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in-death-we-fall · 2 years ago

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Fell In Love With A ghoul

Some people spend their whole lives searching for their soulmate. But as Murderdolls prepare to gatecrash the charts with their cover of ‘White Wedding’, Joey Jordison and Wednesday 13 explain why they’re made for one another…

Words: Dave Everley Photos: Roxy Erickson

(docs link) (Clown article x x)

Wednesday 13, frontman with the Murderdolls, is an avowed Mötley Crüe fan. He owns all 11 of their albums; he'll even defend their traditionally indefensible later, minor works with all the passion of a man who has divested large chunks of his earnings into the band's output at one time or another. He has, he estimates, read their infamous biography 'The Dirt' eight times.

Now Mötley Crüe were undoubtedly dunderheaded arse-clowns of the highest order — and you can't help feeling that Wednesday 13, despite his unshakeable affection for the band, knows this. But they were also absolutely fantastic, if only for one particular reason: in the midst of the soulless, self-obsessed circle jerk that was the '80s rock scene, they were utterly, gloriously unique. Yes, they were as dumb as fence posts; yes, their behaviour veered between the mischievous and the truly cretinous; yes, they spawned a whole shower of shit that took years to mop up. But they were out there on their own.

It wouldn’t be inaccurate to call Murderdolls a Mötley Crüe for the ‘90s, if only for the reason that, in the midst of the soulless, self-obsessed circle jerk that is today’s rock scene, they too are utterly, gloriously unique. Whether you’re of the opinion that they’re a knowing tribute to the days when bands’ agendas extended no further than having as much fun as possible as often as possible, or simply the latest in a long line of shit-kicking party bands that began with the New York Dolls, there’s no debating the fact that they’re out there on their own as much as Mötley Crüe ever were.

And for that reason alone, the Murderdolls deserve your attention.

On paper, Murderdolls shouldn’t really exist. Or at least, they shouldn’t exist on the scale that they do. A modern day cock rock outfit put together by the drummer from Slipknot, a band who, love them or loathe them, at least managed to sneak a form of extreme metal to the top of the charts? Riiight.

Except the Murderdolls do exist, and they are successful. Their sole album to date, last year’s glam-Goth opus ‘Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls’, has sold 50,000 copies in the UK – half of what Slipknot sell, admittedly, but done with only a fraction of the hype the latter band has been fuelled with over the past few years. Their new single, a snarling version of Billy Idol’s ‘80s hit ‘White Wedding’ looks set to bust their B-movie indebted noise out to the masses.

In a sparse but stylishly furnished room deep in the warren of corridors that make up the West London headquarters of Sanctuary Management – handlers of Murderdolls, as well as Iron Maiden, Guns N’Roses and dozens of others – Wednesday 13 sinks into an expensive leather sofa and proceeds to empty the contents of his less expensive leather trousers onto the glass-topped table in front of him.

“Man, too many pounds in my pocket,” he says good-naturedly, his attempt at an English accent as successful as that of most visiting American musicians (that is, not at all).

Two days ago, Murderdolls played the main stage of the Download festival. They hung around the site for another 24 hours, soaking up the atmosphere and generally drinking themselves senseless. Wednesday started “partying” at three o’clock yesterday afternoon. He didn’t stop until the small hours of the morning. He woke up at eight o’clock. It’s now two in the afternoon. There’s not even a whiff of a hangover. Bastard.

“I don’t get them,” is his cheery response. “Never have.”

The Wednesday 13 sitting here, laid-back and grinning, couldn’t be further removed from the sneering, spiky, B-movie anti-hero that appears on Murderdolls records. That Wednesday 13 is a sneering, spiky B-movie anti-hero with arsenic and embalming fluid running through his veins. This Wednesday 13 is Joseph Poole, a 26-year-old Mid-Westerner who still lives in the same “tiny as fuck” North Carolina town where he’s spent most of his life and who hadn’t so much as set foot on an aeroplane until Joey Jordison paid for him to fly to Des Moines to join the Murderdolls.

He looks nothing like you’d imagine him to. He’s fleshier for a start – not fat in the slightest, but not the sunken-faced cadaver that leers out from photos. He looks younger too, though that could well be on account of the fact that he’s not made up to resemble death warmed over. Only the array of tattoos that adorn his arms – “horror movie shit” like Bela Ludosi, Linda Blair, the Bride Of Frankenstein, Herman and Lily Munster, ‘Hellraiser’ – equate the man sipping Diet Coke and beaming effusively with the dreadlocked ghoul who fronts the Murderdolls.

Actually, Wednesday 13 isn’t really anything like you’d expect him to be, full-stop. Back home in Landis, he lives in a suburban home with his longtime girlfriend and his five-year-old daughter, Zoe (“We’re like ‘The Addams Family’,” he smirks). He admits that he’s shy, that “when I talk to people, I don’t really look them in the eye” (this is true). He’s not embarrassed to admit that his relationship with his parents is “awesome – my parents were always super-cool”.

What was your childhood like? “Dude, I lived in a trailer until I was 13 years old. I didn’t even have my own room until I was 10 or 11.”

And how were you supporting your family before that call came from Joey? “Delivering magazines. I had to drive an hour to my job, so I’d get up at 4:30 in the morning, leave at five and be there at six. I drove a big delivery truck. I had to go to grocery stores and put ‘National Enquirer’ and ‘TV Guide’ and all that shit in there. That sucked.”

Ever think of jacking it in and moving to New York or LA to get closer to the action? “I always thought it’d be cool to live in New York, but I never had the money, and I never had a band that was willing to pack up and move. I really lucked out when I got a call from Joey. The last fucking dude on earth I thought would call me would be the drummer from Slipknot.”

Before Joey Jordison entered his life, Wednesday 13 fronted the Frankenstein Drag Queens From Planet 13. Formed when he was 19 years old, the Drag Queens combined the twin influences of Alice Cooper and Ed Wood. Between 1996 and 2001, they released four albums of schlocky, snotty punk rock (several songs from these records would be reworked and re-recorded for ‘Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls’). Their schtik – wigs, dresses and zombie make-up – was as becoming as it was dumb. Still, in North Carolina – a pig’s squeal away from Bible Belt country – that’s one hell of a statement to make.

“When we started out, it was complete war,” is his memory of the Drag Queens’ early days. “We didn’t want to be friends with anybody. Every show was a fucking battle. I’d just say shit to the audience to get a rise – if they were drinking beer, I’d shout, ‘Beer is for fags!’. Then they’d start throwing shit at us, and I’d take my guitar off and jump into the crowd.”

Did it ever get physical? “All the time. At one gig, a guy in the audience threw a beer at me. I dived in the audience and tackled him, and started beating the shit out of him. I was wearing a pink dress and platforms at the time. This was in a new town and there were 100 or so people there. I thought they’d beat the shit out of me, but they ended up cheering me on.”

Remarkably, Wednesday managed to survive those early shows relatively unscathed. Even more remarkably, local club owners seemed to like the band’s mixture of outrage and antagonism. The buzz around the Drag Queens began to spread across the state.

“Everybody in town hated us, because we actually got gigs. The club owners kinda dug us. They were like, ‘We’re sick of all that other shit – this is fucking entertaining, let’s book them’. All the other bands hated us for that – ‘They’re fags, they’re wearing dresses, they don’t know how to play music’.”

What did your parents think of what you were doing? “My mom always sewed my clothes for me. She sewed all my dresses up.”

And your dad? “I dunno. I’m sure any man doesn’t want to walk around a corner and see his son standing there going, ‘Hey Dad, I got this new dress. Like it?’. But now I think he’s proud – he’s seen that I’ve stuck to my guns with it all.”

What was the best thing about being in the Frankenstein Drag Queens? “The very beginning was awesome because it was so fresh – I was working in a furniture store, making five bucks an hour, so I took out a loan to pay for the recording of the first record. The record came out, and we felt like we were above everybody else. Then two months later, the drummer quit. But by the end, nobody gave a shit – where I lived, it had really died. That’s why when Joey called I thought, ‘Fuck it, I’m going to do this Murderdolls thing’.”

There’s a track on the ‘White Wedding’ single called ‘I Take Drugs’. In reality, Wednesday 13’s recreational pursuits extend no further than an impressive capacity for alcohol.

“I’ve never done drugs in my life,” he says with a shrug that says ‘Why should I have done?’. “I guess I’m chickenshit. I’ve taken aspirin, but that’s all. I’ve never taken coke or E. I’ve probably smoked six cigarettes in my whole life. I don’t need it.”

It’s a strange admission from a man who shamelessly admits to a lifelong obsession with the most debauched of genres, cock rock. In fact, Wednesday 13 is so obsessed with cock rock that he’s possibly the only person on the planet right now who could not only namecheck long-forgotten Welsh glam tarts Tigertailz, but also take the time to describe their logo (he does both today). He might not be Mötley Crüe material, but he might just have sneaked into fell Sunset Strip darlings Faster Pussycat.

Have you ever dated a stripper, Wednesday? “Yeah, and it was one of the worst things I’ve ever done too. She tried to kill herself in front of me. I broke up with her, so she ran into my kitchen, pulled out a butcher’s knife and cut her arm open in front of me. I grabbed the knife and grabbed her arm – my fingers went into the cut, and I actually touched her bone. I threw her into the car and drove her to hospital. When we got there, there happened to be a cop in the waiting room. There was some very quick explaining done.”

Ever filmed yourself having sex? “Never. But mirrors are cool.”

Ever been arrested? “No. And I don’t want to. I’m not the kind of guy who walked around going, ‘Fuck the police’. I’m totally pro-cop. I’m so pro-cop, it’s actually ridiculous.”

That’s not a very rock ‘n’ roll thing to say. “Fuck that. I think that being a cop is one of the bravest jobs ever. I couldn’t imagine pulling over some car at three o’clock in the morning, knocking on the window, not knowing who’s in there – you’re fucking with death. I’d never have the balls to do that job. I’m pro-cop all the way. And I don’t care what anyone says.”

What do your neighbours in North Carolina think of you? “Well, the guy on the left is a priest. He’s a nice guy. He helped me take my garbage out the other day, then tried to persuade me to come to church. I had to tell him no, in the politest possible way. The guy on the other side, I just know to say hi to.”

What’s it like being a father? “It changes you. I never planned to have a kid that young, but I would never take it back. My kid is my life. I’d do anything to protect her. I never forget who I am and that I’ve got responsibilities back home. When you go on the road, you turn into a monster, then you come back home and you’re back to normal, Mr Nice Guy.”

What does your girlfriend think of what you do? “She’s known me since I was 15. She’s got bright red hair and more tattoos than I do. She loves it. But when I get home it’s different. I’m just the family guy.”

Unlike Wednesday 13, Nathan Jonas Jordison – Joey to the rest of the world – is everything you expect him to be. Thanks to the phenomenal rise of Slipknot, and the volumes of press that have been written in its wake, it’s difficult to shake the feeling that you already know him inside out.

You don’t so much interview Joey Jordison as try to keep up with him.Sitting in the same position on the same sofa that was, until 20 minutes ago, occupied by Wednesday 13, the drummer and guitarist (he played both on ‘Beyond The Valley Of The Murderdolls’) will spend the next half hour machine-gunning out answers to a barrage of questions as quickly as they come in. He’s loud, assured, articulate and passionate. In fact, the only thing that’s surprising is that he still lives with his mother, in the same house in Iowa that he’s been in since he was two years old.

“It’s a real humble place out in the country,” he says. “I like the quiet. I like getting away from the busy streets and the noise and the chaos. It’s nice to go home to some peace and quiet, cos there’s none of that on the road.”

As we speak, Jordison has at least three projects on the go (there’s Slipknot and Murderdolls, plus an unnamed extreme metal project he’s working on with Necrophagia frontman Killjoy). His explanation is that he gets bored “very fucking easily”. Back home, he has three guitars placed strategically around the house (“one in my room, one in the bathroom and one downstairs”). Ask him what his greatest obsession is, and he replies, “music”. Ask him how he switches off from music, and he looks puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

Do you ever stop thinking about music? “No. It’s the only thing I know how to do well. I can spin upside down on a drum riser in front of 20,000 people with Slipknot, but I can’t go to the mailbox and figure out my mail. I have no sense of normal reality at all. Today I went out shopping. I walked to the fucking store, then I couldn’t figure how to get back. I have to be pointed in the right direction. That’s why I have to have an assistant with me all the time.”

As much as the Murderdolls are an equal partnership – and both Joey Jordison and Wednesday 13 are adamant that it is – there’s no doubt that it’s Jordison who provided the initial impetus. He’s the one who took the raw materials – specifically The Rejects, the glam-punk band he played guitar with intermittently during the ‘90s – and shaped it into something new. He’s the one who marshalled the personnel, calling Wednesday out of the blue and flying him to Des Moines to see if his dream could work. He’s also the one who, by dint of his status as a member of one of the biggest metal bands on the planet, gave the Murderdolls an instant profile.

Are you a control freak, Joey? “Yeah. Well, maybe not a control freak, but I definitely like to have my opinions. People respect me because I have strong opinions. But it’s not about ego – it’s about the end result. That’s all I'm concerned with.”

Are you friends with the people in your bands? “Every one of them. The Slipknot dudes are like my brothers. We’ve been through everything together – we started with jack shit and we became one of the biggest metal bands around. With this band, I don’t know everybody like I know the guys in Slipknot, but I love them all to fucking pieces.”

Does it bother you that the Murderdolls are still seen by some as ‘Joey from Slipknot’s band’? “I don’t think people see it that way anymore. When we first toured, all you’d see is Slipknot shirts. You don’t see that now. Now it’s kids all in red and black. Murderdolls is a fun band.”

What about a party band? As in a band who like to party? “Oh yeah.”

How much alcohol do you get through a week? “Wednesday got through a bottle-and-a-half of Jägermeister last night.”

What about the other trappings of rock ‘n’ roll? The sex, the drugs… “Certain guys in the band like the groupie thing. I don’t necessarily. Wednesday certainly doesn’t.”

Why don’t you like it? “I’ve kind of gone through it already. It’s not even really that good. It doesn’t… (pause) I mean, I’m into making girls do weird shit.”

Such as? “If a girl’s got a cool trick, she can come on the bus for entertainment purposes rather than sexual purposes.”

Give me an example of the sort of entertainment you’re talking about here. “A girl came on the bus once and fucking smoked a cigarette through her pussy, then blew it out of her mouth. I was, like, ‘I wanna see that’.”

You’re friends with Marilyn Manson. What does a night out with the two of you involve? “Actually it’s not as crazy as you might imagine. We might be round his house, watching TV, having a couple of drinks, talking about music. It’s not like you think – chicks and drugs and shit.”

The most common misconception about the Murderdolls, usually held by people who either don’t like the Murderdolls or have never heard them, is that they’re stupid. Murderdolls aren’t stupid. They’re stoopid, like Kiss were stoopid, like Mötley Crüe were stoopid. Yes, that might occasionally involve what Wednesday 13 calls “our idiot tendencies”, whether that means getting cross-eyed drunk on red wine and falling asleep in the lavatory of an airplane (as Wednesday recently did on a flight back from Japan) or starting a bar brawl in Germany (as Joey did when the band were last in Europe).

But ultimately, the Murderdolls are a rock ‘n’ roll band, and that’s precisely what rock ‘n’ roll bands are supposed to do. And now, more than ever before, we need rock ‘n’ roll bands who are willing to do rock ‘n’ roll things.

And that, once again, is why the Murderdolls deserve your attention.

Murderdolls are currently touring the UK with Stone Sour. Check Out There for details. Their new single, ‘White Wedding’, is released on July 14 via Roadrunner.

Gig Of The Week

Murderdolls/Stone Sour

Dates: Birmingham Academy July 9, Glasgow Barrowland 10, Manchester Apollo 11, London Brixton Academy 12. Admission: £16, London £18. Support: Elviss.

Some and see us because… Corey Taylor (vocals, Stone Sour): “Where else can you see five idiots kicking ass and getting naked? It’s going to be great playing with the Murderdolls, they’re a great live band. We can’t wait to get back because Donington was awesome. I got some comments about looking like Joe Elliot backstage, and it was weird playing with Metallica in the background. But that was crazy shit, and I got very drunk.” Wednesday 13 (vocals, Murderdolls): “You will see a rock show, not a nu-metal show with baggy pants, and you will see a group of pretty guys – us. It’ll be cool to play with Stone Sour. I sat down with Corey for the first time at Donington and we talked about movies and shit.”

Look out for… Corey: “A couple of songs that aren’t on the album, and Jim doing his weird goose-step walk. I’ll say no more about that.” Wednesday: “Toothpaste and toothbrushes. Fire and blood. That’s all just part of our show.”

Don’t go to the toilet when… Corey: “We’re playing. Hold your fucking piss. If you go while we’re onstage, I’ll fucking kill you.” Wednesday: “We’re playing. You could miss anything. There’s no telling what we’ll do. You could miss my big, giant gun. Which, incidentally, I don’t think we’ll have any trouble getting through customs. I know people.”

If you see me in the bar afterwards… Corey: “Buy me a Jack and Coke. Everyone knows that. We love hanging out and goofing off, when we’re not getting drunk and stripping.” Wednesday: “Buy me a shot of Jägermeister. Absolutely definitely come and say hello. I always hang out with the kids.”

Brett Callwood

#if you want anything else from this scanned lemme know #interview #murderdolls #wednesday 13 #joey jordison #ben graves #eric griffin #acey slade #kerrang 963 july 12 03 #corey taylor

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hellowhisperingstars · 1 year ago

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Epilogue: The Good Girl

Summary: Things get back to normal but Eddie has a few surprises for you.

Pairing: Rockstar/Bar Owner!Eddie Munson x Baker!Reader

Words: 4.7K

Warnings: 18+, Y/N used, dom/sub dymanics, light bondage, cussing, fluff. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: This is it! The last chapter of Sugar Cloud. Thank you all for taking the time to read this story and showing it love! I appreciate each and every one of you! I am also thinking of doing some time stamps for these two. Please let me know if you are interested!

See you in the next story!

Likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! <3

Previous - Masterlist

Months have passed since that day at the courthouse. All the money your Nana gave you went into savings for a rainy day, while the money your father and the Malloy’s had to pay you went to keeping up the bakery. Tiffany and Ada had been begging you for new ovens and you really wanted to get rid of the old storage coolers to bring in two new bigger ones to hold more orders. So you made it happen. Even the display cases and the cafe tables in the front got a makeover along with new shelves to hold the fresh baked bread that you were going to start selling. It was refreshing to see your shop look all sparkly and new.

You smiled at Marty and Emma as you placed the last basket of freshly baked rolls onto one of the shelves and waved to one of your regulars when you turned to start pulling a call in order from the display cases. Yeah, life had definitely gone back to normal and you were loving it. Though there was a small part of you that was waiting for something to happen, over all the drama of your sham wedding you completely forgot that your Nana was the deed holder to the building that Sugar Cloud was in. With her gone, who owned it? Did your dad have it? Would he find a way to sell it out from under you as payback for embarrassing him the way you did? He didn’t need to be within 100 feet of you to do that. Shaking your head you tossed the idea away. Now wasn’t the time to think about it. This was your new start and you were going to live in the moment with your Rockstar. As soon as he got back from another trip to New York.

Turns out he and the rest of the band had put their album on hold to deal with the mess your father had created and now that it had been taken care of you had urged him to get back to it. Eddie had tried his best to convince you to join him on the trip not wanting a repeat of what happened last time but you really wanted to spend time at the bakery to get back in the swing of things. The night before he left he finally relented and made you promise to call him every day when you got up and every night before you went to bed. You couldn’t wait to see him again and hear their new music when it was done.

Eddie pulled his car into the back parking lot of the bakery and took a moment to look at the building with a grin, his heart pounding with excitement knowing you are just behind those doors. It had been weeks since he last saw you and he was more than ready to have you back in his arms. This trip had gone significantly better and you sounded just as excited to talk to him with every phone call which made him breathe easier as time went by. No more scheming dads and fake fiances to make your life hell while he was away.

Grabbing the demo CD of the new album from the passenger seat he pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped from his car taking the cigarette from his lips and dropping it to the ground so he could smash it under his boot. Making his way through the lot he blew the smoke into the air as he quickly grabbed the door handle and pulled it open so he could enter into the kitchen. Taking a moment to let his eyes adjust he greeted Ada and Tiffany when they looked over at him.

“Welcome back!” Ada smiled from her spot by the sink, a pan and sponge in her hand.

“How’d it go?” Tiffany asked as she pulled a tin from the oven the smell of warm bread filling the air mixing with the sweet scent of cakes. “Did you finish it?”

Waving the CD in the air Eddie smiled at the girls. “Got the demo right here. Probably got a few tweaks to make, songs to cut, that kinda thing but I wanted some more opinions before we make changes. Where’s my girl?”

“Can’t wait to hear it!” Ada said, putting the pan in the drying rack. “She’s up front.”

“Thanks,” He grinned and started towards the door that would lead him to you. Eddie smiled as he ducked into the front of the store and leaned against the door frame as he watched you move around behind the counters, your apron around your waist as you pulled items from the fridge displays to pack orders to give to the customers in front of you. Back in your element. Moving up to you he grabbed your waist and leaned down to kiss the side of your head before he spoke into your ear. “Miss me?”

Jumping at the sudden touch you turned your head quickly and let out a sound of excitement when you saw who it was and almost dropped the box in your hands. Putting it on the counter you turned and jumped into his arms. “You’re back!”

Laughing, Eddie pulled you as close as he could, burying his nose in your hair. “Hi baby. Fuck, I missed you.”

“Missed you so much.” You mumbled into his neck as he swayed you a little before pulling you back to give you a proper kiss. The feel of his plush lips on yours made you sigh in contentment. Moving back you looked into his eyes. “Did you finish it?”

“Got it right here.” He smiled showing you the CD. “Wanted you to be the first one to hear it.”

Smiling, you looked at the plain white disc excitement bubbling up in you with the need to hear what the band had done, when a small cough got your attention. Turning around you stared wide eyed at the customer who just chuckled at you, they didn’t seem annoyed thankfully and you quickly dropped your arms from around Eddie, moving back to do your job. “I’m so sorry about that. My boyfriend just came back into town and I couldn't help myself.”

Your customer waved your worry away with a smile. “It’s no problem, I’m almost done then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Eddie grinned at you before kissing the back of your head, “I‘m gonna grab some coffee, is that okay?”

“Of course baby.” You smiled as you went back to packing an eclair into the lavender box that was once again in your hand. Eddie turned, placing the CD on the counter for later, and started to fiddle with the coffee machine behind you when a few different young muffled voices called from outside.

“Holy shit!”

“Is that Eddie Munson?!”

“No way! What's he doing here?!”

“He’s from Hawkins you idiot! The whole band is!”

Everyone looked to see a group of three young teens standing on the sidewalk outside looking through the glass of your shop window. They were staring wide eyed at Eddie who waved at them with a shit eating grin before he turned and finished his coffee.

“You have fans, babe.” You chuckle smiling over your shoulder at him, giving him a wink before you hand the now full box to the customer in front of you after they paid, apologizing again for the interruption. Turning to look at the window you waved the three teens into the shop, a little laugh leaving you as they stumbled inside, holding the door open for the customer to exit. The kids who looked like little rockers themselves, with their long hair and black Corroded Coffin band shirts, they were completely starstruck by your boyfriend. It made you giggle. Looking over at Eddie, you bumped his hip with yours when he came to lean against the counter next to you.

Grinning, Eddie took a sip of his coffee before he greeted the boys. “Heya fellas.”

“You’re Eddie Munson.” One of the boys stated his eyes still wide as he stared at Eddie. “Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin.”

“That’s me!” He laughed, placing his coffee down on the counter behind you. “You guys want an autograph?”

“Hell yeah!”

“That would be awesome!”

You watched, giggling as the boys freaked out practically rushing the counter as you handed Eddie some blank receipt paper and a marker from the register before he gestured them to the new cafe tables to get out of your way. Turning back to the boy you smiled at them, “You boys want a treat? It’s on the house.”

The three boys were incredibly polite and thankful for the free sweets and they sat at the table with Eddie for a while, after they got his autographs, just talking. He was so nice to them, answering questions and getting excited when they told him they also had started a band. You think it’s because they reminded him of himself and the rest of the band when they were around that age. It was sweet and made you smile. That’s something you love the most about metalheads, sure they look scary and unapproachable, but deep down they are the nicest dorks you could ever meet.

At one point you moved around the counter to hand Eddie a fresh cup of coffee since his original one had been forgotten when the boys came in. He introduced you to the kids as his girl as he pulled you onto his lap by your waist, telling them that you own the place, and they complimented the treats they had.

You sat there for a few minutes chatting before a new customer came in and you excused yourself to take care of them since both Marty and Emma were on their lunch break. Greeting the soccer mom you started on her order as the four metalheads chatted for a little longer.

“Thank you babe.” You smiled as you looked up at him. “I think you deserve a reward.”

Later that night it was just you and Eddie in the bakery, everyone having gone home to their families earlier in the evening, it was as you were standing at the kitchen island prepping some ingredients for tomorrow's haul of freshly baked goods that you suddenly got a craving for cinnamon bread. Fuck that sounded so good right now. Moving around the kitchen quickly you got your supplies and started on your bread.

While you were doing that Eddie had just finished sweeping up the crumbs on the shop floor, wiping down the café tables, and double checking that the front door was locked with the closed sign turned to let everyone know to come back tomorrow. Putting the broom back into its designated spot he wandered back into the kitchen to see you wrist deep in the bread dough as you had just dropped it from the bowl onto the floured countertop. “Front’s all clean and locked up, pretty girl.”

“Oh?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned on the counter by the door. “And what would that be? A cookie? A cupcake? Oh or maybe one of those blondies I love so much?”

“I was thinking more like a kiss…” You smirked at him, beckoning him over with a nod of your head before you gave an over-exaggerated sigh and dropped your shoulders as you continued to knead the dough. “Buuuuut if you want a cookie, I guuuuess yo-”

“No. Nonononono,” Pushing off the counter he waved his hands in the air as if he could toss the idea of not wanting a kiss away from him and rushed over silencing you with a kiss, his hands cupping your cheeks, his nose brushing against yours. “Kisses are good. Kisses are great.”

Laughing, you lean back your hands still in the bread dough and give him one final peck before you turn around to knead the dough again for a few minutes.

“Whatcha making baby?” Eddie asked as he moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chin landing on your shoulder.

“Cinnamon bread. Thought it would be good breakfast bread for tomorrow. Cinnamon bread french toast is the best.” You exclaim, looking over your shoulder at him.

“That sounds good.” He smiled, kissing the side of your head still watching you knead the dough until you rolled it into a good sized ball.

Grabbing the clean bowl you greased it up with a little bit of oil before you plopped the dough ball inside, placed a towel over the top, and moved it to a warm spot in the kitchen to let it rise. “Now we leave that for an hour.”

Leaning back against the counter again, Eddie watched while you collected the mixing bowl, measuring cup, and spoons from the counter turning to place them in the sink to clean. Grabbing the sponge you move back to the island to wipe the countertop down, before you turn back to the sink to wash your hands a look of worry on your face as you start to think of losing the bakery again. Glancing around the kitchen you frowned a little, you loved it here, you lived here, you didn’t want to lose it. Where would you go if you had to leave? Scrunching your brows together you dropped the sponge back into the sink resting your hands on it as you thought.

“I know that look,” Eddie said, sidling up to you. Bumping his arm into yours he bent down a little to look at you. “That’s your ‘I’m worried’ face. What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“It’s stupid,” You said, shaking your head as you turned the sink on to wash the dishes you made. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“No, tell me.” Eddie mumbled giving you that look that made your thighs clench, that ‘you’re going to be in trouble if you don’t tell me’ look, one of his brows going up to hide under his bangs. “Come on, out with it.”

Sighing, you shut the water off again, dropping the sponge into the sink. “I was worrying about the future of the bakery.”

Moving so he could face you better, his brows scrunched together. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” Waving your wet hand in the air you looked over at him. “I just realized earlier that I don’t know what happened to the deed to the building after Nana passed and I’m scared that as like a last fuck you dad is going to sell it out from under me. I don’t want to lose this place, it’s my home, it’s my livelihood, I have worked too hard to let him fuck me over anymore.”

“Well that's an easy fix babe. He can’t,” Eddie smirked, smiling down at you. After all that had happened he had totally forgotten to tell you about the deal he had with your Grandma. “I own the building.”

That stopped you in your tracks and you looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

Nodding, he picked at a string on your shirt. “When your grandma was in the hospital she called the bar and asked me to come see her. So we met up, chatted a little, and we made a deal that she would sell me the building to keep it out of your fathers hands as long as I continue to let you live and work here. I said yes, I wanted to protect you anyway I could, so I bought the building from her. Your dad can't touch it.”

You floundered for a moment as you tried to think of something to say but all you could get out was a breathy. “Holy shit.”

Laughing a little Eddie tugged on your shirt pulling you closer to him not caring that your hands were still wet from washing your dishes when you grabbed the front of his button down shirt. “Not mad at me are you? For doing that behind your back.”

Shaking your head you placed your forehead against his chest, a little smile on your face as you started to chuckle a bit. “No. No, I’m not mad at you. I'm really happy actually. But it looks like you’re my landlord now and I will be paying you rent for this you know. In full and on time.”

“The only payment I expect is you.” Eddie laughed, his hand cupping the back of your head tangling his fingers in your hair to pull your head back a little so he had access to your neck, his words breathy against your skin. “Preferably in the form of your ass in my bed, tied up, and struggling.”

You let out a gasped moan as Eddie latched his lips onto your neck sucking a hickey into your skin. His teeth give you a little nip as he pulls back to look at you. You blinked up at him, your breathing a little heavy now and you squirmed a little in his hold, your thighs rubbing together at the thought of you bound and waiting for him to take you. Taking in a slow breath you smiled at him. “How about I pay you with rent and my ass. That way I don’t feel like a freeloader in your building and you still get to be mean to me.”

“Sweetheart,” He said, his voice dropping down into this dom tone that he liked to use when he was being serious with you. “As your boyfriend and your dom I want to help you. So let me deal with the payments for the building. You just focus on the bakery. I have more than enough money to take care of this place, just tell me when somethings wrong and I’ll handle it.”

“Eddie,” You started to say something else but he placed his fingers over your lips to silence you before he dragged his fingertips down your chin to lift your head up with his knuckles.

“Let me take care of you.” He said looking into your eyes before he leaned down to kiss you one more time and against your lips he mumbled. “And if you fight me about this anymore I will drag you upstairs and tan your hide with my belt. You understand me?”

Swallowing the saliva that collected on your tongue you nodded your head, even more excited now. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl,” Eddie smiles as she gives your ass a firm slap that makes you gasp again. Looking over towards the bowl with the ball of dough he smiled. “How much longer for your bread to rise?”

Glancing over at it, you looked at the clock, and shrugged your shoulders a little as you started to finish up the dishes you still had in the sink. “Maybe another thirty minutes? Then I have to roll it out, fill it with cinnamon sugar, make it into loafs, and then let it rise for another hour to an hour and a half.”

“Then since we have time…” Eddie said as he wandered back into the front to grab the demo CD from the counter behind the register where he had left it and turned back into the kitchen holding it up in the air so you could see it. “I would love your opinion on this.”

“Oh! Yes! Put it in, put it in!” You nodded enthusiastically pointing towards the stereo that sat in the cabinet by the backdoor.

Laughing, the metalhead moved around the island and fiddled with the stereo until he was able to pull out the mixed CD you had created and pushed the demo in and pressed play. The first few seconds were quiet until you heard the strings of a guitar being plucked at a fast pace, then the drums, and the rest of the band started and the very first song on the new album bumped through the speakers. Nodding your head to the beat, you smiled over at Eddie when his voice came out over the speakers.

By the time you had the two cinnamon sugared loaves of bread into their designated pans and set aside to rise again you were halfway through the album. Washing your hands again you turned wiping your hands on your apron to look at Eddie who had one arm crossed over his chest while the other was held up to his lips, his thumbnail between his teeth, he looked nervous about your reaction to the song. It was about two lovers who were separated but were able to come back together. When the song was ending you heard your voice start to fade in as the guitar riff faded out. It was a simple little sound bite of you saying ‘I fucking I love you, you dork’ and then you laughing. You remembered that conversation from the first week he was gone. He had called you one night and it seems he had recorded a part of it.

“I wrote that for you.” He said looking at you. “Gonna call it ‘Souls Intertwined’ or something like that. Titles are still being worked on.”

Walking over to Eddie you put your hands on his chest, a smile on your face as he put his hands around your waist. “You wrote that about us? And you used my voice?!”

“I did!” He nodded as he laughed. Pulling you flush against him he looked into your eyes. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it!” You nodded your head. “I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiled, placing his forehead against yours, his eyes squinting a little as he tried to recall something. “How long did you say for the bread to rise this round?”

“About an hour, hour and a half.” You said looking over at the bread and then back to him.

The smile that grew on his face was one of trouble as he started to kiss your face, first your forehead, then your nose, your cheeks, and then your chin. “Good, good. Then we have more than enough time. So why don’t you get your cute butt upstairs, get undressed, and into first position, I’ll be right behind you.”

Nodding your head you bite your bottom lip sensually, taking a few steps back towards the stairs to your apartment and right when he had turned around to turn off the stereo in the cabinet you took the chance and smacked him straight on the ass, a laugh leaving you when he turned around to stare at you in surprise.

“Really?” He said turning and slowly making his way towards you, one foot in front of the other. His hands come up as if to grab you. “You are in so much trouble right now little girl.”

“Me?” You whisper at him, your hands going up to your chest and you make your eyes impossibly wide as you feign innocence as you start to back up some more. The game was on and quickly you turned around running towards the stairs and then up them. The sound of his feet chasing you through the kitchen and up the stairs making you laugh hysterically as you swung your apartment door open running to stand behind your dining room table by your bedroom door.

“Oh sweetheart,” Eddie said as he ran into the room after you, coming to a stop on the other side of the table, his hands landing on the top so he could lean towards you with that look in his eye that you loved so much. “You’re only making this harder on yourself. You know that right?”

“Mhm,” You nodded with a smug smile, watching him carefully as you both moved around the table first one way then the other making sure something was between you at all times. It was a cat and mouse game and you were completely content with being the mouse. At one point you even ripped your apron off and threw it at him to distract him but he just batted it out of the air like it was nothing.

This only lasted about three turns before he faked you out and when you went right to dodge his movement on the opposite side he quickly stepped left grabbing you around your waist and hoisting you onto his shoulder giving your ass a firm punishing smack. “Gotcha. You are in for it now.”

Laughing you struggle in his grip, your hands on his back as you try to push yourself up. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“No you’re not.” He snarked, kicking your bedroom door open. Eddie moved to your bed and dropped you down on it so he could straddled your waist, making sure to keep his weight off of you, and grabbed your wrists pulling him above your head. “Now are you going to take your punishment or are you going to be a little brat that I have to tie up?”

You shrug a little with a smirk on your face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I see,” He nodded, letting your arms go so he could pull your shirt over your head leaving you in just your bra and jeans. The pick on your collar sitting in the hollow of your throat. Leaning back he looked down his nose at you and pointed at you with one finger and gave you a serious look, “Do not move from this spot.”

Nodding, you bite your lower lip a little as you look up at him. “Yes, Sir.”

Smirking, he got off the bed and moved to the duffle that he had grabbed from his car earlier in the day, unzipping it slowly to mess with you. He took his time moving a few things around mostly for dramatic effect, cause he knew exactly what he was looking for. His fingers grazed across the red rope that sat waiting in his bag. “Now, I was going to tell you that because you've been so good lately I was planning on graduating you from cuffs but since you were being such a bad girl I don't know if you deserve it.”

That piqued your interest quite a bit and you fought the urge to sit up on your elbows. Quickly you say, “No please, I'll be good. I promise. I’ll be good.”

“Mhm. You gotta prove it to me.” Eddie hummed as he grabbed the rope from the duffle and stood up, unbundling it in a showy way so you could see the end of it fall to the floor with a little thud. He smirked when your eyes widened and you took in a deep breath of excitement, your thighs clenching together again. He could watch you squirm like this all day. “Come here sweet girl.”

Quickly you got off the bed and moved towards him. Your eyes were stuck on the rope.

“Eyes on me.” He muttered and when you looked up at him he smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled up at him. You really did love this man.

Holding one finger up in the air he twirled it around in a circle. “Turn around babe. Arms behind your back.”

Slowly you turned, putting your arms behind you, and you hummed when you felt the first brush of the rope against your skin. It was softer than you expected. Closing your eyes you let out a little sigh of contentment as he expertly tied your wrists. Soon you felt him push a finger between your skin and the rope making sure it wasn't going to hurt you.

“Too tight?”

“No, Sir.” You said, shaking your head. It was just right.

You closed your eyes as he wrapped his arms around you, one hand splayed out against your stomach while the other wandered up to cup your chin pushing it up so it was leaning against his chest.

“Safeword?” He whispered into your ear.

“Red.” You breathed out

“Do you trust me?” He asked as he started kissing your neck, leaving little nips as he went.

“With my life.”

“Good girl.”

Tag List:

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #dom!eddie munson #sub!reader #rockstar!eddie #barowner!eddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things fanfiction #st s4 #sugar cloud series #multi chapter

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thelensofyashunews · 1 month ago

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PEACH PIT NEW ALBUM MAGPIE OUT TODAY ; SHARE NEW SINGLE “AM I YOUR GIRL”

Vancouver’s Peach Pit has just unveiled their new album, Magpie, via Columbia Records. With expansive arrangements and heartfelt songwriting, the eleven tracks on the LP find the band—lead singer Neil Smith, guitarist Chris Vanderkooy, bassist Peter Wilton, and drummer Mikey Pascuzzi—exploring classic influences while crafting a sound that's unmistakably their own. With three albums and two EPs under their belt the band has over a billion streams, and yet the new record, touching on themes of confronting divergent paths and making hard choices in life, represents some of their strongest music yet.

Today the band also shares a new single, the hypnotic and indie-pop “Am I Your Girl.” Of the song, Smith notes, “We’ve had ‘Am I Your Girl’ sitting and collecting dust in the back of our songbook for a long time now. It was written back in 2018 and over the next six years we recorded countless demos and three studio versions before we finally ended up with a record that we liked. The song is from the point of view of an old love, someone that I pined over for many years. On and off and in between other relationships, I would always think of her. The song is her asking if she is on my mind again, just like old times.”

Peach Pit are celebrating the release of Magpie on the road as they hit select record stores and radio stations on the East Coast. Tonight they do an in-store signing at Newbury Comics in Cambridge, MA at 5pm. The string of appearances also takes them to New York City’s Rough Trade on October 28 for an in-store at 4pm. This winter and spring the band will head out on a world-wide tour of Australia, Europe and the UK including a stop at the O2 Academy Brixton in London. Watch this space for more dates across the globe to be announced in the coming weeks. Currently announced dates are listed below.

Peach Pit’s fourth album is a masterclass in expansive arrangement and deeply felt songwriting—a winning formula that only continues the incredible trajectory the band’s been on since their star-making debut EP Sweet FA in 2016. The eleven songs captured on Magpie find the quartet—lead singer Neil Smith, guitarist Chris Vanderkooy, bassist Peter Wilton, and drummer Mikey Pascuzzi—diving deeper into classic sounds while honing a musical style that entirely feels like their own.

While making Magpie, Peach Pit drew inspiration from the Beatles’ classic and distinct approach to melody, as well as the multifarious sounds explored within the Fab Four’s various side projects. The end result is Peach Pit’s most sonically kaleidoscopic record yet; from the deeply felt indie-rock sound they’ve already become well-known for to the psychedelic touches that surfaced on records like You and Your Friends and From 2 to 3.

The record’s distinctive title was partly inspired by witnessing flocks of magpies on tour in Australia, which served as creative inspiration for Smith’s songwriting. Back home in Vancouver, some further research led him to discover an old poem concerning the peculiar, beautiful bird:“One for sorrow, Two for luck, Three for a wedding, Four for death; Five for silver, Six for gold; Seven for a secret, Not to be told; Eight for heaven, Nine for hell, And ten for the devil’s own sell.”

“I thought it was interesting how these birds can be good and bad omens,” he explains, before elaborating on how his own decision to quit drinking years ago dovetailed with the symbolic subject matter captured on the record’s wild-eyed, guitar solo-laden title track. “I came up with this character—a person that represented the left turn I could’ve taken in my life,” Smith states. “He represented the worst-case scenario if I hadn't stopped drinking and partying, and I connected him to that poem’s message about the good and bad in life. It all depends on which road you take.”

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sparklingsjewel · 2 months ago

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Emeralds showcased on the IAC 2024 Gold and Diamond Conference

Emeralds lately showcased its commitment to sustainable mining practices at the Initiatives in Art and Culture (IAC) 2024 Gold and Diamond Conference in New York. As a player of Precious Brazil, Belmont Emeralds stands proud in promoting responsible mining practices, specializing in environmental duty and social impact. Wrap your fingers in the enchanting beauty of emerald band rings, where elegance meets everlasting charm.

IAC 2024 Gold and Diamond Conference

The IAC 2024 Gold and Diamond Conference served as a extensive platform for Belmont Emeralds to talk about sustainable mining practices. The occasion featured a panel titled “Comparative Approaches to Retaining Greater Value in Producing Countries,” where Belmont Emeralds’ CEO, Marcelo Ribeiro, shared treasured insights. The dialogue emphasized revolutionary and accountable practices within the gemstone and jewellery industry, positioning Brazil as a frontrunner in sustainable mining.

Marcelo Ribeiro’s Contributions:

Emphasized the importance of environmental stewardship in mining emeralds.

Highlighted Belmont Emeralds’ initiatives in decreasing environmental impact and selling social equity.

Shared achievement stories of network engagement and empowerment thru responsible mining practices.

Mining Emeralds: A Sustainable Approach

Belmont Emeralds’ dedication to sustainable mining practices sets a excessive popular within the industry. The business enterprise’s tasks ensure that mining emeralds is performed with minimum environmental effect and most social benefits. Some key practices consist of:

Reforestation Efforts: Belmont has preserved approximately three,700 acres of the Atlantic Rain Forest and planted over 20,000 saplings, assisting nearby biodiversity and natural world.

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To research extra approximately Belmont Emeralds’ dedication to sustainability, visit Belmont’s Sustainability Page.

Conclusion

Belmont Emeralds’ technique to sustainable mining and its contributions to the IAC 2024 Gold and Diamond Conference show the organisation’s dedication to main by using instance in the gemstone enterprise. By that specialize in environmental duty, community help, and innovative practices, Belmont Emeralds sets a benchmark for mining emeralds ethically and sustainably.

For those interested in learning more about how to shop for emeralds or figuring out actual emeralds, Belmont Emeralds gives comprehensive resources and guidance. Visit Belmont Emeralds’ Sustainability Page, Belmont’s Education Page, and Belmont Sparkle for more information.

Belmont Emeralds maintains to polish as a beacon of sustainability and moral mining, making sure that each emerald gem tells a story of responsible sourcing and commitment to excellence.

Also Read : How to Pair Your Oval Wedding Band

Everything You Need To Know About Evil Eye Jewelry

#emerald anniversary band #emerald wedding bands

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lavianojewelerswarwick · 1 year ago

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labgrowndiamondusallc · 2 years ago

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7 Best Lab-Grown Jewelry Pieces Of 2022

Trends come and go but sparkling diamonds never go out of style. The invention of lab-created diamonds has been a blessing in disguise to humans and the planet. Earlier miners used to move 250 tons of the earth to obtain a single carat of a diamond, but now, with the help of technological advancements, the precious stones are created in laboratories that mimic natural conditions.

Lab-grown diamonds have been popular for a while. They are available in various cuts, carats, and sizes with the same clarity and luster as a natural diamond. They are known as the purest form of diamonds because, unlike natural diamonds, lab-grown diamonds do not have any inclusions in them.

Eco diamonds have been selling like hotcakes over the recent years. From engagement rings to wedding rings, anniversary gifts to promise rings. Lab-grown diamonds are everywhere. So here’s a rewind of LGD jewelry trends in 2022 that you will love to know.

Ritani Knife Edge Lab-Grown Diamond Engagement Ring

A vintage diamond ring is a timeless ring that one can experience. It is an eclectic design from the past, created with a modern touch. The 18K yellow gold, prong setting, and diamond-encrusted knife-edge style give the ring its charm, while the oval-shaped diamond adds a modern flair. Ritani is behind the inception of this phenomenal lab-diamond ring that is now loved by many across the globe.

Lightbox Lab-Grown Blue & White Diamond Cluster Bolo Bracelet

This cluster bracelet will be a minimalistic yet chic addition to your jewelry box. Made in 14K white gold featuring a blue lab-grown diamond in USA, this piece owes its beginning to Blue Nile.

Clean Origin Starburst Diamond Pendant

Pendant necklaces offer a touch of simplicity and sparkle to any outfit. This classic pendant design adds a bit of glimmer with its unique starburst pattern. It is made with 17 lab-grown round diamonds available in 14K white gold, yellow gold, and rose gold. This masterpiece is crafted by Clean Origin.

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Glamorous Linked Tennis Necklace

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Brilliant Earth Luxe Ellora Lab Diamond Ring

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Inner Spirit Medallion Pendant

An elegant fine gold-plated chain necklace with chunky links. It is a bohemian-style gold medallion pendant necklace with a single baguette stone as its centerpiece. Another popular creation by VRAI.

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Original Source: https://lgdusallc.blogspot.com/2022/12/7-best-lab-grown-jewelry-pieces-of-2022.html

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inspiteallthedanger · 2 years ago

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I’m not the crazy anon and I very much don’t think Yoko killed John. But with all the chatter about her at the moment, I wondered if you thought she was an overall good thing for John or not? What are your thoughts on her outside of the end of John’s life and the estates handling of things?

Gosh, big questions here today. Going under the cut to spare you all...

This is a tough one, because sometimes when we look at this issue, it's so easy to analyse it in a vacuum. Like, if Yoko hadn't arrived on the scene none of the rest of the things that she and John did together would have happened. But, I don't think that's true. John isn't always given agency/the blame in a way I think isn't fair to him or Yoko.

John was an addict before he met her. John was looking for a boat to 'get him away from the Paul boat'. He was restless and depressed and searching for something new. He was worried about his weight. He was frustrated with the direction of The Beatles. He was an absent father and terrible at keeping in contact with his his friends. He was a codependent person that liked someone that was willing to give themselves up entire to be with him.

All of which means a lot of the hugely negative stuff we associate with her was already going to happen. It’s also impossible to say if it would have been better or worse without her. Magic Alex wasn’t a better influence, and it’s not like Paul was an option.

So then we're left to look at what she did for some things we might be able to pull apart and be sure of what she did influence. Like his art.

She was pushing him in a few directions, there. And really, it's subjective on whether you like them. Firstly, the raw honesty that John was always into she encouraged more and more. He’d written Julia before they were together, but would he have recorded it? She also pushed the idea of the artist as the art. So that's where we get things like Sometime in New York City, but we also get Ballad of John and Yoko. Obviously New Virgins/The wedding album doesn’t happen. Although, again, John was not into being weird and out there, so I can’t imagine whatever he decided to do, wouldn’t have been slightly controversial because that’s who he is.

On a personal level, I like a lot of what they got up to. The acorns and the bed ins. But I'm really not a fan of the way she had a tendency to put down John's work before her as 'selling-out'. It clearly didn't help with John wanting to break free from the band and it also... isn't true and I just find that whole vibe annoying and snobbish. That said, then arguing in interviews about it is very funny to me.

As to their relationship more broadly; she was clearly just as co-depent as John. So, them doing drugs together and also wanting to completely subsume themselves into one person was a joint decision. This isn't, obviously, healthy. But it was a decision they came to together and were just as bad as each other. But it's hard to say it's 'good' or positive. Even though I think that’s exactly why John went to her at his lowest. She did give him the security to get back into the swing of things. Coping mechanisms aren’t inherently bad until they start impacting the rest of your life negatively (and it obviously did).

As for: did she cut him off from everyone he loved or save his life? I mean, this is virtually impossible to answer. We know for a fact that she kept Paul and others from getting through to him at certain times. We also know that when she was with him, Julian was cut out. Again, is this entirely her? It can't be. John could have fought to see his son. He didn't. Would you generally hope your partner encourages your good behaviours and discourages the bad? Sure, that's a fair assessment. But we don’t know how much John was doing the same to her.

But, I've said before that I think John needed a break from the business. It gave him a perspective on things he probably needed and I believe he loved being a dad and with Sean. Again, there are ways that he could have done this that would have been healthier. We also only have a very limited number of sources for the Dekota years and none of them are reliable. So, I’m left to assume that it was somewhere down the middle. He was sometimes deeply depressed because that was John’s personality but he was also sometimes happy and content. Again, there are ways that she could have encouraged more healthy behaviour during that time, but I don’t know how much that should fall on someone’s spouse.

On Yoko herself, I enjoy her music, I think her Plastic Ono Band album is really interesting and has some really fascinating things going on. I probably prefer her Double Fanstsy stuff, once she'd got a little more commercial. I can't really comment on her art, because it's not an area I know a lot about. But, that said, she was really, really well respected. She was a big deal in the art world well before John, and I do think sometimes that's overlooked.

For what it's worth, I get John's attraction to Yoko. She's hot, she's smart, funny and intensely intelligent. Her whole thing works on me, so, I've never understood the hate really. I don’t like the suggestion that she’s this dower, humourless bitch. Like. Why on Earth would John be with her, were that the case?

While I don't buy into the myth that the Lennon Estate puts out about their relationship and how perfect it was. I believe they wouldn't have stayed together. But, they did love one another fiercely. Yoko made John a lot of money. She gave him the confidence to create some beautiful art. She also brought out some of his worst qualities and made a lot of them worse.

I'm also, fwitw, not a fan of the estate's view of who John was. But, I sort of get why she went the root she did.

So there we have it. There’s obviously books you could write about her. But that’s the brief overview of my thoughts about her.

#beth rambles

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dimitrescus-bitch · 4 years ago

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Special Occasion (Casey Novak x Reader)

You smiled as you looked at the small tattoo on the inside of your finger. Casey had the same one on hers, hidden by the wedding bands the two of you now wore. Outside of work, Casey didn’t really keep her ring on. Both of you liked the tattoos you’d gotten before the idea of Casey going back to the DA’s office had even come up. It had definitely rushed the two of you along in your plans for a future together, but you didn’t mind it. You loved Casey and were confident that the two of you would spend the rest of your lives together.

“Ready to go?” You heard Casey’s voice before you registered that the door had been opened. She was standing in the doorway, her head tilted as she looked down at you. You stood up from the couch and walked over to her, smiling as you took her hand in yours.

“You’re early,” you said, impressed. You and Casey had been together the first time she was ADA here in New York. Back then, you hadn’t been able to pull her away from her work. Now, she was still busy, but at least she didn’t always put your relationship on the backburner. She did important work with the SVU, but you needed her to be there for you sometimes too.

“Tonight is a special night. I couldn’t be late for our first wedding anniversary dinner,” Casey told you. You would have forgiven her, this was a big case and Casey was still trying to get her footing back after being gone. “Speaking of late, we might make it on time if we go now. Traffic was starting to pick up a bit when I got here.”

“Lead the way Mrs. Novak,” you told your wife. Casey locked up the house behind the two of you and then walked you out to the car. It seemed kind of stupid to own a car in New York, but neither you nor Casey wanted to just sell it when you moved back to the city. It’d done the too of you a lot of good keeping it around, especially since you did have places to go throughout the day normally.

“Table for two, under Novak,” Casey told the host at the restaurant once you’d arrived. He grabbed two menus and led the two of you back to a table. It was nice, candles, soft and romantic music, and a complimentary glass of champagne. It wasn’t anything overly fancy, but it was definitely good champagne. “What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” you said as you glanced over the menu. “You?”

“They have some interesting looking pasta dishes, but that steak looks good. I suggest the lobster for you.” You didn’t miss the wink at the end of Casey’s suggestion, a nod towards one of your first dates together. Now, there was a joke that Casey was definitely getting lucky if the two of you went anywhere and you ordered a lobster dish.

“I don’t have to get an expensive meal for you to get some babe. It’s our anniversary, a special occasion,” you said and Casey connected the dots. She quirked her eyebrow at you, wondering if that was what you meant. You gave her a small nod and she immediately started to blush a bit.

“Damn,” Casey’s voice was huskier than usual. She bit her lip and waved a waiter over for the two of you to order. She ended up getting the steak and you decided to order the oysters. The two of you split a dessert and then went home together. You drove home since Casey had a few glasses of wine and both glasses of champagne. “Can we do the thing tomorrow?”

“I don’t know Case, that’s not as special as today,” you teased her a little. Casey pouted and just opened her arms as the two of you sat on the bed. You leaned into Casey’s arms and she wrapped them around you as she pulled you back against the bed. Casey pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, your dress having been shed on the floor when you first entered the bedroom with your wife. “We can do that tomorrow if you’d like.”

“I’ll even call in,” Casey told you. You smiled at the thought of her taking a whole day off to just have sex with you. “Now, let’s just lay here. It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten to enjoy a nice night in with my wife.”

#Casey Novak #casey novak x reader #casey novak imagine #casey novak imagines #Law & Order: SVU #svu imagine #SVU #svu imagines #svu x reader

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cdt12345 · 4 years ago

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I just finished answering one of these and now I wanna know yours. Top 10 straight OTPs?

1.) Ben and Leslie - Parks and Recreation

If this was my OTPs list, they’d be second after Gallavich, but since this is straight couples, they have to be my number one. Amy Poehler and Adam Scott had great chemistry. Adam Scott played a lot of creepy/bad guys before this. So, when he showed up in Pawnee, I didn’t know what to make of him when he came in at the end of season 2. Pretty quickly I realized I was not only going to love the character of Ben Wyatt but we finally found Leslie Knope’s perfect match! I’ll never forget the moment I knew I was going to ship them. It was at the Freddy Spaghetti concert when Ben helped Leslie after he was against doing the concert in the first place. As soon as I saw Ben give Leslie that look as she walked away, I knew I was all in with this ship. That’s all it took! Leslie finally met someone who got her, admired her, was in awe of her, and was so supportive of her and her ambitions. They were both willing to put their jobs at risk by making their relationship known. And if you know Leslie Knope, her job is her life. Leslie’s love for Ben’s butt is also something I loved. Their love for each other is so beautiful and one of my favorite things about this amazing show.

2.) Ava and Boyd - Justified

Joelle Carter and Walton Goggins did amazing work together onscreen. Ava and Boyd Crowder did not have the most conventional start to their romantic relationship, seeing as Ava was married to Boyd’s brother. For me, that is a deal-breaker! I know they’re not blood relatives but it’s still weird to me when in-laws get together. In the pilot, we learn Ava has just killed her husband in self-defense and Boyd was supposed to be killed off in that episode. The powers that be, loved both Joelle and Walton so much they brought them back for more and they were series regulars for the rest of the series run. To keep Ava part of the storyline, they had Boyd staying at Ava’s house in season 2. It all evolved from there. I had no intention of shipping these two during season 1, but by season 2, I was all about Ava and Boyd getting together. They were the true definition of a power couple. They even had matching bullet scares on their chest! They stood side by side as a strong force against anyone who tried to overpower them or intimidate them in their growing criminal enterprise. Boyd really saw Ava, treated her with respect, and saw her as his equal. They had a long history, even went to the same high school together. I always love a couple who has known each other since they were kids. I never thought I would root for current or former in-laws, but it was hard not to fall in love with them.

3.) Jess and Nick - New Girl

I knew I was going to ship them from the very first episode. They are everything I love in a good ship, complete opposites who bring out the best in each other, who are also friends. Over the years, any time Jess would describe her perfect man, she was always describing Nick without realizing it. Once she was asked what her dream guy would be, and she said Walter Matthau in Grumpy Old Men and Nick fits that perfectly. He really is like a grumpy old man. There was nothing these two wouldn’t do for each other. One example of this was when Jess burns her finger on a cigarette lighter in the car and Nick puts his finger in the cigarette lighter so they would be in the same amount of pain. Who even does that?! I was so happy when they finally had their first kiss and when they officially got together. Those are some of my favorite episodes when they were finally dating. Any time they dated anyone else it became even more clear how much better they are together. They never fit with anyone else as well as they fit together. They really were perfect for each other.

4.) Corey and Topanga - Boy Meets World

Corey and Topanga are the OG’s of childhood sweethearts on TV. They’ve known each other their whole lives and were very believable in their genuine love for each other. It’s not always easy to believe that people who get married that young can make it work, but these two always seemed to defy those odds. They got married during their sophomore year of college. Today I would be like whoa that’s too soon to get married! But they felt so right together, I believe I would still think they made the right choice. I may be biased because I grew up watching this show and I was even younger than them at that time, but it always felt like they were meant to be. I still remember what a big deal their wedding was. My friends and I were so excited about that episode. They clearly did do the right thing because the show came back as Girl Meets World, which was more focused on their daughter than them, so of course, I wasn’t planning on watching all that. The only good thing to come out of that reboot, for me, was to get confirmation that Corey and Topanga were still together and had two kids.

5.) Arnold and Helga - Hey Arnold!

This was a very one-sided crush on Helga’s part for years! This was another show I grew up on. I shipped them so hard because Helga was obsessively in love with Arnold. It definitely wasn’t a healthy obsession, but she really loved him. It was hard not to root for her. She fell in love with him when he was the first to notice her and be nice to her on their first day of preschool. A part of me could identify with her at that time in my life. I was in 5th grade and was experiencing my first love too. She was always so mean to Arnold because she was terrified for anyone to even suspect she had a major crush on him. The best way to describe Arnold is through Helga’s own words, he’s “a funny little football-headed kid with a good heart but no sense of reality”. Helga was realistic and tough but very poetic and sweet in private. In 2017, when Hey Arnold! The Jungle Movie came out, I was really hoping she would finally come clean with Arnold about her feelings. It FINALLY happened! That was 21 years in the making. Talk about slow burn!

6.) Tiffani and Jake - California Dreams

Jake and Tiffani are one of my very first ships ever. They were high school students who were in a band called California Dreams together. They were like night and day. She was the surfer type, who was positive, sunny, and friendly. Whereas Jake was a biker type who scared everyone. They were even too scared to let him audition for the band. He played guitar and would sometimes sing and write some of their songs. He wasn’t the main singer of the band, but he would sing every once in a while. She played the bass and would sometimes sing too. They did have a breakup that was heartbreaking for me. He dated their friend Lorena for a short time, and it felt so forced and didn’t work at all. Again, I could be biased because I love Jake and Tiffani, but Jake himself and Lorena realized they didn’t work either. That’s when Jake realized he was still very much in love with Tiffani, and they got back together. This show also had the best theme song ever! I sing it every single time I hear it and when I do hear it, it’s stuck in my head all day.

7.) Monica and Chandler - Friends

I always preferred Monica and Chandler over Ross and Rachel. They were never on and off like Ross and Rachel, which would get tiresome. We never had to deal with that with Monica and Chandler. Obviously, they are friends and know each other so well that it was easy for them to get through anything because of it.

8.) Castle and Beckett - Castle

Richard Castle and Kate Beckett had amazing chemistry, even after the actors themselves were no longer getting along behind the scenes. I am amazed at how they were still able to be so believable at being very much in love with each other. Castle, a best-selling mystery novelist, and Beckett, a New York City homicide detective. Castle is inspired by Beckett and she becomes his muse for a new book he is writing. Castle uses his connections with the mayor to force the police to let him shadow Beckett. Their personalities clash in the beginning but they soon find their groove and become friends and great partners at solving crimes. The will they, won’t they was excruciating at times but paid off when they finally got together.

9.) Sabrina and Harvey - Sabrina The Teenage Witch

Sabrina and Harvey were such a cute couple. I already went into this show knowing they were meant to be because of the Sabrina comic books. Harvey was always the boyfriend. So, when Harvey left the show after season 4, I was surprised and saddened. Especially, since Harvey had finally learned about her powers. He did guest star in season 5 but was brought back for the last two seasons. I really loved when he came back because Sabrina and Harvey’s relationship was so much better after he knew about her powers. They didn’t get back together and were only friends but whenever things got complicated, he was there to help her now that he knew she was a witch. She didn’t have to hide who she really was or lie to him anymore and I really loved how that changed their relationship. Sabrina was dating someone else at this time and was going to marry this other guy, but she doesn’t go through with it. For once I can actually say Sabrina and Harvey are soulmates and really mean it! Remember she is a witch and has a soul stone and Harvey was given one too. Harvey is waiting for Sabrina outside the church when she comes out and they kiss. Their soul stones drop to the ground and fit perfectly at 12:36pm, the exact time they first met seven years ago.Then they drive off together in his motorcycle.

10.) Kelly and Zack - Saved by The Bell

Who didn’t grow up in the 90′s and wasn’t shipping Zack and Kelly? I thought they were the most gorgeous couple I had ever seen. Saved by The Bell: The College Years wasn’t a great show, but I was happy to see Zack and Kelly went to the same college, and eventually, we got to see them get married in a TV movie with Saved by The Bell: Wedding in Las Vegas.

#parks and recreation #leslie knope #ben wyatt #ava crowder #boyd crowder #justified #new girl #jessica day #nick miller #boy meets world #hey arnold #california dreams #friends #castle #caskett #sabrina the teenage witch #saved by the bell

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ficsilike-reblogged · 4 years ago

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Sunshine City: Four

A/N: We are nearing the end of this little story, my loves. Thank you to everyone who read, liked, and/or reblogged the last chapter. I adore you.

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 2.8k

Rating For This Chapter: T for blood, injuries, a K*ss or two, my undying love of tropes and cliches

Catch up on previous chapters here!

London was a beautiful mix of sparkling skyscrapers and bygone brick and mortar. It reminded her of New York on one street and some sort of historical romance novel on the next. The Tube was much more proficient than the subway and Bela was fond of the fact that Harry let her take him along to the office whenever she wasn’t on assignment.

But it still felt…like she was just visiting.

“Mordred!”

She pivoted in her chair to see Roxy—Agent Lancelot—walk into her office. The young agent had been thought dead for a handful of weeks after Kingsman’s old headquarters had exploded, but she had survived. A little injured, more than a little confused, but quickly back to normal after Eggsy discovered her in the nearest hospital. She couldn’t remember her name but she did remember how to throw men over her shoulder like it was nothing. (The nurses were not a fan.)

But Roxy was now back on her very-capable feet and usually out in the field.

“Lancelot,” she replied with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“Your cowboy has arrived in that atrocious car.” But a teasing smile was pulling at Roxy’s lips as she said it, letting Sunny know this would not be the end of their conversation. Roxy had almost instantly become aware of the strange relationship between Whiskey and the former Statesman agent and found it endlessly entertaining. While Eggsy was tending to his new duties as a prince of Sweden, Roxy had readily stepped into his role of friend to Sunny when Ginger was busy.

“He is not my cowboy.” She rose to her feet and Bela poked his little head out from under the desk where he’d been napping on an embroidered pillow, a Boxing Day gift from Merlin last year.

Roxy laughed, a full-belly laugh that had the other woman frowning. “You might want to tell him that. When he saw Tristan at the door he said, and I quote: ‘tell Sunny her cowboy is here.’ So, I do not believe he knows he isn’t your cowboy.”

She was able to keep her face neutral as Roxy’s smirk continued to grow but that did not mean her stomach did not flip and fill with butterflies. “I’ll let him know, Lancelot.”

Roxy laughed and nodded before excusing herself.

“At least he didn’t honk this time,” she muttered to herself. The pair had been assigned a mission and she expected him later that day.

The stately manor house just an hour outside London was the newest headquarters for the agency and usually agents and their American counterparts would use the underground bullet train under the (also recently rebuilt) tailor shop. It would take only a handful of minutes.

But apparently Whiskey had to be…different.

She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the door and Bela followed, matching his short stride to her longer one as she made her way out of her office, through the ornate and marble halls, and out toward the manicured lawn and front courtyard.

And there was Whiskey in his Bronco. His head was tilted back so it could catch the warmth of the infrequent sun and his stupid cowboy hat was still on his head. Her stomach tightened at the sight of the stretch of his neck. God. She still had it bad, didn’t she? Would the sight of someone’s neck make anyone (aside from her pathetically-in-love self) short of breath?

Their relationship hadn’t really changed since Tilde and Eggsy’s wedding. Well, that is what she told herself anyway. Their emails had progressed to whispered telephone calls about their days and missions and she had lost count how many times she had fallen asleep to the sound of Whiskey all-but crooning in her ear.

But…friends did that. Right?

They were friends.

The scratching of Bela’s little paws against the stone of the front steps grabbed his attention and his head lazily turned to the side as a familiar smile pushed up his lips, displaying the one dimple on his right cheek. “Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes, Sunshine?”

She tried halfheartedly to hide her smile as she slowed to a stop and leaned against the passenger-side door. “I’m Agent Mordred here, Whiskey.”

“Nope. You’ll always be my Sunshine.” He opened his door and Bela leapt up into his lap just long enough for the older agent to scratch behind his ear and then into the back seat where the corgi promptly made himself at home. Whiskey leaned over and opened the door for her and patted the leather of seat, smile never fading. “C’mon. We can talk on our way back to London.”

She rolled her eyes but slid in. As she pulled the door closed, she said, “we could have taken the train.”

“It don’t like it. The darn thing moves too fast.”

She scoffed with another smile. “I don’t believe anything moves too fast for you.”

As Whiskey started the engine he looked at her, head dipping so he could pin her with his stare over the edge of his gold-rimmed aviators. “On the contrary, Sunny. I like going slow.” He enunciated each word with that southern drawl and let his fingers slide around the worn leather of the steering wheel, nice and slow as they trailed over the stitching. “Take my time. Make it worth it when I finally reach a destination.”

Her head snapped toward the windshield as heat curled in her stomach and then strangled the next breath from her lungs. “Inappropriate.”

But he laughed and reached over to pat at her thigh and squeezed just above her knee before gravel spit beneath his tires when he pressed down on the gas.

The pair did actually speak about the mission as the unusually clear autumn day provided a perfect backdrop for their drive. “Why do we always get put on the nuclear waste missions? It is like Champ and Harry don’t like us.” She said with a huff.

“Maybe it’s our specialty, Sunshine.”

She reached out and smacked at his arm. The mission was a little more involved than Vegas. It involved a pair of couples from blue blood families who had turned to buying and selling anything and everything a would-be terrorist or dictator would need in order to keep their luxurious lifestyles. Merlin had managed to uncover the plans of an American couple about to meet with the dealers at a gala at one of the privately-owned castles in Scotland. While Tequila managed to neutralize the American couple, she and Whiskey would be taking their place, hopefully to stop them and uncover where they were getting their supply.

She gave him directions toward the tailor shop (where they could pick up a few gadgets and supplies) once they reached the right borough and laughed when he had trouble parallel parking. But after finally managing to squeeze the Bronco into a space definitely designed for something smaller, he darted around to open her door as she pulled Bela from his napping spot in the back.

She murmured a thank you as she let Bela lick at her cheek. Whiskey hummed and scratched behind Bela’s ear before placing a hand at the small of her back as she led them up toward the gleaming glass door of the tailor shop.

It was all very…domestic, in a stereotypical “southern gentleman” sort of way and she hated how much she liked it. But she had given up on actually hating anything he did. Especially when he smiled at her like that.

Edinburgh was magnificent. And Kingsman had made sure their agent and visiting Statesman were comfortable in a luxury hotel room and an extra agent to act as their chauffeur for the evening, solidifying their image as a well-to-do couple with nefarious intentions.

The past handful of hours were spent going over the plan before separating to get ready. Her dress was from some Italian designer Roxy insisted would look good on her and fit her like a black, silk glove. The thigh-high slit just barely covered the holster she’d strapped around her thigh but hopefully the dangerously low neckline would distract anyone away from her legs. The false eyelashes gave her pause for a moment—and a few tears as she stabbed herself right in the eye a few times—but she managed to put on a face full of makeup and finished with a berry-tinted lip and a heavy hand of jasmine and leather perfume.

Missions like this always made her a bit nervous. No matter how many times she’d completed them easily, they always made her feel like a kid playing dress up and waiting for a scolding. She took a few breaths and then stepped out of the bathroom and into the suite. Whiskey was there, fixing the silver cufflinks in his classic and sharply cut, dark blue suit. The dying light of the sun was framing him and the next exhale stuttered in her lungs. It was going to be a long night.

Whiskey turned at the sound of her red-soled shoes on the floor and smiled. And, of course, his eyes dragged from her toes, up her legs, her stomach, her chest…and then stopped.

“My eyes are up here, boss,” she said with a snort.

His dark eyes finally lifted up to hers as his smile slipped to a smirk. “I ain’t your boss, Sunshine.”

And her stomach actually clenched at that and she had to take a moment to clear her throat and remember that they were on a mission. “That’s good. We’re supposed to be lovesick newlyweds, right?”

Whiskey’s mouth—god, how many times was she going to stare at his mouth tonight?—twisted to the side with a frown as he took a few steps toward her and gently grasped her left hand and brought it up to his lips, kissing the diamond-encrusted band on her finger before pressing her palm against his cheek with a sigh.

She let her thumb slide against his cheekbone for a moment, smelling his expensive cologne tickle her nose and the warmth of his hand over hers settled the nerves she felt.

“You look beautiful tonight. Truly.” He leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead before he squeezed the hand he had in his grasp and intertwined their fingers as he brought them down to his side. “An easy cover.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as his watch beeped, letting them know it was time to go. “Let’s get these guys.”

And she let him tug her along with her heart in her throat.

The gala was luxurious in every sense of the word and the targets were so ostentatious that it was easy to spot them even if she hadn’t memorized their faces. Whiskey made easy work for introducing them as Mr. & Mrs. Jameson and making the targets laugh and trust them. She played the part of doting newlywed with no trouble and let herself enjoy it—as Whiskey seemed to be doing with how many times he deemed it necessary to hold her hand or press a kiss to her cheek or forehead, avoiding her lips with a joke, “she always hates it when I mess up her lipstick.” She would let her hand slip under his suit jacket as she leaned against his arm at the dinner table, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her palm or push a smile to her lips whenever she had to lean in to whisper something in his ear about the security stationed around the room or how her Geiger counter, disguised as an opulent diamond tennis bracelet detected traces of radiation on the targets’ hands and feet. Especially on the woman’s—Alice—hands.

“Shall we talk shop in the gallery? I have heard they have a wonderful display of Mucha,” the man—Allan—said with a smile.

“I do adore Mucha,” she answered in return, tapping twice against Whiskey’s hand as it rested on her leg. Show time.

The pair of couples rose from their table and walked through the ball room and down a dimly lit hall toward the castle’s art gallery without much fanfare. In fact, she noticed that this whole ordeal didn’t have much fanfare at all. It was a wonder this couple had lasted this long without being taken down with how blatantly they spoke about their intentions. It was easy.

Too easy.

As soon as they stepped into the gallery, she noticed the ‘closed for maintenance’ signage. She was nearly leveled with a crack of a gun against the back of her head. The room swam for a moment and she stumbled but kept her footing and turned just in time to duck, dodging Allan as he tried to hit her again. She took a step back just enough to gain momentum before kicking out and slamming her stiletto heel into his chest.

It barely registered that Whiskey was busy handling Alice who had somehow produced a knife from god-knows-where and had managed to at least get him once with the amount of blood spilling across his white shirt.

But her attention was quickly brought back to Allan who was coughing, blood slipping from his lips as the he struggled to get to his feet. Her heel had punctured his chest. Oops. But the struggle was getting too loud. They couldn’t afford to be caught like this. It would ruin everything.

She stomped forward and grasped the sides of Allan’s head as he tried to stand and yanked. His body thudded to the ground just as Whiskey managed to sink a needle full of some yellow-tinted liquid into the side of Alice’s neck and she collapsed in his arms almost instantaneously.

The sound of approaching footsteps had them both scrambling. To hide the bodies (both of them were stuffed behind a statue in the corner). To clean up the blood (she grabbed Whiskey’s pocket square and made quick work of it all). There wasn’t time to make an escape. The thin beam of light from a flashlight was making its way down the hall, she could see it and tugged Whiskey toward her with steady hands.

“Don’t hate me.”

And then she pressed her lips to his and threw her arms around his neck, dragging him ever closer to hide the blood on his shirt.

Whiskey…could kiss. That was made abundantly clear with how easily he coaxed her lips apart to lick into her mouth, tasting of thousand-dollar-bottle champagne and mint. His warm hands grasped at her silk-covered hips and his face angled just the slightest bit so he could truly kiss her. Her hand shot into his hair on its own accord and mussed the carefully coifed locks. He groaned against her lips.

She could kiss him forever-

“Hey!”

They broke apart to see a disgruntled security officer standing in the gallery’s doorway.

“This area’s closed to the public.”

“Sorry man,” Whiskey drawled, keeping her close with a hand on her hip and her angled to keep his wound concealed, “just had to kiss my wife-”

“Do it somewhere else,” the man all but snarled before walking away.

She listened to his footsteps disappear before pushing out a soft laugh. Her heart was still racing. Her lips seemed to pulse in time with her heart and she licked them before she could stop herself, still tasting him. She quickly shot a message to the agent waiting outside that they had one body and one unconscious target to take care of before she stepped around the room, scrambling the security camera feeds with ease with the help of a small device Merlin had been particularly proud of.

She heard Whiskey walk up behind her but still jumped when his hands settled over her shoulders, a finger dragging under the strap of her dress and down her back. She shivered when she heard him chuckle against her throat, nose pressing against her pulse. Turning in his grip, she offered a small smile but didn’t pull away. She wasn’t sure when she would have him so close again. “Alice’ll be taken back to headquarters. Alan will be disposed of. Whoever set us up doesn’t have much time left.”

But Whiskey didn’t reply. His hands travelled up to carefully grasp at her face and he pressed a kiss to her lips—slow and sweet and perfect.

She pushed out a shaky breath as he pulled back and patted at his chest, mindful of the blood. “We are about to be in trouble if the guard comes back, Mr. Jameson,” she said, trying to save face.

“M’name’s Jack, Sunshine.”

“Jack,” she whispered back and she’d never liked a name more.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm @honestlystop @paryl @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey imagine #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels imagine #agent whiskey #kingsman

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fitzpirations · 4 years ago

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yesterday, I had a thorough phone conversation with my wise mentor and fellow record slinger R, and he brought up the man in the above picture, Ewan MacColl, original writer of R's wedding song, "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face." He told me how MacColl was kicked out of America or something for his Communist views, and he never got the credit (or the money?) that he deserved for that song. I noticed as we spoke, that MacColl also wrote "Dirty Old Town," and today I saw he wrote "The Shoals of Herring," a song which has a shining moment in one of my favorite films, Inside Llewyn Davis.

I'd go as far to say that movie, directed by the Coen Brothers, starring Oscar Isaac, set in the folky New York '60s, with pale skies and wet socks, was formative to my knowledge and appreciation of music now. Anyway, R didn't get all the details correct on MacColl, I don't believe, but his story deeply fascinates me anyway. MacColl was quite outspoken, writing protest songs about the 1984-5 miner's strike, advocating for some of the "positive things that Stalin did," and even dedicating an album to the lifestyle of Romani people, called Travelling People.

He worked in radio, as I did, but he worked in radio when it was cool to tell people, and you could do proper voice acting and field interviews and radio plays and people would listen to that with vigor. He was an appreciator of traditional folk music, and he taught Peggy Seeger the words to "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" over long-distance phone call when she was in the U.S, because, as R recalled and wikipedia seems to affirm, he was "barred" from being in the country for being a Communist.

I'm losing steam here, and am afraid I'm not selling MacColl very well as an artist and a person. I'm only just learning about him. He also fell in love with Seeger, of which I was not previously familiar with either, when she was 21, and he was married and a good 20 years older. Apparently he didn't like many (or any?) cover versions of "...I Saw Your Face," but R told me about Clint Eastwood's Play Misty For Me (1971), and I asked "Misty?" like the Johnny Mathis song? Needless to say, R is always shocking with the breadth and depth? of his memory and countless encyclopedic knowledge. He told me he had to stay away from drugs, even in the glamour and excitement of the music industry and radio world, because he knew he would lose his knack for remembering these sorts of things, of which he used to make a name for himself. I'm not saying I never smoked marijuana or anything, he told me. I did smoke it a few times in the army, you know? But most of the time I did it very little, and sort of pretended it effected me when others were smoking it.

He sort of reminds me of the astronaut-type Jenny Offill's narrator of Dept. of Speculation was ghost-writing for, but maybe not. I can't quite remember the vibe that gentlemen was throwing down, but I have a correspondence with another old man from the business who as of this week has been sending me drafts of his book on the history of the station the three of us worked at. When I met Offill, she was only 2 football fields away or so from that station, and she wrote come to the dark side in the inside of my book, which was a sudden inside thing we had going after speaking for maybe 2 minutes, which just meant you should write, even if it seems it will lead no where. I wonder if MacColl, our comrade, thought his words which were written as a sort of challenge from Seeger to not be political in all of his works, would form into one of the greatest love songs of all time.

It is hard to write, I know. Reading about radio history surprisingly got me excited thinking about the era, in the way a good documentary gets you amped up, you know? There's a building up to something great, the talking heads are grinning and saying like "in those days we did everything so scrappy, but we were just having a blast," and I think of the person I was when I first heard "The Shoals of Herring," in a tiny movie theatre with my snoring father and 7 other patrons. How, for whatever reason, folk music and the idea of the Gaslight Cafe and Greenvich village in the '60s just struck me so forcefully I wouldn't speak of things other than banjos and beat writers and John Steinbeck novels for many years.

There's a power to these words, these stories, and I revisit it in so many different ways and through so many different sounds. The other day, I read about Bob Dylan and a party of people showing up at the Gaslight for a big shindig that was only recorded in a newspaper shoutout after the fact, I re-watched the Mrs. Maisel pilot with my mother where the lead stumbles in drunk past the Allen Ginsberg look-alikes (they all look like Allen Ginsberg) and begins to babble about her failed marriage. I think of the Coen Brothers characters, of the poetry and the comedy and cigarettes that were smoked, and how it feels to revisit those things, in "another day, another time." I think of people like Dave Van Ronk and Ewan MacColl, who most people I know don't know, and how the scene seemed to vanish in New York in a matter of years, but the energy still appears in wisps, in 2014 indie films no one watches until the lead actor gets put into a Star Wars movie, of a concert night the cast and crew and music people held in Town Hall to celebrate the sound, of bands being created because they really dug O Brother Where Art Thou? and I guess that energy is still in people who still read and still get blisters on their fingerpads from playing instruments with strings. It doesn't feel the same as it does the first time I heard it, the person I was when I was first reading East of Eden doesn't exist anymore, but the energy and the ideas of that time for me, of self-indulgent listens to folk albums and reading dusty books that taught me about grit and Hebrew sayings and what films to watch and things to read and music to pay attention to... that still remains. And this week those feelings of being amped up by life and art are brought to us by two old men and the likely botched tale of Ewan MacColl.

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infiniitefrequency · 3 years ago

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Rebecca Barnes; Making Ends Meet

After the war ended, and the dust settled, life had to churn on. Becks, 16 at the time, wanted to drop out of school and get a job to support their mother. During the war, Winifred worked like many women to help the war effort, but was cast aside when the men came home. That in conjunction with how much fanfare and memorials there were for Steve Rogers, but nothing for her brother, bittered her to the government even more. She hated what they’d done to her family.

She knew all her mother wanted was for her to find a nice man to marry and have a happy life, but most of all the men she met had fought in the war, soldiers battered and burned by the pain. They came home not … men, but broken toy soldiers, cast out. Pinned with medals, but then ignored and cast aside. Becks couldn’t see herself ever marrying a man that only reminded her of everything her family had lost.

But her mother forced her to stay in school, she’d change her mind, and needed to be vibrant, and exciting, well learned to catch a husband. She did learn, of course, passed, graduated, and landed herself a job as a makeup counter girl at Gimbels. They only had her there as a pretty face to sell the wares, but Becks knew her products inside and out, read up on them, and could even do the math in her head without an adding machine to check them out. She didn’t mind if it made her strange to her coworkers, who plastered on lipstick and pouted at every man that went by, her goal was to bring home money for her mother. She was the eldest now. It was her duty.

There wasn’t much time for anything else, but she kept them warm, and fed, and clothed … and when her mother got sick, she paid for the hospital visits, her medicine, and the sanatorium.

She always feared that after Jimmy passed, the pain would be too much for her to handle, and sure enough, in 1949 she fell to the consumption. Families at that time were riddled with disease and death, and she softened wondered when she’d become numb to it.

Alone now, truly, she stayed in the family home, owned outright, but never went into her mother’s room again, not since the day before the funeral, having to find her favourite dress, pearls and earrings. She did ask the mortician to remove her mother’s wedding bands, the only thing daddy had ever been able to buy her new, she didn’t want to bury it.

The little bit of money she’d been left with covered the funeral, and at best a few weeks from work, but bills were piling up. With the medical costs, the makeup counter wasn’t paying enough anymore, so she had to search elsewhere, falling more into debt every month. She worked as a telephone operator, secretary, even cigarette lady. Anything that she could do to get extra money.

1950.

It was a hot summer, with Becks working two jobs to try and stay afloat, the water tank burst in the house, flooding the basement, another expense. She was at her wits end. It didn’t help the callers she’d get to the house over the last year or so.

Howling Commandos, that was the name of Jimmy’s band of buddies. There hadn’t been a body for a funeral, but they’d had a memorial anyhow, with this group of gruff men in their military best standing hat in hand paying their respects. Becks at the time had refused to speak to any of them, especially the tall one, handing over the last of Jimmy’s effects at the door the next day. Just a reminder that they let him die, the whole of the government used him to win a war.

She’d met Jim twice, he’d come by once to speak to her mother, giving a medal Jimmy had been awarded post humorously, and the second time with his wife and child. They were kind. Mister Gabs Jones also visited once, and said some kind words to them, but didn’t accept her mother’s offer to stay for dinner, said he wouldn’t want to put her in a difficult position asking him inside.

Timothy Dugan was the one who visited most often, more once her mother had passed. He always tried to tell stories of her brother during the war, but Becks didn’t want to hear of it. She also didn’t appreciate the little envelopes of money he’d leave, she often yelled at him she got on just fine, regardless of if it was the truth. He always chuckled, saying she had her brother’s fire, and each and every time she’d throw him out.

Hearing on the radio one morning before work, that war has broken out in Korea, more death more war, and she wondered how long before the US would dirty their hands in it. She said as much to Timothy the next time he decided to stop by, not hiding her distain. To which he only replied that war brought a lot of work to the country, they needed help, and it was the American way to provide it, ain’t no one meant to go hungry. Becks just laughed, reminding him of all the women throw out of jobs when the men came home. That it would happen all over again.

“So I take it you don’t want a job then?”

A new branch of the government, and he’d been recruited, they needed help, not just military people and the like he said, but secretaries, phone operators. She’d done plenty of that work, but this paid more, a lot more.

“Enough you don’t gotta work two jobs Miss Rebecca.”

She didn’t like it, working for the government, but she’d found the end of her rope.

“Answering phones?”

“Yes ma’am. Or secretarial work, ain’t nothing with the war you’d be touching.”

The New York Bell Company. She’d walked by it plenty times her way to Gimbels, had no idea it’d been something other than it seemed, though that was the way of the big men in their offices, hiding in plain sight. Her CV was nothing to scoff at, high words per minute she could type on a typewriter, she could transfer calls on a switchboard like a pro, and could even teach you how to hide that lady’s perfume scent from your “long lunch” before you go home to your wife.

She supposed it was honest work, as honest as could be, and it pulled her outta the fire. She could make ends meet, keep the house the way her daddy would have wanted, and didn’t have to sell her mother’s ring after all.

Maybe the government wasn’t all bad …

#rebecca barnes; ( headcanon )#infiniitefrequency; ( headcanon )

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whoisaditya · 4 years ago

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A love letter to The Wombats

First, a brief background about The Wombats: The Wombats is an interesting English Indie Rock Band. They started back in 2003 in Liverpool, United Kingdom. The most interesting thing about them is how experimental they are with their albums — considering their vast range. One might think that The Wombats don’t care about what you and I think. They care about their art and what that represents. This is what makes them free to do whatever they want. Now, the album that I want to talk about is some of their earlier work. It was released back in 2007. Damn, that feels like an eternity ago. So let’s begin our journey.

The first track: Tales of Girls, Boys and Marsupials. For me, this track prepares you for what’s to come. It is a good melody and relatively simple. I’ve always enjoyed it because of how strange it is. From this, we move onto the second track.

Kill the Director. This is the song that brought me to the album, and for a long time, it was one of the most played songs for me on Spotify. When I think of this song, I think of the music video which you should watch. The song is different from the first track, and it is faster and has a lot of content. My favourite things are British pop culture references. The nods to Bridget Jones’s Diary and EastEnders make this a quintessentially British song.

Track 3: Moving to New York, this song has always been close to my heart because it is edgy. It tells us what the British think of American cities like New York. I have always had trouble understanding this song due to multiple reasons. Even right now while I’m reading the lyrics and thinking about what to write about them, I am confused. If you look at it literally, the song talks about sleeplessness and Christmas for some reason. Now, let me tell you what I feel about it. This has always been a song to which I headbang and do the air guitar. I never really understood the lyrics. I probably never will. Though, my favourite part has been these lines.

“I put one foot forward and ended up 30 yards back.

Am I losing touch, or am I just completely off the track?

And I don’t know why I want to voice this out loud.

It’s therapeutic somehow.”

Especially the line, “Am I losing touch or am I just completely off track”. Back when I first heard this song, the pandemic was at its peak. I was preparing for entrances, and life was a mess. I related to this, and I’m sure you guys will as well. This song will make you feel things and reconsider life as a whole.

Now, moving onto track 4, Lost in the Post. This is the most popular song on the album. The song sounds surprisingly happy, but when you pay attention, the lyrics are depressing. It is my kind of music because it tells us a story with a catchy chorus. The line that has stuck with me is “She Wanted Mary Poppins but I took her to King Lear”. It represents so much more than you and I can comprehend. It represents not being enough and a theme of overcompensation followed by under-compensation. Its a simple song but the Wombats have done a good job of packing it with references. It is a song about insecurities and love, the two things that are fundamental to any artist.

Track 5: Party in a Forest(Where’s Laura?). Laura, oh, Laura. I will never truly understand this song. Is it a love letter to Laura or is it a desperate man singing for a girl who will never love him back? Throughout the song, he keeps calling out to Laura, but there’s no response. By the end of it, it seems like he has almost given up. Maybe I’m just reading too much into music, or perhaps this boy is writing songs about a gender he doesn’t understand.

Track 6 is something most of us can relate to. Titled “Schools Uniform”, it is literally from the perspective of a teenage boy going through puberty. It is not the typical “Oh. I miss school” song, but maybe a more realistic approach to what school was. Those uniforms, which most of us claim to miss, perhaps made a joke of us. He sings about a girl he likes and who he used to be friends with, but now she has an older boyfriend. The most important thing about this song is how teens romanticise/think that smoking is cool. It’s the whole trope of doing something because someone else is doing it. After all, someone has deemed it cool. The song does an excellent job of talking about how teenagers try their best to fit in to get the validation they so desperately want. This is generally executed by doing things that most of the time is not good for them, and here ends track 6.

Moving on to track 7, the song I’m most excited to write about. Here Comes the Anxiety is the epitome of a cry for help. It is probably the most painful to listen to because it doesn’t even hide that it is sad. I have to give it credit for being honest about its message. In a messed up way, this taught me how to be honest about myself. The song starts by calling out what I think is all music where creators hide the real message behind catchy hooks and other techniques. The essence of the song is hypocritical; it has a catchy hook line(It is literally in the title). The song is just lying to you; it tries to sell an honest image, but it is not. Don’t get me wrong, it is a good song, but it is just like everything else. It is a dark song like it claims to be. It is a song about a lonely man who doesn’t want to be alone, and that’s about it for track 7.

Let’s Dance to Joy Division is one of my favourite songs. So, I have a sort of personal bias towards it. It is happy and real but also quite sad. The lines

“Everything is going wrong but we’re so happy” perfectly captures the essence of this kind of music. It is happy music, so don’t question it. You don’t need to be comfortable while listening to it, maybe sing along and pretend that your life isn’t going to shit. My interpretation of this song is, you shouldn’t question life while it is happening. If something has to go wrong, it probably will, so why even worry about it. Just be happy and maybe play this on a loop.

Track 9 is Backfire at the Disco. It describes a heterosexual first date. A guy gets ready at 8 pm, meets the girl and then gets slapped. The story is pretty straightforward. The guy makes a move at the wrong time. The girl slaps him in response and has to go back home alone at 3 am. What’s important to me isn’t the story but how it’s told. The song starts with how everything is fine and how it is all going okay. It sounds like the girl is in the wrong and that we should feel bad for the guy. The song gets pretty misogynistic when he calls her dress whorish. To give him some credit, he does admit his mistake by the end, but then it is too late, and the narrative has been set. This victimisation of the perpetrator is extremely harmful. It creates a story that men don’t know what to do and how it is an honest mistake. This message is toxic, and anyone listening to this should keep this in mind.

Little Miss Pipedream describes a toxic one-sided relationship. The song is comparatively slower-paced, where the stress is on the lyrics. The song expects us to feel sympathy for this man who is madly in love with this girl. The protagonist is portrayed as a friendly guy who is willing to wait for this girl. This man has selfish ideas of love, and he’s trying to convince the listeners to sympathise with him. These ideas are selfish because they are all based around him. Lyrics like, “Don’t leave miss pipedream cause I love you.” is an example of what is incorrect with this song. Pop culture has often romanticised these ideas and portrayed these men as heroes.

Track 11 is about a therapist named Dr Susan. It is clear that Dr Susan is treating and is prescribing him narcotics. He is infatuated with her and is willing to do anything for her. This is clearly some toxic behaviour. The singer keeps repeating “This Time” which means that he has done this before. The most concerning thing is “Help Me Help Help Me, Susan”. We can see a theme where he asks for help but no one gives it to him and there ends track 11.

Track 12 is about loving a woman who doesn��t want to be loved. The singer has fallen in love with a stripper and is willing to do anything to be with her. His behaviour indicates that he has lost track of reality. In his head, his actions are part of a grander love story but it is psychotic behaviour. This is ironic cause the last song was about a therapist. He clearly knows what he is doing is wrong but he still continues to do so. This entire song does a good job of showing a messed up, toxic relationship between a desperate man and a stripper.

The story of Track 13 is set at the wedding of the protagonist’s ex-girlfriend. It does something unusual by portraying alcoholic tendencies at a wedding. The lyrics make it clear that he still has some feelings for his ex-girlfriend. I don’t know where the blame lies on this one because of the conflicting narratives. The repetition of the line, “She’s not that beautiful” shows us his hatred towards the bride and how our emotions are more complex than they seem. One would assume that after all this time he wouldn’t resent his old partner but he does. This is because humans are complicated and irrational and there’s nothing we can do about it. This also shows how when we are with someone everything seems romantic but when they leave we criticise all their actions. To conclude, the song is quite entertaining and definitely worth listening to.

If you have read this until now and not skimmed as most people will, you must be thinking that all these songs sound somewhat similar. It’s a simple boy loves girl plot which is portrayed in multiple different settings. Before I started writing this, I thought that I would have something unique to write about each song, but I don’t. As I moved on from track to track, I realised that most of these are about the same thing. Does this mean the songs are not great? No, of course not, they are amazing. Each track is unique and has a storyline, the music is good, and that’s why people enjoy it. Music is subjective, and at the end of the day, my opinion means jackshit. Yeah, enjoy the music; I hope what I wrote made you think and introspect about the music you listen to.

#thewombats #british music #Indie

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freewithyourtempo · 5 years ago

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Could you write a cherik fic where Erik is this really famous/hot actor who keeps his personal life very private and all of his fans speculate who his wife his and want to date him until he shows up to a red carpet with Charles (in a wheelchair) and shocks everyone and reveals they’ve been together since like childhood

I’m really sorry it took me so long to write this.I hope you’ll like it!

"Are you ever going to tell us who you’re dating?“

The room holds his breath.Erik Lehnsherr smiles, slow and dangerous. Not in a pleasant way.

Well, Emma rectifies, it is still a boiling hot smile - how could it not be, with those cheekbones and that jawline -; but it isn’t meant to be reassuring. She feels her face warming.

Lehnsherr takes his time answering.

He fetches the bottle of water hiding the plaque with his name - as if anyone could not know who Erik Lehnsherr is at a press conference for his latest blockbuster-, long fingers leaving prints on the cloudy glass, and refills his cup.

He tilts the bottle, tendons bulge on his arm. Dozens of eyes follow the spilling water on its way down.

Emma could bet the journalist is already regretting her question, and hides her smirk behind a clever swipe of her lipstick.

Someone coughs in the heavily silent room.

Everyone is staring at Lehnsherr’s working throat, up and down with his Adam’s apple, and Lehnsherr is grinning down at the poor journalist, who, at this point, can only squirm in her pastel tailleur.

Eventually, Lehnsherr puts his glass down and pops his lips. “You’re not my type,” he says.

The journalist looks flabbergasted. “I- What?”

Emma shifts on her chair and uncrosses her legs.

Lehnsherr blinks. “The only reasonable excuse for you to ask me anything about the identity of my partner is that you’re interested in what I like. Because, otherwise, your question would be highly inappropriate. So… I’m saving you time. You’re not my type. Next question?”

The journalist sits back down with no further comment.

Emma raises her hand to ask a question.

***

According to the Internet, Erik Lehnsherr is so hot that staring at him without your sunglasses could send you directly to the Emergency Room with burnt corneas.

But boy, wouldn’t it be worth it.

Your internal eyelids would forever preserve the image of those sharp cheekbones, those sin-inducing lips, those bulb-exploding grey eyes.

But it isn’t just his face, it is his whole attitude.

Brooding, mysterious and confident, with a smile that could slice open paparazzi’s cameras and a taste for dark characters with disputable morals and indisputable appeal.

Every woman wants to do him, and every man wants to–

No, scratch that.

Everyone with a sexual drive has dreamt at least once of his long fingers and rough jaw in the last year, no exception.

Hell, Erik Lehnsherr is so convolutedly sexy that Byron would have had wet dreams about him.

Once Emma saw a video of him smoking and that night she woke up, skin burning hot, with the sheets wrapped around her calves and a tuft of blonde hair stuck to her damp forehead.

And as any self-respecting tormented artist, he is a recluse.

He doesn’t attend galas or parties if he can help it (he can help it pretty often), he has never been photographed with his hands up someone’s skirt in an alley behind a dark disco or been arrested for skinny-dipping in the Trevi Fountain. The last one is a pity.

He doesn’t even have one chatty, bribable relative in all of New York.

Emma would know, she has gone looking.

It is frustrating.

Fundamental questions about his person are still unanswered, and one of them above all torments Erik Lehnsherr’s fans like a rock in their shoes.

A rock the size of Mount Rushmore.

Who is the lucky bastard who has chained him with a wedding band?

Emma is torn between her desire to bloodily maul them and to gift them a star on the walk of fame.

The inscription would be something on the line of: “The unknown sucker that wakes up every morning with Erik Lehnsherr’s ass at arm’s length. Hope you plump him up like a pillow, sugar.”

But the identity of the unknown spouse will in all likelihood stay a secret a little longer.

It is probably the blonde top model who has co-starred his last movie, anyway. Hollywood’s couples are never a big surprise.

***

Logan has a work ethic, even if he is a paparazzo.

Just because he makes money on people’s missteps, heartbreaks and scandals - the snottiest, the better-, it doesn’t mean he can’t be compassionate about it.

That’s why he has come to the conclusion, while squatted behind a smelly trash can in front of Lehnsherr’s trailer, that he will give the actor a heads up.

He will still sell the photos of his imminent cheating to the highest bidder, obviously.

That kind of stuff is worth thousands of bucks, and he is not Gandhi.

But he will magnanimously offer Lehnsherr time to have a heart to heart with his significant other, whoever she may be. Cry a bit, beg for forgiveness, buy diamonds. The usual stuff one does when they are very sorry and not doing that again.

He could put an anonymous letter in the mailbox, maybe.

Yes, Logan thinks, chewing on his battered cigar, that will do it.

He is such a good guy.

He lifts his camera and zooms on the very pretty girl waiting outside of Lehnsherr’s trailer.

Logan sees her knocking twice, then tossing her dark hair on one shoulder and putting a hand on her cocked hip. Her tiny, tiny dress rides up her thigh some more and she doesn’t fix it.

It takes a few moments, then Lehnsherr opens the door in his sweatpants, hair ruffled already.

The girl takes a step forward on her staggering heels, and Logan starts snapping photos of the two like his life depends on it.

He’s grinning like a maniac, the trashcan he’s leaning against squits periodically and his index finger hurts, but there’s no way on Earth he will let this opportunity get away.

Now Lehnsherr will look around furtively, making sure there’s no one in the vicinity, will grab the girl by the arm and close the door behind their entwined figures.

Except that he doesn’t.

Logan can literally feel the bills being taken out of his pockets and he almost wails.

His camera records the evolution of Lehnsherr’s surprised, frowning, distrusting and openly hostile face.

He’s not aroused, he’s not intrigued, he’s not even remotely interested in freeing the entrance of his trailer.

He looks almost offended.

Lehnsherr lifts one eyebrow, syllables something that can’t be anything but a piercing “no” and snaps the door closed. The girl jumps.

Logan captures the moment with a sigh and looks critically at the result.

The next morning the most-clicked tabloids display a full-page picture of Lehnsherr’s unforgiving rejection with a dozen variation of the same question.

“Does he prefer blondes?”

***

Emma wishes fans were fashionable, because Erik Lehnsherr has just stepped onto the red carpet, showered by the frantic flashes of the cameras, and she suddenly feels weak in the knees.

Somebody next to her whistles under their breath, and she totally shares the sentiment.

He doesn’t look ethereal, he looks very, very solid. Tall and self-possessed, straight shoulders and slim waist in a gorgeous oxford-blue suit that makes his legs go on forever.

There’s something less than stoic in the line of his mouth, though, Emma notices.

A nervous flicker of the eye, and then something happens.

He turns around and smiles.

Emma stares.

It’s not his usual smile, sardonic and knowing, charming but in a honed way.It is a flustered smile, face flushed, bright eyes and everything. And it is directed to one man and one man only, who is approaching him with strong pushes of his wheelchair.

Cameras go crazy around them, other actors forgotten.

Lensherr waits for his companion to join him, face so open it looks like it has lost its bark.

Emma can’t see the face of the stranger, only the straight lines of an expensive suit and a mop of rich, brown hair, and almost gets on her tiptoes to have a better view.

The men share a few words under the hungry stares of the journalists, then Lehnsherr rolls his eyes and indulgently bends over to have his bow-tie straightened.

Emma can’t hear anything from where she’s standing, but she is quite sure Lehnsherr has just warringly asked: “Are you happy now?”

The other man answers, Lehnsherr snorts and kisses him on the forehead.

Then he freezes, and turns towards the people gathered as if spotting them only then.

He glares at the journalists, steely eyes back in their place in a clear warning, and straightens back to move forward on the carpet.

Emma walks as fast as she can without breaking into a run, heels sinking into the moquette and jewels tingling.“Mr. Lehnsherr!”She knows he has heard her, because his back stiffens, but he doesn’t turn. She frowns. He’s not getting away from this. “Mr. Lehnsherr!”The man in the wheelchair stops, turns his head and smiles so charmingly at her she feels instantly flattered. “Erik, dear, that lovely woman is trying to get your attention.”

He has a silver-polishing British accent, voice calm and collected.

“She won’t have it.”

“Dear.”

It is an obvious reprimand, one that sounds smoothed by use, and Emma sees Lehnsherr’s shoulders sag in defeat. She smiles smugly at his disgruntled frown when he turns.

His British companion swiftly approaches her, and Lehnsherr follows him a few steps behind like a recalcitrant body-guard.

“What do you want, Frost?”

“Erik!” the man exclaims, scandalized, and glares at him. “Don’t be such a yahoo.”

He delicately lifts Emma’s hand and draws it close to his lips.

He blinks on his blue, blue eyes and looks at her from below, and Emma feels her face redden. “Miss, I apologize for his behavior. He’s usually well-mannered.”

“Charles, you are making me sound like your corgi.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Charles answers, and winks at Emma. “You would at least be a Doberman.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Emma feels scrambled.

Lehnsherr doesn’t smile dreamily, doesn’t get teased and laughs it off. He glares and scoffs and frowns and scares people away. Who is this Charles, and what power does he have?

“You’re gaping, Frost,” Lehnsherr says icily. “Is something the matter?”

He moves closer to Charles and puts his left hand on his shoulder to squeeze it lightly, in an obviously protective stance. His wedding ring shines proudly against the dark fabric.

Charles tilts his head and briefly strokes his cheeks against Lehnsherr’s fingers, equally obviously calming.

“You can’t blame me for being surprised,” Emma shoots back. “He’s too nice for you.”

Lehnsherr sharpens his eyes and assays her, then nods once, imperceptibly.

“Now, now,” Charles intervenes, tone pacifying. “Erik is the best man I’ve ever met, and the best boyfriend I have ever had!”

Lehnsherr looks down at him. “I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had, Charles.”

“Well, I’m sure you would have been the best, anyway.”

Something inside of Emma is melting, but she finally remembers that she has a job to do. “High-school sweethearts?”

“No,” Lehnsherr answers, and tightens his lips to show how unwilling he’s to share more on the subject.

“More like childhood sweethearts,” Charles adds. Then smirks. “Erik proposed when he was ten. We had met the previous week.”

Lehnsherr blushes, actually blushes. “You accepted,” he grumbles.

“How could I not? The first time we met, you saved Cerebro. You were my knight in shining armor.”

“Cerebro?” Emma asks.

“His cat. That dunce was stuck in a tree.”

“How can you call him that, you were inseparable!”

“He was silly!”

“He was curious!”

Lehnsherr huffs “A ridiculous cat for a ridiculous man, Xavier.”

Emma chokes on her breath. “Xavier? Xavier of the Xavier Corporations?”Charles Xavier smiles bashfully, and Emma considers it a confirmation. “I’m just a professor, really…”“A university professor,” Lehnsherr corrects. “Yes, but…”“You have been called ‘a prodigy’, If I recall correctly.”“Erik,” Charles mutters, reprimanding. He straightens his tie and clears his throat. Emma looks from one man to the other, blinking. “You’ve just become the hottest couple in the whole city, I hope you know that.” She considers for a moment, then adds. “In every sense.”

#cherik #cherik fic #you asked #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #actor!erik #emma frost #logan howlett #my fic

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