"John Could Say Things About Paul, But If Anyone Said Anything Bad About Paul, John Would Take A Swing

#ilovepaul

"IT'S A METAPHOR, BRIAN!"

Hi, you can call me a fanboy, a fanatic, or I guess you can call me @eric-carrburetorr, I haven't settled on a nice name for this blog yet.

Give me asks for headcanons or any questions you want to know about rock!(My opinions or recommendations)

PS I do musician x reader requests for members of the below listed bands!

My blog for other things is @raventhebard.

I'm He/him and trans male.

I like KISS, Queen, David Bowie, Nirvana, Guns N Roses, Rolling Stones, and I'm getting into more bands all the time!

I made this blog because I want some friends that are into rock.

What about a crack a/b/o fic where the Time Ripper gives Wade a/b/o characteristics bc Logan had them in his universe and they both freak out about it?

…

Wade suddenly leaned close to Logan’s neck—making his hackles immediate rise. It’d been awhile since anyone dared to get close enough to scent Logan, but he was familiar with the entitled behavior. Alphas sniffing around whenever they wanted— sticking their noses in places they shouldn’t.

“Ooo nice cologne! It’s really giving Canadian wild man,” Wade said and leaned away, smiling like he hadn’t just rudely violated Logan’s space. It’s not like he could possible know it reeked of alpha behavior.

Logan glared at him, wary. “I’m not wearing any cologne.”

“Riiiight,” Wade drawled, “so you just naturally smell like freshly fallen snow and pine trees?”

And a subtle hint of burning wood and tobacco, but Wade wasn’t going to mention that. It was obvious Logan smoked like a chimney.

Every bone in Logan’s body tensed. “Yeah? I just smell like this.”

Wade paused; a rare occurrence of thinking before he spoke. If Logan wasn’t yanking his chain, it probably had to do with his mutation. Honestly, Wade expected him to smell more like a wet dog, given the ‘wild animal’ accusations, but he wasn’t complaining. It smelled like the cologne an actor down on their luck would advertise to remind the world of how sexy and manly they were. If Logan chose to douse himself in the Sexy ManTM cologne and hide it under the sink, Wade wasn’t going to throw a fit.

In fact, he might thank him for it. The whole apartment had the smell of Canadian wilderness, just on the side of forest fire. Logan must have sprayed the place (and he meant either literally with a bottle of cologne or like Mary Puppins did sometimes when she felt territorial- if Logan was telling the truth).

“Wow,” Wade said, deciding to let it go just because Logan’s shoulders were up to his ears and his knuckles were tight in a fist.

A sore spot maybe. He wouldn’t question it, even though he really wanted to. Didn’t mean Wade wasn’t going to tease him, though.

“God really does pick favorites, huh?”

Logan huffed and grumbled under his breath, “It’s given me more trouble than it’s worth. Not exactly a gift.”

Logan scent was always potent. Smelly, to most— intoxicating to some. People couldn’t decide if they resented him just for existing and smelling the way he did or if his potent scent gave them a free pass to treat him like he was for sale. More subtle smelling omegas usually got by unnoticed, but nothing about Logan was subtle or allowed him to fly under the radar.

Wade didn’t seem to know what to make of the comment, looking as if he would vocalize a stream of question marks if he could. (How on earth could naturally smelling like the sexiest man alive be a bad thing??) Logan felt a stab of envy, thinking about how lucky Wade was living without the cloud of pheromones in the air and the countless rules based on secondary genders.

Logan also didn’t know what to think about the fact that Wade was only now saying something about his scent. Since he landed in this universe, he was under the impression that no one had pheromones and therefore, no one smelled them either. He decided he’d ask Althea about it tomorrow.

…

I actually have a whole au about it if anyone is interested in this crack idea

5th wheel Izzy is my spirit animal

Slaxl, Stuff , and Forever Alone Izzy.

okay but imagine being head over heels for a girl, having her ask you to get her off with a vibrator, actually going through with it, and laying down in her bed together with a glass of post coitus chocolate milk between you only for her to tell you that she doesn't want to die a virgin and needs to fuck some random asshole before she goes. like girl was your pussy not involved in the sex we just had or does that not count because I haven't gone to my phalloplasty appointment yet?

I don't have words for this

Wade: I just drank a lego piece.

Logan: ...what the hell?! You melted plastic and drank the liquid?

Wade: Yes.

Logan: Why did you even melt a lego in the first place?!

Wade: Because it looked like chocolate! So I drank it! You know, like a chocolate shake?

On chapter ten of that Freddie fic

FOUND IT!!!!!

The Beautiful One / Prince Imagine

Request: Hey, I’m in a bad mood since I was bullied today, can I ask for a fic in which Prince comforts a bullied reader? 

I’m so so sorry this happened today @ladybowiestardust you really don’t deserve it at all and people can just be so mean! But it always does get better and I am always here for you, and if you want me to deal with them, just send me in the right direction!! <333

‘They said…what’

‘Please, Prince, just calm down, you’re literally just off the stage! You’re going to collapse!’

‘They said what to you?’

Prince’s fingernails dig into the leather chair that rests precariously under shaking hands so hard you fear it may leave permanent marks. Your fears are confirmed as his grip suddenly slacks, his fist slamming down onto the vanity table as his lips twitch into a scowl, pausing for a moment to think.

‘Not now, Jerome’, he shouts, whipping his head towards the opening door in dismay, ‘I’m trying to think!’

‘Prince…’, you whisper, unsure of what he was planning.

It was too bright in here. Too bright, it made his head ache. Prince shuts his eyes tightly, wincing slightly in pain as the bright vanity bulbs shine out aggressively, their white beams hitting the former shadows of his skin like hot bullets as sweat begins to lightly trickle down his forehead, curving down past his lips and landing like sick teardrops onto his white cravat, his breathing becoming shallow and rough as it begins to constrict against his command. The dim rays of the lights above bathe the room in blue coldness as his arms begin to shiver, or rather shake, their grip on the oaken table becoming tighter until flashes of pain rip through his knuckles and he can feel the small  droplets of blood ping easily onto the floor as the splinters break his skin. But he doesn’t care. How could anyone dare say that to you, his bright angel, his one true love. And worse, he wasn’t there to protect you. He had been too busy up on stage, twisting his hips and slicking his hair to notice the most beautiful and precious thing was being hurt. It wasn’t it, unless you were right there by his side, and this time he had let you down.

Tapping one sleek platform boot against the floor, the curls of his hair beginning to fall over his swirling chocolate eyes as he finally releases the breath he had been holding in, tilting his head up with a surge of confidence, he surprises you by swinging into action, turning on his heel and strutting his way towards you, each stomp of his heels like a hurricane echoing around the small cream walls. You’re too shocked to move even though you’re afraid he actually might hurt someone if he leaves the room in his irritation and dismay, but as the palm of his hand thumps against the back of the door by your head, holding it shut, you’re overjoyed as he lets his head fall into the curve of your neck. 

Wrapping one slender arm around your waist, he spins the two of you round until the ruffles of his back are pinned against the wall, his fingers splayed over the small dip of your back as he rubs your skin gently, pressing dozens of fervent wet kisses against your forehead, the dip of your cheek, the tip of your nose and ears before his chin finally lands on the top of your head. His necktie is itchy against your cheek as he pulls you tighter against his erratic heart, his chest radiating a comforting heat as you grasp onto the silk material, bunching it familiarly underneath your fingertips as the two of you just stay there, locked together like Lego, just revelling in the comfort the two of you bring each other. The tips of his raven curls tickle against your face, but all you can focus on in that moment was the feeling of his mouth smiling against your head, and the slow circles of his thumbs against your muscles.

‘You’re the only girl in the world I see, y/n, you really think what anyone else says really matters? That you’re the most beautiful one, the one who owns my heart, hmm? It doesn’t matter what they say, y/n, you are beyond perfect the way you are, and they are just beyond jealous. I’m sorry I wasn’t there tonight, but I promise I will be every other one.’