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the-annotated-antichrist · 1 year

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Act III, Track 03 - Forgive me

Song links: Spotify - YT Music - Apple - Tidal

This is another track with a lot of dialogue, in which big things happen. It is also almost 10 minutes long. If you're looking for opera and drama, look no further. Let's begin...

Johanna, Agnes and Mare have infiltrated Seth's residence. In a secluded chamber, Johanna sits gazing at the holy dagger in front of her. She prepares to fulfill her mission and kill the Antichrist while her friends walk around the candle-lit room.

[Johanna:] In thy grace... [Johanna & Agnes:] ...turn to me and bless the soul of this faithful child None more divine than thee our lord [Johanna:] Lead me on to be strong - holy mission And guide my hand Amen

Seth enters the room. This in itself is significant. He could send his guards to deal with them. Three trespassing outlaws with one dagger probably wouldn't be a big problem for them. Yet Seth appears in person, alone, and does not call for back-up.

[Seth:] Now face thy foe! [Agnes:] Our lord has brought you here [Seth:] I heed no call, none but my own [Agnes:] To be boastful suits no mortal man

Seth tauntingly tempts Johanna, who is not impressed:

[Seth:] Join the night supreme I will be your guiding star I will set you free [Johanna:] Into the darkness forever you must go

Suddenly Helena comes in, urging reconciliation. As you may remember, she overheard Johanna and her friends talking about how only Johanna's dagger would be able to kill the Antichrist, so she knows why they are here.

[Helena:] Still the dawn may rise and shine [Seth:] Out of the darkness, my love I knew that you would come [Agnes:] Join with us Join with God [Helena:] It must not end, not like this If we conjoin as one

It is far too late for that of course. Seth and Johanna will not, cannot make peace. Johanna doesn't comment on her sister's appearance at all and instead likens Seth to a fallen angel again.

[Seth:] Join the night supreme I will be your guiding star I will set you free [Johanna:] Into the darkness forever you must go Fallen you are, fallen from the heavens to our world Fallen you are 'til the end of our time and beyond

As the music becomes more and more tense, Helena says:

[Helena:] Sister, O blood of mine Hand me the dagger Hand me the answer Hand me the voice of God

Reluctantly, Johanna gives Helena the dagger. At this point, I don't exactly know how lyrics and action go together. With a bang, the music comes to a complete stop and based on the scene description, I'm pretty sure it is here that Helena puts the dagger against Seth's chest. Into near-complete silence, Seth sings:

[Seth:] Come to me, to the fallen, my love

Seth calls himself "the fallen" and echoes the way Johanna (above) as well as Professor Pauli and the Pope (in Cursed be the Fallen) speak about him in the moment in which the one person whose affection he was certain of seems to take the side of his enemies. It will be interesting to see, if and when BA is staged, whether the actor who plays him says this sentence in an evil, seductive way or if he sounds like he's pleading with Helena. Thomas' rendition sounds ambiguous to me.

Helena answers sadly:

[Helena:] Deep down somewhere, in me, I knew what I had to do

The music starts again, both Seth and his enemies are calling to Helena, who still has the dagger to her husband's chest. Seth is calling for her to take his side, the women urge her to kill him.

[Seth:] Come to me, to the fallen, my love [Helena:] My love Forgive me [Johanna & Agnes:] Hear the whisper within you, sister From God and may peace come to your heart

Helena's words here are nearly inaudible, since the music and the urging of the other characters is so much louder. A tense instrumental part follows in which Helena makes her choice. With both sides pressuring her, she cannot decide between her loyalty to Seth and to Johanna. She turns the dagger around and plunges it into her own chest. All rush to her side, their enmity forgotten for the moment.

[Johanna, Mare, Agnes & Seth:] In the cloak of night, fallen you are Thou shall rise again Enter the void

The music slowly becomes calmer as Agnes speaks to the dying Helena and prays over her in her beautiful dark voice:

[Agnes:] In stillness keep eyes of gold your name Night birds take flight and sing [Johanna, Mare & Seth:] In the cloak of night, fallen you are Thou shall rise again, enter the void [Agnes & Seth:] Bless you Into moonlight And the temple you shall now meet in turmoil The soul will flow and shine

Afterwards, Seth, with a heavy heart, returns the dagger that is fated to kill him to Johanna. I don't know if he does this to imply that Helena's blood is on her hands, if he isn't thinking clearly or if he is simply too shocked and crushed to care about anything, even his own survival.

[Seth:] Give me your hand, receive this tool For it belongs to you

He picks up Helena's corpse and leaves the room with her as a choir of angels sings.

[Choir of angels:] Float, float with time And the night soon shall see you, greet you, tell you... of dawn...

With this, the song ends. I still get goosebumps from it every time I listen to it, at least if I pay attention to what is happening in it. I have some things to say about it, but I think I'll put them into the next post, when Seth mourns Helena and we have perhaps somewhat recovered from this scene...

#johanna orsini #helena orsini #seth thanos #tracks #act 3 #mare aravena #agnes azarova #symphonic metal #therion #taaposts #opera #metal #musical #musicals

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ohblackdiamond · 4 years

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little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 12 of 29)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 part 20 part 21 part 22 part 23 part 24 part 25 part 26 part 27 part 28 part 29 Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Ace and Peter discuss Paul’s crisis, with and without him, and Paul gives Gene some lessons.

Peter and Ace stuck around for a couple hours. Long enough that Paul heated up the leftover pizza for them, and Gene ended up getting two more delivered, while the forgotten remains of both their Dairy Queen milkshakes just melted in Paul’s car. Paul confessed to nearly everything, from when Gene had first come over to the call to Steve Rubell’s secretary.

Peter had been pretty loath to talk about witchcraft and ways to alleviate the curse at any real length. It seemed to make him as queasy as it did Gene. Ace, on the other hand, perused Paul’s occult books for awhile, and offered to scour some old hippie contacts and see if they still knew any witches.

“Or Suzie. But she would’ve told you herself if she knew anyone good.” Ace had shrugged, devouring another slice of pizza. “Thing is… thing is, you’re better off going to the source. You just don’t wanna mess with it yourself if you don’t have to. You got really fucked up. You don’t wanna risk making it any worse, getting someone else to try to fix it.”

“You think someone might turn me into a frog on accident?”

Ace had laughed.

“We could get you a cute costume that way. What d’you think, Geno?”

“We could get him a cute costume now.”

“Bet you already have.”

Paul’s face went red. Ace winked.

“But… really, thing is, this kind of shit isn’t your basic curse.”

“I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

“Y’know, bad luck for a couple months, bad acne, psoriasis, that kinda curse.” Ace ran a thumb across his own pockmarked cheek, then added, unnecessarily, “I’ve had this since I landed on Earth, it ain’t a curse—but that’s about all most witches could’ve done to you.”

“Anybody ever do anything to you, Ace?” Paul asked. It was a pretty fair question, Gene felt like. Ace used to run with a weird crowd. Still did. But Ace shook his head.

“Nah. Well, Suzie told me KISS’d never get a number-one single here. But that was more of a prediction—”

“She’s wrong.” Gene dismissed her out of hand. Across from him, sitting on the coffee table, Peter nodded in agreement. Ace shrugged.

“What I mean is, it could take awhile to fix, and that’s if she wants to fix it.”

“Ace, we’re not canceling the tour.”

“’M not saying cancel.” Ace gnawed heavily on his lip. Gene could tell he was just about to ask Paul for a beer. “But how far back do you think we could push it? Couple months?”

“We couldn’t push it back any without Bill wanting a reason why,” Gene said flatly.

“So let’s give him a reason why.” Ace exhaled. “I’ll… y’know, I never did have a big honeymoon with Jeanette. I could tell him I wanted three weeks for that.”

“That’s only three weeks—”

“Yeah, but…” Ace reached for the Tab Peter had been drinking out of, finishing it off with a gulp. “It’s about buying time. We could keep on finding excuses if we had to.”

“I don’t want you to have to,” Paul said. “I don’t want to fuck things up for everybody.”

The silence lingered for several moments. No one said a word to argue his point. Paul’s gaze lowered to one of the cardboard pizza boxes, and, next to it, the box of Gene’s Studio 54 clothes. Finally, Peter spoke.

“You can’t help it, Paulie. We’re gonna do what we can.” He rubbed his arm. “Could probably get my doctor to say I’ve gotta take off another month if I have to.”

“Don’t say anything yet.”

“I won’t. We won’t.” Peter hesitated. “Hey, you want us coming to 54 with you tonight?”

Ace perked up.

“That’d help. Four guys looking for the same girl. One of us could be in the basement, one in the VIP lounge upstairs—”

“You’d just be fucking in the basement,” Paul accused dryly.

“It’s good for running into people. Groupies all over there. Besides, Steve’s bunch is just as loaded as he is. They may not remember what girl you wanted.”

Ace had a point. Gene mulled it over, glancing at Paul, who nodded, before he answered.

“Yeah, okay. But not all in the same limo.”

“Aw, c’mon! Why not?”

“It’d attract too much attention. Everyone would be wondering where Paul was.”

“Me and Pete’ll go together. We’ll get there later so it’s not as obvious.” Ace took another slice of pizza. “Remind me again, yeah? Brown hair, freckles, short?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Carol… Carol Johnson?”

“Jensen.”

“Gotcha.” Ace shook his head. “God, Paulie, you gotta start making photo albums like Gene. You get better descriptions outta those police sketch artists.”

The rest of the afternoon was placid enough. Paul and Gene lazed around after Ace and Peter left. Gene turned on the T.V. and they watched The Edge of Night (how the hell that soap was still on, Gene didn’t know), Paul flopping next to him with his legs hanging over the couch. There was something comfortable about it. Paul only got up once the show’s credits streamed down the screen, turning it off.

“You don’t want to watch the news?”

“No. We’d still have half an hour. Besides, I wanted to show you something. C’mon.”

Gene followed him out of the living room, down the stairs to the den. He’d been there before, sure, but Paul had never really given him a house tour. KISS’ gold records hung from the wood-paneled walls, along with an assortment of posters and memorabilia from their earlier tours. All stuff Gene had at home himself—if anything, Gene had a lot more of it—but Paul didn’t acknowledge it, heading for three bookshelves packed with records.

“Back when I was in high school,” he said, “I used to try to buy one album every couple of weeks. I’d have to get the cut-outs.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So once we got big, I decided I’d get every record I ever wanted.” Paul grinned a little ruefully. “But I didn’t really think it through, so this is what I ended up with.”

“Uh-huh.” Gene tugged out a copy of Alvin and the Chipmunks’ “Witch Doctor.” “I think that goes without saying.”

“C’mon, I was a kid when that came out.”

“Do you have ‘Flying Purple People Eater,’ too?”

“Don’t laugh, I might.” Paul started thumbing through the shelves. Gene almost told him not to go looking for it, but instead of the Sheb Wooley single, Paul took out a copy of Rod Stewart’s latest offering, last year’s A Night on the Town. Gene looked at it quizzically.

“What’s this for?”

“Good luck.” Paul slid the record out of its sleeve and handed it to Gene. “Put it on.”

Gene put it on. The vinyl crackled appreciably. Last year’s hit on that first track. Rod Stewart could pair filthy lyrics with a number-one hit, while KISS was stuck going the clean ballad route just to hit the top ten.

“‘Tonight’s the Night’?” Oh. That made sense. Well, it made some sense. Gene was getting the impression Paul might not have thought his selection through, as Rod started to gravel-voice his way into getting a virgin into bed. “Hoping for a pretty exciting evening, aren’t you?”

“Not—Gene, I meant we’d find the girl.” Paul tapped Gene’s shoulder with the album jacket. “It’s positive thinking. Norman Vincent Peale and all that.”

Gene grinned.

“Pretty raunchy. I thought you’d pick a cleaner pick-me-up.”

“Whatever, I like it.” Paul propped the jacket against the record player. His face was faintly flushed. “The whole album’s pretty good.”

“I know. I have it.” Gene listened to the saxophone’s croon before cutting in again. “You really just wanted me to see your record collection?”

“No. Not exactly.” Paul shifted. “Look, I know you don’t really go to the discos much.”

“So? Paul, I don’t mind doing it for you.”

“Yeah, but… shit, I don’t know. You got bored last night.”

“I didn’t get bored. I had a pretty good view.”

Paul rolled his eyes.

“There’s not a lot to do at 54 besides get wasted and dance. And neither of us is going to get wasted.”

That was true of any club, and most of why he didn’t go. He could get laid just as easily in his own neighborhood, without the hassle of dressing up and schmoozing.

“It’s fine. Maybe I’ll bring a book.”

“Gene.” Paul had his tongue peeking slightly past his teeth. Nervous. “I wanna teach you to dance.”

“What for?”

“So you’ll have something to do. That way, we don’t look like creeps waiting around.” The first track was edging towards the halfway point. Paul took his hand. “What do you say?”

“Don’t you want something a little faster?”

“No. This is good.” Paul took Gene’s other arm, positioning his hand on his shoulder. “You can dance to anything, if you’ve got rhythm.”

“You’re leading.”

“Damn right.” Paul had his other hand on his waist already, was urging him forward with that hand. Gene took an obedient, offbeat step, and Paul sighed but stepped back in time with Gene instead of with the beat. A couple more steps and Paul had them back on track again, although Gene felt about as awkward as he had during senior prom ten years prior. “It’s mirroring, mostly. Mirroring and—getting a feel for your partner, what they can do.”

“A feel, huh?”

“Getting a feel, not copping one.” Paul pursed his lips in consideration. “Don’t watch your feet so much. Keep it up here.”

“When did you start dancing?”

“I dunno. I always wanted to.” He was starting to get more complicated than the sort of forward-back motion that was all Gene could readily accomplish. Shifting more than his feet around. Had he been doing that from the beginning? Paul’s grip on him was more relaxed than the reverse, that much was definite. “Just one of those stupid things. I used to watch all those variety shows when I was a kid, and think, ‘hey, I could do that.’ Dance, sing… puppeteer…” Paul snorted, and dropped his arm from Gene’s waist. Gene almost let go entirely, but then Paul squeezed his hand, raising it up. Gene gave him a blank look in return, before realizing, several beats too late, that Paul had been trying to get him into a spin.

“Puppeteer?”

“Howdy Doody’s a—formative influence—”

“Uh-huh.” The mildly disappointed expression on Paul’s face made him a little concerned, and he added, “Try that again, I wasn’t ready.”

Paul lifted his arm again. Gene made the spin, his movements stilted, feeling a bit stupid for all of it until he saw Paul start to grin.

“Maybe we should try it like this.”

“Like what?”

Rod had just about made it with the girl, the moaned-out French at the end of the track something Gene could only guess at. Paul just took him by both hands.

“A little less formal, right? Hang on.” Paul let go, hurrying back to the record player. Gene watched him take the vinyl off and stuff it back into the sleeve and jacket, before rummaging around the shelves again. He pulled out another record, though this time he didn’t show Gene the jacket before putting it on. Not that it mattered. Gene recognized the harmonies anyway, well before Paul made his way back to where he was standing. Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young’s Deja Vu.

“Figured we could go way back.” Paul took his hands again as the record played, his steps faster, more energetic. Gene didn’t really think the band had meant for anyone to dance to their stuff. He kept up awkwardly at first, but something about how enthusiastic Paul was, how much he put into every move, how he tried to fit the steps to the songs, buoyed him. His curls would bounce a bit depending on the tempo. It was almost cute to watch. Almost infectious. Gene hesitated before trying to get Paul into a turn himself, getting a gratified look and an eager spin in return. He was starting to get it, a bit, the way just a shift or a squeeze of the hand was enough of a signal of where to turn or where he was headed. Like that sense he’d get, that sense they’d all get, if one of the guys was having an off night and they needed to cover during a concert. It was warm, intuitive.

Paul was breathing a little heavily by the time they’d gone through the first few tracks, hands sweaty. Gene tried to get him into one more spin as the record buzzed. He caught Paul’s shoulder with his free hand while he was halfway through, his back towards Gene’s. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Paul stopped there, turning to look at Gene, questioning.

“Something wrong?”

“No. I’m fine.” Gene shifted forward—a bad idea; they’d been closer than he realized, and now he was up against him. The melancholic harmonies of “Country Girl” were starting to swell. Gene pursed his suddenly dry lips, feeling stupid, no, feeling absolutely moronic, as he let go of Paul’s hand. “I—I think we better get ready.”

Paul’s expression drooped only for a moment, like the hesitant flicker of lights just before a power outage. His hand went to his side.

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Lemme get the record.” He took a step, Gene’s hold on his shoulder slackening to nothing, Gene’s hand faltering down to his own side, and walked over to retrieve the record, the moment fading away before he even lifted the needle.

A few hours later, Peter and Ace were in a limo, grousing. They’d gotten ready for Studio 54 earlier than they’d meant to from sheer antsiness, and now they were reduced to making the driver get them fast food they didn’t even want to kill time.

Well, Peter didn’t want it, but he was pretty sure Ace would eat his share for him. He was also sure it wasn’t quite enough of a delaying tactic to keep him and Ace from arriving right around when Paul and Gene did, but Ace reassured him he could keep that from happening. Peter sighed, glancing out the window to make sure the driver wasn’t on his way out of the restaurant yet, before speaking again.

“What do you think about it?”

Ace raised his head slightly at the question. He had brought a deck of cards and was shuffling them as they waited. Sometimes he’d lift the cards up into a sloppy arc as he riffled through them. He’d been fairly quiet, no real goofing off, not even any drinking, since they’d doubled back to Peter’s, gotten ready for the evening, and scrounged up the limo. Two nights in a row at 54 might’ve been murder on a normal human being, but in his less-sober moments, Peter could convince himself he’d spent the last four years with Jendell’s most questionable export.

“What do I think about what, Pete?”

“What we’re gonna do about Paul.”

“Nothing to do about Paul. Either he gets back to normal or he doesn’t.”

“I meant the band.” None of them had really wanted to bring it up. Ace had only barely alluded to it when he’d offered to delay the tour with a honeymoon. “If we don’t find that girl, or Paul doesn’t get back to normal, what’s going to happen to the band?”

“You know what’s going to happen.” Ace sounded more quietly cynical than he had in a long time. “We all know what’s going to happen.”

“I’m not kicking Paul out of his own fucking band.”

“I’m not, either. And Gene’d rather get a tongue reduction than hurt Paul like that.” Ace shifted, kicking his heels up to the glass partition between them and the driver, while he kept toying with the deck in his hands. “We’ll all just have to pack it up. If he doesn’t get fixed, KISS is gone.”

Pack it up. The thought felt like the gum beneath a desk at school. Peter didn’t like thinking about the options. They could all try solo acts—he felt like he had a better shot than the others, given “Beth”… or join up in some other band, but it felt… dirty. It wasn’t like Paul had gotten on drugs or turned into a completely insufferable asshole or blown out his voice. He’d just had something shitty happen to him that they couldn’t—

“Do you think Bill could spin it? Let’s say… let’s say we don’t tell him everything.” Peter was trying to think. “Let’s say Paul’s fucked off, but hey, we found a replacement that kinda looks like him. A real pretty girl. We got a whole new market. Chicks don’t ever front rock bands—”

“Petey, we couldn’t keep it up.” Ace gnawed his lip. “Bill’d still wanna know who this girl was. Even if Paul could fool him, we’d still get blown out of the water the minute people started asking questions. We’d need IDs, a passport…”

“We could get fakes made.”

“Then what?” Ace shook his head. “Paul’d be living like that guy in The Fugitive. Worse. Having to pretend he really was some random chick in front of the whole damn world… I don’t wanna shoot you down, man, but we’re sunk.”

Peter groaned.

“KISS is sunk and Gene gets a girlfriend. Fucking terrible trade-off.”

“Poor Geno.” Ace laughed. “He might figure it’s worth it, you think?”

“Nah. Gene likes money more than he likes getting laid.” Peter swallowed. “You think they’ve fucked yet?”

“C’mon, Paulie’s a lady,” Ace managed, before bursting into those weird, high giggles again. “He won’t give it up that quick. How long did it take you to warm him up to it?”

“Not too long.”

Ace held the deck up. Peter shook his head. Shrugging, Ace started trying to cut the deck with one hand, and flip the halves over with his thumb. He only succeeded in spilling most of the deck onto the floorboard and seats. Peter reached over, obediently helping him gather up the cards and handing them back over. Ace winked, taking the stack.

“What’s on your mind, anyway, Cat?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” Ace said it lightly. “You’re not really worried about whether Gene’s made it with him or not.”

“God, no.” The thought was more disturbing than it needed to be. “It’s just that I should’ve figured it out from the start.” Peter let out an irritated breath. “Gene only saw him once and figured it out. It took me three times. Paul had to tell me before I—"

“Hey, you got him, that’s the important thing.”

“Yeah, but… he wasn’t good at pretending the first time. He called me Pete. And the second time, he kept trying to tell me—”

“Pete, c’mon, you weren’t expecting him to look like that—”

“Makes me think I don’t really know him.”

Ace looked at him almost sadly. He’d stopped fiddling with the deck of cards, setting them on his thigh.

“You know him better than you think.”

“You think so?”

“Positive.” Ace’s head jerked up suddenly. Peter’s gaze followed his, and he saw the beleaguered limo driver heading out of the restaurant, with two sackfuls of barbeque sandwiches, fries, and a couple of sodas. Ace put an unnecessary finger to his lips as the driver opened their door and handed over the sacks. “Hey, man, thanks. Didja get yourself anything?”

“I shouldn’t eat on the job.”

“C’mon, I used to drive cabs, I’d eat in there all the time.” Ace cackled, digging awkwardly in his back pocket. “Get some food if you want. Then come back in here. We’ll play some poker before you take us over.”

“You’re not worried about the time?”

“Nah. I got the time if you got the money.” He grinned. “Hey, hey, Petey’ll spot you, right?”

“I ain’t spotting anyone.”

“Then the best hand gets… aw, hell, I dunno. You beat us three times in a row and we’ll bring you into the disco, you dig?”

As the driver sidled into the back of the limo, Peter scooted over to give him room. Five minutes later, barbeque sandwich in one hand, a straight in the other, Peter decided they were going to be late after all.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley #ace frehley #peter criss

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melancholy-joj · 5 years

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She took me half the way there - P.M

Summary: the reader and paul get caught by john, her brother, doing things that ‘just friends’ don’t do

Pairing: Paul McCartney x reader

Warnings: Sexual content, oral (male receiving), denied orgasm, John walking in on the two in action

Words: 900+

a/n: thoughts and feedback are greatly appreciated, my loves :)

“What if- What if we get caught?” “We won’t get caught, darling, I promise you.”

Constant reassurance and roaming hands were all it took for y/n to give in, Paul’s pretty eyes on her body and puckered lips on her neck could win her over any day. It wasn’t hard in the slightest.

He trailed his lips down the length of her neck, arms desperately finding her waist just to pull her into his lap. She gasped, feeling his hard erection against her bottom, a wave of pride and a small smirk rushing over her, because she knew she did that, it was all her fault.

“Please, Pauly,” She batted her eyelashes, looking up at him with her big, innocent-looking eyes. She knew this would get him all riled up, wanting to fuck her fast and extremely fucking hard. It’s how the both of them liked it. However, when she talked like that, when she put on her innocent act, all he wanted was for her to suck him off till her jaw hurt like hell.

“You gonna make me feel good, doll?” He stroked the side of her cheek softly with his knuckles, lips turning up into a smirk as she nodded eagerly, knowing just how to please him in that moment.

Crawling off of his lap, she sunk to the floor, slapping his hands away as he attempted at unbuckling his belt. That was her job.

This wasn’t exactly the norm for either of them, the two were dating, though they hadn’t really gone as far as the occasional makeout session. Teasing touches and flirty remarks were usually shared between them, though both never really had the guts to do anything about the sexual tension that had built itself between them for god knows how long.

It had started off with a kiss, a kiss that brought butterflies to their stomach, a kiss that they couldn’t bring themselves to end. And it led them to this, to y/n on her knees in front of Paul with his underwear around his ankles and his cock down her throat.

They wouldn’t have had a care in the world if anyone saw them, unless it was her brother. John. All throughout her life, her brother had always been so protective of y/n, always telling the boys to lay off, and if they didn’t, he’d most likely kill them. It was all fun and games, at least that’s what everyone thought. Though, here she was, with her boyfriend Paul, her hand grasped around his length, while his were in her hair, guiding her as she bobbed her head to the rhythm of his upward thrusts.

Her tongue trailed the prominent vein that travelled along the length of his cock, earning a rather throaty moan from Paul in response.

“Oh, princess, I’m gonna cum in that pretty little mouth of yours,” she hummed against him seductively, looking up at him through her lashes, but before he had the chance to reach his high like the both of them had wanted for god knows how long, the last person they’d ever want to see right then had trudged through the door.

Oblivious to what was going on just metres away from him, he called out for their names, wondering just where they had gotten off to since he had left.

“Y/n! Where are yo- what the fuck!” His eyes widened at the scene in front of him, before realising how disgusting it actually was to him, covering his eyes from being so repulsed, but also from having the dignity to save themselves the embarrassment. Though that was kind of useless.

“Paul, I swear to god, if you don’t get your dick out of my sisters mouth I will kick you out of the band,” he scrambled to get up, pushing y/n away from his member, still standing up right, still wanting to cum so bad. He cursed John in his head, how could he leave him with blue balls? Though, he did understand that it was his sister they were talking about. He tucked himself back into his slacks, shoving his hands over his crotch, not wanting his band mate to see his still obvious erection that y/n had managed to cause.

“And for god sake, y/n. Sort yourself out,” he motioned towards her disheveled state, some of Paul’s pre-cum dribbling down her chin, something she desperately tried to get rid of with the back of her hand.

The two had convinced him to let them stay together while the others went out, the three oblivious to what was going on behind their backs. They hadn’t a clue that they were dating. How could they? They were always so discreet.

John’s voice was rather calm, though they could see the fire behind his eyes as he spoke.

“Y/n, you’re grounded, go to your room,” “but-” “What did I just say?” She huffed, kicking the carpet with her bare feet before plodding up the staircase. She knew better than to argue with him, especially in his state.

“Paul, I love you, but if you ever think of touching my sister ever again, I will fucking kill you,” he muttered, “you understand me?”

Paul looked at his hands, fiddling with his fingers bashfully. “I understand,” he squeaked, not daring to look into his burning eyes. “I didn’t hear you,” he mocked, urging him to say it again, just that little bit louder, all for his own satisfaction. “I understand,” he spoke, voice still wavering, though he wasn’t sure whether it was from his denied orgasm or the fright his friend inflicted upon him.

“And don’t think I’m not gonna tell the others about this,” he shook his head whilst walking out of the room, making his way up the stairs towards y/n’s designated bedroom. “Fucking asshole.”

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ladyshandioftheendless · 5 years

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~KISS AU writings 3~

Hope you all enjoy a cute, flustered Foxy!

~Shandi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~COFFEE SHOP AU Part 2~

Featured Pairing: Ace Frehley/Eric Carr

Special Guest: Paul Stanley

Summary: Eric goes to Ace’s first performance..and meets his beautiful stage partner. Misunderstandings ensue~ (told from Eric’s POV)

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I get a call from Ace while I’m cleaning up the shop.

His excitement is so cute that I can’t help but smile. “I’m gettin’ up on stage tonight, Curly!” I can practically hear him jumping up and down. “You’ll come won’tcha? If I see you in the audience maybe I won’t choke!” I laugh. “Of course I will! Give me about an hour? I’m almost done cleaning up then I have to go back to my place to change. I’ll make sure I sit up front~” I blushed as I hear Ace kissing the receiver. “Thanks a lot, babe~ Gotta go! I’ll seeya at 9!” I hang up and sigh. I’m definitely not as nervous as he is right now but I’m pretty close. Why am I sitting down?! I have to finish up here so I can go home and get ready! Once I get home I take a quick shower and go through my dresser. The club Ace is playing at is a lounge as well so..somewhat fancy dress is required. I take out one of my trusty black button up shirts, pull on some black jeans and finish off with an orange vest. I’ve always loved the way orange and black look on me. They just seem to be my colors~ I look at my watch. 8:25. Thankfully I’ve got enough time to get there.

My stomach sinks once I see the club entrance. There is a line wrapped around the block. Great. I’ll never get inside in time! I go up to ask the guys at the door what the wait is like and one of them looks at me as if he knows me from somewhere. I look back at him confused. I would remember if somebody as big as him came into my shop. “Your name Eric?” he asks gruffly, startling me. “Um..yes..?” He places a huge hand on my back and guides me through the doors. “Ace said he’s expectin’ you so c’mon. Show’s startin’ soon.” I can’t believe my luck! Ace just starting working here and he’s already charming the staff. I shouldn’t be surprised. The guy could charm a rock~

I find a seat near the stage and settle in. The lights started to dim as soon as I sit down. Looks like I got in just under the wire! A purple spotlight swept the stage then settled on the microphone stand. I see someone walk out but..that doesn’t look like Ace. Once he comes into the light the audience is dazzled by his appearance..and I don’t blame them. He’s perfect..with long, thick curly hair that went slightly past his shoulders, elegantly curved eyebrows and..dare I say it..the prettiest fullest lips I’ve ever seen on a man. Is he..wearing lipstick? I can’t really tell because of the color of the light but if he is it suits him. He’s wearing a rhinestone studded collar, a black and silver sequined vest and suit jacket with tails, its sleeves and lapels also covered in rhinestones. There are rhinestone decorated stars lining his pants and a white lace garter around his left thigh, all leading down to black platform heeled boots decorated with silver chains. Even in the dim light he’s glittering. He’s only come out and everyone is already applauding. That’s…some stage presence..

The singer smiles and blows kisses to the audience. “Thank you, all you wonderful people~” he says, taking the microphone from its stand. “It means so much that you all came out to see me tonight..as well as the newest member of my band~ Let’s welcome our new lead guitarist, Ace Frehley!!” I clap as loudly as I can when Ace comes out, waving to the crowd with a big grin on his face. He sees me and winks at me, mouthing ‘thanks, Curly’ before picking up his guitar. I think he’s going to be okay~ The band starts to play a soft melody as the singer holds the microphone close. They all sound as if they’d been playing together for years.

Though I know that you are sleepin’..girl, there’s somethin’ I must say Though the road may wind my love will find the way Many the miles have come between us..and the days, they come and go Still with all we feel it never really shows

Hold me, touch me, and think of me when we’re apart Hold me, baby won’t you touch me And think of me here in the night And you know it’ll be alright

I don’t have words to describe how amazing they are. And what a voice that singer has! Clearly it was made to sing ballads. He sways to the melody with his eyes closed, and I can see various people in the audience swaying right along with him. There are even some women crying!

Though the time apart seems endless all my thoughts remain with you I believe one day we’ll make our dreams come true

Our goodbyes go on forever..and with all that we may say Till tomorrow comes we’ll dream of yesterday

Hold me, baby won’t you touch me, and think of me when we’re apart Hold me, baby won’t you touch me And think of me here in the night And you know it’ll be alright

I didn’t expect the bridge to be so late but it worked perfectly for this song. A blue spotlight fell onto Ace as he stepped forward beside the singer. The way he played that guitar..it just made my heart absolutely melt. He’s poetry in motion..a work of art. I can’t help but cry myself. When the song ended we all stood up to applaud and cheer. A standing ovation. After a performance like that it was well deserved. The lights brighten again as the band gathers at the front of the stage and take their bows. The singer goes to Ace and presents him to the crowd. “Isn’t he wonderful?! Ace Frehley, everyone!!” My heart just about sinks down into the pit of my stomach when he gives Ace a big, long kiss. Right on his lips. In front of everyone.

Ace asked me to wait backstage for him. I don’t know why I still decide to do it after what I saw. I’m nervous about even facing him..but I want an explanation! I hear voices..then I see Ace turn the corner with that singer practically glued to his side, just laughing and joking away. Are you kidding me? I’m upset. I’m angry. I just want to turn away and leave..but Ace has already seen me. “Hey Curly!” he shouts, waving at me. I wave half heartedly in return. The need to not be here is pretty overwhelming right now. Ace comes closer in an attempt to kiss me but I turn my head and his lips kiss my cheek instead. The singer sees the look on my face and quirks an eyebrow. “Is this the guy you told me about Acey~?” he asks.

Acey? They’re already using cute nicknames?

“Yeah!” Ace says, ruffling my hair. “This’s Eric but I like to call ‘im Curly. You can see why~ Curly, this’s is the club’s number one songbird Paul Stanley~ Ain’t he beautiful~?” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Yes..I..enjoyed your performance. That song was lovely.” Paul beamed. “Why thank you..how kind of you to say~ I wrote it myself~” Ace let out a cackling laugh and smacked Paul on the shoulder. “The king of modesty aren’tcha Paulie~?”

PAULIE?

My eyes are darting around looking for the closest exit so I can make a quick getaway. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. They’re bantering back and forth, pretty much forgetting I exist. Ace is laughing. Paul can’t keep his damn hands to himself. That’s the last straw.

“I have to go..” And I bolt, not even caring if they heard me or not.

To Be Continued!!

#Shandi's drabbles #KISS AU writings #Ace x Eric C #Paul's too flirty for his own good #Eric is intimidated #Ace is oblivious #song lyric heavy!#Barrista Fox~

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manuelmueller · 6 years

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Fabian, age 18

10 minute writing challenge

Tagged by @peaches-n-crema thank you so much! The rules are simple: Write something in 10 minutes. I didn't exactly follow them, because instead of writing something, I finished something in the timeframe - over the past few days I'd started writing down bits and sentences for a little idea @vecchiasignoras and I had come up with. Thanks for headcanoning with me, this is for you ♡

---

Walking into the Allianz Arena for the first time in years felt strange. Not in a bad way, of course, but the wave of nostalgia that washed over Manuel as soon as he walked through the door was so strong it almost swept him off his feet.

He had come alone - even if both the other two members of his small family were in the stadium as well; they were here for their jobs while he himself was only a spectator.

When he found his seat in the VIP area - it was crazy how he manuvered around the hallways, turns and corners almost automatically still, the layout if the stadium burned into his mind after fourteen years for playing for Bayern, even if it had been a long time since he'd waved the fans a final goodbye, his then soon-to-be husband by his side, doing the same - the sharply dressed lady next to him let out a short gasp. Upon her request he glady gave her an autograph, accompanied by a crooked smiled; getting recognized also wasn't something that happened to him as often anymore.

She shot him a confused glance when he pulled out his phone as soon as he'd sat down - he was a bit late and there were mere minutes to the start of the game - opening the Sky app and plugging in his earphones instead of focusing on the actual pitch. He ignored her. A smile found its way too his lips when a familiar voice rang through his eardrums, announcing the lineup.

He was probably the only one who noticed when Thomas' voice stumbled a bit as he listed the players on the bench.

"And number 26, Fabian Müller," a short, almost unrecognizable pause, followed by a tiny smile, "the 18-year old youngster who transferred from St. Pauli this summer, called up to the first team for the first time."

Their boy looked so incredibly young in the image they'd used for him. Granted, he was six to seven years younger than Bayern's average player, but at the same time, Thomas had only been a year older at his own debut. For Manuel, it was hard to believe that it was his little boy down there, the person they had raised and shaped, following their footsteps at such a young age.

They had never urged him to become a football player, that had been Fabi's own decision. And of course, he'd played professional games in Hamburg too - something that everyone only expected from the youth team's record-setting captain - but this was different. This was Bayern, the Rekordmeister, and for Thomas and Manuel as well, this club was home.

Fabi knew that, and even if everyone reassured him that he didn't have to, he wanted to do nothing more than live up to their names, their legacy, their legend.

From were he was seated, Manuel couldn't see the player tunnels, so he focused back on his phone. His heart took a little leap when he spotted Fabian's mop of messy, dark blond curls. He looked nervous, and in that moment, Manu wanted to do nothing more than wrap him in a tight hug.

The first half of the game of the game went by pretty unspectularly. No one scored any goals, but still, somehow, there was no real tension builing. His butt had gone numb by then, and he was glad when, five minutes into halftime, Thomas shot him a text.

Hey babe, wanna come up?

Manuel chuckled. Thomas wasn't technically allowed to do that, he knew; but there also wouldn't be anyone complaining as long as they didn't make a habit out of it, especially since they were former teammates. After all, football games, for the likes of them, were all about socialising.

He shot his neighbour an apologizing glance when she had to get up for him to pass through and made the trek up to the official media area.

Thomas expected him in his box with a smirk and a "hey there hot stuff!" The headset he had to put on during the game still dangled around his neck, his eyes small from smiling.

Manuel blushed. It was crazy that even after all those years, with both of them graying, he still had that effect on him. After quickly peering over his shoulder to check if anyone was watching them, he leant in for a short peck.

The other journalists payed them no attention when Thomas sat down again he patted the seat next to him.

"Do you know if he's gonna come on during the second half?" Manuel asked, curiously.

When he peered down to the players' tunnel, he could see that Fabian had already made his way out, warming up next to the field.

Thomas nodded slowly. "They've informed me that he's gonna play with the start of the second half." He chuckled, "it's almost a bit funny, how none of my colleagues have any idea that he's my kid. Our kid."

Underneath the table, he took Manuel's hand. They both knew how nervous Fabi had been that morning, so much more anxious than when he'd debuted with St. Pauli'd first team just about a year ago. "What if I fuck it up?" he'd murmured, insecurity dripping from each and every of his pores.

They had reassured him that he wouldn't, but by the deep frowning line between his husband's eyebrows, Manuel could tell that Thomas was just as nervous as he was.

He pulled him close, pressing a single peck on those beloved mousy brown-grey curls. "He'll be fine. He's your son, after all."

Thomas' smile was tight but terribly fond at the same time. "And yours, my dear."

It turned out they'd worried for no reason. Within the first fifteen minutes of coming on, Fabian scored the leading goal - which, considering he was officially a defensive midfielder, not half bad.

A smile broke out on his face as soon as the ball hit the net and as he celebrated, lifting his hand to pat the crest on his chest he raised his other hand in a wave, his eyes searching for where he knew his parents were sitting.

Manuel cheered loudly while Thomas visibly struggled with keeping his commentating neutral, close to failing in stopping the mirth in his voice from spilling over, drenching every single one of his words.

"That's my boy," Manuel whispered as he watched Fabian grin on the big screens; and when he looked down at Thomas, he was met with the exact same expression.

---

Thanks for opening this to other fandoms, I think it's a marvellous idea! I tag @leonhoeretzka @bruce-is-my-daddy @eafay70 @lahmly @schnaf @chipsyio @sportsliebe and everyone else who might want to do it!

#tag games #my writing #*drabbles #neuller #fabiverse

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mclennunf · 7 years

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This Boy - Chapter 25

A/N: i just wanted to say thank you to all of you readers and all of the support i have been given is amazing. love you all!

~John's~

Forty-six minutes.

My mind was thinking a million words per second.

Paul. Paul. Paul. Alone. Exposed. Hopeless. Paul. Paul. Paul.

My heart was beating a million beats per second. Paul had been gone for forty-six minutes.

Forty-seven minutes.

It rang in my head like an alarm clock. I was convinced that if I took one of my pills it would calm the voices down. I had never felt so scared, angry and upset more than this moment. I was constantly reminded that at the end of the day, John Winston Lennon was alone.

Forty-eight minutes.

Alone in this dirty, dim lit hospital room. Alone with the once white curtains that were turning into a horrible yellow stain of a colour. Alone with the six lightbulbs, one of which was flickering repeatedly.

Forty-nine minutes.

"I can't do this anymore, bloody hell, it's too much," I said out loud to myself. Bloody right it's too hard, you can't keep on this McCartney lad forever. It's just going to keep getting harder and harder with that one, isn't it? "You're wrong!" I yelled to myself, another reminder of how absolutely crazy I was going. These machines are doin' it t'ya. Messin' ye right up. Take em out. I examined the tube going into my arm and the machines and wires attached to my chest.

Fifty minutes.

I began ripping them out. First I ripped the wires off of my chest, causing a few of the machines to beep like mad. Then I ripped the tube out of my arm, causing blood to shoot out of me like some sort of film. It made sense, the machines were messing with my brain. That was why.

Fifty-one minutes.

It took Paul fifty-one minutes to come back to me. When he opened the door, it was obvious he wasn't surprised in the slightest at what I had done. Paul already had a frown on his face when he entered the room, but when he realized I was bleeding out of my arm where that tube should've been he simply sighed and approached me. He threw my bottle of pills on the side table and proceeded to wrap up my arm. As he did so, I grabbed my medication and popped three pills. I knew that was pushing it, but they needed to help me and they needed to help me now. Tell precious Paul to leave. "Are you okay, John?" Paul asked as he finished wrapping up my arm, sitting down next to my bed. Nope, no you're not. I shook my head to try and ignore the voices. "I'm fine Paul. The medication will kick in, soon I hope." I tried to smile.

I looked at him and realized he was staring down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs slowly. "Paul?" I tried to get his attention. We were interrupted by a doctor barging in. I quickly pulled the sheet up over my arms to make sure he didn't notice I had ripped tubes and wires out of myself. "Alright John, looks like you're good to go, son." He began to tell me as he handed me a piece of paper. "These are the names and numbers of the officer and lawyer who are interested in expanding your case with the man who stabbed you's son. Officer says he put his own son in the hospital." The doctor told me as if this was new information to me. I glanced at Paul, who didn't even flinch. Go home. The voices began to sound different, perhaps they were fading away again.

"Thanks Doc. I'll be in touch with them." I smiled, hoping he would take the hint to leave. "Come back in a week to have your stitches removed, I'll send a nurse in momentarily to help remove your IV and what not. But, all the best son." He smiled back at me and exited the room. I looked back over to Paul.

Beautiful Paul. Loving Paul.

Hurting Paul.

"Paul are you okay?" I asked as I stood up out of the bed, untangling a few of the wires still wrapped around my torso and legs. Paul stood up and handed me my shirt, with a smile that I had seen before. It was an extremely fake smile. "I'm okay." He nodded. "I scared you... didn't I?" I asked, gently and slowly reaching out and taking one of his hands. "It's getting hard, John..." Paul said quietly, loosely and barely holding my hand back. My stomach sank. "What d'ye mean?" I asked kind of sternly, afraid of his response.

"Come in, John. Let's go home. I don't care t'talk about this here." Paul said, pulling me toward the door. I yanked him back, a little too aggressively I must admit. "No, talk to me now." I urged. Paul's shoulders sunk and he leaned against the closed door.

"Are ye callin' this off? Runnin' away because ol' Lennon is a nutter?" I asked, trying to sound as tough as possible but I knew he saw through it. He saw through the tough exterior I had spent years and years perfecting to the soft, scared little boy who was petrified of abandonment. "Don't pull that shite with me, John Lennon." Paul said, his eyes piercing through me. "I'm not leavin', ye daft git. Stop actin' like that, or else maybe I will bloody leave. Yer not the only one struggling, d'ye realize that? D'ye realize that on top of everything that I'm strugglin' with, I've got t'help you with what YOU'RE strugglin' with. I've always bloody said I'd be there for you, John. I love you. I'm just.... I'm just hurtin' too." Paul's tone changed by the end of his ranting, he went from angry red faced Paul, back to soft loving Paul.

"I'm sorry.. it's easy t'forget sometimes that ye have yer own shite. Ye just seem to handle it so well. I dunno." I tried to apologize, now realizing that the medication had kicked in and the voices had stopped. I smiled to myself.

Just as Paul tried to speak, we were interrupted again by a nurse. "Oh, you've already gotten off the machines?" She said with her eyebrows raised. "Yes, another nurse just came in and did it, ta love." I smiled and hoped she bought it. "Alright, get well." She smiled and left the room.

"Paul... m'love... I'm sorry," I said quietly as I approached him, putting my hands on his hips. He looked up at me with his big, sad doe-eyes and let out a single tear. "I saw her, John.. I saw me Mum.." Paul whimpered. I quickly pulled him into my arms and squeezed him tightly. I felt his hands tightly gripping my shirt, and his tears flow onto my neck. "There's no reason to keep it all inside, love." I whispered into his hair as I placed a few pecks on the top of his head. "She's only protectin' ye, I promise." I reminded him softly. I gently pulled him off my shoulder so I could look at him.

God, how beautiful he was. The way his long beautiful eyelashes fluttered when he spoke, the way his eyebrow arched and the way his plump bottom lip hung open. His beautiful chubby cheeks pink and rosy. I closed the space between us and lightly pressed my lips against his. "C'mon, m'love. Let's go home." I smiled into the kiss, quickly breaking it to grab my medication and shove the small bottle into my pocket and lead him out the door.

"You need to go see Mimi," Paul mumbled as we exited the hospital that we both seemed to now know too well and into the rain, I noticed Paul look up to the grey Liverpool sky. "I think we both just need to get some rest, how about that?" I suggested as we took the turn toward Forthlin Road. Paul just smiled and nodded.

"Whaddya think about takin' Jim t'court?" I finally asked, addressing the elephant that had been following us. Paul let out a deep sigh, as if he too was preparing for the topic to be brought up. "I think I want to, I just know it'll be difficult. I don't want t'talk about that time of me life anymore, especially to strangers." Paul admitted as we finally approached his home, stepping inside out of the cold rain. "Ah, Gin must be out picking up Mike from school." Paul observed as he sat down in the kitchen. I started the kettle and sat down next to him.

"I know it would be tough, m'love, but you know it'd be so worth it. And even more so, I would be with you the entire time. I would be so proud. We've come so far from those horrible times with Jim, he deserves to rot in a jail cell. Don't you agree?" I asked him, hoping I wasn't crossing any lines by discussing it with him too extensively. "Agree? Of course I agree. That man ruined me entire childhood, messed up me damn ribs forever and worse, he messed up me damn mind forever. Let's do it, Johnny. Let's throw the bastard away." Paul told me as he kissed my cheek. "That's my boy." I smiled and kissed his soft lips. "It'll be hard.." He said softly. I noticed his eyes beginning to wander away from me and to the chair next to me. The chair that had been used by Jim McCartney to shatter Paul's bones.

I picked up his face by the chin with my index finger. His eyes looked scared and absent. "It's only me, Macca." I said softly. A smile grew on his face, before the kettle began screaming, causing us both to jump. We both laughed and I stood up to make the tea. "It'll all work out. Pretty soon, there won't be a free Jim McCartney to worry about." I told him as I brought him his tea, and sat down with mine. "You're right I suppose. Perhaps we should call that lawyer and see what he's got to say then, huh?" Paul questioned and blew on his hot tea. "Tomorrow, love. Look at me, for Christ's sake Paulie! I must look like the damned grim reaper. I don't have any more energy in me, love." I tried to make him smile, and I was successful in doing so. "You look bloody handsome to me." Paul blushed a little bit and sipped away on his tea.

"I am sorry 'bout before too, Paul. I dunno what came over me, but the voices were real bad. I'm really sorry." I told him, gently placing my hand on top of his. "Have a talent for scarin' the hell out of me, you must have." Paul giggled a little bit and laced his beautiful fingers with mine. Our hands quickly pulled away from one another's as we heard Gin open the front door. Mike rushed into the kitchen. "Hello!" His small voice lit up the room. Paul's smile widened and his eyes lit up at the sight of his younger brother, embracing him in a tight hug. "How was school, lad?" Paul asked him as he picked him up and placed him on his lap. As Mike spoke about the nonsensical day only a child his age could find exciting, I noticed how intently and happily Paul was focused on him. He took every word out of Mike's mouth to heart, smiling the entire time. Gin obviously hadn't told him about me getting stabbed.

"And that was my day Paulie! What about yours? Was it exciting?" Mike asked, yawning and resting his head on his older brother's shoulder. "Oh yes, Mike. It was bloody exciting." Paul said, making eye contact with me and smiling.

That smile could save lives.

#mclennon #mclennon fanfiction #this boy

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max-transformer-blog1 · 6 years

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50 Inspirational Movie Watch Movies Musical - Fulfill Your Love for Music Divorce Drama - retreating Your Divorce Story Watch Comedy Movies - Bring Joy and Delight in your life Watch Mystery Movies - Through Urges Suspension What Every person should be Poeżi Family As Inspiratorji Inspirational gifts collection of unique gifts radiating happier life Painting inspiration can really help! The football betting: How to Play and Win longshot The Windows 7 Ultimate Blu-ray makes Blu-ray available on PC How will select Hire in Rocky Point Mexico Events of inspiration to change your life 5 Hot Romantic Movies to enjoy the love of your Long Distance Coming Of Age Of Bollywood and South Cinema C: Mixing beautiful Watch Bollywood Movies Online TV on ZENGA Craig Thornburrow Rocky Movies - The Ultimate Underdog Story Inspirational Entertainment Articles | 30 October, 2010 Most of us incited the Rocky films. The films say it upwards and downwards but in ultimately how this champion return. Is a brief history of these movies. medianet_width = 336 123movieshub medianet_height = 280; medianet_crid = 124211550; Most of us incited the Rocky films. These films starring Sylvestor Stallone inspiration tell the story of underdog finally makes it to the top. The films say it upwards and downwards but in ultimately how this champion return. Is a brief history of these movies. The original Rocky film came out in 1976 and stars to Sylvestor Stallone also wrote the screenplay. It was produced for less than $ 1 million and became sleep successful income earners worldwide of $ 225 million. The film became the highest grossing film of 1976. That year she won three Oscars including one for Best Picture. Also received critical praise from media and launched a major star in Stallone. The original Rocky film tells the story of Rocky Balboa is a collector of debts not polite but strong b'qalbha for sharks of Philadelphia loans. By collision of luck, Rocky found himself as having had a shot at the world championships scheduled heavyweight contender when he broke his hand. The cast films also include Talia Shire as Adrian, Burt Young as Paulie brother Rocky Adrians and friend, Burgess Meredith as Mickey Rocky Goldmill trainer, and finally Carl Weathers as Apollo CREEDS current champion. It is not widely known but due to the low budget of this film, the number of members of the Stallone family had minor roles. Stallone's father was the person scalpel bell to indicate the beginning and end of round; brother Frank had a singer on the street corner, and his first wife Sasha served as the photographer set. When this project was offered to the studios, they liked the idea but witnessed a good vehicle for established male stars like Robert Redford, Ryan Oneil, James Caan. Stallone called to the studios to be given a chance to watch the film. Was quoted later as he felt that he was never forgiven himself if the film became a hit without him in the starring role. The determination of who has the role of Adrian was a bit of a challenge. Initially the role was put to Carrie Snodgress but a dispute about money changed it. Susan Sarandon was investigated but it was quite Bonita considered for the role. After Talia Shire read the role, she was quickly signed and the rest is history. The original film went on to encourage five other sequences during the next thirty years including Rocky II, III, IV, V, and Rocky Balboa. To this day the original film remains a great reputation as a classic. In 2006, Rocky was selected for preservation in the National Film Registry of the United States by the Library of Congress as "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant. ON THE AUTHORITY "And now I invite you to see more information on the Rocky box set f'www.rockyboxset.com By Craig Thornburrow - Writer, owner of a small business and a big fan of Rocky Movies " dc_UnitID var = 14; dc_PublisherID var = 3523; dc_AdLinkColor var = "# 990 000; var = dc_underlineType solid; dc_open_new_win var = yes; var = dc_adprod ADL;

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dorolouisezinn-blog · 6 years

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50 inspiring films Watch music categories - satisfy your love for music Divorce Drama - Rewrite your divorce story Watch movies - Enjoy joy and joy in your life Watch Mystery Movies - Get hassle after admiration Which person should be known about encouraging poetry Adventurous Gifts-A collection of unique gifts that radiate a happy living Adventurous poster can really help! Football Games: How to Play Longshots and Win Windows 7 Ultimate Blu-ray player makes Blu-ray available on PC How will you choose rent in Rocky Point Mexico Adventurous film that changes your life 5 Hot Romantic Movies to Enjoy With Your Long Distance Love Coming of Life Bollywood and South Cinema: A Beautiful Blend Watch Bollywood movies online on Zenga TV Craig Thornburrow Rocky Movies - The Ultimate Inspirational Underdog Story Entertainment Tools | October 30, 2010 Many of us have loved Rocky Movies. The movies say up and down but finally how this champion bounces again. Here is a short story about these films. medianet_width = '336' 123movieshub medianet_height = '280'; medianet_crid = '124211550'; Many of us have loved Rocky Movies. These inspired movies with starring Sylvestor Stallone tell the story of undirdogs that ultimately make it to the top. The movies say up and down but finally how this champion bounces again. Here is a short story about these films. The original Rocky film was released in 1976 and played Sylvestor Stallone who also wrote the script. It was manufactured for under 1 million US dollars and became sleep disturbance with an income of 225 million US dollars. The film became the tallest film in 1976. In the year she won three Oscars, including one for the best film. It also received critical acclaim from the media and put Stallone into a big star. The original rocky movie tells the story of Rocky Balboa which is uneducated but a good hearted debt collector for the Philadelphia loan shark. With a stroke, Rocky found himself in a shot at the World Weight Loss when a scheduled competitor took his hand. In the video there are also Talia Shire and Adrian, Burt Young as Brother Adrians and Rockie friend Paulie, Burgess Meredith as Rocky's coach Mickey Goldmill and finally Carl Weathers as current champion Apollo Creed. It is not generally known, but due to the low budgeting of this film, numerous Stallones family members played a minor role. Stallone's father played the one who called the bell to mark the beginning and end of the round; Frank his brother played a streetwriter singer and his first wife Sasha worked as a photographer. When this project was offered to the studios, they liked the idea, but saw it as a good vehicle for a permanent male star like Robert Redford, Ryan ONeil, James Caan. Stallone urged the studio to get a chance to work in the movie. He was cited later when he had found that he had never forgiven himself if the film was hit without him in the lead role. To decide who to play Adrian's role was a little challenging. Initially, the role was set by Carrie Snodgress, but the money shift changed this. Susan Sarandon was auditioned but she was considered too beautiful for the role. After Talia Shire read for the role, she was quickly signed and the rest is a story. The original picture went to encourage five more continuations over the next thirty years, including Rocky II, III, IV, V and Rocky Balboa. To date, the original movie is a great reputation as a classic. In 2006, Rocky was chosen for preservation in the American National Film Registry of the Congress Library as "cultural, historical or aesthetically important. ABOUT THE HEALTH "And now I would like to invite you to see more information about the Rocky box at http://www.rockyboxset.com From Craig Thornburrow - A writer, small business owner and big fan of rocky movies " was dc_UnitID = 14; was dc_PublisherID = 3523; was dc_AdLinkColor = '# 990000'; where dc_underlineType = 'solid'; was dc_open_new_win = 'yes'; where dc_adprod = 'ADL';

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ashknanyq8-blog · 6 years

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