#without a doubt my favourite rendition of this song

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Clearly I am holiday obsessed rn 🎄 What do you think the Stranger Things characters favorite holiday songs are?🤔

oooooo fun question!!!

Steve’s is, without a doubt, Last Christmas by Wham! The second I saw this ask it immediately came to mind for him. Nancy angst? Cheesily singing it to Billy despite the fact they’ve been happily together for three years? Take your pick. Either way he belts it out any time it comes on and Dustin HATES IT

Heather and Carol put on an absolute Performance together any time All I Want For Christmas by Mariah Carey comes on. They are personally behind it being blasted nonstop in stores in the run up. Workers hate them, they are having the time of their lives.

Jonathan’s is Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee, partially because it is also Joyce’s favourite. There’s a lot of pressure on both their shoulders looking out for each other and Will, but every year they end up pausing their decorating for the holidays to dance to that together cause they both love it and some of that stress falls away. Sometimes Will even joins in and its just the three of them taking turns to twirl each other in their living room. A Byers Christmas isn’t complete without it.

Chrissy likes Baby It’s Cold Outside. She finds it fun and charming. Eddie diligently sings the other half of her duet whenever it comes on to save Chrissy’s lungs (platonically or romantically idc)

Eddie’s is Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow! I cannot articulate why aside from the content has similar vibes to Baby It’s Cold Outside and I think it’d be cute for them to kinda match. They matched each other’s freak, they matched each other’s Christmas energy. All is as it should be.

Jason says that his is something suitably christian like Mary’s Boy Child by Boney M., but it’s actually something poppy like Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande. He will be teased by his friends when he finally admits it, but it would suspiciously start being played more for him either way.

Argyle’s is Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Darlene Love because it’s pretty and chill and vibey and I say so lmao. Idk, I just think he’d like it.

Tommy’s is Santa Baby, but he’s the straight guy who bends the lyrics to be Santa Buddy when he sings it. Depending on how drunk Carol gets, there’s a good chance she’ll yell at him to ‘suck it up and fuck Santa already’

Robin likes Fairytale of New York and makes Steve badly sing it with her. She sings Shane MacGowen’s part and Steve does Kirsty MacColl’s. The drunker they are the more they laugh at getting to insult one another throughout their rendition.

I’m not so sure about Nancy (she’s not exactly my fave so I don’t have a clear idea about anything to do with her 😅). Maybe Happy Xmas (War Is Over)? That just feels like something that would get played in the Wheeler house.

[rosslync]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔 / / ross & troye

WHO: Ross & Troye ( @troyesvn )

WHEN: June 25th, 2024

WHERE: London, UK

PLOT: Ross joins Troye on stage.

TW: nothing.......... hehe jk its us! smut! <3

"Everybody wants you, baby, you should insure that waist, with the highest policy you can get. Bet nobody wants you bad as I do, baby let me plead my case."

Ross: Being reunited was maybe one of the best feelings Ross had felt in a long while. Truthfully, all his memories with Troye were slowly becoming his favourite ones, things he’d usually regard as the best things not even being comparable; not when he had him there. Their time back together had mostly been spent the better way they knew how; newly formed marks against both their skin being the evidence of that, and the taste of Troye seemed to linger against his tongue for longer than it used to, not that he would ever complain for that. Now; their performance day had arrived. There was something so special for Ross in being able to share the stage with his boyfriend, especially during a Pride event; being able to be there with Troye, the very person that encouraged him to feel prideful meant so much. Ross had never doubted his feelings, or his pride for a second; from the second he realised his feelings for Troye to now. There had never been any doubt in his security in it. He made sure to make that abundantly clear during his time on stage - a relatively heartfelt, yet flustered speech to the crowds of thousands who would stand there and listen. All about how in love he was, how happy he was to have their love; and how he could never be ashamed of it, all his feelings laid bare for those that would listen; as well as the rendition of something he had written for Troye in their time apart. He was smitten, that much was clear, and no matter how many times he watched Troye perform; he’d never get bored of it. But here he’d found himself, waiting at the side of stage knowing his boyfriend was about to bring him out; somewhat a homage to their first meeting, only this time they could fully enjoy it; no anxieties or overthinking.

Troye: Ross’s performance brought a lot of emotion — the surprise of his song, one he had yet to share with the world, performed freely in front of the crowd with Troye as the muse had him near tears, and then, of course, there were the songs that followed… the songs that made him want to intertwine himself in Ross, to feel his body all over his own. When it came to his own setlist, he was looking forward to what he’d make his closing song just for tonight. He couldn’t imagine carrying on a performance once it wrapped, knowing he would struggle to keep his focus on anything but Ross. He knew it the moment he turned, seeing Ross on the side of the stage, motioning for him to come out and take a seat on the empty chair behind him. Troye started the song as he made himself comfortable, slowly approaching him, standing in front of his boyfriend before he placed his foot on his leg and pulled him in to his body. He performed One of Your Girls as he normally did on tour, Ross taking the spot of his dancer, except for now, it felt all the more intimate. He tangled his fingers into blonde locks and tugged, well aware of just what reaction it would pull from his lover. The lyrics passed his lips without missing a beat, guiding Ross’s head closer to his crotch than he may have if it were anyone else in his shoes. He smirked, one only Ross could see as he turned from the crowd. He wasn't even on him yet, and he could feel a heat in his cheeks, letting it pass as he tightened his grip on the microphone and lowered his hips.

Ross: He had watched this dance a thousand times over, not just from his time joining Troye on tour; but from his time scrolling aimlessly online, fixating on every movement the dancer portrayed against his boyfriend. This felt far more right to him, he knew it was simply a special thing for Pride - but he was so glad to have the opportunity to do it, he felt as though he could become quite comfortable in the seat for the rest of the shows, if he could. Ross had thought the thoughts running through his mind a million times - how good Troye was at what he did; how even here, with him, he played the role so well. Not that it required much acting, in this instance. For a moment, he thought about how much he could get away with here; what exactly he could do to Troye to work him up, throw him off… But he wasn’t that mean. Besides, he was enjoying playing his own role now too - his hands moving to slide up against his boyfriend’s thigh; all the way to his ass - a hard slap being pressed against it. A movement he had seen the dancer do before, and despite not knowing any of the choreography; he’d pick up the initiation from his boyfriend - only hoping it felt better coming from him. His hand slipped away once he felt Troye lower his body, not feeling much a need to hold back his emotions anymore; the grin on his face so wide as he kept his eyes on his boyfriend lowering down towards him. His hand moved to slide up against the corset Troye wore, resting his palm against the side of his waistline as he looked up at him with the widest of eyes; almost daring him for his next step.

Troye: This time was definitely contrasting from the way the music video shoot played out, how Troye asked for every bit of his approval, worrying that he took it a step too far. This time, it was worry free as he pressed his body up against Ross’s own, and there was something about being watched by the crowd as he touched him that sent a familiar shiver down his spine, amplified by a thousand as he rested on his lap. By now in the choreography he’d be on the ground, overpowered by his dancer, but here he took the lead, as if he was playing off the memory of how they first became familiar with one another. He held the microphone to his side as he brought his lips to Ross’s ear, his free hand traveling up his chest as he spoke only for him to hear. “Bet you’d like to fuck me right now,” he whispered, pulling away to capture the look in his eyes, pulling the strap of his corset over his shoulder with a bat of his eyelashes and a sway of his hips. His words taken in by no one other than Ross until he continued to sing, breaking his spoken desires as he ran through the second verse.

Ross: He was sure everyone in the audience must have been able to see the way Ross enamoured Troye. His eyes practically saucers as he looked into the others blue ones, his chest freezing his breaths momentarily as he felt his boyfriend speak against his ear. He was so in love, partly for this reason - the way they matched each others energies, seeing who could take the other further or who could surprise the other the most. Ross’s fingertips trailed up Troye’s arm, intwining with the strap of the corset as he played with it delicately; a certain look in his eye to convey a very clear message for what Troye could expect once they got off that stage. Letting go, he leant back into the chair, but only to slide his shirt off his chest – figuring if he were making a special appearance on stage, it’s what he should do. Besides, he knew Troye would like it, and he couldn’t take anything too far; not wanting to throw him off his singing. But still, his hand slid up the bodice of the corset, up his chest and sliding to the nape of his neck - pulling him closer, slowly, so not to throw him off. His smirk evident, and his thumb stroking against his boyfriend’s skin.

Troye: Troye watched Ross as he leaned back, lifting his shirt over his head, bringing an immediate smirk to Troye’s lips as he let his eyes roam over his body, this time obvious, not trying to hide his lingering gaze as he sang. Before, even when the cameras weren’t rolling, Troye would stare, quick to turn away if Ross even did as much as glance back in the vicinity of his direction. He felt free now, able to let his hand run over his boyfriend’s chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his palm without fear he was pushing his limits. There were none, other than the fact they were on stage, and Troye had to keep that thought in mind as he moved his hips against him, grinding down on his lap before he lifted himself off of him, leaving him with nothing as he finished off the song with the closing choreography, performing the routine in front of Ross’s widened eyes.

Ross: Ross shifted in the seat a little, having to remind himself of where they were - think of pure thoughts to not leave himself in an embarrassing predicament. He felt relatively proud of both of them, for being able to keep things calm, professional; leaving some things up to the fans imagination. But still, the lights from the stage were so hot, and so was he, Ross had to allow a moment to collect himself; still, his eyes never leaving Troye’s. He wished he could do it every night, almost, for a second wondering if this could just become his life now - follow Troye around and be his personal chair every evening. The song ended all too soon, and Ross, somewhat entranced, had to remind himself to stand up and move. He gazed the stage to find his boyfriend, walking over to him and placing his hands on his hips - thumb toying with the material of the corset; as he listened to the crowd cheering just in front of them. Inching his lips forward, he grinned as he spoke into Troye’s ear, the grip on his hips tightening. “Thought you were into kissing boys on stage?”

Troye: Troye wondered for a moment that when he turned around, if Ross would still be sitting there watching his next move, off to the side of the stage, or elsewhere. He felt his hands on his hips before he could register much else, the roar of the crowd muffled in comparison to the thoughts running in his mind, the desires, how much he wanted him as his grip grew firmer and it was his turn to whisper in his ear. Instead of returning his words by speaking, he turned his head slightly to capture his lips, kissing him, taking it upon himself to push it a notch higher than his usual. His lips lingered from his mouth, across his jawline and down his neck, his fingertips stroking down the bare skin of his back before he suddenly pulled away. He looked at him, his eyes showing more to be desired before turning his back to him, making that his exit as he strutted off the stage and left Ross to follow.

Ross: It would be impossible to remove the smile from Ross’s face, footsteps trailing in Troye’s direction almost immediately - the sound of the crowd was muffled now, irrelevant, as he fought against the the urges that plagued his mind. He could taste Troye on his tongue - he could feel the way his eyes told him everything; having watched every movement for every second of their performance together. After following him backstage, he chased after him a little - hands on his boyfriend’s hips as they strolled towards the green room. “You,” he begun, momentarily removing his hand to open the door in front of them. Pushing Troye inside, and almost immediately closing it behind him, he used the grip he had against his hips to pin him against the door, the smirk on his face evident. “Are so,” He continued, fiddling with the button on Troye’s trousers - finally sliding them down his thighs. “Fucking,” And now it was his boxers turn, Ross’s fist moving to slide up his boyfriend’s thigh, kneeling onto the ground in front of him; completely at his mercy - he didn’t have to finish the sentence. Instead he just chuckled, his tongue pressing against his boyfriend’s cock - an act he had become much more confident in performing recently.

Troye: Troye’s smirk was plastered on his face, permanent as he felt Ross’s hands back on his hips, meeting up with him with a clear motive. He listened as he spoke, slowly, accentuating his words with every movement as he pushed him into the room and against the door, the same smirk mirrored on Ross’s face. He hardly had time to say anything before Ross was on his knees, pulling his clothing down his legs. He parted his lips to speak, but could only whimper as Ross’s tongue came in contact with his already hardened cock. He brushed his fingers through blonde hair, pushing it away from framing his face as he looked down at him. He wondered if he’d ever get used to the sight, of Ross settled between his legs… of Ross hovering over him, or of Ross laying beneath him. It all still felt like a dream, whichever way he had him, one he never wanted to wake up from as he tilted his head back against the door, a soft laugh escaping him at the realization of just how far they made it from the stage. “So, what?” Troye finally urged, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

Ross: Ross was thankful his shirt was long forgotten on stage, his body feeling hotter as his hand slid to wrap his fist around Troye’s length - spitting a slick of his saliva down onto it. He whined as he felt the fist run through his locks, a feeling he had only felt moments prior; but this time in a position he was much happier to be in with it. Ross looked up at him, the corset still against his frame - the shoulder strap slightly hanging off, but everything else set so perfectly against him: Troye truly was the perfect human being to him, Ross felt so enamoured by him. Eyes locked against his smirk as he wrapped his mouth around Troye’s length - his mouth working up and down his length in an attempt to pleasure him. He wouldn’t move his eyesight, not even when he would push himself further - taking Troye in further, letting him hit the back of his throat in a way he had only recently been able to get used to. Slowly, he pulled away, whining as he widened his eyes, pressing kisses against Troye’s shaft in place of his tongue. “Mmh..” He pondered, his fingertips sliding down to palm against his balls, blinking up a few times at his boyfriend, “So… Everything.” He spoke, spare hand sliding up the corset that rested against Troye’s stomach - palm over the breast cup. “Everything.”

Troye: Troye couldn’t bother lifting a finger, he always wanted to be touching him, in one way or another — from his hands tangled up in his hair, to the softest brush of skin against his arm, and every in between. It was no surprise they found themselves here, with the backstage area still busy with crew and performers alike, and the thought of having his cock down Ross’s throat as people walked the opposite side of the closed door had him pushing his hips forward, deeper. He watched him, met his gaze, and allowed his own to travel towards Ross’s hand, how he wrapped it around him, his mouth working everything in reach. “God, fuck, you’re getting so good at that,” he sighed, his own fingertips loosening the grip on his hair to travel down his jawline. The noises from Ross’s lips made his cock twitch, knowing he was the only one who could pull them out of him, a soft whine of his own echoing once Ross’s lips were no longer all over him. His heart pounded beneath his clothed chest, the material of the corset blocking Ross’s hand from fully enveloping him once more. He liked the sound of everything, given that was exactly what Ross was to him. He brought his hand over Ross’s, smiling as he lifted it to intertwine their fingers together. “I love you,” Troye said, soft, maybe a bit too soft for the moment they found themselves in… but it wouldn’t stop him from feeling it as he gave his hand a small tug to get him back on his feet.

Ross: The praise immediately went to Ross’s own cock, feeling the material of his jeans suddenly grow tighter as he kept his eyes on his boyfriend. There was something about it being him, and being his that made all of this so much better for Ross - knowing that after the crowd had seen that performance; some of them would be imagining the two of them in this scenario. He knew it would be a success, but the other thing he knew was how much it would turn him on; despite everything the two of them had done together, knowing every inch of Troye’s body and how to work it - something about the two of them in that scenario did something to him. Maybe it was the recollection of everything that had started their journey, or maybe it was the way he could feel Troye’s heat over him as his hips swayed down - regardless, there was a reason Ross couldn’t wait until they had got back. Needing him now, urgently, as if it were the last thing he’d do. “I love you,” he repeated, taking Troye’s initiative to stand back up - ignoring the tent that had grown in his pants to cup his boyfriends jaw, a small whine leaving his lips as he kissed him. “Wanna make you feel so good…” He mumbled against his lips, his breath a little shaky, “Do whatever you want me to. Anything.”

Troye: Troye still felt that same flutter in his stomach each time Ross declared it. This time was no different as he repeated his words, bringing his lips to his own as he murmured his desires against them. He could have stayed here for hours, if time allowed it, having Ross keep his word and send him deep into a state of oblivion. He let go of his hand to wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, deepening the kiss, his tongue rolling over Ross’s in an effort to taste both him and himself. “Anything?” He asked once he pulled away, his breathing heavier, “Fuck me right here.” Troye’s words were soft, his eyes blinking up at Ross in a manner far too innocent as he batted his lashes. He pressed closer to him, so his cock was flush against his thigh, a hushed whimper at the sudden friction, “You already see what you do to me, everyone did… now let them hear it.”

Ross: Ross took the initiative, spinning Troye around to face the door - pinning his almost bare body to it. “You are such a slut.” He spoke, bringing his lips to his boyfriends neck - just as he had done on stage, only this time he’d give himself the permission to lightly suck on the area, surely enough to leave a mark. He was almost taken back to the moments following their filming together; where he has snuck off to the toilets to jack off because his cock was beyond a state he could just ignore, so mesmerised by Troye and everything about him. “Gonna make you cum, and then when we get back to the hotel room tonight - i’ll make you cum again. He mumbled against the skin on his neck finally getting back down onto his knees; a place he couldn’t find himself to complain about going to often. “Make you wanna bring me out for your next show, too. Show you how I’ll make it worth it…” He hummed, raising his hand to slap a firm spank against his boyfriends ass - smirking up at Troye as he trailed his hand up to rest against the waist of the corset.

Troye: Troye placed his hands on the door, smirking again as he was turned from Ross, “For you,” he clarified, humming in satisfaction as he felt his boyfriend’s lips against his neck, sucking a mark sure to be seen the next show if he weren’t planning to cover it. Now, he had nothing to hide — completely lacking shame; instead wanting to display it fully. To have him like this was beautiful in comparison to the last time he’d performed the song with him, a sexual tension between them neither of them acted upon. He listened to his promises and pressed his lips together, keeping himself from interrupting. “You wanna come out again-“ he started to speak, his words cut off by the moan that was torn from his throat as Ross’s palm met his ass. He arched his back almost instantaneously, pushing closer as if silently begging for more as Ross’s hand traveled to his hips. “Show me now,” Troye asked, still facing away from him as he rested his cheek against the door, knowing the position he found himself in only made the chance of someone hearing him all the more greater.

Ross: He was sure he would go to the ends of the earth for him, do anything he’d ask - hence how he had found himself on his knees, ready to make him feel the best he possibly could. Slowly, he inched himself forward, his hand finding Troye’s wrist to direct his hand to his hair - finding himself craving the touch. It was something Ross would remember from the performance, something Troye would do to him knowing the way it would turn him on; make him always want more. “Stay,” he spoke demandingly, knowing his boyfriend would follow his orders, and not wanting to waste time find comfort on their green room sofa. He made his way to their suitcase, bringing out the lube they had packed together earlier: thinking of the silent giggles that had escaped them as they did, realising they wouldn’t be able to hold themselves back after being on stage together. Ross hurried back, the bottle in his hand as he finally pulled his own trousers down, his boxers following with them. “I want everyone to hear.” He spoke, in reference to Troye’s position at the door, his lips finding their way to his neck again. “Want everyone to know, just like after the Met.” He mumbled against his skin, pumping some of the liquid against his fingers - finally running them over his hole.

Troye: Troye allowed Ross to move him by his wrist, position his hand in his hair just as he wanted it, earning a tug from Troye as he fought the urge to push his head forward. Once Ross told him to stay, he didn’t move a muscle, the hand previously entangled in Ross’s hair rested aimlessly at his side as the other held the doorknob, as if it were an effort of stopping anyone from entering. He could hear distant conversations beyond the door, muffled laughter of those walking by, and he knew there was no way he could keep himself quiet enough to not be caught. As Ross came back to him, ridding the rest of his clothing, Troye once again parted his lips to speak but any effort to think a coherent thought was lost on him with Ross’s mouth back against his neck as he teased his hole with his fingers, coating him without penetrating. Even so, it was enough to have Troye gasp at the feeling, craving his touch so badly he was convinced anything would get him off tonight. “We’re gonna get kicked out,” Troye said in a giggle, but backed up against Ross’s hand as he spoke, showing no desire to stop. “But I know you’re hard, felt it, bet you were before I even got on your lap…”

Ross: Ross listened to Troye’s words, smiling silently to himself, knowing the risk of them being kicked out was of no concern to Troye. Definitely not. Not from the same boy who had taken his entire length in his mouth inside an elevator with no warning, or sucked on his thumb in the Met Gala bathrooms, before they had even slept together. He knew Troye. He knew how far he could take this. So, with that knowledge, he pressed a small amount of pressure against his fingers; not quite allowing himself to enter him yet, wanting to head the prettiest whines that would escape him. Kissing further up his neck, his lips landed to his ears - his fingers starting to move in small circles against the rim, his body pressed firmly against his boyfriends back; his spare hand moved to rehook the strap on Troye’s corset back over his shoulder. “You just have to look at me and I’ll get hard.” He mumbled, the hand that had rested on the strap trailing up to this throat - delicately wrapping around it. “But you know what you’re doing, every single time, you like working me up.”

Troye: Ross positioned Troye so he could hardly budge, locked between the door and his boyfriend’s body — not like he could complain. Especially not when all he could do was whine, knowing Ross knew well enough the circling of his fingers would drive him crazy, wanting more. His brain felt a little fuzzy already, still on the high of bringing Ross out on stage, but he couldn’t be bothered by what they might be missing after his set when Ross had him like this. His lips curved into a smile as Ross’s hand eventually found its way to his throat, wrapping around it, his fingers against where his lips once were. “Please,” Troye began to beg, the empty feeling proving to be too much as he tried to buck back down into Ross’s hand but was pressed too close to him for it to be effective, other than showing just how desperate he was. “And you like working me up, too,” Troye bit back, “So, we’re even. Now you can just fuck me.”

Ross: “Shh…” He hummed, his fingertips that surrounded Troye’s throat tightening a little, an action he knew wouldn’t be any assistance in making Troye be quiet. Especially because at the same time, he’d finally allow his fingers to enter him. It wasn’t as though Troye was unprepared, having had seen each other for the first time in weeks only making their desires stronger; Ross wasn’t as afraid of hurting him as he had been the nights prior. So, he’d use two fingers, lightly rocking them in and out - the angle in which they were stood helping him to find the spot he knew would drive Troye crazy. He knew his body now, inside and out - and knew everything he had to do to make him feel his best. “You were thinking about this on stage, weren’t you?” Ross questioned, his lips moving to his boyfriend’s shoulder to lightly kiss his skin; tongue pressed flat against it. “Thought about how I’d take you to this room, leave no time before fucking you.”

Troye: The pressure around his throat had him distracted for a moment before he was met with his fingers, leaving Troye moaning out despite the efforts to keep him quiet. It was only the first stroke of his fingers and he was whimpering, tilting his head back as Ross gave him just what he needed. His words went to his cock, now fully hard, causing it to twitch just before Troye brought his hand down between himself and the door and gave it a squeeze. “Fuck, yes,” Troye admitted, the mixture of his lips against his shoulder, his fingers inside of him, and a hand around his neck making Troye’s breathing heavier. He bit down on his lower lip as hard as he could as Ross’s digits worked inside of him, attentive to what made Troye’s eyes roll back. “You… fuck, shouldn’t… not there,” Troye knew he wouldn’t be able to stay silent, not with Ross knowing what may as well melted Troye in his hands. “Ross,” he moaned his name, as if it were a warning that he wouldn’t be able to hold anything back if he kept focus there.

Ross: Hearing his words, Ross tightened the grip against his throat - holding him in place by his neck. He made no effort to stop his movements, “I shouldn’t? Tell me you want me to stop, then.” He spoke, firmly, knowing that it’s the last thing his boyfriend would want to do– his fingers curving up to brush against the spot he knew would give the answer he was hoping to hear. Hearing Troye in this state was always so satisfying for him, he was sure there was nothing better than hearing him whine - so desperate for everyone touch that Ross could offer him. It was why he would always prioritise him, always prioritise making him feel good; because hearing it always set a physical reaction for him. He felt himself harden from the sounds, pressing a little closer to his boyfriend to rest his length against his skin - not changing the angle his fingers would hit him.

Troye: Troye couldn’t tell him to stop, and Ross knew that — instead, he moaned, taking his fingers inside of him with his noises only growing louder as they curved up in motion. He took it all in as Ross opened him up, pressing his own length against him, leaving Troye craving every inch. “Please, need you,” Troye encouraged, resting one hand against the door as he brought up the other to hold onto Ross’s arm, holding his grip against him in place. He allowed his touch to linger back over his own body, the material of the corset beneath his fingers. “Do you want it off?” He asked, his voice a little soft as he tried to speak through his breathing, tried to distract himself from the feeling that radiated through his body, warmth rushing his veins as Ross showed no desire to stop.

Ross: Ross stood there for a moment, stroking his fingers against the skin on Troye’s neck - his other hand pulling away, leaving Troye empty for a moment - the hand that was just against his neck now on his hip. He leant over, picking up the bottle of lube he had carelessly discarded, a sharp breath inhaling through him as he felt the cool liquid coat his cock – the first time he had touched it that evening. “No,” he answered, stroking his hand up and down his length to coat the lube over it. “Keep it on, please?” he spoke with a small groan, the grip against his hip tightening as he aligned himself with his boyfriend - not quite pressing in yet. “You’re so perfect, so beautiful.”

Troye: The loss of Ross’s fingers made Troye whine, but it was worth it in the anticipation of what was to come, the sound of Ross’s cock slick with lube music to his ears as he stood patiently before him. He smiled as Ross answered him, the plead in his voice making Troye’s face soften as he straightened the fabric out on his body, dropping his hands to spread his cheeks apart to help guide his boyfriend. “Mmm,” he practically purred as he felt the head of Ross’s cock against him, “You can’t even see my face, babe,” Troye teased, bending forward to show off the detailing of the corset from behind. “You don’t have to be soft with me right now, Ross.”

Ross: Ross followed every one of Troye’s movements - from the way his hands moved to the bottom of the corset, to the way they moved to spread himself open. It only made him realise more just how much he meant his words; of course not only being associated to his lust, but still, his behaviour in scenarios like this contributed to his statement. “Don’t need to,” he responded, his grip against his hip hard enough to bruise - as he finally pressed forward, a short gasp leaving him as he felt the warmth that surrounded him from Troye. After a short pause, an attempt to collect his own breath - he’d start to thrust his hips, holding Troye up to the best of his ability. “You - mmh -“ he begun, his voice low as he attempted to keep it in for the sake of the people outside, “Always feel so good, take me so well.”

Troye: Troye couldn’t focus on much other than the grip Ross had on him as he pushed himself forward. He exhaled as he took him in, Ross not waiting much longer to move his hips, causing Troye little time to adjust, his moans already spilling from his throat. He knew they could have easily made it over to the couch, but from the way Ross held onto his hips, Troye knew he didn’t want him budging as he settled his hands on the door. “Fuck, give it to me,” Troye begged, the outside noises overtaken by Ross breathing in his ear, the sound of his skin against his own. It was clear how much the prospect of getting heard began to have an effect on Troye, backing up on his cock before Ross could even sink every inch in him. "Harder."

Ross: Ross would obey anything that Troye wanted - one of his hands trailing back up the corset, before resting against his throat; just as it had before. He figured this was what Troye wanted; and so he let himself become looser - allowing his own breaths and moans to become louder, audible for anyone walking outside. “So fucking greedy,” he commented, tightening his grip around Troye’s neck as he begun to rock his hips rougher, harder. The door lightly tapped from the way Ross’s movements would move Troye against it, his fingers digging in slightly to where he had left his marks against his lovers neck; feeling as though he’d like the sensation of the pain from it. He wouldn’t last long, not with Troye speaking to him the way he was, especially not in that corset; one he surely, surely wanted to ruin by the end of the night.

Troye: Ross’s noises always turned Troye on, and as he slowly seemed to care less and less about the passerbys, Troye felt even more in bliss. “Yes, yes,” was all he could call out, stifled as Ross wrapped his hand back around his throat. Troye tried to meet his thrusts, arching his back before leaning forward against the door, every movement of Ross’s hips causing Troye to moan louder, the attention brought to them as Troye gripped the doorknob causing it to rattle. The harder he went, the rougher he was on his body, and Troye wanted no mercy as he tilted his head back, his eyes rolling with the motion. He couldn’t have cared about getting kicked out now, not when he felt like this. Ross was right — he was greedy, and completely shameless about it as he moaned his name, leaving no secret as to who was behind the door. “You feel so good, always, I…” the words came out a little strained, but he managed, “everyone should know how good you fuck me.”

Ross: It was warm in the room, Ross already felt hot from being on stage; or at least he’d pretend that was the reason he’d take his shirt off on regular occasions. He felt Troye’s head fall back, only exposing more of his neck for his hands to wrap around - his grip tightening enough to make it so Troye would be unable to speak. As much as he enjoyed hearing the things he’d want to say, hearing him strain was almost better; his pants leaving his lips louder than they had previously, and his hips moving even quicker. The door wouldn’t just rattle now, it was lightly banging; there was no doubt the people outside wouldn’t know what was happening in there; if anyone was even there now. Ross couldn’t focus on any outside sounds, being so focussed on the sound of Troye’s gasps through his tightened neck, and the sounds of his cock slick from the movement. “Everyone should know how good you are to fuck.” He hummed, through escaped breaths. “But only mine to fuck, always.”

Troye: Troye’s body was pressed flush against Ross, his back against his chest as he held his head back, encouraging his boyfriend to do as he pleased. He couldn’t string words together with the tightened grip, but could still cry out, his noises broken but certainly not mute as Ross quickened his pace, knowingly aiming his thrusts to hit Troye’s prostate. In a moment like this, he was thankful Ross was stronger than he was, managing to hold him up more than his own body would allow as he balanced himself against the door but felt his legs growing weaker. With Ross’s lips so close to his ear, he heard every pant as they grew heavier, a smile — even with Ross’s hand around his throat — spreading across his face as he echoed his words with Troye being his.

Ross: His hair slick against his forehead, the hand that rested against his hip inched around - wrapping his fingers around Troye’s length. He stroked upwards, skin touching the material of the corset with every flick of his wrist, the idea of messying it after everything that had happened on stage pure motivation to him. His teeth grazed lightly against his earlobe, hand sliding from Troye’s throat to rest in his hair, tugging his head back to stay backwards against his chest. Despite the enjoyment of the position they were in, Ross still wanted to see his face as he cums; forever being one of his favourite sights.

Troye: Troye knew once Ross’s hand was wrapped around him, he wouldn’t last much longer, and nothing but the sound of his moans could warn him. He couldn’t find any words to speak, his eyes rolling back as Ross pulled his hair and had every say in the direction he wanted him. Through half-lidded eyes, he turned his head to get a better look at him, mouth agape with no words spilling from his lips. Anyone in the surrounding area was bound to hear the moan that left him as he came, and he was too far gone to realize just how loud he may have become — and, perhaps more importantly, too far gone to care. His legs felt like they were going to give out beneath him as he released over Ross’s fist, his breathing erratic as his orgasm hit him full force.

Ross: Whenever he witnessed Troye cum, his eyes would be locked on him until the second it was over; the sight captivating him every single time. He loved feeling Troye spill over his fist, loved watching the ways his lips would part and his eyes would roll back - he loved him, so much. Once he was sure Troye was finished, he moved is hands to Troye’s hips; making no effort to clean his hand in the process. He had become so used to finishing inside of him, wanting too - Troye always knew the ways to make him feel euphoric as he came, but now, he’d try not to think of it; a fantasy in his mind he wished to play with instead. After pulling out, he turned Troye around, manhandling him slightly but still keeping him pressed up against the door. “Want you to help me,” he hummed, taking Troye’s wrist and placing his hand over his cock — letting out a breath of relief at the feeling of Troye’s hands pressed against his length. “You know where I want to finish,” he spoke, stepping forward a little, pressing his lips to his boyfriends, finally.

Troye: Troye always felt like his orgasms were all the more powerful with Ross, guiding him through it, an attempt to catch his breath as he steadied himself on his feet. He whimpered as Ross left him, as he always did at the loss of feeling full, not yet fully in the moment as Ross took the lead to turn him around, his back now against the door. He blinked at him a few times, a fluttering of his lashes as Ross asked for his assistance, wrapping his smaller hand around his cock and pumping. He caught his moans with a kiss, his hand working quicker as it deepened. “Do I?” Troye questioned with a smirk against his lips, hoping he had the right idea from the way Ross’s eyes had roamed his corset top, how he asked him to keep it on as he had his way with him. He pulled away from the kiss to look at him, one hand on him as his other lifted the strap that had slipped from his shoulder, hoping he alluded to the right idea.

Ross: His eyes locked onto Troye’s own, his mouth slightly agape as his whines left them. Troye was hot all the time to him, no matter what he was doing, what he was wearing; or what he wasn’t wearing… But there was something special about the corset, something special about any expression of femininity; like Ross could get the best of both from him. His hand trailed from Troye’s hip, grazing over to the front of the corset, tracing lines over some small marks of Troyes own cum from his own orgasm; Ross’s hand still sticky with the rest of the residue. “Fuck, yes,” he confirmed, thumb stroking over the material as his eyes darted to watch the way his boyfriend’s hand looked wrapped around his length. “Such a good boy, the best girl, whatever…” He hummed, inhaling a sharp breath, hips buckling into his fist “Everything I’ll ever need.”

Troye: Troye knew he had the right idea as soon as Ross’s hand grazed over the fabric, stroking over where Troye had spilled onto himself, and he couldn’t help but smile as he spoke his way through it. He moved closer to him, as close as he could get to place his lips to his ear, whispering — perhaps the quietest he had been this whole time. “Let go for me, then,” he said in his hushed tone, his thumb swiping over the head of his cock as he tightened his grip, mimicking how he would with his muscles if he were still inside him, all in time with Ross bucking his hips. “Please, baby? If I’ve been a good boy..”

Ross: It was a welcomed difference to how they had been prior - Ross wouldn’t notice the sounds coming from outside the door anymore, focus entirely on Troye and his soft tone of voice. It sent chills over his body, suddenly feeling vulnerable, like literal putty in his boyfriend’s hands as he spoke to him. It would never have taken much, short whines leaving him as he felt the bottom of his abdomen become warm, his whines turning into moans as he finally came - watching the contrast of the whiteness of his seed against the black of the corset fabric. Ross tilted his face, catching Troye’s lips in a kiss; smiling softly against them as he moved his hands to wrap around his shoulders gently. “I love you,” he hummed against his lips, pulling away ever so slightly; “but I have no idea how we leave this room. I think we live here now.”

Troye: Troye's full attention was on Ross through his orgasm, stroking him through it, never once lessening the pace or loosening the grip of his hand until he was sure he had came down. As he caught his breath, his lips were on Troye’s, and Troye couldn’t help but smile back at just how soft Ross was after the whole ordeal, this time his hands at his shoulders rather than around his neck. “I love you,” he answered back, before Ross could say anything else, but his next comment had Troye giggling as he looked down at his top. “I mean, with a change of clothes, for starters…” Troye pondered as he swiped some of the cum off with his fingers, toying with the idea of bringing it up to his lips to taste his boyfriend on his tongue. He ran his free hand through Ross’s hair, trying to make it look more tame as he brought the digits of his other hand to his mouth.

Ross: Watching the way Troye placed his fingers in his mouth was almost enough to drive his blood south again - watching the way his tongue lapsed over his digits; the soft feeling of his hands in his hair. A little unable to resist himself, Ross leant forward, pressing a few more kisses against his boyfriend’s lips; smiling as he hummed against them. “I packed stuff,” he mumbled, his hand trailing down from Troye’s shoulder, resting at his ass as he offered it a small squeeze. “I thought…” He begun, moving his lips to Troye’s neck, kissing over a mark he left the night prior; his tongue rested flat against the reddish flesh. “We could enjoy the rest of the festival…” His thumb stroked over where he had just squeezed, as he pulled away, tilting his head to the side. “Close your eyes, once you’ve put this on?” Ross finished, a playful smirk on his gaze as he looked his boyfriend up and down - stepping away and throwing him a shirt, notably, one that belonged to Ross. But no trousers, yet.

Troye: Once Troye was satisfied with licking his fingers clean, his lips were back on Ross’s, like they couldn’t bother to be the slightest bit apart. Troye hummed in response, biting at the inside of his cheek as Ross rested his hands on his ass. As if he had to worry about making any noise now. He tilted his head on instinct, exposing his neck to Ross’s waiting mouth, a soft sound escaping past his lips as he watched his body language as he pulled away. His eyes followed his smirk, and how he looked him up and down. Catching his shirt in his hands, he set it down momentarily to slide the corset off his slim figure — with ease now, given how many costume changes he had grown accustomed to, so it wasn’t long until he lifted his arms and slipped Ross’s clothing over his body to take place. He looked at him once more, trying to study what was on his mind, a smile on his face as he laughed whilst closing his eyes. “Are you going to surprise me with some pants?” Troye asked, wondering what in the world would come next.

Ross: Ross watched as Troye slowly peeled the fabric from his body, showing himself bare for the first time that evening. The sight burned into Ross’s memory, surely something he’d return to think of throughout the rest of the evening. He always adored how his shirts enveloped Troye, oversized and unmistakably borrowed, a message to tell people that Troye had a boyfriend; it made him feel smug, as though he could brag to everyone who would pass Troye. Humming softly, Ross turned to rummage through the suitcase, clearly seeking something specific. When he finally found what he was looking for, he pulled it out with a wide grin, chuckling as he approached Troye again. “Not pants, yet,” he teased, eyes locked onto the large material that draped over his boyfriend’s frame - licking his mouth with his tongue slightly. “I meant it earlier, when I said I wanted to make you cum when we get back tonight too.” He begun, pressing a gentle kiss to Troye’s cheek - humming a little. “So… I thought I’d bring something. To make it easier when we’re back.” He spoke quietly, not wanting anyone to hear - his head tilted to the side. “You trust me? Close your eyes. Turn around.” He knew the answer, and that Troye would do anything he’d ask - regardless.

Troye: Troye’s arms settled by his sides as soon as he pulled the shirt over his head, immediately feeling cozier with the fabric that smelled like Ross settled over his skin. He took a liking to borrowing Ross’s clothing, so having a shirt of his rather than his own was really just a welcomed surprise. He could hear Ross looking for something else as he kept his eyes closed, a soft smile rested on his lips. Once he heard his laugh come closer to him, he raised his eyebrows in anticipation, his smile fading into a smirk when he came up and kissed his cheek, as if solidifying his promise for what was to come later. “I trust you, and my eyes have been closed,” Troye noted as he turned, a small giggle of his own as he faced the opposite direction.

Ross: It was hard for Ross to not lather Troye in kisses - kiss every inch of his skin, tell him to keep his eyes closed as he’d douse him in them. Especially as he looked at his smile, or the way he could still be so expressive with his eyes shut; he was so deeply in love. A smile on his own face that Troye couldn’t see, Ross immediately dropped down to his knees, lifting up his shirt that rested over Troye’s frame to position himself underneath it. He moved one hand up, gripping onto Troye’s asscheek, moving his face ever so slightly closer to kiss the other one delicately. “You know how much I love you?” He questioned, in such a loving way it was almost unbelievable where he sat - using his hand to slightly spread Troye open. “I love you, so much.” He hummed, running his thumb over his hole - pressing another kiss to his cheek. Hesitantly, he moved back a little - picking the lube off of the floor to pump it over the object that laid in his hand - sure that Troye would be able to hear. “You wanna go watch the other performers?” He asked, wondering if Troye would engage with the conversation at all.

Troye: Troye could feel Ross approach him, closer, but still had no idea as to just what he was closing his eyes for. He stayed still as Ross lifted up his shirt — or, Ross’s shirt, — his hands back over him. For a brief moment, he wondered if tonight’s promise would happen now, especially when he felt his thumb over his sensitive hole, earning a gasp from Troye as Ross’s lips settled against his other cheek. His words mixed with his delicate touch had Troye nearly melting for him, a satisfied smile on his lips, pushing his ass out as soon as he heard the pop of the lid. He, himself, was quiet up until then, and he almost felt like laughing at Ross trying to keep up casual conversation as he was so close to the most intimate parts of him. “I love you, more,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he answered, following up with a nod. “Mmm…” was all he managed to utter after that, leaving Ross to take it however he pleased.

Ross: Delicately, Ross slid his hand up under the shirt, to rest against the side of Troye’s waist. He enjoyed getting Troye like this: to a place where he would find himself unable to respond fully, working him up just enough to make him try to form sentences. He loved the way Troye loved this, and he loved the way Troye would adapt to anything he’d ask; letting Ross touch him in any way he pleased. As much as Ross prioritised his boyfriend’s pleasure; maybe the reasoning behind it was from enjoying how much he loved to see Troye feel pleasure too. “That a yes? You wanna go back out after this?” He teased, his hand sliding back to his boyfriend’s cheek - squeezing hard whilst he’d pull it to the side - spreading him open. “Say it.” With that, he’d finally pump the cool liquid over Troye’s hole, using his thumb to massage it in lightly - it not being his intent to turn him on again, as much as he could feel his own blood pool south momentarily.

Troye: It was difficult to form any thought with Ross behind him, squeezing, spreading him apart. Troye felt like he could only hum in response, but eventually tried to speak, a small “yes” leaving his lips as it was echoed by a soft whimper at the feeling of Ross’s thumb against him. “Ross,” he warned, his name somehow the easiest to utter, spilling passed his parted lips. “We can go back, come on,” Troye fought to reply, above all else, looking to make Ross proud as he did just as he was told. He knew if they were to go back out there, something about him would look different — whether it was how flushed his face still was, or how marked up his neck had became since the door fell shut behind them. “You wanna show me off?”

Ross: Ross honestly wouldn’t have complained about not going back out there, forgetting all the promises he had made to friends to catch their sets; his entire focus on Troye. He contemplated it for a while, keeping the dressing room hostage and causing an array of issues for the organisers - maybe if he weren’t so nice it would have been something he’d seriously consider. The temptation of Troye all too much, something very difficult to resist. “I think we already showed each other off.” He hummed, finally, bringing the plug up - trailing it in circles over Troye’s hole. “But I always wanna show you off,” He continued, his voice a little hoarse; entire focus laid on the toy as he waited for noises of approval from his boyfriend. “The prettiest person in the world.”

Troye: Troye smirked to himself at Ross’s comment, a blush reaching his cheeks just as the pink tint to his skin began to fade with time. When he felt the toy against his hole, he sighed, now knowing what Ross had planned. He thought about being among the crowd, Ross’s arms around him with everyone unbeknownst to what was underneath his clothes, keeping the sensation of being full. “Please,” Troye begged for it, for Ross to stop the circling and give him just what he needed. He knew they wouldn’t make it the whole festival, even if they made their best attempt, their focus too wrapped up in each other to give it their full attention. “Keep me open so I’m yours to fuck.”

Ross: Ross ran his spare hand up any inch of skin it would reach - from Troye’s thighs to his ass, circling round to his hip and along his waistline. Every inch. He was sure he couldn’t get enough of it, seemingly finding it hard to go even more than a few minutes in Troye’s presence without having a hand on him. He wanted to be touching him all the time; not even just sexually. “You’re already mine to fuck.” Ross hummed, lightly applying pressure against the toy - watching the base of it slowly become surrounded by Troye. “Only mine to fuck.” He hummed, before pulling it out a little; only to push it back in again. This time, he’d allow it fully in - somewhat of him envious of the object, as he found himself fighting against the growing urge to take him then and there, again.

Troye: Troye melted into Ross’s touch. He always did, Ross having a way with his hands, hands that knew a way around Troye’s body — keeping him satisfied, keeping him safe. He whimpered as he felt Ross push the toy in, then out, then back in again and finally allowing it to settle fully inside of him. It was incomparable to Ross’s length, but something that would keep him full, a constant reminder with every movement of how rough Ross had already fucked him and what he still had in store. “All yours,” Troye echoed, reaching behind himself to spread his cheeks apart, giving Ross a full view of how well he could take it. “Still look pretty?” He asked, extending his hand out only to slap it back against his skin in a spank, turning around with a innocent grin painted on his face.

Ross: There on his knees, in front of his boyfriend - watching as Troye presented himself to him; he was sure there was no place better for him. Eyes not knowing if they should be locked on the way his hole had taken the toy so sweetly, or the way his face searched for approval. His question was answered in the way he heard the slap, a small whine leaving him as he stood back up - fingertips cupping the bottom of Troye’s chin. “The prettiest.” Ross confirmed, before once again pressing his lips to the others. Even if he knew he shouldn’t be kissing him, knowing that instead he should be focussed on getting them both dressed and ready to get into the crowd; he also figured one taste wouldn’t hurt. “Can’t wait for when we get home, have you ride my tongue, then my cock…” Maybe one tease also wouldn’t hurt, a smirk lathered against his lips that were rested against Troye’s own.

Troye: Troye smiled against his lips at the confirmation, pulling him in close, as if they were apart for ages, truth being they hadn’t taken their hands off of one another. He wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling strands of blonde hair back between his fingers as he spoke. He pulled away just to catch his breath, forehead pressed against Ross’s own as he thought out his fantasy. “Fuck, yes,” Troye said, in a way that showed no ounce of him would be left in disappointment if they were to part ways from the festival now. He moved to press his lips to his ear, as if they were back in a crowd of people, his words soft, “We won’t make it out of this room if you keep talking like that.”

Ross: Ross’s hands glided gently along Troye’s waistline, his fingertips pressing softly against the soft fabric of the oversized shirt. A quiet hum escaped his lips as he felt the breath against his ears, accompanied by a grin that seemed permanently etched onto his face. He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning Troye’s features; his eyes dark as he looked at him with such love. “I promised so many people I’d watch their set…” he groaned, his voice carrying the weight of reluctance as he pouted momentarily - until the sight of Troye brought his smile back instantly. “We should stay for just a little while, but I wanna go back to the hotel… soon,” he said, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Moving towards the suitcase, he rummaged through it until he found the trousers he had packed for Troye to wear after his performance - aware he’d want a change; with a quick toss, he threw them in Troye’s direction. “I packed us both hoodies, too. So we can lay low at the back, if you like?”

Troye: Troye hummed happily as Ross’s hand was pressed against him, watching as his lips curved into a smile. He nodded in agreement, eyes following Ross’s movement, his arms extended for whatever he would pass his way. As he caught the article of clothing, he slipped them on over his legs, allowing the shirt to flow over the waistband of the bottoms. He felt cozy, knowing the hoodie Ross had suggested and having him near would only escalate the feeling. “That sounds good, you won’t miss it, but we’ll still have an easy exit,” Troye said with a laugh, running a hand through his hair to try to smooth it out before gesturing towards his boyfriend. “And what about you?” He asked, fully aware he was still naked, standing in front of the open suitcase. “Do you believe in clothes or is this how you’re going to lay low in the back?”

Ross: Ross watched Troye dress, somehow forever captivated with every movement he made. There was something relatively exciting about it, seeing Troye dressed in oversized clothing, Ross’s own clothing - knowing what lay waiting for him underneath. He giggled at Troye’s words; clearly not caring about the fact he was still undressed - if there was something the blonde knew he could be confident about, it was his body, all the more in front of his boyfriend. “Thought this was only for your eyes?” He spoke with a grin, walking across the room to pick up his discarded jeans - not bothering to put his boxers back on as he pulled the denim over his legs. Soon after, he picked up his own hoodie, slinging it over his shoulder, and walking back over to his boyfriend. “You look cute. Nobody on the floor will be able to tell how hard I just fucked you.” He grinned, a chuckle leaving him as he’d peck his lips - as if he hadn’t just said something so graphic. “The people right outside however…”

Troye: Troye wasn’t complaining, given the fact that his gaze still travelled over Ross’s body, taking in the sight before it was covered. His eyes trailed down his chest, to his abs, down beyond his waistline, only snapping out of his stare when he spoke. “Very funny,” Troye replied, a roll of the eyes that had been focused entirely on him. He smiled at Ross’s compliment turned obscene comment, a giggle of his own echoing Ross’s as he reached for the doorknob, watching as he pulled his jeans on, leaving his boxers behind. He fell silent for a moment, knowing it would be a feat to pry his eyes away. “You don’t think anyone else could tell?” He raised his other hand, his fingertips grazing over the marks on his neck. “You sure about that?”

Ross: Ross reached over for the hand Troye had used to graze the skin of his neck, a wide smile spreading across his face as he intertwined their fingers, gently pulling Troye’s away from the marks. “I said just fucked you,” he chuckled, raising an eyebrow. He inched his spare hand toward the doorknob, placing it over Troye’s to twist it open. Hearing the door creak, Ross leaned closer, whispering into Troye’s ear, “I think our performance on stage made it very clear that we fuck. Regularly. A lot.” His voice was a soft murmur, trying to not allow the people behind the door to hear; as if they wouldn’t already know. Giving a soft kiss to his temple, and with a final glance around their dressing room, Ross reluctantly tugged Troye’s arm, finally letting them leave to finish the night.

[visceraah]

The sound of music

(aka i’m so sorry for naming it after a musical it has nothing to do with dkjsdjksdjk names are hard)

My gift for @anianthe for @sanderssidesgiftxchange

Rating- Teen cause i’m incapable of not writing wayyy more swears then are necessary-

WC- 2947

Ship- Just Virgil interacting w the other sides,, feel free to interpret romantically if you want!

Warnings- not really any! Remus shows up briefly so.. beware of that. and ig Virgil is also kinda mean bUT he does it affectionately.

AO3

-

“We’re having a movie night!”

Virgil blinked. Took off his his headphones which, unfortunately, hadn’t been playing anything- he wore them out of habit, sometimes- meaning he heard everything his stupid best friend just said.

“No, we aren’t.”

Roman flopped down on his bed without waiting for any indication it was okay, something Virgil was all too used to. “We are now.”

Virgil sighed heavily and pushed Roman with his foot, trying to roll him off the bed. He didn’t budge. “And if I don’t want to?”

“Pleaseeee?” Roman employed the puppy dog eyes and Virgil knew already this was a losing battle. Ugh.

“I get to pick the movie.”

Roman perked up immediately, coming to sit next to him. “Yes! Okay! Just- Disney?”

Virgil rolled his eyes, wondering if Roman was capable of consuming content made by anyone else. He was beginning to doubt it. “Nightmare Before Christmas, then.”

“Predictable.” Roman murmured smugly, and he elbowed him.

“You want this movie night or not?”

“Okay, okay! I yield!” Roman cried, clutching his ribs. Virgil was pretty sure he was more upset at the prospect of a cancelled movie night then the ‘pain’ he was overplaying right now.

“Okay.” Virgil agreed, smugly, and set the movie on.

He’d seen it a million times already, which for most people would only make it boring by now- but Virgil found comfort in familiar things. Plus, that animation! He could happily watch it a million more times- and, honestly, probably would.

That meant he had it memorised, though, and soon enough he was singing along to the introduction under his breath. He listened along contently, until an unfamiliar third voice joined the chorus, and he startled, looking to the side. “Roman?”

Roman stared back, raising an eyebrow at him. “... Hi.”

“Were you singing along?”

Romans eyes flicked between Virgil and the screen, where the movie was still playing, in confusion. “Yes, Dr Gloom? Look, I know what a downer you love to be, but these pipes can’t stay closed all the time! They need exercise- and, the world deserves- neigh, needs to hear them!”

Virgil huffed at the dramatics, although it was fond. “I never said it was a problem, Sir Sing-a-lot, I’m just surprised.”

“One, that’s not an insult and I’m absolutely using that,” Roman retorted, “And two… It’s Disney! One of their best! Do you really expect me to not know the words?”

Virgil snorted, but he had to admit, he couldn’t disagree with that. “Whatever, nerd.”

Roman gasped, somehow seeming more upset than when Virgil had elbowed him. Of course that’d be what got to him. “I am not! I’m a prince- a very princely prince! Not-”

“Whatever you say, prince of the nerds.” Virgil hummed out, smirking to himself. Maybe Roman bursting in out of nowhere wasn’t so bad… This time. He still hated surprises and would not be convinced to do this again. He said that every time

-

Being Romans best friend, unfortunately, had its side effects. One was unplanned, unannounced Disney marathons he had no choice but to roll with. Another was actually listening to his musicals so often he learned to like them, too.

For all he said about Hamilton being overrated (and Romans reaction was priceless every time), he had to admit it was good. A little fast for him to keep with, but he rarely sang along to his songs anyway, preferring to hum quietly unless he was really in the mood.

He liked keeping his music to himself, too- he didn’t want to annoy anyone, so he always wore headphones- but sometimes he just wanted to drown the world out, and they went to full volume. Worked a treat to drown everyone out, but plenty audible to everyone else in the room. Sometimes, though, they’d just have to live with it.

Today was one of those days, where Virgil didn’t want to speak to anybody and had the volume to show it. He was playing one of Princeys musicals, too, humming along to ‘my shot’ no matter how different it was to his normal taste. He nodded in acknowledgement as he passed Logan on his beeline for the fridge, planning on grabbing the easiest and least healthy snack possible.

Retreating with his bag of marshmallows in hand- he was pretty sure they weren’t meant to be in the fridge, but they were imaginary, so maybe nothing needed to go in the fridge. Holy shit.

He pulled the headphones back, opening his mouth to ask Logan's opinion, when he heard a sound that made him freeze in his tracks.

Logan was rapping along to himself. And well. Jesus, how had he forgotten about that? He stared, still in disbelief, and Logan awkwardly trailed off when he noticed his gaze. “Ah, you could hear me.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to ask… Doesn’t matter. Holy shit, Lo, you’re amazing.”

Logan flushed slightly, looking down at the table. “I simply have an appreciation of the genre, and Hamilton has some particular, uhm- how would you say? ‘Bangers’.”

Virgil laughed, slipping into the seat opposite him and taking the headphones off completely. “Dude, I’ve spent enough time with Roman to know having an ‘appreciation’ doesn’t mean you can pull something off.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly fighting back a smile. “I am not sure he’d appreciate you saying that.”

“Eh, I’ve said it to his face before- and will again.” Virgil dismissed, feeling his lips turn up as well. “Why don’t you do it more?”

Logan shrugged, adjusting his glasses awkwardly. “It is hardly a logical skill for me to have, so it simply… Hasn’t come up.”

“Ro doesn’t need an excuse for songs to ‘come up’ before he starts singing them.” Virgil pointed out, and Logan chuffed.

“No, he certainly doesn’t. But we are different people.”

Virgil laughed, nodding. “You could say that again.”

“Oh. Alright, we are differen-”

“It’s an expression, dude. Come on.” Virgil interrupted, sounding nothing but fond as Logan widened his eyes in realisation.

“A highly illogical one, but alright. I can add it to my flashcards to avoid further confusion.” He decided, pulling out his deck there and then to add to. He paused when he heard the crackling of a plastic bag pulled open, looking up as Virgil helped himself to a marshmallow. “Please do not tell me you intend on consuming that entire bag.”

“Maybe.” Virgil held it out, grinning now. “Want one?”

“A key ingredient is gelatin, created by boiling down a pig or cows bones, skin, ligaments or tendons.” Logan deadpanned, and Virgil almost threw the whole bag away in disgust before he remembered,

“But they’re imaginary!”

Logan titled his head. “I suppose so.”

“Actually, I was thinking…” Virgil began, curious about how the fridge actually worked. Soon enough Logan was in a full-fledged rant about mindscape food, and half of it went over his head, but he didn’t mind listening. It was interesting, after all.

-

Whatever concerns Virgil had about not bothering anyone with his music, the other sides didn’t share them. Roman didn’t hesitate to sing whatever came to mind as it came to mind, offering full renditions of his favourite musical tracks daily, Logan could be heard humming to himself as he worked, Remus had no restraint about… Anything, really, and this was no different, Janus wasn’t exactly considerate, and Patton- Patton was the worst at all.

He wandered the mindscape belting out whatever was in his head at the moment which, as a father figure, was always old, tacky, and bad. They’d learned to ignore it for the most part, but some of the songs he played… Some of them were just unforgivable. And, sitting on the couch as Patton tidied up a little, Virgil had left himself completely at their mercy.

“JOLENE-”

Virgil pulled his hoodie over his ears, wishing he’d brought his headphones. Or just not left his room. “Please, no.”

“Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeeeeene, I’m begging of you please don’t take my man-”

“Pain, Padre. This is causing me physical pain.” Virgil groaned, slamming his head back in an attempt to make it all stop. Unfortunately, the sofa was soft, and he just bounced back. Eurgh.

“Awh, cmon kiddo! I’m just singing. You could always join me.” Patton chirped, rearranging the same jar for the fourth time in three minutes.

“I might die.” Virgil deadpanned, staring Patton dead in the eyes, and he giggled.

“Don’t be silly… Come on, my music isn’t that bad!”

Virgil couldn’t quite believe his ears. Maybe they were still bleeding from being subjected to Dolly Parton. “You listen to dad music.”

“Well, yeah, but what else did you expect from your pops-”

Virgil groaned louder, shaking his head. “I- whatever. When’d you even start listening to country music?”

“Nico likes it!” Patton replied, brightly, and Virgil bristled.

“That’s it, Thomas has to break it off.”

It took Patton a second to recognize Virgil was joking, and he started laughing. “Don’t be so judgy! I listen to your music- in fact, I quite like being cautious in the disco.”

“Oh my god.” Virgil pulled his hood down further over his eyes, the secondhand embarrassment hitting him full force. “You’re so old.”

“Now, I know I’m no spring chicken, but that’s hardly a nice thing to say-”

“We are all the same age.” Logan interjected as he walked through the room, gone before Virgil could try and drag the only other sane one around him to his aid.

“Look, Patt- I love you, but Dolly is too far.” Jesus, Virgil was spending too much time with Roman. Dramatic ultimatums weren’t his style at all.

“... How about Country Roads?”

“Jesus Christ.” Virgil sunk further back into the sofa, hoping it’d just swallow him and his smile.

-

“I wanna play a song.”

“Get your own headphones.”

“But yours are so loud, they’re basically speakers! You ever turn them up to full volume while they’re on? How loud are they? Oooh, reckon they could rupture your eardrums so blood would bubble out your ears and trail down your face-”

“Stop.” Virgil interrupted with a grimace, before Remus’ imagination could go anywhere gorier. They’d been at this for ten minutes and his answer hadn’t wavered once. “It’s a no, alright? Just… Go away.”

Remus huffed loudly and dropped onto the sofa next to Virgil. Great. “What do you want?”

“Hmmm… Oh, I can do a list!” Remus declared, and before Virgil could tell him please, god, don’t, he was off. “A pony- to disembowel so I can use its guts for ritual purposes, that one dick in a Russian erotica museum they claim is Rasputins and has magical fertility powers, for Barry Bee Benson to be real so I can fu-”

“Alright!” Virgil shuddered and disconnected his headphones. He didn’t know what Remus wanted to do with a literal bee, and he liked it that way. “There.”

Remus grinned a grin with far too many teeth, just a little too sharp, and Virgil rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever monstrosity he was about to hear.

 There’s some whores in this house, there’s some-

“You did not just play WAP!” Virgil punched Remus in the arm, pulling his headphones off “You- I swear to God, don’t do the dance.”

Remus was already halfway stood up and Virgil quickly pulled him back down. He’d never wanted Remus to stay sat next to him more in his life. (To be fair, it wasn’t something he felt often.)

“But I already know it!”

“Of course you do.” Virgil grumbled, glancing over at Remus. “Why do you have to play… This, up here?”

“Jannie’s kicked me out, you know how he is.”

Virgil blinked at him, regretting what he was about to say before the words even left his mouth. “If I get him to back off, will you keep your music to the dark side?”

“That’s not fun, though! Ooh, wait, Logan likes rap, doesn’t he? Reckon he’d like to see the dance?”

Virgil stared at Remus blankly. “Please, say that was a joke.”

“It wasn’t! If you wanna hear one, though… Ooh, ok. Two kids walk into a hospice- ”

“No.” Virgil interrupted again, although even he had to snort a little at how ridiculous it was. Even if it was also deeply, deeply twisted. “I- look, I’m gonna do it.”

Remus tilted his head further then looked natural. Virgil was pretty sure he heard a crack. “Thought you hated me and Double Dee.”

“I- I’m just doing this for my sanity, alright? And Logans.” Virgil snapped back, avoiding meeting his eyes.

Avoiding things didn’t work with Remus, though, and soon enough he was uncomfortably close, peering right at Virgil with that unsettling grin. “Awww, Purps is being nice to us.”

“Shut up.” Virgil hissed, sinking out before Remus could pry any further. Creativity was so pushy, Jesus.

-

Virgil shuddered. He hadn’t been in the dark side of the mindscape in years and, after so long of the bright upstairs, the dark walls felt a little claustrophobic. He just needed to make this quick.

He strode down the hallway, trying to squash the growing nervousness in his stomach. What was the worst that could happen?

… Literally the worst thing he could’ve asked himself, he realised, speeding up subconsciously. So much could go wrong, while he was down here, and he didn’t even know where Deceit was, what if he tripped and fell and broke something and nobody would-

Piano, faint, made him stop in his tracks.

He wasn’t really an expert in classical music, but this had to be one of the more famous pieces, because he’d definitely heard it before. It was good, though, Mozart or something. Pretty difficult, too.

Exactly the kind of pretentious shit Deceit would play, and kick Remus out to enjoy. (Although Virgil couldn’t really blame him for that second part). Emboldened now he knew he wasn’t alone, and could make some jokes about what a snob he was, Virgil entered the room the sound was coming from.

He paled, because in front of him sat Deceit. At a piano. Playing the song.

“Since when do you play.”

Deceit only glanced up at Virgil, the melody smooth even with the interruption. He hated to admit it, but it was impressive. “Things have been quiet. I had time.”

“Quiet? With Remus?”

“I made things quiet.” Deceit amended, shrugging nonchalantly. Knowing him, it had probably been meant to sound as murder-y as it did. Didn’t stop Virgil from shuddering, anyway, serving as the perfect reminder of just how desperately he wanted to leave.

“Alright, look- whatever plan or plot this is, or is covering up, I don’t care.”

Deceit sighed, looking up at Virgil without faltering the music once. Jesus, he actually was good. “You’re right, I’m incapable of having any interests whatsoever without there being some deep, sinister plot behind it. You’ve spotted my evil plan.”

“I- alright, sarcasm’s meant to be for something obviously not true! That could be true!” Virgil protested, already feeling like he was losing this.

Deceit just raised an eyebrow at him in response, and Virgil instinctively hissed back, feeling more and more like he was backed into a corner.

Deceit had the nerve to laugh at him. “It’s been a while since you’ve done that.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve had to talk to anyone so- so-” Virgil groaned, glaring at Deceit. “Stop playing that stupid thing, would you?”

“Alright.” Deceit agreed, and Virgil waited. He kept waiting. The piano continued and after an excruciating minute of listening for an end, he cursed. Why had Virgil assumed he’d be honest?

“Dick.”

“That is my legal name.” Deceit agreed dryly, and Virgil rolled his eyes. He was impossible to talk to.

“Look, just let Remus back down. He’s probably scarring Logan as we speak.”

Deceit smiled at the thought, looking back down at the keys as he played them. “I never said he couldn’t be down here. Oh, and I’m sure there’s /nothing/ about ‘scarring’ Logan that could’ve appealed to him.”

“What, so Remus lied?” Virgil crossed his arms. Remus was plenty of things, but one of them was painfully, brutally, upfront and honest. “That’s your thing.”

“Not lied.” Deceit tutted, like scolding a child for not knowing something they should have. Virgil clenched his fists. “Just… Was dramatic.”

Virgil tried to figure out what he meant before realising it meant literally nothing, and he glared at Deceit. “Stop being so cryptic for five seconds and tell me, Jesus.”

“I wasn’t aware you cared about him so much.” Deceit smirked, and Virgil threw his arms up in exasperation.

“I’m trying to get rid of him!”

Deceit snickered but finally, mercifully, seemed to have already had his fun. “I didn’t tell him to get out if he couldn’t just be quiet and not…” His smile faltered… “Dance on the piano.”

Yeah, that expression was priceless. Virgil laughed as Janus furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Just… Nevermind.” Virgil was pretty sure imagining that scene playing out was enough entertainment to last him weeks. And a reminder that honestly… Remus didn’t cause as much chaos as he gave him credit for. He was all bark… And plenty of bite, too, but nothing too permanent. “Keep playing, or whatever.”

“You aren’t going to demand I fetch the Duke?”

“He’s not a dog.” Virgil dismissed, resisting a smile at Deceit’s murmured ‘ehhhhh’. “He’ll come back when he wants to. And Logan can look after himself.”

“Amazing.” Deceit sighed heavily. “You wasted my time for nothing, then.”

Virgil could be proud of that, at the very least. He grinned in way of response, sending Deceit a nod before he sunk out.

[kaminobiwan]

Yay another blurb! So I love music a lot, so much so that my family jokes a lot about how I can’t do anything without having some music on (cook, clean, do homework, study, read, or just hang out), and I love to share my fave music with others. How would sharing your favorite songs with Obi-Wan be like? 🥺 also, to honor the fact that I won this blurb due to guessing an amazing song correctly 👌🏼👌🏼

this one’s for you chasity! I listened to ‘lovin’ you’ by minnie again while writing this. I really love how it turned out :-)

☾ karinteractions™ | blurbs

✵✵✵ rini’s minis ; obi-wan + favourite song

he’d never really questioned it. in all the time he’s spent with you, music in the background was just a staple of your ambience.

you seemed to have the perfect playlist without even planning it—lively, jaunting brass when you were cooking, bouncing from the cabinets to the stove; humming, quiet lullabies when he’d come back from a mission, tired and weary; melodic, heartbreaking siren melodies that pulled at his heartstrings and always ended in one of you pulling the other up to dance.

so when you asked him to listen to a particular song, in the midst of reading silently in each other’s company, he’d been rightfully quizzical. “I always listen to your songs, love.”

you shake your head at him, eager smile creeping slowly across your lips. “I don’t mean like that, obi. I want you to listen. don’t just hear it.”

he’s not exactly following what you’re getting at, but then again, he’s never been one to doubt you. especially when you looked at him like that.

so he closes the tab he’d been skimming, sets the datapad on the table, and sinks back into the chair. listens. understands.

it’s a beautiful song. rich and triumphant, but subtle enough that he can let it soak into his ears and still hear himself think. he recognizes it, actually—you sing along to this one nearly every time it plays. this time, though, your eyes are closed, nodding along, occasionally peeking open to catch a glimpse of him.

when it finishes with a final ringing note, the radio seems to want to end on such a sentiment, because nothing fills the silence that comes after. you clamber across the chairs to squish in next to him, and he gives a laugh when your legs entangle.

“that’s my favourite song,” you whisper, hands carding through his hair. his eyes follow you with blazing adoration, and he can’t help but match your wondrous expression. “I wanted you to know.”

he says nothing but the last chorus, repeating the tune back to you as your lips meet sweetly. “I loved it. I love you.”

you respond harmoniously, voices entertwining in a less than accurate rendition, but it’s perfect. it’s your song now, the both of yours.

when he saves the tune to his comlink for later, the memory replays in his heart—this will get him through the nights without you, surely. nothing better could remind him of you.

[fmdsimon]

20-30

idol life and career meme : not accepting

did you enjoy the lifestyle of a trainee or of a debuted idol more?

“i don’t think i can really say much about this yet. i’ve been a trainee for around six years, but only a debuted idol for two months, everything is still so new that it seems amazing and overwhelming. evenifi say idol life now, that might change in the future when i get accustomed to everything after all. right now it seems like the dream come true, but even dreams become daily life some day. that’s just how it is even though it’s sad. but in the end i think i’d still pick life as a debuted idol over life as a trainee, because it’s much easier for me to accomplish my goal of making people smile like this, and it will continue to be so in the future.”

what one song or album by another group or soloist would you have liked to release yourself?

“bohemian rhapsody. nothing will ever get as iconic as that one song, so imagine being the creator behind it. i don’t know a single person who doesn’t know it or have at least heard of it even if they don’t know the lyrics or melody. as for kpop songs... i really like charm’s smile flower or pinwheel. i’ve always really liked listening to ballads and charm has some amazing ones that really show off their vocal talent. i really admire them.”

describe your dream sub-unit (members and concept).

“we’re already such a small group that if you were to take away some of our members we’d barely remain! i think it would be really cool though maybe for a concert or something to do accoustic arrangements of some of our songs! like i can imagine a really emotional rendition of nap of a star. i’d pick me, hyun ( @fmddaehyun ), and blue ( @fmdkyubok ) for this. and then haru ( @fmdharu ) and rioh ( @fmdrioh ) could do some amazing dance performance and show off their real talent! both of them are so good at dancing i’m sure they might even go viral for it if they had a chance to let loose as they please!”

out of the following six options, would you rather be allowed to play a major hand in the lyrics, production, choreography, styling, music videos, or concepts you release?

“definitely lyrics. lyrics have always mattered a lot to me because they’re the whole essence of the song, the meaning, the interpreation. you can really capture emotions with lyrics and make people listen to your songs in a whole different way and relate to it. that’s why i like our title track crown so much myself. i think it’s a very relateable song and that it has a really good message, and i really hope we can continue making songs like that in the future!”

which of the two other companies (out of bc, dimensions, and gold star) you are not currently signed under would you rather be an artist in?

“hm, both of them have their ups and downs so it’s kind of hard to pick... in the end i think that it doesn’t as much depend on the company but the group you’re in. if you have awful chemistry with your team mates it doesn’t matter where you are, it’ll still be just as bothersome. but for the sake of picking one, i’d pick dimensions, that’s where my best friend is after all!”

what is your least favorite part of being an idol?

“that has to be the fact that we have little control over ourselves. i know we signed a contract on this, but the moment you sign that you kind of sell away your entire self down to your personality. we are owned by our company and if we dare to even think out of line it won’t go about unpunished. i don’t like it but at the same time i deal with it. i don’t matter really, i’ve sold my soul for other’s sake and that’s the only thing that matters to me.”

what is your favorite part of being an idol?

“that’s easy. the fan interactions. even if what we’re selling through fansigns and stuff like that is just the image the fans want to see, i think there’s also something real in that image. others might not agree with me, but i don’t think you can build a character without putting at least some of yourself into it. if you did, you would either lose the facade along the way or lose yourself in the facade. of course i can’t tell this to the fans, but dealing with them is kind of bothersome. but even if it is, i also look forward to it, because seeing their happy faces when they encounter us makes it all the worthwhile!”

would you rather be incredibly famous with a terrible reputation and hated by most or be fairly unknown with a good reputation and adored by those who know of you? why?

“interesting. i think most people would pick the latter here, no? it makes sense, i don’t think anyone would want to be hated... which is why i’m probably weird for picking the first. i don’t really care about myself or my image -- it’s not that i care about fame either, but if i’m completely unknown then i can’t reach out to everyone like i want to. i want the whole world to know who i am after all. it might be selfish and it might not make much sense if the world is going to hate me, but if i can discard myself for the sake of others then it’s fine. maybe it’s even easier to laugh at someone you hate because it’s satisfying!”

what moment in your career are you proudest of so far?

“i can’t really say my career has a lot of moments so far in the first place, so there might be other more memorable moments along the way that i don’t know of yet, but so far it definitely has to be getting into the top five in hot topic. was the show rigged from the get go? i don’t know and honestly i don’t care. i deserve this spot too and since no one knows either way, i might as well have made it in by my own effort... i wish more people would see it that way, but we have got quite a bit of criticism before we even debuted. people complaining that their favourite contestants didn’t make it in and using the rumours as an excuse to assume the results would have been different for them otherwise. but they aren’t the results are as they are and nothing is going to change that. it’s bittersweet in a way, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the moment that defined us as vive, and i am incredibly proud of us for that.”

what have you learned about yourself and/or society since becoming a celebrity?

“for myself i guess i got surprised at how greedy i can be. before i joined hot topic i was ready to give up on idol life and just accept the fact that i was just going to end up with an ordinary day job as a salaryman or something like that. but when i started getting recognition i started wanting more and more. it felt amazing. to watch everyone’s eyes on me and to have everyone cheer for me. i love that. i want to feel that feeling much more from here on out; to have vive achieve incredible things and show everyone who doubted us that we are indeed the nation’s handpicked group and that they were not wrong in choosing me or any of the others.”

what would you like to change about how society views or treats idols?

“this is a bit difficult because a lot of things could be changed if you ask me. but if i have to pick one thing, i think i’d do something about how readily people trust rumous. anyone can post anything online, and suddenly you become a trashy human being for something you may not even have done. if someone says you looked at them the wrong way in primary school, suddenly there’s rumous about you being a school bully, if you treat a girl nicely suddenly you’re dating. that kind of thing. we have no room for mistakes and that’s fair i guess -- we are supposed to be painted as some kind of superhumans who can do no wrong, but sometimes you don’t even make a mistake and then you’re going down.”

[duckyworth]

I finally managed to make a piece of fanart for The Adventures of Mark Twain, a film that I saw last month that became one of my new favourite films.  So here is Mark Twain piloting his awesome airship towards Halley's Comet with Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Becky Thatcher and Huck's pet frog Homer - as Twain’s darker self broods and laments the perceived pointlessness of it all down below. :( I also wanted to use this opportunity to write a little mini review of the film. :D

As iconic as the 'The Mysterious Stranger' segment is, I wanted to draw something based on the film that wasn't that bit, as I feel this film is one of those films that gets mainly remembered for one scene in particular, even though I think there are many more scenes that are just as worthy of being remembered. The film follows Mark Twain trying to use his cool airship to catch up with Halley's Comet, as Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn and Becky Thatcher have snuck aboard and he allows them to help, but upon learning that Mark Twain is catching up with the comet due to a death wish and find a version of him that is much more nihilistic and bitter than the kindly and optimistic man they meet, they try to sabotage the voyage, before they learn the truth why he wants to be reunited with Halley's Comet. (Mark Twain said - '“I came in with Halley's Comet in 1835. It is coming again next year, and I expect to go out with it. It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I don't go out with Halley's Comet. The Almighty has said, no doubt: "Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.”' He was born in 1835, when the comet appeared in the sky, and he passed away in 1910, just as the comet passed close to Earth again. And this film came out in 1985, when the comet passed by AGAIN. One reason why I absolutely LOVE the film is due to not just the fantastic and beautiful claymation animation courtesy of the late great Will Vinton and his crew (who I recently discovered became LAIKA Studios  ) - despite a few strings being present here and there when characters jump and them not being able to walk properly, I think the detail and care put into the clay characters is brilliant, and for the first feature length claymation film, it's really impressive  - or the charmingly weird renditions of many of Mark Twain's stories like The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, The Diary of Adam and Eve and Captain Stormfield's Visit To Heaven), but because it's a sweet and heartwarming tribute to Samuel Clemens himself. Before I saw this film, I did some research on him (I didn't know that much about Samuel Clemens as he doesn't have as much prevalence over here in the UK as he does in the USA - I didn't even know he wrote The Prince and the Pauper  - and when this film came out in the UK, it was simply named Comet Quest ), and I think his life story is FASCINATING. As well as becoming known as the father of American Literature, I found it really interesting learning about his various beliefs and life experiences that is reflected in his work, and to be honest, I find the themes this film tackles are actually pretty prevalent to a lot of content creators today. Early in his works, Mark Twain was known as having a great sense of humour, and a lot of his early works would be considered standup comedy today (and upon looking up some of his quotes and his works, I can believe it - he is a GREAT snarker  And a lot of his quotes even had him say that 'humour is mankind's greatest blessing' and 'kindness is the language which the death can hear and the blind can see' - it also helps that the film uses a lot of the quotes he himself said in life  ). And seen as his first few years before he became a writer had him work as a riverboat pilot in Missouri and he was born a son of Missouri slave owners (even though he was an abolitionist), I can see how some of his experiences would inspire his most famous works like Tom Sawyer.  With him also keeping a dream journal for a large part of his life, I can also see that very well being something that inspired some of the more weird visuals in this film. Sadly, late in his life, he not only started suffering from losing most of his hard earned fortune to bad business investments, but his younger brothers, wife Olivia and three of their four children lost their lives, and he blamed himself for all of them, which led him to become extremely jaded and disillusioned with mankind and the idea of a God later in his life, but when viewing his later works which delved into him discussing these ideologies of his, I've seen that a lot of his critics passed him off as a sad and pathetic old man by this point, even though he had been affected by his misfortunes and believed the fame he's received didn't mean anything in the end when he had lost all that was near and dear to him.  And a lot of his nihilism he developed later in life led to him writing things like The Mysterious Stranger when he became disillusioned with humanity and some of it's darker aspects.  (But I do like the joke in the film that when they're losing dead weight to catch up with Halley's Comet, Mark stops The Mysterious Stranger being tossed out as he says it'll be finished in a few years - a reference to the fact the book wasn't finished and published until years after Mark Twain passed away.  ) Which is where I think the themes of the film comes into play - Mark Twain is split in the film into a light and dark side, the light side being his comical and optimistic self, and his dark side being his jaded and pessimistic side, but as the dark side says later in the film 'Every man is a moon, and has a dark side that he keeps hidden from everybody, if he can help it.', and the light side tells Tom Sawyer that he's not whole without his more dark personality traits.  And a big reason why he wants to chase the comet in the first place is to be reunited with his late wife Olivia (I think the Adam and Eve segment in the film, as well as starting off pretty hilarious with rather goofy renditions of Genesis - Adam and Eve are both rather eccentric and goofy individuals who have pretty great chemistry with each other leading to them falling in love  - leading to what happened with Adam and Eve after they left the Garden of Eden, becomes really sad at the end when Adam is alone after Eve has passed away and he writes 'Wherever she was, there was Eden' - and Twain wrote The Diary of Eve as a posthumous love letter to Olivia.  ) I think there are a lot of times nowadays when a content creator is judged by only one or two elements of their perceived image without receiving the full picture, and it is unfair to judge ANYONE without knowing the full picture - there's no such thing as a completely perfect person, after all - no matter how altruistic or kind hearted someone may be, everyone has their flaws or inner demons that help shape them as an individual (I speak from experience, having experienced some myself that I'm having to cope with) - as the end credits song says 'You have to know their dreams, The devils and the gods, Before you know the man.'  And one scene I absolutely love at the end is the light and dark sides of Mark Twain giving advice to the three children - the light side imparting them, and the dark side giving the snarky humour that Mark Twain was known for in life.  (And of course, the part when the two Mark Twains fuse and become one with the comet was absolutely GORGEOUS animation.  ) All I can say at this point is that I'm really glad I managed to come across a Blu Ray of the film on Amazon, and if you have a chance to watch the film, I highly recommend it.  And I hope you enjoy my fanart I drew of the film. :)

[pluviophile-bookworm]

I just saw the HSMTMTS season finale and I have some things to say

Well, it’s mostly about moments that left me speechless or made me cry, but well, I’ll try to put it to words. I’m writing this from memory so I hope I don’t miss anything. 

Carlos as Chad might just be even weirder than EJ as Chad - but I kinda like it. Although Chad without the big bouncy hair... is that even really Chad?

I feel like Mr. Mazzara isn’t telling us something about his background. To put it in Big Red’s words “You know a lot about technical theatre for a STEM teacher”. Although, you know, Big Red’s one to talk - that scene in the credits was... well, I’ll get to it later. 

Nini’s face when she saw EJ as Troy... that was more shocking than she could take in the situation she was in. I was going to say maybe Ricky didn’t quite think it through what it would be like for her, but then he did try to let her know. But if we’ve learnt something from Ms. Darbus, it’s that there’s no phones in the theatre. 

Ashlyn as Ms. Darbus performing Wondering and Big Red’s giant smile when he looks at her give me life. I’m just kinda sad we didn’t get to see the whole thing. But it was for an important reason, so...

Speaking of that, Ricky's mum has no right to talk about commitment. Not after bringing both her...( husband? Ex-husband? Are they even officially divorced yet? I forgot.) and her boyfriend to her son’s first ever show. But Ricky said it all much better than I could. 

Watching this scene, when she said “Not all couples are meant to be together”, I was like, does this have anything to do with Ricky and Nini? After seeing the whole episode, I still don’t quite know the answer to that question.

Can I just say that Seb’s family is the best? All of them being there to support him, the posters, the enthusiasm... if anybody in that audience had something not-so-positive to say about him playing Sharpay... well, they could try, but if I were them I wouldn’t dare in the presence of the Seb Protection Squad. Not that anyone’s saying anything anyway. But Seb’s performance of Bop to the Top is another musical number I hoped I’d get to see in all its glory. 

Kourtney calling what Ricky did “sweet in a really dumb way” is quite an accurate description. That’s our boy - what they call “dumb of ass, pure of heart” - in the best way possible. Also, we do realise he’s doing all of this because of Nini, don’t we? It was because of her that he ever auditioned, and it’s because of her that he stepped back when he felt like he couldn’t be the best leading man for her. Honestly, I didn’t know who to ship with whom, and I still don’t quite know, but Ricky just loves Nini so much - in a way that’s not just about romantic love, you know. Theirs is deeper than that. 

As EJ and Nini stepped out on stage for Breaking Free, I felt like they weren’t just acting their lines - they were living them. Like Nini was secretly telling EJ “this doesn’t feel right, I can’t do it, it’s too much”, and EJ was trying to calm her down and help her focus. And then the whole “remember kindergarten” thing... I saw what you did there, Mr. Wonderstudy. And getting the tickets for Gina to come back... I had my doubts about this one in the beginning, but he might just turn out to be a new favourite of mine. His heart is in the right place after all. 

Ricky and Nini’s chemistry is just unbelievable. Unbelievable, I say. You have no idea how I cried throughout the whole song. I don’t know how Josh and Olivia do it, or how the casting directors did it, but something brought them both together and it’s their chemistry that’s selling it all in my humble opinion. That and the insane talent of everyone else in this out-of-this-world cast, I just love them so much. I don’t think we as a fandom fully appreciate how lucky we are to be able to witness all these amazing people shine. 

Ricky and Nini’s mirroring reactions to what just played out on stage was solid proof that it was just as much a “wow” moment for them as it was for us - or at least for me.Tell me if you felt that way about it too.

“We’re all in this together” has always been a really special song to me and, I suppose, everyone else who grew up with HSM, but this rendition really had something extra special about it. It’s just one of those things that have what the French call je ne sais quoi... and giving Miss Jenn her moment with the apple line - sure, there are things more important than “a line about a piece of fruit”, but that was a lovely way to express their love and gratitude to her for being their teacher.

“Big Red the third”... so it’s a family thing? Now I really want to know more about it. And I just love his parents’ reaction to his vital participation in the show. Seriously, most parents in this series are just so wholesome and cool, and then there are Ricky’s... i prefer not to talk about it. 

The mystery of the flowers was resolved in the loveliest way possible, and then... why did Kourtney have to appear right at that moment? 

Can we talk about that moment in Nini’s dressing room? This is how to say “I love you”. I don’t know what exactly gave Ricky whatever he needed in order to say it after all this time, but he did say it and I’d be lying if I tried to pretend like I didn’t cry right at that moment. 

That was just about the biggest damn kiss since Shirbert in AWAE 3x10. And how many were there, actually? And the gifts... how lovely. But seriously, why does Kourtney have to be such a moment killer? I love her anyway.

Is Ash thinking what I’m thinking she’s thinking? Is Gina staying at her place? Is Gina staying anywhere? I need to know. But with everything that happened in this episode, I’m willing to wait as long as it takes. 

Miss Jenn and Mr. Mezzara started the fire... I don’t like where this is going. 

So we established that Gina might just be staying... but Nini cannot leave now, can she? I feel like this might turn into HSM3 and I don’t quite like it. 

Now, about that credits scene... that was... something. I can’t say I expected it, but I’d be lying if I say it was totally unexpected. And then, when Ashlyn came in, it reminded me quite a bit of that post-credits scene with Sharpay and Zeke in the original movie... except way, way better. And seriously, I cannot wait for the second season, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes after this wonderful finale - whatever it might cost me. 

[gracie-p8-officialblog]

Phantom Ask Meme! 8. Why do you love phantom? 9. Favorite phantom song? 14. You’re putting together a “phantom-inspired playlist: top three songs?

8.  Why do you love Phantom?

Well... because of the fandom. I am grateful for how even after 30 years, the community is still strong! Well, there are some bad apples I tend to turn away from most of the time but all in all, my experience in this fandom has been smooth sailing. And y’all are SO talented, I’m just-  🥺🥺🥺

9. Favourite Phantom Song?

“Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again” without a doubt! To me, it’s one of the major factors I use to judge a Christine actress because Christine's growth in the song is a JOURNEY. It’s the moment where she realizes she can’t run away from reality and must change her fate by herself. When we first see Christine in this song, she’s like a vulnerable, confused child trapped in a situation she doesn’t want to be in before wishing that her father was still alive and reminisces on all the fun times they had together. Then, a moment of epiphany hits her. Her dad won’t come back, she must stop running from her fears, and she must confront them while having a bittersweet closure to her memories. And all that character growth makes me go-  🥺🥺🥺. Yeah, this is why I dislike the 2004 movie’s rendition. Emmy’ Christine just had the same blank expression and showed no signs of change or conflict in this song. Tho I blame it on the director trying to make Christine Bella Swan 2.0 :P

14.  You’re putting together a “Phantom-inspired” playlist: Top three songs?

1) “Evermore” from Beauty and the Beast

2) “Safe and Sound” by Taylor Swift

3) “All I’ve Ever Known” from Hadestown

[stormskates]

Rika Kihira - Breakfast in Baghdad | Program Review

Choreography by Shae-Lynne Bourne

Photo from @sportsnavi_figure

The Concept

Living in the busy city of Baghdad, a girl goes about her morning routine. It’s a simple concept, fitting enough for a short program. When you have less than three minutes for a performance, it’s much more strategic to flesh out the nuances of a single scene or simple concept.

The program interprets a single text: the music, Breakfast in Baghdad. Because this music piece isn’t tied to any pre-existing text (it hasn’t been used in films or shows or any pre-existing narrative), how the skater presents it becomes pivotal in relaying whatever concept they have in mind for it. 

BIB in particular is an example of how merely changing the costume can shift perspective. One interpretation of the music is seeing it as a modern jazz program, which is what we gathered as much from her performances in ice shows last summer when she was dressed in modern black pants and a black top. Naturally, this understanding invited cognitive dissonance when she debuted the program in a deep, bright blue dress in competition. Given that Rika herself said in a recent interview that she had two costumes made for this program and both are dresses, we can assume that a modern jazz program hadn’t been the image she had in mind for this program at all. 

Another interpretation of the music, which quells that dissonance, is as I’ve mentioned: a girl in Baghdad going about her morning in the city. That sheds light on the costume choice and the expressions in choreography. This isn’t about a scene as soft and tranquil as a girl leisurely dancing under moonlight, nor is it about dancing to jazz while the spotlight is on you—this is about the busy, stressful morning rush.

Photo from @sponichitokyophoto 

The Music

Breakfast in Baghdad portrays a busy, fast-paced morning in the city. The music is upbeat, with multiple changes in rhythm and minimal differences in tempo (it’s relatively fast overall, but there are short moments where it slows down, e.g. the moaning). The song is composed by Swedish jazz musician Ulf Wakenius. The version used for this program in particular is a cover sung by Youn Sun Ah, a Korean jazz vocalist.

I’ve pointed it out before, but just to recap: this has no cultural significance in Iraqi culture, and it is also in no way mocking Middle Eastern music with the vocals. It’s a song inspired by the city of Baghdad, which you can tell from the style of strumming and the beat. Youn Sun Ah is a vocal jazz artist, and scat singing is a style of vocal improvisation. If you’ve listened to the original song, you’ll observe that she’s imitating the original sounds and her high-pitched vocals changes the song’s energy and adds a pinch of humour. Ulf Wakenius’ original rendition of the song is much less perkier than this cover, and I reckon that’s why they didn’t go with it. Youn Sun Ah’s cover is attention-grabbing and theatrical, making it more fitting for performances.

GIF from @rika-kihira​

The Choreography

Shae-Lynne Bourne absolutely killed it with the choreography. Raykey did a brilliant job of annotating the program here. You can see that it’s packed with steps, transitions, multi-directional skating and wide range of body movement. The footwork is complicated, but that’s one of the major factors that makes the program come alive—relying on natural charisma without committing to those nuances could easily make this become less impressive. As the song has a relatively fast tempo as well, this makes performing the program even more difficult: you need precision and control, commitment to the choreography, and a high level of stamina maintained from beginning to end.

In terms of storytelling, the choreography reflects the rush of going about a morning in the city: from the hurried steps and frantic pacing to the languid moaning about a stressful day’s start. There’s a lot of dynamic, creative movements and varying expressions. 

My favourite part of the choreography is definitely her step sequence—I could watch that incredible footwork all day—but I also love the little bits of choreography in between elements, like this bit after the 3A:

GIF from @beth_gifs 

Other Notes

Breakfast in Baghdad was a program I had fears and doubts with at first watch, but now I can honestly say it’s Rika’s strongest short program yet. It’s several notches higher in difficulty not just in comparison to her previous programs, but also in comparison to most ladies’ short programs in competition right now. (Note: I emphasise on difficulty. Preference is personal.)  

Anyway, some other remarks:

On skating skills: This is an extremely challenging program, which is why anyone who pulls it off illustrates a terrific command of skating skills at a high level. You’ve got flow, ice coverage, precision, control, variety, and difficulty... how she hasn’t been rewarded 9s for this category is beyond me. 

On transitions: Packed, packed, packed! In a lot of other programs, skaters will have time to breathe after spins or jumps, but this doesn’t allot much of it at all. The structure also makes it difficult to maintain the speed and flow between elements. 

On composition: If you’re going to pay a choreographer some thousands of dollars for a program to help you win competitions, the choreography better be as well-composed and creative as this. The phrasing is clear but also blends into the entire choreography.

On interpretation of the music: The music has a fast tempo and upbeat rhythm, and Rika has no problem matching up to it. This is also much more well-suited to her strengths in expression compared to Claire de Lune, imo. She thrives much better in dynamic, playful, energetic programs like this. 

On performance: Despite what earlier performances may show, the SC performance shows that this program is a really good match for Rika. It challenges her performance quality: while her carriage and clarity of movement has always been very good, this demands her to be involved. When she isn’t, it becomes lacklustre, like what we’ve seen in ACI. When she is, however, she comes off strong and impressive. Her performance in Skate Canada was the most confident and happy I’ve seen of her in a long while and I can only hope we’ll see more performances like that in the future.

All in all, it’s a brilliant program. I did appreciate the complexity of choreography in my first impressions of it, but my overall appreciation was definitely delayed by being confused with the concept. (The first impressions from ice show costume was an unfortunate misdirection.) It wasn’t until her performance that Skate Canada that everything just clicked, and I’ve converted completely from being neutral about it to unabashedly and wholeheartedly loving it. It’s technically advanced, it’s unconventional, it’s fun—it’s grown on me a lot.

[glamrockmonarch]

Pls do a 2019!Rog dirty imagine :(

Omg Anon! Are you ok? Are you in pain? Let me heal you with some fluff and filth! Sorry for the wait, I hope it is worth it!

Warnings: Yeah, it’s smutty my friends. Also, I didn’t proof-read this.

Ps. I got carried away. The songs in here are “Stomp!” by The Brothers Johnson, “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” by The Rolling Stones “Rock You Like a Hurricane” by Scorpions, and “Livin’ On a Prayer” by Bon Jovi.

You are dancing in your room in only your underwear. Roger had to go to a meeting with Brian earlier, some sort of dinner with the new director for Bohemian Rhapsody; you had decided on not going with him so the men could get down to business without any distractions, you doubt Brian would show up at the restaurant with Anita.

While Roger left you decided on taking a long bath, it would be a great way to relax after a stressful couple of days. You have been pressured by your bandmates to write at least a couple of songs for your next album, but your brain has proved to be dry of creativity and inspiration. And although the bubble bath has done wonders with your back and legs, you need to let out some steam.

It has just been so long since your last tour. You miss the stage, the thrill of playing for the audience, the sweaty hugs you share with your bandmates ones the show is over, damn, you even miss sleeping on a tour bus.

So, of course, you get your favourite Fender precision bass and pull the strap over your head once you step out of the bathroom in your lilac panties and bra. With the speaks in the room turned on and the volume all the way up, you press play to one of the playlists on your phone. “Stomp!” by the brothers Johnson plays in the room and you start playing the line by heart, fingers feeling stiff at first from the few months since you last played this song during a recording session for Roger’s stuff. Once you’re comfortable with remembering the song you sing along too, moving from one side of the room to the other, stomping along to the beat. You sway your hips and turn.

“Stomp, you don't want to quit, put your heel where you're feeling it…” you sing.

The next song is one by a band you have discovered recently, the heavy bassline flows along with the sound of the guitar, you turn your amp up to overpower the speakers and get the sound of your instrument of choice to come through louder while you sing along to “Overnight”, letting your fingers go over the strings and close your eyes in innocent glee. Once the song ends you feel your spirits lifted, and go to your closed with your phone in hand. Leaving the bass on your bed, you go through your clothes and find a fur coat Roger gave you as an anniversary present, with it on you press play on a different playlist, distancing yourself from your the more funky music you are playing right now.

Skipping into the room with the beautiful black fur coat on, barely covering your ass and hanging open while you grab your bass and play again you dance around, jumping to the rhythm of the rolling stones’ “(I can’t get no) Satisfaction” you smile to yourself getting all the satisfaction you need from the simple act of pulling on the strings with your index and middle fingers as your left hand works the frets. It is only after a few more songs, while you play along with the Scorpions that Roger walks in on you putting on your crazy show. Your voice is loud and clear, rough and raw as Meine’s. Your husband closes the door, with all the care in the world not to make a sound that could make you aware of his presence. You shake your hair that you did not wet in the bathtub, it falls around your shoulders as you dance for a moment longer.

“He's licking his lips, he's ready to win, on the hunt tonight for love at first sting!” You move your leg, stomping on the carpet with your bare foot as you play along.

It is until the end of the song that you turn around and find the drummer watching you. With a hand coming up to your chest you jump back and close your eyes. This is not something embarrassing for you, it’s not the first time you have done something alike.  

“Cheeky rock and roll in the bedroom?” Roger wonders as the next song starts to play.

It’s Bon Jovi, so you have to admit, it’s pretty mainstream stuff. You shrug and look down at the fretboard, waiting for the bassline to start, you think you remember all of the songs, and it does take a few seconds into it for you to really get the hang of it, most of them you have not played in months or even years. Like riding a bike, you have surprised yourself tonight with how well you can still play most of them.

The bass comes in and you pay attention as your fingers move almost by instinct on the four strings of your bass; once the drums kick in you look up at Roger with a grin, cocking a brow as you enjoy yourself, dancing again, moving your shoulder to the beat.

“Tommy used to work on the docks, union's been on strike, he's down on his luck, it's tough, so tough…”

You start singing to him and move your lips in dramatic moves, even throwing your head back when the “Woah’s!” come up, making sure to shake your hair around.

“We’ll give it a shot!” You go up to him and catch him laughing as you turn your back against him, almost kneeling entirely as you play through the chorus, rubbing yourself on him until he sings along with you.

“Woah, we're halfway there!” You sing to each other standing as close as possible with your bass in between your bodies.

Roger loves your attitude when you play and he cannot feel any more turned on while he watches you deliver a confident rendition of any song with your fingers working either the bass on a way only you know how to.

Once the song comes to an end you put the bass away in the corner of the room, leaving it in its case. One of Roger’s songs comes on and he goes to grab your phone to see what else have you got in your playlist.

“I can’t believe you have this playing.” He says. “What has possessed you?”

A grin appears on your face and you run up to him, taking your phone from him, as the sound of the music vanishes you turn the Bluetooth off and place your phone on the dresser. When it got quiet you put your arms around his shoulders and watch him as he looks at you with a playful grin on his face.

“What?” You giggle, feeling silly for what you had been doing just a few minutes ago.

It takes your husband a moment to explain himself, but he does not have to say much, it is his gaze falling on the valley of delicate skin that stands between your breasts, and the lick of his lips when your coat opens a little more and he catches a glimpse of your shoulder that gives him away.

Pouting, you take a few steps back and go jump on your bed, sitting on your heels you model the coat for Roger.

“Do you like this?” You pull the collar up and tilt your chin down. “It’s soft and warm.”

Roger knows what you are doing and it is something he has to admit to being into. You bite your lip and blink with an innocent expression on your features.

“Do you want to feel something soft and warm?” This time it is more of a coo.

Roger’s breath catches on his throat and he feels himself growing more and more distracted by you once you bounce on your heels and run your hands on the fur. He comes to the bed and you stand on your knees in front of him, pulling at his shirt to throw it away somewhere.

“I’d like you to take it off, love, we don’t want to ruin your pretty coat.”

The game is familiar, you play it a few times every now and then. If you fuck with the coat on, you risk of staining it with body fluids or worse: tearing it.

Already with your mind made up you push the coat of your shoulders in a swift move, Roger kicks his shoes off and his hands find your waist, pulling you closer. You kiss, his lips leading yours in soft motions that have you gripping his shoulders while his hands run up your arms, his fingertips tickle your skin and you moan into the kiss once he slips his tongue inside your mouth. Without saying anything you reach down to pull his zipper down and help him kick his pants off only for Roger to feel around your back to undo the clip of your pretty bra. Once the piece has fallen to the floor his lips pull apart from yours and his hands cup your breasts. Still, his with your lips parted and your hands on his cheeks you gasp and moan at the feeling of your husband’s hands massaging your breasts, he brings his mouth to your collarbone and puts his hands on your waist now, sliding down your body to leave small marks with his mouth everywhere. He loves to hear you moan and enjoys the way your fingers tangle in his hair when he gives you pleasure.

You are not shy at all, so you let him know what you like, how you want him to touch you if you want him to do something different.

“Rog…” You catch his attention and he brings his face up to give you his attention. “Can I suck you?”

Your husband kisses your nose and lets go of you, motioning for you to do as you please with him. So you climb off the bed and go down on your knees in front of Roger, you pull his underwear away, watching his penis spring out of the constrictive boxers. You bite your bottom lip, looking at Roger with an almost innocent look on your face. You put your hands on his hard cock and bring his length to your lips, you give it a short kiss right on the tip only to test the waters and hear Roger sigh. So now you know you ought to go slow. You lick him a few times, teasing him a little before wrapping your lips around his thick cock, licking and sucking him you feel his hands dig into your scalp and he helps you find a pleasurable pace to blow him. Roger throws his head back, he feels so close to cumming he has to stop you before it’s too late. You smile up at him once he has had enough of your mouth.

You kiss his neck when you stand up helped by him. You drop your panties and reach to pick them up, placing them on your husband’s hand.

“Darling...Rog,” you cup his face, “I think I just wet my panties!” You fake concern with your eyes opened wide.

You watch him chuckle with your underwear in his hand. He feels it between his fingers and nods.

“I think you did.” He confirms, “I would have to check…” He cocks a brow and nods towards the bed.

With a sigh you crawl into the bed right in front of Roger, sticking your ass out for him. He follows you, climbing on top of you with a smile, unable to keep up the farce he pulls you back and stands behind you on his knees.

“Oh, is this how it is tonight?” You look back over your shoulder and see Roger wink at you. “Well, get on with it!”

Roger laughs and pulls your hips back towards him, he drags his cock along your folds, feeling the wetness that has gathered in your pussy. You let out a shaky breath and close your eyes while he plays with you for a minute, he enjoys the way you shake to the simple contact, but of course, nothing beats the feeling of being buried to the hilt inside you. And with that in mind, Roger positions himself at your entrance and squeezes your hips as he pushes into your tight pussy. He closes his eyes, relishing in the sound of a long moan that escapes your lips as he fills you.

“Don’t wait, don’t…” You bring your hand to the headboard for better support, “just - just fuck me, please!”

“Oh, Y/N…” Roger is not against this, but he has to wonder if your eagerness will cost you in some soreness in the morning. “Here we go, love!”

You feel him pull out almost entirely and then back in, it stings but also feels so good, you push your hips back onto his. With heavy breaths you start picking up the pace, getting closer as he hits you hard in that sweet sweet spot that lies deep in your core. You can feel your voice getting higher in pitch and Roger’s hand travels up to your neck as he thrusts into you. He bends down and reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit and whispering into your ear.

“Are you gonna cum for me, huh?” He says. “Are you gonna make that pretty sound?”

“Rog…” You whine but it sounds in no way sad, or angry.

“That’s the one…”

“Rog!” You feel like you are about to combust when he rubs your clit faster.

The only sound in the room is that of skin slapping on skin mixed with the headboard tapping on the wall, your knuckles turn white and you come undone at Roger’s mercy, feeling him still fucking you through your orgasm. Your walls tighten around his cock as he tries to keep up the pace thrusting into you until he cums inside you. Roger calls your name and buries himself into you as far as he can go, his seed spreads inside you and leaves you breathing heavily.

You let go of the headboard and collapse on the bed, hugging a bed to your chest while Roger pulls away and goes into your bathroom to get some paper towels to clean you up. After you are both clean and tucked into bed you kiss Roger’s hand as he spoons you; a silent show of affection he returns by kissing your hair.

[xxkellsvixen19xx]

Opposites Attract Colson Baker X Reader PT 1

Requested By @ateliefloresdaprimavera

Word Count: 1,838

A/N: Really playing with this concept so a part 2 is coming possibly doing multiple thoughts hmu and let me know guys! Hope you like it 😊

Song Lyrics: Young & Beautiful Lana Del Rey

People say opposites attract, that’s not only true for friends but also lovers. Colson can attest to that, he calls Y/N his lover his soul mate. One man and one woman, polar opposites but always at each other sides, through the good times and the bad.

Colson has been dating you for about 2 years they met at the record release party when his album Bloom came out. Y/N's  aesthetic flies in the face of modern sensibilities and embraces the carefree, the relaxed, and the unusual. With him no denying that he was handsome. His blonde hair, strong jaw and crystal blue eyes that seemed to make every girl melt right under his stare. Not to mention the fact that he always walked around in the latest designer clothes, all perfectly styled. He has the sex appeal of a god the tattoos adding to the bad boy mystique.

When they went public with their relationship surprisingly the fans took it well and have been very supportive. The comments on his IG posts showed so much love it is honestly sweet.

@Mystical Dimples: what a perfect couple @machinegunkelly & @YN

@FloatingHeart: Born to love each other!

@GirlOfNeptune: you two are so in love! Congratulations @machinegunkelly & @YN

Casie and you got along great she absolutely loved and adored you. And the two of you often had a girls day out lunch, shopping, it brought a smile to Colson's face knowing that Casie thought the word of you just like he did. The guys they thought of you like family and they were glad to see him so happy finally "It's about damn time!" Slim cheered out when you both broke the news to them. So many whoops of support, high fives, pats on the back and hugs it sort of felt like an episode of Full House. Y/N of course though may have a sweet quiet demeanor but don't let it fool you she loves smoking with Colson and the guys heck sometimes you could out smoke him like the best of them.

"Daddy are you going to ask Y/N to marry you?" Casie asking watching Colson look down at the elegant 7 carat diamond and gold engagement ring. "Yes special girl I am, I honestly believe we are meant to be together and I want to spend the rest of my life with her." Casie clapped and giggled jumping down off the bed bouncing out of the bedroom. "Daddy and Y/N sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g…" Colson couldn't suppress a giggle hearing the phrase echo down the hallway. You were beginning to awaken as you turned to face Colson wrapping and arm around him your other free hand rubbing his bare chest. "My babygirl stirs." He murmured kissing your head. Your eyes opened staring straight into his icy blue ones, it might be first thing in the morning but god he looked sexy. "Morning baby." Colson was going to wait till tonight and pop the big question but he couldn't take it he was to anxious to hold off any longer.

He grabbed your hand in his the ring clasped tightly in his other. "Y/N you have managed to do something I had't thought possible, love again." Placing the delicate engagement ring on your finger he asks "I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you, Y/N will you marry me?" Smiling you kiss him "Yes" you whispered a few tears of happiness sliding down your cheek. Pulling you tightly to him Colson broke out into a huge smile, "besides I need your sexy ass to keep my wild one in line." Colson couldn't imagine you not in his life, you balanced him out kept him anchored. The sex was absolutely incredible it managed to break out a side of you that drove him wild. There was no doubt in his mind that he had managed to snag the perfect woman and he wouldn't trade that for the world.

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

The party inside the club was going strong, you, Colson, Slim, Rook and others were in the VIP section. You had this planned in the back of your mind all day, you slipped away undetected by Colson and headed to the stage whispering something to the MC he nodded as he pressed a few buttons as you grabbed a mic.

//I've seen the world, lit it up, as my stage now. Channelling angels in a new age now. Hot summer days, rock and roll and all the way I got to know, your pretty face and electric soul...//

Colson recognized the first few bars of music instantly.

Somehow, as he watched your fingers curl around the mic, he knew you were thinking of him. From how your lips curled into that sly sexy smirk, to the rose of your cheeks, he knew. Colson felt like a voyeur now but found himself loving the buzzing and heavy feeling.

A mind hush took over the once-rowdy crowd as the tune and timbre of your voice matched and melted into the cords perfectly. The ballad poured from you with such emotion and flourish, as though singing in front of a hundred people was the easiest thing in the world for you to do. You clearly didn't need the prompter to know the words, so with your eyes closed you hit every single syllable and carried each note effortlessly. The gentle sway of your hips along with the music was magnetic and memorizing, not only to him but to nearly every other person in the club too.

//Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I've got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will...//

With a final smirk, Y/N ended her song and the crowd burst out into a boisterous ovation. Their whole table stood and cheered loudly, joining with the other patrons in their own enthusiastic applause.

You bowed graciously, grabbed your drink from the barstool next to the mic and exited stage right. You then walked towards their table, towards Colson, with a subtle purpose and a sultry look in your eye.

Your gaze landed on Colson's lean frame, sunk casually into the bend of the booth, his  leather jacket off, his white button down shirt his tattooed chest on full display. You contemplated jumping him right then and there but realized that no one really needed to see that.

Besides, you could keep your hands to yourself for one night, surely...

A drunk fleeting thought dared question how deliciously torturous it would be to spend all night next to him and not touch or kiss him. You imagined how cathartic it would be when you finally allowed yourself the pleasure. It was almost a challenge made silently unto one's self.

'How long could I really go?'

Because, God, he just looked so goddamn sexy. Colson's cool laid-back demeanour added to his enticing aesthetic, and you wondered, idly, how many others  in the club had noticed his effortless allure and charisma.

Pleasantly, his posture straightened as he saw you approach and that wicked side smirk tugged at his knowingly soft lips, making your knees weak.

'I won't last the night.' You thought to yourself.

Your beaming smile was sloppy and your limbs seemed extra loose as you approached, but judging by the empty champagne, shot and highball glasses that scattered the table your swagger was just.

Y/N then slipped into the booth next to Colson, settling in close, really close, a heavy hand falling on to his thigh under the table. She planted a firm kiss to his cheek with a wide grin.

'See? I can't even last 5 seconds...I won't last the night…

As the group chatted loudly about the day's activities, Colson found himself lost within warmth radiating off her, the smell of her perfume and sweet sweat invading his senses. His eyes drifted over her exposed neck, shoulders and ample cleavage. You looked like sin personified in that dress, the fit and cut leaving nothing but filthy desires to cloud his brain as he subtly adjusted himself in his seat.

You were amazing up there, by the way." Colson said.

You spin around to face him fully, the thin strap of your dress shifting down your shoulder with the movement, "Thanks, baby."

Without thought he reached up to put the fabric back in place, cool fingertips gliding over your warm skin. The action warmed you but you tried your best to recover quickly.

'...Girl... Focus up.'

"You had them hook, line and sinker,"

"I'm just a pretty H/C  up there in hot pink." You said with a flip of your wrist.

"Yea, you are, with the voice of a fucking angel."

A warm blush crept over your cheeks and chest, "Colson..."

"What? I'm serious."

"They reacted the same to Ashleigh,"

"I doubt that."

"And Kali."

"I doubt that even more."

"It's true!"

"Prove it." He challenged.

"What would you have me sing?" You asked sweetly.

Colson smirked, "Literally anything."

His lowered tone had his desired effect and as the words fell off his tongue a visible shiver rolled over you. You smirked back and sipped at your drink again, your eyes on his through thick blonde lashes.

After singing a few favourites including a cover of 'Chandelier ', then a duet with him to 'Bad Things', followed by a ballad rendition of 'Crazy', nearly consecutively, Y/N flopped back into their booth with a heavy sigh.

"Entertaining is hard work!"

"Yet another amazing performance," Colson topped up your water glass as you settled in, "-You wowed the crowd,"

A realization, if anything, it was a green light to engage in some sort of unspoken game of seducing you,

The thought alone drove him wild.

So, he kept up the silent charade, the rouse serving as an effective aphrodisiac, and was also, clearly, convincing.

"I'm not flirting." He offered gently.

"I know. You're just being your polite and charming shelf." You cooed at him.

A small smile pulled at his lips now, "What should I do?" He asked.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

Turning to face him more, you smirked again and cocked an eyebrow, "Well, that's not true."

As you spoke the hairs on the back of his neck stood up for the second time that night, "Oh?"

"You could find us an excuse to leave, and take me back home." You said with such a deadpan seriousness that he nearly choked on his beer.

"Bail on our engagement party?"

Y/N nodded, eyes dark and suggestive, "Just let me use the ladies room first,"

Colson didn't need to be told twice and agreed quickly as you slid out of the booth. He then stood just as you came out of the bathroom moments to grab your jacket and small purse.

"Ready?" He asked, sweeping his arm out in front of you and towards the doors.

"Very."

[robronsecretsanta]

Under Atmospheric Haze, Just Some Stratospheric Strays

Aaron and Robert spend their Christmas Eve-Eve together at Leeds’ German Market.

Merry Christmas, @aarondingel 🎄

All it took was some gentle persuasion. Well, if you can call a quick fumble in-between meetings and a sex sated, raspy grunt of “suppose I’ll have to say yes now, won’t I?!?,” persuasion.

It doesn’t take much for Aaron to give in to Robert’s extroverted propositions. Especially when he’s flashing that famous winning smile with Aaron’s sparkly, satisfied eyes reflecting right back. The same was happening, now. 50ft in the air in the centre of Leeds. High on overpriced German beer, frankfurters in a bun too big to even fit your mouth round, fancy festivities, and a pre-snog in the back row of the Everyman Cinema like lovesick teens - because of course, on Robert’s agenda, it had to be the place with the plush, leather seats and a hefty price.

“You’ve enjoyed yourself tonight, haven’t you?” Robert proudly pried, slightly turning to the side where his spent husband had his red hood covered head leaning against his shoulder.  

Although he’s already wrapped a new novelty jumper for Aaron to open on the morning of the 25th and is internally screaming with giddiness just thinking about it, Robert had insisted he wore the Santa hoodie for the occasion. It carries bittersweet memories but it’s also a damn good garb in the name of all things Christmas and it’s no use stuck at the back of the wardrobe kept safe and collecting dust.

(Robert also sussed Aaron had clung to that hoodie as a way for him to privately recollect and draw comfort from it for a year straight, and that brought him double the bubble of warmth and contentment.)

“How did you guess?!”

Aaron met his eyes with an undeniable smirk painted on his face. There was no getting past this one.

“Hmm, not sure. Could be the fact I’ve not seen you this relaxed in a long time. Or could be your competitive streak I had the pleasure of witnessing during a game of ruthless Hook A Duck with a ten year old kid.”

That earned Robert a light slap to the stomach followed by Aaron cuddling inches closer, one hand let loose and the other nestling against his husband’s knee. Robert’s teasing always ended up being more endearing than insulting, that he can vouch for.

Aaron chose to overlook a witty remark back and that had a lot to do with Robert reciprocating his hand movement with a gentle thumb rub. He swore he lost control of a steady heartbeat in that standstill second. After all these years and marriage signed on paper, it still feels like the first time. It still feels so right he can’t focus on anything but the way their tips touch, the solid connection moulding his senses, the overbearing scent he’s grown to harmoniously depend on.

“Yeah, alright, it’s been nice.” He opted for a flippant eye roll and a blasé attitude. “Summat different innit?! Better than being at home dealing with teen problems and dodgy business when we should actually be prepping for our first Christmas in our family home in two days time.”

Miles better in fact. It’d been the most carefree and genuinely chipper he’d felt in weeks. Yeah, okay, walking hand in hand with zero inhibitions around a crowded winter village full of fairy lights and wooden stalls, finished with a cosy indoor log fire retreat reeking of stale ale and a ride on the big wheel, had been a whole lot of light fun and a boost to the ole spirit system - both the festive and the self-credibility kind - but he wasn’t gonna let Robert know that. He didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt and make his self righteous ego any bigger than it already was.

A soft stare and a lopsided smile was what Aaron was faced with when he lifted his head back up. Robert’s eyes had always been Aaron’s uttermost favourite feature for as long as he can remember - the mesmerising sapphire sea green shade setting his soul alive, stamping on his beating heart and rapid pulse - and now, beneath the electric hues of purple and muted lustre shadows, he recalled the intoxicating thrill washing through him when he first realised there was no other visual he’d rather wake up to for the rest of his life.

“Remind me to bring you back here next year,” Robert simpered with a hint of unabashed adoration flashed across his entire face, bringing Aaron out of his brief daydream. “If it’s gonna bring out this soppy side of you I’m already booking the taxi.”

“Shut up,” Aaron scoffed. Failing to hide the spreading flush of his cheeks even in the now moonlit sky.

“No, I’m serious. I’m glad you agreed to it, in the end,” Robert’s voice lowered and his expression earnest. “It’s rare we get to spend proper quality time together now. What with you running the scrapyard whilst I con Graham for all he’s worth. Plus, it’s our first Christmas as a married couple so we’ve gotta start it the right way.”

A mediocre market filled with tacky mementos, sickly sweet air pollution, and rowdy groups of work do gatherings wasn’t the imagined idea of the most high class, romantic Christmas Eve-Eve celebratory date. It wasn’t exhilarating but it worked, because he had Robert beside him. Robert with his windswept hair and goofy grin and gangling limbs and ability to make anywhere feel like home.

“Yeah,” Aaron delicately whispered.

To an outsider, the audible silence weaved between them could be misjudged as awkward but to them, it was laced with meaning. Responsive words weren’t always needed. Especially here, in their own intimate bubble; both metaphorically and legitimately. (They were lucky to bag a carriage of their own on a hustled and bustled Sunday.)

This moment here, so placid they were able to drown out the rest of the world as though they were the only two to exist; even above the noise of jingling bells, booming kids, and classic renditions of songs, was worth its weight in gold.

“So, family home, ey?” Robert’s the first one to break the quiet; nudging Aaron and raising his brows with a light chuckle as though his brain’s been overriding with deep thoughts and he’s attempting to disguise it. “Never thought I’d get to hear that.” Yeah, he definitely had.

“Mad innit?!” Aaron met his eyes for the second time. “Bit different compared to last year.”

“What, when I embarrassed myself in front of an entire pub and then almost met my fate in the hands of a car bumper?”

Aaron didn’t answer, again. Just shook his head frivolously. He knew it probably still affected Robert. He knew he still reacted sensitively and this was a chance for him to momentarily mull over the weight of the situation. How it played a pivotal part to where they are currently, in the here and now.

“You know, I was thinking. Maybe we’d be able to bring our own family here one day. Use the little ones as an excuse to have a go of the swings and the carousel without looking deranged.”

That cheeky demeanour with a hint of hushed emotion had returned. Robert tended to change the subject once he’d evaluated and moved along the lines of his thought pattern. Only now Aaron was the one to be stirred. A shudder travelling down his spine all the way to the forefront of his mind where he instantaneously imagined Robert holding the waist of their toddler, faces radiating with infectious glee and laughter as they waved to the video camera Aaron was holding. Protecting and nurturing, just like the brilliant dad he’d seen him grow to be.

“Maybe. But first can we just savour the peace and quiet whilst we still have it.”

“Good idea. As long as you can admit I most definitely made the best decision of having a night here and I was right to convince you all along.” Robert really wasn’t going to let this one go.

Aaron still wasn’t going to profess the truth, but he was right. Tonight had been a dream. A dream that had somehow converted to real life. Real life he’d have never panned out for himself. The PDA. The gorgeous husband. The aimless yet wholeheartedly significant conversation. The state of serenity and security allowing him to let loose and lap up the jovial atmosphere. The plans for the future. The man he desired and was unconditionally devoted to, returning that with twice the emphasis; looking at him like the stars had gravitated towards his entire being. Having everything he ever needed, right here.

Robert drew Aaron even further towards him so their proximity had reached its pinnacle. Aaron couldn’t help but notice just how perfectly well their bodies fit together as he leaned into the arm wrapped around his shoulder. Their bonded torsos was like a moth to a flame. Like a drug he couldn’t ever get enough of.

“Maybe I can convince you to spill with a trip upstairs when we get home,” Robert was still rambling on in the depths of defeat.

That caught Aaron’s attention, an unavoidable lip bite and a blood rush to the top of his skull right down to his toes, but he still wasn’t giving in.

“You really are a stubborn git, you know that?” Robert accentuated every last syllable. “Good job I love you.”

And with a puckered kiss to his temple, a smooth thumb running over his knuckles, Aaron breathed a sigh of ease with a soft snigger. “I love you too, idiot.”

Maybe, just maybe, he could get used to every Christmas being as traditional and timeless as this.

[coppicefics]

Masked Omens: Week Four

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads ‘Masked Omens’.

Image 2 - A page from the Opinion section of the Capital Herald, dated Saturday, 16th January, 2021. Full image description and transcript below the cut. End ID.]

Read the fic here!

(Falling records template from Pixeden)

The Capital Herald, Saturday 16th January 2021 Opinion, page 20

Main Story: TOFFLEY GATE: FIFTEEN YEARS ON, IT’S NO HOME Where is the affordable housing that was promised? And why can’t local people get access to it? The Toffley Gate development once seemed like that most elusive of rarities; a politician's campaign promise made real. When Lawrence Richmond, a distinguished barrister, was elected as MP for Toffley South in 2005, it was partly on the strength of his pledge to build a brand new block of affordable accommodation for the people of Toffley. In fact, if you ask most local voters why the future Transport Secretary won his seat, they'll point in the direction of Toffley Gate. The development, it was claimed, would create jobs in the area, boost property values, and allow more buyers and renters on low incomes to invest wisely in their future. Fifteen years on, how are those claims holding up? Well, the development did indeed bring in construction jobs, as well as long-term positions in the shops and services on Toffley Gate's street level. As construction continued, however, some concerns were raised – even as early as February of 2006, seven months before the grand opening – that changes to the specification meant almost all the flats in the towering buildings would be described as luxury apartments, rather than affordable housing. But as long as they were still rented out at low rates, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. When the development's 312 flats were put on the market, however, 276 of them were priced at luxury rates. The remaining thirty-six were a single block of small studio apartments, suitable for a single occupant or two, a far cry from the family homes Richmond had promised to provide. Protests followed, in 2009 and 2010, but it was too late. Now, fifteen years on, only 194 Toffley Gate units are occupied. The rest remain empty and useless, far beyond the means of most local residents and workers. The Capital Herald popped into the local coffee shop to canvas opinions. “Oh, they're lovely, aren't they?” said Gladys Jones, retired, who'd stopped in with her grandson, Chris, a student. “I'd love one of those balconies, but not on my pension.” And Chris? “They're going for what, two or three grand a month? I could work for years and never save up enough to live there.” What would he like to see done with the place? “Drop the prices, maybe set them up as student accommodation, the uni's always oversubscribed. Or just... make sure normal people can afford them, you know?” “I put my name on the waiting list for the cheap flats when the place opened, when I was about twenty-five,” Jenny Tyler, a teacher, told me. I asked her what changed her mind. “No, I'm still on the list. Fifteen years, I'm still on the list.” Has she considered applying for one of the more expensive unused units? “No. On a teacher's pay? No, in fact, I'm moving back in with my dad. It's cheaper to commute in from Tadfield than to keep paying rent in Toffley.” And what of those behind the counter? Of the three employees on shift, two had joined the waiting list for the affordable housing at Toffley Gate. All three agreed that they'd love to live in one of the fancier units, if it were possible. One, Tom, has a second job as a cleaner on the development. “I have to clean all the luxury homes, even the empty ones,” he said. “And there are a lot of empty ones. Even the ones where you can tell someone's moved in, there's hardly any sign of life. It almost seems like an investment property type thing, but I don't know how they can be making money without sub-letting it.” When approached for comment, Lawrence Richmond – an Eton graduate who lives in a large historic house with his wife and son – argued that he is not responsible for market rates, nor for setting the level of affordable housing provision within the development. Why, then, did he make such grandiose promises during his election campaign in 2005? And why, sixteen years on and after several protests, is he still in office? If Richmond is as keen on affordable housing as he claimed to be in 2005 – as he has continued to claim, during the run-up to every local election since then – there must be something he can do, in his capacity as Toffley's MP, to encourage the building's owners, Selectan Homes Plc, to lower rents and allow lower-income families to access the many unoccupied units in the building. Surely it would be a win-win situation; Selectan would reap the rewards of a fully-let building, existing Toffley Gate residents would benefit from an invigorated community, and local people could live in the area where they actually worked. The businesses established at the base of the Toffley Gate tower blocks would have as many customers as they could want. In short, Lawrence Richmond, what are you waiting for? TINA MOON

[Image Description: A colour photograph of a gleaming block of flats. End ID] [Caption] Toffley Gate gleams in the sunshine. But are its units overpriced? (Photo: Daniel Brubaker on Unsplash)

Right hand column: OLD TUNES ARE BEST How wonderful to hear some music from the good old days on ITV’s The Masked Singer. When I sat down to watch it - under duress, I’ll admit, and largely to keep my wife and daughters happy - I expected nothing but noise of the variety that makes up the modern singles chart. Imagine my surprise and delight, then, when several of the songs reminded me of the heady days of my youth. Some, of course, were older still, overshooting the perfect era of my teenage years to land in the tragically uncool Jazz Age, but for the most part over the last few weeks I have been able to sing along with abandon, embarrassing my daughters no end and infuriating my wife, who is desperately trying to ascertain the identities of all of the disguised celebrities inside the ludicrous costumes. I doubt we’ve ever heard any of those voices before, given that the really big names in entertainment no doubt have better things to do than make such fools of themselves on a Saturday night, so I won’t be participating in the silly guessing game. Instead, I’m picking my favourites based on the songs they sang in the first few weeks. Snake is my favourite, by virtue of singing a Whitesnake song in the first live show, and it was a good enough performance that I will, for now, dismiss last week’s show as merely a momentary lapse in skill and judgement. Bonfire got everyone in my house smiling with ‘Disco Inferno’, and it’s rare that my children and I agree on anything, so they have to be the house favourite. Axolotl chose wisely in channelling Kermit the Frog, a universally beloved entertainer, and Pony’s tribute to America with ‘Horse With No Name’ was very enjoyable, too. So, I don’t know who Snake is but I’m rooting for them anyway, it seems. Who knows what tonight will bring? READER’S LETTER FROM DEREK METTE

Coupon, bottom third of page: [Image Description: Graphic of two falling record sleeves, with corresponding vinyl records also falling beside them. The first album sleeve shows two silhouettes of a face, looking towards each other in the style of the face/vase optical illusion, and is labelled “talking about it - Anathema”. The second shows a closeup of hands holding a book, and is labelled “Anathema - Narrative Devices”. At the bottom of the graphic are track listings. “Talking About It: Talking About it, Here I Go, Talking in Circles, The Magic Word, Seventh Sense, Pour My Heart Out, Nobody’s Fault, For A Spell, Living In The Past, Parting Words. Narrative Devices: Narrative Devices, Stab In The Dark, Look Before You Leap, Out Of The Crowd, Daisy Chains, I Hate To Leave, Ashes, Eagle Eyes, End of Days, Parting Ways.” End ID.] EXCLUSIVE DISCOUNT FOR CAPITAL HERALD READERS Exclusive to the Capital Herald, this voucher entitles you to 50% off the listed price of Anathema's first album, Talking About It, when you buy her new album, Narrative Devices. Featuring hit singles 'Daisy Chains' and 'End of Days', Narrative Devices has been described as 'a breath of fresh air for folk music' and 'a powerful meditation on the stories we tell ourselves every day'. 'Talking About It' contains the gorgeous ballad 'For A Spell', which has already sold over half a million units as a single in the two years since its release. Don't miss out on this amazing deal! Just take this coupon to your nearest participating retailer, or enter code CAP50 when ordering online. [Image Description: A barcode marked ‘FOR RETAILER USE’, from barcode.tec-it.com, and a QR code, from qr-code-generator.com. End ID.] Voucher expires 12AM 23/01/21. At participating retailers only. While stocks last. Not valid outside of fanfiction. For full terms and conditions, see page 28.

[falkenscreen]

ROCKETMAN

Rocketman is not a movie, at least not to me.

Anyone who writes about movies does it because they love movies and will, and should, assess any given picture as a film. We don’t generally question, at least in this form, whether we are altogether objective, but it’s none too often a subject comes along superseding even our affinity with cinema.

I’ve listened to Elton John as long as I’ve listened to music. To say it’s been a soundtrack to my life is an understatement and without embellishment the man’s discography is my very favourite. That I’m a bigger Elton John fan than a movie fan means no small thing when a film about his life comes along.

This biopic cannot be assessed by this author as easily as any other, for the simple matter of seeing Elton’s songs writ large on screen amidst high production values and an able star (more on this later) in and of itself is no little joy to behold. For Rocketman is not just a movie; it’s cyclical, near unabating cavalcade of greatest hits (and some obscure ones ‘Here and There’) just as much resembling every one of Elton’s last six Australian tours and no doubt decades worth of concerts.

Something between Jersey Boys and Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again, numbers are alternately relayed as background tracks, as if we’re watching an extravagant musical or otherwise via Elton (Taron Egerton) and co going about their regular lives; whether it be pitching to a producer or nutting out tunes on the piano. Director Dexter Fletcher imparting this story with a hybrid, at times surrealist recreation of the thrill fans will remember when first seeing Watford’s favourite son live, here’s hopefully as objective and impassioned an account you will get from someone who thinks you should stop reading and cue up ‘Madman Across The Water.’  

First thing’s first; Taron. It’s not the first time he and Elton (here serving as Executive Producer) nor Producer Matthew Vaughan have worked together. Fans of the Kingsman films might recognise one particular costume paying homage to their first collaboration.

Well chosen, Egerton, in his best performance to date, doesn’t just look the part but earns the tagline ‘Taron Egerton is Elton John.’ Mimicking the star’s mannerisms to a tee and his spitting image in several of the most outlandish costumes, while much of the film requires dramatic turns Egerton’s contagious sense of fun in the recreations of several well-known numbers is the cinematic equivalent in every sense of Elton leaping on a piano and baring a grin at his audience.

Jamie Bell as long-time lyrical partner Bernie Taupin (as South Park fans might fondly recall) does well; another development in what is an increasingly interesting career. Rocketman requires a villain and like Bohemian Rhapsody (the comparisons don’t stop there) casts an ex-Game of Thrones star (Richard Madden) as a questionable manager.

Bryce Dallas Howard and Steven Mackintosh are more than decent as the parents, though both are largely sounding boards for whatever is going on in Elton’s life at any given stage. Elton’s decades-long collaboration with lead guitarist Davey Johnstone, uncontroversial and unsurprisingly ill-befitting of a biopic that requires drama, like most his other lengthy stage partners are permitted a token average of about one screen grab.

Now to the music. Without changing the lyrics, and the filmmakers generally err on the side of sacrilege, there aren’t a lot of singles that squarely fit into a retelling of anyone’s life. Opting, again, like Bohemian Rhapsody, to almost always defer to numbers that appeared on one or more Greatest Hits volumes (‘Border Song’ being a notable exception), they land about half the time.

Opening with ‘The Bitch is Back’ in what is as nonsensical a creative decision as Lily James’ rendition of ‘Kissed The Teacher,’ Rocketman reaches its heights in the film’s earliest scenes with the spectacularly promising staging of ‘I Want Love,’ the only later era Elton clanger meriting inclusion. Not simply supremely endearing but sensical within proceedings, it is nearly matched by only ‘Honky Cat’ and the ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’ duet. The early addition of “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting,” if making little sense, is still spectacularly fun and serves the same purpose as Elton’s generally predictable placement of the tune in the opening stages of his shows.

The computer-generated scenery in this sequence and a couple more, amidst a film largely resonant for its strong use of colour and costuming in real life environments, regretfully wreaks of some of the more infamous deaths of cinema moments.

‘Tiny Dancer’ is shoehorned in among so many others in relation to a fleeting character simply because it ‘had to’ be there, neglecting more appropriate scores from the likes of ‘Tumbleweed Connection,’ ‘Captain Fantastic’ and of all things Elton’s debut studio album ‘Empty Sky.’ Opting to portray ‘Crocodile Rock’ as Elton introduces himself to an American audience, when every pair of shoes slowly rise off the ground in Rocketman’s most utilised promotional image, Fletcher strikes the right blend between that hyperrealist and euphoric, recreating what will be intrinsic to those sitting in the 22nd row the world over.

Fletcher showing a consummate, distinctive filmmaking flair in only two other scenes; the rip-roaring rendition of ‘Pinball Wizard’ to whirling camera-work, editing and effects thrillingly matching the song’s pace. It is otherwise only at the very end, in a heartfelt recreation of one of Elton’s most famous video clips, that all involved not only shine their brightest but look like they’re having the fun everyone should have handed the unique prospects of an Elton biopic. Why filmmakers always leave these sorts of sequences to the end and never take these leaps throughout I’ll never know.  

Rocketman is regrettably at it’s worst in the staging of the titular number, taking place within a swimming pool as Elton sings with his childhood self. Groundless and egregiously indiscernible in what is otherwise a straightforward if oft-lightly surrealist narrative, the sequence soon heedlessly morphs into a stadium scene with an all too literal interpretation of the lyrics. Doing so for a standalone visual gag that takes us stars away from what long since established itself as a temperately fantastical flick, it’s like is confusedly never repeated.

Too taking place on the heels of Elton’s most overrated number ‘Bennie and the Jets,’ the whole chapter is an aberration in what is still a more hit than miss musical.

Far above and beyond this, the entire number revolves around one of the darkest chapters in Elton’s life and in the film’s most reckless advent does not reckon with the sensitivity of what it is depicting. Curiously, the decision was not made to utilise ‘Someone Saved My Life Tonight’ at this juncture, the stated, apparent intent of the song (among other unused Elton numbers) being better reflective of the subject the filmmakers here chose to explore. Seeking to so quickly (as the flick often does) move to the next greatest hit, given the creatives sought to pursue this confronting avenue so blatantly it was a poor mistake not to address it requisitely or properly account for its aftermath even if it meant sacrificing one or more of the myriad other strands.

For chapters in Elton’s life come and go; the crew seemingly intent on telling as much as possible. His first marital relationship and wedding (which actually took place in Sydney) are confined to mere minutes, while other hugely significant moments elapse in as little time. Making the choice to confine the narrative to the first stages of Elton’s career and never travelling down the likes of ‘Peachtree Road’ is not a problem in and of itself, this era proving just as interesting for Elton as any other, it’s just that the form has been done and done and done.  

Again, we return to Bohemian Rhapsody. It’s no surprise that Rocketman suffers many of the same pitfalls with Fletcher in charge here; the Director having been credited as same on the Queen biopic.

Rocketman fares better for not trying to cram the entirety of Elton’s life into two hours, yet still attempts to cover everything from it’s chosen era and there simply isn’t enough time from a narrative standpoint. The film does however manage to fit in Elton winning over a cynical record producer with a fresh style, flashing sign-heavy montages hurling us forward years in time, informative text on Elton’s achievements immediately prior to those credits rolling (interposed with the performers’ real life counterparts just to show us how well they’ve done) and, as if this wasn’t enough, the whole narrative is framed by Elton relaying his story via flashback to the dozen odd others in rehab.

Not forgetting to namecheck everyone from The Beatles to Neil Young, with a recording session thrown in with Kiki Dee for good measure as we’ve ticked off almost everyone else already, the reference to Leon Russell given ‘The Union’ is somewhat more digestible. Hitting just about every biopic cliché, though never so wincingly nor often as the treatment proffered Freddie Mercury, speaking from experience this is not a film you’d want to watch within years of catching Walk Hard.  

Elton fans, casual and most dedicated, will relish repeat watches pure and simple. If you’re not into the music, unfortunately there isn’t much in the retelling to recommend it.

Rocketman is in cinemas from May 30

[misssophiachase]

Prompt: Caroline goes viral for drunkingly covering Rockstar!Klaus’ song while at karaoke with friends, Klaus sees video and just needs to get this incredibly sexy blonde who turns his alt rock song into a sultry masterpiece to sing backup for his next album.

Nonnie! This is inspired!I adore me some Rockstar!Klaus. I always imagine the Original brothers in aband like Kings of Leon, so the title is my favourite of their songs. Hope you like itas much as I enjoyed writing it! 

Use Somebody

“Niklaus!” Klaus groaned,holding his pillow over his face in order to ignore her incessant whining fromdownstairs. He thought he’d revoked her house key a few months ago but she’dobviously made copies. Just because she was his sibling and his band’spublicist she thought it was her god given right to be able to burst into his house at anymoment.

“Nik, get your stubbornass down here!” Instead of his sister’s whiny voice, he could now hear hisbrother and fellow Originals bandmate instead. Just bloody great. He threw off the pillowin frustration and climbed out of bed, only stopping briefly to throw on a pair of discarded boxersand white t-shirt before lazily moving downstairs.  

“Well, I’m certainly nothungry for brunch now,” Rebekah drawled pushing away the take-out coffee andmuffin from her vantage point at the kitchen bench.  “Seriously,could you be wearing any less clothing, Niklaus?”

“And could you seriouslybe any more annoying, Rebekah,” he scoffed, swiping her coffee and taking along, needed sip. He was fairly certain he was still drunk from the nightbefore. “Anyway, you both deserve it for breaking into my house thisearly. What if I had company?”

“It’s 11:30am and also wouldn’tbe the first time I found you with unsavoury company,” Rebekah deadpanned. “And Ican’t believe I’m going to say this but even Kol managed to be up and dressedby now.”

“I hate to burst yourbubble but I haven’t technically been to sleep yet, Beks.”

“Well, at least I know whyyou smell so bad,” she huffed. 

“We’re rock stars Rebekah,it’s what we do,” Kol insisted smugly. “Now, please tell me why yousummonsed us here and I had to leave the confines of Bambi’s warm bed?” 

“Urgh,” shemuttered. “At least that explains why you smell of cheap perfume.”

“Rebekah, I’d really likeit if you could get the point sometime this century?” Klaus sighed, running hishands through his knotted locks.

“This is why I’m here,”she explained, opening her laptop and hitting play on a YouTube video.

“You got me up for someterrible, karaoke video…” Klaus trailed off, his eyes locking onto thebeautiful blonde mid-stage clad in tight, leather pants and a fitted, RollingStones t-shirt her waves cascading like liquid gold over her shoulders. 

Klaus felt his breathhitch in his throat at just how stunning but refreshingly vulnerable, at thesame time, she looked. She was swaying slightly, no doubt a little inebriated, before thefamiliar opening chords filled the background and she began to sing.

“I’ve been roaming around, always looking down at all I see.Painted faces, fill the places I can’t reach…”

Singing was anunderstatement, she was an absolute angel and her voice was breathtaking, evenfrom only a few sung lyrics. He was mesmerized, barely registering his brother’suntoward commentary about her general appearance.

Her particular choice ofsong was also messing with him, especially given it was supposedly deeper and notyour usual karaoke choice. It was something he’d written at a low point in hislife mid tour. It was about being restless and desperate to find something tobelieve in and for someone to love. Something and someone he was still yet tofind. The vulnerability in her voice teamed with those expressive blue eyes wasmessing with his usually strong resolve. 

As the final notes soundedout, Rebekah closed her laptop and looked at them expectantly. “Well?”

“She certainly is sexy,”Kol offered, helping himself to a blueberry muffin. “But not sure what that hasto do with us.” She rolled her blue eyes in Klaus’ direction in response.

“Did you see how many hitsthat video got?” She asked incredulously. “It’s gone viral over night,apparently seven million people want to watch someone else sing your song. Thisgirl has talent; in fact I think we should….” 

“Right, let’s set up ameeting then,” Klaus suggested before she could even continue with her plan. “Whereis she?”

“Austin.”

“And her managementcompany?” Klaus asked, every fiber of his being still attempting to beprofessional even if she was across the other side of the country. 

“She doesn’t have representation,” Rebekah added. “She’s a graduate college student at UT, majoring inpsychology.” Klaus was momentarily taken aback, a multitude of thoughtscluttering his head wondering if by singing that song she was psycho analyzinghim. 

“Why exactly are wewasting our time on this again?” Kol complained.

“Shut up Kol,” he growled.“Given just how long you take to do anything you might want to start packingfor Austin.” He’d left the room before he could hear any further objections.

One week later…

“Remind me why I’m in thesticks again,” Kol whined. Klaus was tempted to beat his younger brother uplike when they were younger but decided to refrain given his nerves.

Klaus Mikaelson didn’t getnervous but for some reason this mystery blonde, whom he only knew as CarolineForbes, was playing with his emotions. He’d watched her video on loop for days. Kol would say he was just checking her out physically but Klaus was interested in the raw emotions she displayed as she recited his lyrics over and over again. 

“And on that false note, you arebanned from this meeting,” Rebekah drawled. “Don’t want any law suits. As foryou Niklaus, tell her how much you want her in the next video.” Klaus had tostop himself from rolling his eyes, he didn’t know her but he was certain shehad no interest in playing some groupie in a video but decided not to tell his sister that just yet.

“Where are we meeting anyway?”

“Rainey Street,” she explained. “Its going to be low-key and I’d appreciate you check your arrogance at the door.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she scoffed. “We’ve known each other since birth so don’t try and play innocent, Niklaus.”

He was gone, albeit muttering choice words as he left.  Klaus was nervous, something he hadn’t felt in years but stilled himself on approach. 

What he wasn’t expecting was for the girl in the video to look so casual than that video but she was even more beautiful in person than he’d expected. Golden waves falling freely, pink lips, creamy complexion sans makeup and attired in jeans and a simple black Ramones t-shirt. One of his favourite bands too.

He held back, watching her intently as she studied the books laid out on the table, biting her bottom lip as she did it. Now he wasn’t quite sure what to say but let his legs do the walking. 

“You’re looking very serious, love,” he murmured, kicking himself for being so obvious. She looked up regarding him curiously with those big, blue eyes but not responding immediately.

“I’m Klaus,” he offered, his confidence slipping away under her gaze. What was happening to him, Klaus had no idea. 

“I’m studying, Klaus,” she replied. He couldn’t miss just how lovely his name sounded rolling off her tongue. “Hence the serious mood. Finals are in three weeks.”

“I wouldn’t really know,” he admitted, taking a seat opposite her. “I left school in  eleventh grade.” It was a regret he’d carried with him for years, their surprise success as a band the only thing keeping it from gnawing away at him completely. 

“Honours and degrees aren’t the be all and end all,” she said, her blue eyes capturing his across the table curiously. 

“I think that’s the diplomatic answer from the almost Doctor,” he grinned, losing himself in her glance. 

“Says the rockstar,” she smiled. “Apparently I was summonsed to this meeting, my best friend Kat threatened to disown me if I didn’t come. She was the one who took the video and posted without telling me first.”

“Ouch, love,” he chuckled. “Way to give a guy a complex.”

“I’d prefer that then to stroke that ego of yours, Mikaelson.”

“Who told you I have an ego?” He responded, defensively. When the media labelled him that way he didn’t care but staring across at this natural beauty who smelled like an intense combination of strawberries and vanilla for some reason made him want to be a better person. 

“Your sister.” He baulked, expecting her views to come from the press not his nosy sister. “I think she’s trying to save you between you and me.”

“Is that your professional opinion, Dr Forbes?” 

“I’m not a doctor yet and would prefer to keep well out of your head once I am, Mikaelson,” he could see the conflict in her eyes as she uttered it. 

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“It’s not my place to say, I barely know you,” she murmured, playing with the corner of her notebook and ignoring his gaze. 

“Fine,” he conceded. “Would you consider playing back-up on our next album instead? That rendition was breathtaking and we’d love to have you, Caroline.”

“I sing for myself, so I’m going to have to respectfully decline,” she mused. “But thank you for the offer.” She began to collect her things before his hand found hers comfortingly. 

“I understand, but can I ask you something?” She merely nodded by way of response. “Why did you choose that song?” She paused momentarily, Klaus searching her face.

“It spoke to me I suppose.” She admitted.  

“How?” He asked, the thick desperation the last of his worries in anticipation of her response. Being a rockstar didn’t guarantee you happiness and for some reason this graduate student could see right through him and it intrigued him like nothing else. 

“I’m not here to explain lyrics to the songwriter last time I checked,” she smiled cheekily. “But if you buy me a coffee I might reconsider.”

Caroline didn’t star in their next music video, she didn’t sing back-up either but turns out she stole the rockstar’s heart.  

[tyttetardis]

Miranda Does Christmas - Extra material

(Spoilers about the show…well, sorta anyway)

This might be somewhat unhelpful - I’m pretty awful at remembering stuff clearly- but here are a few notes on Miranda Does Christmas and “teasers” about stuff that didn’t make it into the finished show. Luckily most of the best stuff did, but a lot of little things and a few bigger things were unfortunately cut. 

I gotta say I’m so glad they kept in the Nigel Farage joke - I loved that! Perfect :D I was certain they wouldn’t have kept it in, so that was such a nice surprise! (On the other hand, I used my mental capacity for remembering direct quotes on this, oops)

Anyway, David talked a bit about how Christmas is a very romantic time at their house what with Georgia’s (”my wife’s”) birthday and them getting engaged on that day too.  The audience didn’t “aww” like expected with a story like this (they did with Susan’s engagement story), which was quite frustrating because I was absolutely on the verge of going big on the Aww-ing, but then no one else did and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. But it really was sweet - just imagine that adorable look on his face whenever he talks about his wife 😍 He looked so chuffed about it :D 

Miranda asked him something along the lines of whether he lets his inner Hamlet out when wearing his Christmas-cracker crown - I’m not sure what his exact response was, but I’m pretty sure it was confirmative - jokingly of course, but still!

Debating whether Die Hard is a Christmas film, begrudgingly conceding that it probably is since it does take place during Christmas. This was probably part of the quick-fire quiz - it seems a bit short. 

They showed a childhood picture of David when he was around 9, I think he said (or that might have just been with the doll - but even then it can’t be too far off) - I don’t know if it’s a known picture, but I had never seen it before. He was sitting on a couch (I think) unwrapping a gift (I cannot for the life of me remember what it was - even though he explained it! Feel like it might have been one of those chemistry or magic sets....or sth like that) or possibly having unwrapped it and holding it tight in excitement - looking up at the camera as you do when you have something far more interesting to get on with! David commented on the complete lack of Christmas decorations in their house - I don’t recall exactly what he said, but I think it was something like “How depressing is that!”. I have such a clear mental picture of this - but for some reason, my brain just won’t translate it into words.

At some point, David responded with “That’s because it hasn’t been Christmas yet” and you could sort of see his face go “oh!” and everybody pretended like nothing, but it got awkward for a tiny second haha, and then they just quickly moved on!

Miranda did a hip-hop song….about 3 times! And then they didn’t even use it! Though I’m kinda glad they didn’t show us waving about with our hands - I was so confused! But it sounded funny :) 

Oh, speaking of singing - they cut out our singalong rendition of Jingle Bells! I guess it was too good - we were quite bad at singing it awfully like she asked us to. But David looked precious meanwhile, so they should absolutely have kept it! 

The Choir also had to do their sequence 3-5 times! So while it was very good, it was a bit awkward having to seem excited about it again and again, but it was quite lovely observing David meanwhile. Tapping happily along to the music :D and singing along a bit too, even though I obviously couldn’t hear it. 

Well it was quite lovely observing him during the breaks throughout the whole thing - seeing him talk and laugh with the others without being able to hear what they talked about, him checking his phone, eating sweets, being instructed on the next scene, getting re-powdered, him sitting just quietly and waiting, his face going lax - he also promptly jumped out of his seat and went to look at the photo above the chimney, face very close to it and so giving us a lovely view of the other side of him :P

When Miranda asked if anyone knew which song was the Christmas number two David went all Hermione - immediately raising a hand in the air, lifting himself from the chair, going all “ I know” - again, I don’t remember what he said precisely, it all happened very fast. But it was quite funny that it turned out David had the wrong answer.

Regarding David not getting the Leela doll, they talked quite a bit more about it and David said his children certainly wouldn’t have to be afraid to ask for something like that ( Well, more like they wouldn't have to be afraid to wish for anything) - if that’s what they wanted they would absolutely get it! (or something to that effect ). Also, do look up the Leela doll from the 70′s :D they should have gotten him that one - then again, he probably already bought it himself :) They showed a picture on the small screen, so I couldn’t see it, but David said sth about it not being the same version he had wanted back then. 

During the reading of the Highway Rat the camera was in front of me in a way so that I could pretty much only see the top of his head, so all I had was just his crazy eyebrow acting the hell out of that piece, which was kinda fantastic! Haha but it was great to see his entire precious face

They recorded the bit with Sam Smith first because he had to leave early, so David did the entrance scene twice (It looks like it might have been the second one they used, he seems a bit loosened up, doesn’t he?), and before Miranda went to do the rap-song David and the others went out again so they could come in later again - David stood and as he walked off the stage he stretched and then looked out at us, shrugging like “I don’t know what’s going on either!”

The telly didn’t do the dancing justice at all! So much better in reality :P No cuts, and full frame! Also before the dancing, Miranda asked them if they had a personal dance-move that they used - and I cannot for the life of me remember what David said or did, I was no doubt laughing too hard, but it was definitely one of those patented David-moves. Not sure if it was him or Susan who talked about having done their dance-moves on many a clubs/nights out, but I think Glasgow came up. I feel like he did the DJ Zig-zag dance move shortly at some point too.

During the first seconds of the pre-recorded clip with Miranda, he squinted at the screen and I think I heard him quip something like “Oh I think I know that bar!” - but I didn’t even notice a bar, so I’ve no idea!

When they sat down to play the car-race game David looked adorably confused and went all “Which one am I?!” - and of course winning the first round anyway. Someone said sth about David being a champion at the game, not sure who, but then Susan upped her game and went all “you’re gonna lose”! They certainly got a bit more into it than it appears on the screen. 

At the beginning of the show, the prompt screen read “Miranda Does Christmas. Not sexually”  - she didn’t use it a first, but it was mentioned later on, and David said she should’ve just called the show that. No explanation.

Concerning planning Christmas dinner with military-precision he said he makes a time schedule and joked about having put aside scheduled time for family fun “15 minutes, go!”. They cut this talk off quite abruptly, such a shame, as it was also very funny.  

It was very lovely the way he hurried over to relieve the choir singer of the stuff he had given her during the “date” immediately after the scene was done. Or, maybe it was right after he was given something to clean his hands with, he looked like he didn’t know what to do with them, and so relieved at being given a cleaning cloth. Either way, it was cute how he bounced over there taking it back. 

The talk about that family log of Susan’s went on quite a bit longer - David was so confused by it and then very interested in learning more! He definitely commented a lot more on the subject than it appears :) I don’t remember the details, but I remember laughing a lot! 

During the breaks, annoyingly, some people in the audience kept (okay maybe it was only like 2-4 times/people) asking if they could get a hug from David, and the audience entertainer then went “David’s pretending he didn’t hear, but he totally heard” which was kinda funny ‘cause that’s exactly what David looked liked - poor guy!

I really hope they release an extended version of this, because I feel like there’s so much missing! Even if it’s just little things - but there was a lot of lovely talking. You almost get whiplash watching the edited version, it’s so rapid. We were there for about 3 hours, so even with the breaks and the repetitions, that still leaves quite a lot of time unaccounted for in this 45-minute show! 

She didn’ ask him about his favourite Christmas song, so, unfortunately, that wasn’t just cut - would have been nice. She also didn’t ask him about a tradition like she did the others - or do the which-of-these-is the-correct-answer...