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scorpcorpse · 4 years

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5/18/20 - type time 732-822pm

so yesterday i went on tinder just like i always do when im feeling extra bored and lonely. well anyway i matched with cute looking boy so he messages me.

PS im writing all of this here because i feel weird telling my friends what was all said. i told them a bit but not everything.

so we end up talking, and surprisingly it was a good conversation. it was very random though. im laughing and smiling at my phone. my conversations die fast or are about topics i dont really care for. im always into the conversation though no matter what especially because i like talking to people. moving on, you cant send picture on tinder so he sends me his number while reassuring me that he wont be sending dick pics (yay). he’s ranting on and on, flooding my phone with compliments. we’re talking this whole quarantine to him thanking the universe he’s glad he’s talking to a person who is pretty and cool. we talk about all the weird interactions we’ve had on this app and how everyone is soooo horny. he goes to tell me he loves my hair, he says i look like the type of girl, in a show, if i had just gone through hell, and i were to run my fingers through my hair it would just fall back into over my face so perfectly. i was like wtf. i didnt know what to say because that is very very very far from the truth. i would just look like hell. we go on to talk about our personalities and whether we are more introverted or extroverted. he’s more introvert while im more extrovert. i told him though it kind of changes depending on the situation like if i was on a date or getting serious with a person. we talk about how we hate it when people are mean to others by telling others to be quiet when theyre being too loud when it isn’t bothering anyone (does that make sense) like if youre having a good time by yourself and someone tells you to shut up or be quiet because it’s annoying them. he said he would never ever tell me to be quiet. he’s only really loud when he’s excited or passionate about something. we talk more of our dating life, he has a bigger dating pool than me though. he asks me again for the fifth time later; how am i doing, are you bangin, are you sewing sweaters? he wants to know everything. this all has me confused and intrigued. is it weird that i feel like he is very interested in actually talking to me. he asks me if i would be willingly to break quarantine to hang out. i tell him quarantine is okay eh.. im holding up okay, i do need to worry about my big head that only has two brain cells left. i also tell him im the biggest broke bitch he’ll ever meet. he says i wont ask you to pay for anything so dont worry your big head. he understands i dont want to go out. he says we can just talk and hangout over facetime. he proceeds to ask if he can ft me right now. its 2am and i look like a fucking mess. i say im a catfish he says fuck it, im half awake and im not looking for looks. next thing i know he’s calling. we talk for three hours.

what happens in those next three hours is weird. i dont even know what happened. well immediately i ask him about his tattoos so he gives me the whole run down of his tattoos on his arms. there super cool i like them. my favorite word is yuck and apparently that’s his too because he has that tattooed on his wrist. the meaning is sad kind of he said thats how he felt about himself when he was younger so that drove him to doing that tattoo to himself. he has another arm tattoo where he throws a small detail of him having it to remind him of his friend, his old life of being on the streets and being addicted to drugs. this threw me off because he brushed over it like it was nothing. i didn’t know what else to say. i said uh okay. i wanted to scream are you okay? are you sober now? how are you? but nothing came out. he talks of his other tattoos. conversation changes to him complimenting me again. he wants to see my while face instead just my eyes and nose. i tell him about piercings. he talks about his band. he talks about the punk community. he’s rambling but it doesn’t bother me because i like how soft and soothing his voice is. he continues telling me how pretty i am, like he doesn’t stop for like two minutes. at this point i tell him im not going to respond to you anymore, im not going to take it. he tells me to take it. i take it. i dont believe him though. he can’t see my body, he can barely see my face. i have ance and my face is fat. i know i look disgusting. as he continues to say nice things about me i feel like he’s lying because no one does that. i feel like he’s saying to just make fun of me. im hating all of this. i try not to blush. im smiling. i always change the subject when he makes me feel weird and uncomfortable by saying okay or alrighty anyway. he asks me where are you from, whats make me, me? i try to think of things to say. i tell him about my being in california with no family. i tell him that the one thing that matters the most to me if my relationship with my little sister and all my friends. he agrees because same. he goes on to relate and tells me he’s all alone too. he tells me his dad is gone, his mom is too. he’s an alcoholic. he’s sober now he’s been sober for a year now. he’s okay. i tell him im sorry. im proud of you and how far you have come. im always here if you want to talk. he says no no no no dont say any of that stuff. i tell him again and that i mean it. i really do mean it too. (IF NONE OF THIS MAKES SENSE AND YOURE STILLING READING THANK YOU AND ILY, IF YOU KNOW ANYONE WITH OBSESSIVE OR ADDICTIONS please be there for them, it gets super hard to be there but try and help them push through another day) we go on to more random talking. before i finally get sleepy and he says he’s gonna let me go and sleep. he asks if we can see each other. he tells me when he first saw me he wanted to fuck me but he knew that wouldn’t make him feel any better. he’d still be alone. he then decided to message me because he actually felt like putting in the effort to get to know me. not just for sake of fucking me but to know me like he seems to do a little now. he doesn’t much know about me though. he asks if we can talk tomorrow. he says i hope we can actually meet up and im totally cool with just hanging out with you and just vibing. we dont have to do anything. i just want to chill with you. i tell him thanks for telling me all of this. i appreciate it because many guys dont say any of this. i say yes we can talk tomorrow, i’ll text you. we can be friends and once this all settles down maybe we can meet in person. he then tells me, im only going to say this once and im never going to remind you again. im cool with friends with you but that’s not my intention. i want to be more than friends, i want to your person, your boyfriend. but until youre ready after a while of us talking and when it crosses your mind where you like me and think of me differently then we can move on to being more. i was just sitting starring at my phone in shock. i didnt know what to do or say. i was confused. in my mind i wss like okay yes we have a 2 hour text convo and a 3 hour phone call but what. you cant say of this after that can you. i agreed because it was the only that could come out of my mouth at the time. he says okay, my name, i’ll you go and sleep. goodnight. i tell him goodnight. we hang up the phone. now i turn my body around to my back on the bed starring at the ceiling saying what the hell just happened. i fall asleep.

IM sORRY for my ramble. i was in shock and im confused and scared like what if turns out to be bad for me. but all the compliments, the soothing voice, the small hints well actually big hints of his battle with addiction. ps he also tells me about his anger issues and therapy. i feel weird. i slowly started to be seduced by him, like he started to seduce me. iykyk lmao.

#rant #ramblings #scared shitles #addiction #new guy #ana #bulimja #skiny girl #i'm sad #loneliest #quarantine

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

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And All The Queen’s Men {Roger Taylor}

A/N: 5486 words. Okay wow. Please bare with me, this is a long one and also a bit of a different one. Written in the style of a Rolling Stone article. Finished it at 7am. Prompt & support from the lovely @ginghampearlsnsweettea

[And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse masterpost]

Warning: Minor character death, in both senses, it’s a baby, it’s not graphic it’s just mentioned, but just thought I should let you know.

And All The Queen’s Men: how the lines blurred between Queen and and the Queen of Jazz Rock.

An article almost two years in the making, after their last tour, which I was invited along to in order to write the initial article, the rock sensation Queen split, a decision, I am lead to be believe, was instigated by front man Freddie Mercury, and though Giselle Jones had continued to make music, even before her very public, on-stage breakdown, her lawyers had me keep the article to myself. Now, with the band’s reunion, and Live Aid having been a massive success with both powerhouse musical names coming back into the public eye, I’ve invited them back to my office for one last interview, but mostly to beg them to let me publish this article.

Which, obviously, they allowed.

It’s 1985, and with them all sitting in front of me, I feel a sense of deja vu. There are some changes, of course, Roger Taylor’s hair is shorter, Giselle Jones is wearing jeans and a sweater rather than her well-known cocktail dress, but John Deacon’s still smiling at me, Brian’s looking about the room, perhaps seeing if anything’s changed, and Freddie Mercury’s draped casually on the left of the only non-Queen member of the bunch.

But before I get into the past two years, maybe I should take you back a bit, to when Giselle and Queen began collaborating.

Giselle Jones began in the late sixties as the front-woman of a swing band in a thirties theme pub known as Modern Glamour. Tall, elegant, with a voice like honey, she had a small following of regulars that frequented the pub, but had kept her passion from music from her family, claiming she was merely a waitress at the establishment, since her father was an executive at EMI, and she didn’t want to seem like the subject of nepotism.

However, one fateful day, her father brings music industry giant to the pub for lunch, hoping to catch Giselle at work and introduce her, but as you know, they both got a lot more than they bargained for. Foster sees potential in her, and offers her a contract if she’s willing to modernise her act, and as we all know, she does.

When Giselle releases her first album in 1970, Velvet Roses, which would be the first and only “Jazz” record to hit the Top 40 charts for that year, Queen are still playing pub gigs around London, though they’re looking at recording their first album, which would eventually get EMI’s attention, but that’s still not for a while. At this point, they’re the biggest fish in a very small uni-pub pond, and they need the means to grow. So out goes the band’s van, for one night in a recording studio.

“Like, in retrospect, of course it was the right decision.” Taylor leans against the back of the sofa he’s sitting on in my office in 1982, voice contemplative and fingers locked together as he looks into the past. “But I was twenty-two at the time, selling my van was a big deal.”

“A big enough deal that you wrote a song about it.” Giselle adds, sitting beside him in the middle of the sofa. Deacon hides a smile though May doesn’t hide his snort of laughter.

The smirked remark is at odds with her look. While the boys are all in various states of brightly patterned shirts and jeans, looking casual and comfortable; Giselle wears white, sequinned, off-the-shoulder gown that hugs her figure and hits the floor, a slit in the thigh where her leg crosses, dark skin a stunning contrast to both the white fabric of her dress, and the leather of my sofa. Hands folded in over her knee, there’s not a singular hair out of place where she’s got it slicked back; I can’t look at her directly, she’s so focused and well put-together that it’s like staring at the sun.

The contrast has always been apparent in their various works, though Mercury has, in the past, cited her as an early inspiration for his desire to add a certain classical gravitas to rock and roll, and though she hasn’t publicly stated anything, the amount of covers Giselle has performed lived could fill an album. And now, here they are, about leave for a double-billed tour of the US, which I have been asked to join.

But their connection goes back much further than this, all the way back to 1975, to the release of the smash-hit single Bohemian Rhapsody That very same year, Giselle releases her fifth single, Dinner and a Show, a lyrically dissonant, heart pumping anthem that’s a metaphor for the way any type of review fuelled her, since it meant people were talking about her work.

You serve yourself on a platter; your putrid delights, / yet how can I refrain? / You don’t come to flatter, you don’t want to go / so come on baby, / don’t you know? / You’re treating me to dinner and a show.

Giselle’s usually silky performance is turned into a masterclass of vocal gymnastics as she slides easily from the rough intensity of rock and roll, to the smooth purr of jazz as she sings about eating critics for breakfast.

They say a free mind makes the meat so tender / now you’re on the menu and I’m a big spender

The song itself comes as a response to her former manager about how her “aggressive” move to music that more stylistically rock and roll was alienating older audiences, though Foster, still her producer at the time, was pushing for her to skew to a younger audience, and it seemed as though he had gotten his way.

The real change, however, was the B-Side of the record. After speaking to Jim “Miami” Beach, Queen’s lawyer, regarding potentially covering one of the band’s songs, Giselle reveals that she was eventually told to just ask them directly.

“I gave Miami a letter that basically explained that I’d like to cover one of their songs for my new album,” Giselle gives me a thin smile, and I feel like I’ve done something wrong, even though I’m assured by Brian that her public persona “is just like that sometimes”.

“- and I thought it was a joke! I said ‘yeah, sure, what’s the worst that could happen’.” Mercury laughs, leaning forward elbows on his knees and eyes shinning with amusement. “I did not believe for one second that Giselle, Giselle-” repeating her name for emphasis, his hand comes to quickly rest on hers where she still has them perfectly still on her knee, a moment of solidarity, “wanted anything to do with us. Hand Held Heart had been at the top of the US charts for almost three whole weeks the year before.” Letting out a long, wistful sigh, Mercury sits back, still grinning, though he’s got this far away look on his face now.

“So we’d been stuck on a farm, recording A Night At The Opera for weeks with no outside communications, ” May fills in where Mercury’s faded into his own memories, and Taylor slings arm around Giselle where she’s actually relaxed somewhat, hands now in her lap. Curiously, she doesn’t shrug him off. “And when we get back, it turns out that she’s put a jazz cover of Jesus, yeah, that song from our first album, on the B-Side of her newest single.”

“Freddie practically had a heart attack.” Deacon adds, patting Mercury’s shoulder fondly.

In her own way, she was continuing the trend that Dinner and a Show had started, and that seven-inch single would bestow upon Giselle the title of Queen of Jazz Rock. It hadn’t been the first time she had acknowledged the band publicly, by the time she had released the single, her public persona had gained enough traction that, a few months prior to her recording of the cover, a reporter had asked if Killer Queen, Queen’s biggest hit at the time, had been written about her. The question had been caught on camera by the reporter after one of her tour stops in the Midwest of America; the footage is a favourite of fans, including myself, of the way she doesn’t even turn, simply calls over her shoulder, ‘they should be so lucky’, and she gets into her waiting car.

“I never took offence,” Mercury tells me, both in 1982, and 1985, as I bring it up both times to consolidate the origins of their musical partnership.

“You wouldn’t, you were all starry-eyed for her back then.” Taylor leans back to address Mercury behind Giselle’s head, but only when he says it the first time, in 1982.

“It was a bit of a dig at us,” Deacon agrees with the drummer, nodding before shrugging. “A lot of good came out of it, though.” The others seem to agree, but Giselle herself has stayed quiet. For the first time since the interview started, she looks away from me, gaze dipping as she seems inclined to speak, though she takes her time to weigh up her words before she says them, wondering exactly what will and will not be printed.

“It was a bit of s**t thing to say. I was twenty-four and I panicked, I had to keep up my... this persona.” She gestures now to herself, breaking the entire physicality as she lets herself lean back, and I feel like I can breathe, seeing her act so human. Adjusting, she lets herself rest of the slightest of diagonals, shoulder to shoulder with Taylor’s arm still around her, now with Mercury petting her knee in solidarity.

Once in the tour bus, the difference between Giselle Jones, the woman, and Giselle, the singer and personality, becomes almost jarring to see. As soon as we get into the bus, she strips off the gown she was wearing, I turn away, though the others don’t seem to be bothered by it, May takes the dress to a waiting assistant by the door, and when I turn back, she’s in a pair of sweat pants and Taylor is tossing her shirt several sizes too big for her. For the first time since I’ve learned about her, Giselle looks comfortable, looks approachable and, for lack of a better word, non-robotic, taking a hairbrush from a drawer and flopping onto one of the beds as she brushes out the gel, apparently not bothering with a shower just yet.

“I showered this morning.” She seems to have caught my confused look, and explains herself. With her guard lowered in the familiar situation, her natural voice shines through, a rich, yet feminine alto, reminiscent of her singing voice. It adds to the list of things that add character to her beyond what her “persona” could ever convey. Or perhaps that’s the point.

The bus itself is almost too small for the five performers, and I’m certain it won’t fit me, but Giselle and I watch as they cram a blow up bed onto the kitchen table. It looks stable, and for the opportunity to experience living in such close quarters with such big names, I’d take anything.

“Sorry, darling, Paul takes the only spare bed.” Mercury informs me as I shimmy up onto the bed to test if it would hold. I had thought that the vehicle was at capacity, though it does make sense that the band’s day-to-day manager, Paul Prenter, would be travelling with them. That being said, I hadn’t realised there was even a spare bed, there was only five, perhaps none of them had wanted to be subjected to the blow up bed and decided to share instead.

When we finally get on the road, I get to finally see their true dynamics emerge. We all know the Queen dynamics by now, brotherly yet volatile, at times. I had worried for Giselle at times, the concept of living with four men (five if you count Prenter, who Giselle does not seem to, when I ask her about it, though I don’t think that’s a subject I should pry about, judging by the look on Taylor’s face where I can see him lounging at the back of the bus). However, I should have not have been worried; first of all, despite the youthfulness of their appearances, performances, and spirit, these are all men in their 30s, Giselle herself being 31 at the time of writing (1982), and they all have experience living with women, and with each other.

“First tour was a nightmare.” Deacon’s joined me on the blowup bed, is sipping tea as we travel along. “We learned real quick how disgusting close quarters can be.” He’s a quiet soul, but observant, and honestly I really enjoy his company. Anyone who can weather over a decade of rock and roll and come out as calm as him deserves some sort of recognition. “It’s much better now. Mostly.” He smiles like it’s an inside joke, but won’t elaborate. Giselle and Taylor refuse to clarify what he means by that, May just laughs when I ask him, directing me back to ask Taylor and Giselle, and Mercury calls them all gossips.

It’s something about the tour lifestyle that must bring out the childishness in them all, which comes out strongly during dinner. They shove my blowup bed into the sleeping quarters when dinner is served, and the five of us manage to cram into the tiny booth the bus allows. May, Deacon and Giselle are in charge of cooking dinner, sausages, potatoes, and peas, since apparently Prenter and Mercury have taken lunch duties, and Roger has put himself in charge of getting coffee and tea for everyone in the morning.

“We should really eat breakfast.” Giselle muses through half a mouthful of food.

“I do!” Deacon, next to me, comes back with, pouring some more peas onto his plate.

“You just eat cereal from the box, Deaky, that’s not breakfast.” Taylor counters him, which just causes the rest of the table to devolve into an argument about what counts as breakfast. Prenter, who has joined us for the meal, looks like he’d rather be napping or still driving, and makes quiet work of his meal.

Roger Taylor goes to sleep after me, and wakes up before I do, and I’m not sure how he does it. Or where he sleeps, the other beds seem taken. He wakes me up on the first morning by shoving my bed, which slides a few centimeters, but isn’t about to fall off it’s perch.

“You want coffee?” I’m barely functioning at this point, and his question baffles me. “Tea? Coffee? Deaky’s cereal? We got some left over sausages.” He lists off, probably due to my clear confusion, he seems exasperated, even though he’s definitely wearing pyjamas too. He’s still scowling a little when I tell him how I like my coffee, but he doesn’t complain, and it tastes exactly like I like it when he hands it over. The bus is stationary, so he can put the cups by the bedsides of those they are for, but interestingly enough he joins me on the table/bed.

I know the origin story of Queen, I think everyone does at this point, so I ask him instead about the subject of my article; how Queen got involved with Giselle.

“You wanna know how I met Giselle?” It’s not exactly what I asked, but he’s already thinking about it, looking past me to the sleeping quarters with a frown. He plays absent-mindedly with the chain around his neck, and with the ring attached to it. “I thought everyone knew about that, the whole thing where we hated each other from the start?” When I ask if it was true, he actually laughs, though it’s more a snort of derision, if I’m being honest. “Of course not. Mostly.” They all seem to like that word, I hadn’t taken them all to be vague.

“I told him to take a long walk off a short pier.” Giselle will clarify for me later that day, joining me as I take a smoke break at one of our bathroom stops, not that there isn’t a toilet on the bus, they just try to avoid using it as much as possible. She doesn’t smoke, claims she never has, but enjoys the company, while the boys are buying snacks at the gas station. I ask when it was, she gives me another thin smile, but not like it had been in the office. Here it’s the punctuation to an earlier joke rather than a judgement.

She tells me about how she actually met them all, recording her second album, after her 1972 performance on Top of the Pops, you know the one. It had cemented Giselle’s now iconic aesthetic of an off the shoulder, floor length sequinned gown, silk gloves, and bold red lipstick, dark hair falling victory curls, the whole look reminiscent of an old Hollywood star, though there was red glitter trailing from her lips, and on her gloves in a theatrical fabrication of blood. It had been a look inspired by her musical roots, and the theatricality of the then-popular glam rock, a movement which would inspire many of Mercury’s tour looks also.

She was twenty-one at the time, still “developing her persona”, when she found that the in-house recording equipment at EMI was being used by the then-still quite unknown Queen. Or rather, according to Giselle, just Taylor.

“He was packing up the last of his equipment, and he makes a pass at me, thinks I’m an intern.” We can see the boys leaving the gas station, Taylor himself heading the pack. “So yeah, told him to take a long walk off a short pier.” She laughs, seems to hold the memory quite dear. “That b******d has the gall to look me in the eyes and ask who I am.”

“Did he know who you were?” When I look at her, she’s still smiling, tipping her head to the side as the boys draw close. She seems to be paying attention to me, but not a lot.

“Yeah, told me later he was just pissed I didn’t throw myself at him. That’s why I said that, ‘they should be so lucky’ thing, actually, that motherf****r right there.” The way she says it, raising her finger to point at him, makes me think it’s a story she’s told before, one that he knows about.

“You talking about me?” Taylor yells, and Giselle is quick to answer that she is. “Don’t spill all my secrets.” It sounds like an order, but his smile says it’s not, it’s weirdly playful, a dynamic I didn’t expect from them, especially considering their history. I raise the point. She laughs at me.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Prenter calls for everyone on the bus, and Giselle doesn’t think to clarify once we’re back on board.

The tour, I should have mentioned earlier, is a double feature; Queen is promoting their album Hot Space, while Giselle is promoting her own, The Bend Before the Break. When I ask her about the album itself, she talks happily about a few of the songs, however when I bring up my personal favourites, Ache and Heaven Sent, she turns very quiet.

I will end up watching most of her performances, and to this day, I have never seen something as raw and spiritual as Giselle performing Ache.

The lights dim as the joyful Meant to Be finishes. On the studio recording, a double bass starts the song, long, grieving and angry notes that pick up in tempo as it’s joined by drums and a piano, and finally, her voice, low, bitter and seductive in equal measure. Here, there’s silence, as she gently croons the open lines, face illuminated by only a single gold light, as swirling red and purple lights move about the stage.

While saying you were sorry, / you burned me from the outside, in. / Now I’m calloused all over, / And too tired to feel the sting. / But I feel the ache, / feel the ache / feel the ache. / I’ll still let you back in.

She plays the piano herself for this song, a skill, I later learn Mercury had taught her many years ago. It’s a song that tugs at your gut, gets you thinking about how you keep people in your life who aren’t the best for you. She ends the last chorus with a long, mournful wail that you feel in your bones.

I’ve never heard a crowd so quiet as when she finishes Ache, the penultimate song of her set list, unless you count encores.

The final song of the night is always Heaven Sent, a bright, headbanging anthem with the musical gravitas of a full jazz band. It was her single from the album, it topped most charts. You know the one. The radio won’t stop playing it.

Divinity with a neon glow / it hung above his head, / promoting his next show. / Didn’t even try to find my light, / just the darkness he’d bestow. / Heaven sent me the Morningstar.

“I was cheated on.” Was all she will say about the songs.

The others steer clear of those songs as well, when talking about the album, as well as the titular song, The Bend Before the Break, though Giselle claims she has moved on from the feelings associated in all three songs.

“I wrote them first on the album, I’ve moved on.”

Each of the boys seems very protective of Giselle at times, though Taylor is by far the worst. If I’m being honest, was weird to me, they’d been at each other’s throats publicly and professionally for almost a full decade after Giselle’s initial comment, however the vitriol had died down in the past few years, so I enquire about that about halfway through the six week tour.

“We set them up.” May is the first to answer, sipping tea with myself, Deacon and Mercury. Since both Giselle and Taylor adjourned to the sleeping quarters. I ask him what he means.

“They tell it better.” Mercury interjects, but May argues that they’re asleep anyways so it’s not like it matters. Deacon agrees with Mercury, but quiet enough that May ignores him.

“So by ‘79, we’ve collaborated together, us and ‘Zelle, I mean,” the nickname is mostly used by May and Taylor, though Deacon uses it on occasion, “a couple of times, and we love her, right boys? We love her-” looking around, both Mercury and Deacon are nodding along, responding to a story they’d both heard before, though it was interesting for my first time hearing it, “but Rog is about ready to stab her with his drumsticks, but that’s just how he is.”

“Threatened to stab me once.” Deacon adds the unnerving information with complete serenity, focused on his cup.

“Me a couple of times.” Mercury shakes his head, as if it were some schoolboy prank rather than a stabbing threat.

“Like I said, just how he is. So we decide to send them to a place where they can bond over complaining about everything else, apart from each other.” I asked how it worked out for them and I watch as their faces fall. This terrible blind date idea must have gone horribly. “They hate the restaurant, which is good, but he goes to leave and bumps the table, spilling beer all over her dress, which is bad,” well, obviously. He pays me no mind, “and she elbows him in the face when she’s putting her jacket on - still don’t know how that one happened - but he still says he’ll take her home because it’s late, except-”

“To preface,” Deacon jumps in here, adding a little more milk to his tea, “she hates I’m In Love With My Car.” The song? Deacon nods. “Rog wrote it.” I can connect the dots, but I’m still confused as to how that lead to them being friends.

“Friends.” Mercury actually laughs into his cup.

“He takes her home anyways, she tells him the song’s s**t bu the sentiment wasn’t far off.” May finishes, shrugging.

“It was a real nice car.” Deacon shrugged, before looking straight at me. “And she still hates the song to this day.” There’s an air of finality to his words that is entirely unwarranted. That isn’t the point of the story; how are they friends now? Did they hook up in his car? Is that what they’re implying, I feel like such a gossip asking these questions.

“Did they ho- ? Yeah, of course.” May laughs, and though it clears some things up, I’m still rather confused. It’s probably reading on my face, because it looks like something else is dawning on him. “You know they’re married, right?”

No. No I did not know. Now I feel like an idiot.

I wonder if The Bend Before the Break is about Taylor? I can sense I’ve touched a nerve when I ask, and Mercury abruptly changes the subject, though the air still doesn’t feel right. When I head back through the sleeping area to get a new pen from my luggage, I catch a glimpse of Giselle napping in her bunk, Taylor too, asleep with his arm around her. She’s even wearing a wedding ring. I’m kicking myself for not noticing sooner. The chain with the ring around Taylor’s neck makes sense now. A lot of things make sense now.

For the next four days I feel like I’m being shunned, I’m the last to be told about dinner and have to eat the leftovers, Giselle barely says two words to me, Taylor just keeps glowering, and someone let the air out of my bed on the second night. It’s childish, but it’s in line with what I expect from them, regarding this sort of issue, I’m just glad Taylor hasn’t poured my coffee on me in my sleep, or spat in it. He just didn’t make it, which I suppose is probably the safest option for me.

The only apology I can think of is to offer to buy them all drinks, but it works well enough, and the next morning I wake to a fresh cup of coffee, and a very hungover Taylor. At least he’s dedicated to his job.

The rest of the tour passes without further incident. I still stand by Ache as one of my favourite musical performances of the decade, though I don’t mention it to Giselle, and now that I know the dynamic between her and Taylor, I can’t stop seeing it. Honestly, readers, they’re all over each other, which is expected from a man of Taylor’s reputation, but it’s still a little jarring to see the two of them so cozy. I must have been blind not to see it before.

When we part ways, Giselle is a little stiff with me.

“You brought up some feelings that I just... hadn’t actually dealt with at the time, which f******d me up.” She tells me in retrospect, sitting in my office with the rest of the boys in 1985. Live Aid was a few weeks ago, and since they all returned to the spotlight, I asked if they wanted to come and reflect on the past few years. The one thing that hasn’t changed is the fact that Giselle still swears like a sailor.

“A lot’s happened in the past few years.” Taylor’s still very protective of her, and after everything that’s conspired, at least from what I know, it’s warranted. We talk about the band splitting, how it had hurt the band as a whole, and even Giselle, who was at the time seeing a counsellor with Taylor. I’m hesitant to broach the topic of their relationship, though they seem like a solid until now, sitting before me, holding hands and leaning against one another.

I ask if Giselle’s breakdown was due to the band splitting, though I’m hesitant if I’ll get a response. Her smile is sad, which is mirrored by the rest of the band. I can guess her response before she says it.

“No.”

You all know the moment I’m talking about, the last concert for her last album, as of this publication, Finally, Sunlight where she had receive pleas from the audience for an encore. When she came back out, part of her makeup had been smudged around her eyes, and you can hear her sniffle over the microphone. (”I’m so sorry, I lost someone close to me, I thought I could keep it together for one night.” Dabbing at her eyes, she sits at the piano and laughs, but there’s no heart in it. “But I’ve got five more minutes left in me, let’s go, Atlanta.”) The song she plays is Somebody to Love, a slow, soulful cover, and the audience is almost unanimous in their raised lighters and slow swaying. As she goes on, she just starts crying harder, missing notes, hands shaking; the extended ‘Looooord’ before the chanting becomes a desperate wail, a plea to the heavens, and she collapses onto the piano, sobbing audibly as the instruments all come to uncertain halt and lighters go down in confusion.

From the crowd, a single voice begins to chant ‘Find me somebody to love. / Find me somebody to love.’ and a single voice turns to a theatre, full to the brim, as they sing when she can’t, still crying against the piano. Lighters go up, and together the audience and the band finishes the song where words have failed her. It was televised locally on the night, and still brings me to tears when I watch it now.

“We lost our daughter.”

For those of you reading this who are shocked, I am too. Sitting there like a fool, not saying anything.

“I was on tour, and Rog was at home with her,” even now, Giselle is getting a little teary-eyed, not that I blame her. Both Taylor and Mercury have an arm around her, and May has a hand on her shoulder, Deacon sitting on the back of the sofa right behind her. A unit. A family. “I wanted to go home, she was getting really sick, and I know he was doing everything he could, but I just- I wanted to be there... but my label threatened to sue me for... millions.” It sounds like it’s hard to say, and she’s wiping a tear from her eyes. I offer her the tissues on my desk. “But I should have gone home. I should have been there by her side, I should have done more.” Taylor whispers something to her and she leans against him, taking comfort in him.

“I had to call her, tell her that... that she’d passed. The day of the show. She’d been so upset for week, ‘Zelle that is, and everything just-” Taylor manages to get a great handle on his emotions, despite his misty eyes and shaking hands. “We’re alright now though, see? Nothing can tear us apart.” Though his voice does drop, so I think he’s saying it more for Giselle’s benefit. I give them all time to collect themselves, stop to get hot drinks for everyone, and everyone finally seems happy enough to answer when I ask what’s next for them.

“Music, of course.” Mercury says, now holding what was Giselle’s free hand. The rest of the gathered musicians agree. I ask if we’ll be hearing any sort of collaboration between Queen and the Queen of Jazz Rock. Taylor snickers, pulling Giselle close.

“Yeah, but not in the way you mean.” He ignores the rest of the men’s shouts of disgust, as well as his wife’s own gagging noise, which I can see on her face she regrets as she covers her mouth with caution, before giving the okay.

“No, we’re okay, we’re good.” She assures everyone, before looking at me. “What he meant to say is that I’m pregnant.” She clarifies. Taylor is still grinning.

“Don’t be gross, Rog.” May calls from the other side of the sofa, and Taylor has the gall to look accosted.

“What’s next for me, after everything that’s happened, is family.” Giselle says over the sounds of her husband’s indignant huffs, though his expression turns soft at her words, and they ignore the ‘boo’s of everyone else as they kiss.

“Could you be less gross around company?” Deacon asks, still mild-mannered as ever. This seems to be the cue for the interview to end, as Taylor of Giselle-

“It’s Giselle Taylor, by the way, I’m sorry I hadn’t corrected you earlier.” She corrects me now, as [Roger] Taylor leads her out of the door. The rest of the band seem mildly exasperated at their antics, but still ready to answer my questions. After everything that’s happened, I’m a little overwhelmed, I’m not sure where to go from here.

Perhaps my next article will be on Live Aid.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #queen #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #queen imagine #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #the angry lizard writes #bohemian rhapsody imagine

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xoruffitup · 5 years

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AITAF’s Broadway Show

WHERE DO I START? Okay, at the beginning, I guess - Deep breaths!

First, I want to describe the beautifully diverse group that came together for this extraordinary evening. It started with me and two amazing girls I met at SNL. (One being @reylonly <3) We sat together during the SNL dress rehearsal, exchanged phone numbers afterwards, and we’ve had the best group chat going ever since. My veteran dad came for me and @reylonly’s military ticket admission, while our third SNL friend had managed to connect with a colleague’s mother, who was an army nurse. The vet nurse loves theater and brought her husband as well, so we were a pretty inspiring group of all ages and backgrounds, and shared amazing conversation throughout the night.

The evening started with a very classy reception. We saw Joanne floating around talking to people and she looked stunninggg. The reception area wasn’t that big though, so we soon went down to the theater to find our seats.

We sat in the 5th row!! So when Adam came up to the front of the stage to give an introductory speech at the beginning about the inspiration to start AITAF, their 10-year anniversary, and to thank everyone who made the performance possible, I was just sitting there basking in awe and the fact that he was really THERE. TALKING. SO CLOSE. No, I would not get over it even at all for the following 2 and a half hours... :’)

I’ve read a bit of Sam Shepard but never seen True West performed live, but wow you could not ask for two better actors to play the main characters: Brothers Austin (Adam) and Lee (Michael Shannon). They said before they started the reading that they’d only rehearsed that afternoon, which is nothing short of INCREDIBLE, given how well these two played off each other. This play is full of furious, dark humor and there’s an edge of potential violence undercutting almost every scene, building the tension more and more until Austin finally tries to strangle Lee in the final scene. These two pushed and pulled at each other, getting in each other’s faces and needling each other with sharp words and insults. It was like the actors had been playing off each other for months; They knew just how to drive each other to the breaking point, and they were each brilliant in depicting the moments of rupture.

Adam highlights: There was an amazing section when Austin gets very drunk. Adam sang twice, the second time a hilarious mix of singing and shouting. He started the play wearing a blue t shirt with a grey sweater on top, but during this scene he pulled the sweater over his head, dragged it off, then bundled it up and stuffed it under his shirt. He walked around like that for a good five minutes. He half-fell against a wall and dropped to the floor, only to do a handstand and kick his feet up against the wall. (!!! This was AMAZING ahaha) At some point he did an INCREDIBLE coyote yelping noise. Another point, he talked with an entire mouthful of water and it fountained everywhere hilariously.

Lee bets Austin that he couldn’t steal any household appliances even if he wanted to, not even a toaster. (Lee steals a television early in the play.) This results in Austin stealing the entire neighborhood’s toasters and collecting them in their kitchen. (“There’s a lack of toast in the neighborhood this morning!” “You need breakfast... How about some toast?” “I love the smell of toast in the morning... it makes me feel like anything’s possible.”) All of Adam’s toast-related jokes were just killer. :’)

Obviously, Adam always looks stunning in person, but this time the highlight was unquestionably THE HAIR. The lush, long, majestic hair. There was a portion in the play when he knelt down at the front of the stage and put his head down on the floor, and !!!! THAT HEAD OF STUNNING STELLAR HAIR WOW. There was also A LOT of pushing his hair back with his hands and it got me every. single. damn. time. Be still my beating heart. (it never does when Adam’s involved...)

After the play ended, the cast stayed on stage for the Q&A, joined by the Director. Adam facilitated some discussion among the actors on their previous participation in AITAF events, and the differences between acting on stage and in film. Then he opened it up for questions from the audience.

Q&A highlights:

Someone asked how Adam manages to create a sense of intimacy in all his scenes, even when working on big films. The title “King of micro-expressions” was used, asking whether that aspect is intentional. Adam first reacted with his typical “what-me-talented?-crazy” look of skepticism, but then LOL he just bust out into every ridiculous face he could think of, to show off those micro expressions. It was SO PRESH AND FUNNY.

A few questions later, someone asked what advice he would give to his younger self while he was in the Marines, if he had a chance. Adam’s initial joke response was just: “Microexpressions” and everyone lost it.

Okay this was hands down the purest moment! The cast on stage couldn’t really see up into the balcony because of the lights, so at first Adam shaded his eyes and squinted real hard when a woman in the balcony started her question with “Hi Adam, we crossed paths back in Mishawaka a few times.” Then Adam saw who it was, grinned, and told everyone it was his high school drama teacher!! As she then began her question, she suddenly got extremely emotional and I couldn’t see it, but heard in her voice she was already or would shortly start to cry. After a moment she managed to finish her question - Whether the people Adam meets and performs for when he travels to military bases talk to him afterwards to thank him for sharing his talent and the gift of his craft. It made me a little choked up too, not gonna lie, to hear someone who knew and had some role in Adam’s earliest forays into theater, be overcome by seeing how far he’s come and all the manifold ways he puts his singular talent to use to better the world around him.

I ASKED A QUESTION AND I WAS SO CLOSE THAT HE AND I TALKED DIRECTLY TO EACH OTHER, HE LOOKED STRAIGHT AT ME AS HE ANSWERED AND IT WAS LIKE HAPPY FIREWORKS GOING OFF IN MY WHOLE BODY AHHHHHHHH. I asked him about how he’s seen attitudes change towards AITAF’s work throughout its whole 10-year journey, and I’d like to think he appreciated the question for his reflections back to their first performance and how far they’ve come since then. Video here because my friend is amazing!!!!

A SECOND BULLET DEDICATED JUST TO MY AMAZED DISBELIEF THAT ADAM SPOKE TO ME. Like, he responded to words that came out of my mouth and I somehow managed to speak said words while speaking directly to him?? SLAP ME IM DREAMING :’’’D How did I actually manage to keep myself together while in close proximity to him?! Let alone speaking directly to him?!!! I SURPRISE EVEN MYSELF. But then again, Adam seems to make the impossible possible :’)

I frequently watch theater, but tonight was really a thrilling surprise. I KNEW Adam would be stellar, of course, but I didn’t know if any of the play’s power would be lost with it just being performed as a reading. To the contrary, the performance style may have even made it better! There’s a lot of raw, angry energy in this play, and this stripped-down reading was performed with an immediacy and visceral energy I’ve rarely ever seen on stage. The movements weren’t all blocked out and planned; There was no shuffling of people or props on or off stage; There were no protracted pauses or fancy stage effects to build an atmosphere around the actors; They created everything with just their voices, words, and bodies.

I’m so, SO immensely grateful I got to attend tonight, because this might have been even better than seeing Adam in a full play. Tonight was unfiltered and instinctive, Adam just going for it and throwing everything into the part for a solid, uninterrupted 2 hours. It was equally stunning to see him just remove himself from the whole 2-hour buildup of angry tension as he started the Q&A. (Though there was a laugh among the audience when Adam turned to Michael Shannon for the first time in the Q&A, like “sure you guys really don’t want to strangle each other?”)

Tonight was wonderful and wholesome, moving and inspiring from start to finish. From the people I shared the evening with, to the frank dialogues that occurred during the Q&A about negative stigmas sometimes attached to the arts within the military, to testimonials of how AITAF’s programming guided military families into shared engagement with the arts. It was wonderful to hear the military audience around me responding with genuine enthusiasm to Adam’s initial introduction, applauding and voicing agreement. I appreciated the chance to hear Adam speak so candidly and enthusiastically about his passion project; Just as much as I appreciated slapping @reylonly’s leg and whispering “Why are his feet so cute?” and “Look at his HAIR.” :’)

TL;DR TAKEAWAY: Adam is truly insanely talented and his selfless commitment to AITAF’s goal of bringing theater to military audiences as an enhanced outlet of self-expression is so, so admirable. This man is never in it for himself, and only puts himself in center stage when there’s a larger utility for doing so. You could see that tonight, when he’d realize he was the only one answering two or three questions in a row and would look around self-consciously to his fellow cast members and say “I feel like I’m monopolizing the conversation” or “Feel free to stop me anytime... jump in anYTIME, GUYS, ANYTIME.” (<Increasingly anxiously)

SOMEHOW, Adam succeeded in the impossible tonight: Making me love him even more. But perhaps having him gazing right at me as he spoke to me was sure to have that effect :’D

Nope, still have no fucking clue how I managed it or how I survived. :’’’)

#Adam Driver #AITAF #Sorry for the grainy pics but I still wanted to use them #Please feel free to ask me anything at all about the event!#Would love to talk about it moreee : D #Would love to talk about it forever!!#Arts In The Armed Forces #driverdaily

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qdtquietdownthere · 5 years

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Day 11- A day of reflecting in an art gallery and painting, glueing and giggling in the sun.

Day 11

The waking up process, if it can be called a process, is the trickiest part of the residency actually. Waking up in your own bed, in Tottenham, seeing your flatmates, talking about the day ahead. It is a different world. I have to go from that, to the tube, then be in Pimlico. To this new, yet familiar place of comfort. What is the most exhausting is this point of change and transition- waking up in the life you are used to then diving into a day of fresh, exiting, uncertainty. No one really understands whats going on, and no one really wants to listen to me describing every detail of my day. I do not think this is something I would enjoy to do either. It’s lonesome in this sense. A temporary community which no one else is experiencing. That is so special though. I feel useful, like my existence and participation means something.

I am very aware it is ending. Second last day. I am so comfortable now.

I walk around the area following a gentle map. I have walked these streets before. The Thames, the Bridge, the view of brutal Battersea, the tiny parks and the contrasts. There are so many contrasting textures, architecture and people. An area of extreme wealth, and then a definite lack of it. I feel uncomfortable with it at points. In my favourite park which sits just behind Tate Britain I watch a very wealthy man spend half an hour with a puppy trainer and his pedigree puppy. He tells me they have traveled from Devon. There is a visible contrast when you look for it. You can maybe hear it more than you can see it. I hear coffee orders which are 3 minutes long, decaf, soy, skinny milk. At the community centre in Churchill Gardens a cup of tea will always be milk and one sugar. I wonder where I sit in this pool of people, I wonder where other people see me belonging.

CCA is based next to Tate Britain and I try to go in to see the degree show but I am told it ended last week. There aren't many students around, ever. The whole time I have been in Pimlico I haven't noticed anyone who jumped out to me as looking like a student (whatever that means). I guess they have all gone home for summer. Over the past week I have seen a few Chinese students, as I guess flying home at such a high price isn't necessarily an option for international students. I wonder about the loneliness of living in this city when your purpose of being here is to purely be a student. I did my undergraduate at Leeds and it was the loneliest time for me. Sometimes I would walk to town, to the big Boots and back, just to get out, see people and feel like I was a part of what everyone else was doing. I worked all through university but I didn't really hang out with work friends, and with a class size of 10, well, there wasn't much social life going on. I wish I had gone out more, joined societies. Even if they didn't interest me, I should have pushed myself. I was nineteen and maybe I was shy, but I think what kept me being lonely was a reluctancy to say I was lonely to anyone apart from my family and friends who all lived back home in Edinburgh. I think about the mother I met during the babies library session at Victoria Library and how she was frustrated there were no classes on for her thirteen year old son. Kids don't want to look uncool, and I think this can continue for some people into university. There is a pool of opportunity in this pool of young people who are desperate to engage in a world, but scared and uncertain how to. No one whats to stand out from the self conscious crowd of teenagers and there is opportunity in making activities which both work with, and eradicate this.

I walk across the courtyard from CCA and find a different art show; “Observer: John Latham and the Distant Perspective”. Latham’s body of work explores derelict land outside of Edinburgh and was developed from an artist placement with the Scottish Development Agency. The three month long artist residences took place in different locations, from industrial settings such as fishing villages to a residency exploring the mental health care service (https://mapmagazine.co.uk/john-latham-incidental-person). What was the desired outcome of these residencies? Well, the hope was that by involving an artist, “his creative intelligence or imagination can spark off ideas, possibilities and actions” ultimately benefiting development projects in Scotland (Lyddon, 2007). When the committee introducing Latham to the project asked if the artist was going to solve problems, Lyddon replied “No, the artist is going to show us problems we didn't know were there”. In the end, if there is ever an end to a body of work, Latham decided to explore the area in Midlothian from an areal perspective, or ‘from the distance’. It was from this, and through interacting intensely with archival aerial photography from the area, he was able to map out distinctive land features from the shale industry and turn these into a piece of re-conceived monumental, or sculptural work. The act of doing this changes how the public interact with the local landscape. I find the work fascinating and oh so funny to have stumbled into work made in this context during my time doing the residency in Churchill Gardens. I haven't continued to read into the work of Latham, but it has brought up interesting ideas as to how perspectives of place, how history, and fresh eyes can have an impact on how individuals engage with space. I think of how my view of the streets have changed since I began engaging in the area. How the image of a street morphs the more you walk down it. How the build up of memories connected to place erode and evolve as you step away then interact with them again. I am lucky to know these streets now and I get an overwhelming sense to draw them. Once again I'm excited by the power of naming, of bringing into the spotlight, places or people to create a transformative effect on how we engage with them. As I have been unable to draw or make during my time on the residency, I have taken up naming and writing lists of names instead. My diary has one section which includes as many names I can remember from all the people I have interacted with since my time in and around Pimlico and Churchill Gardens. Drawing cements and validates a memory or idea through the act of mark making, and I believe the power of naming and writing these names validates all the connections I have had to people over the course of the two weeks. I have found this at least itches my little creative scratch. Or rather, it scratches my creative itch.

In the afternoon I return to the Thamesbank Centre to volunteer with Shambush as part of the South west festival. With children from the surrounding housing estates, Shambush are holding creative making events in local community centres to try and create a way for children to engage with art and their neighbouring communities. We work to a brief which is to design, paint and glue onto paper ‘solar panels’ these of space, which will later be put together and secured to a huge metal structure and presented as a space shuttle in the gardens of Tate Britain. For each making event a child attends in their local area, they receive a stamp on their ‘space engineer passport’. It is a fantastic idea and I find it so exciting to hear that there is an activity in place to connect these very separate housing estates which tend to never really mix. When speaking to both Shambush and the local children who come to do the making session, it is apparent that Tate Britain is another world to this community. Im not surprised. It is a twenty minute walk away, yet completely inaccessible as a cultural engagement. This is sad but a very real reality. Fine art is most easily digested by those with the confidence to enter into the gallery space and those with the education to understand how to interact with it.

The kids are wonderful and messy and giggly and I laugh a lot with two girls in particular. We are silly and happy and I feel in my element. I feel so lucky to be in this space making with such interesting and wonderful kids. A group of boys come over and make maths themed solar panels. One boy manages to name every dwarf planet in our solar system and I feel very stupid when I talk about the ‘fire hurricanes on Venus’ (he probably knows the scientific latin name for them). Its so great how the space works. We are outside, the sun is shining, kids come and go and there is a real sense that we are in the heart of the community. We are on Peabody estate on Tachbrook Avenue so the street is lined by beautiful tall flats. In its centre is the park which is connected to the community centre, so every flat can watch down on us. I speak to one boy who is in year 5 and he says because of the park he has lots of friends who are older and younger than him. It is a place for all ages.

Throughout the day only two parents come and talk to us and engage with the activities. Its a shame because so often it is the parents who are cautious and scared to venture out and try new things, and go new places which ultimately gets passed down to the kids. When we age we tend to view creativity as something that we have or we don't have. The older we get the more we become aware that we can or cannot draw. The older we get the more we isolate ourselves from activities and places we don't feel comfortable, or that accentuate the fact we cant draw, or paint or act. The kids seem to want to come to Tate when we tell them their work will be shown there, but unfortunately that isn't enough, it is about the parents. Pimlico toy library was great for this, and Shelia was really passionate that she was creating a space which was confidence building for parents. This is vital.

The children power through the activities and start getting a little bored. I suggest making some space themed origami fortune tellers. Im worried that maybe I should have asked before doing this but Shambush are lovely and energetic about getting stuck in and keeping busy. The kids seem to love it and I get a real sense of right. I don't really know how to describe it. I feel in my element. This is huge for me and something which means the world when you're at the start of a career as a young artist who is still trying to find her feet. I wouldn't have had the means to experience bringing ideas to a children's art session before this and I feel so lucky that I am in this position. I feel validated that it is met with so much enthusiasm.

The afternoon wizzes past. The father of the two girls who I had spent a lot of time with is brought down by his carer to go to the park. From the top floor flat their mother calls them up to go and help with caring for the neighbours. They give me lots of cuddles goodbye and run off with hands covered in glue and crisps. I cant help but think about what a potentially tricky life they must have, but how wonderful and giggly they are. I wish I could meet their mother and tell her how great they have been. How great all the kids have been. I leave and have a little cry down the phone to my friend because I'm so sad it has ended. It felt pivotal for me as just me, as someone who is unsure of my next steps, of what areas of work I would like to pursue. It is because of this afternoon, and because of this residency that I have been given this opportunity and this space to gain confidence and experience in wonderful exciting and giggle fuelled roles.

Today is one of the best days I have had. Volunteering gives the residency a whole new level as i feel I'm working as part of a service which is effecting change. This is something I have a growing need to do. Its a wonderful thing that these two great volunteering opportunities with Shambush and the food distribution with Mike happened on my last few days. I feel I am more ready for them at this stage. I think about the residency ending, but on a larger scale, I think about goodbyes. I am not very good at them. I am home and I'm writing lots, I will have vegetable ratatouille for tea and I am going to have a gin and tonic too, because the sun is shining and I am happy. Big day tomorrow. Sad day. Big day. Last day.

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gamegrumpiess · 5 years

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Dont Forget About Me PART 2

Hey guysss!!! I kept my promise and gave you a part two of Don't Forget About Me. Buckle up and sit back because there's a lot in this one.

Y/l/n -> your last name

Danny x reader

Warnings? Nah

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FLASHBACK TO 2015

Y/n’s POV

After I graduated, I ended up moving to California to pursue my voice acting career. But as it turns out, it's much harder than it seems. Not a lot of opportunities pops up right away for an inexperienced voice actress. So I ended up working in a rocker clothing store down the street from my apartment. It actually pays really well and my coworkers are nice as well as my boss.

Today is one of those rare days where it's really fucking slow. There has been no more than five customers all day. That is until four new customers walked in. Three boys and one girl, (looking really no older than me) all laughing and making jokes while walking around, checking out the items. I didn't mind them being kind of loud, it was a nice refresher from the constant heavy metal they play on the radio here. I love rock and roll as much as a coke head loves drugs, but when you listen to the music constantly every day it's nice to take a break.

The female, somewhat shorter than all the boys with long dark purple hair and having a rocking attitude, came up to me. “I love your style! Do you get a discount on all the dope stuff here?” Her voice was a little rough, like she just got over a cold, but still sounded like silk when she spoke. “Dude, rad hair! Is blue your favorite color too?” The tallest boy with long dreadlocks and somewhat smudged eyeliner, wearing a lot of spikes and leather all around his body. He commented on my dark blue hair I just dyed a few days ago. It was nice refresher from my usual h/c.

All four of them looked at my style in awe with wide eyes. “We’re in a band, how would you like to come see how we sound? I'm Tyler, I play the drums.” Tyler points to the tall boy with dreads. “That's Jason. He's lead guitar.” Dreads, who I now know as Jason, walks up to me and shakes my hand. “And then this is Maxwell, the bass guitarist. But we all like to call him Blade.” My curiosity peeked up. “Why do you guys call him Blade?” Blade comes up to me and shows me his switchblade, perfectly sharpened and shiny. It looks like you could cut yourself just by looking at it for too long. “I carry this with me at all times. Never know what kind of crazy people are doing now-a-days.” He explains to me. Finally, the girl speaks up to me. “I'm Claudia. I'm the girl who does all the screamo in the band because I can't sing for shit.” She says with a cute smile on her face. None of them look any older than me, but I guess no one can really be sure.

“I'd love to check you guys out. What's the name of your band?” Tyler perks up, “It's called Toxic Nightmare! We made it when we were all in high school. We've been struggling to really get our music out there, and we have a pretty decent big fan-base, but we always wanna do better. So it would mean a lot to us if you gave us your opinion?” I nodded with a smile. “I'm down! My shift ends in about 20 minutes, would you guys be willing to wait until then and I can tell you guys then?” They all nodded in agreement. Little did I know, that would be the day when my life got way better.

BACK TO PRESENT 2018

That same day, we all went to their rehearsal area so I could hear them play. Although I did like the way Claudia sounded since she put so much passion and emotions into her screaming, I thought it could use some actual singing. Sadly none of them knew anyone who knew how to sing, so Claudia had the idea to have me try and sing. Turns out, my singing voice with her screaming sounds really awesome. Next thing I knew, I was officially part of Toxic Nightmare as the new lead singer. All of us have grown insanely close. I really consider Tyler, Jason, Blade, and Claudia as my family.

Since i've joined TN, we've really blown up in terms of getting our music out there in the world. It feels like so long since I've met them, as if I've been with them my entire life. My mom and step dad enjoy my music, which is insane considering they're devoted Christians. Jacob, now that he's older says him and his friends listen to our music as well.

I hear my phone ringing, my mother's specific ringtone I put for her a year ago. Her favorite song she dedicated to me when I was 7.

"Helloooo?" I hear movement, and then my mother's voice through the microphone. "Y/n!! How are you, my daughter? What time is your flight?" I smile to myself, thinking how I can't wait to spend the holidays with my family. Well, the ones that care about me anyway. My biological fathers side of the family disowned me after they found out what I do for a living now. And most of my mom's side of the family doesn't really talk to me as much anymore. "I'll be there by tomorrow at 8:00 in the morning." I fill her in on all that's happened this week. We have a new tour coming up in 2019, all around America. We also made sure that our last stop in the tour is in New Jersey, so my brother can come to our concert since itd be close to his birthday. "Oh! Y/n, Debra and Avi are going to spend the holidays with us! Daniel is coming here as well. Have you talked to him at all?"

I shake my head, somewhat forgetting she can't see me. "In all honesty, mom, no. I've tried to contact him a lot, but his number changed and I really don't want to go asking Avi and Debbie his number. I feel like that's kinda creepy." She takes a bite out of her food before answering. "Well at least you'll see him soon, you can catch up with him then," I hear yelling and movement in the background. "Okay hun, your brother and his girlfriend is here, I'll talk to you soon! Much love to the others."

She hangs up the phone and I sit there for a few more minutes. Dan's gonna be there. I'll get to see him after all these years. The last time I saw him was so long ago, I think about three years on the fourth of July. We talked for a bit, his girlfriend at the time took a dislike to me the minute she saw me, so I didn't have much time to talk to him. I know he's finally living the dream he's always had, and I'm more than proud of what he's doing. I listen to music during the times when I have a breather, which is pretty rare since I'm part of TN. Now that I think really hard about Dan, I remember how much I liked him when I was younger. All those years ago having this huge crush on his lanky, dorky self. Before my mind can go any farther, I force myself to go finish packing everything I need to go for the next two weeks. I hope and pray everything goes well, Im excited to see Avi and Debbie, and Dana, and Dan.. focus, y/n. You'll have time to daydream on the plane.

DAN

"I appreciate you picking my up from the airport, Mrs y/l/n. I thought it'd be a nice surprise to my parents for the holidays." She shakes her hand at me with a smile on her face. "I don't mind, son. You know I consider you part of the family. I have to pick up y/n at the airport tomorrow morning too." My head shoots up at the mention of her name. "Y/n's coming?" She raises an eyebrow and gives a small smirk. "Well yes. She took some time off to come here. Her last time off before her big tour coming up. She's been working so hard, I'm glad she's taking a break. Especially with us." I nod my head, slowly zoning out and daydreaming about seeing her again.

Before I know it, we're home. I thank Mrs y l n once again and give her hug before making my way back to my house, which is still across the street.

TOMORROW MORNING

I wake up at 7, which is insanely early for me. Mrs y l n should be leaving to pick y n up soon. I can't stress how proud I am of her. Toxic Nightmare is one of my favorite bands. I even showed Arin and Brian some of there songs. Y n's voice is like heaven, and her band mates are all super talented. Everytime I have a chance I listen to their songs, watch their music videos, I've even seen some interviews they've done. (Only real true fans know that her and I were really close back in the day.) She's grown into a beautiful woman, amazing voice, beautiful body, a hard-working mindset. In all honesty I've grown to be a fanboy for her. She's funny, too. She's been featured in several YouTubers videos and she's made me laugh each time. Arin likes to tease me about my little crush on her. But trust me, I can't be blamed. She's practically my dream woman.

I've zoned out so much, I didn't realize Mrs y l n getting in her car and driving away. She's told me she sees me and y n getting together. I mean, I wouldn't mind that. These two weeks are gonna be a hell of a ride...

TO BE CONTINUED ONCE AGAIN

#dan x reader #danxreader #dan avidan #dan avidan x reader #dan avidan/you #dan avidan/reader #danny sexbang x reader

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lovely-littleletters · 3 years

Text

Love & War in Your Twenties

Chapter 2: Turtle

Hey guys, second chapter! also if you guys want, I also post on ao3. Please let me know what y’all think!

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Na-yeon-unnie, how are you liking the campus so far?” Momo asked, her black hair sitting prettily on her shoulders.

Na-yeon was stumped, should she answer truthfully or fabricate the situation a bit? She honestly enjoyed the campus, but it was nothing compared to Yonsei, not necessarily bad but she knew she felt the tangible difference.

“It’s good, I like Professor. Yoon, she leads a good design department.” Let’s stick with the gentle answer. She felt three pair of eyes curiously watch her, suddenly feeling the back of her neck heat with the unwanted attention.

“Well that’s good!” Sana exclaimed, twirling her fingers together. “We’re so glad Jihyo introduced you to us, you’re so pretty, Unnie” the small nosed Japanese girl’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Are you going to join us at Hoseok’s party?” Jihyo wondered, scanning and highlighting her notes from her previous lecture.

“Um, depending on who Hoseok is.” Na-yeon wondered aloud, she didn’t expect to have this many new friends when she transferred schools. She felt as if she was hearing of and meeting a new person every other hour here at University of Seoul.

“It’s Yoongi’s friend, they knew each other from high school. Hoseok is a year younger than Yoongi, he’s a senior like us.” The large eyed girl informed.

“Um, you’re forgetting the best part!” Jeongyeon exclaimed, slamming her hands on the table. “He’s disgustingly rich!” She gave a sly grin to the table of girls, rubbing her pointer and thumb together to signal money.

Na-yeon chuckled to herself, shaking her head as the group of girls fawned over said man. Honestly, one thing she was missing from her old school was a core set of girlfriends to bond with. She only met these girls two weeks ago and she felt closer to them than she did her own cousins.

“Yes, he’s rich.” Jihyo muttered with a playful roll of her eyes. “I also think Seokjin will be there, at least Yoongi will probably drag him there.” She laughed, eyes going soft and then slightly hardened at the mention of her boyfriends name.

Hmm, I wonder what that was about?

“I mean I guess so, I don’t see how it would hurt to see what a rich boys party would look like,” Na-yeon teased, stomach slightly turning from just the thought of a huge function like that.

Seokjin, she had heard that name yesterday when she had met Yoongi for the first time. She remembers Jihyo mentioning he was his roommate along with how he might as well be married to him.

“Oooh, Seokjin-Oppa is so attractive.” Sana started, face melting into a dreamy look.

“Yeah! His shoulders could knock over the strongest man.”

“His lips always look so hydrated and plump... I wish mine looked like that.”

Oh wow, whoever this Seokjin guy is, he must’ve done something amazing in a past life to be this blessed. But like Na-yeon is aware of, most guys who have the charms of a miracle man have the slithering deception of a snake.

“Yah, he has broad shoulders and full lips. He didn’t cure cancer, let’s calm down and not act like absolute animals.” Jihyo quipped, slamming shut her notebooks and piling them up into her arms.

“Jihyo- unnie is no fun.” Sana whispered sneakily to Na-yeon. Yelping as Jihyo reached over and smacked Sana square in the forehead. Looking around the group of girls that laughed and joked with each other. Na-yeon definitely thinks she can make new memories here.

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“Ahh, but Hyunnnggg you have to come!” Jungkook whined, arms flailing as he gripped onto Seokjin’s sleeve. Two year olds behave better than this kid, aish.

“Yah! Jungkook-ah! Why do you keep hanging off my arm like a monkey. I already told you I would go to Hoseok’s party.” Seokjin yelled at the twenty-two year old.

Jungkook’s childish fit came to a halt, eyes widening, joyful then slightly confused.

“You will? Then why did Yoongi-hyung tell me to convince you to come?” Jungkook wondered, pointer finger help under hip bottom lip where his little mole would be.

Slamming his head onto his textbook with a thud, “he probably told you to convince me because he probably thought by now I would have bailed. I think he’s trying to set me up with Jihyo’s friend.” Seokjin finished, headache steadily coming back to the surface.

“Ohhhh, but wouldn’t you want to be set up? I mean… you’re not getting any younger hyung.” The bunny toothed boy teased, tensing his arms as Seokjin landed a heavy punch onto his bicep. Bunny teeth.

“Brat! Im not old. I’m wise and will kick your ass no doubt!” He threatened, puffing his chest out in a mock fighting stance.

“Plus, I don’t even know if I would want to. Yoongi said she reminded him of you, she has the same bunny teeth like you do.” Jin bared his own teeth. Jungkook only blinked once, eyes going dreamy and soft. He held his hands up together by his face, lids blinking rapidly.

“Oh hyung, are you trying to confess your love to me?” Jungkook said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

“Jeon Jungkook, please don’t make me throw up. Todays the first day I was able to actually sit down and eat a breakfast, not trying to spoil it.” Seokjin deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the maknae. Jungkook laughed, grabbing a pen and drawing on Jin’s journal.

First, a half oval shape with four little circles at the bottom. Finishing with a long neck and head.

“Well Jin-hyung, if were bunnies, then considering your long neck and slow reflexes, you might at well be a turtle.” He teased, jumping from his seat as Jin lunged at him. The pair causing eyes around the library to give them dirty looks as they playfully ran around.

———————————————————

Seokjin was social, he loved people and he loved to be the center of attention at most times. But something about tonight made his stomach churn as he looked over himself in his mirror. His hair had grown past his nape, framing his slim face. A cream v-neck sweater with red trim covered his torso, a plain white t-shirt underneath. Finished off with his black jeans and white converse.

He wasn’t too sure if It was the knowledge that he might have someone waiting for him at the party that made his nerves feel fried. One thing for sure is that he would need a good couple of drinks to make himself relax.

“Hyung are you ready? Jihyo said she was going to be there any minute and I don’t want to keep her waiting…” Yoongi trailed off as he walked into Jin’s bedroom. A long, drawn out whistle coming from his roommate as he gave him a once over.

“Wow, looking good for anyone special?” Yoongi’s gummy smile coming into full view as he grinned at Jin, fingers coming out to poke Seokjin around his stomach.

“Yah! I can still back out!” Seokjin threatened, dodging Yoongi’s bony fingers. Checking his wallet and phone was in his pocket, glancing over himself multiple times nervously.

“Seokjin-hyung, don’t worry. You’ll do fine.” Yoongi reassured, patting him on the back.

Jin wouldn’t say he was completely out of the dating field, but it had been a good several months since he last was in a relationship (not sure if you could call it that, a fling maybe.) But who was he to assume this woman would even want him? Jin wasn’t necessarily of fan of serial dating, it felt exhausting and too much like he kept breaking off pieces of himself and leaving it with woman who could care less.

But he loved, love.

He’s loved, love since he was five and swore he met the love of his life on the playground during one of his moms playdates. Her name was Song Jun and she always shared her plastic apples with him. Love knew no other than a child’s love for plastic fruit.

Or maybe when he was thirteen and was hitting puberty for the first time, his arms were gangly and his facial hair didn’t know if it wanted to commit to his face. He used to watch k-dramas religiously or at least long enough until his mom threatened to shut it off unless he fixed his posture.

He watched the actors on screen slowly grow into their love, the female lead with long legs and a short bob clinging onto the male lead as they professed their love to one another. Cherry blossoms, a staple in K-dramas of course, blew around them as they kissed.

From then Seokjin knew he wanted to experience a love like that. Sweet, passionate, and a little predictable, but at least it would be love that you could tell for ages.

So of course know he knew as he stared at his outfit, of course this girl might not want him. That wouldn’t stop him from putting his leg out in the hope of finding someone to love.

“I think I’m about ready, let’s head out.” Seokjin huffed out one last time, switching off his lights and closing the door.

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“Chaeyoung-ah! Let’s go dance!” Momo yelled over the thumping bass, eyes slightly heavy from the three shots she took during truth or dare. Chaeyoung flips her hair, skirt rising as she gets up from the couch, twirling Momo around onto the makeshift dance floor.

Na-yeon uncomfortably shifted between her feet, gripping the red solo cup in her hand. She liked social occasions, she also liked them a lot more when she knew more than half the people there.

Arms draping around her neck, she quickly turned ready to shove whoever’s arms were around her. Wide eyes stared back, sighing in relief when she realized it was just Jihyo.

“Nay, what are you doing? You don’t look like you’re having much fun?” Jihyo worried, spinning around to sit on the arm of the couch next to Na-yeon. Her curvy body snugly squeezed into a short, off the shoulder black body con dress.

“No I like it, I just don’t know many people.” Jihyo surprisingly sprung to her feet. “Oh my god, I’m so dumb of course. Im sorry Nay.” She wrapped her arms around Na-yeon’s waist, she could smell the alcohol with Jihyo’s face so close to her.

“Let me introduce you to Dahyun, she’s also in our group of friends.” Jihyo excitedly said, grabbing Na-yeon’s hand and dragging her through the kitchen and to the back patio.

There she saw a group of people three guys and four girls. As they got closer she spotted Jeongyeon and Sana, along with two other girls, one with long wavy dark brown hair, the other with ashy brown hair.

“Guys!” Jihyo waved, slighting bouncing as she led Na-yeon over. “You know Sana and Jeongyeon.” The two girls waved excitedly.

“Na-yeon, this is Namjoon, he works with Yoongi on the side with some music.” She gestured to the tall, dimply man. Glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, Ashy blond hair curling under his nape and around his ears.

“Hi, nice to meet you” He smiled, wow, deep voice. Na-yeon felt the tips of her ears heat and she gazed at the man, his smile making her melt a little.

“This is Dahyun, she’s also in my education major.” The dark brown haired girl turned, eyes soft and skin so pale, Nayeon smiled sweetly, nodding her head in greeting.

“And this is her boyfriend, Jimin.” An equally soft, mocha looking guy greeted her. Dark blond hair, parted in the middle. They had to be the sweetest looking pair.

"Then we have Mina, She's also a transfer student from Japan like Sana and Momo." The ashy brown haired girl waved shyly.

“Last but not least, this is Hoseok, this is his house.”

A man with the brightest smile looked at her, eyes crinkling as he laughed out a greeting.

“Nice, to meet you all. Thank you for the invite and I hope we all get along.” Na-yeon replied, twitching her fingers at her side.

“Oh she’s so sweet!” Hoseok exclaimed, giggling behind his cup. “Take a seat, Na-yeon” He gestured to the space next to Sana.

Na-yeon and Jihyo situated themselves comfortably in the group.

“So Na-yeon, how do you like UOS?” Namjoon inquired, leaning his arms on his knees. Curiously scanning over Na-yeon’s face.

“ I like it, the programs are good and the staff and students are pretty nice.” She nodded, sipping at her drink. “Hey, Jihyo said you had boys falling over you back in high school?” Jeongyeon prodded, smiling mischievously behind Sana’s shoulder. Everyone around them whistled and hooted, oohing and awing. Na-yeon felt her cheeks blush, waving her hand around.

“No, no, no! I wouldn’t say it was quite like that.” She laughed out, “Jihyo was the one who had a boy cry over her because she declined his date.” She jabbed back jokingly, laughing at the way Jihyo gaped. The grouping laughing even louder at Jihyo wagging her finger at Na-yeon.

“Who declined who’s date?” A deep voice questioned form the corner. The small man walking over to the group, beanie fit over his head and a flannel covering his ripped jeans.

“Oppa! You’re finally here.” Jihyo yipped excitedly, and then dead panning as she glanced at her watch. Yoongi chuckled, leaning over to her to peck a quick kiss on her lips. Shaking hands and nodding as he greeted the other party goers.

“You know, Seokjin he always likes to be fashionably late.” He sat next to Jihyo, wrapping his arms around her waist, laying his head in the crook of her neck.

“Well its no party if Jin wasn’t making a statement with his handsomeness.” Jimin laughed, hands playing with Dahyun’s.

“Yah! Punks who said I was making a statement, I’m this handsome all the time!” A loud, squawky voice cut through the night air. All eyes turning to the new guest who was walking in, cup already in hand. Na-yeon peered curiously to the tall figure approaching. His legs, his waist, his shoulders, his lips… This had to be the Seokjin the girls were talking about. She got it, she understood why the girls were fawning like they were. Because this had to be the most beautiful man she had ever seen. She felt her breath stop short in her chest as she gazed at him, his eyes crinkling as he greeted his friends, stopping and widening slightly as they stopped on her.

“Jin-hyung, this is Na-yeon. Jihyo’s friend I was telling you about.” Yoongi said, muffling his smirk in Jihyo’s hair as he glanced at the two…

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thewondersofsmut · 7 years

Text

Wars

Summary: "War is war, it's the reality of it."

Pairing: Damon x Reader

Warnings: swearing, deaths

Word Count: 1993

This fic tackles two major topics rather than how I intended for it to be but hopefully you guys enjoy it!

(gifs not mine, credits to owners)

"I'm trying to explain! I'm not yelling at you, you just wouldn't listen!" He argued. "You're raising your voice and you're telling me that you're not yelling at me?!" You argued back. "Like you listen to me too?!" You added. "No one ever listens to me and all you fucking do is give me attitude." He said. "Well, if you actually let me explain shit rather than assume–" "Oh, babe, you do that shit too! And don't even bother denying it–" "I'm so done." You muttered. "So you're done with this relationship–" "No, I'm done with how you're always fucking acting." You expressed, walking away and into your bedroom. You hid yourself under the covers, something you tend to do, not letting tears slip down your face, but nevertheless it did. Damon closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, deeply sighing. He hated arguing with you yet it was unavoidable. He clashed so much with you sometimes he wondered why you were still here after all those arguments.

He walked towards the bedroom fully knowing you'd be crying under the covers. "Please don't cover yourself." He nicely asked. "It's not good for you." He added. He sighed sitting close to you only for you to push yourself further away from him. "Please come here." He asked softly. You wouldn't budge and your stubbornness prevails. "I don't want to hurt you." He added. You clenched your jaw. Tears slipping down the side of your face. He gently yet strongly pulled you to his side, almost cradling you in his arms. He uncovered your face and hurt flashed across his face, he didn't like seeing you in this state. "I'm sorry baby." He whispered, kissing the side of your head. He wiped your tears off your face and faced you to him. "I'm sorry too." You whispered. He kissed your forehead and hugged you tight. "I love you." You whispered. Three soft words that somehow, even after being together for 73 years, makes him smile. "I love you too." He whispered back.

June 1944

"Each path we take often leads to something greater, and that 'greater' was you two finding each other in a world taken under chaos, where war is prominent, your love stands out the most." This day was special but also shattering; it was your wedding day and the end of your human days, your first day to eternity. In your family's eyes, you had died aiding for the war, which you did, and therefore, only Stefan, Damon's brother, and Alexia, their, and now your friend to see the day you and Damon tie the knot. "Do you take this woman as your wife, to care for her in the years to come?" The pastor asked Damon. "I do." "And do you take this man as your husband, to tend to him for the years to come?" "I do." You smiled as did Damon, a few tears slipping down his face. "I now pronounce you, husband and wife." The pastor cheered. Damon softly took your face in his hand, kissing you with passion. "I love you." You whispered, making his smile wide. "And I love you too." He whispered back.

"Cheers, my brother." Stefan started, lifting up his mug. Damon smiled and lifted his mug as well. "To a wonderful wedding." Stefan cheered. "And to my death." You silently, grievingly muttered, fully knowing they would hear it either way. Damon looked at you, hurt flashing through his eyes. Everyone fell silent and Damon looked at you. "I'm sorry." He said. "At least I saved people." You said. "And you're here now, (y/n)." Alexia added, putting her hand on top of yours. "My little siblings, I won't get to see them anymore. My brothers, blaming themselves over my death, to follow them to war–" "War is war, (y/n/n), it's the reality of it." Stefan said. "I want to see them one more time." You said. Damon looked at you. "They cannot know." He said. "Can't we compel them, at least let them remember a more peaceful death than simply losing me from war, something greater, something they will even include you." You said. He nodded, a small smile on his face. "For now, lets celebrate your wedding." Stefan said, rubbing your shoulder. You slightly smiled but nodded, letting the good thoughts sink in.

Amidst your transitioning, looking over your family from a far, war once again took a member of your family. You saw the people who had told your family of your death at the front steps. You were breathing heavily, trying not to think so bad, that your brothers or father is just merely injured, just to tell your mother that they are fine and that they can see them now, but that wasn't the case. "I'm sorry, Mrs. (y/l/n)." Your mother stood her ground, looking stronger than ever, not letting her guard down, not while she grieves over your death. "Whom did I lose this time?" She asked. There was bitterness to her voice, almost like anger. You can hear your younger sister and younger brother playing inside, lucky to not be aware, to not understand the situation. "It's your husband and your second son." The man whispered. You heard her swallow, to take in the information. You looked at Damon and he held you strong as you cried, punching the tree, hurting yourself. In the corner of your eye, you saw your mother broke down in front of the officers, them tending to her like Damon is to you. You wanted to comfort her, to lessen her pain, but you knew it wasn't right.

"I should've been there!" You said to Damon. "Feed them my blood, give them another chance to live!" You cried. "Turning them to vampires is not giving them another chance!" Damon said. You didn't want to accept it but you knew he was right, you knew deep down, it was a burden knowing your family is going to grow old unlike you. "I want to hug her." You whispered. "I just want to tell her everything is going to be fine." You asked Damon. Pain was evident in your cries and giving you this opportunity is lessening the chance of you turning your humanity off. "I will go with you. Let me compel her first." He said and you nodded.

"(Y/n)?" She asked once she saw you. "I thought you were aiding." She said, hugging you tight. "I was." You whispered. "Your father and your brother–" "I heard." She cried into your arms as you did to hers. "Everything is going to be fine. Dean is going to take care of you and the little ones." You cried. You closed your eyes and looked at Damon. You hugged and kissed and said your last goodbyes to your younger siblings. You then looked at your mother and kissed her forehead. "I love you." You said and she smiled sadly. "I always will love you my dearest." She whispered. You looked into her eyes and sighed, your eyes dilating. "You will never remember me being here, this was all a dream. Sam, father, and I are at peace now, and soon you will be fine too." You compelled. After kissing her head one more time, you swiftly left with Damon, face wet from tears.

"I want to go." You whispered. Damon looked at you questioningly. "What do you mean?" He asked. "Europe?" You asked. "Why?" He asked, his voice ringing a little stronger. You gave a humorless laugh. "Either you take me away from here to forget or I turn it off." You said and he hit the breaks abruptly. "This is not some joke, (y/n). Your humanity is all you have left." He said, looking at you dead in the eye. "And this is not something I can handle! My family is gone! I'm gone!" You said, crying once again. "The taste of feeling nothing is so sweet at this point." "And you would put down your feelings towards me?!" He asked, hurt almost slapping him. "This is not about you!" "Your humanity is towards everything, not just your family but everyone and everything around you, and that includes me!" He argued. "Well, you're being selfish and insensitive right now!" "So what if I am?! I'm not the only one going to be affected with it! You think not caring about your family is better, you're the one who's selfish!" He exclaimed.

You closed your eyes and breathed, not doing anything but trying to calm yourself down', silently crying. "I'm sorry for saying that." You whispered. He faced you to him, wiping the tears on your face. "I understand you, princess. But never ever threaten to turn it off." He whispered, kissing your forehead. "We can go first thing tom." He said and you nodded.

"Remember when we went to Italy?" He asked, stroking your arm. "When my brother and my father died?" You asked and he softly nodded. "That was the first big argument we had after getting married." He said and you nodded. "But you were so strong. I wouldn't have been so surprised if you turned it off." He reminisced. "I don't know what you would have done to make me turn it back on." You said. "What would you have done?" You asked. "Some things are better off that you don't know." He said. "Im sorry we fought on our anniversary." You whispered. He kissed your temple. "Do you want to visit the cemetery next week?" He asked. "It's been a few years since you came back to your home town." He added. "True. I guess we can make a day trip there." You said, smiling up at him. "There's that smile." He said, tangling your hands with his, playing with the ring he gave you the same day, 73 years ago.

The drive there wasn't too long since it was Damon driving but other than that, the odd thing you noticed was the two people standing and looking down at you parents' grave, along with Sam's, and then Dean's, the last you visited. You walked towards them and your eyes grew wide. "Why hello there." The lady greeted. "Do you know our parents?" The man asked. You were speechless, tears brimming your eyes. Damon looked at you in realization to who they were. "They were my grandfather's friend back in the war." Damon said. "Charlene, Robert?" You spoke, looking at them in awe. They were still alive and well, visiting your and their parents and brothers. "Yes, dear." Charlene said. You went into their arms and hugged them, they were just toddlers when you left. Without hesitation, they hugged you back, just as lovingly as you did to them.

"You remind me of our sister." Robert said. You smiled and then looked at your gravestone. "My grandfather told me that, he liked her before." You said. "And if I could find photos of her with mother you would really be shocked." She said and you smiled. Damon looked at you, seeing new kind of happiness he hasn't seen in you before. "It's best we go, my sister." Robert said. "It's nice meeting you, dear. Until we see each other again." Charlene said. When they left you knelt in front of the gravestones. "They're okay." You whispered. "My little twins." You added. "I'm so happy for you." Damon whispered, lovingly placing his hand on the back of your neck. "Thank you for bringing me here." You said, looking up at him. "You deserve the best, my love, absolutely anything for you." He said. You stood up and kissed him. "I wouldn't want anyone else but you, even with all the wars we fight everyday." You said. He kissed your forehead, holding your hand softly as you thought and reminisced your days with your family and being thankful for the family you have now.

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore x reader #damon x reader #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore fanfic #damon salvatore one shot #damon salvatore angst #damon salvatore fluff #tvd fanfic #tvd fanfiction #tvd one shot #tvd angst #tvd fluff

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sidewalkscienceguy · 7 years

Text

Representation Matters. And recently, I learned that one of the characters in my books is having a real impact on real people.

For the sake of privacy, I’m not going to tag any specific individuals I spoke with in this post, but this is a true story about how a character with autism in my books has affected people with autism in the real world.

When I began writing Embassy back in 2013, as I’ve said many times, the story/plot were extremely different than they are now. Most of the characters were the same, but they had different roles, and I included many characters just for the sake of including them, as I still wasn’t completely serious nor as dedicated to this series as I am today, January 5th, exactly four years since I began writing Embassy.

But as I completed more drafts of Embassy, and as I experienced various changes in my life (my most life-changing events were yet to come), I came to realize I didn’t want Embassy to be the book it started out being. I wanted it to be something deeper, playing more to the emotions and personal journeys of the characters instead of the outside plots. My purpose for writing Embassy changed. Suddenly there was a dream behind it, a message that would carry on through the unintended sequel, Resonance, and now Perihelid, the final arc of Arman Lance’s emotional journey (and the conclusion of the main themes of the first three books in the series).

Even with this more-intentional purpose shining through all the way to publication, and through the writing and publication of Resonance, too, there were still elements and characters that began to become more and more relevant to the story overall. And, recently, it has been brought to my attention that one of the still-minor characters has been having an incredible effect on some readers of my books that I didn’t quite anticipate: John Mistin.

For anyone familiar with my books, John Mistin is the older brother of Ellin Mistin, and both of them were recruited to the Embassy Program at the same time as Arman Lance (the MC) from their hometown of Cornell, on the planet Undil.

John is a socially-awkward, overly-enthusiastic guy who will give you his unwavering friendship if you so much as let him speak to you. “Hi, I’m John!” followed by a hard handshake is his signature greeting to every new person he meets. He has a form of aphasia, which is sort of similar to dyslexia, but instead of messing up spellings and being unable to read certain words/fonts, he instead routinely confuses complicated words, and Ellin is constantly correcting his mistakes. He’s aware of his aphasia, and he touts his younger sister as “my favorite dictionary.”

John has an “eidetic memory,” that is, an incredible photographic memory that allows him to vividly recall visual-spatial patterns. His life’s dream in the Embassy Program is to become a cartographer and make maps of every city, asteroid field, and planet in the Program, even venturing out on long-duration deep-space missions to map the galaxy with the Undil Embassy’s Horizon Tower. He’s an extremely quick learner with the latest cartographic technology, and is pioneering mapmaking through neuro-optical holography, where he literally creates maps by picturing them in his head and translating them into a 3D space.

He is committed to friendship. His sister, Ellin, is his best friend, and when she’s hurting, all he wants to do is comfort her. He can’t really tell when other people are uncomfortable around him, though, as we see through Arman’s eyes, Arman is at first very apprehensive about being around John, because he just doesn’t know how to “handle” being around him. Fortunately, Ellin is usually there to calm John down when he gets too excited.

I’m describing all of this because yes, John is autistic.

He’s not a main character, and we haven’t seen too much of him yet (proportionately, at least), but he takes control of the scenes he’s in. He’s a very visible character.

This is so, so, so important.

The other day, one of my followers who has read my books messaged me asking if she could ask a question about a certain character. Her question was non-specific, simply, “I don’t know if this was intentional on your part, but what’s the deal with John?”

When I told her that he’s on the autism spectrum, she was thrilled. Like, absolutely thrilled. And she told me that that’s what she thought, but she wasn’t sure if I had meant to write him like that, because the thing with John is that he sticks out from the rest of the cast. And while I’ve written other, less-visible characters in the series, John is the one I’ve paid special attention to because his role in the rest of the series is incredibly important.

The follower went on to tell me that many of her siblings have autism, and that her brother was asking her about my book, particularly about John. And when she told her brother that John was indeed autistic, her brother got really excited, too. Here’s portions of her responses telling me all of this, verbatim:

“You have...no idea how incredibly happy I am right now. Holy shit. I’M- That’s literally exactly what I was- The fact that he is intentionally- AHH. It’s so rare for autistic people to be represented and then- This is something really important to me because most of my siblings are on the spectrum actually.......

“I’ve grown up surrounded by areas of the spectrum and so I recognized that behavior and the fact that it was intentional I’m so freaking happy. Also, Ellin and John’s dynamic reminded me a lot of my own with a lot of my siblings. SO ANYWAYS THAT WAS PROBABLY MORE THAN YOU WANTED TO KNOW BUT YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH MY RESPECT FOR YOU JUST ROCKETED....

“You’ve got this utopian-ish universe and there’s characters who are autistic and bi and- It means a lot to me. But I’ve been planning on rereading Embassy and Resonance so I’ll make sure to try to pay more attention to those scenes!......

“And honestly, it’s so important to listen to anyone really, but especially someone with autism bc a lot of people will tell them to shut up instead(I’ll fight people I swear), but it’s also just-the excitement and happiness they get when talking about something they love and actually having someone listen- it’s so great. And yes! So many people look down at people with autism and it’s so- Like all of my siblings and anyone else I know are pretty high-functioning........I mean one brother, he has these intricate worlds in his head and, literally, he can put them all on paper exactly and is just-he’s so talented with art and he’s so passionate and his style is so specific to im and ahhh..........

“OH and I meant to tell you. Last night I was talking to one of my brothers and earlier someone had been telling him about how some people won’t let autistic people do things and he was really frustrated over people being ignorant and judgmental basically, and I told him about how there was a character [in Embassy and Resonance] who was autistic and is important to the series and how positive he is, and then mentioned something about how [you] had also mentioned [you’d] known someone in college who had autism who was really smart and basically he just had this really great smile on his face and it led onto this discussion about how proud he is of his own autism and the things autistic people can do, and while there are crappy people there are some really great people too and he just-the look on his face every time I talked about [John] was just really freaking good. So-thank you. :)”

When I read that last message from her, I cried. I was sitting on my couch and just let the tears flow. To hear that, to hear how your work, how a character you’ve had in your head for years, has affected someone who lives with autism... It’s such a powerful feeling. I was completely overcome, because that is so important.

Just yesterday, I was talking with another friend and we got into a discussion about John Mistin and how a follower on Tumblr told me her story about how John has impacted her and her brother, and my friend then told me that her own brother is on the spectrum, too. I’ve been hanging out with her family more and more recently, and she told me that ever since I’ve started coming over, he’s been calmer, and is interacting with them differently, and making goals for himself to follow through on, and that I’ve had a positive impact on him, too. Even just a few days ago, I showed him this book full of satellite imagery of the Earth, and he was absolutely fascinated by it, and he and I were just sitting at the table flipping through the pages, and he was telling me all these stories about stuff he loves doing and everything he’s interested in.

As she and I were having this discussion, I just started tearing-up right there. It’s just so overwhelming. I cannot express how important it is. I always say that my goal with my books is to inspire a love of space exploration and get people interested in the sciences, but never--NEVER--did I think that my stories would have this impact on the unsung-heroes, some of the best people you will ever meet if you just open yourself to them. Yes, it can sometimes be uncomfortable at first, but there is so much to discover, and so much to love about autism.

Even before my follower and my friend told me about their siblings, I’d already had John’s character-arc planned out. Yes, he has a big role as my books continue. Yes, you will see more of him, and you will continue seeing how good of a person he is, how devoted he is to his work, how genuine of a person he is. But now, even I am realizing how important John Mistin is outside of my books.

Representation matters. It matters because we are so numb to thinking that everyone is the same. That there are heroes and heroines and villains and friends and enemies.

We all have strengths and weaknesses, and none of us are magically good at everything. Sometimes the people we want to avoid at first are the best people we could ever meet. I didn’t write John because I needed diversity. I didn’t write John because I needed a stereotype “crazy” character. I wrote John because he is important to the story, because without him, my books literally would not be the same. And now I know he might be even more important to other people than he is to me.

#Autism #Representation matters #people with autism #books #characters #reading #writing #important #so important

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erenjaegur · 6 years

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Snk Positivity Day 6: Love Your Series

Im gonna put this under a read more because I cant think of express my feelings on something without turning it into a full length incoherent ass essay so!!

I’ve been in the snk fandom since I was like 12 lol - Im 16 now so that’s like, five years?? I can still remember like I’d see a lot of gifs n stuff of it going around tumblr and for some reason I just really felt I wouldn’t like it like I had smthing lowkey against it?? But then I decided to watch it one day, n i still remember, I was just chilling on my laptop watching it in the sitting room, my family around me and stuff and goddd it was soo good... but it made me tear up... n bITCH I was NOT! about to cry in the sitting room around my family. I was not! prepared for that. That night I stayed up till possibly 1 or 3am just watching it, I must’ve gotten to like around episode 6 I think? I loved it so much I rlly fell in love, I finished it all in just three days.... three days of which I also went to school and stuff and had to go to my friends party.... bitch i was pissed i didnt even like that person....i just wanted to finish snk lmaooo 😭

Im pretty sure Id spend sm of my time invested in snk and looking through snk tumblrs and stuff and other fandom stuff of it, I loved it so much!!! like!! thats all I did and even then I was still forcing my friends to read/watch it. I was really cringey in 6th class wow lmaoo I would literally go around during break with the snk manga like xD!!! eren is my baby!!! saying shit like that yikes.... bitch first of all hes 4 years older than you...your literally 12.....

Especially then, when I was younger it brought me sm happiness like when little me was going through shit then little insecure young me, you know how people say u use entertainment to escape or whatever, a distraction, idk.... like that was rlly it man idk ho to describe it without sounding weird i swear it was like my main source of happiness omg lol

Almost always, its very rare like I’ll be watching a movie, listening to music, anything like that just consuming some piece of media or literally just like. living my life and I see something and im like. omg snk au in which.... or I just somehow relate it back to snk or some of its characters lol. Like even when I was on holiday in Venice last year I was literally like thinking of a fanfic of like, the 104th on holidays in Venice like how wholesome...

Like I really do love snk I think about it every day without fail, and I honestly think I’ll always always always love it, and even if I don’t, it’s always gonna have a special place in my heart. Like, I liked it since i was literally 12 years old and it helped my through shit and I just have so much good memories associated with it. I honestly rlly do picture myself being like a 40 year old woman and still loving snk but like the fandom is dead or something... 😭 I rlly hope that never happens.....bc that will happen my 40 year old ass will b like boiis whens season 10 coming out ? Like I really hope snk is one of those series that kind of just lives on forever, or atleast for a very long time - Like Harry Potter for example

Okay, all that was really personal and I’d be surprised if anyone is reading this anyway, but I love looking back on it and talking about snk like this, I love it :) Butttt, getting to one of the reasons why I think I might love snk so much, and I mean, I can’t really pin it down why I love it so much, I dont think anyone can pin down EXACTLY why they love something, especially a series, but I think one thing I really like, and it becomes really apparent when I look at other series is like, they have a good balance between male and female characters if that makes sense. Like theres not way more men in the show than there is women, like how it is in some series or like, theres not way more men in the show than there is women, and the female characters in the show aren’t just like background characters pretty much, and they’re all good fleshed out and developed characters n shit. I think people have talked about this before but yeah.. And the female characters aren’t sexualised or anything like that and like, theres basically little to no fanservice at all which is nice. Supereyepatchwolf said something about it in his video about snk, how it can appeal to everyone because anyone of any age and gender and such can be in the survey corps n stuff... :P

And the characters just in general of course :) I honestly think the characters is one of snks strongest points, like... im not about to do a full on character analysis on anyone here lol but they’re just so amazing. Like I think on first glance it can probably be easy for people to sort most of them into like a trope or something or just write them off as cliche - mostly eren is victim to this bc people are like typical shounen boy !!! but like. you know anyway. I wish I was better at expressing my feelings and thoughts lol. Like god idk i feel like its so easy for someone who idk might just be a casual fan or smthing to just kinda see the characters on their more surface level without seeing how much depth they actually have - and I feel like that could also easily happen with anime only ppl. Like snk really does have so much great n complex n developed characters, especiallyyy now with the timeskip, more so now than ever. Like you know when you love something so much that you cant just pin point one thing about it... because its like.... everything about it i love n everything within it works to like compliment everything in it if that makes sense u get me?? like i cant just pinpoint ONE THING its the whole thing.... why i love snk? *directs u to link of readsnkmanga.com* or something lol

as for the characters themselves, obviously u can tell, with my url, u can take a guess at who my favourite is :) since the timeskip, i dont like him as much - not that i dislike him, i could literally never - but timeskip eren is basically a whole new person - and im not saying that in a bitter tone or anything, if anything its cool and i appreciate it and i understand why eren is like this now, all the shit hes been through- stuff so singular that barely anyone else would be able to understand, no one, if anything. So i understand why hes like this, and as i said earlier, this’ one of snks strong points its complex and rlly developed characters... The things I admired about Eren is just like... his good and bad, everything. How passionate he is, how he wears his heart on his sleeve - that of which being his most notable quality imo, and he expresses himself in an unapologetic manner like.... the courtroom scene... he rlly shouted that in front of all those people... how headstrong, stubborn and impulsive he is. I relate to Eren alot, thats part of the reason why I love him so much because I think I can kinda see myself in him.. but on the same hand, I think it’s also because he possesses a lot of traits I admire. Eren never backs down even when the whole world seems to be against him. He holds on firmly to what he believes in and never gives in, even when literal guns or canons are being pointed towards him. He’s full of determination and will power and he knows what he wants, and he’s also not afraid to express his opinion, even if he knows that he’ll be laughed at or be largely disagreed with.. And I admire his impulsiveness too. Those are all things I admire and other things I didn’t mention.. like me, I’m a very non confrontational person, I always feel things out before getting to it, and even then a lot of the time I just don’t at all. I might second guess my emotions and feelings when it comes to relationships with people especially, and I can a lot of the time stifle or keep quiet about my own beliefs, not completely keeping quiet, but not speaking them out as firmly as I believe them in my own mind, yielding? more I guess, if people disagree with me, I might step down a little - Which isn’t a completely bad thing, it’s good to be openminded and to see other sides, but when it’s coming from a place of embarassment or insecurity, not so much. So I really admire those traits in Eren :) I relate to him a lot, but I also know that in a lot of ways too, we are veryy different. I’ve even thought before, if I knew someone like Eren irl would I even like them lol?? Who knows lol. But as a character, I love him :) My other two favourtie characters after Eren, Levi and Jean, I won’t go into them as much as I did Eren but with them, and not just that, all of the other reasons they’re my faves.. I have like more of a ‘crush’ on them lmaooo like with them i could read so much /reader fanfic lol... but even though Eren is my #1 I could nEVER...god NO lol. And I think thats also down to the fact, as I’ve been saying I seen myself in Eren... rather than the other way around :))))))))

Like god there have been so many times I’ve laughed, cried at stuff in this fandom, made good memories as a result of it irl too... bullied my friends into watching it.... Like I have nothing but good memories. I really can’t express enough how positively snk has impacted my life like I genuinely can’t, it’d be impossible.. I seriously love it :) I’ve made friends bc of it, gotten closer to friends bc of our mutual interest in it, stuff like that...:) And even if those things didn’t happen, I’d still love the series and its fandom itself. :) I seriously can’t thank enough, the ppl that contribute to this fandom, I really can’t. Everything, and everyone to small and big creators, thank you so much. Well known and lesser known creators, like just everything and everyone, seriously. Everyone is just why this fandom is so great and!! Like I just think how lucky am I to have smthing like snk have such a big fandom and stuff and so many great people in it. Like y’know when you see your favourite fanfic update, you see your favourite artist has put out smthing new, even just see a funny snk text post or something, it all can really brighten and even make your day, and its so good :) There are so many amazing creators in this fandom, fanfics that are honestly better than published books I’ve read - like seriously, some of this stuff seriously deserves to e published or something!! And the fact that so much of these creators are putting their work out there and sharing with us for free, is just so great, and I’ll never not be grateful for it :)

Like seriously, returning back to when I was like 12-14, some days back then when I was younger it really felt like y’know the only things I could take comfort in was this series and its characters and stuff yknow.... and maybe im just being and emo teen but im getting kinda emotional thinking about it just now :’) Like seriously... I feel like im maybe being too much in this post lol but seriously this series means a lot to me.. as I said, I can honestly really picture myself being like 40 and still rlly loving snk like no matter what, whatever happens, wherever the series goes, whatever the hell, it’ll always hold a special place in my heart, because its helped me through a lot, a lot of bad days, I have nothing but good memories associated with it, made friends, seen some of the most beautiful art and read rlly great writing!! Just like yeah. Thank u Isayama and this entire fandom.....

and I was gonna peace out but I also want to appreciate and throw some love @ Isayamas art and art style. Obviously, Isayama was a bit infamous in the earlier days for his art not looking so great (Which also is amazing bc like a manga with not so great art like his in the beginning... grew to become so BIG!! like who would’ve thought) - even so the character design and stuff was all really good?? Like I also think thats a strong point he has too!! And all those years of practicing really shows, because damn!! look at his art now!! It’s really damn nice and im not just saying that lol :P

Anyway!! :) Thats all lol

#idk what this is its just a jumbled ass incoherent string of thought sorry!!#snkpositivityweek #i feel like i should be embarassed jst by the sheer lenght of this n i lowkey am but like?

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