i don't do bad sauce passes

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we're not kids anymore.

Love Begins
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@fightingfromtheinside
fightingfromtheinside .
Roger’s vision may not have been the greatest, especially when he was constantly instructed to wear glasses and the drummer adamantly refused because it would affect his appearance, he could tell that she seemed rather surprised to his taste in decorating his apartment but decided to simply mention it later, keeping quiet as he nodded in response to her order and busied himself in fixing her a drink. With his back turned to her, he focused on the craft of a perfect drink, measuring through a shot glass and adding ice delicately to give her a good beginning to her night and for himself would carelessly throw in some ice and a substantial amount of whiskey for he was not keen on losing his buzz any time soon.
Her remark was what caught his attention, his brows lifting over heavily lidded eyes that never strayed too far from her features while he handed her the beverage she had requested, clinking the glass with his own. “Cheers,” he stated before downing half of the glass as though he were taking a shot at a university backyard party, then continued with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah? It’s not extravagant like Fred’s but that’s how I like it. Plan to get a house some day, just not until I get someone to share it with.” he ran his tongue over his lips, tasting the burning flavour of whiskey residue with the eased buzz resettling into his system. “You live in London? I wasn’t really expecting that given your accent. Sort of expecting you to be back in the states but maybe that just makes things more exciting.” he said the latter words in jest then took another sip from his glass. “So, lovey, besides what you told me before, is there anything else you’d like me to do for you? I really don’t mind if you want to be in charge. It’s a bit of a turn on of mine.” the mischievous grin returned, as strong as ever as he leered over her pensive expression.
The journalist had noticed out of the corner of her eye the way he had made the drinks in two different fashions which she found to be a bit humorous to her . Grasping onto the glass and after the clink and a sip she just held the glass and went to go and sit down on the couch . Crossing one leg over the other . A chuckle at his mention of her accent . “ Ah , so you’ve noticed . “ Her words were more jovial and obvious . “ I didn’t grow up in London . My father was in a band before I was born and my mother was a model and they hooked up and had me . She lives in Los Angeles and well , he lives here but he would fly over for important events when I was growing up so I could have a halfway decent childhood . Though I never told my father , my mother would leave me alone most of the time so I had to fend for myself . I wouldn’t start coming to London until I was around ten and back and forth I went . “ Basically laying out a piece of her life , taking another sip of the drink and then setting it down . “ It’s boring , but I am American I was born there and grew up there . “ It was more or less complicated . Though few she knew got the full story . Her dark eyes panned over to him for a few more minutes . “ Oh ? Well , now that’s a surprise I must say … “ Speaking of his last statement made to her . Mills could honestly say she’d never been put in this position before , but it had always struck her curiosity as to how to really go about being one that demanded things . “ I can honestly say , I’ve never been in charge before … “ Admitting to him but then a smirk crawled across her lips as she looked him dead in the eyes . “ So , this is going to be a bit of fun then I guess . “ A nonchalant tone to her voice . Taking another sip of the drink . “ You should go ahead and take off your clothes then . “
Roger had decided to remain standing in the meantime, watching as the woman took her seat, continuing their conversation without missing a beat. His dreamlike gaze was fixated on her glowing visage while he subtly swayed as a result of the alcohol already flowing through his bloodstream. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, his response as calm and collected as before, “You’re better without them, love. Now, let’s forget about them. Leave the past behind and move on, yeah?” he set the empty glass aside before leaning his shoulder against the wall, narrow arms slipping one over the other while his foot shook semi-restlessly.
When their exchange had shifted to the inevitable, and naturally the main reason they were exactly where they were, the drummer’s raised question received a response he wasn’t exactly expecting but did not bother him in the slightest. “Oh, so that’s it, then?” he responded, his dark brows lifting into his blonde fringe although he didn’t appear very surprised at the command, instead giving the thought a shrug before bringing his hands to casually undo each button on his shirt, working his way down until the shirt had completely draped open, exposing his pale chest. “Just curious, wouldn’t you want me to keep my dignity with my pants?” he hissed sweetly through his teeth, tilting his head endearingly to the side, golden locks of hair draping over the nearest shoulder. He knew that playing hard to get might bring out more of her inner desire to be in control and though he was more of a dominant personality, he enjoyed a strong woman and was more than happy to oblige with whatever she so desired.
Without saying any more, he unbuttoned his denim jeans and carefully pulled them down his slim legs, removing each pant cuff until they were discarded alongside the jacket and eventually the shirt would follow suit, his hands settling confidently on his hips with a daring stare. “Alright, now what?”
They really love us.
Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)
https://www.instagram.com/p/BiA8QtNgIKj/
PSA
No means no.
If a muse isn’t interested in yours, if they turn yours down. Don’t push. Stop forcing sexual interactions if it’s clearly obvious the other parties aren’t interested.
It’s not cool. At all. Characters aren’t here only for sex. They aren’t just pieces of meat to drool over and claim.
NO. MEANS. NO.
I’m back!! I have some time for writing so I’ll get what I can done today and over the next few days!
John & Roger, 1979.
FEMALE MUSES ARE VALID TOO. just a little psa to let all of you know that if you don’t even bother replying to a female muse’s starter or are only interested in writing with male muses then you honestly need to check yourself. for muns with a multi - muse who’s female muses get ignored , it’s discouraging. female muses deserve good and awesome plots just like male muses. female muses deserve emotional plots like male muses do. female muses aren’t just here to fill up a void. female muses are valid too and it’s time for people to realise and respect that.
Character Flaws Meme
bold flaws your character has / italicise ones they used to have, or have partially. feel free to add more.
absent-minded / abusive / addicted / aimless / alcoholic / aloof / anxious / arrogant / audacious / has bad habits / bad tempered / bigmouthed / bigoted / blunt / bold / callous / childish / clumsy / cruel / cursed / dependent / dishonest / disloyal / disturbed / dubious / egotistical / envious / erratic / fanatical / fickle / fierce / finicky / flirty / gluttonous / gruff / gullible / hedonistic / humourless / hypocritical / idiotic / idealistic / ignorant / illiterate / immature / impatient / impious / impish / incompetent / indecisive / indifferent / infamous / intolerant / jealous / judgemental / lazy / lewd / liar / lustful / manipulative / masochistic / meddlesome / meek / megalomaniac / messy / naïve / nervous / nosey / obsessive / oppressive / overambitious / overemotional / overprotective / overzealous / paranoid / peevish / perfectionist / pessimistic / phobic / proud / rage / rebellious / reckless / remorseless / rigorous / sadistic / sadomasochist / sarcastic / skeptic / seducer / selfish / self-martyr / self-righteous / senile / shallow / smart ass / solemn / spineless / spiteful / spoiled / squeamish / stubborn / superstitious / tactless / temperamental / theatrical / timid / tongue-tied / troublemaker / unlucky / unpredictable / untrustworthy / vain / vengeful / violent / weak-willed / withdrawn
tagged by : @musicflavored
tagging: @belladoniic
The Band
@greyhoundgxrl liked for a starter.
“Honestly, it’s just the name of the band. It doesn’t mean anything more than just a title thought up by a group of four English blokes with nothing better to do.”
The drummer explained to a music journalist, exasperated as it seemed every person thought the name was due to the musicians’ flambuoyant appearances and henceforth their sexuality. They weren’t particularly keen on dealing with the strangest questions that every band seemed to have dealt with while on the rise. But, press was press and they had to be on their very best behaviour despite the repetitive interrogations.
“I do have much more, but it’s back at my apartment,” Madeline told him, smugly, “and we can always stop at the department store if we have the time. And, if its a black and white motif, don’t I just need black and white?” She giggled, before suggesting a little pattern by his eyes that resembled the design on that leotard Freddie often sported. “A black diamond and a white diamond below the eye, then the opposite color diamond on the outer corner. I’ll make it shimmer too.”
As Roger walked out of the elevator, Madeline turned to him and cheekily said, “I know you want me to do you every night, but what about the makeup?” She giggled at her own cleverness. As Roger called for a car, Maddie stuck to his side like an accessory. She stepped up to the cab once it arrived for the pair.
“Well, you may as well get your arse to your apartment before the show tonight,” Roger teased, nudging her with his elbow accompanied by a wink. He then rolled his large eyes toward the ceiling, tisking her for her naivete. “Oh, lovey, no no no! You’ve got to stop thinking like an American! This is Queen. Freddie fucking Mercury is the front man! If I want to have even the slightest chance of being noticed with my fashionable flare from behind those drums in the back of the stage, it’s got to be by thinking outside of the box.” he shook his finger at her. “This is why you never see American musicians wearing crazy coloured makeup. You all think it’s black and white. What about gold? Emerald green? Violet? There’s so many colours to choose from!” He paused for dramatic effect before admitting lowly, “But yeah, I’d like it to shimmer. The brighter the better.”
“–And just so you know, I like mascara. I wasn’t blessed with these long lashes for it to go to waste just because I happen to be blonde,” he gestured flamboyantly–a la Freddie–towards his eyes, which he batted with a laugh on his way into the car behind her. “We’ll see how tonight goes. As long as I can take it off easy so the press don’t catch me looking like some drag queen. I’m not that kind of Queen!”
“We’ll go after we go to the record store,” Madeline assured him, "I’ll get all of my colors, and I’ll make sure you look outside of the box, and I’ll use every color of the rainbow.“ Madeline was already planning on a different look for him. Something that would make him stand out from behind those drums. “Yes, I have all those colors, and I’ll use all those colors.” His insistence was amusing to her, and she couldn’t help but giggle at this. Her voice lowered to meet his as she promised, "you’ll shimmer, I promise.“
Madeline got into the cab and buckled herself up. "Dwayne’s Revolution Records, please,” she said to the driver. Maddie leaned back and turned to Roger. “Trust me,” she said, before gesturing to her own face, a la Freddie, “if I can make this look good, I can make anyone look good.” She winked at him, placing her hand on top of his.
Roger smiled smugly, enjoying what he heard from Madeline readying her plans for his makeup routine like a readied professional in the field of dealing with glammed-up rock stars on a day-to-day basis. There was something about her go-to attitude and willingness to put up with him that kept him feeling motivated, proud almost to be doing what he loved and to have someone with him, a companion to keep him safe and well looked after brought a new sense of security. She was basically his girlfriend for the remainder of the American tour and for a short while, he felt a sense of normalcy. His ocean blue eyes shimmered with admiration from beneath caramel-coloured lenses as he grasped her hand with his own, running his calloused thumb over her smooth skin while they approached the vehicle.
Once inside the cramped leather seating, the drummer draped his arm loosely around her narrow shoulders, while continuing to look out the window at the shining Los Angeles skyline. Her remark caused him to sneak a glance back in her direction from his periphery, letting out a short snicker. “Lovey, you always look good.”
If they were children on the playground, he’d be tugging on her pigtails. Madeline smirked. She liked going toe to toe with Roger, pushing back with equal wit. There was a threshold of what Maddie put up with, and Roger always pushed that. Somehow, she didn’t mind at all. Madeline blushed as he took her hand and ran his rough fingers over it. She squeezed his hand to let him know she liked it. Was this a relationship? Was Madeline his girlfriend? Well, probably for this leg of the tour anyway. Best not to put labels on it. Might cause you to overstay your welcome.
Once he was situated in the cab and draped his arm over her shoulder, Maddie more or less snuggled up to Roger. The driver took them through Los Angeles. Maddie watched the city float past them. “Well, then you should be happy to know you’re in good hands,” Maddie winked at him.
Madeline’s reciprocated gesture via her grasp on his hand tightening was appreciated but the drummer wasn’t quite sure what the young woman might be thinking. Perhaps about how to plan her next few weeks around hanging with Queen while they complete their tour since it did require quite a bit of dedication to put up with the band’s hectic schedule just to be the blonde musician’s companion but he had to be grateful.
Roger’s life was a lonely one due to the fact that the young man wasn’t faithful to past girlfriends while on the road and he was finding it difficult to be in a committed relationship when what he had learned of such things was through a very toxic viewpoint of his parents and their poor treatments toward each other. What a load of rubbish that was: relationships, marriage–the whole thing. It was a sham just for legality’s sake and the drummer wasn’t about to be a part of such a toxic system. And yet, when he was with a woman by the likes of Madeline–not a groupie but a rather independent individual with an attractive likeness and personality–he felt as though maybe a relationship for the long run wouldn’t be so bad.
It was there that he realised his gaze was basically fixated on the woman the entire time, barely saying anything in response. He quickly came to and looked away, clearing his throat and playing the feelings off as though he was simply just exhausted, the hand that had settled onto her shoulder gave her a slight squeeze while he continued to stammer. “Uh–hm, yes, year–er–whatever.” He wasn’t even paying attention to what she had talking about, those strange thoughts had clouded his focus and left him feeling the nearly desperate urge to kiss her although that would be rather confusing, wouldn’t it?
Of course, she wasn’t his girlfriend. Madeline would be stupid to believe that. Madeline prided herself on avoiding heartbreak. Being a girlfriend would lead to heartbreak, and that was just something she didn’t have time for. Roger probably didn’t even want a girlfriend anyway. He probably wanted to keep up with his raunchy bachelor lifestyle. A girlfriend would cramp that style. So, she merely kept her hand in his, grateful to be just his companion.
But was the end goal to be loved? No, no, it was not. There wasn’t really an end goal. A relationship seemed so out of reach to Madeline. She came of age during the summer of love, where everyone was swapping partners and experimenting. And it’s not like she had many good examples back at home. So, Madeline simply just accepted that she probably wouldn’t be in a real relationship ever. Still, everyone needed someone, didn’t they?
Madeline soon realized while she was admiring her city, Roger seemed to be admiring her. Maddie opened her mouth as if to say something, but found herself silent as her eyes were drawn to his lips. He was stammering something but she didn’t really understand. Was Roger about to kiss her? Was Maddie about to kiss him? She leaned in slightly more when they were interrupted. The driver had parked in front of the record shop. “Dwayne’s Revolution Records,” he said, turning to look at the two.
After averting his gaze, the drummer sat in silence, believing the woman to have found out just what he might have been contemplating–using a smooth silent approach so as to protect himself from any further embarrassment on his part and still remain in demi-godlike status for the duration of his time spent with her. It appeared that the cabbie would be the true saving grace of the current predicament, announcing the arrival of Madeline’s chosen destination with about as much fervour as one with a tedious job such as public transport would when chauffeuring around some strange and colourful characters.
With little to no hesitation, Roger promptly made his way out of the cab, shoving his hands into his pockets to wait for her to job him, giving little to no desire to aid her from the vehicle–mainly because he didn’t want her to think she was incapable of handling her own but also due to the fact that the young man did happen to be rather selfish from time to time.
He looked on at the facade of the record store from behind caramel-coloured prescription lenses with narrowed eyes, wondering how much the business must have suffered due to its heavy competition with Tower Records across town. It was smaller but he would give it the benefit of the doubt; for Madeline’s sake. “So this is it, then?” His gravely voice rumbled from the back of his throat, the morning still maintaining its hold on his vocal cords, “I suppose it’ll be interesting.”
Damn that driver. Madeline closed her mouth hesitantly, like she was just about to say something controversial but then had second thoughts. A blush rose in her cheeks, embarrassed that she’d even assume something like that. But his change in attitude was surprising. Did she do something wrong? Well, she intended to find out. She pulled a few bucks from her purse and paid the man, thanking him for the ride.
Madeline gave him a strange look as he exited the cab without a word or a helping hand. The cab sped off once she had gotten out and dusted herself off. She slung her purse over her shoulder and approached the beloved record store. The sign reading “Dwayne’s Revolution Records” was painted in day-glo that was now ironically faded. Faded pictures of current artists and famed jazz singers were hung behind the dirty window panes. Maddie pushed the door open, listening to the little bell ring as she entered, leading Roger in.
The store was empty, aside from two gawky teenagers browsing the stacks looking for Zappa records. Tower Records had really done a number on the place. The pair turned to look at the newcomers, quickly looking away and playing it cool when they realized they were in Roger Taylor’s presence. “Is that who I think it is,” a large man with a cigar in one hand and a BLT sandwich in the other. Maddie smiled, “aw, Dwayne, you know you’ll always be my number one.” She gave him a quick side hug, before asking if he had been saving any special records for her.
With Madeline at his side, the blonde musician’s gaze shifted toward her form in his periphery while his face continued to face the building’s rather dreary facade--no, dreary wasn’t the right word to describe what he was looking at--depressing was more like it. It appeared the way more Londoners tended to see the buildings their so-called “fabulous” town: gritty, faded, and lacking a significant amount of attention yet still functional for some strange reason known to only a slight few. Even the promotional posters for the more recent releases appeared aged and faded from the constant downpour of the sun’s rays against the windows. If Roger was being completely honest, he didn’t really want to go into the building based on appearances alone but who was he to judge? Perhaps it was the shoddy way he came to conscious that morning that was leaving him in a more judgemental state of mind, but that pondering would get him nowhere and he wasn’t about to disregard Madeline’s word.
The woman seemed to know quite a lot when it came to music and virtually anything in that general realm of knowledge. She was an “it” girl but not in the vapid sense by any means. The girl could be a great rock writer or more if she pushed herself in that direction but god only knew what her goals were for the future. The only thing the drummer could do was follow her into the dingy building and take her word that it was all worth it; he did have a profound amount of respect for a woman in her shoes, after all.
From the moment he followed her into the store, he suddenly felt extremely self-aware based on the strong feeling of numerous eyes settled on his seraphic appearance adorned with the latest fashion trends. It was something he believed to have gotten used to until he was put into a setting where the eyes were few but just enough to still detract from his original purpose in being there. His lips thinned as he compressed them together before making the decision to approach the man that appeared to embody one of the many stereotypes the English had of Americans, finding it only appropriate to shake his hand. “Charming place you’ve got.” he piped up, feeling rather self-aware that his own voice was significantly higher than the scraggly character he was looking up to, not entirely sure how to move forward from that particular point, eventually making the decision to inform Madeline that he’ll be browsing at the newest releases to keep on top of the ever-changing styles of popular music.
Been occupied with other things, sorry for being away! Mutuals, if you want to plot, just know I don’t bite! I’m only an extreme introvert so I do apologise
Happy birthday Roger dearie
“You’re a dear for not forgetting!”
Happy 71st Birthday, Roger Taylor! ʀᴏᴄᴋ ʟᴇɢᴇɴᴅ, ᴀᴅᴠᴏᴄᴀᴛᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴇɴᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴜɴsᴛᴇʀ.
b. 26 July 1949
No hate no fight,
Just excitation.
All through the night,
It’s a celebration.
Oh give me a good guitar And you can say that my hair’s a disgrace Or just find me an open car I’ll make the speed of light outta this place
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