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rottenroyalebooks · 3 years

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Rotten Corpse

Chapter One

-Originally written on Wattpad-

Pairing: Corpse Husband x OC! RottenRoyale/Sienna Colt

Genre: Real Person Fic, Romance, a little bit of angst.

Warnings: None for this chapter.

Series Summary: A life full of deception can only lead to her downfall, will he be there to catch her?

~*~*~

I could see the sun rising in the window next to me and I groaned, looking at the clock on my studio wall realizing that I had spent all night recording and editing a video when I should have been studying for my college classes, again.

My phone vibrated on the desk next to me as my alarm went off that was supposed to wake me up; but not today.

I turned off the alarm seeing a text from my mom.

"I made breakfast for you whenever you're ready. It's in the kitchen of the manor, I'll be in my office if you need anything." I smiled and chuckled at my mother's text, looking out the window again and gazing at my family's Manor, and seeing my mother waving at me from her office window.

When my videos on YouTube started taking off and I started gaining popularity, my parents let me move into the guest house that's located in the backyard, fixing it up and turning it into my studio.

I stood up from my desk, stretching slightly and walking out of my office, and heading to the first floor. I exited my studio and walked across the backyard and opened the kitchen door to the manor.

I saw the plate on the island counter and smiled to myself; hopping up on the stool as Miranda, our live-in maid walked into the kitchen.

"Ah good morning Sienna! What is on the agenda today?" She asked walking over to the kitchen to clean the dishes.

"I'm going to stop at the coffee shop by the university and cram in some last-minute studying until my noon financing class. Then, when I get out of class, I will head back to my studio, shower, and get ready before I stream. Busy day." I say with a smile.

"Sounds like it. Make sure you eat before you stream. Do you want me to make you some lunch today? I don't mind making your food." She offers but I shake my head.

"I'm going to be cooking on stream today, for my She Can Cook series on YouTube. I was taught by another YouTuber how to make Honey Butter Fried Chicken and he challenged me to make it so I set up my streaming equipment in my kitchen last night so I wouldn't have to rush myself today." I explained as I ate my breakfast.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and I pulled it out, seeing an email from my professor.

I opened it up and groaned in happiness as I read the subject line:

CLASS IS CANCELED

"Bless! My professor canceled class today which means I can play video games!" I said cheerfully as I went to my messages and found Sean's number, texting him.

"Hey man! Are you up for playing Among Us today?"

I sent the text as my mother walked into the kitchen, "Darling, I'm going to assume that your office light being on all night was not because you were studying." She said crossing her arms.

It was a trap! I thought to myself as I stopped chewing my food. I thought about my answer carefully as I swallowed and sat up straight.

"You assumed correctly." I mumbled looking down at my plate, "I was recording and editing a video all night, a new song."

She sighed, "Sienna, your grades are important. Midterms are around the corner-"

"And if my job flops on me then I won't have a backup." I finish the statement for her. "I know mom, I'm sorry. Professor canceled class today so I'm going to focus on relaxing today but I promise I will binge study tonight and stay out of my office tomorrow." I tell her and she nods.

"Deal." She said before walking away. I felt my phone vibrate with a message from Sean.

"I was just about to text you! We need one more person for our game in about an hour would you be okay with that?"

Meeting new people is always fun.

I met Sean a few years ago at Vidcon when he came up to my booth and exclaimed how he liked my music and asked ME for a picture. I was starstruck and we became friends from that day forward. We collaborated on a few gaming videos and because of that more people decided to watch my channel and I blew up soon after.

He isn't the only YouTuber I know. I'm also friends with Gloom (Kassie), Dangthatsalongname (Scott), LDShadowlady (Lizzie), Laurenzside (Lauren), SmallishBeans (Joel), and Joey Griceffa. I've collaborated with a bunch of other people too like Shannon Taylor.

Lots of big names, I know.

I replied to his text agreeing and for him to send me an invite.

I ate the rest of my breakfast quickly and Miranda took my dishes for me and I thanked her before heading back to my studio.

I jogged back up the stairs and brushed my teeth before hopping in the shower and getting dressed into my clothes so I wouldn't have to do so later.

As soon as I sat down at my computer I got the invite from Sean and I set up the game before accepting.

As soon as I entered the call I heard people chatting away, starting with Sean.

"Oh! She's here! Everyone, meet Rotten. Rotten, meet everyone!" Sean said and I chuckled.

"Hey everyone," I said with a smile, adjusting my headset on my head.

"Hey! I'm Lily!"

"Hi! I'm Rae."

"I'm Sykkuno!"

"Hey Rotten! Dave is here too." I smiled hearing Dave speak up.

"Rotten! Best Friend!" Glooms' voice came through the call and I smiled.

"Glooooooom!" I said in a weird voice that made everyone laugh.

"Hi, Rotten! Lizzie here!" Lizzie's voice makes me smile and I greeted her back.

"Wait! You're Rotten Royale, aren't you? That alternative singer that Marzia listens to on the daily. She is obsessed with Up all Night." Felix's voice was the last person I expected to be on this call.

I had to mute myself so I didn't say something stupid. PewDiePie knows my name AND his girlfriend listens to my music? So rad.

I quickly composed myself and unmuted my mic, "Yeah that's me! So glad to hear that someone likes my music." I joke as I design my character. My color is cyan and I have a cat head hat on my character's head.

"Oh please, your four million subscribers would simp for you in a heartbeat." Sean joked which made everyone in the chat laugh.

Then someone else joined.

A deeper toned voice comes through my headset, "Is there someone new in the chat?"

His voice set me back, deciding not to say anything as I knew he probably got a lot of comments about his voice. "Yeah, I'm Rotten." I introduce myself.

"Rotten?" His tone was questioning and Gloom giggled.

"That's her alias on the internet, well it's Rotten Royale, but everyone just calls her rotten for short," Kassie explained to me and I smiled.

He hummed, "Makes sense. I'm Corpse."

I barked out a laugh, "And you question my name?" I teased.

"Oh! Rotten, are you streaming?" Sean asked.

"Negative, Ghostrider. All my streaming equipment is currently in my kitchen for my Stream later today."

"Why in the kitchen?" Sykkuno asked and I chuckled.

"I have this series I do on my side channel called She Can Cook where I have all different kinds of people trying to teach me how to cook because before I couldn't even boil pasta correctly because my mother spoiled me," That earned a laugh from a few people, "A week ago I had Sam the Cooking Guy come to my studio and teach me how to make Honey Butter Fried Chicken and man it's amazing. I'm going to be attempting to cook it on stream and pray I don't set my studio on fire."

"Oh, I'll be watching that." Kassie chuckled.

"Yo Rotten I just listened to Up all Night and it's so good! Your voice is so Angelic!" Lily exclaimed and I let out a chuckle.

"Thank you, I appreciate the feedback," I said shyly and Sean piped up.

"I think you should be recording this, Rotten, this is going to be an interesting game."

I smirked lightly, typing quickly on my computer and seeing my third screen pop up with the recording of the screen in front of me.

"Hang on, I have to grab a cam. All of my good ones are in the kitchen." I muted my mic and rushed over to my bookshelf, grabbing a box that I put my old cam in.

After getting the face cam set up I turned it on, seeing it pop up on my other screen. I unmuted my mic and smiled, "Alright! I now have a face. Let's do this thing, momma needs to procrastinate doing her Finance homework."

#fanfiction #writers of tumblr #corpse #corpse husband #rottenroyalebooks #rottenwrites #wattpad #corpse husband x oc #valkyrae #tycoon family #YouTube #youtuber #musicians #story songs #sykkuno #jacksepticeye #disguised toast #friendship #friends to lovers

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supergiantgamescentralfan · 3 years

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The Supergiant Franchise

couHello, everyone! As someone who has recently gotten into the Supergiant franchise thanks to Hades, I would like to encourage those doing the same to check out Supergiant’s other games. They have 4 in total, with Hades being their latest work.

Many of you may also know their first game, Bastion (and usually, when I bring up Hades, people will ask, “Is that by the people who made that game Bastion?” And yes, it is.) But a lot of people don’t know about Transistor and Pyre! So I wanted to create little summaries/synopsis for the games for those want to know more about them. All 4 of them are masterpieces.

Bastion: The very 1st SG game. I usually find that this is the second most popular (or at least, second most referenced) game. When I finished watching Hades on YouTube, multiple people suggested that if I enjoyed Hades, I should enjoy Bastion too. You play as a kid (who is literally addressed as, “Kid,” throughout the entire game) rebuilding the Bastion throughout the course of the game. You’re recovering from an event called the, “Calamity,” which has wiped out nearly everyone you knew, yet there are survivors scattered about the land. It plays very similarly to Hades, as a 3D dungeon crawler with a variety of weaponry to select from throughout the game. There are only 3 other characters, but they’re all immensely well-written, and the music is absolutely awesome.

Transistor: SG’s 2nd game, being the only one to take place in a cyberpunk, futuristic city (in fact, it is the only game to at least be in a modern day period. every other game takes place in a more fantasy/past setting). This one is also a dungeon crawler with turn-based combat implemented as well, in a sense. My absolute favorite of the 4 games and has one of my favorite videogame soundtracks of all time. IT GOES HARD, I promise you. You play as a woman named Red, who is a singer (she’s ranked in the top percentile of the city for 5 years!), but she’s had her voice stolen from her. In addition to this, you find that the city is falling apart, and enemies called the, “Process,” are popping up in Cloudbank (the city), taking the form of little robots and drones that are out to get you. Your main weapon is a blue sword called the, “Transistor,” that acts as the main voice and “narrator,” in a sense of the story. The main villains are a gang called the Camerata, who you have a personal score to settle with, for more reasons than just losing your voice...

-One thing I really love about this game is that the dialogue is very reactive. The voice of the transistor speaks for itself and for Red (since her voice is missing), and it reacts to nearly everything in the game that you interact with. It’s incredibly immersive and I love it.

Pyre: Their 3rd game is very unique from the other 3. It plays like a visual novel and a sports game. (Yeah. We’ve gone from dungeon crawlers to a sports game. They’re insane for this.) You are an exile thrown out of the Commonwealth, a nation of great pride and a variety of ethnic groups. All sentenced to exile (assumed to be a life sentence, by the way) are cast away into the land known as the Downside; A ruthless and unforgiving environment with a variety of wildlife and threats left and right. Many exiles must rely on each other to survive, and you are taken in by a group who enlist you to help them perform Rites. Rites are where the sports aspect of the game comes in; It is said that if you can win the Rites, you and your fellow exiles can earn your freedom back and return to glory within the Commonwealth.

-If you’re a fan of the found family trope, you will absolutely love Pyre. One of my favorite examples of this and every character is worth loving 100%.

Hades: The 4th, most recent, and most popular game. You’re probably familiar with this one. Hades is a dungeon crawler about a boy named Zagreus, the son of Hades himself, who is trying to break out of the Underworld. This game is the only one that doesn’t have an entirely original cast--It’s based off Greek Mythology, so naturally, it has Greek gods and goddesses. The soundtrack and artwork are beautiful, and this is the only game to be FULLY VOICE-ACTED. Super immersive and amazing for that. The character designs are also very well done, and it is the first game where you can romance another character. Will you be able to fight your way to the world above, or is there truly no escape?

Please note that Hades is the longest SG game--I find that most of the others can be completed in 15 hours or less, with Pyre being the only one to take me a little longer than that. I hope you all enjoy these games! They’re all pure works of art and I’m so glad I discovered them.

#supergiant #supergiant games #bastion #transistor #pyre #hades

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fascination-street-writing · 4 years

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Stationary Traveler | Chapter I | Prosciutto x F!Reader

In which Prosciutto enlists the aid of a waitress to fulfill a hit placed on two former members of Passione.

Chapter Content Warnings: Smoking & Alcohol Consumption

“How long do I have?”

“One month.”

Prosciutto lifts the blazing cigarette to his lips and nods. Smoke fills the cavities of his lungs and pockets in his mouth. It permeates through the room. Flipping the filter in his grasp, he offers the cigarette to Risotto. Contemplation flashes across his red eyes, yet he does not take it. Prosciutto knows better than to press the matter.

Instead, Risotto thumbs through the dossier atop the desk. Reports and photographs adorn the pages, crudely stamped into place by wired paperclips and transparent tape. “You’re going to Calabria,” the silver-haired man states. “They bled Volpe dry before they fled. But they were sloppy and got caught selling the Boss’s own product outside of his territory.”

They – the targets: Caponata and Tortano.

“They left a trail,” Prosciutto comments, bleakly.

“Indeed, and it turned cold in Calabria two months ago – Tropea, specifically. But we know that they’re still there. Passione has no reach in Vibo Valentia: that territory still belongs to one of the remaining families from La ‘Ndrangheta. There’s a man who owns a restaurant in Tropea. His name is Ditalini Mina. He orchestrates a narcotics ring there, and he pays Passione directly for protection.”

Prosciutto stubs his spent cigarette against the crystalline ashtray. “And?”

“Caponata came to Ditalini,” Risotto says. “And Ditalini sold him out – but he doesn’t know this. You need to get to Ditalini, though he won’t speak to you; it won’t matter to him whether you are from Passione or not. Know this: the Boss has specified that the restaurant owner should not to be harmed. Unless, of course, you find out that he has been in fact aided Caponata.”

“You want me to kill him if he betrayed the Boss,” Prosciutto repeats. “I’m assuming I won’t be compensated any more for this. Why bother?”

Risotto says nothing of the backhanded comment. He points to the roster of Ditalini’s employees. A stack of photograph makes for supplementary viewing. “I recommend that you acquaint yourself with one of his staff – find out what they know before taking matters into your own hands. It might help you to avoid unneeded attention, should you find that the man is working for Caponata.”

The photographs shift as Prosciutto lays them out before him. He notes that only two women work for the man: Farinata Pavone and [Y/N] Una. Either of them will suffice. In his experience, he has found that the lips of a target are easily loosened by expensive gifts or sex. It is a horrible thing to do, using someone like that, and one that he reserves as a last-resort option.

“Ditalini frequents Di Maccu several times a week. But he never goes alone. Perhaps you should start there.”

With a sharp nod, Prosciutto closes the dossier and tucks it betwixt his arm and torso. His evening will be spent pouring over its contents, committing every face and every name to memory. “When do I leave?” he finally asks.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Prosciutto sighs. He cares little for unnecessarily arduous contracts, and this is no exception – he is paid to take lives, not to play detective. Yet, he is grateful for the work.

“I suppose I better start packing then,” he concludes with a sigh. After all, this job has never been easy.

The air within Di Maccu smells faintly of cinnamon and bergamot, courtesy of the incense burning atop the mantle of the sealed fireplace. An English song echoes through the speakers. The words are foreign to many of the bar’s occupants; yet this has never stopped the younger crowds from swaying in their seats as they upheld conversations amongst each other.

For un mercoledì sera, the bar is considerably full. The table nearest to the front door is occupied by three employees from the restaurant Il Basilico Sospeso: Farinata, a waitress and woman of twenty-six with a deep affinity for clubbing; Pandoro, a line cook who had first been hired as a young boy assigned to washing dishes; and the owner Ditalini Mina, an older man who colors the silver steaks in his greying hair with gawdy black dye like epoxy paint.

As she lowers the martini, Farinata’s voice slips from her mouth in chorus to the young pop-star’s ballad. In the waitress’s state of unassuming lucidity, she effortlessly slips into the foreign language of the singer and hums along.

Ditalini smirks over the rim of his frosted pint glass. Pandoro releases a cloud of white smoke into the air before offering his cigarette to the singing woman. She plucks it from his fingers with greed. Her red lipstick stains the wax paper. Ditalini taps the face of his studded watch. “What’s taking her so long?” he asks, his speech cutting above the music.

Farinata shrugs and flicks ashes away from the smoldering cigarette. “Maybe she died,” she says in a tone that might suggest that she is only joking. “I’ll text her.”

Pandoro leans back in his chair and points towards the window that hangs above their table. “No need,” he insists. “Here she comes now.”

The door opens, sending a ring through the cramped bar as the bell above the arch jingles. Several patrons turn to observe you – the new customer – but mostly everyone else remains focused on their own drinks. Hair sticks to your face, plastered by a light sheen of sweat. You slump down in the unoccupied chair across from Ditalini. Your coworkers gawk at you with grins. You wonder if Pandoro knows that his bottom row of teeth is filled with rot.

“Took you long enough!” Farinata berates. She holds the cigarette out to you, which you promptly refuse and instead move to fix your own hair via the guidance of your reflection in the window.

“Sorry I’m late,” you huff, digging through your purse for your money and photo identification card. “Trish needed help with her book report.”

“A book report?” Pandoro snorts. “This late in the evening?”

“Did I mention how it’s due tomorrow morning and she waited until tonight to start it?”

Ditalini brushes away fallen cigarette ashes with the back of his hand. “Well, you sister set you an hour back,” he chortles. “You have a lot of catching up to do – go on, get your drink. We’re not going anywhere.”

You do not need to be told twice. The sound of your kitten heels clacking off the brick floors is lost to the thrum of laughter and music. The line at the end of the bar is wrapped all the way back to the jukebox. The only empty barstool is the second one from the rightmost end, nearest the line, and is sandwiched between two men. The first man strikes up a conversation with the woman to his left – who, you think, is admittedly too pretty for him. The second man stares at the bottles of fruit-flavored rums straight ahead of him. You cannot help but to notice his peculiarly styled hair, held in place by four vertically braided buns at the back of his blonde head.

You weigh your options and decide that you do not have the patience (for it never has been a virtue of yours) to stand in the line. So, you settle for the barstool. It creaks beneath your weight and scuttles against the floor. The bartender – aptly Maccu himself – takes your awaiting identification card. His trained eyes scan over the finest details of lamination and creasing. Satisfied that you are of the legal drinking age, he returns the card and places a cork coaster before you.

“What can I get for you?” he asks.

“A vodka cranberry, per favore.”

“Lime?”

“Sì, grazie.”

“Any preference for your vodka?”

You clutch the wad of cash in your hand. “Whatever’s cheapest,” you specify.

“Make it a Grey Goose.” Maccu’s head snaps in the direction of the raspy tone belonging to the blonde man seated next to you; the man’s interjection has surprised you both. “Put it on my tab.”

With a quick smile, the bartender reaches for the top-self liquors. “Thank you,” you tell the man beside you. “But you didn’t need to do that.”

"Forgive my intrusion. It’s just that you look like someone who’s had a difficult day,” he nonchalantly insists, as if it is his custom to buy expensive drinks for strangers. You take note of your appearance in the wall mirror; its honesty is frightening compared to the sight that greeted you in the window. You swipe the back of your hand across your puffed, swollen eyes – you have bled your makeup dry. “None of that cheap American shit is going to make you feel any better. In fact, I would hardly call it vodka.”

You humor him: “That’s an astute observation. My mother isn’t doing well – that’s all.”

He hums to himself and returns to the bourbon that has been watered down by the melting block of ice. Despite his initial cordiality, he has made it painfully obvious that he does not genuinely wish to hold a conversation with you. Perhaps it is because of the bombshell you have only just dropped – perhaps you have killed the mood.

You were not late this evening because of Trish’s procrastination over a school assignment; in truth, there is no book report either. Your tardiness could only be blamed by an urgent phone call from your mother’s doctor. It is a challenge in and of itself to face your coworkers (whom you do not entirely care for) when you have just been told that your mother is dying.

Maccu places your purple drink atop the coaster. You thank him and squeeze the lime into the glass. Loosened seeds filter past the floating ice cubes and settle at the bottom of the glass like sediment. Your mother may be close to death’s door, but you deserve a night out nonetheless; Trish herself had insisted it.

You turn to the blonde man. “My name’s [Y/N], by the way.”

He looks up from his drink and offers his name with a faint smirk: “Prosciutto.”

You take a sip of your beverage and wince at the chill that bites at your teeth. Though your coworkers are waiting for your return, you refuse to go back. Considering your circumstances, it is not the best night to put up with Farinata’s drunken clinginess or Pandoro’s eccentricities, or to mask your annoyances with geniality.

This goes without saying that Ditalini brings about an entirely new level of discomfort for you; he unnerves you to your very core. You have worked for him for months now, and still that feeling of anxiousness gnaws at you every time you see him. In the beginning, it had been the intimidation – that he is your boss and you a new employee with limited work experience. He never hesitated to reprimand you in front of the others whenever you over-poured liquor or lost track of the rotation. But you were quick to learn. You had to be.

Ditalini has high expectations, and waitstaff is expendable.

You remember the night of the incident too clearly. You were leaving for the evening, and you used the backdoor that lead to the parking lot to exit the restaurant. And there, just before the dumpsters, stood your boss and a customer. You recognized the latter as one of your own patrons, and he had left you a sizeable tip. He held an oddly shaped parcel in his hands. Ditalini paged through a booklet of money. You had not meant for them to see you.

Ditalini’s reaction to your unwarranted intrusion had consisted only of a simple wave and a toothy grin. Among many things, you like to think that you are not a terribly ignorant person. It is not exactly a secret to the locals of Tropea that Ditalini had come from old mafia family roots, or that he used Il Basilico Sospeso as his own money-laundering scapegoat. The restaurant simply could not get by on selling underpriced beers and antipasto platters alone. You often wonder whether cocaine sales are tax deductible or not.

The very next day, Ditalini had pulled you into his office and ushered you to sit in the armchair across from his oak desk. The leather crinkled upon contact, contorting like the skin of a spoiled plum. You felt as if you were in a doctor’s office, under the scrutiny of a specialist; your boss certainly watched you the same way as your former family practitioner. You were prepared to be fired or shot in the head. Instead, Ditalini merely requested that you accompany him and the others on their weekly sojourns to Di Maccu.

You were quick to suspect the man’s ulterior motives: he sought to placate your silence with a false sense of comradery.

Downing the rest of your drink, you glance over at the table. Ditalini peers at you and rolls his emptied glass in the air as if he is contemplating another round. You turn away with a shudder. Regret is a familiar friend – you chastise yourself for finally caving into his request. You set your finished glass on the coaster. The man, Prosciutto has downed his bourbon as well. He places a hand inside his dark blue suit jacket; the sleeve shimmies up his arm just enough to reveal a silver-plated wristwatch. The corner of an MS cigarette carton pokes through his inner jacket pocket.

“Do you smoke?” he suddenly asks you.

Your eyes meet his steel-blue gaze. You think, as you take in his composed appearance, that he looks out of place in this bar. An expertly tailored suit and a large gold pendant hanging from his neck – not to mention his wristwatch – are not part of the typical uniform of the usual crowd. Di Maccu is certainly not the glitzy cocktail bar that would otherwise compliment Prosciutto’s fashion choices. He cocks a blonde eyebrow at you; you realize that your hesitation to respond has irked him.

“No, I don’t,” you tell him. Even his cigarettes are expensive.

He nods before resting his coaster on top of his bourbon glass. His form disappears as he slips through the backdoor and into the parking lot. Before he slipped away, you noticed a silver-plated lighter in his hand. It matches his wristwatch.

There is no policy that prohibits smoking inside of Maccu’s bar. Farinata and Pandoro have already demonstrated that. And yet, the handsome blonde stranger dubbed Prosciutto took himself outside to do it. Perhaps his decision was made of respect – otherwise, it came from an unspoken desire to escape from the noise confined within the bar’s walls.

Maccu comes by to collect your empty glass. “How much was my drink?” you ask him.

“13,000 lire.”

You count the proper amount and tuck it beneath Prosciutto’s cup. While you appreciate his gesture of goodwill, you cannot allow him to pay for your drink. You know well enough that a stranger in a bar would only do such a thing if he was looking for a quickie in the bathroom. Tonight is not the night for that.

Your purse begins to vibrate. You sort through discarded gum wrappers and dried mascara cartilages to find your cell phone. The bright green light of its face glares up at you

Trish – 2 New Messages:

can u come home

please i dont want 2 b alone

Ditalini stops you at the door. His hand rests on your bare shoulder, his skin calloused like sandpaper. You tug away from him, cautious not to draw attention from your other coworkers. “Is everything alright, bella?” he questions; the slur of his speech implies his intoxication, as if you could not already detect it on his breath.

You nod fervently and clutch your purse. “Trish needs my help again, that’s all,” you tell him. You feign disappointment. This seems to please him. “So, I’m heading home.”

“Would you like me to drive you? It’s late, you know.”

“No, grazie però.” You reply too hastily, but he does not notice the inflection. “I don’t live too far from here.”

And you are gone before he can protest.

| 2688 Words |

* Please note that future chapters will only be posted to Ao3 - you can find the link to my profile under my navigation tab

#prosciutto x reader #prosciutto #la squadra #jjba reader insert #jjba x reader #vento aureo #golden wind

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justcallmenikki7 · 4 years

Text

BTS Reaction To: You Are the Lead Singer in a Rock Band

Summary: you’re the lead singer in a rock band

Warnings: fluff, the appearance of All Time Low and Pierce the Veil, fluff, slight mention of Jungkook getting turned on, crack, Namjoon breaking readers guitar and reader wanting to kill him (lmao), understanding bts.

Request:

Hello, can u do a bts reaction to the reader (their gf) being the lead singer in a rock /metal band?

W.C.: 2.5k

Notes: ooof, my life has been freaking hectic.

Jin:

You were upset.

You always became upset when it was the last leg of your tour. Touring was a huge part of your life – seeing your fans who have supported you since the beginning, meeting them, and connecting with them. You knew that you always will see them again and be on that tour bus with your band members, but it still did not make you feel any better.

The sounds of your fans screaming could be heard from your dressing room, a sound that you will forever love. You were putting on your eye make up when your boyfriend, Seokjin, walked in with your stage outfit, holding a shocked look on his face.

“Why do you have that look on your face?” You asked with a small smile, only to be given a ‘what the fuck’ look in return.

“You’re really asking me that question?” Jin asked, “You’re wearing this outfit? What are you going for? A dead bride?” He asked, not knowing that he hit the jackpot.

“Actually, yes.” You answered, laughing at the confused look. “Remember? The last leg of the tour is all about the first album ‘The Dead Bride’?”

Making an ‘oh’ face at your explanation, your boyfriend sat the outfit down on the couch, walking up to you. He could sense your mood, a frown showing on his face. “You’re upset.” He stated, smirking at your face. “You know that I can sense whenever you’re upset. And I am assuming its because of the last leg of the tour.”

“How do you know me so well?” You sarcastically asked but sinking into his touch. “I just hate the thought of the tour being almost over. I just wish it could last forever.”

“I feel the exact same way, sweetheart.” He stated, only to chuckle a few seconds later, “You are exactly like Kook, he always becomes upset when tour is almost over.” Pausing, “Just remember, you have only three more months before Warped Tour starts, and you’ll be able to see All Time Low!”

“Two Minutes!” Your manager yelled.

“Yeah, you’re right…” You trailed off.

“I’m always right. I am Worldwide Smart Guy,” Seokjin said proudly, smiling at you through the mirror. “Now, go out there in your dead bride dress, and scream your lungs off. But not all of the way cause you need to save your voice for later tonight. Good luck, sweetheart!” He finished quickly, not giving you a chance to reply.

Yoongi:

Yoongi’s arms are crossed over his chest, body leant against the wall, eyes watching you intensely as you practice. He could not deny that you looked so beautiful in your casual, laid back – but dressed up outfit you were in. He knew that you loved looking presentable, but being comfortable, which is your beanie, ripped skinny jeans, black and white converse, black tank-top topped with a black and white flannel.

Every now and then you would glance to look at your boyfriend, always blushing when you notice that he is staring at you. To make you more flustered, Yoongi would wink at you, smirking at how you would try to hide your face with your hair. Once you were done speaking to your band members, you made your way to Yoongi. Smiling up at your boyfriend once you got to him, you allowed him to pull you in for a quick peck on the lips.

“What did you think?” You asked curiously, resting your head on his chest.

“I think you are badass.” Your boyfriend stated, bringing a blush to your cheeks.

“You think so?” You asked, insecure laced in your tone.

Looking down at you with a blank face, “You’re really an idiot sometimes.” Yoongi commented, earning a glare from you. “You have sold out three stadiums, performed at the Wembley stadium, and you’re questioning your ability to perform, play both guitar and drums, and sing like an angel? Damn, I am doing terrible as a boyfriend…” Yoongi trailed off, shaking his head.

Tears pricked your eyes, emotions overwhelming your senses, which led to you crashing your lips on Yoongis. Yoongi chuckled into the kiss, his smile having you pull away because his smile is rarely shown, so whenever he does smile, you cherish it.

“What?” Yoongi dragged out the ‘a,’ a whine gracing his voice. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cause you’re beautiful when you smile,” you cheekily said, earning an eyeroll from the silver haired male.

“Okay you love birds,” your manager spoke, scaring the two of you. “Enough with the lovey dovy stuff, Y/N has to finish vocal warmups.”

Hoseok:

The first time you met Hoseok was when BTS was touring in the United States, the same time you were on tour – ironically in the same state. You were at a bar with your band, getting a drink after a concert. As you were heading to the bathroom, you bumped into a smiling man who was a little drunk off of whiskey. The sum it up, he pulled a terrible pick-up-line that he knew in English and you could not help but fall for him.

So, five months later, the both of you are dating.

Truthfully, Hoseok was shocked to learn that you were in an Alternative band, especially being the lead singer. When he found out that you could scream several lines without hurting your vocal cords, he somehow fell more in love with you. But he could not deny that he sometimes worried about you.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Hoseok asked, wanting to make sure that you are up for this song. He knew that you struggle with this particular song since it has more aggression than your usual mellow, upbeat songs.

“Yes, Hobi, I am sure about this.” You chuckled, giving him a weird look.

“I know, but I worry about you hurting yourself by overdoing it.” He sighed, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

Smiling wide up at him, heart beating just a little quicker by how loved and cared for you are by this man. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Don’t worry, I know my limits, like you know yours when it comes to dancing. So, if it doesn’t feel right during the performance, I’ll tone it down and give you our hand signal to let you know.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

Namjoon:

“Namjoon!” You screeched, heart stopping for just a quick second due to scene that is appearing right in front of you.

Your boyfriend, Namjoon, the clumsiest man you know, is handling your precious baby, Lydia. Turning around with an innocent look on his face, Namjoon watched you run up towards him like a mad woman. “What? What’s wrong?” He asked, oblivious to what is happening.

Grabbing Lydia, ever so gently but quickly, you took your pride and joy in your hands, holding her to your chest to protect her. “Are you okay, my precious little one.”

Realizing what is going on, Namjoon’s faced morphed into a rejected look. “Did you seriously think I was going to break your guitar?”

“Her name is Lydia.”

Scoffing, “You name your guitars?” He asked incredulously.

“Are you calling me crazy?”

“What? What – are you serious?”

“Are you?”

“No? I am just offended that you would think I’d break your guitar by just holding it—”

“-Her name is Lydia. And yes, you broke a glass floor, Namjoon.”

“You know what, I am ending this conversation and going to go and get me a pop.”

Looking at him with wide eyes, you could tell that you made him feel bad. So, quickly putting away Lydia, you grabbed your other guitar, Leo, and chased after your boyfriend. Jumping in front of him, you realized that you surprised him by your sudden appearance. A wide grin was on your face, now becoming skeptical by your actions.

“Are you okay, baby?”

“Yes! I’m sorry for making you feel bad – no, don’t try and deny it – so I wanted to apologize by giving, well, not giving, letting you play with Leo!” You said excitedly, handing Leo over to Namjoon, who hesitantly took into his hold. “Go ahead!” You encouraged your boyfriend to play your guitar. With one strum, two out of the six strings snapped, causing a yelp to escape from Namjoon.

Your face was blank whereas Namjoon’s held a scared look. “Uh, baby?” He asked after two minutes of silence.

“You have five seconds to start running before I kill you.” You stated in a mono tone.

Turning around, Namjoon took off into a full sprint, wanting to get away from you as quick as he could, not wanting to be taking on your wrath.

Jimin:

“So, you’re the Park Jimin that our Y/N talks about.” Alex Gaskarth assumed, walking up to Jimin with Jack Barakat and Vic Feuentes behind him.

Internally, Jimin felt intimidated, but on the outside, he tried to stay calm. Jimin knows that Alex is a sweetheart, but he always knew that the man was never afraid to approach someone and tell them how he feels. With that, he knew that All Time Low and everyone on Warped Tour were protective of you because of how young and likeable you are. Plus, everyone viewed you as their little sister – the little sister with her first boyfriend.

“Yes, I am.” Jimin smiled, bowing at the group of men.

“How long have you known Y/N?” Jack asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“We met in May of 2019, have been dating since August of 2019. So, a year and two months now.”

The group of three men looked at each other, silently communicating with each other. “So,” Vic started, “What are your intentions with Y/N?” He asked, trying to not laugh at the blush on Jimin’s face.

“Well, I really do like her, love her actually. And, if things go as planned, I see myself with her for the rest of my life.”

The three men tried to not ‘awe’ at the orange haired man’s admission. As Alex was going to ask his next question, your voice cut him off, now having the four men attention.

“Guys! Do not scare Jimin away!” You exclaimed, running to your boyfriends’ side.

Even with the crazy hair and dark eye makeup, Jimin still thought you looked so beautiful.

“Oh, that’d be impossible.” Jack commented, smirk on his face.

“Very impossible.” Alex added, giving Jack and Vic a knowing look, a look that confused you greatly, but a look that Jimin knew which had him blushing.

“Okaaay,” you replied awkwardly. Looking up at Jimin, you smiled to him. “In This Moment is about to start! I want you to watch them live cause they are so good!” You stated before dragging your boyfriend away.

“He’s so going to propose to her soon.” Alex stated, earning a nod from the other two men.

Taehyung:

“I’m confused.” Taehyung admitted, catching your attention from on the stage.

“About what?” You asked, jumping off of the stage and walking over to your boyfriend who was seated in the first row.

“How are you able to scream and not lose your voice? Like, one time I yelled, and I lost it instantly! Do you have some sort of voodoo stuff to help you with that? What is your secret?!” Your boyfriend burst, catching you off guard.

“Uh, I guess it’s just from practice? Chris from Motionless in White and Maria Brink from In This Moment have been my mentors ever since I have begun my career.” You commented, laughing at Taehyung’s face morph into an understanding look.

“Wait. The scary guy and girl that I have seen you in pictures with?” He asked, causing you to laugh.

“Yes, those two.” You answered, “And they are not scary, it’s just their makeup and how they seem on stage and in music videos. I used to think the same thing until I talked to them.”

Taehyung was quiet for a moment. “So, would you teach me how to scream?” He asked in all seriousness. “I want to learn how you do it and maybe we can be the power screaming couple.”

You choked on your spit. “Are you serious?”

“Does it look like I am not serious?”

“I mean it does, but I just want to be sure. Plus, you’ll have to talk to Bang PD and see what he thinks.”

At your comment, Taehyung reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Clicking a few buttons, he put the phone to his answer. After a few words and silent moments, he hung up and put the phone in his pocket. “Bang agreed. But he wants me to have professional help and a lot of vocal coaches.”

Smirking to yourself, “Okay, I’ll give Chris and Maria a call and we can set up a day to begin!” You said excitedly, laughing at your boyfriends scared look.

“Wait! I didn’t say them!”

Jungkook:

Jungkook and the rest of BTS were seated in a VIP section while they waited for you to perform. Jungkook was antsy, this being the first time watching you perform live and seeing you in your, and in your joking words, ‘Emo clothes.’

“Are you nervous, Kookie?” Taehyung asked, noticing how antsy Jungkook was due to his constant need to be bouncing on the top of his toes. Taehyung’s question caught the other members attention.

“You okay, Kook?” Namjoon asked, giving a once over Jungkook, automatically noticing his younger brother’s nervousness.

“Yeah, I’m just a little nervous I guess.”

“Awe, how cute!” Seokjin exclaimed, making a baby face at his Maknae, earning a glare from the younger one.

“Now! Dear Me is on!” The announcer yelled into the microphone, earning cheers from the stadium and BTS.

Jungkook’s jaw dropped as he saw you walk onto stage in your performing clothes, clothes that made Jungkook sweat at his brow. He could not deny that you looked both innocent and sexy at the same time, the aura that you carried making you look unstoppable. Gulping, Jungkook tried to get his mind out of the gutter, wanting to focus on your performance. The other members could not help but chuckle at Jungkook’s reaction.

Once the concert was over, Jungkook was blushing severely when you walked up to him, a huge grin on your face, a grin only he and performers knew when they had the best concert ever.

“So!” You began, “What’d you think?”

Before Jungkook answered, Taehyung walked up with Hoseok on behind, the two men throwing their arms over Jungkook’s shoulders. “Oh, Y/N, Jungkook loved the concert.” Taehyung began, smirk on his face.

“A little too much.” Hoseok finished, a smirk on his face also.

Realizing what they meant, your face heated up, earning laughs and cheers from everyone around you besides Jungkook who was feeling the exact same way.

138 notes · View notes

lovemesomesurveys · 3 years

Text

[pinkchocolate @ bzoink]

Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Hmm. Nope.

Speaking of animals, do you have any pets? If you do, what are their favourite treats? Yep, I have a doggo named Princess Leia. <3 She’s not picky haha she’ll take pretty much whatever. I do find it funny how much she seems to love lettuce and zucchini, though lol.

Did you ever have a crush on any 90's TV stars, or pop stars? Yeah, like Justin Timberlake, Freddie Prinze Jr., Josh Hartnett...

Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? I’m trying to because my mom took a week off this week so I want to try and do something. The beach would definitely be involved.

Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? I do with killer whales.

In terms of clothing, are there any colours that you don't wear or colours that you feel don't suit you? I avoid white cause I most definitely will spill something on it.

When was the last time you went to a department store? Did you buy anything, on that occasion? A couple weeks ago and bought food.

As a teenager, did you read many magazines? Did you have a favourite, or any that you subscribed to? Yeah, I was super into like Tiger Beat, Bop, CosmoGirl, etc. I always put up the posters and I loved making collages.

What colour is your library card, if you have one? I don’t have one.

Were there any businesses you were fond of that unfortunately closed down permanently, as a result of the pandemic? Fortunately, no, I don’t think so.

Do you enjoy energy drinks? What kind(s)? The white chocolate Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink.

Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? I’m an Apple gal.

Have you ever had a work colleague that you didn't like/found annoying? --

Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? There isn’t one who always does, but certain ones with certain songs, sure.

And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yes.

Does your place of employment have a uniform? What colour is it? --

Have you ever found yourself attracted to a friend's sibling? How did that turn out? Nope.

Do you know of any songs that were popular, in the year that you were born? Yeah, Lovesong by The Cure is one of them.

If you wear make-up, do you pay attention to the shelf life or just use the product until it runs out? I paid attention to how long I had it and swapped it out every few months or so.

Have you ever allowed yourself to drift away from a friend and then regretted it? What happened? Yes, that’s happened a few times.

In terms of friendships, how important do you think it is, to share some common interests? In some cases, is it enough to simply like each other as people? I mean, I want to have some things in common that we can bond over, talk about, and enjoy together.

Name an item in your kitchen that is your favourite colour. I have several favorite colors, though.

If you could go back in time 10 years, what would you say to your past self? Take better care of yourself.

During the last week, has anything caused you to shake with laughter? No. I haven’t laughed that hard in a very long time. I don’t even remember to be honest.

Do you own any check patterned shirts? Nope.

What about shirts with stripes on them? I don’t think so.

Has anyone you know started a new job recently? Do they seem to enjoy it? Yes, my brother had his first day at his new job today, actually. He said it went well and thinks he’s going to really like working there. He’s doing exactly what he wants to do and went to school for, so.

During the last week, have you met, or been introduced to anyone new? If so, what was your first impression of that person? Nope.

The last time you went shopping, did you pick up any bargains? Yeah, I did some online shopping earlier and there was a sale going on plus I had some discount codes.

Do you own any bags or purses in your favourite colour? Yeah.

Have you seen a butterfly at any time recently? Not that I can recall.

Describe your most comfortable pair of shoes. I’m assuming my Adidas are comfortable, but as a paraplegic I can’t say for sure.

Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Willow Rose, Mary Stone, and AJ Rivers.

The last aroma you smelled - was it pleasant or unpleasant? Pleasant; it was my Funfetti ice cream milkshake.

Are there any ornaments in the room you're in? What do they look like? No.

Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? Yeah, I’ve been enjoying my feed on here lately because all the autumn blogs I follow are active now and it gets me excited for that time of year.

Do you know anyone named Aidan? Tell me a little about that person. No. I just think of the character from Braceface cause I’ve been watching that lately lol.

Is anyone you know into vintage or retro styles of clothing? Yeah.

Have you drank any fruit flavoured beverages today? Nope.

What carbonated beverages do you have in your fridge at the moment? Dr. Pepper, Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, Diet Root Beer, and bottled Mexican Coke.

Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? I’m thinking of making a bologna sandwich in a bit.

Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? Possibly, but none I’m aware of.

Did you ever have a woodwork class in school? If so, did you ever make anything that you were proud of? Yes. I remember attempting a small dollhouse.

If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? The PMS is the worst of it for me, it kicks my ass.

Is there any food in your house that has purple packaging? *shrug* Possibly.

Do you know anyone else with the same first name as you? How many people? Yeah, a couple. I knew a a few growing up as Stephanie seemed to be a very common name at the time.

What colour are the cushions on your living room couch? Gray.

Approximately how much time have you spent online so far today? Not much, actually. Just a few hours total, which is a short amount of time for me for sure.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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bunnis-babes · 4 years

Note

Could I request a Kiri scenario, (along with two other class 1-a characters that you choose :) ) where he’s got a fem s/o who was a child actress on broadway who transferred to UA for high school, who still occasionally does shows? Really specific but I’m in a mood lol :P

Kirishima, Todoroki, and Kaminari with a child/broadway star love!

Alright, this is the shit I’ve been waiting for all of my life! I’m so excited to write this you have no idea! Like, ugh, I’m bubbling with joy!!! Also, like I’m assuming that reader is a western star, so she’s not as known in Japan… idk man please don’t yell at me.

Kirishima

🍒He’s probably semi-aware of the western star scene, like he knows a few songs from there and he can recognize a few faces, but that’s about all he can do.

🍒How he initially finds out is by hearing her singing one of her old songs to herself while they were just hanging out. He recognizes her voice and is like, ‘oh cool, she sounds like that one American star.’

🍒He tells her how her voice is pretty and how she kind of sounds like one of his favorite American singers - who he can’t recall the name of

“Oh, yeah that’s me, haha.”

“Bi- wha- excuse me what?”

🍒He is so shocked, but also so amazed and proud and happy and its like - woah she’s so cool.

🍒Immediately compliments her on her voice, and tells her how amazing and talented she is - probably asks her a million questions about her life as a star.

🍒He’s just so surprised and so in awe and is just so happy for her.

🍒After he finds out he probably does some research about her career. What she did specifically, what fans she had, how famous was she.

🍒Dives deep into it and winds up spending his entire night listening to her music, watching her shows, looking at fan content - and he winds up falling in love with it.

🍒Tiredly tells her about it the next day and is excitedly telling her and the Bakusquad about how cool and talented she is.

🍒Other than that, he doesn’t really make a big deal about it, though, pretty aware of how stressful the attention a star gets can be. He doesn’t want her to have to go through that with her own class so he’s pretty quiet about it all.

🍒Asks her to sing for him when he can’t sleep, because her voice is just so soft and soothing and it’s like the only thing that can make him relax.

🍒Honestly, it doesn’t really affect his opinion of her all that much. She’s still his girlfriend, now she just so happens to be a western star. Cool.

🍒Which is a pretty cool thing for them, because something like that shouldn’t affect how she’s treated anyway.

Todoroki

🔥This boy doesn’t know anything about American culture, like at all. No clue. Nothing.

❄️So its simple to say that he has no clue who his girlfriend is, and probably never would’ve figured it out had she not pointed it out to him.

🔥It was so casual too, they wanted to find something to watch, and she requested that they watch an old recording of one of the musicals she did - and he was like ‘oh okay’ expecting it to be like a goofy middle school play.

❄️No, it was not a middle school play, it was a full on professional musical performance, with her as the big star in all of it. So, to say he was blown away was an understatement. He had no words for how he felt.

🔥When she asked what he thought he couldn’t even speak, he was just staring blankly at the screen trying to put a sentence together in his mind.

❄️When he finally did speak all he could manage was, “It was good.” He was just so awestruck he couldn’t function, and he needs some time alone to process what he just saw.

🔥Once he finally gets his thoughts together he goes to find his girlfriend and finally gets all his thoughts out on how amazing he thought she did and how interesting he found the show. He does ask if they could watch more together sometime - and of course they do.

❄️Other than that he isn’t all that vocal about it, he doesn’t really see it as that big of a deal, just a cute thing that his girlfriend does from time to time. So he probably mentions it causally one day to 1-A and everyone fucking looses their mind, like 1) they’re living with a star 2) He doesn’t even give a shit that his girlfriend is a star???

🔥The entire class then finds out that she’s in a show in Japan currently, and Todoroki was going to go and see it without them? Uh, no. Suddenly all of the class is at her show the night it opens, and she just has to act like its normal that her entire class knows about this thing she’s kept relatively secret since she came to Japan.

❄️Todoroki apologizes for letting it slip after the show, which she assures is totally fine, but maybe he should be more careful next time. Then she is torn away by her too impressed classmates and she’s unable to really be with him all night.

🔥When they finally get back to the dorms, she locks herself away in Todoroki’s room and finally relaxes in his arms. She’s just happy to get the affection from him, cause it what she’s been craving all night.

❄️The two of them cuddle the night away, and talk about mindless things, then just before she falls asleep she hears Todoroki whisper,

“You did great tonight...”

Kaminari

⚡️Chances are he probably knew she was on broadway, he just had no clue that it was her on broadway.

⚡️I mean he’s super invested in western pop culture, but he’s also very dense, so he probably knew who she was and just didn’t connect the dots.

⚡️When she mentions it so offhandedly in a conversation, like it was just an after thought, he freaking explodes and is just like: “Holy shit you’re her??? I love your stuff babe!!!”

“Then how come you didn’t recognize me dumbass?”

⚡️He wonders why she left to come to UA, not that being a hero is a bad thing to want, but why give up such an amazing life for this one?

⚡️She just explains calmly it wasn’t for her, and she would rather be here with him and helping people who need it most.

⚡️He finds that so freaking cool, like wow she’s pretty, talented, and selfless? I love her even more now!

⚡️After she explains that he totally asks for her autograph, and he absolutely frames whatever it is she signs.

⚡️It becomes and inside joke of sorts, because he wants her to sign everything like: “Babe, would you sign my coffee mug?”

“Of course, I’d be more than happy to!”

⚡️Everyone else is weirded out by it, but neither of them seem to care at all. It’s almost cute.

⚡️He does a lot of bragging about it too, like “Oh, did you know my girlfriend a super famous star in the west? Isn’t she just the freaking best, don’t you just love her?”

⚡️Yes Denki, now shut up please.

⚡️But for real, he thinks she is just the coolest freaking person ever, and he will never stop telling her that because she needs to know.

⚡️”Babe, you’re the best. You know that?”

“Yes, you told me literally ten seconds ago.”

⚡️She’ll never tell him to stop, though, it’s way to freaking cute to stop.

A/N: I’m so sorry about this, it’s awful and I know it. I hope you can forgive me and enjoy it for what it is? Again I’m so sorry.

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nautiscarader · 4 years

Text

Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show), Zalissa (Melizack)

Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show),

Zalissa (Melizack) (Milo Murphy’s Law), E, 1.8k

(Ao3)

If you liked my story, here’s a Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️.

Prompt suggested by @vickyships

=================

- Nervous, mister Underwood? Is it your first time live on air?

Melissa's voice brought Zack from his short moment of thoughtfulness.

- Me? - Zack returned a cocky smile Melissa blessed him with - Are you kidding? We've been through tougher times. And why did you call me that? - Journalistic integrity. Gotta stay professional, since, you know, we are a thing. - Uh, babe, the entire school knows we are a thing, so- - I know, but let's pretend. - she cut him off - Ssh, we're going live.

Melissa gave him a quick wink and slid the headphones on, just as Lydia, sitting behind glass in the director's room opposite them was giving them signals. She silently counted from five to one, and when the red "On Air" lamp above them turned on, her confident, alluring voice filled the recording room.

- And now, Danville, welcome to another episode of "Chased into the spotlight", a programme where your humble host, Melissa Chase, interviews your favourite local celebrities, idols, oddballs, or whomever is available.

She spoke the intro on a single breath, giving her boyfriend a subtle wink at the end of her opening line.

- Today's guest has moved into our town only a couple of years ago, but he has already made a name for himself, though I will most certainly try to uncover a bit of his past. How are you doing, Zack? - I am fine, Melissa, and thanks for inviting me. - Oh, it is my pleasure for having you.

Her smirk widened just a bit as she spoke those words, prompting a sudden twitch from her interlocutor sitting opposite her. As if nothing has happened, Melissa casually looked at her list of questions and continued.

- Zack, most people know you for being cool, laid-back guy and a loyal friend, but only some of us have heard about your passions and talents. Would you care to tell us about them? - Well, I guess it started when I was a young kid, I liked dressing up for Halloween and that kinda led me to getting interested in theatre and dancing, and I guess singing. - Interesting... - Melissa toyed with her pen, and took one end of it into her mouth, gently grazing it with her teeth - Were you interesting in role-playing? Wearing costumes? Assuming different characters, to enact some of your... fantasies?

Melissa might have wondered about it before, but there was no mistake now - in the lights of the recording studio, she could easily see droplets of sweat on Zack's forehead forming as her words left her mouth, still forming an alluring connection with the pen.

- Uh, well, you-you can say tha-that... - And you have played roles, singing in your boy band, "Lumberzacks". - Melissa interrupted him - Oh, uh, yes. - ... which was of course called "Lumbermaxes", before the lead singer, Max, left, leaving you in charge. Tell me, how does it feel to be chosen as the dominant alpha male of your group? - Wha-what do you mea-AA!

Zack yelped and put hands over his mouth when he felt something smooth sliding up his leg, right up to his crotch. Neither the listeners, nor Lydia could see what Melissa was doing with her feet underneath the table, but neither the pop-filter, nor the equipment could hide his ecstatic voice.

- Impressive vocal range - Melissa commented without missing a beat - Why don't we listen to a clip of your song, long enough to let our viewers experience your talent, and short enough to avoid our channel being taken down by copyright bots?

She nodded towards Lydia, and the familiar tune of a lumberjack-themed song started seeping from the speakers, giving the two a short moment to breathe, though Zack evidently needed it more.

- Mel! - he spoke in half-whisper - What the what was that?

His girlfriend graced him with another smirk, as her foot slid from her shoe and started climbing up his leg again. She looked at the equalised of his microphone and watched as the waves of his breathing osculate with each inch she was travelling up. Their eyes met, and as she travelled up, Melissa wondered if she made the right choice. Though he was nervous, her boyfriend didn't let her know she has won, until her toes found the familiar thickness hidden in the left leg of his jeans. She moved her toes back and forth around his head, until in the corner of her eye Melissa noticed Lydia signalling the end of the clip.

At once, Melissa retracted her foot from between his legs, seeing longing in his eyes and fixed her position in the chair.

- And that was "Forest Fire of My Heart", which I understand you also co-wrote? - Uh, yes - Zack grunted - Usually Max was the head writer, but this is the one song where I proved that I am skilled not only in using my mouth, but also my fingers...

Zack leaned forward, eager to see Melissa's eye widen as hers, but instead, Melissa let out a short and quiet snort.

- Be-because I had to ty-type the song on-on my PC... - Of course.

Melissa restrained herself from bursting into laughter.

- Tell me, in the song, you sing about "Burning wood" and "Fire consuming your body".

She once again half-closed her eyes, and lowered her voice into a seductive, alluring range, accentuating the innuendos.

- Were you describing- - Love.

Zack answered at once.

- I was writing about love, warming one's soul, heart and mind, love that if left unspent can burn bridges and forests. I was thinking, seeing into the future, perhaps, about a flame with a flaming red hair that I will meet one day and make her cheeks burn with the same fire...

It was time for Melissa to stare at her sly-looking lover with a dumbfounded, empty expression on her face, while the room and the airwaves were filled with nothing but silence for a solid twenty seconds.

- Uhm, this-this is all the time we have for today, Lu-Lumberzacks are about to have a- uh, reunion charity concert on Saturday, and you can buy the-the tickets on our website, though I should warn you, the first row is already sold out because I will buy all of them.

She waved quickly at Lydia to end the recording early, and soon as the red light above them and the one behind the glass were turned off, Melissa regained some confidence in her voice.

- How much time do we have till next classes? - Fifteen minutes. - Perfect. - And keep the headphones on, you look sexy in it - Zack spoke just as Melissa was about to take it off.

The sound-proof walls contained Melissa's shriek that escaped her mouth when Zack grabbed her waist and lifted her up just so he can slam her against the table. Anticipating his move, she spread her legs, and the second he slid between them, they closed behind his back in a tight lock, and a quick kick to his ass made him press his crotch against her wet sex.

While his lips found hers, her hands at once dashed between their heated bodies, to the same length she was massaging through his jeans, and after a few seconds of fumbling, he slid into her delicate palm. She wished they had time for delicate foreplay, but the heat burning between her legs told her she needs a far, far quicker fix for that.

She ended their ravenous kiss just so she could hear his voice cracking when his cock's head pushed aside the strip of her soaked panties and parted her puffy lips, followed by a savoured, blissful moment of tranquillity. But metaphorical tables were turned pretty quickly on her, when Zack used those few seconds to gather strength and sank inside her in one, smooth move which made Melissa's body arch as her senses were overwhelmed by her lover's filling her up.

- You... you would like this to be live, on air, wouldn't you...?

Melissa taunted him, eager to see his eyes widen at her salacious proposal.

- I want to proclaim my love to you to the who-whole school... - he grunted leaning against her for a kiss - And the nation. Even world. - And space, don't forget that. We know they got your songs out there...

Picking up speed, the two lovers moved in unison, racing both together and against each other, with the words of Zack's song still in their heads. Melissa didn't know whether it was poor air conditioning, or maybe their bodies grinding against each other have made the wooden table catch fire, but with each second she felt her core superheating.

- Me-Melissa... - Zack groaned, feeling the same overwhelming need in his loins - Where- - Inside - she answered at once in a broken voice - i want your seed to extinguish the fire inside me...

Those were the last words Melissa could speak with a clear mind. Melissa's final moan rivalled his grunts, and the sound-proof room trapped them around the two, just as their mouths joined again, rocking their shared climax that made the table slam against the wall with each thrust of Zack's hips and each portion of his cum that flooded her womb.

After another minute or so, the aggressive noise died down, just as the first wave of blissful afterglow began engulfing the two young adults. Zack gave Melissa a charming smile, leaned against her, and Melissa automatically closed her eyes, waiting for her lover's lips... But after a while of waiting she realised something must have gone wrong.

When she looked at him again, she saw a terrified look in his eyes, fixated at some point behind her, and when she tilted her head back, she noticed a single figure in the director's room that was lit once again.

Even with the image of her friend upside-down, Melissa could spot Lydia's burning cheeks and equally frightened look on her face, as the poor soul didn't know how to react to finding her friends in flagranti. Slowly, she decided to back away, though she never took her eyes (nor her phone) away from Zack and Melissa's half-naked, tangled bodies, until the director's room was empty once more.

- Well, I think we should count our blessings. - Zack huffed - If it was Milo, we would be live and everyone would hear us. - Are you saying everyone won't hear about it? - Melissa raised her eyebrow, and cupped his face to give him a kiss. - Get ready for an extra amount of awkward interviews for the next few days. Also, I am going to take the headset home, if you like me wearing it. - Yeah, shame it doesn't go with anything, so you'll have to be naked.

Zack laughed when Melissa gave him a light punch just as the two began to cover up their mess.

#melizack #zalissa #melissa chase #zack underwood #milo murphy's law #nautiscaraderfics #lemon #smutember #smutember2020 #day 1

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tisthenightofthewitch · 5 years

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Ghost’s Tobias Forge talks about being sued by Nameless Ghouls, spurned by the Vatican and immortalized in plastic effigy

When it comes to Swedish bands, Americans tend to think of pop icons like ABBA, black metal acts like Bathory, or the odd alt-rock band like The Cardigans, after which we stop thinking about them at all.But that was before the band Ghost began its slow yet inevitable ascent. Hailing from Linköping, a city in Sweden known for its ornate cathedrals, the bandmembers concealed their secret identities beneath elaborate costumery, a time-tested tradition fostered by bands like Kiss and The Residents.

Occupying centerstage was Papa Emeritus, a skull-faced character fond of ghoulish corpse paint, a high-pointed hat and ornate papal vestments decorated with upside-down crosses. Standing stock-still at the microphone, his face frozen in a miserable scowl, the singer appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be hovering at death’s door or just beyond it. His bandmates, unceremoniously referred to as “Nameless Ghouls,” wore hooded robes and black masks, a look that soon began showing up at European cosplay conventions.

While this combination of corpse-paint, national origin and grinding guitar riffs led some critics to liken their sound to Swedish death metal, the keyboard-heavy liturgical vibe of Ghost’s early music arguably owed more to classic Pink Floyd.

That’s especially true of “Secular Haze,” the breakthrough single from their 2013 sophomore album Infestissumam. Following its release, the band put out the Dave Grohl-produced If You Have Ghost, a five-song covers EP that includes the Roky Erickson song of the same name, as well as renditions of Depeche Mode’s “Waiting for the Night” and, appropriately enough, ABBA’s “Like a Marionette.”

But 2013 also had its share of disappointments, including the ascension of Pope Francis, who was elected on the fifth ballot, thwarting Papa’s hard-fought and highly publicized campaign for the position.

The rest is history, of a sort. Following a series of European dates with Metallica, Ghost are now embarking on an arena tour of their own that will include an Oct. 1 concert headlining the Broadmoor World Arena. Their single “Cirice” won the 2016 Grammy Award for Best Metal Performance, while their most recent album Prequelle and its single “Rats” were respectively nominated in this year’s Best Rock Album and Best Rock Song categories.

Along the way, the band has gone through a succession of Pope characters — Papa Emeritus I, Papa Emeritus II, and Papa Emeritus III — who have since been replaced by the far more kinetic Cardinal Copia, who has more of a mafioso image and hyperactive stage presence. All four frontman roles have been played by Tobias Forge, whose identity was outed two years ago when four former Nameless Ghouls filed a since-dismissed lawsuit alleging unpaid wages.

Ghost have also undertaken a series of musical transitions that became especially obvious with last year’s Prequelle, a concept album that employs the 14th-century black plague as an allegory for our current troubles. While Forge hasn’t fully abandoned his band’s past sound, tracks like “Rats” veer toward the ’70s arena-rock sound of Def Leppard, Foreigner, and even Journey, with whom the band toured last year.

In the following interview, Forge holds forth on a wide array of subjects, including litigious ex-Ghouls, the Swedish anti-vaccine movement and his alter-ego’s forthcoming immortalization — alongside legendary artists like Prince and Jean-Michel Basquiat — as a Funko Pop! figurine.

Indy: Let’s begin by talking about the concept behind your most recent album. It opens with that really creepy version of “Ring Around the Rosie, ” which is always a good way to start an album about the bubonic plague. Was there any specific reason why you chose that theme at this particular point in history?

Tobias Forge: Well, I think there are important lessons to be learned from all chapters of history. The plague was an epidemic that wiped out half of Europe, and, we can assume, traumatized the Asian population as well. And back then, people in general were uneducated, they were superstitious, they were religious, they believed in hocus-pocus. So it must have literally felt like the end of the world was just going to happen tomorrow. And that is always an interesting concept. Because we know now that it was not the end of the world. You know, mankind persevered. So while I believe in environmental issues, and that there are a lot of things that can be done in order to make the world a better place, I also think there’s not as much doom and gloom as it may appear.

So what would you say are the lessons we can learn from that period?

I guess the most simple and most obvious one is that we can debate forever — all day and night — about what happens after we’re dead. But I can promise you that we do not know. We can hope for there to be an afterlife, or 72 virgins, or whatever else is on your wishlist. But there’s no way of knowing. And anyone who tells you that they know, they are lying because they want something from you, or they want you to believe in something. And so I think your time and your energy will be better spent trying to embrace life instead of being wary of death. Because life is fragile, and you don’t know if you’ll have another one.

And then there’s this myriad of human instincts that comes into play when apocalypse is near, and one of them is who’s to blame for this, that, and the other. Back in the plague days, as I said, there was this predominance of religious people who believed in hocus-pocus and were pretty uneducated and pretty fucking dumb. They believed that female sexuality was to blame for essentially God abandoning mankind. So while you had people dying off in droves, you also had these people killing women because they were good-looking or, in one way or another, enticed some sort of sexual arousal. And that was obviously the work of the devil, and while they were alive, they would interfere with the survival of mankind. But unfortunately, those kind of very uneducated and outright stupid people are still well-represented in the world, and it’s very important that we address that.

Since you’ve researched and written about all this, I’m curious what you think about your country’s decision, back in March, to ban mandatory vaccinations.

Oh, that’s a good question, but I don’t really have a good answer. But I do think that there is a dichotomy between what the population might need, and what a pharmaceutical company needs for its own benefit. I’m trying not to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but about 10 years ago, there was an outbreak of a flu, and companies would have entire offices vaccinated. And, on first glance, it’s like, “That’s great how society and all these bosses and corporations came together.” And I’m aware that the number of people that actually came down with it was not that many. So was that because of this shot, or was it because maybe the threat wasn’t as great as they were saying it was? Because, more often than not, there’s an economic incentive somewhere for someone. But not being a biologist nor a chemist, I don’t know anything about stuff like that. So, as I said, I don’t have a straight answer.

On a happier note, Funko’s Papa Emeritus II doll came out last month…

Yes, speaking of monetaries. [Laughs.]

That’s right. And I have to say, I’m really impressed by how realistic it is, especially in the way it just stands there and doesn’t do anything. How does it feel to be immortalized in that way?

I don’t really see it as that. I mean, when I sort of regard anything that we have done, even a photo, I don’t necessarily think of it as me being in that photo. I’m just sort of detached from the character on the visual side, which is to my benefit, actually. I’m way too vain, so I would have had a problem if it was my face that we were working with. So having the sort of official visuals of Ghost is actually quite liberating.

I understand that you started out playing in punk and death metal bands. Was Ghost the first time that you got to indulge your pre-The Wall Pink Floyd side?

No, I have played non-death metal in other bands before. But when Ghost started taking shape, I think I just found a way to write songs that sort of tick both boxes — one box being melodic pop-rock, or whatever it is, and the other being sort of metal. It felt playful, and it felt intuitive and progressive, for lack of a more fitting word. Whereas in the past, it’s like the metal bands were metal, and the rock bands were rock, and they didn’t combine the two. So I definitely found it more effective, and way more fun, to do something in between. Your stage presence is way more kinetic these days, although pretty much anything is more kinetic than standing in front of a microphone and scaring people. But you’re reaching the point now where the choreography in a video like “Rats” is borderline Michael Jackson. Is that the result of having more personal confidence these days?

Yeah, I would definitely say that. There are critics of the band who feel that the less animated version in the beginning was better and more ominous, and that we should still be embracing that. But a lot of the cryptic nature of Papa I was due to being constrained by the costume and the size of the stage.

And now we’re playing bigger places, where there’s way more ground to cover and there isn’t a single cord onstage that you can trip on, so of course you have to move around, right? I mean, if we were onstage now for two hours with that sort of unanimated version we were doing back in 2011, people would be demanding their money back. It’s just part of growing. You can see the same thing if you look at a clip of the Rolling Stones from 1964. Mick Jagger is Mick Jagger, but he’s definitely not the Mick Jagger that you see in 1969 or 1972. It takes time to build that confidence and find your own way of moving around.

I know you campaigned really hard for the pope’s job back in 2013. And I think a lot of your fans were really disappointed when the smoke came up the chimney and it turned out you didn’t get it. Do you think that your losing out to Pope Francis was the result of Vatican corruption?

Sure, most things going on there are because of corruption anyway. So I’m sure that was one of them. Or it might also have been my lack of faith — or my lack monetary means at the time — that prohibited my exaltation within the ranks of the Vatican.

And finally, I have a question about that lawsuit. Do you think that if you’d given names to your Nameless Ghouls, they would have been less vindictive?

You mean, if I’d given them names instead of making them completely anonymous? Probably, I guess. It’s hard to say. Because with most people that are drawn to the performance stage, you do so with a certain inclination to be seen and appreciated. So maybe if our positions were reversed, I would have felt the same way. Until seven or eight years ago, I really wanted to be famous, so my idea of being in a band was definitely different from what it turned out to be.

I’ve been in charge and working on this full-time, nonstop, for 10 years. Other people in Ghost would work a few hours every day, and then, during the four months between tours when I was making a record, they weren’t really doing anything that had to do with Ghost. And since I was representing the band at all of the meetings, I was getting pats on the back and feeling like what I was doing was good. Whereas, if you had nothing to do with the day-to-day stuff, you maybe didn’t get the pat on the back that you needed in order to feel fulfilled in life. So, you know, maybe if they had gotten their name on there, and could at least be recognized in the street, maybe that would have changed things. But on the other hand, I’ve played with others who didn’t give a shit about that happening.

COLORADO SPRINGS INDEPENDENT

#Tobias Forge #Tobias Interview #The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Cardinal Copia

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citizenaycock · 4 years

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Cold War (2018) | Directed and Written by Pawel Pawlikowski

Before getting into Cold War, as a prelude, I’d like to mention a funny documentary the filmmaker Pawel Pawlikowski released back in 1991 called Dostoevsky’s Travels. It follows the great-grandson of the famous Russian writer Fyodor Dostoevsky who died in 1881. Fyodor is generally known as one of the greatest writers of all-time and possibly one of the first modern psychologists, deeply probing the human soul in his work. Great-grandson Dmitri drives a tram in Leningrad, Russia and agrees to go on a speaking tour about his “prophet” Grandfather. He doesn’t do this to pay his respects, but only because he dreams of scraping together enough money to buy a used Mercedes to impress his friends. And he is OBSESSED with buying a Mercedes and knows nothing about his Great-Grandfather. He talks to crowds of intellectuals and hardly has anything to say about his kin Fyodor and just wants to get paid. He buys one Mercedes and it breaks down immediately. He then buys another at the end of the documentary and it gets stolen by bandits. As the doc progresses you see Dmitri is a bit of a numb-skull and a scoundrel. I liked it due to the irony of Dmitiri’s complete uncaring attitude towards Fyodor’s highly regarded esteem, and obviously this absurd infatuation with acquiring a used car as a status symbol compared to his novelist grandfather, who is held up so highly for his spiritual profundity and depth. It’s a great piece of work no one has heard of...part-cautionary Capitalist tale at the end of the Soviet Union, while Cold War is part-cautionary Communist tale post World War II.

Official Trailer for Cold War

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Intro and Technical Specs

To start, my main fear of writing about films I love is that it will suck the joy out of the film itself by looking at it so closely. I have only written in depth about two films, and thus far, am finding it to be the opposite. When going under the microscope, I am just becoming more aware how great a truly well-made film is when breaking it down.

Cold War may be the most beautiful black-and-white film I’ve seen. The category Amazon has placed it in is “Arthouse Drama”. Amazon Studios also is the distributor of the film. My guess is because it did very well at the Cannes Film Festival and Pawlikowski won the Oscar for his previous film Ida in 2013. Sometimes they get it right. To give some more context, I am very familiar with Ida and studied it for research for making my latest short film. I found it interesting Pawlikowski implemented a particular style similar to filmmaker Paul Schraeder’s book, “Transcendental Style in Film”. One aspect of this style pertaining to Ida is the cinematic framing for the action and not moving the camera until the end. He framed his subjects in a squared 4:3 aspect ratio while leaving lots of headroom, sometimes leaving them in the bottom corner of the frame, which carried over to Cold War. I don’t exactly know why he does this, but I have some theories that I will flesh out within the post in depth. While watching, I immediately noticed the grain in the 4K version. I looked it up and the film was shot with an Alexa digital camera and also a 35mm film camera, so apparently they were able to mimic film grain with the Alexa in post to match. A 32mm lenses was used for almost all the shots. According to Pawlikowski it was because this focal length closely mimics the viewing width of the human eye and allows a wide space of action that can fit around the subject(s) in the frame. Similar to Ida, there is no non-diegetic music in the film (music added outside of the film’s music itself) until the closing credits, reminiscent of the French director Bresson.

Opening in Rural Poland

The film opens on the hands of a man playing an instrument that resembles bagpipes, looks handmade and I assume is indigenous to Poland. The camera tilts up to reveal a bright-eyed rural man, and eventually pans over to another interesting looking character playing a violin as they sing together. We soon learn that Wiktor (one of the protagonists) is traveling with two others (Irena and Kaczmarek) and they are recording various forms of folk music unique to the Polish people. Kaczmarek immediately degrades this type of music as “possibly crude” or “too primitive” immediately marking a divide in perspective compared to Irena and Wiktor, who visibly enjoy interacting and recording the villagers’ authentic music.

They soon come to a house where a unique-looking dirty village girl sings a song not accompanied by any instruments. She has deep-set eyes and looks slightly haunted, and the lyrics of the song are about unrequited love. Not a happy song. Wiktor and Irena are enraptured by the raw singing and are recording this. In contrast, Kaczmarek disinterestedly eats soup in the next room, spoon klanking against the bowl, probably interfering with the recording. Kaczmarek is representative of the Communist State for this film, high on bureaucracy and lacking in soul. The song being sung by the little girl is a huge part of the film as a whole. Little do we know (and probably not evident to most who have seen the film) the lyrics tell the story of what happens between the protagonists we are about to follow in the film. The song is called Dwa Serduszka (Two Hearts) and is an authentic Polish folk song like much of the music in the movie. After watching for the first time (I commonly do this) I went online to look up background information and found a very well-made youtube video essay describing the song as being the “Leitmotif” for the film. Leitmotif is a term defined as “a recurrent theme throughout a musical or literary composition, associated with a particular person, idea, or situation”. In this case, the song operates as a direct pointing of what is to happen. The song pops up several times throughout the course of the film, forecasting the fates of the two protagonist lovers, Wiktor and Zula, who are brought together by music.

This “forecasting” I believe goes deeper. It’s as if it is pre-determined. Pre-determined due to the current political environment in Poland and the two characters’ difference in personality and upbringing. Also, most importantly, is because they love each other in a way that seems beyond their control and not a choice, eventually becoming impossible for them to live life without one another. The leitmotif reminds us throughout the film of Wiktor and Zula’s inability to escape their fate, which is already etched in stone by powers beyond their will: Two hearts four eyes Crying all day and night long Dark eyes, you cry because you can't be together You can't be together My mother told me You mustn't fall in love with this boy But I went for him anyway and love him until the end I will love him until the end

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Folk Ensemble

Now we are at a large building which looks to still be in the rural area. Auditions are going to be held here for singers and dancers for a folk ensemble performance. A couple of trucks haul the commoners in and Kaczmarek gives a stately speech to the bunch before cutting inside to everyone waiting to audition for Wiktor and Irena.

We then meet Zula waiting. She elects to audition with another girl, naively, rather than shine in the audition solo. They enter the room to sing for Wiktor and Irena. Wiktor is immediately transfixed and asks Zula to hold on and asks her to sing another song alone. She sings with an authentic, untrained beauty. We also see her feistiness here. It’s obvious Wiktor is smitten and she is marked down to be selected as one of the singers after they exchange a parting look. By now, the framing style of the cinematography is noticeably unique compared to other films. As mentioned in the intro, characters are often framed with lots of headroom and sometimes placed in the bottom of the frame, leaving it mostly open space. My theory on this is that the environment the characters inhabit are shaping their destiny more than the characters’ own free will, therefore their heads are often seen at the bottom with action on top and around them. For example, Communism looms larger than the individual, tamping he or she down (literally) to the bottom of the frame. Not only Communism, but their uncontrollable love for one another, the characters’ upbringing and the people around them with their general wants and needs. These factors shape their present and future more than their own willful, self-determination and I think the filmmaker is aware of this fatalism, yet doesn’t just come and say it because that wouldn’t be interesting. We just see that Wiktor and Zula are never able to comfortably settle anywhere with their love nor escape the love they feel for one another, making their situation impossible due to the circumstances. In Ida, duty to God looms large and so does the characters’ Jewish unknown family past (to only name two) and the shots are framed accordingly as well. On a broad level stepping outside of the film, what’s interesting to me is how much free will do humans actually have and how much is self-determinant? After studying the film closely, this is the deep question (not answer) that I came to that transcends the surface story.

Wiktor watches Zula from a distance outside that evening. Irena then tells him Zula killed her father and did some prison time for it. After rewatching, I suspect that Irena loves Wiktor, and there are a few subtle cues later on that I noticed as well. During private lessons, Wiktor curiously asks Zula what happened between her and her father while Wiktor plays scales on the piano and she matches the notes with her voice. Zula says her father tried to be sexual with her so she stabbed him. It is a very matter-of-fact and short answer. Wiktor doesn’t say anything and continues playing the piano. I’ve thought about this scene more so than any other scene after rewatching. I think it is because of the dialectical nature of Zula saying she stabbed here Dad because he tried to have sex with her, one of the darkest things you could imagine, then the slight humor of Wiktor’s reaction while seamlessly transitioning back to the softness of the piano and her soft voice syncing. Wiktor is very watchful, internal, reserved, most likely from a more refined family and musical background. Zula is tough, spirited, tenacious and has lit a fire in Wiktor. Wiktor is tall and dark-haired. Zula is short and blonde. Opposites!

It is now time to perform for a large audience in a theatre. Wiktor conducts. Zula and about 20 other girls in Polish folk attire sing the leitmotif song that was sung by the young girl earlier. The group sings beautifully. Zula shines in front. Even Kaczmarek on the side of the stage behind the curtain seems to be in awe and carefully walks about as if not to disturb the magic.

Afterwards there is a reception. Wiktor and Irena lean against a large mirrored wall and everyone else in the room is seen in the reflection. When you first watch it, it takes awhile to figure out the orientation of the room due to the mirrored wall. I think this is the most interesting shot of the film. Kaczmarek then gleefully enters frame and says that the performance was so beautiful, calls Wiktor a genius and says it’s the most beautiful day of his life. He really means it and is the most authentic emotion we see from him in the whole film. Previously, Kaczmarek thought all this “folksy stuff” was foolish. There is a funny moment between the three. Wiktor and Irena are obviously moved by this but not sure how to express it as the stately Kaczmarek leans against the mirror with the two. On a second viewing, one sees Zula in the reflection staring at Wiktor the entire time. The two make love soon after in a bathroom at the party.

The Ensemble + The State

The performance is so good, now the State wants to get involved and meets with Wiktor, Irena and Kaczmarek. The government wants to turn the repertoire into a “calling card for our Fatherland” and incorporate “Land Reform”, “World Peace” and a strong number about the “Leader of the World Proletariat”. In return the group will be held in high favor, able to travel to other countries to perform, etc. Irena and Wiktor are visibly uncomfortable with this. Irena speaks first and says thank you but the ensemble is about authentic folk art and the rural population doesn’t sing nor understand these difficult issues. Kaczmarek quickly intervenes and calls the man from the state “comrade” and says the ensemble, on the contrary, will do this after given proper direction. Irena stares him down. Wiktor says nothing. The next performance is stained by a huge tapestry of Stalin behind the singing ensemble. The tone now is more dutiful rather than soulful, as if singing a church hymn they are forced to sing. Zula’s face while singing now lacks the life it possessed in the performance before. The State must extinguish all individuality and uniqueness with the goal to homogenize. Irena’s heart looks broken in the audience. Everyone dutifully rises for applause afterwards and Irena walks out. We do not see her again in the film. Everything has changed.

The stuffiness of the singing troops is saved afterwards by a beautiful shot of Wiktor and Zula laying in a golden wheat field together at dusk. Golden?? The film is in black and white but my mind says “golden”. Birds and crickets sing. Tranquility away from the group.

But it doesn’t last long, as they are unable to run from the larger outside factors. Zula soon confesses that she reports on Wiktor to Kaczmarek about their relationship and the things he tells her. She says it’s because she’s on probation for something and assures Wiktor that it’s nothing that will hurt him, but Wiktor gets up and walks off angrily at a loss for words. As mentioned, the scene starts with their eyes closed as if in a dream, beyond the State, but it's inevitable that the state has to enter their relationship at some point, infecting the dream, and will remain a problem for the rest of their lives. Zula calls him a “bourgeois wanker” as he walks away and she reacts oddly by jumping in a nearby river. As soon as she hits the water, Wiktor stops and turns around. She floats in the river and begins singing the leitmotif song.

The next shot is of the two silently sitting together again in the wheat field at nightfall with a campfire going. Zula’s hair is wet. The two just stare at each other and never say a word. What are they thinking? I think Wiktor is thinking that he can not escape her because of his love and that they are stuck! Zula knows this too. This is a type of love that transcends choice. Just like the State, their love controls them. The silent shot in nature cuts to black, then diverges to a busy train station with a brass band as the ensemble leaves to go to Berlin for a show. Kaczmarek gives a stately speech to the group about their trip. Wiktor meets Zula privately in a train car and lays out a plan for their escape once in Germany to go to France. Zula is nervous she will not be able to make it somewhere other than her homeland Poland due to her inability to speak French and lack of experience. I doubt she has any family to rely on, and at the moment has the ensemble in Poland as a decent occupation. Wiktor assures her she has talent to learn and the most important thing is they’ll be together. They kiss. The performance in Berlin is shot very uniform and proper, perhaps further pointing to its newfound soulless rigidity. Afterwards, Wiktor goes to the meeting place to cross the border. Zula remains at the reception with the comrades and Kaczmarek (as if in a trance) and never shows. Wiktor waits until nightfall and eventually stiffly walks across without her.

Defection

Wiktor is now playing piano in a cool jazz night club in Paris with a band. It is 1954. His beard is now grown out a bit and his hair messier than before. He is now in an empty cafe at closing time and speaks French with the waitress. He seems to have assimilated well here. It is revealed he is waiting for someone. That someone is Zula. She eventually walks in and they stare at one another for a few moments. One look at Wiktor while sitting across from her shows how much he still loves her and has missed her. The actor playing Wiktor, Tomasz Kot, really shows this wonderfully. He is very good at being still yet showing so much. Regarding the performances, this is one of the most authentic love films I’ve seen in a long time. And an expert director and writer doesn’t hurt. The film never feels sappy, in my opinion, while simultaneously remaining very romantic. Zula doesn’t show much and stays cold during this scene, but can’t help but ask, “Are you with someone?” Wiktor is. So is she. He asks if she’s happy. She isn’t, but doesn’t say it. Wiktor knows and walks her to the hotel. She says she wasn’t good enough, not as good as him, to make the escape from Poland to Paris. Wiktor says he believes love is enough. Zula coldly kisses his cheek and then stolidly walks away. Wiktor watches her go. But eventually Zula breaks! She turns back around, walks quickly back and they kiss passionately for a few moments before she leaves again. If one just read this and didn’t watch the film, you might think it seems like any other love story you’ve seen a million times. But to me, because of the authenticity of the performances and lack of constant soundtrack music, it really felt great to see these two embrace again. And I think it proves that moments in movies that may look cliche on paper can be pulled off with a skilled filmmaker and actors. Also, there’s only a few angles that the camera covers in this scene and ALL the scenes really! There’s a graceful economy and no superfluous closeups with unnecessary dialogue. And as mentioned, no outside music booms in like most films commanding you to feel something! You feel it because you feel it, not because you’re told to feel it with an over-bearing soundtrack trying to compensate for lack of performance or direction. Wiktor now walks into his apartment, smokes a cigarette alone deep in thought, then gets in bed with his girlfriend. He tells her he’s just been with the woman of his dreams. She doesn’t seem to care and turns around to go to sleep, highlighting the lax and blase nature of their relationship and possibly Paris artist life as a whole. Wiktor then turns off the lamp and looks up at the ceiling in lovestruck thought.

We are now in Yugoslavia in 1955, which looks much more lush than I would’ve imagined Yugoslavia. Wiktor gets off the train to attend a performance of the ensemble. Kaczmarek quickly greets him at the front of the theatre and is oddly cordial and confident in a sharp suit. Once inside, Zula sees Wiktor in the audience and looks startled. Wiktor looks side to side and men are watching him from the aisles. He is escorted away by authorities yet remains adamant to see Zula rather than be afraid of being thrown in jail or hurt. The first time I watched I thought he was definitely going to be thrown in prison. Kaczmarek obviously ordered the men to take him away and send him home in a train before he could see Zula, because of Kaczmarek’s interest in Zula.

Zula and the ensemble are shown singing the leitmotif song now. Zula notices Wiktor is no longer in his seat. Perhaps he was escorted out at the intermission. She sings with a melancholic intensity. The black-and-white contrast is especially beautiful here, maybe more so than anywhere else in the film. There is a black back drop and all of the singers’ alabaster skin glows, as well as their folk costumes.

Wiktor is back in Paris now and has gotten work as a Film Composer. Two years has passed since the Yugoslavia concert. While in the middle of working on the soundtrack, the side door of the sound stage opens. Wiktor is spellbound as a smiling Zula is revealed.

Zula has married an Italian so she could legally move to France. She says the marriage doesn’t count though because it wasn’t in a church. Neither seem worried about it. This time Zula does not hold back her feelings and, obviously, neither does Wiktor. They make love. They ride on a boat down the Seine at night past the buildings and cathedrals. They messily and drunkenly dance alone at a night club in rapture. Heaven for a moment.

Which begins Zula’s vast transition from the performing rural ensemble in Communist Poland to a solo singer at the Paris jazz club with Wiktor’s band. She sings the emblematic Dwa Serduszka most wonderfully here. Order. Everything in it’s right place. She is luminous as the camera slowly dollies around her, eventually revealing a packed club. Everyone is captivated and still. Then at the end is a lovely moment, maybe my favorite moment of the film, where Wiktor is staring at her intensely and she turns to check in with him and he gives her a nod of approval. It’s almost corny, riding the edge, but is powerful, conveying a silent understanding between the two seeing one another perfectly clearly.

Poles to Parisians

We now are at where Wiktor and Zula live, which looks like a cool version of a converted attic with a Paris view. Juliette, Wiktor’s ex, has translated Dwa Serduszka from Polish to French and Zula is unhappy with the translation, which most likely includes some self-consciousness about her pronunciation. The manner is which the leitmotif song appears here runs parallel to the first step in the descent of the relationship in Paris. Zula is defensive and anxious about the Parisian artistic circle Wiktor has introduced her to and she drinks to ease the anxiety of feeling inferior. Wiktor tells her not to because she is “charme slave” as they say, alluding to how everyone has a narrative role and label in these circles. Zula is becoming difficult and insecure. Wiktor is becoming caught up in the scene and ignorant of Zula’s dramatic change of environment.

The film director at the party looks Zula up and down when they arrive. Wiktor allows this without rebuke, most likely due to the nature of the sexually-lax Parisian art culture. Everyone is beautiful and chic at the party. Zula immediately goes for the drinks. She then sees Juliette and approaches her abruptly (yet with restraint for Zula), subtly challenging her French translation of Dwa Serduzska. Juliette calmly explains her reasoning according to the lyrics’ metaphors. It’s obvious Juliette sees through what’s happening in the situation here.. Juliette’s part is small but the actress is excellent and conveys a lot. She eventually mentions how the transition to Paris must’ve been a shock...the cafes, cinemas, shops, restaurants. Apparently Juliette sees this shock more than Wiktor does. Zula tries to play it cool here but you can see she’s flustered. This is a game she’s not used to playing. She then retorts that her life in Poland was better.

Wiktor is talking to someone and looks over and sees Zula and the Film Director sitting closely, flirting. Zula glances back over at him to see if he cares, but Wiktor stays put. Then later she aggressively confronts him about giving her story “more color”. It is apparent now that he has enhanced her Polish story to seem more dramatic in order to captivate his French friends and colleagues. Wiktor shrugs this off. Zula’s vibe is not carefree and cool like the rest of the party with her straightforward, intense rawness which creates an isolation for herself. She sits in the bathroom now alone, drinking from a bottle, talking to herself in the mirror. She calls Wiktor a jerk, but then says she loves him. She calls herself an idiot at one point. She continues to talk in the mirror as if to console herself. And I can’t help to mention how much she looks like a young Gena Rowlands here. It reminds me of the 1968 film Faces, which is also black and white. They look so much alike, and both fantastic actresses that are blonde, voluptuous and troubled.

Gena Rowlands in Faces (1968)

Joanna Kulig in Cold War (2018) Wiktor, unknowingly and excitedly, opens the bathroom door and says that they’re all going to the Jazz Club now. Zula says she’s a bit sad and wants Wiktor to come in the bathroom with her, but he ignores this and says let’s go. She takes a moment to herself and then it cuts to the club. She looks miserable and wasted sitting at the bar. As we go, I am still noticing the framing I mentioned at the beginning with the subject at the bottom, but for this shot she really seems low!

Her melancholy is interrupted by an upbeat, American song (”Rock Around the Clock Tonight”) and she gets up reinvigorated and starts dancing enthusiastically with a few different guys. The camera goes handheld and is the messiest camerawork of the film (a good messy). She eventually gets sloppy and gets on the bar and almost falls and people drunkenly cheer as Wiktor exasperatedly watches.

youtube

We then see Wiktor carrying her into their room. Zula says he is no longer a man in Paris like he was in Poland, and says she and the director get along well in attempt to get under his skin further. He then sits alone in the dark and smokes a cigarette.

It now cuts to Zula in a sound studio singing into a mic in French. I don’t speak any French, but her accent and pronunciation feels correct, but her spirit is muted...and we soon see one reason why. Wiktor’s voice ominously interrupts her over a speaker behind glass in the recording booth. Now the shot is on him and he looks disheveled and dark and tells Zula they only have 40 minutes left and not to blow it. There is a deep hate in his eyes we haven’t seen yet, perhaps retribution for calling out his manhood and their recent relationship woes. An engineer and the film director are also in the booth. There is just a bad energy in the room and anyone that’s ever tried to perform anything would be able to detect how difficult it would be to bring a great performance here. The music starts back up and Wiktor looks down as if disappointed right before she starts singing.

We are at a listening party now for Zula’s record at the French Director’s apartment. Zula is standing in the middle of the room alone, listening intently as several others sit around in the background drinking champagne. Dwa Serduszka plays, but now in French. It’s okay but not great. It doesn’t have the soul that it had before in Polish. I’m trying to put my finger on it, but the French seems a little stiff and the vocal track seems extra-produced. Too loud and too clear when mixed with the band’s instruments and it’s just not what it was before like the first time at the jazz club, for example. Again, this leitmotif song is also a metaphorical indicator for the stage in the relationship. She looks over at Wiktor who is cooly leaning on the wall off to the side (maybe too cool) and gives Zula a nod similar to his nod after the jazz club performance. But this nod doesn’t have the effect it did then and seems oddly forced. The record playing here in this posh Paris apartment compared to the Polish rural girl singing at the beginning of the film is night and day. It’s obvious why, if you think about it. They’ve taken a folk Polish song, translated it to French for a rural Polish singer, then recorded and produced it in a slick Paris sound studio under difficult conditions. How could the quality not suffer a bit?! Another example of the larger outside obstacles making it impossible for them, even in a free society like Paris, France.

It cuts to them now walking home afterwards. Immediately it’s apparent Zula is unhappy. Wiktor recognizes this but apparently didn’t know while at the party. As they pass a fountain next to the street, Zula throws the record in <splash> yet continues to mostly hold her sadness in, which has become more of a depression at this point. Assimilating is one thing, but they have gotten into this habit of holding back and not being up front, maybe due to the social circles they run in now. Zula cooly mentions that the French Director has fucked her well 6 times and "not like a Polish artist in exile,” which causes an eruption in Wiktor (what she wanted) and he slaps her.

This is strange to mention but, technically, the slap doesn’t sync with the sound. Lol. I watched this part 3 or 4 times to make sure and it just doesn’t (unless there was a lag in the internet connection). Maybe nobody else notices this, but I’ve had to edit-sync slaps, kicks and punches before many times on this very computer and immediately saw something didn’t look/sound right. After the hard slap, Zula raises up and says, “Now we’re talking”, which is sarcastic but also the truth. Often one needs a crisis moment to break out of a behavioral habit and apparently the French translation broke the camel’s back. The next day Wiktor frantically goes to the Director’s apartment looking for Zula. He stomps through the rooms looking for her. The Director then says she went back to Poland. Wiktor slowly walks out of the apartment with a terrified look on his face. Wiktor has become unhinged and plays maniacally on the piano at the Jazz Club. The other band members just stop playing and look at him as he bangs on the keys in isolation. There is some slight comical levity here for a couple of seconds due to the look on the clarinet player’s face. You assume Wiktor has lost his job. He is now miserably pumping coins in a phone booth for talk time to find out where Zula is in Poland. Afterwards, Wiktor goes to what I assume is an embassy. A Polish man at a desk tries to dissuade him from leaving Paris and going back to Poland. You can see the Eiffel Tower outside the window as the man asks Wiktor why he would ever want to leave this place. He says Wiktor doesn’t exist anymore to Poland because he left and let down all the young people he worked with. The man takes a drink from his cup and reacts as if he’s spiked it with something strong, perhaps how he’s able to get through his job. He then mentions there is a way Wiktor can go back if he truly regrets what he has done.

The Exiles Return

It is 1959 and we see Zula back in Poland on a dreary, crowded train with peasants. Soldiers whistle at her as she walks on a snowy road. She has come to visit a very broken, gaunt Wiktor who is being held prisoner by the military for being an exile. He says he has to be here for 15 years and got off lucky. Zula gives the guard what I assume are cigarettes which buys them 10 minutes alone.

His right hand has been beat severely. They kiss and Zula says she will wait for him. Wiktor tells her to find someone else, but Zula says she will get him out.

Cuts to 1964, 5 years later. A performing Zula is on stage singing a ridiculous Latin-infused song with a black wig on, resembling a late Judy Garland. She looks overweight and drunk with her comical, sombrero-wearing band. We now see an older Wiktor backstage with Kaczmarek who is holding an unhappy, despondent child. Kaczmarek doesn’t look like he’s aged a bit and still has a detached soullessness about him. With Kaczmarek, you wait for him to be rude or mean but he is not. He always stays at a steady, robotic hum of cordiality. It is revealed Wiktor can no longer play music because he can no longer use his right hand. It is also now apparent that Zula married Kaczmarek in order for Wiktor to be released. Zula now comes off stage and walks quickly toward them but drunkenly falls down. She manages to rapidly get up and falls directly into Wiktor’s arms, completely disregarding Kaczmarek and her son. They go off to the restroom together and sit on the floor staring at one another. Zula pulls off her wig, perhaps finally able to shed this horrible identity she's had to create to survive.

She asks him to get her out of here...for good.

The two take a crowded bus and get dropped off on a country road next to a lovely field. They look slightly rejuvenated but stolid.

Early in the film, Irena and Wiktor sat in the van while Kaczmarek took a walk to take a pee. Kaczmarek then aimlessly walked into the ruins of this old church. He looked around, then left...point being we’ve seen this place before. And earlier, even Kaczmarek’s face showed a certain amount of reverence for this old church and felt the power it gave off. Wiktor and Zula now enter this same church. There is a circular hole in the ceiling, perhaps so God can see them.

They now kneel with a candle lit in front of them on an alter with a row of white pills. They have a brief, simple marriage ceremony. They both have a glow to them. They cross themselves and mention God. They ingest the pills.

They kiss.

They then sit on a bench at dusk and look out into the field, holding hands, quiet.

You can hear the insects and an occasional bird chirp. Both have dark circles under their eyes. It’s so beautiful yet so sad. Zula then says, “Let’s go to the other side. The view will be better there”. They stand and go, leaving an open frame. A gentle gust blows the wheat from behind where they were sitting. Perhaps God’s sigh...

This last time I watched, the ending really got me...and is powerful now as I write about it. As mentioned in the intro, Pawlikowski’s last film Ida incorporated a particular style. Pawlikowski never moved the camera until the end of that film, so when he did the viewer would be raised up in a transcendental way as the first external music came in, lifting us from the real world for a few moments. I think he did the same thing here with Cold War in a different way. The moment of transcendence for this film comes at the end also but not with the movement of the camera but with the movement of the wheat behind the bench before cutting to black. This film is high on realism, but this gust is something otherworldly, therefore a powerful contrast from the stark, real world tribulations previously in the entirety of the film up to this point. This is what makes it so heartbreaking and beautiful and poetic all at the same time. And also, for a moment, the viewer might weigh whether the fate of Wiktor and Zula is so horrible after all. “for my parents” appears before the credits, pointing to the fact that the story is based on the filmmaker’s parents’ true experience during that time period. Bach’s Goldberg Variations comes in and you know it’s Glen Gould when you hear the humming, which I don’t necessarily like but it doesn’t ruin the mood. Bach was also used for the ending of Ida and is also the only non-diegetic music used for Cold War.

In conclusion, I think every great film has to have a surface story that one can follow and then a large idea hidden within that story (or as a result) to meditate on which includes something deep about the human condition. With some films, one has to work to find out what that larger idea is. For future posts, I may try to specifically focus on this “larger idea” rather that breaking down the entire film. This often appears as a question, not an answer, and Cold War does this masterfully.

#coldwar #pawel pawlikowski #filmmaking #film analysis

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eldritchsurveys · 4 years

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784.

Have you ever worn those Drunk Goggles? >> I vaguely remember seeing those as like a gag gift at Spencer’s or something, but I’ve never worn any. I’ve been drunk, though, so I think I’ve got the experience of wearing Drunk Goggles well covered.

Which decade before the 90s had the best makeup trends? >> I don’t know anything about makeup trends before the eighties, now that I think about it.

Can you agree to disagree, or usually get upset over conflicting views? >> I can be upset sometimes, especially if the thing being debated is something I have a particular personal investment in. But I have learned how to be upset by myself, and not make it anyone else’s problem. (Which leads to a lot of unresolved feelings, I’ve also learned, but hey.)

Does it bug you when long socks are constantly falling down? >> I don’t wear long socks, and that’s one reason why.

Rodeos – entertaining, or cruel? >> I don’t know anything about rodeos and therefore do not have an opinion.

Why can’t politicians debate politely? >> Because it’s assumed that the general public will not remain engaged unless there’s some sort of drama. ...Honestly, I can see where they get that impression, but it can also be alienating for those of us who aren’t looking for entertainment from our politicians.

Who is the best female rocker? Why? >> Floor Jansen is one of my favourites. So is Skin, from Skunk Anansie.

Can you even taste a difference between Cheez Its and Cheez Nips? >> I don’t know, I’ve not had both of them.

What about between Pepsi and Coke or Sprite and 7Up? >> Yeah, I’ve tasted differences between both of those and I have preferences.

Do you care what kind of toilet paper you use? >> Yes, I care. I don’t like either extreme (too rough or too soft).

What color of roses do you find the prettiest? >> I’ve never given it any consideration.

Which celebrity has the cutest butt? >> I don’t know. But Sarah Snook, who plays Siobhan Roy on Succession, has a pretty eye-catching booty.

Do you still have any decent arcades nearby? >> Not to my knowledge.

After a holiday, do you go to the store to get candy on sale? >> No, but I might get some for Sparrow.

Did Marilyn Monroe look better before or after cosmetic surgery? >> ---

Bullfighters who get gored kind of had it coming, right? >> I mean, yeah.

If you make surveys, do you care what people rate them? >> I don’t make them, but if I did, that wouldn’t be a concern of mine. The only time I’m tempted to make a survey is because there are questions that it surprises me that no one ever asks, and that I’d love to answer myself. So I’d be making it for my benefit, primarily, and if anyone else enjoys it then that’s just icing on an already-good cake.

Have you ever accidentally found porn when looking for something else? >> Yeah, but it doesn’t happen much nowadays.

Ever run into those ‘celebrity lookalike porn’ blogs? >> Long time ago, yeah. You know, before tumblr changed its policy.

If you’re not religious, is the Bible basically just an old collection of short stories? >> My understanding of the Bible is that it’s a collection of laws and writings -- stories, poetry, letters, op-ed pieces (lol). The New Testament in particular seems to be just a bunch of letters appended to four different accounts of one dude’s birth and early life and concluded with a really dramatic callout post for the Roman Empire. I am very fond of this giant mishmosh of opinions and dramatically-recounted stories, tbh, it’s really interesting from both a historical and mythological perspective.

Do you think religious leaders just like to manipulate people? >> Of course.

Why do so many fans with OTP’s insist that their ship is real? Even when the writers (or real people that they ship) tell them it isn’t? >> I don’t know. I’ve never really delved into why that’s so important to a lot of fans, although it does intrigue me. I think it might have something to do with the varieties of ways in which people interact with and understand stories, but I’m not able to articulate exactly what I mean right now, I don’t have the words all organised in my brain and ready to go.

Do you draw fanart of anything? >> No, I don’t draw. I write fan fiction.

Do annoying city kids ever loiter outside your library and harass people? >> I’ve never witnessed any harassment outside of a library around here. That seems more likely to have happened in NYC, though.

Do you like to hang out at your local library? >> Occasionally. I used to basically live at the library when I was in the City, because I was homeless. I think I don’t go to the library as often anymore because of that -- it’s registered in my mind as “the place you go and sit in all day because you can’t go anywhere else” and it disorients me if I do it now.

On that subject, do you like the smell of books? >> Some books.

What’s on your Reading List, so-to-speak, right now? >> I’m between books right now. I’m still debating whether I want to try to finish The Denial of Death or whether I want to give it up for now, and the fact that I’ve been debating that for like a week most likely means that I should give it up. I can always pick it up again at a later date.

Read any great non-fiction books lately? >> Sure.

What do you like on your burger? >> Lettuce, onion, bacon, mustard or bbq sauce, some kind of cheese (preferably pepper jack). Jalapeño peppers can be good too.

What do you NOT like on your burger? >> Mayo, sometimes tomato (I go back and forth, it just depends on the day).

Do you like ‘loose meat’ sandwiches? >> I’m not sure what that is, but the name isn’t too enticing, let me tell you.

Have you ever heard of the restaurant Maid Rite? >> No.

What is the best thing to put in a grilled cheese (other than cheese)? >> I don’t even remember what things I like in a grilled cheese, I haven’t had one in ages. Oh! HopCat sells one that has honey and apple in it and that’s pretty good. I do like “weird” grilled cheeses.

Homemade tomato soup, or just out of a can? >> Not out of a can, that’s for sure. There are some premade ones that I do like, but they’re never canned (usually they’ll come in cartons).

Favorite thing to see in museums? >> I like sci-tech museums, so, that stuff.

Have you ever seen an unwrapped mummy in person? >> No.

What things have people shamed you for? >> The kind of music I like, the kind of people I think are pretty, the way I look, the way I behave/my idiosyncrasies, my emotional responses, my needs... I mean, basically almost anything you can think of.

Do you always reply to private messages? (On any website) >> I usually do.

What device do you seem to always be buying batteries for? >> I don’t think anything I currently use takes disposable batteries.

What’s worse – snow, or all the mud after it melts? >> Definitely the latter.

Are there any 'adult stores’ in your area? >> Probably. Not in this city proper, but like... around. Somewhere.

Have you been inside of them/shopped there before? >> I’ve been to a lot of them in NYC.

Do you watch The Masked Singer? Any theories? >> No.

Favorite Alfred Hitchcock film? >> I don’t have one.

Do you like Funko Pop figurines? >> Meh. The novelty wears off pretty quickly.

If so, do you have any? Which ones would you like to have? >> Yeah, having a few is how I know the novelty wears off pretty quickly, hah. I have two Marvel!Heimdalls (from two different movies), a Roland and a Walter from the Dark Tower movie, Jesse and Cassidy from the Preacher TV show, Lucio and Reaper from Overwatch, and Vivec from The Elder Scrolls. I actually had to go looking in the living room because I’d forgotten I had that many. That’s another few items for the donation / giveaway bin...

Which ones do you think they should make (but haven’t yet)? >> At this point, I think they should stop, lmao. There are so fucking many.

#surveys #survey #random survey

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choicesaddictionwriting · 5 years

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Dads | (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

SUMMARY: Kendall and Ethan get to know each other’s respective Father figures and even if they don’t. They might just learn something surprising about each other

TAG LIST: @perriewinklenerdie @bucket-harrington @mfackenthal

WARNING: Brief Suicide mention

Dads | (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Ethan wasn’t asked often to represent the hospital, in official matter or engagements. After the incident at the American Medical Association, the former chief steered clear of it, doing almost anything to avoid it. Much to Ethan’s favour but now Emery was in charge. And she knew him well enough not to let him get away from ‘his responsibilities as one the hospitals most noteworthy spokespeople’. And here Ethan he was just thought he was an employee.

But alas, he had been made to attend an increasing amount of events, representing the hospital. And though he made it through well enough, he made a point to keep lists of all the more important things he could have been doing.

And tonight’s event was no different. The Chief of Cardiology was supposed to attend a speech at one of the support centre associated with the Hospital by one of their biggest donors of their fifth anniversary. She couldn't make it and Emery only thought it would be suitable to send Ethan in her place. He disagreed but nevertheless he was here, though reluctantly.

He knew the only reason he had been asked was that he had cleared his schedule that evening to work on Naveen’s case. Dr Archer had offered to cover for him but he couldn't back out at that point. So here he was sitting in the front row at the Support Centre, surrounded by other Medical professionals from neighbouring hospitals who referred patients and their families here for support. All of them had made a point of making themselves known to him. Besides that, there were other donors, patients both current and former, their families, press and other invested parties. The room was packed enough, he had considered slipping out but the organiser had directed him to his seat personally.

There was no escape.

Eventually, after ten minutes of excruciatingly dull pleasantries and introductions, finally, a tall burly man, not any older than early to mid-fifties, stepped up to the podium to the soundtrack of welcoming applause. Ethan could assume he was the spokesperson of Randolph Productions, the sponsor.

“Good Evening everyone, I would just like to start by thanking you all for attending this event tonight to celebrate five years since the opening of the Goenka Support Centre for those with Terminal Illness and their families,” The man introduced with a dazzling smile and thick accent despite his appearance he came across as quite welcoming, “My name is Declan and I’m a Senior Manager at Randolph Productions and I’m here to tell you all how myself and Michael Randolph, our CEO, set up the Goenka Support Centre network,”

“Dr Banerji?” Kendall asked, popping her head around the door after knocking the best she could with her hands full.

“Ahh, Kendall,” He beamed, resting his book down, “Come on in, what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You texted fifteen minutes ago begging for coffee,” She chuckled, handing him two cups in turn, “Here’s your Chai tea and black coffee,” before opening the brown bag, “And a triple chocolate cookie, fresh from the Cafeteria,”

“Thank you,” He grinned, before handing the coffee back to you, “And that one is for you,”

“I thought you wanted both?”

“Oh no I can’t stand coffee,” He dismissed, blowing on his tea, “I just knew you wouldn't bring yourself a drink, so I made you bring one,”

“How did you know I drank black coffee?” “Your boyfriend told me,” He muttered, amused, into the rim of his cup.

“What?” Kendall questioned, sure he hadn’t said what she had heard, taking a seat in the seat beside him.

“Dr Ramsey, told me,” He corrected, louder this time, with a wicked smile on his face.

“Hmm,” Kendall, entertained but remaining unconvinced, raising a suspicious eyebrow at him, as she took a sip, sighing in delight afterwards, the effects of her fourteen-hour shift momentarily alleviated.

“Ethan, always says the cafeteria coffee is awful,” Dr Banerji commented.

“It is,” Kendall confirmed, “This coffee is from Dr Ramsey’s office,”

“How did you get into his office,”

“I jimmied the lock,” Kendall shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip as his eyes widened at her, she then burst out laughing, “I’m kidding, he gave me a key,”

“He gave you a key?” He questioned, “To his office?”

“Yeah,” Kendall confirmed, dragging it out in confusion.

“Interesting,” He nodded before grinning at her devilishly, “ Anyway I think you know why I called you here…”

“Because Dr Ramsey was called away and you were lonely,” She teased, with a good-natured wink.

Dr Banerji rolled his eyes before straightening up expectantly.

“So you didn’t hear this from me but there is some major drama with the Nurses in ENT,” Kendall began, leaning back in her chair, “And it all started over…you guessed it…Jake,”

“So as you might be able to tell I’m not around here,” Declan continued, “I’m from a County Cork in Ireland. It’s where I was born and raised. I moved to the states when I was 18 which was when I got accepted to Stanford for Engineering. Wasn’t the career I wanted but I was raised to do what my Mam told me, so I went and I’m so glad I did because I hadn’t even been at Stanford for a year when I met my wife, Priya. And she changed my life, in every way. I’ll never forget the first thing she ever said to me. And it was why do they call you a redhead when hair is orange. And from that point on she had and we were together from that day on. Priya was a San Fransisco girl from birth, a party girl and she refused to live according to anyone's rules but her own. She was reckless and free and she lived the life that I wanted. A life following her dream. Everyone told me I was crazy but I married her anyway. I graduated and we had our son. And I decided around a month after he was born that I wanted to be a little like her, so I left a steady engineering job and decided to pursue music, music production might I add. I don’t have any pipes. It was a struggle, we lived off her earnings as a singer in a club, but eventually, I found Mikey and things really started to take off. We had our daughter and for seven years we had a perfect life. Two great kids, a great job, a happy wife, the happiest she’d ever been. I got seven great years. But then everything changed when she got sick,”

Ethan monitored him carefully as he spoke, watching the light in his eyes went from bright to dull as he continued to speak. It was a sense of familiarity that struck him. He couldn't place it and it was the only thing keeping him interested. A natural public speaker this man was not. He tapped his foot and was constantly wiping away imaginary sweat from his forehead. Ethan knew it was going to be a long evening.

“Ahh, Kendall,” Dr Banerji chuckled heartily, squeezing her forearm in delight, “You can’t keep telling me such things while I’m trapped here. You make me wish I was still working, I miss the drama. And I can’t even go marching up to ENT to find out if she picks Jake or Jesse, myself”

“As soon as I know, you’ll know,” She promised, her ribs hurting due to laughing so hard.

“Thank you, Kendall, for staying with me,” He smiled sincerely, taking her hands gratefully in his, “I know your shift ended a while ago,”

“Don’t worry about it,” She dismissed, “I like spending time with you, Sir and you don’t need to ask me to bring you tea to get me here. Even if you just need a chat I’ll come running,”

“I ask you to bring me stuff because Ethan absolutely refuses to let me have anything that isn’t ‘safe’. But I’ll keep that in mind,”

“He’s protective because he cares about you,”

“Oh, I know,” He chuckled, “And I love that boy all the same even if he acts miserable half the time.”

“Has he always been like this?”

“More or less, he’s always been very driven and determined to be the best. And even though I was his teacher I spent the half the time we’ve been together trying to get him to stop taking it all too seriously. But he never listened…well up until recently,” He elaborated before giving Kendall a telling look.

“What do you mean?”

“Kendall, you know what I mean,” He insisted, “Despite everything that’s going on with me, he’s different than he was before and I can only think of one explanation as to why,”

“Are you talking about me?”

“It was little at first. Mood swings, depression but eventually it turned into her not being able to control her leg. And this was over a year and I kept asking her about it and she would keep arguing and arguing. Until eventually she broke down and told me the truth. Earlier the day we had met she had been diagnosed with Huntington’s disease. She was adopted so she didn’t know that she had the gene. And she admitted that the night we met, she was looking for someone just to marry and have a life with before she ran out of time. There was nothing special about me. I was just the first one who showed interest,” He proceeded before pausing, the smile still bright on his face but his whole demeanour was shaken, the whole room was captivated by the tale.

He heard sad stories all day and yet he could feel himself being drawn into this one.

“But I didn’t even time to process that because I was suddenly faced with not only the fact that my wife was dying but my kids might too. I’ll never forget, taking them both to the hospital and demanding someone screen them. I couldn't handle not knowing if I was going to lose my whole family. My son was ten at the time and I remember him telling his baby sister that she was going to be okay because she was terrified. She was only young so she didn’t really know what was happening but obviously that something was wrong. And he was right she was going to be okay because she was clear but he wasn’t. He had the gene. I was going to lose him too,”

“Dr Banerji, I don’t think…” Kendall began.

“Can I tell you story, Dr Archer?” He interrupted and posed.

“Sure,”

“When I was doing my residency all those years ago, I fell in love with one of the other interns that I worked with. Her name was Anna Nolan and she was and still is the smartest and most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was vivacious and she made me feel like I could do anything because she could do anything. I thought I had met my person and I truly believe I did but…” He retold.

“But,” She prompted.

“I had a lot of pressure on me from my parents. They were immigrants and given up everything for me so I felt like I owed them to be successful so very much like Ethan I was very driven to be the best but in spite of that, I couldn't help falling her. Eventually, I had to make a choice, she was offered a job across the country and she wanted me to come with her. And I didn’t, I couldn’t. Time was different back then so gave her the excuse that her family wouldn't accept an Indian man and I broke her heart. But I know deep down I know if I had fought for her we would have made it, overcome it all to be together. But the truth was I was scared, scared to let myself be happy because I felt like I didn’t deserve it.” He continued, beaming wistfully as he did.

“Oh, Dr Banerji,”

“But I did deserve it.” He continued, “I know that now. And letting her go was the worst mistake I ever made.”

“Where’s Anna now?”

“Married, with kids probably with Grandkids by now,”

“I’m so sorry,”

“I’ve come to terms with it,” He sighed, “It was a long time ago. And I found fulfilment in my work and I consider Ethan very much to be my son over my student. So even though I don’t have kids of my own, I have Ethan and I wouldn't change that. But I do know that while being a world-renowned Doctor is nice I don’t think it would have compared to spending my life with Anna.”

“That’s what got Priya. At least that’s what I like to believe. Knowing what she had done to our son because it could have been avoided if she had said something. She killed herself a couple weeks after. Priya lived selfishly and if you ask my daughter she died the same way. Priya was flawed but she was a good person at heart, I know it. But she left me with two kids and I didn’t cope well. I struggled. I could barely look at my kids without wanting to cry, I did anything to avoid coming home. I turned to alcohol. It was like that for five years until my son got sick himself. If you know anything about Huntington’s it’s very rare to get symptoms before thirty. But my boy started displaying them at fifteen. And I had to pull myself out. I couldn't let him lose the time he had. So my parents moved to California and I dedicated my life to him. And I realised it was much better having a support network around me. But I still deal with a lot of pain. I’ve never had time to process my wives death because I needed to take of my son. I still deal with the guilt of not being there for my daughter. To the point where she said to me once she wished that Mommy had loved to want to live because apparently while drunk I had told her that, that is why her Mother killed herself,”

Ethan seized as realisation struck him, grasping the armrest of his chair.

“And even though she says she’s forgiven me, I don’t think I’ve ever forgiven myself. When I close my eyes, I still see her face sometimes, asking me the same question. And knowing I did that to her, I’ll never forgive myself. And I doubt I ever will. ” He took a sharp pause, the tension in the room palpable, even Ethan dared not breath, “It’s why I do this. So no one has to suffer like I do. Like my Kenny does, even when says she doesn’t. I know she does. And it kills me every day.”

“What are saying?” Kendall questioned, cautiously, watching carefully as the sad expression that formed on his features, as the happy memories faded and his eyes flooded with regret.

“What I’m saying is…” He began before pausing and taking in a shaky breath, and Kendall suspected that his shallow breath wasn’t due to anything but the gravity of it all, “I hope he doesn’t make the same mistake I did,”

“What mistake?” She pressed, not understanding what he was saying.

“I really hope he doesn't let you get away, Kendall.”

“I…” She stuttered.

“He looks at you the same way I looked at Anna,” He continued, “And you look at him the same way. I’ve asked Ethan about it and he denies it but he’s really bad at being convincing when he talks about you,”

“He talks about me?”

“Oh yeah,” He nodded, “First it was how annoying and incompetent you were but I’d never seen him get so worked up over an intern but has time went on he got worse at pretending he found you annoying,”

“What does he say?”

“Whenever I tell him to go for it. He gives all these excuses about how he can’t put your career in jeopardy or the teacher relationship you have or even what the hospital would think. But there all excuses, yeah it would be hard but it would be worth it. But he’s too scared to let himself to be happy because he doesn’t think he deserves it. And I worry he’s going to make the same mistake I did by letting you go,” He breathed, patting your hands, “I just want him to be happy and I don’t think he ever will be without you,”

“I want him to be happy too,”

“So you might be wondering what this story, my story has to do with this centre. My partner and I started the Goenka foundation after his wife died of cancer and we realised that we had no support for what happened to us. And if we had maybe we wouldn't have made the same mistakes hurt ourselves and our children the way we did. So as soon as we could open centres like this one to help people with terminal diseases and their families. To give them support, to be there for them. We are proud of the fact that we have now opened twenty-five centres across the country all of them named after my late wife, Priya Goenka, the mother of my kids and the love my life. I also wanted to tell this story to let everyone know that it gets better and you can move on with help. And I hope that we can help you with that if you need it.” He finished up, flashing a smile, Kendall’s smile, “Thank you all so much for listening to me and cheers to a great evening,”

“I have a question,” Ethan asked loudly, right before the applause broke out, Declan stopped and looked straight at him, “What about your children? What happened to them?”

“Well, um,” He began, going back over to the microphone, “My son lives in a residential facility back in Ireland now which is where my parents and I are and my daughter,” He breathed as the biggest smile of the evening formed on his face, “She’s a first-year medical resident at a hospital here in Boston actually. I might be using this trip as an excuse to see her as well as celebrating the clinic. But yeah, she’s doing amazing, graduated the top of the class as med school and now she saves people every day.”

Ethan nodded briskly as the applause started. Everyone began to mill around and Etan made his way over to Kendall’s father.

“Mr Archer,” He greeted.

“Ahh, it’s you,” He smiled, recognising him from the audience straight away, “Thank you for attending…”

“Dr Ramsey,” He offered, “Dr Ethan Ramsey,”

“So you’re doctor, Dr Ramsey,” He commented in surprise.

“You know who I am?”

“You’re my daughter’s boss aren’t you?” He countered, raising a telling eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” He confirmed, waiting for a reaction.

“Well, it’s wonderful to meet you,” He chuckled, taking Ethan by surprise, “My daughter talks about you all the time even before she started at Edenbrook. Pretty sure that she’s your biggest fan,”

“Probably not,” he quipped.

“Why are you giving my girl a hard time?” He questioned.

“A little,” Ethan admitted.

“I know she can handle it,” He smiled, “She’s handled much worse.”

“Yeah,” Ethan nodded, “I just wanted to say that you have an incredible daughter and I think she’s going to be an incredible Doctor someday.”

“Thank you,” Declan Archer said sincerely, shaking Ethan’s hand firmly, “You know what I’m meeting Kendall for dinner in a bit why don’t you come along?”

“I can’t,” Ethan dismissed, “But it was nice to meet you,”

And with that Ethan turned starkly and walked out of the building. He started making the trip back to Edenbrook, to see Naveen. Plus the walk gave him time to consider what he was going to do with all the new information had. Kendall despite her tendency to overshare rarely shared more than superficial facts about her family. And now he knew every detail and even though it wasn’t his fault he felt guilty. Like he intruded on her privacy, unintentionally as no one knew who was being talked about besides him.

He wandered through the doors so lost in his own thoughts that he almost missed Kendall walking in the opposite direction. “Dr Ramsey,” Kendall greeted, casually.

“Kendall…Rookie,” He quickly corrected, regaining composer as fast as he had lost it.

“What are you doing back here?” She questioned, “I thought Emery sent you to some event,”

“I left early,”

“That bad?” She inquired.

“No, it was just…” He struggled to find the words under her gaze.

“Are you okay?” She asked, slightly concerned.

“Do you have a minute?” He eventually let out.

“Sure,” She agreed, shakily, before they walked silently up to his office.

They remained that way until he shut the door. Leaning against it as she wandered into the office before turning to face him.

“What did you want to talk about, Dr Ramsey?” Kendall asked, curiously.

“The Goenka Centre,” He admitted, “Your parents,”

“I knew he flew in for a reason,” Kendall sighed in understanding, taking a seat on his couch, “Crazy to think it was all about seeing me,”

“Why did you never say anything?”

“I’m not involved and that’s my choice. I didn’t even know there was in Boston,” She admitted, “So you heard about it all right, the story, everything?”

He nodded.

“Are you going to treat me differently?”

“Of course not,”

“Then it’s okay,” She concluded, “You probably would have found out eventually, the gory details and all,”

“If I had known,” He started again.

“I choose to live without myself being defined by all that,” Kendall shrugged, “You should too.”

“What?”

“Live without fear, Dr Ramsey.”

“It’s not that easy for everyone,”

“Maybe you’re just overcomplicating it,”

“What are talking about ?” Ethan interrupted.

“Nothing,” She dismissed, “Is that all?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ethan nodded, taking way for her to pass.

She smiled at him as she walked past him.

“One more thing,” Ethan quickly added.

“Hmm?”

“I’m really sorry for what happened,”

“You don’t have to be,” She responded, placing a hand on his cheek, “And for what it’s worth I’m sorry too,”

“For what?”

“I know how hard it is to let go of fear.”

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey op #ethan x mc #ethan x kendall #open heart #open heart fan fiction #choices #choices fanfiction #choices fandom #playchoices #play choices #playchoices fandom #choicesaddictionwriting

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years

Text

Good Trousers

anonymous said: Can i request a Roger x Reader imagine where the reader has a girl band and he and the guys spot them at the recording studio and Roger asks the reader out? Pleeease ♥️ (love your blog btw)

“I’m hungry, does anyone want to go grab a bite while we wait for Fred to get done?” Deacon said, hopping up off the couch and brushing his jeans off.

“I’ll go with,” Roger immediately replied, climbing up from where he’d been laying on the floor. Freddie was currently recording vocals and, of course, was taking a lifetime to do so. He’d actually almost put Roger to sleep down there, so Roger was happy to get up and walk around for a moment. He needed to wake up if he was going to be worth anything on the set later.

Brian agreed too, grabbing his coat and pulling it on as they exited the tech booth, arguing about where to go that was nearby. Roger wanted a sandwich, but Deacon wanted Thai food.

Their argument, egged on by Brian, almost made them ignore the partially open door that they passed by on the way out, but Deacon was the first to stop, a bassline that made his heart beat out of time catching his attention. It was loud, gruff, and irregular - and he loved the sound of it. So did Roger and Brian, who quickly latched on to what was distracting Deacon.

Roger’s curiosity getting the better of him, he just had to peek through the doorway and see who was in for recording today. Although he wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he looked inside the recording booth, it certainly wasn’t what he witnessed.

Instead of a grungy-looking dude in bell-bottoms and a denim vest over a hairy chest, he found… well, you. And he was blown away by how casually you were playing such a mean bass riff, the look on your face absolutely detached from the magic your fingers were playing out on your strings. You had two other women in the studio with you, one behind the drum set and fidgeting with her throne while the other was tuning what Roger assumed was her guitar.

He pulled his head back and looked at Deacon and Brian in amazement, almost feeling out of breath from what he’d just seen.

“Who is it?” Deacon asked, peeking around Roger as Brian peered inside, witnessing the last part of the riff before it suddenly cut out. Roger was somewhat disappointed as he heard you stop playing, Deacon huffed slightly as he’d missed the chance to witness another bass player in more action than he’d been today.

Not even one of the trio was expecting you to poke your head out of the door and speak to them, so they all jumped when you suddenly appeared. “Er, hello, are you boys lost?” you asked, Roger smoothing out his shirt and hoping that you hadn’t noticed how much you’d just shaken him when you popped up. “You looked like you were looking for someone,” you continued, pulling your headphones down off your head and resting them around your neck as you straightened up a bit, opening the door more and smiling at them.

“Oh, no,” Deacon replied quickly, smiling quite bashfully as he rubbed his neck and glanced at the other two boys. “We stopped because we heard you playing. Well, I stopped. They followed. Anyway, it was brilliant.”

“You like it?” you asked, grinning widely and stepping out into the hallway with them, closing the door behind you. “It’s something new I’ve been working on for our album, I didn’t want to call in a studio bassist.”

“Our album,” Roger repeated under his breath, raising an eyebrow as he did so and looking you up and down quickly. “What’s your band’s name? Might want to look you up, you were killing it in there.”

You rattled off a name he hadn’t heard of before, and Brian nodded as you began to talk casually, like explaining your life story to them would be no big deal at all. You had the charisma of a lead singer for sure, very different from Deacon. “Yeah, we have more of a cult following here in the UK right now, rather than anything global, I guess. But we’re all-female, so that’s to be expected in this industry…”

As you talked, Roger couldn’t help but look you over again, slower this time. His eyes traced over your facial features, admiring the alluring look you gave off with all of the conviction you put into every expression. His eyes then worked downwards towards your outfit, which he actually adored a lot. You were in a vibrant white and red blouse, the floral pattern just odd enough to draw attention but not stealing the show like Freddie’s ensembles usually did. Your red trainers and stonewashed denim jeans didn’t steal away from the blouse, which kept distracting Roger to the point where you were beginning to notice. And he was starting to notice that you were noticing.

“I’m sorry, I am listening, I swear it,” Roger laughed, scratching the side of his head for a moment before looking directly at you with an innocent look to his beautiful blue eyes. “I was just admiring your blouse, love. It’s beautiful, where did you get it?”

Brian and Deacon almost laughed as they realized Roger was already going to start turning on the charm, and Brian interjected quickly. “We’re going to go on ahead, you’ll catch up, yeah?” he asked, patting Roger’s arm as they both passed. Roger nodded, Brian bidding you farewell before he and Deacy left the building. You were momentarily distracted, but Roger’s doe eyes lured you back in and you laughed, forgetting all about the question he’d just asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask who you boys were?”

“Oh, I’m Roger,” he introduced, holding out his hand, which you took gently. It was a big rough, more calloused than you’d expected, so you weren’t surprised at what he said next as he shook your hand. “I’m the drummer. That was Brian and John, our guitarist and bass player. I’m assuming you’re the bass player for your group?”

“Bass and lead singer,” you clarified, Roger nodding and dropping your hand after a small squeeze. “Where’s your singer? You all look so familiar.”

“Still recording, I’m afraid,” Roger chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And we’re Queen.”

Your lips went into an o-shape for a second, and then you laughed. “Of course, that’s why you all look so familiar.” After a moment where you looked him up and down, you grinned cheekily. You’d seen him in tabloids before, and he was far more intimidating there than he was in person. Granted, he was still overwhelming in person, but you weren’t the type to let that get to you. The fact that you found him to be gorgeous only fueled your repartee. “You’re not quite as large and in charge in person, eh?”

Roger scoffed at that, looking down at himself for a moment before giving you a funny look. He’d rarely met a woman as confident in their words as him, if not more. “You think so? Ouch, I thought I kept a pretty consistent image. I even wore my good trousers today.”

Laughing as he posed a bit, showing off his corduroy trousers, you shook your head, then put your hands in your back pockets and shifted your weight to the other foot. Your stance was a bit powerful, almost intimidating, and alarms starting going off in Roger’s head as he realized you were a personality to be reckoned with. Half of his brain was screaming at him to back down. The other half? Well, it was taking it as a challenge.

“You seem a bit more aggressive in print,” was your observation, and Roger almost pouted at the fact that you didn’t find him aggressive in person. “Right now, you’re just a bit of a pretty boy, to be honest.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Roger chuckled, crossing his arms in a playful manner and raising an eyebrow. “I find that to be a compliment, sweetheart. At least I’ve got balance, and you find me attractive. Win-win!”

He had you there. You did find him attractive, plain and simple. “If you want to take it that way, be my guest, love,” you countered just as playfully, remaining in the same power stance and raising an eyebrow as if to provoke a response.

“I think…” Roger mused, pretending to rub his chin thoughtfully, which just kind of made him look like a dork to you, “I think I will. That way, when I ask you on a date, I’m at least going into it knowing you think I’m a looker.”

As he said the word ‘date,’ you recoiled your head a bit in surprise. You didn’t feel disgust or apprehension, just intrigue at how confidently he’d inserted that into his banter. Also, it was a bit corny. But he was still cute in a cheesy way, and you were single, so why not? “Honestly, mate?” you laughed, pulling your hands out of your back pockets and stretching a bit before heading back to the booth’s door. “You’re not as smooth as I expected. You should feel lucky that I’m going to agree to a date regardless.”

Roger grinned toothily, following you to the door and putting a hand over the handle so you couldn’t go back in yet. “Not my best work, I’ll admit it, but is that a yes?”

You smiled somewhat and glanced up at him for a moment, then grabbed the pen from your pocket and uncapped it as you took his hand that was on the doorknob. Carefully, you wrote your home phone number on the back of his hand as he watched the cap of the pen perched between your teeth, which was drawing attention to your lips. Roger quickly licked his own lips, trying not to focus on yours too much, and resumed his toothy smile as you dropped his hand, capping the pen again.

With a knowing smile and a nod, you went back into the booth without another word and left Roger standing there in the hallway, plans to call you as soon as he got done with this bloody recording session already quickly forming in his mind.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen #queen imagine

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