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rockstar-pornograffitti · 1 year

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Picture This

Rick Savage x OC {Casey Spencer}

Part: I

Plot: Casey Spencer is an aspiring rock photographer, who just got the chance of a life time as the photographer for Def Leppard new picture book. What she didn’t expect is to find love along the way.

A/N: Comments are always welcome!

Casey’s POV

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I can’t believe I’m actually doing it, that I’m here. That me, Casey Spencer, a rancher's daughter, is taking photos of Def Leppard. It’s been my dream my whole life to be a rock and metal photographer. I know it’s an odd dream for someone who grew up around cowboys and country music. Yet I've loved metal and rock since I first heard it as a kid. The first time I heard those screaming guitars, I was hooked, then I picked up a camera and realised my dream.

Of course I was born at the end of the 20th century, so unfortunately for me it’s not like you can exactly make a living off that alone. It’s not like people are scrambling for photos of old rock stars. So to make money I do wedding photography and other things on the side. I still go to tons of rock concerts and post the photos I take on my social media. I have a pretty large following, and I sell a few prints on my website as well, but I’m far from massive or well known.

I think that’s why it came to me as such a shock when I got the call. It was hard to believe I was chosen as the photographer for the Def Leppard photo book they plan to put out, and that I’d be with them for a whole tour. It almost feels like I’m back in the 80s, and I’m nervous as hell about it.

I know I can take pretty good photos, but Def Leppard are rock legends, good isn’t good enough. They need to be the best thing I’ve ever done, I want to impress them, after all this is a huge break for me. Not to mention def leppard is one of my favourite bands ever, I grew up with posters on them on my wall. I’ve seen them live like 4 times, and own all their records. I have to do them justice. I mean sure they’re all in their 60’a but they all still look good, and therefore deserve to be captured in the most beautiful way possible.

I take one final deep breath as I knock on the door of the dressing room, this is where I meet the band for the first time and my assignment begins. I’m supposed to get more than just staged photos and live shots, also some more candid photos of them backstage and offstage as well. It’s supposed to show all of the tour experience.

I smile as the door opens, and there stands Joe Elliott himself in the flesh a foot away from me. He looks a little shocked to see me standing there at first, but once he spots the camera bag hanging off my shoulder and the crew pass hanging off my neck I think he puts two and two together.

“I’m Casey Spencer, the photographer.” I say, just to confirm the conclusion he’s most likely already come to on his own.

“You’re a woman?” He says, sounding shocked and it’s not that surprising to me. Casey happens to be a unisex name, and it’s definitely more popular for men in my neck of the woods, so this has been happening to me my whole life.

“Last time I checked.” I say, looking down my shirt for an added effect, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’m Joe Elliott.” He says, moving aside. “Come on in, and I’m sorry I was just expecting a man because of your name.”

“Thanks, and don't worry about it.” I say walking into the dressing room, stopping dead in my tracks as I look to the left and see Rick Savage, standing there shirtless.

I can feel the blush creeping across my cheeks. I mean sure I’ve seen him shirtless in photos, but it’s a lot different to see it in person. It almost feels like it’s something I shouldn’t be seeing, considering the fact I just kind of walked in here and he probably isn’t expecting me.

Clearly he feels the same because the moment he notices me he grabs for the nearest shirt pulling it on over his perfect chest. I quickly look away as I feel his eyes meet mine, I’d rather he didn’t know I was just gawking at him. I mean I haven’t even officially met him yet.

“I’m sorry about that, love.” He apologises giving me a smile and I can’t help but notice how beautiful his smile is in person. I mean yes in photos it is gorgeous but in person it’s even more so. “I’m Rick Savage, and you are?”

“I’m Casey Spencer, I’ll be your photographer for the tour.” I tell him, doing the typical Montana thing of offering up a handshake when you meet someone new.

“It’s nice meeting you, love.” He says with a smile, accepting my handshake. Just as Viv, Phil and Rick all round the corner. Phil of course is shirtless, showing off his perfectly toned body, but unlike Sav it’s not overly shocking. If he was wearing a shirt it would probably be more shocking, and he’s not really my type. I prefer men with a little chub on them, someone more like Sav.

“Hey, guys. I'm Casey, the new photographer.” I tell them, giving them all a friendly wave.

“Lovely to meet you.” Phil says, giving me a smile.

“I’m Vivian. It’s nice to meet you.” Says Vivian, returning my wave.

“Rick and it’s great to meet you.” Rick says last, giving me a friendly smile.

“I promise you guys I won’t be in the way.” I tell them, making my point by moving to the side of the room. “And if I am, please tell me.”

The last thing I want to do is be a hindrance in any way. I try to be the least annoying person alive. So I hope to keep to that, I’ll be taking lots of photos but I’ll be doing it in the least invasive way possible.

“You won’t be in the way, love.” Sav informs me, “and even if you are we expected you to be a bit.”

“It doesn’t matter if you expect it, just tell me anyways, I don’t mind moving.” I tell him, “I better get going on these photos.”

“Do you want us to pose or anything?” Joe asks.

“No, I want some more candid shots.” I tell them, as I begin setting up my camera and adjusting the setting correctly for the lighting. “I’ll take some staged ones after the concert.”

“Alright works for me.” Joe shrugs, going back to whatever he’s doing.

I pick up my camera and peer through the viewfinder at my first target Phil. He’s sitting a few feet from me doing crunches or pulls up or something. I don't know the terms for workouts. What I do know though is I’m sure these are the kind of photos his fans would eat up, so I line up the camera making a few adjustments before snapping a bunch in a row.

That’s the key to making sure you at least get one keeper, taking a lot of photos. It's especially true when you aren’t staging a photo and therefore can’t manipulate the outcome.

Once I’m finished, I take a quick look through them on the screen and decide I have a couple of keepers and that’s good enough for me. I was nervous but the moment I met everyone and I picked up my camera all those nerves just melted away. I love photography and I’m doing exactly what I’ve always dreamed. I couldn’t be happier, and yes this will be a long assignment but I couldn’t be more ready for it. It’s a bonus they’re all nice as well, which makes working with them a lot easier, because believe me I’ve had some not so nice clients in the past. I think everyone will work out nicely.

_____________________________________________

Sav’s POV

I glance at Casey from the corner of my eye, she’s lazer forced on Phil taking photos of him. Who as per usual is working out, all shirtless and sweaty, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous he’s getting all her attention.

She’s striking, with copper hair and bright green eyes. She has delicate beautiful features, yet her colouring makes her stand out. Casey is gorgeous.

It was surprising to find Casey was a woman, I remember months back when we picked her, we assumed she was a man based on her name. So when a beautiful woman walked into the dressing room I was a bit shocked. If we were back in the 80s I might not have been, back then the dressing room was usually crawling with beautiful women.

It’s not the 80’s anymore and we aren’t young men, women aren’t exactly flocking to us. So now whenever I see a beautiful younger woman I assume she’s someone's guest.

In one way I’m lucky she’s not, I feel less guilty thinking of her the way I am, but in another I’m not. I could never act on those feelings because for one she’s working for me technically, and she’s got to be half my age, maybe even a quarter of it. There is no way she’d possibly want anything to do with an old man like me, especially not in the way I’m thinking of her. It would make it a lot easier to push those feelings aside if she was related to one of the blokes or something, but I’ll just have to fight it.

I quickly pretend to be flipping through my wardrobe as I notice her point the camera in my direction. I’d rather she had no idea I was just looking at her, I don’t want her to get creeped out by it or something. Though I’d love to pose for her, or maybe show off a bit, she instructed us to act like she’s not here. Which for me is clearly an impossible task, after all I’m standing metres away from the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Something tells me this tour will be a long one.

#the bitch writes #rick savage fanfiction #def leppard fanfiction #rick savage x oc #def leppard #rick savage

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neowinestainedress · 1 year

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lucky you i wish i had a kpop friend who is mature enough and lives in my city because for example i really really want to go to see the nct dream movie but i don’t have someone to go with + at least in my country everyone who likes kpop is so corny and cringey so idk where am i gonna find a normal kpop friend 😭😭

and yes, sadly i’m going alone because as i said no one knows my secret (call me hannah montana) beside like 5 friends? but they live in my old city. the worst part tho is that the concert is going to be on another city (that i used to live back in 2019 because i was studying there) so i will be leaving my house at 2am so i can arrive at 6/7 am… that will be interesting cause i will be SO tired

oh you’re EVIL that reaction pic left me more confused now like which theory was correct??? omg or don’t tell me mc will end up with jaemin plot twist

yes, gatekeep gaslight girlboss 💋💋

the enemies to lovers trope is one of my fav tropes ever i just love the fights, the tension, the need to catch the other’s person attention but not admitting even to themselves and everything about it and gladly haechan literally OWNS it and i just love his personality cause he’s so playful and funny and ugh not to be delusional but haechan is the definition of what i like in a man 😭😭

“but if i get sick of keeping it in the drafts it might come out around 6pm cest” OH YOU’RE EVIL CONFIRMED!!!

the fancalls today were a little too good i’ve been screaming all day watching them and i find so cute how jeno is all flirty but shy meanwhile haechan is a menace and is a confident flirt like I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE LEE DONGHYUCK WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME????

- 💌

i'll come with you wherever you are to watch the dream movie, they won't even air it where i live 😭😭😭 no but it's really hard to find normal kpop stans irl, i'm lucky i've known this friend bc we went to high school together and we have the same music taste basically and she was the one introducing me to kpop. i avoid irl kpop stans like the plague

2am??? o my, i hope you won't be too tired. anyway drink a lot, try to sleep when you can and have fun!!! i'll be with you mentally ♡

i told you i'm having the time of my life seeing you go insane eheh you'll find out soon (jaemin would be a good plot twist... or maybe renjun...yk...he's close to her...)

FELT THIS DEEP IN MY BONES!!! it's so good and yes, haechan fits it perfectly because he's not arrogant, he's playful and teasing so that doesn't make him a bad person, he's just funny and brings a lot of tension i gotta cry now

no cause they can't be left alone ajskdl also every time i forget how flirty they are, like i know it's fanservice but they are a lil too good at it. especially hyuck he KNOWS what he's doing. he wants to kill you, see, he's more evil than me

#anon answered #💌 anon

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theworld-accordingtocasey · 2 years

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Mannnn tell me how I woke up and I’m STILL mad at them. Then they posted that cornball ass annoying 💚D–6💚 shit and I wanted to comment “😒” on it SO bad but I decided I’m in a cold shoulder mood more than I’m in a snarky mood, so they got no engagement whatsoever. I ain’t even click on the tweet and open the app, I could see it from the notification tab so I slid left and finished my breakfast. How about I took a nap and when I woke up 4 hours later to get my bunny his morning salad, I was STILL mad. Stirring my coffee. Thinking of how audacious it is to be wealthy in NYC talm bout some damn “I’m bored” boy if you catch the ferry to the island and go see Lady Liberty or some shit!? All the places they see in movies & he ain’t wanna go look at the shit irl or something?? And then Mr. “I missed Korean food as soon as the plane took off” nigga if you don’t walk over to Woori Jib! I ate there during a few of my trips to NY. If MY Floridian ass knows it exists, your manager should have been able to stumble across that information without trying. Yes you’re allowed to miss home but you just got off the plane!! Not too mad at Jeff cus he hardly talks to anyone or posts anyway. He is a man who for the most part is an Equal Opportunity Non-communicator. I’m salty at mark cus of his “finally” shit but at least while they were here he put some enthusiasm in his tweets and did so IN ENGLISH *first*, since ya know, he was supposed to be talking to US anglophones (glares at Ty and Doyoung). I heard there’s a TikTok going around of him saying how he’s happy to see all the diversity in the crowds or something to that effect. I’ll probably be un-mad at him first, unless there is an apology (which we know won’t happen) from Ty or anyone in the group. SM apparently only responds to boycotts, so i feel like justified in more ways than one for thinking that the next album’s songs can stay in Korea and in Korean charts & shows too, since they wanna gatekeep new performances for only precious kfans 🤡 Saw a post last night that stan twt cooking up a plan to make sure next release, probably a repackage, doesn’t come anywhere near the Billboard charts and ykw? GOOD.

[[MORE]]

Your treat for us was to perform the 2 songs you literally have just finished promoting in SK within 3 days of arriving to LA & that’s…it? & music from 2 releases ago or more which means most of the setlist was more than 2 years old. Yeah everyone wanted Sticker and Favorite but that was over a year ago lol. Collabs have happened since then & recent NEW solos. Not even a mini or EP but a whole ass album that we helped shoot sales through the roof, came out, like!!?

We let a wholeeeee lotta shit slide over the years but I’m seriously over it dude. SM half-assed this “tour” with poorly planned show appearances, badly organized fan event, sketchy staff…Wtf is this “new music only for Korea concert” shit?! SM fr needs to work on their marketing tactics cus this “Kfans first, kfans only” style plan, this “do whatever it takes to stay in not only the good graces of, but rather, the best graces of Korean fans (when ifans have carried them since mf 00:01 of Firetruck and we all know it. Also, we have long confirmed music sales aren’t the bulk of musicians income, it’s TOURING) who absolutely are gonna drop like a bug near a can of Raid when someone goes public with a relationship, is NOT the move.

It’s like they got too comfortable just like a guy does in a relationship. If we wanted to be ignored we can go stan a kpop group with NO foreigners & a company who can’t afford staff to ensure immediate subtitles and regular comebacks, etc. Or even someone from a midsize company who aspires to have a global audience whether they have foreigners in the group or not & is willing to put in more than the bare minimum. Like wtf is SM doing, why are they self-sabotaging when *globalalization* is supposed to be the point of 127 to begin with??

Idc what any group says, BTS’ fame is what they want. Why the hell wouldn’t it be? There’s no shame in admitting, there’s no shame in wanting to be a household name around the world lol. if you want to be at the top fr then you need to stay humble & respect all your fans, cus as someone who helped make it happen, I most certainly did not bust my ass and go that hard for them while feeling disrespected, like??Bighit (it’s past tense so I’m calling them BH) could’ve done better because there were times when they just let us do all the work without promoting the boys well but the boys themselves made it feel worth it because they were happy and thankful to be surpassing levels, that when they became trainees didn’t even register as doable. BH could’ve done better on merch for us too instead of only giving the good shit to JPN army, but that’s a separate issue & again, wasn’t BTS’ choice. Even with Namjoon’s minor goof (I think ppl who aren’t Black &/or debut stans know about it. & I sincerely think at the time that when it came out of his mouth he didn’t understand why it’s problematic…and also I mean. He wasn’t wrong…) and major goof (you know the one) and the WOH incident, he earned forgiveness because he seemed to work with sincerity. AHL definitely helped and to this day no one has done that extent of hiphop boot camp (yes, I am saying that Svt’s lil trip doesn’t compare, you interpreted that correctly).

Do I think there’s a magic formula to get a “““next BTS”””? Hell nah lol That there was a perfect storm (Bigbang had laid the framework, BAP fell off (a big fuck u to their record label btw. We don’t speak the name of that dirtbag but they were doing REALLY good intl especially over here), BlockB messing up w/ the SE fans + Zico fucking up (over… & over… again) + not playing their cards right at ALL, the consistency of their sound rather than it being a 1 era dress-up party, sns (on a shared account mind you! They didn’t have personals!) & talking to all of us not just kfans, AHL, making connections w/ Black artists & maintaining them, having a solid anglophone, helping make their own music frequently, doing their endorsements all or nothing without having 1 known member– I could go on. Point is, the exact formula isn’t possible but it’s not completely unobtainable to be in the ballpark. Neos could be in the ballpark even w/o compromising their 127-ess & sound if they worked at balancing their fandom ((+ not acting like Europe (and Africa, but idt kpop will hit that for a min)) doesn’t exist). The pandemic didn’t help them but they didn’t try to make up for not being able to travel to non-Korean fans.

Ffs kpop is becoming almost trendy instead of just a niche! And the top group is on an official hiatus! & no one has enlisted yet! There’s a void- STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT YOU FOOLS!! It’s not even just SM to blame, they have their own personal accts in various sites, they let the staff have the power by not pushing harder for using the English speakers they have more & obeying when they get told to only speak in Korean. What’s SM gonna do, yank them from the lineup?? If you have fans either as a group or akgaes & they are so flaky that you communicating in multiple languages makes them angry enough to not buy albums like I Superhuman era & leave, let them go!! You’ll get more fans just out of appreciation for the fact that you did the right thing instead of caving in to spoiled nonsensical brattiness. I am so incredibly annoyed by them having no backbones bro. Get a spine or always stay at the mercy of unreasonable ppl willing to drop you for being a fair person and a good idol.

#/end rant #nct 127 #aka my favs on thin ice #a.k.a “my favs are on thin ice” 🤡#bts antis I sincerely do not care so keep your “don’t compare them” whining to yourself #actually scratch that (bring it back) ANYone who disagrees: I sincerely don’t care #do not @ me #I’d rather no sc too since I’m just venting on a blog site #it is a microblog and look at the title. that means debate is nonexistent and criticism is not accepted #“the world according to Casey” means it’s the Casey Show I am the host， star， main character! So if u agree & wanna chat ur welcome here!#if you disagree #you are not welcome here #lol #discourse is only allowed if a non-rhetorical question is asked #I’m so annoyed that I don’t even wanna read FICS about 127 members!#do u know how annoyed I have to be for me to not even want IMAGINARY interaction with you?! not even an idealized ‘you’??#that’s a lot #only Yuta is safe at the moment #in Yuta we trust #he’s the only exception #cus he wasn’t on that “kOReA😍” nonsense acting like he was deployed for a year when they were here for two (2) concerts over 15 days #like I said when I messaged Luna yesterday:#I ain’t change the locks. Taeyong can still come over if he decides to. But his ass is most certainly sleepin in the guest room TFN #if/whenever he/they get(s) tired of the one flavor menu of their main squeeze & want intl engagement(re: $) & decide to seek the side chick #obviously a metaphor #angry Tyongf is angry #hmph #<(｀^´)>#I am mad at Taeyong for making me be mad at him to begin with tbh #Alexa play Taeil & Raider’s Love Right Back

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hollyhomburg · 2 years

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 19)

(Sneak Peak) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: discussions about your past with the pack cause some troubling conversations, but amidst the sadness- there is also love.

Tags: grooming, age gaps, discussion of unhealthy and abusive relationships, first kisses, discussion of dominant tendencies, implied voyeurism, Omegaspace, fluff, kisses, limited sexual content, Posessive behavior,

W/c: 12.0k

A/n: This chapter is full of things that i wasn’t originally planning on putting in until later, however, i think it’s important that i adress some of these themes now. for those of you who have paid attention to the asks i’ve answered, none of the information in this will seem out of the ordinary! im posting this after the day two concert because i didn’t want it hanging over my head while i was there! enjoy this sneak peak!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

Chapter 19: Honey Bunny

The youngest pup in particular has been trailing after you and Yoongi alot recently. Jin came home on Friday and found you three cuddling close on the couch, trading your phones back and forth with funny videos. Each of you pressed into Yoongi’s side though the beta hadn’t seemed bothered, just unbearably fond. Grumbling with false displeasure when you’d showed him a video of a tiny black kitten and said, “look it’s you!”

He even saw a sweatshirt of yours in their nest that jin himself hadn’t incorporated a few days ago. Jungkook is usually the one who does the laundry for the pack after-all- and it would be easy for him to sneak something of yours, and it was a little hidden under one of the blankets, shyly- like Jungkook was almost embarrassed about it.

More than once over the last few weeks, Seokjin has also woken to find Tae missing from the nest. A short trip to the kitchen confirms his suspicions; especially when he finds a light lit behind the door to Tae's library and your voice echoing from within. A laugh maybe here and there, your voices just quiet enough that Jin can't hear just exactly what you two are talking about.

But Jin knows better than to interrupt, the closed door sends a very clear message, and Jin respects it even if he wishes he knew what you two were doing. how and if exactly, you are falling in love. jin sees everything, even tae’s eyes hovering a second more then they should on you two kissing.

Jin can feel that something's building, a certain fervor to their scents, echoing sweeter and sweeter the more that they linger over looks and kisses. It's a rarity if Jin doesn't see someone staring hungrily at the two of you when he presses small kisses to your mouth- still chaste and innocent- though he has a feeling that soon- they won't be.

Maybe he should savor this innocence and simplicity for as long as he can. Soon- it could be over.

Something is going to give with one sweet touch, one new kiss, or another small act of love that kindles these ashes into flame. There have been no new kisses, much to Jin’s disgruntlement and continued angst. Maybe the truth is he’s just not used to being in love with someone who hasn’t been directly and explicitly been incorporated into the pack.

But they wouldn’t have just let you stick around during Tae’s rut- and Tae wouldn’t have asked for you if his inner instincts hadn’t already agreed to it. Even Hobi hadn’t said anything at all negative about you in weeks. Greeting Namjoon and Jin’s careful prodding with nothing more than a shrug and a quiet “we’re friends now, i swear if it wasn’t okay i’d say something” But it never hurts to check in, just to make sure.

Regardless of Jin’s impatience to just get all this tip toeing around each other over with, he’s been forcing himself to be patient with little secures. it feels like the tension just might kill him.

But he’s in luck, because there's going to be a new first kiss today; four down, three left to go.

To Be Posted Monday November 29th @ 5PM EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

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agustdakasuga · 3 years

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Reflection Of You | Chapter 1

Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU / Different Dimension, Romance

Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung

Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, going back to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover.

The nightmare the both of you feared had finally come true.

“Thank you, ARMY!”

“We’ll see you soon!”

“We love you forever! Goodnight!” You watched the monitor with proud eyes, your hands clasped together. After a long world tour, the boys had their final concert in Korea, their home country. You, along with the other staff, clapped as the 7 boys stepped off the stage.

“Good job!” There were exchanges of hugs and pats on the backs. Technically, you weren’t a member of staff, so you respected the distance, standing at the back of the crowd.

“There you are.” Someone said, almost like a sigh of relief.

“Great job, as always.” A smile slowly widened on your face as you opened your arms to hug him, resting your cheek against his peck.

“I’m sweaty.” Was all he said.

“Like I ever minded.” You chuckled, pulling away to look up at him. He gave a soft smile, leaning down to peck your lips. It was quick but endearing. You knew for him, doing that in public was already a large feat.

“Noona! You’re here!” You were yanked out of your beloved’s arms.

“Of course, Kookie. It’s the last show of the tour, I wouldn’t miss it.” You patted his head as he lifted you off the ground.

“Yah, look at the scowl on hyung’s face after you stole his girl.” Taehyung appeared, slinging his arm around your maknae’s neck. You giggled, shaking your head. Someone stood beside you, holding your hand. Speak of the devil. You turned your head to see him looking at his phone in his other hand, totally nonchalant about holding your phone.

“Great show today, guys. You were amazing.” You told all 7 of them as they packed up, ready to head home.

“Thank you, (y/n).” Jin pinched your cheek lovingly.

“As much as I love spending time with ARMY, I’m excited to have some time off, as well.” Jimin yawned, adjusting his hat in the mirror. You nodded in agreement. The boys deserved a nice break.

“The vans are here.” The managers informed.

“Let’s go, aegi.” He called. You walked hand in hand with him. Before you stepped out, he stopped you.

“You forgot again?” He chuckled, taking a mask out of his pocket. He gently hooked the elastics over your ears, adjusting the fabric on your face to make sure that it was comfortable.

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly.

“Hurry, love birds!” Hoseok called out, being the one to share the van with the two of you. Even if you were all boarding the van privately, you were still cautious, wearing a mask when you went out in case any fan manages to slip past security and saw you.

“We’ll sit at the back.” You were yanked into the seat, making you blink in shock. You felt your lover’s headrest against your shoulder.

“Any plans for the break, Hobi?” You asked.

“Hmm, besides going home? I would like to travel but I don’t really have a destination in mind. What about you? Are you and hyung going to do something?” He asked back.

“He’s visiting his family. Unfortunately, I have work but I’ll try to join him for a few days. After that, we might take a few days off to travel too.” You smiled.

“Must be nice to travel with a companion.” Hoseok teased.

“Not when your companion just wants to sleep and eat all day.” You giggled. There was a grunt of annoyance from beside you.

“Hey, you sleep just as much as me. We hardly stepped out of our hotel room the last vacation because all we did was sleep then nap all day. Besides, I deserve to sleep and eat all day for how hard I’ve worked.” He scoffed. You nodded your head, you couldn’t argue with that after all the hard work the boys have put into the tour.

“Touché.” You booped his nose.

“Still hard to believe hyung is the first one to get a girl. We all thought he was too much a gramps to get one.” Hoseok laughed.

“That’s part of his charm, I guess.” You smiled. Looking down, you saw that said male had fallen asleep against your shoulder. A slight frown was on his face as he crossed his arms.

When the car stopped in the gated apartment complex, the 3 of you were dropped off at the front of the dorm building.

“Hobi-”

“I know, I know. You won’t be spending the night in the dorm. Goodnight, you two.” Hoseok waved you two off. You giggled and gave him a hug before parting ways from him.

“I can’t wait to just spend the next few days in bed.”

“When are you going back to Daegu?”

“Next week. What, can’t wait to get rid of me already?” He teased. You scoffed, entering the lift together and tapping the resident card, pressing the lift button.

“If I wanted to get rid of you, I could just return to my place.” You shook your head.

“As if I’d let you.” He said from behind you. Pressing the code into the keypad on the door, you pressed your finger print and the door unlocked. The two of you shuffled into the big apartment. You turned the lights on and placed your bag on the couch. The first thing you did was put away the washed dishes from your breakfast this morning.

“You can do that tomorrow.” His voice groaned.

“It’ll take less than a minute. Go ahead and shower.” You chuckled. Once again, you were yanked away from the cupboard. He rested his chin on your shoulder, arms loosely looped around your waist.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered, stroking the back of his head.

“Is it too early for post concert blues?”

“You are such a workaholic. You’ll be on stage again soon. Besides, ARMY wouldn’t want to see all of you so tired out. They would want you to rest well and have a break too.” You comforted.

“When I’m with them, I just feel like I have the whole world.”

“ARMY is lucky to have all of you. You’re their world just as much as they are yours.” You smiled.

“You’re forgetting something. ARMY gives me the whole world. But right now, I know I am holding my whole world.” He placed a gentle kiss against your temple.

“Cheeseball.” You shook your head with a laugh. You shooed him away to shower while you finished the chores for the night like folding the washed clothes, filling the coffee machine for tomorrow and arranging the few fan gifts from ARMY around the house.

“I’m done.” He called from the bedroom. You entered, seeing him pull a plain white shirt over his head. He rubbed his wet hair with a towel.

“I’ll go shower.” You said, picking some fresh clothes and bringing it to the bathroom. You were quick with your shower, blowing drying your hair afterwards so you wouldn’t have to wait for it to dry.

“Hurry, I want to sleep.”

“You don’t have to wait for me!” You replied.

“No.”

“Alright, alright.” You shook your head, hanging your towel back on the rack to dry. You closed the bathroom door, slipping under the covers. Immediately, you were drawn into a warm embrace.

“Don’t wake me up tomorrow.” He mumbled, eyes closing.

“Wouldn’t dare to.” You joked. He opened one eye to glare at you while you smiled innocently at him. He yawned, tucking his head into the crook of your neck comfortably.

“Goodnight, aegi.” He placed a kiss against your skin.

“Goodnight, Yoon.” You replied.

You’ve known Yoongi for years now. When you worked at a music store near BTS’ old dorm when they had just debuted. He would come at night, just before closing to browse the shelves. Even if you came to know the whole group through Yoongi, you and Yoongi connected on a whole new level, you understood each other through music.

It was about 2 years ago that he had asked you out on a date. Of course, you were unsure, considering how popular he was and you didn’t want to burden him by keeping your relationship a secret.

But you trusted Yoongi. When he told you he would protect you, you gave him a chance. And you’ve been happily together ever since.

It scared you when Yoongi threatened to leave BigHit when the management found out about you. You told Yoongi that you wanted him to prioritise BTS and ARMY before your relationship together. That was your only condition.

“Why?”

“Because ARMY and BTS were there for you before I was. You need to be there for them just like how they are there for you.” You told him.

With that, the management and Mr Bang approved of your relationship. They also appreciated how you made Yoongi happier and were a positive influence when he had his low times.

It was around 4 am. You woke up, feeling the space beside you still empty. The sheets felt cold, meaning that Yoongi hadn’t returned. You sent a message to Jungkook, who you knew would still be awake since he was working on releasing a surprise song cover for ARMY.

“Yoongi hyung? He hasn’t returned.” The youngest informed.

“Thanks, Kookie.” You hung up. You respected Yoongi and his work, never wanting to interrupt him or stop him but you knew you had to step in at certain times.

‘The number you have dialled is currently unavailable-’

You sighed as you were directed to voicemail again. Putting your shoes on, you left home to visit his studio.

DING DONG

You pressed the doorbell, waiting for an answer but to no avail. Even if you knew the code, you wouldn’t just enter. Just like everyone else, you would always ring the doorbell first and wait for a reply. You pressed it again.

“Who is- Oh, it’s you.” Yoongi poked his head out.

“Hey.” You greeted.

“What are you doing here? I’m busy.” Yoongi said. It came out colder than he would have liked but after working for hours and not getting the results he wanted, he was getting frustrated.

“I know. Just wanted to see how you were doing. Can I come in?” You asked. Yoongi looked back into his studio.

“I’d rather you not. Like I said, I’m busy. I can’t have another person here, it’ll only distract me more.” He said. Yoongi wasn’t someone that dealt with emotions well, you knew that. When things weren’t working out, his defence mode was to just push everyone away and hide alone. That’s just his way of dealing with emotions.

“I understand.” You nodded, not wanting to push him any further. Without another word, Yoongi just closed the door, retreating back into his studio.

“Hmm...” You roamed around the lounge area. You smiled as you came across the famous picture of Jimin that Yoongi got as a prize during the photography episode of Run!BTS.

“Time to go home.” You went back home. Even waiting for Yoongi outside his studio, you knew he would feel guilty later on and you didn’t want that. You laid in bed but was woken up by Yoongi pressing his face into your back.

“Yoon...?” You tried to turn around to face him but his arms held you in place.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, burying his face into your back. You reached over to put your hand over his.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” You said, sleep laced in your voice. You yawned, finally turning around to face him. You cupped his cheek with your free hand.

“The songs weren’t working out, the lyrics were trash, I just... I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. After you left, I just-”

“Shh, you don’t have to explain. I understand how frustrating it must have been. Everyone has their own down times. Don’t worry, I’m just glad you’re back to rest. Maybe after a nice sleep, you’ll have a clearer mind to write better, hmm?” You smiled softly.

“Next time, be angry with me.”

“Why do you want me to be angry with you? I mean, I have times when work frustrates me too. We aren’t perfect.” You laughed.

“You’re too nice to me.” He pressed you against his body, inhaling your comforting scent. You loosely wrapped your own arm around his middle, letting out a yawn.

“Go wash up. I’ll wait for you.” You promised.

Yoongi was usually an early riser but after the concert last night, he had slept in until the afternoon. When he woke up, he realised that you weren’t beside him. He sat up, running his fingers through his hair as he looked for you.

‘Fridge empty. Went out to get groceries. Iced Americano is in the fridge. - (y/n)’

Yoongi smiled at your note, folding it and tucking it into his pocket. He never told you but he keeps all the notes you leave him, even for ones that just say, ‘gone to work’. He shuffled to the fridge, taking the glass of cold coffee out, adding ice before sticking a straw in. He sat down by the kitchen island, scrolling on his phone.

‘BTS’ Suga seen holding hands with mysterious female after concert.’

‘Insider releases photos of BTS’ rapper and a female embracing each other, said to be his girlfriend.’

‘Has the cold, savage rapper finally met his match?’

Yoongi’s eyes widened as he saw the alert news. He felt his heart stop when he clicked on one of the articles. There were blurry photos of you holding hands with him, leaving the venue last night.

“PD nim.” Yoongi called his boss.

“It seems a fan had snuck in under the guise of a staff member. We’ll handle the press for now and tell you what to do next.”

“How can this happen?!”

“Calm down, Yoongi. We have apprehended the culprit and will be turning her over to the authorities. Just make sure (y/n) is safe. The two of you should stay indoors for now.”

When he hung up, his phone rang again, it was the members. But right now, he couldn’t answer them. He was too worried about where you were and whether you were safe. Quickly, Yoongi dialled your number. Fortunately, you picked up, totally ignorant that your relationship was now public.

“Good morning, or should I say, good afternoon?”

“Aegi, are you okay?” He panicked.

“Okay? Of course, I am. Didn’t you see my note? I just finished paying for groceries, about to leave the mart.”

“Stay right there, aegi. I’m coming to get you. Don’t talk to anyone, alright? I’m coming.” He said as he grabbed his car keys, putting on a mask and a cap.

“Okay, now you’re scaring me. What’s wrong, Yoon?”

“They found out. I’m so sorry I let this happen. I’ll explain more when I come get you, alright?” He said and hung up. He got into his car, speeding to where you were. You were standing by the mart entrance.

“Yoon.” You sighed in relief, entering the car with all the groceries in your lap. Yoongi sped away, back to the gated community. True to that, as he passed the security, he saw some fans standing at the post, trying to enter. Luckily, fans didn’t know he owned this car and the windows were tinted so he could drive past without anyone suspecting.

“Let’s go. Hurry.” He grabbed the bags, pulling you with him to the apartment. Only when you reached, you finally stopped him.

“Yoon, calm down. It’s okay, I’m okay. Now tell me, slowly, what happened?” You led him to the couch to sit down. He buried his hands into his palms while you rubbed his back.

“Someone snuck in as a staff member last night and took pictures of us. It was in the press this morning.” He explained.

“Does PD nim know about this?”

“He said he will handle the press and tell us what we have to do next.” He shivered, his breathing quickening. You knew that was a sign of Yoongi’s anxiety so you pulled him into your embrace immediately.

“It’ll be okay, Yoongi.” You comforted.

“Have you spoken to the boys?” You asked softly. He shook his head. As he said that, your phone rang. It was Namjoon.

“They’re just worried and want to know if you’re okay. Let me tell them that we’re okay.” You told him, answering Namjoon’s call and putting him on speaker. As you predicted, the other boys were on the other line, bombarding the both of you with questions.

“We’re okay, just a little overwhelmed. Thank you for your concern. We’ll just wait for PD nim’s instructions.” You told them.

“Do you want us to come over?”

“Maybe later on but not right now? Just let Yoongi and I grasp the situation and calm down first. If there’s anything, we’ll be sure to keep you all updated.” You promised.

“We’ll see you later then.”

“I’m so sorry I let this happen, aegi.” Yoongi cried, cupping your cheek and rubbing it with his thumb.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. We will get through this. I know it’s a little earlier than we would have liked but we knew the risks we were taking by having this relationship, Yoon.” You wiped his tears.

“You don’t understand, aegi. Those people that could hurt you, they aren’t really ARMY. They’re crazy and obsessed. I’ve seen what they have done to others before. I will never be able to live with myself if I let the same thing happen to you.” He shook his head. You knew what Yoongi was referring to, the ‘sasaeng fans’ that the media always talked about.

“Let’s not think of the worst.” You hummed. Yoongi’s phone ringing broke your embrace. It was PD nim, along with the PR team.

“Yes. I understand… I’ll speak to her and let you know. Thank you.” Yoongi said and hung up with a sigh. You tilted your head, hoping they didn’t give Yoongi the ultimatum.

“They said I either publish a note to the fans, explaining everything. Or let them deny the photos, say that you are just a family member.” He explained.

“I see...” Those were reasonable options.

“What do you think is the right thing to do?” You asked Yoongi.

Series Masterlist

Tag list

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Stranger In The Crowd

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having recently ended the process of moving, Y/N is rightfully very tired but also very excited for the new chapter of her life. Funnily enough, this new chapter includes a newly formed long distance friendship/crush with a very special person from San Diego.

Requested by @boiled-onionrings Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request and I’m really sorry you’ve had to wait so long for it to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I let out a heavy sigh, relieved to finally be at home after such a long day of standing around in the Georgia heat with only a thin layer of fabric to protect my eyes and head from the scorching sun. Yeah, anyone who says that tent did well at protecting everyone under it today is nothing but a liar. I was in a short, strapless white summer dress, the fabric of which barely had any weight and consistency to provide heat of its own yet I still damn near melted. Ok, I’ll admit, some of the roasting heat probably came from the energy and force I put into singing the songs of my band’s new album ‘Starting At The End’.

The mini concert we held in this large open field was meant as an introduction to the city of Savannah where all the band members - myself included - are actually from but we all moved to the West Coast to pursue our music career. And now that we’ve grown, and the majority of us are married, one of us is a father now as well, we’ve decided to return to our hometown. The decision was so spontaneous and was executed so quickly due to no one objecting to it that it still hasn’t me that I’m no longer in LA. The heat isn’t helping my ‘processing’ process but I’ll get to it eventually. Do I miss LA though? Not sure I do - I think I more miss the people I was closer to while I was there.

Suddenly, as if perfectly timed, my phone dings, notifying me that I’ve received a message. I don’t have to look to know it’s from - there’s only one person I actively text and his name is....

C ~ Your virtual buddy Corpse here, making sure you didn’t die of a heatstroke today. If you did indeed survive, just reply to this message, if not....don’t do anything, I guess.

I can’t help but giggle at the sight of the message. I promised Corpse I’d text him after the concert to let him know I was ok, but the even dragged out for longer than anticipated so I’m guessing he got worried.

How cute.

Me ~ Alive and well, but I do feel like a popped tire of an overloaded truck. Hope that’s a visually appealing description

Corpse and I met on the charity livestream Jacksepticeye organized and invited our band to so we could play Among Us with some of the best gamers and streamers on the internet. It was a huge honor and a ton of fun, definitely an event I’d like to repeat in the near future because I had such a good time and I know all my bandmates did too. We all got acquainted and even became official friends with the gamers that were practically our hosts, Corpse becoming the closest friends I’d earn. That livestream happened months ago and we still text just as consistently.

C ~ Oh I know EXACTLY what you mean. Anyway, as to not exhaust you further to force you into typing, how about you send me pictures to sum up your thoughts and emotions and plans for the evening

This is OUR THING trademark, mine and Corpse’s and no one can take it away from us. It’s a significant element of our friendship that enables us both to understand one another when one of us feels the way I described in my message - a popped tire or a deflated balloon. I’m usually the exhausted one - blame the many shows we do and the many meet-and-greets we organize for our lovely fans. It’s the type of exhaustion none of the band members mind at all, but we definitely need some time to recover from it.

As I go to sit down on my couch, the flower crown I’ve been wearing slips off the top of my head, falling on the floor, creating a soft noise that attracts the attention of one of my many cats - Sasha. She’s the youngest and most curious kitty in the family, always protected by the other four - Luna, Cassie, Silver and Lynn. Those four are far lazier and a lot more disinterested in comparison to Sasha who immediately runs over to see what’s fallen.

I smile to myself, taking the flower crown and undoing it to lessen it by a few stems to make it smaller, all the while being watched by the curious Sasha whose interest is rewarded in the end when I put the now adorably tiny flower crown on her head.

While she still hasn’t shaken the thing off I manage to snap a pic which I send to Corpse who opens it mere seconds after it was delivered.

C ~ Sasha’s pulling off your aesthetic better than you. Sorry, someone had to let you know

I burst out laughing for two reasons - 1.The message itself, damn it! It’s hilarious; 2. Corpse has learnt the name of each one of my cats and never mixes them up - not even Luna and Lynn who look almost identical. That amount of attention to detail is astonishing and very meaningful to me, it genuinely warms my heart and that may or may not be dramatic but it’s definitely not exaggerated.

Me ~ You think I haven’t caught on yet?

C ~ Well, if it makes you feel any better you pull off my aesthetic better than I do

He’s referring to the e-girl look I did for one show the band had in downtown LA one night. I was drunk and looking forward to trying new things so I improvised the hell out of my outfit but I apparently looked presentable enough to leave a good impression on Corpse despite the pic I sent him being a bit blurry and being a mirror selfie in the bathroom of the very bar we were performing in. It goes without saying that the mirror was dirty too - had a bunch of writing on it which Corpse said only added to the aesthetic. Looking back on it now I kinda agree, and luckily so did the fans in the comments of that same photo when I posted it on Instagram.

Me ~ Means a lot actually. Nowhere near enough to aid the burn of having a cat pull off cottagecore better than I do, but still helps XD

As if sensing that we’re talking about her, Sasha hops on the couch, poking her head over my phone to look down at the screen.

Now this is gonna be golden.

I take a selfie with my phone in my lap, the camera capturing both me and Sasha at a rather unflattering angle which has me losing my mind laughing when I send the picture to Corpse who immediately sends back a string of cry-laughing emojis.

C ~ I can’t tell which one of you is cuter

Me ~ If that was a compliment, I gotta say I appreciate it greatly

C ~ Just telling the truth ;)

It’s times like these that the butterflies in my stomach remind me just why I’ve started catching feelings for this man despite all the distance between us and despite barely knowing him - he knows me more than I know him but I don’t mind it, oddly enough.

I’m fond of our connection and though I sometimes dream of something more, I’m also content with what we already have considering that ‘something more’ seems rather unattainable as of now.

My phone dings again, clearing the fog of thoughts and presenting me with a new message from Corpse.

C ~ Oh, by the way, look what I got....

That message is followed up by a picture of a ticket. A plane ticket to Georgia!

While I’m still busy stomaching this and dealing with my quickly rising excitement, he sends another message.

C ~ I hope to catch a The Silver Rays concert while I’m there. Heard they had an adorable frontwoman ;)

My breath catches in my throat as a wide grin spreads across my face. The thought of having Corpse so close to me sends those aforementioned butterflies in my stomach into a raving mood and they practically explode my insides with excitement and joy like I’ve never felt it before. I can’t wrap my brain around the fact that we’re about to go from having an entire country between us, to being just some ways away - him in the audience and me on stage without a single clue of who to look for. That’s part of the excitement though, I guess, part of the guessing game that’s gonna make our meeting all the more interesting.

He’ll be a stranger in the crowd and I’ll be a performer on a stage - seemingly two people who have no relation whatsoever. But damn does it go beyond that: No one has to know how hard I’m falling for that stranger in the crowd.

Me ~ I’ve heard so too, can’t confirm it though

If this is gonna be a guessing game, I’ll flip the tables a bit - I won’t take any guesses. I’ll let the answer come to me. I’ll give the first move over to the stranger in the crowd, let’s see what he does.

C ~ I’ll check and let you know, don’t worry

Not worried whatsoever, Corpsie. I’m not worried at all.

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reidandweep · 4 years

Text

Stitching

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Much like Adam Driver, I have been a huge fan of Matthew Gray Gubler and criminal minds for years. With quarantine, I decided to re-watch the show from the beginning and I had some inspiration. My writing tends to take a while but if you have any requests or idea for Spencer Reid, please send them my way.

Word Count- 6286 words

Warning- Angst, mentions of violence and torture, fluff, tears, and the usual criminal minds details.

If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge? -William Shakespeare.

QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

“Good morning my lover and friends. As of 8:45 am, yesterday morning, four bodies have been found across the Washington State area. Locations confirmed to be Pomeroy, Baker City, Salem, and Mill Creek. All victims were very similar in physical appearance; Caucasian, red hair, brown eyes, approximately 5ft 4’.”

Garcia swiped her tablet to display family photographs of the victims on the screen. The team watched, in the debriefing room, as they scanned through their own tablets; reading through the details. Spencer’s eyes flittered over the images as his fingers scanned across the words in his paper file; still adamant on not working with technology like the rest of his team.

“What about the cause of death? How were they found?”

Garcia shivered at Rossi’s question.

“It’s not a pretty image. Each victim was dismembered at the elbows, knees, neck, and stomach. Further cuts were made vertically down the stomach and across the face, arms, and legs. Not deep enough to cut through bone, but deep enough to bleed out. Where the unsub cut our victims, he then sewed them back together.”

Emily looked up at Garcia.

“Are you saying the lacerations were made before the victim’s died?”

“Precisely. Each autopsy report came back the same with the cause of death pointing to the direction of blood loss; specifically, from the throat.”

The team looked at the new images before them. Multiple pictures appeared on the screen, showing the bodies of the victims. The pictures showing the women laid out in the same pose, thick thread holding together the pieces of their corpses. All had their eyes closed, except one.

“Garcia, the last victim, zoom into her face.”

Garcia did as Spencer asked.

“Her eyes are closed.”

Spencer nodded, glancing towards JJ as she spoke.

“Meaning that he felt remorse for this murder.”

Derek scrolled through the pictures on his tablet.

“The other three victim’s eyes are open, indicating that he wanted them to look. To watch what he was doing, whatever it may have been.”

Spencer looked across the table at the questioning faces.

“So, what changed between the third and the fourth victim?”

Hotch stood from his seat, indicating the others to grab their belonging.

“We can discuss further on jet. Wheels up in thirty.”

WASHINGTON STATE

Being greeted by the local police department in Clagstone, Spencer and the team began their investigation into the murders. Spencer did not know what it was, but the stitching on the bodies felt familiar. Like he had seen them before.

Looking up from his files, Spencer watched as Derek walked into the room, ending a call with who he could only presume to be Garcia.

“Garcia has just completed background checks on our latest victim. Lily Trent visited local film screenings at the Southview Centre religiously, to watch horror movies in particular. Seems like the girl loved anything horror and Halloween; according to her roommate and her computer history. It seems that are other victims did also.”

Spencer stood from his seat and walked towards the whiteboard at the back of the room. Writing down the details Derek stated, his brain began to filter through the relevant information needed.

“Halloween is ranked the ninth most celebrated holiday in the world. With different interpretations of the holiday occurring according to country and culture. Wearing costumes at Halloween did not even become an occurrence until 1585, with the first instance recorded in Scotland.”

Derek chuckled at Reid’s excitement. He knew the boy loved Halloween.

“Well it all looks like they were pretty huge fans of the holiday and horror films. Maybe our unsub was too.”

Spencer looked down at the photos in his hand, scanning his memory for any correlation.

“Maybe, it’s not just horror, but a particular film. If all the victims were presented in a certain way, maybe the unsub is trying to replicate what happened to a character in a particular film.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll call Garcia to search through all the victims search history to see if any particular horror films come up in each one. Do you know of any films that the unsub could have replicated?”

Spencer shook his head.

“I can collate his actions to hundreds of films but, the method of torture and look of the victims, I can’t think of one horror feature that pinpoints all that the unsub has done.”

A thought unexpectedly popped into Spencer’s mind. Derek cocked his head at the sudden halt from the resident genius.

“But I know someone who might.”

UNIVERSITY OF WASHINGTON

“The importance of genre in film alters many of the other aspects. The characters and their narrative arcs, the music score, cinematography, the edit, and so much more. Sometimes genre even dictates the director who signs onto the project. Dennis Dugan would not have a directing career if Adam Sandler stopped making comedy movies. Because that is what he directs. He doesn’t direct comedies; he directs Adam Sandler comedies. Which, in my opinion, are a whole genre on their own.”

The class chuckled.

“Genre plays a part in everyday life. Sometimes, your day will be led by romance, or grief, or action. There may be drama, or comedy, or even silence.”

The class looked on in concentration as Y/N walked across the floor. If someone who did not attend the college walked past the classroom, they could’ve presumed that she was a student. She looked young enough.

“It controls the way the characters talk, act, and move. How the plot thickens and pushes forward and…”

The doors at the back of the auditorium opened. Y/N looked up at the sound of the intrusion to see figures that she could not recognise, and one that she did.

Clearing her throat, she continued.

“And how it even ends. We shall leave it at that today. What I want you to do in the meantime is research a genre in particular and come up with examples that counteract the stereotypes that have been enforced upon the genre itself. Hand it in to your professor first thing Monday morning. Thank you.”

Y/N watched as the students collected their things and filtered out of the room. The figures waiting till she was only left before they walked down the steps.

Coming to a stop in front of her desk, Y/N crossed her arms and waited. Spencer stepped forward with a crooked smile on his face.

“Hi Y/N.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“Long time no see stranger.”

Spencer’s cheeks burned at Y/N’s words. The team shared looks between them at the unfamiliar display. They had seen Spencer blush at people before, but not for a long time.

Spencer cleared his throat, preparing himself to act professional.

“This is Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N. Y/N travels across the country to guest speak at different universities on her topic at hand. She specialises in film studies, more importantly the focus of characters and genres. If I can’t connect the unsub’s actions to a film, Y/N most definitely can.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s praise.

“Nice to meet you all. So, what are you here to talk to me about Doc? Obviously, you’re here on a case and if you are asking for my help, I’m guessing it’s going to be pretty gruesome.”

Spencer blushed at the nickname; caught off guard by the word slipping of her tongue.

Sending a raised look towards Reid, Hotch began to explain why they were there.

“Were looking into a case of connected murders. All victims were found to have been mutilated and tortured in the same way. As well as showing resemblances in their physical appearances. With research, we’ve found that each victim was particularly fond of horror films and Halloween. We would just like for you to take a look and see if you could recognise if the ways in which they were harmed stemmed from a film in particular.”

Y/N nodded her head.

“Of course, anything to help.”

She reached for the files from Spencer’s hands, ignoring the tablet pushed in her direction by JJ.

“Sorry, I prefer to use paper. I only really use technology for my lectures or to watch films if they cannot be purchased in physical form.”

Derek smirked, shooting looks to his team, as his eyes landed on Spencer. He never thought he would meet a technophobe like Reid.

Y/N scanned through the pictures and documents, looking in detail at the lacerations at hand. She identified the similarities between the victims, as her mind swirled through the images and characters from the films, she knew held similarities.

“What were the names of all the victims?”

Emily looked towards the woman.

“That information is classified.”

Y/N did not blink at her abrasiveness.

“Were any of them called Sally?”

The team looked perplexed at her question.

“No. Why that name in particular?”

Y/N continued to scan the pages as Rossi questioned her.

“Because the unsub isn’t replicating anything from a horror movie. The unsub is replicating the physical appearance and staging of a character from an animated movie. A Disney one to be more specific.”

A light bulb flickered in Spencer’s mind as he stared at Y/N in realisation. The hair colours. The stitches. It made sense now.

“The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

LOCAL POLICE DEPARTMENT

“The Nightmare Before Christmas is a 1993 American stop-motion animated musical Halloween-Christmas fantasy film directed by Henry Selick and produced and conceived by Tim Burton. It became a cult classic during the early 2000s with orchestral concerts occurring every year to celebrate the spectacle of the film.”

Spencer indicated for JJ to change the monitor as he and Y/N stood in front of the team to explain the information.

“Originally, the story began as a poem written by Tim Burton. Both narratives follow the protagonist, Jack Skellington, into his journey to Christmastown, and how he tries to make Christmas his own. The character in question that your unsub is replicating is the love interest of our protagonist. Created by Dr Finkelstein, Sally is a ragdoll-esque character whose body is covered with stitches to keep her together. The form in which all the women were found is identical to this scene in the movie.”

The screen changes to show the scene in question; paused at the precise moment to prover her point.

“All red haired, all Caucasian, all eerily the same. The stitches are exactly the same and the pose in which they are in the pictures are also.”

“We now know which film our unsub is mimicking, but how can we produce a distinguished profile of our unsub? All we can say is that between his third and fourth victim, he suddenly began to feel remorseful of his crimes.”

Y/N looked towards Spencer, waiting for him to speak as he knew more details about the case.

“Garcia checked into the victim’s computer histories and found that all four victims attended a horror convention in the Washington state area over the course of the past month. The convention in particular runs every other weekend, focusing on different horror films to highlight. However, they always make an exception for one film; The Nightmare Before Christmas. Whilst reviewing receipts for the tickets, they were all brought through the convention’s website, which is run by its board of organisation every year. Up until recently, the board has held the same members.”

Derek tapped on his tablet to the convention’s website.

“Last month, the website released details stating that a distinguish member was no longer part of the board due to unforeseen circumstances.”

It suddenly dawned on Y/N who Derek was talking about.

“Dean Faulkner.”

Spencer whipped around towards Y/N.

All eyes laid on her as her breath increased.

“You know him?”

Y/N nodded at Hotch.

“I guest spoke at a panel with him a few years back at a separate university. We were both there, amongst others, to talk about the works of a genre that are expertise were in. I was there to basically provide loose ends for what they could not answer. Dean’s specialised area was horror. The whole time he spoke about what he described as the true villains of horror and of the world.”

Y/N gulped, her mouth going dry.

“Women.”

The wheels began to turn in the team’s heads.

Spencer stepped closer towards Y/N in assurance, seeing that her thoughts were becoming overwhelmed. He quickly stepped back after he realised what he had done.

“He went on a raging tangent about the damsel in distress and the final girl. Going on and on and on about how women are weak and would never be the last one standing if faced against the monsters in real life. How they manipulated the men and made the monsters seem worse than they truly were. The only time he spoke positively about women was when we finally calmed him down and, during a Q&A session, a student asked him who the perfect horror movie character was. He said Sally because she was forgiving and would do anything for Jack; even if that meant falling apart and being sewn back together. I tried to justify that the film does not necessarily fall into the genre of horror. But he rebutted saying that it most definitely did, because of the fact that Jack’s dream did not come true.”

The room was silent for a second, taking in the information.

Suddenly, Y/N grasped the pen from Spencer’s hands. Her finger scribbling across the whiteboard.

“I need to know the names of the victims. Get Penelope on the phone and tell me the names.”

The team shocked at her erratic movements, sat in silence.

“Do you want to capture this guy?”

Spencer licked his lips and repeated the victim’s names.

“Susanna Cole, Alice Dawes, Liberty May, and Lily Trent.”

Y/N swiftly wrote the names on the boards. Each name below the other. Underneath the last name she wrote the letter Y.

“Can you ask Penelope to track any females with the first name beginning with Y who have purchased a ticket to the next convention?”

Derek quickly began to type to her. The rest of the team looking on in disbelief.

“There were twenty-three purchases, but with cross referencing with the similarities in the other victims, one matched. Her name is Yasmine Driver.”

Y/N wrote the name on the board. Circling all the first letters of each name, it became clear there was another connection with the victims.

“Their initials spell Sally.”

Y/N nodded at JJ’s disbelief.

“Reid, when is the next convention being held?”

Spencer diverted his attention to Emily.

“Their schedule every two weeks, so that would make it… tomorrow.”

The team swiftly moved into action.

“JJ bring together the police force for a debrief. Derek and Rossi, go to the convention centre and question the board about Dean. Ask them how often he visited and if they have any knowledge of the victims visits to the convention. Spencer and Emily, contact Penelope for Faulkner’s address. Once you have visited the home, if he is there, bring him in. We’re going to try and catch him before he gets close to his goal. I will locate Yasmine and bring her to the station for safety. We don’t know how far he is going to go and what the end goal of his fantasy is. But we are going to stop him.”

The team swiftly did as they were told, leaving the room with only Spencer and Y/N behind. Just before the door shot, Hotch leaned back in.

“Thank you, Dr Y/L/N, for all your help. If possible, could you stay here with JJ and look through the documents? You know this guy more than we do, so any more information that comes to mind, please let us know.”

Y/N and Spencer watched as Hotch left the room, the door shutting behind him.

As the silence engulfed them, Y/N and Spencer were hyper aware that they were now alone and had been for the first time in weeks.

Spencer swiftly walked towards Y/N and embraced her in a tight hold. Wrapping her arms around the slender man, Y/N breathed in his scent.

“I’ve missed you.”

Y/N chuckled at Spencer’s muffled words, as his head rested on top of her own. Pulling back, Y/N slowly released Spencer, letting her hands drop to her sides.

“I’ve missed you too Doc. We can catch up later, I will be waiting right here. Now, go and save the girl.”

Spencer chuckled at her words but did as Y/N said. Throwing her a smile, Spencer quickly walked out the room, leaving Y/N behind.

Y/N sat in the room, looking over the files as the time passed, waiting to see Spencer return with the rest of the team. A knock on the door startled her from her search.

Looking up at the door, Y/N saw JJ walk into the room with two cups of coffee in her hands. JJ outstretched the one hand, placing the cup in front of Y/N, as she took a seat and began to sip at her own.

“I didn’t know how many sugars you took so I estimated.”

Y/N smiled at the woman’s kindness.

“Thank you. Have you heard anything from the others?”

JJ sat up in her seat as she watched Y/N look over the documents. Her fingers moving across the pages ever so quickly. Her hand that wasn’t tapped continuously on the table in a rhythm.

“Spencer and Emily located Faulkner’s home, but it was vacant. They’re looking around the premises for clues for where he may be; as we speak. Hotch and Derek just called saying they are on their way down with Yasmine now.”

Y/N nodded at her words. Glad to hear that the girl was safe, but the main priority now would be to locate Faulkner. She wanted to truly help them, before anyone else could get hurt.

JJ grabbed her tablet and began to search through the files for any missed out information. Silence befell across the pair, until JJ could not help but ask what they had all been dying to know.

“How did you and Spencer meet?”

Y/N had been waiting for the question. She had seen the looks the team had shared throughout the day. The questioning gazes towards the pair.

“Spencer and I were both guests speaking at the University of California a few months ago. He must have finished his lecture early as he was wondering the halls when he came across the class I was teaching. I was stood on the desk, encouraging the students to do the same. Spencer thought I was a student causing trouble whilst the professor had left the room. He ran in sprouting facts about the percentage of people who fall and severely hurt themselves whilst standing on tables. Telling me that I should get down before he reports me to my professor.”

JJ chuckled at Y/N’s story.

“Sounds like Spence alright.”

Y/N giggled in agreement. As she spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the memory of their first encounter. JJ noticed the smile on the woman’s face. She knew what that smile meant.

“So, I told him that he better stay there to catch me, just in case I fell, as I was trying to teach my students about the importance of character actions, and how doing something as simple as standing on a desk can amplify the tone of the scene. Like in the film Dead Poet’s Society. Spencer finally realised that I was also a guest speaker and he actually stood there for the next 40 minutes of my lecture. I didn’t need to stand on the desk that long, but I wanted to see if he would stay. Once the lecture had finished, he apologised for jumping to conclusions. I apologised for making him wait for 40 minutes in case I fell. He told me I didn’t make him wait; he chose to. We’ve been in contact ever since.”

Just as Y/N finished her story, the door to the conference room opened once more. Looking towards the door, Y/N watched as Hotch entered, followed by Yasmine. The young woman looked scared, but unharmed.

Y/N stood from her seat, unsure of what to do as Hotch insisted for Yasmine to take a seat.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Hotch nodded his head.

“We shouldn’t be long. The rest of the team are outside in the bullpen. You can go ahead and join them. JJ and I will take it from here.”

Y/N nodded her head, leaving the room. She watched as Hotch and JJ questioned spoke to Yasmine through the glass, before she turned and walked down the corridor to find Spencer and his friends.

Turning the corner, Y/N failed to stop herself before bumping into a tall figure. Looking up to apologise, her eyes suddenly widened at the familiar face. Before a sound could leave her lips, a blunt force knocked her out cold.

Spencer and the team discussed where Faulkner could be when Hotch strode into the bull pen.

“How did it go?”

Hotch walked towards his team, ready to answer Derek’s question.

“It seems that Faulkner had been stalking the victims for some time. Yasmine detailed seeing him turn up at the conventions, even though he was no longer allowed. She had previously complained about his behaviour to the board before his dismissal. Stating that Faulkner had sexually harassed her. Rossi, did anyone at the convention mention anything about Faulkner that we don’t know?”

“It seems that Yasmine wasn’t the only one. The other board members went into detail about why he was fired. It turned out that all of our victims, including Yasmine, had filed lawsuits against Faulkner for sexual harassment. The charges were ultimately dropped and never recorded to keep the convention’s reputation clear. But they fired Faulkner and banned him from being able to attend any further conventions. Taking away the Nightmare Before Christmas dedicated stand was just a coincidence. They felt that the convention needed something new as they had been celebrating the film for over eight years.”

Just as Hotch was about to declare what the next step would be in finding Faulkner, JJ burst through the ball pen.

“Guys, you have to come quick.”

The team, in shock, watched as JJ ran back towards the conference room. All quickly on her heels. Entering the room, she took control of the laptop, streaming the image to the projector.

Spencer could no longer breathe as he looked at the image on the screen.

“Y/N.”

The screen showed Y/N tied to a chair and bent forward; clearly in pain. Her surroundings empty and dark.

Suddenly a voice was heard.

“I sense there's something in the wind. That seems like tragedy's at hand isn’t there Dr Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The team watched in horror as Dean Faulkner yanked Y/N’s head back, her body letting out a strangled cry at the pain caused by his actions.

Spencer felt sick, he felt like he was watching himself when Tobias Hankel had held him captive.

“Emily, call Garcia to track his location. We don’t have much time.”

Emily did as Hotch told her to. Talking as quickly as she could on the phone.

“She can’t track it; he’s re-routing the IP address every thirty seconds.”

“She needs to track it. She needs to find her now!”

They all jumped at Spencer’s outburst, watching as tears filled his vision and his hands began to shake.

“Spencer, you need to calm down, we are going to find her. He can’t have taken her far.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words. Taking a breath, he looked back at the screen as he tried to distinguish any recognisable features of where she may be.

Faulkner moved his face to rest against Y/N’s hair, smelling the tresses. She tried to pull away only for him to yank her back again.

“Why did you kill them Dean?”

Faulkner let go of Y/N’s hair. Walking to her side, he grabbed her face in a vicious grip. Yanking her to look at him.

“Why? They ruined my life, everything I ever worked hard for. You all did.”

Y/N looked at him in confusion.

“I did nothing to you.”

Y/N’s breath increased at the vicious look he sent her way. Her eyes flickered to the camera, knowing that Faulkner was streaming what was happening to Spencer and his team. She had to find a way to tell them where she was.

“You made them question my authority. My position. My integrity as a member of the board. You ruined my reputation by belittling me in California.”.

“That’s because you know nothing about horror Dean. You think you know everything about it, but you don’t.”

Spencer couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Why was Y/N taunting him?

“Garcia’s looking to see if there’s any abandoned properties around the area that he could have taken her to.”

Spencer didn’t even acknowledge Emily’s words.

Faulkner reeled back at Y/N’s taunt.

“I know everything there is to know about horror. I’ve seen it all. I’ve lived it. I’ve created it. Ask me anything about it, I know the right answers.”

“But you don’t. You have an idea of horror, your own idea, that is wrong. You believe that women are the reason you lost your job and became the monster that you are. But they’re not. The reason you’re a monster is because of your sick and twisted fantasies. You made those girls feel small and weak, didn’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

The team watched in apprehension.

“Garcia, the location, we need it now.”

Rossi looked between the screen and the phone in Derek’s hand.

“I can get the area he’s holding her, but not the specific building. The whole town is basically abandoned. She could be anywhere from a shop to a house.”

“Keep looking.”

Spencer chewed on his lips. He had to think rationally. If the unsub was upset about the changes and losing his job, what could have been the last straw?

“Derek what was the film they replaced Nightmare Before Christmas with at the convention.”

Derek and Spencer shared a look.

“Cabin in the Woods.”

Spencer ran across the rooms to the files at hand.

“In the location that Garcia has tracked her too, there are three cabins, all within a walking distance of the other.”

The team began to rush out the room, transferring the livestream to a tablet so they could monitor Faulkner and Y/N.

“You’re weak Dean. You’re just like all the horror movie villains. Ghostface, pinhead, jigsaw, all of them. You feed of fear and feeling in control. But the only thing you have in common with them is that you’re not going to win.”

Faulkner scream in rage. Pulling Y/N’s head back, he punched her in the jaw. Striding to the camera, he pushed his face to the lens.

“The party’s over!”

Spencer watched in horror as the feed went off.

“Hotch we have to hurry!”

Hotch sped up the car. Quickly arriving to the location, the team split up into pairs, taking a cabin each to inspect. Hotch and Derek, Rossi and JJ, and Spencer and Emily veered off to their targeted locations. Spencer followed Emily, trying to stay calm, as he slowly walked into the cabin to find it empty, when suddenly a gun shot was heard. Looking in the direction, the pair ran to the cabin that Derek and Hotch had been assigned. The rest of the team already there, looking into the cabin in shock.

“No, no, no, no. Y/N.”

Spencer pushed in front of them, tears pooling in his eyes as he a waited to see the horror before him. He looked in disbelief as Y/N stood from her position on the floor, the gun dropping from her hand as they shook. Faulkner laid a few feet away, in a pool of blood, no longer breathing.

Y/N looked towards the team. Raising her shaking hands towards Spencer.

“I didn’t want to kill him but he was going to shoot whoever walked through the door.”

Spencer rushed forward, grabbing her in a bone crushing hug. His hands stroking her hair as he soother her cries. Leading her out of the cabin, he allowed his team to sort out the rest as he continued to calm Y/N down.

The movement of the team were a blur as ambulances and police cars came. Taking them to the hospital as they sat in the waiting room as Y/N was checked over.

Spencer sat in the waiting room, his leg bouncing up and down with nerves.

Derek excused himself from the groups conversation as he went and sat next to Spencer. Clapping him on the back, Derek squeezed Spencer’s shoulder in re-assurance.

“She’s going to be fine pretty boy.”

“Physically, she has a concussion, bruising along her jawline, and needs stitches on her forehead. Mentally, I don’t know how she is going to handle this. When I suggested asking for her help in the case, I didn’t presume the risk of her being hurt. I should have.”

“Spencer, listen to me. We would have done everything to make sure she lived okay. She not only saved herself but she also helped save Yasmine and this team. Any one of us could have been shot if she had not thought fast and got the gun out of his hands. You know, better than anyone, how to help her deal with this.”

Spencer took in Derek’s words, nodding his head in appreciation, as he leaned against his friend in a comforting hug.

“Probably wasn’t the ideal way to introduce your girlfriend to the team though.”

Spencer stuttered at Derek’s teasing.

“We’re profilers Spencer. We’ve all noticed how you’ve been happier these past few months and seeing how persistent you were for us to consult Y/N, it gave us all an idea why. Seeing you together only confirmed our suspicions. So, how long has pretty boy had his pretty girl?”

Spencer chuckled at Derek’s words. Ringing his hands together as he spoke to Derek.

“Tomorrow is actually our six-month anniversary. She was going to be flying back today so we could celebrate; unless I got called on a case.”

“We can still celebrate.”

Spencer looked up as Y/N walked through the waiting room, fresh stitches on her forehead and an ice pack resting in her hands.

“The nurse said that there was no internal damage. That my body will just be sore for a few weeks. My concussion is light, so I am alright to travel home.”

The team gathered around to check on her. But her eyes could not leave Spencer’s as he rose from his seat. Spencer walked forward slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. Carefully he cupped her face in his hands, and to the surprise of Y/N and his team, Spencer bowed his head and placed a careful kiss on Y/N’s lips. Slow, protective, and full of love.

Pulling back, Spencer wrapped his arms around her as he looked at the beaming smiles of his teammates. Y/N couldn’t help the blush across her cheeks or the giggle that followed. Soon, everyone was chuckling at the pair.

“I would like to thank you Y/N. From the entire team. Your actions saved a young woman’s life, and what could have been one of our own.”

Y/N smiled in appreciation at Rossi’s words.

“You’re Spencer’s family. I would do it all again if I had to.”

“Statistically speaking, around 2,000 people a day are reported missing in the US. Approximately, 600 of those would be reported or considered kidnappings. It is highly unlikely for you to be put in a situation like that again.”

Y/N looked up at her boyfriend.

“I never thought I would say this, but your talk about me being kidnapped again is really attractive.”

The team laughed at the girl’s statement, seeing Spencer become physically embarrassed.

“Just to inform everyone, the jet will be ready to depart in forty-five minutes. As I was informed that today you would have been heading home, Y/N we have sent for your belongings to be collected; you can fly back with us.”

Spencer smiled at Hotch in gratitude, the older man knowing he would have only worried if she had flown home alone.

“Thank you, Mr Hotchner.”

Hotch let out a brief smile.

“Call me Hotch. Your part of Spencer’s life, that means your part of this family.”

BAU JET

It had been an exhausting few days for the team, and it showed, as they all were sporadically asleep throughout the jet. Silence encompassed the steel capsule, with only the sound of sleep filled breaths being heard.

Y/N laid fast asleep, with her head on Spencer’s shoulder, as the boy genius sat up wide awake. Looking down at the woman next to him, all Spencer could imagine was what could have happened if they weren’t quick enough. How many days he would have lost with her. All the things he wanted to tell her.

As though she could sense his deep thoughts, Y/N slowly awoke, rubbing her eyes as a yawn escaped her mouth. Blinking her eyes rapidly, she waited till she was fully conscious before she spoke.

“What time is it Doc?”

Spencer jostled out of his thoughts to check the watch on his wrist.

“It’s 2:36 am. You’ve been asleep for approximately 3 hours and 22 minutes.”

Y/N quickly sat up in her seat, wide awake.

Spencer turned towards her in worry, wondering what had made her so alert.

“What wrong? Are you feeling nauseous? Do you need some painkillers, as your due to have…”

Y/N grabbed Spencer’s face and placed her lips flush against his own. Their mouths moved in unison, as Spencer’s own hands moved to circle around her waist, bringing their bodies as close as they could be in the small space they had. They hadn’t kissed since the hospital, and before then it had been weeks. Spencer never realised until then, how much he truly missed her touch, her taste, her as a whole.

Coming to a point where they both lacked breathe, the pair pulled apart. Their eyes fluttering open as Y/N’s hands caressed Spencer’s face. Her one hand travelled to his hair, feeling the tresses that had grown since she had last seen him. She looked at him in a way no one had before. Spencer shared the same expression.

“Happy six-month anniversary Spencer. I love you.”

Spencer looked at Y/N in disbelief.

“Before you start spouting of facts about transference and how I am probably only saying this because you saved my life, you’re wrong. Because then I would be telling Hotch and Morgan the same thing.”

Spencer couldn’t help the watery smile that graced his face. For the second time in the past day, his eyes filled with tears. But this time, they were good.

“I’ve known I have loved you for a long time. For five months actually. I knew I loved you when we made pizza in your apartment and we ended up burning it, so we ordered one instead.”

Spencer laughed at the memory. It was the first time Spencer had initiated their make out. He had watched her cooking, in his apartment, and he had never found her more attractive than he did seeing her in his home.

“I knew that whilst you were spouting of facts about the invention of the pizza that I loved you and that I could listen to you forever. I love you Spencer.”

Spencer pulled Y/N closer to him as he rested his forehead against her own. The pair basked in each other’s presence.

“Past surveys show that men wait just 88 days to say those three little words to their partner for the first time, and 39 percent say them within the first month. Women, on the other hand, take an average 134 days. You knew after 31 days that you loved me. I knew after our first date that the way I felt when I was with you is a feeling that I could not even describe with my vast vocabulary. I knew after 8 days that the way I felt was stronger than liking you and that was a frightening thought. But its scarier to think what could have happened to you yesterday. That I could have lost you without you ever knowing. I made that mistake before. I will never make it again. I love you too.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile and giggle that overtook her. Spencer, feeling high of the serotonin that was coursing through his body, couldn’t help his laugh either. Soon the pair were a giggling mess, unaware of the team who had all begun to awaken whilst the pair were talking.

The team congregated to the back of the jet, allowing the couple to stay in their own bubble.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen him truly happy.”

The group nodded at Emily’s words.

JJ smiled as she watched her best friend rattle of the possible movies that he and his girlfriend could spend their anniversary watching as she recovered. Her smile growing even wider at Y/N’s enthusiasm to watch the film’s in their original language. None of them could miss the look of adoration beaming between the pair.

“Yeah, it really has.”

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. -Lao Tzu

A/N- It isn’t the best but I really enjoyed writing this one.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagines

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songbirdstyles · 3 years

Text

sparks

summary: you’re a music journalist assigned to covering one of harry styles’ gigs, and he’s absolutely smitten with you. (part one.)

warnings: slight fluff, excessive liberties taken about music journalism; smut in later chapters, angst in later chapters

word count: 8.2k

inspo.: almost famous - cameron crowe; sparks - the who; hello, i love you - the doors

You’d never truly gotten a big assignment before - sure, you’d gotten a few pieces here and there detailing local LA bands that you knew would never live to see more than 100,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, and they mostly ended up buried by your higher-ranking coworker’s higher end stories on the front covers - and, for the most part, you’d honestly been fine with it. You’re fresh out of college, the newest recruit to your company and your colleagues who are sent out to tour with big bands and artists have been here for years, some even decades, and you suppose they deserve the opportunities more than you, don’t they?

You work your way up, your boss had told you the first day you’d started working, following him around like an eager puppy as he showed you the office. Eventually - if I’m impressed with you - you’ll get something big.

It’s enough for you. Small bands playing in hole-in-the-wall clubs and restaurants may not be the exact thing you’d envisioned when you’d set your sights on being a music journalist but it’s worked out well for you so far, hasn’t it? You’ve made friends - even dated the lead singer of an underground rock band who cheated on you hardly two weeks into the relationship - and your portfolio is slowly building, stacked with exposés and detailed recounts of small gigs that you’d watched from backstage. Eventually, you’ll leave this company and move on to something bigger, like Rolling Stone, and your career will take off until you’re practically the face of music journalism.

And, really, those dreams have carried you through college and the first year of your career, putting your all into every article and every piece just so your boss can tug you into his office one day with a rarely-seen grin to finally tell you -

“I want you to write an article on Harry Styles.”

You furrow your eyebrows, shifting in the cushy office seat that your boss has for guests in his office. It’s a facade that you’ve learned to acknowledge, because, no matter how much he makes it look like he appreciates guests in his office, you know he regards you as nothing more than an interloper, even if he’d invited you there to begin with. “Harry Styles?”

“You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?” Mike asks, light shining off his bald head, and your mouth opens and closes a few times uselessly.

“Of course I have!” You push yourself to sit up straighter in your seat, staring up at your boss with shock written in every feature of your face. You, writing about Harry Styles? God, you nearly want to pinch yourself to see if you’re dreaming. “Write an article about - about what?”

Mike scoffs in that pretentious way that makes you hate ever having to talk to him, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at him. “He’s coming to do a few shows along the West Coast. You can go to one or two - talk to him a bit, talk to his band - you’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“With small bands, sure - Tacocat and - and the Mystery Lights -” You swallow thickly, and Mike stares down at you in your seat like he’s unimpressed with your enthusiasm, or lack thereof. And it’s not that you aren’t executed - but, Christ. Going from bands performing in underground clubs to Harry Styles is like going straight from crawling to flying a fucking plane and you’re not sure if any of your experience with the musical locality in LA could prepare you for that. “I mean, that’s huge, Mike.”

“It is huge,” Mike confirms, crossing his thick arms over his chest, leaning against the desk before you as though he’s immune to sitting in his seat behind his desk like a normal boss. “Do you not want to do it? Because Melissa, you know - she’d love to, was going on and on about it last week -”

“No!” Your cheeks flush at the volume your voice raises to, and if you didn’t know better you could swear you see the ghost of a grin on Mike’s face. “I want to, Mike, I really want to - it’s just crazy.” There’s a pregnant pause between the two of you, your boss nodding smugly down at you as you struggle for words, before you ask the question burning the tip of your tongue with its desire to be heard. “But - why me? I’m sure you have people more qualified for it -”

“Easy,” Mike says, cutting you off and you’d be annoyed in any other instance but you’re too desperate to hear his answer. “Look, Harry’s a young guy. Younger than anyone else our people have interviewed - I think he’ll respond more to a young, pretty girl like yourself than someone older than him.”

Well, that makes sense, you suppose. The only coworker even close to you in age is Melissa, and she’s pushing 30 as it is. You’re 23 - graduated college just over a year ago, and by far the newest recruit this company has taken in years - but you had always imagined that was the main reason you wouldn’t get many big articles, and here it’s the main factor in you getting what will surely be the highlight of your portfolio once you apply to Rolling Stone. An interview with Harry Styles - God, they’ll probably foam at the mouth when they see it, and a grin spreads across your face as you think of it.

“Is that a yes?” Mike questions, blonde eyebrows raised high and nearly disappearing into his scalp.

“Of course,” you respond without another moment of hesitation, and you push yourself to stand, office chair rolling behind you with the force, and it hits the wall behind you with a soft thump. “Yes - of course - of course.”

“Great.” And he crosses to the other side of his desk, pushing aside a few loose papers and folders on his desk, and you clutch your hands in front of your stomach as you watch him, practically bouncing up and down with uncontained joy and fear bubbling inside of you. The last time you’d felt like this was the first time you got a real assignment - more than just ranking songs and discussing new album releases - and you’d been sent to a strip club to cover a gig from an up-and-coming band. Back then, you’d never expected to ever feel more excited over anything in your life, and yet, here you are, eight months later, fighting back the urge to burst into joyful tears. “They come in a week - I’ll send you the address - if you need help with your questions -”

“I’ll ask Francine,” you finish the same advice he gives you every time you’re assigned an article, referring to your oldest coworker - a little old woman who’s been with the company since the 70s. She’s always been more than willing to help you with your assignments but this - you need to do this by yourself. “Thank you so much, Mike, this is - this is great.”

“Don’t let me down,” he says, pointing his finger at you, and you nod furiously. “I’m trusting you on this - it’s a big opportunity.”

“I won’t disappoint you,” you promise, holding up your crossed fingers just to show him how much you mean it, and you know it’s the truth - you’ll make this piece the best damn one this company has ever seen if it’s the last thing you ever do.

The night begins a bit - rocky, to say the least.

For one, you couldn’t decide what to wear, even after spending nearly a half hour trying on every variation of clothes in your closet and tossing them onto the floor of your studio apartment when they didn’t satisfy your needs. In the past you’d worn to gigs what you’d wear if you were a simple concertgoer, albeit a bit more modestly, but you can’t decide what you would wear to a Harry Styles concert if you got the regular chance to - and you’d never even dreamt that it would happen in the first place -

Well, you peruse your closet intently and land on a pair of patterned flare pants and a long sleeve sweater. It only seems fitting for the chilly weather outside, and you fold a shirt into your bag in case you need to change if it gets hot backstage. You’re not dressed to impress, necessarily - you’re dressed to get a job done, as Mike would always say, but how could you be expected to not attempt to impress Harry Styles? It’s a preposterous idea. You’re sure anyone would understand.

Journalism pass - phone - keys - deodorant - when you’ve checked your bag over three times to ensure you have everything necessary you finally leave, locking your door shut behind you and ordering an Uber to take you to the concert.

You hadn’t anticipated Uber and Lyft being absolutely overloaded with patrons due to the concert just a half hour away and you need to be there by 6:30 at the very latest to ensure you get in and can at least talk to Harry before he goes on - a quarter of your questions are geared towards how he feels pre show and you can’t get pre show questions after the show - that’s barbaric. But the minutes inch closer to 5:30 and your Uber driver is still ten minutes away and your heart beats so fast against your chest you think you might vomit right into the street in front of your building -

You’re in the car by 5:45. It’s not ideal, and you know you’re cutting it close, but hopefully you’ll be there before the soundcheck ends. It’s always an ideal time to take photos, watching the band warm up and check mics, and with a piece like this, you need all the opportunities for pictures you can get.

And traffic is horrible - you suppose that’s also to be expected, and your Uber driver curses in a language you can’t recognize as cars cut him off on the highway and if you were a different person, you’d recommend a shortcut he takes, but he doesn’t look like he wants to hear a single word come from your mouth. He had given you a dirty look when you entered the car, and that’s enough to make you shut up and pray for the entire car ride that you make it on time.

6:27. Mike would piss himself if he knew how close you cut it, and you hop out of the car with a speed you didn’t even know you could muster, pushing past the buzzing crowd standing in front of the main entrance. The hoard of people seems to have a steady heartbeat, pulsing with excitement much like your own, and you can’t help but smile as you make your way around the group, goosebumps cropping up over your skin as your teeth chatter in the coldness. For a moment you fear that the directions to the backstage entrance that Mike had given you were total bullshit - but then you see the door, blocked by a burly security guard that glowers at you as you walk up to him like you’re something sticky beneath his shoe.

“Hi!” you call, breath exploding in a white cloud in front of you in the cool night air. The security guard smells so strongly of booze that you need to try harder than you’d care to admit not to scrunch your nose - you cough softly. “Let me - um - find my pass - I’m with Autoamerican, the magazine?”

Fingers grab onto your journalism pass, deep within your bag, and you tug it out, flashing it to the security guard with a slightly nervous grin. All of the gigs you’d been to before hadn’t even had backstage doors - to get backstage, you just had to climb onto the stage and walk behind the wings - but this is a fucking stadium, not just a measly club, and a big one, at that. In your youth you’re sure you could recall your dad watching a football game that occurred in this very stadium - funny how life turns out, sometimes.

“Autoamerican?” the security guard questions, bringing his face closer to your badge as the wafting smell of alcohol increases, and he raises his eyebrows with a scoff. “Never heard of it.”

“Oh.” you pause, feeling your teeth beginning to chatter in the cool February air. You’re not quite sure what to say - you’d assumed Mike had called to arrange the entire thing, hadn’t he? And this is the time you’re supposed to be here - “well, we’re not as big as Rolling Stone magazine, but - we’ve done interviews with The Cure, The Smiths - even Zeppelin, at one point -”

Your voice trails off into silence. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at you like you’re some innocent teenage girl, trying to bribe your way backstage so you can bombard the artist and not a fully grown woman here on business, goddammit. And you’re not sure what to say - he doesn’t believe you, clearly, and you hadn’t anticipated that even as you listed all the ways tonight could go wrong.

“Look, kid,” he begins, and that really has your blood boiling, eyes narrowing to glare at him. “We get this all the time. I’m a journalist - I’m with the crew - it’s a bunch of bullshit. Now go to the front with your general admission tickets like the rest of them -”

“I have a pass - I’m a journalist!”

“Sure -”

“I can call my boss if you want proof!”

And before you can reach into your bag to search relentlessly for your phone to follow through on the promise like you intend to, the door the man is guarding suddenly swings open, nearly hitting the guard in the ass as it opens out. You take a step back as dim light from inside floods the darkness, and a man steps out of the doorway, his eyes darting between you and the security guard.

“Are you with Autoamerican?” the man questions, raising his finger to point at you as though he could be speaking to anyone else. You nod furiously, and you hold up your journalism pass again just to prove it. “You can come inside, then - c’mon, Steve, she’s got a pass, for God’s sake -”

And you can’t resist flashing the guard a smug smile as he steps to the side to let you inside, rolling his eyes so far back into his head that all you can see is a strip of white.

The man lets you inside and the door shuts behind you, and you nearly knock straight into a second security guard standing by the door inside, as though trying to stop people from going out. And, well - you’ve been backstage at more concerts than you could count but this is certainly bigger, better, bustling with people carrying equipment and makeup artists and more people you couldn’t possibly identify. You’re half inclined to reach into your bag and grab your notebook to jot down exactly what you’re seeing so you can make sure to include it in the article, but you have a distinct feeling you’ll never forget it.

“I’m Jeff,” the man tells you, already setting off through the people, and you’re quick to follow, trying to maintain your pace beside him. After a second of walking in silence you realize he’s waiting for you to say yours - you clear your throat and introduce yourself, and he sends you a smile. “The band just finished their soundcheck, if you’d like to have a word with them before they go on - what’s the article about, anyway?”

Jeff shoulders the two of you through lingering groups of people until you emerge into a small hallway lined with doors, and you can hear bustling noise coming from the one closest to you - holy shit, is that Harry?

“Um - just about the shows, the tour, how everything’s going. My boss basically told me to do what I want with it, so I’ll have a better idea once I speak to the band.” It’s the loosest instruction you’ve ever been given for a piece - you’d expected a clear cut outline - but perhaps with an artist this big, Mike trusts you to know what to write. “It likely won’t be anything too personal, but I’d love to get a chance to speak with Harry before and after.”

“Sounds great,” and you can tell he’s stressed - you wonder if he’s always anxious before his client’s shows, or if there’s something special about tonight that has him worried - and then he reaches past you, twisting the doorknob closest to you and holding the door open for you to enter before him, and you give him a gracious smile before walking in.

The room isn’t as crowded with people as you’d expected but they’re bustling with energy - a woman and a man, holding a guitar, lean against the wall with each other - two other women sip water bottles, laughing loudly amongst each other - another woman leans above someone, their body hidden from view except for their legs, covered in silk, floral printed pants -

Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff shuts the door behind you both, and the sound of the door clicking shut draws far more attention to yourself than you’d expected - it seems like every pair of eyes lands on you and Jeff, and you’d decided on being a music journalist to keep away from being the center of attention. You’ve always preferred being behind the scenes, a bit, at least until your career progresses until you’re a household name for music journalism, and now -

You feel very much in the scenes, eyes on you as Rhiannon plays in the background.

And then Jeff is tapping you on your shoulder, leading you around the room to the small groups of people lingering - you shake hands with Mitch and Sarah, the couple against the wall, and the rest of his band, and they’re so nice your smile feels like it’s going to break your face in half. You’ll need to interview them at some point - nothing too intense, and you may not even need to, if Harry’s answers are satisfactory enough - and you can already feel yourself building a strange sort of rapport with the band, their kindness rubbing off on you until you practically glide beside Jeff to the woman bent over Mr. Floral Pants, whose identity you’re fairly certain you’ve already deduced.

It doesn’t make it any more surprising when the woman steps aside where she’s carefully applying powder to the man’s face, and then Harry fucking Styles is staring up at her with a smile and an outstretched hand, suit jacket matching the floral pattern of his pants. His curls are carefully slicked back from his face, skin matte with the powder the woman resumes applying to the side of his face that isn’t turned to you, and you swallow your shock before reaching to shake his hand, Rhiannon turning into Hello, I Love You, playing from a source you can’t identify.

“Nice t’meet you,” Harry says when you’ve told him your name and the magazine you work for - Jeff had already mentioned it, but it is customary to repeat it to whomever you may have to interview. “Y’know, I love Autoamerican - told Jeff, s’the only magazine I’d let interview me backstage. Don’t usually allow it.”

“Really?” your stomach flips as Harry stops bouncing his arm, but it takes just another half second for him to untwine his hand from yours - you’re sure it’s because the makeup artist fretting above him is using her thumb to wipe off powder from his nose, but it still makes your heart thump faster against your chest. “I assumed most people haven’t heard of it - it’s nowhere near Rolling Stone.”

“I love it,” he insists, dropping your hand, and he looks so casual, as if this interaction isn’t blowing up your entire life, and you’re brought back to the many moments you’d spent as a teenager fawning over him in his One Direction days - God, this feels like a dream, and you’re half inclined to pinch yourself in case it is. Maybe you’ll wake up in Mike’s office to him giving you another shitty underground LA band to interview. “The interview with Sublime s’great - read it all the time.”

You swallow thickly, grin spreading wider across your face, and before you can open your mouth to tell him about Francine’s go-to story about how Eric Wilson had flirted with her while she interviewed them for the story, Jeff interjects - “Steve hadn’t even heard of it.”

“Steve’s an idiot,” Harry starts, and you giggle - his lips lilt upwards just a bit. “Hope he wasn’t hasslin’ you ‘bout it.”

“Just a little,” you say, hoisting your bag further up your shoulder just as the makeup artist drops the powder back into the apron slung around her waist, and her manicured nails tilt Harry’s head around for a moment before she seemingly deems his makeup satisfactory before leaving, sending you a tight lipped smile as she goes. “I’d love to ask you a few questions before the show - nothing too heavy - and then I’ll observe the concert and how everything goes, ask a few questions after.”

“Sounds great,” Harry responds, lifting his fist with his thumb up and you didn’t think your heartbeat could grow any faster or louder but you suppose today is just proving you wrong time and time again. “D’you need t’record m’answers? S’a bit loud in here.”

The truth is, you’re sure you’ll have this entire experience engraved in your brain for years to come - you’ll remember every word he utters for you until your dying days - but it is more practical to have a recording. You swing your bag off your arm and open it, digging through the jumbled mess of items inside until you find your phone, and you hold it up with a nod. “Yeah - there isn’t anywhere a bit quieter, is there?”

It takes a minute of bustling - Jeff tells you two instructions to go down the hall into another room where you may find more silence - and Harry promises, accent thick and eyes rolling, to be back in twenty minutes or less, if tha’s enough time for you, ma’am, and you try to trick yourself into thinking the burn flushing up your cheeks is due to the heat of the room.

Down the hall is another door that Harry opens for you, letting you walk in first. It’s a small room, clearly meant for storage, and he shuts the door behind the pair of you. There’s - luckily, or perhaps unluckily - just enough room for you two have at least a few feet between you, and he leans against the wall with an air of casual elegance you couldn’t hope to achieve as you scroll through your phone to search for the voice recorder app.

“Hope this s’good enough - is it?” Harry inquires, leaning his head closer to yours, and you nod. “Good - wish there was a nicer spot for you, but -”

“Don’t worry about it,” you interject, smiling up at him, and he grins back, and your stomach churns violently. You almost feel like you could vomit - when he goes on, you’ll go and have a bit to eat at the table set up with foods that Jeff had wheeled you past when you arrived. Eating seems to solve more of your nerves than you’d care to admit, and you feel like you’re nearly 95% nerves right now. Your fingers fiddle with the voice recorder app, adding a title to the recording while entirely too focused on the sounds of Harry’s breathing above you, and you can practically fear his eyes boring into your face before you press record.

And, for the most part, it does go smoothly. Harry introduces himself with an ease that only comes with years of practice, so much time spent being interviewed that it must feel like as much of a second nature to him as interviewing is to you. He’s charming and charismatic - flirtatious, even - making jokes and adding lines that you make a mental note to be sure to include in your final piece - whatever direction you go - and you can’t say you’re bothered by the way he leans closer to the phone, and thus closer to you, in order for his voice to be heard more on the recording when occasional noise bustles in from outside.

You don’t need to look at the questions you’d spent weeks laboring over - every question you inquire derives directly from his answers like he’s practically feeding them to you, and then you’re interviewing him so naturally, you could nearly fool yourself into thinking it’s an organic conversation between friends.

What’s his process to prepare for shows? Well, listening to Fleetwood Mac and eating finger foods, of course - he loves mozzarella sticks. Does Fleetwood Mac make you less nervous for shows? No, he doesn’t get too anxious before shows, now that he’s out of the band. He just loves Fleetwood Mac - he could listen to them at any time of the day. What do you think makes your solo career less anxiety-inducing than being in the band? Different fans let him be himself more. There’s less pressure to be someone he isn’t - do you think he could’ve worn a floral printed suit at a One Direction concert?

And, in the end, twenty minutes hardly feels like it, and by the time Harry tilts his head over the screen of your phone to check the time, you could nearly convince yourself that you’d merely spent a minute with the heartthrob, and it pains you to stop the recording.

“How’d I do?” he questions, cheeky smile indenting the dimple in his cheek, and you feel like you need to dip your face in ice once he goes on stage - your face hasn’t felt anything less than piping hot since the first moment he rested eyes on you, and his kind-bordering-on-flirtatious nature only makes your skin heat more under his gaze.

It isn’t as though you’d have it any other way, though.

“Perfect,” and you send him a smile. “I’ll watch the show - probably eat a bit, too, if I’m being honest - and maybe ask you a few questions. How many shows are you doing in LA?”

Harry reaches past you, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door for you once more, and you slip out with a small smile as he follows, face twisted in what’s clearly a show of being in deep thought. “Four. An’ a few more on the West Coast ‘fore we move out - reckon you’ll need t’come t’a few more?”

“Depends.” He looks at you curiously as the two of you make your way back to the room you’d been in before, and when you enter, it’s clearly in a more prominent state of preparation for the show - there’s more bustle and movement between every band member and Jeff, who looks entirely relieved to see you two come in as She’s a Rainbow thumps softly, volume clearly turned down on whatever produces the music. “If I feel like I’ve got enough material from this show, then that’ll be it - I usually just do reviews of specific gigs, and this is a lot broader - so I really don’t know.”

Harry nods, and you feel a flutter in your heart at how intently he seems to be listening to you, like he really cares, and you’re sure it’s a facade - he probably has a million other things on his mind as Jeff descends upon the both of you, whisking him away as he calls goodbye! to you - but still. When was the last time you’d felt listened to? By Mike, or by the security guard outside, or even from your own parents when you try to convince them over and over that you have a plan, that your degree wasn’t a waste of time when you could’ve been a doctor -

Well, Harry’s a gentleman, you decide, sliding your phone into the back pocket of your flares as you reach in your bag for your notepad. You can tell they’re preparing to go on soon and so you descend against the wall, grabbing your pen from deep inside the confines of your bag to scribble the essential notes of what you’ll need - it’ll make it easier when it’s time to write, rather than listening to the entire 20 minute interview again to try and find the important sections to include.

His responses to your question still burn fresh in your mind, and you began scribbling your bullet points on the small notepad in your hands. It’s decently easy to block out the chatter of the room you’re in along with its music, volume turned down further until it’s hardly audible, and it really is a skill you’ve mastered, though you suppose you’ve had to - trying to take notes for articles about gigs occurring in buildings so small that their noise reverberates off of every surface has made you a master in tuning out noise surrounding you.

You are aware, and acutely, at that, when the band starts exiting through the door beside you. They don’t look nervous, returning your encouraging smiles with ones of their own, and you watch them pour out the door with confidence practically radiating off of them. Well, that’s something to mention, isn’t it? Most of the bands you’d interviewed were practically vomiting with nerves -

Harry takes up the rear, fingers running through his slicked back hair, and you can’t tell if it’s a nervous habit or if he’s simply trying to let his curls fall in front of his eyes more. Jeff walks in front of him, giving you a smile as he leaves, and the singer stops beside you.

Your breath just about catches in your throat as you look up at him, and he’s staring down at you with a decidedly ambiguous look in his eyes, and you smile at him. “Good luck out there.”

“You’re gonna come and watch?”

You nod. “Eventually - I’m gonna eat something first, finish my notes. Maybe give myself a tour of the backstage in case I decide to include it.”

“Sounds good t’me,” Harry says, but he doesn’t make a motion to leave, and then his eyes roll down your body and is he fucking checking you out? Because - no - that’s crazy. That would cement into your brain the knowledge that this is a dream, and not reality, because there’s no fucking way Harry Styles is checking you out, eyes roaming from your eyes to your stomach to your - “I like your pants. Where’d you get ‘em?”

Ah. Of course. Fashion icon, he is, inquiring about the pants you’d chosen specifically because they looked like something he may like. “These?” You glance down as though you’d forgotten what pants you’d donned, as though you hadn’t spent hours in front of your closet envisioning what outfit you could wear to impress him. “I think they’re from Zara. Got them a couple years back.”

“They’re pretty.”

“Why, thank you -”

“Harry!”

Jeff’s voice calling from outside the room snaps you both out of your conversation, a slightly embarrassed grin spreading across Harry’s face that you’re sure is mirroring your own. His cheeks are tinged pink and he clears his throat.

“Sorry - gotta go - make sure y’try the mozzarella sticks, ‘kay? They’re good,” Harry tells you, and you grin, drumming the pen clutched between your fingers against the notepad in your hands.

“Will do,” you reply, and then you lift your hand and point to the door, raising your eyebrows with a smile. “Go break a leg - and then be ready to talk about it when you’re done!”

He doesn’t say anything else - just gives you a thumbs up and slips out the door, and you can hear his frenzied apologies to Jeff as their voices fade away, surely preparing to get on stage and sing his heart out and blow the fucking stadium away, but you can hardly focus on it. Because - God, you really don’t want to sound like a narcissist - but he was joking around with you, complimented your pants, and he did technically check you out, even if it was just to see your pants.

Was he flirting with you?

Surely not. No, that would be absurd. He’s probably just bored - maybe entertaining random people backstage is his way of dealing with his nerves.

That makes a bit more sense.

When you glance back down at your notepad, the page half filled with scribbled bullet points of things you’d sworn to remember, and when you click your pen open to continue your list, you find that you can’t quite think of anything else to write. All you can think about is the mozzarella sticks waiting for you, and then standing in the wings to watch him sing his heart out to a crowd of adoring fans that you, at one point, would have killed to be apart of -

You shove your pen and pad back into your bag with a determined spin of your heels. Food first - contemplation second.

~~~

The show is - needless to say - amazing.

You’d feasted on slightly-cold mozzarella sticks that were, even in their lowered temperatures, immensely good, and clearly garnered all the affection Harry had for them. The food table was nearly completely empty, crew members repeatedly coming up to fill plates with vegetables and snacks, and so you simply gathered the last three sticks of celery once you were done with your sticks before taking a leisurely stroll along the backstage area. Celery firm between your teeth, you pulled out your notepad and your pen once more and jotted notes of what you could possibly include in the article to jog your memory later -

It takes a while, admittedly. You don’t want to leave anything out, and eventually you have two pages filled with notes in your handwriting that would surely be illegible to anyone else who happened upon them - and, sure, your pages are small, but still. Two pages is a lot, and you’re sure most of it won’t even make it into the article but you don’t want to risk forgetting any important information.

A trip to the bathroom - perusing the food table again to pick up the last few carrot sticks - and the show is nearly halfway over, so you decide it may be time to slip into the wings and watch. Take notes, possibly, but mainly just listen and absorb the music and the atmosphere and exactly how the fans react to his every move. That’s what the people want to know, isn’t it? It’s what you would want to know - so you slip past the lingering groups of people into the wings of the stage, where you get a clear view of Harry and his band, singing his heart out to a tune you know to be Kiwi.

It’s ear splitting, truly, in a way that none of the other gigs you’d witnessed had been. But it sounds good - better than good - and he’s as charismatic on stage as he is off, waggling his eyebrows during the more suggestive lines and undoing the button of his suit jacket, and the latter garners a deafening scream from the adoring fans in the crowd.

No, you won’t need to take notes, at least not yet. You’ll remember this forever, won’t you? Watching him work the crowd like he was born to do it, like it’s a second nature and you’re sure it is, at this point. It’s all you can do to stand there, watching him, and you’re sure you look no different from the other fans in the crowd, your eyes wide and lips parted in absolute awe of him -

His head turns to the side, briefly, as if he can sense your eyes on him above anyone else’s. In reality you’re sure he’d simply turned his head to flick a sweaty curl out of his face but it’s never a bad thing to dream right? And your gaze locks for just a moment, his eyebrows raising when he sees your face, and heat burns at your cheeks before his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his right eye shuts in a quick wink before he’s turning back to the crowd as if his attention had never left them.

Shit. You nearly drop your damn carrot. God, he’s a fucking tease, and you’re not even sure he knows it - that this experience will never leave your brain for as long as you walk this Earth, watching him wink as he stared into the depths of your fucking soul, clad in a gorgeous suit with his gorgeous hair and -

Harry truly is a sight to behold, and you’re more than content to watch him forever.

Forever ends up being another half hour or so before you’re made entirely too aware of the fact that you have to pee - not insanely bad, but enough to make you shift uncomfortably from side to side before sighing, turning and making your way further backstage in your search for the bathroom. In your determined tour of the backstage you’d forgotten to search for the restroom, and you wander about for nearly five whole minutes before getting to it -

You do your business. There’s not much more explanation needed.

It’s when your washing your hands, though, water freezing cold against your palms, that you become slightly aware of a myriad of noises occurring outside the restroom. At first you choose not to focus on it, shoving your hands beneath the air dryer to ease your soaking, cold hands, and the noise of violent air assaulting your palms drowns out the scuffling sounds from outside.

When the dryer turns off, and you reach down to wipe your damp hands on your pants, the noises haven’t stopped. And, sure, no one could expect it to be completely silent backstage, but whatever you’re hearing isn’t the normal laughter and chatter and muffled music that you’re used to hearing -

It sounds like someone is fighting, and your hand freezes in its place on the cool metal doorknob. You lean forward, scrunching your nose as you plainly try harder to hear what’s happening -

But, Hell. You have a job to do - you need to get back to the wings to watch the remaining few minutes of the set before Harry leaves and, subsequently, returns for the encore, and you’d intended to write with detail about his closing repetition of Kiwi. So you grab the doorknob, swing the door open and step out, and freeze nearly immediately once you’ve exited.

There is a fight - not as violent as you’d expected - as the security guard from inside scuffles with Steve, who looks positively wasted in a way you’ve come to know all too well, doing gigs in LA. His face shines with a sheen layer of sweat, skin glowing in the artificial light, and his fists move slowly to pummel into the other security guard’s back. It’s, truthfully, a bit pathetic to watch - he isn’t putting up much of a fight against the guard trying to hold him, and your mouth parts with poorly-concealed confusion at the display in front of you.

You’re not sure what to say - or do - or think - standing in the doorway of the bathroom as you watch the poor excuse of a fight, Steve nearly toppling to the ground as the other guard tries to contain him.

“Come on, Steve - don’t be like this -”

Then the other security guard looks up and sees you, and the expression on his face nearly makes you burst into laughter, but you contain it with a bit more difficulty than you’d like to admit. He looks annoyed, like he’s absolutely done with his coworker, and also slightly embarrassed. Clearly, he’d dragged Steve into the hallway containing the bathrooms with the hopes of nobody seeing either of them, and you’ve interrupted his bid for privacy desperately. “Sorry, ma’am,” the guard says, grabbing one of Steve’s flailing fists in his hands. “Don’t mind us - he’s drunk - just trying to contain him.”

You’re doing a damn good job, you want to say, but you bite back the retort with a small nod and a whisper of a smile on your face, walking with your back to the wall past their display in the hopes of Steve not seeing you. He hadn’t been particularly nice to you when you’d first seen him and you can tell he’s in a much more heightened state, now - he’d been drunk when you’d seen him before and you can tell it’s only gotten worse.

Maybe you should’ve told Jeff the guard was drunk?

Well, it’s counterproductive to dwell on the past.

You’re not so lucky, though - you’ve barely made it down five steps down the hallway before Steve lifts his head, pupils blown and skin even stickier looking than before, and he gives you the same disgusted look as though you’re something his dog had left on the grass. “Hey - hey - Jim - do you know who that is?”

And the other security guard - Jim - just rolls his eyes. “No, Steve, I don’t - stop making a fool out of yourself.”

“She works at - at - Eat to the Beat - Parallel Lines - what is it?”

Do you answer him? You don’t quite know. You just swallow thickly, forcing yourself not to don the smile that’s urging its way onto your lips as you hear roaring screams from the crowd that alerts you to the fact that, if Harry isn’t done with his set yet, he’s close, and you need to watch the end. “Autoamerican. Those are all good albums, though.”

“She’s snarky - get off of me, Jim -”

In Steve’s final bid for freedom his legs kick out, and his sneakered foot knocks into your ankle, and it’s certainly not hard by any stretch of the definition but it’s enough to catch you off balance, his toe hooking into the loose fabric around your ankles as he brings his foot back to kick again. One kick did it, though - you tumble to the ground, legs flying out from under you until you land on your ass on the hard floor, your bag slipping off your shoulder, and its contents scatter across the ground.

Fuck. That hurt, more than you’d care to admit, as you brace your elbows behind you to stop your head from knocking into the ground. Your ass hurts and you can see Steve’s leg bracing backwards for another kick, and you push yourself backwards so his foot merely pushes against the air.

You can already see Jim opening his mouth to desperately say sorry when a set of footsteps interrupts his apology - you don’t have to look to your side to see who it is, the smell of expensive cologne wafting before him like an introduction. You practically feel him before you see him.

Your name falls off Harry’s lips entirely too easily, like he’d been looking for you in the overtly small window of space he has before he has to go back on stage - his hair is messy and his skin is sweaty and he bends down next to you with such sentimentality in his eyes - you almost feel like a child again.

“Are y’okay?” Harry questions, and his hand rests on the small of your back and warmth seems to seep through your body from its spawning point, palm moving in circles against your sweater so gently you can tell he’s scared to go much harder. “Wha’ -?”

For his eyes had just landed on the sight in front of you - Jim managed to pull Steve up, the latter clearly coming to his senses at least a little bit, and his eyes narrow at the sight of you on the floor and subsequently widen as he sees Harry next to you.

“Wha’ happened?” And you can hear anger quivering under his voice like boiling water, ready to overflow, and you instinctively reach up to press your hand against his forearm - you do it to your niece all the time when you can tell she’s on the verge of a tantrum and it always works on her - but she is five, and Harry’s twenty years her senior, so, needless to say, the motion doesn’t do much to soothe him. “Fightin’ back here, kickin’ her - you’re s’posed t’be security guards!”

“It’s okay, Harry -”

“S’not okay -”

And then there’s another set of footsteps jogging over to you, and you look up to see Jeff -

“Har, you need to get back out -” but you can see the confusion set into his features as he stands over the scene, eyes flickering to you and Harry on the floor to Jim and Steve, the former having settled the latter into a fairly calm position. The scent of alcohol is strong and you can practically watch as Jeff smells it, his nose crinkling. “Is he drunk?”

“He is drunk, an’ got into a fight wit’ -”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, squeezing Harry’s arm again as you push yourself to stand, attempting not to wince at the pain in your ass as your muscles tense. He’s looking at you like you’ve just been hit by a car instead of having a mild scuffle with a security guard, eyes wide and concerned, and you shake your head at him. “Didn’t get into a fight, Harry - he accidentally kicked me. It’s really fine - you need to go back out, anyway.”

“She’s right,” Jeff insists, reaching down to tug Harry up as his eyes bore into the sight in front of you, Steve slowly calming himself down until he’s simply red in the face and reeking of booze. “Come on, Har - you need to get on.”

But Harry’s already bending down again, grabbing your pen and your notebook and your phone (you can see a crack in the screen that most certainly hadn’t been there just a mere ten minutes ago) and you could nearly laugh at the display he’s putting on, shoving your items back into your back, if Jeff’s demeanor wasn’t bordering on murderous as he drags Harry up again. You reach down and grab your bag, now fully stocked again with all of the items that had clattered out, and you give the tussling security guards one final fleeting look before following Jeff and Harry as they make their way down the hall.

“Y’sure you’re okay?” Harry questions, slowing his pace so you can jog beside him, much to Jeff’s lingering annoyance as he brings his fingers up to rub at the space between his eyes. “Y’should know - tha’ doesn’t usually happen -”

“I get it,” you tell him.

“No, really.” You’ve reached the wings of the stage, and Jeff leaves the pair of you alone to descend on to where the band stands, clearly waiting for the cue to go on. Harry runs a hand through his hair, and he looks oddly exasperated and you wish you could get it through his head that it really isn’t a big deal - “Someone will take care of the guards, okay?”

“Don’t fire them,” you insist, even though you’re sure he has no say in it. “Not Jim, at least.”

“Jim -?”

“The sober one.”

“Oh.” He pauses, dropping his hands to his sides. “I can’t make any promises.”

“Just try.”

“Will do.”

There’s another brief second of silence before you nod towards the stage where he’s needed - the few lowly minutes between the end of the show and the encore has come to an end, and you’re sure people are beginning to wonder if he’s not coming back. “Go on, Har. There’s people waiting for you.”

“M’going!” And he isn’t going, just staring at you with his brows furrowed, and you raise your own with a confused stare. “Are y’gonna come t’any more shows?”

You pause, nibbling on your bottom lip as you contemplate your answer. “Well - maybe. If I need more information.” “You should,” he tells you, and you tilt your head to the side. “Look, I don’t want your only impression of m’shows t’be that they’re violent an’ crazy.”

“I don’t think -”

“Jus’ one more? In two days. I’ll send you th’address. I really want you t’come -”

Before you can process the request Jeff has stepped forward, hooking his arm in Harry’s and practically dragging him towards the stage, and you watch him prance back in front of the audience like it’s his God given purpose and perhaps it is. You’ve never quite met anyone like him, you don’t think, and you’d certainly had a perception of what you’d imagined him to be like based on the insane amount of time you’d spent obsessing over his band when you were younger -

Your mouth feels suddenly dry as you watch him begin, and the music seems to reverberate beneath your skin, and suddenly - without having to think about it much at all, really - you know it won’t take much convincing on his part to get you back for a second night.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles drabble #harry styles one shot #im sure im going to regret starting this as a series and not trying to make it one long piece #but honestly??#im working on another fic right now so i just want the beginnings of this to be out there #i hope u enjoy

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thompsonstessa-moved · 3 years

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'Teraz Rock' Interview - english translation

A well know polish magazine about rock music 'Teraz Rock' (Now Rock) had an interview with Måneskin, and since one of the polish fans on FB shared pictures of the magazine, I decided to translate the interview, because I loved some of the stuff they said there! :D

As always, the whole thing is under read more. ;)

Maneskin is not only ‘Zitti e buoni’ and their winning performance in Rotterdam during the recent finale of Eurovision Song Contest. Italian band fits perfectly into the trend of rock restorers, and at the same time fights with the mental narrowness, prejudices and homophobia. On August 19th they will play In Park Kolibki In Gdynia.

I: You started by playing on the streets of Rome…

V: Unfortunately, there is not a lot of possibilities to debut in Rome. Rome is lacking the appropriate places, there are almost no rock shows. So we couldn’t find a place where we could show ourselves to the people. So we decided to play on the streets to gain the following, the listeners. We did that for good few months. And we had a lot of fun doing that. We think it really helped us, too. Because when you play on the streets, you don’t play for someone who came to listen to you. You need to attract people’s attention. So it was a great lesson on stage skills, to keep the attention. And we played many hours each day, so we also evolved as musicians, as a band.

I: Is it true that you had issues with police? V, D, T, E: Yes, that’s true!! (laugh)

D: It was all because of this old lady, that lived on the first floor, near the place where we used to play. She snitched on us! And sometimes police came and tried to get us to leave.

I: They didn’t arrest you?

D: No, it wasn’t that bad.

V: We were 16 back then. We just went all ‘We swear we won’t do it again!’ (laugh). We hid somewhere for 10 minutes….

D: Went around the block….

V: And played again (laugh).

I: You admited that at first you were shy. How did it happen that you gained so much self-confidence? Do you think one has to be self-confident if they want to show the world that they have something to say in music, in art?

V: It is important, but its more about feeling good with yourself and having fun doing what you do, rather than confronting the world. I think that if you lack confidence, you can’t fully enjoy creating, because you keep thinking ‘What the other will think about it?’. But everyone has to go through this phase. In my opinion, self-confidence is not something you’re born with. Everyone has the moments of hesitation and doubt. I have them too, still. And I think that’s perfectly normal. But you need to learn to appreciate yourself, accept yourself the way you are, because you can’t run away from yourself. We have whole life with ourselves, until the day we die (laugh).

I: Damiano, in one of the interviews you said ‘What we say, can change someone way of thinking’. Do you want to influence your audience? Artist like Chuck Berry or AC/DC just had fun on stage.

D: We also have fun on stage. But now, when we’re well known, we can get to many people, especially young ones. And there’s a chance, that if we say something positive to them, we could help them with their problems, that they can’t fight on their own. For example – like Vic said – we can help them gain more self-confidence and make them feel safer in the world around them. I’ll say this: if as a musician you have something to share with others, do it. But if you just want to have fun playing, that’s OK too.

T: Exactly.

I: Your behaviour on stage is often the reason for homophobic attacks. What would you say to homophobes here in Poland?

V: Fuck them!!!

T: Fuck them!

E: Fuck them, fuck them! (laughing)

D: Maybe not so vulgar.....

T: Fuck them!

D: For sure they should open up more, get rid of prejudices. Make a step forward. Free themselves from the old way of thinking. Let the others live however they want.

I: You debuted in 2017 with EP ‘Chosen’ with two of your own songs and few covers. Even tho you were so young, you already came off as mature musicians with a set style…

V: Thanks, but I don’t think so (laugh).

D: I don’t think we would agree with that.

E: We wouldn’t agree with that, definitely.

V: My bass playing skills definitely left much to be desired.

D: 'Chosen' definitely has its advantages, but… we were still looking for our sound back then. That EP is so much more different than our other albums. But it is a part of our career, our journey, and we don’t regret anything that has to do with it. We had a lot of fun recording it and… its something we did in the past and we’re happy that people loved it.

V: Still love it!

D: Exactly, still love it. Even tho we changed so much since then.

V: The most important and coolest thing about that EP is that even tho we were really young and our skills weren’t as good, you can still hear that we already had charisma and knew what we wanted. And even tho most of the EP consists of known songs, we changed them, played them in our own way, our own style. And that’s really cool because it shows us as a band with their own personality. Of course, now that we listen to that EP, we have lot to complain about…

D: We would do the songs much better.

V: But we like the attitude we already had back then. Even tho we were so young.

E: Our sound really changed since then, but you need to remember that when we we’re recording it, it was already a huge accomplishment for us.

D: That’s true.

I: On ‘Chosen’ Damiano sung in english. On your first album, ‘Il ballo della vita’ from 2018, you had songs in italian as well. Did your songs get more personal because of that?

D: I wouldn’t say that. We started writing songs in italian out of necessity. If you’re an Italian artist and want to reach Italian audience, you need, you have to sing in italian, because not a lot of people speak english there. Now it’s different, we managed to reach international audience, so we can make more songs in english. But we won’t resign from italian, we like to write in italian as well.

I: While recording ‘Il ballo della vita’ you made documentary ‘This Is Maneskin’…

E: They will never forget it! (laugh)

I: You can see there, that during that time you argued a lot.

D: We were young!

I: Did the conflicts threaten your band’s future?

D: No! We were just starting out...

V: Conflicts were inevitable. We were very young and suddenly tabloids were writing about us. And recording an album required a lot of work. And we never experienced that before, we had issues dealing with work in the studio. Because creating and recording together isn’t easy. You need to make many decisions, everyone has their own opinion. Now we’re more mature, we know how to deal with those situations. We can discuss with each other in a constructive way. We were much more childish back then and yeah, we fought sometimes. But even then nothing happened that could threaten our band.

I: ‘Il ballo della vita’ is a concept album of sorts. You have there Marlena, who, like you said, is personification of the concern a lot of you have – that we’re not able to be yourself…

D: The album was supposed to share a message to our fans. We wanted to tell them how important for us is the freedom to be yourself. The ability to love someone, that was chosen by our heart. Freedom to wear the clothes we like. Et cetera, et cetera… We realized that the album would speak to people more, and will be easier to understand, if we gave that idea a name. Of course it’s an idea that we still share to this day, just maybe a bit differently.

I: Your last album, ‘Teatro D’Ira Vol. 1’, you recorded live in studio. Did the way you worked on it was much different from the way you recorded ‘Il ballo della vita’?

D: Oh yeah! It definitely took us less time!

V: Definitely much faster. It was very exciting. We wanted to keep in studio the energy we have when we play concerts, which meant playing together. Which is of course much more difficult than recording separately. But we told to ourselves: let it be, we should at least try. And we loved the result.

D: You know, at first you work on the material in rehearsal room. And you’re full of energy. But then you come into recording studio, where you divide the song into parts, and you loose that power, that magic. So we realized that we should change the way we work, so we could keep the emotions from rehearsals.

I: ‘Teatro D’Ira Vol. 1’ is another concept album. You said its all about the rage, that plays the role of catharsis sometimes. Can you say something more about it?

V: Anger is mostly seen as something negative. And we think that classifying emotions as positive or negative is stupid. Especially in art. When you’re creating, anger can make you give more from yourself, say more. And that’s what our album is about, talking about the world of theatre. We show that something that’s seen as bad, can – especially in the world of art – become something good. And those songs, that are so full of rage, can bring relief to our listeners, which only confirms what I’m trying to say.

I: In the lyrics to 'In nome del padre’ and ‘Vent’anni’ you’re talking about mistakes you made in the past...

D: They are very different tracks, even if they seem to talk about the same topic. Vent’anni is all about our age, because we think it’s a very special moment in your life: you become an adult, but you’re still too young to be considered as such, and they don’t treat you seriously. We wanted to share that with our fans, because maybe they think the same. And In nome del padre is about the battle we had to fight, the mistakes we had to make, to get where we are today. Of course we’re still young, we still make mistakes. But I’m singing about the mistakes from the past, because they made us the way we are today. And I’m saying: don’t be afraid to make mistakes, because they are a part of your journey, your life. What’s important is how you react to those mistakes.

E: It’s not a mistake to make mistakes.

I: The next album, continuation of ‘Teatro D’Ira Vol. 1’ – is it already recorded?

D: No, no.

V: Indeed, our next album will be continuation of ‘Teatro D’Ira Vol. 1’, but we’re still working on it. We don’t want to record it in a hurry, we want to take our time making it.

D: We have a lot of songs already, but we want to have plenty to choose from. We want the album to have the most representative songs, the best ones.

#maneskin #måneskin #måneskin interview #maneskin interview #damiano david #victoria de aneglis #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #*mine

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kyotakumrau · 3 years

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2021.04.06 a talk event at Meguro Rock-May-Kan film screening at Namba Hatch with Kyo and Shinya - PART 1 Report by とあ on twitter (topics are not reported in order things happened, I mostly followed the order they posted, 1st and 2nd session bits are mixed together) my comments go in (*…)

Shinya entered the stage in black hoodie, both hands in his pockets. He also had hands in the pockets when he left the stage. Came with a drink.

Kyo came on stage with his arms crossed. He drank some water soon after sitting down, I thought he started to play with the flyer but he made an airplane from it. Q “To Die. Please tell us the secret of your youth.” Kyo and Shinya face each other and laugh. Kyo: Is it okay to imagine what Die is doing? I said that I quit McDonalds, right? Die also said he hasn’t had McD in years. Fujieda: He also said he doesn’t eat ramen. Kyo: and he doesn’t eat spicy food. Kyo: Now he’s just eating, like tofu? Tofu or soybeans. Shinya: he researched and knows a lot. Even when going on a diet in the past he found a good plan. During the rapid question time they also answered another one for Die “I bought Die’s model guitar. Please tell me how can I get better” when reading Kyo answered “tooth guitar”. I think it was when reading about this guitar? Kyo started laughing then Fujieda started laughing and for a bit they both faced each other laughing.

“Coffee” Kyo: I drink it black. Even at home. Using beans from Starbucks. I drink 1~3 cups a day. Fujieda: Kaldi’s coffee is also great. They have many types. Kyo: If you say that they have many different types you have to try them to compare. You don’t say this even though you didn’t drink them, right? Fujieda: I tried quite a lot. There’s different one for each season. Now they sell sakura blend etc. Kyo: Ah, then it’s fine. If you drank it. Shinya: some years back I bought Nespresso coffee maker but I’ve only used it for 2 weeks. It’s still in my house. Kyo (suddenly looking at Shinya): gimme! (くれ!) Shinya: o, okay. Kyo (turning to Fujieda looking happy): he said okay! Kyo: Then I will give you a coupon to get that right side curl fixed. it caught my eye that looking from here that just the right side of your hair has this weird curl. Shinya: No, it’s not weird... Kyo: But I will give you a voucher to get that fixed.

“What’s your routine before the show?” Both of them don’t have one Kyo: Does anyone have? Fujieda: Toshiya is doing muscle training. Kyo: Ah... and doesn’t Die move around a lot? Shinya: He does. Until the start he’s very restless. Kyo: Right? Even when we all gather one is always going back and forth. “Your favourite takoyaki” Shinya: I don’t care. Even though I’m from Osaka I don’t really eat takoyaki. It is said that every household in Kansai will have a takoyaki machine but we didn’t. In the 20 years I lived there I only had like 5 octopus balls. Kyo: That time when you were wearing that long earring? You only had 5? So what type? Shinya: the one that is crispy outside and soft inside

“A difficult song” Shinya: Rinkaku. Because I need to keep kicking. It’s faster than Zan. The drum is nice but it totally kills my leg. Kyo: DIFFERENT SENSE as I said before. I imagined a dialogue as it’s a heavy song when I made it, but when I didn’t get any response, I ended up having to sing all of it by myself so it’s really tiring. I tried control my breathing when swimming but I can’t. Kyo: So in the end it’s like swimming the whole thing without breathing. I was told by Kaoru to try pointing the mic [at fans], but all I get is ‘eh right now?’ (gestures pointing with his right arm) I get ‘eh here?’ The people in front of me try to respond, but the people on the sides (again points with his right arm) go ’eh? Eh? Here? (agitated) so I gave up. I don’t mind if it’s the wrong pitch, just put your feelings into it.

Kyo: I started playing Monster Hunter. On Switch. Takabayashi: I’m also playing. Kyo: Then let’s play together! (big grin) Takabayashi: Okay. Shinya: I bought it on the day DS got released, but I couldn’t understand the objective of the game after playing for a day so I didn’t feel like playing anymore. Kyo: So you just started playing from zero by yourself? No one helped you saying what to do? Shinya: Yup. Kyo: If you told me I’d have helped you. Shinya: So in the end what happens? What is the goal? Kyo: there’s none. Shinya: What? Kyo: You just continue getting your level up. Shinya: And for how long do you continue to play? Kyo: There are people who continue playing until the next game comes out. Shinya: Woah...

"What weapons you're using in Monster Hunter" Kyo: I'm using a bow. It might seem it's because it's huge, but I can attack from a distance and avoid being found. Make a shot from a distance, if you're found out you can run away. Direct confrontation is scary.

“During the Osaka period what studio did you use?” Kyo: Was it in Umeda? Shinya: Yup. Fujieda: What was the name? Kyo: I don’t remember. Do you? Shinya: Yes. It was M4　www.m4-studio.com Kyo: That’s some memory. Shinya: I booked it. I confirmed the date with 4 of you and called them. We made Karma and Aoi Tsuki there.

“About Oboro teaser” Kyo: Could you see me? I only watched it on my phone so couldn’t tell what was what.

“Rock-May-KanGIG" Shinya: there were many problems... no one around me [to help]. When my ear monitor fell out I had to fix it myself. And I made this rookie mistake of not pressing record on camera... Kyo: We don’t remember things like that. Kyo: Do you remember what you ate a month ago? You don’t right? It’s the same. You might remember that the main dish was shrimp but you won’t remember sides. “About SOGAI in May” Kyo: something that will happen in a month...Do you think about what you will be eating in a month? Fujieda: But I think many fans are looking forward to it. Kyo: I guess, but that’s because they’re going to enjoy the food. From the side of people who will be cooking you only start preparing about a week before, no? Fujieda: So you will start feeling motivated a week before... Kyo: Nope. Fujieda: Shinya, do you think this analogy works? Shinya: After hearing it I think so.

“What are some food combinations that you find just wrong?” (*from other twitter reports the question had example like pineapple in sweet sour pork etc) Shinya: as long as there’s no foods I dislike anything is okay. Kyo: I don’t have any food like that, but but I hate when people mix different sports brands. Wearing adidas with Nike shoes and so on. When I see someone like that I want to tell them ‘could you not?’

“What expensive item have you bought recently?”

Shinya: I’ve already answered this earlier. A camera. The camera itself was 40k and lens was 20k yen. Kyo: What do you use the camera for? Shinya: For recording and so on. Kyo: What kind of [recording]? Shinya: For youtube or Haiiro. Kyo: Isn’t iPhone good enough for that? Kyo: When I’m taking a photo I just pass my iPhone and ask someone. Fujieda: I was given a camera for taking photos, but after about 15 minutes I was told to use iPhone in the end. Kyo: Do you know what was different? Fujieda: I didn’t. Kyo: (*going back to the main question) an expensive item... Nike and Garcons sneakers I guess. They were about 20k yen.　(*Pegasus?) I’m drinking coffee while looking at the sneakers.

“Do you prefer indoor or outdoor festivals?” Shinya: If it’s daytime then indoor. It would be too bright outdoor in daytime. Kyo: I hate insects so indoor. Weren’t there so many insects when you had plants? Fujieda: Speaking of insects, don't they get into your mouth when you ride a bike? Kyo: You ride a bike with an open mouth? Silly kid. Fujieda: Instead of having open mouth, it's like there's suddenly an insect in your mouth, when it crashes into you. Kyo: Riding a bike with an open mouth is silly. Why, are you singing? Fujieda: Sometimes I do, actually. Kyo: If you're singing while riding that's okay, if you just have your mouth open while riding that's silly.

"About SOGAI in May" Shinya: We're working on the setlist, it will be great. Kyo: That's why I don't want you to ask me about a concert in a month. Don't ask me questions about concerts next year. I won't answer.

"What's a good place in Hirakata?" Shinya: Hira pa (Hirakata Park) and TSUTAYA, right? TSUTAYA is where I was born. Fujiefa: Eh? Really? I didn't know. Kyo: if in Tokyo you say Hirapa no one will understand Kyo: Do you know? (looks at Shinya) when you just come in and there's a place with dogs Shinya: Like real dogs? Kyo: Yeah. There are about 20 dogs, but all are so tired. Lifeless as if they were abused. Of course they weren't abused, but it's a place where you can spend some time with dogs but they are so tired, so lifeless and tired that it's almost a shame they are kept there. (*I think he's talking about Doubutsu Hug Hug Town)

"What hotel facilities do you find exciting?" Shinya: ...for example? Fujieda: ehm... Kyo: This is not something exciting, but. You know in a shower? When you don't know if you're supposed to move the handle up or down? Maybe this way? And then when you move it the water suddenly comes out from above! (Shinya nods) Fujieda: That's criminal! Was it hot? Kyo: First water came out, but when I turned the handle the water suddenly poured from above, I got totally soaked. How do you use that? Shinya: there are some places where water comes out in 3 places instead of 2. Fujieda: Criminal! Fujieda: Anything exciting? Shinya: Like? Fujieda: Like a big tv. Shinya: I don't watch TV. Dujieda: That's true, you don't. How about a very good pillow? Shinya: I don't care. Kyo: And the shower [head]! Just from one hole the water goes in a strange direction, there's nothing stuck there, just water, but just this one spot. What's that about? (Shinya continued to nod while smiling)

"To Shinya. What time did you wake up today?" Shinya: Around 1. At night. Fujieda: What time did you go to bed? Shinya: I think about 10pm. Fujieda: You almost didn't sleep at all. Kyo: Aren't you an old man now! (*🤣🤣🤣🤣)

"What toothpaste and toothbrush are you using?" Kyo: Any toothpaste is okay, but I prefer small toothbruses. Because I have very complex teeth. Like a maze. You get lost there. That's why I choose a tothbrush with a small head, has good reach. Shinya: I'm using a toothpaste from overseas with an M, any brush is okay for me. But I use one with water coming out of it. Fujieda: Is it electric? Shinya: Yes. Fujieda: Is it painful? Shinya: Well sometimes it gets a bit bloody. Kyo: You're really into it (laughing) to keep using it even if you're bleeding.

Kyo is watching The world unknown to Matsuko every week (depends on the episode but it's interesting), when finishing the 2nd sessiin event Shinya said 'go straight home and from 8:57 watch The world unknown to Matsuko'. It already started and it seems [dir] appeared there.

"Where do you want to tour besides Tokyo-Nagoya-Osaka?" Shinya: Somewhere we still haven't been to... where was it? Takabayashi: ehm... Shimane, Wakayama, Saga. Shinya: There. Kyo: Kyoto. Kyoto is good. Kyoto is the best. Even now I'd love to [have an event] in Kyoto instead. Kyoto is the best or, I want to become Kyoto.

"What animals do you like in the zoo?" Kyo: ehm... sheep I guess. I want to look at them or hold them. Shinya: Animals you don't see in everyday life like giraffes, elephants or lions.

"What do you like in an amusement park?" Kyo: I guess the haunted house? Yeah, haunted house. It's okay when people try to scare me. It's not scary. I'm laughing all the time. Fujieda: So you can enjoy FujiQ no problem? Kyo: I haven't been, but I think it's fine? I would be fine bringing a sheep with me I guess? Going in while stroking the fluffy sheep. Shinya: Ferris Wheel. Fujieda: How about the thrilling ones? Shinya: I don't like them. Fujieda: So Ferris Wheels for Shinya, understood.

"About shooting Oboro PV" Shinya: It was tough. Kyo: You say that? Say that to ME?? Shinya: Well, you were shooting naked. The green stuff got all over my clothes and cleaning that took ages. Kyo: Ah, I guess. But you could've gotten it dry cleaned, no? Shinya: It was a fabric that cannot be dry cleaned. I couldn't remove it in the end so I gave it to Fujieda. Kyo: You did? You got it? Fujieda: Yeah, I passed it to the person who designed the costume. Kyo: I see... Shinya: And the floor was very cold. Kyo: You say that?!?!?! Fujieda: Were you okay, Kyo? Kyo: Yeah... I'm a pro in the end. Fujieda: Oh (claps) Kyo: Are you mocking me? Looking down on me? Fujieda: No! Not at all! I clapped because I think that's great! Kyo: No, you're defnitely looking down on me. It's the same as the 'whats your salary like?' 'this much' 'oh'.

tbc

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #shinya #爆音会 #talk event #namba hatch #translation

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a3shithole · 3 years

Note

can I request headcanons of spring troupe (or any troupe) with an idol!s/o? thanks in advance!

Ooh! This should be interesting and kinda difficult, since Japanese idol culture when it comes to love life is kinda... y'know (´∀｀；)

I'll write headcanons for spring troupe for now! Spring Troupe with an idol!s/o! I'm more confident and comfortable on doing female idol since I used to be a Wota (an extreme one, if I'm being honest 💦), so reader will use feminine pronouns, sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. Feel free to request other troupes if you like this one. Have a nice day! 🌻

Sakuya

- Before you two date each other, you were already a fan of Mankai. You accidentally saw a poster of Romeo and Julius and decided to go watch the play. And then you saw Romeo. He became your favorite actor. He shines the brightest on stage and you just can't help but fall for him. You always disguise yourself, not wanting to divert the attention of the troupe to you when you go to Mankai plays. You always leave a gift for Sakuya on the closing night

- He can't believe he got a fan, on his very first play nonetheless! He keeps all of your gifts, along with the fan letter you include because it motivates him. He really wants to know who you are and thank you personally for your endless support

- One day, he saw Kazunari and Taichi watching an interview of an upcoming popular idol group in the living room. It was your group. It was showing a segment of your group doing a punishment mini-game. You are scribbling an answer on your paper and show it to the screen with a charming giggles

- That's when Sakuya almost yelped in surprise. He recognizes that hand-writing. The curve and how you put decorations around it. He felt like Kazunari and Taichi can hear his heartbeat, since the two of them looking at him with concern

- He excuses himself to his bedroom to do his homework, now feeling bashful knowing someone like you would be a fan of his

- He is now curious about you. He found your instablam and almost shrieked when he saw you holding one of the gift that is now in his possession. The comments flooded with who is that gift for or from

- He is confident that it is you the one who's been supporting him. He had the urge to thank you face by face

- So on closing night, he decided to sneakily hide and wait for you to drop your gift on the front table people usually put their gift. Each table labeled with the actors that are playing tonight

- It's almost time for the plays to begin and he almost gives up and goes back to backstage when someone with a hoodie and sunglasses arrives and drops a gift on the table with 'Sakuma Sakuya' labeled on it. He recognizes the cover letter you always use and finally realize it is really you behind those sunglasses, confirming his suspicion

- "S-She is so pretty!"

- Little did he realize, he said that out loud and not just in his thought. Surprising both you and Sakuya himself. He apologizes for creeping on you and explaining himself

- You were embarrassed that he knows who you are. But he is genuinely thanking you for your support and would like to know you better. And with that usual bright smile of his, you felt like you are falling for him

Masumi

- It is a total surprise for the Spring Troupe to hear Masumi listening to cheery idol songs. Is it something the Director likes? No, they know Izumi is not into that type of music

- He even starts hanging some posters of a certain girl that appeared to be an idol, on his bedside. Tsuzuru is kinda scared to see this change

- They also notice that he acts differently. He's less cold than he usually is. And most importantly, he didn't cling to Izumi like he usually does. And Izumi seems to be more close and more sister-like towards him. Leaving the entire company baffled. Did they miss a note somewhere?

- So the entire Spring Troupe decided to investigate and follow their fellow dark-haired friend around for some days

- And that's how they all ended up at an underground idol concert. Citron describing what's an underground idol so detailed to Sakuya is quite a bizarre sight

- "Can't believe this is what puberty does to oneself."

- "Itaru-san, now is not the time to joke around!"

- Then that's when they saw Masumi. With a girl that was just on the stage before. Dressed in cute bright colors. He looks so happy, chatting with you. And so does you

- And with that, Spring Troupe silently agrees to help Masumi and you to be with each other. In a healthier way. Which, Masumi accept, surprising them

- They helped him prepare himself for a date with you. Where the date should be. How he should confess his feelings. All of that cutesy stuff

- It took the entire Spring Troupe and a long tiring explanation from Tsuzuru to stop Masumi to get a wedding ring to give to you. With the help of Tsumugi, they get him a bouquet of flowers that Masumi can give to you. Yuki even helped Masumi dressed up

- Sakuya and Citron cheered and wish him good luck, Tsuzuru gave him a soft pat on his back, while Itaru and Chikage just gave a small thumbs up for their friend

- And there goes Masumi, going on a date

- You were flattered to receive the flowers from him and put them on a vase before you two went onto your date

- He brings you to a zoo. It was fun walking around, looking at animals while holding each other's hands. When it's the closing hour, he confesses how he felt towards you, with his face slightly flushed

- When he came back home, the Spring Troupe didn't need to ask him how the date was. It was answered clearly with his bright smile plastered on his face

Tsuzuru

- He met you when he was doing his part-time job as a barista. It was an embarrassing first impression. From Tsuzuru's point of view, that is

- You walk in to order something to drink while you wait for your manager to pick you up. But when your gaze met each other, he just stood still. In a daze. Staring at you. He was mesmerized by how beautiful you are. He finally snapped from his daydream when you waved your hand in front of him. He profusely apologizes with a red face and asked for your order again

- You're amused by his demeanor, you found him cute. So that's how you ended up being a regular on this cafe, just to met him

- Tsuzuru felt like he's about to combust when one day you casually introduce yourself and ask for his name

- When your manager taps your shoulder to go, you leave a piece of paper for him. Tsuzuru felt like he can die in peace when he realized you gave him your LIME ID

- He was about to message you when he's back at the dorm, until his eyes landed on a magazine, almost choked on his own spit when he saw YOU with some girls in a cute dress. "Sensational Idol Group This Year!" imprinted largely on the cover. He felt a bit intimidated. What if he's intruding on you while you're busy? But a part of him really wants to talk to you and want to know you. He realizes it was love at first sight for him

- He already typed something on his screen. All he needs to do is click the 'send' button. He's been staring at it for half an hour. Then someone surprised him, making him drop his phone. To say that he is in absolute horror when he realized the message was delivered was an understatement

- When you see that you are typing back to him, he closed his app. Heart beating fast. And then his phone vibrates. He cautiously opens his phone, to see a reply from you. He immediately replies

- You two text almost every day. Getting to know each other, what he does for a living, telling what happened at your work, his brothers... The topics keep flowing naturally. When he told you that he found out you are an idol is so funny to you

- You asked him if he wants to go on a date with you. You're a bit concerned if you were a bit too straightforward because he didn't reply for almost an hour. He finally replied with a simple 'sure'. The truth is he is freaking out with joy on the other side

- It was a nice date. You two watched a movie and ate lunch at a cozy desolate restaurant. He insists on escorting you back home

- You thanked him for today. When you're about to enter your home, he finally musters up his courage and confesses his feelings to you. You turn yourself back to him with a grin, and happily reciprocate his feeling

Citron

- It's kinda a funny accident that you and Citron ended up dating each other

- You got a day off and your manager let you do whatever you want to do, so you decided to take a stroll. That's when you saw a guy doing a... street act? He's reciting a line while doing wonky dance moves, managing to grab people's attention on the street. You finally recognize the dance. You saw it every day, your fans made that specific dance just for you after all

- You did not realize that people were starting to notice you there. An excited scream from an audience alerting everyone around you, and now all attention is on you

- You awkwardly smile at them, and they are now surrounding you. Asking for an autograph, a selfie, or even a handshake

- You felt a hand grab you, and it guides you out of the crowds. You now ended up in a secluded alley. It's the guy that was dancing just now. He doesn't look Japanese, so when he finally asks if you are okay in Japanese, you are relieved. You tell him you're okay and thanked him for helping you out from the situation

- He realized he hasn't introduced himself properly. Citron is his name. He seems like a nice person, so you decided to introduce him with your real identity. You're not surprised that he recognizes your name

- He then starts cheerfully rambling about someone in his theatre company who is quite popular like you, and... start advertising? You kinda didn't get what he said with his sloppy Japanese, but it's endearing to see how passionate he is talking about his theatre company

- He offered you a spare ticket to watch his upcoming plays, and before you could decline his kind gesture, he's already gone. Leaving you with a ticket in hand. You stared at the ticket with Mankai Company imprinted on it. It's not that far from here and you have a holiday on that day. So you why not?

- You came and watched the play. Now with proper disguise, not wanting to repeat the same mistake twice. You are pleasantly surprised watching how different he look on stage, and how different he sound

- When the show ends, he approaches you, complimenting him and thanking him for giving you a free ticket. He's a nice company to be with, so when he invites you to join the closing night party, you agree to it

- When you show up to the Mankai dormitory, everyone is so welcoming to you, some can't believe that you know Citron of all people. You and Citron become really close after that

- You always come to his plays and he always comes to your shows, sometimes with someone from Mankai. Or even the entire company

- One day he gave you a box of dates*. On valentine's day. You thought he mistook it as chocolate, but with a serious expression, he then explains to you that it is a tradition from his country to give these to someone you love. You are flustered to hear his... confession. But you accept it gladly

Itaru

- Before you two were dating, he was your number one fan. All of your merch? He has an altar full of it. Your live shows? He never misses one. Your appearance in an obscure rhythm game? You bet he will whale his way to get that exclusive card of your character just to be able to hear your voice lines of "Welcome home, Producer!"

- "Chigasaki, did you sleep...?"

- "No, and I refuse to do so until I get her card. Now leave, I'm busy here."

- "But today is Monday."

- "...Can you tell the boss that I'm si--" "No."

- The fact that you two ended up dating each other is a dream come true for Itaru. You are as angelic as your idol persona appears to be. Sure, you have a side you never show as an idol, but that shows you are just a human like him. And that just make him love you even more

- You two met through work. Itaru's company was doing a promotional campaign and he was the one assigned to be the head of the project. He was irritated because it will affect his gaming time and his time fanboying over you

- But when you show up at the meeting to discuss the promotional campaign, he almost screams. The idol that he adores so much is in front of him! In a casual dress and polite smile threw to him

- It took so much for him to stay in his business persona. He saw you on your live shows. But to be able to sit in front of you? God. You are so beautiful up close, he can't help it. It is a miracle that he stayed in character the whole meeting. When he's back to the dorm, he gushes himself to Banri, Sakuya, and Citron that are happened to be in the living room

- "Ooh! You met a gravure* idol?"

- "The hell you know gravure from? She's from an idol group. Not gravure."

- "...what's gravu--" "I will stop you right there, Sakuya."

- You were charmed with his princely persona. You two ended up getting close with each other and even staying in contact after the promotional campaign is over. He asked you to a fancy dinner one day, you happily accepted. He dressed up so nicely, you can't help but stare at him the whole night. At the end of the date, he confesses to you about his feeling, and you accept his feeling

- When you find his secret side, you find it really adorable, while he got extremely flustered. He's trying his best to explain why he has an altar filled with your merch, but you just hush him down, telling him that you are flattered that you are his oshi*. You even tell him that he0 can secretly be on backstage on your next lie show. Knowing you don't mind this side of him, he took a mental note that you are the one for him

- He is still your number one fan, even after you two date each other. He sometimes sent you a fan cam of you making weird faces that he found on the internet and jokingly said "this u?"

Chikage

- It is a mystery how you two ended up dating each other. Whenever someone asks Chikage about it, no one can tell if he's telling the truth or his usual lie

- "Ah, yeah. We met each other when my company was using her group for promotional purposes."

- "Hold on Senpai, our company never did a promotional campaign...?"

- When people from Mankai asked you how you two met, you laughed and said, "He kidnapped me."

- Perhaps Chikage's habit of lying rubbing onto you. The highschooler of Mankai is playing detective and trying to solve this mystery. Will they find out the truth? Who knows

- He is not fond of showing his private life, which benefits both of you, considering both of your work. It will be a huge scandal if people found you are in a relationship. With that, Chikage takes extra steps and makes sure to erase traces of any kind of hint that you are in a relationship. Theory? Gossip? No one able to see it because it mysteriously disappears as soon as it touches the interweb

- He has zero interest in idols, and found the culture around it weird, but he is still supportive of you being one

- "Oh! I'm surprised you have this magazine! There's my interview in it!"

- He got his way to make sure you are safe when you are doing meet and greet. Idol fans, especially female idols can be extreme at times, and he will not allow you to get hurt

- When you come back from your tour, you always bring Chikage local spices that you got from your tour. It's a tradition at this point

- "I found a lot of spices in Korea!"

- "Nice. Did you get anything special from there?"

- "Yup! I got this thing from a fan! Apparently, it's really popular because of how spicy it is! It's uhhh... Samyang*? We can try it together!"

- You ended up crying yourself out from how spicy the instant noodle is. You curse on him when you saw him casually put more spice in it

- From an outside perspective, Chikage seems to be okay with you often going on tour and the two of you can't spend a lot of time together. Chikage himself often have a business trip so he respects your dedication

- But when he starts missing you, he always tries to busy himself with work. Even if it's mundane stuff like hanging out with the Spice Club more or the Spring Troupe. Which, only Hisoka notices

- "I know you are thinking about her. Just go call her if you miss her, April."

- "I'll give you marshmallow to shut you up."

*dates: small sweet fruits from dates palm

*gravure: female model on magazines marketed to men

*oshi: term for someone you support/fan of

*samyang: a brand of spicy instant noodle from Korea

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natromanxoff · 3 years

Text

Queen live at Oakland Coliseum Arena in Oakland, CA, USA - September 7, 1982 (Part-1)

(x)

The band are in great form tonight, full of vitality and passion. Only the intro of Rock It is performed from now onward. When the vocal is expected to re-enter after the rhythm section joins in, the band jump into the first verse of the fast We Will Rock You. John Deacon's bass solo after the second chorus is aggressive, and overall the band are clearly happy to be playing the longer version of the song again - although they do have a bit of trouble getting out of the middle section together, but they recover well. Freddie offers a great version of Play The Game. After the song, he has a word with the enthusiastic audience. "So here we are, back again in Oakland after a long time. Has everybody been keeping okay since we've been away?" Naturally everyone says "yeah", and Freddie replies, "Bullshit!" He continues, "Anyway, we have a lot of new songs for you since we were here last, and this next one is a song for all the girls here tonight, you know what I mean? The real girls. If you've got tits or if you haven't got tits it don't matter." The girls quickly stop cheering as Freddie is just trying too hard when he actually doesn't have to. He attempts to recover, "You just don't understand English. It doesn't matter. This is a Roger Taylor composition [the mention of Roger's name gets the girls screaming again] entitled Calling All Girls." Just before the first chorus of the song, Freddie adlibs, "I've got a message for you babe!" After the second chorus, following "take a message of love for all to hear," he adds to the energy with a few spontaneous words: "Have you got it? Can you hear it? Can you feel it?" Tonight is the first known performance of the Hot Space rocker Put Out The Fire, segueing from the vocal improv of Now I'm Here (Freddie doesn't have the lyrics perfected yet, which suggests it hasn't been performed too many times - fan club magazines from the period say the song was performed as a standalone piece earlier in the tour). After the second chorus, the band seamlessly jump into Dragon Attack. The combination of these three songs seems to recall the medley idea that had been dropped in 1981. After Now I'm Here, Freddie challenges the audience to one of his usual vocal duels. For the first time, he is heard singing "Dee do de de", something that would become part of the lyrics of "Living On My Own" off his first solo album in 1985. Shortly thereafter, after an "alright" that's held for a few seconds, he shouts, "You can do it!" in encouragement, after which he says, "Not bad! It's amazing what you will do if you're pushed." He really takes a liking to this audience. During the next song, Save Me, instead of singing the line "I love you 'til I die," he speaks the words "I love ya", and during the three quiet beats leading into the first chorus, he quickly and poignantly adds, "don't forget it!" Freddie once again dedicates Fat Bottomed Girls to "people who like fucking a lot." In the second verse of Crazy Little Thing Called Love, he modifies a lyric to say "she knows how to fuck and roll." One can draw their own conclusions as to where Freddie Mercury's mind was at on this tour. He turns in a very passionate version of Bohemian Rhapsody (despite not being in full voice by the end of the show), where everything seems to come home to him. Only he knew what the song really meant, but plenty have suggested that the proverbial man being killed in the first verse as told to his mother is his former self that had not yet come to terms with his sexuality. A clash of worlds in 1982, if that's the case. Matt Granz (also with a story from San Francisco '77) fondly shares his memories of this show here:

“This photo is from Queen's last Bay area show ever with Freddie Mercury. With the new direction that they took with the album "The Game" Brian May stated that Queen had "gained the world, but lost America". I think that after they played a Los Angeles gig or two after this particular show that they never did come back to the US. That is truly sad since they were one of the most charismatic of all rock groups to ever play on a stage. This concert was no exception! This photo was taken during Brian's echo solo. The three lights backlighting Brian belonged to one of two manned light pods that followed him around the stage. It was a spectacular effect!

The friend I went to the concert with (who's name I can't even begin to recall) took his SLR 35mm and I took a pocket fixed focus... after seeing me lament over the bad quality of my images he took mercy on me and sold me this memory as an 8x10 B&W Glossy that I kept secured in a folder... and just recently rediscovered and decided to digitize these many years later. My own pics from the concert all came out underexposed... drat! His SLR had some great lenses and he had his own darkroom. He also had great access to many good spots to shoot from.

By the way… remember the days when you didn't need a press badge to bring a camera to a concert? What happened??? Lawyers, I'll tell ya... Lawyers.

The story behind the Flying V being utilized was that at the very onset of his Echo solo, Brian busted a string on the "Red Special". He waked backstage and then shortly reappeared with this guitar. The sound was quite different. After the solo was done fifteen minutes later, he took back his own guitar and proceeded to use it for the rest of the show. It was pretty unusual to see him playing this and (besides the Tele he plays on Crazy Little Thing Called Love for the songs' first solo) have not seen him play another electric besides his main axe that he and his father made.

I was pretty poor at the time, but I liked this photo enough to buy it because of the before mentioned spectacular lighting and the fact that Brian is playing a Flying V.

Though I was not a fan of The Game, this concert was superb! I came to see Brian (being a guitarist myself) and was amazed at how distracted I was by the rest of the band. They were flawless that night and the floor seats I snuck into... 20 rows from the stage... provided the perfect viewing experience. The light show was also the best I had ever seen as well, in that it didn't distract from the music or musicians but rather pulsated perfectly with the beats and saturated the stage with great color combinations.

Freddie, Brian, Roger & John all had the whole auditorium held by the throat from the very start of the show till the last fading notes of "God Save the Queen". Sheer Excellence!” Most of the photos were taken by Sean Trend. A few of the pictures show Brian with the Gibson Flying V, as he had played in East Rutherford last month. But this time he begins his solo with the Flying V, as confirmed by someone who attended the show. Brian, in disbelief, later commented on this: http://www.brianmay.com

“Well, I'm shocked. I definitely would have sworn that I never played a solo live with a Flying V. I played around with them, but mainly at home, except for one video appearance for "Princes of the Universe" in which I'm obviously not really playing!!!

Cheers Bri”

(x)

Part-2

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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flightfoot · 3 years

Text

Secrets, Lies, and Hope

AO3 Thanks to pjomlb23 for betaing! ----

Alya hummed to herself as she walked, looking at the newest footage some helpful Parisians had sent her of the latest akuma fight.

Ladybug almost getting hit by the latest akuma, Chat Noir knocking her out of the way just in time, Ladybug casting her Lucky Charm, and the two of them using their superb teamwork to take out the villain - nothing unusual.

Yet everything had changed.

Because that wasn’t just Ladybug - superhero of Paris, her idol, and part-time teammate. It was also Marinette, rising fashion designer, lovestruck teen, and her full-time best friend.

The revelation of Ladybug’s identity and the true source of Marinette’s troubles hadn’t been as much of a surprise as she was expecting. She’d been involved with Ladybug right from the get-go, filming their very first akuma fight against Stoneheart. Over the course of Hawkmoth's reign of terror she’d gotten to know Ladybug as more than a superhero to film from afar, but as a good friend, one who was kind, caring, and clever.

As for Marinette… well, she’d been involved in many of her crazy schemes. Heck, she helped Marinette come up with Operation Secret Garden! Her taking those same schemes to akuma fights wasn’t that much of a stretch.

Her leadership skills as Ladybug weren’t a shocker either. With how calm and collected she’d been during the Darkblade fight, organizing the rest of the class to try to keep them safe, she’d demonstrated those in spades.

Once Marinette confessed, it all came together.

What could she do but give her friend - her friend twice-over in fact - a hug?

After that they’d talked for awhile, Marinette finally getting everything off her chest, for real this time, as well as telling her about some Guardian-related things she hadn’t known about before.

Her theory about there even BEING Guardians was totally correct! Point one for Alya!

She winced. ...And take away a score for hastily posting her theories on the Ladyblog, where anyone - including Hawkmoth - could read them.

At least now she could tell Ladybug about her theories directly, and who knew - maybe even help her unmask mister Butterfly Butt! She’d already uncovered one Miraculous wielder after all. (Though she doubted Hawkmoth was quite as obviously… well, HAWKMOTH in his civilian life, as Carapace was obviously Nino).

*bump*

“OW!”

“OOOPH!”

Alya collided with someone, getting knocked to the ground. She shook her head, dazed.

When she looked up, a sheathed fencing foil pointed at her face.

Kagami’s eyes widened as she registered Alya’s face, and that she was not a threat. Immediately she put away her foil. “I am sorry, Alya,” she said, turning away from her briskly.

Alya frowned. Kagami could be pretty standoffish, but she’d been opening up more as she spent time around other kids - especially Adrien.

But now, she seemed as cold and detached as her initial Ice Queen reputation had suggested.

Something was definitely wrong.

“Kagami!”

She stopped, turning her head slightly. “What is it?”

Alya walked over to her. “I just wanted to talk. We’ve seen each other on-and-off and I’d like to get to know you better.”

Kagami turned away, facing forward, pointedly not looking at her. “I am not looking for any more friends.”

She said that last word harshly, venomously.

“Everyone needs friends,” Alya told her gently.

Kagami shook her head. “Not me. Mother was right. It only leads to disappointment - and even more when you try to become lovers”.

Oh.

Marinette was not the only girl suffering from a broken heart it seemed.

“Did something happen with Adrien?” Alya guessed. She hadn’t heard anything about Kagami and Adrien dating, but then again, she hadn’t known that Luka and Marinette were together either until Luka showed up at Marinette’s house during that call.

Were all her friends dating on the down-low?

Kagami sat down on a nearby bench, staring down at her feet. “I knew he had reservations. He’s pulled away from me before, saying he wasn’t ready yet.”

She clenched her skirt, her fingers tightening. “If he didn’t want to spend time with me - if he’d rather be somewhere else - he could have just told me so. Should have told me, instead of just feeding me LIES!”

Alya blinked, taken aback by Kagami’s sudden outburst. “Lies? About?”

That explained Kagami’s akumatization the other day at least. Multiple akumas on the same day weren’t exactly unknown, but two of them being her peers was more unusual - usually it was just Mr. Pigeon and some other random Parisian.

She knew full well why Luka was akumatized of course, but hadn’t had the time or mental capacity to dive into Kagami’s akumatization, though she’d had people send info about it to the Ladyblog. She’d been a little too busy trying to puzzle out why Marinette hadn’t told her about the breakup with Luka, and then reassembling her entire worldview after that earth-shattering conversation where Marinette confessed her secret.

“Mother doesn’t like me associating with other teens for too long. She doesn’t think it’s productive. But I’d sneak around, rearrange schedules, lie so that Adrien and I could spend more time together than normally allowed, could do things besides simply fencing. We’d meet up early so we could hang out in the art room, have our drivers ‘happen’ to sync up cars for a kiss, even sneak out for ice cream! But he ditched me. Constantly. Making up excuses. Not even trying to look at me as he left!” Her voice cracked.

Alya tilted her head. “That doesn’t make sense,” she said slowly, puzzling out Kagami’s words. “Adrien loves spending time with people.”

Kagami turned away. “Not with me it seems. He dropped some bracelet while we were on the Couffaine’s houseboat. I picked it up, intending to return it to him later… after a small test.”

Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “Next time I saw him, I asked whether he’d found what he was looking for. He said yes.”

Kagami’s teeth ground. “A moment later he realized it wasn’t on him, and he claimed he must’ve lost it again. If I hadn’t been holding the object in his hand, I would have believed him - he’s that good a liar.”

That- that didn’t fit with the Adrien she knew. But she didn’t think Kagami was lying either.

“Do you have any idea why he’d lie?”

Kagami shook her head. “I thought about him cheating, I know he has a crush on another girl, but-”

“WHAT?!”

Marinette had told her about the ride back from the museum, how Adrien had talked about the “girl he loved”. They’d both assumed that was Kagami.

But Adrien hadn’t actually said the girl’s name.

Was there someone else in Adrien’s life?

Kagami raised an eyebrow. “Is it really such a surprise? Granted I thought it was Marinette for awhile, what with the way he looks at her-”

Oh, Alya knew. She’d seen the doe eyes Adrien sent at Marinette anytime she did… well, anything really, and that boy needed only the slightest prompting to start waxing lyrical about how amazing Marinette was.

“-but it quickly became apparent that Adrien had never asked Marinette out, and he had asked out this other girl, so it couldn’t be her,” Kagami concluded.

Alya furrowed her brow. “A girl that even Marinette doesn’t know about?” she wondered out loud. “How is that even possible? Heck, even Nino doesn’t know her!”

Adrien didn’t exactly get a lot of opportunities to talk to other kids - his father made sure of that. And he didn’t seem the type to fall for someone just based on their looks and two minutes of conversation, at least not long-term.

“I don’t think he was actually cheating,” Kagami said. “He may be a liar, but I couldn’t see him doing that. I still get this sense of sincerity from him, even after that. He sees others as people, and is too empathetic for me to believe he’d do that. I got the sense that he didn’t want to lie, even if he was good at it.”

Alya nodded. “Yeah, I can’t see Adrien doing that. Not that I could see him lying either, but… something just seems off.”

She’d considered that she’d might have totally misjudged what type of person Adrien was in the past, when ‘Adrien’ sent back a nasty video reply on the anniversary of his mother’s death.

The evidence was right there in front of her, after all.

But she’d been wrong that day. Adrien had been the kind of person he’d been shown to be over the past few months, was kind, sincere, and loved his friends.

So if she assumed that Adrien had good intentions, that he wasn’t being awful to Kagami, that he had a good reason for always needing to ditch and make up excuses-

WAIT.

She gripped Kagami’s shoulders. “When exactly did he need to ditch? Like, what times?” she said urgently.

Kagami narrowed her eyes, giving Alya a searching look. “It changed from day to day, it was never consistent.”

“Then how about that last day you two were together? When exactly did he leave?”

Kagami hummed for a moment. “I’m not sure of the exact clock time, but… well, you saw him arrive late to that Kitty Section concert. Just a few minutes after we left the boat, we were talking, but he seemed distracted. He kept on looking behind me. I actually checked myself, but I didn’t see anything there. That’s when he made up the lie about the bracelet and raced off.”

Adrien arrived late to the Kitty Section concert… the same one Marinette was late to.

Adrien had to beat a hasty retreat from Kagami a few minutes after he’d left the Couffaine’s houseboat… which was about the time Truth showed up.

Ladybug had turned out to be Alya’s best friend. What were the chances that Chat Noir was also someone she knew?

“Are you going to tell me what you figured out?” Kagami asked her flatly.

Alya blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. “Figured out? Figured what out?”

“Don’t lie.” Kagami said harshly. “I’ve endured enough of that already.”

Alya winced. “Ok, yes, I figured something out. At least I think I did. I haven’t confirmed it, and I’m not sure I’m going to. If I’m right, then Adrien had to lie and ditch and make up those excuses, and couldn’t tell anyone safely. That’s why I’m not sure about digging further. Me knowing would be dangerous too.”

Kagami’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is he in danger?”

Alya mulled that over. “...Sort of? Yes.” Noticing Kagami putting her hand on the hilt of her blade, she hastily added, “but it’s not a danger you can save him from!”

“Do not underestimate me,” Kagami said, her voice low and dangerous.

Considering that Kagami tried to assault Desperada with a mic stand as soon as she was in range, she might have a point.

“He’s ok for now,” Alya tried to assure her. “He has some solid backup.”

“And that doesn’t include me?” Kagami asked.

Well, actually, it does sometimes, Alya wanted to say. But that would be too much of a giveaway.

Was this what Marinette felt like all those times she had to conceal her Ladybug knowledge? It sucked.

Kagami pulled away. “I can’t do this. I already had one person keeping secrets from me. I don’t need another.”

As Kagami walked away, Alya reached out a hand… and retracted it.

She was right. Kagami had been hurt enough by secrets and lies. As much as Alya would love to be totally honest with Kagami, to bring her into the loop… she just couldn’t. It was too dangerous and not her call anyway.

But Kagami needed someone. She was more alone than anyone else she knew, especially since her relationship with Adrien ended.

Hm…

Maybe Kagami couldn’t spend that much time with others as Kagami...

But Ryuuko was a different story.

And if Marinette could bring back Rena Rouge even after having her identity exposed… why not? At least getting her occasionally.

Alya turned to head towards the bakery.

Hopefully soon, the dragon would rejoin the cat and ladybug in protecting Paris, getting to spend time with her friends once again.

This time, at least getting to know why there were secrets between them, even if those secrets had to remain.

#Alya cesaire #kagami tsurugi #ml fanfic #Miraculous ladybug #secrets lies and hope #gang of secrets #ml spoilers

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Quarter-Century

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mild heavy petting, but this is pretty tame, oh & lots of fluff, likely enough to kill someone, so watch out for that, k?

What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do.

Words: 3754

Notes: if i call this a drabble are y’all gonna get mad at me?

Quarter-Century quar·ter-cen·tu·ry /ˈkwôrdər/ - /ˈsen(t)SH(ə)rē/ noun a period of 25 years

Twenty-five.

It’s always spoken about like it’s some kind of milestone. Eh, it’s just another year, Kiyoomi thinks, tugging his sweaty shirt off of his back and walking toward the MSBY team dressing room, there’s nothing special about it.

He’d woken up at 5:25, taken his first shower, kissed your sleeping form absentmindedly on the cheek before he left the bedroom, and jogged the three miles to the training facility.

He’d worked on his digs, on his jump float, and looked over the drills. The team had two practice games and had huddled up for the review at the end, the same as always. As Kiyoomi made his way out of the locker room Atsumu and Bokuto had both clapped him on the back, joking about the fleeting joys of ‘youth,’ and congratulating him on his performance on the court before they all went their separate ways, each gliding along their own trajectory.

No, there’s nothing special about birthdays.

You’re not back from work when he gets home, so Kiyoomi pads around the empty apartment, flitting from room to room, disjointedly flipping on lights and switching them back off seconds later. It’s like he can’t make up his mind. Should he take a nap? He could sleep off these uncharacteristic and frustrating jitters that keep coursing through him. No, he reconsiders naps just make him groggy and irritable. What else?

He’s showered twice today, there’s no need for another, and it looks like you’d cleaned up the living room and kitchen before you’d left for the day, so there’s nothing for him to clean either. Ugh, what’s with this restlessness?

There are old matches that he can watch, already primed and loaded onto his laptop, but it’s charging in the bedroom, likely tucked under some of your leaflets and various heapings of paperwork. It’d be a pain to move everything.

Eh, he could start a puzzle, maybe flip through some channels, see what’s on TV, and there’s that book that you’d told him he should check out, he’s weeks behind on starting that, but it’s in the bedroom too, and–

Damn it. It feels like he’s stuck in some kind of loop.

He flops down on the couch, tipping his dark head back, obsidian curls fanning around his forehead as he stares up at the ceiling. What’s with him today? It’s just another day. After all, birthdays don’t matter when you’re this old, right? It’s not like he’s a kid. He doesn’t need a party, doesn’t really want one either. Besides, you’ve likely got something planned, you always do. He smiles at that thought, running his hands through his hair and letting out a deep exhale. It’ll be alright, he reasons, you’ll get back and he’ll shake himself out of this funk, and then maybe he can–

The sudden scrape of the lock turning makes him jump, and he pops his head up just as you step through the door, a smattering of canvas bags tucked under your coiled hands. You spot him as you tap the door closed, a broad grin lighting up your face. “Hey there!” you call out, stepping toward the kitchen to deposit your purchases. “Did you just get home? Practice go okay?”

“It went well,” Kiyoomi replies, hunching forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That reminds me, the next match is this weekend, you still planning on going?”

“Yeah!” you confirm, tucking a few things into the fridge before you pace over to his seated figure. “It’s right before the playoffs start, so it’ll likely be one of the last ones I can get a good seat to. Once you guys get in those end of season bouts it gets...Hey, you sure you’re alright? You look a little, I don’t know, downcast?” You kneel in front of him, your hands reaching, stroking gently over his hair and down his jaw.

“I’m fine. Feel a little...off...is all. Happens.”

“Off?” you question, bright eyes finally catching his onyx. “Well, we can’t have that. Not today!”

“Hmph, it’s just a Saturday,” Kiyoomi huffs, catching your wrists and lowering your hands from his face.

“Yes,” you continue, watching as he distractedly toys with your hands, trailing his thumbs over your fingers and flipping your palms this way and that within his hold. “It’s also a Saturday where I’ve played the role of good– no great, girlfriend and got us some tickets! Surprise!”

“Tickets?” he echoes, his head cocking to the side as he lifts his gaze back to yours. “To what? If it’s some kinda concert, not to be an ass, but I don’t really want to go to a–”

“Really?” you deadpan, arching an eyebrow at his morose expression. “You think, after two years of dating, that I’d take you to a concert? You? Kiyoomi Sakusa, the man who is pretty much allergic to crowds, who completely dipped out of a shoe store once because there were five people in the ‘athletic wear’ section, who abhors the mere thought of tight spaces and groups of twenty or more, thought that I, his loving partner, decided to put some some color into his living nightmares, and on his birthday no less, by bringing him to a concert?”

Kiyoomi clicks his tongue and exhales a tight laugh. “When you put it that way, no. But on the off chance that you did, and you’re trying to bluff your way out of the situation by over elaborating your reasons for not bringing me, well…I’m gonna have to decline the gift.”

You narrow your eyes at his impassive face and purse your lips. “And to think, I was gonna come over here and give you a kiss and everything.”

“You’ll still give me one,” Kiyoomi smarts, a coquettish smirk lifting his lips when you openly scoff at him. “So, out with it, what are the tickets to?”

“Oh? Now you wanna know? Suddenly you’re curious. Well you can hold on to that buddy, cuz’ I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Why should I?”

“It’s my birthday,” he intones simply, broad palms already sliding up your arms, pulling you closer. You smell nice, Kiyoomi thinks, lips barely missing your own as you twist playfully away from him.

“Pfft, what happened to ‘it’s just a Saturday?’” you tease, following his insistent tugs, one knee pressing down into the cushions of the couch as you lower yourself over his lap.

“Changed my mind,” Kiyoomi states, finally catching you and caressing his lips sinfully against yours. “I’m allowed to do that,” he continues, sucking a rasp from you as he drags his sharp teeth across the plush swell of your lower lip. “Mmm, you might have gotten a little distracted, so let me repeat my question: what are the tickets to?”

He is genuinely interested; he wants to know what you’ve planned for the two of you, but his hands have already started that downward journey, long digits stroking over the curves that flow down your side, cupping and pulling just the way you like. Your knees lift when he buries his fingertips into the flesh of your upper thighs and you sigh, breath warm against his flushed cheeks.

Actually, this is fine. After all, he’s good at this. He’s had plenty of time to learn you, to practice, and he loves that he knows just what to do to make you quake between his heated palms. But when he jerks you closer, your lips slip from his and you’re careful to brace yourself away, momentarily safe from his distracting caresses.

“Baseball,” you pant, hands resting over the hard plane of his pectorals.

“Huh?” he queries, heavy brows furrowing, wholly distracted by the rise and fall of your uneven breaths and the gentle twitch of your spread legs against his hips.

“A baseball game. I got us tickets to a baseball game.”

“It’s smaller than what I was picturing,” Kiyoomi says, adjusting the placement of his mask before looking down at you. “And what are you gonna do with that bag? Can you even take that in here?”

You laugh at his question, hoisting the thick strap of your insulated pack higher on your shoulder. “It’s the Yomiuri Giants, they’re part of the minor league so it’s a smaller stadium and don’t worry, they let you bring coolers and snacks in.”

“Eh? Snacks? Don’t they have concessions? Seems counter-productive if they let you bring your own food. How are they supposed to make money? Atsumu said that half of our vendors make a good deal of their revenue from their booths during the playoffs and the regular season. So I don’t see how that’s practical. What do you have in there, anyway? It looks heavy. Oh. Did you want me to carry it?”

“I’m not sure which one of those I should answer first,” you grin, dodging his extended hand and stepping forward. “Come on, I think we can head in now.”

The seats are located in the shade of the upper deck, right behind the third base, giving you both a perfect bird's-eye view of the action that will take place down on the field below. True to your word, the ticket inspectors had let you and your pack pass through without a word of protest, and as he flipped down his plastic seat, you carefully tucked the thick canvas between the two of you.

“What’s in it?” he asked again, peering over your shoulder as you unzipped the long teeth and reached into the dark depths, hands searching for something.

“You’ll see,” you promise, leaning back once you found your prize, a small bottle of hand sanitizer. You pop the lid up and nod for his palms, carefully pressing some of the clear antiseptic onto his hands. “Game should start soon,” you inform, repeating the cleaning process yourself before closing the top and tossing the bottle back into the bag. “And I wanna make sure you’re set before I head down to the concession stands.”

“So it’s food,” he determines, slipping his mask off of his face, tucking it under his chin, an appreciative smile winding its way up his lips.

“Of course it is! You think I’d leave you to languish for 9 innings while I sit beside you, gorging myself on the delicious food they sell at the concessions, which you refuse to eat? Alas, not even I am that cruel. Nah, I brought something that I hope you’ll like.”

“I’ll like it,” Kiyoomi replies, resting his muscled shoulder against yours, watching as you arrange a few clear sets of Tupperware in your hands, lifting them evenly out of the bag.

“Careful,” you jab, tossing him a mischievous grin. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Kiyoomi shrugs. “It’s from you; I’ll like it.”

Your hands still after his declaration and you twist your head back to him, eyes wide, searching his placid expression. “Okay,” you laugh, setting the Tupperware aside, fully turning to him and wrapping an arm around his neck, your other hand cupping his cheek, pulling him down to your seeking lips. “That was too much. There some sort of class you stoic types take? How to make others swoon in five lessons, or less?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kiyoomi rolls his eyes, prying your hands from him. “It’s true. No need to make a big deal about it. You put a lot of effort into today, and I...I just think that...I mean...thanks,” he finishes lamely, dark eyes balefully avoiding yours. You chuckle again and reward him with another peck to his cheek.

“So cute.”

“Stop it,” he grumbles, a faint blush staining his cheeks. “Weren’t you gonna show me something? Better hurry. After all, there’s still time for me to mess it up.”

“What does that mean?” you puzzle, pulling away.

“I dunno. I always say the wrong shit. You know that.”

“Well,” you ponder, tapping a finger against your chin. “We’re at a baseball game, so, in the spirit of the sport, why don’t I give you three strikes?”

“Just three? I mean, wow, that’s so generous of you.”

You flash him a quick glare, tutting your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “Oooh, swing and a miss. Strike one!”

He’s just about to give you some retort when you press two of the containers into his hands. The heat of the plastic feels nice against his calloused palms, and he can see the fresh steam that surrounds the food that’s waiting inside. “Onigiri?” he questions, popping the lid, mouth watering at the sight of all of that pristine rice. Damn, when did you have time to make these?

“Homemade onigiri with pickled plums,” you inform him, a gleeful smile lighting up your face, pleased that he’s already reaching for one, a look of genuine happiness falling over his usually impassive expression.

“You remembered,” he murmurs, picking up the carefully shaped ball and lifting it to his lips. He bites into the fluffy rice, fastidiously letting the flavors fall over his tongue and across his pallet. It’s perfect, he thinks as he chews, just the right amount of pickled savoriness and clean, delicate grains. Damn, when did you do all of this?

You let him finish the first onigiri before you pass him a can of beer. It’s chilled, likely sitting toward the bottom of the bag, and he flicks a stray chip of ice off of the rim. A sealed can of beer, a carefully packed meal. Is there anything you haven’t thought of?

He’s just about to turn, to tell you that...well, he’s not sure what exactly. Maybe it is something about how lucky he is. How he’s somehow stumbled into something so sublime, so wonderful, as you, and how he should tell you that more, when you stand.

“I’m going to hop down to the food stands. Inning should open up any minute. I’m glad this is an off season game, we’ve pretty much got this whole deck to ourselves! Be right back, ‘kay?”

He nods, eyes lingering on your hands, your smile, your eyes, just everything that he can see that’s you, but he doesn’t speak. He can’t. What’s he gonna say? Don’t go? Stay here. He’ll go down.

He’ll do whatever you want; anything for you, anything.

You tilt your head at his stony, almost stricken expression, but you don’t comment on it, content with tucking one of his stray curls behind his ear before you spring up the steps, stepping away from his overwhelmed and utterly entranced form.

Damn.

He’s scrolling through his phone when the 1st inning ends, thumb whisking over the lists of required paperwork, the $50 dollar notarial fee, the Kon-in Todoke, mentally counting up the required signatures, the necessary witnesses. This is crazy, he thinks, skimming over the U.S. Embassy & Consulate regulations on the ‘Affidavit of Competency to Marry’ in Japan, he hasn’t even talked with you about this, but he’s honestly never felt more sure of anything in his life.

Right as he flips to a secondary tab, one that holds a few jewelry stores and ideas about ‘how to pop the question,’ he catches sight of you. You slide down the row of empty seats, your hands filled with various snacks and a tall glass of foaming beer.

“Sorry! Wasn’t expecting to take that long, I completely missed the 1st inning! Good thing no one scored. Hopefully things will liven up with the 2nd and 3rd innings.” You settle in beside him, setting your beer against the cold concrete before jostling your popcorn and hot dog to your opposite hand, eyes peering over the brightly lit field.

Kiyoomi bites back his grin and switches his phone off, obscuring the glittering pixels of diamonds and his future plans from view and tucks his device into his jacket pocket. You turn to look at him, your eyes narrowing and brow arching at his poorly controlled attempts to hide his giddiness.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replies, slinging a long arm around your shoulders, tugging you close and planting a quick kiss against your temple.

“Liar,” you accuse, leaning back, eyes following the sharp angles of his handsome face.

“What made you pick baseball? You feeling homesick or something?”

“Hmph, no! I just...hmm, how to put this. I figured it’d be nice to take you to a game that’s not volleyball. One that we can just watch. There’s no need to worry about analyzing anyone’s performance, or your own here…you can just relax.”

Kiyoomi cocks his head at you, a few errant curls falling over his brow. “Do I do that when we go to a volleyball game?”

You nearly choke on your beer. “Mmm...koff...do you do that? Did you seriously just ask me that?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, obsidian eyes watching you closely. Wait, is he a pain to go to a game with?

“Kiyoomi?”

“Hmm.”

“I wasn’t about to take you to a volleyball game for your birthday. That’d be like you taking me back to the office and asking me to celebrate with you in the staff break room. I mean, I know you love the sport, but it’s your job. It’s what you do all day. Besides, the last time we went to a match I don’t think you said more than five words to me and you were constantly writing down the plays on your phone. I–Oh! That’s not a bad thing, not at all! It makes sense,” you amend, catching sight of his abruptly ashen expression.

“It’s just...you’re good...no good doesn’t cut it...you’re amazing at what you do. You’ve got that hunger that all the sports documentaries I’ve ever watched talk about and you’re constantly looking to improve. It’s impressive, really! But...I just thought this might be a change of pace. Something that we could both go to, could watch, with no additional stakes. Who cares who wins? I mean, I want the home team to, obviously, but we can leave here when it’s over and just take memories, not more worries or challenges. And definitely not any notes. Sorry, that prolly’ sounds so rude, but I really want you to relax today. You more than deserve it.”

“It’s perfect,” Kiyoomi confirms, finally leaning back against the strong plastic of his seat, pulling you closer, bringing his knee toward your thigh, pressing until he can feel the heat of you past the material of his jeans. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” you laugh. “It’s the least I could do. If you’re happy, then I’m happy! Oh! Speaking of, you gotta try this beer! It’s so good!”

He looks skeptically down at the plastic glass that’s still clutched between your fingers. “No. I’m not drinking out of that cup.”

“Kiyoomi,” you begin, fixing him with a hard stare. “You know we live together, right? If I pick anything up from this, then, and I hate to tell you this, but you’ll get it too, eventually.”

With a scoffed exhale and a curl of his lip he leans away from you, nose wrinkling distastefully at your threat.

“Come on,” you taunt, shaking the cup playfully in your hand, “You won’t regret it!”

“No.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun, you know that?”

“Never heard that before,” he laughs, coiling himself toward you, his arm around your back, squeezing you closer, holding on as tight as he can.

It’s dark when the two of you get back home, but you won’t let him flip on the overhead lights, not yet. “Just wait, gimme a sec. There’s one more thing I wanna do...why don’t you go sit on the couch. I’ll turn on the lamp and be right back, promise.”

Obediently, he perches on the edge of the cushions and waits.

He can hear you as you move around the kitchen, and he feels like he can still feel the warmth of your skin under his fingertips. Throughout the game, on the cab ride home, as he stood behind you in the darkened hallway, waiting for you to unlock the door, he’d kept his hands on you. It was like you were some kind of magnet and he couldn’t help but be tugged forward by your irresistible pull.

“Hey! Close your eyes!” you call, feet soft against the wood as you pad back to him. He shakes his head at your request, a faint smile pulling at his lips, but he obliges you. How can he not? “No peeking,” you warn, and he it’s like he can almost feel you again as you come to stand in front of him once more. “Alright…I think that’s good. Now...open them!”

The space in front of him is bathed in a soft glow, with whisking yellows and gentle oranges dancing, flickering across your arms. The light from the candle illuminates your face, catching against your eyes and making them shine, and he’s honestly not sure if he’s breathing anymore.

“I know it’s not much,” you justify, cupping your fingers around the delicate flame and lifting the cupcake toward him. “But I learned my lesson last year. Got you that huge cake and the leftovers languished in the fridge for almost a week. And you know what they say, less is more, right?”

Without thinking, his hands race forward, gripping your waist and pulling you closer. “Woah,” you exhale, a laugh bubbling from your lips. “Careful! I don’t wanna catch you on fire. Some birthday that would be. Come on, time’s a’wasting birthday boy, blow it out and make a wish!”

He’d lied earlier.

When he’d thought that there was nothing special about birthdays. There is something special about this birthday and, for the first time, he knows just what he’s going to wish for.

It’s easy to blow out the light. It’s a little harder to protect the cupcake from his downward tug, his hands insistent, firm, but somehow you safely tuck it behind you and twist back to him, fingers lacing into his onyx curls.

“What did you wish for?” you ask, settling yourself across his lap.

“Can’t tell you yet,” Kiyoomi answers honestly, lips already seeking yours.

“Huh? You’re not supposed to tell me at all!”

“Too bad,” he intones, silencing any further retorts with the heady persuasion of his caresses and wandering touch. “I’m gonna tell you soon. Now let me enjoy you.”

notes: hbd! shoutout to @albinoburrito for her excellent edits and suggestions :*

#hbd sakusa 🧁#sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #hq!!#hq #hq imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi x you #kiyoomi x y/n #drabble #sort of???#whatever #it's a drabble

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