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lupinlongbottom · 4 years

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Practically a Weasley pt. 1.5

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: Writers block gets the better of (Y/N). Her loving boyfriend, Charlie, now on the brink of baking genius, plans to get her out of her funk. With a war looming above the world, it seemed only fitting the path that lay before the couple. This path also happens to rhyme with ‘hoping’.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: A few swears, nothing major.

A/N: AH! Eloping! Feelings! Charlie! To say I got sappy in this one is an understatement my dudes. I haven’t had this rush of inspiration for a fic in forever. Seemed fitting Dragon Boi once again pulled me from it’s clutches.

Part 1 ... Part 2 ... Part 3 ... Epilogue

The sweeping hills and dipping valleys of the reserve went on seemingly for miles. Patches of greenery freckled with the fairest pinks and yellows of the wildflowers surrounded the dragon sanctuary, enveloping the tiny village of wizards and dragons alike. Various cottages were sprinkled along the dirt paths, the gentle sloping of their roofs matched that of the hills in the distance. Upon one of the quaintest cottages, an open window allowed the aroma of a freshly baked pie to escape.

“Cherry?” (Y/N) groaned, stretching her arms above her head. She had been cooped up in the study, feverishly working on her next book.

“Nope,” Charlie hummed, rubbing the light dusting of flour off his apron, watching the white powder sprinkle to the floor. “Apple.”

“Damn. Here I thought coming out of my dungeon would allow me to reap the benefits of my favorite pie,” said (Y/N), wistfully looking at the pie, now sitting on the windowsill. “But I guess not.”

“We were out of cherries, flower,” Charlie laughed. “Maureen’s wife had some extra apples from her tree, brought them into work yesterday. I figured a pie is a step in the right direction to get you out of your creative funk. Besides, you know I love to bake.”

“Creative funk?” laughed (Y/N), weaving through the counters to reside closer to the pie. And perhaps her boyfriend.

“You said so yourself,” the clatter of dishes hitting the sink rattled throughout the kitchen. “You’ve been trying to write that book of yours for months now.”

“I never said creative funk!” (Y/N) exclaimed, more laughter trailing the end of her words. “I just can’t figure out where to take the story next. My mind has been preoccupied—”

“I know,” Charlie motioned to his maroon smock, tied just above his hips. “You really can’t get enough of me in this apron, can you?” His brown eyes flickered mischievously.

“Preoccupied with the war, Charlie,” (Y/N) cocked her eyebrow. “I thought that after the move, being closer to the dragons and you, of course would’ve helped my writers block…”

“My poor princess, locked away in her tower, day in and day out, plagued with a terrible curse,” Charlie sighed, hand clutching his chest. “If only her valiant and ruggedly handsome prince could help… perhaps, with a pie, made with the love of a thousand men!” Now on one knee, Charlie motioned to the pie, resting still on its perch in the window.

“But will a pie slay the dragon along the way? Or will the prince do the dirty work himself?” (Y/N) mused, playing along with Charlie’s fantasy.

“Flower, you know how misrepresented dragons are in the media,” He mumbled. “I could never slay the dragon protecting you, after all,” He rose to his feet, inches away from his girlfriend. “They only protect the finest of treasure,” He leaned in for a kiss, capturing (Y/N)’s lips with his. The crisp taste of apples danced between the two, as Charlie couldn’t resist a mid-baking snack. (Y/N) laced her hands around his neck, feeling his hands do the same to her waist. “Well,” He paused. “That and the eggs.”

“You’re an egg.” She rolled her eyes, continuing their kiss. This was truly the domestic bliss they’d dreamed of.

“I’m sorry that you’re having a rough time with your work,” Charlie whispered. “The Order is doing all they can at a time like this. I’ve been working non-stop, recruiting other members for our cause, protecting the dragons. No one expected it would escalate the way it has.”

“I know you’ve been working hard,” (Y/N) mumbled, releasing herself from Charlie’s grip. “Hell, this is your first day off in about a month,” She motioned to the pie. “And you spent it baking for me, when you could’ve—should’ve been resting.”

“I can rest when I’m dead,” He felt the icy look (Y/N) had shot him in that very instant. “Which I’m not planning on doing anytime soon, don’t worry.”

“All I can do is worry, Charlie. You and your family are apart of something great, something that can help end this war. What am I doing? Writing children’s stories? Living in my own little world and pretending the world isn’t going to shit?”

“You know how I feel about you joining The Order,” Charlie’s hand moved to the back of his neck, as if holding his head upright, the tension growing. “I want to keep you safe.”

“I’m not going to argue about this again. You know I’m a more than capable witch,” This time, it was (Y/N)’s hand flying to her chest, making a point. “I want to help. I want to support you.” The air in the kitchen was growing thicker, the words lingering around them.

“I’m not saying you’re not capable, love. Don’t you think I know that more than anyone? I just want to protect you!” Charlie blurted, not intending to raise his voice.

“Then protect me!” She huffed, voice cracking. "Let me be by your side! You can’t protect me if you are hundreds of cities away, can you?!”

Charlie was silent. The gravity of his girlfriend’s words hitting him square in the chest. “You’re right,” He mumbled, voice low. “You always are.”

“Glad you could come to your senses,” (Y/N) crossed her arms. “I hate fighting you on this, but you need to know how important it is for me to be by your side. Through all of this.”

“You’re right,” His eyes flicked upward, meeting (Y/N)’s. “I want—no—need you standing by my side.”

“I’m very persuasive, I know that I can help recruiting new members! I can pack my bag in two ticks if you can tell me where your next meeting is!” said (Y/N) excitedly, clasping her hands together.

“No, not just that,” He shook his head. “I need you standing by my side forever. Especially after this war.”

“Well of course I will. I’m your girlfriend, Charlie.” (Y/N) giggled airily, slightly confused at her love’s sudden seriousness.

“You need to be more than that,” Charlie shook his head again. “Let’s go to the courthouse, right now! Change our titles.” He laced his fingers through (Y/N)’s, tugging her towards the front door.

“I’m not following?” She glanced at Charlie, fumbling to put on his brown leather boots.

“You want to stand by my side forever, yeah?” (Y/N) nodded. “Let’s go get bloody married, then.”

“Married? Right now!?” (Y/N)’s eyes widened, shifting between both of her boyfriend’s own rapidly.

“Right now.” He nodded, only ever so slightly.

“Are you mad? Do you have a fever?” The back of her hand reached Charlie’s forehead. He pushed it away in jest, sitting upon the last few steps of the stairs.

“I’m not mad! What’s stopping us?” Charlie grinned, finally lacing up his boots successfully.

“For one, a lack of a proposal?”

“Alright, then,” Charlie moved from the stairs to his knee, grabbing (Y/N)’s hand. “Will you marry me?”

“Well of course, but—”

“Consider yourself proposed!” He laughed, the sound echoing throughout the cottage. “Put on some shoes, let’s go get married!”

“I’m hardly dressed for a wedding,” (Y/N) motioned to her pajamas, a green top and light pink sleep shorts. “As a matter of fact, neither are you!”

“You look ravishing as always, flower,” He sprang to his feet. “Besides, you love the apron.”

“I do,” (Y/N) sighed, momentarily distracted. “This is all happening much quicker than I could’ve imagined.” She laughed, a hand running through her hair.

“But you’ve imagined it before, yeah? Let’s go and do it,” Charlie clasped his hands around hers, looking (Y/N) dead in the eyes. “You mean more to me than anything in this world. I don’t know what I would do if something were to happen to either of us and I didn’t make you an official Weasley.”

“If you died I could’ve married Fred or George,” (Y/N) chuckled, merely teasing. “But you’re right. I suppose tomorrow isn’t promised. Let’s get married.” The two share a kiss. Softer than their kitchen escapade earlier, somehow sweeter than the apples before. “But please give me five minutes to change.”

The trip to the courthouse was quick, thanks to their Apparition. Hardly any wait to fill out a marriage license, not many couples were getting married on a Monday afternoon. Charlie rapidly filled out his portion of the license, almost letting the ink flow directly from his heart into the quill. (Y/N) filled it out just as fast, freezing only at the place where she needed to sign. In a beat, she let her name hit the tip of the quill, tracing itself onto the paper.

(Y/N) Weasley

“Alright you two, let’s make this quick,” said the judge. He was a short man, round in every sense of the word. “As much as I love doing these… ‘end-of-the-world’ weddings, I have some chocolate frogs to attend to.”

“Jim, we’ll repay you in plenty of chocolate frogs, I assure you,” Charlie laughed. “Thanks for doing this on such short notice.”

“In my few years of knowing you, Charlie, short notice is the normal amount of notice,” Jim chuckled heartily. “But I’ll take you up on those frogs.”

“As you should,” (Y/N) nodded. “Charlie may need a reminder, though.”

“Well, with a beautiful wife like you, Charlie won’t have much to worry about,” Jim smiled. “Alright. Stand together and listen to me…”

The judge began to speak, reading from a small booklet about the size of a deck of cards. The words flowed into the air, though neither the bride or groom cared to pay attention. Their focus was solely on one another. Charlie granted (Y/N) the five minutes she had requested before, allowing her to change into something more bridal. Close enough to it, anyway. An off-white dress, glittering with small pink roses, growing larger near the hem. She looked ethereal, the very definition of a bride.

Charlie’s bride.

“…and I suppose the two of you have vows?” Jim huffed, glancing up from his book. “Or did you not get that far?”

“Well, I suppose we didn’t have time to write anything down,” Charlie motioned to his apron and chuckled. “But I reckon I could come up with something now.”

“I could too. I’ve drafted mine a few times before,” (Y/N) flushed, glancing down. “Only to help with writers block, of course.”

“I��ll start,” Charlie grinned, gently grabbing (Y/N)’s hands. “(Y/N). My gorgeous, courageous flower. I never thought, nor did I ever dream I could find someone as witty or as tenacious as yourself to love. Blimey, I hardly imagined loving anyone more than dragons if I’m being honest.” (Y/N) chuckled, rubbing her thumb across the back of Charlie’s hand. “Honestly, when I learned that you were best mates with my twin brothers, I thought perhaps you were a bit deranged. But I learned that of the three of you, you’re the one that carries their shared braincell.”

“Hey…” (Y/N) muttered, taken aback slightly.

“I’m only half joking, love,” Charlie beamed. “But, besides your amazing good looks, I love you for your heart and soul. I promise to always take care of you, to prepare your favorite tea when you’re cold. I promise to cuddle you when you’re sick, even when you say you don’t look cute. I’ll even promise to indulge your wildest fantasies, putting this apron on whenever you ask. Even if it’s the only thing I’m wearing,” Another chuckle. “I love you, (Y/N). I can’t wait to spend the rest of my days with you.”

(Y/N) could hardly keep the tears from falling. A gentle droplet rolled down her right cheek, hanging delicately on her chin. How could she ever top the sap that flew from his lips? Surely her drafts of her vows were written in a dream-like state, normally jesting to herself a reality that wouldn’t come to fruition until much later. Hardly could she imagine standing in the quaint shack—the reserve’s excuse of a courthouse—sharing these feelings with Charlie. But, she had to try.

“Charles Septimus Weasley,” (Y/N) croaked, barely able to recite his full name. He flinched at the mention of his title. “No amount of divination could’ve predicted I would end up becoming a Weasley. I admire the little things about you. Your beautiful brown eyes, warm as the morning sun, ready to accept me at any moment. The never ending list of scars and burns that litter your skin in different patterns, stories of your bravery and kindness,” Her thumb stroked against a seemingly simple scar on the edge of his finger, relaying her point. “Your dedication to your family is the strongest sense of truth that comes from you, Charlie. Hell, how many people would willingly break into a school to rescue a dragon, all to help their younger brother?”

“Not many.” Charlie boasted, puffing his chest slightly.

“Your sense of humility is solid too,” (Y/N) quipped, smirking lightly. “I promise to always be your shoulder to cry on, especially when the dragons ignore you more than usual. I promise to never let you fall too deeply asleep on the couch, always welcoming you back to our bed, even if your feet are colder than the Dementor’s breath,” Another chuckle. “But, above all, I promise to love you, Charles Weasley. I’m dedicating my life to stand by you, through this war and beyond. I love you.”

It was Charlie’s turn to weep. How long had he been crying? Surely (Y/N) crying had been the stepping stone to get to his current emotional state. A sniffle was heard between them, causing the couple to whip their heads towards the noise.

“In all my years,” Jim sneezed, filling his handkerchief with snot. “I have never seen more beautiful vows. Normally it’s the same, rushed shtick. But you two,” he sneezed again. “You two are perfectly in love and I just—”

“Jim...” Charlie started.

“Let me do my job, Charlie!” Jim cautioned, holding a single finger up. “Now, the answers seem obvious, but for legality reasons I need you to answer after me,” Charlie’s ears perked up. “Do you, Charles Septimus Weasley take (Y/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife? Through sickness and—”

“I do,” Charlie professed, eyes not leaving (Y/N)’s for a second. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have said all that sap before, no?”

“Right,” Jim scoffed, a bit annoyed. He turned to (Y/N). “Do you, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) take Charlie to be your—”

“I do!” (Y/N) chanted, too eager to allow the judge to continue.

“Where was that sense of urgency when reciting your vows?” Jim mumbled, flipping through his book. “Seriously, the one part I get to do…” He took a deep breath. “Well, by the power vested in me by the Wizarding Council, I now pronounce you man and wife. You can, uh, kiss the bride.”

Charlie wasted no time kissing his blushing bride. It was the moment he had dreamed about since laying eyes on (Y/N) in that coffee shop only a few years prior. The promises of their love were overflowing between the two in their shared moment of pure bliss. Never had a kiss felt like this, like a growing spark begging for release. Neither of the newlyweds wanted to part, remove themselves from this moment.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley,” a woman sang, momentarily stunning the couple out of their bliss. “Congratulations.”

“Ah,” Charlie faltered, face surely shining with the brilliance of roses. “Thank you, Maureen, for being a witness on such short notice.”

“It’s not a problem,” She cooed, waving her hand. “I’m honored you thought of me, Weasley. I’m also glad my lunch break lined up for your happy day,” She laughed. “When the two of you have an official ceremony, make sure to keep Lauren and I on your list, yeah?” Maureen clicked, quickly signing the marriage certificate before exiting the small courtroom.

The certificate was handed to the receptionist, who didn’t seem jaded by the quick marriage that had taken place moments prior. She smiled up at the couple. “I’ve seen plenty of weddings here, but you two,” She paused. “You two give me hope in these dark days.”

“Thank you,” (Y/N) stammered, touched by the stranger’s words. “Thank you, to both of you,” She motioned to Jim. “I assure your payment in chocolate frogs will be arranged promptly.”

“A woman of her word,” Jim cackled. “Shame she’s taken.”

“Taken she is.” Charlie responded, placing a gentle kiss to his wife’s knuckles, his fingers still interwoven with hers.

The couple decided to take the long way home, enjoying the purple sunset that blanketed the valley. In almost no time at all, before the sun dipped beneath the earth, the newlyweds entered their cottage. The aroma of pie not yet left the quaint building.

“Shoot,” Charlie mumbled. “I was supposed to carry you across the threshold!”

“It’s fine, Charlie,” His wife laughed. “We’ve been going against tradition anyway. What’s one less thing?”

“I just want to make our wedding day memorable, flower,” Charlie stroked (Y/N)’s hair. “But I suppose I could just carry you to our bed?”

“Oh?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“We have to consummate it at some point.” Charlie grinned, eyes slanted down towards his wife.

“I’ll take you up on that, my husband,” The new title rolling off her tongue almost mockingly. “But we should have some of your pie first, no?”

“I suppose so,” He hummed. “We should have a proper dinner, I wouldn’t want to spoil dessert.” Charlie’s hands trailed down to (Y/N)’s sides, quickly grabbing a handful of her backside.

“Charlie!” (Y/N) gasped, watching her husband retrieve the pie from the windowsill, acting as if nothing had happened. Before he could shut the window, an owl flew through the crack, landing on the counter.

“This doesn’t look like a letter from The Order…” said Charlie, grabbing the purple envelope from the owl’s beak. In an instant, the owl flew off, back to where it had come from.

“What does it say?” (Y/N) asked, drawing closer to the counter, curiosity growing stronger.

“It’s a wedding invitation. For my brother, Bill,” Charlie laughed, continuing to read. “Blimey! Set for the first of August!”

“I guess this war is causing everyone to jump the gun and get married, huh?” (Y/N) smiled.

“At least we did it before Bill,” Charlie mirrored the grin. “That’s something I can hang over his head until the day I die.” He lifted (Y/N) up onto the counter, sealing her lips with his.

“But,” (Y/N) fought the kiss. “The pie?”

“Consider my appetite spoiled,” Charlie mumbled against her lips. He sucked lightly on her bottom lip before continuing. “I’ve decided that I want dessert first.”

“Charlie…” (Y/N) moaned, deepening the kiss, hands pulling at Charlie’s hair tie, letting his unruly locks fall into her fingers. She tugged lightly.

“(Y/N),” Charlie groaned, enjoying the sensation. “We should move this to the bedroom. Have to tire you out for a good night’s rest if we’re to travel to France tomorrow.”

“France?” (Y/N) panted, pulling away slightly.

“For The Order recruitment.”

“But I thought you said—”

“—and I was stupid for saying anything of the sort,” Charlie agreed, placing hot kisses down her neck. “You had said so yourself, my family is apart of something great,” More kisses. “You’re part of that family now, yeah?”

(Y/N)’s eyes glistened with tears, threatening to fall. She shook her head, determined to not cry any more that evening. She held her breath, a realization struck her. “My stars! Your family!”

“Not exactly a good way to keep the mood going, love…” Charlie continued, working his way across her collar.

“What are we going to tell your family?” (Y/N) gasped. “My family! They hardly know we’re living together, let alone eloped!”

“That’s the excitement of eloping, isn’t it? Not telling our families?” Charlie paused his ministrations, looking at his wife. “But I suppose our families didn’t know about our relationship until a few months in anyway, what’s the harm in keeping this our little secret for a bit?”

“I suppose…” (Y/N) trailed, recalling the passionate feelings their past secrecy had given them. “I suppose it could be a bit of cheeky fun.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Charlie beamed, planting a wet kiss to (Y/N)’s lips, lingering for a moment longer. “Come on, indulge your husband.”

“I just might,” (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Charlie’s neck, allowing him to pick her up like he had previously lamented about missing out on. Bridal style. “My dear husband…” Her voice fell to a whisper, leaning in to sing sweet nothings only Charlie could hear.

“Keep the apron on.”

General Tag List: @maralisa124 , @leighxlover , @hey-its-me-rai , @missihart123 , @biatheintrovert , @luna-xxxxx , @chocolaterumble, @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy , @missmulti

Charlie Weasley Tag List: @sungoddessra , @crescent-ia , @phantom-pheonix , @dccomicnerd-world , @marveltrash99 , @graymountaingal, @storiesbycaroline, @mytinybaguette , @garbdump

want to be added to a tag list? hmu in the replies or ask box with what characters you’d like to be tagged with!

#Charlie Weasley #charlie weasley x you #hphm #charlie weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines #charlie weasley imagines #dragon boi #hogwarts #fanfic #fluff #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #charlie canonically doesn't have a middle name so DAMNIT i gave him one #it's his grandfather's name ya heard #also yay love and stuff

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 3 years

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in belated honor of valentine's day/palentine's day/singles appreciation day, i am challenging you with posting your top 10 musical theatre love duets.

Ooh boy, inch resting! I had to think about these! I realized as I was making this list that I am allergic to most love duets, and so I must thank @captainofthefallen and @extasiswings for helping me cobble this list together.

But here we are! In descending order, going from ten to c’est finale.

10. “I’ve Never Been in Love Before” from Guys and Dolls

There’s just something really... I don’t know. It’s a short and sweet song and I just feel there’s something about characters going oh shit oh fuck I’m in love is that what this is holy shit I have no idea what I’m doing I’ve never felt this before.

9. “You’re the One that I Want” from Grease

Okay you can all stop rolling your eyes now. THIS IS FUN TO SING OKAY? IT’S FUN! IT GETS EVERYONE SINGING ALONG! IT’S A SONG ABOUT EMBRACING YOUR LOVER’S AESTHETICS AND LIFESTYLE BUT ALSO HAVING THE SELF-RESPECT TO DEMAND THEY STEP UP AND BE THERE FOR YOU AND BE RESPONSIBLE! IT’S ABOUT COMING TOGETHER! LET ME HAVE THIS!

8. “What is this Feeling?” from Wicked

Is this a love duet? Depends on who you ask. I personally never saw anything queer in Elphaba and Glinda’s relationship - but as a young teen who identified a lot with Elphaba and also yearned for a true friendship, I can understand that while I was seeing the friendship I wanted, other young queer girls saw the “best friend who might’ve been more” relationship they had growing up. So it’s a matter of perspective. But whether you think Elphaba and Glinda loved each other romantically or platonically, THIS SONG IS THE ENEMIES-TO-LOVERS BANGER WE ALL NEED IN OUR LIVES.

7. “The Finale” from She Loves Me

Now, I know this is not a traditional love duet, but it’s the first actual happy duet we get from the two leads where they’re not at odds and they’re talking over each other with happiness and excitement and you the audience are grinning like an idiot because they finally figured it out and it ends in a desperate euphoric kiss and it’s the cutest most satisfying goddamn thing.

6. “Cover You” from RENT

RENT is, I think, one of those musicals that you really love as a teenager and you’re young and queer and angry, and then you get older and realize its flaws and continue to have a fondness for it more out of nostalgia than out of any actual value the show has. I’ve come to be really frustrated with the characters and story in RENT and I don’t think it holds up. Having said that, some of the songs still slap. Maybe it’s the fact that this song is sung by two queer people to one another, but I still really love it and I still get a li’l flutter in my heart when I hear I think they meant it, when they said you can’t buy love, but I know you can rent it, under lease, you are my love, on life, all my life.

5. “Take Me or Leave Me” from RENT

Yeah yeah yeah I know, it’s Maureen basically trying to convince Joanne that Maureen’s flirting with everyone and possibly cheating on Joanne (as she did with Mark, her previous partner) is fine and not a big deal, and that’s really not great, and Maureen is not exactly what I would call excellent bisexual rep. BUT THE SONG STILL FUCKING SLAPS OKAY. It’s a super fun song to sing and especially so if you have a partner you can have fun flirting with while you do it, and I really like the idea of two people who are so different still falling for each other but also having the self confidence to say hey, I’m a catch too, you’d better appreciate me.

Does this count as a love duet? I don’t know. I also don’t care. I’m not a romantic, folks.

4. “In a Crowd of Thousands” from Anastasia

Again, not sure if you could strictly call this a love duet because it’s not two people singing about their love for one another, it’s two people singing about a memory that they realize, two thirds of the way through, they actually share. But that’s also the moment they realize they’re in love with each other - and the moment they realize they can never be together. That ending bit when Dmitri drops to his knee and says “Your Highness” fucking kills my fragile heart every goddamn time. Fuck. Stab me, it would be kinder.

3. “As Long as You’re Mine” from Wicked

Anyone surprised I picked a love duet that happens during a sex scene? No? That’s what I thought. Look I’m not a very traditionally romantic person. And I legitimately kinda swoon over lyrics like borrow the moonlight until it is through and I’ll be right here holding you. There’s something desperate and defiant about this song, two lovers who know they’re working on borrowed time but also say fuck it they can’t take this night, and this feeling, from us.

2. “Something Good” from The Sound of Music

Perhaps I had a wicked childhood? Perhaps I had a miserable youth? Right from those opening lines I’m breathless. The only reason I’m not crying is because I’m too busy trying to remember how to breathe as Maria and the Captain sing in tender, quiet words about how surely, despite their self-perceived mistakes and flaws, they must have done something truly good in order to earn the love of the good, wonderful person in front of them. I don’t know there’s just something inherently beautiful about two people wildly in love with each other who are also completely baffled as to how the other person ended up choosing them. Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could, so somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good. Excuse me I need to go watch this again.

1. “This is Life” from Bandstand

FUCKING LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE DROWNING IN MY OWN EMOTIONS. NOBODY TOUCH ME NOBODY LOOK AT ME. I WILL NEVER NOT SCREAM OVER THIS SONG. FUCK. FUCK!!!!

#mads answers things #legitimately I was like well we have Bandstand?#and then forgot about every single musical I'd ever listened to ever #my poor friends were flinging songs at me #and I was just like ew #they're singing about how much they love each other?#don't like THAT my dude #so anyway can you tell I'm not particularly romantic #handlewithcharacter

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your-angle-of-music · 3 years

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Anyone want my playlist for my dream cast version of Les Miserables?

Here it is!

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyXOfYb8cpflTuoC6FuFMwyCuD60-V0J4

It’s as close to the full show as I can get. Let me know if I miscredited anyone, am missing any major songs, or have anything listed out of order. I’m happy to be convinced that a different version of a song should reign supreme as well, so hit me up!

Song/actors list and explanations under the cut.

1. Overture/Work Song - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Terrence Mann as Javert (Original Broadway)

It’s a big, bombastic, awesome beginning. I definitely vibe with the especially over-the-top synth and these particular convicts’ generally growly, desperate tone. Wilkinson’s Valjean, eternally my favorite, doesn’t seem feral like some versions I’ve seen, but rather like he’s trying so hard to just be good and get through this and keep it together, until he snaps a bit at “My name is Jean Valjean” and the way he acts that gives me chills. Mann’s Javert seems more cold than over-the-top aggressive, which I always like, although he doesn’t stick out thaaat much to me.

2. On Parole/The Bishop - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Paul Monaghan as Bishop Myriel (10th Anniversary)

I love everything about Wilkinson’s Valjean’s “freedom is mine” bit. His unique diction and his perfect tenor-ness and the hope in his voice...yeah. The way he hits and holds that “fliiiiiiiight” note is also pretty perfect. It sounds like the scream he was holding in the whole time he was in prison. I also appreciate Monaghan’s Bishop’s sudden earnestness at the “But remember this, my brother” part and the way he holds that last low “I have bought your soul for God.”

3. Prologue/What Have I Done? - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean (Original London)

Wilkinson’s Valjean seems to make the beginning part properly fast and frantic, then switches to a gentle, heartwrenchingly vulnerable tone, then his absolutely anguished “this is all I have known.” As always, he excels at those high notes and long notes.

4. At the End of the Day - Lea Salonga as Fantine, Alfie Boe as Jean Valjean, Jeff Nicholson as the Factory Foreman (25th Anniversary)

All the women here sound so angry, at everyone and everything, and it’s pretty great. Honestly, it was Nicholson’s factory foreman here that really caught my ear, with his nasty “oi!” after the “and in a bed” line and his frankly terrifying “on your way!”. I like Salonga’s Fantine’s note of desperation, although she honestly could sound a little angrier. This track includes a tiny bit of the beginning of “I Dreamed a Dream” and then cuts off — sorry about that.

5. I Dreamed a Dream - Maureen Moore as Fantine (1988)

Something about this recording makes it sound like it’s much older than it is, and that slightly echoey sound makes it sound all the more haunting. A lot of Fantines sound enraged here, and I like that too, but something about Moore’s just utter sadness and vulnerability just sells it for me like no one else can. She sounds so young, because Fantine is. And then the way she belts “shame” is perfection. The way she goes from quiet and gentle at the beginning to desperate belting at the end and then the soft last lines murders my soul every time.

6. Lovely Ladies - Randy Graff as Fantine (Original Broadway)

Honestly...I haven’t found a version of this song that I love yet. There’s still this air of humor to it that feels incongruous at best and mean-spirited at worst. But I really like the worn-out, older sounding voices of a lot of the women singing to Fantine, and Graff’s Fantine’s anguish and slightly breaking voice is definitely good, as is her “don’t they know they’re making love to one already dead?”

7. Fantine’s Arrest - Caissie Levy as Fantine, Nathaniel Hackmann as Jean Valjean, Earl Carpenter as Javert (2014)

I love Levy’s Fantine here, with her fear and her fierceness. The way she spits out that “even a whore who’s gone to the bad won’t be had by a rat” is perfect in every way, as is her pleading after. Carpenter’s Javert has a lovely bass and is also cold and punchable, as all Javerts should be. This is one of the only songs on this playlist I have a video for, and I appreciate the blocking; the women crowding around Fantine and then fleeing, and the way Hackmann’s Valjean keeps his distance from Fantine and generally radiates respect and tenderness.

8. The Runaway Cart - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Terrence Mann as Javert (Original Broadway)

Thank you @lesbianrung for this recommendation! The ensemble sounds frantic and scared here, sometimes screaming more than singing, but for a chaotic scene like this, it works. Mann’s Javert is more reserved here than some I’ve seen, a bit more like the authority-fearing, self-loathing Brick Javert. Wilkinson’s Valjean sounds like a wreck when he’s begging someone to help him lift the cart, does a great little nervous laugh on “say what you must, don’t leave it there,” and belts his “how can you be sure that I am not your man” to excellent effect.

9. Who Am I? - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean (Original Broadway)

Hey quick question did I mention that I love Colm Wilkinson? God that tormented shiver in Valjean’s voice...the softness of that last “I am damned”..his buildup up to “I’m Jean Valjean”...the way he hits that last “two-four-six-oh-oneeeeeeee”...yeah no there is one (1) Jean Valjean and that is Colm Wilkinson.

10. Come to Me/Fantine’s Death - Ruthie Henshall as Fantine, Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean (10th Anniversary)

Henshall’s Fantine sounds so gentle yet so powerful here. The way she sings “I will sing you lullabies and wake you in the morning” absolutely shatters me and always will.Her belting sounds beautiful and clear and perfect, vulnerable yet strong. The way she fades out on her last word, “wake,” is utterly haunting. Wilkinson’s Jean Valjean sounds soft and caring, and the way he half-breathes a lot of the words is. Oh.

11. The Confrontation - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Philip Quast as Javert (10th Anniversary)

Quast’s Javert has a true bass quality that really, really works, like in the way he says “you’ll wear a different chain.” In general, the way he seems to bite off his words and the steely determination of his voice is perfect. He balances really well with Wilkinson’s Valjean who, for the first time, sounds scary, but can switch to softness for the dead Fantine. The last “I will be there” is excellent all-around.

12. Castle on a Cloud - Zoë Hart as Little Cosette (Original London)

Hart’s Little Cosette is insanely good! She really does sound like a little kid and still has awesome acting and she’s in tune! Her “there is a lady all in white, holds me and sings me a lullaby” bit is heartbreaking.

13. Master of the House - Barry James as M. Thenardier, Gay Soper as Mme. Thenardier (International Symphonic)

James and Soper are my favorite Thenardiers of all time, by far. I like this longer version that mentions M. Thenardier’s Waterloo shenanigans. James’ Thenardier sounds gleefully evil, and I like his whispery, growly tone or rowdy almost-shouting. You can absolutely hear his nasty grin. His affected r-rolling also reminds me a lot of the Brick characterization. Soper’s Mme. Thenardier has a weasely quality to her voice that seems appropriate, but she does not shy away from the ruder lines (”lifelong shit,” “not much there,” “up the master’s ass,” etc.) and she, like her husband, seems to be having a lot of fun and lapping up the attention. I adore how she delivers her “bastard in the house” line.

14. The Bargain/Waltz of Treachery - Barry James as M. Thenardier, Gay Soper as Mme. Thenardier, Gary Morris as Jean Valjean, Marissa Dunlop as Little Cosette (International Symphonic)

Morris’ Valjean and Dunlop’s Little Cosette’s “la la la la la la la la” harmony is amazing and tender and adorable and may or may not make me cry which is not supposed to happen before Act II. Morris’ delivery of his “now her mother is with God” and “I stand here in her place” lines is powerful, too. The Thenardiers sound delightfully sleazy and dramatic, too. I like that Morris’ Valjean sounds actually angry at them, unlike many others I’ve seen. I almost have to admit though, I miss the movie version of the final lines, where they had “Will you be like a papa to me?”/”Yes Cosette, yes it’s true, I’ll be father and mother to you,” while here, like in other stage shows, they have “Will there be castles and children to see?”/”Yes Cosette, yes it’s true, there’s a castle just waiting for you” because 1) I like Valjean’s father and mother role that Hugo kept talking about in the Brick, and 2) in the musical, it seemed pretty clear that there weren’t actually any other children around Cosette until Marius showed up!

15. Suddenly - Hugh Jackman as Jean Valjean (2012 movie)

Yes, I’m including this song from the movie. Honestly, I don’t like the song itself that much, and I don’t think Jackman’s Valjean has the strongest voice, although his acting is extremely sweet, and when he almost whispers “full of light” and “like the sun” I definitely almost lose it. But I’m mainly including this song because the musical really did need a song that fills this role. The stage musical devotes a weirdly small amount of time to Cosette and Valjean’s relationship, considering that it drives Valjean’s actions for the rest of the story and it is central to the Brick (and one of my favorite parts of it, too). This is the first time that Valjean has ever felt truly loved in his life! Something suddenly HAS begun!

16. Look Down - Ross McCall as Gavroche, Anthony Warlow as Enjolras (International Symphonic)

I fell in love with this version because of the ensemble, honestly. It started out loud and powerful and strong, even more so than the Overture/Work Song bit. McCall’s Gavroche is beyond perfect, though. He is strong and sassy, and angry too, more than most Gavroches in the beginning, but he also sounds so young! Warlow’s Enjolras has an incredibly powerful voice as well, and makes a pretty awesome first impression.

17. The Robbery - Carrie Hope Fletcher as Eponine Thenardier, Rob Houchen as Marius Pontmercy, Cameron Blakely as M. Thenardier, James Gant as Javert (2013)

This is another song I’ve got the blocking for. It’s pretty standard, although I always like when a Marius, like Houchen’s, gets involved in the Fray to defend Cosette. I love the dynamic between Fletcher’s Eponine and Houchen’s Marius, with affection and teasing and care, and their little smiles and head shakes, but also with a bit of discomfort on Marius’ end — he seems a little awkward about trying to get his books back with minimal contact, and he seems to be deflecting the “I like the way you grow your hair” thing as nicely as he can, but definitely deflecting. Blakely doesn’t make much of an impression as Thenardier (although his “told you so” is really funny), and Gant is not my favorite Javert, but Fletcher’s “It’s Javert” is ridiculously awesome.

18. Stars - Philip Quast as Javert (10th Anniversary)

Quast’s Javert is...yeah, what else is there to say?

19. Eponine’s Errand - Kaho Shimada as Eponine Thenardier, Michael Ball as Marius Pontmercy (International Symphonic)

I wish this recording weren’t missing Gavroche’s little part beforehand, but I think Shimada’s Eponine and Ball’s Marius are worth the trade-off. Shimada sounds a little softer and sadder here, not angry like in some versions, which I don’t mind. But when she sees Marius, she switches to determinedly playful which is all the more heartwrenching. And her “I don’t want your money, sir” hurts. Ball’s Marius’ voice is nice and lovestruck and also not softening his single-minded obliviousness. I like his gentle desperation at his “Eponine, do this for me.” I also like that the lyric here is “don’t let her father know” instead of “don’t let your father know.”

20. Red and Black - Eddie Redmayne as Marius Pontmercy, Aaron Tveit as Enjolras, George Bladgen as Grantaire (2012 movie)

Embarrassing as it is to admit, Eddie Redmayne is my favorite Marius. He’s emotional and, well, a noodle, but also very sweet and sings well and has a higher, lighter voice than most Marii I’ve seen. He’s young! They’re all so young! And I like that Tveit’s Enjolras feels a lot less shouty here ; it's more accurate to Brick descriptions of his interactions with his friends, and reflects his kind of angelic vibe. And I definitely appreciate that Bladgen’s Grantaire’s mocking is a little softer here — he knows a thing or two about impossible love. I do love his little laugh when he says “it is better than an opera.” And that last “they will come when we call” makes me feel things.

21. Do You Hear the People Sing? - Michael Maguire as Enjolras (Original Broadway)

Sometimes you need an angelic Aaron Tveit, and sometimes you need a powerhouse Michael Maguire. Damn.

22. In My Life - Judy Kuhn as Cosette, David Bryant as Marius Pontmercy, Frances Ruffelle as Eponine Thenardier, Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean (Original Broadway)

Kuhn’s Cosette has such a sweet voice, and you can hear her quiet fierce excitement in the beginning. She manages to sing Cosette’s high notes with softness and gentleness really well for the most part, although I’m not that fond of the sound on her “does he know I’m alive? do I know if he’s real?” high notes. Wilkinson’s Valjean seems gentler than some of the others I’ve seen, even on the “no more words” bit, and a lot of his negative emotion seems to be directed inward. Bryant’s Marius is in love, and sounds perhaps a bit too confident and a bit too old for my taste. No, what really stands out here is Frances Ruffelle’s Eponine. God, I love Frances Ruffelle’s Eponine. Starting off strong with that agonized “every word that he says is a dagger in me,” she sounds so young, with an almost-whiny, heartwrenching edge that reminds me the most of her Brick characterization, but she gets so gentle on her last “waiting here.”

23. A Heart Full of Love - Katie Hall as Cosette, Gareth Gates as Marius Pontmercy, Rosalind James as Eponine Thenardier (2010)

This recording picks up with James’ Eponine’s “waiting here,” definitely an interesting comparison. She sounds awesome throughout this piece, with a lovely warm alto voice. And I love love LOVE Katie Hall’s Cosette, with all her strength and sweetness. God, you can hear her smiling. She shines the most when she sings her softest lines, like “no fear, no regret,” “I'm awake,” and the last “after all.” Gates’ Marius is incredibly charming, but still absolutely an awkward mess, and you can hear him dying inside when he says “oh God, for shame, I do not even know your name.” The balance between all three of their voices is perfect.

24. Plumet Attack - Frances Ruffelle as Eponine Thenardier, Bernard Leo Burmester as M. Thenardier (Original Broadway)

Burmester’s Thenardier is properly scary here. Once again Ruffelle’s Eponine steals the show, belting all of her lines perfectly. Her “told you I’d do it” is haunting and perfect and brave in that oh-so-Eponine way, with a hint of petulance.

25. One Day More - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Terrence Mann as Javert, Judy Kuhn as Cosette, Davis Bryant as Marius Pontmercy, Frances Ruffelle as Eponine Thenardier, Bernard Leo Burmester as M. Thenardier, Jennifer Butt as Mme. Thenardier (Original Broadway)

Everyone starts out so soft, and they make this song build so perfectly and balance each other out impeccably. Ruffelle’s Eponine’s “one more day all on my own” bit rises above it all, and her voice sounds so clear and powerful and good. Also did you hear that loud and long “one day more!” out of Wilkinson’s Valjean? And Les Amis’ triumphant swelling chorus? Everyone here is superhuman, I swear.

26. Building the Barricade (Upon These Stones) - Michael Ball as Marius, Kaho Shimada as Eponine Thenardier, Anthony Warlow as Enjolras, Philip Quast as Javert (International Symphonic)

It’s mistitled as “At the Barricade” but I pinky promise it’s not. Ball’s Marius sounds genuinely concerned and touchingly pissed. Shimada’s Eponine is sweet and playful, and her “little you know, little you care” has very little bite, which I’m not sure I like. What I absolutely adore, though, is the bit where she delivers Marius’ letter to Morris’ Valjean. Shimada sounds suddenly shy, and Morris seems in full adopting mode. Something about this exchange just feels incredibly sweet to me. And then when Morris reads Marius’ letter, and his little pause in the “you love me as well” part is perfection.

27. On My Own - Frances Ruffelle as Eponine Thenardier (Original Broadway)

What can I say? Ruffelle’s Eponine absolutely kills it. She has a lovely husky voice that sounds sweet and sad and angry and powerful and broken all at once. I love the way she sings “in the rain, the pavement shines like silver” and “and I know it’s only in my mind, that I’m talking to myself and not to him” and “all my life I’ve only been pretending” and of course that “a world that’s full of happiness that I have never known.” The way she builds up from sweet fantasizing to absolute anguish...and then she breathes out those last “I love him”s and she sounds like the teenager Eponine is. God. I need a moment. Or several.

28. Javert at the Barricade - Terrence Mann as Javert, I can’t find the Gavroche which enrages me to no end (Original Broadway)

Mann’s Javert isn’t as dramatic as I’d like, but I’m here for Gavroche. I do miss the Les Amis dialogue that happens in newer versions of this song, but the older version of this song, which includes a lot more of “Little People” is better in my opinion because it makes Gavroche’s death scene all the sadder. I adore this particular Gavroche’s sassiness and spunk and his powerful voice.

29. A Little Fall of Rain - Frances Ruffelle as Eponine Thenardier, Michael Ball as Marius Pontmercy (Original London)

Ruffelle’s Eponine sounds so utterly vulnerable here, but with a hint of strange almost-happiness that reminds me of the Brick’s version of her death scene. Her voice feels lighter and sweeter here than anything else, and Ruffelle’s Eponine always has a different way of singing when Marius can hear her from how she sings when he can’t, and here we feel them merging together, especially at her “hold me now and let it be, shelter me, comfort me.” And I adore Ball’s Marius softness here, especially during the duet part. His “hush-a-bye, dear Eponine” is angelic. The whole song feels so intimate with them. This is always the point where I start crying.

30. Night of Anguish - Michael Ball as Marius Pontmercy, Anthony Warlow as Enjolras, Gary Morris as Jean Valjean (International Symphonic)

Somber all-around, and everyone’s voice is good. No performer sticks out that much, to be honest. I do get chills whenever the “Drink with Me” theme comes on in the background. And when Jean Valjean comes in, the rising terror of Les Amis becomes apparent, and all their voices are strong.

31. The Attack - David Burt as Enjolras (Original London)

Again, a plot song in between the big ones, so not too much to say here, but everyone sings well.

32. Drink With Me - Aaron Tveit as Enjolras, George Bladgen as Grantaire, Eddie Redmayne as Marius Pontmercy, Daniel Huttlestone as Gavroche Thenardier (2012 movie)

Just to warn you, the sound doesn’t kick in until a few seconds in. I absolutely love this version (once the generous poster re-added Grantaire’s solo, of course). I love Tveit’s Enjolras’ weariness and gentleness at the beginning, reminiscent of Brick Enjolras who loves his friends in his fierce and quiet way. You can hear the heartbreak in his “Marius, rest.” I love how Huttlestone’s Gavroche echoes Les Amis’ lines throughout the chorus — I’ve never seen that in any of the stage productions. And God, Bladgen’s Grantaire. He is so much more earnest here than others I’ve seen, and I appreciate that he gets quiet on “can it be, you fear to die?” as if he’s past defiant anger and is already grieving. He just has a clear, lovely voice. And although it sucks that the movie cut his solo out and it had to be edited in this way, I almost like how faraway it makes this part sound, as if Grantaire is still holed up in the Corinthe with his wine, looking down at his friends, half-awake and helpless. I appreciate that Redmayne’s Marius’ lyric was changed from “Would you weep, Cosette, should Marius fall?” to “Would you weep, Cosette, if I were to fall?” because it sounds a lot more like something someone would actually say. Also, this is another clip with video, and I’m really happy with how it looks, especially the way both Enjolras and Valjean are off to the distance and the way it pans to Valjean when Marius is singing about Cosette.

33. Bring Him Home - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean (10th Anniversary)

Wilkinson’s Valjean starts out so quiet, with the perfect sweet spot of vibrato. Literally all of his high notes sound perfect and still expressive! I almost don’t know what to highlight, but just listen to how he decrescendos on that “I am old, and will be gone” and the power in that “if I die, let me die” and that absolutely ethereal last “bring him home” which he holds for so so long for a note that high for a tenor. This man has the range, darlings.

34. Dawn of Anguish - Anthony Warlow as Enjolras (International Symphonic)

Warlow’s Enjolras absolute grief and tenderness is absolutely heartwrenching. The way he delivers the line “we will not abandon those who cannot hear.” And that little “Drink with Me” reprise feels like getting stabbed. Whenever they end it with “if I die, I die with you” I stop breathing for too many seconds.

35. The Second Attack/Death of Gavroche - Daniel Huttlestone as Gavroche Thenardier, Aaron Tveit as Enjolras, Hadley Fraser as the Army Officer (2012 movie)

Huttlestone’s Gavroche is amazing. You can hear that he’s in pain but not even scared as he sings in a clear, powerful voice. Fraser also killed his “you have no chance, no chance at all” and I’m honestly surprised he didn’t get cast as one of Les Amis. And, of course, Tveit’s Enjolras’ “until the Earth is free!” could have singlehandedly killed King Louis-Philippe.

36. Dog Eats Dog - Bernard Leo Burmester as M. Thenardier (Original Broadway)

Barry James’ Thenardier might be the funniest, but Burmester’s will always be the scariest. His growly tones and big dynamic changes and dramatic enunciation really make this. The breathy way he says “when the gutters run with blood” and his powerful final “the harvest moon shines down” is beyond chilling.

37. Javert’s Suicide - Philip Quast as Javert, Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean (10th Anniversary)

Wilkinson’s Valjean here is the angriest I’ve ever seen his portrayal of the character. There is so much pent-up bitterness in his “I knew you wouldn’t wait too long.” Quast’s Javert is wonderful, as always. In his duet part with Wilkinson, with his half-feral “I will be waiting, two-four-six-oh-one,” both of them shine. And then during his main soliloquy, when he goes from snarling, “it is either Valjean or Javert!” to sounding so soft and lost as he begins the “how can I now allow this man to hold dominion over me?” bit. And at his “by granting me my life today, this man has killed me even so,” you can hear him making his choice to jump, and it’s awful, and it’s perfect.

38. Turning - Original Broadway Cast

Oh, this song is so underrated, and these people do a particularly amazing job with it. Their voices sound so tired and worn, sometimes old and rough, sometimes young and light, and all of them heartbroken. Their “where’s that new world now the fighting’s done” and the way they sing the round section is haunting and beautiful.

39. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables - Eddie Redmayne as Marius Pontmercy (2012 movie)

I have to say, no one does this one like Eddie Redmayne. His Marius’ grief is absolutely crushing. I like how this arrangement goes super light with the instrumentals at first, and how Redmayne’s Marius starts off very soft. His “at the table in the corner” section gives me goosebumps every time, and he nails every single high note. And by the time we reach “phantom faces at the window,” he seems to be letting it out, and his “oh my friends, my friends, don’t ask me what your sacrifice was for” has me sobbing.

40. Every Day/A Heart Full of Love Reprise - Katie Hall as Cosette, Gareth Gates as Marius Pontmercy, John Owen Jones as Jean Valjean (2010)

Ah, Les Mis, killing me with the parallels once again. This version seems to go by awfully fast, but Hall’s Cosette and Gates’ Marius are properly sweet, and JOJ’s Valjean is gentle and sad and heartbreaking. All of their voices balance each other well.

41. Valjean’s Confession - Gary Morris as Jean Valjean, Michael Ball as Marius Pontmercy (International Symphonic)

I really don’t like versions that shorten this; I feel like Jean Valjean needs to be wordy here. In the Brick, he’s almost hysterical. Morris’ Valjean is so gentle, and you can hear the pleading and pain in his voice, on phrases like “she’s had enough of tears” and “to save his sister’s son” and then his voice is so powerful and despairing on “who am I?” and then when it gets soft..yeah I’m not okay. Ball’s Marius’ “it must be so” is pretty, but he doesn’t stick out that much compared to Morris’ powerhouse performance. Also, God the score playing “who am I?” in the background was just cruel. I love it.

42. The Wedding Chorale/Beggars at the Feast - Barry James as M. Thenardier, Gay Soper as Mme. Thenardier, Michael Ball as Mariius Pontmercy (International Symphonic)

James and Soper are just the right Thenardiers for the job. They are clearly having an extremely good time, and I love their sniveling and their scheming and their flamboyance. Ball’s Marius acts very well here too. I love his scoff at “do you think I don’t know who you are?” and his anger on Eponine’s behalf.

43. Finale - Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Randy Graff as Fantine, Frances Ruffelle as Eponine, David Bryant as Marius Pontmercy, Judy Kuhn as Cosette (Original Broadway)

I have no words.

#les mis #les miserables #jean valjean #javert #thenardier #madame thenardier #cosette #cosette fauchelevent #marius pontmercy #eponine #Eponine thenardier #gavroche thenardier #enjolras #grantaire #fantine #les amis #long post if you want it to be #angle o speak

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garbagegutz · 4 years

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your norman with an early pregnant s/o vs. maureen and the cuddling with norman bates h/cs were BEYOND WORDS OF FANTASTIC! i love them with all of my heart and you're a extraordinary writer, i send you all of the good luck and love in the world! i have lots of ideas, but can i please request married to norman bates h/cs? thank you ever so!

Awe thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed it hon! You're such a SWEETHEART omg 🥺🥺 and here you go!

Being Married To Norman Bates Headcanons

• This man, as stated before is SOFT. He absolutely adores any and all domestic moments.

• Working together. You insist that you help around the hotel, despite him saying you don't have to. The two of you often cook meals together and clean together! They're very simple moments but they make you both happy nonetheless.

• Mother. It's no secret Mother doesn't like you all that much. She has tried to attack you a couple of times but Norman somehow manages to snap himself out of it before anything bad happens. Norman is very stubborn when it comes to you and after a while Mother eventually learns to tolerate you. When she comes out though, it's best to hide until Norman is back again.

• Cleaning him up. After Mother leaves there's no doubt going to be a mess left behind. The best you can do for him is help clean him up and give him positive affirmations that you still love him despite what happened.

• Ask and you shall receive. Want breakfast in bed? Bam, done. Want that creepy guy who was hitting on you gone? Norman was planning on getting rid of him anyways! He just wants you to be happy!

• You're not leaving. Not that you'd want to, but honestly don't even consider it. Norman is pretty attentive when it comes to you and he can basically read you like a book. He's sure to freak out. He just loves you so much! You make him so happy!

• Overall you have a very sweet relationship that'll last forever <3

#norman bates x reader #slasher imagine #slashers #slasher community #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #headcanons #cryinggoveryou

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pearlposts · 4 years

Text

The Best of Soft Rock: More Than A Feeling

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Lowdown Boz Scaggs 5:18

Whenever I Call You “Friend” Kenny Loggins 3:18

Piano Man Billy Joel 5:40

Longer Dan Fogelberg 3:18

Miracles Jefferson Starship 3:33

Lost in Love Air Supply 3:55

More Than I Can Say Leo Sayer 3:39

Rosanna Toto 4:03

More Than a Feeling Boston 3:26

Take It on the Run REO Speedwagon 3:37

Make Me Lose Control Eric Carmen 4:48

Total Eclipse of the Heart Bonnie Tyler 5:35

Living Inside Myself Gino Vannelli 4:25

The Flame Cheap Trick 4:50

Sara Starship 4:23

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Livin’ Thing Electric Light Orchestra 3:34

This Is It Kenny Loggins 3:59

Africa Toto 4:59

Eye In The Sky Alan Parsons Project 4:35

Look What You’ve Done to Me Boz Scaggs 5:18

You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling Daryl Hall & John Oates 4:36

All Out Of Love Air Supply 4:03

Can’t Fight This Feeling REO Speedwagon 4:55

The Search Is Over Survivor 4:14

All by Myself Eric Carmen 7:11

Without You Harry Nilsson 3:21

Year of the Cat Al Stewart 6:38

Dust in the Wind Kansas 3:27

Vincent Don McLean 4:01

Please Come to Boston David Loggins 4:09

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Baby I’m-a Want You Bread 2:32

A Horse with No Name America 4:09

Diamond Girl Seals & Crofts 4:04

I Saw the Light Todd Rundgren 3:01

Blinded by the Light Manfred Mann's Earth Band 3:51

It Might Be You Stephen Bishop 4:14

She’s Gone/Sara Smile/Rich Girl Hall & Oates 3:29

Minute By Minute The Doobie Brothers 3:28

Sentimental Lady Bob Welch 3:46

How Much I Feel Ambrosia 4:44

Everybody’s Got To Learn Sometime The Korgis 4:12

If You Leave Me Now Chicago 3:57

Sailing Christopher Cross 4:17

Waiting For A Girl Like You Foreigner 4:52

Against All Odds Phil Collins 3:25

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Ride Like the Wind Christopher Cross 4:32

Saturday in the Park Chicago 3:57

Sister Golden Hair America 3:20

You’re So Vain Carly Simon 4:18

If Bread 2:35

Ooh Baby Baby Linda Ronstadt 2:42

Him Rupert Holmes 3:40

You Are the Woman Firefall 2:45

All I Need Jack Wagner 3:32

Walking In Memphis Marc Cohn 4:19

Making Love Out Of Nothing At All Air Supply 5:01

I Want to Know What Love Is Foreigner 5:00

The Living Years Mike + the Mechanics 5:33

Drive The Cars 3:57

One More Night Phil Collins 4:48

I’ll Be There The Escape Club 4:57

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Summer Breeze Seals & Crofts 3:26

Key Largo Bertie Higgins 3:19

Make It with You Bread 3:12

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? Chicago 3:22

Dream Weaver Gary Wright 4:18

Hello It’s Me Todd Rundgren 3:52

Sara Smile Daryl Hall and John Oates 3:12

Chuck E.’s In Love Rickie Lee Jones 3:28

Black Water The Doobie Brothers 4:16

Still the One Orleans 3:56

Hurt So Bad Linda Ronstadt 3:18

Cool Change Little River Band 4:08

Biggest Part Of Me Ambrosia 5:27

Never Be the Same Christopher Cross 4:41

You Can Do Magic America 3:57

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

The Guitar Man Bread 3:45

Tin Man America 3:27

Wildfire Michael Martin Murphey 4:50

25 or 6 to 4 Chicago 4:52

Lotta Love Nicolette Larson 2:43

What a Fool Believes The Doobie Brothers 2:27

Steal Away Robbie Dupree 3:31

You’re the Only Woman Ambrosia 4:22

Sexy Eyes Dr. Hook 3:00

Kiss You All Over Exile 3:30

Even the Nights Are Better Air Supply 3:59

Arthur’s Theme Christopher Cross 3:55

Dance with Me Orleans 3:21

Beautiful in My Eyes Joshua Kadison 4:10

Black Velvet Alannah Myles 4:48

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

California Dreamin’ The Mamas & The Papas 2:54

Kokomo The Beach Boys 3:36

Ventura Highway America 3:32

Listen to the Music The Doobie Brothers 3:27

I Can See Clearly Now Johnny Nash 2:43

It Never Rains in Southern California Albert Hammond 3:38

Thank You For Being A Friend Andrew Gold 4:45

Everything I Own Bread 3:07

When Will I Be Loved Linda Ronstadt 2:10

I Keep Forgettin’ Michael McDonald 3:41

Baby Come Back Player 2:16

Circle in the Sand Belinda Carlisle 4:27

Hold On Wilson Phillips 3:41

I’ll Be Over You Toto 3:50

Just the Way It Is, Baby The Rembrandts 4:09

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

We Don’t Talk Anymore Cliff Richard 4:13

Baker Street Gerry Rafferty 2:13

When Your in Love with a Beautiful Woman Dr. Hook 2:56

Fool (If You Think It’s Over) Chris Rea 3:33

You’re No Good Linda Ronstadt 3:46

Reminiscing Little River Band 3:17

The Air That I Breathe The Hollies 4:12

Sad Eyes Robert John 1:55

I Go Crazy Paul Davis 5:23

Hearts Marty Balin 4:19

These Dreams Heart 4:17

Jessie Joshua Kadison 4:22

Release Me Wilson Phillips 3:54

The Doctor The Doobie Brothers 3:45

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Maggie May Rod Stewart 5:15

Higher and Higher Rita Coolidge 4:01

Whatcha Gonna Do? Pablo Cruise 4:15

I’m in You Peter Frampton 4:11

Drift Away Dobie Gray 3:56

More Love Kim Carnes 3:37

Babe Styx 4:01

Into The Night Benny Mardones 4:31

It’s a Heartache Bonnie Tyler 3:45

While You See a Chance Steve Winwood 4:06

Show Me the Way Peter Frampton 2:30

Fooled Around and Fell in Love Elvin Bishop 4:37

Lonesome Loser Little River Band 3:54

I’m Not in Love 10 CC 6:07

I Just Wanna Stop Gino Vannelli 3:37

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Daniel Elton John 3:53

I Need You America 3:07

I Can Dream About You Dan Hartman 4:11

Escape Rupert Holmes 3:54

I’d Really Love to See You Tonight England Dan & John Ford Coley 2:38

On and On Stephen Bishop 3:01

Tempted Squeeze 4:01

The Things We Do For Love 10 CC 3:31

The Best of Times Styx 4:18

Cry Godley and Creme 3:55

Your Wildest Dreams The Moody Blues 4:51

Higher Love Steve Winwood 5:46

More Than Words Extreme 5:36

I’d Do Anything for Love Meat Loaf 5:17

Do You Feel Like We Do Peter Frampton 7:20

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

So In to You Atlanta Rhythm Section 4:23

Fly, Robin, Fly Silver Connection 3:50

Sentimental Lady Bob Welch 3:46

Show And Tell Al Wilson 3:29

Wild Flower The New Birth 3:59

Delta Dawn Helen Reddy 3:09

American Pie Don McLean 8:35

Rock Me Gently Andy Kim 3:29

Go All The Way The Raspberries 3:22

Mr. Big Stuff Jean Knight 2:49

Oh Babe, What Would You Say Hurricane Smith 3:26

Hooked On A Feeling Blue Swede 2:53

Having My Baby Paul Anka 2:33

Last Song Edward Bear 3:13

The Streak Ray Stevens 3:18

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Rhinestone Cowboy Glen Campbell 3:16

Too Late To Turn Back Now Cornelius Brothers And Sister Rose 3:20

Boogie Fever The Sylvers 3:30

Reminiscing Little River Band 3:17

I Just Want To Celebrate Rare Earth 2:54

One Bad Apple The Osmonds 2:43

Have You Never Been Mellow Olivia Newton-John 3:33

Magic Pilot 3:05

Boogie Oogie Oogie A Taste of Honey 3:38

Right Back Where We Started From Maxine Nightingale 3:15

Sad Eyes Robert John 1:55

Gonna Fly Now Bill Conti 2:48

My Sharona The Knack 4:02

You Sexy Thing Hot Chocolate 4:05

Puppy Love Donny Osmond 3:06

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Love Train The O'Jays 2:58

Knock Three Times Dawn 2:55

Brandy Looking Glass 3:04

Little Willy Sweet 3:12

Baby Don’t Get Hooked on Me Mac Davis 3:06

Take Me Home, Country Roads John Denver 3:13

It Never Rains in Southern California Albert Hammond 3:38

Brand New Key Melanie 2:26

Come and Get Your Love Redbone 3:32

More. More, More (Part 1) Andrea True Connection 3:02

I Can See Clearly Now Johnny Nash 2:43

Everybody Plays the Fool The Main Ingredient 3:22

Indian Reservation Paul Revere & The Raiders 2:52

The Cover of “Rolling Stone” Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show 2:55

When Will I See You Again The Three Degrees 3:00

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Rich Girl Daryl Hall and John Oates 2:23

Lady Marmalade LaBelle 3:21

Best of My Love The Emotions 3:41

Fire The Pointer Sisters 3:28

Miracles Jefferson Starship 3:33

You Make Me Feel Like Dancing Leo Sayer 2:51

Here You Come Again Dolly Parton 2:58

Disco Lady Johnnie Taylor 4:25

Saturday Night Bay City Rollers 2:56

Rock On David Essex 3:26

Wildfire Michael Martin Murphey 4:50

You Take My Breath Away Rex Smith 3:15

I Go Crazy Paul Davis 5:23

Stumblin’ In Suzi Quatro and Chris Norman 3:31

Torn Between Two Lovers Mary MacGregor 3:44

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Bad, Bad Leroy Brown Jim Croce 3:00

Don’t Pull Your Love Hamilton, Joe Frank & Reynolds 2:41

Love Will Keep Us Together Captain and Tennille with Neil Sedaka 3:24

Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song B.J. Thomas 3:22

She’s A Lady Tom Jones 2:51

How Do You Do? Mouth & MacNeal 4:07

Black and White Three Dog Night 3:51

Escape Rupert Holmes 3:54

Drift Away Dobie Gray 3:56

It’s a Love Beat The DeFranco Family 3:09

I’m in You Peter Frampton 4:11

The Candy Man Sammy Davis, Jr. 3:10

Spiders & Snakes Jim Stafford 3:05

Billy, Don’t Be A Hero Bo Donaldson and the Heywoods 3:40

The Morning After Maureen McGovern 2:20

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves Cher 2:36

Maggie May Rod Stewart 5:15

Baby Come Back Player 2:16

I Just Wanna Stop Gino Vannelli 3:37

Jackie Blue Ozark Mountain Daredevils 3:37

Higher And Higher Rita Coolidge 4:01

I’m Not in Love 10 CC 6:07

Y.M.C.A. Village People 3:45

Will It Go Round in Circles Billy Preston 3:46

I Just Want to Be Your Everything Andy Gibb 3:44

Do You Wanna Make Love Peter McCann 4:01

Signs Five Man Electrical Band 4:02

Disco Duck Rick Dees 3:14

Montego Bay Bobby Bloom 2:55

If I Can’t Have You Yvonne Elliman 3:00

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Play That Funky Music Wild Cherry 3:16

One Toke Over the Line Brewer & Shipley 3:21

Afternoon Delight Starland Vocal Band 3:14

Life is a Rock Reunion 3:31

I Can Help Billy Swan 2:57

My Maria B.W. Stevenson 2:31

Magnet and Steel Walter Egan 3:25

Beach Baby First Class 2:42

The Rapper The Jaggerz 2:45

Brother Louie Stories 3:57

Precious and Few Climax 2:46

O-o-h Child The 5 Stairsteps 3:15

Playground in My Mind Clint Holmes 2:57

Put Your Hand In The Hand Ocean 2:53

Please Come to Boston David Loggins 4:09

SONG TITLE ARTIST TIME

Turn The Beat Around Vicki Sue Robinson 3:24

Ring My Bell Anita Ward 3:31

Sometimes When We Touch Dan Hill 2:22

Rose Garden Lynn Anderson 2:49

In The Summertime Mungo Jerry 3:37

Seasons in the Sun Terry Jacks 3:30

The Night Chicago Died Paper Lace 3:32

Rock The Boat Hues Corporation 3:09

Don’t Give Up on Us David Soul 3:39

Kung Fu Fighting Carl Douglas 3:17

Love Grows Edison Lighthouse 2:51

Sweet Mary Wadsworth Mansion 2:42

The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia Vicki Lawrence 3:36

TSOP MFSB featuring the Three Degrees 3:35

Feelings Morris Albert 3:45

#ignore me #manic mania activities #gonna make a playlist later

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umbraastaff · 5 years

Text

I’ve just been thinking--it’s about time I make a proper index for my TAZ fics, huh? Also contains: mini-series, ficlets, goof posts, and lyric comics.

(All of the fics are rated G, or T at most for McElroy-appropriate language.)

FICS

I Saw Seven Bounties | Canon Compliant, Enemies to Friends, Complete | Mostly lighthearted, episodic recounting of Kravitz and Barry’s rivalry throughout those first twelve years on Faerun. 24K. -->Extras: Lich Eyes, Fantasy Starbucks, Alt POV for Chapter 1 & Chapter 5, Sorry

They Say Fire Took Phandalin | Small-town supernatural/sorta-haunted-house AU | Fresh out of grad school, Barry Bluejeans takes a job and a house in the rural nowhere-town of Phandalin. And it’s not like he thought fitting in would be a walk in the park, but the people there all act really weird, and it’s almost like they’re expecting something of him, too. 11K/~20K.

What Can’t Be Done Alone (Detective Squad) | Canon Divergent, Found Family, Fluff | AU where the voidfish works a little better, and Angus never finds the Bureau. Instead, he finds a strange lich in a cave, and he most certainly continues to work this case and not gradually get adopted instead. 18K/~22K. -->Extras: Drangus AU Oneshot

If I Wanted to be Funny I’d Name This Fic “The Time Belt” | Futuristic sci-fi AU feat. time travel | Taako meets the only people in years who recognize the Institute’s name. Known time criminal Barry Bluejeans continues to evade law enforcement. 2K/??.

Overgrowth / Undercurrent | Roleswap AU, Johnchurch, Pining, Twoshot, Happy ending optional | Overgrowth is a oneshot that follows John, the Starblaster’s chief diplomat, through a series of parleys with Merle, the center of the plane-consuming mass of plants that’s been chasing his crew. Undercurrent is a sequel about their post-canon reunion. 4K + 6K. --> Extras: PLAYLIST by @merle-casts-zone-of-truth

Davenport Remembers | Post-canon, Oneshot | Davenport meets with his crew members to try to reconcile his anger with Lucretia, or to decide whether he should. 1.5K.

MINI-SERIES

AU Where Taako is a Lich - Pretty much what it says on the tin here, folks!

Baritz (ask series) - A fusion of Barry and Kravitz, who took over my blog and answered asks for a while. (He originated in the Gallows/S&S lyric comic.)

Good Adventures (Good Omens crossover) - The Antichrist’s wishes summon the wrong boatful of aliens. Thankfully, it seems they’re apocalypse experts. [with plot-ideas help from @avijohann.]

Omen Zone (Good Omens crossover 2) - Barry is a demon. Kravitz is an angel. Kravitz probably won’t ever admit that they’re friends.

Pokémon: Century Version (Pokémon crossover) - Stolen Century AU where they’re all pokémon trainers. Faerun spin-off: Double Trouble

Till Death, Don’t Let’s Start - Barry fucks up. Kravitz is present.

Very Normal Blog Posts (ask series) - In which Garfield is not at all dangerous, and I am perfectly fine. <alt: chronological link - desktop only>

COMICS & ART

Gallows/Steady and Stronger (Double lyric comic) - Canon-divergent AU where, as the world is ending, Barry gives up to Kravitz. [Image description version]

[Lyric Comics] - Other, shorter lyric comics based on single verses of songs.

Dear Scientist’s Log (series) - Illustrated ship logs from Barry J. Bluejeans.

Movie Madness (Comic) - Barry obsesses over the unforgivable.

Palette Prompts (Arts) - Art from art meme prompts.

Pregananant (goof comic) - You know the one.

REAPER (Comic) - Baritz fuses with Lup.

These Jeans? (Animatic) - Barry advertises jeans.

They’re Both Tessa Thompson (Comic) - Lucretia has a nightmare. Barry reassures her.

War (Goof comic) - prompt: "taakitz with CAT”

What’s bigger than this? - The Red Robe.

FICLETS

Back Soon - Kravitz leaves a note with unfortunate wording.

Bodyswap: Barry & Davenport - During Wonderland.

Casual - AU where the red robe talks like a normal person.

Command - Barry misuses his magic.

Davenport - There’s something unsettling about that butler.

Hangin’ Out - Lup and Magnus.

Harvest - Roleswap AU: Barry is the Hunger.

Healing Necromancy - Merle tries to teach Barry some tricks.

Hope - Barry knows she’s still out there.

How Long? - Taako is frustrated.

In Pieces - The staff.

Liches Forget Too - AU.

Lucretia Forgets - In which there was a mistake with the voidfish ichor.

Lup’s Robe - Gifts from Taako.

Mourning Glories - The flowers in Merle’s beard.

New Years - Celebrations and fears.

Parole - Barry and Kravitz bonding hours.

Phone a Friend - Baritz (the fusion from Gallows/S&S) meets Angus.

Raising the Dead - Barry has to use his crew members’ corpses. [sequel]

Robbie...? - Magnus breaks into the brig immediately after Petals to the Metal.

Second Apocalypse - Based on that one party liveshow. What was the rest of the crew doing, again?

3 Sentence Fics - Pairing + AU prompts.

Smartstone - Lup gets stuck in a Stone of Far Speech, instead.

Stir Crazy - Barry waiting for a new body to grow. Thoughts of Lucretia.

Writing Things Down - In case you forget (again).

You Remember - Taako remembers.

PROMINENT GOOFS

Barry’s Dead - But he’s fine! Calm down!

Character Development - Joke’s on you, DM!

Crystal Kingdom - An absolutely bonkers arc.

Dealer - Merle pun.

Decapitate Me - for making this post

Don’t Care - Taako during the finale. [bonus]

Epilogue - Bracer struggles. [bonus: 1, 2]

Explain the Hunger (Good Omens crossover) - Magnus explains the hunger to Aziraphale and Crowley. They react in varying ways. [with cursed art contributions from @avijohann and @mspainttaz]

Fifteen Dollars - Plus interest. [Bonus]

Fullmetal Kingdom - They’re the same, right?

Gender - And lack of roles.

Gnomes Don’t Exist - They’re all aliens, actually.

Hot Diggity Shit - Been a while.

Icon Confusion - The saga of people thinking my icon is a carrot. [chrono link - desktop only]

Incomprehensible Denim - Jeff Angel’s illegal pants.

In Case it Changes Anything - Taako, Kravitz, and lies.

Irresponsible Teens - Magnus and Lucretia get into trouble.

I Saw Seven Nerds - That’s the post.

Gogurt - Taako’s crimes.

Learning to Drive - i.e. Barry & Davenport Bonding(?) Hours.

Live Shows - The general mood.

Lucretia’s Efforts - A proper meme? On my TAZ blog?

Lup Said No Thanks - That time Magnus was in a tree.

Magnus’ Death - So many close calls.

Nearest Middle-Aged Woman - Clint’s characters’ friends.

Necromancy? - You must be mistaken!

Ned’s Aliases - The Truth.

Pirate Debt - Davenport during that one liveshow.

Punch Squad - SQUAD!

Reaper Cloak - Thoughts.

Relic Names - She probably changed them.

Responsible Necromancy - Good and bad ideas.

Resume - It’s not like they thought it would be relevant.

Schools of Magic - And the Sash was what, again?

Self Care - Respect the dead, please.

Server Shenaniganry (art) - TAAKO THE CAT, NO!

Soulmate AU - Where your soulmate’s greatest enemy is on your wrist. [alt]

Stern’s Truth - You Know.

Taako’s Last Name - Taako’s last name.

Team Composition - The post where everyone wants to argue with me about what qualifies as a wizard.

Third Option - Taako saves the day.

You’re Laughing - End of Suffering Game.

THEORIES/MECHANICS/THOUGHTS

Aloof - Holes Taako refuses to fill.

Barry’s Lucky Possessee - Graphic novel theory hopes & dreams.

Catpiling - Stolen Century thought.

Davenport’s Deaths - Sucks when you always wake up driving.

Death Leaves a Mark - Stolen Century AU concept.

Everyone Else - Some people didn’t get perfect endings.

Fantasy Nonsense - lore about the word “fantasy,” as in “Jesus Fantasy Christ.”

Fragments - Magnus’ memory.

Forgiveness - Old post about the crew’s thoughts on Lucretia’s actions.

Forgot to Erase - Lucretia’s errors.

FULL TIMELINE POST - the Balance timeline.

Gauntlet - (disproven!) Theory about the final relic, from before it was confirmed in the show.

Gnome Nicknames - Thoughts on Cap’nport.

High School AU - Some old headcanons.

Home World Names - The pattern in surnames (or lack thereof) on the IPRE’s homeworld.

Hour - This isn’t a thought so much as an Actual Thing That Magnus Said before the time loops had started, which is absurd.

Idiots in Love - The IPRE’s collective braincell was lost for all of Legato. [2]

Liches, Alone - Being stuck as raw emotion for an awfully long time.

Losing Julia - And subsequent developments.

Love - What was remembered and forgotten.

Love Without Fear - Thoughts on bonds during the Stolen Century.

Memory - Barry actually shouldn’t have remembered anything.

Nickname - Memory of Lup.

Paladin Barry Theory - Converging evidence on Barry’s multiclassing.

Paradox AU - blueprint for 8th, 9th, 10th, etc. Bird AU of your choice(s). (Extra)

Phylactery Mechanics - How liches differ.

Produce Flame - Mechanics of John killing Merle.

Recklessness - THB’s actions recontextualized.

Relic Schools of Magic - They don’t have them!!!

Relicswap AU - Where all the birds get swapped out.

Seven Birds as Gods - Ask-prompt thoughts.

Staring at the Sun - The birds and their light sensitivity.

Story, Song, & Sorcery - Effects on the young population.

Sword Tornado - Magnus Mechanics. [bonus: Time Warlock]

The Good Place AU - A series of crossover thoughts.

Tree Climbing - Davenport shenanigans.

Unique Magic Types - [and combo styles]

What Killed Maureen - hint: it wasn’t Fisher.

#the adventure zone #taz balance #mine #index #there were a fair few in here that id forgotten about too!#god i hope i didnt mess up any of these links

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paulvibe · 5 years

Text

The Assistant (Paul McCartney x Reader) Pt. 5

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy (if dat bothers you)

A/N: I’m not a nurse or doctor by any means, so I apologize if any of the information isn’t accurate. this is a fan fiction, not everything is going to be completely true or real. With that note, thank you and enjoy <3

October 1968

Four weeks and 6 days later, your menstrual cycle hadn’t come. You’d been expecting it only a week after you and Paul had sex; yet, it seems her train is incredibly late to the station. You’d called the doctor last week in a panic, however they couldn’t find an opening until Thursday; two days away. Then you’d really know if you were expecting, or if it just happens to be a freak thing. You hoped it was the latter.

Ever since that night you’d been avoiding Paul, on top of Klein watching you like a hawk. All because of that stupid breakfast you let Paul talk you in to. You felt it was ridiculous-- Klein's behavior-- it's been over a month since then and he was still acting like a boob. Maybe he just didn’t like Paul, I mean the battle for a new manager was an intense one. Between Paul wanting Linda’s father, and the other three wanting Allen Klein solely because the bass player didn’t want him. Since that event, Klein has had a vendetta out for Paul.

As for today, Ringo had asked you to come to his estate for business. You hoped it was going to be a simple day; all of the stress you’d been gathering over the last month probably wasn’t healthy, and to be honest, you really needed a break. You arrived at his home shortly after eleven this morning, greeted by two rambunctious boys and a very tired Maureen in the kitchen.

“Good morning, love.” You gave a reassuring smile to the woman as you took off your coat. She blew a chunk of fallen hair from her face and smiled back at you.

“Hi Darling, Richard is in his study.” She spoke softly, preparing lunch for the boys. You nodded at her in response, loving the fact she never called Ringo by his nickname, and continued on your way to the man's study. Once there, you knocked on the door and entered the room.

“How’re you?” Ringo asked while sitting at his desk and shuffling through some papers. The drummer’s home was beautiful. His office was large, he’d had bookshelves built in and a fireplace sat against the opposite wall. Tall windows let in natural light and white curtains donned them. Two armchairs sat in the corner near the shelves and a small table between them with a lamp.

“I’m alright.” You answered, sitting down as well. Although you were not feeling alright. Actually, your brain was on a meltdown due to the possibility of being pregnant, and all you wanted to do was scream to release some tension. Ringo glanced at your face after you answered, sensing something wasn’t right. He raised a brow but you looked away from him, and down into your purse pulling out your notebook. The drummer has always treated you the sweetest, he almost acted like an older brother; without the relentless teasing.

“So, we’ve got a few meetings, and I need you to book some solo studio time.” He responded, jumping right into the topics for the day. “I also need to buy flowers for Maureen while we’re out.” The man leaned back in his desk chair and sighed softly, looking around the room.

“What kind of flowers?” You responded, pen in hand.

“Let’s do roses.” He spoke. You finished writing the notes down, then looked back up at the man. He was studying a few papers on his desk. Ringo looked tired, he must've felt the pressure of the upcoming concert. The boys had decided to do one last show, but as of right now it was still three months in the future, and they didn’t know where to hold it. There was also the strain of playing live after months and months of not.

Ringo and you left to his meetings after an hour at his home. You’d played with the boys after they had their lunch, as well as took care of a few business calls while you were at it, then you and the drummer took off. The two of you currently sat in the backseat while Ringo’s driver, Bill, drove you. In a different car, Ringo’s bodyguards trailed behind as for a little protection; They showed up to the man’s house right before you took off.

As you sat in the car, your mind couldn’t help but wander off. You drove by a few beautiful, newly built homes on your way causing visions of you and Paul with a small child to come to thought. The bassist was playing with the child while you sat on a couch, enjoying the moment. You could hear laughter and music, which resulted in a warm feeling to overcome your stomach. ‘Maybe a baby wouldn’t be so bad’ Your conscious gently whispered. Of course, the image in your head was overly romanticized compared to the true reality of having a child.

You were brought back to reality by Ringo repeating your name. You quickly looked at the man who had a gaze of concern splashed across his face.

“Are you alright, darling?” He asked softly. Subconsciously your arms wrapped themselves around your stomach as a quick thought of the possible pregnancy raced across your mind.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I didn’t get enough sleep last night.” You lied with a dismissal shake of your head. Ringo furrowed his brows, but didn’t press more. He did, however, give you a second, possible third, glance before focusing on a different topic. Sure, he’d changed the discussion, but you still felt a tightness in your chest. ‘Two more days, (Y/N), two more.’ Your brain gently repeated, then you’d know for sure. It was truly the unknown that was making you anxious. There are so many options you have to consider once you do know. Will you tell Paul? Or just have an illegitimate pregnancy. Would Paul even want to be involved? He seemed pretty occupied with his career and Linda. What about your own career? Will you have to quit and find something else? Will you even have enough money to support you and a baby? As of right now you made splendid money working as the boys assistant, but The Beatles aren’t going to last forever. There were so many open ends, it made you physically ill. Or maybe that’s just the morning sickness kicking in.

Ringo and you arrived to a random office building you’d never been to before. Bill got out and opened the door. The drummer climbed out first, then held a hand for you to grab so he could assist you. Ringo’s body guards then showed up behind the man, keeping an eye for crazed fans. The press must've gotten word about where the Beatle was going to be, because flashes started to blind you as you two entered the building.

The entry to the building was large, an elevator and door to the stairs was on one side of the wall. Near it sat a little water fountain on a buffet table with flowers on each side. A single, quite ugly, rug lay from the entrance all the way to the end of the foyer where the main floor offices began. A little reception desk was right near the door and a small, older woman sat behind it. Her hair was styled in a bouffant with a bow tucked neatly between her bangs and poof. She donned glasses as well as, a colorful button up dress.

“Mr. Starkey! We’ve been expecting you.” The receptionist spoke, after seeing you guys enter. She quickly stood up from behind her desk, holding several papers in her arms. The woman guided you and the drummer to the elevators, then after that to the office Ringo was expected in.

After a full day of meetings, Ringo and you currently sat at a quiet restaurant a few miles away from the man’s homestead. It’s a small joint Ringo frequents a lot, especially with Maureen and the boys. The locals didn’t really care that he was a Beatle, so they paid him no mind. The interior of the building was a little boring, basic tables and chairs covered the floor. There was a small host desk where the register sat and an older lady was waiting behind it. Cheap art was hung on the walls for added flavor next to the kitchen door.

“I am right tired.” The drummer commented, taking a sip from a beer he’d ordered. You sighed, watching him drink. You’d kill to get to enjoy a beer.

“I know how you feel.” You responded, gently sipping your water. The ambiance of the small restaurant covered your silence for a few minutes. Glasses and silverware could be heard clinking, as well as the quiet murmur of people talking. Ringo studied you for a moment, sensing something was bothering you.

“(Y/N), you’re worrying me, lass.” He commented, leaning more towards your figure. You sighed and looked down to your lap. So, it really was that obvious how bothered you were right now. ‘Maybe it’ll feel better to tell somebody,’ your conscious spoke. You bit the inside of your cheek, before taking a deep breath.

“Ringo I-,” You paused, taking in a deep breath. Ringo has acted like an older brother to you, ever since you got hired; he was sweet, gentle worded, and kind. You didn’t know if it was because the other boys nearly tore you apart with their needs and demands when you first started, and he felt you needed a break, or what. Whatever the reason, it felt nice to have at least one ally.

“Go on, love.” He added. You were silent for a moment before you spoke up.

“This is a big secret, okay? You can’t tell anyone.” The man’s eyebrows shot up after your comment. He then nodded his head, urging you to continue.

“Alright, here it goes… P-Paul and I slept together over a month ago,” You paused again, looking at Ringo. He had a shocked look on his face, but tried to brush it off as to not wary you. “And, I’m… I’m… late.” You whispered the last word, leaning forward. Ringo twisted his head in confusion, but then figured it out as he let out a gentle ‘ah’.

“Does the lad know?” He then asked. You shook your head ‘No’ and held it in shame. Ringo’s hand began to rub the side of your arm as a comforting gesture. “It’ll be alright, love. Do you know for sure?”

“I have an appointment Thursday. I already asked Klein for the day off.” You answered the man. He was about to speak, but the waitress carried out your meals. She placed them onto the table, asked the basic questions, then walked off. You began to eat, Ringo as well; however, he kept a concerned expression every time you two made eye contact.

“Are you going alone?” He asked quietly, genuine emotion laced his tone. You shrugged your shoulders in defeat.

“Well, yeah. I don’t have any family in the city, no girl friends...” You furrowed your brows, “Oh my god, you guys are my closest friends… My bosses are my best mates.” The last part came out in a whisper.

“Well, that’s alright, love. I enjoy your company.” Ringo let out a chuckle, despite the mood being low. His little laugh, without fail, caused a small smile to cross your face.

The moment passed however, and the mood turned somber again as you continued to eat. You two sat in the ambiance for a while, finishing out your meals. Ringo flagged for the check, paid, and then you two left. His bodyguards escorted you to the car, even though hardly anyone was around. Once in the vehicle, Bill turned on the radio to drown out the silence.

“Oh, we’ve got to get Maureen’s flowers.” You commented, looking at your little notebook.

“Bill, take us to that flower shop on seventh ave.” Ringo spoke up, then thanked you for reminding him. You quietly sorted through a few papers Ringo had gotten from his meetings, organizing and highlighting important sections, while the drummer looked out of the window. The beautiful countryside whizzed passed, though it's turned brown and dead for Autumn.

“Are you really doing this on your own, (Y/N)? Are you going to tell Paul?” The drummers voice came out barely above a whisper. You set down the materials in your hands and looked at him. His droopy blue eyes gazed at yours, full of care.

“There’s nobody else,” You answered quietly. “And, I don’t know yet.”

“He deserves to know.” Ringo deadpanned. You sighed, knowing he was right and bit the inside of your cheek.

“I’ll tell him when I’m comfortable, and I don’t know when that’ll be…” You finished, looking back down into your lap. Ringo sensed your pain and pulled your head so it was resting on his shoulder. You accepted the embrace, enjoying the company of another warm body. You hadn’t felt that since… Paul.

“I’m going to send Maureen with you to your appointment.” The man said gently. You sat up off his shoulder to respond.

“No, Ringo, really. It’s alright, I’ll go alone.” You fought. Why did you want to do this on your own so bad anyways? Maybe it came from your parents pressuring you to be independent. Ever since you were little, they’d always told you to do things on your own. You paid for college alone, you bought your first car alone and now this was a new challenge to face on your own.

“She’s been through this twice now darling, please. It’s alright to have help.” His mellow words caressed your chest, and you felt the tightness release a little. You paused before answering.

“Okay.” It was the quietest you’d been the whole conversation. Ringo nodded, rubbing the back of your hand as comfort.

TWO DAYS LATER

You arrived to the Starkey residence three hours before your appointment. You thanked the cabbie, and shakily closed the door. You felt a shiver up your spine from the cool November air as you walked up to their door, and knocked. A subtle ‘Come in!’ sounded from inside, and you slowly entered the house. Maureen must've been expecting you. As soon as you walked through the foyer, a blonde mass of hair startled you by giving you a hug. Her warm, motherly embrace caused a small smile to form across your face as you hugged her back.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked softly, pulling away but keeping her hands on your arms.

“Nervous.” You responded, shedding off your jacket and hanging it on a coat rack next to the door. The woman nodded, and rubbed your back while guiding you two to the kitchen. She had you sit at the counter while she set a kettle on the stove top. You couldn’t hear anyone else in the home, causing you to wonder if she’d gotten a babysitter for the day.

“Where is everyone?” You asked Maureen quietly. The woman handed you a cup of water before answering.

“Richard is at the studio, and I sent the boys to their Nana’s for the day.” You nodded and took a small sip from the glass. Maureen studied you for a moment, remembering how she felt with her first pregnancy, Zak. She was scared, of course, but at least she had Ringo. She couldn’t help but feel a minor amount of pity. Another poor girl hurt by Paul, so many come and gone.

“Must be nice to have some quiet time, yeah?” You asked her, fidgeting with the glass.

“Yes, but after a few hours I start to miss them.” She nodded, with a laugh added. You stayed silent for a while in contemplation. Your nerves wouldn’t let your body calm down, no matter how many deep breaths you took. Your mind was racing as the fate of your future depended on this appointment. The kettle began to whistle, and Maureen quickly took it off the stove. She grabbed two tea cups, filled them with water, then added tea bags. She slid one over to you with a warm smile.

“Have you felt morning sickness yet?” She murmured after taking a sip.

“No, not yet.” You responded, also taking a sip. Thank god, ‘not yet’.

“I didn’t feel it until my 8th week with Zak.” She spoke softly, smiling at a picture of her first born on the wall. “You’re still pretty early into your pregnancy, love?” She added.

“Yeah, I hit 5 weeks yesterday.” You responded. Your hand rested on your stomach, though there wasn’t any change to it.

“Enjoy these beginning stages. Like when your boobs come in before the rest of the bunch. Richie didn’t leave me alone for days.” Maureen laughed, causing you to chuckle as well. Maybe Paul would relish a larger cup size to… enjoy. Maybe he would pay attention to you more.

You and Maureen chatted for a bit more and finished your tea before heading to the hospital. The ride over was an anxious one, even the decaying-- for winter-- countryside couldn’t distract your mind. Nor the radio that the Starkey’s second driver, Ted, had turned on. Maureen would occasionally give you a reassuring pat, or rub on your arm and then smile when you gave her attention.

Once you arrived at the hospital, you two found the maternity ward and Maureen helped you check in with the front desk receptionist. You then sat in the waiting room, filling out a clipboard explaining the reason behind your visit. A few other women waited as well, one was really pregnant- she must’ve been nearly there- and the others seemed only a few months in. Cheesy waiting room music played over some speakers which was accompanied by murmured voices, telephones ringing, and magazine pages flipping. Maureen reassuringly patted your leg, while picking up a magazine herself. Your nerves were really beginning to build now, and a tight tension could be felt across your chest.

After about a twenty minute wait, your name was finally called. Maureen gave you a reassuring pat, encouraging you to go by yourself. The nurse gave you a warm smile as you stood up and approached her. She seemed like an older woman, donning a typical nurses uniform-- a knee length white dress with a little cap-- Her hair was tied neatly into a bun and she held a clipboard with a pen.

“Good morning, how’re you today?” She asked softly, leading you back to a private exam room.

“I’m alright, just a little nervous.” You responded with a hesitant chuckle.

“How come?” She asked politely, gesturing for you to sit on the exam table.

“Well, you know why I’m here.” You said in a quieter tone. She glanced over the clipboard in her hand, and then nodded with a quiet, ‘ah’.

“I have three lovely children, two girls and one boy.” Her face warmed up as the thought of her children crossed her thoughts. You sighed a little, wanting to be as excited as she. Why did this scare you so much? I mean, there were plenty of reasons, but you wanted to be excited. You wanted to be okay with what was happening, and your future. Maybe different circumstances could cause a mood change.

“How old?” You asked as the nurse began to take your vitals. She started by getting your temperature, then blood pressure.

“My oldest is 15, my middle is 11, and my youngest is 9.” The nurse answered, never wavering a smile from her face. “Is this your first?” She then added while guiding you to the scale to gather your weight and height.

“Yes, it is.” You murmured, feeling butterflies gently flutter around your stomach.

“I remember how scary it was.” She sympathized, giving you a reassuring look. She then grabbed an empty cup with a screw on lid and handed it to you. “Fill this up to the line as best you can.”

You nodded and the nurse led you to a nearby restroom. You quickly did you business and then returned back to the exam room where she was waiting. She grabbed the sample from you and placed it onto a tray.

“We should know within a few hours, if not today then tomorrow.” She spoke softly. Her face gave you a warm, motherly glance as she gently placed her hand on your arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. You nodded, biting the side of your cheek to distill yourself of nerves.

“Thank you,” You responded, giving her an uneasy grin in response.

“Whoever did this to you should realize what he’s putting you through, darling. I can sense how upset you are.” The nurse spoke quietly, leading you back out to the waiting room. You felt a bit taken aback by her comment but shrugged it off, knowing she was only trying to be helpful.

“Thank you again,” You spoke, once out into the waiting room. The nurse smiled and gave you a nod before exiting behind a door. You took a deep breath and spotted Maureen, walking over to the woman. She gave you a big smile with two thumbs up as you approached her.

You didn’t get the call until the next day. You’d been waiting anxiously by the phone all morning, hoping they’d ring before you had to leave for the studio. Just before you were about to leave is when the news was broke to you, you dashed across your apartment and swiftly picked up the phone out of breath. You were pregnant.

---------------------------

A/N: hi thanks for reading <3

here is my Master List and Part 6

#paul mccartney fanfic #paul mccartney fanfiction #paul mccartney x reader #the beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles x reader

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mypassionfortrash · 5 years

Text

Do More of What Scares You: Parts 3 & 4 of 11

Roger is determined to help you overcome your anxiety in any way he can. Although he means well, all he seems to do is make everything worse. Can you make it work?

In these chapters, your anxiety gets the better of you when you and Roger sleep together for the first time, and when he goes off to America on tour for two months. Sensing your worry, he makes you an offer you’re not sure you can accept.

◾️ Read parts 1 and 2 here! ◾️

Pairing: Roger x f!reader Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, lots of talk about anxiety. These parts are very smutty! Notes: I’m rewriting my old series’ from ‘BoRhapRogerina’ ahead of finishing them for NaNoWriMo this year. Feedback is always appreciated!

[3/11]

Roger sat in silence beside you, waiting out the rest of the journey home. The date had gone so well until you got behind the wheel.

He liked to talk.

And you needed to concentrate.

You didn’t want either of you ending the evening in a ditch, so you told him to quieten down. Nicely, of course.

He looked like a kicked puppy, shooting you a pained glance that tugged at your heartstrings and made you second guess yourself.

But, your mouth dried up. If you attempted to choke out an apology, those words might stick in your throat.

Roger wouldn’t hear it if you tried; to him, you could do no wrong.

You knew that.

Nearing town, the streetlights lit you up like an angel beside him.

You were so consumed by overthinking the situation, that you hadn’t realised that Roger had been making doe eyes at you the rest of the way home.

How were you to know? Yours were on the road as you hunched over the steering wheel. Ready to react to anything that came between you and your flat.

Turning on to your street, you found it still bustling. Half drunk neighbours and their kids sat on the low walls outside their homes, cracking open stout bottles of beer.

“Nearly there,” you sighed, the relief evident in your tone. Your hand rested on the gearshift, working the car down to a halt outside your place. There was a quiet between you and Roger.

The pair of you stared straight ahead. Neither could bear to break the awkward silence. Saying the wrong thing was a clear possibility here.

“Well,” you began, wringing your hands together in your lap, “goodnight.”

Half way out the driver’s seat, you felt Roger pull at the back of your dress.

“Wait, please.”

Glaring at him, you sat back down.

He wasn’t looking at you. Anything but you. His shoulders rose and fell steadily. His lips parted and then caught between his teeth.

“Roger? Is this about-”

Roger shook his head, smiling. “No. No it’s not.”

You reached out and took his hand. It was cold and damp.

“I had such an amazing day with you,” he sighed. “I like you…I really like you.”

You huffed in relief. “Thank goodness for that.”

Looking like a drowned rat beside him - makeup smeared and your hair falling into your eyes - he chuckled at the sight. He reached out to tuck it behind your ears. “Sorry if that scared you. I have a habit of being a bit too dramatic. And I don’t tend to go in for…” Roger tilted his head from side to side, searching for the rest of his sentence. “You know,” he leaned in close to you, whispering, “feelings.”

The last part of that announcement was wasted on you. Roger seemed to think he had done a bang up job of covering up his softer side as he laughed to himself. But his face fell just as quick realising you were gazing at a point beyond his shoulder.

The fancy car and its owner had attracted the attention of your neighbours, James and Maureen. Together with their neighbours from downstairs. They craned their necks, trying to get a good look at who you were with.

“What’s the matter?” Roger asked, looking hurt. “If that’s too soon, I’m really-”

“It’s… it’s fine. My neighbours are feeling nosy tonight,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “They keep looking in.” Your cheeks burned, feeling so stupid for letting that get to you. You were certain Roger had to put up with far more. But this was your thing. Your one good thing.

“Oh,” Roger mouthed, leaning into you. “Maybe we should give them something to talk about?”

You looked left and right, then focused on Roger. “Like what?” Butterflies surged inside you, cottoning on.

He moved so close to you that you could feel his breath hot against your neck, lips to your ear. “I don’t think I want tonight to end.” He moved back, pressing his nose to yours. “Do you?”

That thing you did whenever your nerves reared their ugly heads happened. A half laugh, half sigh. All with a coy smile. And a fleeting kiss. You looked up at your flat window. “Do you want to go…” you trailed off, kissing him again, deeper this time. “Inside?”

“Are you ok with that?” Roger asked, pulling away from you. He placed his hand on your waist. His eyes full of concern.

You thanked your lucky stars for the darkness around you both. You had no idea how you looked, deliberating, but you could feel the heat rushing to your face. You were certain you looked ridiculous.

In the back of your mind you knew what it meant. What he’d be expecting. It wasn’t exactly a huge jump away from him seeing you naked earlier. But to have him in your space, all around you, that was the difference.

You snapped back to reality. Nodding. Going along with it.

You and Roger raced past your neighbours, nodding and giving them a curt, “hi.” Then up the stairs, stumbling arm in arm.

Bursting through the door and into your living room, you turned around and looked at the outline of Roger. He had his back to the door, waiting for you to switch on the light. But you enjoyed it like this. Still and dark. So quiet you could hear Roger’s awkward breaths against the backdrop of the dull rushing in your ears. Your chest heaved as you thumbed at the fabric of your dress.

“Do you want a drink?” you blurted.

Roger jolted back to life. “Uh, yeah. Yeah. That would be lovely. Thanks,” he rambled, running his hand over the wall behind him. He found the switch. Light. At last.

Through in the kitchen, you searched your cupboards for all the booze you had. White wine? No, too girly. Vodka? Come on, have some class. Whisky? What are you a fifty year old man or something? You took everything out, examining each bottle one by one. And then two glasses.

“Vodka.”

Roger stood in the kitchen doorway with his arms folded. His eyes were half shut.

“Hm?”

“I’ll take a vodka.”

“Oh right. Ok, I’ve got you,” you babbled. “Mixers?”

Roger shrugged, entering the room. He picked up the bottle, reading the label, glasses perched at the end of his nose. “Christ, you don’t mess about. This is the strong stuff.”

“So do you need a mixer?” you asked. “Anything you like?”

“What do you usually drink it with?”

“Well,” you began, contorting your face to match your admission. “When I really need to get hammered… I’ll knock back a couple of shots.”

“I knew you were my kind of girl,” he said. He took control of the situation, opening the bottle and pouring you a measure each. He raised his glass to his lips and paused, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have to be drunk to… you know?”

The vodka brushed against your lips and retreated back into the glass. “Oh, no. No I didn’t mean it like that.”

Lies, of course.

“Because I don’t think there’s enough in there for me and you,” Roger smirked, pointing at the bottle.

Your bottom lip quivered. “There’s a first time for everything.”

Roger’s glass met yours, clinking. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Cheers.”

Setting down your glasses on the counter, you and Roger groaned as the vodka burned your insides. “Think that’ll take the edge off?” he asked, biting his lip.

You leaned on the counter, puffing out your cheeks. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Lies again.

Roger mirrored you, looking at you from beneath his eyelashes. His gaze wasn’t reserved for your face. That, you could handle. Instead, it trailed from your eyes to your lips. Down to your neck. Lower and lower still as his teeth sank into his bottom lip yet again.

You edged closer to him.

His voice was lower than usual. “Can I kiss you? Properly, I mean?”

“You don’t have to ask,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. Your insecurity threatened to take another bite from you. But the vodka, what little of it you had, fended it off for now. Your fingers clung to the back of Roger’s shirt as the gap between you grew smaller by the second.

He made such quick work of pulling you in by your hips, your bodies pressed against each other’s. Then, he stopped, a whisker away from your mouth. Keeping you waiting one more moment than you could stand. It was torture, fighting off the urge to close the gap. You could feel his breath catch on your lips.

Finally, it happened.

A reserved sigh accompanied Roger’s tongue tracing across your lower lip. You could taste the vodka on him as he doubled his efforts. He was fervent enough that you were already pinned against the kitchen counter. His hands weaved through your hair, tugging at the roots, keeping you right where he needed you to be.

You were so overcome. Unable to move in a tug of war between apprehension and unbridled lust, your fingers were still kneading away at Roger’s crisp, white shirt.

He strayed to your jaw, lavishing it with hungry, open mouthed kisses.

You cracked when he nipped at your neck, meeting the sensation with a muffled mewl. He set about doing it again, purely for that same reaction.

“You sound so fucking gorgeous,” he whispered, inching your dress up with his free hand and returning his lips to yours.

His fingers on your thighs made you tense.

Not this.

Not again.

You let go of his shirt as your body turned cold. You couldn’t hear his satisfied groans, as he continued to devour you, over the rushing in your ears. “Roger?”

That went unnoticed. He was far too distracted.

With all the strength you could muster, you planted your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Gasping, your lungs worked overtime to calm you down. “I’m sorry,” you choked.

“Did I hurt you?” Roger fretted. “I know I can be a bit-”

You hushed him with your fingers, searching for a road out of the room. “No, no.”

Roger noticed, moving out of your way. “Take as long as you need.” His hand brushed against your shoulder. “I’ll be here when you get back, ok?”

You raced to the bathroom and locked yourself inside. The tiled floor was like ice underneath you, but why did it feel like you were the one cracking?

Back to the door, you pressed your hands over your eyes, rubbing at them. Wiping away tears that were yet to fall. You tried so hard to be cool and calm. You wanted him. But your brain always did this.

You couldn’t help but wonder how Roger would feel about this. You, cutting short a lovely evening to go and suffocate yourself on your bathroom floor. This might be the final straw for him.

You could only hope he wouldn’t be around to see you like this. After all, you still harboured so much pride. That was rich, coming from someone who was prone to feeling like they were going to be swallowed whole when faced with the most average human activity.

He was still there. Shuffling through the hallway.

He knocked on the door, the vibrations causing you to shake. “Are you alright in there?”

“Just about.”

You weren't.

“I’ve made you a cup of tea.”

“Ok.”

“I’ll leave it here beside the door, ok, darling? Take your time.”

As Roger placed the tea on the floor outside the bathroom, you cracked open the door, looking up at him. “I should be out in a minute. Just need to find my feet,” you said with an embarrassed smile.

Roger sat down in the hallway, handing you the cup of tea. “Do you need a hand?”

The first sip didn’t go down well. It felt like there was a fist around your throat, stopping anything from getting through. “No. My legs sometimes tingle when I get like this,” you spluttered. “I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Roger’s expression flipped. “My dear, you’re going to need to stop apologising when you’ve done nothing wrong. You’ll only make yourself feel more guilty.” He was adamant about that.

You shook your head. “But I did. We were having a great time and I-” you trailed off, gesturing towards the kitchen. “I fucked up.”

“But you can’t help it.”

“Even still.”

“You can’t help it.”

You nodded, half agreeing. You couldn’t.

“What was it that brought it on?” Roger asked.

“Nothing that you did, honestly.” The defensiveness cut through your tone. There was no disguising it.

“Be honest.”

You shrugged like it was nothing. “I have a hard time letting people into my personal space like that. I have to know I can trust them. Sometimes it takes forever. Sometimes, it happens right away.”

“Ok,” Roger said.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I needed more vodka.” You attempted a smile through all the humiliation.

Roger reached out and took your hand. “Christ, you’re cold. Doesn’t help being sprawled on that bloody floor.”

———————————————————————————

A pale gold lit up your humble abode through the curtains. Small snores came from underneath you, your pillow rising and falling in waves. Both of you were still clothed and the duvet lay discarded on the floor. Your face nestled into Roger’s chest, and his arm curled around your shoulders. He was warm and soft for someone so lithe. You didn’t want to move.

Towards the end of the night, you and Roger must have found your way to bed. You couldn’t remember how it happened. All you could recall was the conversation from the bathroom floor. How he talked you down and distracted you. How he listened and understood what you needed. How he comforted you.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking up at him. He seemed peaceful, still fast asleep.

Then the fear set in. What if he saw you like this, half asleep first thing in the morning? Unwashed. No makeup. Morning breath.

You rolled out of bed, careful not to make a sound. That one notorious floorboard gave you away. You gasped when you heard Roger stir.

“Where you going?” he asked, throwing his arm over his tired, delicate eyes.

“I-I’m just going to clean myself up,” you stumbled.

“Don’t be too long. I was enjoying that.”

In the bathroom, you leaned against the counter top, looking at yourself in the mirror. Dark circles. A pimple on your chin. A couple of stray hairs on your top lip. You fixated on the imperfections you saw. Why the hell would Roger enjoy you?

“COME BAAAAACK!” Roger whined.

“Give me a minute!”

Teeth brushed, dirty clothes off and a once over with a washcloth. That was all it took before you were back in your room, clad in your bathrobe. You thought nothing of it until Roger sat up, raising his eyebrows.

“What?” you asked, tying it around your waist.

Roger shook his head, grinning. “Nothing.”

Throwing yourself on to the bed beside Roger, you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. You felt more bold than you were last night. “It’s something.” You undid all the buttons, while you waited for Roger’s response.

Roger’s breath hitched in his throat as you straddled his waist, giving his collarbones delicate kisses. “Are you wearing anything underneath that?” He asked.

You sat upright, caressing the strip of skin between his jeans and his navel. “Do you want to find out?”

Roger’s hands came to rest on your thighs on either side of him. All he could do was look up and nod, renouncing all control of the situation.

You smirked, taking one end of the silk tie in your hand, and giving it a gentle tug. Enjoying Roger’s more malleable side, you decided to draw the act out. You bit your lip, cocking your head to the side. “Are you sure?”

“Please.” Roger’s fingers fidgeted on your thighs. “Let me see you.”

There was still that tense nervousness pulling away at your insides. But you would have been lying if you said that presenting yourself to him like this wasn't exhilarating. Wiggling your hips from side to side on top of him, you tried to gauge his reaction. “Like what you see?” you asked, the fabric slipping off your frame.

Roger laughed, grabbing your hips as he rolled on top of you, pinning you down. “I think I’m going to keep you, yes.” He gave you a quick, ardent kiss, before picking up where you both had left off last night. “I think you must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmured, allowing his hands and mouth to roam. He paused, blinking up at you. "Do you trust me?"

Remembering your conversation from last night, a chill rushed through you. You didn't have to think about it. The fact that he had even considered asking you that question was good enough for you. "Yes. I do."

"Thank you." Resuming his work, Roger's hands had taken to your thighs while his lips imparted wet, hungry kisses on your breasts. His tongue danced over your nipple. He groaned as it hardened in his mouth, giving it a pinch with his teeth.

Arching your back into him, you eased yourself into what was happening. Heat grew between your legs as Roger gave you a drowsy look.

He turned his efforts lower.

You became more responsive as he spread your legs, dragging his fingers along the back of your thighs.

You couldn’t help whining as your impatience grew.

The feverish kisses on your stomach gave way to absurd, chaste little smacks along the inside of your thigh. Even the feeling of his breath on your skin had you rolling your hips with need. Whimpering into the pillow, you grasped at his hair.

He lazily played with you. Feathering his fingers up and down your slick slit, he marvelled at your arousal. “You’re so wet for me, darling,” he purred.

All you could muster was a desperate hum before he let loose on you.

Roger savoured each stroke, parting your folds with the flat of his tongue. It wasn’t his fingers pressing into your thighs, or the way he closed his eyes, or the sounds escaping him that gave his enjoyment away. It was the way he moved into you, fraught with hunger and the desire to please you. His tongue was forceful, lapping away at your lips, pulling them into his mouth.

And you? All you wanted was more.

Even if you tried to roll your hips to reach your goal, he would only push back even more. You squirmed and writhed, aching.

Finally, his tongue brushed over your clit. It was fleeting but enough to elicit something more verbal from you. A pathetic, loud and needy moan, coupled with a sharp tug at Roger’s hair had him grinning. He looked up, “oh, you like that?”

You bit your lip, looking down at him. Pleading with your eyes for him to do it again. Keep doing it. Never stop doing it.

Roger replaced his mouth with his hands, fingers lingering at your entrance. “Tell me how much you liked it,” he ordered, slipping two fingers inside you. He curled them in on themselves repeatedly, touching just the right spot to make your hips buck against him, gasping desperately. “Tell me,” he goaded.

You screwed your eyes shut in frustration, struggling to verbalise how much you needed his mouth on you again. Managing to squeak out a feeble, “please,” you could hear Roger laugh as he continued to tease.

“You sound so pretty when you beg.” Another quick dart of his tongue over your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

“Roger,” you called, fists balling up in the sheets, “please, I need to come.”

Roger swiped his tongue around, but not on, your clit, his fingers still working away inside you. The sound was obscene. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He held nothing back. He focused all his attention directly on your most sensitive spot. The contact was absolutely electric, making your legs tremble and every muscle inside you pull taut as he moved his tongue and his fingers in sync. Chipping away at the last small semblance of control you had. He was relentless.

He never let up as your fingernails clawed at his scalp. Or as the most unholy sounds escaped your lips. Certainly not when your cunt began to throb and quiver around his tiring fingers. Not until that knot in your stomach snapped free, leaving you breathless and your skin glistening.

It took forever for you to become coherent and lucid again, but when you did, Roger was still between your legs, laying affectionate kisses on to your stomach. You covered your face with your hands to process everything that had just happened, trying to clench your thighs together.

Sensing the change in you, Roger moved up the bed. As he loomed over you, you could feel his cock press against your stomach through his jeans. His breathing was slow and heavy, your scent so clear on his skin. “Are you ok?” He asked, kissing your nose and both your hands.

Dragging your hands down your face, he came into view. You nodded and with a hoarse voice, you reassured him. “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

“Ok,” Roger whispered, starting to move to your side.

“No, don’t,” you said, tugging at the edges of his shirt.

Roger stayed put, stroking your hair as it splayed across the pillow around you, looking down and admiring you in all your flushed and tired glory.

“This is a very attractive angle,” you murmured, a smirk on your lips.

“Do you even have a bad side?” Roger asked, squinting down at you.

With care, you ran your thumb along Roger’s jaw. “Lots of them.”

He kissed your nose before burying his face in the crook of your neck. More kisses. Slow and passionate. Ratcheting up the mood again.

“Who knew you’d get so riled up with all this sentiment?” you giggled.

“Over you, you mean?” he grinned, leaning down to kiss you. His hips rolled against yours as your kiss deepened, limbs intertwining pulling you both together. His movements became more purposeful. The feeling of his cock, still in his jeans, rubbing against your spent and sensitive cunt only made you eager for another round, mewling into Roger’s mouth.

He broke away, planting his hands on either side of you. “Do you want to…you know?”

You smiled sweetly, urging him to go ahead.

He needed no other encouragement, leaning back to undo his jeans and free his cock. Veined, hard and glistening pink at the head, he stroked his length. The gap between you closed again as he brushed the tip of his cock between your folds, coating it. Head back, mouth open, he groaned contentedly as he filled you for the first time.

The fire inside you grew wildly out of control as you pushed back into him. Every single move of his was tentative. He was holding so much back.

“Fuck me like you mean it," you joked, slapping his arm.

Roger dramatically draped himself over you, grinding into you. He kept his gaze trained on you. His pace quickened, unable to maintain his restraint. The soft sound of flesh on flesh grew louder. “You’re so fucking tight,” he hissed into the pillow.

You dug your fingernails into his back and wrapped your legs high around his body, forcing him deeper. Whimpering, you tried to reach his lips to stifle it.

“Moan for me, come on. I want to hear you darling,” he grunted, doubling his efforts. “Don’t go shy on me now.”

You grasped a handful of his hair, pulling him in for a feverish, breathless kiss.

You could feel him becoming tense. His breath hitching. His hips jerking.

“You gonna come, my love?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grunted, burying his face into the pillow again, his movements growing erratic. With one last growl into your neck, his cock throbbed, pumping strand after strand of cum into you until there was nothing left to do but collapse onto you.

You held him, bodies glued together in sheer bliss until your breathing stilled. It felt like forever before Roger rolled off you and on to his back.

He looked over at you from the other side of the bed. Cheeks flushed, lips parted, still wearing that dreamy look of his.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you grinned.

Roger turned his attention to the ceiling. Eyes scrunched. Cheeks puffed out. A coy smile on his lips. Then he gave a big sigh. “I think you were made for me.”

[4/11]

All those nerves at the beginning melted away as your trust in Roger grew. Every time you and him got together, he would pull you out of your shell even more; everyone noticed that change in you.

Until he was due to leave for another tour.

It worried you for weeks. In secret, of course. He couldn’t find out about the dread that gripped you when you were left alone with your thoughts. When he was gone.

How long you had with him? Where this was going? Who was going to take your place when he inevitably got bored of you?

It was a wet Wednesday morning and you hadn’t done a stitch. Your blinds were closed and your laundry overflowed from the basket. You wasted precious moments bathing. Only because it was necessary. And putting the kettle on. Again, necessary.

You had taken the day off work to spend as much time as you could with him before he left. Doing nothing but cocoon yourselves in blankets and work your way through endless pots of tea. You couldn't allow this to bug you any longer.

Unfurling Roger’s arm from around your shoulders, you turned around to face him. Fingers grasping at the edges of the blanket around you. “When do you come home again?”

Roger drained the last of his cup of tea and sighed. “Two months.”

You huffed, looking towards the window. “I’m going to miss you.”

Roger stroked your hair; little comfort in the face of the first real test in your relationship. “I’ll speak to you every day. I promise."

———————————————————————

True to his word, despite the time difference, he did. He snuck away from his bandmates, paying through the nose on long distance calls in the early hours of the morning, leaning against the side of a different phone booth every night, half asleep.

Three weeks in, Roger was somewhere in Santa Ana, passing through at a truck stop. His bandmates were within earshot as he slunk towards the row of grubby phones. He glanced at his watch, making sure his timing wasn’t completely unreasonable and began slotting his money in. His fingers jabbed away at the buttons. He had memorised your number by now.

It was three in the morning back home. The trill of your phone roused you in seconds flat. You had moved your phone beside your bed for easy access. Goodness knows what hour Roger would call at on any given day. You had to be prepared. Flinging yourself over the edge of the bed to pick up the receiver, you croaked. “Roger?”

“Hello my darling. What time is it over there?”

You chuckled, lying back down. “Witching hour.”

Roger laughed, leaning his head against the wall in front of him. “It’s always witching hour with you.”

“How was your gig? You had one today, didn’t you?”

“No. We’re heading to LA now. How’s work?”

One of the consequences of speaking every day was that you were quick to run out of things to talk about. All he did was play shows, or scrabble. Or drink. You didn't want to think about anything other than that, though sometimes your imagination ran wild.

And you whittled down the days at a poky little office. It paid peanuts. Sometimes you would go out with friends, but those were good days. Those were rare. “It’s work, really. Isn’t it?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. Roger pinched the bridge of his nose, determined not to allow the hurt to scratch the surface. “And how are you feeling?” His voice was small, now. He wasn’t his usual cheerful self.

A great roar of cheering and giggling erupted wherever Roger was. It caught your attention, tying knots in your stomach. “I’m good. Are you and the guys doing anything nice?”

“Oh, you know,” he began, laughing, “the guys have brought some girls to the bus. But I'm just going to go to-”

Your skin became cold at that sentence. “Girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.”

“I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“I’ll be thinking of you,” he said quietly.

Your brain couldn’t stop it. “When you fuck them, you mean?”

Roger was taken aback. “You don’t have anything to worry about, I promise. They’re not for me. But you are.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“I… I lo…I miss you. So much.”

His words weren’t much consolation. “I’ll speak to you soon, Roger.”

You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone.

Brian and Freddie loitered a few feet away from Roger, discussing their plans for the night. They paid him no attention as he made his phone call.

Until he punched at the wall in front of him. Tears began to crawl from his eyes. This wasn't like him at all.

Sure, tantrums were a daily occurrence with Roger, but very seldom did he cry in anyone’s company. He was much too proud for that. Right now though, he was on his own planet.

He stood there for what felt like forever, hands furiously drying his eyes, head bowed. His shoulders rose and fell as he tried to calm himself down.

Brian and Freddie were mesmerised. They glanced at him and then each other, shrugging their shoulders. “What do you think’s the matter with him?” Freddie whispered in Brian’s ear, covering his hand with his mouth. Being quiet wasn’t his forte.

“Probably another one of his hissy fits.”

The movement of Roger’s shoulders seemed to speed up.

“Do you think we should talk to him?” Brian asked, giving Freddie a worried look, hoping that it wouldn’t have to be him.

“Oh alright, I’ll bloody do it!” Freddie announced, graciously accepting the invitation no one had asked for.

Without warning, Roger turned around. His cheeks and eyes were red and puffy. “It’s not another one of my bloody tantrums!”

“Alright. Don’t be so dramatic, Rog,” Brian said, holding up his hands. “What happened?”

“I heard he’s got himself a new plaything,” Freddie jibed.

In that moment, Roger saw red, closing the gap between himself and his best friend. He puffed out his chest, getting in Freddie's face. “What was that?”

“Oh here we go,” Brian muttered folding his arms.

Freddie stood as tall as he could. His tone was fair and commanding, offering Roger little room to escalate the situation. “Do you think we don’t notice you sneaking off at all hours? Hogging every phone you see? When you're all bleary eyed and quiet? Have you met someone?”

Roger opened his mouth to speak. But he knew the game was up. Freddie had his number.

Deacy decided to make an appearance at exactly the right moment, staggering out of the bus, grinning. “Who’s Roger meeting?”

Roger rolled his eyes and threw his arms at his sides. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve well and truly fucked up now.”

Before his friends could answer, he darted towards the bus, like a stroppy teenager, running away from all his problems. He paid no attention to the group of scantily clad girls congregated in the lounge area. Instead, he climbed into his coffin sized bunk and slipped on his headphones. He didn’t want to be disturbed. He wanted to be alone.

Outside, Brian, Deacy and Freddie were still trying to process what happened, shrugging and exchanging confused looks.

At ten o’clock the following morning, your phone rang again. A rude awakening on your day off. You lay awake the entire night, torturing yourself, wondering what Roger was up to.

You picked it up, expecting it to be your manager, calling you in to work.

But, no. It was Roger.

“What time is it over there?”

“It’s two in the morning,” he sighed. “I don’t know why I’m calling you.”

“Guilt? Did you think of me?” The hurt cut through your tone; it was so obvious that Roger couldn’t miss it.

He widened his eyes at your response, seeming to forget your exchange only hours prior. “Sorry?”

“With your groupies? Did you think of me?”

Roger paused for a moment. He took a deep breath, trying to muster the least defensive response he could. “I was awake all night actually. Worrying myself sick about you while the rest of them took care of the girls.”

“You've got a show tomorrow. Today, actually. Get some sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” You asked, turning on to your back and staring at the ceiling.

It wasn’t even the fact that you were convinced Roger had been with other women since he embarked on the tour that bothered you. It was the fact that your brain seemed to be clobbering you over the head with that thought all the time. It convinced you that you weren’t good enough. And you couldn’t string together the words to express that. Not without Roger becoming even more insufferable, for the vicious cycle to start all over again.

His voice cracked through the rushing in your ears. “Are you still there, my love?”

“I’m still here.”

“What are you doing for the rest of the week?” he asked.

Now he wanted to make small talk? Really? “Working. Same as every other day.”

“Are you off work today?”

What was with all the questions? “Yeah,” you huffed, “I was hoping I could sleep all my cares away and fester in my bed. I feel like shit.”

“If that's what you need, I won’t keep you. Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any more holidays to take off work?”

You recoiled from the receiver, narrowing your eyes. “I have a few. Why?”

The old Roger, the Roger you were enjoying getting to know was back. “Because I think I might sleep better if you were lying in a confined space on top of me.”

“That sounds terrible for me. My worst nightmare, actually.”

“What? A confined space or getting on a plane to see me? Have you ever been on a plane?” He asked, his words gathering pace. “Do you even have a passport?”

“Roger-”

“I mean, it would be great. If it makes you uncomfortable then you don’t have to do it.”

A familiar tightness bore down on your chest. The more he spoke, the heavier it grew. You needed out of this conversation fast. “Can I think on it?”

“Of course. Let me know tomorrow.”

And just like that, the weight was lifted. “Ok.”

“Darling?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m with you, and only you,” he said, exaggerating those words. “But I need you to trust me.”

“I’m trying my best. It’s going to take time.”

“Are we ok?”

“I hope so. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t. Not until you get here. As I recall, you seem to get a kick out of me being stupid,” he joked. You could picture that smile of his as he spoke. “Enjoy your day off.”

The worries you had about him subsided for the time being. You sighed with a contented smile. “Have an amazing show. Only five more weeks until you're home.”

Roger laughed. “I love you.”

Those words were like a bucket of cold water being dumped all over you. The hairs on your arms stood on end and a shiver ran down your spine. Disbelief seeped into your core again. “Thank you.”

Roger's laughter grew as he hung up. That was everything he loved about you, summed up, right there.

You had a big decision to make.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #queen

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jvalentineinc · 4 years

Photo

Loving this photo set from firefly 👑 Maureen in her J. Val fits. You look fierce & fabulous! 💙💎 We also loved your message to mom & dad 🥰 Supportive parents should always be celebrated 🎉 via @momo_dubz Welp... today was the first day my dad saw me in full rave gear... and i scared the god holy shit out of him. Seriously, he jumped in his chair lol but when i came in from taking my pictures he said “well did it go well? Did you scare the neighbors?” Yes dad. You, the neighbors, the neighbors dog and a squirrel 😂☠️ but then he followed it with “just be you bear, whatever makes you happy” The thing with my parents is that I know they’re not the biggest fan of my rave clothes, my angry robot noise dubstep or my summertime nomad mannerisms. But they know how happy it makes me. They know I’m a little offbeat, but they still support all of my crazy edm endeavors no matter what. I cant even put into words how much these little signs of support mean to me. I grew up thinking I had to fit into a mold, to be the person everyone else wanted me to be. It wasn’t until recent years that I really started to embrace myself and start living my own truth instead of the standards I felt like society was putting on me. And I’ve never felt more comfortable, more me. So thanks mom and dad, for always embracing me. Even when I’m ugly crying because I miss festivals, when I’m showing you a video from a show that gives you heart palpitations, when I’m making a mess in the living room with a new craft project for an outfit, when I’m coming to you two days before a festival with a pile of fabric to help me sew something, when you’re getting glitter and perler beads stuck to your feet for the rest of eternity and when I’m scaring the neighborhood taking pictures in full rave gear in the driveway at 3 pm on a Saturday. Thanks for always loving me, for me. I love you both so much and am so lucky to have such badass parents. 💙 #jvalentinefamily #iheartraves #ihrstyled #jvfireflies #lunautics #jvalentine #festivalfashion #raveoutfit #edmgirls #ravegirls #festivalgirls #plussizeravers #plussizeravewear #glitter #plussizefashion #facegems #outfitinspiration #positivevibes https://www.instagram.com/p/CFhyC5-FayL/?igshid=w6yeda9cw6h4

#jvalentinefamily #iheartraves #ihrstyled #jvfireflies #lunautics #jvalentine #festivalfashion #raveoutfit #edmgirls #ravegirls #festivalgirls #plussizeravers #plussizeravewear #glitter #plussizefashion #facegems #outfitinspiration #positivevibes

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yehet-me-up · 5 years

Text

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Pairing: Donghae x reader

Genre: fluff, office!AU, based on The Hating Game

Rating: PG13 because I can’t help but swear 😂 Kissing, but nothing explicit

Word Count: 2,478

Summary: The company carnival was your idea. The kissing booth was all his. What happened that night is definitely both of your faults.

Request: donghae from super junior with either 11, fluff! (almost nobody writes for them, youre a godsend) I hope you like it, love!!! <3

The energy is palpable as the employees file through the gates into the field. You can’t help but smile and feel proud.

When Mr. Turner entrusted the annual company party to you, it felt like a test. A big test. Pull this off and the promotion was practically guaranteed was the unspoken message.

Too bad you had to work with the biggest flirt in the entire office and your perpetual rival - Lee Donghae.

‘Watch out, nerd.’ A man shoulders past you unnecessarily.

The gate is at least four people wide, but Donghae never misses an opportunity to ruffle your feathers. You make an angry noise, not unlike the sound your cat makes when he watches the neighbors dog eat from his bowl.

‘Oh. I’m so sorry. Did you not see me, old man? Misplaced your glasses?’ You can’t deny taunting him back is one of your favorite hobbies, and the fact that he’s six months older than you brings you enormous joy. ‘Do you need me to call the nursing home to come and get you?’

He turns to face you full on and you bite your lip to contain your groan. Of course he looks good. He always looks good. But tonight he looks extra delicious in black jeans and a light blue button down. He even rolled the sleeves up in the early May heat. Bastard.

His hair is brushed casually off his forehead and he watches you with amusement in his dark eyes. ‘Only if they pick you up at the same time,’ he volleys back. ‘I care about the environment, you know.’

You snort and throw your hands up, walking towards the carousel and leaving him in the dust. He might think this promotion is his, but he has no idea. Over my dead body.

He follows you, slinging a casual arm across your shoulders. ‘I think we did a fantastic job, nerd. Thanks for the assist, I can’t wait for Mr. Turner to see this.’

Shrugging his arm off you face him and narrow your eyes. ‘I should be thanking you for the assist. This was my idea.’

He gives you a lopsided smile of victory and runs a hand through his annoyingly luscious hair. You want to smack him in the chest. Or yell at him. Or push him to the ground and kiss him so hard he can’t breathe. Any of those will do.

‘Whatever,’ you spit at him, looking at your clipboard to distract yourself from your raging anger and lust. ‘Just stay out of my way tonight. Everything needs to go perfectly.’

He pulls a length of thick red fabric from his pocket and waves it tauntingly in your face. ‘Don’t worry darlin’, I’ll be occupied and out of your way all evening. I’ve got a job to do. Unless you want to trade.’

You swallow harshly. Somehow in the chaos of the rides being delivered and the vendors asking millions of questions this afternoon you’d forgotten that he volunteered to run a kissing booth to raise donations for the Employee Support Program.

Half of you loved how thoughtful it was and wanted to sing at getting to see the heart of gold you know is buried in there, somewhere, under layers of sarcasm and arrogance.

Half of you wanted to break something at the idea of him kissing Amanda from accounting and Zora from marketing and every woman, and probably man, in the company in-between.

‘Well. I hope you brought some mints,’ you say in a strained voice. ‘Wouldn’t want to subject anyone to your terrible breath.’

‘Hey, you okay?’ He frowns, reaching a hand for your shoulder that you easily dodge. He’s already touched you twice tonight and you feel like you’ll explode if he does it a third.

You cough and clear your throat. ‘Fine. Just have a packed schedule. Have fun making out with Kevin Williams in accounts payable.’

When you push past him this time, he doesn’t follow, just sighs in defeat. You’ve won this round, but at what cost?

The night goes smoothly. Spectacularly, even. Everyone’s kids seem to love the magic show and the row of old-school carnival games. Miraculously Jacob Donaldson avoids throwing up on the ferris wheel. The specialty popcorn and hot dog stations are a hit.

‘This is so fun! You did amazing.’

You turn and see Michelle beaming and carrying an enormous cotton candy.

‘Aw, thanks. I’m so glad, I’ve been a worried mess about it.’ You sigh and re-check your list.

‘Stop worrying and enjoy yourself!’ She slides an arm around your waist and gives you a half hug. ‘Has Mr. T raved to you yet? He was just telling me at the bottle toss that this is the best company party he’s been to in twenty five years.’

‘No way,’ you gasp.

‘Yes way,’ she teases and gives you a squeeze at your waist. ‘That promotion is yours babe. You got this.’

For the first time all night you let your shoulders relax and you take a deep breath. ‘I know Donghae’s going to try to take all the credit though.’

She snorts. ‘I think that man has his hands full right now.’ She motions past you to the kissing booth.

The line snakes all the way from the booth to the popcorn vendor three spots down. ‘Oh my god.’

‘I know, right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Beth happier. She’s had a crush on him for ages.’ She says, raising her brow at you in a knowing way.

‘I do not have any feelings for Lee Donghae,’ you protest. ‘Other than seething hatred of course.’

‘Mhmm keep telling yourself that,’ she says, taking a big bite of her cotton candy.

‘Ugh. What an infuriating man.’

‘You really should do something about that.’

‘No. It will all be over soon, regardless. Either I get that job and he’ll be my employee. Or he’ll get it and I’ll fling myself directly into the center of the sun. Problem solved.’

‘Yep, you’ve clearly got it under control.’ She barks out a laugh and walks backward with a taunting raise of her brows. ‘Don’t have too much fun.’

You groan and lightly smack the clipboard to your forehead. ‘Fantastic.’

‘And let’s give a huge round of applause for the people who put this event together tonight!’ Mr. Turner claps his hand awkwardly to the one holding out the microphone while the rest of the employees join in.

The lights facing the stage are bright in your eyes and you can feel the heat coming off the man next to you. Donghae looks over at you with a wide, victorious smile. Lipstick is smeared in the corners of his mouth and you’re torn between laughing and crying.

He winks at you and steps up to take the microphone. ‘Thank you Mr. T. We couldn’t have put on this event without such excellent leadership.’

‘Kiss ass,’ you hiss under your breath.

‘My wonderful colleague and I are so thankful to you all for coming out. As you know we’ve been working hard to make this event special. I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it. Don’t forget to come and give me a kiss!’

He hands the microphone back to Mr. Turner and swaggers back to your side amidst thunderous applause, particularly from the women in the audience. You want to scream.

For long seconds the two of you stare down each other while the crowd breaks up. Michelle calls it the Running of the Bulls whenever you’re together. All these years later and you’ve never asked her which one of you is the bull and which is the runner. It probably depends on the day.

You huff and storm off the stage. When you turn and look back at him he’s waving the red blindfold in your direction. Well, at least tonight you know you’re the bull.

The line at the damned kissing booth finally dwindles down as the night wraps up. You said goodbye to Mr. Turner and his wife chatted happily with you for ages about how much fun their family had, so you hope he remembers that when the promotion is decided.

Most of the food vendors are closing down and you realize you haven’t eaten all night. ‘I should go and eat a garlic chili dog and go make out with that jerk,’ you say to yourself with a laugh.

Maureen Jones is currently kissing the object of your woe slash secret desire. Her hands clutch his defined biceps and you can see he’s doing absolutely far more than necessary.

‘Better yet, I’ll teach him a lesson. With my tongue.’

You set the clipboard on a table and march over to the short line, heat and a desire for revenge swimming in your veins. He kisses another three women and two men before you’re finally at the front of the line. And the last of the line, you think, looking behind you at the stragglers leaving the fairgrounds.

‘Well, don’t keep me waiting all night,’ he says in a low voice. ‘I know you’re there.’

The blindfold appears thick as you step close. At least you hope it is. God only knows how much he’d delight in the fact that you caved and finally kissed him first.

What if he’s genuinely just been messing with you all these years?

What if everyone is wrong and he actually does dislike you?

Oh, no. Bad idea.

Before you can step away he reaches for you blindly, his hands finding your waist and one of your elbows, pulling you closer. With him sitting on the stool you’re finally the same height. His lips are even fuller up close than you thought, or perhaps it’s just the sheer amount of work they’ve put in tonight.

He pulls you to him and lifts a hand to find your chin, guiding your face to his. The kiss is brief, far quicker than you thought it would be. A firm warm pressure and then it’s over.

You lift your hand to your lip. You should let him know the night is over. You should say something, anything. A cutting remark. A sarcastic apology. A joke about his kissing skills.

But if he knows it’s you standing there... Oh lord what have I done?

After a beat he interrupts your thoughts by lifting his other hand and holding your face. It’s so quiet in the corner of the carnival that you can hear his breath and yours as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs.

With a soft hum he stands and seals his lips to yours once more. In surprise you fist your hands in his shirt. All you can do is cling to him as your world shifts off-center.

He works his mouth against yours and your knees go weak. You were right, fortunately or unfortunately for your incessant fantasies of him, his lips are perfect - full and soft and achingly right against yours.

You try to speak, to give voice to the confusion and delight coursing through you, but the only thing you can focus on is the way he feels and tastes as he claims you.

Slowly your grip loosens and you run your hands up his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You wind your hands through his hair and want to moan - it’s just as thick as you always thought it would be.

His hands caress your neck, slowly undoing you as they trail down your back to hold your waist firmly. Thank goodness there’s hardly anyone around to see the way you press yourself against him, moulding your curves against his hardness.

This is wrong. I shouldn’t do this. We shouldn’t do this. He gently bites your lower lip and you feel your eyes roll back in your head. Oh fuck it.

Rational thought slaps you upside the head and you remember who you’re kissing. You back up several paces, breaking the kiss.

He slowly takes off the blindfold, blinking in the lights from the nearby rides, watching you carefully. He doesn’t look surprised at all to see you standing there, in fact, he looks like he was expecting you.

‘What on earth was that?’ you ask, breathless. It helps that he looks just as undone.

He gives you a lopsided smirk. ‘I kissed you, nerd. Finally.’

You fold your arms and fix him with your most intense stare. ‘What do you mean finally? How did you even know it was me?’

He laughs, looking up at the sky dotted by stars. ‘Darlin’ I’ve been smelling that perfume of yours for so many years I would recognize it anywhere. I think I even smell it in my dreams.’

‘Oh.’

You reach for any of the familiar feelings that normally rise in you around him - anger, hostility, sarcasm, joking, lust. But all you find is softness. The absence of dislike is so shocking you feel like you’re floating in air.

‘Oh? That’s all you’ve got? I can’t believe I rendered you speechless,’ he says with a grin. ‘It’s a day for the record books.’

That does it. ‘I’ll show you speechless.’

In two steps you’re against him and in one breath you pull his lips to yours by tugging on his ears. You can taste his surprise and savor it, kissing him with all the passion and heat and desire you’ve kept hidden just beneath the surface for years.

You feel him smile into the kiss and you make a noise of excitement and pleasure against him. He hums in response and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around.

Pulling back, you grin down at him. ‘Wait. You don’t even like me,’ you protest, pushing his hair off his face so you can see his eyes clearly. ‘In fact, I’m pretty sure you hate me.’

He laughs, the bright and rich sound wrapping around you. ‘I feel a great many things for you, darlin’. But none of them is hate. Why do you think I suggested a kissing booth?’

You frown at him in confusion. ‘So you could make out with half the staff and live up to your playboy reputation?’

He presses a quick kiss to your chin. ‘So I could finally kiss you, duh. About time we figure out what this is between us, don’t you think?’

If he was joking or being a dick you would have easily told him to screw off. But the sincerity in his face holds no teasing for once.

‘Yes, I think you’re right.’ He opens his mouth and you cover it with yours, giving him a hard kiss. ‘But if you make any sort of joke about me admitting you’re right-’

He cuts you off with another kiss and you laugh against him. Oh, screw it.

#DRABBLEPALOOZA #donghae x reader #donghae fanfic #donghae fluff #super junior fanfic #super junior x reader #suju x reader #super junior fluff

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ritacaroline · 5 years

Text

Starshine Ch. 48 Jimmy Page Fan Fiction

All the guests walked back to their rooms to prepare for an encounter on the water. Most people wore swimsuits with tee shirts over them, also brought a few towels with them. You never know what’s going to happen when on a lake in a rowboat.

They all arrived at the dock. Gary helped each group get situated into their boats. John Paul and Maureen were paired with Jim and Jill. Rob and Linda were in another boat with Peter and Alison. However the two boats stayed close together. After about a twenty minutes of rowing, a gorgeous scenic area was found and they decided to stop and relax for

awhile. Jill could be unpredictable at times. She kissed Jim a few times on his sweet mouth and without warning, she just pulled off the cover up shirt and in her swimsuit, she jumped overboard. It made quite a splash and the rest of the group gasped in surprise. The other boat was just next to them, and Percy also pulled off his top and dove in. When they popped out of the water, Jimmy asked Jill how the water felt ? She said, “ Well, it’s definitely not warm. But it’s tolerable. Very clean though and clear.“

Jimmy asked, “How deep is it ?“

Jill answered, “Well, it’s over your head.” as she swam about and dipped underwater a few times. When she came to the surface, Jimmy said, “Oh my God, when you went underwater, your hair all spread out like a blonde silky fan. And I swear, you looked just like a mermaid for a minute there !”

Next, John Paul jumped in. So only Maureen and Jimmy still occupied their boat. Jimmy stood up to get a better look into the water, trying to see if he could see down to the bottom. But the boat became unstable with that, Maureen shouted, “ Jimmy ! Never stand up in a……" Splash !

He fell straight overboard, right in.

Percy and John Paul shouted in an alarmed voice, ”He can’t swim ! Get him, before he drowns !“ Jill was nearest to where he fell in, so when he surfaced, she immediately had him by the arm and he grasped onto her. He was spitting out water and gasping for air. She immediately began saying, ”Don’t panic, just hold on, I’ll hold you, just don’t flail.“ And he tried as hard as he could not to do those things but it was way difficult. Within one second, Maureen had thrown him a life preserver, donut shaped. Jill grasped it, put Jimmy’s hand onto it, saying to hang onto it. He finally calmed down clinging to the tire shaped item. It held him up, but he was pretty unnerved and not speaking. Percy and Jill helped him grab hold of the boat edge, and they helped push him in, as Maureen held both his hands to pull him up and into the boat. The rest of them worked together to help each other back aboard their boats. Once in the boat - immediately Jill grabbed a life preserver jacket and helped Jimmy get it onto himself. He was caped over in a warm towel, still not speaking. He was upset and also embarrassed. Not because he fell in, but because he knew he should’ve had the preserver vest on the entire ride. But was too proud to wear it, as if it was an announcement that he couldn’t swim. Jill had her hands around him, rubbing his shoulders and his back in a loving way, and kissing him along the side of his face. She kept whispering to him, near his ear, “You’re ok, you’ll be fine. We just need to wear these float jackets if we’re on the water again, that’s all babe. I love you, don’t you worry.“

He just stayed totally quiet, unhappy at what had happened. But not being rude or obnoxious, just feeling awkward and a little traumatized. Jill understood. No one tried to correct him or give advise. They all just left him alone. Jill had her arms around him, in the kindest way possible.

Eventually, they arrived back at the dock. And Jimmy was more than glad to be on land again. Finally he spoke to Jill, “Thanks for helping me, darling. I owe you, now. ”

Jill responded, “No problem, my love. You owe me nothing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Ever. And that wasn’t hard to do. Forget it.”

Jimmy answered, “I appreciate your sweetness, but we all know that was my own fault. I should have worn the life vest, knowing I can’t swim. That was stupid of me.”

Jill said, “We live, we learn. If you go out on the water again, we’ve both learned anything can happen. So we’ll be certain to know better and be more careful.”

Jimmy said, “I think it’s gonna be awhile before I’m out on water again, where it’s over my head.“

Jill spoke, “I’m just glad you’re ok. I was worried that you might not come up to the surface, once you disappeared. I was dying. If you had drowned, I wouldn’t want to live on this planet anymore.”

Jim said, “That’s how I felt when you were hit by that car 2 months ago. It was the worst feeling ever. I never want that to go through that again.”

Everyone in their group was really set back by the incident on the lake. They were all tingling about what could have happened. It was a close call. They all discussed it and vowed to all be extremely alert when Jimmy was going to be in deep water. The outcome may have been devastating, if he didn’t surface as he did. The group all retreated to their rooms for awhile, before dinner.

Jimmy sat on the bed, and Jill got him a hot tea.

Jill helped him get his wet clothes off and she surrounded him with some large fluffy towels. She rubbed the towels all around him to warm him up and dry off. When dry, he got under the soft fluffy blankets to relax and to get some peace. And to attempt to get his mind past the close call. While he rested, Jill got a warm shower and dried off. She got herself warmed up by the fire in the fireplace. She got under the covers with Jimmy and caressed his forehead and softly soothed his hair back. She kept kissing his forehead and whispering loving words to him, leaning over him, and he lavished in her love towards him.

All he said was “Thank you, my love. Thank you.” and drifted off to sleep.

______________________________________________________

Next Ch. 49 : https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/188153222176/starshine-ch49-jimmy-page

Chapter Index for “Starshine” is located at bottom section of Ch.1 , click here : https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/post/184383708541/starshine-ch-1-jimmy

Link to “In The Light” - original fan fic - https://ritacaroline.tumblr.com/Fan%20Fiction

JimJam Mistresses : @tremble-and-shake @ledoftherings @gimmeeshelter @adonna1964 @justanotherzosofangirl @starchild0985 @girlofthemoon75 @bonscottintheimpala @12909168 @jjullz @cherryfloyd @tenementcrazylittlefruitcake @save-me-from-the-gallows-pole @soy-laprincessa @marauderofworlds @ultrabitchystudentperfectionus @satanspizzadeliveryguy @misspenylane @zi-zidane @catherine0627 @pagingpage-the-original @amythesticon @strangerspassinginthestreet @ thezeppelinbeatles @pour-some-sugar-on-mee @carryfire18 @j-james-thlk @70shoney @strange-broo @page-daddy @nadianad1337 @yerawizardjimmeh @jimmyypagey @magnetacuddles84 @rock6880 @ledxzeppelin @kinkyspice @thelandofnevermore @my-golden-lion @itsblackbetty @luvejimmy @palenickelsaladparty @jennmarieetn @honeydewgroupie @how-many-more-times-blog @loveinher-eyess @rocknrollababes-blog @princesssofpeace @frauweide @dontyouhearmecallingyou @zozjaa @miniaturewinnerwonderland @http-jinx @chennington @venicebeachx @wanna-be-groupie @where-the-hot-springs-blow @basementmermaid @crying-over-rock-legends @cherrrywitch @scarletrossetti @sixpackonthefrontseat @miamorjimmypage @jimmypageismylife @pennylane1968 @jlmmypage *Please advise if you would like to be tagged or untagged. #Fan Fiction #submission3 notes

#Fan Fiction #submission #jimmy page fan fic jimmy page fanfiction jimmy page fan fiction led zeppelin

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

ask your destiny to dance [3] {Roger Taylor}

[masterpost]

“I think I’m going to start wearing sequins to work.” It’s an idle thought that Ash speaks into existence on Wednesday afternoon in the back of a lecture hall. Freddie’s slumped over his desk, barely paying attention to the professor at the front, and makes a noise of agreement.

“You should; more people should wear sequins to work.” Yawning loudly, he waves off the professor’s stare with a weak smile, before resting his head on his arms to look at Ash. “You’ve already got it ready, don’t you?” Half-smiling as she nods, grinning bashfully.

“Black sequinned, button up, sleeveless.” Whistling low through her teeth, Ash’s eyes glazed over at the mere thought of the shirt. “I’m gonna get so many tips.” After a beat, she flushed, turning her mischievous expression on Freddie. “And Smile’s playing, so Dave’ll be in the back room all night.” At his confused look, Ash leaned down to rest her own cheek against the desk, eye to eye with her friend. “Okay, so they’re the only uni band we hire, usually it’s just middle-aged dudes trying to be hip,” she rolls her eyes at that, and Freddie has to repress a smile of his own, “and good ol’ Uncle Dave takes one look at ‘em walking through the front door and he’ll grab a bottle o’ rum from the back shelf and wave me over to them,” her voice has dropped so that only Freddie could hear her, and he can see her barely contained laughter, “which, while hilarious, means I can wear basically anything I want.”

“Don’t you do that anyways?” Freddie’s grinning outright now, amused at Ash’s quiet passion, but she doesn’t seem offended by the question, just laughs.

“I mean, yeah, but Dave’s always there and I don’t want him seeing me with like, more than three buttons undone.” Sighing wistfully, Ash closes her eyes, lets herself relax against the desk. “But every time Smile plays, he fucks off, I can undo a few extra buttons- Fred, I made like fifty pounds in tips last time! Fifty! Ate like a king at McDonalds that night.” It took everything Freddie had in him not to burst out laughing at her content expression, but moments later when the class was dismissed, he couldn’t help himself.

“At least buy yourself some real food now that you’ve got a job.” He admonishes her, ignoring her groan of protest.

“But no shops are open at two in the morning, Freds,” she whined, dragging her feet as she trailed behind him, cutting through the swathe of other students as they headed to the exit, “at that point I’m just hungry, and hamburgers are easy to find and so good.”

“How you function in regular society continues to baffle me.” He said fondly as the two of them made their way to their favourite afternoon coffee spot, bickering back and forth as they were often want to do. The week passes relatively uneventfully, and by the time it’s Friday, and Dave has complimented her appropriately buttoned, sequinned shirt, - “It’s nice; it’ll go over well with the kids.” - he’s all but absconded into his office as the band walks through the door.

“Evenin’ boys!” Maureen greets them warmly from behind the bar, drying off cups and hanging them up. Ash is already making her way around to greet them, grinning brightly at the trio.

“Hey, how’s it going boys? Ready for a good show?” It’s the fifth time they’ve performed here in just over two months, and Ash feels like she’s really getting to know them. After their final set for the past three times she’s taken a smoke break, the first time she and Brian shared a cigarette, the two of them looking up at the stars as he tried to point out constellations around the light pollution.

“You really know a lot about this stuff, don’t you?” She smiles at him, fondly amused, and he smiles back, a toothy grin filled with pride.

“I’d hope so, uni’s too bloody expensive to have it wasted.” And that’s how she learns he’s studying astrophysics. He joins her again the next time, though she’s quiet, listening as he and Roger banter back and forth about the quality of their performances for the night. Her hatred of Roger had softened somewhat, though it’s probably because she refuses to speak more than three words to him outside of serving him at the bar, so she feels like she hasn’t had to really deal with him.

She’s seen him, of course, picking up pretty girls at Maureen’s end of the bar, the way they practically drape themselves over him at the sofa by the stage, has heard Brian complain more than once;

“At least go to her place, need I remind you how thin our walls are?” And maybe when she hears it for the first time she chokes on smoke in her lungs and Brian has to slap her on the back to try and help her through it. And maybe the second time her pencil presses down on the line of the dress she’s sketching a little too harshly, a little off from where she wanted, enough that she has to scrap the whole page, but that’s just what he’s like, she knew it from the moment she saw him, and part of her thinks she’s happy to be proven right.

The last time they’d played, Tim talked her ear off about his own performance while Roger and Brian loaded their stuff into the back of Roger’s van, and while Tim’s self-importance bored her almost to tears, she amused herself watching Roger become increasingly annoyed. Small victories.

“It’s going well, thanks Rocket, how about you?” Brian puts his guitar case down by the stage to walk forward and wrap Ash in a hug, which she returns.

“I’m good; always better with you guys around, I can pretend I’m in charge.” And she’s grinning brightly when she steps back. Brian’s always been the friendliest of the bunch, well, Roger may take the top spot for that in general, but not in the way that counts. Speaking of Roger, when she spots him, he’s actually giving her a smile, though his eyes are fixed more on her shirt.

“You’re very sparkly tonight, Ash.” Tim’s mild grin snaps her out of where she was forming a suspicious glare at the drummer, and she smoothed out her shirt, enjoying the sensation of the sequins passing beneath her fingers.

“It’s a good look on you.” Roger adds, gaze moving up to look at her face, and she gives him a proud little smirk in return.

“Made it myself.” And she lets herself bathe in the surprised compliments they offered, ignoring Maureen laughing over by the bar. The boys start setting up and Ash heads back to grab them each a drink before students start pouring in.

By the time the first set’s finished, she’s unbuttoned two more buttons on her blouse and had an old man who looked very out of place surrounded by students try and slip £10 directly into her cleavage. Taking the money from him and placing it there herself, she gives him his drink and her most winning smile before turning to the next customer.

“So that’s what it’s for, to distract hapless young men so you can take their cash?” Roger was grinning at her across the bar and Ash felt her whole body tense.

“What?” She snapped, not taking her eyes off of his as she tucked the note further out of sight, though his own eyes followed the movement.

“The shiny shirt.” He explained, finally pulling his gaze back up to meet hers. Gaze icy, she cocked her hip, crossing her arms beneath her chest. A single raised eyebrow was all the answer he received, though it seemed to be enough of a confirmation for him as his smile stretched into one of mischief, and he ordered another round of drinks for the band. She gives him her sharpest smile when she passes them over, but doesn’t say anything, and he leaves with a smirk and an eye roll.

“This whole passive-aggressive ‘hating-me’ thing is getting old, Pocket Rocket.” He’s the only one of the band members who uses the full nickname anymore, and she’s pretty sure he’s taking the piss every time he does. The other two band members are still inside when she goes on her break after they finish for the night. She hasn’t even pulled out her lighter when the back door comes crashing open and Roger walks through; he doesn’t even see her before he starts talking, just knows she’s there.

“Alright, I’ll drop the passive;” she said, focusing on the flick of her her lighter and taking the first puff of the cigarette before looking up at him, “fuck off.” The words were spoken around the cigarette, but even so, a phrase that universal was understandable no matter how it’s said.

“I’m just wondering what I did to warrant it.” Turning, he leaned against the closed doors of the van, crossing his arms as he looks back at her.

“I don’t like you, Roger,” Ash leaned back in kind, kicking her legs out in front of her, crossing her ankles as she relaxed against the brick wall, “because you’re the sort of boy who breaks pretty girls’ hearts.” As if to punctuate her statement, she takes another draft on her cigarette, and tries not to read into the way Roger’s regarding her curiously.

“Pretty girls like you?” It takes her a moment to recognise his tone, not that she hadn’t heard it before, not that hadn’t even used it herself before, but because he’d never been so brazen about it with her. He was flirting! The nerve!

“Oh, you wish.” Ashe couldn’t help but laugh at that, hating the blush that rose in her cheeks as she looked away, casting her gaze to the road at the edge of the car park. Roger watched for a long moment, enjoying the genuine, if amused, smile that lit up her face; he was so used to seeing the artificial mask she put up whenever she focused on him.

“You’re a hypocrite, love.” He calls, and the smile is gone in an instant, replaced with a frown that she levels directly at him. It doesn’t deter him, however, it was something he’d been wanting to bring up for the past two weeks, after he did a little digging about her, seeing if any of his friends from uni knew about her. “Yeah, I know about you and your first year, Ashley.” Her blood runs cold, expression was unreadable, which only served to make him more smug. “We do have a few friends in common, you know; pretty boys with broken hearts.” And finally he felt like he had clawed back to an inch of moral high ground.

For a long moment, she looks at him, expression fading to a thoughtful frown, cigarette sizzling away in her grip, though she did nothing about it. It’s still mostly intact, but she throws it on the ground, stamping the cigarette out with the heel of her boot against the gravel.

“‘s not the same.” Her voice is hollow, lips pursed, avoiding his gaze. Standing, she seems to hover for a moment, unsure of whether or not she was going to head back inside. “I’m a slut but I’m not a romantic about it, I’m not some wannabe rockstar reeling in boys with doe-eyed looks that promise the world, unlike some people.” Whole demeanour shifting, Roger’s surprised when she steps towards him, sneering.

“I never really went for boys.” Roger mused, deliberately missing the point of her words as he moved from the van, meeting her halfway.

“You know what I’m saying; I only ever promised one night, don’t flatter me by thinking that’s all it takes for me to break a heart.” Her voice was a dangerous purr, the two of them standing barely a foot apart.

“And you think one night with me- ?” He’s grinning at her, nothing but amused in the face of her anger.

“Don’t flatter yourself either, you prey upon girls who already think you hang stars in the sky, it’s not the night that breaks them, it’s the morning after.” Ash snarls, her rant having filled her with adrenaline, and she waits, buzzing with anticipating about how he’d respond.

“You willing to test that theory?” With a tilt of his head and a slight smile, he looks her up and down, quietly delighting in the way her expression shifts from thinly veiled rage to shock.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The words spill from her mouth, as if she’s barely aware of them, but Roger huffs out a laugh.

“I’m willing to try anything to get you to stop glaring at me when I come up for a beer.” He murmured with a cheeky grin, and there’s that rage again, clear as day in her eyes. “Love, you’re like me,” he says it like it’s a compliment, reaching his hand to hold her chin. Something in his heart grew warm watching the way the gentle touch changed her expression from furious to softly surprised, “so we can both know it’s just a bit of fun, nothing more.”

“So which girl do you have lined up for when I say no?” Her voice tone was quietly accusing, and Roger raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“None.” He admitted easily. “I’m only promising one night, and you get to test that broken heart theory of yours.”

“God, you’re so fucking arrogant,” she mumbled under her breath, squinting up at him; “one night,” she agrees, “and no I don’t think you hang stars in the sky, so there’s no chance of heartbreak.”

“But what if you’re the heart breaker?” Roger asks, mostly joking, though he’s already sliding his hand around her waist, pulling her close.

“Then you should have developed a harder heart before trying to sleep your way across the UK.” And she’s smiling in return, moving with him as he pulls her in for a kiss. He tastes like beer mostly, the scents of the pub sticking to him as she wraps her arms around him. Pulse racing, she’s the one who deepens the kiss, shifting to her tiptoes to get closer to him, but that only makes him laugh and pull away.

“This is the single worst pick up I’ve ever been on the receiving end of.” She purses her lips, breaking the embrace as she begins to step back to the bar.

“Does that include the middle-aged man slipped a tenner in between your boobs?” Roger calls after her, and to his surprise, Ash is smiling back at him when she looks over her shoulder, sunny and amused.

“Well yeah, I got a ten pounds out of it, didn’t I?” And he can’t really argue with her logic as he begins to follow her back inside to the rest of the band. “What do I get from you?” She smirks, and Roger lengthens his stride to join her as she walks through the door.

“I can’t tell you with company around.” His voice low as he murmured in her ear.grinning as she let out a quiet squeak of surprise. “But it’ll be worth it.”

the ususal suspects: @deakydickfanpage @hollyissuchahoe @laueecakee@smittyjaws @crystalshines2909 @i-am-sarah @legendsaresooftenwarnings@2ptonpt @benhardy24-7 @maiilovely @mickey-yr-a-goner @butter-times@heyyouitskay @tired-eyes-fairy-lights @yepimthatperson @missieluvsmurder @ironqueen98

[buy me a coffee?]

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #freddie mercury #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #brian may #ask your destiny to dance fic #the angry lizard writes

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cecilspeaks · 5 years

Text

141 - Save Dark Owl Records

The prison of your own mind is undergoing budget cuts.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Today I’d like to open the show with a statement from a local business owner, Michelle Nguyen.

Michelle: An insidious presence has invaded our town. That presence is located in the Night Vale mall and is called the Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. I’ve seen you shopping there, Night Vale, and I want you to know you’re all murderers with the figurative blood of independent record stores dripping from your hands. “No, no” you’ll say, “that isn’t figurative blood, it’s literal barbecue sauce from the Black Angus barbeque bacon burger and it’s delicious!” You’ll keep blathering on how about “Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express keeps thick juicy beef burgers layered in between your albums, so you can flip past them and impulse eat as you shop. It’s so convenient!” [angrily] Well you know what? Convenience is another words for laziness. When you come to my store, to Dark Owl Records, you have to earn your music! Our extensive underground section is kept literally underground, and you have to dig random holes in the dirt to find it. We don’t provide you with a shovel, you can’t even bring your own. You must use your fingers. Broken knuckles and fingernails peeled back to the quick are the sign of a true music lover. Sometimes, you won’t find music you think you like, but then you realize that the rhythmic grunts and scrapes of bloodied hands into rocky earth is itself music.

Anyway, come to my fundraiser tonight at Dark Owl Records. It’s a party, and parties are the worst, but I don’t have the money to pay my bills anymore and it’s your fault, so just show up and do the right thing, or I’ll go out of business. Ok, thanks!

Cecil: Thank you, Michelle. Our radio station is doing a remote broadcast live today at the Save Dark Owl fundraiser. We’ll do some interviews and there’ll be live bands, and it should be a lot of fun. Hope you see you down here, Night Vale! Come show your support for local small business.

But first, a word from our sponsor. Today’s program is brought to you by the Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. The popular franchise mashup had its grand opening only three weeks ago and is already a booming success. From their regional frosty treats, like the cactus thorn malt, to their wide selection of best of complication albums. There’s something for everyone at Food Barn Gladtown Records Express. And by popular demand, there’s now extra fry sauce on everything, including the Bluetooth headphones. You don’t even have to ask for it. You have to ask if you don’t want fry sauce, and you have to give a good reason why not, like uh, a signed doctor’s note. Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. Your community entertainment culture conglomerate.

And now, a public service announcement.

Deb: Hey old friends! Corporeal humans, cor-corporeal humans, former babies, future corpses, this is Deb, a sentient patch of haze, speaking for the department of motor vehicles. We know you haven’t heard from us in a while. But [blows raspberry] we haven’t heard from you either. Relationships are a, [clicks tongue] two-way street, so to speak. But [hiccups], I know there’s been some tension and things have gotten a little weird between us. No need to get into that right now. Or ever again, as far as we’re concerned. But if you wanna come over some time and just talk, just say hi or anything, then the department of motor vehicles will be opening our doors for one hour every weekday between 2 and 3. That’s all we have to give emotionally right now. Self..care. We would like to see you again though just to [emotionally] hear your voice. We hope you’ve been doing well. [hiccups] We’re a little drunk, and it’s late. Man, we just got done watching Carol for the third time in a week. [angrily] And you haven’t really been posting on social media lately, so we just wanna know what’s going on with you. [drinking noises] Again, no pressure, no strings attached, and if it gets crowded you could always take a number as usual. But the DMV wants you to know whether your number 19 or 99, you’re always number 1 to us! [snorts] [cries] We, we miss you. We miss you.

Cecil: Listeners, we’re here live at Dark Owl Records, and the fundraiser is getting off to a great start! People are buying shards of records they dug out of the ground, there’s a cake with thick black frosting and undulating tendrils. Mm, looks delicious! There’s an effigy of the Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express with a lot of long pins sticking out of it. And at the center of all the excitement is Dark Owl owner herself, Michelle Nguyen, and her girlfriend Maureen. What a treat! Hey you two, wanna say hello to all of Night Vale? Ah that’s weird. Uh, Michelle sent me a text right now while simultaneously staring unblinkingly into my eyes from three feet away. Uh, her text says: “We heard the spot you did for Burger Barn Gladtown Rec Ex and we are not speaking to you at this time. Please leave my party, Cecil.” Oh I get it, oh no, this is a, a simple misunderstanding, Michelle. See, in radio journalism, we have a moral responsibility to play ads and make lots of money. I see where you’re confused. Does that help clear things up? Aaand Maureen is pouring ice coffee all over my laptop. I’ll go find a towel, while you go to the weather.

[A Pale Sun Rises Over New York" by Scrawnyman, https://scrawnyman.bandcamp.com]

Michelle: Hey, this is Michelle. Cecil had to go away, but there was a hastily assumed agreement I would take over the show while he’s gone, so here I am, Michelle. Broadcasting live from my own party, which is better than mingling with people and being all social and stuff, right? Uh, no offense to anyone who’s here, but this is the first party I’ve ever agreed to attend and it was only out of desperation. I mean, all parties are born out of some form of desperation. Ugh, parties are the worst! I wish everyone would go home. No, no, don’t go home, it’s so nice that you’re here… I guess. But you know what else is nice? Being alone. Or mostly alone. That’s really what independent record stores stand for, you know? Individuality, independence, isolation. Don’t follow the herd, go home, be alone. It’s the best.

Oh shoot, I was afraid something like this would happen. I mean, everything’s fine, there’s just a little situation out back. I’m gonna hand the mic over to Maureen while I deal with this.

Maureen: Um, hello? Hey, uh, this is Maureen. Don’t be scared or anything. A-actually be scared, but not about what I’m going to tell you. So what happened is some people were digging in the underground music section and the ground kind of split apart and now there’s a giant, like arthropod thing. Uh, it’s tearing people’s limbs off and whatever. Seems really mad and people are screaming, there’s like a lot of blood, blood is so stupid. But Michelle has it under control now. She’s kicked out everyone but the spider crustacean thing, because it was the only one who wasn’t being fake about its love of music. So yeah um, come on down to the store. Uh remember: we’re here to save Dark Owl! And even though the biggest section is the not for sale rack, there’s still a lot of great things to choose from. I know that some of the best things I’ve ever found have been here. Michelle, for one. Uh, don’t tell her I said that.

Also earlier today, I was crawling around inside the ventilation system, and I thought it would be really narrow and claustrophobic like air closed shafts usually are, but actually it kept growing wider and taller until I could stand up and walk around. I could even run if I wanted to. The ducts and passageways unfolded in front of me and I felt totally lost, but in a good way. I ran and ran and somewhere along the way I lost my flashlight and it didn’t matter. I could see with a sense other than vision, maybe it was taste. Ductways tasted like an everything bagel, and that guided my way. Then I could taste voices outside the vents. A voice I knew well was talking to a customer about a color limited edition single of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” on one side and “Love Will Keep Us Together” on the other. The record’s cover art depicted the eruption of Mount St Helens, but like a year before it actually happened, which makes it super valuable. I followed the taste of their voices, which was like green apples but the artificial candy flavor version, and I ended up in the obsolete media bunker behind the register, where I lay down on a pile of warm Sheena Easton singles and CD-roms filled with corrupted Limewire files. And that’s where I am now. Aand I’m gonna take a nap. Bye! [snoring]

Michelle: Hey Night Vale, I’m back. It’s all under control now. Sorry, I have kind of a contentious relationship with my neighbor Matt. He’s a 15-foot coconut crab that lives underneath the lot behind our store. We usually get along OK, but he really does not like parties, and I should have told him in advance, but I was busy and totally forgot, so my bad. Anyway, I let Matt eat the patrons who were wearing airpods and he was happy, so the party is still going strong. Most of the people are dead or have been kicked out, but I wanna make it clear that the party is still happening. So come on down to Dark Owl Records and save our store! Honestly, things are so much better now that everyone’s gone, so this is really the perfect time to show up. We have some special listening stations where you can browse all your favorite genres, like silence, post-silence, proto-silence, under-silence… I know you guys might not have heard of under-silence yet, but that’s like when the headphones are projecting what’s inside of you back into your own ears and you can hear your internal organs processing blood and fluids, and you’re filled with the awe of how all these seemingly archaic gooey parts can possibly work together to keep you alive and functioning, and you eventually pass out and/or vomit.

[sighs] I really don’t know what I’ll do if I have to leave this place. I’ve spent so much time here, I don’t even remember where my house is. One night after work, I walked down the street I thought it was on, but nothing looked familiar. And I kept walking for hours. I finally saw my house, but when I walked in, the door opened into the kitchen instead of the living room, and there was this family I’d never seen before eating dinner. There were four large serving bowls of mashed root vegetables on the table. The family didn’t notice me at all, they ate their mush and talked about their days. The mom was worried about the new boss at work, and the son forgot to go to his dentist appointment, and the daughter had a chemistry test that went okay. I didn’t want to freak them out, so I et myself out the back door and kept walking until it as morning. And in the cacophonous creak of dawn, I ended up back at Dark Owl just in time to open for the new day. And it didn’t matter, you know, that I couldn’t find my house because –

Wait, what’s this? An empty-eyed courier child just handed me an envelope. There’s a, there’s a check inside, and it’ a coupon for something called the “100 percent fish hot dog”, and a hand written note. It says, “Hello, my name is Jules, and I’m the franchise owner at the new Burger Barn Gladtown Records Express. Here is the rest of the money for your fundraising goal. When you become a franchise owner like me, you’ll think to yourself, ‘oh cool I’m an entrepreneur now, I’m going to be my own boss. I’m finally going to have agency in my life, you know?’ At least that’s what I thought when I filled out he online personality test that told me I had what it takes. I’m a type 23: outgoing but grounded. I’m detail-oriented but I can also see the big picture. I’m competitive, but I follow the rules. Classic type 23.” The note goes on. “But there are so many rules, Michelle. You have to conform when you’re in a franchise. And if you don’t, you’ll go under. Not merely monetarily, but to this place they refer to only as the cavern. If you end up there, you don’t ever come out again. Anyway, one rule is that we need at least one business competitor to remain open at all times. Until our lobbyists overturn the Sherman anti-trust act, we need Dark Owl Records to stay in business. So please take this money. I don’t wanna go to the cavern. Please, Michelle. Sincerely, Jules.”

OK, not sure how to deal with this right now if I’m honest. This person opened up a rival record franchise, and now they wanna give me money from their corporation to stay in business? I dunno. I need to go soul searching. I need to listen to some ambient room tone tracks used under famous movie scenes. I really like the one from the diner in “When Harry Met Sally”. Whatever, I guess. [steps, door closes]

[steps] Cecil: Night Vale, I’m so sorry I left you. I went to get a towel to clean up the spilled ice coffee, and there was this giant spider lobster thing, he-he cornered me and I couldn’t escape. He just kept talking and talking and god, he was boring! The worst person to run into at a party. I didn’t know how to get out of the conversation without being rude, uh I finally said I’d go grab us both a slice of cake and sidled out of there. I hope everything went OK while I was gone. Let’s see. Oh, there’s no one really left. The radio gear has been abandoned except a sleeping Maureen under my chair. There’s an inordinate amount of blood on the floor, and hey looks like the little cardboard thermometer that shows the fundraising goal has been fully colored in! Wow! We did it Night Vale! I guess that means there’s enough money to keep Dark Owl in business, at least through this month’s bills. That’s the thing about bills, they keep happening.

Well, whatever the future holds, the party was clearly a success. As was this ultra fun remote broadcast. So music lovers, kick back, put on your fry sauce-dosed headphones, listen to your newly purchased album shards, and put some vitamin E cream on those knuckles! Stay tuned next for the cla-cla-clack of CD cases being browsed, like a fluttery little heartbeat in the darkness.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: A good way to tell if an artistic idea is worthwhile is to remember that the most successful video game of all time is “a plumber steps on turtles”, so who knows?

#welcome to night vale #eisode 141 #save dark owl records #wtnv transcripts

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