#the angle of johns guitar killEd me
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The delicate beginning rush
Instagram photo dump II
Masterlist
Instagram photo dump masterlist
Chapters I -> IV
Previous photo dump
To be added to the tag click here
Pairing Austin Butler x singer/actress fem reader
Fake everything
𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯𐄱𐄯
finneas
Liked by y/n4real.2002, jackantonoff and 799,872others
finneas: just cool vintage clothes and vacation photos… 📸: me :)
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y/n4real.2002: oh god I sound crazy… rather be, rather be - anyone anyone else 💜
↳fan3.s: what? Nooo don’t play us like this. Another song? Best-friend isn’t even out yet 😱
↳fan_lk: I just know she’s gonna drop a whole album on us, that caption from the Best-friend announcement was cryptic as hell
↳fan23: the electric guitar, the vibe, the person 🥵
billieeilish: girl you’re way too hot to be real, just come over already.
↳y/n4real.2002: omw 😏
↳billiefan29: they are the best couple waiting to happen.
↳fan4_: ugh for the millionth time, neither of them said they are queer so STOP
↳billiefan_3: lie all you want
taylorswift: patiently waiting for great things
↳y/n4real.2002: 💜💜💜 my queen. Thanks for the guitar (it was a gift for my 19th B-day) and for all the guidance and support.
↳fan1: this is so exciting, I love these two. Also that guitar as a gift?! Iconic
↳fan5-6: not sure she guided you very well girl, ur man is a John Mayer in waiting
↳ts.32.fan: 3 Purple Hearts?? Speak now (tv)?🤡
↳tsfan_ts: fan5-6 haha you’re killing me
jackantonoff: only the tip of the iceberg
↳y/n4real.2002: oh they don’t even know 🤫
y/n4real.2002
Liked by finneas, austinbutler and 2.383.595others
y/n4real: she was too young to be the Hollywood type…too pure to understand the lows and the highs…and a busy 🐝.
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roxanne.02_b1tch: damn girl, make some time for me??
↳y/n4real.2002: for you? Always 😚
tchalamet: you go little dumpling, the best ever.
↳y/n4real.2002: haha don’t call me that
↳fan3: guys we love you so so much
↳tcfan_2: damn icons
tsfan13: y’all see that TS right? It’s not just me!!
↳ts.rep.fan: definitely there, I’m scared to clown tho 🤡
↳fan3.3.3: we will all join you, don’t be shy
abfan.elvis: um Austin liked this😱 He liked her post
↳ab.ep.fan: don’t know if I should fangirl or…
↳kaiafan3: they aren’t even being sneaky about this 🤮
kaiaGfan: at least have the respect to not be so in our faces
↳fan_23: so friends are not allowed to like each other’s posts now?
↳kaiafan.2: not sure they are just friends
↳ab.2022.fan: for sure, sketchy, they way the just met and now they are besties?
thatgossip.blog: Austin liking this further proves my point that they are messing around
↳fan.2: all gossip, just leave them alone
billieeilish
Liked by y/n4real.2002, billiefan5 and 2.998.003others
billieeilish: seeing my girls in NY this week was the highlight of my month. Love you y/n4real.2002 and roxanne.02_b1tch. Love you my crazy bitches
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y/n4real.2002: hugging you?! Best feeling ever…💓
↳billieeilish: 😈 I won
↳billiefan_4: this feeds my heart soooo goooood
roxanne.02_b1tch: haha always a pleasure
↳billieeilish: aw🥹
billiefan.blog: this is so amazing to see them all together in so long.
↳fan35: yeah they are keeping us fed and happy 😔 lovely angles
tsfan: no but y/n needs to post with Taylor soon cause their friendship is also iconic.
↳fan_e: omg yes I miss seeing pictures of them 😭😭
↳fan.594: haha they are for sure cooking something up with all this silence
↳ts.fan.13: hope so….I hope for a collab on Y/n’s album
↳fan_3-3: we don’t know if she’s putting out an album tho.
↳ts-fan: here’s to hoping 😭
y/n.daily.updates
Liked by fan.23 fan_r-23 and 394.393others
y/n.daily.updates: today y/n4real.2002 and austinbutler were spotted out on a walk in Brooklyn, the two shared a few laughs and had some food, before fleeing together after a rude fan approached them. The man, seen in the red jacket, apparently when Y/n denied e picture with him, he started calling her names and bringing up her lingerie photos she had to take for her role as Amelia. #y/n #austinbutler #gossip
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fan1: why did you put the pictures of her in lingerie on your post? You know she doesn’t liked them being overly shared.
↳y/n.daily.updates: well the pictures exist so.. and they are public
↳fan34_4: no real fan would do this, knowing how she feels about those
fan.ts.13: that man was so rude and disgusting. Apparently Austin defended her, so we Stan him.
↳kaiafan: Stan a cheater? Kay you do you.
↳fan-fr: they are just friends
↳kaia_fan: I don’t believe it, but I guess gaslight all you want
abfan_93: glad he defended her, but still this meet up should’ve never happened. I’m team Kaia
↳kaia.2.fan: damn right
↳ab.fan34: Austin deserves to be happy
↳ab-fan: he has a girlfriend… at lest brake up with her before. Stop finding excuses just cause you like him.
↳fan.293: but we don’t know the whole story..
fan_love: what if we just leave them alone?
hater.11: with those pictures out there what that fan said should be no surprise🙄
↳fan_383: I’d like to see you in her place, see how tough you’re then
Tags: @kittenlittle24 @amorx @cryingabtab @lexicox044 @lrissa @feral4austinbutler @sageskywalker @jesssssicaa @rainydayz101 @flwersgarden @bobthefishiesworld @captured-memory @homebodybirkin2003 @galaxygirl453 @butlerslut @chrisevansgirl34 @myradiaz @pennyroyalcreep @macey234 @im-lame-irl @lordandmistress @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @poppet05 @gabbywontlose @4shbug @0-thegoodwitch-0 @hauntedarchivesx @chewiethecatus @sunnyx07 @francesbloomer @jessaroni19 @finelineskies @stargirlbytheweekend @cerenaydins-blog @girlblogger2002 @gigisworldsstuff @my-baexht-Is @xmusselisims @denised916 @bluepeacheslandia @kibumslatina @samaraannhan20 @goldobsessionworld @silliypapercreatorangle @cmrxac @donnamarie23 @justarandomfamdomblog @marlowmode @natsnosehair @xxgggooomm @banksmars @namoreno @areuirish
#the delicate beginning rush#austin butler smut#baz luhrmann elvis#elvis fans#austin butler#elvis and priscilla#elvis biopic#elvis film#elvis songs#austin butler elvis#elvis smut#austin butler x reader#instagram#timothee chalamet#billieellishedit#taylor swift
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Russell Senior birthday 18.05.23. A flashback to 1980 - 19 year old Russell created this Sheffield Edition of The Bath Banker Fanzine, 30p including free fortune telling fish!
I have transcribed as best as I can - the fanzine scans (PulpWiki & Bar Italia Forum) show the original fanzine is faded and so it was hard to read in many areas. I've kept in the spelling mistakes.
I believe the rest of the fanzine was scanned (but not uploaded) but not positive about that. As ever, always on the lookout for an actual copy ... hopeful, but not holding my breath.
Text below:
PULP—Teenage Kicks riff on ½ acoustic guitars but different words. They claim to have written "Stepping Stone" - it's the definative version! "Subtlety time, dedicated to Elvis" sounds like "Don't Fear the Reaper" a bit. A dirge. "Message for the Marshians" with a keyboardist who hadn't learnt the other songs. Another dirge. The appearance of the front man is entertaining. A fun band. Tuning up of hopelessly out of tune semi-acc. "Happy House" riff out of tune, different words. "I won't say that this is the penultimate song because that's pretentious. "This is for dancing but I don't suppose anybody's going to dance. Sounds like "Christine" and is a disco spoof! I wonder what Kieth Strong would say. Vast cheering for encore.
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THE CURE
APPARTMENT
PASSIONS
BRISTOL LOCARNO
ANOTHER LATE JOURNEY BY TRAIN
INTO A PUB WHERE WE HAD A LITTLE GAME (WHICH YOU MIGHT LIKE TO TRY YOURSELF) THE FIRST PERSON TO SAY YES OR NO HAD TO ASK THE BARMAN HOW OLD THE WATTLE ON THE ROOF WAS. OF COURSE BARMEN DON’T USUALLY KNOW WHAT WATTLE IS SO THE LOSER WOULD LOOK A PRAT, AND INDEED WAS.
ONTO THE HALL AND VARIOUS MODS, PUNKS AND RUDE BOYS WERE BROODING ABOUT. INSIDE IT WAS JUST LIKE A TOP RANK ONLY MORE PLUSH. THE FIRST BAND CAME ON AND PLAYED A GOOD SET OF FAIRLY STRAIGHT “NEW MUSAK” THE QUALITY OF THE SONGWRITING WAS VERY HIGH, INTERESTING AND CATCHY AT TIMES WEIRD. THIS WON THEM INCREASING APPLAUSE AND ENCORE CALL. THEY A DIFFICULT JOB TO DO BECAUSE THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE NIGHT WASN’T EXACTLY CONDUICIVE FOR A BAND IN THEIR POSITION TO GO DOWN WELL. WORTH SEEING IN A SMALLER VENUE AS A MAIN BAND. SHARP TREBLY GUITAR CONTRASTED WITH A RUBLY BASS SO THAT THE TWO SOUNDS WERE TOTALLY SEPARATE. THE VOCALIST (THAT MEANS SINGER BUT SOUNDS MORE INTELLECTUAL) DID SOME POPPING, TINNY SOLOS USING HARMONICA TO GOOD EFFECT.
THE PASSIONS WERE A VERY ODD BAND, PERHAPS THE MOST EXPERIMENTAL OF THE NIGHT. THE LEAD SINGER & BASE WERE WOMEN IN ILL-FITTING SUITS. THE GUITAR DOMINATED THE SOUNDS BY USING VARIOUS EFFECTS AND TAPES. THE MUSIC DIDN’T GRAB ME MUCH, THOUGH IT COULD WELL DO ON REPEATED LISTENING. DISCORDANT, “HUNTED” IS ONE THE LESS EXTREME SONGS SOULFUL SINGING. UNFORTUNATELY THEY HAD TO GO OFF AFTER FIVE SONGS AS A MIKE WOULDN’T STOP FEEDING BACK. NOT THE KIND YOU HEAR ON NOEL EDMUNDS. BUT NEITHER ARE THE CURE AND HE PLAYS THEM. (SHAME COS ONLY JOHN PEEL SHOULD PLAY GOOD BANDS.)
SO TIME FOR THE BIG BAND. VARIOUS TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES. MINIMAL EQUIPMENT AND CREW MEANS A LONG TIME GETTING THINGS JUST RIGHT, PARTICULARLY THE ANGLE OF THE LIGHTS. “NEW MUSICAL CONCEPT – JUST WATCH THE ROADIES SETTING UP” QUIPPED A WAG. CHANTS GO UP. EVENTUALLY THEY PEEP AROUND THE CURTAINS SMILING, RAPPORT IS IMMEDIATELY ESTABLISHED. THIS MUSIC WAS LIKE A DREAM, DRIFTS OF WORDS AND MUSIC, COOL INTROSPECTIVE, THOUGHTFUL, ETHEREAL DREAM/NIGHTMARE. THEY HAD AN ATMOSPHERE THE BAND DID NOTHING BUT HAD AN AWESOME STAGE PRESENSE, NOT SUPERHEROES. SLEEPY HALF SHUT EYES, CAREFULLY POSITIONED LIGHTS SHONE UP AT ABOUT 15” FROM THE FLOOR BATHING ROBERT SMITH’S FACE WITH A SPECIAL GLOW. THE SONG “FOREST” WAS A MICROCHOSM OF THE CONCERT. AS IN THE SONG, THE CONCERT WENT DEEPER INTO THE FOREST TO GET LOST AMONGST POWERFUL IMAGES, “KILLING AN ARAB” WAS THE LEAST WELL PERFORMED SONG “GRINDING HALT” AND “FOREST” THE REST. MORE FORCE THAN THE ALBUMS. THE ATMOSPHERE CREATED SOMEWHAT ON RECORD WAS TOTAL IN CONCERT. FOREST HAD A FALSE ENDING AND STARTED UP AGAIN MUCH TO THE SURPRISE OF THE AUDIENCE. THEY WENT OFF AND CAME BACK TO TWO ENCORES WITH FIVE SONGS IN ALL. THEY DIDN’T GET THE RESPONSE THEY DESERVED BUT THEN THE CURE ARE A BAND TO SAVOUR NOT GO WILD ABOUT. THEY SOUND LIKE THE PICTURES ON THE RECORDS.
THE ROADIES SAID WE COULD SEE THE BAND IN 15 MINS AND WE GOT CHUCKED OUT AFTER 1O. A BAND IN EMPATHY WITH ONE ANOTHER INVISIBLE WIRES CONNECT THEM. STRONGLY RECOMMEND THAT YOU SEE THEM. – RUSSELL.
_________
YOU MAY HAVE HEARD THAT MARK JACKSON HAS BEEN BANNED FROM THE LEADMILL FOR SEXISM, AN ORGANIZATION I HAVE ADMIRATION FOR. SUSPECTING SOMETHING FISHY AND OUTRAGED AT THIS UNFAIR AND MISGUIDED ACT I QUESTION ONE OF THE ORGANIZERS. MY FAITH RESTORED SHE ASKED ME TO PRINT THAT IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM IS THIS TRUE. SO HERE IT IS:-
MARK JACKSON HAS NOT BEEN BANNED FROM THE LEADMILL.
AND ALL THE ORGANIZERS LIKE HIM AND SAY HE’S WELCOME BACK.
----------------------
1980 – THE FIRST 15 MINUTES – NEUTRON RECORSD
THERE MAY BE SOME PEOPLE WHO ARE UNFAMILIAR WITH THIS RECORD. IT HAS FOUR TRACKS BY FOUR SHEFIELD AREA BANDS. IT COSTS £1.20ISH. AND COMES IN ATTRACTIVE PACKAGING.
VICE VERSA – “GENETIC WARFARE” ELECTRONIC SYNTHEISED, SPACE. SOME BITS GOOD, OTHERS ? DERIVATIVE “I AM THE FLY/I LOVE MY WIFE”
I’M SO HOLLOW – “I DON’T KNOW” WAILING RIFF WHICH IS NOTHING SPECIAL, GOOD WAILING VOICE, STRANGELY HOOKY, VERY VERY, VERY, VERY….
CLOCK DVA – “BRIGADE” SONIC DRUMMING AND RIFF, CHUGGING MILITARISTIC RHYTHM, SPACE SAX AND KEYBOARDS, SINGING EMOTIVE, PIPING SOLOS, WAILING VOICE, CRESCENDOES, STRONGLY RECOMMENDED.
STUNT KITES – “BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE” DEFUNCT PUNK BAND, AN UNCOMPROMISED SEX PISTOLS “COME ON AND JOIN THE IN CROWD/ COME ON AND HAVE A BITCH.” “YOU’RE AFRAID TO LET YOUR HAIR DOWN COS IT MIGHT SPOIL THE DYE.” 1977 AT IT’S STUNT KITEST. ONE FINDS ONSELF SINGING IT IN THE STREET.
______________
ALTERNATIVE ENTS – MONOCHROME SET / ESSENTIAL LOGIC / FAD GADGET
______________
THE TICKETS FOR THIS DID NOT SELL WELL BECAUSE UNIVERSITY TASTES DO NOT VENTURE INTO ANYTHING REMOTELY REMOVED FROM COMMONPLACE.
IT WAS AN AMBITIOUS EVENT TO STAGE, CONSIDERING THE FACT THAT OUR LOVELY PREZ HAS TURNED DOWN THE UNDERTONES AND TOYAH AS BEING TOO RISKY. THERE WERE ABOUT 15 FILMS IN ALL. THE FIRST ONE CONSISTED OF A FEW DOTS BOUNCING UP AND DOWN. OTHER FILMS WERE A NAZI PROPAGANDA FILM, ANDY WARHOL BITING HIS LIP FOR 15 MINUTES, THE LONDON SCHOOL OF ECONOMICS SIT-IN. BY FAR THE BEST FILM WAS ONE ABOUT TWENTY MINS LONG IN B&W WHICH WAS, I THINK, FRENCH. IT WAS A SERIES OF SILENTLY CONNECTED NIGHTMARISH EVENTS. A MAN IN A STRNAGE DRESS CUTTING A LITTLE GIRLS EYE, A WOMAN IN A BUSY STREET SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE PUSHING A DISMEMBERED HAND ABOUT. THE MAN IN THE DRESS RIDING A BICYCLE TO A WOMANS HOUSE, GOING INSIDE AND ATTACKING HER. SHE FIGHTS HIM OFF AND FOR A WHILE HE STANDS BACK, THEN IN WHAT SEEMS TO BE A FLASH OF INSPIRATION HE STARTS PULLING ON A ROPE AND DRAGS TOWARDS HER A PIANO WITH A DEAD HORSE AND TWO PRIESTS WITH THEIR HEADS IN NOOSES. IT WAS AS GARBLED AS THIS ACCOUNT.
FAD GADGET WAS A ONE MAN BAND APART FROM ONE SONG WHEN A GUITARIST JOINED HIM. HE PLAYED SOUNDS ON A SYTHESISER AND SANG ALONG. THE CLIMAX OF THE SET WAS “COITUS INTERRUPTUS/MISSION IMPOSSIBLE” IN WHICH HE TRIED TO COPULATE WITH HIS SYNTHESISER WHILST SWALLOWING THE MICROPHONE IN UNDERSTANDABLE HEAVY BREATHING.. THE AUDIENCE DIDN’T QUITE KOW HOW TO TAKE THIS – HE WENT OFF TO CRIES OF “WANKER” OR WAS IT “BANKER.”
ESSENTIAL LOGIC WERE ESSENTIALLY PUNK WHICH STARTED PEOPLE BOPPING, HOWEVER THE SONGS STOPPED AND STARTED AND CHANGED TEMPO SO OFTEN THAT LIKE AS NOT YOU WERE LEFT LOOKING STUPID DANCING. EVENTUALLY PEOPLE GAVE UP. A SAD CASE OF PUTTING BREAKS IN FOR THE SAKE OF IT. APART FROM THAT THEY WERE GOOD, A LITTLE X-RAY SPEX. WHEN ANY PUNK GROUP WITH A FEMALE SINGER (LAURA LOGIC) HAS A SAX LEAD THERE ARE GOING TO BE COMPARISONS.
MONOCHROME SET DIDN’T GO DOWN TOO WELL, THEY LOOKED CONSPICUOUSLY ART COLLEGE TYPES. THEIR MUSIC IS NOT EASY TO PIN DOWN, MOR EXPERIMENTAL WITH A TOUCH OF NOEL COWARD. GOOD BUT NOT VERY. “MONOCHROME SET” THE SONG WITH ITS AIRY VOIICE AND SULTANESQUE (NEW WORD) GUITAR STOPED DRUMBEATS WAS TYPICAL BUT BY FAR THE MOST DISTINCTIVE. THE LEAD SINGER LOOKED LIKE HE CAME FROM A SILENT MOVIE. THE WHOLE GROUP SEEMED DISTANT AND FADED, NO AUDIENCE RAPORT – I’D SEE THEM AGAIN THOUGH.
THE GIG WASN’T TOO PEACEFUL, AN AIR OF MENACE, BLOKES AT THE FRONT WERE VICIOUS AND SOMETIMES THE BOUNCERS OVERDID IT, THINGS WERE THROWN, FIGHTING, SHAM 69 SCENES AT THE END WITH A STAGE INVASION AND OBSCENITIES SHOUTED DOWN THE MICROPHONE, DAMAGE. TOWN PEOPLE ARE MORE LIVELY BUT SOON THEY WON’T BE WANTED BECAUSE OF A DESTRUCTIVE MINORITY.
-----------------------------
CALLED NEW MODEL SOLDIER
(DERIVED FROM SHOP)
RUSS: TELL ME ABOUT YOUR BAND
DAVE: WELL, I MET MIGGS AND PAUL (THE OTHER TWO MEMBERS – PAUL PLAYS GUITAR AND MIGGS PLAYS BASS + GRINDS A LOT) AT THE CLASH CONCERT IN JANUARY OF THIS YEAR. [LOSE 10 STREET CRED POINTS]
RUSS: I THINK YOU SHOULD GET A KEYBOARDIST
DAVE: WHY? [WHY DOES HE LEAVE SPACES]
RUSS: BECAUSE IT WOULD ADD THE NECESSARY ATMOSPHERE THAT YOUR SONGS DEMAND BUT LACK. [ WHAT JOURNALISM!]
DAVE: WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF I SAID THAT WE WERE IN THE PROCESS OF GETTING A DRUMMER? [ARE THESE LYRICS]
RUSS: ER, GOOD IDEA.
DAVE: (SPEECHLESS)
RUSS: (PLOUGHS ON WITH NEXT QUESTION) i THINK THE THINGS WE’RE NOT SAYING ARE MORE INTERESTING THAT THE THINGS WERE ARE WRITING.
DAVE: i WOULD TEND TO AGREE WITH YOU ANYWAY, WE’VE BEEN TOGETHER AS A BAND SINCE THE END OF JANUARY… ER… ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO HEAR ALL THIS?
RUSS: NO! WHAT ABOUT YOUR MUSICAL DIRECTION?
DAVE: I WROTE THE LYRICS AND PAUL WROTE ALL THE MUSIC, NOT INFLUENCED LYRICALLY BY ANY OTHER GROUPS. MY MAIN INFLUENCE IS HORROR STORY WRITERS, STEPHEN KING, HP LOVECRAFT (SOUNDS LIKE A SEXSHOP). “SOMETHING WICKED” ABOUT ELDER [????] (STRANGE BUT FASCINATING WORLD OF NMS) AN AQUIRED TASTE LIKE YOGHURT. PEOPLE SAY “WHAT A LOAD OF SHIT” BUT GET TO LIKE US LATER. THE ATMOSPHERIC SONG ABOUT JACK THE RIPPER (REMINDS RUSS OF SUBWAY SONG) PAUL CHUCKED IT AT ME AND SAID “SING THAT” AND I SAID “WHAT’S IT ABOUT?” AND HE SAID WORK OUT FOR YOURSELF, SO I SING IT A COUPLE OF TIMES AND I STILL COULDN’T WORK OUT WHAT IT WAS ABOUT. ABOUT A MONTH LATER WE STARTED USING IT IN THE SET, HE TOLD ME THAT IT WAS ABOUT JACK THE RIPPER AND ONCE HE TOLD ME THAT, IT SEEMED OBVIOUS. READING BACK WHAT I’VE JUST SAID, IT SOUNDS RATHER STUPID. [TRUE YOU ARE]
RUSS: TELL ME SOME JUICY FACTS ABOUT THE BAND
DAVE: JUICY FACTS? ALRIGHT, IN ACTUAL FACT, i AM AN ORANGE, PAUL’S A GRAPEFRUIT, AND MIGGS IS A BANANA.
RUSS: IRREVERENT SCOUNDRAL CAN’T YOU BE DECENT FRUIT LIKE LYCHEES?
pAUL: I’M DAVE, PAUL’S NOT HERE, AND SCOUNDREL IS SPELT WITH AN ‘E’
RUSS: WELL FOLKS THAT JUST ABOUT WRAPS IT UP, OH AND MARTIN FEATHERBY WAS HERE.
------------------------
UK Subs Pavilion 3rd May 1980 Review
This review won’t be long cos old Russell has got BIG PRINTING PROBLEMS at the moment. Besides, the gig wasn't very long anyway, although it was very eventful. Thus - as you will probably get bored if it's too long - here is a short review of the UK Subs.
I shall begin my tale on the train from good ol Wales. There were 20 to 30 Subs fans from Newport and Cardiff on there. I know this cos I have seen them at the Stowaway in Newport lots of times. Anyway, after even more punks got on at Bristol, I finally arrived at Bath. We stood on the bridge at first, watching the pretty colours get let into the Pavilion - blue-green, red, purple, white, tartan, yellow… lovely.
We went in after handing over our £2 worth of ticket. Not long after, as we settled down and were listening to the records we were knocked sideways. Obviously one little innocent bugger had said the wrong thing to the wrong person and woosh 60 people run after him (or his blood). Why did he have to run towards us! Just as we got over that the first band came on. Rip, tear, wack, grunt. They were awful (although better than those in the Nolan Sisters mould). I don't know who they were, but believe me, they were ten times less subtle than the Cockney Rejects and even less musically potential! After a few growls and the mass of spitting (both ways), they went off.
There were more fights in the interlude, more numerous and more violent. Bristol Cross fans were involved, so it seems because after it all died down, they formed a separate group in the middle and sang BRISTOL in football fan fashion. The atmosphere was electric from then on.
We decided to get a drink to cool down. No beer was on sale! We had a glass of lemonade. It was 25p. We decided to share it. The UK Subs came on and lo and behold, Charlie Harper was not drunk. The music was so loud it blew my ears off. At times it was so loud and full of fervour that I couldn't differentiate between the chords.
At first I thought they were going to play the first album in order cos they started with CID, I couldn't be you, I live in a car, Tomorrows Girls, (the first four tracks on the album). However, the first five minutes of this set over with they play some songs from “Brand New Age” which I wasn't familiar with.
The set lasted for 35 minutes. The crowd danced vigorously to the first 15 or so numbers, but only the fit endured it to the end of the set (another 8 to 10 songs!) Classics followed one another World war, rocker's warhead, Emotional Blackmail, crash course, Teenage. In the encore there was Stranglehold (of course) and B1C.
“B one C
B one C
I don't want to B one C.” Sung with as much effort and energy as CID at the start. There were two encores. The second had another new song, also disease and CID again.
“We’ve finished the numbers we'd rehearsed, so will start the set again… crash, crash, crash. “See that man dressed in black” … pogo, pogo. CID, CID, etc, etc.
People had got on stage by this time + one was arm in arm with Charlie Harper singing into the mic.
After the gig we went to the Crystal Palace and sunk a few pints of Dorchester… ah! A night to be remembered.
Taken from the original manuscript of Paul Pearce (Wales)
------------------------------
An interview with de tian the garbled version.
ME:- Tell us about yourselves.
PAUL:- There are four of us now, and we've all but abandoned the backing tape, which gives us a lot more scope.
ME:- About the record:-
PAUL:- We've only sold 200 out of 1000, 100 in Sheffield and 100 to rough trade. We can't get distribution because it's too odd. It was turned down by recommend, Projection, Bonaparte's, Small wonder.
ME:- Can you compare yourself to anyone else?
MARTIN:- We're not rock or pop. Not throbbing gristle. We don't use guitar, just natural sounds Over simple notes, Contemporary music avant-garde.
ME:- What about stockhausen?
MARTIN:- We’re influenced by him, but we’re not copying we’re also influenced by JArz, not [XXXXwnable
Paul: We're not subliminal. That's a load of bullshit.
ME:- The future?
Paul: We want to play London, sell the records. XXXX will make some proper In my flat. We like to present the music in a way that standard rock audiences can listen to eg yourself. Hence we have the magician And slides.
ME:- My experience was that I wasn't sure about the music, but I was interested.
MARTIN:- You can spend too much time worrying about, understanding, looking for reasons which aren't necessary.
Paul: Understanding doesn't come into it, EG status quo.
ME:- Tell me about “two Spires split” lyrics in “writings.”
PAUl. A long held idea. We both write a lot and wanted to put it into a XXXX It's sparse because it was typed up that way. Money isn't Our aim, We're all poor.
ME:- Why the magician.
PAUL:- All part of the visual presentation thing. This Afternoon Isn't ENOUGH Time to play (see review) We adapt our playing to what We're doing.
ME:- Are you going to play any of your hits?
PAUL:- A couple off the EP.
MARTIN:- there’ll be less structure. More improvised structure within a structure.
PAUL:- More emotion than with tapes.
ME:- What do you think of the local scene?
PAUL:- There's plenty going on. bands accept t0o easily that they'll Big. i don’t like Some of their motives. London needs to be shown what's happening. Clock dva are great advert. If people with more sense and money had been around Sheffield in the past days, they would have been something good were not standing for acceptance. It'll never get commercial like the push and the EXTRAS Who WERE ENGAGED and changed.
ME:- Which venues do you like?
Paul: The Rotherham Arts Centre, the Crucible. but its XXXXXX XXXX
MARTIN:- People doing it for themselves is good. I don't like XXXX XXXX AREN’T more important than other people. tWo spires is about A TENSION between Two Spires quite deep.
MARTIN:- A trendy load of crap. (He's not serious.)
PAUL:- The lyrics are A reflection on Sheffield, surrealism, It is XXXXXX.
PAUL:- Over 100 instruments, we like hitting things.
MARTIN:- Collecting personal instruments eastern XXXXX Via instrument. Sympathetic strings to give the Indian sound. we like clock dVA And the Lindsay string quartet.
ME:- What's your favourite colour?
THEM:- My eyes are bluey grey blue. Haven't got one XX? colour
THEM:- The next record will have alternative XXXX And a version of old Shep.
The end
This interview was tastefully garbled
at the express request of De Tians.
----------------------
THE SATURDAY LEADMILL
THE NEW VENUE ON LEADMILL STREET BETWEEN XXXX XXXX XXXX THE POLY ON THE SITE OF THE ESQUIRE CLUB. EARLIER IN THE DAY THERE WAS XXXX X XXX CRAFT FAYRE.
THIS WAS A GOOD EVENT HAVING A RING OF THE MEDIEVAL MIXED WITH THE SIXTIES, ADD A DASH OF LIME AND YOU GET A REFRESHING COCKTAIL. WITH XXXXX XXX BUT XXX XXX (WHOLEFOOD YOU KNOW) WAS DELICIOUS XXXX XXXX XXXX APPLE JUICE, QUICHE, FLAPJACK + ALL THE MUESLI XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX VARIOUS JEWELRY STANDS, POTTERY. WE BOUGHT XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX AN UNCANNY RESEMBLENCE TO MY DAD. THEN DO YOUR OWN XXXXX XXXXXXXXXXX XXXX PEOPLE HAD THOSE. THE SHEFFIELD FREE PRESS HAD A STALL OUT BUT I’D ALREADY XXX XXX. BY FAR THE BEST ATTRACTION WAS ONE OF THOSE INFLATABLES, A 40FT SQUARE, XXFT HIGH CUSHION OF AIR. AFTER ASCERTAINING THAT YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO BE A KIDDIE TO GO ON IT, A GREAT TIME WAS HAD.
BY THE TIME WE LEFT IT WAS STARTING TO FILL UP AND NO DOUBT THERE WERE EVENTS TAKING PLACE LATER. ON INTO THE DEEP GREY YONDER. NIGHT FELL (OR WAS IT PUSHED?) THE MUSIC WASN’T STUNNING BUT WAS A GOOD NIGHT AND TOTALLY WORTHWHILE ADVENTURE. (SUBTRACT AD)
LONG XXXX FOLKIE AS MUCH AS TULL OR SPAN OR INDEED SPAM. AS A XXXXX XXXX XXXX OF FOLK THEY HELD MY INTEREST. I CAN’T REALLY COMMENT BUT XXXX XXXXX XXXX AND [OFFBEAT?] WITH DISTINCTIVE VOCALS IN PART. SOMEONE OUGHT XXXXX XXXXX XXXX FANZINE BECAUSE I HAVEN’T GOT A CLUE.
XXX IT SEEMS THAT EVERYONE’S DOING A HOMEMADE BADGE. A XXXXX XXX TELLS ME THAT THEY GOT FIVE SONGS AND ABOUT TO DO A GIG. XXXXX XXXXXX SAYS THAT THEY’D LIKE TO PUT A BAND ON EVERY NIGHT.
EARTH TALES. AGAIN I CAN’T COMMENT ON THE MUSIC THAT I WOULD APPRECIATE EVEN XXX XXX XXX IN IT’S FIELD (IF YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN). THEY WERE XXXX XXXX AND XXXX XXXX WITH ME THOUGHT THEY WERE RUBBISH, THE OTHER GREAT. WISHY WASHY WRITE UP EH?
BREAKTIME – THE VENUE IS AN OLD LEADMILL WITH ONE [GLASS?] XXXX ALREADY IS XXX THERE ARE CLOAKROOMS, FOOD AND A BAR (ONLY SURE XXX XXXX THE XXXX). GAY PAINTWORK, BUMPY FLOOR, SPACEOUS, XXXXSTY, XXXX OLD FURNACE SITS HAPPILY IN THE CORNER TO GUARD US FROM EVIL.
DE TIAN – IF THERE WAS A “BEST BAND” IT WAS THEM FOR ME, THOUGH NOT TO MANY OTHER PEOPLE. TWO MEMBERS FOR THIS GIG. ONE STARTED PLAYING A GUITAR AND THE OTHER SCRATCHED A WEIRD THING RESEMBLING…. (WELL IT HAD STRINGS ON IT). THE MOST DIRE DIRGE ENSUED. THEY THEN PICKED UP BONGO INSTRUMENTS TO DO A NOISE ON THEM. THEN THEY START SAYING “WHERE’S BOGART” AND “THIS IS TERRIBLE.” MARVO ENTERS TO A SPLENDID MUSICAL BACKDROP. SOMETIMES HE IS MYSTIC, OTHERS FUNNY, THE BEST BIT OF THE EVENING (PS HE’S A MAGICIAN). THE BAND TAKE TO SYMBOLS. THE MUSIC DOESN’T REALLY HAVE A MELODY OR TUNE, BEING NEARER ORIENTAL THAN WESTERN MUSIC. THIS CAUSES DIGESTIVE DIFFICULTIES. UNDANCEABLE. THE EP TRACKS I’VE HEARD ARE STIMULATING. I’D LIKE TO SEE THEM AGAIN.
ONE DISADVANTAGE OF BUYING RECORDS AT GIGS IN SHEFFIELD IS THAT COMPLETE STRANGERS COME AND TAKE THEM OFF YOUR LITTLE SISTER. ONE VISIT TO THE BAR BROUGHT YET ANOTHER CROWD OF STRANGERS ROUND MY SMIRKING SIBLING MINUS ONE BOOKLET. “WHAT ARE THESE NASTY MEN DOING WITH YOUR BOOKLET” I ASKED. IT WAS OBVIOUS THEY WERE LOOKING AT PICTURES OF EACH OTHER AND REMARKING UPON EACH OTHERS UNDOUBTED UGLINESS. TURNS OUT TO BE “DEAF AIDS” WHO WERE THE BETTER BAND WITH WILKO AT BATH. THEY ARE ASTONISHED WHEN I TELL THEM I SAW THE GIG. IT IS A BIT UNLIKELY, ADMITTEDLY, TO MEET SOMEONE IN SHEFFIELD WHO SAW YOU IN BATH. TURNS OUT THEY WERE ENTHUSED BY THE BATH RECEPTION AND WANTED TO PLAY THERE AGAIN. PEOPLE SAY THEY ARE R&B WHICH IS OFF THE MARK, THE MEMBERS THEMSELVES DON’T THINK ARE R&B. THE NEAREST COMPARISON WOULD BE THE HEAVY METAL KIDS IF ONLY FOR THE HUMOUR OF THE FRONT MAN. LESS R&B THAN THE CRAMPS FOR WHAT IT MATTERS.
R.I.P. CLAIM TO BE REVIVALISTS. THE LEAD SINGER LOOKS LIKE A BRICKY AND PROBABLY IS. COMEDY BAND. PEOPLE DANCE, “BACK IN THE USSR” AND THE CATCHY “DEAD MEN’S CLOTHES” ABOUT ALL US OXFAM KIDS.
MARK JACKSON IS A POET WITH A FUZZY GUITAR, LIKE IN THE XXXXXXX JOAN AND XXX. HIS FIRST DITTY IS “16 STONE FANNY.” WHICH XX VERY XXXXXXXX SIDE OF PEOPLE. THE GUITAR BREAKS DOWN BUT HE CARRIES ON “NEVER MASTERBATES EXCEPT WHEN SHE MENSTRUATES” FEMINISTS TAKE OFFENCE AND XXXX XXXXXXXX TO THE FLOOR. “I NEVER THOUGHTT 8 STONES OF M COULD CRUSH XXXXXX XXXXXXXX!” HE THEN FACES A CONSTANT HARANGING FROM A FEW PEOPLE XXXX XXXX XXXX SONG IS ABOUT WORKING MENS CLUBS – FISH AND CHIPS, BEER, GIRLS. THE XXXX XXXXXX SEVERE WITH PEOPLE STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM HURLING ABUSE XXXX HE XXXXX “I THINK I’D BETTER GO” YOU CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL SORRY FOR HIM. HE GOES OFF XXXX BUT EVEN MORE APPLAUSE. BACK HE COMES, “THIS IS FOR THE PEOPLE OUT THERE” (POINTS TO HIS FANS) “AND THIS IS FOR YOU” (TWO FINGERS TO THE HECKLERS). HE DOES A ONE CHORD VERSION OF “SO LONELY” EVEN THAT IS TAKEN AS SEXIST. AS A FEMINIST NON SEXIST MYSELF I DON’T FEEL TOO HAPPY ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED. SOME PEOPLE WANTED TO SHOW WHERE THEIR LOYALTIES LXXX XX DARK X IS CAUGHT IN THE MIDDLE. A MAN WHO TAKES THE PISS OUT OF BOTH SEXES. HE WASN’T TREATING WOMEN AS OBJECTS, MORE TAKING THE PEE OUT OF MEN WHO DO SO.
HEADROOM “THIS ONE’S SO FUNKY YOUR EARS’LL DROP OFF” SAYS THE SINGER. THE OTHER SONG HE REFERS TO PEOPLE AS “SISTERS AND BROTHERS” WHICH IS TAKEN AS A SEXIST ATTACK – CHANTS OF “BORING” FROM THE HECKLERS. UNESSCESSARY UNPLEASANTNESS. AGAIN I AM NOT INTO THIS MUSIC BUT PEOPLE DANCED, ON THE WHOLE THE AUDIENCE WEREN’T IDEAL. SIX BANDS FOR £1.
_________________
…. LATEST … NEW …
FROM … PLANET … X
THE “X HEAVIES CYNICAL” MANY, MANY YEARS AGO WAS RUNNING OUT OF OTHER PEOPLE’S IDEAS. THE SCOUTS HADN’T HAD A JUMBLE SALE FOR AGES, THEY HAD BEEN UNSUCCESSFUL IN TRYING TO PRECIPITATE A STRIKE DUE TO THE APATHY OF THE X-PEOPLE. FOR SOME STRANGE REASON NOT EVEN THE NORMAL TIVIAL THINGS SUCH AS TORY MPS SHAKING HANDS WITH LORD THORNEYCROFT WERE HAPPENING VERY OFTEN. SUDDENLY A BRAINWAVE STRIKES THEM! THEY BUY UP THE OLD STATION. SO THEY DID FOR A PEPPERCORN RENT, AND SINCE THEN WHENEVER THEY’VE HAD NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT THEY’VE JUST MADE UP A PACK OF LIES ABOUT WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN: A DUMP FOR ATOMIC WASTE, A LAUNCH PAD FOR APOLLO 17, A MASSAGE PARLOUR, AN EROTIC FRUIT SHOP, A CRYOXXX BANK, A SPERM DONING BANK, A BLOOD BANK, A BARCLAYS BANK, A MOSSY BANK. A FILM SET FOR A STORY ABOUT A HOMICIDAL MANIAC – HEY THAT’S AN IDEA. OPEN SHOP AS A SAFARI PARK, WITH LIONS & TIGERS AND KIETH JOSEPH – BUT XXXXXX XXXX EAT THE LIONS AND ESCAPE AND THEN WHAT WOULD WE DO?
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Apologies for any mistakes - I did what I could, OK.
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I liked their rooftop outfits so I uh did a thing
Als0 I have no idea how gutairs work or how to draw theM
#the angle of johns guitar killEd me#the beatles#the beatles fanart#john lennon#paul mccartney#rooftop concert#my art
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LTWT2022 Los Angeles 1 highlights:
(12 March)
• Arrival to the venue, where elevator and hallways are decorated for Louis, lights during the show, lights, john delf, helene, fireworks and confetti, the YouTube Theater, charlie with fans
• Burberry baseball shirt: x x iconic x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x iconic!!! x x x x x x x x x
• Baseball shirts: a Louis tradition!
• Smiling x giggling tongue
• Composite gifs, gifs, beautiful gifs
• Charlie insta
• Asking a fan, “What time is it?”
• Interacting with a “Love From India” sign
• Rainbows
• Drag Me Down: video
• Always You: video
• Too Young: video
• 7: the high note
• Fearless: video, guitar solo, graphics for the video feature “safety film” borders just like at the Live from London livestream and AFHF, rainbows
• Defenceless: video, video, messing up the lyrics, video
• The band taking a shot together
• Beautiful War: lights, torches out
• Louis showing something to Charlie
• Little Black Dress: cornishman-on-tour insta, video
• Walls: video, showing emotions, video, you were my because, x he always messes up on the same lyric (even though he said, “I know this one, I know it.”) and this time he gets emotional... why? video composite gifs
• Only the Brave: video, video, rainbow lights
• “I see you, lad. I see you. Love you!” Louis talking to Freddie, who is with Oli all night.
• Through the Dark: video, video
• Kill My Mind: outro, another angle, video
• Tummy
• Charlie’s reaction to being a meme
• When men’s shirts ride up just enough and you see just their lil tummy
• VIPs at the show: Mark Gillespie, Freddie Tomlinson, Eleanor Calder, Zach Sang, Woolsey’s family
• Here’s the clear industry dynamic: “A Rolling Stone writer (Tomas Mier) attended the concert, loved it, is interacting with fans on social media, would absolutely get clicks if he wrote an article, but he is NOT going to write one and let everyone know. Rolling Stone doesn’t want clicks? Yup, that sounds totally normal.”
• Charlie seeing a photo of toddler Louis
• Zach Sang came and posted on insta, photo with a fan
• Fan edit, fan art, fan edit, glorious edit
• Larries selling their LA tickets two days before because they fear Freddie will be there. Is Louis happy with publicizing his private life?
• Ella Winters’ boyfriend is dogsitting Clifford and Bruce and housesitting. Louis’ framed certificate for the Guinness Book of World Records is at his house!
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Queen live at Barra da Tijuca in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil - January 19, 1985
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The second night in Rio is as epic as the first. Freddie's voice isn't in quite as good shape as it was last week, but he and the band give their all in a show that would turn out to be a final farewell. This concert marks the end of Queen's love affair with South America, a continent where the band played a dozen shows to over a million people.
Brian isn't able to grab his slide in time for the Tie Your Mother Down guitar solo, and the end result is an aggressive and unique take on it. He also lets it rip in the improv section of Keep Yourself Alive.
In the piano bit between Somebody To Love and Killer Queen, Freddie leads the band into the The March Of The Black Queen jam as he did in Sun City last year. This would happen many times in 1985.
The vocal harmonies in Liar are excellent.
The improvisation section before It's A Hard Life is much longer tonight, consisting of a few lines reworked for the Brazilian audience. It would be officially released in the UK in 1995 as "Rock In Rio Blues", on the "A Winter's Tale" CD single. It was also released on the US CD single of "Too Much Love Will Kill You" in 1995, and later on disc 2 of the 2011 deluxe edition of the final Queen album, "Made In Heaven."
After It's A Hard Life, Freddie begins his vocal duel with the audience with a few bits he used in Now I'm Here a few years back. At the end of it, he proclaims, "Everybody's beautiful".
He does some superb improv at the beginning of Now I'm Here, which is seen on the official VHS.
Brian, before Is This The World We Created, referring to his electric classical guitar: "I have no idea if this little bugger's gonna stay in tune, but we'll try this anyway." Freddie messes up the lyrics of the second chorus, singing "Is this the world we devestated, against the bone" instead of "right to the bone." It's otherwise a very nice version of the ballad.
He then introduces Love Of My Life: "You want to sing with us? Alright. Well, this is especially for you." He changes the subject briefly, saying "I hope you're not too wet out there," as it is raining throughout the show. He continues, "I have to tell you that this song is very special to the people of South America, and we thank you very much for making it special throughtout the world. This is called Love Of My Life." As seen on the video, both he and Freddie are clearly moved by a quarter of a million people, most of whose first language isn't English, singing the song perfectly. The audience chant Brian's name throughout the interlude, and in the emotion of the moment he has to carefully make his way through it.
During his solo spot, Brian plays bits of "Let Me Out", one of the songs from his 1983 solo mini-LP with Eddie Van Halen and others called "Star Fleet Project". He began his solo with an EBow, as he did last week in Rio. This is the last time he has played with an EBow live to date.
Freddie's emotive ending to Bohemian Rhapsody is one-of-a-kind.
Like last week, Freddie introduces Radio Ga Ga - the only times he would do this.
In light of last week's incident, Freddie doesn't come out with his boobs and wig for I Want To Break Free, as seen on the official VHS.
The hour-long (48 minutes without commercials) Globo TV broadcast of this concert was watched by about 200 million people. It showed some shots from different angles than were seen on the official release. The following songs were shown: Tear It Up, Tie Your Mother Down, Under Pressure, Somebody To Love, Killer Queen, Seven Seas Of Rhye, Keep Yourself Alive, Liar, Rock In Rio Blues, It's A Hard Life, Dragon Attack, Now I'm Here, Love Of My Life, and Crazy Little Thing Called Love. In the last song, John is seen smirking at Freddie's overt Elvis impression in the second verse.
We Are The Champions from the second night was also aired on Globo TV.
Brian and John appeared on MTV Japan in May to promote the VHS release, and clips from both Rio shows were shown. The clips of Love Of My Life, I Want To Break Free, We Will Rock You and We Are The Champions are from the second night (the last two songs are notable, as the first night was used for those songs on the video release).
On February 25, Brian would make a guest appearance on a radio show and he actually acted as the DJ for an hour or two. He had a few words to say when asked if he had an outstanding memory from Rio:
"Just looking at the crowd, really. We never quite believed that it was going to happen and we were going to get quarter of a million people a night or whatever, and it just actually happened. They all rolled up and one night it was pouring with rain and they were still there until two in the morning from four in the afternoon. It was very well organized and very well lit which is unusual so you could actually see the audience very well, all in pools of different coloured lights. I think there is going to be a video of that some time and perhaps people will be able to see, but it was quite something I must say. And there was the feeling of it being the first time, which it was, because there never was that much rock and roll in Rio. Now there is mate, I tell you!"
This version of Love Of My Life was released on a cassette single in the US. It is a more raw mix, as the audience was artificially piped up for much of the official VHS release. A few more words from Brian and Freddie are heard before and after the song than on the VHS.
The fifth picture was taken by Antonio Henrique Seligman, and the last one was taken by Dave Matkin.
More pictures from this show can be found at http://www.repfoto.com. You have to register as a user.
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Let's play the speculation game and say McLennon was real. Going with the common idea that Paul dumped John in India, wasn't the "let's all be friends, write together and go on double dates with our wives" angle Paul seemed to hope for completely delusional? Why would someone with John's issues stick around and celebrate Paul's happiness with someone else after being downgraded?
I have great respect for Paul's decision of not being John's nanny/handler for the rest of his life. But I've always been annoyed by his inability to let the man go for good. Paul, you've made your choice, my friend. Enough with the sad songs about not being called back or turning up on John's doorstep with a guitar when the he was spending time with his own family. People hate that but some things in the world really are black or white. You can't have it both ways.
Why speculate when we know it was and is real
Alright so, let me try to unpack my thoughts cohesively get ya tinfoil hats on y’all;
If we go with the theory that during 1967, when Paul and John were practically living together and conjoined at the hip, taking LSD together and sharing those intense and intimate experiences that even Pau’s girlfriend Jane had become envious of— John had come to the realization of what he wanted, finally acknowledged it and came to accept it.
So in India, John tried to confront Paul about their relationship and their “relationship,” and openly admit to Paul that he wanted more, that he was now willing to leave Cynthia and Julian for a life he truly wanted or desired, and that included Paul (but to what extent is what we debate I guess)
And now that I’m thinking about it, we also know John was sort of beginning to spiral downward in 1968. It was obvious his marriage with Cynthia was at it’s end, and he didn’t want to work on it anymore. He was surrounding himself more with druggies, an unsavory crowd that Cynthia really didn’t approve of (Yoko was part of this crowd) and he was actively pulling away.
I think John was realizing that, he just wasn’t happy. That, putting everything he had into becoming one of the most successful musicians in the world, to become bigger then Elvis Presley, didn’t make him happy. It didn’t fix what needed fixing in him, what needed addressing. He was still drowning despite it all.
So you’ve got the trip to India, the boys going in hopes that perhaps the Maharishi Mahesh Yog and his spiritual teachings would somehow give a new perspective on things, produce the answer that would save the band (save John and Paul) from what appeared to be an inevitable downfall. But as we know, that isn’t what was needed.
John and Paul needed to talk. The lack of consistent communication between them for years and years, and the fact John needed a therapist, he needed rehab. So did Paul, during the White Album era.
I don’t believe Paul dumped John, but I do think John could have easily misconstrued Paul taking a step back and not willing to just go blindly, impulsively jumping off a theoretical cliff with him, as being rejected. We know Paul had to sort of take the position of ‘think before you leap’, to be more conscious of the actions and decisions he and the others decide to take, and how it would effect them as individuals, and especially them as a band (because frankly the others wouldn’t) and we know that John could be incredibly impulsive, only thought of the consequences after the fact. That, and who’s to say such a proposition and confrontation from John hadn’t scared Paul? Got him feeling those insecurities of his own crawling up.
Paul wanted a traditional family, he wanted to have a wife and children. But Paul also wanted John, he wanted and loved Lennon-McCartney, and he didn’t think (or he’d hoped) him getting married and having a family would really change anything between them (because John got married and had a kid and they were still able to do go and do whatever they wanted together, so what was the difference—) that he could still keep what he had with John, that they could still stay together after The Beatles split. Get around to writing that musical, and grow old together still writing and making music, still creating together.
How I see it, is that Paul wanted to have his cake and eat it too.
Paul, being fine with keeping the status quo between them, it was safe and enough (right?), but John vehemently wasn’t fine with it anymore, and it wasn’t enough for him. Nothing was enough for him, as we know; John was a very all-or-nothing individual, and expected complete devotion and love from someone, because receiving less felt like rejection and abandonment was only around the corner. This way of feeling and thinking for John was only exasperated by the drugs, his alcoholism, and his spiraling mental health.
Paul could have tried compromising with John, and John still could have taken that as a complete rejection of his feelings and what he wanted, and what he had hoped and thought Paul also wanted.
I believe Paul probably didn’t even know himself what he had done wrong, or that he did anything wrong. I don’t think Paul believed he was downgrading John to anything either.
If only they had talked.
Then they returned from India, and the rest as we know it...
“To me, a summary is something like: “gifted, disturbed boy with tremendous amount of drive to outrun a bad childhood discovers love for music and creative soulmate(s) and gives everything he has to become the most famous musician in the world, hoping it will make him happy. He does, but it doesn’t, and people who don’t have his best interests separate him from his friends, his creation and creative spark, and ultimately himself. He’s too screwed up by addiction, mental illness, and unaddressed traumas to change things, so he retreats further into addiction and mental illness, wishing he could somehow regain his lost spark. He makes a few halfway steps toward doing so, but they’re not enough, and ultimately he is killed in front of his apartment building where, 24 hours later, his wife installs the man she had been sleeping with behind his back.”"
— Michael Bleicher, The Artist as a Dissipated Man: Fred Seaman’s “The Last Days of John Lennon.”
Right, so both John and Paul made their choices in life. Some choices and decisions that we as fans and outside observers might never be able to understand, or agree with.
But who’s to say Paul (and John), couldn’t, didn’t, or don’t regret those choices and decisions?
I get what you’re saying, I understand. Why can’t Paul move on? He made his choices, why is it 40, 50 years later, that Paul can’t just let John go? Let sleeping dogs lie, all that.
Because Paul loved John, still loves John, to this day.
Because, clearly Paul has some regrets. He regrets how things were handled during the Divorce. He regrets not hugging John enough. He regrets not telling John, when he had the chance and time, that he loved him (and without the help of alcohol) When you love someone so deeply, and suddenly, without warning, they’re taken from you and the world, you regret a lot, and you miss what could have been, the ‘What if’s.’
Paul said that what he and John were, were soulmates. I don’t know how it feels to lose a soulmate. I don’t know if I’ll ever get to know how it feels to get the opportunity to love and be around them.
How awful do you think it is to meet your soulmate, but you cannot freely love them? Can’t just, be, with them? Not in just one way, bestmates, legendary partners, but, as everything that the word Soulmate brings along and includes with it?
That God decided to have them be of the same sex, during a time where it was illegal to love and be with someone of the same sex, and could even be a potential death sentence to be assumed or thought of as a ‘queer.’
So, you take whatever you can with them.
Then that isn’t enough. One grows restless, desperate for more. It can’t happen, not realistically, not without consequences of varying degrees.
Strain, miscommunication to none. They communicate through a musical, artistic language which just isn’t enough. Drugs, alcohol, mental illness and emotional turmoil, it’s all too much. It breaks. Soulmates are still flawed human beings.
You have people who work to purposefully pin them against each other. Parasites and piggybackers.
A nasty divorce and breakup between two lovers that never were.
And then, after ten years, it’s happening. You two are talking again, things are tense and awkward still sometimes, but something’s changed. You’ve planned on reuniting, couldn’t do it this year, because the studio you wanted was booked. So you plan for after the New Year.
Then, your soulmate is killed. Just, taken away from you, like nothing. Violently and suddenly. And all the possibilities... The time... Gone. Ripped away from both of you.
I can’t blame Paul for not letting go. I can’t say I’d ever be able to understand the sort of pain and heartbreak he experienced. He still goes through it! It’s still there. He’s just learned how to manage it a bit better.
I’d say it’s more pathetic then it is annoying— and I don’t mean it in a way to insult Paul. I really don’t. Because John was just as pathetic when it came to his obvious obsession, desire, and love for Paul, too.
Love, that kind of soul-deep love, it can make you pathetic and hopeless. And it’s not something you can just... let go for good.
Wanting, or expecting Paul to let go of John for good... Firstly would be impossible, and secondly, how do you let go of a soulmate? John is a part of Paul, whether some like it or not. Can’t really have one without the other.
Can’t have Lennon without McCartney, and vice-or-versa. Forever intertwined, are they.
#questionsquestionsquestions#mclennon#beatles discussion/discourse#I think all I did was ramble again I'm sorry#this isn't even that good
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Robin Hood Rewatch: 1x13 A Clue: No
“Previously on” recaps can be annoying, but there is an art to it and I love a good one. This is a very, very good one, summarising the last episode with ramping tension as the music builds, then cuts to a different take of the last scene as the theme song starts, and we’re into the opening credits.
This is a long one, so it’s going under the cut:
Guy estimates that the “inner circle” of Robin’s gang is “a dozen at the most” and I find it very funny that neither he nor Vaisey have twigged that it’s always the same five people around him. What’s more annoying than funny is that they don’t know how many are in the “outer circle” because that really should have been A Thing in the show (Forrest and Hanton should have come back to guest star! I will never let this go!) After all, we see Little John with more men in the first episode, there are other outlaws in the forest/across the shire that are either working with Robin, or pose a risk to them, and I wish this had been explored.
Djaq manhandling and holding her sword to Pitts’s throat - I love Djaq.
The first arrow Robin shoots is intended for Vaisey, but one of the guards inconveniently walks in front and gets it in the chest. The second arrow is intended for Vaisey as well but he ducks (”my tooth!”) so we can’t fault the writing for a credible attempt at Why Doesn’t Robin Just Kill The Sheriff, because in this scene at least, he tries.
Bye Pitts. You certainly were.
I actually really love this scene (which probably seemed odd given the high body count), but Robin drawing his sword and charging, with Much, Djaq, and John backing him up to avenge Marian’s apparent death/make a final stand, as the music shifts from the jaunty Rescue Theme to Marian’s Theme, just gets me every time.
Although thanks to the cast commentary, I can’t unsee Djaq flipping that guy over her head twice, but hey, it’s a badass move. Clearly they didn’t shoot enough coverage of this fight, because we get the same action from several different angles.
Other than the flashback in episode 8, I think this is the only time we see Robin in Crusader mode, and just how lethal he (and the gang) can be when unleashed and with nothing to lose. Even when the enemy retreats Robin remains kind of wild-eyed with rage unsated, and it takes a beat for him to snap out of it. It’s symbolism time - he sticks his sword in the ground and leaves it there, and we don’t see it again this episode (or much in season 2).
There’s some nice acting going on from everyone in this scene - just utter exhaustion, Allan and Will oblivious to why the rest are so distraught, Much taking it upon himself to tell them but can’t say the words, and Robin with the finality of “she’s dead.” Their faces!
Djaq is still holding two swords as she enters the cave, which is a nice character beat - no doubt the fight also brought back unpleasant memories/triggers for her, and she remains on edge, for the moment unwilling to give up her defences even when the threat is gone.
I really love this scene too (the gang mourning Marian) and I think it’s quite deftly written - Djaq’s immediate reaction being the importance of a quick burial (as per Islamic tradition), Robin trying to keep it together, attempting to ask John/Will to build a coffin but unable to, so deflecting to ask Djaq to prepare Marian’s body, before trying twice again; John soothing him and taking charge. Will’s single tear and speaking of Marian’s goodness. Much responding with “Good? Oh, she was... She was...” looking to Robin because of course his thoughts are for Robin’s grief before his own, and also that his own relationship with Marian was complex. Allan: “She was alright...yeah” that says so much, and of course John’s “Her, we liked.” Again, some fine acting, kudos everyone.
“I loved her and I never told her” is ironic because Robin still won’t tell her until halfway through the next season, and if he had in the aftermath of her apparent death he could have spared himself a lot of the angst of the rest of the episode. But of course he doesn’t tell her, doesn’t learn from this moment, because emotions are hard, and sometimes we make the same mistakes over and over again.
I really love that it’s Allan that notices that Marian is alive, and his little “told ya” flourish.
Score note: while Marian is “dead” her Theme is strings, when she opens her eyes, it’s back to the guitar.
Guy’s guilt in finding out his impending marriage to Marian is based on false pretenses - would he still have forced the marriage if he’d known that from the start?
Djaq still has her two swords as they take Marian back to Knighton.
Guy, if your first instinct when told Marian is not at home is that she’s run away rather than marry you...maybe take a hint? “She cannot run from me” is a big yikes, and this confuses me as to Guy’s motivation in this scene. Did he intend to tell Marian the truth, but then convince himself otherwise (because “the excitement of the wedding” =/= “the wedding excites her”), but then why so angry when he thinks shes run? The difference between getting someone go/being left, I suppose.
Illness is a perfectly plausible explanation for delaying the wedding that no one seems to think of.
Edward is actually pretty bang on in this scene with Robin from a father’s perspective, telling him to let Marian go if he cannot stop it, and do the right thing. On the other hand...
“I am sick of doing the right thing” is why Robin is such a compelling character for me - because it is hard to always be good, to be held to that higher standard, and make the unselfish choice. I enjoy narratives that explore that, and this show is surprisingly unflinching about it, exemplified by:
The next scene, which is one of the most emotionally brutal/hard to watch of the entire show, in which Robin lashes out and does everything to drive Much away, including calling him “a pox” and a “small man” until Much’s heart visibly breaks.
Now I don’t want to excuse Robin here, because he is objectively awful to someone who doesn’t deserve it, who is trying to give him support but also telling him some much needed hard truths (even if it is slightly self-serving, which is what what seems to set Robin off). But at the end of the day, if he loves Marian he needs to accept that it is her choice to marry Guy, to “do the right thing” to (she thinks) protect her father - and later of he does just that. For now Edward and Much are both right, it is more important for him to try and protect the king from Vaisey, because if he is ousted and Richard back on the throne so many lives would be improved, including the people of Locksley. But Robin has been pushed to breaking point all season, and has now snapped and can’t see reason, but is stuck in his own grief/rage.
But unlike previously, when Robin said regrettable things in the heat of the moment and then immediately took them back, this is a calculated attack designed to hurt Much the most, because he loves Robin so much that it takes A Lot to push him away. It’s a bold move to make your hero so unlikable in such a moment, because Robin really is unforgivably cruel here, and trust the audience to understand why. I mean, I don’t want to bang on about the PTSD, but it’s (partly) the PTSD, based on a triggering, precipitating event causing a self-destructive spiral. Robin needs some Ye Olde Therapy.
For all the talk about Robin getting his title and lands back, nothing is said about what happens to Gisborne once he does, other than that they can’t prove he was the one who tried to assassinate Richard. Because really, Richard probably would believe Robin even though the tattoo was burned away, and Guy’s certainly committed other crimes that could be testified to just like they’re intending for Vaisey - and let’s be real, it’s not like a king needs evidence to order someone’s death (hello, season 2 finale). Boom - Guy executed, marriage to Marian annulled, problem solved!
So, the scene between Marian and Guy, in which Marian is more concerned with whether or not Guy tried to kill the king than the fact that he stabbed her. But its understandable, because Marian thinks there’s no way out that doesn’t risk her father’s life, and it’s easier to convince herself that maybe Guy didn’t do it to make the best of things. I think she does have some kind of feelings for him, or is at least moved by his feelings for her, and believes if nothing else she can influence him/continue working from the inside; giving up the mantle of the Nightwatchman but doing the same work (in a different way) as Lady Gisborne.
And then it’s Robin/Marian angst, round 3, and it’s a far cry from their interaction in the cave milliseconds away from “I love yous” - in both tone and body language they’re back in defensive positions talking past one another. The tension, it be thick.
Marian is making her best rationalisation with “deprived of love” and Robin not at all buying the Woobification 101. Once she tells him her decision to marry Guy, he accepts it, but it’s Marian’s reaction that’s telling, she’s surprised that he doesn’t argue, deep down she wants him to fight for her, to say that the real reason she shouldn’t marry Guy is because he loves her. It’s quite a contrast from the previous scene where Guy was very open about how he feels about her, while Robin deflects, but while she was conflicted about Guy trying to kiss her, she’s frustrated, disappointed, and angry when Robin leaves.
But really, this is rather unfair of Marian, because Robin did already declare himself in the cave (”we should be together”) without her reciprocation, so expecting him to take the first step again without any encouragement is a bit much.
Would a depressed person sit slumped against a tree all night?
“But by taking Marian in holy wedlock, I will wash away those crimes. Her pure heart will cleanse mine.” Yeah...not going to touch that one. I appreciate that there’s a lot going on with Guy and many, many people find it compelling, but I’m afraid it’s not really a narrative that interests me.
Speaking of pure hearts: Much. Faced with the same choice he was counseling Robin on, but with the additional wrinkle of knowing the king’s an imposter, he still decides to stop the wedding. “Her heart belongs to another” is A Moment and I don’t know exactly why but I find his very soft pleas following this and calling her “my lady” very affecting.
She’s beauty and she’s grace, she punched Guy in the face.
“A trap. I knew it.” I haaaaate this line. NO YOU DIDN’T KNOW IT ROBIN YOU KNEW NOTHING OF THE KIND IF YOU HAD KNOWN YOU WOULD BE EVEN MORE OF A DICK FOR LEAVING UGGGHHHH.
“We can’t be seen together” Right in front of my salad two guards on front gate duty, who get front row tickets to the kiss. Look at them! They’re right there! This show drives me absolutely bonkers sometimes.
I do love this dress though.
“An audience with the king has been suspended!” Going out on one last pun.
Regardless, I really love this episode. Despite the lack of fallout from the emotional wringer they all went through, I can’t help but smile when the gang does their silly little jump for joy at the end.
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Let’s talk about The Old Guard’s OST
And I don’t mean the songs because I don't have that many opinions on them and I'm sure other people can talk about that better than me, but the music that was written for the movie by Volker Bertelmann and Dustin O’Halloran.
Note: I'm only gonna talk about the instruments, themes and parallels, not really about scales or that kind of more technical details, for the sake of saving time.
Okay so here's an analysis by me, a music nerd that can't help but overthink everything they like. Featuring lots of appreciation for minimalist music and cool symbolism.
Why is the Old Guard’s soundtrack so good and so fitting?
The whole thing is under read more because it’s long
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First, the composers.
I don’t know Bertelmann, but I’ve listened to some of O’Halloran’s work (he did The Hate U Give ost). He also worked with Johann Johannsson in the past a big name in the composer and movie soundtrack world (he did Mother!, Prisoners, Arrival amongst other).
O’Halloran cites Arvo Pärt as a big influence in his music. It’s almost all thanks to him and his work that the ambient and minimalist music was born, he’s a huge name. Minimalist and ambient are (to oversimplify it) simple tune, with as little notes as possible, little melody repeated over and over, soft percussion, it embodies the idea that “the less the better”.
What I’m trying to get at is, ambient and minimalist are now very related to the film soundtrack world because by essence ambient is making feel things with less, and that suits the need to uplift images with music that’s not overpowering. (Go listen to Max Richter’s work, he’s one of the first minimalist that was employed in the movie industry, and the Waltz with Bashir ost is amazing.)
Which takes me to this: The Old Guard’s ost doesn’t read like an usual action movie, or super hero movie ost because they used ambient instead of big brass and powerful electric sounds like you’re used to. And that’s what makes it so good for this film.
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So, let’s get to the actual ost. We’ll do it chronologically.
The ost has 24 tracks that amount to 46 min, for a 2 h movie that is in the norm. And the thing is, every instrument has a purpose, is assigned to someone or something and when you listen to it, you can understand that the composers tried to push along the director’s intention with the music.
The movie start with shells falling on the ground and Andy’s speech in complete silence, you’re thrown into the movie: it’s serious and it deals with the character’s emotional drive. Then, bam! “We were born alone” comes on and that solidify this idea.
The first track is The Old Guard, and it gives us a couple thing: the team’s music is composed of synthesizers, long notes held over some soft percussions. There’s piano in this track, and the piano=emotions, memory. But we figure that out later.
We find those elements again in the second track, Hotel. This time the synths are more present because Andy is watching the news and feeling bad about it. And the third one, A New Mission feature synth that are more agressive, since they’re on a mission, and what we assume are their peak coordination as a team. They’re as complementary as you can get for the South Sudan mission, that’s what this part show us.
One element that’s import to note: those three tracks all have choirs, faint in the first but in the third they peak, and you can actually hear them really well in the movie. Choirs are the marks of the Old Guard, of the team, and as soon as they dream of Nile, we won’t hear choirs anymore because the team isn’t complete, they need to find her.
This brings us to Nile. The end of Double Bubble and Nile tells us something else, Nile is the strings, and violon. When Andy leaves to get Nile, there’s string with her synth, because she’s her mission. We hear them when Nile speaks to the children in Afghanistan, and when she dies there’s strings and piano.
That’s when we understand that the piano is memory and emotions. There is piano mixed with heavier percussion for Quynh’s track The Iron Maiden, the memory and pain with a typical Old Guard’s instrument, and percussion are great to show the exhilaration of riding with Andy and the fear of being locked in the iron maiden.
In Booker’s track when he talks about his children in the cave, They Grow Old, we also have a piano, because he’s remembering and also feeling grief and sorrow.
And in What If We Don’t Live Forever? when Andy is sitting in the car after Celeste took care of her wound, we hear piano again, because she’s reflecting on Lykon’s death and her own mortality. But, interesting details, strings join at the end of the track. Has Nile started to influence her character? Who knows, but I’m saying it.
And we have the piano again when Nile drive away when Andy and Booker go to Copley’s, because she’s thinking of her family and feeling guilty about the man she killed and feeling overwhelmed over her new immortal identity.
Also, when Joe and Nicky are taken and there’s only three of them left driving to the mine, we have almost no percussion and very soft synth, because the team isn’t complete, so why would the Old Guard's signature music be?
We do, very quickly, get their music when Nile look at Copley’s board and understand the role Andy and the Old Guard had in humanity, track Montenegro.
Nile get her own song moment with “Going Down Fighting" as she go save the team, and when she frees them, We Won’t Give Up mixes synth with her strings.
And to keep on with the awesome symbolism, in The Old Guard Attack (that moment before the explosion where they take down like 10 mercenaries together) over the sounds we get for them from the first three track there’s strings, Nile’s instrument. The team added her to their music, she’s accepted just like she accepted them with Montenegro when she came back for them. That’s what we call very cool composition people.
And remember what I said about the choirs being gone? How for the entire movie, after they dream of Nile and Andy yeet herself jump from the train they’re nowhere to be heard? At the end for You Are Going To Help Us, they’re back. Because Nile has chosen her way, she’s an Old Guard now, she’s part of the family so she gets to have the Old Guard music too.
Just listen to The Old Guard and You Are Going to Help Us, the first and last track. They are very similar in melody and structure, but in the second one you get more prominent strings. Again, Nile’s instrument. Is it subtle enough yet?
I’ve skipped some tracks because once you expose the idea it gets repetitive to mention it from all tracks it appears in, but you get the idea.
Seriously if you have time try to give it a listen, it’s actually really nice. Tho, fair warning, I’m the kind of person that listen to movies and games soundtracks for fun all the time and geek out about ambient music, so...
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And finally, to come back to what I said, and why this ost is so good, I need to talk about the whole atmosphere Gina Prince-Bythewood gave to the movie.
I talked a bit about it here (long post too, sorry), but the movie isn’t all big explosions and SFX and actions in your face. It’s gritty, dark, and incredibly realist. GPB said she used blood pocket for the Kill Floor scene (The Old Guard - How to Shoot a Shootout- Netflix, at about 3:30 she talks about it) because she needed the gore realism of blood spraying out of them. That’s why there’s no fancy light, neons and colors nor very symmetrical or intricate photography but washed out lights and very minimal outstanding feature and even coloring unless it’s to make a point (there’s a post about centering subject in the shot in The Old Guard going around, like Nile in the elevator at the end, very cool). It’s also why they used wide angle for the camera and the “shaky cam”, the camera that’s moving along the characters with lot of shakes because it’s on the cameraman’s shoulder (think documentaries and things like that, again, grounded and realistic film) and not smoothly like you would see in a Fincher movie for example.
It’s also why the most sober ost works so well. It’s not like John Wick with the guitars of Tyler Bates and Le Castle Vania electro, or the Avengers big brass and epic musics. Not, it’s soft, it’s barely noticeable and it only pushes for more emotions, it doesn’t artificially force any on you. The plot and actor’s acting do that for you.
That’s why I think the ost fit so well, no matter that some people think it’s boring or non existent. That’s the goal, to have a soundtrack that uplift without shadowing, something that's just as dark and neutral and gritty as the photography and themes of death, immortality, humanity, etc.
That being said, go listen to some ambient, it’s nice.
#tog#the old guard meta#gina prince-bythewood#nile freeman#andromache the scythian#joe x nicky#sebastien le livre#quynh#the old guard netflix#dustin o’halloran#hauschka#this is so much longer than I anticipated omg#but i like music and i like over analyzing oops#anyway enjoy this it took me like two hours to organize my thoughts into something coherent lmao#em speaks#the old guard review
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For the Sake of Content- Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Curiosity Killed the Cat
Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.
A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry this took me ages to write, I was having a bit of writers block with the chapter, but I finally got it out! I also finally got the plot moving and am hoping to make this around 15 chapters or so, maybe 20 if I can figure out some more discourse that could happen or something. But I’m open to suggestions for what the readers want to see!
Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader
Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, smut, fluff, some friendly banter between roger and reader, Dom!Roger, Angst, public kink, consensual filming, alcohol, smoking, mentions of cheating, idk its really just sex, not proof read
Word Count: 3.7k
The bar the boys played at tonight was dingy and small, per usual, but you found yourself not minding because you found that the dirtier the bar the better the beer and the better the crowd. You also had the company of Veronica while the two of you waited for the boys to go onstage, she told you about her night with John, apparently it went without a hitch and he loved the lingerie, as you suspected.
Roger pulled up to your side, slipping his hands around your waist and placing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck, “Do you want to do it before or after the show?” He murmured against your skin.
You felt your stomach clench and let out a soft nearly missed gasp before you shrugged him off “After, I wouldn’t want to ware you out too much.” You couldn’t help but drag your tongue along your lower lip in a tantalizing manor causing Roger to break out into a smug grin. You didn’t know why you wanted to make him wait, knowing what was coming made your nerves stand on end and caused you to clench your thighs together, maybe it was because you knew the build up would be worth it.
Roger’s face maintained his smirk and he slipped a hand under the skirt Freddie had helped you pick out and grabbed your ass in a less than graceful manor. You jumped and playfully shoved his chest, “Go set up your kit, rock star.” You joked as his hand lingered in place before he padded off.
The lights flickered on and off, catching the attention of everyone in the bar while your four favorite boys filed onstage and fiddled with their equipment and set it up. A murmuring hum of voices died down when the sound of the guitars tuning and tinkering on the drum set filled the room. It was loud, just how Fred liked it and you could feel the vibrations of Brian’s Red Special practically vibrating your teeth together and the beat of Roger’s bass drum thumping against your chest. You could already tell this concert would be good.
Roger twirled his sticks between his fingers and made faces at the girls in the crowd to rile them up, he wore his shawl with no shirt underneath and a pair of too tight jeans that he probably stole from the thrift store while his hair looked as though it was strategically messy. You couldn’t wait until he took you in the bathroom and fucked you against the bathroom stall.
Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of Brian’s fancy guitar and Roger’s symbols crashed together and Freddie’s voice sang out. The lights flashed to the beat of Roger’s symbols and Freddie’s stylishly garish outfit flowed as he riled up the crowd with his movements. When the lights turned on, revealing their stage illuminated in red you couldn’t help but gape at them.
They truly all had magnificent stage presence. Brian and Freddie in their nearly matching outfits, John with his subtle head bobs that you knew would soon lean to him hopping about stage, and Roger’s brows furrowed with focus as he banged on his set for dear life.
The lights dramatically shifted to blue and Freddie stood confidently in the middle of the stage as he introduced the next song “It’s time for the” He took in a deep breath “Ogre Battle.”
Somewhere between the beginning of the concert and the small little drum solo break you saw beer, bouncing rhythmically on Roger’s drums as he threw his head back and spat. You could tell from the red lighting shined off his chest and the way his hair clumped together that he was covered in sweat. You quickly gulped down your beer before moving onto the next one you luckily had in your hand as your stomach clenched. His face was so determined, and his eyes looked wild, yet his movements seemed so effortless and the way he snarled into the microphone while he sang made you clench your beer a little tighter.
As they closed their show, Freddie has barely been able to say goodbye to the crowd before Roger was up, throwing his sticks off stage to some random audience member. He was now shirtless, except for the necklaces that layered his neck, and his hair was clinging to his face, shoulders, and back from the sticky layer of sweat that covered his body. He walked with long strides off stage, cleaning up his kit was the last thing on his mind right now.
It didn’t take him very long to find you in the crowd. Roger wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against his sweaty and sticky chest, “Bathroom, now.” He hissed into your ear before he pulled away and gripped your hand and pulled you through the crowd of people.
As soon as you entered the dingey two stall woman’s restroom Roger pulled you into the closest stall and gripped your wrists, slamming you against the cool metallic stall. The cold metal bit into your skin and you let out a breathy gasp which was quickly swallowed as Roger crashed his lips against yours in a messy heated kiss. Your teeth clanked together, and you laced your fingers in Roger’s tangled and sweaty hair.
Roger’s hand slipped under your skirt and you could feel him smirking against your skin, “This pretty pussy of yours is all wet for me, innit?” He asked, nipping at your neck.
You hummed feeling the stubble on his chin scrape against your neck, “Only for you,” you responded with a coy smile.
Roger pulled away and peered at you through his lashes, “So how do you want to do this?” He asked, his expression suddenly going serious.
You swallowed thickly and handed him your phone, the video camera already out and ready for filming before you pulled him into another hot open-mouthed kiss, “Just fuck me already.” You mumbled against his soft lips.
A soft laugh rumbled through his chest as he turned you over and pushed you down at an angle. Instinctively your legs opened up for him to nestle between them. He held the camera up and lifted your skirt up with his free hand, smoothing it over the round swell of your ass and lightly slapping it. You jumped and sharply inhaled as you felt him grind against your clothed and wet core, “Fuck me, please.” You pushed back against him desperately.
You could imagine the stupid cheeky grin on Roger’s face as the words left your lips, but your mind quickly went blank as soon as he pushed your panties to the side and the cool bathroom air brushed against you. You tensed ever so slightly, and your stomach filled with nerves; you could hear the sound of the crowd outside and the thrill of getting caught went straight to your core and made you throb. Roger’s hand dove between your legs and harshly rubbed your clit, not bothering to build up to the aggressive and almost overstimulating sensation. You cooed and your back arched at the sensation, “Quiet, love.” Roger mumbled as he slipped two fingers into you, “Don’t want anyone hearing how much of a slut you are.” He mocked as he pumped his fingers in and out of your wet core.
It felt as though the sounds of your wetness were echoing off the walls and slamming against your eardrums. You couldn’t help but whimper out as his rough fingers curled expertly inside you. Roger immediately pulled the out, “Turn around,” He commanded, a shiver crept down your spine and you turned around to face him. He’d taken off the silky little sash he had tied to his pants, “Open.” He demanded and cupped your face, squeezing your cheeks together to force your mouth open.
You winced slightly feeling your teeth biting into your cheek and, “What?” You asked now confused.
“I told you not to make any fucking noise, didn’t I?” He chastised before letting out a disappointed sigh, “Apologize.” He ordered still roughly holding your cheeks.
Your heart hammered against your chest and you followed his orders, “I’m sorry,” You whimpered and closed your mouth.
Roger shook his head, “I said open,” He lightly shook your jaw and forced your mouth open, “Since you can’t be quiet, I’ll help you.” He flashed you a cheeky smirk as you mumbled a soft thank you and opened your mouth. Roger slipped the silky and slightly musky smelling fabric into your mouth and you couldn’t help but pout a little bit.
You were quickly turned and pressed against the bathroom stall at an angle once again. Roger didn’t bother taking your panties off, instead he just pushed them aside and pushed in after he slipped his condom on. The pace Roger set was ruthless and unforgiving, his hips slapped against yours in quick succession while your hands curled against the metal you were using for support. The metal bit into your hot skin and made your nerves stand on end while muffled noises spilled from your lips and into the silk barrier Roger had shoved into it only moments prior.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you rested the side of your face against the door, not caring how filthy it was in the moment. The door rattled with the force of your body slamming into it over and over again.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Roger cursed through gritted teeth.
All of a sudden, he stopped and hushed the sounds of protest you whimpered out. The door creaked open and you could hear chatter among two women as they walked in. You turned to look at Roger, your face red on one side from the door and eyes hazy; his brows were tightly knit together but the expression of concentration was soon traded for something slightly more devilish.
Slowly he moved his hips back and forth at an agonizing pace. Your brain felt as though it was boiling in your head and soon your thoughts were filled with TV static.
“Oh my gosh did you see the band before?” One of the women asked.
“Yeah, what was their name again? Queen? God that one with the hair? What a snack.” Their conversation was practically flowing from one ear and out the other.
“The one with black hair? Oh my god, those curls were to DIE for.”
Roger rolled his eyes and lightly scoffed at the comments the women made regarding Brian while keeping his leisurely pace. Your brows furrowed and eyes clenched tightly shut as you tried to maintain your composure with the two women in the room. For some reason the prospect of getting caught aroused you more and caused your walls to twitch around Roger’s length. You could feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and desperately tried to hold back the whimper that was caught in the back of your throat.
The two women left the room and you let out a choked sob as your walls spasmed and clenched around Roger’s length. Your back arched and your breasts pressed against the stall door, lightly nipping through the fabric of your shirt. The overwhelming sensation and contrast of temperature caused your brain to go muddy and soon blank.
Roger gripped the meat of your ass tightly “Fuck, oh shit.” He hissed out as you continued to throb around him. He pumped in and out at a quicker pace, “You were such a good girl,” He said in a haggard tone. His hips slapped against yours, his climax still far off in the distance, “Not making any sound as I fucked you when they came in.” His breathing was heavy and labored as his orgasm came into view. “Fucking Christ.” He clenched his jaw and hissed out as he finally came, shooting into the condom and riding out his high.
After the two of you cleaned yourselves up in the restroom, Roger grinned up at you, still drunk with pleasure, “You were fucking brilliant.” He said, you couldn’t help but look at the sash that was once stuffed in your mouth and was now tied around his waist, a dark damp spot gathered on the fabric.
You shook your head, trying to clear it of the lewd thoughts, “If I was that great, buy me a drink.” You teased.
Roger’s face maintained his grin, “I can manage that.” He said and straightened himself up before moving to exit the stall.
You stopped and stood in the mirror and fixed your hair, Roger came behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist “You look great.” He said and kissed your shoulder softly.
You felt your heart clench at his words, “Thanks,” You mumbled under your breath.
Roger left the bathroom and a cool rush of air hit your back that he once covered. You couldn’t help but find yourself longing for the familiar warmth he brought to you.
Exiting the bathroom wasn’t any trouble, what you found trouble in was the questions you were battered with from Freddie as soon as you got back to the table, “Where did you go?” Freddie asked, leaning both his elbows onto the table while leaning forward.
You pursed your lips, “Smoke break.” You said smiling softly.
Freddie hummed and clicked his tongue against his teeth, “That must have been a long cigarette for you to be gone for thirty minutes.” He said and tapped his chin, looking over to Roger, “And what about you?” He pressed.
Roger shrugged his shoulders, “Fucked some girl I saw in the crowd in the bathroom.” He said as honestly as he could. You tried to shoot him a look, but he didn’t even give you a second glance.
Fred grinned “You dog, Rog.” He said, slapping his friend on the shoulder. Roger surged forward and coughed up what he inhaled of his drink as it splattered all on the exposed skin of his chest.
You let out a soft huff before slamming the rest of your drink down and getting up, “Anyone need another drink? I’m going up to get one.” You said pausing for a moment.
Veronica raised her hand, quickly finishing her drink, “I’ll get a refill.” She said scooting out past the boys.
The two of you walked up to the bar and patiently waited for the bartender to wait on you, “So where did you really go?” Veronica said with a sly smirk playing on her face.
You shifted, nervously tapping your fist of money on the bar, “I don’t you, to the bar.” You couldn’t hide the smile that gave way the fact that you were lying.
“Come on, I won’t tell anyone.” She leaned closer in, hoping you’d spill.
You let out a deep sigh, “I was with Roger.” You rushed out.
Veronica gaped at you, her mouth hanging ajar and eyes wide “You where what!?!” She shouted, “You and Roger!?! Shagging!?!” her voice continued to raise in pitch as her disbelief increased
You quickly pulled her close and shushed her, “Please don’t tell anyone!” You pleaded, “It’s nothing, really, just casual.”
Veronica grinned manically at you, “How is he? Does he live up to the hype?” She pried, “I mean he must be in order to shag in the bathroom…”
You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, “I mean, yeah, he’s fine.” You bashfully averted your gaze. Veronica’s smile suddenly fell, and her eyes narrowed as she looked over your shoulder; you turned and followed her gaze, “What?” you pressed struggling to pick out what had soured her mood so suddenly.
She nudged her direction, helping to give you a general direction of where to look and then you saw it, Roger was talking to a pretty girl. You could spot her dark hair and olive skin tone even in the dimly lit bar. You pursed your lips, “Who’s that?” You asked, seeing Roger break away from their hug and keep his hand on the small of her back.
“Roger’s ex-girlfriend. Dominique.” The words dripped from her mouth like sludge.
“I’ve never heard of her before.” It was the truth, neither Roger nor Fred had mentioned her at all.
Veronica sighed and turned towards the bar, finally ordering drinks for the both of you, “They were together for three years, broke up shortly after John and I started dating.” She turned towards you, “Didn’t you ask Fred, why Roger had been looking for a new roommate?”
You shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t think of it,”
She pursed her lips, “I don’t know a lot about their breakup, but I do know Roger was heartbroken, didn’t see the poor lad for weeks.” She hummed and sipped her drink, “He broke it off with her though, I know that much.” She paused for a moment, glancing back over at Roger, “Fred didn’t like her very much.” She added before she began walking back towards the table.
Veronica slipped back into her seat next to John and you searched the table but found that there were no more open seats, Dominque had taken your spot and was happily chatting away with Roger. He was grinning from ear to ear and for some reason, it made your stomach churn. You turned towards Fred, his brows were tightly knit and his lips were pursed together before he finally caught your gaze and flashed you an award winning smile.
“Dom!” He said catching her attention, “This is [Y/N], Roger’s new roommate.”
Dominique looked you up and down slowly, as though she were inspecting every inch, “[Y/N]!” She grinned at you, “Dominique.” She reached her hand out for you to shake which you graciously took and grasped firmly, “How is it living with Rog?” She smiled and scrunched her nose.
You couldn’t help but let out an awkward laugh, “Oh, well, you know,” You shrugged, “He eats my food and struggled to do dishes, but he isn’t too bad.”
Roger scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes, “I told you if you don’t want it to be eaten, mark it!” He teased you.
Everyone conversed through out the night, but you continued to stand awkwardly to the side. You felt as though you were now looking at a group with established dynamics and history, they were catching up like old friends and here you were intruding. You weren’t even friends with anyone else in the group beside for Freddie, sure you and Veronica were now close acquaintances, but you still felt as though you were cast out.
You didn’t know what to say or how to interact, so you did the first thing that came to mind. You slammed your drink and raised your glass, “I’m going to get refills, anyone want to tag along?” You asked, looking around the table, to your surprise Brian stood up.
“I’ll join.” He said finishing the last little bit of his beverage.
Going to the bar with Brian didn’t make you feel more comfortable, if anything it made you feel more uncomfortable than you had before. His tall lanky frame dwarfed you and his hair and eloquent speech intimidated you. Not to mention you had maybe said five words to the guy in the entire time you’d known him. Brian flagged down the bartender, “Scotch and coke,” He ordered before turning towards you, “Do you want anything? I’ll buy as a thank you for getting me away from that insufferable woman.” He grinned at you with a surprising amount of playfulness.
You couldn’t help but grin back, “Surprise me, but no dark liquor.” You said and within the minute Brian had handed you what you could assume was something mixed with vodka. “No fond of Dom?” You pressed, hoping for some answers to your curiosity.
Brian scoffed, “Not in the slightest.” He said, leaning against the bar and stalling on going back to the table, “Roger was a right bitch when he broke up with her.” He sighed, “He’s already a bit of a pain but that made it worse.”
You smiled, knowing Roger and Brian bickered like brothers, “Why’d they break up?” Curiosity killed the cat and frankly, you were begging for it.
Brian pursed his thin lips, “I think she cheated on him or something,” He let out a deep sigh, “It wasn’t like a one off, it was like she had a whole different long term relationship going on at the same time.” He shook his head.
You frowned probably knowing how Roger felt in the moment. “It’s a shame,” You said and cleared your throat, “Roger’s an idiot but he doesn’t deserve that.”
Brian raised his glass in agreement, “We should head back.”
By the time you returned with your drinks, Roger and Dominique were whispering and giggling quietly to each other. Your frown got deeper every time you heard one of them giggling, so once again you downed your drink, allowing it to fuel your sudden need to go home, “I’m catching a ride back.” You said suddenly and grabbing your jacket off the back of the chair.
You didn’t know if it your brain was muddied from the sex or what, but you needed to leave before something happened. Fred perked up and glanced at you, “Do you want anyone to ride back with you?” he asked.
You shrugged, but then quickly followed it with a head shake, “No, Roger’s a little preoccupied and I don’t want to trouble any of you.” Your words sounded bitter and you couldn’t hide it anymore.
It didn’t surprise you when Roger didn’t bother to look over at you as you said your name or as you left.
Your ride home was quiet, and you made polite conversation with your driver, but still the bitter emotions seeped out of you like sweat. Even as you readied yourself for bed you couldn’t help but stair at the ceiling, silently hoping you’d hear the familiar sound of Roger stumble through the door and drop his keys like he usually did on nights out, but you didn’t. Instead you just heard the unfamiliar creaks of the apartment building as it settled.
NOTE: Hi again! I just wanted to add that this chapter doesn’t mean any slander towards Dominique, it's literally just for the sake of advancing the plot and causing some spicy drama
#roger taylor x reader#roger taylor#roger taylor smut#roger taylor fanfic#roger taylor series#roger taylor blurb#ben hardy!roger x reader#ben hardy!roger taylor#ben hardy!roger taylor x reader#queen x reader#queen fanfic#queen smut#borhap#borhap fanfic
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If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 4 (Jack White x OC)
Summary: A time line of Lee’s life after a certain event. Chock full of hardships, odd music choices, and the FBI watchlist. Overall an incredibly important chapter.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Alcohol abuse, cursing, frank iero
NOTES: Fuck. Its been a while hasnt it? schools a bitch. anyways i thought this was the best way to move the story along. Besides the early days werent really important. well it was, but it was th lead up. Still I think this is pretty damn good. Took me for fuckin ever. I hope you enjoy!
I think I could’ve saved myself from more heartbreak if I just stopped fucking the man that was slowly breaking me, sparing me from the years of emptiness I just floated through. We could’ve only been friends and ended it at that, but I fell in love with him.
It took me a year to realize id made the biggest mistake of my life. He was my mistake. I saw all this like I did relish every moment we had together, like every time he kissed me, I felt my chest grow warm. I never had a bad moment with him. When we fucked it was just me and him, which is so incredibly cheesy, but when you’re that intoxicated by the touch of another, its all you can think about. Nothing else existed. Bad breakups, a growing rift in old friends, the unpaid bills sitting on your counter. The truth. It genuinely was witchcraft on his end. I think the songs he wrote when we were together were actually just love spells.
This went on for a year. I waited for him and meg when they went to the meeting that landed them their first studio album. Hell, I even taught him slide and played on their track “Suzy Lee.” Looking back at that moment always makes me laugh, the irony of it all, how I shielded myself from any truths. I think I realized I loved him when I opened my apartment door to see him with freshly cut hair. The sides shaved, the red just as wild as always but dyed a firetruck red. To this day, its the worst haircut I’ve ever seen someone get, and that day I died with laughter. He was always so confident in his looks, but that day he was in a panic. I had to console him and try to convince him it wasn’t that bad.
“Rosie, it looks like someone glued fake fur to the top of my head.”
The both of us sat cross-legged across from each other on the bed, trying to assess the damage. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Fixing any loose hairs, which was the entirety of his hair. I scooted forward and played with it, trying to find any feasible angles.
“Jacky, it’s not that bad, it looks quite handsome from this angle.” I pretended to style it. There was no fixing it, but I could boost his ego to last until it grew back.
He grabbed the hand mirror sitting next to him and tried every angle. Worry had found its way into
every part of his face.
“Mmm well, I guess it’s not as bad as I thought,” He couldn’t stop touching it. “Thanks, Rosie.” He smiled at me the same way he always did, lips pulled tight, making his face scrunch up with those warm eyes.
I still looked at him and saw the most handsome man, even with that ridiculous haircut.
It never took much to convince him of something or to do something for that matter. If you put any liquid in his hand he’d drink it, I think I watched him drink hand sanitizer on a dare made by Ben. I never convinced him to go on a date with me, though. We always spent our time alone together, holed up in my room. Though back then, I always considered our late-night solo show adventures a good filler. He never noticed how happy they made me. That should’ve been a red flag, but they always just look like flags in rose-colored glasses. I seemed to be an expert at collecting red flags. I convinced myself for years that my time with my ex back in Nashville was normal.
Harriet pulled my head out of ass, though, and brought me here. To more red flags. It’s funny how completely opposite the two of them are. Jack and John (John and John if you want to get technical). John, at first, took me everywhere. He knew everyone and could get in anywhere. He showed me off and always made it clear who he was with. Once he had me fully wrapped around his finger, and we were living together, it switched. I wasn’t allowed to go out, not without his permission. I couldn’t talk to anyone except my bandmates, that was limited too. He held my playing shows above my head. If I was “good,” I could play under his supervision. I mean, he managed our band, he always knew our every move. It’s easy to misconstrue love, confuse what possession is. I was his pet, his thing to show off and shove in a closet until he needed me again. It took years to notice that it wasn’t okay.
The beginning is always just so intoxicating.
Jack just had this air to him, that same confidence as john. He knew he was talented and certainly knew he was good looking. The difference is Jack is humble. He could barely take a complaint from me, and as he grew, he didn’t know how to handle the attention. He didn’t lavish in it as John had, as short-lived as his attention was. Jack and I hid away, our confessions of our true feelings hiding on lyric sheets feet away from the other. That made my want stronger, I never felt I could have him, but we were so close it almost felt like I could have him. Its that moment, though, when you stare at each other with such love and warmth, faces growing so close you could feel their body heat. Your so close you can almost taste it, and that’s the moment he leaves. We didn’t cuddle. We weren’t affectionate. It was his choice. He left after tender moments, he left before breakfast, and he left before we finished the last verse of our song. We never were anything, and we never got anywhere. Me being me, it never was a thought in my mind. My judgment was clouded every time he looked at me with those eyes that pulled me in the first time.
While we grew closer, nothing ever changed, he came over, we fucked, and then wrote together. Sharing the same Camel pack every time. I never thought he shared my feelings for him. He never showed it. He was as open as he was closed. He only let you see what he wanted. That was until me, and the girls were all hanging around during a White Stripes practice. Which was quite common. We all watched each other play, testers for anything new that we cooked up. Meg was weirdly good at knowing what riffs people would like. She always was smarter than any of us would ever be.
That day Jack introduced a new song. It wasn’t entirely new to me. I taught him the parts, I always played the solos. He never quite got it back then. I was overjoyed to finally hear it. None of the girls were too focused on them. They always got stupid high. Jack and Meg’s landlord didn’t quite care if they smoked, not that ever did, though. It was a slower song, and a lot of work was put into it. Knowing him, the lyrics always had just as much care.
He refused to meet my eyes. He didn’t look at me once. His eyes quickly flipping between the wall behind me and his guitar. It was very, obviously intentional. He was a storyteller, he always did it so carefully in songs, hiding the message. This seemed incredibly open. Too obvious. He was hesitant. It wasn’t until the “Chorus” (it could barely be called a chorus) that he started to get a bit more confident. It was apparent he had a lot to say.
Miss Suzy lee
The one I'm speaking of
The question is
Is she the one I love?
Is she the one I love?
That made my ears perk up, my eyes locked onto the floor. Why was I afraid to look at him?
Maybe I was thinking about it too much. My hope tends to get the best of me. Still, this pit in my stomach was growing with each note he played.
She sent me flowers
The name of an incredibly sappy song I showed him
With her tears burned inside
Again it was embarrassingly open
And you know what I'd do?
I would run and hide.
I would run and hide.
Fuck. I think my imagination and reality were clashing. I might actually have finally snapped and lost it.
And the paper
On it was my name
Okay, I definitely did hide the unofficial nickname I made for him. I didn't use it often. I called him “Tree” when I was annoyed with him.
With the question
Do you feel the same?
Do you feel the same?
I knew. I knew he didn’t notice my intentions that day, though he should’ve won an oscar for his acting. He pretended like he didn’t notice.
I think I’m going to legitimately throw up on their ratty couch. I’m going to throw up, and it’s his fault. Jesus, I’m overreacting to a song that’s probably not about me. Fuck I need this to be over so I can breathe. Maybe look up from this thrifted carpet.
Again his words make my head snap up. This time I met his eyes.
To end this tale
The one I'm speaking of
I wish I had an answer, but I just don't know
Is this really love?
I left the room as fast as possible after he said love. I didn’t think I could stomach it. Fuck. Shit. Jesus Christ, retribution may be in my future.
Everything changed after that. I couldn’t look at him, I avoided him, the hope would kill me. It was killing me. I’ve always gotten too excited over people, too attached, and whenever this moment came, I spiraled. I had longed for his love for so long, and the idea of getting it overwhelmed me, being around him overwhelmed me. I avoided him, said I was busy every time he asked to hang out. I didn’t even bother to hide that I was making excuses. It took him a week to stop taking my bullshit. Jack was incredibly blunt. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. One night he knocked on our door, and someone other than me answered, and they sent him my way. I didn’t tell the girls my feelings. I was too afraid to say it out loud. I didn’t want to be in love again. I loathed it. I wanted to be the person who could be fuck buddies and be fine with it, but I fall too hard. Every fucking time. It’s inescapable.
My dad always said I loved harder than others and should hold onto it, but it only hurt me.
That night fucked everything up. He didn’t look at me. If he did, it wasn’t for long. For the first time, he looked cowardly. He stormed into my room. I could hear his very distinguishable and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart pounded into my throat with every footstep. He didn’t knock. He always knocked. His hair had grown out, it lost its curl, but it hung in his face just as it always did. He didn’t look smug. He didn’t have his bubble of confidence. He was meek. He was small. I remember his hands flying to his pockets. He did that when he was nervous.
As I said before, he doesn’t beat around the bush. I wish he did that day. Spared my heartbreak for a few minutes.
“Lee, I can’t love you.”
Those fucking words. They rang through my mind for years. Every time I saw him in the news, saw his face in magazines in passing at grocery stores. It felt like id been ripped in half, I was speechless, I physically could not form words. That feeling happened every once in a while when I reminded. Overtime I numbed to it.
`He was married. Can you believe that? I was the mistress and with my best friend’s husband. The moment he pulled his hand out to scratch his face, I saw it. The wedding band that was never there before. I think he wore to mess with me, one last laugh. He knew this would be the end of us ever seeing each other, working together.
He said he kept it off during shows for the brother-sister act, and just took it off before seeing me. Jack was never a coward, but it took him a year to tell him he was married. I hung out with them daily, I watched their dog when they toured, and I never noticed once. He was fucking married. The real kicker is that the girls knew too and didn’t tell me earlier. They let me live on with my sins. I felt so dirty. He just kept talking that day. He didn’t stop. Nervously rambled on, and he never did that. He was quiet. He opened his mouth to say something that’ll either make you cry laughing or make your heart swell. He was whip-smart and knew when to speak. I just let him go until he ran out of steam, tears quietly slipping down my cheeks. Still, stone-faced. The moment he stopped, I just silently showed him out and softly shut the door behind him.
That night, I about committed arson, okay I didn’t, but I sure wanted to. At first, I cried. And cried,… and cried. It was a mess. Soon that turned to me having a small existential crisis and dumping everything on the cashier at the liquor store who definitely knew the others, and was incredibly uncomfortable. We went there a lot. As soon as the alcohol had been bought, it was gone. I spent the night binge drinking and wrecking everything in my room. I ripped up my journals for songs, I set a small fire to my sketches of him, and I very furiously tried to wash the smell of him out of my sheets. I also punched a hole in my wall, which I kept a secret until the girls moved out. The next day I switched to Marlboros, the smell of camels gives me that same gut punch. It was his brand.
I said some not great things to the girls. I blamed them for my downfall for not telling me. I made them my excuse. I shortly left the band. We had tried to do a show, but I was so drunk I couldn’t remember most of the songs. I was also told I was lost my pants at some point.
I moved out of the house and lost all ties to them. I cut all ties to jack. I couldn’t go home, though. I burned too many bridges with my family and friends, a bad habit I seemed to have. I still played shows.
The good thing to come out of my rage and fall into substance abuse was my music. I went through some phases. I was playing my standard stuff for a while, just with a bit more... Anger? Then some months later, in ��99, the stripe’s first album came out. Of course, I fucking bought it. I kept all their records. I couldn’t let go for some reason. I listened to it on repeat. I was so outraged that it was good. I heard myself in their songs, saw my name in the liner notes, I heard myself in his lyrics. I was obsessed; it was great. For two years, I fought and scratched to get some kind of record deal. I got a two-album deal. I toured nonstop, played with some damn good musicians, though I never was happy.
I lived a life of driving and playing. Most of the time, I had no fucking clue what state I was in. In New Jersey around 2003, I’d made some friends and played with them for a bit, fucking around in their basement. I lived there for a bit. I couldn’t stomach Detroit. I stayed consistently drunk from that night in ‘98 until 2004 when I received a friend’s call, showing me where I was headed.
We talked through it, and both decided to get sober. We both were sick. They sparked something musical in me, though. I started to get heavier, I played punk, I put my aggression entirely into my music. I produced my own stuff then, scraping what I could together. I made that record and went back to Detroit. As painful as it was, I couldn’t go back to Nashville, so I was stuck here. I mostly just fucked around, still living pretty much like a hermit, making music in my basement. When the Elephant came out, I couldn’t avoid hearing The White Stripes. They were an international success. I still collected all their records and listened to them extensively. As time went on, my existence in his lyrics disappeared. As for him, it did for me, I’d given up. It was dumb to be upset over it all these years later, still, thinking of him hurt so much. I was restless. I was bored. I wanted to be back out on the road again.
While I was usually blackout drunk every day, I still loved it. Playing something new somewhere new every day. That’s when my friend frank from my New Jersey days called me up in ‘07 to join his new band. I think he was just as fed up and restless as I was. We played “hardcore punk.” though that's debatable. We were sick of shit and needed to yell about it. It was my last hurrah with my inner turmoil. We finished the album and got onto the FBI watchlist for a political song.
I looked down at my phone to see I was getting a call from “Party Dad.” I knew what this is about.
“Did- did they show up at your door too?”
“Frank, you know they did.”
“Dude was fucking on the FBI’s list!” He was just as excited as I was.
“Hell fucking yeah, we are! You know we were still playing the song.”
“Oh, you know it. We will find a way around what they said. Plus fuck the government, that’s the whole point.”
“Two 30 something-year-olds on the FBI watchlist for a fucking song. This day could not get better.”
See here for the song
And toured. We toured for a while. Our last tour date was actually on my birthday in ‘08. In Nashville, no less. I didn’t tell my family, and surely didn’t expect them to be there. I never saw them, but I did see a familiar face. A significantly grown-up Ben Blackwell front and center. It caught me by surprise, that’s for sure, I slipped up a note or two upon seeing him. Though when we met up after, I was surprised how cool I stayed. I hadn’t seen anyone from my past in the years since. Ben has always been the sweet kid. I could never be mad. After that, we always stayed in touch, and whenever one of us was in Detroit or Nashville, we always met up. We recorded a couple tracks too. He’s always been a hell of a drummer.
The band didn’t live long because of the others projects, but I always worked with Frankie when he asked. I even played drums for most of his last album. I got a call while trying to make a drumline for one of the tracks. It was my mom. I hadn’t spoken to her in 14 years. The last time we talked, we’d gotten into the screaming match to end all screaming matches over my focus and direction in life. She didn’t want me to move, she didn’t want me to pursue music, and she didn’t want me to leave John. She always worried I’d die an old maid. I hadn’t dated since Jack, so I can see her concern now.
She dropped the bomb that my dad was sick. Of course, he was sick of all people. He was the most important man in my life. I hated being away from him. I could never bear to see him, and it turns out I’ve been wasting my time with him. All the tour stops, and I hadn’t seen him once. Guilt filled me. I felt the weight of it all. I felt the same tearing feeling, the same gut punch. I told frank everything, and him being him, he sent me off as quickly as possible to be with my family.
My mom didn’t mention the fight. She just hugged me and sent me to my dad’s room. She couldn’t look at me, though.
The moment I entered the house, I could hear Willie Nelson, a Red-headed stranger. It was always his favorite. My dad never showed his pain. He wanted to show us strength. It was heartbreaking to see him now in this state. I pushed it down. We talked for hours, and I told him everything, good and bad. He was always understanding. He knew my mind and reasoning better than I do.
When Ben invited me to a Third Man event, I hesitated. We see each other frequently now that I’m back in town for who knows how long. He always invites me shows and record release parties. I always declined, even though my feelings have changed, I still can’t see jack.
This time though, he said jack wouldn’t be there, something about his kids. Which took me by surprise, yet didn’t surprise me at all. So I agreed. To my dislike. I love ben, but the thought of being in Jack’s business nauseates me.
I watched the show from behind in the control room. Even though id heard it a million times, Ben did not hesitate to talk me through the live recording process. I was half paying attention, aimlessly looking at the crowd.
Then I heard that laugh, the same from all those years ago.
My heart leapt, panic-filled. I about pushed Ben over trying to get his attention. The footsteps. The heavy thuds came down the polished hallway. I nearly tore ben apart, trying to ask him if there was a bathroom.
I was waiting for my breath. There were two entrances. Both blocked. I could either join the band on stage or run straight into the man I’m trying so hard to avoid. Ben looked so frazzled, trying to calm me down. I felt a shiver run through me, and I suddenly stopped. I was frozen, looking at the hallway.
The bustle stopped, the footsteps stopped, all the people around him stopped in confusion. I locked eyes with him the moment he entered the room. No one dared move. Ben looked terrified next to, and the men around jack were whispering to themselves, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Then he spoke, almost like he didn’t believe I was in front of him.
“Rosie?”
#jack white#jack white x OC#jack white fic#nosferatyou writes#If I can be so bold#The white stripes#meg white#leathermouth#frank iero#nosferatyous masterlist#i really said fuck jack lets simp for frankie#nah we love our raccoon boy#im tired#jack white bring but the cut 2020#i like your cut g#*SLAP*#even through this im sure lee was like fuck hes hot#who wouldnt#except fot the stache#fuck the facial hair phase
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12.13
There wasn’t going to be a burlesque show that night for the good people of Kill Devil Hills, but the burlesque performers weren’t planning on surrendering the tent, either. They had Ezra and a new guitar player captive, and the game of the hour was trying to find a song that both of them knew and could play. Poor Cody was having trouble keeping up, missing notes and breaking rhythm with Ezra.
Friday was wearing sequined underwear, exactly as she was meant to be. She’d spent the last hour going through costumes, now that she and the rest of the burlesque performers were at a truce. It had really only been Abernathy, the red-haired woman with the pink eyepatch, who’d had a problem with her. Abernathy had disappeared with Ezra for a while to handle something or other, and while she was away, Friday had made nice with everyone else. She’d exchanged the contentious blond wig for a bubblegum pink one that was as long as her old blue wig had been - though she still had her eye on the blond. Short hair was so convenient. She’d be back for it.
“How many routines do you put on per night?” she asked as she shimmied herself into a very tight dress. The dress was cut so low it showed almost all of the black sequined bra she had on underneath. It had not been made with the flat-chested in mind.
“That depends,” said Shoshana, one of the other dancers. Friday had decided she liked Shoshana. She was dressed in a too-big button down tucked into too-big pants belted in place. Her sun-bleached brown curls were cropped just under her ears. Most importantly, she didn’t seem to have any intention of hazing Friday. Shoshana sat on top of an unopened crate labeled “heels - very high,” chewing an unlit cigarette. “We try to stick to five minutes per routine.”
“Oh, we did them a bit longer at the Ace,” Friday said. “And with music in between. Course, we were looking for the audience to stay and buy drinks all night, not tip every girl.”
Friday started to wiggle out of the dress. It wasn’t right, and there was a red one folded in the bottom of the crate that had her eye.
“That wouldn’t work here,” Shoshana said. “People hold onto their money tighter when there’s other tents still to visit - or if they saved the burlesque show for last, when their wallet’s already light. Better to get them in and out for the next round of tippers.”
A quick audience turnover sounded like a convenient set-up for any pickpockets working the crowd, but Friday decided not to say anything. Business was business.
Friday stepped into the red dress. It was made of shot silk, giving it an iridescent shimmer. It had a long slit up the side that ended at Friday’s hip. The dress had no straps, making the sequined bra look ridiculous underneath. She twisted herself to try to take it off without taking off the dress first.
“That one looks good on you,” Shoshana said. She finally lit her cigarette, as if only just realizing she hadn’t done so already.
“Thanks,” Friday said. “How nice do you think I have to be to Abernathy to keep that blond wig?”
“Pretty nice,” Shoshana admitted. “Good thing Abernathy likes me.” She took a long drag on her cigarette. “Hey, sunshine?” she called, grinning to show off a chrome tooth.
Abernathy, draped across the piano on the other side of the tent, looked up. “What?”
“I want the blond wig,” Shoshana replied.
Abernathy frowned at her. “To give to…”
“Look at her,” Shoshana said. “She’s a mess without it. Not fit to be seen.”
Friday crossed her arms. “Well, hold on,” she said.
Abernathy slid gracefully down from the piano, a hiss of air escaping from her false leg.
The roar of a truck engine interrupted the exchange. Abernathy continued to approach, but she walked past Friday without so much as looking at her. Friday followed her out of the tent. The truck was still a ways down the road, but it definitely belonged to the circus. It was the same truck that Val and Johannes had left in that morning..
Abernathy watched it approach. Behind them, the piano came to a discordant stop, leaving Cody’s guitar alone to practice the last few bars. In seconds, Ezra had joined them outside of the tent.
“Does he have any idea what time it is?” he muttered.
The truck approached quickly, spitting up dust under the tires. It didn’t rejoin the circle where the other trucks were parked, but shuddered to a halt at an angle right in front of Friday, Abernathy, and Ezra. Johannes tumbled out of the driver’s side, not bothering to close the door.
Friday’s eyes widened. Johannes was covered in ash. For a split second, she was looking at Val stumbling out of the back door of his church. Johannes strode up to Ezra and started talking quickly, but Friday’s ears were ringing. She couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Val?” she said.
A crowd was growing around the truck as Val climbed down from the passenger side. He slammed the door closed behind him. She couldn’t see him - all she got was a passing glimpse through the windshield before the sun’s glare cut her short. Friday shouldered her way past several carnies, then finally turned the corner to face him.
She was staring the past right in the face. There were streaks of ash down Val’s cheeks. And his hair - his hair had caught fire in places. His shirt alone was suspiciously clean, as if he’d been wounded and treated and covered up again.
“It’s not even four o’clock, Friday,” he said chidingly, but with the slightest smile, as he leaned back against the truck. He averted his eyes in that infuriatingly polite way he always would when she was dressed for a performance.
Whatever Friday had been about to say to him fled her mind. Two separate memories of Val were smashed together in front of her, and it didn’t make sense. His words, even his posture, took her back to how things had been before John and Cody and the whirlwind that followed - he might have said the same thing to her some late afternoon at the church, her sitting on the edge of Val’s desk while he opened every drawer in search of the right size nail for a repair. But with ash smeared across his face, Val looked like he had stepped out of one of Friday’s worst days. She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes, and grit her teeth to hold them back, feeling lost.
“It’s for work,” Friday said, finally. She paused. She wanted to touch his face, to wipe the grime away with a sponge like she had done back at the Ace while the fire was spreading - what seemed like a lifetime ago. It had helped then, being able to do something. With Val awake, she didn’t quite dare.
“What happened to you?” she asked, uneasily.
Val shook his head. “It’ll sound worse than it was. It’s okay. I was, um, foggy for the whole thing.”
Now he looked as uneasy as she felt. Friday had blown up at him when he’d left this morning, after all.
“You’re not going to tell me?” Friday said, trying not to sound upset. She was going to add, “You got hurt,” but found that she couldn’t.
Johannes’s voice cut through the conversation before Val had a chance to reply.
“Pack it in,” he hollered to the crowd that had gathered. “The show’s cancelled. We leave in an hour.”
“We already started setting up,” Ezra snapped. “We can’t strike in just an hour. If you had told us - ”
“If I’d known earlier, I would’ve told you,” Johannes snapped back at him. “We have to move. Soon. Now.”
Ezra argued, but Friday didn’t catch his reply in the clamor from the rest of the circus. Her attention fell back on Val. She felt so angry, and so stupid. She’d let Johannes bully Val into going off alone with him, when she’d known Johannes wasn’t someone to be trusted. Now something had happened that was so awful Val didn’t even want to tell her. He looked nervously past her, and Friday wasn’t convinced it was just her outfit that had him acting so cagey.
“If I tell you, you won’t be happy,” Val said slowly.
“I’m already not happy,” Friday said, then clenched her teeth, trying to reign herself in.
“Okay, enough chit-chat,” Johannes said, suddenly in the middle of their conversation. “Ketsele, you’re with me for first aid and an emergency haircut. Friday…” He waved a hand dismissively. “Go do what Ezra tells you. Some of us were burned at the stake today.”
Johannes had begun to steer Val away, though Val shrugged out from under his arm. Friday saw red. She reached out and yanked a handful of tassels on the back of Johannes’s jacket as hard as she could, throwing him off balance and forcing him to turn back.
“What?” he yelled.
“I don’t know what happened,” she threw back. “But I know it was your fault, and I’d like to see a little remorse.”
Johannes raised his eyebrows.
“You two are very similar,” he said to Val, straightening his lapels.
“Friday - ” Val began.
“No!” Friday yelled. “I will not let it slide, and I will not accept that it ‘wasn’t that bad.’ Even if you don’t tell me. I know it was bad.” It was so bad you’re shutting me out, she thought. “Val, please. He’s not good.”
“I didn’t burn him at the stake,” Johannes argued. “What the hell did I do to you?”
Nothing, yet. Friday ignored him, looking at Val instead. He left Johannes’s side, coming to stand closer to her. She was overpowered by the smell of the ocean, sweat, and ash.
“I know how it sounds,” he said quietly. “But Johannes saved my life. I trust him.”
“I know you trust him,” Friday said, frustrated. Her eyes stung, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the smoke on Val’s clothes, or if she was about to cry. “I’m trying to tell you...he’s a con artist, okay? I know he’s grifting. I just...can’t see the big picture yet.”
Val shook his head. “Look, I have to…”
Friday grabbed the end of his sleeve.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I got singed,” Val said, with surprising humor. “Really nothing new.”
Friday nodded, and bit her lip. She wanted to hug him, but Val was already pulling away.
He smiled at her, then turned to Johannes, following the ringmaster’s lead across the camp. Johannes tried to put his arm around Val again, but Val ducked away. Friday watched him push Johannes’s head down like some rowdy kid, then fold his hands behind his back as if he hadn’t.
“You better watch it,” Johannes said, laughing. “I’m about to cut your hair.”
Friday slowly breathed out. The crowd had scattered at the announcement that everything had to be packed in an hour. The only still bodies were three she knew: Ezra, John, and the mechanic, Enis. Ezra and Enis were talking, clearly working through a problem. John was staring right at Friday.
She thought he must be staring at something behind her until he caught her eye and looked away.
“I’m gonna go change,” Friday muttered to no one.
12.12 || 12.14
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oh! darling ; john x reader
request: john lennon smut!
a/n: i’ve been having like two of those mini magnum ice creams per day and i want more!!!! also i have a party tomorrow so i won’t be able to write (i think). also, when requesting feel free to add as much or as little as you want AND I DO SHIPS
pairing: john lennon x shy!reader
summary: you have to be quick and quiet before John’s performance.
warnings: sex? oral, male receiving, slight fingering, hair pulling, coming in someone's mouth?
word count: 973
“You’re on in 15 minutes John,” you said while fixing his collar.
“I’ll be quick.” John cupped your chin and looked into your eyes. You wanted to give in, so badly, but you didn’t want to get caught or get him in trouble. After debating it with yourself you made up your mind.
“Okay Johnny, but be quick, alright?” He smiled, picked you up and spun you around while kissing you. “I don’t want to get you in trouble,” you added once he set you down. John nodded before rushing to a small, empty room that seemed to be a broom cupboard.
As soon as the door closed you two had your lips attached to the others. His hands roamed your body and ended up on your bum. John pressed you against the door and started attacking your body. You quietly moaned, with one hand you covered your mouth and your free hand went to his hair, tugging it slightly.
“Quick.” you reminded him when he took too long kissing your neck. You didn’t want it to be quick, you wanted him to take his time so you could pleasure each other.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay woman.” he joked before rolling up your skirt. “Already so wet...” John muttered as his fingers ghosted over your lips. “For me?” he added and looked at you through his hair, his head was still facing down.
“No Johnny, for Ringo.” you joked. John shook his head and kissed you before he inserted a digit inside of you. You moaned lightly into the kiss making him grin and pump it in and out. Once he felt your walls clench he pulled out and, while containing eye contact, he licked his fingers clean.
“John!” you whined.
“Keep quiet love, don’t want anyone to hear us now do you?” John teased and laughed gently when you pouted.
“Don’t be such a tease.” you scolded as he went to unbuckle his trousers. You swatted his hand away and did it yourself earning an ‘okay-then’ look from him. You pulled his boxers down and watched as his cock sprang out.
“So hard already...” you teased just as he had to you before, you took his into your hand and started pumping him. “For me?” you gave him the same look he had given you.
“No Y/N, for Ringo,” he repeated making you giggle. After a couple pumps, he took his cock into his own hand and with no warning he thrust into you. You drowned your squeal and gently bit his shoulder. “Don’t go leaving hickeys, love. Brian will have my head.”
“Shut up Lennon and move!” you managed to say. After a soft chuckled he did just as you said. It was slow moves at first, he knew each time you had to get used to him, but then he began speeding up until he was pounding into you as quietly as he could.
But it was quiet enough, you knew anyone who passed by this corridor would be able to hear your whimpers, the sound of skin on skin and the sounds of him pressing you against the wall. His hand wrapped around your neck making you moan, you loved it when he got all dominant. Which, to be honest, was always.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up earning him a deeper angle to thrust into you. Every time he hit your g-spot you let out a strained moan. Your fingers were digging at his back, you were sure you were leaving marks. And so was he, he was supporting you by grabbing your ass so you wouldn’t fall down.
John’s hand moved down to your clit and with his thumb, he began rubbing circles onto your sensitive area. You let out yet another stifled moan making him grin and go faster.
Slowly, his moves became sloppier and your walls clenched around him making him groan. “Fuck, you feel so good around me baby.” he praised as he carried you through your orgasm. When he was close he pulled out of you and you went down on your knees to finish him off.
You put his cock into your mouth and started bobbing your head at a steady beat. This time he was against the door, he rested his head against it and grabbed a fistful of your hair making you groan. The vibrations made his dick twitch in your mouth.t
With your hand, you began pumping what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth. It didn’t much more for him to come into your mouth. You successfully swallowed most of it and pulled away. As quickly as you could you both cleaned up and you attempted to make your hair somewhat okay.
In the end, you pulled your hair into a ponytail and walked out hand-in-hand. “There you are Lennon!” exclaimed Paul as soon as you two walked into the busy backstage area.
He turned to you and immediately turned back to his friend with wide eyes. Paul rubbed the side of his mouth signalling John that he had something there. You turned to your boyfriend but there was nothing there.
And that’s when it hit you, it was on your face. Your eyes went wide, wider than Pauls had, you spun around to John and he quickly rubbed it off. You hid your head in his chest and he wrapped two arms around you and chuckled.
“Not funny,” you muttered but the could barely hear you considering your face was covered. You heard Paul laugh and leave to get his bass. You pulled away and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. “Go, kill it!” you said as you pushed him away.
He smiled and ran on stage with his guitar. The crowd went wild, you watched from the side. Occasionally he would turn to you and throw a wink at you. You would smile back and blush.
#John Lennon#john lennon smut#john lennon imagine#john lennon x reader#john lennon fluff#john lennon boyfriend#john lennon fic#the beatles headcanon#the beatles#the beatles x reader#the beatles fluff#the beatles prompts
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An Interview with John Lurie
Whilst most humanoids struggle to master even one useful skill in life, John Lurie is one of those adept rapscallions who can seemingly turn their hand to pretty much anything — from acting to angling.
This knack has led to a fairly stacked C.V. which involves such notable achievements as forming a rule-flouting jazz band called The Lounge Lizards, appearing in films like Down by Law, Paris, Texas and Wild at Heart and showing his paintings in exhibitions all over the planet.
And if all that wasn’t enough, he’s also hosted his own fishing show, and, with the help of Dennis Hopper, once came particularly close to snagging the elusive giant squid.
Here’s what he had to say about fishing, New York in the '70s and the importance of humour in the world...
First question… your television programme Fishing with John is mint. How did that come about?
I was threatening to do it for a long time, but wasn’t really serious. I would go fishing with Willem and we would video tape it. I flew out one New Year’s Eve to play with Tom Waits and the next day we went and fished with Stephen Torton video taping it.
This woman, Debra Brown, saw the tapes, home movies actually, and brought them to a Japanese company that was looking to get involved in things in New York.
She came back to me and said they wanted to make a pilot. I believe my response was, "Are you kidding?"
When you watch a film or television program, you only see the end result. What was it like filming that thing? Were there any mad struggles?
If you see something good, you can just assume there were mad struggles. If you see something bad, you can assume that people were too lazy to take on the mad struggles.
If I am flicking through the channels looking for a movie, I can tell you in five seconds if a movie is going to be any good by the sound of the door closing or the light or the music or whatever.
Why do you think people love fishing so much?
First off, so we can go to these beautiful places and pretend to be doing something. We wouldn’t go if there were nothing to do. And there is that visceral thing. A big fish on the line is like that exhilarating sports thing, like hitting a baseball perfectly or shooting a basket and the net just goes swish.
And then there is that thing of the world of mystery, right next to the world we are living in. What is in there? We are only going to be aware of what is there with a hook and a nylon string.
So of course we have to drag this amazing creature out of the water and kill it because human beings are pretty much ridiculous. The last bit is not why we love fishing, it’s just an observation.
I’d say it’s a pretty sharp observation. Did you ever face anger from the fishing community due to the lack of more conventional fishing?
Yes.
Why isn’t more television like Fishing with John? I hear we’re supposedly in the age of ‘peak TV’ or whatever, but why is there so much boring stuff out there?
The great thing about this, and a big shout out to Kenji Okabe from Telecom Japan, was they left me alone. I am fairly certain that the reason Breaking Bad was so great was because they left Vince Gilligan alone.
With most projects there are all these people meddling with what you do, to ruin it. The Gatekeepers. It is almost like there is a conspiracy to maintain mediocrity.
Going back a bit now, am I right in saying you’re from Minneapolis originally. What were you into as a child?
At first, dinosaurs and archeology. Then reptiles, particularly snakes after we moved to New Orleans. I was going to open my own snake farm. Then I was pretty sure one day, I would play center field for the Yankees.
An attainable dream. You moved to New York in the late 70s, and not long after, you started The Lounge Lizards. It seems like New York at that time is glamourized a bit now, but what was it like for you? What food did you eat? Where did you go at night? What streets were good to walk down? What did it smell like?
I was trying to remember the food I ate back then and couldn’t remember. I was pretty broke most of the time. They used to serve hors d’oevres at gallery openings and cheese became a large part of my regular diet.
Almost every night, or maybe not even “almost” — more like every night — we went to the Mudd Club. More than what streets were “good” to walk down, I can tell you which streets were bad to go down. I lived on East Third St across from the Men’s Shelter, so my block smelled of rotting garbage and urine.
What are some bits that people don’t talk about from that time? What sucked about back then?
It went fairly quickly from people having more relentless fun than any period in human history to a fairly grim time, a year or two later. There was the beginning of AIDs. I had many friends who were dying or horrifyingly sick. People were getting strung out. There were many deaths. Car accidents. People fell out of windows.
Also, with the artistic promise that was there, the output is disappointing. I suppose the wildness led to a lack of discipline and the work wasn’t nearly as good as it should have been.
I might be wrong, but it seems like at that time people just did what they felt like doing… people made films, music or anything else, with no regard for budget. I suppose for example, you made a film called Men in Orbit in your apartment for $500. Where did this freedom come from?
The freedom came from a ferocious demand to have that freedom at any cost. But it is odd or sad, because the more talented of those people seem to have gone unknown and the people who are now household names are, mostly, the ones who played the game by the rules from the beginning.
Do you think people nowadays get too hung up on money? Or perhaps too hung up on success?
I think people nowadays for the most part are quite lost and afraid. So they do whatever they think they must do to have a successful career, even if it means that they are making shit — and it usually does mean they are making shit.
The Lounge Lizard’s album, Voice of Chunk is an amazing record. What sort of stuff were you listening to when you made that? And who is Bob the Bob?
The listening came from earlier in my life. Evan and I would devour everything. From Stravinsky to Monk to Little Walter to Coltrane to Tibetan music to Ellington to Dolphy to Pigmy music (you get the idea).
Later, when working on my own stuff, I stopped listening to pretty much everything. Though when I was in Morocco doing Last Temptation, I played a lot with Gnawa musicians that shifted me a bit. And around that time Evan discovered Piazzolla.
Bob the Bob is Kazu from Blonde Redhead. That is her mouth on the cover of the record. I still call her Bob.
You’re a prolific painter. Are there certain things that you notice recurring in your paintings?
I live on a small Caribbean island. There are flowers everywhere. I don’t like to think that they influence what I paint but they do. Fucking flowers.
A lot of people paint when they’re young, then stop. Why do you think that is? How come you didn’t stop?
The best paintings I have seen in the last 30 years or so are the ones taped to refrigerators. I don’t know why people stop painting or when they don't stop, why the painting gets so stiff.
I am sure my mother, who painted herself and taught art in Liverpool where the Beatles went, but not at the same time, had something to do with me keeping a freedom in my work. To not be afraid of that childlike dream thing.
Though it has been suggested that it may be time for me to get in touch with my “inner adult.”
How do you know when a painting is finished?
I ask Nesrin. If she says it is finished, I know it isn’t.
You seem like a pretty funny guy. Do you think humour is sometimes underrated? Do people take stuff too seriously sometime?
I think humor is immensely important. I think humor can shift society’s consciousness in a better way than almost anything else. So from Shakespeare to Mark Twain to Lenny Bruce to Richard Pryor and many more - these people shifted things for the better.
Do you know who was president when Mark Twain was at his peak? Benjamin Harrison. Who the fuck was Benjamin Harrison?
What are your thoughts on the internet? It seems like it’s a big thing these days.
I get so disappointed with people because I feel like social media could be an enormously positive thing for the world. And I certainly don’t mean to exclude humor, just I have heard enough fart jokes for one lifetime…
Something that bothers me quite a bit, is a star athlete gets hurt and then the response on places like twitter is close to joy. What kind of bitterness about your own life would make you behave like that?
You’ve just recently released a new Marvin Pontiac album after 17 years. This one is called The Asylum Tapes, and was reportedly made on a four track recorder in a mental institution. Back story aside, what made you want to make an album again?
I have Advanced Lyme, so I was unable to play anything for a long time. Actually because of what was happening to me neurologically, I couldn’t even hear music for the first few years — it was more like fingernails on a blackboard.
As I slowly got better, I was able to play guitar and harmonica again, though playing saxophone would seem to be done for me in this life.
But I am very proud of this album and hope people get a chance to hear it. I made it to cheer people up.
Are people still confused about who Marvin Pontiac is?
I suppose so. He is a character I created to make this music. I suppose that is bad marketing, but fuck it.
Would the album be different if it was a John Lurie album? Do you feel like you can get away with more stuff as Marvin Pontiac? Or maybe what I mean is, is it easier to say some things as Marvin Pontiac?
Yes, absolutely. Marvin gives me a certain freedom. I doubt I would put out a record where I sing about a bear saying, “Smell my sandwich.” But I’m happy that I get a chance to do that.
The lyrics are pretty straight up and direct. Do you sit and stew on songs and ideas for long, or do you just get it out?
Often they just come straight up. Like 'My Bear To Cross' I pretty much just came up with it live in the studio. Some took quite a while. And there are a couple where I never found the right lyrics to finish off a song and put them aside.
Okay, last question… do you think a lot of stuff is too over-thought and over-prepared? Does thinking sometimes get in the way?
Let me think about that.
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Lol yes specific recs are good idk where to start
You either came to the wrong or right person. This is a lot. HONESTLY, one of the cool things about Skinny Puppy is literally all of their albums are very very different and they have a huge range of styles and a million ways you can get into them from all sorts of directions. They have a very long history and extensive discography and endless connections and collaborations and associations so you can come at them from a million angles.
Here’s a list of the main albums chronologically. The band’s lineup has changed a little due to band members leaving or dying but Ogre and cEvin have always been members. For more specific recommendations I’m also including their arguably most popular song from each album (veteran fans might wanna dispute me on some of ‘em cuz I think there are a few toss ups but I tried my best to pick the most iconic) if you just want that basic of an overview, although I definitely recommend delving deeper.
Remission (1984) - Their very first album on a label. Sounds like synthpop with baby Ogre vocals (Ogre doesn’t learn to sing until the 90s and just sings in a way where he screams and tears his vocal chords up). Kind of simpler music, sounds a lot like Cabaret Voltaire. Not as uniquely experimental yet maybe. Really dancey and fun a lot of the time. Ogre, cEvin, and Bill Leeb as musicians. Song suggestion: Smothered Hope
Bites (1985) - Their first full length album. Kinda an evolved version of Remission’s goth synth electronic stuff but still definitely experimental and cool new sounds being thrown around. Ogre, cEvin, and Bill Leeb as musicians again. Tom Ellard from Severed Heads and Edward Ka-Spel from Legendary Pink Dots (who forms The Tear Garden with cEvin) contribute. Song suggestion: Assimilate
Mind: The Perpetual Intercourse (1986) - Their first full length album after the lineup changes and Dwayne Goettel replaces Bill Leeb, who goes off to form Front Line Assembly. Dwayne adds another layer of complex experimental sound and noise to the band. More experimental and abrasive in sound. A little less dancey maybe. Song suggestion: Dig It
Cleanse Fold and Manipulate (1987) - Their second album with the Ogre/cEvin/Duck lineup. Evolution of the M:TPI sound. I definitely group these two together in my mind, they overlap a lot with the directions of the experimental electronic noises they’re going in. Song suggestion: Deep Down Trauma Hounds
VIVIsectVI (1988) - Slight change in direction, this album sounds much more chaotic, abrasive, and experimental imo. Darker album for sure with more ambient tracks and harsher sounds. Same lineup as before. Heavy focus on any vivisection, war, and other social inequality. Song suggestion: Testure
Rabies (1989) - Industrial metal. Al Jourgensen from Ministry joined the lineup because Ogre wanted to male bond with him. It has a ton of electric guitar and screaming. Way angrier and more aggressive music. Song suggestion: Warlock
Too Dark Park (1990) - Really intense, noise-heavy, complex experimental stuff. Al Jourgensen is gone and we revert back to something along the VIVIsectVI trajectory but way more intense with a ton of layers to the sound. Lots of themes of environmental degradation. Ogre/cEv/Dwayne lineup. Song suggestion: Spasmolytic
Last Rights (1992) - Too Dark Park x2. Even more experimental and abrasive and harsh; really dark content, really sad, lots of personal themes surrounding Ogre’s battle with drug addiction. Song suggestion: Killing Game
The Process (1996) - 90s industrial rock-y. Simpler in sound than the complex noise layers in TDP/LR era, with less chaotic experimental sound and more rock noise like guitars. Ogre is doing some early singing and more untreated vocals. This is the last album with Ogre/cEv/Dwayne as the lineup, and Dwayne passes before the album is even released. Song suggestion: Death
Greater Wrong of the Right (2004) - First album with the new (current) lineup where Dwayne Goettel is replaced by Mark Walk. Ogre has learned to sing in a way that doesn’t damage his voice; the music is more electronic and dancey than before, has obvious overlap in sound from the band ohGr that formed between The Process and GWOTR, less heavy noise and more focus on slightly cleaner electronic sound. Song suggestion: Pro-Test
Mythmaker (2007) - Same lineup as before; very fast paced album, with a lot of vocal distortion and treatment to Ogre’s new singing vocals. Very electronic, very dancey. Song suggestion: politikiL
HanDover (2011) - A little more noise based, with interesting recurring sounds and some more experimental noises. Very melodic electronic music. This album always feels very dreamlike to me. Song suggestion: Cullorblind
Weapon (2013) - Some people consider this sort of a throwback album, the music is a little more abrasive and “messy” than the last few albums while still retaining a lot of the more recent cleaner electronic sounds and staples from the previous few albums. They actually cover a song off of Bites and give it a new revamped version. Song suggestion: illisiT
I don’t think I could ever order these from most to least favorite or anything, but I will say that Greater Wrong of the Right tends to stand out as my top favorite... I really truly absolutely love it all though.
Aside from these albums, there’s three live albums (Ain’t It Dead Yet? in ‘87, Doomsday in 2000, andBootlegged, Broke, and In Solvent Seas from 2010), there’s Back & Forth which was their original debut demo EP from 1984, and there’s the subsequent Back & Forth series which includes lots of demos and outtakes and stuff. There’s also Puppy Gristle, which was a collaboration Skinny Puppy did with Genesis P-Orridge of Throbbing Gristle, and it’s just a really long experimental jam session. There’s also Remix Dystemper which is a remix album from 1998. These are all also really good, but I would probably recommend their main albums first :]
As you can see, the industrial community is super close knit and every band has a ton of overlap and if you just start with one band it’s really easy to get swept up in all the others!!
Cabaret Voltaire is a great band to check out if you wanna hear one of Skinny Puppy’s big inspirations.
Throbbing Gristle is an inevitable inspiration since they straight up invented industrial music and they ended up collaborating like I just mentioned too
Severed Heads is also great to hear their inspiration and the music from one of their collaborators
Legendary Pink Dots as well, and you can listen to Tear Garden to hear Ka-Spel’s collaborations with cEvin Key.
cEvin also has solo music, as well as music with Hilt, PlatEAU, and Download. Phil Western collaborated with him in these a lot, and Dwayne Geottel, before both of their deaths.
Dwayne also has a few solo songs released as aDuck.
Ogre is the frontman of ohGr alongside Mark Walk, which has five albums out since 2001 and is fucking fantastic. They just released a new album last year in June and it’s so good.
He also collaborated with Al Jourgensen from Ministry and helped write some of their music for the album Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste, and he does the vocals on “Get Down” from the Revolting Cocks and “Show Me Your Spine” for PTP (two of Al’s other projects).
AND he collaborated with Martin Atkins and does a few songs for the band Pigface and together they released the album Bedside Toxicology as RX.
Ogre and Bill Leeb were in a short-lived project together called Muteual Mortuary. Also, Bill Leeb’s band Front Line Assembly is really good.
Ogre has done a lot of one-off collaborations and projects, like writing “Ode to Groovie” for the In Defense of Animals compilation album, a Madonna cover for a Madonna compilation album, working with KMFDM on their albums Symbols and Adios, Paul Barker on his Fix This!!! album, and with Bill Rieflin as The Petty Tyrants.
He’s also done music for the Descent II OST, remixes for John Carpenter, and since he’s been in some musicals he’s also featured on the Repo! the Genetic Opera, Devil’s Carnival, and Alleluia: The Devil’s Carnival soundtracks.
Dave Rave Ogilvie (their sound engineer/producer until 2004) mixed Carly Rae Jepsen’s “Call Me Maybe.”
Yeah :) Good luck :)
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Redemption - Distant: Pt 2 (Javier X Reader)
Note: Here it is, the second and final part of Distant. Enjoy!
Category: angst and fluff
Warnings: none
Word count: 3225
When the van der Linde gang finally dissipated 8 years ago, you’d figured you’d never see any of your brothers in arms again. You’d set off on your own after Beaver Hollow; leaving behind the painful, bitter end in search for a new beginning. But it would seem that God – in spite of everything he’d thrown at you in those years – was not happy with that ending after all. So he gave you one last chance at staying with your family. A chance that came in the form of the Marstons.
Of course, it hasn’t just been the Marstons that you’ve been living with these past few months. There’s also Charles Smith and to everyone’s misfortune – Uncle. You even see Sadie Adler from time to time; living, breathing proof that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
But there was one person in particular that God was seemingly not ready for you to give up on. Someone who you’d thought undeserving of another chance after all the ones you’d given him before.
Javier Escuella.
He’d approached you in Blackwater as you and Charles had shopped for groceries – an activity that may seem mundane and dull to the average person, but one that is a welcomed change of pace to someone who had spent so many miserable days under the thumb of Dutch and the many thousands of dollars that keeping his company had placed on your head.
You hadn’t believed Javier was real at first. He’d appeared to you so many times in the years since Beaver Hollow. He’d appeared in the reflection of shop windows, in the faces of strangers on the street, and the breeze had carried his name as whispers wherever you went with no escape from the torment. It took years for you to hear the strum of a guitar and not immediately associate it with him. He’d been running through your dreams each and every night, calling your name and leaving you to chase after him in panicked tears until you were ripped from your sleep by Charles or Abigail. The concern on their faces as they observed you shaking and sweating and sobbing never lessened in intensity. But neither did the dreams. Nor the gaping hole that Javier’s absence had left in your soul.
So then you could be excused for not believing that the familiar yet not familiar face of Javier was real, right? He didn’t seem to think so. He’d followed you out of that general store like a snarling wolf chasing down a whitetail and had you not felt the security from Charles’ presence, you’d have likely ran for the hills in a desperate attempt to get away from Javier; the man you’d once trusted with every aspect of your life. After all, the man he’d been in the days of Beaver Hollow was a frightening one, capable of frightening things. And who was to say he hadn’t sunk any lower since then? For all you knew, he’d come to Blackwater to kill you.
Reluctantly, John had allowed Javier to stay at Beecher's Hope with the rest of you. He was always one of the nicest of Dutch’s Boys – despite his outward behaviour being that of a rotten criminal – and he’d always had a soft spot for Javier; his former brother. Javier had promised to keep away from the group as much as possible, helping out around the ranch in exchange for shelter and the opportunity to make things right. But you weren’t sure. None of you were.
And so here you are. You walk into the Marstons’ barn and find yourself met with a troubling sight. Javier stands before a rearing stallion that seems to want Javier here just as little as everyone else does. Javier raises his hand in an attempt to soothe the stallion whilst holding a crate of empty bottles in the other hand. The whole situation is precarious to say the least and you watch it unfold before you with widened eyes.
“I guess I lost my touch,” Javier chuckles, stepping towards the stallion. “I haven’t had a stallion since Boaz – woah!” The horse rears again and crashes down with a thud before ramming open the gate of its pen, knocking Javier and his crate of empty bottles to the ground. It all happens in slow motion from where you’re stood – the gate crashing into the crate of bottles and the crate being shunted into the bridge of Javier’s nose – but despite the animosity you feel towards him and your promise to John to keep that horse looked after and stabled, you find yourself running straight to Javier’s aid and letting the stallion fly from the stable and into the open land outside.
“Jesus Christ, what are you doing?” you gasp, falling to your knees next to where Javier lays, pinching his nose with his fingers as it spews blood.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assures you, sitting upright. “Unlike those bottles.” He begins chuckling as he gazes at the smashed bottles and you breathe a sigh of relief and quietly thank the heavens that he’s okay.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed one of these days,” you giggle, pulling his hand away from his nose and using his chin to angle him so as to get a better look of his injury. It takes a few moments for you to realise who you’re talking to and that crushing feeling you’d felt so many times in that damn dirty cave returns; your laughter trailing off as your face drops. “You should be more careful,” you tell him, coldly enough to bring about a chill. You climb to your feet and head for the barn door, leaving Javier on the floor, using the back of his hand to smear blood across his face.
“Y/N, wait, we should talk,” he calls after you. “Just talk to me… please… mi amor –“
“Don’t,” you spit, whipping around on your heels and pointing your finger at him; your cheeks burning as hot as your glare. “Don’t call me that.”
There was a time in Beaver Hollow where you longed for him to speak those words to you, but now, it’s more of an insult than a term of endearment. You are not his love. You haven’t been for many years. And to hear those words in reference to you now, after everything, is nothing short of agonising. So many words had left his lips in the last few months you’d spent together in that wretched camp – some of them bitter, some of them cruel, some of them cold. But none of them loving. And you’re not sure if the loving Javier is welcomed anymore. He’d had his chance to change back to that, time and time again. You waited and waited and waited and he never did. You’d since learned to live with the idea that the man you’d loved had perhaps died in Guarma. And now he’s decided you’re worth changing for?
“I’m sorry,” he says, raising his hands in a display of surrender. “It’s just habit.”
Just like that, the yearning feeling that you’ve felt for him every day since you’d met him has returned. That nasty, troublesome feeling that whirls in your chest and travels down the length of your arms. The desire to rush forward and throw your arms around him as he climbs to his feet is so overwhelming that it’s physically painful and you find your arms twitching as you think of what it would feel like to hold him within them once more. He stands at the other end of this barn – smartly dressed and smiling apologetically with blood trickling over his lips and dripping from his chin – and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted him so desperately.
“Yeah, well unlearn that habit,” you tell him angrily before leaving the barn.
You storm across the field outside with your hand covering your mouth, holding in sobs of agony that linger in your throat, waiting for their chance to escape. You rush up the front steps of the house and push your way in and as you freely allow the tears to fall – every inch of your abdomen aching as the sadness consumes you – you can’t help but think you’d have been better off chasing after the stallion.
It's dawn and you’ve long since risen and made your way out to the fence that marks the boundary of Beecher’s Hope, where the sun rises fast over the hills and bathes the ranch in a golden glow.
You’ve been avoiding Javier completely for the last few days – the incident in the barn being something to add the the long list of things you don’t want to repeat. It’s been a lot easier to avoid him than you thought it would be – physically at least. There’s a lot of land here to spread your self across and between running errands in Blackwater, tending to the horses, and dealing with The Skinner Brothers, you’ve found yourself too preoccupied to even bump into Javier in passing. Not for lack of trying on his part though, of course. If you weren’t still feeling the sting of the scars he’d left on the soft tissue inside your rib cage, you’d find it endearing; the way he gazes longingly at you from across the field as he carries bales of hay or the way he watches you with a smile as you laugh and joke with Charles. You suppose there’s something to be found in the fact that he’s so happy to see you enjoying yourself, even without him being a part of it. After all, he’d been so disinterested in your happiness 8 years ago, so that small subconscious smile that you’d caught him with as he watched you enjoy time around the campfire is a marked change from the man before.
You lean forward against the fence, watching the sun rise towards its position high above the earth and as you breathe in the fresh morning air, the dried grass crunches underneath carefully trodden footsteps behind you. You know who it is, but you look over your shoulder at him anyway.
“You used to like sunrises,” you state as Javier stands next to you and puts his foot up on the lower rung of the fence.
“So did you,” he says softly.
“Only because you did.” You take a beat. “You still like ‘em?” you ask him.
He nods his head, looking forward at the orange haze that creeps over the hills as the morning fog catches the light of the sun and carries it. “Yes,” he answers. “I came out here to watch it. I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“Well, here I am,” you tell him, keeping your eyes fixed on the sunrise ahead of you.
“Here you are,” Javier echoes.
The moment’s pass – one after the other ticking by as the two of you stand in the most comfortable silence you’ve had with him in a long time. He’s stood close to you and you can feel his aura filling the small space between the two of you and you can’t stop your mind from wandering down the all-too-familiar path of dangerous thoughts; all regarding Javier. The ideas of him lining each side of the path and pricking you with their thorns each time you’re naïve enough to reach out to them. You know this path has never lead you anywhere else other than the dead end of heartbreak and desperation, but again and again, you travel the length of it and end up neck deep in the pain that waits for you at the end.
You can feel his warmth radiating from him and it stirs up all kinds of feelings within you that you’re growing so tired of fighting against.
“You must know that I didn’t want any of it,” Javier states, his voice plucking you from your imagination as always.
“Any of what?” you ask him, turning your head to look at him and holding him in your gaze for longer than you have since his return.
“The arguments, the fighting. All the bitterness between everyone. That’s not what I wanted. I don’t know, maybe I know now, – in hindsight – that it’s what Micah wanted. But me… I wanted… well…” he sighs.
“What did you want?” you prompt him quietly; part of you hoping that it was too quiet for him to hear and that you won’t have to hear the answer to a question that you’re afraid of.
“I wanted things to stay the same as they were before things got crazy. I wanted my family to stay together and I wanted to keep hoping that Dutch would get us out of it, like he always had. I guess at the end of the day, I wanted us all to be happy and I was scared because a part of me – deep down inside myself – knew that we wouldn’t be.”
“And are we happy now?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs, turning his head to meet your gaze. “You tell me.”
You falter, bowing your head involuntarily for just a moment. Because as much as you so desperately want to tell him all the ways in which he’s making you feel right now – the way he completely and utterly owns every part of you – you don’t know how to answer his question. You don’t know if you’re happy and you don’t know if any of you ever were, nor if you ever will be. You look out upon this ranch with it’s open fields and picket fence and you’re unsure of how long it will last. If the Marstons or Charles or Uncle or you will ever find the peace and quiet that you’re hoping for. But you do know that Javier – despite every bitter word and uncaring fuck in that God-forsaken hellhole of a cave – to this day, makes you feel okay. And maybe after the lives that the two of you have lived. After all the misery and death and depravity. Well, maybe okay is enough.
The silence you give Javier might be an answer in and of itself, but he doesn’t seem to mind it. The sun has almost fully risen and the sky is no longer orange; instead sporting a soft blue colour that compliments the yellow tones of the sun. Javier gently places his hand over the top of yours as you hold onto the fence and you turn your palm upwards, gazing at his hand as you allow him to interlock his fingers with yours. You both look down at your hands, watching them as though they have a mind of their own as they twist and turn and caress each other’s fingertips. His hand is warm and dry and callused and feels exactly the same as you remember it and you wonder if Javier is remembering you in the same way that you’re remembering him.
Then you have your answer.
He tugs at your hand and you find yourself moving with him as he pulls you into a long-awaited hug. 8 years worth of hatred, guilt, sorrow, tension, grief – all melt away under his embrace and he holds you tightly, stroking your hair softly as you cry into his shoulder. He tucks his chin in and plants a kiss on your neck before pulling away and using his thumbs to wipe your tears away.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you with the utmost sincerity in his glossy brown eyes as he cups your face.
“I know, you sniffle.”
“I was such a damn fool.”
“I know that, too,” you smile, your eyes still blurry with tears.
“Ay,” he chuckles, pulling you back in against his chest. “You always were the most honest of us, mi amor,” he says, kissing the top of your head.
Bonus:
You wake peacefully in the arms of Javier, your naked bodies tangled in the sheets that the two of you had laid across the floor of the barn. Last night was the first night you’d spent together in years – the first happy on in even longer – and you wake up this morning feeling complete again and having had an entire night free from the tormenting shadows that usually dance around the forefront of your mind.
Javier is already awake when you lift your head up to look at him – your hand resting on his bare chest and rising and falling with each of his smooth, relaxed breaths.
“You slept well,” he says with a yawn.
“Did you?”
“No.” He smiles down at you and you tilt your head in confusion as to why he’d be happy about such a thing.
“Why not?” you ask, watching him through blurry eyes; your eyelids weighed down with sleepy.
“I spent most of the night looking at you,” he confesses, tracing his fingertips in circles on the skin of your shoulder as he holds you tight. “I got it into my head that none of this was real,” he explains. “Or that you’d disappear if I closed my eyes for too long.”
You push yourself up onto your hands and plant a delicate kiss onto his cheek. “Does that feel real enough?” you smile before following it with a kiss to his lips. “What about that one?”
You deliver kiss after kiss until Javier can’t take it anymore, pushing you away with a soft chuckle. “Si, you were always good at waking me up in the morning.”
“Yeah, except your face was never the part of you that I had my lips pressed to.”
“No, it wasn’t,” he grins.
“I’m glad you found me,” you tell him, turning the light, easy atmosphere into a more sincere but no less content one.
“Me too,” he agrees. “I was looking for you all those years, you know. Since the standoff at Beaver Hollow. I had a few leads for a while, but they turned out to be nothing. I didn’t think I’d find you, but I kept looking.” He pushes some hair out of your face and his fingertips trail gently down the side of your face; following your jawline until they reach your chin. “I thought you were gone,” he says quietly. “I thought I’d gone and messed everything up, irreparably.”
You lean into his touch, looking at him through soft, adoring eyes as he drags the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. You don’t say a word to him – there’s nothing left to be said – instead, you lay your head down on his chest and enjoy the moment. Nothing matters to you more than this and you want him to know that.
You have loved this man so dearly and unwaveringly from the day you met him and every day after that until this one. The things he did and said 8 years ago don’t hold any weight anymore and the more you think about the years between then and now, the less you care about them. You’d been stuck in Beaver Hollow for all of these years, replaying that era over and over again because a part of you had hoped that you might get a different outcome. Well, here it is. Your happy ending.
You’d once said to yourself that you could stay with Javier for eternity if the universe would allow it. And now – with the morning sun filtering through the cracks in the barn door and nothing else to do but enjoy this very moment – you can.
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#javier escuella#javier escuella x reader#my writing#writing: javier escuella
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My top 3 most powerful Supernatrual scenes
So, I got the idea to write this thanks to a friendly chat on this site, but there are some super incredible scenes in Supernatural. There are a lot that come to mind when I think of different things, almost all of Yellow Feaver and Clap if you believe when I think about comedy; a list of episodes when I think of loss, and a even a few when I think of the characters being happy. But there are also some I think of when I just think of power or impact, so my top three list!
Number 3: Dean talking to Sam about closing the gates of Hell/ the angels fall
That moment where Dean is begging Sam not to finish the last trial to close the gates of Hell. Dean has learned that if Sam finishes this trial he will die. The moment Dean learns that he rushes to Sam because he can’t live without Sam. Their whole lives they have only had each other, neither even really met other hunters until they’re dad died.
Sam for his part sees this as his responsibility. Sam wants to go through with it because he can’t let people get hurt but more importantly he believes if he doesn’t finish this, he will let Dean down again. Sam genuinely believes he has let Dean down so much, the fact he chose Ruby over Dean, the fact he left Dean in Purgatory for a year because he didn’t look for him, to Sam it is all just him letting down Dean over and over again. Sam sees Dean’s relationships in that season as Dean replacing him with people he can ‘trust’ and he can’t bare to see that happen again.
And Dean realizes Sam believes he hates him, that Sam believes he truly let Dean down and isn’t important to him and he knows if he can’t make Sam understand how important he is, he is going to lose Sam for good. Sam is the most important thing in Dean’s life, someone he has killed one of his best friends he ever had over just to ensure Sam made it back safely. And Sam actually caves, understanding and Dean begs him to let it all go, an Sam does. And there's that moment of relief on their faces, they succeeded and no one is about to die.
Then shit hits the fan. Sam goes down as his body starts to fall apart and Dean is terrified. He doesn’t know what to do, and the only thing he can think of is getting them out and getting Sam to some help and as he gets Sam outside he sees all the angels falling, he knows they lost and Cas was tricked, and the worst possible outcome they imagined has just happened. Earth is about to be filled was confused and powerful angles and Sam is in his arms dying and he has no one to turn to because as Sam put it ‘all your friends are dead Dean’, except for Cas who for all Dean knows in this moment could be dead.
Number 2: Fare thee well
I really like this scene because we have two stages to start. We have Dean who is sitting with Sam and he’s realizing that he is the only person that is going to make it out. He sees Sam dying in his arms again, he hears the people in the next room dying, and he knows everyone outside is already dead and gone. Just a few minutes ago he was told he will be the only survivor and now, he understands that. At this point Dean is at his all time low. He knows there is nothing he can do and he’s about to lose everything. At the same time Metatron has finally spoken his peace to God/Chuck. Chuck tells him to read his manuscript, that he’s going to like it as he picks up the guitar and begins to sing.
So we Metatron, whose hope is rising, believing he had an impact to his ‘father’ and friend, that he believes maybe he made a difference, that Chuck is going to save them from Amara and come back to them. His hopes had building this whole time with Chuck beginning to take an interest, to stop hiding and truly show himself.
Then Chuck starts singing, and it’s not some big raging song, but a farewell balled. And as the song goes you see two very different reactions. Dean sees Sam’s pocket start to glow with an amulet that shouldn’t be there, and the boys know what that means. God, a man who they gave up all hope in, was there. And Sam is suddenly healed, and so are the people in the building. And Sam and Dean are trying to process and understand because now people aren’t dying and the amulet is telling them God is there. And they start to go outside, seeing these people who were dead or dying getting up and you can see hope building in the boys.
Meanwhile Metatron is reading the manuscript and you see the hope fall away. Now we as the watchers during the first watch didn’t know what it said, but judging from the situation, the song, and what we know about Chuck in that moment, we can figure it out. This is Chuck saying good bye. He doesn’t plan to make it through this fight, something that paralleled John on his life quest. He wasn’t planning to survive the confrontation with Azazel. So we as the viewers are seeing this stark contrast in the reactions to God’s big return. To the humans he is bringing hope, but to those who know that this is his suicide mission, it brings despair.
And then Sam and Dean see Chuck among the people. Chuck, a man who they were sure was dead because there can’t be two profits at once and we’ve already meet two more since Chuck so surly he is dead. But he’s not, he’s standing in front of them and the amulet is telling them that this guy who they knew as a drunk who wrote shitty paperback books in his underwear is God, and holy shit is he powerful because he just saved and revived and entire town like it was nothing. And he just turns to these two lost and confused boys, boys that up to this point have seen their life so small that there is no way someone like God would even notice they existed, but no God has been writing books about them for years and he just walks up to them saying they need to talk and you can just see the two boys standing there trying to understand what is going on.
1. Dean facing Lucifer and Michael
To me, this is the MOST powerful scene in Supernatural, which makes sense because it was originally supposed to be on of the last. So we have Dean, who at this point has seen everyone, his father figure, his best friend and guardian angel, give up hope. They have all made it clear that there is nothing else that can be done, the world is lost. And Dean has just lost his brothers to these crazy angel that are about to torch the world but Dean isn’t ready to take it lying down. He’s not stupid or crazy enough to believe he actually has a chance to defeat two of the most powerful beings in the world, especially at once, but it isn’t in Dean’s nature to just give up, and worst comes to worst then his brothers aren’t going to go through this alone, because he’s going to be there.
And you got Sam who is trapped inside his own body. He had taken a major gamble, giving Lucifer his body on the chance he could cage him, but Lucifer overpowered him an it didn’t work. And he’s trapped with Lucifer, who is throwing a tantrum, slightly justified but still not necessary to wipe out the world because Daddy put you in time out for a few millennia.
And you have Adam, who until not long ago had no idea any of this existed and to make matters worse he was even dead and at peace until the angels tried to use him as bait for an older brother he had known nothing about. And now, because that brother wouldn’t ‘play his part’ he’s being forced to do it for a man who believes that he is doing the right thing and has the self-righteous attitude to back it up.
So Michael and Lucifer show up on the battlefield, and Sam and Adam can only watch knowing what is about to happen but knowing there is nothing they can do about it, and these two sets of brothers do truly love each other but they have their reasons for being there and the only way out is a fight that is going to destroy half the world and two of them that are standing there. They both express regret, how they don’t want to do this, but they both feel like it is the right thing to do.
And then you just hear ‘Rock of Ages’ blare along with the Impala’s engine. The sound of that engine, especially for Sam and some of the fans has been associated with the cavalry, that everything is going to be fine and work out some how because the boys are all there and they can make it through anything. And the song that Dean played (on a cassett mind you because by this point people stopped selling cassets but I have a whole thing about how Dean represents the old way of hunting, the traditional ideas of hunters but I’m going to spare you that) demonstrates what is Dean in this moment, announcing that he has arrived and is not just going to leave. And Dean drives up to what is about to be an archangel smack down, unarmed and without any form of back up or help. He’s just a normal freaking person who both of these archangels are mildly annoyed with for his defiance and refusal to do as they wanted and he just get’s out of the car like it’s nothing. Like these two beings couldn’t just cease his existence with a snap of their fingers with that cocky grin on his face and they know he shouldn’t be there, that this is the dumbest thing either of them can fathom a lowly human doing and Dean just casually get’s out like ‘Howdy boys. Am I interrupting something?”
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