#then discovered rock n roll and guitars together

[morganbritton132]

I absolutely love every time other people find something out about Steve and are just like ???

I wonder if any of his student’s parents are fans of Eddie’s but have no idea their kid’s teacher is married to him (perhaps finding out at career day 👀)

I love the thought of some rock n roll dad (aka: the guy in the minivan blaring Rage Against the Machine during morning drop off (aka: aka: my dad)) meeting his kid’s teacher during open house and seeing a picture on his desk of him and guitar legend, Eddie Munson.

Steve’s in the middle of explaining the curriculum for the year when Rock N Roll Dad points to a picture of him and Eddie backstage at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame last year when Eddie presented like, “You like that guy?”

Steve looks from Rock N Roll Dad to the picture and then back, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Then he goes back to talking about what they should expect in terms of homework and that was that until parent/teacher conferences.

The first thing Rock N Roll Dad clocks in the new picture on Steve’s desk. It replaced the Eddie Munson one with a new one of the two of them in the parking lot after a local show. Steve’s got his arm thrown around Eddie’s neck, both of them smiling wide, and Gareth is in the background giving them bunny ears.

Rock N Roll Dad points to the framed picture like, “Pretty cool to have met ‘em.”  

“Yeah,” Steve nods. “It’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

Rock N Roll Dad is not gay himself but he is not one of those ultra straight Corroded Coffin fans that liked to pretend that half the band isn’t queer. He was actually watching the MTV Music Awards show that Eddie publicly came out at by declaring his love for some guy named Steve, and actually.

Rock N Roll Dad thought it made a lot of sense that Eddie Munson was gay because well. A lot of his songs were… phallic.

So, he knows.

He knows that Eddie Munson is gay and that he’s married to some guy whose name isn’t even listed on his Wikipedia page, and he knows that he lives in Chicago, but what he doesn’t know is why he never put two and two together and got Steve Harrington.

There’s a different picture of Eddie Munson on Mr. Harrington’s desk when Rock N Roll Dad goes to talk to him after his kid gets detention for being a little shithead. There is framed original concept art for CC’s first album on the wall behind Steve when Rock N Roll Dad checks in on his kid during a zoom study session.

Hell, Rock N Roll Dad follows Eddie on Tiktok.

He has seen the ass shots that Eddie has posted of his husband in his running shorts, and he did think, yeah, that’s a great ass. He didn’t know he was thinking that about his kid’s math teacher!!

It’s not even Career Day when he discovers it. It’s the day before when they can set up their booths in the gym because Rock N Roll Dad may be a heavy metal fan always, but he’s also an accountant from 8:30 to 4:30 Monday thru Friday.

 He’s struggling to keep his poster board up when in walks guitar legend, Eddie Munson. He’s carrying a box, following behind a guy carrying an iguana.

Rock N Roll Dad abandons everything and walks over to the booth across the way. He can hear the two bickering with each other but before he can say anything, Steve Harrington is there and he is distressed, “Why do you have that?!”

“Her name is Leia, Steve,” Dustin says, “and she has separation anxiety.”

Steve opens his mouth like he wants to complain but doesn’t even know where to begin so he just accepts it, “Is she going to eat somebody?”

“That happened one time!”

Eddie Munson, infamous guitarist that lived on Rock N Roll Dad’s walls as a teenager, uses the opportunity to slide up next to Mr. Harrington and wrap an arm around him. He kisses his cheek, “Baby, we’re here to help.”

“You’re here to guilt me into letting you be a part of Career Day.”

“I can multitask, babe,” Eddie grinned, still so close to Steve that his smile touches his cheek. Steve just sags against him and Rock N Roll Dad thinks, oh. He thinks, oh, shit.

“You have a fan,” Steve mumbles, pulling away a little. It takes Rock N Roll Dad a second to realize that they’re talking about him and then he thinks, fuck.

“Hey – Hi. Uh.” He stops, thinks about lying and saying he needs tape or something, but settles on, “I didn’t know my kid’s teacher married you.”

“Technically, I married him.”

“Technically, I married both of you,” Dustin pointed out. “I officiated the wedding.”

“Ah,” Rock N Roll Dad says because what else is there to say. “Big fan.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 2 - Electric Desires

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 7.2k

Chapter 2/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Each chapter is hella long because I had time to sit and wait to release this one. Weekly updates might be the wave.

R and Nat will be moving quickly so if you like slow burn this isn't the story lol.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

Natasha sat cross-legged on the worn-out couch in their cluttered studio: which was just Tony’s garage. The room buzzed with creative energy and the faint scent of old leather, a familiar combination that fueled the essence of Velvet Rebellion. She strummed her guitar absentmindedly, her fingers dancing over the fretboard, creating a gentle hum in the room. She was in her element in full force. 

Steve, Bucky, Wanda, and Tony were huddled around a battered coffee table, scraps of lyrics, and scribbled notes strewn about like confetti after a wild party. They were her bandmates, her comrades in music, and tonight they were deep into a songwriting session. Natasha enjoyed days like this the most. She often found the songwriting process frustrating but fulfilling, which is why they’re on hour four of this session with only the first verse written. It seems she’s not the only one with writer’s block. 

"Natasha, we need something here," Steve’s voice cut through the room's creative haze. He furrowed his brow, fingers dancing over the keys of a vintage synthesizer. "A melody to tie this verse together."

Natasha tore her gaze away from her guitar and glanced over at Wanda. Her fingers stopped mid-strum. She blinked; her thoughts momentarily disrupted.

"Nat, you with us?" Tony chimed in, his eyes darting between Natasha and his laptop.

A flush of embarrassment washed over Natasha. She'd been lost in thought, her mind wandering where it shouldn't have. She’d been thinking about you again. She couldn’t get you out of her head. There was a hint of exhaustion on her features as she sat her guitar next to her. She’d spent the previous night going down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos involving you. It seemed you’d understated how good of a musician you were. Natasha discovered you had a small fanbase with plenty of videos dedicated to your brief yet impactful career. Even if your resume included a lot of backup singing, she could see why there was a push for you to strive for something more. You were talented in every sense of the word. 

With a sheepish smile, she nodded. "Sorry, guys. Got a bit distracted there."

She fumbled to put her phone face down on the coffee table, hoping her bandmates hadn't noticed her constant glances at the silent screen. Natasha had been replaying every moment of your brief encounter at the party in her mind, questioning if she'd made a connection or if it was just another fleeting moment.

Steve’s fingers continued their dance on the synthesizer as he tried out different melodies, his voice soft, almost hypnotic. "No worries, Nat. Happens to the best of us."

But Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration with herself. She was the lead singer and lyricist and usually held everything together. Yet today, her mind was scattered, torn between music and an unexpected, lingering hope that her phone would light up with a message from someone she'd barely known.

Natasha's fingers deftly reached for her well-worn writing book, nestled among scattered lyrics and half-finished songs. Her eyes scanned the pages, searching for something that had evaded her for far too long. Her bandmates carried on their musical discussion, oblivious to her momentary distraction.

Finally, she found it—a scribbled idea that had haunted her thoughts for weeks but had remained unreachable, refusing to take a tangible form. Natasha's heart raced as she read the words, her handwriting staring back at her, challenging her to bring them to life.

"Guys, hold on a sec," she called out, her voice trembling with excitement. Her bandmates stopped their conversation, turning their attention to her. Natasha's fingers tapped the page she'd found. "I think I've got something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "What is it?"

Natasha cleared her throat and began to read the lyrics she'd unearthed, her voice carrying a hint of the sweet melody she envisioned:

"Underneath the city lights, I saw your face,

In the crowded room, you were my saving grace.

A glance, a smile, it all fell into place,

In that moment, I knew, love's tender embrace."

As Natasha recited the lyrics, Wanda's eyes widened, and she nodded appreciatively. "That's beautiful, Natasha."

Natasha couldn't help but blush at the compliment. She felt the lyrics were deeply personal, a reflection of the emotions she'd been grappling with. "Thanks, Wanda. But I think it's missing something."

Wanda leaned in closer, her fingers lightly grazing Natasha's arm as they huddled together over the writing book. "What do you have in mind?"

A spark of inspiration flickered in Natasha's eyes. "How about this? Instead of just a glance and a smile, it's about meeting someone and falling in love at first sight. The moment your heart skips a beat."

Wanda's lips curved into a knowing smile. "I like that. It adds depth to the story."

With renewed enthusiasm, Natasha began to sing the modified lyrics, her voice filled with emotion:

"In the heart of the city, I met your eyes,

In that instant, I felt my soul take flight.

Love at first sight, a sweet surprise,

Two worlds colliding, under starry skies."

The words flowed effortlessly, weaving a sweet melody that resonated with everyone in the room. Sitting behind his drum kit, Tony started tapping a rhythm, adding a pulsating beat to the song. Steve found his way back to the keyboard, his fingers searching for the chords that matched the melody.

The studio came alive with the energy of collaboration as they played off each other, improvising and experimenting. Wanda's voice dipped into low notes, adding a haunting harmony, while Tony began to find a mix to add to the music. 

It wasn't the final product but the magic of creation—their music taking shape from a mere spark of inspiration. Natasha couldn't help but smile as they continued to refine the song. 

Bucky sat down his guitar, a sly grin playing on his lips as the melody they'd created together hung in the air. He couldn't help but feel a shift in Natasha's usual songwriting style, one that intrigued him. "Nat, you're getting into writing love songs now?"

Natasha shot him a playful yet challenging look, her fingers still scribbling along the notebook pages. "Oh, please, Bucky. We had love songs on our first album."

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Not like this. These lyrics, they're something else."

Natasha sighed, closing the tiny notebook again. She knew he was right, and she couldn't deny the shift in her lyrics and her emotions. "Alright, fine. Maybe I am writing a love song."

Bucky leaned forward, his gaze intense. "So, are you in love, Natasha?"

She met his gaze head-on. "No, Bucky. I'm not."

Bucky nodded in understanding, sensing the unspoken annoyance in her words. Natasha had always been guarded about matters of the heart, and they respected her boundaries. They returned to their instruments, each lost in their thoughts, letting the music speak the words that couldn't be said.

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

The leotard store was an arrangement of colors, and Isabella, your spirited nine-year-old daughter, was bouncing between the racks, playing her own game of hide-and-seek with the endless collection of spandex. Her enthusiasm for picking out leotards rivaled her passion for gymnastics.

"Mama, check this one out! It's super sparkly!" Isabella shouted, triumphantly holding up a leotard adorned with sequins like a little treasure hunter.

You and Monica shared a knowing smile as you surveyed the options. "Great choice, Bella," you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. "Let's add it to the pile."

Isabella nodded, seemingly satisfied, and skipped off in pursuit of her next leotard conquest.

As Monica and you continued your search, your mind drifted back to a conversation you’d had at Harley's party just a couple of weeks ago. There was a woman there, a stranger to you, who had engaged you in a conversation that had held your attention for longer than you’d expected.

"Hey, y/n" Monica began, her tone a mix of curiosity and amusement. She sifted through the clothes, trying to understand what she was looking for. Isabella had a very specific taste.  "Are you going to finally tell me about the woman from the party? You two seemed to be hitting it off."

You glanced at Monica, feeling somewhat caught off guard. "Oh, that? It was just a casual conversation. I doubt it's anything worth dwelling on."

Monica raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with your dismissal. "Just a casual conversation? You looked pretty into her. What's her name?"

You sighed, knowing Monica wouldn't let it go quickly. "Her name is Natasha Romanoff. She’s the lead singer of that band. Velvet Rebellion. We talked for a while. But honestly, I haven't reached out to her or anything." You shrugged. 

Monica persisted, undeterred. "She’s cute. I’ve heard a couple of their songs in passing. Why haven’t you called her?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your fingers unconsciously fussing with a leotard on the rack. "Life's been hectic lately. I've barely had a moment to breathe, let alone call someone."

Isabella, who had overheard your conversation while meticulously assessing leotards with the discerning eye of a seasoned fashion critic, joined in. "Mom, you should call her."

You couldn't help but smile at Isabella's straightforward logic. "You focus on the leotards. You only need a few for now. You’re growing like a weed."

Monica and Isabella exchanged amused glances, both united in their disbelief. "The kid is right," Monica declared, her eyes dancing with mischief.

Isabella nodded in agreement, adding her hint of authority. "I’m just saying." She held up a pink leotard and you shook your head. The cut wasn’t appropriate in your opinion. She returned the leotard to the rack with a sigh and went to a new one. 

Monica's curiosity was relentless, and she wasn't about to let the topic of the woman from Harley's party go. As you continued looking through the racks with Isabella's energy bounding around you, she probed further.

"Come on, y/n, what's the big deal about calling her?" Monica inquired, a mischievous glint in her eye.

You sighed, trying to choose your words carefully. "Mon, you know their band's reputation. The tabloids haven’t been so easy on them. Especially with them being new. Trust me I’ve checked.” You shook your head. “And besides, Natasha used to date Carol Danvers. We’re not friends, but we’re not exactly enemies either. I’m not in the business of going behind her back. It was a bad breakup if it’s anything like the tabloids say and I don't want to risk the same fate."

Monica raised an eyebrow, her expression one of bemused disbelief. “You're not even dating this Natasha person yet. It could be a fun fling or something. You don't have to jump into a full-blown relationship. Also, you hate Carol Danvers."

“I don’t hate her,” You refuted her claims. “I simply enjoy spending my time in spaces that don’t have her in them.” You couldn't deny Monica's point, but the cautious side of you still hesitated. "Also, I know it doesn’t have to be more than what it is. But I've been down that road before, and it wasn't pretty. Besides, I don't want to have this conversation in front of Isabella."

You leaned down to pass a few leotards to Isabella and whispered to her, "Sweetie, can you go find some shoes that match these leotards? That would be a big help."

Isabella nodded enthusiastically, her focus shifting from the leotards to her newfound mission. As she scampered off in search of the perfect shoes, you turned your attention back to Monica.

Monica gave you an understanding look, her voice lowered. "Alright, I get it, y/n,  But don't let the past hold you back from something potentially great. You deserve happiness, too. Even if that means you fuck a few times and that’s it."

“Monica,” Your eyes widened, clearly scandalized by her bluntness. 

“Am I lying?” Monica held up a hand. “When’s the last time you had some? You don’t know do you?”

“I do know. It hasn’t been that long.” You considered her words. You thought back to the very brief casual sex thing you had with a woman around last year. Or was it two years ago? “You’re right I don’t know.” 

“See,” Monica leaned against a rack. “Ask her out to the party tonight. It’s a group thing. I get to vet her. You get to see her. We all win.”

“Fine, fine,” You shake your head. 

“Call her now,” Monica nodded. 

“Um, she’s probably busy.” You furrowed your brow. Another excuse from you. 

“She’ll answer,” Monica said assuredly. “Do it or I’ll dm her myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” You held up a warning finger to Monica. Sometimes your best friend’s forwardness wasn’t welcome. Even if she meant well. She raised a brow at you before pointedly looking toward your purse. “Fine.” You grumbled as you took out your phone. 

You walked to a quieter corner of the store, away from the bustle and the excited chatter of Isabella and Monica, who were now hunting for beam shoes. You scrolled through your contacts until you found Natasha's name. With a deep breath, you pressed the call button.

On the first ring, Natasha's voice came through, calm and confident. "Hello?"

You couldn't help but smile, though your attempt to sound equally composed might have come off as forced. "Hey, Natasha. How's everything going?"

“Oh, it’s you,” Natasha's tone change was evident. "Everything's good. I've been wondering when you'd call."

You felt a rush of relief hearing that she'd been waiting for your call. "I'm sorry it took me a while. Life's been crazy lately, and, well, you know how it is."

Natasha's tone shifted slightly, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "I do know. But you don't need to be nervous. It's just a call."

You chuckled softly, feeling a bit more at ease. "You're right. I've just been out of practice with this whole...courting thing."

“Courting? Is that what we’re doing?” Natasha's voice lowered, the flirtatious edge unmistakable. "Well, maybe we can help you get back into practice."

You couldn't help but blush, even though she couldn't see it over the phone. "That sounds like a plan."

Just then, you heard Isabella's excited voice in the background, likely showing off a pair of beam shoes she'd found. Natasha must have heard it too.

"Sounds like you've got company," Natasha noted. 

Just as you were about to respond to Natasha, Isabella's excited voice carried through the phone in the background. "Mama, look at these beam shoes! They're so cool!"

You grinned and chuckled softly. "That's my daughter, Isabella."

Natasha's voice held a hint of warmth. "She sounds like a lively girl."

“She is,” You nodded. You give Isabella a thumbs-up and a smile. "Listen, Natasha," you began, "there's something I wanted to mention. There's a party tonight at this great club called Heatwave. Have you heard of it?”

“Yes, I’ve been there once or twice,” Natasha replied.

“Well, I don't usually go out much, but I'll be there. It would be great if you could join."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Natasha's voice returned, filled with a sense of anticipation. "Heatwave, huh? I'll stop by."

Your heart skipped a beat at her response. It seemed that, despite your initial hesitation, the possibility of something exciting and new was on the horizon, and you couldn't help but look forward to seeing Natasha at the party tonight.

“What time should I be there?” Natasha questioned. 

“I like to put Bella to bed before going out,” You informed her. “My mother will be watching her, so I’d say around nine. Does that work for you?”

“That works for me,” Natasha agreed. 

“Okay then, Natasha,” You smiled, wondering if she could hear it in your voice. “I’ll see you then.”

“Great, see you then.” Natasha mirrored your excitement. You hung up the phone and tucked it into your back pocket. You walked back over to Monica, trying to hide your excitement, but she noticed immediately. 

She gave you a silent questioning look and you give her a thumbs up in return. This should be fun. 

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

Back inside the recording studio, the band was wrapping up what turned out to be a successful recording session. They’d written one song so far and revised a few Natasha had in her back pocket for times like this. Which was the most progress they’d gotten in a year. Either way, it was a session that left them fulfilled. Natasha stood in front of the microphone, her voice still echoing in the room. She exchanged satisfied smiles with her bandmates before returning her wired headphones to their stand. 

As they wrapped up their belongings Steve spoke up, "Alright, Natasha, we nailed it today. What's the plan for tonight?"

Natasha leaned back against the soundboard, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Oh, you know me, Steve. I'm a creature of habit."

Steve chuckled, "Yeah, we all are, aren't we? It's one big codependent family."

Natasha nodded, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. "True, but you guys like it that way."

Steve smirked, "And you do too."

Natasha sighed playfully, "Alright, you caught me. I have a thing."

The moment she mentioned 'a thing,' the rest of the group became intrigued. Tony, Bucky, and Wanda started bombarding her with questions, eager to know more. They were known for their tight-knit bond, often spending their evenings together.

Tony asked, grinning, "What kind of thing? Spill the beans, Red!"

Natasha tried to deny it, but under the pressure of their excited curiosity, she finally admitted, "Okay, okay! I'm going to Heatwave, a club downtown. I'm meeting up with a new friend."

Immediately, it was settled - if Natasha was going out, they were all going out. Tony's eyes gleamed with mischief, "Sounds like a party! Can we come too?"

Natasha hesitated for a moment, thinking about the guys' tendency to get a little rowdy. Then she relented, "Alright, fine. We can all go."

Steve high-fived Tony, and Bucky and Wanda exchanged excited glances. "This is gonna be awesome!" Steve exclaimed. Though he wasn’t much of a partier he loved exploring new places. 

Natasha couldn't help but grin at their enthusiasm, "Yeah, let's hope it's good, then."

With the decision made, the band members packed up their instruments, ready for another night on the town. 

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

As you stood before the bathroom mirror in your finest party outfit, face and hair all done up, the room around you painted a stark contrast. The soft notes of Beyonce’s “Yes” played in the background as you prepared for your night out. The bathroom was a chaotic scene, messy and disheveled, with makeup and hair curlers scattered haphazardly. Clothes lay strewn on the floor and over the edge of the bathtub. The countertop was cluttered with various cosmetic products, their caps discarded carelessly.

A hairbrush, half-buried under a pile of clothes, seemed to have given up on its role in maintaining order. The floor bore the evidence of spilled powders and makeup brushes discarded in haste.

Isabella, standing in the doorway, disapproved of this sight. Her usually tidy nature couldn't help but frown at the disarray. With her wide, disapproving eyes, she silently conveyed her thoughts to you. “Why must it be so messy in here?”

“Must? I knew I was creating a bougie child,” You laughed to yourself, applying the final remnants of your makeup.

“I’m not bougie. I just go to a good school,” Isabella quipped. She stood with her arms folded her expression showing her unhappiness with the looks of your room. 

"I know I pay the high tuition bill remember?" You mutter. Sierra Canyon was a school worth every bit of the $35,000 tuition. Even if it did hurt you to sign that check every year. “Well, I’ll pay you twenty dollars to clean it up,” You offer.

“Forty and we have a deal,” She counters. 

“Forty?” You asked incredulously. 

“Inflation, Mama,” Isabella explains as if it’s obvious. “My favorite toys aren’t cheap anymore.”

“I see,” You mumble. “You drive a hard bargain, but you have a deal.” You turn back to the mirror. 

You did a spin to get Isabella’s final say. You wore a black backless draped split dress that reached mid-thigh, perfectly complemented by your sleek, hair slicked into a bun with two small bangs framing your face. The finishing touches of makeup were precise, accentuating your features with a subtle, smoky eye and a deep red lip. 

“You look really good,” Isabella nodded. 

“Not too trampy?” You asked and she shook her head. 

“Not,” Isabella said. 

“You know that was kind of a test and you failed?” You sighed. “Your dad lets you watch reality TV at his place again?”

“Maybe,” Isabella pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. She was not one to tell. 

You couldn't help but smile. You bent down to Isabella's level and planted a series of gentle kisses all over her cheeks, as she mostly wiped them off with a giggle. 

“Oh, Isabella Marie, my little artist," You chuckled, feigning scandalization. "You've ruined my masterpiece!"

Isabella just laughed, her eyes sparkling with admiration for you. She reached up to touch the necklace you were wearing, a subtle gesture of appreciation.

You took Isabella's hand and said, "Come on, it's time for bed."

“I really should try to convince you to let me stay up later,” Isabella commented as she allowed you to drag her out to the living room. 

You made your way to her bedroom, where you tucked her in with great care.

“Did you brush your teeth?” You asked as you rearranged her pillows. 

“Yep,” Isabella nodded. “And I washed my face.”

“Good girl,” You praised her. 

As you smoothed the covers over Isabella and adjusted her stuffed animals, Isabella reminded you with a bright smile, "Mama, remember, I have Lenny’s skating birthday party tomorrow. You said we'd go together."

You leaned in and kissed Isabella's forehead, making sure to wipe her face free of your makeup, as your heart warmed by your daughter's excitement. "Of course. We’ll be there. Now sleep, I love you.”

“Read me a story?” She begged in anticipation of your answer. 

“One story,” You warned her before walking over to her bookshelf. You grabbed Hair Love by Matthew Cherry, one of her favorites these days. You sat beside her, offering her your best voice as you began to read to her. Isabella leaned into your body. When you were done, her eyes drooped with drowsiness as she whispered a contented, "Goodnight, Mama.”

“Goodnight, my precious girl. Sweet dreams." You turned off the bedside lamp, leaving the room in a warm, cozy darkness. With one final kiss, you left Isabella to her dreams. 

With your preparations complete, you rushed out of Isabella’s bedroom and headed for the kitchen. Time was of the essence. In your hurry, you grabbed your purse and a bottle of water from the fridge. With a sigh of relief, you twisted open the cap and took a long, refreshing sip.

As you did, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze appraising your outfit with a discerning eye.

"You're going out looking like that?" Her mother's tone was a mix of concern and disapproval.

“What don’t you like my outfit?” You turned to face her with a determined look. Your mother sighed but said nothing. "Yes, Mom. I've already put Isabella to bed, and I'll be back by two at the latest."

Your mother's expression softened, but she couldn't hide her worry. "Y/n, you know I worry when you go out so late."

You smiled reassuringly. "I know, Mom, but I never go out anymore. It’s all mom's life and work. I just want to have some fun with friends tonight. I promise to be careful."

“That only makes me feel slightly better,” She shook her head. 

"I'll leave my phone on in case of an emergency, okay?" You promised her. 

Your mother nodded; her eyes filled with maternal concern. "Alright, but you better answer if I call."

You laughed softly and hugged your mother. "I promise. You can count on me."

With a final smile and a quick kiss on her cheek, you left the kitchen, hoping to catch your Uber before it was too late. 

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

As Natasha and the rest of Velvet Rebellion arrived at Heatwave, the vibrant thump of bass and the lively chatter of the crowd spilled into the street. The atmosphere was electric, and it was clear that the club lived up to its reputation. There was a line wrapped around the entrance, everyone attempting to get to the same point. 

Natasha was sure they would be able to get in unscathed. However, as they approached the entrance, it became evident that someone had tipped off the paparazzi about their plans. As soon as they exited the car, flashbulbs began to pop, and reporters shouted questions. Natasha and Wanda, not yet accustomed to such situations, swiftly made their way inside, their confidence unshaken.

The boys followed closely behind, with security personnel discreetly positioned around them. However, the security was mostly unnecessary. Velvet Rebellion wasn't a superstar band, and they had no intention of acting like one. They were here to enjoy the music and the vibes, just like any other patrons.

Once inside, the pulsating rhythm of the club enveloped them. Heatwave was a mix of hip-hop, reggae, rock, and everything in between. The diverse crowd danced and mingled, creating an intoxicating blend of cultures and energies. The dimly lit club was a sanctuary for adults, a place where the music was loud, and the energy was contagious.

Natasha and her bandmates moved deeper into the club, losing themselves in the music and the seamless fusion of genres. The vibes were indeed immaculate, and they were ready to savor every moment of the night, leaving their fame behind for a while and simply being themselves - music lovers enjoying a night out.

Wanda, swept up in the excitement of the club's atmosphere, leaned in closer to Natasha and shouted over the thumping bass, "Hey, Nat I'll find us a booth! Tony's going to grab drinks for everyone!"

Natasha nodded and gave her a thumbs-up before deciding to excuse herself to the bathroom. The path to the restroom was a maze of dancing bodies and neon lights. A few girls recognized her and attempted to approach her for autographs or selfies, but Natasha simply smiled and waved, preferring to do things in peace. She could feel the presence of her security guard, Mike, behind her as she stepped into the bathroom. He waited outside of course. 

After freshening up in the bathroom, Natasha emerged and found herself back in the crowded club. As she navigated the sea of people, she accidentally bumped into someone. Before she could react, her security personnel stepped forward, ready to intervene. However, Natasha recognized the person she had bumped into and quickly raised a hand to stop her security detail.

“Mike, it’s okay,” Natasha nodded to him. 

It was you.  A hint of amusement danced in your eyes as you noted the security presence. You couldn't help but think of the time when you, too, needed security. Back when your father was at the height of his career. Now not so much. 

Despite the loud music, you managed to engage in a conversation, leaning close to hear each other over the thumping bass.

Natasha, with a playful smile, observed you, her eyes raking over your bad in a way that sent chills up your spine. "You look stunning tonight. That dress suits you."

"Why, thank you, Natasha. You look great too.” You lightly touched her arm. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too.” Natasha shouted over the music. "Life's been busy."

You nodded in understanding, "Tell me about it. It's been a whirlwind."

Natasha's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "What's new with you? How have you been?"

You leaned in closer, your lips almost brushing against Natasha's ear as you shouted above the music. "Lots of work, but tonight, I'm here to let loose. What about you? Any new songs in the works?"

Natasha nodded with a grin. "Always working on something.”

“That’s good then,” You smile back. You blink at her through your thick lashes before your eyes scan the room. “I see you brought your friends.”

“I have,” Natasha stepped a bit closer, though it was subtle, and you didn’t notice. You liked feeling the warmth radiating from her. “They wouldn’t let me come alone.”

“Gotta love them,” You joked. “Care to dance?” You ask. 

“Lead the way,” Natasha takes your hand as you drag her onto the dance floor. She pretends she’s not checking out your ass but when you look back you nearly catch her. Funny. 

Just as you and Natasha hit the dance floor, the DJ transitioned into a surprising mix of "What Is Love" by Haddaway and "In Da Club" by 50 Cent. The blend of the '90s dance classic and the early 2000s hip-hop anthem was unexpectedly catchy, and the crowd roared in approval.

Natasha was a fantastic dancer, her movements fluid and precise. You were equally impressive, managing to keep up with Natasha's rhythm effortlessly. Your bodies moved in perfect sync as you joined the sea of people on the dance floor.

The atmosphere was lively, energetic, and incredibly fun. Laughter and cheers filled the air as the club-goers embraced the unexpected combination of music with enthusiasm. The dance floor seemed to vibrate with the collective joy of everyone present.

You couldn't help but enjoy having Natasha so close. Her skin against your fingertips felt like heaven. The way her hands rested gently against your back. It was intimate, warm, and sensual despite the tempo of the music. 

As the music continued to pulse through the club and once you were all danced out, bodies slick with sweat, you led Natasha to a booth where her bandmates were already seated. Their faces lit up with excitement as they spotted Natasha. It’s then you noticed Monica was already sitting amongst the rockstars somehow having made it past security. 

“There you are,” Monica smiled sweetly. “You two were on fire out there. I was just making friends with our new family.” She said despite the quizzical looks. You reciprocated her hug as you whispered low into her ear. 

“I hate you so much,” You growled. 

“I love you too,” Monica laughed. 

"Natasha, this is Monica," you said, introducing your best friend to the redhead. 

Monica extended a friendly hand and smiled, though there was a hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Nice to meet you, Natasha."

Natasha returned the smile warmly, "Likewise, Monica."

As everyone settled into the booth, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Monica was cautious but kind, warming up to Natasha as they chatted about various topics. The club atmosphere had a way of breaking down barriers, and it wasn't long before they were all laughing and enjoying each other's company.

Somewhere along the way, the group decided to order a mix of different foods and drinks, sharing bites and sips as the night wore on. On the booth, Natasha sat next to you, the two of you sharing a closeness that was hard to ignore. During the lively conversations and the infectious rhythm of the music, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that someone in the crowd had their phone out, possibly recording you. The thought bothered her, but you kept her engaged and distracted, your charm and energy captivating.

There was a break in the peace Natasha felt as her sharp eyes caught sight of her ex-girlfriend, Carol Danvers, making her way towards the booth. Natasha knew that this could potentially lead to a problem, so she decided to intercept Carol before things escalated. 

“Excuse me for a moment,” Natasha sighed. She was not expecting this to happen tonight of all nights. You watch the two of them walk away before turning your attention back to the group. It was none of your business. "Carol, hi, let me talk to you.” Natasha wanted to take action before the mess. The last thing she needed was a problem when there was none. 

She gently guided Carol to a more private corner where the music was lower, allowing them to have a conversation without distractions. As they stood facing each other, Natasha's demeanor was polite but distant. She wasn't fond of talking to Carol but wanted to ensure she was okay.

“I see you’re having fun,” Carol rubbed her sweaty hands against her jeans. Her eyes looked a little bloodshot, the deep bags being covered by concealer and heavy makeup. In all honesty, Natasha could tell Carol was not in her correct frame of mind. Whether that was due to lack of sleep or something else wasn’t her responsibility.  Carol's voice quivered with emotion as she spoke, "You look good."

“Thank you,” Natasha sighed and shook her head, her expression a mix of sadness and resolution. "Carol, it's not worth it. We've been through this."

“I know,” Carol nodded. “I just wanted to say hello.” 

Natasha found Carol’s meek demeanor unsettling. It was so unlike her. Again, not her problem. 

“Look, it was good to see you,” Natasha peaked back at the booth to see you were laughing with Monica about something. “Take care of yourself.” Natasha rubs a hand over Carol’s arm before walking away. She was not in the mood to be dealing with this right now. When she sits down again, it takes a moment for her to reacclimate with the group, her feelings of dread and the aftermath of the breakup all taking over again. 

You noticed the change in her demeanor and decided to check in on her.

With genuine concern in your eyes, you asked softly, "Natasha, is everything okay?"

Natasha tried to feign a smile, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... old memories, you know?"

You nodded, understanding that sometimes the past had a way of sneaking up on you. You decided to lift the mood by embracing the party spirit. As fans approached you for pictures, only allowed with the say-so of security, you graciously obliged, even though you weren’t used to so much attention. Having a famous family meant everyone assumed you were someone to know too.  The smiles on their faces and their gratitude brought a spark of joy to the night.

However, Natasha's mood didn't seem to improve. You could see the lingering discomfort on her face and sensed that Natasha might need a change of scenery. You leaned in closer to Natasha and asked, "You sure you're okay, Natasha? If you want, we can get out of here."

Natasha appreciated your concern and gave you a small, genuine smile. "Isn’t this your friend’s party?”

“Alicia? She’ll understand,” You grinned. “I’m a mom.” You shrug. 

“How many times have you used that excuse?” Natasha questioned. 

“Once or twice,” You laughed. 

“I think that might be a good idea then." Natasha leaned over to whisper to Wanda that she was leaving. Wanda narrowed her eyes between the two of you but ultimately said nothing. 

“Monica, I’m leaving with Natasha,” You informed your best friend. “I love you.” “Love you too,” Monica smiled briefly. “Call me tomorrow and tell me everything.” She said a bit lower. 

“I will,” You roll your eyes. 

As you made your way towards the exit, Natasha felt grateful for your understanding and support. As you neared the club's exit, you leaned in closer to Natasha and suggested, "Let's use the back exit. It's a quicker way out, and we can avoid the paparazzi."

Natasha nodded in agreement, appreciating your thoughtfulness. She followed you towards the inconspicuous back exit, with Mike, Natasha's security guard, close behind. The corridor was dimly lit, and the sounds of the club faded away with each step.

Walking side by side, you and Natasha found a comfortable silence between you. Natasha appreciated the quiet respite after the club's raucousness. 

Then, without hesitation, you reached out and gently took Natasha's hand. It was a bold move, and Natasha's heart skipped a beat. The connection felt warm and reassuring, 

Natasha looked at you, her eyes softening with gratitude. Your fingers entwined, as you continued down the dimly lit sidewalk together, taking comfort in the simple act of holding hands, a gesture of comfort and support.

“Downtown Los Angeles is not exactly the safest place to hang out at night,” You point out. 

“Did you have anywhere in mind?” Natasha questions. “I’m not really ready to go home yet.’

“How about here?” You point to the restaurant just across the street. It was settled. 

You and Natasha walked into the small Japanese food restaurant and were greeted by a soothing ambiance of sleek and modern dining. The interior featured clean lines, polished wooden tables, and elegant, dimmed lighting that created a cozy yet sophisticated atmosphere. The walls were adorned with tasteful Japanese-inspired artwork, adding to the restaurant's aesthetic appeal.

Despite the late hour, they were still open, and there weren't many people left in the restaurant. The subdued chatter of a few diners in hushed conversations added to the tranquil atmosphere.

The restaurant staff welcomed you and Natasha with warm smiles, happy to accommodate your late-night visit. You were ushered to a well-appointed table with comfortable seating, creating a sense of intimacy in the otherwise empty space.

Once seated, you took the lead in order, your familiarity with the menu evident. You chose the baked crab hand rolls, a delectable choice known for its rich flavors and delicate textures, and edamame with a sprinkle of salt for a simple and satisfying appetizer.

Natasha decided to indulge in a sushi sampler, intrigued by the restaurant's offerings. She also ordered drinks for you to share, wanting to continue the evening in a relaxed and enjoyable manner, free from the distractions of the outside world.

As you waited for the food to arrive, you turned your attention to Natasha, your expression carrying a hint of concern.

"Natasha, "You began hesitantly, "Can you tell me more about Carol? Should I be worried about her showing up like that?"

Natasha sighed, recognizing the need for honesty. She leaned in, speaking softly, "Carol is my ex-girlfriend. We used to be really close, and she was a good person, but lately, she's been caught up in the wrong crowd. I've been trying to keep my distance from all of that."

Caught up in the wrong crowd could mean a host of things in the industry. Drugs were usually the most common. Though you didn't press for her to elaborate.

You listened attentively, her concern deepening. "Do you think she's going to be a problem?"

Natasha could see your question for what it was. Was she going to be a problem in whatever potential the two of you could have? 

Natasha shook her head, her gaze reassuring. "No, nothing like that. She's just... lost, for now. I don't want you to worry about it. I'm doing my best to stay out of any trouble, especially now."

You nodded, appreciating Natasha's honesty and the effort she was making to ensure your time together was free from complications. You reached out and gently squeezed Natasha's hand, silently conveying your support. 

You leaned in closer and admitted, "I understand, Natasha. My ex and I co-parent Isabella, and it wasn't always easy either. But we've found our way." You shrugged. 

Natasha appreciated the understanding and felt a connection with you as you shared your experiences. 

Then, the conversation took a different turn, and Natasha's curiosity got the better of her. She leaned in with a playful glint in her eyes and said, "Alright, enough about my drama. I want to know more about you. You downplayed your singing career at the party. Backup?”

“You’ve done your research,” You chuckled at the playful teasing but then became more serious as you responded, "You're right. Singing has always been my love, my passion. But the demanding career and the lack of privacy that comes with it gets to you after a while. That's why I love being a publicist. It allows me to stay in the industry that I adore but from a different angle, more behind the scenes. It gives me room to breathe and a sense of control over my life."

Natasha nodded in understanding, appreciating your candor. She could see the sincerity in your eyes as you spoke about your career and the choices you had made. It was clear that you had found a balance that worked for you, and Natasha respected you for it.

When the food arrived, you immediately dug into your meal. Your curiosity got the better of you, and you asked Natasha, "Do you and your band have a publicist or a manager?"

Natasha smirked playfully, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "Is it that obvious? I guess it's the many times Tony's been arrested.” Natasha began to list. “Or the time I punched paparazzi for trying to take a picture at an awkward angle.” She grimaced. 

You couldn't help but laugh at Natasha's observation. "Well, those incidents might have given it away a bit."

Natasha's smile faded slightly as she confessed, "Honestly, I know we need someone to manage us, but I've never felt entirely comfortable with the idea. It's like giving up a piece of our freedom and creativity. We've managed so far, but I know it can't go on like this forever."

You nodded in understanding, recognizing the challenges that came with managing a successful music career independently. You asked, "Do you have anyone in mind for the role, someone you might trust enough to bring into the fold?"

Natasha thought for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "Possibly. It's a big decision, and I want to make sure it's the right fit for us, you know? We've been doing this our way for so long that it's hard to let go."

“Well, when you’re ready, I’m your gal,” You offered your services. “I also may have a few wild cards that would work perfectly.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Natasha sips from her cup. 

As the night drew to a close, you found yourselves waiting on a quiet street corner for your Uber to arrive. The bustling energy of the club was a distant memory, replaced by the calm of the late-night city.

Natasha looked at you with a genuine smile and said, "I had a lot of fun tonight, y/n. Thank you."

You returned the smile, your heart warmed by Natasha's words. "I did too, Natasha. It was great getting to know you."

The streets were mostly empty, and the city was bathed in the soft glow of streetlights. There was a moment of silence as you stood together, the unspoken tension of the night hanging in the air.

Then, as if guided by an invisible force, Natasha leaned in and softly pressed her lips against yours. It was a gentle, lingering kiss that sent shivers down your spine. Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn't help but smile.

Breaking the kiss, you teased, "Well, that's a surprise ending for the night."

Natasha chuckled and replied, "I couldn't resist."

“Don’t worry, I liked it,” You grinned. You leaned forward, kissing Natasha again, lingering when your lips pressed before you pulled back. 

The distant sound of the approaching Uber pulled you back to reality. Your ride had arrived. You exchanged one last lingering look, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you had shared that evening.

With a soft goodbye, you climbed into the waiting car, and Natasha watched as it drove away into the night. As she walked away, Natasha couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for the unexpected and unforgettable night she had just experienced.

---> next part

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 8th: Rockstar | Times Like These - Foo Fighters | Confident a/n: rockstar!eddie & corroded coffin. steddie. suggestive themes but not explicit. un-betaed because I’m challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

When Eddie was a teenager, he pictured himself on stage, surrounded by pyrotechnics and aggressive bass riffs. His hair was long, his skin mottled in tattoos with maybe a love bruise or two, and his favorite ruby red guitar slung low to his hips as he belts his vocals into the microphone. 

All but the last part comes true. 

He does end up sweaty from the heat of the fire cannons on either side of their set. Freak shreds his bass every fucking show, his fingers undoubtedly calloused beyond repair. Eddie’s hair gets in his face as he plays his own guitar, his Sweetheart, but he doesn’t get to sing. 

That’s all Steve. 

Unassuming, surprisingly talented Steve Harrington who Eddie discovers can fucking sing when he’s home from a tour, driving around together through the empty streets of Hawkins, Indiana. The 90s bring a new landscape to heavy metal and rock and roll, and as cocky as Eddie might be, as confident as he is when it comes to his music, he can see when someone has one up on him. Steve’s rendition of The Foo Fighters’ Good Grief as he drums along on the steering wheel sets his heart aflame– and maybe another appendage that he’s tried to ignore for the better part of ten years. 

Steve agrees to join the band with a heavy bit of convincing, agreeing only when Eddie offers to retain his role as frontman.

I don’t wanna be a rockstar, Ed. That’s all you. 

The band truly takes off when Steve joins, his voice adding a different flavor and Eddie’s backing vocals rounding out their sound. Eddie tells Steve night after night, show after show, that he’s happy he’s there, because he is. Maybe being in love with his bandmate hadn’t part of the teenage fantasy, but it’s become his favorite part of the reality, even if it’s one-sided or unrequited. His skin remains unbruised, no groupies or flings to be found, but he’d prefer a blank canvas over meaningless artistry anyways. 

They end up touring again, exploring the country and parts of Canada together but always with different hotel rooms. Eddie never minds sharing with Gareth, or Jeff, or Freak but he also doesn’t make a habit of thinking about their dicks. 

After their show in Toronto, the end of this leg of their tour, Eddie and the rest of the band celebrate in Eddie’s room– it’s the biggest of their block and Eddie won rock-paper-scissors to claim the lone room this time around. 

Drinks flow, smoke from their joints curl out the window screen into the night, and before Eddie realizes it’s happened, he’s left alone with Steve.

Steve, who hasn’t had a thing to drink and only a few puffs of his joint, but is laying across the bed with his feet crossed at the ankles and his head resting in Eddie’s lap anyways. Steve, who Eddie listens to as he hums the melody of their encore and whose hair he can’t help but thread through his fingers. Steve, who Eddie has been watching night after night sing the words Eddie’s written himself, some of which are about Steve. 

It’s a dangerous position to be in. 

“Gettin’ tired yet, Harrington?” Eddie asks, grinning as Steve rolls his eyes. 

“Oh, we’re back to Harrington now, Munson?” 

Eddie just shrugs and continues playing with Steve’s hair. It’s soft, still damp from his shower, and Eddie’s surprised he hasn’t shoved him off yet with some comment about how he’s gonna fuck it up. But he doesn’t, and Eddie doesn’t know what to make of that. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve asks, shifting his gaze from the ceiling to Eddie’s eyes. “It’s weird.” 

“I contain multitudes, don’t try to make me some one-dimensional agent of chaos.” 

Steve laughs and it’s better than any song Eddie’s ever written. And he’s written some damn good songs, if he does say so himself. 

Eddie lets out a little oof as Steve sits up, bracing himself on Eddie’s stomach to turn and face him. There’s something in Steve’s expression that Eddie can’t place– searching eyes, furrowed brows, one corner of his lips quirked up. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You just did.” 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?” 

“I do, actually. But yeah, go ahead.” Eddie bites his bottom lip and shrugs.

“How come you never wanna share a room with me?” 

Eddie just about chokes on nothing, inhaling oxygen into the wrong pipe or something. His ears turn red, a tell that no amount of shaking his hair out can hide, at least not from Steve. He feels the soft skin of Steve’s hand graze his cheek as he tucks hair back behind his right ear, exposing the bright red shade of embarrassment. 

“Is it me? I can’t imagine that I, Steve Harrington, make you, big ol’ Rockstar Eddie Munson, uncomfortable after all these years.” 

You motherfucker, Eddie thinks, his mouth a little behind the speed of his thoughts, effectively leaving him speechless. 

“Little bit, actually,” Eddie manages to admit. 

He shouldn’t admit anything, but he’s alone in this quiet room with the boy he’s loved for so many years, who’s touching him like he loves him, too. Who can blame him?

“How come?” Steve whispers, his lips suddenly closer, their noses nearly touching. Eddie may or may not be breathing, but he tries. Fainting would definitely kill whatever this energy is between them. 

“Ed, c’mon. Just, just tell me you want me, too. Please.” 

Too? He thinks.

“Too?” He asks.

Steve smiles and nods, running his thumb across Eddie’s chapped lower lip before resting his palm against his cheek. 

“Too.” 

—

The following morning, Eddie and Steve meet up with the rest of the band in the hotel restaurant for breakfast– or, well, brunch at best given the time they actually make it downstairs. 

“Notice you stayed in Eddie’s room last night,” Jeff asks, one eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead as his eyes flit back and forth from Steve to the very clear, purpling bruise on Eddie’s collarbone. 

“Astute observation,” Eddie grins and answers for him, digging into the stack of pancakes in front of him, ravenous. 

“Sure did,” Steve just grins, shrugging as he shifts in his seat. 

Gareth, Freak, and Jeff all exchange a look, the kind of look that comes with inside jokes and long-suffering waiting. 

“Wait–” Steve starts, pointing an accusing finger at Jeff. “You all left early on purpose, didn’t you?”

Gareth laughs the hardest, rivaled only by Eddie who watches them all with incredulity as Jeff parrots Steve with casual confidence. 

“Sure did.” 

[brights-place]

Hi, could I request a Riff x quiet shy reader?

Like, someone who has a passion for rock like Riff but is too shy to display their talent, but Riff loves them anyway despite their shyness (in fact he finds it cute)

(It can be fluff or Nsfw)

Riff X Introvert! S/O

Pairings: Riff X Reader

Warnings: Fluff, FOR MY FELLOW INTROVERTS!

A/N: Riff is so underrated like PLEASE! look at him he is so VGASJNVHWEHNB anyways I hope you enjoy this one I’m like contemplating my life choices lmaooo

- You and Riff were an iconic pair riff being sleezy and the mellow guy yet still being a little mischievous while you were relaxed, calm and didn't really have that much energy like other rock trolls! - How wrong was everyone! especially riff who thouht you were boring and not really a rock troll - but when he saw the passion you had while playing 'I am a poser' on your guitar he was wide eyed and enjoyed seeing you jam out - You were more introverted and riff would always be the one to speak up and have an arm around your shoulder or waist lazily - literally loves how shy you are but is also flustered at how badass you look when playing your instruments - He loves jamming out with you together as he enjoys seeing that wicked smile on your face as you do the rock n roll sign at the end of every song cheering about how good it was to be able to rock out with riff -Riff knew that even though you don't feel comfortable expressing aaround others that your always happy to just be around with yoru fellow rock trolls quietly headbanging scared that you would scare the other rock trolls - Riff loves to cuddle with you when they're alone and would smooch your cheek

- Only YOU! can wear his beanie and take it off of his face when your alone he enjoys it and would kiss you - Riff likes to tease you but always in a lighthearted way.

- Riff often seeks out your opinion and values your input in some situations because your his partner and wants to know how you would feel about what he does - Riff and you are always finding new bands to listen to and discovering new songs together to jam out too

- Riff loves that you have your very own little record collection full of both of your favorite albums

- Riff tries to help you get better with your social skills and be able to rock out with the others - After awhile though riff showed you how to get better at opening up - when barb and carol walked in on you headbanging and shouting the lyrics to a song riff was smiling that you were acutally rocking out happily - Thing is though riff didn't tell you he brought them over and the fact barb was so excited to see this side of you hell even carol was so happy! - Riff loves your small habit of asking him to drum to random songs you have heard while listening to music together

- Riff always encourages you to practice guitar and helps you with music theory and techniques well the techniques he was given by barb when he first tried to play guitar but failed and instead chose drums

- Both of you are always making your own music together jamming on guitar and drums and coming up with new tunes together happily

- When riff convinced you to jam out in public spaces and preform so he was happy that you accepted that idea after a while of contemplating you both occasionally perform at small live shows or open mic nights and are always have a great time and get a great reception

- He enjoys being with you no matter what and would like to help you be more open so when he succeeds he cheers to himself

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[hispieceofcake]

🎸MY THOUGHTS AND HEADCANONS TO ADAM FROM HAZBIN HOTEL - (for now)🍖

Hello hello folks, I've been thinking about writing about this post/blog for a while now and here it is, because Adam is my favorite character (obsession) and I have a lot of things in my head that I need share before I kidnap someone to listen to me talk about it for hours on end.

Hahaha I'm just kidding...or am I?

TW: Mention of profanity and sex.

I'm writing this blog because I have a lot to say about Adam and I think I'm already bothering my friends too much (just kidding, I'm going to keep filling them with Adam until I say enough is enough🤓👆)

Alright, let's start, firstly I was already a big fan of Hazbin hotel's work since the time Vizziepop had released the pilot on YouTube at the time of on October 28, 2019, and man, I was simply OBSESSED with the work, I had no idea who Adam was at that time, I was only 11 years old (And I know, I know, Hazbin Hotel was not and is not intended for minors, but I didn't have internet surveillance on my parents, so that's what happened and now I'm 18 years old).

And boy, oh boy

I was in complete EUPHORIA when it became public on August 7, 2020 that Hazbin Hotel was going to have a sequel on Amazon, I only knew how to talk about it and was excited waiting for the release date.

And when I watched that episode where Charlie has a meeting with Adam...I was like "THAT MAN, I NEED THAT MAN‼️‼️"

And that song..."Hell is Forever"... I can't remember a day that I didn't clean the house listening to that sound and pretending the broom was a guitar while I beat my hair like an 80s rocker high (I know, it's an exaggerated comparison but that's how I feel, so let me have it).

Here, listen to this work of art sung by our (MY) beloved Alex Brightman

In addition to the song "Stick it to the man" from the musical "School of rock" that Adam references in one of the items on the list of things to get into paradise, coincidentally his voice actor Alex Brightman also He is the main voice of the song and a character in the musical.

I spent all day listening to her today, but that's the least of it

There are also some songs by other singers that make me think of Adam because of their lyrics, for example Lana del Rey, there is a song of hers that all I think of when I hear it is Adam, unfortunately I can't share it here because it is a discarded song by the singer that I managed to download on a pirated website that has been taken down a while ago.

The songs that make me think of him are "Push me down" and what made me think of Adam is the following part "I'm your little baby doll and you are my mister rock 'n roll", the song "Brooklyn Baby" because of the music part "Well, my boyfriend's in a band, He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed", the others songs are "Say yes to Heaven" and "Angels Forever".

Adam, besides being my favorite character and hyperfocus, was the reason I met the character Beetlejuice (my other hyperfocus) and the voice actor and actor Alex Brightman. Because he was the one who aroused my curiosity to know who his voice actor was since I recognized that his voice was the same as Fizzarolli's, and then when researching and discovering the actor, I also ended up discovering about Beetlejuice, I even have a blog about it, if you want to read it, this is it here.

Just like with Beetlejuice, I'm producing a page with drawings and collages about Adam in my sketchbook that I might post later in a future post about my sketchbook, but that's another topic.

In addition, I'm trying to put together some songs to create a playlist based on him, in it I'm putting rock songs from the 80s that I feel suit him or that he would listen to, some songs by the norwegian singer Aurora which are very reminiscent of and are based on the garden of Eden and Adam from the bible (although the Adam from Hazbin hotel and the one from the bible are completely different).

Some time ago I was writing a fanfic about Adam with an authorial character completely made by me, it was just a fanfic that I had written on character IA but then I decided to write it myself, but I never got around to posting it and kept it stored in my notepad.

The story took place in the timeline of the first season of the series, where heaven discovered that demons and beings from hell now possessed angelic fist weapons and could hurt or kill the exterminating angels after the death of one of the exterminating angels, they would need a new strategy or a new "weapon", and then with the decision of God and all the seraphim, she was created, an angel made to protect heaven and bring back balance by killing sinners in hell, her name was Angelita, and she would be handed over to Adam who would have to train her until the day of the next day of extermination (which would be the day in which Adam dies), throughout the story Adam would begin to feel something for her, unlike Lilith and Eve, he would fall in love out of true love and not obligation, this love between the two would be something forbidden (as a metaphor for the forbidden fruit of Eden) since by God's order she would have to be pure and virgin and that Adam would not fall into temptation for her, I won't tell the rest of the story, if you want I'll make a post just about that (I'll leave you curious hehe), all I can say is that Adam will not die and the ending is tragic, for all sides.

🤘🏻MY HEADCANONS ABOUT ADAM🎸

These headcanons are some things I thought Adam might like, do, or make me think of him, and I'm also writing this because most of the headcanons I find about him are about sex or couples things (Not that they're bad, some are actually quite cute and I read them when I need comfort), so I'm here to contribute some content just about him.

• About how he feels about have been betrayed

I know, Adam is not the best person in the world but man, he is not a monster, he is a human, the first human, unfortunately, human nature is curious and destructive, not that this is an excuse for everything Adam committed. But then I think, "How much did it hurt to be cheated on twice?", "Did he feel worthless, insufficient?", I know how much it hurts to be cheated on, then I think how bad he felt and feels, but he hides it all behind a false personality of "Dick Master" and "The First Man", titles, high ego and falsehood to hide your real self. The only part of Adam that we were shown about him was him being extremely selfish, rude, arrogant and sexist, but all in scenes where he was exposed to people, people who weren't close to him, and then I wonder if he's just all that, but I feel like Adam he's just a hurt man who hides what he feels behind a false personality, just like Angel Dust does. Proof that he cares about people (at least those he considers close) was his smile at Lute as he slowly lost his life in the arms of the exterminating angel who cried seeing him dying. (I cried so much at this scene 😭)

Adam is a sexist character, I can't deny that, but man, he's the first man, no one ever told him what was right and wrong, they always let him do what he wanted from the beginning of his creation, and even in heaven, but now he had Sera to put him in his place at least when she was around.

I might just be taking a shot in the dark or looking for something good in what isn't there, but that's how I think about Adam, so please let me have this, let me see there's still some good there.

• Adam has a chubby body (like a dad body)

Okay, this one took me a while to think about, because a lot of people draw him thin and we never see him without his tunic, which left me quite confused, but after analyzing some scenes and discovering he was made based on his voice actor (Alex Brightman) I had no more doubts.

In these scenes every time he is squeezed his belly ends up being marked and you can clearly see that he is a little chubby. I know there was that scene with Lilith at the beginning that shows him skinny, but let's face it guys, you can see from his scenes in heaven that he eats a lot, do you really think he wouldn't gain a little weight?

And even Lucifer during the fight in hell against him told Adam that he had really let himself go, kind of like he was different before when he was in the garden of Eden.

Honestly, I don't know why people try to say he's skinny, the fanarts are really beautiful and stuff, but come on, don't you think a chubby Adam would make more sense? I'm not saying this because I love chubby men (I think they're incredibly cute and it makes me want to hug them 😫💗) but I don't know, I just think that with all of his diet, which isn't the best, it made him gain a little weight in the meantime.

• He felt bad about being the only human in heaven

This is because of an art I saw on Pinterest and it made me reflect on it. Like, when he got to heaven he was the only one with human appearance, all other angels and winners (human souls who reach heaven) had different appearances, such as animal appearances, for example Molly, Angel Dust's sister, who is a spider.

So I think he may have made that mask with horns to feel more integrated into that society and less different.

•Adam plays guitar when he's feeling bad (sad, distressed, stuff like that)

I imagine that whenever Adam is feeling sad, distressed or even stressed, he goes somewhere alone and plays his guitar in calm chords expressing what he feels through the melody played, it would be calm notes but full of feelings, his black gloved fingers hitting the strings while all there is in the place are just him, his guitar and his mind, and no one else to see him like that.

I think that whenever he remembers Lilith and Eva's betrayals, he feels at least a little bad, and then playing his guitar stops and takes away all that bad feeling in his chest, even if it just goes away temporarily.

I imagine the following scenario, late afternoon almost dusk as the cotton white clouds take on a yellowish tone as the sun slowly sets bringing the night with it, while the sun brought the night with it, in Adam's chest that bitter feeling grew as memories knocked on the door again, leaving him more moody than usual, making him fly away from the city with his guitar to sit on the golden gates of heaven and as he plays the guitar calmly emptying that feeling from his chest so that the next day he pretends that nothing happened, but he knows, he knows that that will forever be stuck in his mind.

• He's not as popular as he says he is

Going back to that topic I said about him hiding behind a false narcissistic personality and high ego, I think that him being popular is a lie, both sexually and in society, I know, he is the first man and that would make him popular and the fact that he is a guitarist in a band, but think with me, would you like to be in the presence of someone or have relationships with someone who only knows how to curse all the time and talk about himself and how many girls he had sex with over the weekend?

Well, at least I think that everything he says is just stuff to inflate his ego and feel good about himself.

• He likes 80s rock bands

This is just in my head, I feel like Adam would like 80s rock bands like Metallica or Guns N' Roses, maybe even Slipknot, bands in general that have the same type of music that he plays, I also think he enjoys guitar solos like Slash or the solo from the song "Master of puppets".

I also think that his band's style follows the same style as these bands, I don't know, like I said it's just my headcanon.

•Adam has a fear or trauma of apples

This is supposed to be a little funny

This headcanon came to mind when a friend of mine who also knows Hazbin hotel made the joke that Adam is afraid or traumatized by apples because of the whole forbidden fruit of Eden thing and betrayal by Eve.

Imagine, Lute simply eating an apple near him and he freaks out, ripping the apple out of her hands and throwing it away.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

I honestly feel like Adam deserved a chance to change, a chance at redemption, a chance to really be loved and really love, no sex, no divine obligation, just real love.

Well guys that's what I have for now, I'll try to remember more headcanons for a next post, maybe even some +18, but for now that's all I have in my mind.

Thank you so much for reading, kisses in your heart 💗🤘🏻

[get-back-homeward]

By macabre coincidence an event that took place around Bristol marks a major turning point in the story of pop music. Eddie Cochran died hours after appearing at the Bristol Hippodrome in 1960, as part of the Larry Parnes-produced Anglo-American rock ’n’ roll package tour. Two of the people who shared a stage with Cochran that night were Tony Sheridan and a Liverpudlian singer called Johnny Gentle. Both were under contract to Parnes and both would play a significant role in the history of the most influential British act of all time, the Beatles. Sheridan, the first British rock ’n’ roller to sing and play his own guitar live on British TV, would become best known for the recordings he made in Hamburg with the Beatles shortly before they found fame.

Parnes was the first manager in Britain to become as famous as his artists – the Simon Cowell of his day – with a stable of singers including Tommy Steele, Britain’s first real rock ’n’ roll star, Marty Wilde, Billy Fury, Vince Eager and others. He was also homosexual, a dangerous thing to be at a time when gay men were routinely arrested, fined or even imprisoned.

Their tour was due to take a break after a week of shows in Bristol, and Cochran and co-headliner Gene Vincent wanted to get home to America. Cochran was in a hurry to get to London, where he was going to meet up with Vince Eager before the pair flew to the States together, and Cochran and Vincent rented a private hire taxi, driven by George Martin from Hartcliffe, to take them. Shortly after 11pm on 16 April 1960, their car set off from Bristol’s Royal Hotel (now the Bristol Marriott Royal, on College Green) for London Airport.

Sadly, none of the passengers would make their flight. Less than an hour out of Bristol, Martin realised he had taken a wrong turn. On Rowden Hill, a notorious accident black spot near Chippenham, he lost control and the car spun backwards, hitting a lamppost. The impact of the crash sent Cochran up into the roof of the car and forced the rear passenger side door open, throwing him onto the road. Martin and tour manager Patrick Thompkins, who were in the front of the vehicle, were able to walk away uninjured. The three passengers who had occupied the back seat – Eddie, Gene and Eddie’s girlfriend Sharon Sheeley – were lying on the grass verge. All three were rushed to Chippenham Cottage Hospital, before being transferred to St Martin’s Hospital, just outside Bath. Vincent had broken his collarbone, Sheeley was badly bruised and concussed, but Cochran was seriously injured and would not regain consciousness: he died in hospital in Bath the following day. A young police cadet, David Harman, was among those called to help clear the scene after the crash. Harman would later find fame as Dave Dee, front man of the hit group Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky, Mick and Tich.

Three weeks after Cochran’s death, Larry Parnes auditioned the Beatles to act as the backing group to his big signing, Billy Fury. They did not win that booking, but he hired them to play with Johnny Gentle on a short tour of Scotland. All of the Beatles were fans of Cochran and Vincent, and lapped up Gentle’s tales of life on the road with the two big American stars. When the 17-year-old George Harrison discovered that Gentle owned the shirt that Cochran had worn on stage in Bristol for that last show he begged the singer to give it to him.

Excerpt from Darryl W. Bullock's book The Velvet Mafia in The Bristol Magazine [x]

[silversmoke-20]

Yandere Teenage Kraken GenderSwapped!

Ruby Gillman/Ruben Gillman

Shellsea/Shelldon

Contents: Yandere Tendencies, Genderswap au, NSFW content, Dark content, College au, Aged up!, Horny, Cat's are God's!

Ruben Gillman and Shelldon

These two as boys will be nothing more than terrifying. One will be basically a walking horny fish that wants to ravage kiss you and the other is basically clingy and is close to kidnapping saving you from that damn merman, who's making unnecessary glances at your direction.

Shelldon

This merman wouldn't hesitate to well breakup any relationship you were in just to have you. He would demand for you to show him a pic of that gorgeous body so he can Ahem! Relieve himself real quick! In any other situations if you're alone with him get ready for a wild ride.

"Such a naughty Human~, I know you wanted this~"

The moment Shelldon saw Ruben Gillman that kraken prince giving him one of those creepy black eyed stare before heading towards his darling. He knew he had to kill that damn raw calamari bastard.

Shelldon will use all his powers that he cultivated before arriving in Oceanside high and will use his hypnotic signing to have you distance yourself away from the cephalopod or else you can say goodbye to your dear family.

"You've been hanging with that stupid calamari boy. I guess you need to be taught a, "lesson". Get on your knees and let's put that disobedient mouth to proper use~".

Shelldon is a massive control freak and doesn't like it if you disobey him. So he'll blackmail you or use his charismatic and good looks and he'll have you wrapped around his finger.

Be a good little human pet and he won't change your Spotify playlist to only Taylor Swift music.

Ruben Gillman

Oh this sweet summer child is literally down bad for you and he craves your touch, lips, affection and body. Like I'm talking about a touched starve zenitsu begging for any affection, even if it's from inosuke kind cravings.

The moment you rolled passed him on your roller skates with a satchel strapped around your shoulders and giving him a cheeky wink, he knew you and him belong together.

He will try and find out everything of what you liked and Disliked. After Stalking checking out your social media, he discovered you played the drums and guitar and loved to skate. Basically a punk rock darling he never knew he desired.

So after been given an old skateboard given by his father that had a cool blue Cthulhu design on the bottom. He knew he was ready

So noticing this odd blue skinned boy trying to skate on a skateboard had made you want to coach the poor baby how to properly skate. So after teaching him how to skate and do some neat tricks he asked for your number.

"I'm Ruben Gillman, a normal teenage boy!"

Now it's weird that someone half your height has the same dislikes and likes you have would raise some red flags🚩🚩🚩. But humans are stupid you shared more of your interests.

One night he stalked followed you to see you sit out on the end of the pier and writing some lyrics and sketches for some designs and the moment you attempted to get up, your foot slipped on the wet wood and you fell into the water. Ruben knew he had to save you and dove in after you.

"Are you alright Y/n- I mean human?"

Hearing a worried voice, you noticed the voice held your tiny body in his huge rubbery purple four fingered hand. Looking up you see an adorable purple Kraken with a metal crown sitting atop his head. His entire body had this lights stretched across his glowing purple body.

Putting you down on the pier he dove into the waters below and you can only watch the illuminated cephalopod swam away from the mainland.

Now this began your curiosity about this adorable giant sea beast. You decided to head to the pier three nights later and with your guitar, you started playing a song.

Seeing no Kraken in sight you decided to chalk this up to you being delusional and started to pack your things.

Until-

"I like your song, can you play more for me?"

Now this began your friendship with The Kraken and you. Sometimes you had to cancel plans with Ruben and he oddly enough doesn't mind, he also sounds similar to him.

After Shelldon interacted with you, you noticed that Ruben and the kraken had a odd switch to a different personality.

The two separately told you to stay away from that man. But you were human, a stupid little human.

The moment you spent one single day with Shelldon, you're suddenly woken up to see you were in a large cave.

Confused you noticed the rise of water slowly forming nearby and noticed the kraken appearing before you holding something under the water.

Suddenly he throws something out of the water, and too your horror it was Shelldon, who had his chest recently impaled and his lower body in the body of fish tail.

Demanding the kraken to let you go he slowly exits the water with a disappointed look on his face and witnessed him slowly shrinking in size and with a flash of purple light.

Ruben and the Kraken were the same person. And now you could only hope to whatever existing god there is that he wouldn't hurt you.

"Don't worry, I'm going to protect you from those who want to tear us apart."

_____________________

Yooo new teenage kraken x reader content just dropped? Whoohoo!

A gift for @hana-no-seiiki

Also anyone wanna request for more teenage kraken x reader content? Please ask and I'll gladly do so!

[steinwayandhissons]

something im obsessed with about miles’ music (and especially change the show) is the sheer number of references to other songs he makes, including his own - these are the ones i could catch, some may be quite dubiously linked/coincidental but i love discovering all the lyric parallels, please let me know if there are any that ive missed

tell me what you’re feeling (cts 2022)

silverscreen (cdg 2018)

(also science fiction 2018 - arctic monkeys that was released in the same year as coup de grace - i discovered the parallel recently and went insane)

adios ta ra ta ra (also dancefloor reference?) (cts 2022)

don’t let it get you down (cts 2022)

don’t let it get you down (cts 2022)

cold light of the day (cdg 2018)

don’t let it get you down (cts 2022)

come closer (cott 2011)

nothings ever gonna be good enough (cts 2022)

peaches - the stranglers (1977)

adios ta ra ta ra (cts 2022)

psycho killer - talking heads (1977)

tonight (dfwya 2013)

come together - the beatles (1969)

first of my kind (dfwya 2013)

higher ground - stevie wonder (1973)

better than that (dfwya 2013)

four letter word - beady eye (2011) (which miles has posted about on insta)

cry on my guitar (cdg 2018)

the hellcat spangled shalalala - arctic monkeys (2011)

loaded (cdg 2018)

the element of surprise - the last shadow puppets (2016)

paint it, black - the rolling stones (1966)

killing the joke (cdg 2018)

cole porter - you're the top (1989)

looking out my window (b side 2012)

Waiting for that little brown eyed girl, she's coming back

brown eyed girl - van morrison (1967)

My brown eyed girl, you my brown eyed girl

la five four (b side 2018)

I was out of control, I was here for the roll

out of control (dfwya 2013)

But we'll rock as we roll, rev the engines and go, let's get out of control

la five four (b side 2018)

With your fingertips calling on the back of my spine

rearrange (cott 2011)

Magic from your fingers tingles down my spine

this is most likely not a reference but i like the parallels

the wonder (omb 2023)

Seeping on my wishing list, momentary bliss

momentary bliss - gorillaz (2020)

We could do so much better than this, mausoleum faces and momentary bliss

and of course telling the future

adios ta ra ta ra (cts 2022)

one man band - to be released... (2023)

also this is quite dubious but i found it funny so...

adios ta ra ta ra (cts 2022)

hot n cold - katy perry (2008)

special mention to telepathy (not necessarily a song referenced) (cott 2011)

i love the reference to the little flames <3

[hernakedmuse]

Fawnskin

A/N: Okay so I'm new to this Tumblr fanfiction posting. This isn't very good but I feel a lot better when I write what my interests and create as an outlet. This hasn't been edited, fair warning.

Furthermore, I'm new to the Timothée Chalamet fan world, I don't pretend to know everything about him. With that said, please be gentle with me.

Themes: Trans OC, POC OC, an original character created by me, allusions to smut, Timothée pining, OC pining. (I think that's all).

Part 1

When I saw her…when I discovered her…it was tonight.

Tonight began at half past eight on sunset boulevard. It started when I entered the back way of the famous and legendary Viper room.

Small, galley-pathed, and obsidian lack of light. Smelled of so much alcohol I wouldn't dare to light a match…or maybe I would. Sweat and a small amount of alluring filth perfumed beneath,  like a scent of sin and rock and roll. This wasn't my usual scene, it's an interesting scene, a respected scene, a scene too cool for me, but not my scene nonetheless. 

I left my friends at LAVO, wandered down the strip aimlessly just needed some air, and I don't know why. Some unknown force just drew me here…to this claustrophobic nightmare drenched in black.

And then I heard it…her…

I heard synthesizers, drums, and guitars and a loud bass, but…I heard her , I heard her dreamy, yet raspy, tightly-reined yet soft, childlike and pouty yet seductive…voice. I never desired to hear a voice more than hers ever, nothing could compare ever. It was a beautiful whiny, powdery , Punk sounding sort of melodic vocals. I excused myself through the crowd of some young yet mainly middle aged and older crowd in band tees and leather and docs, and I wondered if the angel of this voice was older than she sounded.

But I somehow found myself at the front, right in front of the well used stage and came eye to eye with fishnet legs and teal, patent leather,  pointed toe heels with corset tight straps strangling delicate ankles. It made me want to save those exquisitely dainty ankles, and press a thousand and ten kisses to the ankle bone and her fibula…or tibula? Whatever, I want to kiss and suck every bone of her scrumptious feet.

I allowed my eyes to travel up long, clean-limbed, well formed legs, shapely thighs and and a doll‐like, hourglass figure that suffocated in a half zebra print, half cherry red, strapless dress, that was held together and cinched with zebra print string tied in a shoelace bow, the front…a shuddering, tantalizing, deep cut..almost down to the naval, opening greedy eyes to perky, perfectly rounded, visibly bouncy,  dewy, prettily fawn colored cleavage. I had a new favorite color and I think it might be…fawn.

With every bounce those luscious breasts knocked me out and caused embarrassing stirring in my pants. There was a slit in the middle, due to the dress being a wrap with only the string to hold it together, you could almost see the crotch area, but shapely fawn-colored (fuck me), thighs blocked the image beautifully. 

I was greedy suddenly and my eyes needed to see more, I looked up into the most prettiest face I could remember. Heart-shaped, dark espresso hooded eyes and long, dark sweeping lashes, big,full, lolly red painted lips too big for her delicate jawline, you could tell she's mixed with African-American, so damn beautiful.  And white-gold, blown out hair that fell past her shoulders framed her face in layers. 

She looked at me and I saw God.

—

A month later, in between breakups, I couldn't get her out of my head. I had gone back to the Viper Room to see if she would be there again but she wasn't. I asked the booking agent the name of the band, but she just laughed at me.

Why was it impossible to find her? I couldn't get her out of my head, she was like a nymph, a secretive mystery embodied in unknown desire. Fawn-colored skin, clean-limbed legs and white-sugar blonde hair, and that voice…like Nancy Sinatra but naughtier yet more innocent.

I gotta stop this obsession, but there's something about…this wasn't very healthy…

I woke up at two in the morning, wired like I was on something. I pulled on my sweatpants and a hoodie, I slipped on my Adidas and headed out, I just had to have the night (or early morning) air hit my face and wake me from these endless dreams.

I ended up driving around, Cudi's latest on low, the streets were surprisingly alive, but it is L.A. on a Thursday night.

But then I saw her, was I imagining her? Because those legs and that petite height were definitely that of a dream. I did a u-turn to see the front just to confirm that I am indeed losing my mind and it is someone else.

But walking past Mel's drive in, in a long teddy coat falling off her shoulders, a ripped, wine red turtleneck dress that's ripped and ribbed with safety pins in the tears, hugged her body like a pin up, making it painfully obvious she wasn't wearing a bra again. I slowed my bmw 5 series, the windows thankfully tinted. Those shapely legs encased in ripped fishnets again, velour , leopard print platform boots pounded the avenue, giving the illusion of average height. Her elvish blonde hair was up in a pretty, messy updo, held up hazardly by pins, her layered bangs framed her doll face, she had heroin chic smokey eyes and her lips painted a quietly provocative, nude-brown, almost fawn-colored..tone. safety pins adorned her ear as earrings and a black, patent leather, heart shaped bag dangled from her hands. 

Before I could stop myself, I rolled down the window. I looked like a crazy person, but maybe she wouldn't be too scared, I'm famous enough right? God, that sounded arrogant.

"Hey, hi! " I hope my hazardous greeting didn't come out too harsh. 

She stopped abruptly, looking every bit of the word startled. Like a deer in the headlights, her dark chocolate eyes widened and she looked up before looking around then down.

I felt like a creep, I didn't like seeing that expression on her face but…but this was a rare chance to find her again, it's been an entire month! I can't go through that again, I don't even know her goddamn name!

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you, I know this looks weird." I ran a hand through my curls.

She looked up, a hint of recognition flickered in her eyes before she stared down again.

"I saw your show at the Viper Room last month. But I never got your name, I had to meet my friends and left…".

I didn't really know what else to say.

She crossed her legs a little, bending her knee a bit, biting her sensuous full bottom lip, I felt stirring in my sweats and was glad I was still in the car.

"Madison." 

The angel speaks.

Her speaking voice is as beautiful as her singing voice. Raspy and light, sweet and scratchy. I wanted to record it. 

Madison, Madison,  Madison…I've heard the name so many times but never once did it sound so pretty.

"Madison." I repeated.

She nodded. "Madison." She smiled, it was small but it felt like she gave me the rarest and most valuable gift. I couldn't help but stare, she's so pretty and delicate.

"Kelly, Madison Kelly." She finished,  she had a dreamy sort of tone to her voice, accent a little valley, you could tell she was from around here and not one of the many transients.

Her voice and her smile was healing and satisfying.

"What's your name?'' She was now relaxing a little more, her smile didn't look to be going anywhere and I couldn't get enough of it. 

I wondered if she was humoring me, trying to make me feel more comfortable by feigning ignorance of who I am. It's considerate and sweet. I played along with a smirk. "Timothée. "

She giggled, it strangely made me hard. "That's so cute, such a sweet name." 

I smiled and looked at her. "Why are you walking the street so late? It's dangerous. "

She bit her lip like she was caught doing something naughty. "I ran away."

I frowned, she does look young, but I was hoping at least eighteen, but she's wearing so much makeup she could be sixteen under there.

"From home?"

She smiled, "No, my friends."

I nodded, my eyes roamed her form,  I wanted to measure her wide hips with my hands. 

"Are you heading anywhere in particular?" I couldn't stop myself, I wish I would just shut up and act normal, I didn't want to scare away this…fawn.

Looking closer I see an attractive, rhinestone stud in her nostril, I had the urge and necessity to lick it.

I gripped my steering wheel, she noticed the small detail but didn't say anything. She stared at my hands for a long time.

"I just needed to walk…I get overwhelmed sometimes in crowds." She explained as she hugged the lamp post.

I wish it were my body she clung to…great, Tim you've lost it, you're now jealous of a fucking lamp post.

"You did good with them at the Viper Room."

She smiled,it was faraway and dreamy. "I focus on one person, and pretend I'm only singing to one person." She hid her face against the post and giggled.

I was even more enamored with this adorable little creature.

"We could go to Mel's over there, get a milkshake or coffee or fries or a burger, I don't care. I don't want you to freeze out here."

To my fucking luck and surprise, she nodded and timidly walked over to my car. 

I got out of it, she looked up at me a bit wide eyed, noticing our height difference, had to be about five inches,  and she's wearing platform boots. I smirked as I opened my door. The passenger seat was facing the streets, and even though there aren't many drivers out right now. I didn't want to risk her.

She half stepped in and I half helped her up by her waist. Just touching her, smelling her very rosy, sweet smelling shampoo, I knew I had to sit her down before she would feel her effect on me and think I'm some creep.

I buckled her in, and she watched me with a soft smile. I looked up into her dark doe eyes as I latched the seat belt together, it pressed into her stomach.  I smiled a little and she bit those sinful lips and looked away. I eyed one of the holes of the dress that rested on her plump breast and licked my lips before sitting in the driver's seat and starting the car back up.

I drove us across the street to the parking lot of Mel's. There were a good amount of people there for 3am close to 4, but not packed like it was at midnight. I didn't let Madison get out on her own. I got out so fast and opened her door for her,  reached over and unbuckled her seatbelt, before lifting her by her waist and helping her down delicately.  I hadn't  let her go yet, my thumb gently stroking her prettily wide hips. She didn't seem to be upset, she just held onto my shoulders,  she leaned in and looked around , accidentally her cheek brushes against my chest, it was almost like I was holding her.

"Thank you." She said and then before I knew it, she was out of my arms, heading inside, and thanking the security. 

I followed behind her so fast, I was practically on her ass before taking her soft hand and leading her to the booth farthest away from everyone, trying to avoid being noticed.

We were in the corner and immediately a friendly waiter came over asking us what we would like, but saying hi to Madison, tell her it's always nice seeing her. She giggled and asked him how everything was and I was hideously jealous,  she should be looking at me talking to me that way. It was an absolute thing to do but I interrupted.

"Madi, did you want a milkshake?" My voice sounded a little strained, my fingers twitched, they were a stretch away from hers, the nails not too long, and wore black chipped nail polish.

She was delayed in her response, she slowly looked away from the waiter and looked up at me,  her dreamy eyes made my heart stop and speed up at the same time. Her pouty lips parted and then she smiled, it was sweet and genuine, she looked so happy, and I felt ten feet tall because I made her that happy, not the waiter.

"Can I have this one?" She sweetly slid the menu over to me, pointing to what was called the Lana del Rey milkshake, it was an oreo milkshake with chocolate syrup. 

I smiled at her, sweet girl. "You can have anything you want."

She smiled wide before biting her succulent lip.

I ordered her shake and ordered mine, plain chocolate. I also ordered fries.

"You-uh, smell very nice." Wow Timmy, that was lame.

I looked to see if she was smirking unimpressed,  but the angel before me looked elated, her eyes just completely lit up and she was beaming. "Thank you Timothée,  it's basically samples…perfumes are expensive but…I get samples,  I have a friend who works at Sephora um…yeah I forget which, I sprayed a lot of different ones." She giggled, sitting up a little straighter. 

My eyes gently, briefly glanced at her breasts that bounced. I cleared my throat and dragged my gaze to her warm, deep eyes. "Your voice is beautiful, do you sing for a living?"

She was flustered at the compliment, aside she didn't know she was amazing. "I sometimes sing. Like once a month, it's a cover band called Rapture, we always cover Blondie or Anita Lane usually, sometimes others." 

I don't know who Anita Lane is but I'm a little familiar with Blondie, I like what I've heard. Seems like my little fawn is a nostalgic girl, which is very sexy. 

"What do you do when you don't sing like an angel?" Our shakes arrived and I thanked the waiter.

She did too before wrapping those cocksucking lips around the straw, unintentionally so distracting. "My keyboardist, Kyle, he does indie films, they're very artsy, he likes to film me…and he likes me to perform at his art shows too." She ended in a gossamer, shy tone.

I was enthralled, she's an intriguing nymph of a girl, it would make sense someone would capture her beauty and present it as exactly what she is, art.

Time was irrelevant with her, I don't remember her eating my fries but I do remember the moment when my heart decided it was hers.

It was nearly six in the morning when we left the diner. She was rubbing her smokey eyes adorably like a sleepy toddler. I carried her into my car and she tiredly gave me the address to where she lives.

I watched the sun rise on her face until we were at an apartment building in koreatown. I carried her to the fifth floor, she fumbled with her keys and opened the door. With the prettiest sleepy,  doe eyes, gorgeously smudged with makeup, she said goodnight Timmy…I didn't see her for a year.

—---------------------♡♡♡♡♡♡—--------------------

Madison's POV

I called Kyle Kimberley a liar and closed the door in his face when he told me Amazon wanted to pick up his movie. 

We've known each other since special Ed math, at Venice High school. He's the only friend from high school I still had, and I'm very glad. He's always been there for me and has never been toxic.

For as long as I can remember he's had a fascination with film and nostalgia. He likes how they used to do it and looks up to David lynch, Neil Jordan, Joe Schumacher… 

He even uses the same camera as Lost Boys and the company of wolves.

He looks like a mix of 80s Kyle Maclachlan and Cole Sprouse. Everything he wears and owns is from a thrift store and he smells like clove cigarettes and Aramis. 

Sea, Swallow Me, was the film they picked up. It's about a runaway trans teenage girl from Paris, Texas. She named herself Holli Daryl, after Holli Would in Cool world, and Daryl Hannah. The movie starts out at dusk, her parents come home to find the movie Splash playing, a note on pink paper written in violet crayon with Lisa Frank stickers detailing how Holli (her dead name, Connor) made sure their neighbors The Weiss's were watching their Doberman, Billy so he wouldn't witness her becoming a mermaid. They found her drowning herself in the pool, the movie volume on high. They then committed Holli to a mental hospital. After one week at Esperanza Valley Mental Hospital, fifteen year old Holli meets psychologist Dr. Lewis Reed, they have an affair and she loses her virginity to him, he gets her hormones and despite her being too young, he gets his surgeon friend to give her sex reassignment surgery. A year at Esperanza Valley, Dr. Reed's wife, Amanda, shows up, she finds out about her husband's affair. She shoots him in the head and then shoots herself.

Holli is devastated and runs away, Dr. Reed was the only one who protected her from the abuse at the hospital and the main security was always trying to sexually assault her. She hitchhiked, on her way to Los Angeles. In Tucson, at a truck stop at two in the morning, she comes across a handsome, 27 year old drifter named Axel, who's played by my ex boyfriend, Fallon Robbins, and lead singer of our cover band.

They fall in love right away, before having sex, Holli tells Axel that she's trans and he tells her he doesn't care. The movie surrounds their toxic, obsessive love, Holli doesn't shy away from Axel's possessiveness because she's never felt love. 

Kyle paid a lot of money to have the Cocteau twins play music for the soundtrack.

He had one viewing at an AMC in Inglewood, someone saw it and he got a call.

The big Hollywood  premiere is a week after Coachella,  it's incredible. I feel surreal, couldn't believe this was happening to Kyle and that they want interviews with me. Designers have been sending me clothes, I couldn't believe it. Kyle bought a suite at Hotel Marmont like the classics he said. 

The cast and crew of Kyle's film were given tickets to Coachella from Amazon,  like a promotion. 

Coachella never was our thing, we liked mainly music before the 21st century. But it'll be fun, I'm sure of it. There were all expenses paid for staying at the Paloma Resort, which gave me a Palm Springs feel.

Everything has-been so wonderful,  everyone so kind. But when I checked into my room I collapsed onto the bed feeling empty.

A feeling I haven't been able to rid myself of since I met Timothee.

I ended up finding out he's a very famous actor. I don't watch too many new things so I was a little clueless.  But now I know and I have seen some of his projects, I am impressed, I am bewitched and melancholy. 

I miss the man I met once who smelled like weed and laundry detergent, who bought me milkshakes and shared his fries. Anytime I go to Mel's I now sit at that seat.

The morning after I left I lost my phone, I must have left it at the diner in the bathroom. 

I feel so stupid crying right now, on one of the best days of my life.

Kyle knocked on the door. "Madi, get dressed, we're heading over soon."

 Sniffling, I wiped my eyes. "Okay!"

I got up and took off my Edward Scissorhands t-shirt, I stripped out of my split denim shorts and black Vans hi-tops. I reapplied my strawberry and vanilla deodorant. I turned on my Spotify and Love my Way flooded the room. I washed my face with aloe vera cleanser and slapped on a tony moly sheet mask. I washed my vagina always making sure to take extra care, I was careful about what I put in and on my body, so many things could go wrong with my situation. I brushed my teeth and finished prepping, I left my hair in its natural , bleached, ringlets, adding some curl cream and mousse and gel, doing a slight wet look. I recreated Rose McGowans '98 MTV awards dress, chain link, chain mail, dress that left nothing to the imagination. It's Coachella and you gotta dress risqué. 

I'm a little curvy and like any human have a million and one insecurities, but at the same time I have this weird, perverse compulsion to expose my thick thighs, ample backside, and soft stomach. I was proud of my breasts, though, they turned out perfect and they're the only thing on my body that doesn't make me cringe. I zippledup my patent vegan leather, grommet stiletto boots with the Patrick charm, adding some accessories, I decided to wear a lot of eyeliner, black glittery eyes, and deep red lips. I sprayed on Persian rose by Pacifica and grabbed my star-shaped sunglasses and velvet rat-shaped purse.

Kyle and I headed to the festival together, he looked fabulous in silver faux leather overall shorts, and silver docs, black eyeshadow, black eyeliner, lip gloss, and black curtains of hair falling in his face. 

"This entire year has felt like dementia…" he then grinned at me. "But in a good way."

"In the best way, you've worked so hard Kyle, this is all you. I'm so proud of you." I exclaimed.

"Oh please, you gorgeous girl, your looks and uncanny talent of penetrating the audience with your skills got me here, you're like the black Pam Anderson with the talent of Isabella Rosselini!"

"You're dramatic, and Pamela is very skinny remember?"

"You're right her body is nowhere near as great as yours, very Kim Petras."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. Kyle does not allow me to trash myself, I'm very lucky to have him.

"Okay stop talking in celebrity, it's very Gilmore Girls."

It was a little difficult but we found the Empire Polo club  where the festival takes place. Everyone looked amazing like they were going to a rave in a fairy realm, there was a lot of energy. 

"I am counting the moments to where I'll be beautifully Byroned. " Kyle said as he headed to VIP parking.

"So fucked up?" I giggled.

"Mmm" he responded with a secret smile. "Let's go." He grabbed his fanny pack and we both got out of his white Jeep Gladiator.

He held my hand and we walked together,  phones were out and people were calling our names. I kept my head down, it was surreal, it was wild. I was nobody and now I'm the indie, trans actress from an American art film.

I saw no reason to keep being trans a secret, I'm proud of who I am and my journey, I never desired fame. This was all sudden and while I'm used to being on stage and small clubs, crowds like this made my anxiety spike. Kyle rubbed my back to calm me down as he smiled and said hello.

I wanted to say hi and be nice to all these people being so kind and supportive of me, but it's hard to deal with that much attention at once. I need to gather myself. I felt guilty. 

Once in, I took deep breaths relaxing a little. Kyle rubbed my arm. "Babes, you wait right here, I'll be right back, I'm going to get us tacos and cerveza,  okay? You alright now?"

I nodded with a smile. He smiled back and kissed my head before heading to the food trucks.

I didn't want to immediately go to VIP, Kyle and I discussed that we didn't want to be closed off to people. God, it's so weird that we have to think about that. Last year, we were broke with 3 different jobs in our Koreatown apartment, spending too many nights at the Viper Room, the whiskey, the rainbow, Barneys…we were poor skater kids who went to Venice High School. Now look at us.

I drank some water I brought with me, sipping and feeling a lot better and looked around.

"Madison?"

My heart stopped, hearing the voice that has plagued my dreams every night. I turned around to see Timothée. 

Timothée's POV

I couldn't wait for Coachella, I needed a serious distraction. My friends didn't understand how one girl could have such an effect on my everyday life.

But she was always the only thing, she invoked the passion in my acting, the anger of her not returning my texts and calls, the sadness of losing something someone that could have been, the uncontrollable lust to fuck her so hard she can never walk away from me again, and the pure and utter joy I get tickling in my intestines whenever I think of how her eyes lit up when I got her that strawberry milkshake.  When I kissed when I made love on screen, it was her I was touching, it was her tongue I was sucking, it was her body I was slamming against the wall.

Seeing her buxom figure lazily contained in dripping chains, no effort to disguise any bit of delicious, fawn-colored flesh, just a flimsy, French cut black thong, but sizable, round, Hazel colored nipples bounced on display. Her body is soft and lusty, its statuesque and stacked.  Her ass is thick, ample, and bouncy, a quarter would certainly bounce off of it with no trouble. 

I desired nothing more than to have my head crushed by her luscious thighs. I swallowed as my eyes traveled up her comely form to the ideal face, heart shaped with a wide jaw, hugely plump lips painted in an obscene dessert shade of candied-strawberry red, I wanted to eat them on a plate, cover them and sugar and devour them slowly. Her wide, dark eyes were even bigger due to the smoky paint around them. Her white-gold ringlets bounced in perfect layers around her doll-like face, tickling her shoulders.

She's so little, probably around 5'2 without the stiletto boots that made her legs look long.

I nearly fell to my knees like I was in her cult to worship her at her altar.

I wanted to be angry, to demand a fucking explanation for ghosting me. But she looked so damn happy at the sight of me, her eyes lit up again, her honey skin glistening like gold in the California sun, and maybe it made me an idiot but, I slid over to her.

I caressed my hand up her neck, my other gently claimed her soft hip. If this all goes awry, I'll blame the copious amount of weed I smoked and how soft her silky beige skin feels beneath my fingers, how fucking unfairly good she smells- what is that? Roses? One million and one? I was a goner. Stupidly I focused on her pillowy, blood colored mouth as I just rubbed them with mine, I just had to feel them just a feel…not a kiss…but I broke that promise when she sighed so softly and gossamer, pressing her mouth against mine with starvation. 

[fantomcomics]

What’s Out This Week? 5/17

Happy MUTHAS day!

A Spell Of Trouble TP -  Trini Tinture

Popular, rich and great at school, Carrie lives a charmed life - because, unbeknownst to her classmates, she's a witch! Hailing from a long line of witches and warlocks Carrie has never wanted for anything - that is until her bumbling, nonmagical and anti-magic cousin Angela shows up! And worst of all-if Carrie can't turn Angela into a legendary sorceress she'll lose all her powers! Worlds collide and sparks fly as these cousins have to learn to live together - or else! This comedy classic from British"girls" comic Jinty features a brand new cover by the original artist, Trini Tinturé, as well as another tale, the spooky, insect-infested Creepy Crawley, in a volume perfect for Halloween!

Arcade Kings #1 (of 5) -  Dylan Burnett

Joe, a mysterious new face in Infinity City, has suddenly become the hottest new player at the Round House Arcade. Anyone can challenge him, but no one can win.   But Joe's secret past is about to catch up to him when his most formidable challenge yet rolls into town, forcing Joe to combo his powers with a joystick, his fists...and his fighting family legacy!

Blink TP -  Christopher Sebela, Hayden Sherman & Nick Filardi  

Wren Booker was three when she was found alone and covered in blood on the streets of New York. Since that day, she's been haunted by the childhood she can't remember...until decades later when she finds a cryptic website streaming multiple CCT feeds from strange rooms in a ruined building. Something clicks, setting off hidden memories that lead her back to a place she's seen in lifelong nightmares. Hunting for answers, Wren breaks in and finds herself lost in the camera-filled dark mazes of a decayed social experiment known only as BLINK...which she quickly discovers is not abandoned at all. But what should be a foreign nightmare-scape feels all too familiar for Wren as she follows her obsession all the way down, piecing together the story of BLINK-as well as her own ties to it.

Blood, Love, Ghosts & A Deadly Spell #1 -  Damian Connelly

Off of the huge successes of his previous comics, You Promised me Darkness and Follow me Into Darkness, here's a little gem Damian Connelly saved for last... "Blood, Love, Ghosts, and a Deadly Spell" is a dark, atmospheric 64 page volume filled with horrific tales from the inimitable mind of Damian Connelly, author of the best-selling hits "You Promised Me Darkness" and "Follow Me into Darkness". The book contains four never-seen-before self-contained horror short stories and an illustrated poem that will terrify, unsettle, and astonish.

Centralia HC -  Miel Vandepitte

The earth in and around Centralia has warmed so much, it's impossible to stand on without melting. Those who survive long enough will be confronted with carnivorous birds, collapsing buildings, and the trigger-happy Simia Nasalis, armed with bazookas and stilts. Against their better judgement, a group of adventurers set out to discover the treasure of gold hidden away at the heart of the abandoned town.

Chilling Adventures Presents: Jinx, A Cursed Life One-Shot -  Magdalene Visaggio & Craig Cermak

Jinx Holliday is a firecracker and a firestarter. Destruction always follows in her wake. And sometimes weirdos stop her and talk about her "destiny." It's all combined to create quite the aura of mystery around a 14-year-old girl who just wants some pizza rolls, and while her soul might belong to Satan, her heart belongs to the electric guitar. But one day, when Archie and company come looking for her help because Jughead is acting weird, Jinx and her BFF Danni embark on a mission to exorcize Jughead. It's the two BFFs vs. Satan for the good of humanity-or at very least, for Jinx to just be free to be a normal 14-year-old girl who just happens to dabble in necromancy and rock 'n' roll.

Disney Villains: Maleficent #1 -  Soo Lee & Jae Lee

Disney and Dynamite proudly present Maleficent, Queen of the Forbidden Mountain! Her realm is shrouded in darkness, and evil, and full of all things that go bump in the night. Her soul is cold, hardened by a lifetime of small-minded wanderers seeking to steal her powers to satisfy their mortal greed. Her patience wears thin. Her mystical might grows. It is a matter only of time before she descends the mountain and unleashes her horrible magics upon the powerless people below. A stunning vision of villainy from writer and artist Soo Lee!  

Doodles From The Boogie Down TP -  Stephanie Rodriguez

A young Dominican girl navigates middle school and her dream of being an artist in this debut coming-of-age graphic novel inspired by the author's tween years. Eighth grade in New York City means one thing: It's time to start applying to high schools! While her friends are looking at school catalogs and studying for entrance exams, Steph is doodling in her notebook and waiting for art class to begin. When her art teacher tells her about LaGuardia High School of Music & Art and Performing Arts, Steph desperately wants to apply. But she's in the Bronx, and LaGuardia is a public school in Manhattan-which her mom would not approve of. Steph comes up with a plan that includes lying to her mom, friends, and teachers. Keeping secrets isn't easy, and Steph must decide how far she'll go to get what she wants.

Elvira In Monsterland #1 - David Avallone, Kewber Baal & Dave Acosta

What's scarier than Dracula? ALL THE DRACULAS! Vlad the Impaler is back, and he's raiding the Multiverse of Movies to build a monster army and conquer the world. And only one woman can stop him! Vampirella! But she's busy in her own books... so it's up to Elvira, the Mistress of the Dark, and bane of Vlad's existence, to stop his evil plan! It's monster movie madness horror from writer David Avallone (Elvira in Horrorland, Bettie Page: Unbound) and artist Kewber Bal (Vampirella, Red Rising, Red Sonja).

Everything Is Fine GN Vol 1 -  Mike Birchall & J.J. Birch

We need to forget. You know as well as I do. Sam and Maggie are a normal couple, in a normal house, in a normal neighborhood. There is nothing strange about their heads, their neighbors, or their sweet little dog. Everything is fine. This is the story of a couple doing their best to get by in a world where things are absolutely, totally, and unquestionably fine. Collecting episodes 1-16 of the WEBTOON comic.

Flawed TP Vol 1 - Chuck Brown & Prenzy

Gem Ezz is a psychiatrist in the Kafkaesque city of Setham, where corruption and brutality rule the streets. By day, she uses words to solve her patients' problems. By night, she takes a more direct-and sometimes deadly-approach. But when her practice puts her in the sights of an immortal serial killer, Gem finds herself embroiled in a power struggle that threatens everything she's ever known.

Going Remote: A Teacher’s Journey GN -  Adam Bessie & Peter Glanting

With Peter Glanting's powerful illustrations, author Adam Bessie, an English professor and graphic essayist, uses the unique historical moment of the COVID-19 pandemic as a catalyst to explore the existing inequalities and student struggles that plague the public education system. This graphic memoir chronicles the reverberations from the onset of the pandemic in 2020 when students and educators left their physical classrooms for remote learning. As a professor at a community college, Bessie shows how despite these challenges, teachers work tirelessly to create a more equitable educational system by responding to mental health issues and student needs.

Grand Slam Romance GN Vol 1 -  Ollie Hicks & Emma Oosterhous

In this queer graphic novel that's equal parts romance, softball, and magical girl drama, Mickey Monsoon is the hotshot pitcher for the Belle City Broads, and their team is poised to sweep the league this season. But Micky is thrown off their game when Astra Maxima shows up to catch for the Gaiety Gals, the Broads' fiercest rival. Years ago Mickey and Astra were best friends... and maybe more. That was, until Astra unceremoniously dumped Mickey to become a softball wunderkind at a private girl's school in Switzerland. Now, Astra is flirty, arrogant, and reckless on the field-everything the rule-abiding Mickey hates. Astra thinks Mickey's cute and wants to fool around, even despite their rocky history and the trail of jilted softballers that Astra leaves in her wake. Too bad the only thing Mickey wants is vengeance for their broken heart and wounded pride! Full of wet mitts, hard hits, and a bevy of softball-playing babes, Grand Slam Romance: Book 1 is a flawless home run that is sure to knock readers out of the park.

Harley Quinn: Ravenous HC -  Rachael Allen

When Harleen Quinzel wakes up in a hospital bed with no recollection of the past few months, she scrambles to pick up the pieces of her life.  As she starts classes at Gotham University and an internship at Arkham Asylum, Harleen is determined to make her mark, getting paired with the most high-profile female inmate at Arkham-the notorious Talia al Ghul. Talia is brilliant and fascinating, and as they spend more time together, the lines between good and bad begin to blur for Harleen. When she starts to see Talia less as a patient and more as a mentor, all of Harleen's dark and dangerous pieces begin finding their way to the surface again. The only way to stop the terror that haunts the halls of Arkham Asylum may be to let her darkness out.

Harley Quinn: Reckoning SC -  Rachael Allen

Experience the origin story of a Super-Villain in this Harley Quinn backstory that fans have been waiting for! When Harleen Quinzel scores an internship in a psych lab at Gotham University, she's desperate to make a Big Scientific Discovery that will land her a full-ride college scholarship and get her away from her abusive father. But when Harleen witnesses the way women are treated across STEM departments-and experiences harassment herself-she decides that revenge and justice are more important than her own dreams. Harleen finds her place in an intoxicating vigilante girl gang called the Reckoning, which creates chaos to inspire change. And when Harleen falls for another girl in the gang, it finally seems like she's found her true passions. But what starts off as pranks and mischief quickly turns deadly as one of the gang members is found murdered-and a terrifying conspiracy is uncovered, putting the life Harleen has worked so hard for at stake. Will she choose her future-or will she choose revenge?

Hotel Rem HC -  Zack Keller & Gabriele Bagnoli

Rembrandt Somner is the happy-go-lucky new owner of Hotel REM, a place for all the fantastic people and creatures in our dreams to hang out when we wake up. Channeling his endless enthusiasm, Rem attempts to balance his unwieldy coworkers and wild guests in order to run a successful business that makes his parents proud. However, a demanding celebrity guest threatens to be the rude awakening that ruins everything!

Last Game GN Vol 1 -  Shinobu Amano

In elementary school, the rich and spoiled Yanagi Naoto was known for excelling in both studies and sports. But then he suffered the first setback of his life when Kujou Mikoto, a girl from a poor family, transferred to his school and performed better than Naoto at every turn. Reeling from this unforgivable blow to his pride, Naoto decided that he had to make Mikoto lose at something... by making her lose her heart to him, which he could then break! Now that they're both in college, will Naoto finally be able to win Mikoto's affections-or will he lose this final game with her?

Mech Cadets TP Book 1 -  Greg Pak & Takeshi Miyazawa

Every four years, giant sentient robots from outer space come to Earth and bond forever with a brand new crop of Sky Corps Academy cadets. But this time, instead of a cadet, one mech bonds with Stanford Yu, a young kid working with his mom as a janitor at Sky Corps. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for Stanford, but first he'll have to earn the trust of his classmates and survive an uncompromising enemy...the Sharg! Bestselling author Greg Pak (Ronin Island, Planet Hulk) and fan-favorite artist Takeshi Miyazawa (Runaways, Ms. Marvel) bring to life this underdog story as Stanford and the newest team of Cadets and Robos face relentless training, an alien invasion, and the threat of losing themselves and human existence. They'll realize the true sacrifice that comes with duty and service and what makes a hero in this full collection of Mech Cadets perfect as a jumping on point ahead of the animated series on Netflix!

Ms. Truesdale & The Fall Of Hyperborea #1 (of 4) -  Mike Mignola & Jesse Lonergan

One of the last followers of a failing Heliopic Brotherhood of Ra, the unassuming Miss Truesdale, finds herself on the receiving end of Brotherhood leader Tefnut Trionus's final vision. Connecting her life in Victorian London to a young gladiator's in ancient Hyperborea, Truesdale discovers she now has the chance to change the future by altering the bygone past.

Navigator HC -  John Bruno & Jordi Armengol

An alien navigator, captured in battle on Jupiter's fourth moon, Europa, seeks sanctuary. In return, the alien will provide his advanced technology to help defend mankind from the alien force that enslaved him and has come to destroy us. In this backdrop is a story of love and reconciliation between a young Marine officer-placed in command of Earth's forces-his estranged wife, and Amy . . . the daughter he's never met.

Ogi’s Summer Break GN Vol 1 -  Koikawa

On the first day of summer vacation, Haruto Ogi fell in love with legally blind Shinya Tago. All though they connected immediately, Tago was at first utterly unaware that Ogi had fallen for him. For once, Ogi felt comfortable fully being himself; if his crush can't see him, then he's safe from being judged. A sweet love story about overcoming differences and accepting yourself for who you truly are.

Red Room: Crypto Killaz #1 -  Ed Piskor

The media won't leave Brianna Fairfield alone since her father was arrested and identified as the Steel City Cannibal. But what more sinister forces are also following her? Mistress Pentagram and the Red Room Players return in this all-new, four-issue miniseries from Ed Piskor (X-Men: Grand Design)! Splatterpunk never looked so good! As seen on YouTube's Cartoonist Kayfabe!

Self GN -  Christopher Sebela & Cara McGee

Postscript backs up everything about a person into a file ready to be loaded into a printed body that offers one final chance to wrap up loose ends after they've died. Nat Winters has finally achieved something like a perfect life. No more scraping or getting by. She has a home, a husband, and a job turning into a career. When Nat's Postscript gets hacked and her file is torrented, her life gets set on fire by these tweaked copies of her running around the world, chasing down their own versions of her deferred dreams. As more of them begin coming to town, looking for her, Nat will be forced to confront a dozen different sides of herself and try to fix the mess they've made. But as she tries to contain things, Nat finds out there's a contingent of Blanks out there who want to hurt her, even kill her, on the orders of a mysterious enemy who is looking to make this identity theft permanent.

Squire & Knight GN Vol 1 -  Scott Chantler

Squire is brainy, bookish, and terribly under-appreciated by his boss, the brawny, inept knight, Sir Kelton, who somehow always gets all the glory. So, when the two mis-matched heroes find themselves in a cursed village, plagued by a demonic dragon, Kelton rides off to slay it, and Squire stays behind to catch up on some reading. But Squire starts to notice that something isn't quite right about this town... can he uncover its strange secrets? Scott Chantler's prolific pen has inked a fantastic world with a compelling mystery. With characters that are relatable and dynamic, Squire & Knight is an instant classic that will enthrall readers.

Tig & Lily: Tiger Trouble GN Vol 1 - Dan Thompson

Lions, Tigers, and... a house cat?! Oh my! Life at the zoo gets complicated when a tiger finds out she as a new roommate. What makes a tiger, a tiger? Is it the stripes? The roar? This is something that Lily, the tiger at the local zoo, has never had to worry about - until she meets the fiercest animal of them all... her new roommate. Tig might look like a house cat, might sound like a house cat, but Tig knows he is a Tiger. The competition is on as these two cats figure out what it means to be a Tiger... and a friend. A purr-fect graphic chapter book series!

Tsumasaki Ni Kourozu GN - Aki Aoi

One day, Iwai, an ordinary college student, is suddenly offered a part-time job to work as an assistant for the mycologist, Murota, a seemingly moody and unsociable man. Though things start off a bit rocky, Iwai soon finds that he not only enjoys spending time with Murota and learning about a world previously unknown to him, but he also likes taking care of the man when he neglects to take care of himself. However, joy is gradually replaced by unrest, as Iwai becomes increasingly aware that his feeling towards the man may be deeper than he originally thought.

We Can’t Do Just Plain Love GN Vol 1 -  Mafuyu Fukita

She's Got a Fetish, Her Boss Has Low Self-Esteem. Sakura Yuino is beautiful, cool-headed, and good at her job, and when she's transferred to handsome, polite, but shy Itsuki Kiritani's department at her office she's determined to do a good job. Unfortunately for her, Kiritani is so nervous around women he can't help getting "excited" around her. And Yuino finds her personal fetish triggered around her new boss, whose smell is intoxicating to her. After a post-work drunken tryst, they realize that perhaps this arrangement isn't so bad after all... This book contains sexual content and is intended for an audience aged 18 years and up.

Yakuza’s Bias GN Vol 1 -  Teki Yatsuda

A yakuza enforcer becomes the gang world's biggest K-pop stan in this cult comedy manga that went from webcomic to sleeper hit in Japan! Takeru is one of the top lieutenants in the feared yakuza outfit the Oshio-gumi. He lives his life by the code of the Japanese underworld, where nothing is more important than loyalty, and ties between soldiers and their aniki are sacred bonds. Takeru's never had time for hobbies... until the boss's only daughter Megumi drags him to a K-pop concert, and he sees the glittering, charismatic Jun for the first time. Smitten like a new recruit on his first job, Takeru plunges into fandom with the solemnity and passion only a true man who walks the way of the yakuza could muster.

Whatcha scooping up this week, Fantom Fam? 

[richandrich-blog]

ICYMI: The Ultimate Guide to the Blues Festival Experience Introduction to Blues Festival The Blues Festival is an annual celebration of one of America's greatest musical genres. It brings together musicians, fans, and enthusiasts from around the world to enjoy and honor the rich history and soulful sounds of the blues. Whether you're a lifelong fan or new to the blues scene, attending a Blues Festival is an experience like no other.  History and Origins The blues originated in the late 19th century as an Afro-American folk music form. It emerged from the deep South, particularly in the Mississippi Delta region, as a means for musicians to express their struggles, joys, and sorrows. Over the years, it has evolved and incorporated elements from various other music genres, including jazz, gospel, and rock 'n' roll. Today, the blues is recognized as a cornerstone of American music culture.  Lineup and Performances One of the most exciting aspects of a Blues Festival is the lineup of artists and performances. Festival organizers carefully curate a diverse lineup that includes both renowned blues legends and up-and-coming talents. Attendees can expect to witness electrifying live performances that capture the raw emotions and energy of the blues. From soulful guitar solos to powerful vocal ballads, the range of musical talents on display is sure to leave a lasting impression.  Workshops and Educational Sessions Beyond the main stage performances, many Blues Festivals also offer workshops and educational sessions. These sessions provide an opportunity for attendees to deepen their understanding of the blues, learn about its history, and even pick up a musical instrument themselves. From guitar masterclasses to songwriting workshops, these activities allow fans to connect with the music on a deeper level and gain insights from experienced musicians.  Food, Drinks, and Vendors A festival experience is never complete without indulging in delicious food and drinks. Blues Festivals often feature a wide array of food vendors, offering a mix of Southern and international cuisines. Attendees can indulge in mouthwatering barbecues, soul food, and traditional dishes that perfectly complement the blues atmosphere. Additionally, there are usually beverage stands serving up ice-cold beers, signature cocktails, and non-alcoholic options to quench your thirst throughout the day. Community and Camaraderie Another highlight of the Blues Festival experience is the sense of community and camaraderie that permeates the event. It's a gathering of like-minded individuals who share a passion for the blues, creating an atmosphere of togetherness and celebration. From striking up conversations with fellow fans to dancing and jamming along with strangers-turned-friends, the Blues Festival offers a unique opportunity to connect with others who appreciate the power of the blues. In conclusion  Attending a Blues Festival is an immersive journey into the heart and soul of this beloved music genre. From experiencing the performances of legendary artists to discovering emerging talents, the festival offers a diverse range of musical delights. Moreover, the sense of community and the opportunity to learn from workshops further enhance the overall experience. http://dlvr.it/T7vBr4 http://dlvr.it/T7vBrT

[themidnightramblers]

Meet The Midnight Ramblers Band Members (& other important people)

Mal Walker

The Ramblers’ founding member, original leader, and resident genius. Sometimes known to fans and bandmates as “Mad Mal,” he famously named the group by riffing on his favorite Muddy Waters song, “Ramblin’ Kid Blues.” Word on the street is Mal scribbled the lyrics to their first single on the newspaper wrapper for his fish ’n’ chips one lost drunken night in London. This peerless track, “Bought on the Never Never,” cribbed a sly bit of street slang, turning it into a youth anthem and the band’s debut hit. Mal was as renowned for his ability to metabolize a king’s ransom of drugs, as for his savant-like talent for mastering any instrument, from electric guitar and bass to sitar and the many esoteric percussion doo dads gathered during his frequent forays to faraway lands, including Morocco and Brazil. He was also celebrated for his stylish fitted trousers, which left little to the imagination, flared Byron-esque sleeves and dramatic headdresses — sometimes a velvet cap with a jaunty feather, sometimes a literal crown, made of flowers or gold. He will forever be equated with effortless “it boy” cool, as personified by actor Jude Law in his BAFTA-winning performance in the biopic Mad Mal. Devastatingly, Mal drowned in the swimming pool of the band’s Los Angeles rental house in August 1969, the night before the Ramblers’ celebrated free show at the Hollywood Bowl. Although the incident was ruled “death by misadventure” because of the epic mix of drugs in his blood at the time, his loyal fans have always considered it suspicious that he was left out of rehearsal that night. It has long been debated: Was he really alone in the water, and what secrets might be held in the vault by his then-wife, Anke Berben, who was also home? Such rumors were fueled by the torn-from-the-headlines book The Last Days of the Midnight Ramblers, written by the band’s American chauffeur, Syd Nelson, who published his tell-all in 1970, only to overdose on heroin that year. Whatever the truth, although Mal’s flame burned far too briefly, it has never dimmed in our hearts, where his transcendent music will live on forever.

Anke Berben

A beautiful phoenix, arising from the rubble of Europe’s darkest decade, she was born in Germany after World War II. Her father died from injuries incurred at the Battle of Berlin, leaving her mother to raise her, although Anke has long claimed her identity as a self-made lone wolf. Working as a shop girl — surely the coolest, most daring, fashionable young woman then on the street, she was discovered as a model at 16. While filling her portfolio with stunning shots, she became the first woman to pose topless on the cover of an international art magazine, making her the desirable date for artists and rockers alike, including Mal, who swept her up into his glittery entourage when she attended the Ramblers’ 1968 show in Berlin. For the next eight years, Anke would be like a sixth member of the band, feeding its fashion sense, exuding influence during rehearsals, shows, and a million backstage moments. Although Mal was seeing another young woman, who was pregnant at the time of his death, Anke was his wife, and she will always be his widow. But she never slept alone for long in her gilded youth and would soon go on to form a love square within the band. Drawn close by their raw grief over Mal’s passing, she and Dante fell together and had a son, Ody (named for Odin, the God of War). While Anke was candid about her struggles with heroin, she remained a timeless beauty and style setter, and had a five-year relationship with Ramblers frontman Jack Edwards, in the ’70s. Her legend grew when she left the raucousness of rock and ’n’ roll, taking up residence on a sailboat with Ody and her final love, Fritz, picking up inspiration in their many ports of call. Having lived more than her nine lives, as a love child of the world, she gathered her influences and experiences into her jewelry line, sought after for decades by rockers and fashionistas. Known for her effortless elegance, elevated Boho fashion, and dry wit, Anke remains a cultural force in her own right.   

Dante Ashcombe

There are musicians and then there are certifiable guitar gods, one with their instrument with a level of attunement that is almost mystical — think B.B. King and Lucille, Willie Nelson and Trigger, George Harrison and Lucy, and, of course, Dante Ashcombe and his Fender Telecaster, the Duchess. Known for his unique tuning style and his ability to embellish every Ramblers song with the perfect mix of grit and finesse, all he needed was the right alchemic conditions to ignite his genius, which he found when he caught a set by Jack’s first band, the Lads. The two bonded over their passion for American blues and gender-bending fashion, forging a friendship with enough one-upmanship for each to incite the other to write, practice, and perform with greater intention and intensity, pushing their style and sound to the limits of respectability and beyond. Dante’s potential for revealing aspects of this iconic relationship, as well as his previously unrevealed insights into what happened at the band’s rental house the night Mal met his terrible end, have made Dante’s memoir eagerly anticipated. A modern-day Renaissance rocker, he has quite a story to tell. While there is no Dante without Duchess, the instrument is really just one component of his total rock persona. With his effortless pirate-captain style, Cleopatra-esque black eyeliner, and an easy laugh for all he meets, like a schoolboy on holiday, Dante created the mold in which the next four generations of rockers would hope to be forged into a player and performer with an ounce of his verve. Perhaps no moment in his life better exemplifies his bohemian supremacy than the 18 months he and Anke were pop culture’s golden couple, deeply in love and perfectly matched, forming a family and inspiring Dante’s most heartfelt songwriting. How ever much Dante has always loved to perform, and never met a party he wouldn’t crash, in later years, he would go on to keep his home life a priority, becoming known as much for being a family man as a musical mythmaker. 

Jack Edwards

What does it take to front the world’s biggest, boldest rock band for more than five decades, and to keep the songwriting, stage show, and sex appeal as fresh and fraught as on day one? The kind of peacock-feathered charisma and purely radiant star power seen only once or twice each generation. We’re talking about an Oscar Wilde. A Little Richard. A Kurt Cobain. A true original. On top of a totally matchless creativity, add in a keen eye for trend setting fashion and a level head for business, not to mention the skills of a strong leader and an astute diplomat, and the wordsmithing genius of one of the greatest street poets of the rock ’n’ roll era. A hunger for experience has led Jack to form liaisons of the sexual, romantic, and creative stripe with a who’s who of fellow musicians, artists, designers, and more than his fair share of models — adding up to eight children with six different women (and that’s just the official count), plus whispers that he was the lover of several of his generation’s hottest male rock stars. A chameleon, an enigma, he is always perfectly put together and gracious, whether leaving the club at dawn or high tea at noon, and yet, he gives away little of his true thoughts and feelings. Perhaps he chooses to save his deepest musings for his songs, which continue to be as distinctive and potent as anything he wrote when he dropped out of university, taking up with Dante and Mal with little more than a second-hand guitar, a tambourine, and a daring new vision for the blues. While Jack has been wise enough to let his legacy speak for itself, shying away from addressing rumors of friction in his creative partnership with Dante or any other inner workings of the band, he is always eager to discuss his own artistic wellspring—which he notoriously feeds by reading poetry, traveling the world, and indulging in passionate love affairs.

Mal drowned at the Midnight Rambler’s Los Angeles rental house in 1969. He was found to have Quaaludes, alcohol, marijuana, and acid in his system so many have thought he just lived too hard and died too young. But then the band’s chauffeur, Syd, alleged that there may have been foul play. 

[europeas20]

Christmas Getaway in Barcelona: San Jordi Hostels Starting at €157

Discover a new dimension of rock and roll at Rock Palace Hostel in Barcelona. Immerse yourself in the city's vibrant nightlife with our rooftop pool (available from April to September), club-themed common areas, iconic bar, extensive guitar collection, and guest kitchen.

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Choose from a variety of room options at Rock Palace Hostel, including mixed and female rooms of various sizes, some with en-suite facilities for the ultimate convenience. Experience comfort with air conditioning, individual lights, and charging stations at each bed. Forget about carrying a padlock – our rooms feature security lockers to keep your belongings safe while you explore the city hands-free. Enjoy the added perk of free linen, ensuring a hassle-free stay. Experience Barcelona in Style with Sant Jordi Hostel!

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[theotakufiles]

Yonen Buzz Manga

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As Kazuto teams up with other gifted musicians, each possessing their own unique musical talents and captivating personalities, they embark on a quest to form the ultimate rock band. Together they face thrilling challenges like rival bands seeking fame at any cost and uncover dark secrets behind Yonen's origin and purpose.

Throughout this epic journey fueled by raw passion and determination, Yonen Buzz explores themes of friendship, self-discovery, creative expression, and the transformative power of music. From heart-pounding concerts that will make your knees buckle to emotional moments capturing the struggles of pursuing one's dreams against all odds – this series delivers an electrifying experience filled with unforgettable characters, catchy tunes, and breathtaking animation.

Join Kazuto and his bandmates as they navigate through high-stakes battles on stage while discovering their true potential as musicians. Will they conquer adversity together or crumble under pressure? Tune in to Yonen Buzz to witness a symphony of teenage rebellion, soulful melodies cutting through barriers, and the unbreakable bonds forged by a shared love for rock 'n' roll."

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[tartlette1968]

The History of Music, from the Very Beginning to Now. The 11th of February, 2014, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre.

Floating in space, hurtling around an insignificant ball of gas we call a star, a tiny little planet spins soundlessly in the vacuum of space. Third one out, with a little satellite of it's own, the blue green planet tracks through space, circling the star again and again. Life started on this planet millions of years ago, and the creatures and plants hum through the business of living and dying, over and over again.

There emerged, on this planet, a species of ape that, after millions of years of changing, growing, and moving grew a brain. From this brain there came communication, really good communication, the transfer of ideas. Maybe then came the recognition of patterns--patterns of time, as season followed season, as day followed night followed day followed night, patterns of light, of colour, and patterns of sound. Then the ape became something called human.

And this human had hands, and fingers, and it made patterns, patterns of colour, patterns of light, and this ape had ears, and it could hear patterns of sound, and with it's hands, one day, it discovered it could make patterns of sound as well. Humans could sing, and the singing was good. Humans could clap, and bang and stomp, and that was good, and when some sang, and others clapped, some danced, and that was good. With their hands humans could make marks, and shapes, and put sound and language into sight, into pictures and symbols. Humans found they could make these patterns of sound into sight, into patterns of marks, and then there was music--and the music was good. Music travelled, and music changed and music grew, and everywhere the human went, music followed, and that was magic.

Humans built, and the humans made objects, and some of those objects made music, and one day a human made an object that made music, and that object was called the guitar, and the guitar was good. Years past and the human was clever, and a human learnt to capture sound, and recording was born, and recording was wonderful, and the record was born, and the record was amazing. Humans were really clever, and humans captured movement, and they put captured movement with captured sound, and that was good. Humans made radio, and humans made television, and that was mostly good. The humans made electricity, and humans learnt how to make sound with electricity, and then the electric guitar was born, and it was very good.

On Thursday, the 9th of May, in 1974, a human who bore the name of John Landau, went to a rock show where a very particular human was singing, and performing with an electric guitar. Very soon after, that human brain, full of promise, and all the full weight of the legacy of the human past, put symbols together--all that history of scratching, and all those discoveries stretched across the centuries, and all those nights and days of the making of sounds, of the moulding and shaping of hand, and eye, and ear, and brain met and melted and burst, and Landau declared:

"Last Thursday , at the Harvard Square theatre, I saw my rock 'n' roll past flash before my eyes. And I saw something else: I saw rock and roll future and its name is Bruce Springsteen. And on a night when I needed to feel young, he made me feel like I was hearing music for the very first time."

The time passed, the years turned, and music came and went, and people danced, and people sang, and people bought records. People watched television, and people watched music, and people watched music on television. People listened to music.

In 1984 on an ordinary day, an ordinary human walked into an ordinary store selling very ordinary take-away food. In that ordinary store, up on a shelf sat an ordinary single speaker radio, and at that very moment, that radio played a very particular recorded song, it was called "Dancing in the Dark" and that moment was very good.

In 1985 that human got his hands on an album, and that album was called "Born in the U.S.A." and that moment was good.

And the years went by, and the human bought many albums, and they were all good.

On the 11th of February, 2014--just last night, that human went to a concert to see Bruce Springsteen, and that was amazingly awesomely unbelievable.

The day saw the temperature rise above 40°C for the twelfth time that summer, an all time record. The air was still hot, and, sitting on the scooter, I lifted my visor at every red light to get a little relief from the stifling heat inside the helmet. I made my way to Port Road, excitement racing through me. For some reason, the only song I could think of, while I was riding along the road, was Dire Straits' "Telegraph Road." In my head I saw the yellow concert ticket peeking out the top of my wallet that sat in the top box, behind me. I throttled the scooter around the corner, looking for a place to park, trying to avoid the steep parking fees they charged at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre. I was thankful for my motorbike license, as I saw a row of cars, angle parked. Next to the first car was a white triangular space, out of bounds for a car, but perfect for parking the scooter. With the bike parked, my jacket packed with my helmet, I made my way down the street, towards the Centre. People in small groups hummed and buzzed along, no doubt we all shared a common destination. I glimpsed people in Springsteen T-shirts, and there was no doubt about where they were going.

The mouth of the Entertainment Centre opened wide to swallow the steady stream of people presenting tickets. A bright LED hoarding above the long line of glass doors flashed upcoming shows. Once inside I made my way to the merchandise counter, and bought a shirt and the USB wristband that, in a few days I would be able to fill up with a complete recording of tonight's performance.

People moved about, but, while it was busy, the crowd was easy to move through, and I made my way to the entry gate, and then up to my seat.

Slowly, achingly slowly, the seats filled up. Tonight was a sell-out, a full house. Months ago, we waited in front of the computer as sections were released, slowly, waiting until this seat came up for purchase. People filed in, and soon there were people all around me. The sea of red empty seats became a multicoloured quilt of faces. Down on the stage the road crew moved around, checking microphones, thrashing every now and then on a guitar, or crashing and thumping on the drumkit. Behind the stage, over the railing, a sign appeared that paid tribute to Clarence "The Big Man" Clemmons, and Danny "The Phantom" Federici, the two members of The E Street Band that were no longer with us.

We had been asked, ages before, to make up signs requesting our favourite song. I couldn't make up a sign, I couldn't pick just one favourite, though I suppose "Play All Of Them, Bruce" might have sufficed. When you're a fan of Springsteen, any time you hear a song of his, anywhere, it just reaches you.

The lights went down, and the crowd went wild, and then we heard the man himself, "Why is it so fucking hot here?"

There he was, on stage, guitar in his hands. He once said the first time he looked in the mirror and liked what he saw was when he was holding a guitar. Next to him, off to his left, stood "Miami" Steve Van Zandt, dressed for all the world like it was a mild spring day, jacket, scarf around his neck, and a bandana covering his head. A little further left was Gary W. Tallent, with his bass. To Bruce's right stood Nils Lofgren, and Tom Morello. Behind him was "The Professor" Roy Bittan behind a white grand piano; and in the centre of the stage, immovable, solid and thumping sat Max Weinberg, beating and artfully striking his modest drumkit. I took in all of this in a split second, and I didn't have to explain a thing to the people around me, they all knew what I knew, and there we were.

This was it, I felt goose bumps run down my body, because this was the first ever true rock concert I had ever been to. A few years ago I had the amazing experience at the Clipsal 500 RocKwiz concert, where I saw "Born to Run" performed live, for the first time in my life, and that was amazing--but tonight, this was the real thing, the more real thing, the complete immersion and embrace of what music is, what rock and roll is.

I can't give you the sound, I can't give you the amazing breath taking moment in "Tenth Avenue Freeze-out" when pictures of the late great Big Man himself were flashed onto the screens, or the roar of respectful approval that greeted Jake Clemmons every time he took on the task of recreating his uncle's great work on the saxophone. There was the moment when "Born to Run" surged out into the cavern of the Centre, and we sent it back to him, from the opening chords to the final "whoah oh whoah".

There was a rule, once, that at a concert, all the light had to be thrown onto the stage. There was a rule, once, that the artist was the act… the performers and the audience were divided, cleft in two. There was an order, the tight demarcation betwixt us and them. Fences were put up, walls stood strong and oppressive and the crowd was kept out there. With the spotlights in their faces, the artists could only see black. But that is not this night. There is no wall, as Bruce and Steve and Tom walked down the runway, as Bruce crowd surfed back to the stage, and we were one, we were all, we were undeniably a part of the show. We needed nothing more than a nominal nod of the head from Steve to rise up off our butts, and dance, and sing, and live… all of us bright, all of us alive. People held up their signs, asking that Bruce and the band take a little step this way in their song catalogue, or that way. This was immersion, this was interaction. There was no set list, at a moment's notice, the band would launch into a song, any song they wanted, any song we wanted.

After two and half hours or so, they wound down, but winding down for the E Street Band means jumping on the gas, song after song being jammed together without a stop, and we were standing, we had been standing, and we weren't about to sit down.

Last century, Tom Morello and the band, Rage Against the Machine completely deconstructed "The Ghost of Tom Joad," and reassembled it as a spitting, growling indictment of big economics. They put fire and anger behind Bruce's lyrics. Here, tonight, we felt the licking fire, as Bruce and Tom took us to another place, where we can rail and rant against the greed and deliberate myopia of a bitterly hard world run into the ground by big business, where we will see the character from "The Grapes of Wrath" keeping true to his promise. And the song never lived like it does tonight.

Then the lights came up, the band took a bow, Jake Clemmons getting every drop of respect and understanding and love he deserved, and they sauntered off… for a moment. And now we knew we had to pay… if we wanted them back we had to EARN IT, so we yelled, we clapped, we howled, we made noise, we stomped, and then, in the darkness, the man returned with a question:

"Adelaide! Have you had enough?"

And as one voice we replied, "No!!"

"Have you had enough?"

"No!!"

Satisfied we had earned it, the man gave a nod and the band returned. And they rocked all over again.

"Steve!! I see a request… I see a request!!!" Bruce yelled, while the band played, and all it took was a point at a sign, a nod of the head and the band launched into "Ramrod" without missing a beat.

Then the band bid us all a goodnight, but Bruce stayed, with his guitar, and his harmonica, and he said goodnight in the best way he could.

"Adelaide," he said quietly, "The E Street Band loves you."

The very last song fluttered and breezed around the auditorium, fully lit, to absolute crystal sharp silence--an acoustic "Thunder Road".

All through the concert, hanging behind the stage from the seats behind the stage, hung a simple, hand painted sign in blue letters on white, and it simply said "Thanks Bruce". No one could put it better.

And then the Entertainment Centre, having well and truly lived up to its name, emptied, with a buzz, and with thousands of smiling, beaming people.

As the planet turned and hurtled through space, the only planet in the Universe to have seen a Springsteen show, we headed out into the heat, because, although the day had gone, the heat had not.

Adelaide woke up the next morning, still hot, and readying itself for concert number two, but that is someone else's story.