’t be helped.” I quite enjoyed this little banter we had going back and forth, it was flowing easily and I enjoyed being able to have an ongoing conversation with someone without it turning awkwardly quiet halfway through. After a little more banter between Paul and myself, footsteps echoed across the rocks and Marko jumped down into the cave.
“Feeding time, come and get it boys!” He called out voice echoing.
“Alright.” Paul cheered quietly as Marko carried the large box towards where David was sitting in his wheelchair.
“Chinese... Good choice.” David complimented when he saw the food inside the carryout box. Marko handed a container to David, before turning and tossing one to Dwayne.
“Over here bud.” Paul called out and Marko tossed one to him as well. The curly-haired biker then pulled out another container and leaned over to hand it to me, shooting a small smile my way when I thanked him.
I leaned back against the couch, Paul at my side, and watched as David opened up the box of rice in his hands. He took a bite of it before leaning over and offering some to Michael. “Guests first.”
“No.” Michael politely declined, holding up his hand and shaking his head softly. “You don’t like rice? Tell me Michael, how could a billion Chinese people be wrong?” David questioned, his joke causing the other boys to laugh at Michael’s expense. Mike snorted quietly before leaning over and excepting the rice, pulling the fork out and taking a bite.
I shifted in my seat, pulling my knees up to my chest and watching as David grabbed another box from Marko’s hands. A weird feeling filled my chest as I watched David look up at Michael instead of continuing to pick at his noodles.
“How are those maggots?” David’s voice suddenly broke the air and my eyebrows shot up. Michael looked up at him, eyebrow quirking and eyes filling with confusion.
“Hm?”
“Maggots, Michael. You’re eating maggots, how do they taste?” Michael rolled his eyes at what David was saying but looked down at his box nonetheless. I followed in his steps and brought my gaze down to my own box. Rice, that’s all that was in mine. My eyebrows furrowed and I lifted my gaze over to Michael’s box and had to physically fight myself against gasping aloud. Maggots wiggled around each other, almost completely overflowing from the container. Mike’s eyes widened and he threw the box to the floor, leaning to the side to spit out the creatures while the four boys laughed and Star protested against what was going on.
Mike reached up, and grabbed a piece of rice from his lip before looking back down at the box. We both stared in disbelief as the contents spilled on the floor weren’t even close to resembling maggots anymore - now all that sat there was the same rice in the rest of the boxes. “Sorry about that. No hard feelings, huh?”
“Nah.” Michael shook his head, obviously trying to play it off cool as I switched my gaze between the spilled rice and David, who shoved his chopsticks into the noodles he was holding. How had he done that? I had clearly seen maggots rummaging in the take-out container, but the next second they were back to looking like parcels of rice.
Suddenly, David leaned over and offered Michael the box of noodles in his hand. “Why don’t you try some noodles?”
I watched Michael physically recoil from the offered food and I was almost scared to look down and see what it was this time. “They’re worms.” Michael wasn’t lying, I caught a glimpse of the box before David pulled it back to himself and there were, indeed, clumps of worms twisted around each other.
“They’re worms.” David snorted in disbelief, rolling his eyes and collecting a few on his chopsticks.
“Hey, don’t eat that-” Michael tried to protest but shut his mouth when the only thing that was wrapped around the chopsticks and getting stuffed into David’s mouth were a tangle of noodles.
David swallowed his food, before looking back down to Michael with a small satisfactory smirk. “They’re only noodles, Michael.” I stared at the platinum blond in admiration, how had he managed to make both of us actually see something that wasn’t really there? How had he managed to make both the maggots and the worms seem so realistic?
“That’s enough.” Star spoke clearly, trying to get the boys to listen to what she was saying.
“Ah, chill out girl.” Paul shushed her from beside me, clearly enjoying the show David was putting on for them at Michael’s expense.
Suddenly, David’s cold eyes turned to me. He smirked, and gestured Marko over to him.
Marko leant over, letting David speak quietly into his ear and letting his eyes lock onto mine as the leader spoke. He nodded a bit, breaking his gaze from mine, dropping his food onto a small side table, and turning and walking over to an old, dusty collection of drawers. I watched him intently, feeling in that moment like I could live the rest of my life completely content if I could just watch Marko do absolutely anything. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a large bejeweled bottle with red liquid swishing around on the inside.
He carried this bottle with both hands and made his way back over to David’s side, handing it over to his leader as gently as possible. Everything became silent, and Star made her move to stand over to the side of where Michael was sitting against a broken fountain. Marko maintained his spot beside the platinum blond, but this time his eyes stayed on me - regardless of if mine returned his gaze or not.
David popped the cork of the bottle and raised it to his lips, taking a large gulp of the liquid and letting his eyes roll back into his head in pleasure after swallowing it. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the interaction unfold. He opened his eyes, now a faint bloodshot, and locked them immediately with Mike’s.
“Drink some of this, Michael.” I didn’t like the feeling I got in my chest just then, a deep unsettling feeling that shook me to my core and made me want to run up and out of the fallen hotel and hightail it home. Judging by Michael’s expression, he obviously didn’t have even close to the same idea I did. He watched David with interested eyes as he spoke his next few words. “Be one of us.”
#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys x reader#the lost boys imagine#the lost boys headcanon#the lost boys paul#the lost boys david#the lost boys dwayne#the lost boys marko#marko x reader#dwayne x reader#david x reader#paul x reader#alex winter#brooke mccarter#kiefer sutherland#billy wirth#the lost boys poly#the lost boys masterlist#david the lost boys#marko the lost boys#dwayne the lost boys#paul the lost boys#star the lost boys#the lost boys star#michael emerson#lucy emerson#sam emerson#frog brothers
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Chapter 2
A low hum filled your bedroom. You shuddered, neon vibrator moving ever so deliciously over your clit. Hmmm, it felt good. Amazing, especially when Jimin in that tight suit from earlier made his cameo in your mind.
You remembered his plump lips and imagined them kissing the vein that was slowly pulsing in your neck while his fingers lovingly caressed your full breasts and rubbed your sensitive nipples taut. You heard his raspy voice in your head, urging you on.
"Yes baby, just like that hmmm."
" Slow circles baby, just like that."
" Now up the speed and hold it right there."
You imagined him losing control at the sight of you spread open and flipping you over to pound into you wantonly. At that, your pleasure peaked, eyesight becoming hazy as your body shook, racked by wave after wave of sweet release, one name leaving your lips over and over.
You hadn't come so deliciously in a while.
With THAT handled you could finally let your mind focus on other things. Like how you were supposed to be getting ready for tonight's dinner, not spread-eagled on the bed panting.
Sighing contentedly you made your way over to your lavishly decorated bathroom. After much deliberation, a bubble bath it was.
You let your anxiety melt away with the jasmine-scented bubbles that were tickling at your skin. Heaving a sigh of pleasure you let your mind wander to your first celebration dinner. You, Jae, Max, and Sadie had bagged your first big client and things were starting to look up for you.
You had split the bill at that cozy little restaurant four ways and vowed to give the contract your everything. Your blood, sweat, and tears had paid off and now you were going to be pulling up to the hottest new spot in town, having lost count of all the celebratory dinners that had followed after that night.
Your little vibrator sesh and bath left you feeling damn good. You felt sexy as hell and decided you might as well rake up a few casualties while having a blast with your friends turned business partners. Scrap the boring red body con dress you had picked out yesterday. You were going with a racy black floor-length number with deep slits running on either side.
Its plunging off-the-shoulder neckline was adorned with delicate black lace and showed just enough skin. Your barely covered lace-clad tits would sit temptingly above the cinched waistline and the rest of the dress would hug your generous curves to perfection.
Looking yourself over in the floor-length mirror, you hummed in satisfaction. Makeup on full glam, hair straightened to perfection, and done up in a dangerously long, sleek ponytail, subtle was definitely not the look you were going for.
You let the sound of your sexy black heels echo through the hallway as you made your way out the door and to the hired limo waiting outside.
As you approached the limo you spotted a slightly flustered-looking Max stepping out in front of the driver. He was clad in a tailored navy suit and a crisp white shirt, his honey blonde hair slicked back to perfection.
'Gorgeous,' you thought. If Sadie hadn't been thirsty for him since college you'd definitely have been all over that.
When you spotted Sadie being helped out by a now openly blushing Max you understood the reason behind his flustered state. She wore a long flowy white sleeveless dress with a plunging white lace adorned V neckline, a cinched waist, and two deep slits running up to her mid-thigh.
She looked like an angel. A sexy angel.
Max couldn't take his eyes off her, even as she squealed and made her way over to you. Why he'd never made his move truly baffled you.
"Oh my God girl, you look bad bad like kill them boys dead bad!" she squealed.
"And you Sades look like the sexy angel sent to collect all the souls..."
"I hate when they get all morbid," said Jae from inside the limo.
"Yeah man," Max grinned as he stepped aside to let Jae out.
Jae, Jae, Jae that sexy mother fucker.
In all black, he looked like sin itself. His jet black hair was slicked back too, save for a few trusses that graced the right side of his forehead. You watched as he sauntered over to you, muscles rippling under the tailored black suit that seemed like it had been painted on.
"Well well well, looks like fate has us looking like THAT couple vacationing from Hades again," Jae mused as his eyes traveled hungrily over your form.
"You look utterly sinful babe. My God. How are we not married?" he continued, bringing his fist up to his mouth in mock exaggeration.
"She doesn't do dogs Jae that's how," retorted Sadie in a tone that had you all keeling over with laughter.
The ride to the restaurant was pleasant, you guys going over each other's days and toasting to what was surely going to be a fun night. As the hot new spot came into view you couldn't help but gasp. It was modern and opulent. You made a note to get better acquainted with the owner. This spot would do well for dining your A-list clients. Max and Jae definitely seemed to echo your sentiments.
You were welcomed and led to your table, which was one of the best in the room according to your host. You couldn't help but take in all the decadent finishings and the sultry ambiance they helped create.
As you sat down you noticed an upper level off in the distance. Jae noticed it too and the server following his gaze quickly spoke,
"That Sir is the owners' space, they dine here with or without business clients on quite a regular basis. They will be here tonight too, they like to make sure our VIP guests are very comfortable."
You could understand the hype about this place. Course after course blew you away. You even regretted wearing your tight black number with its cinched waist. Sadly, you had to practice restraint and forgo what would probably have been the best dessert of your life.
While Jae gave you an earful about a planned business trip, you watched a very satisfied-looking Max and Sadie huddled together, deep in conversation. You then flicked a glance to the upper level which now seemed to be occupied, presumably by the mysterious owners of the restaurant.
"Jaehyun, you sly bastard is that you?" a smooth voice drawled.
"JK!?" an utterly delighted Jae beamed.
You turned to see the drop-dead-gorgeous man clad in all black - black slacks, black waistcoat, black silky shirt and instinctively clenched your jaw to stop it from hanging open.
You heard Sadie let out a little squeak and watched Max's face flash. The man's doe eyes landed on you, lingered, and then moved to Sadie. A bright smile then graced his angular face.
"Please, it's Jungkook now, no one's called me that since our rookie days... But you, my friend, haven't changed one bit, I guess leaving the idol life did you some good."
Jae gushed at Jungkook's words and responded in kind.
"The mogul life looks good on you too."
"Ladies," Jungkook said as he stared intently at you and Sadie.
You were just about to respond when a familiar voice rang through the air. Its owner stopping to put an arm around Jungkook.
"Miss Thompson, we meet again. I see you've had the pleasure of meeting Jungkook over here," Jimin mused, eyeing you and Jae who was now sitting impossibly close to you.
The air seemed to thicken as two more figures joined the table. You were positively shook. Sadie was gone. Max was not amused but hiding it well. There in all their glory stood RM and V, looking good enough to eat in their tailored business suits.
"I believe introductions are definitely in order," said V, checking you out openly. Hungrily even.
"Ah yes," said Jimin taking your hand and bringing it up to his lips, a naughty glint in his eye, "this, gentlemen, is Miss Thompson."
Son of a bitch, he'd introduced you like you were some lover of his or something.
You straightened, looking each man in the eye.
"Very nice to meet you gentlemen, Y/n Thompson of Black Ice Media, these are my partners Sadie Gold, Jaehyun Jeong, and Max Levy," as you gestured towards each of them.
You watched as realization hit the faces of Jungkook, V, and RM.
Jungkook spoke up first.
"Pleasure to meet you indeed. Jaehyun you sly dog, so this is what you've been working on since you left Korea."
Jae seemed flustered and was uncharacteristically quiet.
Jungkook turned to look at his friends and continued. "You guys remember my friend Jaehyun from NCT right?"
They nodded in agreement oohs and ahhs filling the air.
Finally, a deep, velvety voice spoke, taking your breath away and somehow also making you soak your lace panties.
"Apologies for the interruption Jae, Y/n, Sadie, Max, we'll let you guys continue with your evening. I'll have the waiter bring you our best bubbly and whatever else you wish to drink tonight," Namjoon said. Mesmerizing gaze still holding yours, he added with a dimply smirk, "on the house."
Your dirty thoughts were interrupted by a throat clearing.
"Well, that was..." Max said.
"Awkward." You finished.
"Introductions always are babe, they always are," Jae said as he sipped his drink.
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Friends Don’t Look at Friends That Way Pt2 (jj x reader)
Word Count: Around 1,300 (sorry!lol)
Warnings: Alcohol mentions, angst
Music Rec: One Way St. - Jhene Aiko (just a good song and is mentioned in the chapter :)
Part One
Recap: “And with that JJ laid back again and you found yourself in his arms. It wasn’t right, but you could get used to the way it felt even though you wanted more.”
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It had been about a week since that night, but your head was still as clouded. JJ hadn’t called you once which was definitely not your style and it was beginning to worry you. Is he ok? Or maybe I was too forward?
Maybe he just doesn’t want to be around you anymore.
You shook your head as a half-assed attempt to put a stop to the self-deprecating thoughts and instead focused on the music playing through your headphones as you came home from work, but that proved to be less than helpful. “Going the wrong way down a one way street.” Jhene couldn’t have said it better and frankly you felt like a semi carrying a shit ton of rejection and hurt was barreling towards you, no evidence of it slowing down and ready for a head on collision. Bracing before a crash, emotional or otherwise, had never been your specialty. You already felt like shit and you couldn’t imagine what would happen if he actually talked to you about it. You had never been one for confrontation, but he had left you on read for a week now and you were going nuts trying to figure out what you did.
Your feet hit the pavement in a slow rhythm, but as you began to think about what he was doing (or not doing) your pace began to pick up. At this point you were angry, how could he be so childish?! You were just trying to talk to him and he didn’t even bother looking at the last message! That really hurt your feelings and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Fuck him then. Your shoes hit your colorful doormat as you entered your house prepared to look the hottest you had ever looked for the kegger tonight. Walking into the kitchen you quickly grabbed the bottle of vodka from your parents cabinet knowing that they wouldn’t miss it and marched up your stairs. One thing was for sure, you didn’t need JJ to have fun. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.
Unfortunately JJ’s thoughts were just as scattered. It was only 2 in the afternoon and he had already begun pregaming for the celebration tonight, but then again it might have just been a happy coincidence. He stared at the texts you had sent him and all he could do is run a hand over his face only pausing to take a gulp of the beer in his hand.
“wanna surf tom?” --read 8:02am
“????” --read 8:23pm
“you good?” --read 7:48am
“just talk to me” --read 10:47am
“what did i do” -- delivered fri 4:30
read sun 10:23
Fuck. He didn’t want to hurt her so he kept his distance, yet he still managed to make her feel bad. Once again this proved to himself that he was just a walking disaster. He knew by Saturday night that if he didn’t back away now it would just get so much worse. John B. came home the morning after to JJ huddled in the blue sheets of his spare room, eyes rimmed with red and for once it wasn’t from smoking. After hauling him out of bed and forcing him to take a shower, John B. questioned him over breakfast that JJ had tried to refuse multiple times. A text from you lit up his screen, and his face immediately dropped. He was a fucking wreck and anyone who saw him could figure it out. He loved you. There was no point in denying it now, especially to John B. A boy who spent years trying to convince his best friend that he was a good person who deserved a healthy, happy love. Needless to say, he still wasn’t successful despite his efforts.
“She makes you so happy dude, I mean we can all see it. You are so damn happy. She makes you do things that you would never think of doing and you love it….She...She makes you think before you act because you know that it would destroy her if anything happened to you. For once you actually give a shit about your future and that’s because of her!”
By this point John B. was almost yelling as he had no clue how else to get it through his head that you loved each other.
Calming down he said, “ I mean really...is this what you want? Because you deserve better than this….She deserves better than this.”
Not a single muscle in his face moved when he stood up from the chair, the screech from the legs rubbing on the ground echoing as the sentence hung in the air. A part of JJ knew John B. was right, but ultimately he would never risk your happiness to make room for his own.
“Thanks for the breakfast.”
Feet padding against the wooden floor, JJ made his exit right into the room he came from, no regard for what his best friend had said. With a huff John B. decided that this was a battle he’d fight another day and left to go see Sarah. When the door slammed shut, tears fell from JJ’s eyes. It’s ok if he thought he was stupid, at the end of the day JJ was doing what he thought would help you.
Night was approaching and you were ready as ever for tonight’s festivities to begin. Kie had come over and you were screaming the words to various songs as you guys got ready for the night. It didn’t take you long as you both were never huge fans of full glam looks, but could appreciate it on other people. As you checked yourself out in the mirror you couldn’t help but smile. You were all for body positivity, but you were never a super skinny girl and sometimes that made you insecure. But today. Today you loved the way your curves filled out your too short cut offs. Between that, Kie’s halter top, and the layered necklace that fell perfectly in the middle of the deep v neckline, you were irresistible. Kie grabbed your hand and pulled you downstairs as you headed out for the party.
The dull thumps from the speakers began to get louder as you guys approached in the car and before you knew it you were parked and ready to get out, fingers wrapped around the silver handle. This was a mistake. Although it was just a flash of trepidation, Kiara had seen it and asked, “(y/n), you ok?” and frankly you had no clue. Were you ok? I mean no you weren’t and you definitely wouldn’t be tonight, but did you need to worry her. The silence was answer enough for her and she studied your face.
“We don’t have to go y’know. I’m ok with not going and I can just tell the guys we hungout all night?”
“No, no it’s ok. It’s just...JJ hasn’t been talking to me lately and I don’t know why, but to be honest I think I do, but I don’t want to think that way.”
Kie stared at you waiting for you to continue with a slight nod to show she was listening. After a moment of hesitation, you turned your body so that your open back was no longer against the leather seat and your knees were pointed at her despite how small the car was. Even though you were facing her, your eyes refused to meet hers as you focused on chipping away at your nail polish while you spoke.
“I..I just...we had a moment last saturday. I mean I thought we did and I think I like him and...and I think he knows and is just avoiding me until he finds the right way to reject me. He just kept leaving me on read and I figured the best revenge was to look great tonight. But honestly, I guess I just wanted to make him realize that I can be more than a friend.”
Kie had had enough. JJ was acting like a dumbass and she wasn’t going to let him hurt her friend. You are the sweetest person that she knows and you deserved a guy who would give you the same effort that you always gave others. She began to smile as she started planning the rest of your night in her head and she was going to make sure you had the time of your life. She reached into the backseat and handed you the bottle you had snagged earlier and after spinning the top off you took your first of many shots that night.
“You deserve to have a good night. Without JJ. Let’s fucking do this.”
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Part 3
Sorry to leave you guys on another cliffhanger I hate it when writers do it lol! But honestly thank you guys so much for all of the messages that you have sent me and all of the likes that you have left on part one. It was my first ever fanfic so it felt super good to see that you guys enjoyed it. I am going to start working on part 3 right after I post this, but idk if I will stop the story with that part. I’m new to this so let me know if you want to be on a taglist of if you have any requests for any character from any show. I’m not picky! Anyways love you all and I hope you’re staying safe.
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Isn't it interesting how the effect Paul had on the average girl was exactly the same kind of bewitching power John seemed to have over straight men? Have you noticed how every guy who met John for two seconds seemed mesmerized and willing to risk it all for him?
Many hid their attraction behind a "man crush" but the terms they use to describe their encounters with John or his appearance are decidedly romantic or just plain sexual. Sometimes I'm really sorry that John didn't get to explore his sexuality enough as a bisexual man, because he really was the "bad guy" who could seduce your dad type.
I often think about someone like Harry Nilsson. For a straight, married man, he surely couldn't get enough of touching John. There are tons of pictures of his roaming hands all over the guy during the Lost Weekend. Then his kid turns up on twitter saying this:
"When Dad first met John Lennon in 1968, they stayed up all night talking. Dad remembered how it made him feel: “My God, this is it! This is right. This is truthful. This is good. This is honest. This is exciting. It’s inspirational".
Sounds like someone had just met the boy he was going to marry, eh? I doubt he wouldn't jump in bed with John for a night or two if only he had said the word. And so would many other famous men. And those are the straights. The queer ones were equally keen. Mick, Elton and David? I hope John tapped at least one them because they were all for it.
Important to note how most of these guys tended to be very anti-Paul. I think it was a typical case of romantic jealousy. It was as if all of their love/attention/friendship/desire for John wasn't enough because there was this fucking guy they couldn't compete with. So they'd slag him off.
Maybe it's because post 1969 John really exuded this very sexy femme-y energy. It's the one thing that he really turns me on about him, as a girl who grew up crushing on glam rock types. He looked like he'd be the hottest pillow prince and I think many of these men picked up his vibe, in ways that made them super confused. Am I out of line here?
Goodness gracious
Yeah, John definitely had Something that attracted men specifically. There does seem to be this almost mystical hold he had over a lot of the men that he knew, right? He seems to have been the type of person who, when his attention was on you, it was ON YOU, and he could intuitively create a space extremely quickly in which a virtual stranger would feel as though they’d known John deeply, and John had known them deeply, for years. That combined with his intelligence and often total openness/heart-on-his-sleeve disposition could make speaking with him and being with him very intense. I imagine this was a shock for a lot of men in the 60s and 70s, a time when emotional repression was the norm for them. It’s like... this is a weird analogy, but it’s like a character in a TV show that just needs a hug for god’s sake, only they don’t know it, and when someone (John) finally gives them one, that character’s emotional walls are totally torn down and they are instantly, completely devoted.
I do know what you mean by the sexy femme-y energy, but he was also attracting men like this even before 69 (I’m thinking about how Larry Kane talks about him sometimes, for example). It may have been a factor for some of them, but I think it’s also likely that it was just an innate trait that John always had.
I don’t know about the anti-Paul part of it, though, mostly because I have no conception of how any of those people (Mick, David, Elton, Harry, etc.) feel/felt about Paul; my classic rock knowledge basically starts and ends with the bug boys themselves, ha.
I have no basis for this theory except my own intuition about how people work, but it could be, especially in the 70s, that when John would talk about Paul with people, it would often be with a negative connotation. So, as you do when your friend is talking shit about someone you don’t know, you side with your friend and start thinking about that person with your friend’s bias as a starting point. But what that starting point obscures is the love John truly had for Paul. It obscures the fact that if you said those things about Paul, John would have hit you. And perhaps there is a bit of disbelief that Paul could have let someone as special as your friend John get away, and jealousy when you do eventually realize that John does still love Paul and will never not love him, despite all the shit John has talked about Paul to you.
#i realize i only answered like a third of this and then tangented off into my own thoughts here#but that's what you get when you come to monkberries dot tumblr dot com#johnny#macca#Anonymous
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