#i wanted to leave at intermission but the crowd and venue was so small it would have been incredibly fucking obvious

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 38

it was 3 hours. i had to lay down immediately.

#day 38 #year 5 #it me #and look it was not the fault of ANY of the actors. they all did phenomenally well. #it was a bad script. it wanted to be a comedy so bad.... #the lines were all delivered with the cadence and attitude of something that SHOULD have been a joke but just. was Not. #there was also no plot it was just A Series Of Things Happening #in the interest of not being a shitty little hater i will not name it but suffice it to say it was kind of niche anyway #AND IT WAS THREE HOURS. I DONT KNOW IF IT WAS MEANT TO BE THREE HOURS OR IF THE ACTORS WERE JUST TALKING SLOW. #they took so many long breaks for laughter that simply was not there.... i felt so bad. #i wanted to leave at intermission but the crowd and venue was so small it would have been incredibly fucking obvious #i couldnt do it to those poor actors #WHO AGAIN WERE ALL DOING REALLY WELL THEY HAD INCREDIBLY IMPRESSIVE VOCALS FOR BEING IN THE WORST COMMUNITY THEATER PRODUCTION IVE EVER SEE

[dark-arts-and-crafts-universe]

A Dying Art (Chapter 9)

A Dying Art

Lorcan Verdigris is not a necromancer. Anymore. But when the leader of the local necro coven comes to him with a request he really, really can’t refuse, he finds himself back in a world he’d tried to leave behind. Someone is trying to steal a powerful magical artifact, one whose destruction could unleash chaos upon the city. Or save it from an even greater danger. Or do nothing at all. Who knows. See, this is exactly why Lorcan stopped messing with the stuff.

Unfortunately, one way or another, Lorcan’s the one stuck dealing with it. He’d like to say this is a challenge that will take all his magic and his ingenuity to overcome, but let’s be real, stopping this threat will take something even more dire: actual effort. At least he’s getting paid this time…

Previous | Table of Contents | Next

Chapter 9: Opal’s Obols

Word count: 3,623

Content warning: surprisingly, no major content warnings

-

Eva the Inevitable's band, Lorcan figured out on the bus using his phone's very slow internet browser, was a non-entity. The only review he could find was on a website called ‘Zeen Zine’. It wasn’t terribly flattering. The reviewer thought that “the fake bass backing was distracting, just hire a real bass player” and that “the set would be better if it didn’t have so many breakup songs”. 

Lorcan was surprised the writer hadn’t been cursed for that–nope, there we go, memorial post about their mysterious death shortly after the review. Necromancers held grudges, after all. Looks like Eva a little more than most. He’d have to watch himself here.

Tonight, the band was playing for a small outdoor venue, the kind that had a cheap set-up and probably spent most of its profits paying off noise violations. A rocker’s voice–Eva, he assumed–snaked its way from the stage. “There’s a stranger in your skin, and it’s killing me,” it crooned. “Don’t know where you’ve been, I missed the autopsy.”

The words were accompanied by a disconcertingly sinuous guitar riff Lorcan could feel, deep in his gut. Literally, it was probably some kind of intestine curse.

Necromancy. And people paid money for this?

(Despite his bitching, the door fee wasn’t actually that much. He gave the bouncer some change and got a nice stamp on the back of his hand for the trouble.)

He spent the next five songs nursing a soda awkwardly, just another face in the crowd. That suited Lorcan just fine–he didn’t want to put himself on anyone’s radar if he didn’t have to. He was pretty peopled out already. And here, eavesdropping might actually work. Because Eva talked. She bounced from conversation to conversation in the brief breaks between sets. And when she wasn’t talking, she was singing.

It was probably too much to hope she’d have a song called My Plan To Get Revenge On The Crown Osiris (Ask Me How), but what he’d heard so far was promising. The review was right–there were a suspicious number of breakup songs.

Intermission came, and Lorcan had to shield his soda with a hand from groupie-minions shoving past him to the outdoor bar. He was debating whether or not to toss the drink anyways, when he felt an arm sling over his shoulder.

“Hey there,” a voice, husky and rough from singing, whispered into his ear. Lorcan turned to see Eva the Inevitable pressing uncomfortably close to his side.

Her denim jacket was cut in a punk style with black fur along the edges. A dyed rabbit’s foot swung from each ear. Makeup streaked across her face wildly, enough that it didn’t matter the sweat from her performance was making it run. If Belial was aiming for a commanding look, Eva went for fierce. And unlike Belial, he’d somehow earned her attention before he even did anything.

Lorcan found his eyes drawn to the guitar slung across her back. It was nice. Very nice. A shiny white that sparkled in the light. Well-kept. But the part that stood out was the two hand’s worth of fingerbones set into the neck, like a skeleton was strumming the thing from behind. They glittered like gemstones, not a clean white but covered in shimmering iridescence.

Using opalized fossils to channel the dead was Osiris’s signature style of necromancy. But, of course, they’d inherited that ability from Eva’s old friend Opal.

“Sorry, do I know you?” he asked.

“I’d hope so, seeing as you’re at my concert.”

“Oh, I’m just here for the opener,” he drawled. “I think Blood and the Blood-tones are doing some really innovative things with polyphonic sound.”

“You wanna meet them? I can take you backstage,” Eva told him.

What–no. This wasn’t how the banter was supposed to work. Lorcan had no idea how Eva had zeroed in on him. He wasn’t letting himself get sucked into another social situation so soon–not while the conversation had spiraled this far out of control. “I’m, uh. Shy,” he said.

“Don’t let the name fool you, they’re sweethearts.” Eva pushed him forward–it turned out ‘backstage’ in this place was a smaller, fenced off area that was barely blocked off from the rest of the venue. Eva shoved him towards the others sitting there, who must be either her bandmates or various Blood-tones, and headed towards an open, beat-up guitar case.

“Groupies, Eva?” one asked. “He doesn’t exactly look like your type.”

She set the guitar into the case, and said, “Hardly. This is a little necromantic apostate–” Eva punctuated her speech with the snaps of latches shutting tight. “--who wandered into our neck of the woods for some reason. I’m curious why.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lorcan said, trying to keep his face blank. Necromancy? Who’s she?

“You can play dumb,” she told him, “but I never forget a face. I have seen yours at the Halloween parties. You’re that Baker witch’s kid,” she said, and Lorcan winced. “Last name starts with a V. Used to run with Dexter Young’s crew.”

“And what,” he snapped, “that means I can’t appreciate music?”

“Name one band.”

Fuck. “My Chemical Romance?” Eva raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Yeah, even Lorcan didn’t buy that. He tried a different lie: “Fine. I was looking for a little help.” He gave an irritated scoff (he was pretty good at those) and added, “Osiris sure wasn’t any.”

“Oh?” Eva asked.

“I’ve been trying to get back into necromancy, but I’m rusty. I didn’t expect a handout or anything,” he told her. “Just a few tips, maybe put me in touch with someone who could help refresh my memory. Apparently that’s too much to ask from the great Crown Osiris the Second.”

She laughed at that. “Yeah, the Crown sure is an ungrateful set of bastards.”

“Eva,” one of her bandmates said, like a warning.

She glared back, then added, louder, “Who do they think got them in a position to become a gestalt soul entity, or whatever? They owe us a little consideration, don’t you think?”

Impulsive, he thought. In a way that her crew disagreed with. Lorcan didn’t want to be interrogated by so many necromancers all at once. One-on-one, though–he might be able to handle that. Maybe even build a positive rapport. If Eva was the saboteur, he’d need that when he had to…make a decision what to do next.

And he thought he had an angle he could try. “I don’t know if they really owe me anything in particular,” he said, trying to look casual. “But we were friends once. I thought that might count for something.”

Eva seemed to come to a decision then. “I need a smoke,” she announced to her band, then to Lorcan, “We’ve got twenty minutes before my next set. Let’s talk.”

“Is that a good idea?” another bandmate asked, looking close enough at Lorcan’s face he really had to work to hide the smug feeling of a plan working out.

“It’s whatever I say it is. Don’t forget your place,” Eva said, in a tone that made Lorcan suddenly understand why she called herself ‘the Inevitable’. The guy shut up.

“The band gets overprotective sometimes,” she told Lorcan as she walked them into an empty alley outside the venue. He made sure to stay near the entrance. “Worried some spy’s going to carry my words back to Osiris. Which is stupid, I’ve said all this to their face before.”

“Mouthing off to Osiris rarely goes well,” he noted.

She pulled a cigarette from her pocket. “See, I think you know that from experience, which is interesting. Puts you and me in a very small group.” She lit the thing up and raised it to her lips.

“Isn’t that bad for your voice?” Lorcan asked.

She snorted. “Guy, my lungs have been dead for years. Highly recommend revivifying your organs once you train back up a bit. I can fill these babies with whatever I want.”

“Right,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, you wanted tips. But you’ve gotta quid some pro, too.” She took a long drag of the cigarette. “Not many people can say they were close to any of the old coven leaders, and Dexter Young wasn’t close to anyone. Not since you.”

Lorcan blinked. He hadn’t cared to keep up with Dexter’s social life, but he’d always assumed he found someone to replace him as the token sort-of-friend. “I quit the coven ten years ago, we didn’t stay in touch. Anything I could tell you about his abilities is going to be outdated.”

And even then, his knowledge was limited. Dexter never trusted Lorcan with important secrets. He’d let him help bury an early prototype of his death curse once. It hadn’t been able to unleash the radioactive blight Dex had truly wanted, which meant it was basically harmless for Lorcan to know about. But that was the furthest his trust went.

“Relax. Young just always seemed like an ass to me, I’m curious about your take. Figured you’d like the chance to vent. Is there a song in your heart that’s been dying to get out?”

Right. Bonding. The rapport. He shifted in place. Death trivia, one-upsmanship, Lorcan could handle that. Those were well-worn tools in his angsty edgelord self’s arsenal. Discussing feelings was not. He couldn’t fake a big outpouring of emotions. Not over Dexter.

“There’s not much to vent about,” he admitted. “Dex was an ass, but the same way every necromancer teen is. Angry, chip on his shoulder, always something to prove.”

“So why be friends with him?”

Because Lorcan was angry, and had a chip on his shoulder, and something to prove. He and Dexter had fit, for all it hurt to think about. “I don’t know. It just happened, I guess.” He didn’t mean to let nostalgia slip into his words, but even he could hear the way his voice cracked at that.

“I get that,” Eva said. “I was in a bad way when I met Opal, and we just–fell together. She bought me a guitar when I said I wanted to learn, put a lot of trust in me to keep her safe.” Her voice grew wistful as she added, “When she took out the other coven leaders, she was going to give us anything we wanted. Riches, power. We wouldn’t need anything ever again.”

Lorcan remembered Osiris dismissing trust as a human weakness. His soda started to slush uncomfortably in his stomach.

“Of course,” she continued, lips curling downwards, “then that little gestalt ritual went down. And she came back…like that. Not herself. Not even a thank you to the ones who put everything on the line to keep her breathing. It’s like–”

There was a stranger in her skin, he thought. Now that was a motive.

He turned the situation over in his head. Eva seemed to think Opal would have honored their agreement once she was in charge. Doubtful, in his opinion, but all that mattered was Eva believed it. Could she also think destroying Osiris’s crown would bring her friend back?

Love went farther than fear sometimes, Belial had said.

“That’s friendship for you, isn’t it?” Lorcan asked, almost more to himself than to her. “Everyone either turns on you or dies.”

Eva was silent a moment. Then she chuckled. “Wow. Who hurt you, kid?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Somebody had to fuck you up real bad for you to still be talking like that.” She smiled around the cigarette. “It'd be too sad, otherwise.”

Lorcan pushed off from the wall. “Maybe I just like sad songs,” he said. He needed to get out of here. “Enjoy your smoke break.”

It wasn't a total waste, he told himself as he headed back to the main venue. He knew Eva had motive, and was maybe reckless enough to try and pursue it. Habitually, he raised his soda can to his lips while he thought, then stopped.

Instead, he tossed it in the nearest trashcan with a splashy thunk. In the end, he hadn’t drunk much at all.

He needed to get his mind back to safer topics. Like this investigation. Motive was only one piece of the puzzle. Eva was a musician, wasn’t she? How did that create the red haze that had trapped Lorcan? Or help her break into Osiris's mansion?

The guitar, he thought. That thing had to be magical, probably even haunted. If it did something that matched what Lorcan knew about the saboteur, he’d have his proof. He’d need a closer look. And he had ten and a half minutes left in Eva’s smoke break.

He snuck behind one of the bigger amps that was being stored backstage and used that rubber lubricant and his time magic to fuck with the wiring a bit. It didn’t hit him until after he’d finished casting that he could have just messed with it physically, but honestly the magic ended up working just as fast. Less time than killing Kryptonia’s laser rig took–the amp was pretty old already for such an important piece of equipment.

Lorcan did feel bad about that, especially once the thing started giving off smoke, but eight fully conscious rockers could handle one small fire and he needed a distraction. If Eva really was the one who’d cursed him he could write it off as ironic payback.

The case was covered in enchanted custom decals, and as Lorcan shined his keychain light on the latches he could see they were engraved with something vaguely runic. Lorcan’s defensive bracelet wouldn’t work against whatever was warding the case. It was fueled by an attacker’s ill intent and a box didn’t have ill-anything. But the decals were exploitable.

Most protective enchantments also protected themselves from damage, because that would otherwise leave a very obvious hole in your sticker-based security system. At the same time, magic was only as permanent as the material used to cast it. Eva’s guitar case was covered in the edges of torn-off stickers where she’d had to renew and replace the magic over the years. They might resist tampering, but they were just as vulnerable to natural decay as anything else.

The fact that Lorcan’s magic was an un-naturally natural decay made him a perfect counter here.

He’d brought the thin ultraviolet penlight in case it helped him against Belial’s tattoo magic. Between that and a small bottle of lacquer thinner Lorcan was able to wreck the stickers. Then he just had to rip open the guitar case. The outermost layer was stiffened leather–Lorcan had rubbing alcohol and sandpaper, just enough to tear open the seam along the top.

It worked quick. Disturbingly so. If Lorcan thought the amp was easy to age, this one barely took any magic at all. He lifted the top panel off the rest of the case and all the padding came with it. He cringed a little at what he saw inside.

The guitar was beautiful. There was no questioning that. The body was a perfect off-white and made of some material that threw off subtle glittering reflections. The buttons and dials gleamed, numbers painted on them in gold. And, of course, the opal inlays in the neck. For all that Lorcan couldn’t ignore they were actual literal fingerbones, they were artful.

No, it was the full picture that upset his aesthetic sensibilities. When you distressed an object, you went for a unified look. A thing wasn’t believably aged if one piece of it still looked fresh. Here, the guitar was shiny and well-kept, with polish that made it look brand new. But it sat inside a case of faded velvet so sun-bleached there was a tan line, fraying at the edges and missing huge patches. It had probably been secondhand when Eva first bought it.

It just didn’t fit. The opal guitar was a diamond in the rough, and it itched at Lorcan.

He tried to push the feeling aside. He wasn’t here to analyze what the guitar symbolized–he just needed to know what this thing could do, if it matched the saboteur’s M.O. He reached out to the guitar and very, very carefully, plucked a string.

Lorcan didn’t hear anything. But the opals shone, and a chilly wave swept down his spine. His heart pounded faster and for a second it seemed certain that Eva was going to find him, right now, he should run–

No, he thought. That had to be the music talking. He used his palm to stop the string’s vibrations, and the feeling vanished.

Inaudible noise, and fear effects. Using the ghost inside this definitely-haunted guitar to generate infrasound, maybe. The sound was like a very low bass outside the range of human hearing, and the vibrations were supposed to stimulate a sense of inexplicable dread and terror. The funny thing was (necromancer-funny, at least), infrasound was rumored to be responsible for at least a few famous ghost sightings.

Had Lorcan felt this when the curse hit him back at Kryptonia’s? Sort of. Dread and terror? Yes. Inexplicable? No. His son had been in danger, it made perfect sense to be afraid of that. And the red haze itself had felt–hazy. The fear hadn’t come until after he’d been broken out.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he heard from somewhere in front of and above him, and this time the fear was real.

He looked up to see Eva perched on one of the amps he’d been using to hide his subterfuge, glaring daggers down at him. She was back earlier than expected. Her singer’s voice had been tight with a barely-restrained fury.

“That guitar,” Eva told him. “Was a gift. A gift from the friend I just explained to you that I miss very dearly.”

Yeah, Lorcan thought. There was nothing he could say to that.

“I’m going to give you one chance to explain why I came back to find my band panicking over a busted amp and you doing something to the only gift I have to remember her by?”

“What I’m hearing is, Opal only gave you one gift.”

The words snapped out of Lorcan’s mouth without his conscious approval. Really, he hadn’t meant to say that. The look of incandescent rage growing on Eva’s face was enough to prove that saying things was a bad fucking call.

Why did Lorcan do this? What was so wrong with his brain that it took any good thing and twisted it into its most suspicious outcome? No one ever appreciated it, because they all trusted and liked people.

Including, apparently, other necromancers. Lorcan was still always the outlier.

The worst part was, he didn’t even think he was wrong. Yes, he was making a snap judgment without knowing the whole situation. Yes, it was unfair. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t right. Lorcan had been hired as a detective. Well, here was some detecting:

Eva had been loyal to Opal for years. Now, she was a musician working cheap gigs at cheap places. Opal lived in a vast, sprawling mansion purchased with black market gem money, and that was long before Osiris was around to betray anyone. However expensive this guitar was, he’d bet it was pocket change for Opal. Was it really all she had ever given Eva?

He didn’t want to burn this bridge. He might need it later. But god, he couldn’t shake the frustration that she wasn’t seeing this.

“Did she ever pay you for your work? Get you guitar lessons, hype the band, anything?” he asked. He gestured down at the guitar, adding, “Who buys someone a guitar this fancy and doesn’t even shell out for a decent case? Go on. Tell me I’m wrong!”

That seemed to give her pause a second. “When she beat the others–”

“I know, riches, power,” he cut in. “But she had those already. You’ve seen her mansion. Why wait to pay you back? You say Osiris owes you consideration–what about Opal? What did she owe you?”

“Opal was being hounded by the other coven leaders,” Eva said. “She couldn’t let them know–” She stopped, then squinted at Lorcan. “She couldn’t repay us until after we won.”

“Convenient.”

“Fuck you. You didn’t know her like I did. Opal never would have betrayed us if the Crown hadn’t interfered.”

It was a tempting story, he thought. That there was honor among necromancers and your old boss definitely would have given you everything you deserved. The person who hurt you was the horrible Osiris and their nasty souls, not your boss, not your friend. There was just one problem with that.

“Opal chose to become the Crown,” he said. “So did Dexter, so did every last one of them.” He wasn’t going to pretend like that didn’t matter.

Lorcan knew Dex. If Dexter had been the one to win the murdergame, and Osiris turned on his old followers–that wouldn’t be Dex becoming a worse person. It would just be Osiris finally getting to do what Dex had always wanted.

She could believe Opal was different. Lorcan didn’t.

Eva’s breath came out in a huff from revivified lungs. She jumped off the amp, and then there was pain as she used her height to drive her boot into his stomach. “Show up at one of my concerts again and I’ll use your guts for guitar strings,” she told him, reaching down to retrieve her instrument. “Your friend is dead. And as far as I’m concerned Opal died with the rest of them.”

As Lorcan clutched his stomach, trying to breathe, he decided that the worst part wasn’t that he might be right about Opal. It was that he’d thought saying so might actually help.

#original fiction #writing #fantasy #mystery #dark arts and crafts #lorcan #necromancy #a dying art

[callsign-smalls]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter Two: “Burn With Me, Heaven’s On Fire”

*4 days later.

Madelyn POV

"So Dean, when is this 'oh so special' guest of yours going to show up? You know, the one you refuse to tell me hardly anything about?" I ask my older brother as I walk into the living room, glancing up at the clock on the wall. "Because if they're riding with us to the venue, they need to show up in the next fifteen minutes or else we're leaving without them."

Dean lets out a small chuckle, just shaking his head. "Take a deep breath and relax Maddie, it's gonna be fine. He got here while you were in the shower earlier?"

"He?" I retort, raising an eyebrow. "You know I don't judge Deano, but um, I didn't know that you were in to guys."

"Well, until I met him, I didn't exactly know either." Dean explains, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's honestly a really great guy Maddie, you should know."

"Hold on a second, do I already know this mystery man?"

Dean just grins, nodding his head to someone or something behind me. "Well, you can just turn around and see for yourself."

I look behind me, my eyes quickly widening whenever I see who just walked into the room.

"Gaz?" I ask, my eyebrow raised. "Hold on a second, since when do you know my brother?"

Gaz lets out a small and quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you remember when your brother went to London about two years ago?"

I give Kyle a small nod. "Yeah, it was to visit an old BAU teammate of his that had transferred to take over the Interpol office over there."

"Well, the two of us met on the bus while he was over there, and I managed to sweet talk your brother enough to get his number." Gaz explains, looking over at Dean before giving him a quick wink. "I'm sorry we've kept it from you for this long, we just wanted to enjoy the peace in secret for a while."

I raise my hands up, giving Gaz a light shake of my head. "Hey, it's you all's relationship, not mine. I'm just glad that the two of you are happy, that's all."

Gaz just smiles, pulling me in for a tight but quick hug. "Thank you Madelyn, that means a lot."

After a few moments of the three of us chatting while shrugging our coats on, I see a familiar blonde head of hair making its way into the room.

"Hey kiddo, you ready to go?" I ask Austin, who gives me a small nod. "Alright, that's good. You should double check to make sure you have your camera and everything else, because we have to get going here pretty soon."

•        •        •

"Oh come on Maddie, would you please just take a deep breath and relax?" My cousin Daisy asks me, both of her hands currently resting on my shoulders. "You've done this practically a million times before, everything's gonna be fine."

"I know, it's just that it's been a long time since we've been able to do a show, and I've never played guitar in front of this many people before." I reply, rubbing the back of my neck. "I know I'm not lead guitar, but still. It's a little nerve wracking."

"Hey guys, it's about time for us to go on." Dean says as he walks over, our brother Beau right behind him.

"It's gonna be fine, alright?" Daisy says, giving my shoulder a quick squeeze. "You'll be fine Madelyn, and you're gonna do great like you always do. Besides, you'll only be playing guitar until intermission, so it's not even that bad."

The four of us then make our way onstage, each of us giving Austin a fist bump as we walk past him.

Once everyone has gotten settled into their various spots on the stage, I walk up to the microphone with a wide grin on my face.

"Hello everybody! How are y'all doin' out there tonight?" I ask, grinning even wider than before when the crowd cheers in response. "That's good, real good. Now, I think it's about time for us to play a few songs for you guys, huh? What do y'all say?"

I look back at the others, all of us sharing a quick nod before Dean and I begin to play the beginning notes of our first song.

*beginning instrumental*

You are a prisoner of what they wanted you to be, now you're a minister of a brand new reality. Don't you want to get away? Shut down all the voices, all the white noises. Drowning in deeper waves, I gotta get away.

They think they own you, but they don't know you've broken free, better on your own. You're on top of the world, at the top of your lungs. Come on, and shout your freedom!

Victory is what has come alive inside when they've been gone. Shout it out to the world at the top of your lungs. Come on, and shout your freedom!

*short instrumental*

I take a quick glance around at the crowd, grinning from ear to ear when I spot the rest of my family in the crowd.

And now you're flying high, you won't be held down by regrets. You're not just getting by, you're a warrior and proud of it. You don't have to be afraid. Hear how loud your voice is, shut out all the noises. You don't have to be ashamed, so never run away.

They think they own you, but they don't know you've broken free, better on your own. You're on top of the world, at the top of your lungs. Come on, and shout your freedom!

Victory is what has come alive inside when they've been gone. Shout it out to the world at the top of your lungs. Come on, and shout your freedom!

*instrumental*

Dean and I let it all out for the guitar solo, the two of us sporting matching grins as we fly through the various notes.

Victory is born. You'll never go back, you're never going back. Look what you've become. You're flying higher, 'cause you're a fighter.

They think they own you, but they don't know you've broken free, better on your own. You're on top of the world, at the top of your lungs. Come on, and shout your freedom!

Victory is what has come alive inside when they've been gone. Shout it out to the world at the top of your lungs. Come on, and shout your freedom!

•        •        •

Once Beau announces intermission, I make my way off the stage and over to where my family's sitting the bar.

"Holy shit Mads, I honestly forget about the set of pipes you had on you." Phillip says, giving me a small pat on the back. "All of you guys have been doing amazing up there so far."

"You really think so?" I ask my brother, who just gives me a small nod in response. "Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

"And as a small token of respect for doing so well, I'm buyin' you a drink." Phillip tells me, then turns ing around to flag down the bartender.

Once my brother hands me the drink, I take a long swig right as I hear someone walking up behind me.

"I hope that you didn't forget about me lass, because if you did, I'd be truly hurt."

I turn around and nearly yelp in surprise when I see my best friend Johnny standing there.

"Holy- oh my god! Johnny, what are you doin' here?" I ask, pulling the Scotsman in for a tight hug. "I thought you were on an assignment with Price."

Johnny just shrugs. "I was, but when our assignment ended just a few days ago and Gaz told me about your little hidden talent, I figured that I should probably come see what the fuss was all about. Cap's here too, somewhere. I think he's talking with your brother and Gaz about something, I don't really know."

"I'm so glad you're here, you have no idea." I tell Johnny, pulling him in for another hug. "I mean it, thank you for comin'."

Johnny gives me a small nod before taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, of course. You don't need to thank me though, bonnie. I mean, how could I not take the chance to come see my best girl?"

"Your best girl?" I retort, slowly raising an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you mean by that MacTavish?"

I see unfamiliar movement out of the corner of my eye, looking over to see Daisy making her way towards Johnny and I.

"Hey there Mads, Beau and Dean wanted me to come get you because you he intermission's almost over." Daisy explains, raising her eyebrow slightly as she looks between Johnny and I.

"Will you hold this for me until I get back?" I ask Johnny, smiling whenever he gives me a small nod. "Thanks darlin', you're the best."

I give Johnny a quick kiss on the cheek before following Daisy into the crowd, us girls making our way back over to the side of the stage.

"So, you're gonna tell me all about him later, right?" Daisy asks me, grinning whenever I give her a short nod. "That's my girl."

Once we're all back on the stage, I turn towards the crowd with a new and better sense of energy than before.

"Alright everybody!" I call out, grabbing most of the crowd's attention. "This next song of ours is a cover of a classic song. Y'all feel free to sing along if you know the words."

*beginning instrumental*

Woo-oo-oo!

*short instrumental*

I look at you and my blood boils hot, I feel my temperature rise. I want it all, give me what you got. It's hunger in your eyes.

I'm getting closer, baby hear me breathe. You know the way to give me what I need. Just let me love you and you'll never leave.

Feel my heat, takin' you higher. Burn with me, heaven's on fire. Paint the sky with desire, angel fly, heaven's on fire (woo).

I look around the crowd, grinning widely and giving Johnny a quick wink whenever I spot him in the crowd.

I got a fever ragin' in my heart, you make me shiver and shake. Baby don't stop, take it to the top. Eat it like a piece of cake.

You're comin' closer, I can hear you breathe. You drive me crazy when you start to tease. You could bring the devil to his knees.

Feel my heat, takin' you higher. Burn with me, heaven's on fire. Paint the sky with desire, angel fly, heaven's on fire.

Oh oh, heaven's on fire. Oh oh, heaven's on fire. Oh, oh.

*instrumental*

I'm getting closer, baby hear me breathe. You know the way to give me what I need. Just let me love you and you'll never leave.

Feel my heat, takin' you higher. Burn with me, heaven's on fire. Paint the sky with desire, angel fly, heaven's on fire. Feel my heat, takin' you higher. Burn with me, heaven's on fire.

Paint the sky with desire, angel fly, heaven's on fire. Feel my heat, takin' you higher. Burn with me, heaven's on fire.

[sorryjustafangirl]

☀️ because i cannot control myself, my lovely beautiful boy mathew with #18, #36 and #96 pls (don't do all of them if you don't want to!!! even one is wonderful <3)

this is so late and i didn't even use all of the prompts but i hope you love it as much as i do!! <3 also this is not really a blurb so sorry

warning: mention of a reader panic attack

prompts: “You’re safe now, okay? I’m here.” + “Hey, don’t cry.”

You regretted this already.

When you gave Mat Nickelback tickets for their special reunion at Terminal 5, a smaller, more intimate venue in New York, you thought he’d go with Tito, or even fly his dad down. You didn’t think he’d want to take you. So when he assumed you were coming with him, you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no. You didn’t want to let him down. 

You had forgotten the venue was smaller and everyone had standing room until you were inside and his hand was leading out to the floor where there was already a small crowd in front. When he looked back at you to make sure you were okay, you flashed a tight smile, and he bought it, his own smile lighting up. He led you to about halfway, not so close to the opening act that you were at the gate, but not quite at the back. That was okay. You had a great time watching your boyfriend dance along to some of the songs, and singing with him along to a couple of the songs. 

But once the opening act ended, the brief intermission brought more people. People started to push you forward and you barely had time to grab Mat’s hand to make sure you weren’t separated. Soon, everyone was standing shoulder to shoulder, and even though Mat was standing right beside you, your anxiety still started to creep in, everyone making you feel trapped. 

And as soon as you’d calmed down from that stress, the band came on. The crowd roared even louder than you’d anticipated and the people around you, including Mat, started bustling around, accidently bumping into you and leaving no personal space. Then the lights came. They flashed and changed colours and on top of that, the band started playing, the volume being more than you had expected. You could barely comprehend one sensation before all of the others were dialled to 11. It was all too much. You could feel your throat start to constrict, your breath quickening, and you knew it was a matter of time before you were going to have a panic attack. 

You tugged on your boyfriend’s arm, and with as much stability in your voice as you could, told him you were going to go to the bathroom. He nodded his head and gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before turning back to the stage. 

You rushed, as quickly as you could, through the crowd of people until you reached the back of the venue. You pushed through people way taller than you, but you found the quiet bathroom. There was always a line (why were there so many people here, you thought) so you just stood off to the side, trying to find a sense of calm in the chaos. 

Your breathing felt swallower and your head started to feel fuzzy, trying to block out how overwhelming everything was. You could feel tears starting in your eyes and you tried to focus on anything else to prevent a complete breakdown at a concert. You couldn’t even tell how much time had passed, everything just felt wrong. 

You had your eyes closed, trying to block out the atmosphere and focus on your breathing, when you felt someone touch your arm. You immediately retracted from them, but relaxed a little when you opened your eyes and saw it was just Mat. 

“Hey, you've been gone a while, are you okay?” He asked, breathlessly, like he’d been singing along to all of the songs. 

You could only shake your head, still feeling like you needed to catch your breath. “It’s too much. I can’t- I can’t. It’s too much.”

“Oh. Okay, uh," he mumbled to himself, before coming closer to you, shielding your from any onlookers or other stimulus. "You’re safe now, okay? I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay.” His hand brushed up and down your arm, trying to soothe you. His words and movements seemed to help, because air seemed to enter your lungs like normal and your head didn’t feel as cloudy. He noticed this difference, leaning down so he was in your line of sight. “What would make you feel better right now?” 

“I think home would, but the concert just started, so I’ll go sit in the car and wait until it’s over. Could I have the keys?” you asked timidly. He dug into his pocket to find the car keys, but stopped just shy of dropping them into your outstretched hand. He turned his head back to the band on stage, the bright lights, the crowd jumping along to the beat of the music; even you could tell he wistfully wanted to be back out there. 

Instead, he gripped the keys harder and turned back to you. “Let’s go home.” His hand was held out, but you just titled your head. 

“We?”

“Yeah, we. C’mon, let’s go,” he said, shaking his hand a little as a gesture for you to grab it. 

“No, you should stay and enjoy the concert. I’ll go wait in the car for you,” you protested. 

“Babe. We’ll go home, it’s okay, c’mon.” Reluctantly, you placed your hand in his, and smiled shyly when he squeezed it. He led you to the car park, opening the passenger door for you, before hopping in and started the drive back home. 

You had finally fully calmed down, looking out the window as Mat crossed onto the island from downtown. He turned the radio on at a low volume, but it was still loud enough you could hear it. 

“And now for some Nickelback, because they’re playing a special set tonight in town! This is ‘Rockstar’ and you’re listening to 106.7 Lite FM.” The song started to play but you couldn’t really hear it and you thought of everything Mat had just given up for you. You felt the tears start to well up in your eyes, and you were trying to take deep breaths to keep them from falling but you were failing. 

Soon enough, the tears came in earnest. Mat was missing his favourite band at probably their last concert all because you couldn’t stand to be in the stuffy area anymore. How couldn’t he resent you for this? Oh god he’s going to hate me, you thought. 

You hadn’t even noticed he’d pulled over the vehicle until his hand brushed your arm. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. It’s okay. Hey, c’mon, look at me, eh?” He asked, his voice acting like a lighthouse in a storm, guiding you out of your head. You sniffled once more and turned your head to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I made you miss the concert because I couldn’t handle some people and sounds and lights, I’m so-I’m so sorry Mat,” you hiccupped. 

“Hey, hey.”  He brushed some hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. “You didn’t make me do anything. I made a choice, and I chose you before a band.  There is nothing you have to apologize for,” he said. 

“But you’re missing the concert! You love Nickelback!” 

“I love you a lot more than I love Nickelback, babe.”

“But…this was your birthday gift, and I ruined it,” you muttered, looking down at your hands. 

“Hey, look at me.” You did as he asked, and met his gaze. “All I really ever want for my birthday is to spend time with you. Whether we do that at a concert or at home on the couch, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Because as long as you’re there, I’m happy.” 

Your heart swelled with love and you couldn’t help but drop your shoulders. “I love you so much. You don’t even know.”

“I love you too,” he said, giving you a quick kiss before putting the vehicle back in drive. “Do cuddles sound okay when we get back?”

A smile involuntarily crossed your face as you repeated his words back to him. “As long as you’re there, I’m happy.”

taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @tysonjost-taylorsversion @2manytabsopen @stars-canucks @lorrmorr @fallinallincurls @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby @yummygoldenfood @drei-mrssvechii @bananarantanen @pulpfixion

#abby's 200 #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #new york islanders blurb #new york islanders imagine #mat barzal #abby writes

[luminescencefics]

in the crowd

Here’s my submission for the HS Fic Slam created by the lovely @oh-honey-styles! Big thanks to Anne for putting this all together, I can’t wait to read everybody else’s submissions. Here’s a blurb about the gif above with the prompt “I saw that, you checked me out.” (Essentially my fever dream of going to one of Harry’s live shows written in like 25 minutes haha). Enjoy! x

900ish word count

My masterlist // moodboard // read below:

***

You didn’t necessarily want to be here, per se. But your best friend, Callie, scored comped tickets from the radio station she worked at earlier that day, and she had begged you to come with her, declaring it was the perfect excuse for a girls night out. 

The free tickets were in the coveted friends and family overflow section, which granted you prime viewing access to the stage only a few rows back. The personal upside was that your section was only a few feet away from the bar just towards the exit of the pit, which would come in handy for the remainder of the night.

You were using the concert as your pregame for the rest of the evening. It’s not that you weren’t a Harry Styles fan, because Watermelon Sugar definitely came up on your beach playlist far too many times for you to not remember the words, but you were just looking forward to the next part of the night. The part where you got to dance with your three best girlfriends, drinking all your stresses from the work week away at a club in downtown LA. You didn’t get to see your friends often, but whenever you did, you made sure that girls night out was a memorable outing for all of you.

The four of you began the night at Katsuya, so you were all dressed for the part. As you settled into your seats near the pit, a strong tequila on the rocks in one hand, you observed your outfits compared to the other girls around you, and instantly felt a little awkward. You were sporting black leather pants, the kind that left little to the imagination, showcasing all your best assets. A white bustier bodice top that left a sliver of your skin showing from the waistline of your pants was overtop, with a matching All Saints leather jacket to cover up your cleavage. You felt tall and sexy in your strappy heels, towering over the rest of your friends beside you.

Honestly, you didn’t really care about the Harry Styles concert if you were being truthful. But Callie really wanted to go after watching him leave the radio station that afternoon, and the promise of free drinks and good music was really all you needed to agree to come.

The opening song began and the screams were so loud you felt your feet shaking in your heels. Suddenly, he appeared center stage, beginning his set and singing effortlessly. You were bobbing your head to the first two songs, not knowing the lyrics but appreciating the music. You were also appreciating the way he looked, all tanned skin and fluffy curls, long body with a structured torso, impeccable taste in clothing and sinewy hips. He definitely ticked off all your boxes, and the thought of watching him for another hour and a half really didn’t sound so unbearable anymore.

You were the perfect amount of drunk once the fourth song came, the earlier buzz you had from drinks at Katsuya fading into a delicate layer of inebriation. Harry had waltzed over to your side of the stage at this point, eyeing the crowd and waving at adoring fans. When his eyes fell over to your group, you were almost certain that he was looking straight at you, head tilting in a curious way as if he were trying to remember every line on your face. 

He left just as quickly as he came, and suddenly you needed another drink. After sneaking away and returning as the next song started, one you surprisingly knew quite well, you took a long sip and watched him. He commanded the stage in a way that made you wonder if he was an alpha by fault—taking ownership of every space he ended up filling. It definitely made your head spin with other inappropriate thoughts, but you couldn’t help it. He was handsome and staring at you and you truly had nothing to lose at this point. 

Your early inklings of him checking you out were almost confirmed as you watched him whisper over to his guitar player during a break in the set, feeling two eyes watch you from above. It was only when a dark-haired man sporting a black lanyard peeked over in your direction from the pit, his eyes shifting from Harry towards yours with a bright smile on his face, you knew that he had definitely noticed you.

So you made the next move.

When the song changed from a slow, easy tune into something slightly more upbeat, you handed your almost-emptied tequila drink to Callie, gripping your leather jacket and ripping it off, making sure your chest was perked, showcasing the cleavage in your tight top to the singer whose eyes conveniently shifted towards yours. He backed away from the microphone stand, eyes completely locked on yours, and looked at you from the tips of your painted toes to the tops of your hair. He had a slanted smirk on his face, white teeth beaming in a way that made you know that look was solely for you.

You knew he was quite skilled in reading lips, with the way he’s done it effortlessly to other fans throughout the night. So with one last look you mouthed, “I saw that, you checked me out,” up to him, your rogue-painted lips forming every word with ease.

He simply nodded in your direction, shrugging as if he were completely innocent, before moving to the other side of the stage so that attention wouldn’t be drawn to you. Callie though, caught every word, and you just laughed with her as the show took a quick intermission and Harry returned moments later in a white button-up t-shirt and a Gucci suit overtop.

A few songs later, and a new refill for you, he began singing a popular song from his first album that had your hips swiveling. He was showboating during the instrumental section, prancing around the stage for his screaming fans below. You were close enough to notice the sweat brimming at the top of his hairline, sliding down his sharp cheekbones before pooling at the hollows of his collarbones. The exertion from performing caused a few of the buttons on his dress shirt to pop open, the material turning a bit translucent from the sweat, allowing your eyes to trace the etchings of dark ink swirling around his skin. Just as you were noticing the laurels above his hips, he was suddenly in front of you, eyebrows lifted mischievously with a daring grin on his face.

He copies your words from earlier. “I saw that, you checked me out.”

You simply shrug like he did, biting your lower lip to try and keep your smile from breaking through your face. But he notices it just like he’s noticed practically every move you’ve made that night, and you swear that you can see him groan when his head tilts back, showing the bob of his Adam’s apple.

Your drink was finished by the time Harry began singing his encore. Callie leans over in your direction, letting you know that her boyfriend was waiting for them at Hyde Sunset. You could still feel Harry’s eyes on yours, and a small sliver of you had hope and a pinch of excitement for what could possibly happen next, so you decide to stay, informing your girlfriends that you’ll just call an Uber home from the venue.

They nod and leave, and just as the crowd was screaming as the song ended, a burly man with a black collared-shirt, the words SECURITY printed on the front, appears from the pit, a small piece of paper being thrust in your direction. 

“From the boss,” he utters, head shifting to the stage that was just occupied by Harry.

You nod and unfurl the paper, grinning when you read the uppercase scrawl that was hastily written in the dim lighting from the stage. 

Please tell me you want to see me as badly as I want to see you. -H x

When your eyes fall over the number scribbled on the bottom of the paper, you immediately compose a message on your phone, grinning at the fact that your gut instinct was right, and tonight was definitely going to be full of excitement. 

***

A/N: If you’re curious what happens after....

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader #1dff #1dff updates #HSFICSLAM #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing

[kpop---scenarios]

All Night

Jooheon x Reader

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 2.7k

Commissioned by: @h0n3ybr3

A/N: I really hope you like it! Avsjsh

For the last year of your relationship with Jooheon he never let you set foot in any of the concert venues that he was playing. He always told you that now wasn't the right time to tell people about your relationship, or there was always some reason why you couldn't go. You knew he was only trying to protect you but you really wanted to be there for him in person for once, even if he couldn't make any direct contact with you. 

"Please. Please please pleaaaaseeee." You beg Jooheon. He had a show tonight and you desperately wanted to attend and show your love and support for him and the boys. 

"Absolutely." He grins. 

"Really?" You ask, excitedly. 

"Not." He smiles, showing off those adorable dimples of his. "Baby, trust me when I say, I'm doing this for us, and for you. You know how fans can get. I just wanna protect you, plus I get all sweaty and gross. You don't wanna see that." 

"You know I love when you get sweaty." You pout. 

"I know you do, which is why you can't come because then you'll get horny, and I'll get horny and neither of us will be able to get off until after the show." He says, grabbing your arms while staring at you. "It's just not a good time for either of us." He sighs, giving you a pat on the arm before walking away. 

"Well to fucking bad, cause I'm going." You secretly whisper to yourself as he walks back towards you. 

"What?" He asks. "Did you say something?" 

"Me? Ha, noo." You say, turning to walk away. "Enjoy yourself tonight." 

"I'll see you when I get back baby." He smiles, giving you a small peck on the lips before heading for the door. 

"Or sooner." You murmur under your breath. 

"What'd you say?" Hr asks, turning around. 

"I said nothing." You smile. "Love you." You say as he closes the door behind him. 

How dare he. You wanted to be included with his sweat, why did everyone else get to see him in person at a concert like that and you were stuck watching videos? You wanted him to drip on you from the stage, you wanted to go deaf from standing next to the speaker while he played the rapped and did whatever else he was going to do. And dammit, that was exactly what you were planning on doing tonight. 

You happily took your time getting ready, making sure to wear Jooheon's favorite lingerie set underneath your clothes, since you already knew how tonight was going to end either way. You wore a low cut white top along with a black skirt and a pair of flat shoes that Jooheon loved. You knew he was going to be pissed with you when he saw you there, so you figured wearing some of his favorite things would ease his annoyance with you. 

Once you were happy with your makeup look you went downstairs, got in your car and drove off to the venue. When you got there you had texted Hyungwon who came and let you in the side door and then gave you a backstage pass to make sure no one gave you any grief about being there. 

"Thanks for helping me." You say as you follow him through the narrow halls. 

"Any chance I get to piss off Jooheon, I will take it." Hyungwon laughs. "We're heading on stage in about 5 minutes, once you see us pass by then pop out and stand by the speaker, he'll be sure to see you." He snickers. 

You thank him one last time before he leaves, leaving you standing there awkwardly while your stomach does flips. You hoped Jooheon was going to be happy to see you. 

"Let's do this!" You hear Shownu yell as they all cheer. They all run onto the stage and you can hear the crowd already starting to go wild. You quickly slip out of your spot, moving to where Hyungwon told you too and watched as they started the set. 

Watching Jooheon rap in person was a whole other experience in your mind. You had seen his videos, music videos, lives and those things but to see him physically do what he loved to do was amazing. You were annoyed at yourself for taking so long to come to one of these but even more annoyed at Jooheon for keeping you from it. You couldn't be too mad at him though, he looked damn fine doing what he was doing. 

You stood there swaying and dancing to the music as the song changed, forgetting that Jooheon still didn't know you were here. You opened your eyes when the music stopped, and looked directly into the eyes of your boyfriend who looked surprisingly happy to see you, but also pretty shocked that you were there. You weren't quite nervous anymore now that he knew you were there and you could enjoy yourself a bit more. 

A while later they called for a short 15 minute intermission while other things were getting prepared for their next set. Jooheon rushes over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you away and into a small dressing room. 

"Is this yours?" You ask, looking around.

"God no." He scoffs. "What are you doing here?" He asks, looking you in the eyes. 

"I wanted to see you in concert. Real live concert." You whisper. 

"I know." He smiles. "Hyunwon told me everything." 

"Motherfucker." You growl, knowing you're going to have to torture him later for this. 

"I've got to go back on, but come on." He smiles, grabbing your hand and pulling you from the small room. "I've got something to show you." 

You run behind him as he pulls you closer and closer to the stage, you think he'll let go of your hand before he goes on but you're most definitely mistaken. 

Jooheon pulls you onto the stage where there are thousands of screaming fans. You stand there with your eyes wide as you listen to everyone scream while you're shocked. He leaves you standing beside a drum set, letting go of your hand to sit behind the drums. 

Grabbing the microphone, he yells loudly into it. "I want you all to give a warm, special applause to this beautiful lady right here. She is my light, she is my life, and she is mine." He says before putting the microphone down and begins playing the drums. 

You stand there with tears in your eyes as you watch the love of your life playing a song dedicated to you, in front of thousands of his fans. As he continues to play, he looks over at you, giving you a side smile with a small wink before going back to concentrating on playing. A few minutes later the rest of the boys come onto stage, microphones in hand. Jooheon steps away from the drums, grabbing his microphone to join them. Someone from backstage runs out a stool for you to sit on as the boys surround you and begin serenading you. You couldn't describe the emotions you were feeling so overwhelmed with happiness. Your eyes couldn't leave Jooheon as he sang to you, his voice so sweet and soothing. 

As the song ended, everyone in the crowd began screaming and clapping for them. Jooheon rushed over to you, pulling you into his arms and whispering "I love you." Into your ear. It was the thousandth time he had told you that, but somehow it felt the most special in that moment. 

Jooheon walks you off stage, his arm wrapped around your waist as he presses his lips to yours before heading back out to finish the now interrupted concert. You watched them perform, but your mind was more so thinking about everything you were going to do to that man when you got home. 

** 

The concert ended and the boys were all in the dressing room, getting ready to go home. You walk in as the rest of them are leaving, leaning against the doorway as Jooheon sat in front of the mirror wiping his face. 

"Hey you." He smiles, throwing the towel into a basket. 

"Hey." You blush, looking at the ground. "I can't believe you did that." You laugh, thinking back. 

"I'm full of surprises." He grins. 

You walk over to him, he opens his legs pulling you in closer to him. "Thank you." You whisper, leaning down to give him a peck. You move your face away, both of you staring at each other before you lean in again, pressing your lips against his harder this time. Your lips move against his, his arms wrap around you, holding you against him as your kiss heats up. 

You pull away, catching your breath and let out a little giggle. "Let's go home." You whisper, grabbing his hand to pull him behind you. 

The entire car ride was silent. Your eyes glanced over to Jooheon who was looking straight ahead, his finger tapping on his thigh. You looked up slightly, seeing his semi hard cock bulging against his jeans. 

You squirm in your seat as your pussy begins to drip, thinking about his cock sliding in and out of you, and how badly you wanted him to make you cum. 

As the driver pulled up to your place, Jooheon threw some money at him before ushering you out of the car, making you hurry into the building. The two of you silently wait for the elevator to come, and when it does you press the close door button so no one else can get on. The moment those doors close, Jooheon has you pressed against the wall, pushing his hard clothes cock into you, his lips latching onto your neck as he grinds himself on you. 

He moves up your neck, kissing up your jaw, moving to your lips, pulling you in for a hard, passionate kiss. The elevator dings, leaving the both of you breathless as you stand apart, waiting for the doors to open on your floor. You run down the hallway to your apartment, struggling to get the key into the lock. Jooheon stands behind you, pressing himself into you, his hot breath radiating down your neck. His hands reach around, cupping your breasts, squeezing before groaning. 

"Hurry up." He growls. 

You finally get the key into the lock, opening up your door. He pushes you inside, slamming the door closed behind him. He stands there, his chest heaving, he licks his lips as he eyes you up and down. 

He stalks towards you, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling you into him as his lips crash onto yours. He slides his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss before pulling away, and moving away from you. He stands there for a moment, eyeing you up again. 

"Strip." He demands. You're a little caught off guard, but holy fuck, your pussy is dripping. You slide off your shoes, your eyes never leaving his. You hook your thumbs into the waist of your skirt, slowly shimmying it down your legs, revealing your thong. You can hear Jooheon hiss as you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you standing before him in his favorite set. 

"Get on the counter." He tells you. 

You walk over to the counter, hopping up you sit there facing him, your legs crossed. "Spread em, baby." 

You slowly open your legs, your panties barely covering your pussy. Jooheon kneels down, placing your legs over his shoulders before he pulls you closer to the edge. He takes a finger, moving your panties to the side before his two fingers, spreading your pussy lips open, before licking a long strip up with the flat of his tongue, and pulling back. You let out a small moan as you yearn for more contact. He leans in again, licking a strip up again, slower this time, teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

Your hands grip the edge of the counter as Jooheon wraps his lips around your clit, very slowly sucking, making you cry out loudly. 

"Please.. faster." You beg. Jooheon keeps at his pace for a few minutes, making you moan and beg. He loved to hear you beg. 

"Oh god, please." You groan. "Please make me cum, baby." 

Jooheon releases your clit, looking up at you with a smile on his face. "Not yet." He whispers, licking your pussy one more time before standing up and pulling you off the counter. 

"Suck my cock." He demands. 

You quickly turn around, dropping to your knees. You unbutton his pants, pulling them down, allowing his cock to spring free. Precum drips from his red tip, his cock throbbing to be touched. You place your hand on his shaft, pumping his cock a few times, causing him to throw his head back as he lets out a few moans. 

You smirk as you open your mouth, taking in as much of him as you could at once, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Jooheon pulls himself out before he thrusts back into your mouth, making you gag on his cock. You look up at him as he continues thrusting his hips, increasing his speed. Your eyes water as his hands get tangled in your hair, keeping his rhythm while fucks your mouth.

“Fuck you feel so amazing" he grunts, his breathing becoming staggered. He quickly pulls out of your mouth, stumbling back. "I can't cum yet." He breathes.

Jooheon moves towards the couch, sits down, ready for you to straddle him. You climb on top of him, lining yourself up with his cock and he slowly lifts his hips, pushing his cock into your pussy, stretching you out in the most pleasurable way. Jooheon reaches behind you, unhooking your bra, sliding it down your arms and discarding it somewhere in the living room. He cups one of your breasts, pinching your nipple before rolling it in between his fingers, making you throw your head back. "Fuck." You gasp, rocking yourself back and forth on Jooheon's cock. 

He lets go of your breast, leaning forward to take the other one in his mouth, wrapping his lips around your perky nipple, tugging and sucking. Your rock yourself harder on his cock, you clit rubbing against him perfectly. 

"Oh fuck." You cry out, your hands gripping onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. Jooheon quickly stands up, you wrap your legs around his waist, his cock still buried inside you. He moves swiftly through your apartment to your bedroom, tossing you both onto the bed. He lifts your legs straight into the air, and pulls his cock out of you before pounding himself back into you. He wraps a hand around your neck, squeezing tightly as he snaps his hips, his cock hitting all the right spots. You gasp for breath as his grip tightens, his thrusts becoming erratic. 

He releases your throat, moving his hand between your legs, his thumb pressing your throbbing clit. He starts rubbing, making you arch your back and moan loudly. 

"Please don't stop." You gasp, your hands gripping your sheets as your orgasm builds so quickly. "I'm gonna cum." You cry out as you tighten yourself around his cock. 

"Fuck." He groans, thrusting faster. 

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming." You scream, your orgasm pulsating through your entire body, your eyes rolling back into your head as you work through your high. 

Jooheon moves his hands to your legs, holding them tightly as he pounds into you, chasing his own release. 

"Fuck, fuck." He yells as he spills himself into you, filling you up with his warm cum. 

The two stay still for a moment as you catch your breath. Jooheon pulls himself out of you, his warm cum leaking out from your pussy onto the bed sheets. 

He smiles as he pulls you up, your naked body pressed against his. He takes your hand pulling you towards the bathroom for a shower. 

"Baby, I'm gonna fuck you all night." He smirks, dragging you behind him.

#jooheon smut #lee jooheon #jooheon fic #monsta x smut #monsta x fic #monsta x #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Papa 3 and 4 getting a call mid show that their gender neutral s/o has gone into labor?

Oooooh boy! You’ll have them both worried!!

Also just some trigger tags for Pregnancy, cause I know it squicks some peeps out!

Papa III and Papa IV/Copia finding out their partner has gone into labor mid Ritual!

Papa III: 

~Papa wasn’t too keen on going on tour while you were in such delicate condition. After all, pregnancy was not something you could just BAM- plan on dates and work around it. You assured him you would be fine and that it was just a short tour. After all, the little bundle of joy wasn’t due until a month or so after he was due to return!

~... or so everyone thought. Just like Papa, your baby has impeccable timing. 

~He was mid Ritual when the intermission hit and a nervous assistant ran up to him with a cell phone. Imperator called him personally to let him know you had gone into labor (she’s pretty involved in any and all potential heir raising.) At first he thought it was a joke, but panicked when he realized he was speaking to Sister- and she NEVER jokes. Not helped by the fact she was in outside your private room while you were yelling about contractions. 

~”GET THE CAR- GET THE CAR I NEED TO GO TO THE AIRPORT RIGHT NOW!!” 

~Backstage is in chaos as everyone scrambles. Papa NEVER just leaves during a show, even if he has a wicked hang over or is sick! But the man is sprinting to the back trying to get a private jet back to you! Papa doesn’t want to leave you alone while you’re giving birth!! 

~The show intermission lasts so long, and fans almost get confused and upset! What’s taking the band so long?? Why is there is there an announcement asking for an extra thirty minutes? 

~Eventually Papa gets back on stage, full of energy and bouncing around! The ghouls seem a bit nervous, but the Ritual finishes... but none of the fans will ever know it wasn’t Papa on stage! Let’s say the man called in a favor, and Special happens to know shape shifting AND all the Ghost songs by heart! ;)

~Unfortunately for you, labor drags on so long that it gives him time to rush in by your side. Maybe if you weren’t in excruciating pain you would have been more happy to see him! But hours of labor and pain just mean you practically throttle him in the delivery room for doing this to you in the first place! 

~Eventually the new Emeritus heir is born and wrapped in your arms, with your Papa holding you both. You almost want to bop Papa on the head when he asks the baby if he couldn’t have waited just a few more days! “You could have given your Papa a little notice, no?”  

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia:

~Absolutely did NOT want to leave your side the entire pregnancy. Copia is the type of partner to be more worried than you are, and you are the one carrying the child! But Copia has never thought he would be lucky enough to have children, let alone the heir to a new bloodline HE started! 

~You were the one who convinced him to go on tour. Not just because the High Clergy and Sister Imperator were breathing down his neck. As much as you would miss him, you were happy to have a little space while he did a small European tour. Besides, the baby would be fine while he continued to work hard! You and Copia had all the time to enjoy the birth after he got back. 

~Imagine your shock when you go into labor the first night of the tour, mid show! You almost wanted to keep it a secret, as did Imperator so Copia could FOCUS on doing his job. But word got back to him immediately. 

~Copia caught wind of it RIGHT before Ghost was to take the stage. Much to the annoyance of fans, the opening band got to play more songs. Copia tried his best to get out of the venue to fly home to you immediately, but was not permitted by the high clergy (something he has never forgiven them for.)

~Instead Copia locked himself in his dressing room and face timed you the entire time, crying and gently speaking to you and helping coach you through it. 

~One hour and an angry crowd later, the baby was born and you were practically passed out. Copia was dragged out to continue the show when he found out the baby was healthy and being cleaned. 

~Your dear Cardinal manages to finish the show without being TOO distracted! In the end he checks up on you and the baby during intermission, and then again after the Ritual is over. He knows it’s not very long but he decides to fly home to meet his newborn heir before he’s forced back on the road. It’s a brief two days but one you both cherish.

~When he becomes Papa he makes the life of everyone who kept him from meeting his child miserable. You have no complaints and find it rather funny! 

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost headcanons #reader insert #gender netural reader #pregnant reader #pregnancy #pregnant #giving birth #babies #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia

[d3-iseefire]

The Symphony of Cinderella

Prompt Request from @specialagentsnark for a concert pianist Bilba and a stagehand Fili who is more than what he seems. I definitely took some liberties with the prompt but I think the elements are all there and I hope you like it! :D

Sonata

Bilba sat quietly in a wood backed chair as her stepmother berated her. Lobelia had been carrying on for a while and Bilba did try to pay attention. The other woman had the habit of periodically stopping to demand Bilba repeat what she'd said, slights and all. If Bilba failed to remember a barb or cutting remark it would launch her stepmother into an entirely new tirade.

"Ungrateful chit," the older woman was saying, hands on her hips. "After all we've sacrificed for you and this is how you repay us?"

Bilba looked at her hands where they lay in her lap, trembling as she slowly wrung them together. She didn't know why Lobelia still got to her. It wasn't like anything she was saying was new or even unusual.

The door to the small dressing room opened and Lobelia's husband, Lotho, squeezed inside. Lotho was Bilba's cousin and simultaneously Lobelia's first and third husband. The two had been married quite young and divorced shortly after Bilba had been born to her own parents, Bungo and Belladonna. After her mother had died, Bungo had married Lobelia with the hopes of providing Bilba a mother figure. The marriage had lasted only a few short years, until Bungo had unexpectedly taken ill and passed away.

Bilba had been five and barely capable of understanding the concept of death. All she knew was her father was gone, and no amount of waiting at the window and watching the front lane would bring him back.

Two months later, Lobelia had married, or remarried in this case, Lotho.

You might want to keep it down, my dear," Lotho said as he slid the door, barely open a crack as it was, closed. "I could hear you in the hall."

"Good." Lobelia raised her chin defiantly. "Perhaps others realizing what a selfish brat she is will bring a certain someone off her high horse."

Bilba's shoulders bunched around her ears and she clasped her hands together, hard enough to turn her fingers white.

Lotho heaved a sigh that, in Bilba's opinion, was a bit melodramatic, not that she would dare say so. Lotho was incapable of handling so much as a hint of criticism and would fly into a near irrational, shrieking rage over the slightest perceived provocation.

"I apologize, Stepmother," she whispered, keeping her eyes focused on her clasped hands. "I'll try to do better." When her father had been alive Lobelia had insisted Bilba call her mother. Now that he was gone, it was Stepmother.

She supposed she should count herself fortunate that the other woman allowed that much familiarity and didn't demand Bilba call her Lobelia.

Lobelia slapped her hand on the small vanity and Bilba jumped as the crack of the woman's palm on the worn wood seemed to echo in the small room. It was little more than a closet, located near the rear of the theater. It hadn't been in use since the building had been renovated, but Lobelia had insisted placing Bilba in it would teach her much needed humility.

She and Lotho had taken over the larger, newer room originally intended for Bilba as it had "already been set up and would be rude to not use."

"I'll try to do better," Lobelia mocked. "After the money we've spent on you I would expect you to do more than try."

Bilba's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly at the words. Her father's will had stipulated that his substantial fortune was to be placed in a trust, under the guardianship of Lobelia, until Bilba turned twenty-one and could take control of it herself.

That day had come and gone six months ago.

Instead of signing it over, Lobelia had informed her that, as she'd never been allowed to handle money she'd clearly be incapable of handling such a large sum on her own. Lotho and Lobelia were therefore graciously doing her a favor by continuing to control her assets. When Bilba had complained she'd been called selfish, greedy and ungrateful.

She'd spent years dreaming of the day she'd be free of Lotho and Lobelia's control and their refusal to sign it over had been crushing. In an act of desperation, and what she could now see was foolishness, she'd gone to her grandfather for help. 

She hadn’t known him very well, and had barely seen him a handful of times but she’d thought surely, since he was her grandfather, since he was family, he’d be the one to help.

Perhaps, if she’d thought it through it would have occurred to her that Lotho and Lobelia were supposed to be family too.

In any event, her grandfather had listened to her quietly, and then asked her to wait in his office while he went to take care of some business. She had, only for him to return with Lobelia and Lotho in tow. They had sat down and tearfully told her how much they loved her and how hurt they were by her actions.

In that moment, Bilba had belatedly come to a horrific realization.

Lobelia and Lotho were radically different people in public.

It was one of those things that she'd been peripherally aware of but hadn't really registered. Just a vague excitement when company was over because things would be quieter. An understanding that she would see Lotho smile more and she could expect Lobelia to give her a compliment or two. A near hunger to be out in public because it was the only time she could get anything close to a hug. The peace when Lobelia was out making her daily house calls or when Lotho was off with a group of friends surrounding him.

The people they were in public were liked.

She was not.

Not because of anything she'd done, but because her cousins had barely let her out of the house. At first they reported it was because she was grief-stricken. Later it was that she was supposedly standoffish. Her father, Lobelia regretfully informed neighbors and extended family, had raised her to put great stock in the fact that her grandfather held the hereditary title of Thain. Bilba was haughty, disdainful, arrogant about her musical ability and greatly preferred practicing for hours rather than risk mingling with the riffraff of the Shire.

Bilba hadn't even realized it was happening. Not any of it, until that fateful day when she'd gone to her grandfather for help...and he hadn't believed her.  

And if she'd thought Lobelia and Lotho treated her poorly before that incident, it was nothing compared to how they treated her now.

"They need her for pictures," Lotho was saying to Lobelia, arms crossed. "And then there's autographs after that and interviews."

Bilba's shoulders sagged. The concert had been long, and she was exhausted. "Could I get something to eat first?" she risked asking, "and maybe a bottle of water?"

She hadn't eaten since that morning, and the last time she'd had anything to drink was when she'd gone to the bathroom at intermission and drank from the sink. Her stomach felt like it was gnawing on her spine and her throat was so dry it hurt to swallow.

Lobelia's lip twisted as her eyes raked over Bilba's figure. "I think you could stand to go without a few meals, don't you? It's a wonder the piano bench could hold you."

Bilba flinched in spite of knowing, logically, that the words were false. She was certainly curvy, but her Stepmother rarely let her eat enough to put on any sort of extra weight.

"Get up," Lobelia suddenly hissed through gritted teeth, apparently angry that Bilba hadn't thought to stand on her own. "Let's see if you're capable of doing anything right tonight or if this entire tour will prove to be a complete waste of our time and money."

Bilba said nothing, grateful they were going to finally leave the room. The red silk evening gown Lobelia had demanded she wear did absolutely nothing to protect her against the cold of the room. It was strapless, and backless except for the small sash that pulled the top back and tied it in place. From there it draped below the small of her back before dropping into a skirt as form fitting as the rest of it. A thigh high slit removed what little protection the thin silk might have offered her legs and left her feeling like she'd worn a bathing suit to the snow.

Lobelia stalked to the door and Bilba meekly followed. In the narrow hall she spotted Otho and Priscilla, Lotho and Lobelia's twins from their first marriage, leaning against the wall. Otho had his hands shoved sullenly in his pockets while Priscilla had her head down and was focused on the phone in her hands.

Both had spent every second of the tour shopping, sightseeing and visiting nightclubs and restaurants.

They hadn't heard her play once.

She saw Otho's eyes travel slowly, and openly, down her figure and her stomach twisted in revulsion. She crossed her arms self-consciously over her chest and sped up to reach Aegnor, who was waiting at the end of the hall. It was his theater she’d played in, to a room that had barely been a quarter full.

So far, it counted as one of her bigger crowds.  

She really had tried to explain to Lobelia and Lotho the reality of touring. Particularly the reality of her touring. She was a good pianist. She knew she was, but she also knew she didn’t have the fame to draw crowds in Shire much less anywhere else.

Even if she had been popular, it didn't mean a tour was a good idea. There were costs for travel, lodging, promotion, merchandise and that was all before the cost of renting the venues. Even if they sold every ticket and every last CD of her music it was unlikely they’d do much more than break even.

Maybe, maybe, if the tour had been small, or only one or two places then they'd have been okay. Lotho and Lobelia had refused to hear anything she'd said, however, and instead had planned a ridiculous tour that would take them literally all-over Middle Earth, starting with Rivendell and ending in Erebor.

They were in Mirkwood now, and it was abundantly clear that not only would they not break even, they'd probably end up in the red. The dollar signs in her Stepmother's eyes had slowly faded, even as they'd added things like photographs and autographs and interviews at small stations to try and drum up more cash.

Their attitudes had gotten worse as time went on and, lately, even their public facades had started to slip. Bilba had a strong suspicion that, with the way her Stepmother and Lotho had been behaving, it'd be a dark day indeed before Aegnor ever booked another group from the Shire.  

"Hello, my dear," Aegnor said, holding his arms out to her. "Ready to meet your adoring fans?"

Bilba forced a smile. So far, very few had been interested enough to purchase either photos or autographs. Those who did tended toward the photograph option and their interest was generally geared more toward hitting on her and less on her music. "As ready as I'll ever be." She uncrossed her arms to reach out and grab his hands in hers. "I wanted to apologize for the mistake I made in that final piece. I'm sure you expect better from the acts you book."

Aegnor's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Mistake? You sounded perfect to me, my dear."

Bilba's smile faltered. "I missed a note in the final piece. It must have sounded horrid."

"It sounded fine to me," Aegnor said with a shake of his head. He patted her hand. "You're too hard on yourself, my dear. You sounded simply lovely."

Lobelia snorted from behind them and Bilba tensed. Aegnor either didn't notice or ignored it. Instead he simply offered his arm. "Shall we?"

Bilba nodded gratefully and took his arm. The shoes Lobelia had given her were little more than a needle thin heel attached to a paper-thin sole with a few strings to tie them on. They were nearly impossible to walk on and Bilba was convinced her luck would run out any minute and she'd end up snapping an ankle.

Otho appeared on her other side and tried to grab her arm, but Bilba dodged him and put it on Aegnor's forearm instead. She had no doubt she'd pay for the snub later but the last thing she wanted was Otho touching her. He'd never been anything more than a bully and the less she had to interact with him the better. Priscilla fell in behind them, still tapping away on her phone. She'd been posting videos documenting her travels and adventures and had amassed a small following. 

Aegnor led her into a small room near the back of the building where a drop cloth and a camera had been set up. Bilba went to stand in the center of the cloth, smiled at Aegnor in gratitude and then spent a few minutes smoothing her dress and making sure her hair was still put together.

It fell in waves down her back, pulled away from her face by a large gold colored clip set with a red stone. Matching earrings and a necklace pulled it all together. All three items were from her mother's jewelry and had been graciously loaned to her by Lobelia for the evening.

Lobelia, Lotho and Priscilla took up position against the wall while Otho stood behind the camera. He had little to no experience but using him was cheaper than hiring someone. Complaints about blurry and out of focus pictures were ignored.

Outside the door on the other side of the room she could hear the low murmur of voices and was gratified that people had apparently paid the exorbitant price. They'd also had to give up their cell phones to ensure they didn't try and snap a picture on the side. The whole thing was ridiculous, like she was some sort of celebrity instead of a reasonably talented piano player.

Lobelia and Lotho had even tried to capitalize on her relationship to her grandfather, the Thain of the Shire to try and drum up attention, which was downright absurd. The position of Thain had long ago become little more than an honorary title. The true ruler of the Shire was the Mayor of Michel Delving who was elected by the populace.

To hear Lobelia and Lotho talk, however, the Thain was on the same level as any ruler of Middle Earth which made her a de facto princess of the Shire. Her Stepmother used the nonsense to justify prices, convince theaters to book her, encourage people to buy photographs and autographs, and persuade the news to interview her.

It had not been enough to fool Middle Earth's upper crust, which was small enough that they all knew one another, and knew full well that she didn't belong. The most humiliating aspect so far, even past the mostly empty theaters and interviews that no one would watch, were Lobelia's attempts to get invitations to high class balls and events.

Not because of any interest in Bilba going, but because she hoped to launch Priscilla into the upper echelons of society and, in doing so, snag a rich and powerful suitor. Lobelia had even gone so far as to try to demand meetings with the rulers of the various kingdoms, as if Bilba was some sort of visiting dignitary.

The Kings of Gondor, Rohan and Mirkwood had ignored Lobelia's requests, if they'd ever even seen them, and she had no doubt the King of Erebor would do the same. Lobelia sent no requests to Lord Elrond or the Lords of Dale and the Iron Hills as she believed them to be beneath her daughter's notice.

She had her heart set on Priscilla marrying royalty and, granted, the girl was pretty with curly wheat blond hair, green eyes and a figure that had young men in the Shire lining up to court her. What neither she, nor Lobelia seemed to understand, however, was that there were plenty of attractive girls in the royal courts, and they brought not just looks but also power and alliances with them.

Aegnor opened the doors and Bilba reluctantly pulled her mind back to the present as a line of concertgoers shuffled in. She put on a smile and stood as straight as possible as the first person in line came to stand next to her. Smile, make eye contact, respond to whatever was said with generic pleasantries, pose, grit her teeth against the ones who decided to take a few liberties, bid them good-bye and repeat.

She went into a sort of trance, mind wandering as she went through the motions with practiced routine. Her eyes traveled idly along the line of waiting guests, about twenty or thirty which, to date, constituted her biggest crowd by far. Mirkwood was known as a kingdom that put great stock in music and the arts and they'd come to see her in spite of not knowing who she was.

She noticed Priscilla eyeing something intently and followed her gaze to see a group near the end of the line, a young woman about her own age in the company of two young men. The woman's hair was amazing, a brilliant flash of scarlet amidst the various shades of blonds and brunettes. It trailed over her shoulders and down her back in thick, controlled waves.

The dark-haired man was gazing up at her in adoration, seeming oblivious to the world around them. Next to him the blond watched them with bemusement. Both men had the facial hair and braids common to the kingdom of Erebor while the woman had the willowy frame and innate grace most often seen in Mirkwood.

Priscilla was eyeing the blond like a shark that had scented blood in the water. Bilba could admit he was attractive but knew that Lobelia would never allow her daughter anywhere near a commoner. Still, that didn't mean Priscilla wouldn't go in search of a fling and Bilba felt a momentary burst of pity for the man. Priscilla was used to getting what she wanted and tended to throw tantrums when denied.

Her eyes stayed on the small group as they slowly inched closer, watching the ease with which they interacted. The blond leaned in and said something to the dark-haired man who chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder before looping an arm around the woman's waist. She leaned into him and reached out to put a hand on the blond's arm as he laughed at whatever she’d said.

A heaviness settled over Bilba as she found herself wondering what it must be like to have relationships like that. To feel at ease, to have love and affection. She'd had it once, but it had been so long ago, and she'd been so young she could barely remember it. Sometime it felt like it must have been another person entirely, in some other life she'd heard about but not lived.  

The bridge of her nose began to burn, and her vision blurred, just as the group of three stepped up. Bilba focused straight ahead, bringing her eyes level to the blond man's breastbone, and forced a shaky smile. She shook someone's hand and then they were lining up, the blond on her right, the brunette on her left and the redhead on his other side.

Both men put their arms around her waist, taking care to be appropriate she noted, and she put her arms around them in turn. For the briefest of seconds, she allowed herself to pretend, just a little, that this wasn't simply a photo op with complete strangers. That she was a part of this group. That she was loved, cared for, protected.

That she had friends.

Family.

For a split second it was real, and then the flash of the camera went off and it was gone just as quickly.

Bilba realized she'd been holding on to the men far too tight. The blond had moved his hand to her shoulder, fingers warm against the frigid cold that felt like it had leeched into her very marrow. As if from somewhere else, Bilba forced herself to let go and step back. Perhaps she said something, or they did. She wasn't sure.

All she remembered was that, in the end...they left.

And she was alone.

As always. 

Follow on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22263070/chapters/53163472

#Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #My Writing #Hobbit #Tolkien #Bilbo #Female Bilbo #Fili #Genderswap #Modern #AU #Cinderella #Fairy Tale #romance #angst #pianist #stagehand

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Curtains Rise

A JSE Fanfic

Switch AU

Ay, apparently having two AUs in my life just wasn’t enough for me! Last weekend, I created a whole new personality swap AU. I’ve done a few prompts with these boys to get a feel for them (and also cause I already love them), but here’s my first actual fic. JJ and Marvin are at a show that ends up going a bit wrong, and the local vigilante shows up to fix everything. Hope you guys enjoy! :D

The final trick of the magic show left the audience gasping in awe. Fantastic acts of illusion, of blue firefly lights that hovered above their heads, of water that seemed to float and dance in the hair. The masked magician swept his top hat off his head and bowed as the crowd applauded and roared. “Thank you, thank you, you’re too kind!” he said cheerfully, the mic pinned to his tuxedo picking up his voice easily and broadcasting it over the audience’s heads. “It’s time for our intermission now, so please, take ten minutes to get refreshments, use the facilities, and give your children time to stretch their legs. I promise I’ll still be here when you return. Thank you, and have a good evening!” With one final bow, the velvet curtains swept closed.

The magician pulled his mask up so it rested on top of his hair. It was made in the masquerade style, white with purple markings, and a blue outline of a star in the center of its forehead. He rubbed his eyes as the stage crew rushed about, making sure nothing happened to the stage decorations in the first thirty minutes of the show. Hour-long magic shows didn’t usually have an intermission, but the magician felt it was best for him, so that he had time to recharge out of the crowd’s eye.

Speaking of the intermission, he had someone he want to check on. He replaced his top hat but not his mask, and exited stage left. He dodged around scurrying stage crew in black until he found who it was he wanted to see. A man in a brown suit jacket with a green vest underneath, leaning on a wooden cane, was chatting with the stage manager, Darla. The magician strolled up to the pair of them, and the man looked over at him.

“Hello Jems!” The man said with a smile. “The show’s goin’ well so far. I watched it all on the tiny television. You did a good job wit’ t’at last one!”

Jameson Jackson grinned back. Marvin knew he’d been having trouble with that one, so it was good to hear that encouragement. JJ turned to Darla and pointed to the door leading from the backstage area to the dressing room hallway.

“Yes, you should be good to leave,” Darla said. She’d been working with Jameson long enough to interpret him easily when he went silent. “Just be back about a minute before the intermission ends.”

JJ nodded in understanding, then turned to Marvin with a question. “Yes, yes, ‘m comin’,” Marvin said. He shifted his weight off the cane and into a better walking position. “Lead the way.”

The two of them exited the backstage area and entered the warren of hallways the venue had for storage and rooms for the visiting performers to stay. It was low-lit, with gray-blue carpet and matching wallpaper. “How’s everything going for you so far?” JJ asked. “Good first impression of what goes on behind the scenes of the shows?”

“Oh, it’s been grand s’far,” Marvin replied. “Not much has changed from back in the day. Still busy worker bees rushin’ around. Y’even have cameras! And they’re so much better!”

JJ laughed. “Technology has made leaps and bounds. They didn’t have live video back then, did they?”

“They had television,” Marvin said defensively. “But it was a new invention. I’d never t’ink of filming t'at was—was at the same time! Wonderful!” The note of excitement in his voice was evident.

“Well, glad you’re having fun.” Jameson gave Marvin a quick one-armed squeeze. “But now, I must do as I told the audience to and get a snack. I burned up a lot of magic onstage.”

“Oh! I’ll join you! If t’at’s okay.”

“No problem, my friend. After all, you don’t have money on you, remember?”

“Ah. T'at would be a problem.”

The foyer of the venue was crowded with audience members, most of them looking to be in their 30′s or 40′s, going about their business. Getting concessions, disappearing into the bathrooms, making calls on their phones. A lot of them recognized the magician as he came out. Jameson braced himself as he saw them approaching, politely listening to their chatter with a smile and a nod, but no words. Marvin glared at them, edging in between JJ and the spectators. The crowd quickly caught on not to bother JJ, unless they wanted to have his prickly friend shooting daggers of death at them from his eyes.

“Thanks,” JJ whispered under his breath as the two of them approached the concessions stand.

“Why d’you even do these shows if you hate the crowds?” Marvin asked.

“It’s not a problem when they’re far away,” JJ shrugged. “Or when there are too many to look at at once. The problem is in conversation. And besides, why would I not do the shows? That would deprive people of this...this wonder! And amazement! You can hear it in their cheers. No matter their problems or unhappiness, they can find some excitement for just a little.”

Marvin shook his head, a small smile on his face. “Only you woul' say t'at. But I t'ink some of these people need to learn some manners.” He glared at someone. “T’at man there has been lurkin’ in the corner t’is whole time and starin’ at ev’ryone.”

JJ glanced over to the man in question. He was tall and pretty well-built, dressed in a dark suit and standing ramrod-straight with his arms folded. “He’s fine, some people just don’t like to chat.” But if Jameson was being honest, the man was giving him an odd vibe. He shook it off and asked, “So, what treat do you want anyway?”

Marvin didn’t respond. His gaze has switched to the opposite end of the foyer. “There’s another one over there,” he said, faintly surprised. “Wearin’ the same getup and ev'rything.” He glanced around. “There’s more of them. Quite a lot, actu’lly.” All of a sudden, he grabbed Jameson’s arm. “Jems, I t’ink they’re up to no good.”

Jameson gave some of the men Marvin had pointed out a once-over. It was a bit...odd that all of these men were dressed similarly, built similarly, and standing around the edge of the crowd in a similar manner. As he watched, one of them reached inside his suit jacket...

“Marvin!” Jameson squeaked. “We have to get out of here!” He grabbed and tried to pull him away, but he was going too fast and Marvin stumbled, falling into him.

“Jems? What’s happen—”

BANG!

The loud sound of a gunshot rang throughout the venue. One person screamed, and then the crowd started to panic, scattering like rats faced with a hungry cat. In turn, the men in suits fired more shots into the air, pointing the muzzles of their guns at fleeing audience members. “Nobody move!” One of the men shouted. “Nobody’s gonna leave this room unless they want a bullet in their brain!” The crowd stopped trying to leave the foyer and instead clustered in the center.

The man who’d spoken, presumably the leader, presumably marked by the fact that he was the only one wearing a blue tie instead of a black one, yelled again. “All of you, line up against the walls! Sit down! Any sudden moves get fired at. Now!” The crowd hurried to comply.

Marvin and Jameson ended up pressed against the wall near the concessions stand, sitting huddled on the floor. Marvin looked over at his friend with wide eyes. “Ar’ya alrigh’?” he whispered.

JJ nodded. “They weren’t shooting people. But they might.” He shuddered. “Why is this happening? This can’t have anything to do with the show.”

The group of suited men were now in the center of the room, talking among themselves. Jameson narrowed his eyes at them. He muttered some words, and small wisps of blue light curled briefly around his head. Suddenly, the words of the suited men were as clear as if he’d been standing next to him.

“—the police, tell them about the...heh, situation.”

“And don’t forget to mention the demands this time.”

“Or the hostages.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, I get it. One mistake, and you’re branded for the rest of your life.”

“Well, this is the most people we got, most of them rich bastards, so there’s a bit less of a chance for error and a bit more of a chance for a bigger payday we can’t afford to mess up.”

Jameson subtly shook his head to clear the spell away. He leaned a bit closer to Marvin. “Sounds like they’re hoping to get the police to give them something. And so they’re keeping hostages to make sure their demands are met.”

“And t’at’s us?” Marvin’s grip on his cane tightened. “How’re we goin’ t’get outta t’is?”

“I...don’t know. Maybe we can just wait for the police to take care of things.”

“Who’s talking?” The leader of the gang turned around, eyes sweeping the room. “This is your only warning: no more talking, or we might start to feel the room’s a little crowded.”

Dead silence. Marvin and JJ exchanged looks of fear.

All units: we have a hostage situation at the Orchester. I repeat, hostage situation at the Orchester. At least 100 patrons are trapped along with an unknown number of crew. Suspects are armed.

“Volt, you suddenly went quiet. You okay?”

Schneep shook his head. Maybe listening to the police scanner while also trying to have a phone call with Jackie was not a good idea. “Yes, I am fine,” he said. “I just got something interesting on the scanner.”

“Wouldn’t happen to do with the gang that’s threatening the local theatre, would it?”

“Ah...” Schneep coughed uncomfortably. “How do you know that?”

“Rama just turned on the news,” Jackie explained, referencing the name of his spouse. “Anyway, Volt, don’t you dare go check that out.”

“Why not?” Schneep asked, almost whining. “I am already out on patrol. There are people who need help. Seems like easy equation.”

“Well, last time you went out, you basically collapsed of smoke inhalation!” Jackie said sharply. “You barely made it to my house in time! And you’re still recovering, you shouldn’t even have gone out!”

“I am fine, it should not be too difficult.” Schneep was already making his way through the city streets in the direction of the theatre.

“It shouldn’t be—you are one guy going against a gang of multiple armed people. C’mon, dude. You know I’m okay with this in general, but I also don’t want you to die! Let the police take care of this.”

“Sorry, Jackie, I am passing through a tunnel, you are breaking up.”

“Don’t pull that shit on me, Volt, I know you parkour.”

“What? I—kssh—cannot—kssh—hear you I have—kssh—hang—kssh—up.” And with no further words, Schneep hung up on Jackie and tucked the phone into the hidden pocket inside his suit. He was so lucky he wasn’t too far from the Orchester theatre. If he ran, he should be able to make it in a few minutes.

And indeed he did. The place had cops on all sides, which was unfortunate, seeing as how the police weren’t the biggest fan of him. They didn’t look too kindly on vigilantes who ran around with homemade gadgets that were usually much more useful than whatever they had. He’d have to be clever. Luckily, there seemed to be a weak spot in the police’s blockade near the side alley, a stretch where they’d only stationed one officer, who was currently sitting in his car drinking coffee from a thermos. Schneep slipped past him easily, and after a bit of slinking around the edge, he found a side door and slid inside.

The hostages had been trapped inside for an hour. An hour of absolute silence and stillness, watching the gang and the guns they carried. Nobody had managed to get away, not even the stage crew. Apparently the gang had sent members backstage to make sure there was no chance of letting anyone get away.

Marvin and JJ were uncomfortable, to say the very least. And Jameson was started to wonder if there was more he could be doing to help the situation. The problem was that most of his spells were incantation-based, and he didn’t know if he wanted to risk the gang hearing him. He also wasn’t sure if trying out a spell would even help, or if it would just make everything worse.

He was interrupted from his internal debate by Marvin tapping him on the arm. When he gave him a confused look, Marvin carefully and subtly pointed to the balcony with his cane. Jameson turned his attention toward it. The balcony was supposed to lead to the...well, balcony seats, as well as have a few shortcuts for the lighting crew. Nobody was up there, as the gang had forced everyone down to the ground level. Except...somebody was up there, crouching and staring through the railing at the gang below. He was wearing a long gray coat, a blue belt, and blue gloves. A black mask covered the lower half of his face.

Wait...Jameson remembered seeing that outfit on the news. It was that vigilante, Voltage or something like that. JJ’s head whipped back toward Marvin with wide eyes. Marvin shrugged, confused.

They both watched as the vigilante stood up, and with absolutely no warning leaped over the railing and right off the balcony. Amazingly, he landed on his feet, and seemed to be perfectly fine despite a fall from that height being enough to at the very least snap an ankle. “You people are ruining a perfectly good night at the theatre!” he shouted.

Immediately, every single member of the gang turned toward him, guns raised. “Shoot him!” the leader cried.

But Voltage was already moving before the command was even given. The bullets riddled the wall where he’d just been standing, following him across the room. The hostages sitting around the edges screamed, shrinking closer to the ground. “Stay down, all of you!” Voltage shouted, clearly aimed at the hostages. He was now standing next to a large brass pot holding a plant. He kicked it, and it flew across the room much faster than it should have, hurling toward the gang, most of whom scattered.

“I told you to shoot him!” the leader yelled. “Where’d he go?!”

Voltage hadn’t gone anywhere. He’d just followed the path of the pot right into the center of the gang. He grabbed the nearest man from behind. There was a zap, and an arc of blue-white electricity came from Voltage’s gloves. The man fell to the ground, unconscious. Voltage instantly ducked, avoiding a hail of bullets and causing some of the gang members to shoot each other. He launched himself across the floor and grabbed another by the legs, shocking him unconscious too.

There were still too many. Jameson counted. Fifteen left, but four of those had been shot and were clutching their torsos where the wounds were, pretty much out of commission. So eleven left. That was too much. Voltage was good, but it was only through sheer luck that he hadn’t been shot yet. Jameson’s mind whirled, thoughts fueled by adrenaline. He had to do something.

The gang was focused on Voltage, still somehow surviving. Jameson stood up, and crept a bit closer to the fray, hoping to not be noticed. “Jems!” Marvin hissed. “Are you mad?!” When JJ didn’t bother to answer, Marvin growled and started crawling after him.

Jameson took a deep breath, and pulled his mask down onto his face. “Ixáplose, lakoi’vai,” he whispered, kneeling and touching the ground with his fingertips. A puddle of blue magic crept out from the spots where his fingers touched, spreading rapidly across the floor, heading straight for the conflict. Once the puddle reached the men’s feet, they slipped. One by one, falling and crashing to the ground. Except for Voltage, who was standing in the middle of the magic puddle perfectly alright, if shocked. His eyes followed the path of the puddle back to its source, and even under the mask JJ could see the surprise and shock on his face.

Still, Voltage recognized an opportunity, and by the time the remaining members of the gang had gotten to their feet and scrambled away from the puddle, another seven had been shocked to unconsciousness. “What the fuck?!” shouted one of the men.

The leader did the same thing Voltage did and followed the magic’s path. “You!” he roared. “I don’t know what the fuck you did, but you’ll pay!” He raised his gun.

JJ dove to the side, managing to avoid getting killed, though he felt a streak of pain, and looked down to see the bullet had grazed his arm. He scrambled back to his feet, gasping out a basic shield spell just in time for bullets to ricochet oft the sudden blue icy barrier. He closed his eyes, simply concentrating on keeping the shield up. He heard what was happening: more gunshots, more shouting, more footsteps, more electric zaps.

Until: “Stop right there, or I swear I’ll blow his brains out!”

The room went silent. JJ opened his eyes to see that all the gang members had been knocked out except for three and the leader. Voltage was standing, frozen, in the middle of the room, staring at the leader and—Jameson felt his heart stop. The shield spell flickered and died. “Marvin!” he gasped.

The gang leader was holding Marvin close to him with one arm, and holding a gun to the side of his head with the other. Marvin himself only looked sort of annoyed, but Jameson knew him well enough to see the way his hands were trembling, holding his cane tight for comfort. The leader turned to look at Jameson. “This a friend of yours, huh?” he sneered. “Well, get back to where you’re supposed to be and stop this freaky shit, and he’ll be fine.”

“Do not tell him what to do!” Voltage yelled. JJ was faintly surprised at the accent in his voice. “I thought your fight was with me!”

“Well, you too,” the leader shrugged. “Leave this place, and nobody gets hurt. Or you can take off your shocky gloves and join the others around the wall, I’m not too picky.”

Voltage laughed dryly. “Ah yes, your one redeeming quality. You think I will just leave all these people here?!”

“I dunno, it’s kinda hard to tell with—”

The leader didn’t get to finish his sentence. Marvin had adjusted the way he was holding the cane, and then slammed the end of it down into the leader’s foot. He yelped, and his grip loosened just enough for Marvin to pull away and land sprawling on the floor. “You little—” the leader didn’t get to finish that one either, or finish aiming the gun at Marvin like he’d started to, because all of a sudden a shard of blue magic came flying out of nowhere and hit him in the head. He stumbled, and looked around as if he’d forgotten what he was doing. This entire sequence was just long enough for Voltage to charge forward and zap the leader out cold.

Voltage spun around and glared at the three remaining gang members. “Well?” he demanded. The men dropped their guns and raised both hands in the air. “That’s what I thought. Kick those away from you.” They did so. Voltage nodded once, then addressed the room at large. “I will open the front doors in a moment. I advise you all to leave once that happens. And do not be afraid to relax now.” Gradually, the crowd began chattering again. Voltage began kicking all the gang members’ guns into a little pile, occasionally shooting glares at the ones remaining conscious.

JJ rushed forward, kneeling next to Marvin. “Marvin! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fuckin’ fantastic. Got t’reatened to end up in the ground, gave a man the stomp, then he got bumped in the head after his whole gang got a beatin’, and now me legs stopped workin’. Average day.”

Jameson laughed. Yep, Marvin was fine. “Good to hear it. Need some help?”

“N...possibly.” Marvin let JJ grab him by the hand and help him up, though he stumbled and ended up leaning on JJ much more than he wanted to.

Voltage walked over to the two of them. “You are okay?” he asked.

“We’re fine,” JJ said with a quavery smile. “Thank you for all your help.”

“It is no problem. I am just doing what is the right thing. But usually...” he gave Jameson a scan with his eyes. “...Usually in these situations I do not meet someone who can do things like that.”

“Oh, ah...” JJ laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, I can’t really explain it. It’s just...something I’ve been born with. Magic, that is.”

“Hmm...” Voltage put his hands on his hips. “I did not think magic was real, but after this...”

“It’s not your beeswax, Mister Voltage,” Marvin growled, giving the hero a prompt whack on the shoulder with his cane topper. Unfortunately, that meant he suddenly lost a support to lean on, and he fell onto JJ, who stumbled before regaining his balance.

���Excuse me, that is Von Voltage.” The words were lacking the snap they were probably intended to have. Voltage was too busy watching JJ struggle to keep Marvin upright. “You did not get your little legs injured during this whole thing, did you?”

“Wh—no,” Marvin said, looking mildly offended. “This is an...unrelated issue. I’ve dealt with it for a long time, nothin’ you need t’concern with.”

Voltage gave him a skeptical look. Then he reached inside a coat and pulled out a phone. Apparently those gloves of his were able to interact with the touch screen just fine. “Well, if that is the case, I am going to give you a phone number. It is not one you have to use, but if you ever need a good doctor I have a friend who would love to assist.”

“I don’ have a phone,” Marvin muttered.

“But it’s okay, because I do.” Jameson awkwardly rummaged around one-handed in his pockets before pulling out said phone. “What’s the number and the name?”

He quickly typed in the number Voltage recited. “His name is Dr. Jackie Parker,” the hero explained. “Is a very good doctor, and I know he will not turn away a person in need.”

“Ah...thank you,” Marvin said quietly. He looked a little shocked at the turn of events. Jameson hoped he would actually consider contacting the doctor. Marvin was one of the most stubborn people he knew, and he didn’t want that to impact his health.

“Is no problem,” Voltage waved it off. “And now, if you excuse me, I am going to open the front doors real quick and then leave right after. Police are not too fond of me.” And with that, he strolled away.

JJ looked at Marvin, who was still basically putting all his weight on him. “Do you want to stand up or sit down.”

“I can—I can stand.” With some effort and the help of his cane, Marvin managed to regain his balance. “T’is has cert’inly been...a night.”

“Tell me about it. Probably my most eventful show, though not in a good way. I do hope that not a lot of people saw what was going on with the magic. Hopefully the police will attribute it to shock. They’re also going to want to check you for shock too, given the whole gun thing.”

“Shock? I don’ understand. Von Voltage didn’ touch me.”

Jameson paused. “No, like...like shellshock? That was a thing back then, right?”

“Ohhhh.”

“They’ll probably give you one of those shock blankets.”

“I get a free blanket?!” Marvin looked oddly excited at the prospect.

JJ laughed. “No, no, you don’t get to keep it. It’s property of the police.”

“Aw.” Marvin glanced over to the front entrance of the venue. “The doors are openin’. Ready to face the world?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Come on, let’s go outside finally.”

“Volt...” Jackie sounded exhausted on the other end. “I can’t believe you actually did that.”

Schneep, watching the police scene around the theatre from on top of a nearby rooftop, sighed. “Well, you would not expect better of me, would you?”

“I really shouldn’t, but I always do. How’s your breathing? The lingering effects of the smoke didn’t bother you?”

“Ah, a little bit of tightness, but I am fine.”

“If I ever find out you’re lying, you do realize I’m going to strap you to your bed and force you to rest.”

“Well, I do now.” Schneep fell silent for a moment, watching the former hostages being helped and talked to by the cops. “I saw...the most unusual thing tonight, Jackie. I do not know how else to describe it than...magical.”

“Really?” Jackie asked, intrigued.

“Also I gave someone your phone number.”

“What?!” Now Jackie sounded less intrigued and more mad. “Henrik, for the love of god. Not only is that a bad idea because of the general ‘don’t give phone numbers to strangers’ rule, but also whoever it is now knows you’re somehow connected to me!”

“Trust me Jackie, the two of them are good people. And they...seemed in need of a bit of help.” Though that one in the jacket and vest also seemed pretty obstinate. “Now, do you want to hear about this magic I saw or should I show up at your house in full Von Voltage gear and give your family a heart attack?”

“Michelle would be excited to know her honorary uncle is a real live superhero,” Jackie said thoughtfully. “But yeah, Rama would freak out. So, tell me the story of what happened.”

“You are going to want to sit down for this one,” Schneep said, grinning.

And as the evening faded completely into night, a new life dawned on the four who’d been touched that day. None of them knew where it was heading, but they all knew things would never be the same again.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #dr schneeplestein #jackieboy man #brigid writes fanfiction #septicswitchau #the jaunty jackson #1920s marvin #dr. jackie parker #von voltage

[omoghouls-writes]

👀 Is there any way I can request some Copia with nervous wetting? Maybe like during or after his first show or something?

Omg absolutely??? 🌻💖

He fiddled anxiously with his grucifix as the time ticked on. It was almost time for the Cardinal's first performance on stage. He glanced to his left, catching a quick glimpse of the rolling oxygen tank rounded a corner.

Unlike the predecessors to the project, Grand papa Nihl was still the leader of the church and Cardinal? Cardinal was simply the apprentice, the one to pull the people in. But, Nihl still made the calls, he choice what routes would be taken. He held the strings of this puppetry.

That's what gave Copia the tight chested feeling. There was so much that could go wrong, he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't disappoint his dark excellency.

"Cardinal!"

Cardinal Copia jumped from the voice, he turned on his heels coming face to face with Sister Imperator.

" 'a-allo, Sister." He said, waving slightly as he watched her move her hands from her hips.

"Cardinal, might I be the first to give you good luck for tonight."

Copia swallowed dryly, "Thank you, your dark excellency."

Sister squinted at the clergy member for a moment.

"Are you nervous?"

He glanced to the side for a moment before stiffly nodding. Knowing it was not best to lie to the head Sister.

Sister smiled warmly, a rare glimpse for anyone to witness.

"Oh you have nothing to be nervous over! Just, do your best." She said, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze before disappearing into the back.

Although the guestre was an attempt to calm his nerves, it felt, hallow in a sense. Sending chills down his spine as he peaked past the small crack in the curtains. 

Copia swallowed his shakey breath as his eyes wandered to his left side. The Ghoul was silently plucking at the strings of his guitar. The fire ghoul stopped, looking up to the man.

"Cardinal?"

The man straightened out when he heard the voice, "Ah, ghoul-"

"Ghoul? We not on first name basis anymore?"

Copia's face fell as he tried to retract his previous comment. The ghoul chuckled and shook his head as he walked over to the man.

"I was nervous my first time on stage, light n' the crowds of devotees, can fuck you right up. But, I got somethin' to calm those nerves."

The Cardinal looked curiously to the ghoul as he rummaged around, pulling out a thermos.

Copia gave a cautious sniff of the bottle, "This isn't alcohol is it?"

The fire ghoul's shook his head, "Nah, I know the rules, 'spesh after the time little drummer boy got into it," he paused, going back on track, "it's tea, something Mountain always carries 'round, gets those preshow jitters down, here," the guitarist said, pressing the cup into the man's hand. 

The Cardinal hesitantly took a sip, then a gulp when the sweetness of the mint hit his tounge.

"Thank you, Feu."

The ghoul shrugged as he took the thermos back, "No problem, now, in position," he said as he watched the man walk away.

The fire ghoul went back to plucking at his strings, pausing once more when he heard the shuffling of feet.

"No, Rain," he said without looking up at the ghoul attempting to grab the thermos.

"But-"

"You'll piss yourself on stage if you drink that tea, you know that."

--

The scent of incense clung to his cassock as the Cardinal walked off the stage. It was intermission. The man gave a soft sigh, feeling his heart pounding in his chest as he finally had a moment of silence, or, as much silence one could have at a venue. Copia yelped as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"So, the tea work for ya?" 

The Cardinal looked at the fire ghoul with a soft chuckle as he nodded, "Surprisingly, yes."

Feu shrugged, "Nothin' surprising 'bout it, earth ghouls got that knack to 'em, adding that, ghoulish magic to it," he explained as he held the thermos out to the man, shaking what was left as an offer.

Copia nodded, "Well, whatever that magic might be, I will have to give him much kudos," he said as he took the mug, downing what was left, setting the thermos down as he went over to dress for the next half. He paused in his steps as he passed the backstage washroom, shaking his head as he continued on. 

--

How did the Emeritus' do this? Keeping a flirtatious attitude while they spoke to the crowd with such teasing remarks. The Cardinal chuckled nervously as the people agreed to his joke of screwing them all as opposed to one last song. As he stood in the middle of the stage, his nerves started to get the best of him, his face flushing a light pink as his words began to jumble, causing the audience to laugh. 

That was when he felt it, the frantic warning pang that had been coming from his lower abdomen finally made itself known. His bladder sloshed like a over filled water balloon as he tried to walk around the stage to keep his composure, to keep his act up. Copia stopped, like a deer in headlights. He pressed his legs together as his bladder slowly released a long stream, soaking his inner thighs. He gulped, looking back to the crowd.

"A-ah but you wouldn't want that! No? Nooo," Copia said as he shuffled closer to side, giving the signal to start. He held his breath for a moment before starting himself.

As the song dwindled into it's hushed silence, the Cardinal couldn't get off stage fast enough. Blood pumped between his ears as he shakily placed the microphone down, his knees buckling as his bladder gave no mercy to the man. The black slacks began to glisten in the harsh stage lights that shone meer feet away from him. Copia let out a shaky breath as the concert long hold of tea pooled around his feet.

Tears brimmed in his eyes as his chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch a regulated pattern as he felt the empty ache and beating heart that was left.

His first show and he wet himself.

The Cardinal anxiously glanced, seeing the ghoul's about to leave the stage. With quick haste he scurried off, back to the tour bus to wash and clean before the ghoul's came back.

--

"Figures," Swiss said under his breath as he looked around the back stage, "All these higher ups are all the same huh? Say they'll stay behind then go off."

The fire ghoul began to agree, freezing in his motions as he stepped in a puddle. He glanced down, moving his gaze down the hall, watching the trail of urine. 

"Nah, he ain't like 'em, least not entirely. Think he just, had something to discuss with Papa and Sister Imperator," the fire ghoul gave.

The other ghouls blinked slowly at the rational thoughts of the relatively fiery speaking ghoul. They all nodded slowly before heading back to the tour bus.

As they walked, Feu made a mental note to share his drink with neither Rain /or/ the Cardinal.

#Omorashi #omocute #nsfc #nameless ghouls #cardinal copia #mail

[justasmallbloginabigklainefandom]

Rec This Thing: Interactive Introverts

Interactive Introverts in Amsterdam RAI, evening show on June 2nd

Story: Dan and Phil decided to give the people what they want.

My Story: Okay, fun fact, I bought my ticket on June 1st. When they first announced their tour, my friend Sammy immediately bought tickets for her and her sister and she asked me to come along.

I declined.

After all, I wasn’t that big of a fan of Dan and Phil and I decided that people who are actual fans of them could have my possible ticket. Fast forward a couple of weeks and I became fan of them and both shows were sold out. Yup. Bummer. Instant regret. Total sadness. So Sammy promised to tell me everything yada yada since I couldn’t go. Then just over 24 hours before the show, Sammy sent me a message that there were five seats left for €55.

Crap.

Okay, I decided to do it. Fuck work the day after. Let’s go. And boy, am I glad I did.

Rating (1 to 10): 9

Why?: QUITE DETAILED SHOW SUMMARY UNDER CUT, SPOILERS!

Alright, yup, I’m just going to write down everything, including the entire show. Or at least what I remember cause holla, this is done from memory.

Basically, we arrived in Amsterdam after a lot of panic because my bus didn’t drive so we were about to miss our train. I ran back home and yelled to mum to grab the car (called Snuit) cause HOLY FUCK MY BUS IS 6 MINUTES LATE AND WITH THE NEXT BUS I WILL MISS MY TRAIN FOR SURE.

But okay, Amsterdam. We got there around four? First we checked out the venue, which wasn’t hard to find because their matinee show had just ended, so we just had to follow the stream of fans who were leaving, and then we had dinner at this Japanese place. Then around 18:30 we were back at the venue. Only VIP was allowed to go in already, so we decided to buy merch. The place was packed, so they decided to already open the merch stand. Good thing we got merch (I got a poster) before the show, because other merch was sold during intermission and after the show. Almost no one got merch during intermission, because it was only 20 minutes long, and after the show the line was insane. Probably 2,5+ hours wait time.

We found our seats. We got split up. Sammy and her sister had a great seat (row 9) and I sat on the other side of the theatre in a balcony seat which was fucking great as well. They put on Dan’s playlist and that playlist was banging. Sometimes, Dan’s Siri interrupted. I mean, they were playing Hard Times when I entered the theatre- great start. 

And of course they came on stage after Welcome To The Black Parade.

First we had a video kinda introducing danis not on fire and AmazingPhil and then they came in on a moving plaform. Like, their set was so minimalistic but also so great?

After the “Hello! Hi!” stuff they talked about being in Amsterdam (”Amsterdamn” - Phil) and how Phil is feeling a bit sick because he decided to eat tons of stroopwafels (strupwaffles, they called it). Dan called him out, because when you buy a pack of stroopwafels, they are obviously not supposed to be eaten at the same time.

Oh, and those poor foreigners aren’t used to shit ton of bikes in Amsterdam (or in the entire Netherlands tbh) so they were talking about how they almost got killed by bikers while crossing the road. 

They were obviously telling us what to expect and all of that.

Then first, What are we not going to do. They acted out everything they were not going to do. I only remember the erotic roleplay, because they did cop roleplay and it was fucking hilarious (”Please be gentle with those handcuffs, I have sensitive skin” - Dan), and the part where they dressed up as their cute pastel versions.

Truth Bombs came next. Phil got asked something among the lines of: “What Olympic sport would Phil excel in?”

Keeping houseplants alive

I forgot.

SPORTS??? LMFAO!

(If anyone’s reading this… if you happen to know the missing parts cause you were at the same show, hit me up.)

Phil said something about how avoiding bikes in Amsterdam is a sport and then he procceeded to jump over the small hexagon on stage. He chose the houseplants.

Dan’s question was: “What is in Dan’s browser history?” 

Fursuits (I think???)

I also forgot.

Something with Shrek 

Which was ironic, because Shrek the Musical played at the RAI. I don’t remember what Dan chose.

Then, “How will they die?” 

Demonetization

They fall off stage in a few minutes

I forgot….

Honestly, they kept talking about demonetization during the entire show. Every time they said something too raunchy, they’d say something like “We’re getting demonetized.”

I think the Simulator came next? Anyway Phil started out with ordering a unicorn frappuchino and he ended up being killed by Satan cause he tried make a deal with him to restore his twitter account after accidentally posting a sexy photo of himself in his pants. We cheered for Satan, and they kept reminding us of that during the entire show. 

Dan was outside for once and got approached by a furry, did body shots of an otter, and ended up dying in an underground furry rave after he decided to use the ladies’ restroom.

After that, Phil synced us all as Linda, so hooray, we were all Linda. Now as Linda, we could continue to the magic trick and the audience participation. What is hidden in the mysterious box that Dan hid under his bed? Our three answers were: cereal, a panda, a fursuit. 

I still don’t know how they did this trick. The box was unopened on stage all the time. Sammy and I first came up with this special electronic paper, but then we realised Phil gave it to audience members to rip it up and fight about it.

I only remember three questions asked during the Survey. There was apart about their favourite content and Dan was very happy to present it as a pie chart. Also “Do you think you know Dan and Phil?”

Yes

No

Who is Dan and Phil?

After joking about how all the parents answered the last answer, they noticed a small percent still answered no, and they talked about authenticity on YouTube and sure, they put themselves out there because they want to entertain people, but that they are still genuinely themselves and that they’re not faking it. But if you wanted to see the non-entertaining version of them, you’d be bored. (”On my sofa, with an overheated laptop on my crotch and a bag of crisps under my chin and me trying to eat them with my tongue cause I’m lazy” - Dan).

Then, of course the “Dan or Phil?” question and they presented the wheel and they made the most dramatic act one exit I’ve ever seen, and I am a Broadway fan.

During intermission, the two women next to me were talking about merch and I told them where to find it. Then I exited the theatre. Sammy’s sister bought Pringles and I bought M&Ms and the three of us were kinda shocked to see the queue for the merch stand. Those poor fuckers.

We went back to the theatre and I talked about the merch again, because I happened to know the whole merch stand and its prices by heart after looking at it for 45 minutes (hoodie €40, sweater €30, wristband €5, poster €10, Dan and Phil plushies €25, denim jacket €65, two t-shirts €20 and €25, keycord or whatever it is called €10, cap €15, woops I still know it).

Back to the show! Phil was on the wheel and Dan used a slingshot, a bow and arrow, and a bazooka. And afterwards Phil was showing off his ass while taking off that white body suit. He said he was dizzy and Dan dared him to jump over the hexagon again, but Phil refused.

Okay anyway the next thing I remember is the wholesome Daniel and X-Rated Lester part (”I’m already feeling naughty” - Phil). In the beginning they had this whole talk about authenticity and how they are still humans bla which was really cool. Since I am a recent fan, I completely missed the actual wholesome Daniel craze, but yeah, they talked about how they are actual people and sometimes, they don’t meet certain expectations of fans.

Also, at one point in the show, Dan was talking about God and he yelled “Spite me, daddy!” and I think it was around this moment. The entire crowd yelled.

Alright Dan had to sweet talk disturbing fan fiction, Hello Internet, and another thing uuuuhm. I don’t remember. Anyway, he kept saying “Oh for God’s sake!”, especially at the Hello Internet one.

Phil had to bad mouth cute animals, endless kittens (he failed), and ugh I have also forgotten his last one. The person who sent in cute animals sat in front of me and it was just absolutely amazing to see how happy she was to see her submission on screen.

Then the Dan vs. Phil friendship game. There was a lot of stuff, but I remember some. I can’t believe they shocked each other, but maybe that is because I’d read the Milgram Experminent earlier that week.

First, psychic connection. They both had to name the same number between 1 to 20 and they failed. 

Then a dilemma. Dan got the dilemma: “Guest star in Infinity War 4 or Phil gets thrown in a pool of cheese?”

Phil had to choose between: “A billion dollars or Dan will never be able to see dogs again?” According to Phil, he’d buy two big airplanes and then merge them together for an ever bigger airplane.

Then the Dan or Phil or Rat. They both got it right. Phil just got a photo of something white, but he guessed that it was his own pale skin and Dan got some hairs and he guessed that it was a rat.

Trivia. Dan needed to name 3 pre-2008 Phil videos and succeeded. Dan thanked Phil for uploading his newest video about his his old deleted stuff. Phil needed to recall the kind of cake that Colin ruined and failed.

There was probably more to Dan vs. Phil but I am blanking. Phil got the big shock (”I’m Phil trash no. 1!″ - Dan).

Then the intimate moment. Or personal. Phil called it intimate and Dan just went “PERSONAL? DON’T CALL IT INTIMATE, IT’S PERSONAL” and then proceeded to point out that Phil has a degree in English language.

It was just so down to earth. There were three questions, and I remember two. The first person asked for an appropriate name for their zoo animal YouTube channel. I forgot the name they recommended, but they said it was great that this person had a clear theme.

I remember one person saying that she wants to be a singer but her parents want her to go into medicine and well first they were like “hey singing doctor!”. But they talked about how passion is important and how they both didn’t do what was expected and how they are much happier now (“Lawyer Dan is as awful as a singing doctor!” - Dan) but I unfortunately forgot the other two questions. It was just a really nice moment where both Dan and Phil just sat down to have a chat. Oh and they also talked about Phil’s apparent awful handwriting.

Then the power came back on and I think that is when the Awards happened? Glitter jackets af and a self-made statue (”Two naked men in bondage really represents Dan and Phil” - Phil, or something like that.)

The first category was: Best dressed pet as Dan and Phil.

A lizard wearing a flower crown while watching the video of Black Parade won.

A cat wearing Dan’s merch.

I don’t even know but it looked like Dan was riding Phil so that was that. I suppose it was a dog.

And then Most inaccurate expectation of the show

I fucking forgot first place.

Two hour long Hamilton reenaction with Chris Evans.

Them giving birth on stage.

Also the most annoyed parent was just incredibly funny. I remember the winners but hey I don’t feel comfortable just sharing their names cause… privacy. I know the winner sat on the second row and all kids were pointing at her and I guess Dan and Phil saw her and said: “This was probably the worst day of your life, thank you for sharing it with us!” “You probably thought you were seeing Shrek the Musical.”

And then back to the scripted part, aka the Big Finale. A dog video that has nothing to do with the show, PHIL’S DISS TRACK, Dan at the piano, and them singing a duet. This ain’t Broadway, but it was still kinda nice and just sweet.

And well, that is it. They runned around on stage, waving at everyone, saying goodbye. Then they stepped on their moving platform and they disappeared.

Some random things:

Phil kept calling a part of the set a “flap” which annoyed Dan.

Dan… just… couldn’t… stop… dabbing…

They hinted at a new gaming video that involves a lot of Dan’s screaming - coming next week.

So many pride flags in the crowd.

Phil and Dan sounds wrong.

There was one moment where a picture of Dan’s had pasted on a horse from My Horse Prince appeared with a text bulb saying “Ride me, senpai” but I don’t remember when that happened. I think before the Simulator?

Interactive Introverts kind of reminded me of Hedwig and the Angry Inch. There’s clearly a format and a script, but thanks to audience participation, no shows are the same.

But in all seriousness, as my friend Rowan @rothetree pointed out, the entire message of this show was about how Dan and Phil are just human. As Ro put it: “On a serious note, there’s a whole underlying theme to this show, which was them basically going “Hey, we’re real people, stop objectifying us"”. This felt so in line with what the three of us were talking about. Me, Sammy and Sammy’s sister had to endure a two hour train ride and we talked a lot about fandom’s perception on real life people they stan and how they sometimes reduce those people to the image they have in their minds.

Cause we were talking about stuff like real life shipping, and about how celebrities are being seen, and how the moment they do something the fans don’t like, you get all those moments of “X is not real anymore!”

Newsflash asshole, they are people with feelings, and just because you don’t want to see those feelings, doesn’t mean they don’t have them. For example, Sammy was talking about how one K-POP star basically got stalked at an airport and when he clearly showed his dislike of it, people were all “OH MY GOD HE DOESN’T LIKE HIS FANS HE IS SO RUDE HE’S NOT WHO WE THOUGHT HE WAS” and I gave the example of people saying Darren is “no longer himself” after he called out the people who are seriously threatening his fiancée and all that stuff.

Before the show started, we overheard two other fans talking about how they should come out bla bla bla, and just… no? That is so personal and we are not entitled to that at all? 

To quote Ghostly, they are not our dolls. We can’t dress them up in whatever way we want.

I recently read I Was Born For This by Alice Oseman, which follows a band from the fans’ POV and through the band’s POV and how sometimes those things clash, and I feel like with Interactive Introverts, Dan and Phil wanted to show people who they are to avoid a clash like that. That’s why they kept talking about how they value authenticity, while they are aware of the fact that they are also putting on a show. Or how, when people have certain images of them, how unrealistic those images can be and that they cannot live up to the expectations, and therefore it is important for fans to realise that. The tagline is: “Giving the people what they want!” and they did that without having to change for the fans’ sake.

As Rowan (rothetree, not Rowan from the book I Was Born For This) said: "we don’t own their image or expect too much from them. Something about their interactions with us is changing in a really good way."

Because that exactly.

Since I am a recent fan and I got my ticket one day before the show, I wasn’t aware of the questions, but in the “Do you think you know Dan or Phil?” (as they said: or do you think we’re people putting up a whole show) I would’ve answered a solid “no”, because I always think it’s dangerous to say that you know a celebrity, but after this show, I’d vote “yes”, because the way they acted on stage and the way they conveyed their message of “yes, we’re putting on a show right now because we want to entertain you guys, but we still care about authenticity” was well done.

And that is what made this show so great and enjoyable. Yes, it was a show and there were scripted parts, but it was still very genuine.

Recommend?: Yes, please, just like TATINOF, put it online for sale!

#interactive introverts #ii spoilers #rec this thing #rtt: theatre show #dan and phil #dnp adam

[denbroughbill]

the concert hcs no one asked for

✿ they don't all have a similar interest in music, but they always love hanging out for a good show ✿ all of them attend the harder shows richie goes to (and they always go to the house shows his tiny band puts on) and they always go to eddie's softer shows where people sway and hold lighters high

✿ richie has one of those apps that alerts you when bands announce tour dates and he sends the screenshot to the group chat and buys his ticket immediately and probably bill's too ✿ mike buys ben and eddie's just out of some kind of habit and sends the recipt screenshot and says "don't worry about it, guys." ✿ beverly buys hers last minute and stan always waits until the door opens to buy his ticket at box office

✿ they either pile in ben's car or split between bill's and beverly's. ben's car is the biggest but if they split, they can do snack runs while waiting for doors to open

✿ they always get to the venue hours early for barricade! even if it's a band just one of them like, they will always go early

✿ they always pick up beverly last because she takes so long perfecting her make up, even though it'll sweat off during the show anyways

✿ beverly and eddie are the ones who compliment girls in line and strike up conversations

✿ mike probably brings a deck of cards and him, richie, and ben play a million games of speed and gold fish while waiting in line

✿ stan and bill are the ones who do snack runs, but they're always nice to ask all the other people waiting in line if they want them to pick up something for them too

✿ alright if they're waiting for one of richie's shows, eddie acts like he's not interest but doors open and he fucking runs to barricade. it's mostly to record good footage while richie's in the pit or something but a little bit of it is because he doesn't really want to get in the pit himself

✿ bill hangs out at barricade with eddie for a couple songs but can't contain himself by like the fourth song and ends up being the first person to crowd surf probably and the crowd goes freaking bananas

✿ beverly hangs out at the bar for a the first couple songs and waits it out until the pit gets crazy and that's when she jumps in

✿ the losers dared mike once that he wouldn't stage dive and he totally jumped from a baloncy one night and got kicked out

✿ another time, ben mentioned how fun crowd surfing looked and eddie didn't skip a beat when he said "I WOULD NEVER" so ben and stan picked him up and just chunked him in the crowd lmao. now he loves it and does it at every show

✿ stan is the kind who keeps his arms crossed and nods a long to all the shows real aggressive like, and you would never guess him to be the kind to crowd kill

✿ you can bet your ass all of the losers are lined up at barricade pointing and shoving each other elbow's to all of the songs!

✿ okay imagine ben hard dancing and two stepping in the pit aw and bill and mike never give each other mercy and fuck each other up in the pit and always leave with bruises

✿ all the boys helping cute girls and boys up to crowd surf! encouraging the crowd to have fun and not to be scared to start the pit or scream

✿ beverly and ben always cheer the loudest and get noticed by the band

✿ you ever been to a show and during intermission or while the vocalist is talking, some drunk guy in the back cheers for no reason? richie (who’s sober) and mike (who’s wasted)

✿ alright the whole crew loves georgie and take him to his first show and they just thought he was gonna hang tight at barricade until they hear the crowd cheering and look up at the stage and it's little tiny georgie jumping into the crowd and he glides across like a literal angel and bill thinks his younger brother is the coolest ever

✿ five minutes later bill tries crowd surfing but he's so tall and gangly and awkward, everyone moves out of the way and he falls face first. he jumps up with a gnarly nose bleed and cheers really loud with his fists in the air and the whole place cheers and the vocalist on stage is laughing and gives him a thumbs up (georgie promises not to tell their parents about the incident after he gets cleaned up)

✿ because there's so many of them, they always have a great chance of catching a setlist or a guitar pick or something real cool

✿ the losers always pick up eddie to get the band's attention lmao and it works a good percentage of the time

✿ locals hate them honestly because they always get a memento but who cares

✿ okay eddie is a small fireball and he grabs richie and mike by the wrists and drag them outside the venue with everyone following behind so they can be first outside to meet the band

✿ sometimes they only have to wait minutes, sometimes they wait hours and huddle together outside with stan's head on ben's shoulder half way asleep to meet the band

✿ ALSO they definitely go to ben's boy band shows and go all out

✿ they're all wearing matching band shirts and hats and temporary tattoos

✿ and stan and eddie are holding a glittery sticker posts they made all by themselves

✿ they splurge for floor seats instead of balcony and help ben decorate his car for the show and write on the windows with those washable paints like "bieber fever" lmao or things like that ya know

✿ they always eat at waffle house or any local 24/7 break diner and bill has really bad post concert depression for the next two weeks. if he took a picture with a band member he keeps it in his wallet or something

#long post #losers club #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #beverly #eddie kaspbrak #stan uris #richie tozier #hcs

[floatedtoofar]

Taking Pennywise to a GWAR show (Human looking Pennywise x Reader)

Got the idea to do this a little while back but I suck at gathering my thoughts and I actually waited for GWAR to come to my town again (saw them over the summer) for “research”. Mad props to @ruintt who has since deactivated their blog (rest in peace) I don’t know if you’re reading this but you helped a lot! Even if I didn’t use some ideas. I thought about it, I really did! I just couldn’t figure out how to make it coherent. Thank you again though, seriously!!🖤

Warnings: none really.. a lot of fake blood. If you don’t like or haven’t been to a rock or metal show this may seem nuts and excessive?? Small mention of sex at the end. This is a pretty long hc but I hope I don’t lose anyone

You explain and warn him a couple days beforehand about the energy, moshing, head banging, crowd surfing, and the like. “So people just run into each other, thrash their limbs and heads around, and act erratic on purpose?” “Sure, as long as you’re not a dick about it and you play nice with others it’s cool. The crowd surfing sucks sometimes because I always get heavy people flying over me and if I’m not holding them up myself I’m getting feet and asses to the face, but I’m sure it’s tons of fun for them. Oh, it’s going to get real messy.” He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows in question. “You’ll see. Remind me to put some towels in the car.” His head jerks back, bells jingling, and he raises an eyebrow to look at you with uncertainty, shock, and concern.

You show him what GWAR looks like. “What’s with their outfits and faces?” You point at your phone screen and explain, “Well, their official website says they’re from the deepest reaches of outer space. It’s said that long ago, the beings who would become GWAR were part of an elite fighting force, called the Scumdogs of the Universe and for eons, they served a supreme being known only as the Master, but one by one each future member of the band earned a glaring reputation for being an intergalactic fuck-up. So, they were banished, sent away on a fool’s errand to conquer an insignificant shitball floating in a dark corner of the universe; the planet Earth. Once here, GWAR shaped the face of the globe, destroying and rebuilding the natural world, and giving rise to all of human history. Aliens to some, gods and demons to others, they mated with apes to create the human race.” He scoffs and bears a look of absolute disbelief. “That’s completely ridiculous! Such human filth!” You chuckle at his response and he asks what’s so funny. “Nothing, it’s just that that’s what they call us too.”

The day of the show you get to the venue and the line is long and only gets longer and longer but you had the sense to be there earlier so it’s not too bad, but it doesn’t stop Pennywise from complaining about how you’ve been out for forever already. He’s antsy and you have to remind him to keep in check at least until you get inside.

Finally the line starts moving and you’re inside pretty fast. You get a quick lay of the land, noting all the black plastic bags covering everything like the backs of the stacks of speakers hanging from the ceiling and on the stage, the balcony that wraps all around the floor area, the sound board, and the barricades, and make a bee line for what looks like a good spot near the front, away from what you know will turn into a mosh pit (like he needs twice the excuse to completely lose it), holding his hand and dragging him behind you.

After waiting a little while the opening band starts and you bob your head and sway your hips to the music, heavier than you might normally because they were a heavier band. You can tell that Pennywise doesn’t really know what to think and do, eyes darting everywhere, does he look at the people on stage, their lightning fast hands, the multicolored lights flashing, the crowd, or you? When he does finally look at you his eyes light up and he smiles while he watches you move. You look at him, smile, and shout over the bass, “Dance!” He chuffs out a laugh and shakes his head. You laugh too and grab his sides to try to sway him. It’s not easy but he smirks and does it just a little bit to appease you. After a while you notice that he’s doing it on his own and his movements seem to be a little more sincere. You’re not even sure he’s aware that he’s doing it.

The band ends their set and you turn to face Pennywise the best you can in the crowd and ask what he thought. He just nods and says he didn’t hate it. He doesn’t seem as unsure as he was before, but you think he just doesn’t want to admit that he’s having a better time than he thought he’d have.

The next band sets up their own equipment and he asks why there’s obviously a ton of stuff behind it all on stage, covered up. “That’s probably mostly GWAR’s stage props. TV screens, drums, whatever machinery they’ll use.. and a little of the third band’s things.” He knits his brows together and nods once in understanding and turns back to the stage as soon as the next band starts up.

This one isn’t as heavy as the last but there are more people in the band to fawn over and fans in the crowd are going nuts. Small pits are starting and people are shoving their way to the front as best they can, a few breaking in close to the barricades. There’s tons of shoving and squishing and while Pennywise radiates off a kind of feeling to others not to come too near, it’s hardly working at all now. He’s getting annoyed and snarls once or twice, you can barely hear it over the music but you grab his hand and squeeze in reassurance, to which he quickly glances at you, relaxes a little and squeezes back.

You both make it fine through the second band and the third has people set up their equipment for them.. or maybe they don’t because the band members come out wearing burlap masks, completely shielding all facial features. During the intermission between bands you see them wheeling in and carrying props in front of and behind the stage that look awfully GWAR-ish. Then you notice all the long tubing and some of the “roadies” arms are suspiciously red. “Oh crap”, you squeak. Pennywise whips his head to look at you and wears a look of confusion and panic. He needs to know what’s wrong and what’s making you worry. “Don’t worry, sorry it’s fine, I just realized it’s going to get double messy in here.” The band makes their introduction first by wheeling out a costumed person with a distorted, cartoon, but human mask sitting up in a kind of dentist chair, covered by a blue fleece blanket and another costumed someone who can best be described as an Indiana Jones/cowboy looking kind of guy. They do a little skit and the band comes out and shreds into their first song. The crowd goes wild as the second guy takes an (obviously styrofoam) axe to the face and half of his face comes off. He starts spurting blood immediately and soaks the crowd in seconds. Pennywise is shocked, surprised, and incredibly confused as he’s splattered right across the face and slammed with a split second of hundreds of people’s fear and excitement, but when he realizes what had happened his eyes light up and he cackles his almost clowny laugh as he loses grip on his human guise. You call his name and touch his arm to reel him back in a bit and he looks at you with wild yellow eyes and grins an almost too toothy grin. He’s giddy and can barely contain himself but at least this way the crowd bumping, thrashing, and shoving coming from the huge pit some rows behind you doesn’t bother him as much anymore. You have to admit you’re incredibly proud of him for holding it together as well as he is considering the blood (no matter how fake it is) and so many people’s varying emotions. You can’t smell all of that like he can but you can smell everyone’s already sticky, sweaty, hot bodies and that is more than enough.

Almost every song has a tiny skit between or another character on stage and more people and things (most notably a fake chicken) are dismembered and beheaded, and more blood showers the crowd. By the end of their set most people have quite a decent amount of an off red splatter all over their faces, hair, and clothes. It’s worth noting that Pennywise of course looks completely in his element. The energy is buzzing but people are tired too. Some stay and chat people up, while others leave to grab food and sit down before the final long awaited act of the night.

You’re in front of Pennywise now because he was trying to keep the crowd off of you as best as he could. He has his long arms draped over your shoulders and slumps a little over you. You have your hands on top of his and you lean into him for support. You can feel a small continuous rumble in his chest as he gently purrs in content. You’re both still too close for comfort, squished between others and you remind him again to tone it down just a little more for fear others could tell something wasn’t right. He just nods and leans down to kiss the top of your head and rest his chin there. While waiting, music plays over the sound system and a couple well known songs steal people from their conversations to sing together. It’s a little surreal and funny to see and hear all kinds of different people singing together to completely different genres than the ones you’re there for. He turns you around to face him and asks “What is this?” he says, pointing at the splatters on himself and you. “Blood” you say, obviously, hellooo. He curls his lip in contempt, sniffs his arm and snakes his tongue out to taste a bead of the off pink liquid. “Come on, I know blood and that is NOT blood.” “No, it’s colored water so it doesn’t ruin their costumes night after night. GWAR does it too.” He huffs and scrunches his nose a bit.

Ages seemed to go by and he’s getting antsy again but then the lights dim to near total darkness and with GWAR’s screens and props now uncovered, music and their introduction plays. You and Pennywise straighten up, face the stage, and people hoot and holler, and you all watch in awe. A couple of costumed guys come on stage and do a little skit about blowing up GWAR’s base and each band member save for the “lead howler” shuffles onto the stage to take their places. The lights go up and people scream louder with ear splitting whistles tossed in and the band spouts off about being pissed at the humans they helped to create blowing them up and promptly chops the heads off the two humans, then they begin to play hard, fast, and heavy. Their bodyguard, Bonesnapper bends the beheaded humans over so their necks spray copious amounts of blood everywhere and anywhere it can and everyone including you and surprisingly Penny starts to jump up, down, and around almost frantically. There’s a sort of frenzy and the music starts to sound raw, almost primal. Blöthar takes his place with his huge antlers on his back taking up a ton of space and busts out loud and gruff lyrics. After a little while the humans are shuffled off stage and the song finishes. You look at Pennywise and his eyes are lit up but he looks concerned and a little flustered, too many things are going on at once, even more so than before and people are knocking into you even harder and more often than they were. You have to tell him it’s okay and remind him to keep cool, just have fun, let lose, bump them back, “NOT THAT HARD PEN!”

GWAR plays twice as long as the band before of course and they have more of a story line and other funny and gross skits between it all. The premise of the whole thing is that the band is sold to some overbearing powerful company and they want GWAR to pump out material. The head of the company has her chest ripped off much to Penny’s delight and even Trump is skinned and used to soak everyone further. Later they bring out what they call an alien super soaker to spray the crowd in blue: “What’s the blue liquid?”, he yells over the music. “I’m not sure.. water dyed blue to exaggerate that it’s water… alien blood maybe?” He raises an eyebrow with uncertainty. “What, your blood isn’t blue?” He smirks a sly smile and says, “I’ll never tell” as he whips his head away from you with his nose upturned, then looks back at you and winks with a cheeky smile.

People are holding up white t-shirts and other clothing articles through out the show “What are they doing?“ “They’re collecting the blood and stuff so it’s like a souvenir. Something cool to remember the show by and to show off.” He grunts and you both enjoy losing it to the rest of the set. They finish and walk off stage while people cheer and scream for them. Penny looks almost sad but the house lights are still dark so you tell him to wait. You knew that head liners almost always do encores and there was at least one song they hadn’t played yet that they HAD to do still. Sure enough they come back on stage to cheers and Penny even hollers. They fire off into one of two songs and then they play a rendition of AC/DC’s If You Want Blood. The song is of course popular so everyone really goes all out and the band acts like there’s some kind of blood quota to meet and just drowns everyone in it. It’s coming from Sawborg’s arms, Blöthar’s udders, and who knows where else. It’s just EVERYWHERE. People are being brought on stage and stuffed into a huge stage prop (VIP’s? What a fun way to go) and even when the song is over you’re still getting hit with waves of blood. The band thanks everyone there, bows, leaves the stage, the lights go up, and it’s finally over. You can finally see each other properly and you laugh at the complete and utter messes you are. You and Pennywise are exhausted and running on fumes. He’d definitely have to eat before you both go home. You drag him to the merch tables to pick out something and he tugs on your sleeve and points at a white T-shirt with their faces on it. “What, you want it?” He nods enthusiastically and you laugh. “Really!? Yeah, okay!” You ask the merch guy for it and guess at a size, hoping Penny would fit in it and you get their new cd and a shirt with the tour dates and album cover on it. You thank the merch guy, hand Pennywise his shirt and make for the doors but he yells for you to stop and holds a finger up. He disappears for a second and you can just make him out in the crowd of people leaving near the stage. He starts to wipe the barricades down and quickly makes his way back to you. You raise an eyebrow and he happily cries, “Souvenir!” You laugh at his excitement and the once white shirt that is now positively red, blue, and almost as soaked as the two of you are.

You both get to the car and pull out towels to put on the seats. You’re exhausted and starving so you pull into a drive through to get yourself something to eat, face, hair, and clothes still dripping and stained. You realize how you two must look and it takes everything in you not to lose it but Pennywise doesn’t even bother, the poor girl at the window is in for a fright and when you pull up to it her face isn't hiding the shock very well. She shakily takes your money and passes the change back while Pennywise is in hysterics but the second her fear hits him he stops and you hear a rumble in his throat. You grab your food as fast as you can, thank the poor girl and peel out before he loses it. He calms down and on the way home you both recount the night. He turned out to be way more into it than you’d expected but this why you brought him to the show anyways. Aliens and blood, it’s a no brainer. You both laugh at the whole thing and he reaches out to move a chunk of drying and stuck hair from your face. "You know, you look absolutely ravishing in that color," he smirks, obviously meaning the blood spatter and drip marks now stained in your skin. You smile and roll your eyes, "In your dreams clown boy." You turn to glance at him and he's smiling at you with a distorted mouth, pointed teeth showing in all their glory. You smile, sigh dreamily, and guess that you're in for quite another exhausting but equally thrilling experience tonight.

#pennywise #pennywise the clown #Pennywise the dancing clown #it #pennywise x reader #pennywise x you #hc #pennywise headcanon #it (2017) #daddywise #pennywise imagine #pennywise (2017) #pennywise (it) #it movie 2017 #it fanfiction #pennywise fanfiction #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård

[blissfullylostinarabbithole]

An End and a Beginning

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Dean takes you to see your favorite band for the last time.

A/N: Is anyone else having trouble tagging people? All recent requests for tags haven’t been working for me.

Dean kept stealing glances at you through the rearview mirror, the ball of guilt in his core growing by the mile. You were meant to spend the weekend in Colorado for a concert, but a case was taking you all across several state lines...in the opposite direction.

“We’ll try to kill this son of a bitch quick so you can make that show, alright?” Dean wanted you to know he hadn’t forgotten.

“Hm? Oh yeah, thanks,” you replied dismissively.

It only made him feel worse. You already paid for your ticket and you weren’t even mad; you were just looking over the pages Sam had printed out regarding the murders you were investigating. Normally it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but earlier in the year your favorite band had announced they would be parting ways after a final, farewell tour. The way your face fell when you heard would be forever stamped in his memory, and he hoped to never see you that heartbroken ever again.

The closest they would come to Kansas was Colorado, and you didn’t waste any time making plans to attend that show. Now, he was dragging you east two days before you’re meant to leave. It couldn’t be avoided; they needed your help. But Dean was going to make damn sure he did everything he could to get you back in time.

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

“Dude, calm down.”

“I promised,” Dean ground out.

“You promised you’d try, and you did. It didn’t work out that way,” Sam tried to soothe, turning to the back seat to make sure you were still asleep.

“She could be in a crowd right now, singing along to whatever song, but instead she’s here, covered in blood and sleepin’ off another hunt.”

Sam sighed, sagging back into the seat. He knew there was no point in arguing when Dean was like this. The ride back to the bunker was silent after that, and when they parked, Sam didn’t waste any time getting out of the car and inside, leaving Dean to wake you.

“Hey, we’re here.” He gave you a gentle shake until your eyes fluttered open. Though his heart sank at the sweet smile you flashed, his own was instantaneous. “Head on in, I’ll get your bag.”

“Thanks,” you yawned, getting out and shuffling to your room.

Dean watched you go, knowing no matter what, you’d never hold his broken promise against him. Lives were saved, and nothing would make you feel bad over it.

The following morning, you were woken by Sam asking if you knew where Dean went. He showed you a note he found in the library saying he’s be back in a couple of days, and said his bed hadn’t been slept in. You decided to give him a call, but all he said was that he needed to run an errand and that everything was fine before hanging up.

You and Sam spent the time Dean was away updating archives and taking inventory. When he strolled in the next evening, he wore a satisfied smirk, but went straight to bed without explanation of where he’d been.

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

“Y/N, wake up. We have a case.” Dean chuckled when you bolted up and tried to untangle yourself from your sheets. “Easy, Sweetheart, we got time.”

“Why are you smiling?” you asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously at him.

“What? I can’t be in a good mood?”

“Just before a case? No.” You got out of bed and went to wash up without waiting for a response. When you got out, Dean was holding your backpack.

“I already packed for you. Let’s go.”

In the garage, he gestured to the front seat as he headed to the trunk to stow your bags.

You raised a confused brow at him. “Sam’s not coming?”

“Nah. It’s a simple case, and he wouldn’t get out of bed, so it’s just you an’ me.” He winked, and you shook your head and smiled as you climbed into the car.

After a short nap, Dean woke you to get some breakfast. You were too sleepy to notice he hadn’t told you anything about the case other than you were meeting Donna for it, but not to see how easily he smiled. He asked what you’d gotten up to while he was gone, and hung onto every word. You had to admit it was nice to see him like this, so you decided against asking about his mood again.

Now wide awake, Dean blasted the stereo while you sang along to your favorites. When he reached the freeway’s onramp, you did a doubletake.

“Dean, this one goes east. Shouldn’t we be going north?”

He shook his head, not taking his eyes off the road. “Not this time. We’re meeting her in Chicago. She’s going to a convention or something.”

Satisfied with his answer, you sat back and enjoyed the ride. A few hours later, you noticed a faint vibrating sound coming from the glovebox. You reached in and pulled out one of their old phones and handed it to Dean before turning the music down.

“Hello?... Right, Mr. Jones. Would you mind holding for a moment while I check your status?... Great.” He set the phone down on the seat and turned the music back up, grinning at the amused look you were giving him. After a couple of minutes, he turned it back down and picked up the phone. “Well, Mr. Jones, it looks like it’s all settled on your end and your reimbursement check is in the mail… Uh-huh, no problem. Have a nice day!” He hung up and shoved it back in the glovebox.

“What was that about?”

“Just some loose end,” he dismissed.

“You’re being really secretive,” you huffed. “More than usual.”

Dean chuckled, but otherwise didn’t respond.

After stopping for lunch, the next several hours went by in companionable silence, occasionally broken by either his humming or your soft singing. By the time you reached your destination, you were eager to stretch your legs, so Dean suggested you go to a bar before dinner.

In the morning, Dean didn’t bother waking you. He let you sleep until you woke naturally and took you out to a late lunch. He told you Donna was running late, and wouldn’t be able to meet until the following day. With nothing to do, you suggested going for a walk at a beautiful park you passed on the way, and to your surprise, he readily agreed. When the sun began to set, he said he wanted to get back and have an early night, but when the street your motel was on came and went, you couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Ok, what’s really going on? You just passed the street and I know you know it.”

“You couldn’t give me five more minutes?” he groaned.

“For what?”

He looked over at you and smirked. “You’ll see in five minutes.”

You watched him intently, as if you could read his mind out of sheer will. When he saw you staring, he burst out in laughter, making your glare. His laughter tapered by the time he parked and asked you to follow him. Just as he was about to round a corner, he stopped and reached into his jacket’s pocket and handed you an envelope.

“What’s this?” You took it and pulled out the tickets inside. “Oh my god...OH MY GOD!!” Without thinking, you jumped into Dean’s arms and kissed his cheek. “How did you even get these?! Every show is sold out!” It was then you noticed the name on the tickets: Mark Jones. “Mr. Jones… Did you steal these?”

“What? No,” he scoffed, giving you that offended, squinty eyed look. “I confiscated them.”

“How?” Neither of you seemed to notice he was still holding you.

“With my badge,” he grinned. “I found the owner of the best seats, told him the tickets were counterfeit, and the seller was under investigation.”

“Dean, that’s…” What? Wrong? With everything else you’ve done, this hardly seemed like a big deal. “Brilliant.”

You giggled when his eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was only then you realized how close you were. You knew he did too when you saw his cheeks redden under the light of the street lamp and practically heard the lump he swallowed.

“We, uh, we should get inside.” He put you down so slowly, it made you wonder if maybe he didn’t want to. He cleared his throat and placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the front entrance of the venue.

When you got inside and the usher showed you to your seats, Dean went off to the bar to get some drinks. The opening act came on, and they were so much better than you expected that even Dean seemed to enjoy their music. During the intermission, you went to the restroom while Dean got more drinks so you were ready for the headlining act.

When the band came out on stage, Dean couldn’t help watching the way your face lit up, and it made his heart swell. The music started, and he turned toward the stage but kept watching you out of the corner of his eye, loving how into it you were. He was surprised to find himself singing along to a song he recognized, and looked over at you to see the shocked look on your face.

A slow song started to play and he felt your hand wrap around his. When his eyes found yours, he felt his heart stop for a moment.

“Dance with me?” you asked, almost pleadingly.

He swallowed hard, and unable to speak, simply nodded. He wrapped his arm around your waist and began swaying with you. You were both completely lost in each other that moment. Looking into his eyes, you noticed he wasn’t guarded. He was raw and unfiltered, and you were taken aback. For the first time, he let you see everything, and you knew he was in love with you. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss, pouring all your feelings into it as he did with one look.

It was a while before either of you noticed the room was quiet. When you pulled apart, you both looked to the stage to see the band smiling down at you.

“Thanks for upstaging us,” the singer joked, bringing laughter from the audience. “First kiss?” he asked, grinning widely when you both nodded. “Congratulations. This one’s for you.” As the crowd cheered, he turned to speak to the other members, and they began to play a song that wasn’t on the setlist.

The night wore on, and Dean couldn’t believe everything that had happened; everything he’d done to get you here. Most of all, he couldn’t believe you were his. That, and he had a new favorite band.

Permanent -  @melconnor2007 @ria132love @psychicwitchphilosopher @sireennotsiren  @silence–in–the–library  @thefridgeismybestie @hymnofthevalkyrie @abbybills22  @mvasquez492 @ek823 @nicky10876

If I missed you, or you wish to be added or removed, please let me know!

#dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #reader #reader insert #SPN #Supernarural

[whimstories]

Summary: Regency AU. Marinette is at the theatre and falls in love. Basically,  a total rip from Chance Encounters by Linda Wells, because the first scene was insta-fluff and I’m a sucker. 

A/N: This ended up 2k longer than I intended and I still wanted to write more but you gotta pump the breaks sometime. I tried out a new approach to writing with this one and it was really enjoyable, so I hope to continue to learn as I write more. Feedback is appreciated, enjoy! ~~

I think I’m in love… Marinette reasons to herself on the refined suit in the private box. 

The brocade vest is remarkable, a bold deep green with silver patterns; the black gentleman’s vest is clean cut with a single button at the center and, dare her eyes deceive her, she can see a light green interior lining that looks particularly fetching; the neck tie shines gold in the light, a shocking bold choice that causes Marinette to cover her mouth as she gapes in wonder.

Gorgeous, handsome, elegant, resplendent— there are not enough words to describe her feelings to see such handiwork. Her open staring should be embarrassing at this point, but Marinette does not care a wit. If she can find a way to address the artisan, her daydreams of working as a designer seem more probable. It is in that moment she is mindful that there is a man wearing the eye-catching attire.

Her first impression of the man works along the lines of “fit” and “a perfect partner”. The style of his blond hair is back with wisps escaping into his face, that are suspiciously perfect enough to be purposeful. He his, without a doubt, as handsome as his garments and, considering the tittering females looking in his direction, just as expensive.

Marinette is seized by his countenance, however. He looks miserable. His eyes are stern, yet his face is held in such practice that she surmises the amorous females see a content male in high standing, but Marinette views a sad man, very uncomfortable in this atmosphere. Perhaps, he is shy.

Marinette will not discriminate against his social status and assume he is glad to have money and women clamoring for him. Men can be happy or miserable at any status in life, but it is unfortunate to have it in a venue of cheer.

She looks to the right and regards a brown man in bright red attire, scattered with golden medals. His demeanor is calming and accommodating; it is clear he is use to being the center of attention. Possibly a high commanding officer. He switches between conversations with his despairing friend and another private box across the way. Marinette notices the blond man sink into his seat each time his friend turns.

She feels a pang of sympathy. She cannot stand the clear alienation and wonders if there is something to cheer him up. At that thought, the eyes of the blond man, she realizes they are green, catches her own. There is a spark of life in the contact when he realizes how attentive she looked upon him. She smiles sweetly and points to her cheeks. She makes a show of frowning while pointing in his direction then directing him to change it to a smile. She surmises she looks silly enough to elicit a response and, with satisfaction, the man’s mouth moves into a lopsided grin at her antics.

Marinette feels a shiver of pride and pleasure and reckons she wants to see him in full cheer. She stretches her smile wider, gestures towards women looking at his booth, and reenacts a woman swooning and fanning her face if she were to witness such a smile. The man’s entire face transforms into such a loud laugh that he must cover his mouth and looks away for a moment to not give the game away.

Marinette’s gratification increases to a form of euphoria and flutters in her abdomen.  His smile transformed his face to a warm gleam in his eyes and a small dimple on his cheek. She thought him handsome before, but the unadulterated cheer, lighting his face like an unexpected flame, made her spellbound.

The blonde man, Mr. Adrien Agreste, still smiling, looks back at the magical creature that changed his mood in a few moments, and nods in agreement to her gestures. He is overfamiliar with the females he attracts in public and, to be frank, it was rare for him to present an attitude beyond complacent when he conversed with them. If they were to witness some form of interest on his part, there is no doubt they would tumble in jitters.

Adrien stares at the enchanting female, she is applauding him for playing along in their charade, her bright eyes glittering in amusement. He is astounded by the instant connection with a perfect stranger, and yet finds it rare to connect with most mutual acquaintances beyond basic pleasantries.

After father lost his true love when Adrian was young, he was overworked with grief and the maids and tutors were the ones to raise his son. Adrien dreamed of life outside his home, making friends and, eventually, meeting a true love of his own, however, he was quick to realize his notoriety would stem from the preconceptions of his status and his father’s popularity as a trend setting designer. Instead of thriving in crowds, he shied away in unease; instead of charming acquaintances to his side, they clamored at him with matchmaking schemes for their daughters or aspiring young men to get ahead in life. It is rare, indeed, for Adrien to witness an expression of sincerity.

It is with that history that Adrien is not surprised that his gaze refuses to look elsewhere.

“What are you laughing about, my friend?” Nino Lahiffe inquires, an expression of curiosity and mischief. Nino is a military man of high standing and, as such, has the observation skills of a vulture.

“Nothing, I am just…” Adrien knows Nino has discovered the intense eye-lock of the female below.

“Oh, a lady, eh? She is beautiful, do I know her?” Nino leans his head farther over the railing and gives the female a small wave. The woman inclines her head in pleasant greetings and smiles in return. Adrien knows Nino has a natural amiable charm with everyone he meets and has never felt threatened or insulted at his unique skills. That is, until this moment.

Adrien dares an unflinching glare at Nino. “Not too soon I hope.” Adrien mutters. Nino twists his head in his direction, mouth agape.

“Wow, you fall fast.” Nino chuckles at his friend’s scarlet features.

He knew Adrien ever since they met at a soiree when they were four-and-ten, neither wanting to attend, and became fast friends making jest at the circus act that is London society. Adrien is not uptight and ambitious on material wealth as other men his age; he has morals and convictions that Nino has admired to this day. He has a jaunty sense of humor that, if realized to his lady fans, would send the ton in a rosy faint. He is a good, sensible man; so it is with surprise that his emotions overran him to snap at his closest companion.

“No, it is, just— I am very aware of your charm, Nino. You are my friend after all.” Adrien admits.

“Well, well, a rare compliment, indeed. This lady is a force to be reckoned with. Should we begin plotting an offensive?” Nino urges.

“Now? I—I am not sure…” Adrien’s inexperience in these matters made him reel. His confidence felt shocked at the idea of this female wanting to truly meet him. She was courageous, kind, and caught his interest with minimal effort. How will she perceive him accosting her in a public theatre for so simple an act? “I have never introduced myself to an unknown woman. What will she think?”

“Adrien. How else will you meet her? I have never seen you affected by a woman, and lord help me, if I do not pick you up and toss you at her feet myself! Or will forever reminisce on the one who got away and made you purr like a love-starved kitten. ” Nino enjoys witnessing this new vision of Adrien, he never has the opportunity to tease him about the opposite sex and will relish the experience.

Adrien tenses at the accusations but, has to admit, his previous reaction of jealously cannot dispute the fact. He is spellbound by his consideration of the lady, so much so that he does not realize the show is beginning until the lights cause him to strain for sight on her.

Adrien exhales a sigh, Nino is correct. “Yes, alright. At intermission.”

“A man with a plan, good show!” Nino whispers in earnest.

Marinette stops looking at the blonde male when her mother taps her shoulder at the dimming of the lights. She inquires on her distraction and Marinette laughs. “I have met a kindred spirit in the crowd, is all.” She whispers. Her mother simpers at her daughter’s affable nature and turns to watch the show. Marinette cannot resist glancing at the blonde male between scenes, however, and swears she can see him returning the sentiment.

The lights awaken for intermission and Marinette realizes she cannot recall most of the play. She looks up at the box and the male is looking right at her. Her face feels flush in excitement.  I wonder if he would be willing to speak with me, but her mother pulls her attention away and she loses the opportunity to wonder.

When Adrien catches the immediate glance of his unknown female, he is emboldened to meet her. He rises to leave when the curtain behind him is pulled open and he views a glamorously dressed female with bright blond hair. In that instant, he knows he will not escape.

“Mr. Agreste! What a great pleasure to see you,” Chloe Bourgeois exclaims, blocking his path. “I thought us close friends, why was I not informed you were attending the theatre?”

Adrien’s London home is the neighbor to the Bourgeois family and their excitable daughter— who has it in her head that they were destined for marriage since their introduction. Her father works in parliament and interacts with Adrien’s father, to decorate his daughter in front of them, as often as he can. Chloe is the first example of a females in society that Adrien ever witnessed. At first he convinced himself she was an oddity, in her efforts for attention, but his experiences have disappointingly made her a model figure.

“A pleasure, Miss Bourgeois. I apologize but the decision was quite sudden. I thought you would be busy.”Adrien answered in his practiced demeanor. Even if Chloe is not his closest acquaintance, he is surprised she does not asses his distant responses to her advances.

“You know I can spare time for you, Agreste. Never hesitate to invite me, or make a call. How is your father? His designs are the only articles worth wearing in London.” Chloe dotes.

“Yes, he is a very busy man.”

“That is a new suit designed by him, is it not? How wonderful it looks on you, dear Adr—Agreste.” Chloe places her hand on his chest, acting familiar and, he wouldn’t put it below her, to warn off females in the crowd as they looked up in the box. He tenses at Chloe’s reach outside of propriety using his Christian name. He would not snap at her if she did, but she must know he would think low of her.

“You are too kind.” They converse until the end of intermission and Chloe struggles to withdraw to her seat, as they pay no attention to invite her to stay. Adrien searches for the face of the female and she is no longer looking in his direction. Her face is tense, looking towards the stage with no indication of sensing his stare. Adrien is not discouraged. No matter who this woman is, I am determined to know her.

Marinette feels embarrassed. True, she wished for the man to come greet her, she thought a friendship to be fine— but glancing at the casual entrance of the the female and her familiar touch, her feelings came full front. She was unaccustomed to these rush of emotions, it is mortifying; she has no control over her thoughts. Perhaps the female is a friend, but the man’s back was turned away and she could not guess his reaction. Marinette decides to be rid of this foolish game she brought upon herself and never turns back to the male for the rest of the show.  

Once the show ends, her parents rise from their seats and she tells them she wishes to stay in the theatre for a moment, to appreciate the architecture as visiting the theatre is a rare occasion. This is not an unusual request so, they agree and leave with the crowd. Of course, Marinette is lying. She refuses to see the male who flustered her wits. At best she will nod politely and run away as fast as should could. At worst…well, she has dignity after all.

Adrien and Nino leap from their seats before the end of the show and run down to the theatre lobby. They do not want to risk missing the beautiful woman. The patrons exit the doors and both men stand on the steps to the upper floor to maintain a good view.

“Do you spot her?” Nino asked.

“No,” he responds. The female did not make eye contact after intermission, she refused to turn towards him, but Adrien knows that he is enchanted with the female. He would get to know her and, if all goes well, she would come to feel for him.

“There!” Nino calls out, pointing towards the center of the lobby.

“You see her?” Adrien asks.

“Her acquaintances. With haste!” The men nudge through the crowd and end up behind a well dressed couple, the woman leaning her head towards the male.

“Excuse me.” Adrien taps the female’s shoulder. He introduces himself and Nino and explains that he met their acquaintance before the show began.

“Oh my, what a pleasure! This is my husband Mr. Dupain-Cheng and I am Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. My daughter mentioned making a friend. She was in such high spirits, I wondered who was the mysterious person. She is still in the theatre. We do not visit often so she insisted on admiring the interior.”

These are her parents, Adrien thinks, his body flushing. He can see the similarities in the father’s calm stance and the woman’s kind eyes.

“My friend is most eager to make her acquaintance. Would you mind us continuing our conversation as he goes to fetch her?” Adrien makes a grateful glance at Nino. Nino’s face sends a message back that Adrien interprets, ‘You better tell me all the details later, or I will force it out of you.’

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng gives a cheerful agreement and Adrien walks to the open doors of the theatre.

Marinette reckons half the patrons left in their carriages and she did not want to make her parents wait too long. Her emotions are slow to fading but she still feels she made a fool of herself acting like a flirting harpy making glances at some unknown man in a private box. What was she thinking? Some fairytale where the middle class, no name female meets the prince of her dreams who happens to find her character “unique” and “unlike any other he’s ever met”? She thought herself better than that.

“Good evening.”

Marinette jumps, her mind too reproachful to hear incoming steps. She turns in her seat and views the man from the box, just standing two seats away from her. Her throat feels tight and her stomach is fluttering again. His eyes are brighter than she thought and the cut of the attire is even more attractive up close. This will not do, she has to maintain her wits.  

“Oh, it’s you.” she says. If wit meant using words with restraint, I have set a new high standard. Marinette reprimands.

His features turn bashful as he speaks again. “I apologize for being sudden, but I had to thank the woman that brightened my evening more than the cast of professionals that I spent to enjoy.”

Marinette feels her tense muscles unwind and she falls for the shy smile on his face. She is laughing, both at her reaction and his rushed overture. “ It was my pleasure. But I am sure your immediate company also aided in your recovery?”

Feeling emboldened by her lyrical laughter, he responds, “I fear I must admit, that only one person had the honor of such a task tonight.” The man gives a fond smile and sits beside her. Marinette feels her cheeks warm and she looks down at her hands, flattered. “Can you tell me how I was so lucky to receive her attention?”

Marinette looks up at his suit, reminded of her initial reason for looking into the box. “Your garments, in fact. I have never seen something so fine on a person. The design and tailor is quite exquisite. I thought of many grand words to surmise how handsome it is. Lovely, gorgeous, elegant—I even joked to find love at first sight.” She rambles. Marinette’s passion for fashion bleeds through her tone and it takes her a moment to recall her words. I think I have outed myself as romantically inclined towards clothing. No wonder mother dotes on my future prospects.

The man’s face transforms from polite fondness to a mischievous leer. He leans forward, as if to unveil a secret, and Marinette straightens and looks to the side and back, wondering at his sudden casual manner.“My lady, I will become too big for my breeches with your flattery. Then where would you find merit?” Adrien remarks.

Marinette refuses to smile, instead purses her lips and touches his chin with her pointer finger to push him away. “I would never compliment a man with such rakish humor.”

Adrien rubs his chin. “What about rakish features?”

“Tell me where I can find one and he shall receive it.” Marinette jabs.

Adrien laughs in earnest and looks at Marinette with amazement. “In my haste I have forgotten my manners, I am Adrien Agreste. May I ask your name, or have I lost favorable mention?”

Marinette snickers.“No, this I can give. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Adrien inclines a small bow. “Well, Miss Dupain-Cheng, as you have such an interest in my attire would you be interested to see more collections by the craftsman? He happens to be a personal acquaintance.”

Marinette could want nothing more in this world. “I would be honored! That is, I hate to impose.”

“I would consider it the greatest favor to spend another day in your company—“ Adrien touches her right hand and lifts it to his mouth, “—my lady.”He kisses it lightly, peering at her as her face warms.          

“Then how could I refuse.” Marinette murmers.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette #writing #storytime #camp nanowrimo

[beautysupply101]

Air Supply and Little River Band in Ocean Grove, NJ 8-18-07

Ocean Grove, NJ: Air Supply Performs at Great Auditorium. Australian Invasion Includes Little River Band

On Saturday, August 18th, 2007, two Australian-rooted bands came together to perform at the historically rich Great Auditorium in Ocean Grove, New Jersey.

To be accurate, only two members of these bands are actually Australian. Except for Englishman Graham Russell, every other band member hails from the United States. Nevertheless, both bands are billed as Australian, each bringing an astonishing 30+ years of music history and hits to fans and visitors of this beautiful seaside town.

Incorporated in 1870 as a camp meeting community by Methodist ministers and lay persons, Ocean Grove's spiritual roots are ever present. The Great Auditorium was originally built as a 'preacher's stand' allowing for seating of 75 ministers. In 1876 a roof was added and seating was available for 3,000 worshippers. By 1894, the congregation had grown and a new building was constructed to hold 10,000. Nearly the size of a football field, the Great Auditorium today hosts Sunday services, community events and concerts on Saturday nights, which is where we found Air Supply and the Little River Band on this gorgeous summer evening.

As the concert preparations were underway, tourists and townspeople gathered in the small park directly outside the Great Auditorium. The doors around the perimeter of the Auditorium slid open, allowing people outside the Auditorium the opportunity to hear the concerts for free. They didn't have a view to the stage, but on a beautiful summer's night such as this, nothing beats sitting in the grass with friends and family, looking at the stars, smelling the ocean air and hearing great music from two bands who, combined, had dozens of hits in the 80's.

The Little River Band came out before Air Supply. I had to do my homework prior to the show. I knew that I knew a few songs, but I had to find out what songs I'd need to get a refresher on! Much to my surprise, I found 5 songs I remembered right off the bat, and as LRB sang their hits, I found that I knew even more songs! In all, LRB sang about a dozen songs, and I knew all but 2 of them. Who knew I'd know so many?

The Little River Band put on a fantastic show. They opened the show with a song I'd have thought they would have saved for the end -- Reminiscing. One of my all-time favorite songs ...Friday night, it was late I was walking you home we got down to the gate and I was dreaming of the night -- Would it turn out right, how to tell you girl --I want to build my world around you --Tell you that it's true --I want to make you understand--I'm talkin' about a lifetime plan... Hurry, don't be late, I can hardly wait, I said to myself when we're old --We'll go dancing in the dark, walking through the park and reminiscing. I really love that song!

Little River Band continued to sing hits such as Happy Anniversary, Take It Easy On Me, The Night Owls, Cool Change, Lonesome Loser, and Lady. I don't recall all of the songs, but those are the big hits they sang and they were absolutely fabulous. LRB put a different spin on some of the songs, changing them up to extend them or to add some funk. It was a lot of fun and the whole band had a great deal of energy. Like Air Supply, LRB continues to tour and they put on a show that will make you smile. Different from Air Supply, LRB's songs are much more uptempo, funkier, and more rock and roll. It was a great show and thanks to the band!

Air Supply came out after a 20-30 minute intermission. Opening with the Sweet Dreams/Young Love combination, I was once again put into a great Air Supply mood. The people around me were much older and didn't seem to get into the music as much as Airheads typically do, but they still knew the words to the songs and had a great time singing them. Admittedly, they were perplexed as Russell Hitchcock came out into the audience during The One That You Love. As he came out, no one really knew what to do. Russell kind of looked out at everyone and stretched out his arms to say, "I'm here," and I had to yell out a 'whooooo' to try to get the crowd going! Once they figured it all out, there was not stopping them! People were running down the aisles trying to get close to Russell and Graham. And being a 'great' auditorium, Russell and Graham had their hands full trying to get through the aisles and people. Everyone was standing up and both Russell and Graham had to run back to the stage to finish the song! From this point on, I'd have to say there were Airheads everywhere! Now everyone was singing, standing, yelling, clapping, whistling. Leave it to Russell to get the crowd going!

The Air Supply set list was the same as it has been for some time. Favorites Just As I Am, Power of Love, Every Woman In the World, Two Less Lonely People, Here I Am, Lost In Love and All Out of Love, among others, were performed well. Jed Moss once again performed a classical piece before Faith in Love, and the audience loved it! Russell called everyone up prior to Making Love Out of Nothing At All, and the area was packed! Hundreds came down to be close to Air Supply. One fan had an old Air Supply record and Russell reached down and grabbed it out of his hands, pointed to the photo and mouthed "that's me!" to the audience, then gave it back to the fan who was thrilled!

It was a great evening, and the venue was superb. Ocean Grove is a beautiful community with cafes, restaurants, beaches, boardwalks, the largest Victorian home collection in the U.S., and true living history all around. The Little River Band was wonderful, and Air Supply once again showed fans why they should keep coming to their shows. This little Australian invasion was a great pairing and made for a perfect summer concert -- a true two-fer!

As always, thanks to Russell, Graham, Jed, Jonni Lightfoot, Mike Zerbe, Sparky, Brett, Moe, Nate and Mark. You should get an award for maneuvering that tour bus down those tiny streets! Thanks for putting on yet another great show!

Cheers!

Betsy Hijazi attends Air Supply concerts and writes reviews and posts video clips on her blog at [http://bit.ly/2swBmMe] - [http://bit.ly/2MoK2gQ] and [http://bit.ly/2sB0wcz]

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/expert/Betsy_Hijazi/82278

http://bit.ly/2Miqrij

#Air Supply and Little River Band #Air Supply and Little River Band in Ocean Grove #NJ 8-18-07 #Ocean