The Buggles:Freelancer/Adventurer.Reasoning: Present early on. Their breakup after their second album flopped, followed by Geoffrey Downes moving to Asia (e: the band, not the continent) while Trevor Horn shifted focus to producing, parallels the first job change of a game - the moment where, mechanically speaking, everything changes as the PCs begin to embrace divergent roles.
Billy Joel:Rogue.Reasoning: I want to establish that I don’t think Billy Joel is in any way cool. He’s not even Nerd Cool like nearly everyone else on this list, where yeah they’re a goofy weirdo but they own it and make it work. One time I realized I didn’t know what Billy Joel looked like so I looked it up and got confused as to why Google was showing me all these pictures of a washed-up high school physics teacher. Anyway his songs are all about shit like “seducing good Catholic women into a life of sin and debauchery” (Only The Good Die Young), or “fuck breaking my back at a nine to five job maaaaaaan” (Movin’ Out), or “you dig it when I act like a reckless asshole” okay hold on actually in retrospect maybe the bit in You May Be Right where the speaker motorcycles home blind drunk should have been a red flag?
Cyndi Lauper:Gladiator. Reasoning: There is no way that Lou Albano didn’t teach her a bunch of powerful wrestling secrets. There’s an alternate universe out there where she joined the WWF in 1984 and became the woman Undertaker. Nobody would have beaten her ever.
Devo: Either alchemists or black mages. Self explanatory.
Frankie Goes To Hollywood: Either cleric/white mage or druid, depending on how you feel about Weed Joke’s. Reasoning: Frankie say relax.
Fred Schneider: Beastmaster or Summoner.Reasoning: While he’s an excellent and unique performer, the girls in the band - despite doing what once might want to call “backup vocals” - feel like they do an equal or even disproportionately high amount of the work carrying each song, y'know? Also I like to imagine his ultimate skill is summoning a living planet named Claire.
Best things about Progress Wrestling (in no particular order)
- Jim Smallman being an incredible hype man and having the ability to just have a chat for two hours. - BRITISH STRONG STYLE. - TK Cooper being an absolute creeper. - Travis Banks, specifically. Just everything about Travis Banks. - The crowd and how supportive they are of new talents. And of really any talents. Except Sebastian. - The intensity of the booing for Zack Gibson. I mean… damn. - KEEP IT 100 IS FIRE. <3 - The Glen Joseph reaction meter. - The names of these damn shows.
Request: Imagine giving Juice a lap dance on his birthday.
The room flickered with the lights of dozens of candles and you bit your lip as you examined your work. It had taken you most of the afternoon to get this ready and you’d been grateful that Jax had agreed to keep Juice busy. You glanced at your watch; 5:47pm. Time to get ready. You glanced around the room and smiled. He was going to love it. You slid the lighter back into your jean pocket and headed down the hallway to the bedroom.
The house was dark when Juice pulled into the driveway and he frowned slightly as he sat on his bike and removed his helmet. He was sure you said you’d be home, but still he saw no light coming from the dark windows. Juice rested his helmet on the handle bars and swung his leg over. He ran his hand over his face and sighed. Almost all day Jax had been working him hard; not that he was complaining. Juice loved the work he did for the club, and he lived his brothers more than anything. But today had been different, and Juice had almost felt like a prospect again. He knew he wouldn’t get special treatment for his birthday, and he didn’t expect any. Yet he couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt that no one seemed to remember. Juice’s footsteps were heavy as he headed to the front door, his head hung low. He rummaged in his pocket for the keys and pulled them out, gingerly unlocking the door and pushing it open. He didn’t lift his head as he stepped inside and closed the door before kicking his boots off. He turned to walk into the house and stopped in his tracks.
The entire living room was practically empty. All the usual furniture was gone, replaced by a simple chair in the centre of the room. Dozens of candles littered every spare surface in the room, every shelf, the mantelpiece, even a few on the floor. “Babe?” Juice called out. No answer. He took a cautious step forward and spotted the note lying on the seat of the chair. The rest of the house looked dark and Juice took the last few steps to the chair and llifted the note. ‘Sit.’ That was all it read, written in your delicate handwriting. Juice smiled slightly and pulled the kutte from his shoulders, his eyes glancing around the room. He hung his leather on the back of the chair and took a seat. The chair was positioned to face the hallway and he looked into the darkness, waiting patiently. Smooth music began to play softly and Juice smirked into the darkness. He couldn’t help but feel you were watching amongst the shadows. And he was right. You waited for the music to play a little longer before you stepped out into the light. Juice’s eyes followed up your body, from your freshly painted manicure on the soft carpet to your smooth legs, to the black satin robe hanging loosely around your body. Juice licked his lips and you smirked as you walked towards him and stopped a few feet in front of him. He leant back in his chair, his eyes wide with excitement. Slowly, you lifted your hands and began to untie the robe.
The black satin dropped to the floor, the fabric pooling around your bare ankles and Juice’s eyes widened. Red lace garters hugged your thighs, and matched the red panty and bra set perfectly. Juice licked his lips and grinned at you, his eyes eating up every inch of your body. His eyes followed you as you walked slowly and seductively towards him, stopping between his legs. You placed your hands on the back of his chair, either side of his face. You leant in close to whisper in his ear, giving him a close up view of your breasts tightly bound in lace, before allowing your hot breath to ghost his skin. “Happy birthday, baby.” You pulled back and the music ended, quickly followed by another song. Juice bit his lip as you straddled him and began to grind your hips against his, moving in slow teasing circles. You couldn’t help but enjoy this sudden power you had over him. Juice lifted his hands and placed them on your hips but you slapped them away. “No touching.” You’d scolded. Your hips continued to grind and you arched your body back, letting your hair touch the floor and Juice eyed your bodily hungrily. “Damn, baby.” Juice said, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel he was already hard through the fabric of his jeans but you weren’t going to give in- not yet. You pulled your body up and stood between his legs before turning your back to him. Juice growled at the sight of the red lace hugging the curves of your ass and you placed your hands on his knees and lowered your body into his lap. His hardness pressed against you and you smirked as you moved your hips in teasing circles, your back pressed against his chest. Juice growled again. It was taking all of his will power to not wrestle you to the floor and take you, but he was enjoying every second of your sweet torture. You leant forward, giving him a better view of your ass before you pulled yourself back upright, your hips moving in time with the music. “Fuck, baby.” He whispered, his lips brushing against your ear lobe ever so lightly. The husky tone of his voice made you tremble a little and you could sense yourself weakening to him. You tilted your head back, arching your neck and almost instantly you felt the hot air from his breath trailing your skin. You couldn’t deny your arousal, the lace panties you wore were slowly getting wetter with each move of your hips. Juice’s hardness pressed against you through his jeans and you bit your lip and snapped your head up before lifting your body and standing before him. His eyes were full of hunger and you smirked as you sunk to your knees in front of him. You kick your lips as you trace your hands up his thighs and quickly unzip his jeans. His erection stands proud as you tug the denim down his thighs and you lift your head to meet his eyes. Juice bit his lip and you smirked before taking hold of his member. He could feel your hot breath on him and he gasped slightly as you licked around his tip. You pumped him slowly with your hand as you traced your tongue along his length. You wrapped your lips around him and swirled your tongue against him, earning a low moan from Juice. You took another inch of him into your mouth, bobbing your head slowly - letting him feel every move you made. Juice ran his hands through your hair and he took a fistful, using it to guide your head further down his cock. You didn’t resist and you opened your mouth wider, allowing him to slide almost his whole length inside you. Juice moaned as he watched you’re hallowed cheeks as you took him in your mouth, in and out over and over. Slowly you pulled back from him, letting your saliva run down his length and you stood before him once more. There was no time to take panties off, you needed him now. You straddled his hips and reached down, pulling your panties to the side. Juice met your eye and he kissed you hungrily as you lowered yourself onto his throbbing cock. You gasped as he filled you and he moaned at your wetness, all ready for him. His hands gripped your ass cheeks tightly and a soft whimper left your lips as you moved your hips against his, repeating your earlier moves. Only this time he was inside you, stretching your walls with his length. Juice couldn’t get enough of you, he could feel the juice’s of your pussy dripping down him as you moved and he growled. “Fuck baby, your so tight.” You moaned and bucked your hips harder now, desperate for more friction. Your eyes met his and you crashed your lips against his hungrily, moaning into his mouth. You rode him fiercely, letting his length fill you and it wasn’t long before both of you were coming. You rode out your high, your movements slowing. “Fuck, baby that was good.” Juice said through breaths. You smirked at him and stood. “Cmon, we gotta get ready.” “Ready for what?” Juice asked, his brows furrowed. “Your birthday party. Jax promised to keep you busy while I set this up, and I promised to keep you busy while they set up the clubhouse.” You told him. Juice grinned and stood, pulling you towards him and kissed you deeply. “Thank you baby.” He said lovingly. “Anytime, birthday boy.”