#this is an illustration of front as of five minutes ago by the way. The purple person is Ray and the pink one is me. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sinsiriuslyemo · 15 days

Text

Chapter Seven: Breaking the Statute of Secrecy

“So let me get this straight,” Penny said, her eyes pointed at a spot on the wall behind him.

They had been sitting on the sofa for nearly forty-five minutes as he tried to explain everything in a way that someone without knowledge of magic would understand. Or at least everything that was necessary for her to know, which as it turned out, was quite a lot, and to her credit she seemed to follow his explainations thus far. She also had yet to look at him as though he had gone mad. Instead, she listened, asking very few questions whenever he mentioned something that as a muggle she wouldn’t understand the context of. Most of all she appeared sad as he explained everything to her, from the Marauders, to the first wizarding war, and James and Lily’s death leading up to his arrest. By the time he finished, she seemed to have relaxed quite a bit more than she had been when he’d first revealed himself, which was more than a bit of a relief. At least he would no longer have to worry about her screaming.

“Thirteen years ago, there was a war," she pointed at him, "which you fought in….”

“Mhm.”

“And your friends also fought in that war, but then one of them did a one-eighty, and betrayed your other two friends to the… Volde — or whatever, the bag guy...”

“Right.”

“And that same friend killed twelve randos when you confronted him about James and…”

“Lily.”

“Lily, right. But you were blamed for the randos and for James and Lily being," she made a slicing gesture by sliding one finger across her throat, her lips stretched to one side as she made a clicking sound, "and you went to prison for it. Everyone thinks he’s dead, but he’s not actually dead, and now he’s… someone’s pet?” Her brows made waves above her eyes, as though she recognized just how ridiculous and complicated it all sounded.

“Yes. He’s a rat,” Sirius answered.

“Yeah, I got that, I mean, he betrayed his friends that he’d known for —”

“No, I mean he’s a rat,” Sirius repeated.

“As in…” She brought her hands up under her chin, fingers pointed down and parallel to her palms. Then she drew her upper lip in to reveal her teeth and made little tsking sounds.

“Yes. He’s like me. Only instead of turning into a dog, he can turn into a rat,” Sirius explained.

Penny grimaced. “Gross.”

“It was actually quite useful back in our school days,” Sirius replied with a shrug and what might have been a smirk if the memories didn't make him so sad. “But the point is that the boy he belongs to goes to school with Harry.”

“Whoa, who’s Harry?”

“Oh right, sorry, that’s James and Lily’s son.”

“So many names,” she whispered to herself. “Okay, so the two friends that he betrayed had a son, Harry.” She paused for a moment as though she were piecing something together. “Wait… if that Volde-whatever-guy killed Lily and James… where was Harry when that happened?”

Swallowing thickly, Sirius lowered his eyes. He’d never had the chance to speak to anyone about what happened that night in Godric’s Hollow, or the state he’d found Potter Cottage in. “He was only a baby, but he was there. He saw his mother die.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “That’s horrible. Where is he now?”

“He lives with his aunt and uncle in Surrey,” Sirius said.

“Got it. Oh!” Her eyes went wide and she absently pointed a finger at him. “Wait, is that why you were there? Because you wanted to find Harry?”

He nodded, picking at a hangnail on his thumb.

“Did you find him?” she asked. “You know, I mean before you…” He looked up just as her hands came up in front of her again and turned to one side, illustrating something tipping over.

A smirk tugged on the corner of Sirius’ lips. “Yes, I did. He’s fine, he got on the Knight Bus.”

“The What Bus?”

“The Knight Bus, it’s a bus that runs throughout Britain for stranded wizards.”

“So cool,” she whispered to herself.

“But he’ll be starting school again soon, which means Wormtail will be able to get to him —’

“What the hell is a Wormtail?”

“Peter,” Sirius clarified. “I have to be there to be sure that bloody rat doesn’t have a chance to hurt my godson. That was the only reason I escaped in the first place, to protect Harry.”

“What about your other friend, um… Renal? Can he help?”

“Re — You mean Remus?”

She pinch her eyes shut and shook her head. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, Remus. Couldn’t he help you find Wartail—”

“Wormtail.”

“Yeah, whatever. Couldn’t he help you find him before Harry gets to school?”

“Possibly, but as far as he’s concerned, I was the one who betrayed the Potters. Besides, I don't want to put him in danger with the Ministry. As it is… technically, I’m already doing that with you. The difference is that the Ministry is much more likely to come poking about a wizard’s home. It’s doubtful they would find a reason to come round to your flat, you’re just a muggle.”

Penny grimaced. “What the hell did you just call me?”

“A muggle, it just means someone without magic.”

Nodding softly, Penny frowned and looked him over. “What about you being innocent? Don’t you think Harry would be super bummed if his godfather had to get locked up again? And for something he didn’t do?”

“I doubt they would merely throw me back in Azkaban, they would likely make me take the kiss and then throw me back in my cell.”

Again Penny furrowed her brows. “They kiss you?”

One side of his lips curled into a smirk, but there was nothing at all happy nor amused about it. “It’s not quite the kiss you’re thinking of. It's considered a fate worse than death.”

She frowned. “Isn’t there a way to prove that you’re innocent?”

“You believe me?”

“Look, I don’t know what I believe, all I know is that an hour ago, you were a dog and now you’re…” She gestured up and down to him and mumbled, “Hot magic guy.”

Doing his best to suppress a smirk, Sirius lowered his eyes and picked at a loose thread on his prison robes.

“Did I say that out loud?” she asked, her eyes squeezed shut.

“'Fraid you did, love,” he answered, deciding that she looked rather adorable when she was embarrassed.

A sarcastic smile found its way to her lips as she looked straight ahead. “Great. I guess I couldn’t convince you to hit me over the head again so I forget it happened?”

“Sorry. I’ve told you, I don’t have any desire to hurt you.” Licking his lips, he shifted his eyes away from her and swallowed, clearing his throat. “There is actually one thing I wanted to ask you about. It’s why I revealed myself in the first place.”

“Okay…”

He looked sideways at the glass case above the mantle and waited for her to follow his gaze. There was always a chance she wouldn’t be willing to part with it, but he had to try. If only to convince her to allow him to see if it was even compatible with him.

“What, my artifact?” she asked, her eyes widening slightly as she added, “Wait, was that yours?”

“No,” he replied. “But it may be something I could use… with your permission, of course.”

She looked surprised at that. “My permission? You have magic, you want my permission?”

“Yes, of course.” He left out the bit where he hadn’t been able to get the case open himself. It had been enough that she seemed to believe what he’d told her. “I’m not sure if I'll be compatible with it, but the only way to know is if I hold it, and try to use it.”

“What is it?”

He almost lied. It was bad enough that she knew as much as she now did. The more information he gave her the more danger she would be in, not to mention the more likely it was that he would be recaptured before he could complete his mission. Still, he saw very little possibility that she wouldn’t see him attempt to use the wand, especially since he needed her in to get ahold of it in fhe first place.

“It’s a wand,” he said.

She snorted, a smile falling on her lips. “You’re joking.”

“I’m afraid not,” he replied.

“You guys actually use wands?”

“We do. I can do wandless magic, but it’s becoming more and more difficult. I’ve been without a wand for quite some time, and even though I didn’t always need one, it’s getting to the point where transforming is really the only wandless magic I’m able to do anymore. Pretty soon, that may also become difficult, and then I’ll be essentially a squib.”

Her brows knitted above her eyes as she said, “I’m gonna need you to write down all these terms for me. Make flashcards or something.”

Standing up, Penny went to the mantle and retrieved the glass case, bringing it back with her to the sofa. She set it on her lap and used her thumbs to flip one side of the frame open and slide the top off. Of course; the one method he hadn’t attempted. Pulling out the wand, she looked up at him cautiously.

“Promise not to turn me into a pumpkin?”

He smiled at her, nodding his head. “I won’t turn you into anything, I promise.”

Nodding once, Penny held out the wand toward him. Taking a breath, Sirius reached out for it, wrapping his hand around the base. Almost instantly, a warm energy crawled up his arm, spreading over him like a flame catching oxygen. The buzzing of the wand’s magic seemed to seep into his skin, sparking the blood that coursed through his veins as though it was breathing life into him.

“Is there supposed to be fireworks or something?” Penny asked, watching him carefully.

“No,” Sirius answered with a slight smile. Lifting the wand, he tried the easiest charm he could think of, pointing it toward the coffee table at the small rectangle that controlled the box in the corner of the sitting room. Swish and flick. To his delight, the object began to float above the coffee table. Penny gasped beside him while Sirius guided it through the air slowly, bringing it to land silently into Penny’s open hand.

“Whoa,” she mumbled softly, staring down at the black rectangle in her hand. “You just made the remote fly.”

“It’s a levitation charm,” he replied. “I needed to be certain I would be compatible with the wand.”

“Compatible? Like a relationship?”

“In a sense, yes,” Sirius answered. “If you’re not compatible with a wand it won’t work as well for you if at all.”

“Huh…” Penny replied, her brows slightly furrowed as she looked down at the remote again. “What else can you do?”

Smirking at her curiosity, Sirius thought up a slightly more complicated charm. He stood and went into the kitchen, Penny following close behind him as he approached the sink. He swirled his wand over the dishes and muttered, scourgify, before he tapped the air above the now cleaned dishes and swooped in the direction of the cupboard. One by one, the dishes floated up to the cupboard, which opened itself to allow the bowl and mug inside before it closed itself.

“You’re doing the dishes from now on,” Penny said, earning a grin from Sirius. “I can’t believe I was right all this time. There is magic in the world.”

“Yes, you were,” he answered, turning to face her. “You can’t ever tell anyone about this, Penelope. I know it isn’t fair, especially given your field of study, but the Ministry would take your memories if they ever found out. For all we know, they would take all of them, including what you’ve learned on your own. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I know,” she replied with a nod. “Something as amazing as this would only be exploited if people knew about it. The murkels or whatever would totally ruin it,” she added, mumbling, “Just like they do most other things.”

“Muggles,” he whispered to her.

“Right. Them, too.”

Smiling softly at her, he held the wand upright in front of him and twirled it, pulling it down a bit and conjuring a Dahlia with white petals that turned to a deep red from halfway down to the base. Taking it between two fingers, he offered it to her. “Dahlias are symbolic of gratitude.”

Her eyes lit up at the sight as she reached out and accepted the gift, bringing it to her nose as she looked up at him. “It’s beautiful.”

“Like you,” he said before he could stop himself. Swallowing, he gently cleared his throat and tried not to read into the pink that had bloomed on her cheeks. “Thank you for everything you’ve done. I’m not sure I would have survived much longer if you hadn’t found me when you did.”

Smiling bashfully, she lowered her eyes. “I think you would’ve been okay… but you’re welcome.” Looking back up at him, her brows bounced slightly above her eyes as she held up the flower. “I’m gonna find a cup or something to —”

Before she could finish her sentence, he conjured a small, narrow vase, just big enough for the single flower. Handing it to her with a smirk.

“You know, if you keep doing that, I’m not gonna remember how to do anything myself after you leave,” she teased, taking the vase from him.

Their fingers brushed and a spark crackled gently on his skin, one he tried to ignore. A growing attraction to a muggle woman was the last thing he needed at the moment. He snorted as she filled the vase with a bit of water and set the flower inside.

“Well, if it’s alright, I’d like to stay at least until the school term starts. It's just another couple of weeks, though I’ll understand if you prefer me to go.”

Shaking her head, she brought the vase over to the coffee table and set it in the center. “No, you’re more than welcome to stay… I just… I don’t have a spare room or anything.”

“I’m perfectly fine on my dog bed,” he answered, following her back into the sitting room. “Really, it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve slept on in years. I don’t mind.”

“Well, if you want a break from it, the sofa’s not so bad. I can grab an extra pillow and a blanket for you.”

Nodding softly, Sirius ran his free hand through his curls, which weren’t quite as tame as he would like them to be. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay,” Penny answered, her eyes wandering for a moment before she added, “So… you wanna watch a tape or something?”

He arched a brow slightly. “Sorry?”

“A movie,” she clarified, pointing at the bottom shelf behind the box. “I don’t have that many but… we could watch one if you want. Ever seen The Goonies?”

Trying to suppress a smile, he shook his head. “Can’t say I have.”

Penny stood and went to the shelf, taking out one of the thicker… not a book, though it was a similar shape. “Do you not know what this is?” she asked, noticing his expression as she pulled something black with a white label in the center out from the bottom.

He shook his head, taking a step closer. “I’ve only been to a muggle cinema twice when I was young… is this how they get it on that huge screen?”

“Not exactly,” she replied. “When you go to the movies, they have these things called projectors in another room. The movie is in a huge film reel that they feed through the projector, which then plays the movie onto the screen.”

“Interesting,” he mumbled. “Is that what’s behind that window above all the seats? Where the light comes in?”

She grinned. “Exactly! But when the movies are released for sale, the reel is much smaller and comes in a smaller tape, like this one. You put the tape in something called a VCR and it shows the movie on the TV.” Going to the box in the corner, she squatted in front of it and pushed the tape into a vent. “This is the VCR,” she said, going to take up the small rectangle he’d levitated earlier. “You turn on the TV with the remote.” She pointed the remote at the box and it turned on, a green image with writing on it displaying on the screen with the letters FBI much larger than the rest of the words.

“That’s brilliant,” he mumbled, sitting on the sofa with his eyes still on the TV. “So that box is called a TV…”

“Yep. British people call it a telly sometimes.”

“Telly,” he repeated under his breath. “And the rectangle is a remote.”

“Mhm,” she answered. “Remote control to be precise.”

She sat beside him as the green screen faded away and a new one emerged. Sirius set the wand on the coffee table and settled back into the sofa, trying not to notice too much that her shoulder was touching his.

#sirius black #sirius black x ofc #harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban #harry potter fanfiction #gary oldman

3 notes · View notes

jennyboom21 · 4 months

Text

The entire staff of Sports Illustrated was notified on Friday that their jobs were being eliminated.

Authentic, the licensing group that purchased Sports Illustrated for $110 million from Meredith five years ago, has terminated the agreement it holds with The Arena Group to publish SI in print and digital, according to an email obtained by Front Office Sports. That move comes three weeks after Arena missed a $2.8 million payment that breached the company’s SI licensing deal, which began in 2019.

The fallout: On Friday Arena told all SI employees in an email “… We were notified by Authentic Brands Group (ABG) that the license under which the Arena Group operates the Sports Illustrated (SI) brand and SI related properties has been officially revoked by ABG. As a result of this license revocation, we will be laying off staff that work on the SI brand.”

“Some employees will be terminated immediately, and paid in lieu of the applicable notice period under the [the union contract]. Employees with a last working day of today will be contacted by the People team soon. Other employees will be expected to work through the end of the notice period, and will receive additional information shortly.” (An Arena spokesperson did not immediately respond to FOS when contacted about the layoff plans.)

Friday afternoon, the Sports Illustrated Guild wrote on X (formerly Twitter): “We have fought together as a union to maintain the standard of this storied publication that we love, and to make sure our workers are treated fairly for the value they bring to this company. It is a fight we will continue.”

Authentic’s move to terminate Arena’s license and Arena’s eliminating SI’s staff signals a shift in the company that operates SI, weeks after Manoj Bhargava, the founder of 5-Hour Energy, introduced himself to employees of Arena, including SI, as their new leader. Since then, Authentic has had exploratory conversations with and reached out to multiple parties about the possibility of taking over Arena’s role with SI, industry sources with knowledge of the situation tell FOS.

It’s unclear whether Authentic will indeed pursue the path of establishing a new operator or will now allow Arena to renegotiate its current deal. Sources tell FOS, though, that Authentic’s goal is to move the process along as quickly as possible. One way or another, says one insider, “Authentic will see Sports Illustrated through a necessary evolution.”

SI, meanwhile, has struggled to find its financial foothold in the digital age, culminating in a November report that suggested its website had published AI-generated reviews without disclosure. That fiasco was followed by a head-scratching town hall in December led by Bhargava with SI and other Arena employees that spanned more than 90 minutes and during which Bhargava said, “No one is important. I am not important. … The amount of useless stuff you guys do is staggering.” Bhargava’s Simplify Inventions agreed to purchase roughly 65% of Arena in August, a $50 million deal.

Authentic acquired SI from Meredith in May 2019. The Arena Group—operating as Maven, before changing its name in 2021—then paid Authentic $45 million up front as part of a 10-year licensing agreement. Until a month ago, Ross Levinsohn led SI and Arena as Arena began to purchase other struggling media outlets, such as Men’s Journal.

Authentic, sources close to the situation tell FOS, has been irked by Arena in recent years as SI has instituted multiple rounds of layoffs, run off top talent such as Grant Wahl, and undergone constant leadership changes. Authentic’s contact with potential replacement operators predates Arena’s recent missed payment, sources with knowledge of the situation tell FOS.

In addition to Friday’s SI layoffs, Arena fired more than 100 employees on Thursday throughout its organization. But Bhargava, who was tapped as Arena’s interim CEO on Dec. 11, didn’t make those cost-cutting moves. That’s because Bhargava stepped down from that position on Jan. 5 “to avoid any conflicts of interest,” according to an SEC filing. That conflict: Bridge Media Networks, a company completely owned by Bhargava, is in negotiations to make “a substantial investment” in Arena, according to the Arena news release that announced the layoffs on Thursday. The layoffs were carried out instead by Arena execs, its board of directors, and Jason Frankl, of FTI Consulting, who was appointed as Arena’s chief business transformation officer the same day Bhargava resigned, according to SEC filings.

“My immediate focus is to collaboratively design a growth-oriented media company, ensuring the financial stability necessary to cultivate and grow the brands we cherish,” Frankl said in a statement. “While this week’s layoffs were regrettably necessary, I look forward to sharing detailed plans soon.”

#sports illustrated #sports publishing #ai x journalism #sports journalism

2 notes · View notes

sunnunderthesun · 5 months

Text

Fiction: Another Job Interview

In an overcrowded bus, Robi’s demeanour stands out. Anxiety appears to swallow him up. The fine arts graduate is on his way to take his eighth job interview that year after being rejected by uncountable employers in the last thirteen years. He gets off the bus when it stops in front of a private office building, and heads towards its open gate. As he’s about to enter the premises, he feels lightheaded because his blood sugar level starts going down.

Three well-dressed men, standing at the gate, approach him. One of them asks Robi, “Here for an interview?” A shaky Robi nods. “Well, you must pay us a thousand rupees to be able to get in,” says another. Robi rummages through his backpack, takes out a small bottle of sugar cubes and chugs the sugar down with water. “Young man, are you listening to us? Pay us the thousand rupees and we’ll be out of your way,” says the third stranger. Regaining his vigour, Robi begins to explain to the men, “You have no idea how desperately I need this job. I am stone broke and in debt to a couple of relatives who funded my medical expenses five years ago. I don’t have any siblings to help me with anything. I beg you, let me go...” But the men remain unmoved by his story. They tell him to give them the money or forget about the interview. Robi phones his friend who reluctantly sends the men money through an internet banking website. Robi is then let in for the interview. The receptionist at the office directs him upstairs to the boss’ chamber where the interview has been scheduled to take place. The boss, a lady in her early fifties who reeks of unimaginable wealth, welcomes him and asks him to close the door behind him. There is no one else present in that spacious room besides her and Robi.

“You don’t seem nervous,” says the lady with a grin.

“No. I have been through this many times before. May I sit?”

“Yes, you may.”

She then takes two minutes to examine Robi’s physical appearance as he sits there in front of her, observing an awkward silence. “I have brought some of my best works with me today. Do you want to see them?”

She only smiles which Robi takes as a yes. He places before her his weighty file of traditional paintings done by him over the years and some photographs of his sculptures.

She clumsily runs through those pictures and asks Robi, “What makes you think that I will be impressed by your drawings when I have talented digital artists producing attractive illustrations anytime I need?”

“Well… I believe digital art cannot ever replace traditional art’s aesthetic value. I think you agree with me on this because in your job advertisement you had specifically asked for traditional artists to apply. You definitely can’t find my kind of efficiency in a purely digital artist.”

“Your answer’s not too bad. For your information, I am an award-winning digital artist who just hasn’t found the inspiration to create new artwork in a while… Anyway, I was wondering how much you know about my magazine to be willing to work for it.”

“I read that this magazine was started over twenty years ago, and ... it has been quite successful so far in producing meaningful articles and pictures that a lot of people care about.”

“Three years ago, one of our former female employees posted on her social media accounts that she had faced sexism here. Were you aware of that?”

“No. I wasn’t.”

“You should have been. It is important to research into the place and people you are willing to associate yourself with. But, now that you know, what do you think of it?”

“I… I think… I don’t know about her experiences here. But, if hired, I will do my best to… to make sure that my behaviour or conduct never becomes the reason for anyone’s unhappiness in the workplace.”

“I like you. I do.”

“Thank you, ma’am! All I need is an opportunity to prove how valuable I can be to your company.”

“Mr. Robi De, why don’t we go through the details of the responsibilities I’d like you to have here?”

“Oh… you have no idea how much I have been looking forward to this!” Robi's eyes glisten with surprise and delight.

For the next two hours, the boss slowly explains to him the duties of an illustrator in her company and enlightens him on its history.

Half an hour before lunch break, she tells a hopeful Robi, “I doubt you will be able to perform all these tasks and become an indispensable employee. You need to come to me after you have gained more work experiences elsewhere.”

“No, ma’am, you have to believe in me... Just give me a chance to show you how much…”

“Look, young man, you have only worked as a freelance artist so far. You have no idea how things are done in a big workplace like ours. I cannot let anything … anything go wrong here. How much do you know about the corporate culture anyway?”

“This position I have applied for is supposed to be an entry-level one requiring minimum work experience… Did you… did you expect a newbie to know it all?”

“This room has only one door through which we enter and exit, and it’s right behind you. Thank you for being here. I hope you succeed someday.”

"Why did you waste so much of my time just to tell me all about this damned place? Why didn’t you reject me earlier? I could have gone home to my sick old parents who need me often! I have left them alone with a new caregiver to come here for this interview, and now after tricking me into keeping you company for three hours, you’re telling me I am not needed here!”

The lady exhibits a calm indifference during Robi’s rampage before heading out for lunch. Robi remains in her room for over an hour until she returns.

“I don’t pay people for keeping me company,” she says upon seeing the resolute man standing at her desk fifteen minutes past the lunch break.

“How much more do you need? Do I have to bribe you for this job?” asks a desperate Robi, fighting his frustrations.

The lady sits down in her chair quietly, sips water from her bottle, and gently wipes her lips with a handkerchief. “What do you mean?” she asks carelessly.

“Weren’t the men who made me shell out a thousand bucks earlier yours?”

“I have no idea about what you’re saying, young man. Listen, you need to leave before you get yourself into trouble.”

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do?” Robi, furious, inches closer to her.

“The chief minister’s nephew is a dear friend of mine. All I need to tell him is that you tried to rape me in my own office because I refused to hire you.”

Upon hearing those words, Robi instantly breaks into a cold sweat and his heart rate rises. He can’t utter another word. Struggling to breathe, Robi grabs his phone from his pocket to dial some number in vain. The boss, still comfortable in her cushioned chair, watches him drop unconscious on the carpet in front of her.

Then she thoughtfully opens Microsoft Paint on her iPad. Using only her fingers, she attempts to draw the still man to perfection.

#story #original story #creative writing #fiction #short stories

0 notes

snellblogs · 8 months

Text

CANADA ROAD 3

Aug 21 23

Between Goderich and Kincardine,

Lake Huron

Great Lakes

Ontario

Sunset 60 minutes ago

Today it was so rough with the waves and the wind that I just went in, fell over and couldn’t even begin to swim. When the wind gets up, it gets harder to swim but the waves are lovely. There was a walk along the dirt track here in between the cottages, with trees lining our way both sides of the road, hiding for the most part the dwellings either side of the road. There were seven of us straggling along with the children at the front. We found the creek that leads inland to the gorge. There was a fairy garden, a flower garden and a friendly dog whose owner had lost his white cat. We looked, but didn’t find her.

We took the stairs down to the beach and walked back up the beach to our part of the beach. There were decks and boat launches, chairs, bars, all kinds of wooden structure, all facing the lake, which feels like a sea, so vast into the distance, turquoise water. There were our familiar seats facing out to sea waiting for us to sit and look.

We visited the Point Clark Lighthouse, after driving on the Main 21 Bluewater Highway, between miles and miles of green fields with crops like corn and potatoes. The Lighthouse had a museum set in the windy point. The museum documents he story of the generations of Lighthouse Keepers and their families, illustrated with old photographs.

We could climb the old lighthouse tower, white and red, saving lives on the lakr. There is an area of shoals off the coast here that the Lighthouse, and thus prevents ships from running aground. The water is only five feet deep out in the channel.

The Lighthouse system is still needed for shipping. Originally eleven were required but only six were ever built. Today they are automated but previously needed buckets of oil to keep running which had to be carried up the stairs in the dark without a hand rail.

The day was sunny and the flowers at the foot of the lighthouse were in full bloom on the shore and the traditional houses had wonderful displays of flowers all over the peninsula.

Sun set tonight happened as the sun slid gradually to the skyline through stripes of cloud, grey against fiery red, until below our sight. Goodnight!

www.lynnepearl.com

#Goderich #Lake Huron #Point Clark LIghthouse #Thiel One Step in Front of Another

0 notes

sexandwistfulness · 2 years

Text

rare reliable fragments (shattered, but whole)

I must have been five or six. I don't remember where this was, I can't place it exactly. Preschool, definitely. The building probably does not exist anymore. If you know my city, you know it shifts and changes. Development comes at extreme pace; it is not necessary, except to line the pockets of landlords. In 1995 it was a preschool, with a large courtyard of weeds, with no tree cover. There was a circular road in front of the old, post-war building that the preschool was. In 2005 it was a fenced-off lot, with the ruin of the building, with weeds overtaking the tar of the road. In 2022 it is an incomplete highway gantry: an elevated road, almost awe-inspiringly tall, maybe a hundred and fifty feet high. There is a limitation to scale in the mind of people — we can estimate, after which, we can only speculate. The double flyover requires monumental pillars and gantries. Once upon a time, two and a half decades ago, I went to preschool there. I must have been five or six.

What I remember is little pockets of frustrations, moments where you're too smart or too dumb for others. On my first day, I remember being yelled at. An assignment I couldn't understand, and had been miscommunicated to me. "Draw an architect", but what the teacher wanted was shapes. What shapes? I came home and told my mother I had no idea how to draw an architect. My mother drew me a smiling figure wearing a safety helmet. In 1995, as a five year old at preschool, I was told that was not an architect — whatever it was they wanted me to draw, it had more to do with rectangles and triangles. To this day I don't know what word I must have misinterpreted. I was a precociously well-read child; I must have invented their saying "architect", which must have been a word a few grades higher than what illiterate five year olds would need to learn.

In that day, there was a girl named Amanda. I don't remember what she looked like; there have been many Amandas since. I can't remember if she was tall or skinny or had pigtails or had friends; I only remember she had a smart smile that frequently turned mean. One time we had to do a little test in class. It bored me; I was done in five minutes, fidgeting alone for forty-five until time ran out. Unusually, afterwards Amanda came up to me to ask me how many questions I got wrong.

"None," I said.

"Nine? Me too."

I tried to correct myself with all the other words I knew to illustrate my lack of error: zero, no mistakes, nothing. I said it in another language, too. I said it in a third, not one I knew fluently, but one I knew effectively to recite numbers. Thank you to the singsong way I was taught these things, at five or six. It didn't matter, in the end; the bell rang, the girl ran off, the stickiness of the memory ends. Afterwards, waiting to be picked up by our parents, we were given juice boxes, or maybe it was milk. It was probably soy milk. I've never drank soy milk since, and I have drawn no architects.

#prose #writing #memory #personal

1 note · View note

lustspren · 3 years

Text

Jealousy

Kim Yoohyeon X Male Reader

5516 words.

genres: anal, brat, bondage, daddy kink, humillation, hard sex.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Raises were a good thing.

You made more money, you became important to the company and you built a very good reputation, it all seems like advantages, doesn't it?

No.

Raises also brought problems; the issues you had to attend to were now many more, that meant more calls, more emails, less margin for error and more pressure. Bittersweet feeling, to describe it in some way.

You took a long breath, sitting in front of your computer screen, your elbows resting on the edge of the desk and your hands intertwined at the height of your nose while you looked at the project that you had open in Illustrator. You had been concentrating on it for so long that the cup of coffee you poured yourself an hour ago was still full to the brim, you hadn't even taken a sip.

You had been commissioned to do this job a few weeks ago, and the deadline was breathing down your neck. Luckily you weren't alone on the project, you had a few more designers under your direction who did their jobs very well, but working for Hyundai meant that if it was successful, it was going to have a huge global impact. That meant the CEO was demanding as shit, and he never agreed with the end results.

At this point, any design decision you made seemed risky to you, as if you were playing in the control room of a nuclear power plant. You made some changes here and there, tweaking measurements and playing with a bunch of fonts and colors. After a long and tedious hour, you managed to make the main motif of the advertising panel take a coherent and elegant form. You were on the right track, and you planned to keep going, but your phone started vibrating on the desk.

You picked up your phone, reading the name on the screen. Great, just what you needed.

Gahyeon.

"Hello" you answered, holding the phone to your ear as you stood up and walked around your office.

“Hi sweetie, how you doing?” Away from the sexual theme, Gahyeon's voice always sounded tender and caring.

"I'm very busy right now, you caught me at a bad time."

"Oh really? I'm sorry... I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. We haven't seen each other since the party, and that was a week ago."

"Gahyeon..."

"Come on! Just five minutes, and I promise I won't bother you anymore for the rest of the day."

"Aight, fine," you agreed with a sigh. "How has your day been so far?"

"Well, I don't know, I just woke up and I haven't gotten out of bed. I’m waiting for breakfast."

"Breakfast? It's 1PM."

"I know, but breakfast is the first meal of the day. That's how it works."

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works."

"What are you going to know? You barely eat being in front of that damn computer all day."

"Thanks to this damn computer I bought the bed you're lying on right now. Watch your mouth."

"Ugh, fine. Sorry"

You stood in front of the window, looking at the plants in your garden.

"Do you want to go out tonight?" Gahyeon quickly changed the topic. "I bought some cute lingerie that you gonna love."

"Gahyeon, the deadline is this week. Do you think I have time for that now?"

"Oh, come on! Don’t be such an ass. You need a damn break from time to time, you can't be in there all day."

"I need to show the result as soon as possible. If the boss is unhappy again, the whole team is screwed."

"Fuck that stupid old man! Your mental health is more important than that. Besides..."

Gahyeon's voice became fuzzy in your head when you saw a taxi pull up right in front of your house. You put your face close to the glass to try to see the person in the back seat, but the windows of the car were dark, you couldn't tell who it was until the door was opened.

"Ah… fuck me." You interrupted Gahyeon.

"What? Are you even listening to me?"

"Emergency, it's important. I'll call you later."

You hung up right after you finished your sentence, seeing Kim Yoohyeon walking through the garden towards the entrance of the house, and judging by her face, she didn't seem very happy.

You left your office and locked the door. The doorbell rang as you patiently walked downstairs, and a second time as you walked to the door. There would have been a third time, but you opened the door just when she had her finger on the button.

“Do you need anything, ma’am?” You raised an eyebrow.

Yoohyeon looked extremely hot in front of you, the top of her jumpsuit was huddled around her small waist, low enough to see the line of her underwear. Her toned and beautiful abdomen was always the center of your attention, but this time your eyes went straight to her boobs, tightly squeezed by her short black top.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She complained, pushing you out of the way to go inside.

“What?” You frowned in confusion, closed the door and followed her into the living room.

"Did you really take that whore with you to the party and not me? What the fuck!"

Yoohyeon dropped her bag on the couch and turned around to see you with her arms crossed. Her gaze was fuming.

"Weren't you busy at a photoshoot, or something? I didn't call you for that reason."

"The photoshoot was the next day, you fucking idiot!"

"And why do you come here a week later?"

"Because I was busy taking care of my damn body for my work and for you! Just for not getting a single fucking call in all week!"

You had a pretty strict policy on who could yell at you and who couldn't. And nobody could, you hated it.

"Lower your voice."

"Fuck you!" She showed you the middle finger.

"Lower your damn voice, Kim Yoohyeon. Second warning."

"Or what! What are you going to do to me if I don't lower my damn voice?!"

In response to your silence, Yoohyeon took a couple of steps forward and tried to slap you, but you stopped her hand a few inches from your cheek, your fingers gripping her wrist. She tried to get away, but you were stronger.

"Let me go, asshole!" Another attempt to slap you, but this time with her other hand. You stopped her even before she was close to your face. Yoohyeon, seized by the anger and despair of the moment, spat in your face, right next to your mouth. That was it for you.

"You fucking..."

You let go of her wrists, to take her by the arm and throw her roughly against the couch. You quickly pounced on her, your knee on her torso to keep her in place and your hand over her neck. Yoohyeon struggled to pull her arms out, but it was useless. With each attempt to get away you pressed more on her neck,

"Who the hell do you think you are to yell at me? You're nothing but my fucking bitch, Kim Yoohyeon. This is my house, and while you're under this roof, you have to stick to my fucking rules."

You went from holding her neck to her jaw, leaning down to get a closer look to her angry face, you knew that girl well enough to realize that under that irate countenance, she was turned on by the way you were treating her.

"I'm in charge here, you understand, don't you?"

Yoohyeon's face softened with the passing of the seconds, now you knew that she was under your control.

"Y-yes," she replied after a small silence, looking into your eyes.

“YES WHAT?” you asked back, screaming at her face.

“Yes d-daddy“.

“Good. Now, you'll get punishment for being such a fucking brat," you stepped off her. "Stand up."

As soon as Yoohyeon stood up, you got behind her and handcuffed her hands behind her back, forcing her to move in front of you. You took her upstairs directly to your room, to get some things that would be very useful.

When you entered the room you pushed her onto the bed, Yoohyeon fell face down against it with a groan, no time to cushion the impact with her hands.

"Stay still, and don't say a fucking single word."

You quickly moved to your closet, from which you grabbed a pair of neckties, a black leather belt and a bullet vibrator, which you saved in your pocket . You went back to Yoohyeon and stood her up, grabbing her again with your hands to leave the room and go downstairs. Next stop was the backyard, where most of the land was grass except for a table, a few chairs, and most importantly, a lamp post. You walked until you were in front of it, letting go of Yoohyeon's hands

"Get naked, now."

"But daddy... someone could see me," Yoohyeon complained, a worried expression on her face.

"I don't give a fuck. Get naked, right-now."

She didn't know, but you had no neighbors, the only house that had a direct view of your backyard had been vacated for months. But clearly, you weren't going to tell her that, you wanted her to feel exposed and humiliated.

Yoohyeon hesitated, but then heeded the order. She first got free of her shoes and her socks, to take off her jumpsuit and let you see her pretty legs. She continued with her black top, removing it over her head. Now, only her Calvin Klein set of underwear remained, which looked perfect on her slim and tight body.

"Stop," you interrupted her when she was about to take off her panties. "Just take off your bra, I want to do that on my own."

And so it was, Yoohyeon took off her bra, freeing her modest but pretty breasts for the sun to bathe them.

The pretty semi-nude blonde girl in front of you made your cock rock hard, you just wanted to remove those panties and pound her luscious butt until then she couldn't walk properly. But you wanted to give her what she deserved, there would be time later to fuck her.

With a hand on her belly, you gently pushed her until her back was against the lamp-post. You stood behind and took her wrists up over her head, tying them with the neckties to the post, making sure the knot was strong enough to resist what was coming.

You went back in front of her and dropped the belt on the grass. Her gaze locked on you as you brought your hand straight to her slit, slowly rubbing it with your fingers over the fabric—which you noticed had a very small dark stain on it. Yoohyeon drowned a small moan against her pursed lips, involuntarily crossing her legs, your hand caught between her thighs..

"Do you get wet being treated like shit? You really are a pathetic whore."

You took the black vibrator out of your pocket and turned it on, leaving it on the lowest speed of the seven possible. You pulled it close to one of her breasts, slowly moving it around her nipple. This time, Yoohyeon didn't hold back the little moan that came from her lips.

The vibrator moved to her other mound when you brought the first one to your mouth, your tongue swirling around it to give it a light suction. Yoohyeon slightly squirmed against the post as you lowered the toy through her abdomen, stopping just before you reached her crotch. The vibrations stayed in her belly.

Her breasts served you as lunch for a few long seconds. You enjoyed them as if you hadn't eaten for a whole day, using your mouth and tongue to kiss and suck both nipples. You squeezed one of them between your fingers, before going up to her lips and giving her a little kiss.

"I'd love to take off those panties and slide into your pussy. But you don't deserve it, honey, not yet."

You raised a couple of speeds to the vibrator, tucking it inside her panties to press against her slit. Yoohyeon's legs contracted violently at the sudden discharge of pleasure, as she let out long, pretty moans. You picked up the belt from the ground and brought both ends together inside your hand, standing behind her again to brush the belt against one of her trembling thighs, skin being caressed with the rough leather.

"I hope you consider this as a lesson"

Yoohyeon turned her head as much as she could to see you push her panties inward, revealing her firm cheeks for you to position the belt on one of them, the blonde girl pursed her lips, preparing for what was to come. You raised your arm to your shoulder, giving her right asscheek a hard sash that made her flesh move hypnotizingly. Yoohyeon let out a loud high-pitched cry of pain and pleasure as she felt the stinging heat on her skin, which turned bright red in a matter of seconds.

That was just the first of several hits you delivered to her perfect butt. Yoohyeon was a mixture of screams and moans as she writhed over her legs, now flexed from the intense pleasure that flowed through her body. You only stopped when her butt was full of strawberry red marks.

Having enough lashes for today, you threw the belt away and came back to the front to see Yoohyeon straight in the face, her eyes and cheeks were full of tears. You looked down, seeing how the dark spot on her panties had gotten bigger, you also noticed that the inside of her thighs was somewhat damp.

"P-please daddy ... I-I have had enough, fuck m-me now, I need it."

"I'll decide when you've had enough."

You reached into her panties and pulled out the vibrator, which was soaked in her fluids, and rubbed it against her lips; Yoohyeon immediately took the hint and put it in her mouth to clean it. After that, you put the device in your pocket again.

"That's a good girl."

Yoohyeon rubbed her cheek against your hand as you petted her, just like a homeless kitten would, only to be slapped a few seconds later.

"You're so fucking pathetic, begging for my cock even though I'm treating you like the worst shit in the world."

You forced her to see you again, to now spit right in her face, right in the same place where she had done it a few minutes ago.

"You are a crappy slut. I just spit in your face, and you can't do anything about it. You enjoy it. Because that's how garbage like you is."

Another slap, another groan of pain.

"You're going to apologize for what you did, and you're going to repeat everything I just said."

Yoohyeon slowly raised her face, seeing you with crystallized eyes and trembling lips. She tried to speak, but the words didn't come out of her mouth from the shock of a few seconds ago.

"DO I HAVE TO REPEAT IT?" You yelled at her again.

"I ... I ... I'm sorry, Daddy...I...I'm a filthy whore, and a bratty slut who begs for your cock even when it's treated like the garbage that she is."

"What else?"

"I-I'm just just a toy for you, a sophisticated and cute toy for you to use as you like."

"You're absolutely right. What a good girl. You've passed your punishment... at least part of it."

You got behind the lamp post and started working on the knot that kept her tied to it. As soon as you released her, Yoohyeon fell on her knees to the grass, rubbing her sore, red wrists. You didn't even give her a moment to rest when you took her tightly by her arms and forced her to stand up. Now is when the fun part came for you.

It was quite difficult for you to make Yoohyeon walk without falling, you even had to carry her to be able to climb the stairs and get to your room, where you dropped her on the bed. You worked fast on her wrists, tying them behind her back with one of the neckties. The other one got tied around her head, making a gag for her mouth.

Yoohyeon collaborated with you, placing her knees and her face against the mattress for you to lift her butt. Now the cute model was tied up on your bed, ready to be ruthlessly fucked. But the most important thing was missing. Your fingers went to the edge of her panties, sliding them from her ass and then down her legs, revealing her shiny, wet pussy.

You brought two of your fingers to her slit, soaking your fingers in her fluids and then lubricating her tight hole, until you began to slowly stretch it with your middle finger. Yoohyeon let out a small moan, barely audible from the piece of cloth in her mouth.

After a few seconds of lubricating her hole with your saliva, you were finally able to bring your two full fingers up to your knuckles. She was ready.

You quickly undressed, throwing the clothes at random places in the room until you were completely naked behind her. Approaching the edge of the bed, you spat into your hand and brought it to your cock to make it as slippery as possible. You rubbed the tip against her cheeks, still full of red marks, and then against her hole, to push your hips forward and insert a few inches of your shaft into her tight ass.

"Holy shit," you gasped, stretching the walls of her hole inch by inch, until a bit more than half of your cock had disappeared inside her.

You put your hands on her butt, starting to pump in and out of her at a slow pace. Yoohyeon's moans appeared again, this time louder and more frequent. The walls of her hole were suffocating your cock, but you wanted more, and with a hard push you were now completely inside her. You both released a long groan of ecstasy.

The thrusts inside her grew stronger and faster, just like the muffled moans of the pretty blonde girl in front of you. Your fingers of hers dug deep into the flesh of her ass cheeks, using them as support to reach deeper into her hole. Soon the room was filled with the sound of meat crashing against meat.

Yoohyeon mumbled something, but between the gag and the bumping of your pelvis against her ass you couldn't hear anything. In response, you lifted your hand and spanked her hard, leaving a new red mark on her milky skin. She screamed against the fabric.

You continued for a little while, clenching your teeth thanks to the suffocating pressure of her walls around your cock. A merciful light illuminated you at that moment, so you decided to lighten her ''punishment'' a bit. You slid one hand under her body until you reached her pussy, to aggressively rub her clit with two of your fingers. Yoohyeon turned into a trembling mess in a matter of seconds, and judging from the intense spasms that moved her body, you knew that she had reached her orgasm. It was the moment you were waiting to get out of her ass and roll her onto the bed, her bound hands now pressed behind her back against her mattress. You spread her legs wide, and carelessly thrust your cock into the tight, wet walls of her pussy, to fuck her through her still very recent orgasm.

Yoohyeon's eyes filled with tears as you roughly fucked her pussy, whimpering against the already saliva-soaked piece of cloth in her mouth. You grabbed her shins and stretched her legs forward as far as you could, your cock now reaching all the way in with each thrust thanks to the new position.

You placed your hands against the bed on either side of her and leaned forward, Yoohyeon's feet were now on either side of your head while you kept her thighs glued to her abdomen with your arms. Yoohyeon's face was full of tears, now combined with the beads of sweat that fell from your forehead. A moan escapes your mouth with every millisecond that you spend inside her warm pussy, your cock soaked by the combination of thick liquids.

"I'm going to cum inside your dirty pussy, see if that's how you understand your position, little bitch," you said with anger in your voice, almost growling.

The climax was getting closer and closer for you. You wrinkled the sheets on the bed with your fingers, the familiar tickle in your lower body giving you the final signal. With your back straight again, you placed your hands on her thighs and pressed them against her torso. A few last thrusts were enough to take you to the limit, unloading all your cum accumulated from a week ago inside her pussy. Yoohyeon had a second orgasm immediately after she felt your thick seed, her back arched, overwhelmed by the electric shocks that flowed through her body. Fortunately her mouth was covered, otherwise she would have made you deaf by the guttural screams that came from her throat.

You slowed down your thrusts, slower and more sensual until you came out of her pussy, letting your semen flow freely from her pussy to the sheet under her. You were completely exhausted at that time from how much Yoohyeon drained you, your arms were shaking a bit, and your breathing was heavy, you had to make a great effort not to pass out next to her.

The blonde girl's legs slumped on either side of you, her chest rising and falling in a heavy attempt to regulate her breathing. Her eyes were closed as she tried to assimilate the two intense orgasms she had just experienced. You ran both hands under her body and untied the knot of the tie, freeing her wrists, but Yoohyeon was so exhausted that she didn't even move. Then you moved on to the tie that she had as a gag in her mouth, and she was finally free.

You lay down next to her, cupping the side of her face with your hand to gently kiss her small lips. A few minutes passed until Yoohyeon had regained the notion of where she was and who she was; her first instinct was to caress your chest, then snuggle against it. You wrapped your arms around her, returning the affection in the form of caresses on her hair and her back, a complete contrast to what you just did to her.

It wasn't long until you two were overcome with exhaustion, and fell asleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------

It was 6PM, a few hours after the two of you woke up from your restful sleep. You were at your desk, working on the exhausting and not at all easy project that you had to present just a few days later. Yoohyeon was with you in the office, lying on the couch while she looked at her phone; she was practically naked, except for the sweater she had stolen from your closet, so you could easily see her pussy and her ass depending on the position she was in. You weren't very focused on it anyway.

She had insisted on keeping you company that night, despite all the times you had told her that you weren't going to be able to give her all the time she deserved. You definitely didn't deserve such a cute girl.

Your head ached, more than once you had stopped to push the chair back and put your hands to your face, imprisoned by frustration. Yoohyeon calmed you down in each of those moments, massaging your shoulders and stroking your hair; If it weren't for her, you would have turned off your computer and gone to bed crying.

The concentration that you had been working on for about an hour was broken by the ringing of your phone. Your attention was inevitably drawn to him, just like Yoohyeon.

“Who is it?” She asked, sitting on the couch.

You grabbed your phone from the side of your keyboard and looked at the name on the screen. Oh no, not again. It was Gahyeon, and she must have been furious that you hung up on her a few hours ago and didn't call her again. You were in trouble.

"Uh ... Gahyeon." You were unsure whether to answer, or not.

"Respond"

"But..."

Yoohyeon got up from the couch and walked over to your desk to crawl under it, kneeling in front of you and between your legs.

"Respond" she insisted, pulling down your pajama bottoms and boxers in one go.

You were hesitant at first, but finally answered the call just as Yoohyeon started kissing the inside of your thighs and your balls to wake up your cock.

"H-hello?"

"Do you think I'm a fucking joke?!"

"No, of course not, it's just that I forgot to call you, sorry."

After a few seconds, your cock was completely hard thanks to Yoohyeon's kisses and caresses. She planted a few more kisses on your balls, before going to the tip and take your shaft in her mouth, no foreplay, or anything.

"You're a fucking liar! You hung up because you didn't want to talk to me."

You gasped away from the phone before answering.

"What the hell are you talking about? I got a call from my boss, it wasn't pleasant at all."

You were doing your best to make your voice sound as normal as possible, but it was difficult with a blonde beauty between your legs giving you a slow, sensual blowjob. You held on tightly to the armrest of your chair, regulating your breath.

"We had agreed to go to dinner today, what about that?"

"It depends on tonight whether I’m removed from my post o-or nnnnot."

Yoohyeon made you lose control of your voice for a moment, she had taken all of your cock down to her throat, her nose resting against your pelvis. After a few seconds she released you from her mouth, jerking you off at a considerate speed. You crossed stares with her, and you knew she was definitely going for more.

"Huh? What 's wrong? You good?"

"Oh yeah. I just, uh... I think I have a cold." A very bad lie, but it was the best you could do at the moment.

Yoohyeon spat on your shaft, moving her hand up and down a few times to spread the saliva until it was slippery. She brought you back to the warmth of her mouth, but this time she was slurping aggressively on your cock, like she wanted to prove that she gave better blowjobs than Gahyeon. That wasn't possible, but she was pretty close.

"Oh really? Make yourself a hot chocolate, it must be very cold there." Gahyeon would go into overprotective mom mode whenever you had a problem, no matter how upset she was with you. That was an advantage.

"Y-yeah, I'll do that right now, then I'll go to bed."

You closed your eyes and clenched your hand into a fist, your lips pursed with pleasure. Yoohyeon was giving you a frenzied messy blowjob as she moaned, sending vibrations along your shaft. She didn’t have the same fleshy lips as Gahyeon, so she had to use other methods to give you the same pleasure that the redhead gave you—in this case, she used her hand in conjunction to her mouth, in a corkscrew motion.

"Okay, go rest then, please. I'll call you in the morning to see how you are."

"Aaaalr-right, thank you dear. Rest well."

As soon as you said goodbye and hung up the call, Yoohyeon released you from her mouth with a strong gulp of air, threads of saliva connecting the tip of your cock to her lips.

"You are so mean, Kim Yoohyeon."

"I couldn't let you talk to that bitch so freely," she replied with a bright smile, your cock throbbing right next to her face. "Sorry Daddy."

"Shut up and have a seat."

Yoohyeon took the hint perfectly, standing up to turn her back on you and pull the sweater up to her waist, sensually shaking her round ass just a short distance from your face, and after a few seconds of tease, she sat on your cock, trapping it between her cheeks.

She rested her hands on your thighs, giving you a slow and sexy lap dance. It was easy for her to make it feel amazing, thanks to how slippery she had made your shaft, which rubbed so easily across her asscheeks and her slit. You brought your hands to her lower back, caressing her soft skin under the sweater as she rubbed her now wet pussy against your manhood.

Not being able to take it much longer, Yoohyeon lifted her hips and took your cock in one hand, lining it up with the entrance of her pussy and impaling herself inch by inch until your shaft had disappeared inside her.

You two let out satisfied groans. Yoohyeon let you feel the warmth from her walls around you, then began to move up and down on your cock, which stretched the tight walls of her pussy with each entry.

You brought your hands to her firm asscheeks, giving them a strong squeeze and then a little slap to one of them. Yoohyeon let out a long moan and dug her nails into your thighs, jumping faster and faster on your cock until your office was filled with clap sounds.

"That's it baby... bounce on that dick."

Yoohyeon leaned over to the desk and held onto it with her hands, hitting your pelvis with all the force her hips could give. You rested your arms on either side of your chair, enjoying the lascivious show while you felt like you were in heaven.

But as much as you loved to watch your cock in and out of that beautiful ass, you wanted to take control on your own. You stopped Yoohyeon's bounces and got up with her from the chair, without leaving her pussy. She took advantage of her flexibility, leaving her legs slightly apart and her back completely horizontal to her desk, her head just above your keyboard. You loved that girl's creativity.

You grabbed her waist with both hands, starting to roughly thrust in and out of her. Yoohyeon moaned loudly and pushed her hair away from her face to turn to look at you, your gazes met each other, and that only gave you even more energy to fuck her as hard as she deserved.

You grabbed a handful of her hair in one hand, pulling it hard as your cock made her a mess. Yoohyeon's legs wobbled, followed by a series of intense spasms that signaled that she had reached orgasm. You held her even stronger by her waist, keeping her from collapsing to her knees against the carpet. You fucked her through her climax, but you realized that she couldn't hold herself for much longer, so you took her by her arms and placed her upright on her legs; now her back was against your chest, and in that way, you continued with your rough thrusts inside her, kissing her nape and her neck.

"I'm very close... where do you want it, honey?"

"I-i-i-in my-y-y m-mouth."

You quickly came out of her pussy, and Yoohyeon fell equally on her knees in front of you, sticking her tongue out and looking at you with the most sensual stare a girl could give you. You pressed the tip of your cock against her tongue, and began to jerk off until you shot long threads of cum into her mouth.

"Holy fuck..." you gasped, dropping your head back with your eyes closed, shooting every last drop.

Lowering your gaze, you saw the pool of cum accumulated inside the blonde girl's mouth, she let you see it for a few seconds, until she swallowed it. Then she opened her mouth, for you to see that she had taken every drop of it.

"That’s a good girl..." You rub her chin with two of your fingers, and Yoohyeon responded with an innocent smile.

"That was delicious daddy." Yoohyeon sucked on the tip of your cock, making sure to clean it completely before standing up and walk towards the bathroom you had in your office.

You pulled up your pajama bottoms and boxers, collapsing back into your chair. You had to go back to work, but this time the effort would be worth it, since a beautiful blonde girl was going to be waiting for you, whatever time it was.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Spren Notes:

This is a continuation of Service Room, in case anyone hadn't noticed lol. I had so much fun writing anal for the first time, I really hope you enjoyed it.

Also, this piece didn't go through editing, which is why the story is full of small details to be corrected. I just hope that doesn't affect your reading experience, thank you all!

#yoohyeon #yoohyeonsmut #dreamcatcher #dreamcatchersmut #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #male reader insert #male reader smut

751 notes · View notes

vvienne · 3 years

Text

RANWAN FIC RECS

Absolute Zero by jitterati

Pathologically solitary academic Chu Wanning left behind a life of research to enlist with the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps Jaeger team when giant monsters began to emerge from the Pacific ocean, eager to leave his personal entanglements behind him and join humanity's collective battle against the threat of extinction.

His goal is to build an artificial intelligence that will allow a pilot to operate a Jaeger mech solo - eliminating the need for pilot compatibility and the mortifying ordeal of being totally known by another person, a "neurological handshake" known colloquially as the drift.

He didn't expect his former students to follow him all the way to front line of the war against the kaiju.

Featuring lots of side character interaction, pining, yearning, questions on the nature of personhood, friendship between jerks, people coping badly with loss, snarky AI, and giant robots. Illustrations by Saika & Daru

Husky and his White Kitten Disciple by JustAMoon123

Within a lonely heart, the seeds of hatred start to grow.

-A 2ha Age and Role-Reversal AU.-

NOTE: This Story is Now E Rated!

[Before meeting Chu Wanning, Mo Ran had drawn his power exclusively from the Wood side of his dual Spiritual Root, and his Qi had always glowed green.

Now, only when in battle did it do so, with Bugui’s blade encased in a tyrannical green light.

Outside of battle, like when he set barriers of warmth; or made Crystal Butterflies to tease golden flowers; or cast a small array to keep a box of food warm, his Qi manifested with a gentle red glow.

Mo Ran’s Wood was destructive, while his Fire was protective.

Ah, Mo Weiyu, Mo Weiyu. Even your power betrays you.]

Burn, Pine, and Perish by moonqueenmaia

It’s been two days since Taxian-Jun’s last visit, and Mo Ran hasn’t touched Chu Wanning at all, beyond gentle and fleeting caresses. Chu Wanning decides to take matters into his own hands by surprising Mo Ran when he comes back to their home after a trip down the mountain.

it's no coincidence (it's a kitty-incidence) by lanzhan (gothguk)

There’s a white cat lounging in the middle of Mo Ran's bed.

to touch you with bare hands (even if it burns) by moonqueenmaia

Chu Wanning is a renowned professor of mechanical engineering at Sisheng Peak University. Beautiful, lonely, and talented beyond belief, he has spent his 32 years mostly by himself, silently and secretly yearning for affection and companionship. Yet Chu Wanning has resolved to himself that he will spend the rest of his life alone, no matter his hidden fantasies.

Enter Taxian-jun, an unruly, arrogant, and struggling student, fiery and domineering, who comes in and shatters the calm of Chu Wanning's life. They enter into an agreement, both burying their feelings underneath a storm of lust and lies. Yet amidst it all, something deeper may be helplessly and slowly blooming.

It is up to them to cultivate it, or destroy it for good.

cursed by devilsoupe

Chu Wanning and his disciples are sent to investigate an abandoned village, and Chu Wanning is hit with a curse.

Mo Ran was determined to treat his shizun respectfully in this life, but what choice does he have?

liar liar cock on fire by lofikv

I (32M) walked in on my roommate (23M) masturbating in our living room. Ever since then I couldn't erase the image of his penis in my mind but I found a sex toy online that is almost as big as him, so I bought it and tried it on myself so that I can imagine how he would feel inside me. I have also been romantically attracted to him ever since we started living together. How can I cope with this?

UPDATE: He caught me in the middle of an emergency.

(Absolute) Unit 311 by devilsoupe

Chu Wanning doesn't have a soulmark.

Neither does Mo Ran.

ducks entering highway by Sectionladvivi

Mo Ran finds out his well-respected, MILF-coded, tears-of-angels-tight-ass robotics professor moonlights as an erotic novelist. He immediately leverages this knowledge for an opportunity to play tonsil hockey.

to yearn by devilsoupe

Chu Wanning starts to cough up flowers. Taxian-Jun is angry. Chu Wanning is not allowed to die pining for someone else.

When it starts happening again in his second life, Mo Ran knows enough to worry.

from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom by Wildehack (tyleet)

Taxian Jun is the victim of a flower curse.

sticky fingers by fakeplasticlily

The man tosses the towel unceremoniously back at Mo Ran’s chest, like he’s personally offended by it. And the fact that his hands had just been all over said chest barely minutes earlier, maybe. “Please pack a box of egg tarts with extra custard filling, a box of red bean paste buns with extra syrup, a rice pudding with extra candied fruit garnish, and a box of osmanthus cakes with extra sweet pear jam.” Mo Ran’s eyes grow progressively wider as he lists the items. It’s him. Not the suburban mother of four, not the elderly guy dealing with a midlife crisis, but quite possibly the hottest guy he’s ever seen. Who also happens to have the highest sugar tolerance Mo Ran has seen in a human being in his two years of running this bakery.

Hard to Love The Lonely Night by bloodsongs

Chu Wanning glares up at him, adjusting his women’s robes. “Still, why couldn’t you have been the wife instead?”

Coughing politely, Mo Ran looks to the side, avoiding his gaze. “Shizun’s skills with the illusion barrier far surpass this humble disciple’s, and, well…”

He doesn’t need to complete his sentence—it’s infuriating, but Mo Ran is now taller than him, broader than him, larger than him. Very much so. The young sapling he raised in Sisheng Peak is now a full-fledged tree, a man built like the mountains Chu Wanning has seen in his travels.

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran pretend to be a married couple visiting a small mountain town to investigate some suspicious disappearances. Mini Canon AU casefic. Contains spoilers up to Chapter 130 or so of the novel.

Purple Ink by jeejaschocolate

Chu Wanning is a robotics engineer who lives a life of isolation and loneliness, only partially due to his chronic illness. Eventually he gets so sick that he requires the help of a full-time medical assistant.

Of course, these days, all those jobs are given to CyberLife androids.

Chu Wanning resents the android they give him. From his fiery eyes to his long black hair, to his incomparable tenderness and consideration for Wanning’s feelings.

He resents him. All the way until he falls in love with him.

Fallen Flowers in Swallows' Nests by bloodsongs

You deserve better—I refuse to disrespect you ever again. I want to be better. I must be better.

But I don’t know how. I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know where Taxian-Jun ends and Mo-Zongshi begins.

I only know now that I cannot lie to myself: I want you so fiercely that I burn with it, I am consumed with the desire to make you mine and mine alone. To become one with you, feeling your fire twine with mine.

Or, Chu Wanning finds letters from Mo-Zongshi that were never shared with him.

These hitherto undiscovered letters cover a range of emotions that weren't present in the book he gifted his Shizun: contrition, yearning, and desire.

Counterpoint by senchafloat

Five years ago, Mo Ran was just a boy who loved playing piano—there were many things he didn't know. He didn't know how capricious and unforgiving the world of classical music could be. He didn't know just how lucky he was to have Chu Wanning as his teacher.

Five years later, Chu Wanning is now a renowned concert pianist, and Mo Ran is an upstart conducting student. When Chu Wanning shows up unannounced at his alma mater, Mo Ran has plenty of questions, along with a desire to prove his worth to his old teacher. But as it turns out, Chu Wanning isn't as invincible as he once seemed. As old secrets come up to the surface, the two of them are forced to reinvent the ways they'll make music together.

impatient to adore you by riverdanceeee

At some heartbreaking point in his life, Mo Ran accepted that Chu Wanning would never reciprocate his feelings, so he dealt with it as any other person would. He'd rid himself of his affection, respect their friendship, and learn to move on. But Mo Ran's affection runs too deep, and when any opportunity to spend time with Chu Wanning knocks on his door, he goes running to answer and accept. Even if it means he has to break up a potentially dangerous dog fighting ring.

To Bow Before A Willow Vine by bloodsongs

“I…” Mo Ran hadn’t thought that far. He shakes his head, lowering his head in deference, resting his forehead against Chu Wanning’s knuckles. "I'll do anything you want of me."

The silence stretches on for a beat too long.

"Anything?" Chu Wanning says eventually, tilting his head.

Written for 2Ha Week, Day 4: Reverse AU for the 0.5 timeline. When Chu Wanning storms Sisheng Peak and crowns himself the cultivation world's new emperor, Mo Ran trades his life for Xue Meng's. Contains spoilers for up to the end of the novel.

Call me by my name by rinsled05

When the man called Taxian-Jun arrives, years later, it’s the coming of a storm.

He sweeps into a dinner appointment between Chu Wanning and a client, clad in black, a smirk tugging at his mouth. Over the spark of irritation, Chu Wanning can’t help but admire his lean frame, the way his hair, cut rebelliously short, falls over smoldering, dark eyes. The way he towers over him, even when Chu Wanning rises to full height.

Chu Wanning’s heart races as Taxian-Jun leans in close, ignoring the shouts and gasps around them.

“Sakaki of Ran,” he purrs in their native tongue. “You’re mine.”

Chu Wanning lifts his chin. “I don’t know you.”

“You will,” Taxian-Jun says, and leaves.

In which Chu Wanning is a courtesan serving Chinese merchants in Nagasaki, Japan, and Taxian-Jun decides to make him his.

荷官牌型 ♠️ The Croupier's Hand by bloodsongs

In deep financial straits after losing his job as a teacher, a desperate Chu Wanning becomes a croupier at Sisheng's new casino.

The once sleepy town of Sisheng Peak grows busier by the day as the casino draws more and more tourists to their mountains. Consumed by his lingering regrets over the worst mistake of his life that destroyed his teaching career, Chu Wanning is too distracted to worry about anything else but his next shift, his next paycheck.

Except that's when Mo Ran, the reason Chu Wanning lost everything, returns to Sisheng Peak.

As the heir to the casino.

White Rabbit Club by minkit

Desperate to rid himself of a few pesky things called virginity and desire, Chu Wanning waltzes into a world he knows little about and right into the embrace of a mysterious stranger who reminds him of the student he's been dreaming about all year. The lust fueled dreams his student stars in are the very reason Chu Wanning applied to the sex club in the first place, and now he's desperate to get rid of these filthy impulses once and for all.

Congratulations, Chu Wanning, on your acceptance into the White Rabbit Club. We hope you enjoy your stay.

Risk and Restraint by purloinedinpetrograd

There is nobody Mo Ran works with who does not love him. He’s worked hard to cultivate this image while he climbs the corporate ladder at Sisheng, and it’s paid off in dividends. He’s in every WeChat group. He can call in favors with any division of any department. He can make even the tightest of deadlines relax their stranglehold on his team.

That is, there is nobody except, of course, Chu Wanning.

A Lingering Sweetness by theherocomplex

Chu Wanning is now all too aware of what he looks like: a dry stick of a man, never handsome, angular and cold and pale. A drab, short-tempered creature, as appealing as a splinter in one's foot. But Mo Ran looks at him as if he will never get his fill, and part of Chu Wanning thinks, What if —?

At the end of the line by PearlAquaBlue

“So … I reckon someone thought you needed to loosen up a little bit. Now that you’re here, want to try it?”

Chu Wanning hangs up. Throws her phone on her pillow with a disgusted glare after it. Stands up and paces to the kitchen in long, angry strides. Her cheeks are burning. With trembling fingers, she grabs a glass and pours herself some water, gulping it down in one go. It doesn’t help much. She grips the kitchen counter tightly, then marches back into the bedroom to glare at the phone again. Her fingertips itch, and it’s as if some kind of magnetic force draws her closer and closer to her bed until her fingertips are but an inch away from that tempting black mirror. Before she knows it, she’s unlocked it unsteadily and pressed “repeat” on the last call.

“Welcome to Sisheng Peak – ”

“And what would that entail?” she asks, a little too breathless.

Let's Fall in Love for the Night by purloinedinpetrograd

Chu Wanning could only stare in horror as a large cloud of sickeningly yellow pollen rose from the field, blanketing the place where Mo Ran stood in a heavy fog. “Um,” he said lamely.

“Fuck,” Mo Ran cursed, and Chu Wanning didn’t even have the heart to chastise him for his coarse language, because he was too preoccupied wrestling the surge of fear at seeing his disciple disappear behind the haze of that indeterminately threatening dust.

A million terrible possibilities raced through his mind, each one more dramatic and gruesome than the last. His heart hammered against his ribcage, threatening to crack the bones. “Mo Ran,” he said slowly, “I think you should tell me what that does, now.”

Xue Zhengyong sends Chu Wanning and Mo Ran on a mission to find a specific ingredient for some concoction of his wife’s. Chu Wanning is torn between rejoicing at the chance to spend time alone with Mo Ran... and grieving over the very same thing.

But, well, it’s just flowers. What could go wrong, right? (Spoiler alert: it’s sex pollen.)

the day dawns in your hues by localshabba

2ha Week 2020 Day 1 prompt - Haitang

---

Schoolteacher Mo Ran is having an ordinary day until he has an awkward encounter with the notoriously rigid school librarian, which leads to the start of something new.

Also features: flowers, dinosaurs and lots of tenderness and pining.

helping hands by verity

When Mo Ran was but a young, innocent, virtuous grad student—well, one of those things—she built that couch from a flatpack box with her own two hands. Over the years, the smell of polyester and cheap foam padding has given way to an equally aromatic blend of Chu Wanning's haitang blossom perfume, spilled coffee, and white lithium grease. Chu Wanning herself is always perfectly dressed without a stain in sight. Even right now, her head tucked onto one folded arm, the other loosely gripping her tablet, she looks so formal.

Mo Ran gently rests a hand on Chu Wanning's socked ankle where it peeks out of those tailored white trousers. She really should behave herself.

She really should... behave herself...

in plain sight by localshabba

Written for a prompt fill in the 2ha Kink Meme.

---

"I have a surprise," Mo Ran breathed, coming to stand so close behind him that his breath landed on Chu Wanning's nape. Not touching Chu Wanning any other way, because he likes to make Chu Wanning lean back just a little bit, to seek out that contact himself.

"I think Chu-laoshi will enjoy it."

Chu Wanning is sure he agreed to the whole idea; he's just unclear on when. Things got hazy around the point when Mo Ran turned him around by the shoulders, got down on his knees and...well. Apparently he'd skipped breakfast that morning.

When he returned to his senses, his clothes were all neatly tucked into place, not a stain on them, and a charmingly pink sexual aid was nestled comfortably up his--ahem, inside him.

---

Now available in Spanish!

casually acquainted by tagteamme

Chu Wanning knows what he is and what he isn’t. And where he lacks in pleasantries and outward appeal, he makes up for in untouchable grace and dignity.

It threatens to unravel once he meets a familiar face in an unfamiliar city.

“So quick to run away from me, Chu-laoshi,” Mo Ran says, voice gently teasing as Chu Wanning refuses to make eye contact with him. “After you came all the way from…”

He trails off, waiting for Chu Wanning to let him know, but he sees the map open on Chu Wanning’s phone and grins wider. “You want directions?”

Chu Wanning clears his throat, and shakes his head. He should say something— instead, he stays silent as he looks down at his phone and punches in the hotel name again.

Happily, his phone tells him to try again when he has signal.

The Right Hand of Light by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger)

Chu Wanning is asleep on the bed, clutching his hands tightly to his chest and curled in on himself. He’s still wearing the same robes he was in in the water prison. On the writing desk, a bowl of water and clean linen for bandages sit untouched, and a tub of bathwater has cooled without being used. Mo Ran sighs to himself. Wanning is truly hopeless.

He sits on the side of the bed and touches Chu Wanning’s shoulder. “Wanning,” he says. “Wanning, wake up.”

---

Rare 0.5 tenderness, after the water prison.

nothing can consume you by tagteamme

Mo Ran’s violent history has never had to catch up to him.

It’s already embedded itself into him as scars on his body, as a tattoo on his forearm, as the lingering taste of blood in his sleep and finally, as the searing brand pressed against his chest before he’s thrown into the sea as punishment. He knows that this is where all his chances come to an end.

But as the deep fathom of the water swallows him up, something else saves him and pulls him to a tiny cove tucked away off the coast of an overlooked port town. When he wakes up under the care of a mythical creature wearing a familiar face, an even older and more distant past finally finds him.

#ranwan #2ha #erha #chu wanning #mo ran #2ha recs #fic recs #2ha spoilers

386 notes · View notes

lonelyasawhisper · 2 years

Text

Queen

Harry Doherty, Melody Maker, 18 September 1976

BRIAN MAY remembers Queen's first-ever free gig well. It was in London, five years ago, when the band invited 120 people along to a lecture theatre in Imperial College to hear them play. Orange juice and popcorn were served to the 80 or so who bothered to show their their faces and lend an ear.

Since that unremarkable debut, the capital has hosted many landmarks in Queen's well-planned climb to the top: the Imperial College gig in September, '75; the Rainbow in March, '74 (promoter Mel Bush convinced the band that they were big enough to sell out a concert there); two sell-out gigs at The Rainbow during November '75; and, last year, four shows at Hammersmith Odeon, The icing on the cake, to confirm that Queen have well and truly arrived, is on Saturday, when the band play in front of perhaps 200,000 at Hyde Park. They insist however, that the gig should not be interpreted as a "we're a big band now" gesture.

"I really hope it's not taken in that way," May said sincerely. "There must be other ways of doing that. You can play Wembley Stadium. I really hope that it's taken in the spirit that we're thinking of – just a nice thing to do. It's a dream to be able to do a free gig in Hyde Park, like the old days. It's as romantic as that.

"I don't think there's ever been a show like we're going to do in the Park. We're not going to hold back at all just because it's a free concert. It'll be the whole works. I hope it all fits together as a very nice and peaceful and enjoyable afternoon. It's a way of saying thank you. It's an adventure, fighting your way through 15 million miles of red tape. It's quite hilarious."

Had anyone mentioned to Queen four years ago the possibility that they would be topping a concert in Hyde Park, it's likely that the band members would not have batted an eyelid and would have accepted that it was most likely that they would eventually play a gig of such magnitude. They always knew they'd be a big band, and they were conscious, from the start, of the importance of creating a highly distinctive and personal sound that could be associated only with them.

QUEEN'S ROOTS lie in a band called Smile, which Brian May (guitar) and Roger Taylor (drums) played together in. When the singer, Tim Staffell, left to pursue a solo career, Freddie Mercury came along and persuaded them to form a band with him. After six months, John Deacon joined on bass and Queen was formed.

But had the life of rock and roll turned sour, the men in Queen could easily have returned to comfortable professions: Mercury, who designed Queen's logo, studied graphic design and illustration; May received a B.Sc in physics; Taylor graduated in biology; and Deacon won a first-class Honours degree in electronics.

The result of a studio trial at London's De Lane Lea studios was a demo tape that consisted of most of the songs that would appear on the first album, and EMI rushed to sign the band. A first single, 'Keep Yourself Alive', was released during October 1973, and flopped, and the band's gig as support act on a Mott The Hoople tour earned them meagre attention.

The second album, Queen II, however, broke the deadlock, and it included the first hit single, 'Seven Seas Of Rhye'. From then on, it was plain sailing for Queen.

They soon consolidated their success as a singles band with the snappy 'Killer Queen' and, as an albums band, with Sheer Heart Attack. Then last year, 'Bohemian Rhapsody', the six-minute opus with the operatic middle-section, gave them a much wider audience, who went out in force to sample the variety of wares on A Night At The Opera.

Now they're one of Britain's biggest bands.

Queen boast three strong vocalists – Freddie Mercury, Brian May and Roger Taylor. Mercury's lead vocal gives immediate identification, but behind that, Queen worked on achieving a notable harmony sound, with guidance from May. While Mercury's was the voice the public associated with, much of the success in the harmony vocals falls on to the incredible range of Taylor.

With their own identity intact, Queen refused to follow the accepted guidelines for success – working constantly on the club circuit – and instead played at parties for friends.

Taylor: "We didn't really want to get into that small club circuit. We all wanted to play big, big concerts, and didn't want to get stuck in that circuit for years and years, which is so easy to do, no matter how good you are."

On their four albums to date, Queen, Queen II, Sheer Heart Attack and A Night At The Opera, Queen have meticulously stamped their own sound, and earned enemies because they've been so fussy about their work.

Sheer Heart Attack and A Night At The Opera were particularly open to these attacks, but the days are past when Queen have been affected by such superficial judgments.

They go into the studio to get the best sound they possibly can, and adopt whatever means are at their considerable disposal to do so.

Queen's first album is still considered by many of their fans as their best. Like most debut discs, it's a work that encompasses the material that has been accumulated and played on the road for a few years before they got a chance to record, but many of the songs continue to form an integral part of the stage act.

'Keep Yourself Alive' and 'Liar' are classics of the band that'll probably never be dropped, while 'Doing All Right' and 'Son And Daughter' are contrasting rockers that could be dispensed with to make room for new material.

Overall, the album epitomised what Queen were about, not just a hard rock band, but a group of musicians well into melody, playing with a subtlety that many Seventies bands had ignored.

The music was a Seventies music, influenced and flavoured by the Sixties but structured and orchestrated (especially May's guitar work) in a fashion that owed little to the past.

May. "It had the youth and freshness which was never regained, because you're only young once. It had a lot of rough edges, a lot of bad playing, a lot of bad production, but obviously we didn't have that time to spend on it, which we did subsequently. It was all done in odd times when Trident Studios were available, so it sounds a bit bitty to me, and sound-wise, it's very patchy.

"But I would never think of going back and re-doing it or anything like that, because I think it has a freshness which we won't have again.

"I still like 'The Night Comes Down', which was done as a demo on our own at De Lane Lea Studios. It was the first time we'd been, as a group, in the studios together.

"I'd also mention 'My Fairy King' because that was a portent of things to come. That was an experimental thing. It was the beginning really of Fred playing the piano. He used to play for his own amusement but was very against putting a piano in the stage act. He didn't feel confident I suppose, and also felt that he wanted to move around, didn't want to be stuck playing a keyboard. The whole track was built around that and the backing track was done on the piano.

"The piano is gradually creeping in on the stage act now, which is good. It gives us so much more scope. From a thing like 'My Fairy King' came 'Black Queen', on the second album, and then 'Bohemian Rhapsody."

Of all four albums, Queen II remains firmly my favourite. A work that brimmed over with inventiveness, it was Queen at their most consistent and certainly at their most mature, musically. The songs were outstanding, complemented brilliantly on record by their instrumental skill. Brian May's role as guitarist on Queen II was not as guitar hero, but of one who worked totally with the group to give a strong, unique sound. And I don't think that Freddie Mercury has out-matched his Queen II performance on any other record.

The album had most of what is good about Queen. The songs reflected versatility in that department. From May came the classic in the moving 'Some Day One Day', and, of course, Mercury penned the first hit single, 'Seven Seas Of Rhye', while the two contributed the tracks that were to form the loose concept of the album, 'White Queen (As It Began)' (May) and 'The March Of The Black Queen' (Mercury), the battle between good and evil. Mercury also gave us the ravaging 'Ogre Battle', with its savage battle sequence.

To me, Queen II was an album which gave the band a direction, and to dabble adventurously with rock at such an early stage in their career was a move that displayed unusual confidence in their own ability. Strangely enough, the subsequent albums, Sheer Heart Attack and A Night At The Opera, have not portrayed the unity evident on Queen II.

May: "I must admit it's my favourite. It was the first time we've been able to – having got all those things out of our system on the first album – construct an album from a white sheet of paper.

"Everything that went on that album, we'd decided was right for the album out of a lot of songs we had around at the time. We really did try and shape it into a coherent whole, both musically and thematically.

"It really was, I think, the most considered album, because that album had been dreamed of right back before we made the first album.

"We knew we were getting all the stuff out of our systems so that we could concentrate on making an album and doing all these orchestral things that we'd always wanted to do with guitars and voices; doing the more fairly emotional songs and structured songs, which we couldn't even think of doing on stage but which we could do on album. All that was safe for the second album.

"The songs have a lot of meaning for us, and for our audience. That album crystallized what Queen was, I think, because, at that time, all the equipment we had to offer was on display in a way, the songwriting and the means of treating an album separate from a stage show. I think that set our direction more than anything else.

"Queen II was a point where all the adventurous ideas came out. There are seeds in Queen II of almost everything we've done since, but it was so compressed that all of it didn't come out unless you'd listened very closely."

If Queen II offered adventure, excitement and a definitive Queen sound, then Sheer Heart Attack is, in retrospect, the calm after the storm, an album which presented nothing startlingly new from the band, save a bunch of excellent, slickly produced songs.

Again, Freddie Mercury and Brian May dominated the songwriting, but the contributions of Roger Taylor ('Tenement Funster' – Taylor averages one rocker per album) and, for the first time, John Deacon (the soothing and poppy 'Misfire') widened the writing scope a little.

Mercury's songs veered from the smartness of 'Killer Queen' and 'Flick Of The Wrist' to the poignancy of slower numbers like 'Lily Of The Valley' and 'In The Lap Of The Gods'.

May's (contributions to the album, however, were more defined, for apart from one track, 'Dear Friends', his songs were mainly straight-ahead rockers, like 'Brighton Rock', 'Now I'm Here' and the slightly lesser-paced 'She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos)'.

Sheer Heart Attack has been the only album on which May has stuck so closely to the hard rockers. He usually shows other sides of his character by writing well-structured, often complicated pieces.

May: "I do feel an affinity for the hard-rock bands who are not ashamed to do hard rock all night and do it incredibly well, bands like Status Quo. I think that if I wasn't doing what I'm doing now, that's what I'd be doing, and I'd gain a lot of satisfaction out of it.

"It's one of the hardest things in the world to be a really good rock band. To write really good rock songs is much harder than writing little things that all fit together well, so I suppose that's what is in my mind when I do those.

"I never like to see us get too far away from rock. I hope we're never too sophisticated, if that's the word, and that we'll always be able to just get out there and do some rock and roll.

"I think that would be a loss really, because it is not to be sneered at in any way, and to do that kind of thing is, as I say, as demanding as doing any of the complex things we do."

So Sheer Heart Attack was the straightest rock album Queen have yet recorded, strong but safe. Although it failed to present an experimental band, which the second album did, and although it worked within a much tighter framework, it was the album which virtually broke Queen as a major band world-wide.

May: "I regard Sheer Heart Attack as the most polished album, the most finished product, in the sense that we were playing better and the songs are all quite separate and treated in their own ways.

"It was done more for contrast than for continuity. The songs contrast but, at the same time, we weren't going out on any great limbs. Everything was a logical development from Queen II, although people didn't realise it at the time, but I think they do now."

May's right. Sheer Heart Attack was a neatly-packaged, concise rock work, unlike last year's release, A Night At The Opera, which displayed the spirit of adventure that marked Queen II.

Queen were well established when the time came to record their fourth album and they decided that they'd spend whatever period was necessary on finishing the new album.

They obviously went into the studios determined that the end product would portray a band much more diverse musically than any previous album, which it did.

There were typical Queen rockers in 'Death On Two Legs' and 'Sweet Lady' and typical Queen symphonies in the brilliant 'Prophet's Song' and 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. Songs like those are expected from Queen.

Not expected were the vaudevillean 'Lazing On A Sunday Afternoon', folky '39', jazzy 'Good Company' and middle-of-the-road love song, 'Love Of My Life'.

It was Queen putting themselves out on a limb again, saying "Look, we're not just a rock band we're something deeper than that. Here's the proof."

Pretentious though it might seem to say it, A Night At The Opera pulled them away from comparisons with heavy-metal giants, Led Zeppelin, and pushed them nearer to the Beatles. By becoming more diverse and writing a wider range of material. Queen had made themselves more accessible to a wider public.

A Night At The Opera, in my opinion, still had a few loose ends that weren't completely tied up, but the next album will probably see the full fruition of the ideas. For all intents and purposes, the album was to Queen what Sergeant Pepper was to the Beatles. It's opened so many unexplored areas that have to be followed – at the risk of losing original fans.

May: "Night At the Opera is really the conundrum, because I don't really think of it as a very commercial album. But it was the one which broke all the records. It's not nearly as easy-listening an album as Sheer Heart Attack. There's a lot of very uncomfortable things about it.

"We were deciding to branch out again. It was a conscious decision. Thinking that Sheer Heart Attack had been successful but safe, if you know what I mean, with A Night At The Opera we wanted to be adventurous again, but, at the same time, use the expertise which we'd learned in doing Sheer Heart Attack, and in doing all the millions of gigs in between.

"I'm pleased with it on the whole. It's got some very accessible things and also some very inaccessible things."

Queen's fascination for, and addiction to, recording studios, however, has taken its toll on the stage act. When they had finished recording A Night At The Opera, the band had two days to rehearse a stage act that'd be taken around the world.

The result has been that the stage act, good though it is, hasn't compared with recorded performances, which isn't surprising when nowhere near the same thought is put into making it original. The signs are that that approach will change this year.

May: "It has been quite a problem. What we've decided on for these few gigs at the moment is to do a half-way thing, with a few new songs thrown in.

"It's right for what we're doing because they're unusual gigs and a lot of people will see us who've never seen us before. It's right to present the complete history of what we have been. For the next tour – the one after these gigs – that'll be the one where we start re-structuring.

"In the case of the last tour, there was almost no rehearsal, because we went ahead and planned all the tour and worked ourselves to death to try and get the album finished and there were only two days between finishing the album and going on tour.

"But for the next tour, we'll rehearse. We're not going to make the same mistake again. Maybe we could have pulled out something special if we'd had more time to rehearse, so this time we're going to finish the album, make sure we have the right time for rehearsal and then go on tour."

QUEEN HAVE maintained that record performance and stage performance should be treated as totally separate entities, and that when they do one thing on record, there should be no obligation to repeat the feat in front of a live audience. Their stage act comes in the form of a compromise which works well.

The band adapt their songs as best they can for live work and, to bridge the gap between the perfect sound on record, they create an atmosphere around their set that involves their audience totally; so suddenly it does not matter to punters any more whether or not they play songs as on record.

The set at the Edinburgh the other week was further proof of Queen following this logic, when they took it a step further than last year's British tour.

For the duration of the set, dry ice is used to create a hazy mist on stage, so that the band are given a sort of obscure presence that captures the attention of onlookers.

Individually, songs are treated with whatever effects they need to transmit the feeling in them: smoke bombs in the battle sequence of 'Ogre Battle', dry ice to create a cloud effect on 'In The Lap Of The Gods'. Queen's stage act is a show in the true sense of the word.

However, the general criticism of this show is that Queen could do a lot more to recreate the sound of their records, and that the "separate entity" statement is a lame excuse, an easy cop-out to save them from a lot of bother. 10cc, people will say, go on stage and recreate their recorded sound, using tapes and whatever else is needed (an extra musician), quite comfortably. Why not Queen?

Taylor: "We could never what we do on record. We try to get as near as we can. We've never used any outside musicians either on stage or on record. It's not because of any strict policy, more due to personal satisfaction, by dragging it out of ourselves. We like experimenting with instruments and voices to get the effect on record that we want.

"We don't really try to recreate the sound on stage. I mean, you can't do a thing like 'Prophet's Song' like the record on stage. It's like a six-part harmony, and there's only three singers. There's no way that you can do it.

"Those are problems that we've got to solve ourselves, but if it sounds good, I don't think anybody can have cause for complaint: If it doesn't sound good, fair enough.

"All you can do is do either medium to the best of your ability at the time, and in the studio, you have so much time and so many different things, you have all the advantages – so why not make it as perfect as you can, even if it does make the stage act a harder thing to do?

"You say about using tapes, as 10cc do; well, I don't agree with that. When an audience comes to a concert, they come to hear music played live, not to hear backing tapes.

"All I can say is that we do the best we can within both mediums, and we're honest in both. I don't think that saying we treat recording and playing live as separate entities is a cop-out, I think that's honest. If we wanted to cop out we'd use lots of tapes on stage. The harmonies on stage are us singing, they're not tape-loops.

"When we go on stage, we want to make people enjoy themselves, to lift them. We're certainly not being political in any way at the moment. Perhaps a bit later on in all this, we'll want to say something real about the things that really matter, poverty or whatever, but at the moment, it's not the right time or place to say it.

"For one thing, we're not influential enough. It would only damage ourselves to do it and it wouldn't have much effect on people, and possibly we're not even mature enough to know how to say it yet.

"I hope, we say something on those lines after we've done something on purely musical lines and entertainment lines, which is what we're trying to do now.

"What John Lennon was trying to do after he left the Beatles was amazing. He was just being himself. Some of his statements might have been naive, especially in retrospect, but what a brave, honest way to do it. I've got unreachable heights of admiration for him."

Back to the stage act, and Queen involving their audience.

"What we want to do as soon as we start our set is to create an immediate atmosphere, if possible, of excitement, expectation and, ultimately, enjoyment. It's involvement and lifting them out of going home and listening to The Archers or watching So It Goes.

"That's what makes the live work as good as the recorded work. The rewards of working live are so much more immediate, because of the feedback.

"We really enjoy touring when we get into it, but we sell so many more records than we play to people that it's a much more far-reaching thing.

"Why the hell go on stage with backing tapes behind you and pretend you can do it like the record? I mean, you can give them something else. You can give them a visual spectacle, your live presence thing, and an excitement and an involvement that you don't get by listening to the record. I think we get pretty near on a lot of things.

"But the live show really is all about atmosphere. That's what rock and roll is all about, even though it's a show."

The flashness of Queen's live show is a mere extension of the individual personalities of the band. John Deacon, who always manages to dress in a comparatively sober fashion, Mercury and Taylor, in particular, and May on stage don distinctive uniforms.

Taylor "The stage show has always been a show, and always will be a little different. The emphasis is on 'the show.' People are paying money to come and see you, so we want to give them something that's pretty entertaining.

"You can do it with just music, but doing the visual and audio thing is much better. The Rolling Stones have always done that.

"All we ever did was reflect our personalities, and that's all we're doing now. It's just that we can afford to do it in a more sort of lavish way now, but hopefully without becoming too showbusiness, which is always a danger.

"I wouldn't like it to become showbusiness because, quite simply, it's still rock and roll. I think we could very easily go over the top now if we're not careful.

"People seem to think we don't try enough on stage, but when we come off we are totally wiped out, exhausted. A lot of them seem to resent the fact that it's entertaining.

"They say that we've got no sense of humour, which is ridiculous. How could we have no sense of humour with the things that Freddie is wearing these days? Nobody could wear those without having a sense of humour.

"People say that we've kept above our audience but I don't really think that's true. It is these days a bit, but only through necessity, because the organisation is so big. But I can remember the first two or three tours we did: we always used to try and let anybody who wanted to come into the dressing-room. But we can't do that now, obviously.

"We don't think we're above anybody. We might think we're a better band than most, but we don't consider ourselves to be above our audience."

In the past year, Queen have entered a class of their own. This rise coincided with the arrival of a new manager, John Reid, who'd already made his name by handling Elton John.

When he plotted the course for his first year with Queen, Reid decided that they should spend a substantial period cracking America wide open. The result was that the band are now one of the biggest rock acts in the States and, nine months after its release, A Night At The Opera is still in the charts there.

The feedback from the American success has opened many English eyes, and has given both Queen and Reid the confidence to stage the free show in Hyde Park.

May: "I'm staggered by the past year. I'm amazed. I suppose now we're conscious of having to live up to something, whereas before we weren't, so that's an additional strain. I will be happy as long as I feel that we do live up to people's opinion of us. If I think we justify it, then I'm happy. I'm always striving to see that we do.

"We're certainly not resting on our laurels in any way. We're always pushing on to new things. In a way, it would change us less than most people, because we've always had those attitudes really.

"We ALWAYS went for perfection in the face of financial disaster."

Retrieved from rocksbackpages.com

#article #interview #brian may #roger taylor #1976 #melody maker #queen band #bri #rog

22 notes · View notes

prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

Text

Amazing Together

Pairing: Bang Yongguk x female reader

Genre: fluff / enemies to lovers

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol

Prompt: “I’ve always loved you.” - #16 of Idea Starters

Word count: 1429

“I’ve always loved you,” you murmured into his skin, delighted when a husky chuckle responded. Peering up at the handsome man, you smirked. “So maybe it wasn’t love at first sight.”

“I think contempt would be a better fitting word, don’t you?”

“I didn’t exactly hate you either.”

“It was close,” he answered, and you shrugged playfully. Toying with your bare skin, he smiled. “But now, we’re close in another way.”

“Intimacy suits us,” you agreed, and he chuckled again.

“I don’t want you in any other way.”

If someone had told you eighteen months ago that you would end up laying in Bang Yongguk’s arms whispering nothings at one another, you’d laughed hysterically. You would have been convinced something like this would only happen with you held at your own will or under the influence of something strong. Because when you first met the man, you had no time for him.

The feeling was mutual.

“Do we really need to hang out with him?” you implored Youngjae, who checked his watch before shooting you a look. You sighed heavily. “You know, I don’t get how someone like you is friends with someone like him.”

“Watch it. Someone like me is also friends with you. Some might say that’s unfathomable too,” he retorted, grinning when you reached out to swat him. Dodging your swing, Youngjae shrugged. “Yongguk and I go way back. And he’s new to this area. It’d be unsavoury of me to leave a friend in the lurch.”

Grumbling, you looked around the bar, hoping something came up to prevent Yongguk from joining your group of friends tonight.

You had enough of him last Friday night to wish for this one to be peaceful. However, five minutes later, your luck was up, the tall man walking over to your booth and smiling genuinely at his friends.

Your friends.

You knew it was petty. After all, Youngjae had known Yongguk a whole lot longer than you had known him. But as his current closest friend, you felt as if the connection he had with you was just as valid. If not stronger than the one he had with some guy returning from overseas.

At first, you were intrigued by his dark eyes and wavy hair. What was his story? What made Yongguk tick? That curiosity had been burned by his curt responses, barely answering you before talking in-depth with Jongup and Youngjae about their youth. You were bitter, feeling more and more like the outcast around your friends than you ought to.

Yongguk made no attempts to get to know you, half the time you believed he didn’t even acknowledge your presence. A sour taste formed in your mouth and was difficult to swallow down with the beer you consumed.

Daehyun chuckled at your side. “Y/N, slow down on that. Someone might take advantage of you if you’re not in your right mind.”

You heard a snort then, your eyes glancing across the table to where Yongguk sat, his lips curled up in the faintest smile.

It was then when you decided you would only ever despise him.

“Y/N! Come on!”

“No way am I working with him!” you answered, shaking your head vigorously in the process. “Nope! Nothing you say or do could make me take Yongguk on as a client.”

“Nothing? You were pretty desperate for these the other day,” Youngjae countered, and you wished you hadn’t looked up, your barriers crumbling in the face of temptation.

Snatching the concert tickets to your favourite band out of your friend’s hand, you gasped. “How did you get these?! It was sold out within five minutes!”

“I know a friend who knows some pretty important people.”

“Who?” you murmured, checking the tickets over for their validity.

“Your new client.”

Snapping your focus up, you blinked slowly. “How would Yongguk be able to get tickets like this?”

“Spend some time with the guy. There’s a whole lot to him that you know nothing about.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d like to keep it that way. Mysteries have never enticed anything further than a burn from the flame for me.”

“You’re so poetic,” Youngjae mused, clasping his hands together. “Perhaps you could illustrate something equally as grand to Yongguk’s work.”

“I’m not interested,” you announced, holding onto the tickets Youngjae went to pluck out of your grip a little too much still. Arching an eyebrow at you, Youngjae removed them from your reluctant hands.

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to ask Junhong if he’ll want to come see-”

“Junhong won’t appreciate them like I do!”

Youngjae’s eyebrow shifted up again. “Just admit it, already.”

“Fine. I’ll take him on as a client. But only because you bribed me in the most painful way. I’ll remember this.”

“Oh, completely. What’s a best friend worth if they don’t use your weaknesses against you?” Youngjae commented with a laugh, your scowl not deterring him. “I think this will be a wonderful opportunity for you both.”

“Hardly. He’s intolerable at best.”

“So are you.”

“Hey!”

Youngjae’s smile softened. “I honestly believe you could be amazing together if you stopped hating on one another.”

“You live in fairy tales, Youngjae. In the real world, Yongguk and I will be nothing.”

“So, is this not the real world, then?” Yongguk breathed into your ear, trailing his lips along the side of your neck.

“It sure feels like a dream to me,” you told him giddily, nuzzling into his touch.

For some time, it had felt that way too.

The project you worked on together had been a surprisingly great success. And in the process of collaborating, you opened up with him, Yongguk’s broody and aloof nature finally seen as shy and cautious instead.

“You don’t hate me?” you asked when the project was done and dusted, catching Yongguk by surprise.

After blinking, he composed himself and shook his head. “Why work with someone you dislike?”

“Well, sometimes talent is worth attempting to make an arrangement with.”

Yongguk cocked his head to the side. “Was it that bad for you in the beginning?”

“Considering you barely acknowledged my existence in our group of friends, yeah.”

“Ah,” he simply said, nodding softly. “I’m sorry if you thought that.”

“What else was I meant to think? You hardly answered me.”

“I was often flustered by you.”

“By simple questions?” you wondered, and Yongguk’s gaze diverted to the wall. “Why be flustered by me?”

“Perhaps you don’t own a mirror.”

Frowning at his statement, you moved closer, acutely aware of how this made him uncomfortable. Yongguk didn’t quite meet your gaze, and you slowly smiled. “No way.”

“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Y/N.”

“We’re talking about other things than work now, Yongguk.”

“I was attracted, yes,” he admitted painfully, gathering his things up from the large table you had sat at all afternoon finalising your project.

You jumped in front of him. “Was?”

“Hm?”

“Are you no longer attracted?”

“I see you’re having fun at my expense. Might I remind you that it was you who declared me the enemy.”

“You left me no choice with how little you offered!”

“How much should I offer you now?” he asked, his hesitancy evaporating. The way Yongguk stared at you now, completely unbridled, took your breath away.

It wasn’t like you to be at a loss for words, but your answer failed to arrive in a timely fashion.

You were certain the look within his dark eyes now seemed a little too satisfied.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Should we have dinner together?”

“Why?” you breathed, and Yongguk’s expression faltered. You blinked away from his stronghold, realising the rejection you were inadvertently sending as a message. You shook and then nodded your head. “Yes! Let’s do dinner.”

“You can ask me all the questions you want to.”

“Are you trying to cause me heart failure?”

He smirked. “I know you like to talk a whole lot more than I do.”

“I’m not sure how well I’ll talk tonight.”

“Have I thrown you off?” he wondered, and you groaned loudly.

“Why do I feel like I’m going to have to deal with an incredibly smug Youngjae soon?”

“What’s Youngjae got to do with anything?” Yongguk asked, and you dismissed the question before linking your arm through his as you both headed for the exit of your studio.

Maybe Youngjae was right, you thought as you glanced up hopefully at Yongguk leading you towards his car. And as he opened the passenger door for you, you smiled.

We might just be amazing together.

_________________

[B.A.P Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #yongguk fiction #yongguk fanfic #yongguk scenarios #yongguk fluff #bang yongguk #b.a.p #b.a.p fanfic #b.a.p fiction #b.a.p fluff #b.a.p scenarios #yongguk au #b.a.p au #pwyl; idea starters #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

89 notes · View notes

starcrossedkaiju · 3 years

Text

Kingslayer AU: Chapter Five

If you remember that post I made about the Red Resistance you’re a real one.

Notes: this one is very short. It’s just to move the plot along and blah blah blah. Next chapter is a good one I think.

The next time Scott showed up to the Red Desert it was for a petty fight that Scar had instigated by trying to steal directly from the Renchanting base. The situation made Scott face palm, and he contemplated not even showing up. However, when Jimmy offered to go in place of him, he told him not to bother. That he would be back in less than a day and night cycle.

Scott walked into the meeting just as the Red Army crested a hill. Which they stayed on. Scar yawned exaggeratedly and trekked up to his opponent, who was wearing a bandage on his left arm.

Cleo was also there. She seemed to be focused on drawing shapes in the cracked sand with the tip of her sword. Most likely feeling bitter about her former ally, Tango, joining Dogwarts. Everyone was paying as little attention as possible while Scar fired off false promises and white lies. Grian busied himself with apologizing to the nearest members of the Red Army for Scar’s embarrassment.

Scott was nearly falling asleep on his feet when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Tango.

“Hey Major, you got a minute?” he whispered.

“So many,” Scott responded, gesturing to the desolate state of their meeting.

The two of them quietly excused themselves from the group to speak in private. Scott didn’t know why he didn’t tell Tango to just leave him alone. Maybe it was because Tango had a certain air of reluctance about him, Scott was certain he pulled his punches. Maybe it was shear boredom.

“So, nice weather,” Tango observed the arid desert sky.

“Uh huh..” Scott provided, unimpressed.

Tango stared at him blankly. Awkwardly.

He cleared his throat, “so I heard about your battle with Skiz and Ren. Impressive,” Tango said.

“What is with you people and beating around the bush? We’re not friends,” Scott pushed Tango away by the middle of his chest, “Tango,” he reminded.

Tango looked hurt for a second, “ouch Major. Fine, I wanted to ask you to join me,” he said.

Scott burst out laughing, to which Tango scolded him and shook him by the shoulders. That shut him up, it also earned Tango a slap.

“Don’t touch me,” Scott ordered.

Tango put his hands up, “no touching here! But be quiet. I brought you over here alone for a reason,” he pointed out.

Scott glanced at his allies. Blissfully unaware of the possible treason he may have been about to commit.

“Nobody knows this yet,” Tango whispered, “but I’m spying on the Red Army,” he said.

“What?” Scott asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I have a plan. It involves you,” Tango responded.

Scott paused to consider if he was really about to entertain whatever was about to come out of Tango’s mouth.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to get close to me and then kill me on behalf of him,” Scott pointed at Ren, who was rolling his eyes at Scar and animatedly conversing with him about something Scott forgot about a long time ago.

“You remember the cow farm right?” he said.

“Yes,” Scott nodded suspiciously.

“I let you take my cow, on the promise that you and Jimmy wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tango recited.

“And we didn’t,” Scott said.

“Exactly. I know I can trust you, and I can’t trust them, Etho tried to kill me remember?” Tango pointed at Etho and Ren.

“So I want you to join me. Not the Red Army, me. Impulse is doing the same thing,” he concluded.

“Didn’t Impulse actually kill you?” Scott pointed out.

Tango waved his hand, water under the bridge.

Scott drifted off into contemplation. Everything about joining a coup against the Red Army screamed danger. More than usual. Dogwarts was a force to be reckoned with. They had superior gear, defenses, players, and alliances. Maybe Scott could cheap shot Martyn and Skizzle, but he could not promise that same luck against Etho or anyone else for that matter. The thought of even trying made his stomach turn.

And then there was Jimmy. If their plan didn’t work, what would happen to Jimmy? The Crastle? Or the Red Desert for that matter? The target on their backs was large enough. Scott had to take a step back. Since when did he get himself involved in a war?

Since he started defending himself, his mind provided.

Since he started standing up for his own freedom. For their freedom.

“Okay,” Scott said.

“Really? You’re in?” Tango’s eyes lit up, his joy was a bit loud for Scott’s new predilection for secrecy.

“Shh!” Scott put a finger in front of his face, “that’s not what I said…” he averted his eyes.

“I want to, believe me, I do,” he said, “but I can’t.”

Tango’s smile faded instantly, his red eyes grew disappointed, “Why not?” he seemed hurt.

“I have too much to lose. I can’t risk this,” Scott held the charm of his necklace up, it’s gemstone still shimmered bright green.

“Scott, I admire your devotion, I really do; but this is a bit bigger than that,” Tango said.

Scott’s expression fell into shock and reproach.

That seemed like enough of an answer for Tango, who backtracked as he realized he’d struck a nerve.

“I mean!” he corrected, “I mean nothing will happen to Jimmy. Cross my heart, he will be under the Red Resistance’s finest protection,” Tango stood up straight and crossed his heart.

Scott decided that was satisfactory. He made a face that said the opposite though, just to make sure Tango’s pride wasn’t too uplifted.

“Fine. I’ll join you Tango, but if I get even the slightest inclination of funny business, I’m out,” Scott cautioned, but he agreed.

“Terms and Conditions, I get it. The Red Resistance will not indenture any of its members,” Tango responded with a gleeful grin.

“You guys and your red themed names,” Scott teased, but held his hand out. They ought to make it official before everyone stopped snoring.

Tango shook it enthusiastically. The two called it done and Scott returned to his side, and Tango returned to the Red Army.

*****

Scott traveled back home that day. No fighting had taken place, although Scar had decidedly talked himself into a hole and ended up giving Ren access to any sand Dogwarts and their affiliates needed for the next week. It was no skin off Scott’s back, he didn’t care. Not his sand.

Wearing so much armor and standing in place for two hours gets on ones nerves. Taking off his heavy diamond chestplate felt like enough liberation for the day. He expected to hear from Tango or Impulse at some point, preferably soon.

Jimmy asked him how the meeting went when he returned, holding out a cup of coffee.

Unsure of whether or not to tell the truth, Scott lied, he said nothing happened and made fun of Scar for running his mouth so much. He said he was tired.

*****

“Scott? That you?” Tango’s voice came through a small door in his abandoned cow farm. It wasn’t needed anymore.

Scott pointed his torch towards the voice, illuminating a door, which Tango had crafted into the side of the underground farm.

“Yes it’s me. Why’s it so dark in here?” he asked.

“I don’t want people to know I’m still using this place, that’s why,” Tango motioned for Scott to come to him.

Tango silently listened for any sign that Scott had been followed, then pushed a stone slab in front of the hidden door with a silent thud.

On the other side of the door was a short hallway, then a very small room with some pillows on the floor and a table. A map of the server that included all the structures and members was pinned up on the wall. There was also a well loved notebook on the table.

“Where’s Impulse?” Scott asked, sitting down on one of the pillows.

“Ren needed him for something, he’ll probably be here next time,” Tango explained. He sat down and lit a candle to make more light.

“I thought we would start by going over the basics today,” Tango picked up the notebook and flipped through some of the pages absently.

Scott looked away and then back, “okay, shoot,” he said.

The “plan” centered around infiltrating the Red Army, convincing them (mainly Ren) that Scott had decided to switch sides. Then, him, Tango, and Impulse would eventually build their trust. Somewhere in there they would convince the Red Army to stop messing with people and come to an agreement with the rest of the server. Something about working together instead of against each other.

“We still have to work some stuff out,” Tango concluded with confidence.

“That’s the plan? You really think this’ll work?” Scott crossed his arms.

“If you can insult Scar convincingly enough, yes,” Tango said.

“Oh this’ll be easy!” Scott laughed, mostly to cover up his nerves.

Tango chuckled with him, then became serious once more, “I’m glad you have a sense of humor going into this. Even after what they did to you,” Tango said.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way,” he apologized.

Scott’s hands stung a bit in response, but he nodded a silent “thanks”.

They were quiet. Scott nervously fiddled with the hem of his coat, lost in thought, mostly regret.

Impulse did show up the next time. He arrived just after Scott did. Everyone sat awkwardly in the little room for a while and Scott was wrapped in nostalgia for a similar time. A time where the only threat was an obscene number of phantoms.

Over the course of their meetings, Scott observed his teammates and their actions. A far cry from who they used to be, including him. Scott’s hair had grown past his ears and turned purple at the tips, and he’d become rather paranoid about always wearing armor.

Tango spent much of their interactions lost in thought. The ghost of whatever was eating at him weighed visibly on his shoulders in the way his head was always bowed in a perpetual staring contest with the ground. He was irritable.

Impulse was a wild card to Scott, they’d never really met before; but it was clear he’d been changed as well. Illustrated by his long “mining” trips, which he only returned from to attend their weekly meetups with no resources to show for it, and a general aura of depression.

His mind was drawn back to the picture Cleo had taken of almost all his server-mates, together in front of the Vibe Machine. He’d studied everyone’s faces countless times. Mostly wondering where everything had gone wrong.

Had they ever truly been friends in the first place? Or was camaraderie a comfort when everyone else was just as weak as one another.

#finally. the end of act one.#also the end of me having to select from my notes app because #up until now I wrote EVERYTHING in the same document #never. ever do that.#kingslayer au #scott smajor #tangotek #impulsesv #3rdlife #3rd life smp #cas types #mcyt

37 notes · View notes

shinesurge · 3 years

Text

I’ve been holding off on making this post because I wanted to try it out myself and get settled in and make sure everything went okay, but seeing as I’ve gone ahead and updated my site and everything I thought now might be a good time to start talking about this publicly!

If you’ve known me for more than five minutes you know I fucking hate Webtoon, like, a lot. Every aspect of it disgusts me to the core of my being, and while Webtoon is the ugliest version of them the aspects that I hate also extend to basically any comic aggregate site. I hate that they treat artists like content robots, I hate that they treat comic readers like morons who aren’t capable of engaging with complex stories, I hate that they actively try to strip away all the cool parts of indie comics by cultivating sterile and impersonal environments that discourage artistic experimentation and unique expression.

So! I hope you’ll be interested in what I have to say about this new platform that’s (hopefully) going to be out of alpha this summer. If you think you like reading comics on Webtoon, I really encourage you to check out Dillyhub once it launches. That’s the short version, but I have a LOT to say about this! So I’m putting the rest of this under a cut.

Full disclosure, I’m not getting paid or anything for this. The creative outreach at Dillyhub contacted me a few weeks ago asking if I’d be interested in having Kidd Commander be one of their launch titles when they go live this summer. I was hesitant at first, since I actively distrust anything claiming to be For Creators at this point, but they answered my pushy questions patiently and everything seemed on the up and up so I gave it a shot; I’ve been needing a mobile mirror for KC anyway. Eventually they invited me to the alpha creator discord, where they’ve been working directly with all of us artists to improve the platform, and now to be honest I’m REALLY excited for this thing to get off the ground. Nobody asked me to make this post, but since I’ve spent years whining and bitching about how other services do wrong by their creators, I thought I’d talk about this one that’s doing things right.

So, the biggest advantage this site has for creators over others in my opinion is that it. Treats us like individuals, regardless of follower count lmfao. If you’re a new person just starting out with your new webcomic, here’s what webtoon does for you:

Note: you don’t get a custom banner, you don’t even get to choose the solid color it is. That big circle icon is ALSO the image that shows up in searches, but everywhere else on the site it’s a 100x100px square, so you have to choose whether you want it to look good as a giant circle at the top of your comic’s page OR whether you want to look good in search results. Which, by the way, is the ONLY way for people to find you if you’re not partnered. And that’s it! You have no monetization options, you won’t show up on the genre pages, and when someone DOES stumble across your page it looks super unprofessional. Good Luck!

Now here’s my Dillyhub page(s):

You don’t get a static banner and one icon, you get a whole carousel banner with as many images as you want front and center as soon as you get to the project page. You get seven (custom!) genre tags, as opposed to Webtoon’s single tag you have to pick from their list, and plenty of room to talk about your work. The episodes are even laid out better, you get a MUCH bigger preview space to work with and they’re nice and big on the bottom half of the page:

you know, like they’re actually presenting ART lmfao.

That’s already an ENORMOUS improvement, but here’s my favorite thing.

o hm that’s a lot of super cushy settings I have for every individual episode, but what’s that, Episode Type?

LIKE.

listen, i know this is probably a bit specialized if you’re not a comic maker yourself, but this is a HUGE DEAL. You can post vertically OR page by page! You can even post pages two at a time for double page spreads, or so they read like a physical comic book! AND their specs are really open, as long as the file meets the size requirement you can make it whatever shape you want. You don’t have to reformat all your shit to post here!! I posted the entire first volume of KC STRAIGHT FROM THE PRINT FILES in like half an hour!!! The episodes can also be any amount of pages, you can post a single page or an entire chapter all in one go!

So that’s just the project page for the comic, let’s see what happens when I click on my username there.

Each author gets their own unique page (which you can tack a vanity url to!) to present themselves however they want! You always have the banner at the top, but beyond that you have a ton of options. Among other incredibly useful tools that really should just be bare fucking minimum at this point, like the ability to preview your page on different devices, you start customizing your blank page with this set of widgets,

and from THERE you can customize them MORE, you can promote your patreon or your kickstarter or whatever! Having this creator space ALSO means that if you run several comics, or if you want to promote your comic AND your illustrations, you can just separate them into individual projects! Each with their own page! This is also really nice as a reader because you can subscribe to a creator but you can also just subscribe to specific projects, if you don’t want to get ALL of their stuff in your inbox. It’s so good y’all hh.

Once again, all of this functionality is just THERE as soon as you make your account. You don’t need to be “partnered” or whatever the fuck, you don’t need to meet a certain follower threshold to unlock the ability to operate normally. You get your own creator space to present yourself how you prefer, you get pages for all your projects, you can even set up monetization options (and change them for individual pages IN a project) right from the start.

ok ok let’s compare this to my webtoon page

oh that’s right webtoon just puts your greyed out name at the bottom of each comic and that’s it because human beings don’t make this stuff, my bad lol anyway

Other fun shit that Dillyhub does that makes me feel like they’re people who have actually consumed or made comics on the internet at some point in their lives:

-When you log into the “studio” space, you’re in your creator account. When you log OUT of the studio space, it’s like you swap to a “reader” account, where you can access your pull list and comment on things with a different name and profile icon. Again, maybe only cool if you’re a creator, but if you ARE then you know exactly why this is incredibly useful lmao

-You can set up “hidden” projects, so if you only want certain things to be accessible by certain people or to not show up in searches that’s an option! You have SO much control here it’s great.

-The comment section has moderation options GODDD. You also have a real comment space, you know, so it actually encourages building a community (and a rapport with your community, if you like), and you also can just turn comments off entirely if you want! I haven’t used it much yet, obviously, but it’s been made very clear in the discord that artists want better control over their comment sections and the devs have it on their priority list.

-Absolutely every step of customization gives you a preview before it’s live, so you can easily see what these images you’re posting in different places are going to look like before you beam them to your followers’ inboxes. This includes individual episodes!

-This was sort of in one of the screenshots but it’s important so I’m saying it here too: the option to mark individual episodes as mature or with content warnings, rather than having to mark an entire comic as Mature Spooky Scary Content because of one or two pages getting a bit hairy.

This site is only in alpha right now, and it’s invite-only until they get to beta (for creators; anyone can make a reader account! but they haven’t set up a way to browse comics without direct links yet so) but honest to god it’s already blowing every other site I’ve used clean out of the water. And the staff has been really kind and responsive to us proposing fixes or changes! I will always defend individual websites as being the best option for an indie comic, but everybody’s gotta start somewhere and we NEED something that isn’t Tumblr or Webtoon to fill this role; this site feels a lot more like a symbiotic relationship than any of the other staples available for new creators right now. If you’re a comic reader and you want to see your favorite comics on Dillyhub I’d suggest keeping an eye on this site and once it’s live start poking them to look into it, and if you’re a creator follow their social media and hop in when they open up for anybody to join. I would LOVE to see this site take off as a viable option for hosting and reading comics.

Thanks for reading all this! I haven’t quite finished setting up yet, but if you want to poke around a project/creator page for yourself mine is here have at it. As things progress I’m sure I’ll have more to say, but since I’m usually so aggressively negative about places like this I just wanted to give some credit where it was due. fucking finally.

#long post #i want this site to obliterate webtoon so fucking bad lmfao

37 notes · View notes

wickedgamesoyaoya · 4 years

Text

Hundreds of academic studies have been dedicated to observing those who are cursed with a toxic reliance on alcohol or illegal substances. Yet, not many have considered to conflate infatuation with addiction, and so the question that remains is… can one become addicted to a person? To their smile? To their laugh…? Further, it is not uncommon for addicts to substitute one addiction with another to relieve anxiety or stress. Perhaps that was why had become obsessed with distractions. The form of the distraction held little significance to you. Whether it was spending ever spare second outside of the emptiness of your apartment or burning your emotions with the poison of the night.

Your craving to escape reality can easily be traced back to three months ago when your primary addiction was no longer within reach.

Since the beginning of your relationship it was no secret that you were infatuated with the younger twin and his affections. Hanamaki once humourlessly commented that you were oddly obsessed with him, but it was just love. Pure, unconditional love.

And when you were no longer able to drown in him – in the love he offered in return, it was only natural that you sought to fill the emptiness with something else, despite the cost.

Now, when Bokuto originally instructed you to wait at the café for him, you intended on abiding without complaint. Except with the buzz of the champagne slowly fading, you were compelled to sustain the haze enveloping your thoughts. Caffeine would not provide you the fix you required, nor would the bottle of water, clutched in your right hand.

With a palm resting against your cheek, you shifted your gaze to the window, seeking the remedy to the hollowness returning to you.

“Oh. I forgot about that.” The comment mumbled under your breath was referring to the establishment located in the building directly beside yours. It was a small pub that you had passed by on countless nights. Glimmering illuminations framed the storefront, naturally drawing your attention to it; and the neon sign plastered against the window could not have been any more inviting. Each second that passed increased your desire to leave the café, as the dazzling colours sung out to you, summoning you to them.

It was not that you desired to disobey your friend’s instructions – it was simply that you yearned to join the lights, as they were offering you something you could not refuse. Bokuto would message you once he left the apartment, anyway. The few minutes it would take for him to return to the ground level would provide you enough time to return to the café. It was a concrete plan, at least that was the lie you comforted yourself with.

As you entered the establishment, the illumination drawing you there had become quite blinding. To battle the sudden strain on your eyes, you squinted, scrunching up your features in the process. The overload of your senses only continued as the speaker located to your right, blasted an unfamiliar melody, welcoming you to a party you were not meant to attend. You considered retreating the few steps advanced into the pub, but then you caught a whiff of an unknown liquor and it persuaded you to stay.

Silently, you proceeded towards the bar, ignoring the quizzical expressions tossed in your direction. The designer clothes gifted to you from your employer did not suit the ambiance of the pub, and it did not help that you were blinking excessively. Your struggle to adjust to the light could have easily been misinterpreted as the side effects of consuming an illegal substance. But you could care less what some random individuals thought about you.

The bartender flashed you a hospitable smile once you took a seat on the barstool, she did not seem to harbour any incorrect assumptions. Instead, she seemed to catch onto the strain over your mascara coated eyelids, something you realized when she issued an apology.

“It’s really bright, I know. It’s like the freakin’ sun, am I right?” The apologetic laughter exhaled by the mixologist radiated an energy that reminded you of someone… Though you could not pinpoint who. “Anyway, honey. What can I get ya?” After placing a napkin in front of you, she removed a glass from the pyramid behind her. The way she curved her eyebrow communicated that she was expecting an interesting order, most likely because of your attire.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having.” Crossing your arms over the wooden counter, you leaned forward with a toothy grin prior to motioning towards the girl seated beside you. “Because it looks like it’ll kill me and I am here for it.” Accompanying your words was a little wink, one that brought the older woman to laugh once more.

“Oh, that’s funny. Because that drink is called poisoned by love. It’s our newest addition.” Your answer satisfied her and communicated volumes about your reason for visiting. She made a mental note to observe you closely for the night, vulnerability and alcohol were a deadly mix, after-all.

“Poisoned by love… Cute. I’ll have two.” The number was illustrated by a peace sign, one that landed upon your cheek with accidental force. Yet you played it off, forcing the smile to remain attached to your mouth.

The sloppiness of the action engaged the bartender’s internal alarms. There was no way in hell she would be serving you anything beyond the drink she was in the process of concocting.

“Let’s start with one honey. Whatever kick you’re losing; I assure you that one of these babies will bring it back.” A nod of affirmation was applied to her head as she presented the final product to you, before settling it onto the napkin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you’re doing.”

The impact of the mixture did not require five minutes to activate. Two minutes into consuming the drink, one of the patrons beside you informed you that it was not meant to be downed in one motion. That would have been useful advice if it were provided before you chugged the liquid, unaware of the consequences that would follow.

At three minutes you understood the warnings issued by the barkeep, as you were stripped of any grip on reality. Glancing down at your hands, you tilted your head curiously at the injured one, trying to remember how it occurred. When the bartender returned to check up on you, upon seeing your brows knitted in confusion, she recommended you close your eyes for the remaining two minutes. Poisoned by love was particularly potent for the first five minutes if consumed in one go.

The initial high of the alcohol dimmed substantially after the five-minute mark, and soon your memories were returned to you. Brushing your fingers against your forehead, a growl was caught in your throat.

“I can see you’re feeling better.” She quickly removed the empty glass from ahead of you, making no suggestion that she would replace it with a second one. “I think this is also when I tell you that we have a rule against drinkin’ and textin’.” Too preoccupied by the phone within your grasp, you paid little attention to her remarks. It was quite obvious that you were plotting something with your newfound courage.

“You don’t.” Your attention was torn away from the bright screen for only a second, to squint at the woman in disbelief.

“Maybe not… but it’s not a good idea.” Caught in a lie, she raised her hands then blew out a sigh. But you did not acknowledge the gesture, with your gaze returning to the device instantly.

“On the contrary, I think it’s a phenomenal idea…”

Let’s do it again, shall we - poisoned by love

Masterlist - Previous - Next

A/N: I am upset rn, NO ONE LOOK AT ME. the fact my finger slipped and I posted half of this earlier - UGH. bad fucking luck. ANYWAY. >:( If there are mistakes in this, it is because I can’t concentrate enough to edit them. >:(

taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiast @vicassa @iloveanime691 @bringmelily @newfriendjen @hikarichannn @anime-simp @tsukkismamagucci @laughingismorefun @astronomyturtle @shegrewupwithoutafather @hyskoa1998 @deephumandragonperson @pretty-setter-bois @raenebalgaire @sugawarabby @justanotherfangirl2 @keijisworld @90s-belladonna@momoinot @sempiternal-amour @cherryblosom111 @yqshirov @haikyuufairy @volleybloop @bloody-bella @sadkaashistan @seikamuzu @namyari @toaster-stick @coconut-dreamz @roseestuosity @prcttylittlcthing @uzumakioden @nerdynstoned @kenmasgameboy @unstableye @ouijaeater15 @aquariarose @fandomtrashpandasposts @helloalex80 @stfucanunot @envyusshades @cuddlesslut @seijohiseliterambles @chaichai-the-weeb @meiikuki @theowl104 @cuddlejeongin @tchalameme @ditu-m9

#osamu x you #osamu scenario #osamu smau #hq osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya #miya osamu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu smau #haikyuu #osamu x y/n

287 notes · View notes

rushingheadlong · 3 years

Photo

POP IN THE SUPERMARKET

Conveyer rock - is it all a hype? Colin Irwin looks at pre-packed pop and talks to the men behind new bands Queen (left) and Merlin

Hype. An ugly, unpleasant word frequently recurring in rock circles.

Up in the boardroom of a vast record company the fat cigar brigade are scratching heads. Binn and Batman have come up with another surefire hit and they want somebody fresh to market it. They ponder a few names and finally decide on one with slight but clear sexual connotations - suggestively camp.

Name settled, they work on the people who will be in this new band. They might be able to find a ready-made group to fit the bill but better to mould their own. There's a singer who has been around for a few years.

He's not great but he knows how to throw himself around a stage, has a hairy chest and can hit the high notes. Give him a new name and he'll do. Somebody knows a lead guitarist who can play a bit and looks good. They can advertise for the others.

They'll work out a sensational stage act, rig them up in some flash gear, buy them the best equipment and arrange a string of appearances in some influential venues. Plunge a few thousand quid in launching them with advertising and posters and "They'll be the biggest thing since sliced bread," chief fat cigar tells his underlings.

Session musicians are employed to record the single and being a Binn and Batman special the radio stations label it "chart bound" and play it twenty five times a day. Seeing the glossy photos in the bop mags the kids gather up their pennies and buy it.

VOILA, stars are born - or manufactured. An extreme form of hype.

There's also a cliché commonly used in the business about people who have been around for many years and finally make it. It's called talent-will-out. An idealist phrase but there is still a popular belief that if a band is truly talented enough it will win through in the end.

Yet even the greatest band in the world need a bit of pushing in the first place. When a record becomes a hit it's not always that easy to distinguish between hype and talent-will-out.

If a record company spends astronomical sums of money promoting a band, is it hype? Or is it a legitimate and necessary weapon in the music business? The argument is that the BBC's ever-tightening playlist and the effects on the industry of the three-day week have made it harder than ever for a new group to make it - talent or no. Without a big money machine behind it there isn't a hope.

The situation is illustrated by two energetic new bands, who both look like breaking.

Big money has been spent on Queen and Merlin, who have had new singles released during the last month.

Queen's record, "Seven Seas Of Rhye," is already moving swiftly up the chart, while Merlin's "Let Me Put My Spell On You," is doing well enough to suggest it might follow suit.

There is no suggestion that either band is a manufactured or manipulated product in the sense of the Monkees. They play the music on their own records entirely themselves and they are both hard at work on the road.

Yet the question arises as to whether they would be doing quite so well without the resources of big companies behind them.

In the case of Queen it's Trident Audio Productions and EMI and for Merlin it's Cookaway Productions and CBS.

The one common factor is that money and backing has been provided because the companies have a solid, unshakeable belief in the artists they are promoting. They are indignant about any suggestion of a put-on or that there has been any attempt to con the public.

Listen to Merlin's producer Roger Greenaway for half-an-hour and there is no doubting his faith in their ability. "They are going to break, I know they are. I'm convinced the record will be a hit."

Nobody's saying exactly how much it has cost to launch either band. "Over a period of months between £5,000 and £10,000" has been spent on marketing Queen by EMI while the figure for Merlin is even vaguer. "A bit, but not a vast amount. Not a fortune by any means."

"Seven Seas Of Rhye" is Queen's second single and was recorded as part of the album "Queen 2" which has just been released. Things started to move for them about a year ago when they recorded their first album for Trident, who have a distribution contract with EMI.

An advance was paid to them to help with the immediate costs of putting them on the road.

Review copies of the album - about 400 of them - were sent out to everyone who might conceivably have any influence on the record buying public, from discos to the national press. Copies were personally distributed to radio and TV producers and extensive advertising space was bought in the trade papers.

The launch for Queen was more concentrated than most artist are entitled to expect.

Trident were completely behind them from the start and found them their American producer Jack Nelson. EMI promotions men Ronnie Fowler and John Bagnall decided they had a product with an exceptional chance of success and they went all out to exploit it to the full.

Says Fowler: "Every record we release we work to a pattern of promotion. When I went round with the album it was normal procedure. It becomes un-normal when people start phoning you - that's when you put more effort into it."

Bagnall adds: "It became obvious after a week or so that it wasn't standard promotion that was necessary. We did a more complete promotion job than usual on Queen because we thought they were going to make it.

"They're all good-looking guys and I did a round of teeny papers and all the girls in the office swooned over them. Brian, the lead guitarist, had made his own guitar and a couple of the nationals picked up on that. It was good, gossipy stuff."

Queen's publicity machine was working from all angles because they were also getting external promotion from Tony Brainsby's promotion office.

He had been involved with them from the time they had been trying to get record producers interested. The intensity of it all paid off when they were invited to do a spot on the Old Grey Whistle Test. Radio Luxembourg latched upon the single "Keep Yourself Alive" and played it regularly.

Their first tour, supporting Mott the Hoople, got the full works. Local press was saturated with releases about this new band which was shortly coming to their town, elaborate displays were arranged at the front of the house on the night of the concert, local disc-jockeys were informed, and window displays were made in about 200 local record shops.

"Trident and EMI committed themselves right from the start to this band, to make sure they had a PA which was better than other bands had and to make sure they had the right clothes. Some of their outfits cost £150 each," said Bagnall. "Spending money on a band isn't hype. It wasn't being flash or extravagant for the sake of building an image. It was making sure that everything else was as good as their music."

Not so far removed from the attitude towards Merlin, although it has been on a smaller scale in this case.

The first Merlin tour, still underway, is rigorous. They are playing ballrooms and colleges all over the country on a lengthy round.

An ambitious project for a new, unknown band, but it has already been successful in that it has launched them as a name people now know. A full-page advertisement was bought in the MM. That's the sort of treatment you might get if you're Bowie, or Ferry, or even Mick Ronson. But Merlin?

They have only been in existence in their present form since last May.

They emerged as a result of discussions between Alan Love and Derek Chick about the possibility of forming a band with definite commercial appeal and a glamorous stage act. The idea reached fruition via a band called Madrigal, who had for some time been working the same circuit as Mud before "Crazy" broke for them.

Madrigal disbanded but reformed with the same drummer and bass player, and Love as singer and Chick as manager. A couple more young musicians were found to join them and Chick started the usual hustling to get them going.

In due course they came to the attention of Cookaway, and Roger Greenaway was hastily summoned to take a look at them. He had already seen Madrigal and when he saw the new model he immediately saw a big future for them.

Greenaway says: "I'd been looking for a group of this type for three years - a young under-20s group who can present a good act. There's a lot more showmanship attached to bands now. I wanted an act with a slightly different approach. I was in New York producing the Drifters and I came back especially to hear them."

He quickly took them into a studio to see how they reacted there and among the tracks they recorded was "Let Me Put My Spell On You" which had been written by Greenaway in collaboration with Tony Macaulay. Like Queen, the best equipment and some fancy costumes were bought for them and the launching process was put into operation.

My own experience of the Merlin project was a couple of weeks ago at Reading Top Rank - a bizarre mixture of precocious boppers, ageing teds, and stern-looking heavies.

Posters and pictures of the group were plastered all over the place and by the time they eventually appeared late in the evening you had been informed quite thoroughly that Merlin had made a record called "Let Me Put My Spell On You."

Greenaway says of Love: "He's got star quality and he's a great charmer. The guitar player Jamie Moses has got a terrific potential too. I've worked with Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones but for me this guy at 18 is a better player than Jimmy Page was at the same age. He's the sort of player guys can follow - like Jet Harris - he had an incredible following with the guys."

He likens the Merlin launch to a military operation. The career of the group has been minutely planned since October. Accepting that it is almost impossible to get airplay for a new band on the BBC they decided the best way to break them was through a solid mass of live dates.

The dates were booked, once again the best equipment, including a light show, was bought for them, and distinctive stage costumes especially designed.

"By the time the tour has ended they will be a really tight band. We are getting support in the regions and you can break a record if you can get regional radio stations and disco plays. I believe this record is a hit and the signs are there. This is a ten-year job as far as I'm concerned."

Not that big money backing is any guarantee of success.

One of the biggest projects of this type was the launching of young Darren Burn as Britain's answer to Donny Osmond. To their eternal credit the record-buying public didn't apparently want an answer to Mr Osmond and the campaign failed.

The pop supermarket is not a new trend. The attractively packaged mass-produced record has been a part of the industry for a long time. The early releases of Love Affair, White Plains and Edison Lighthouse for example spring to mind.

The whole thing is justified for the makers by the fact that they still become hits, thus proving there is a demand for made-to-order records. If the public is willing - or gullible enough - to pay 50p for music created in the boardroom. Well it must be OK.

The Merlin single is blatantly, unashamedly aimed at being a big hit - that seems to have been the one criterion in making it. It has all the ingredients and as the whole thing has been done with concentrated professionalism it will probably be a hit.

Back to Roger Greenaway: "I don't want to present this as a Monkees type of image. It's not a manufactured group in any way - these guys have all been in other bands.

"What Merlin are about is success - reaching people. It's so wrong for opposing people to criticise. If Chinn and Chapman go out to reach a particular market at the thing they do best, and they reach them, then they're doing their job. They've filled a gap.

"When this record happens it'll be called hype but we haven't hyped anybody. Not a vast amount of money has been spent on them. It would be silly to have a tour like this without some sort of advertising. All the money that has been spent on them so far has been towards getting them on the road.

"It's expensive but it's minimal if you think of it as a along term thing."

It may be unfair to associate Queen with the pop supermarket. The group themselves were apprehensive about appearing on Top Of The Pops and the prospect of a hit record.

They have always regarded themselves as an album band and were concerned about being connected with the chart groups. The fact remains that they have been on the receiving end of a giant campaign to create a best-selling single and album.

The first album had sold far better than they had anticipated and there was great excitement around Trident and EMI as the second one was being made. Manager Jack Nelson came in virtually every day to play new tracks as they were completed and many discussions followed on which one should be released as a single.

A special meeting was held between Bagnall, Fowler, marketing manager Paul Watts and a few others to discuss the approach to the release of "Queen 2."

"We talked about the possibility of boxing the album, and other various publicity and posters needed to produce an album we were convinced was going to be one of the biggest of the year. We set a high target for it. 'Seven Seas' isn't a housewives' record so with the daily shows like Edmonds, Blackburn and Hamilton, there's no chance of getting it played, we knew that from the start. But the weekend shows - Rosko, Henry, and D.L.T. - they all flipped over it. I took the records round personally because I felt so strongly about it."

The prime plug, however, is Top Of The Pops. If a record gets exposure on that there is a more than even chance that it will become a hit. He played it to the show's Robin Nash and a couple of days later Nash phoned him and asked him where Queen were. Later he rang back and invited Queen to do a session.

The band weren't too sure whether they wanted to do it but eventually agreed although even then they didn't know until the last minute whether it would be used because they were half expecting a David Bowie film to arrive and take it's place. But in the end Queen were shown and "Seven Seas Of Rhye" moved dramatically from there.

"A lot of people have invested an awful lot of time and money in this band but not as a hype," says Bagnall. "The only truth in the music business is that if a band isn't good, no amount of money will get them to make it."

Greenaway may be right that Merlin are one of the most exciting bands to merge since the Beatles. Fowler might be right that Queen are one of the best since the Who. But big business still remains one of the sadder aspects of the music industry today.

----------

Huge thanks to the anon who brought this to my attention, since I’ve been looking for a copy of this article for ages now!

Credit for the original scans goes to @Chrised90751298 over on twitter, though I stitched it back together into a single image for ease of posting over there. Open the image in a new tab to see the full-size version!

#queen band #queen #queenband #merlin band #long post //#text

62 notes · View notes