#At least 1 clip from every year of their career

[piratewithvigor]

Sold As Set, Do Not Separate:

20 Years Of Young Bucks

[moonshine-nightlight]

Courtship Confusion: Part One

You’ve been working with your siren partner for a couple years now. A consummate flirt, you’d initially been put off by his whole charming deal, somehow he's become your best friend. You’ve been wanting to see if he’s still interested in dating, but unfortunately he’s not picking up your hints. A pair of visiting cubi remind you of the cultural differences that come with interspecies dating. Maybe you’ve both been misunderstanding each other. Maybe it’s time you set the record straight.

Modern Fantasy, friends to lovers, siren/harpy, male monster x reader, Part 1 of 8

Ao3: Courtship Confusion Chapter 1

Part One

“Start blocking the exits, people. They’re making a run for it. Team Lure, you’re up,” the static-y voice says from your radio.

“Confirmed. Lure moving into position,” you answer for yourself and your partner before clipping the walkie talkie back onto your belt. You glance over to your partner who, per usual, looks far too unconcerned and cheerful for the mission of stopping a crew of smugglers. “Where do you want to set up?”

Morgan grins at you, sharp white teeth flashing even in this dim warehouse. “You know where.”

You stifle a grin of your own, knowing one of you needs to remain professional, and roll your eyes instead. “Wherever you can be the center of attention, right.”

He preens as he fluffs out his feathers. You only asked once how exactly his wings can go from resting comfortably and unobtrusively on his back, hardly seeming to take up any space at all, to a full wingspan that was enough to carry him. The highly technical arcane answer he’d given had been enough to serve as a reminder that, despite his carefree attitude, he was a fully licensed arcanist and make sure you never asked again. You’re the investigator and rules side of your inspector partnership—Morgan was the technical and social side. You liked it that way.

A career as an investigator of potentially illegal arcane workings isn’t nearly as glamorous or exciting as most people think it is. Most of the time it was just about handing out fines to people dabbling in things they shouldn’t and accidentally flooding their apartments or conjuring too many hamsters. But, sometimes, like today, you end up having to bust an illegal coven.

When containment spells failed and the criminals scattered, it’s your job to pull them all back. Well, mainly Morgan’s job.

From his high quality suit to his expertly applied eyeliner, he didn’t look the least bit like an inspector. Even the other department arcanists didn’t have his flare. Lively and cheerful where most were bored and weary, he breathed life wherever he went. And he loved to show off.

As you enter the large open area of the warehouse, you quickly begin setting up the broadcasting equipment—probably not needed, but protocol—while Morgan picks his spot. Within a few seconds, your carefully managed set up, ready to unfold for fieldwork in record time, is ready to go. You’re long practiced after being partnered these last couple of years.

Looking up, you find Morgan spreading his gorgeous black and white wings to alight on a stack of old pallets the cult left in this warehouse they’d been using as their base putting him several feet above everyone else.

“Careful!” you call despite knowing it's a lost cause.

Morgan flicks his wings in a careless, shrug-like gesture. “Worrywart,” he teases. You only have to give him a look to remind him of the incident with the ice for him to pout, the dark red of his lipstick making the expression obvious even with the height and distance. “That was one time! Are you set up?”

His voice is easily audible, as always, but you have to raise yours to reply, “Yeah, ready to go.”

He looks at you expectantly.

You put your hands on your hips to communicate ‘really? Do we need to do this every time?’ and he grins in response.

“Let the show begin!” you grudgingly prompt.

He’s no longer a performer by profession, but you can’t deny that's who he is in his heart. It’s hard to begrudge him the little bow he gives. Not when his eyes glitter with simple glee as he does so. “Thank you, darling.” Morgan clears his throat and closes his eyes, thankfully keeping him from noticing the effect the endearment had on you. Regrettably, the effect of him calling you “darling” to you has only gotten stronger with time.

Before you can dwell on it, Morgan makes a sort of clicking noise in the back of his throat. He’s tried to explain to you once why all of his songs started that way, but you’ve never truly understood. Not that it really matters because it’s always followed by him opening his mouth to sing.

A beautiful wordless melody begins to flow from him.

Haunting and alluring on its own, you know his siren song must be far more potent to the criminals he’s purposely luring back here. Every member of the team was introduced to Morgan before the operation began, so Morgan was able to exempt them. His control is impeccable, but they’re still liable to get distracted. Nothing magical about that. It’s hard not to when a master like Morgan sings.

Morgan primarily sings in the siren’s language when he performs spells such as this one. He says that for spellwork there’s simply more nuance and specificity in Soprety than in any other language when it comes to the subject of things such as lures, madness, lullaby and so on.

Despite knowing very little of the language, you still understand the message the song is trying to convey: where are you going? Come back, join me, this is where true happiness lies. Such is the power of a siren’s song. It’s hard to articulate the difference between the magical pull of a compulsion and the mere auditory pull of Morgan’s smooth voice. He’s never truly tried to compel you, but each time you hear him you have to put effort into focusing, into not simply basking in his voice. That’s only gotten worse the longer you’ve known him too, the more times you’ve heard him.

You don’t think it's that his singing is better, it’s only that it had seemed in the beginning, despite it’s obvious beauty even that first time, somewhat generic. Artificially or distantly beautiful. Now, his voice is so clearly entwined with who Morgan is, you can’t fathom how you thought it generic initially. His coaxing nature, always ready to persuade you to follow his lead, is woven through the words he sings as clearly as it is when he tries to convince you to take a coffee break. His promise of something better, something more fun and entertaining, if you only would listen. Of course, in this case, the outcome will only be entertaining for him. His seductive way of complimenting those he wants so that they will make the best choice by choosing him.

The music he makes is all very compelling is the point. You huff and focus back on the messages from the team—text since they’ve all got ear plugs in and don’t want to interfere with Morgan’s spell.  You don’t need the plugs, as his partner he can exempt you easily and you’ve practice functioning while he sings. Besides it's always good to have someone who can hear him in case he does need help. You check again to confirm how many you are nabbing. Seven, natural for a coven, even a criminal one. That means the rest of the operation didn’t manage to catch a single member.

Usually illegal covens are more subtle, caught due to smaller disturbances or the wrong people stumbling upon them on the wrong night. This crew has been smuggling truly nasty ingredients for dark magical spells, bewitching or killing anyone who tried to interfere. They’d been making a big enough splash despite their travels and have caught major heat by now.

The National Investigatory Agency has been tracking them. They followed the trail of memory loss and death they left in their wake. That’s not even mentioning the longer term problems that would impact a community after they’d traded their illegal and dangerous wares—increases in love potions, poisoning, and general curses. You’d managed to catch a break locally. Someone had lost their nerve about this year’s shipment in your city and your department was coordinating with the NIA for this capture. Well, at least your team was—truthfully most of the local office was just providing backup.

Morgan, as always, had a habit of disrupting the usual with just his presence. His skills had been enough to catch the head NIA officer’s attention and your captain had vouched for your effectiveness. As such, while NIA coordinated a wide-spread tracking net, your team would try to simply pull them back. It was a common enough play you two ran and this was no different.

There was some worry a witch might have protection, but most aren’t prepared for a siren song, not given how rare sirens are and especially inland. Besides, you’d unclicked the safety on your tranquilizer gun, that’s why you were here to watch Morgan’s back. He’d be pissed if you let someone interrupt his song.

Movement on your left draws your attention. A woman stumbles out from between to shipping crates, her expression muddled but searching, urgent. You check for the signs she’s ensnared as she walks closer. You’re only supposed to handle the ones who weren’t, so you let her approach once you’re convinced. When she spots Morgan, high on his perch and singing his heart out, a look of joy and greed takes over. She hurries towards him.

You wait a second before nudging a fellow officer with your boot. A transfer from another precinct, he’s not been involved in one of these operations before. He shakes himself, tearing his eyes away from Morgan to look at you. You jerk your head at the coven member and he blushes. Hastily pulling out his handcuffs, the orc goes to secure her while you train your tranq gun on the man darting out from a different doorway. This time an NIA member snags him before he can press up against the base crate Morgan’s on, for which you’re grateful.

Technically, Morgan should have crafted his spell so that the listeners won’t be too desperate to get to him, despite how he was enticing them. People will still react differently than each other so there’s no guarantee when trying to pull in a group like this. Morgan said that the more people, the less control he had over anything more than the base aim of the spell. A lullaby could put ten people to sleep, but they would likely all end up sleeping for different amounts, whereas if it was just one or two, he could control how long they slept for.

Similar thing here. He can pull them in and do his best to keep them calm, but there’s more margin for error. And Morgan’s one of the best there is. Arcane workings are always more complicated and nuanced than most people assume. If they weren’t, you’d be out of a job making sure any mistakes or malicious workings didn’t hurt anyone.

There’s a text that the NIA agents caught a pair on their own, meaning three more to go. It’s not long for them to join the others. The officers who are familiar with these types of stings are efficient, cuffing the ensnared with practiced ease.

You wait for the confirmation, all using sign language to confirm the criminals are secured. That’s your cue to whistle, two fingers in your mouth and loud enough to cut through Morgan’s song—you’ve had to practice. The whistle lets Morgan know you had them all and he flips his hand to show he’s heard. He’d never just cut off the song—for specific arcane reasons, but also because he considers it poor etiquette from a musician’s perspective. He carefully and artfully wraps up and slows down, gentling the song until it fades out.

You can’t help but feel as enraptured as the criminals are, although you try to hide it. It's too hard not to when you’re in love with him.

[hrtsdevils]

you made me love the number forty-three | fall to me au

summary: a close-knit bond is formed between luke hughes and y/n l/n throughout the years. they have their ups and downs, but they’ll always be there for one another.

pairing: platonic luke hughes x family friend!reader

wc: 1564

warnings: fuck ass bob

a/n this is based off of abby by gracie abrams, and it’s very dear to my heart! pretend that luke wasn’t committed to umich 2 years before he graduated… for the plot! sorry jack’s kind of a meanie, i love him!!! i swear!! it just fits w the lyrics <3 enjoy and thanks for reading!

tell me your secrets, ask every question. my door is open twenty-four/seven. think you were made from something in heaven. you made me love the number eleven forty-three.

october 2008-september 2010

Your family had known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your mother had played soccer at the University of New Hampshire with Ellen, and she was the first person to cheer her on once hockey season started. This allowed them to form a close bond over their four years of eligibility. The Hughes family travelled a bit around the country due to the careers of Ellen and Jim, but as soon as they settled in Toronto with their seven, five, and three-year-old sons, your mother followed suit with five-year-old you and your eight-year-old older brother.

The older two boys in each family started hockey, and Jack was soon to follow. This left you and little Luke to hang out in the care of Ellen, and occasionally your mom. At first, you loved him, he was like your personal baby doll that you could drag around, dress up, and have tea parties with. Luke didn’t usually object, except for that one incident where you tried to make him wear “clip-clops”, as you called them, to which he had a temper tantrum about the sheer idea of putting them on his feet.

As you grew older, Luke wanted less to do with you and your girly things and more to do with hockey, along with whatever else the boys were doing. Although normal of him, you still felt betrayed. What can you say; you were seven years old. To try and make you fit in, Luke took craft scissors to your long, wavy hair and cut it to look like the boys. Maybe you’d have looked better if you had a pixie cut done by a professional salon, however, he was slightly less than and you came out with the same shaggy haircut as the five-year-old. You ran to your mom immediately, about to cry of embarrassment.

“Mommy, something bad happened!” You screeched, interrupting her conversation with Ellen and catching the attention of the three boys.

Covering her mouth slightly, Ellen was the first to speak, “Oh, sweetie.. what happened?” She reached out to touch your now chin-length locks and brushed a few stray longer hairs out of your eyes.

“Luke cut it, so I could play hockey with them.” You gesture towards the boys, “And now I... I look like him!” You exclaimed out of horror, finally realizing the drastic nature of your actions.

You started to tear up before your mother cut in, “Baby, you both look adorable! It’ll grow out soon, don’t worry about it.”

You were still seething for the rest of the day, and you were plotting your revenge plan on Luke for weeks. You wanted to kill him, and had been ignoring him since that very moment.

You figured your life was over, and what better way to spend your final moments pretending Luke didn’t exist after what he’d done to you. You decided that he was public enemy #1, or at least that’s what he was until you looked in the mirror, albeit a month or two later, and your hair had grown out into a short bob, framing your sweet features beautifully. You started to feel better about it.

Later that day, you went up to your mom and curled up in her lap. “Do you think Luke and I will ever get along again?” You asked while she was reading a book.

Your mother sighed and smiled at you, “You and the boys just have different interests. When you get older, things will be different and you’ll be even closer.”

december 2015

Your mom was right, although you and Luke were pretty far in age, he was practically your baby brother and best friend. You were close, despite differing interests and he would confide in you on a regular basis. One particular night, Luke rode his bike down the sidewalk in the cold, snowy winter and knocked on the window to your first-story bedroom.

You immediately let him in, then asked him what was wrong. Ten-year-old Luke pulled you into a hug and started spilling out his feelings and secrets. “Jack’s so rude!” He exclaimed into your shoulder, “He thinks he’s so much better at everything! Hockey, Mario Kart, basketball, all of it.”

“And?” You inquired, “Just ignore him, Lukey.”

He sniffed some more and released himself from your arms, “He keeps excluding me from his friends and stuff, they’re over and he pretends I don’t exist because I’m not good.” He wiped his nose and sat on the carpeted floor by your bed, “Quinn’s not home, he’s at a tournament with Mom.” He attempted to clarify why Quinn couldn’t stop, although you already knew because your brother was with them.

You frowned, “That’s not cool of him.” You quickly shot a text message to Jim saying Luke came over here to hang out, so nobody got worried. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, and you offered to make some Kraft mac and cheese. “Feel free to listen to music or something, love you.” You slipped out the door and went to make him some dinner.

Since you were little, you knew for certain that you’d always be there for him and now you knew you’d always look out for him, whenever he needed it. Even if one day he’d be more able to protect himself than you ever could, today you would refrain from marching over to the Hughes residence and getting in a physical fight with Jack.

march 2020

It was almost your eighteenth birthday, so you were visiting home to hang out with your parents, the Hughes’, and a few other hometown friends. You entered the front door to your house after catching up with your friend over coffee to see your parents and the Hughes’ bent over Luke and his laptop. “What’s up?” You question, hanging up your big, puffy jacket.

“We’re waiting for my UMich college acceptance letter, they sent them out today.” He said, nervously. You could tell by the shakiness of his voice.

You joined them at the table, “Don’t be silly, Lukey. You know that they’ve already expressed interest in you and your game.” He smiled a little as you ruffled his hair, and sat down at the chair to the right of him.

“I wish Jack and Quinn were here.” Luke sighed and scratched his head, “Jack promised he’d call, but I think he’s busy.”

You frowned for him, you knew how much closer he and Jack had become in the last few years, but they’d drifted again when Jack moved to New Jersey last year. A part of you wished Jack had gone to college and stayed closer, but you and Luke knew he was too good for the NHL to wait on. “I’m sure he’ll call soon, bub. Give it a little bit.”

After about twenty minutes of refreshing and chatting, the letter from the University of Michigan popped up. It was nerve-wracking. Luke had already been accepted into a few safety schools that wanted him on their hockey teams, but he really wanted to follow in Quinn’s footsteps and go to Michigan. Luke’s cursor hovered over the email for a few moments before clicking it, and to nobody’s surprise, it was an acceptance letter. Everybody cheered, but you seemed the most excited (besides Luke, of course.)

“Luke!” You squealed, hugging the boy from the side as tight as possible, “You did it!”

He hugged you back, “Thanks for supporting me, and letting me sleep on your floor.. and buying me food all the time.” He chuckled, “Couldn’t have done it without you, sissy.”

present day

It was Luke and Jack’s day off, as they had zero games scheduled for the next few days. You had come to visit them to watch a few games, and you were staying at their apartment. It wasn’t a rare occurrence that you came and watched their games, stayed in the guest bedroom of their Hoboken apartment, and hung out with their team and whatever WAGs were joining them. But today it was just you and Luke, chilling on the couch and watching ‘Elf’.

“Remember last November when we went to New York?” You recalled while watching Buddy run through the city. Luke turned the TV down and grinned.

He nodded, “Yeah, good times. And we ate so much chocolate that you almost threw up.”

“That wasn’t because of the chocolate,” you objected, “it was because you were making me laugh so hard my organs hurt.”

Luke snorted as he remembered the vacation and the hotel room you guys stayed in. It was a spontaneous trip on a week when he was injured to try and cheer him up. You guys sat all night judging random music albums and your boyfriend at the time. It was all just a part of a collection of memories you loved to revisit, a photo album in your head.

“God, I can’t believe how old we’re getting.” You said, a tone of sadness. “You used to fit on my shoulders, and now I think you might break them if I tried to give you another piggyback ride.” You laughed softly.

“I’m grateful that our moms raised us two houses down.” Luke threw a piece of popcorn at your face.

You threw it back, “I’m grateful I get to know you.” You stated, a smile gracing your features.

i’m right here. fall to me, to me. fill your head with sweet dreams, sweet dreams. you’d never hurt a thing, nothing. i hope you know to talk to me.

end

[bidoofenergy]

from my AU where Tango is a retired footballer (soccer player) turned sports commentator/interviewer and Jimmy is a popular footballer that’s desperately trying to seem Smart and Impress Tango part 1 | part 2

Someone is torturing Tango. That's the only possible explanation. He was a horrible terrible person in his past life or as a teenager or maybe even yesterday—that's the only reasonable explanation.

“I'm being tortured,” he whispers confidentially to Impulse. Impulse snorts and hastily covers with a coughing fit. It really isn't believable but Tango pats him on his back and waves off the few looks they get. Thankfully, everyone is focused on the front of the room—the source of his pain: Jimmy. 

If you really want to get into it, the real source of his pain is the changing media landscape around football, the way broadcast television has been forced to make room for social media and streaming services. Now the priority isn't just in-depth interviews with players; it's also about farming clips to put on Instagram or whatever. Usually, this doesn't bother Tango. Usually, he likes when his nieces send him viral posts of himself doing something goofy in an interview. Usually, he's not watching Jimmy Solidarity be adorable. 

Someone, probably a fan, has given Jimmy a soft hat, with a cute face stitched on and floppy bunny ears and long paws that hang around his shoulders. Every time Jimmy squeezes the paws, the ears stand up. It's adorable. It's obscene. It's killing him. 

In the front of the room, someone is asking Jimmy a long question that Tango cannot process. Jimmy frowns and tilts his head and halfway squeezes one paw so an ear perks up a little, giving him the perfect look of a confused puppy. A wave of muffled laughter spreads through the crowd and the poor reporter stutters in the middle of their question. Jimmy nods encouragingly, keeping his eyes fixed on the reporter. Tango feels a little sorry for them—and a lot like pushing his way forward to take their place. 

Not that he'd even be able to form a question if he gets called on. Tango had questions in mind before they started, a mix of the usual post-match bullshit and ones that’d make most players stumble, but now his mind is perfectly blank in a way it hasn't been since he was 13-years-old and discovering what being horny felt like. 

Back up front, Jimmy starts answering, eyes serious despite the ridiculousness of everything else. When he gestures he keeps ahold of the paws, like he can't bring himself to let go. Cute—but in a way that makes Tango sweat. 

Tango folds his arms. Readjusts his lean against the back wall. Covers his mouth with a hand and tries to frown in a thoughtful way. He’s not absorbing a word of this conference. The question might’ve been about youth teams? Or the transfer window? Or the standings so far? 

Or maybe Tango's being punished because he can't keep it together long enough to get through a post-match conference—the thing that makes up half of his career now. At least, not when there's an attractive 20-something sitting up front. This is far from the first time Tango has been rendered completely useless by Jimmy. That's probably why Impulse had decided to tag along today, why he has a notepad out though his scribbling doesn't hide his smirk. 

He'll take notes for Tango—but not warn him. Tango needs better friends. 

The next reporter has a question of the softball, clip-farming genre: “Where'd you get the hat?” 

“A fan!” Jimmy says excitedly and makes the ears stand straight up. “This kid, she tossed it to me while we were heading back inside.” Tango is a professional—he swallows the urge to coo. Around him, his peers fail, aww-ing as if on cue.

Jimmy grins, cocky and crooked. He's scanning the crowd and when he catches Tango's eye his smile grows. He squeezes the paws out of sync so his ears flop up and down one after the other. Tango swallows a second, even less professional, noise. 

Thankfully, for both Tango's heart and career, that was the last question. A manager reappears to shepherd Jimmy away and another to disperse the crowd of reporters. Impulse and Tango are close enough to the door to slide out almost immediately. In the hallway, Impulse finally lets out his laughter. Tango lets out a long groan, stopping and burying his face in his hands, letting everyone that files out after them jostle him around. 

“This is really great.” Impulse says brightly. 

Tango needs better friends. 

“Tango!” Jimmy calls across the noise. “Impulse!” When Jimmy Solidarity calls, you answer. They both turn. 

Tango raises a hand in greeting. He can't bring himself to move—he doesn't know if he can handle Jimmy like this up close. “Hey kid,” he calls back. 

“Good game today!” Impulse adds. 

Something in Jimmy's smile falters even as he draws close, moving through the crowd like he doesn't even notice how they all stop for him. Or his annoyed manager that he left behind. “Thanks,” he says to Impulse before turning to Tango. “You didn't have a question for me today!” 

“I did not.” Tango agrees. He absolutely cannot handle Jimmy this cute and this close to him. This wasn't the right answer because Jimmy frowns and looks even cuter. 

“I like your questions.” Jimmy says—a hilarious thing for him to say to Tango. 

“I don't think I ever liked anything the press asked me when I was playing.” Tango laughs. He glances at Impulse for backup, but Impulse is suddenly busy talking to another reporter Tango could've sworn he hated. 

“Maybe, it's about who's asking the questions.” Jimmy says and he's looking straight at Tango and his eyes are so big and so brown and Tango's brain is already sludge, from the day and the match and Jimmy, and Tango can't help but feel like maybe Jimmy might mean something, might be trying to say something with the careful way he's looking at Tango with his big beautiful brown eyes. 

Or maybe Tango is old and retired and a hot striker is looking down at him again. 

“Timmy!” Either way, Tango isn't figuring it out today. It's Grian yelling for Jimmy, of course, from next to their disgruntled-looking manager. Jimmy slumps, the way he usually does at the sound of Grian's nickname, and Tango can't help the pang of worry at the expression on his face. 

“Captain's calling,” Jimmy says with a sigh. He backs up a few steps. “See ya, Impulse,” he calls and somehow Impulse had conveniently ended his conversation in time to wave. “Bye Tango!” 

“See ya, Jimmy,” Tango waves and hopes he doesn't look as stupidly fond as he feels.

Jimmy doesn't wave; instead he flip-flops his ears one last time.

[emilylawsons]

Midnight Polivia Drabbles #1

“That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” she reiterates to him for probably the fifth time that night

The clock on the wall of the hospital room is ticking well past midnight. After hours of pacing back and forth and sitting in uncomfortable chairs, she’d made him scoot over and make room, nestling into the tiny bed next to him on his good side.

She should really call down and see if someone can get her a cot to sleep. She’s not sure she can simply go home tonight.

Peter, still doped up on pain meds, offers her a lazy grin and places his hand over hers on her thigh.

“We caught him, though,” he reminds her, a little too proudly.

He’s not a bit sorry. At least not yet.

Olivia sighs. Yes. Yes, they had caught their suspect. At the cost of a bullet that had barely missed his ribcage. All because he couldn’t let it go. He had to keep pursuing, even after Broyles had warned him to stand down.

She wants to be angry at him. She wants to hate him. They’d talked about this when he stepped up for training to a more active role at the Bureau. They’d made an agreement: no vigilante bullshit.

The problem is, she knows why he did it. She remembers the way she’d had to talk him down the first time they had the guy in custody, before they had any proof. Olivia had interrogated him, a smug son of a bitch with an answer for everything and a lawyer on speed dial. The asshole had put up a wall of defiance, disregarding her at every turn.

Peter had already sat tight, fists and jaw clenched the entire time, his own questions clipped and precise to stay professional.

Then the man dared to tip his head toward Olivia’s prominently round middle and ask, “So, how much longer are they holding out to keep you around without getting sued?”

That had Peter nearly knocking down his chair, sending it sliding halfway across the room. Olivia caught him just in time, before he could round the table and put his hands on the guy. He’d yelled and cursed at the man the entire way to the door as she’d escorted him out.

After that, she’d lost every bit of leverage she might have had. The suspect was let go on a technicality.

Days later, armed with proof and a warrant, they’d gone to arrest him. Peter had set out to make a point.

The call she’d received from Broyles while she waited back at the Bureau had sickened her stomach. She’d been out the door and on the way to the hospital before they could even hang up.

Hours later, here she is. Here they are.

Peter still doesn’t get it, but trying to reason with him right now is about as useful as reasoning with a two-year-old. So, she lies there for as long as they can both tolerate the cramped bed, listening to the beeping of his heart rate on the monitor.

Suddenly, she feels a stirring in her belly.

Olivia presses a hand to her bump to feel. This is the first time she’s moved in hours, and now she’s practicing for what Olivia can only assume will be her future career as a professional soccer player.

Peter, alert at her sudden change, shifts in the bed, wincing at his own movements. He doesn’t ask, and she doesn’t have to say anything.

She simply takes his hand and places it with hers over where their daughter is tucked away safely. The content, dopey smile that spreads across his lips is enough to solidify the impossibility of her being angry at him.

For several minutes, they lie there, simply feeling their little girl move and kick and make her life force known. A reminder of why they do what they do.

And why they don’t take unnecessarily life-threatening risks.

“That really was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done,” she repeats.

This time, Peter can only stare at where their hands are joined, half asleep but still contemplative.

He nods, lifting her hand to his lips.

“I know.”

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Babe! Congrats!

Look I couldn’t choose my fav!

Bradley and “I’ll never be good enough, will I?”

Cassie! This is your second request for my celebration. You know how the last one was super fluffy and cute and sweet? This one is decidedly none of those things. I hope you enjoy it! (You might want to keep a tissue box handy)

Smoke In The Air

"Dagger 2, up and ready." Your voice had been tense as you strapped in for your first mission with your new squadron.

The jolt of the catapult as it shot your jet into the sky? That was something you could handle. Flying in formation with your eyes peeled? You could handle that, too. A dogfight with a squadron of SU-57s hell-bent on bringing you down? You weren’t sure that even Top Gun had prepared you for that brand of chaos. The bright mid-day air is filled with a haze of smoke. The staccato hiss of flares deploying and the rattling wheeze of onboard machine guns make a frantic backdrop to the comms spilling into your ears from your squadron. 

“Dagger 1, defending!”

“Dagger 6, smoke in the air, 3 o'clock!”

Each set of clipped communications assures you that at least your squadron is faring the same as you are. And more importantly, that they’re all alive. Throughout the fighting, you’ve been pushed closer and closer toward the ocean. You’ve got two SU-57s dogging your every move, and things are not looking great. You’re out of flares and missiles, and you only have a hundred bullets left. It’s practically a disaster zone. And you can’t rely on any of your squadron members because they’ve all got their own battles they’re waging in the air. 

Was he right? He has to be. Why else are you the only member of the team who isn’t able to shape up? Phoenix would’ve been flying circles around these bozos. That’s the last thought in your mind as your jet blares with the signal for tone lock. You have only a few moments to grab your ESAT and hit the button to eject before you feel the rush and heat of your jet exploding near you. Shrapnel pierces the material of your parachute, and as you plummet to the ground, you’re thankful that at least nobody will miss you when you’re gone. It’s a thought only soundtracked by the screaming of the wind in your ears as you plummet to the ground.

You’d joined the Dagger Squadron in San Diego following Lieutenant Commander Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace’s announcement of her pregnancy. Admiral Simpson had hand-picked you to join the squadron after following your career in the year after you’d graduated from Top Gun. You’d been incredibly intimidated when you’d been introduced to the Daggers. They were all legends of their own making. And while you were good, you knew immediately that you were nowhere near their level.

“Wasp, huh?” As one of the pilots had loomed over you, you'd squeaked, the sound embarrassingly shrill. He’d smelled so good, cedar and spice enveloping you as you peered into his whiskey eyes. His mustache had bristled as he’d spit out,  “Well, you’re a little thing, but what makes you so sure you deserve a spot on this squadron? We’re the best of the best. I’m afraid we don’t have openings for kids fresh out of flight school or Top Gun.”

You’d bristled at that accusation and shot right back, “Well, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, at least I’m not so old that I can't learn all the new tricks they teach nowadays.”

“Fine, we’ll settle this in the air, kiddo.” He’d spat before wheeling away.

“Anytime, old man.” Had been your impertinent response.

The rivalry between you and Rooster had started that day. You knew he hated that you’d taken the position of a friend on the squadron. He hated that you weren’t flying with Bob, and he hated that you could fly circles (sometimes) around them all. But above all, you know he hated that Lieutenant Commanders Seresin and Floyd had taken a shine to you, the two pilots closest to Lieutenant Commander Trace. It got some attention, you and Rooster. Mav had pulled you aside one day after a training exercise and told you to chill the animosity. That had worked for about 48 hours. Hangman had suggested at one point that you should fuck the older man to get it out of your system. You’d snorted in derision and turned around, only to walk right into Bradshaw. 

His glare had cut you to the bone, and you knew you’d just burned any bridges you could’ve had with this squadron. Push comes to shove, they’d pick Bradshaw. Hands down. It was lore in the Navy. It had been since they'd done the impossible during the Uranium Mission. The Dagger Squad was the best of the best. Their leader? Their heart? That was Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw. You get on his bad side, and your career is as good as dead. You could feel the reaper standing over you every day of training after that, and then as you lined up for the mission briefing, you felt the chill of the reaper’s blade across your neck.

What an omen for the mission to come. 

You wake up half-buried in a mossy log. The scent of petrichor and greenery surrounds you. It’s a relief to know that despite everything else, at least your brain and your nose still work. But everything aches. Your ribs and right thigh scream as you push yourself upright. All you can see around you are trees. You’re safe. Mostly. But your heart’s in your throat. You went down. You left your squadron with one less defender and one less protector. And you don’t know if you’ll be able to get to safety. Even now, you can hear the battle happening in the skies and, far worse, boots tromping through the brush, looking for something. 

You slither into a hunched position behind what's left of the log and pray that whoever it is isn't the enemy. Every breath hurts, your expanding lungs sending pain lancing through your system. Black spots cover your vision as you crane your neck to see who it is. Your mouth falls slack as you see Bradley Bradshaw marching over to you.

His eyes light up when they see you, half hunched as you are. "Wasp! There you are. I saw you go down. I was just able to report your last known location when I got shot down too." 

You open your mouth, trying and failing to say a word, when Bradley carefully props you up and begins running through a cursory examination. His eyes are worried and dark when he sees the shrapnel buried in your thigh, though he keeps his mouth shut and hands you a canteen of water. You're hesitant to accept it initially, though you're forced to drink when he presses it against your lips. You'd forgotten how thirsty you were.

"Roost'r" You're breathing heavily as you tug on the sleeve of his flight suit. "Ever'ne okay?"

"Yeah, all good. We took down the SU-57s. The others are completing the mission. Mav'll send out S&R once they're back." His hands are gentle as he carefully tests the metal in your thigh. "M'gonna pull this out so we can get you bandaged up, ok? It's going to hurt. Can you be strong for me, Bug?"

"Yes," you screw your eyes shut, sticking your hands over your mouth and bracing yourself as Bradley carefully yanks the metal. Inch by inch, he pulls, and you can feel the burning ache radiate through you. You're sobbing, biting into the back of your hand to keep anyone from hearing you. You can't feel anything other than the waves of pain and your blood rushing past your ears as you stay still as a statue until Bradley carefully tugs your hand from your mouth. He’s wrapped a bandage around your thigh, but you can see blood soak the bindings with each breath you take.

"C'mon. I scoped out this abandoned cabin. Both our ESATs are running strong. The best thing to do would be to get to shelter." He's got your hand securely wrapped in his own as he carefully helps leverage you up. That's when your ribs make themselves known. 

"Rooster. My ribs. They hurt a lot. I must have a few broken. M'not sure I can walk." Your face is grim, expecting him to scold you or call you useless or any of the other things you're sure he knows are true about you. 

"That's okay, Bug. C'mere. I'm going to carry you. And we'll get you laid down so we can take a look, okay?" He positions you until you're facing him. His hands are gentle as he slips his arms around your knees and carefully picks you up. Each move aches, but when you're braced against his chest, all you can smell is the cedar and spice of his cologne.

Bradley keeps up a steady chatter, carefully checking on you every once in a while. The two of you have been walking for nearly an hour. You're mostly silent, humming on occasion in reply as you stay fixated on the pale scar on his cheek. 

Your voice shocks you when you finally speak, "I'll never be good enough, will I?"

"Hmm? What's that, Bug?" You can hear the confusion in his voice as he tries to figure out what you're saying. "I can see the cabin now. We'll be safe and sound soon. I promise."

You hear the creak as he pushes the door open and carefully sets you down on the dusty bed in the corner. 

"Now, what were you saying, Bug?"

"I said, I'll never be good enough for you, will I? It's obvious, I know. I'm not Phoenix. I'm just the dumb baby that you got stuck babysitting. I don't belong in this squadron. Why'd you come looking for me? God." Your voice is a wheezing chuckle as you try and fail to catch your breath. You can feel your spit dribbling out with each choking breath. "I bet you're going to tell them it was my fault you got shot down. That I don't deserve to be a part of the Navy anymore, forget flying."

You're looking right into his eyes as you spit the words out. You're not expecting something that looks an awful lot like worry to slide over his face. His hands are gentle as they cup your cheek, thumb tender against your bottom lip.

"You're going to be okay, Bug. You're hurt and scared. I know you are, I am too. We're going to get you home, get you to a hospital, and you're going to be flying again in no time." When Bradley pulls his fingers away, you're not surprised to see blood-tinged spit coating the calloused digits. A sudden surge of surety hits you at the sight.

"You and I both know that's not gonna happen, Roo. I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to show you I had your back." Each breath aches a bit less than the one before it. You're not coming home from this. You know it. "Was too stupid. M'sorry, Roo. Tell Jake and Bob thank you for me? And wish Phoenix luck w'the baby? Hangy's gonna be a great dad." 

You'd never suspected that Bradley Bradshaw would cry over you. A tear tracks down his cheek, the one with the scar you'd been so fascinated with while he brought you here. "What're you saying, Bug? You're going to be just fine. Two months max, and we'll have you flying circles around me again."

"I'd like that, Roo." You cup his jaw, dragging him in until you can feel the hot splash of his tears against your neck. His arms are wrapped around your waist as he cradles you against his chest. "I hope that'll happen. You're going to be a great Commander and Captain, Roo." He's crying in earnest, his sobs racking his shoulders as he holds you close as tightly as he dares. You can't help the hitch in your own breath as you try and fail to keep your tears at bay. "I don't have anybody waiting at home. The Navy's my home. So when you bring me home, will you put my body someplace where I can watch the flowers grow? I just want to see the flowers grow, Roo. Please?"

"Yeah, Bug, I can do that. Any other requests?" His nose is stuffed, and his voice is hoarse as he pulls back so he can see your eyes.

"Kiss me?" Your voice is barely a whisper. "I just want to be loved when I die." You can see the shock in his eyes at your final request.

"Yeah, sweetheart." His lips press gently to yours as he cradles you close. Nothing hurts anymore as you bury your fingers in his curls. You can feel everything fade as your eyes flutter closed.

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[n7punk]

"City of Angels" Fic Notes

CoA is done! This was a fun little ride. It ended up a bit longer than I predicted but this is the first fic in a while that didn’t become a runaway so I’ll take that. Actually nvm I just checked and I predicted this fic would be 15k. Oops. The share link will be up later tonight, but for now, here’s the fic notes!

Playlist:

My playlist for this one was less emotional stuff and more “LA sucks” songs, so it’s shorter, but honestly it worked really well. For me, a playlist is something that either 1) helps with the mood/ideas while I’m writing or 2) something that makes me WANT to write when I hear it because I tie it to those ideas, so the LA songs actually worked really well even where they were less relevant. The emotional songs are all centered around the breakup/conflict at the beginning, but the playlist still worked.

City of Angels — Em Beihold.

LA — The Veronicas.

Arizona Pretty — Kailee Morgue.

The Very First Night — Taylor Swift.

Strangers — FLETCHER.

I’m Not Mad — Halsey.

Good Idea At The Time — The Wombats.

MODERATION — Lilyisthatyou. (I’ll be honest I think I added this when I was writing the club scenes as, like, the kind of background music they would be hearing to get in that mood because it’s not relevant to the rest of the fic, but it is a banger lmao)

Epilogue Life:

For a while, Adora and Catra are infuriatingly vague to the press about each other. They’ll go to events together and act like a couple, telling stories and clearly knowing each other well, but they just get all mysterious when asked questions. Eventually, after many months of dating, they’re a bit more willing to talk about their relationship. At that point they confirm that they are dating and later admit that they went to the same acting school, having known each other since they were kids. It takes a long time — “coincidentally” shortly after Catra’s career really solidifies her as someone to watch for years to come — before it comes out that they were foster kids with the same guardian who trained them in acting. They basically just say “yeah, she was our teacher so it was kind of like being in class 24/7” and don’t comment on it further. They (well, Catra at least) would love to dig into Weaver, but saying anything bad about Weaver is basically signing a ticket to have her try to sell every one of their secrets she knows. The closest they get is when someone bothers Catra about the “mutual guardian” thing with her then-fiancée and she basically snaps “that was not a family, that was a boarding school. We were not her children or siblings” and the clip ends up online. Mysteriously, they never hear anything from Weaver in retribution, but DT soon after stops having a favor owed to them at two different tabloids.

Adora and Catra both settle into each other’s places and lives. They keep calling their places “Catra’s apartment” and “Adora’s house” for a long time because each is definitely more owned by one of them (both legally and practically), but in daily life it really has morphed into the apartment in the city and the private house passed the edges of town. Their relationship rekindles beyond where it used to be and, despite them never really publicly “clarifying” their relationship once they’re on the same page about being traditional girlfriends, everybody treats them as a couple up until the point where they get married and become wives instead.

For a while Adora remains more famous/ubiquitous than Catra, but her career peters down over time while Catra diversifies and has such a range she becomes one of the go-to magicats in Hollywood. Adora is very happy with her moderate success and wildly successful wife, though. I don’t remember if I kept the “joke speculation” about this in the fic, but eventually Adora leaves show business to direct a small children’s theater group with the love and warmth she was missing in her own education. She loves it. She loves working with the kids, she loves the low stakes of community plays, and — as referenced in the fic — she loves stage acting.

Catra keeps up in Hollywood all the way until she’s a gray fox, always attending her award shows with her wife on her arm, which is pretty much the only time Adora steps back into the limelight. Adora had her fun, but her own mental health does better in her new career path. It barely pays, but that’s what Catra and Adora’s old investments/savings are for. Occasionally one of her kids really goes down the Hollywood path and Adora does a little networking for them.

Chapter 1:

⦁ Neck kissing is enough of a thing for Adora that it was a total red flag that it wasn’t doing it for her and I find that hilarious.

⦁ Catra’s reputation for calling shit out really bit her as soon as the public picked up on her interaction with Adora. The theory Adora was secretly racist was slowly gaining some traction within Catra’s fanbase, as well as outside of it when that seemed more scandalous — ie, profitable to talk about — to gossipers/tabloids. Catra had been avoiding Adora for years as she built herself up, but when that started spreading, she reached out for Adora’s sake as much as hers. Being friends with some of Adora’s friends, all the stories she has heard seemed to show Adora as she remembered her and not some egomonster twisted by fame, but even starting to wonder if the Adora she loved still existed and their relationship could be repaired, she stayed away until she had a name of her own to stand on. Partly because of pride and partly, yes, because of the stupid superstition.

⦁ Catra was really trying to puff herself up for the encounter, scared of Adora getting under her skin again, but the end of it really threw her off. She made the dig about Adora’s talent and realized — at least a bit — how much it hurt from the way she retreated, and then Adora backed down which she doesn’t do, and then she said she missed her and left. It was the first step to Catra really starting to consider her again.

⦁ When I went to write the first chapter end note, I realized you could easily consider DITM, ASGNE, and SaD “celebrity” fics, not to mention stuff like 5GR that brushes up against fame in some other way, or even SLAS with the socialite aspect. I only really consider DITM and maybe ASGNE celebrity AUs, though, with the others just dealing with some level of fame or notoriety in their specific area (cosplay, sports, etc).

⦁ I was supposed to do a whole fic extra about this, but I didn’t, so I’m just going to whack it up as a block of text here regarding Adora’s reputation and public perception: Adora came out of nowhere and played a kind of a-typical character to be the lead of an action series. She was so similar to her character and dorky in interviews that she immediately grew a very attached fanbase. You know that gif of Jennifer Lawrence looking at Anne Hatheway at the Oscars “like she’s a unicorn” because she’s fangirling herself that everybody reblogged back in 2014 or whatever? Yeah, that exact gif exists of Adora and was kind of the vibe that inspired her public perception here. That and the girl who played April Ludgate saying weird shit in interviews. Adora seems ~quirky and relatable and down to Earth~ (AKA doesn’t know how to cultivate a public personality or censor herself) so she gets a lot of fans pretty quickly. She has this cocky thing that works for lesbians and this “girl next door” vibe that works on everybody else, so she keeps getting “typecast” in those roles because that’s what everyone wants to see her in and her fans will follow her from movie to movie without hesitation when those similarities are there. Of course, the truth is taking on a totally different character is difficult for her, but between auditions for other stuff not working out and more of that fair calling for her, she has been legitimately typecast at this point. She’s way too honest in interviews and it works out for her. Everybody feels connected to her despite how there are sides of herself — the fragile ones — she never lets anyone see, and she’s a household name with her face synonymous with an entire franchise.

Chapter 2:

⦁ Perfuma was there to make sure they didn’t end up hooking up in the bathroom as much as she was standing guard, it’s just that no one ever said that to Adora. Perfuma was supportive of them reconciling now she was getting to know Catra better, but she thought that just might be counterproductive to it.

Chapter 3:

⦁ Catra knew there was a chance of them meeting at the party since she closely associates Randor’s name with Adora. She assumed Adora wouldn’t happen to be on the other side of the country to come to the party, but it was in the back of her mind as a possibility, so she wasn’t that surprised when Adora showed up. Mostly she was grateful for someone she could seem like she was engaging with socially while really she could just relax.

⦁ I rarely put Catra in skirts but in this case it was insurance to make sure her tuck never showed or anything.

⦁ Imitation is part of my larger universe of fics, with it being one of Catra’s movies that she won an Oscar for in DITM. Gunmetal was one of her movies in that fic, and later one of Sea Hawk’s in ASGNE (he was also in it in DITM), and in this fic it’s the third of Adora’s trilogy of movies.

⦁ Catra’s name being “Beth” in her breakout role is once again a reference to the “her real name is Elizabeth” joke from crew.

⦁ Alright the premise of Adora’s breakout trilogy is basically you have a classic action guy who’s secretly a spy and he’s in love with his next-door-neighbor (Adora) who he greets in the hallway every morning. And then in the first ten minutes of the movie he goes missing, and Adora accidentally witnesses suspicious activity at his place and then he never comes out to greet her in the mornings anymore and it starts her down this track of investigating for herself and finding his secret spy gear and going on a mission to rescue him without any knowledge of the spy organization he actually worked for. The whole movie there’s this assumption by the audience that she loves him back and that’s why she’s going to these lengths. She talks with another character about how they’ve known each other since high school and you think oh when she rescues him there will be a confession, and then she does rescue him and, when he’s finally in the movie again after an hour and 42 minutes (at no point was he shown before that so the viewer is just as unsure as Adora whether he’s still alive), it’s revealed she was his babysitter back in the day (she’s a few years older) and she sees him like a younger brother and has no connection to him like that, on top of being a lesbian with a girlfriend he didn’t know about because it turns out he really didn’t know that much about her at all having only had some conversations with her in the hall after they happened to move into the same building after going to different colleges. It’s partially a joke and partially a commentary, although not as progressive as it’s going for considering they casted a 20-year-old for the female lead and an almost 30-year-old for the male despite him supposedly being younger because in Hollywood women HAVE to be young and attractive. It does solidify Adora’s character though, because she went through all of this just for a guy she once knew as a sweet kid and that she was worried about. The sequels are set up by his spy agency inviting her to join them at the end of the first movie since she proved herself by rescuing one of their own. It’s a good button on the end of a single movie and was also a great setup for sequels when they were greenlit. The last two movies have an overarching story connection with the agency turning out to be corrupt and his capture was an inside job, though they can be viewed individually. He’s, once again, barely in the movies and has been demoted to deskwork (which does end up giving him a critical moment where he witnesses something at the office that blows the corruption open, so he’s still important but not the focus). Adora’s struggles with balancing her secret life with her girlfriend are a sideplot in the sequel and in part III they’ve broken up due to Adora being a shitty girlfriend (big oof, Superzero parallel there but it also hit too close to home for in-universe Adora) and she’s gets a new love interest in the form of a sidekick. At the end they basically found their own agency together after taking down her old one. Lesbians love the power dream. In the first movie (and in later movies, but especially at first where she isn’t a part of this world) the character Adora is playing is basically… herself, but with action hero skills, which is why she was cast, because basically as soon as the team saw her audition they were like. That’s the girl. That’s who we’re trying to get someone to play and that just is her. The movie ended up being successful enough that it spawned a graphic novel followed by a comic book series which ran for years and kind of went off the rails into cloning and shit. Typical comic weirdness tbh, but the technology in the comic is noticeably more futuristic (and impossible) than that in the movies. It’s almost like the comics are set 60 years later.

⦁ Catra started blockers and hormones younger than… like 99% of trans people. Part of there being less transphobia means it’s easier to realize your identity and a Lot easier to get access to healthcare, so her natural voice isn’t deep or anything, but when Adora talks about it getting rough that’s Catra letting go of the training she has done to keep it controlled, not just in pitch, but also in cadence.

Chapter 4:

⦁ The tabloid website description is based off my (likely inaccurate) memories of the one time I stumbled into an article on the extremely trashy Perez Hilton gossip magazine website. My memories of it are that they were being truly disgusting about how a like, 16 year old Disney actress was dressed.

⦁ Being that this is a transphobia lite AU, name/gender change process stuff is better and more effective. Catra got her birth certificate and everything updated at a very young age, so unless someone wanted to dig specifically into name change orders from the county she grew up in the year she did it, it would be very hard to find out she used to have a different legal name or gender.

Chapter 5:

⦁ There’s a lot of talk about Catra being “more” talented, and while it’s right, it’s relative. Adora wasn’t cut out to be a great actress. She has honed the skill until she was capable of doing it, but Catra is more naturally inclined towards it and, having had just as much time to hone her skill, is still better. That doesn’t make Adora untalented, it just means she’s not naturally inclined to acting and she was set up to a losing game when Weaver made sure that was the measure by which she valued them and taught them to value themselves. Of course, Weaver still views Catra as mediocre (because she “doesn’t apply herself” and “surfs on talent without honing her skill”) and she views Adora as having the dedication, making her more favorable, but not having enough because otherwise she would perform better than the “lazy” Catra. She also just views Adora more favorably because 1) she does well at stage-acting, an art Weaver’s shitty intellectualism views as superior (in the way that people writing Adora’s biographies in twenty years will say she was even greater than anyone ever knew because she was a good stage actress too), and 2) talent or not, Adora got more roles, and more results meant she was clearly better. Whatever Adora’s technical faults, Catra’s sour attitude was clearly holding her back. If Catra would “just change” then she could finally live up to her potential, and thus she must be personally spiting Weaver by holding back. Weaver’s view of the world is very self-centered.

⦁ Part of the reason Catra said “never again” despite liking the dance was the possibility of them being seen. It would be easy for the tabloids to paint her as a toy or somehow to diminish her worth with it. The rest was that while it was hot, it could become problematic behavior if it were in a pattern — and maybe behavior in line with the selfish, attention-hungry version of Adora she built up in her head when they broke up.

Chapter 6:

⦁ Catra sends Adora that smile after mentioning sleeping in a limo because she’s thinking about how they almost hooked up in the car, it just kind of went over Adora’s head.

⦁ Alright, hybrids and makeup. So far mentions of Catra’s makeup in others’ fics where she’s “supposed” to be human are the number one immersion breaker for me in those (because I just imagine Catra as a magicat regardless) but I do think hybrids could/would wear it. It varies by species obviously (lizardfolk essentially have scale paint they can wear and claw polish/strains, but nothing else that looks traditional beauty products), but a lot of the hybrids could wear some level of the typical stuff. There’s kind of three camps on Catra’s appearance (full fluff, general fluff but not on some places like faces and hands, or no fur just skin). Obviously in the third she can wear all regular beauty products, but it’s noncanonical and not my usual interpretation. I guess I’m somewhere in between them, but either way the skin just around her eyes could probably take fairly traditional products, and she could wear things like blush if there were a special style of product for it that doesn’t exist in our world to accommodate fluffy cheeks. As such, I think wearing lipstick or eyeliner isn’t out of the question for Catra ever, but things like eye shadow and blush get more iffy depending on your interpretation, and foundation is pretty far out there. All that “possible hybrid products” stuff established, Perfuma’s line has a lot of stuff like that included and that’s part of why Catra was talking about the differences in formula for their different kinds of skin. And if you always picture her hairless then I suppose she was just talking about the colors on different skintones to you.

⦁ I had a whole thing I cut out from this chapter about how Catra transitioned under Weaver but I deleted it for the transphobia. I’m going to cover it here, but like, trigger warning. Basically, context matters a lot, so stuff that’s just problematic for reasons unrelated to transphobia in their world is awful in ours. With it being socially acceptable, Weaver didn’t have a lot of reason to say no to Catra’s transition other than it being expensive, which led to things like Catra borrowing Adora’s clothes until she had outgrown the ones she already had and Weaver would let her buy new ones from the right department now she had to spend the money anyway (did they look much different than the ones she already had since neither of them are super femme? No. Did they feel better? Yes). Adora mentions Catra doing HRT young, which was absolutely what Catra wanted, but the part I cut out was that this was one of her few choices that Weaver fully supported her in. Support is kind of a bad word, though, because the reason she approved was she thought that Catra needed to transition as early as possible if she was going to do it because otherwise she might not fit beauty standards and not get any parts. Growing up ugly might as well be every pageant mom’s worst fear and has little to do with gender in-universe, but IRL this is just horrible. There’s so many people who have thought that they couldn’t/shouldn’t transition because it was “too late” and I didn’t want to include anything like it in the fic. I’m only including it here because I’ve previously thought about how controlling Weaver would be in a situation where either of them transitions (in AUs or canon) so I had to think about what would lead her to supporting it and keeping it “a secret” in this AU over the years of Catra’s fame. At this point revealing Catra is trans wouldn’t gain Weaver anything other than making Catra uncomfortable about strangers knowing her deadname or just thinking about her genitals at all (I’ll never forget that Laverne Cox interview where the interviewer thought for some reason they could/should ask about if she had bottom surgery and she just had to laugh it off and say “I’m very happy with the situation down there” without clarifying).

⦁ Regarding timing, my trans headcanons for them fall in line with my sexuality headcanons for them. Catra knows and falls young, but Adora takes a lot longer and might need a big push. In the case of transitioning, Catra realizes very young she’s a girl and is insistent on the fact no matter what others try to tell her. Adora tries to push through it and doesn’t understand why she can’t live up to macho standards or whatever (or never feels like she is, anyway) until eventually enough shit piles on and the realization breaks that she never wanted that set of standards anyway. She would absolutely be the one to be like “Well I’m just Aware™️ of toxic masculinity because I listen to my female friends so much and that’s why everything feels wrong, no need to question the masculine part tho!” with her blinders on full force.

Chapter 7:

⦁ Adora is continually baffled by Catra’s ability to not measure things or use a recipe.

⦁ Entrapta is primarily a VFX and CGI artist in this verse but not a force on Earth could stop her from hacking sometimes.

⦁ Part of the reason Catra wanted the site down was for Adora’s sake. She knows the joke bothers her too.

⦁ Chapters 5, 6, and 7 are interesting because they all contain a scene that was originally in one of the others. They saw a lot of rearranging, which is the main reason I took three days before posting chapters 4 and 5 as I got 5/6/7 settled. I’m ordering this by how things originally started and putting where they ended up in parenthesis. Originally, Chapter 5 had the morning after scene (CH5), an Instagram scene (deleted, I’ll explain in a sec), the the aquarium scene (CH6), photoshoot scene (CH6), and the confession scene (CH6). Then the fic rolled right into the final chapter, 6, with the talk show (CH7) and Clawdeen scenes (CH7). More stuff from the final epilogue was planned to come after but by then I had new ideas and ended up inserting two new chapters to accommodate them. The cut “Instagram” scene featured Adora seeing Catra with the Star siblings on Jewel’s Instagram story and wondering about where things stood with her and Tali. She tried to focus on her shoot, but that night Catra texted her for a booty call and Adora accepted. It gave Adora some confidence that Catra was coming to her when Tali was more convenient, but she also didn’t know if Catra had just struck out. The truth was that being around someone she used to hook up with got Catra thinking down those lines again (horny) so she called Adora up. This felt like too early or them to hook up again, though, and writing that scene got me thinking about the dynamic between all three of them, which gave me the idea for the club dance scenes. When I initially wrote them, they opened chapter 6 following the confession scene and were really different. It didn’t fit with them already being “official,” even if it was casual. I didn’t want to have two scenes centered around the Tali thing either since it really wasn’t a big deal in their lives, so I cut the earlier Instagram scene in favor of the dancing and moved it to before the confession by moving the photoshoot and confession back to chapter 6. I also wrote the scene in Catra’s kitchen at that time (originally opening CH6) but moved it back because (conversely) it didn’t fit with them not being together yet. That’s when Chapter 6 took it’s final form in the fic. I changed the concept of Chapter 7 to go from “wrap up/epilogue” to “public interacting with their relationship” with epilogue following in Chapter 8. I moved the kitchen scene in to 7 and paired it with the talk show and Clawdeen scenes for the final version in the fic. Whenever I moved a scene, it needed rewriting to fit within the tone of their relationship in its new place in the timeline, but sometimes that was the entire reason I moved scenes. The club/dance scenes did not feel like they took place when their relationship was confirmed, so I moved them back to before it. The scene in Catra’s kitchen didn’t feel like it took place before they were confirmed because Adora should have been freaking out about the implications of people thinking they were dating a lot more, so I moved it after. All these moves still required tweaks, but I think everything flows way better where it is now and the chapters (5, 6, 7, and 8) are all decent lengths rather than the final two chapters turning out to be behemoths. After writing this note, I realized I had to go back and rearrange bullet points in my fic notes too since the relevant scenes had moved LOL

Chapter 8:

⦁ The reason Adora’s house is so far out is because that’s what it takes to get a quiet neighborhood where no one will rat her out to the press. Some of her neighbors recognize her, but so far everyone has been chill.

⦁ I’m putting it here because I kept waiting to squeeze it into the fic and I never did so this is my last chance: Weaver’s “backstory” in this is that she wanted to be a Hollywood star and thought she had gotten her big break when she was cast in a soap opera that showed promise. Season one was so bad it crashed hard and almost sabotaged the careers of anyone associated it. Still, hate watching numbers are still numbers, so it came back for a second season that had such low viewership numbers (since it wasn’t even interesting enough for hate watching really and that kind of thing always has a limit) that it was canceled halfway through and the rest of the filmed episodes never aired. Weaver pretty much never got cast in anything again. When she started to age, she “accepted” it was over since Hollywood likes young and beautiful women. She became an acting teacher, and after one of the children from her first set of classes went on to get a successful role, Weaver saw the dollar signs and the chance to maybe grasp at a fraction of the fame she wanted. She decided to foster two potential cash cows and try to raise them up with her as their stage manager so she can directly attribute their success to her (this was as important to her from a personal vindication standpoint as it was a financial one) and finally say that she clearly had what it took to make it in Hollywood since she could steer others through it, she just got unlucky guys :(

⦁ Before I wrote anything for this AU I predicted it would be 5 chapters and 15k, but by the time I went to post it that... was obviously wrong and I said 6 chapters at 30k. It ended up at 38k and honestly at this point I'm calling that win with my history.

⦁ Okay this AU. is interesting. Normally I would put an “Original Outline” at the end of the chapter summary but this one is really brief so I’m just tacking it onto Chapter 8. The idea for this AU came when I was listening to City Of Angels and went “the Catradora vibes are so here,” so I put it on my possible AUs list as just “City of Angels AU” and moved on, waiting for that idea to catch. A few months later (back in February or March probably?) I randomly got the idea for — essentially — chapter 4. I outlined the award show scene with the stupid golden touch joke, them talking on their date (though when I outlined it the conversation had no context) and then them in the car and going home together after “some party.” I had other fics at the time that I was working on, so it had to wait in line, but it was really stupid and fun. I didn’t have much overarching planning ahead of time, so there’s not much to go over other than stuff like the changes around Chapter 5, 6, and 7, but I will say the old plan was for the stuff I labeled as CH5 to, well, be in chapter 5 and then the final chapter would be  award show stuff and them at a party together. As I was writing I watched Eddy Burbank’s video on the death of late night TV and added the interview scene (I find those a lot of fun anyway so it was kind of glaring that one was missing in hindsight) and then the Clawdeen scene just kind of happened and led to other changes. The final scene of the fic was outlined before all the major changes that added two more chapters, but it just added to the roster of scenes that required the buffing out.

Upcoming:

So. Here’s the thing. I kind of promised I wouldn’t do something a long time ago and like, I’ve dabbled adjacent to it, but now we’re. we’re just doing the damn thing. So the next AU is called Trade Today For Tomorrow. And it’s going to be up like, in the next day or two probably. Because I’m insane. I wrote over 7000 words in one day. Actually I did something similar for this project, I had like two 6k~ days. I’m in my unhinged era.

[rythmicjea]

Hobbyism is the best way to get through grief. ~Cole Sprouse

NEW FIC BACKSTORY

Okay... so... This is an odd one (and a long one). This is kind of representative of my current "chaos era". It's a bit of a story and I put most of it in the A/N. But this was not a story I was ever intending to write. In fact, I am not part of the fandom (scandalous I know), and better yet, I had no idea that the show even existed until this past November... But apparently it was big! My excuse is that I was not of the demographic for it age wise. I think if it's age appropriate, anyone can watch anything. Rock on, man.

The backstory of this goes, I found out that my baby boy (cat) Jayne, had advanced kidney disease. For a brief and shining moment, I thought that he would beat the odds. Unfortunately, he was gone within two weeks. I held him as he passed. I have a little altar to him on my desk because he will never be forgotten. But, in my grief, I knew I needed to find an outlet. While I can't journal write (I absolutely hate it lol) I can tell stories. And I wanted to write something very dark and nihilistic that basically combined Peaky Blinders with Riverdale (Chaos Era).

So while I was falling down the Jeronica rabbit hole, I was gathering playlists and mashup videos to aid in my inspiration. But, the story refuse to appear. Instead, YouTube kept suggesting clips from a show I had never heard of. And the clips were OLD. Like from over 10 years ago. Though I said I was uninterested the recs kept coming. So I did ONE google search. I read ONE synopsis. I saw a cast list and I saw a timeline of a relationship. I thought that was all I needed. My brain said NOPE!

The timeline of this relationship ended every entry with "and they hugged". I was very confused about why this couple was only hugging. Then when I saw that the last episode was graduation I got a little more incensed. I had two puzzle pieces that didn't connect without a third. So, I asked around. I have friends that were of the age demographic at the time this was on. And every one of them said that 1.) they loved the show and 2.) It was a very Disney show. Now, there were some sporadic kisses here and there but I remember being that age in high school and while I wasn't some "light BDSM scene on the second time I ever had sex" (Looking at you Bughead in Riverdale...) I definitely did more than just hug my high school boyfriend.

Even though I wasn't satisfied with the answer I thought that was the end of it. My brain had other ideas. My brain told me that if I didn't write this story then I would never write again. Well. That's death to a creative type like me. While I never wrote every day or even put out stories consistently, I was still crafting stories in my head. I needed to be able to write. I was in a desperate state. So I thought "fine, I'll write 3000 words, delete it, and then write what I want."

I wrote 10,000 words in one sitting.

I wrote 50,000 words in 18 days.

I didn't watch the show until I was like 80% done with the fic.

It currently stands over 100,000 words.

If you've made it this far you're going "WHAT IS THE STORY?!"

Okay, I'll tell you. It turns out I was being recommended the clips because of an actor. This actor is Cole Sprouse. I knew him mostly as Ben Geller from Friends. I didn't know he had an actual career before Riverdale. I just thought he did something as a kid, and then came back after college. I was so wrong... So so so so so wrong...

If you guessed The Suite Life of Zack and Cody and The Suite Life on Deck you would be correct.

This massive story started as a way to explain why Cody and Bailey "only hugged". Turned into a love story. I made Zack not straight and married to a man with identical twin girls. London is a pediatric surgeon (and I still stand by that decision knowing what I know now). And Cody and Bailey are probably the least likable characters in the entire thing but they are relatable. This is a story of trying to find love after you discover the amount of abuse you went through. Why running from things is not ideal. And maybe, even when you live an outlandish life, there's some normalcy to discover. It's kind of dark, but there's a lot of humor. If you're not familiar with the show, I would just think of it as an original work. (I know, I know... certain death for a fanfic writer lol)

If you enjoy it, please drop a kudos and my comments section is open and I welcome kind and constructive criticism and questions. Like, fuck me up with questions. Please.

[tomorrowusa]

This POLITICO article is from 2019. But little mentioned in its content has substantively changed since then except that Trump is out of office.

There are few things less real than so called "reality shows". And Trump's Apprentice shows were even less real than most of that genre.

A lot of Trump supporters are unaware that he is a nepo baby who was known mostly as a self-promoting publicity hound who suffered a string of business failures and bankruptcies prior to making it big with the Apprentice.

Who is Donald Trump? Ask Americans and many of them will describe a self-made billionaire, a business tycoon of unfathomable success. In research recently published in Political Behavior, we found that voters are not simply uninformed about President Trump’s biographical background, but misinformed—and that misinformation has serious political consequences. Large swaths of the public believe the Trump myth. Across three surveys of eligible voters from 2016 to 2018, we found that as many as half of all Americans do not know that he was born into a very wealthy family. And while Americans are divided along party lines in their assessment of Trump’s performance as president, misperceptions regarding his financial background are found among Democrats and Republicans. The narrative of Trump as self-made is simply false. Throughout his life, the president has downplayed the role his father, real estate developer Fred Trump, played in his success, claiming it was “limited to a small loan of $1 million.” That isn’t true, of course: A comprehensive New York Times investigation last year estimated that over the course of his lifetime, the younger Trump received more than $413 million in today’s dollars from his father. While this exact figure was not known before the Times’ report, it was a matter of record that by the mid-1980s, Trump had been loaned at least $14 million by his father, was loaned at least $3.5 million more in 1990, had borrowed several more million against his inheritance in the 1990s after many of his ventures failed, and had benefited enormously from his father’s political connections and co-signing on loans early in his career as a builder.

Yep, The Donald was a rich kid who spent his dad's money rather poorly. While his father Fred was despicable in his own right, at least HE really did have a successful real estate empire.

When people do discover the true story behind Trump, attitudes about him are changed in a statistically noticeable way.

On perceptions of business acumen, which are higher across both parties, the information regarding Fred Trump’s role in his son’s business success is equally important. Democrats reduce their perceptions of Trump as a good businessman by 6 points, while Republican perceptions decline by 9 points.

And the producers of the Apprentice series had to do a lot of work just to keep up Trump's image.

Apprentice Producers Struggled to Make Trump—and His Decisions—Seem Coherent

The producers were the real (evil) geniuses of the series – not Trump.

Putting the series together was incredibly time consuming. According to journalist Patrick Radden Keefe in the MSNBC clip below, they would have to shoot 300 hours of footage for every 1 hour they actually aired. That is some serious editing for a "reality" show.

Mark Burnett was the metaphorical man behind the curtain pulling the levers of Trump's business image.

In close contests, it takes only a small percentage of votes to change an electoral outcome. The reality about Trump's business image is an additional tool we can use to gnaw away at his vote totals.

[inkribbon796]

Egotober 2023 Day 6: Like Children Again

Summary: Every once in a while the Lost Ones need a night where they just hunker down in the living room and sleep there like a bunch of seven year olds.

Prompt: Pillow

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

They didn’t tend to do this a lot, not since they were much smaller, and much newer in the Manor. Tonight the living room of the Manor was covered in pillows and blankets, making a huge pillow fort area. The outer area you could mostly walk through, but the inner edges you had to crawl. Snacks were left for the kids around the edges of the fort to keep them from making too big of a mess.

Dark opened a random portal or two to check on them but mostly the seven Lost Ones were left to their own devices.

Yan leaned over to put her elbows on her eldest adopted brother’s pillow. “How's Florida?”

“Too hot,” Patton looked up at her as he was working on a cat-themed coloring book. “But I’ll get used to it. Appa’s place down there has good air conditioning.”

“I want to go, tell him I can go,” Yan pleaded.

A pillow came from the side and hit her off of Patton’s area. Arthur had his black notebook on his lap and leaned over. “Fat chance, I only just got him to let me go, and if you go he’ll be all over us.”

“C’mon,” Yan said as she tossed the pillow back at him.

The young author easily dodged and the pillow almost dislodged some of the blanket wall. Which Illinois had to hold up before enough of the weight could start dislodging and bringing down the fort.

“Hey,” Illinois called out before his magic set the curtain rod holding the partition up. “Quit roughhousing in here, go outside.”

Yan leaned over and pulled the blanket up to lean over Illinois’s shoulder where he, Bim, and Yancy were watching Army of Darkness.

“Hey, Ills.” Yan smiled.

“No,” Illinois said without looking at her.

She frowned. “I didn’t even ask. You’re so mean.”

“There’s no convincing Appa, you’d have to wait another year at least.” Illinois finally looked back at her. “Wait your turn like the rest of us had to.”

“No fair,” Yan said as she moved into their area to watch the movie. Illinois let her slide up next to him.

Arthur and Patton were left in the other area for a couple of minutes before a portal opened up next to them.

Dark’s ringing was dulled but still present. “Boys, if you would, a moment?”

The two adopted brothers looked at each other before crawling through the portal and jumping down to stand in Dark’s office.

“Perfect,” Dark said as he pulled a small, thin wooden box out of a different portal. “I’ll make this quick. Patton, during your stay, you’re in charge.”

“Figures.” Arthur was barely audible but Dark gave him a sharp look.

Dark’s expression turned more into a frown. “I need you two to be able to blend in. Remember, your future careers in the Network depend on how well you do. I need you to be able to pretend to be fully human and have covers. If you can’t, you’ll be pulled back into Egoton and we will discuss what to do from there.”

“We got this, Old Man, don’t worry,” Arthur said.

“That remains to be seen,” Dark said as he opened the case and his aura pulled out two silver pines. Each a gleaming star with deer antlers curled around it. The pins were moved to clip onto the inside of their sleeve where a cufflink would sit on a fancy dress shirt.

Dark closed the case with a sharp SNAP and used his aura to check their placement. His aura burrowing into the very metal itself. “There are many gangs in the area. Deceit of the Twin Serpents is one of them. These should mark you as my top enforcers and give you less trouble.”

“Awesome,” Arthur smiled, turning his sleeve over to study it.

“Remember that you are my enforcers, you do things my way. You represent me and therefore you have to obey my rules to the letter. You are Pathos and Author, not anything else.”

“Got it, boss,” Patton did a mock salute, a huge smile on his face.

Dark managed a proud smirk. “You two will make your father proud, I’m sure of it.”

After that he opened up another portal right to where they had been before in the fort. “You both start on Monday, you have the weekend to pack and I can send you anything else you need. Including a trip home with just a tap of the pin.”

“Won’t need it,” Arthur said as he climbed back into the fort.

Patton gave another big smile and climbed into the fort where there was minor jealousy from Bim and Yan.

None from Illinois, at least visibly, which was what the young author had wanted.

All in all it was a nice night, watching movies. Talking about boys, except for Kay who just wanted to talk about random animal facts.

They fell asleep watching a horror movie and Dark was there to wake them up at the respectable hour of ten in the morning.

Another successful night at the Doom-Warfstache household.

A/N: Huh, what's Patton doing here? Ehhh, I'm sure that's not important. :)

[policemanofprincesspark]

How Harry Could Improve

1. Post! Photos! On! IG! Nobody expects selfies from him but just the occasional pic of him on vacation, or something quirky he's seen on his travels, or a book he's read and recommends! His caption game used to be strong and showcased his sense of humor.

2. Find another London best friend who isn't Controversial Corden who nobody likes.

3. Take more care with your street style. Leave the hair clip, the woolly hat and the trackies at home. He killed street style between 2013-2017.

How Louis Could Improve

1. He won't stop smoking cigarettes and weed but he could stop glamorizing it by posting photos of himself doing it. I can't think of anyone else who does that these days including his idol Liam G.

2. Don't drink alcohol on stage or take pics with fans when you're clearly very drunk or high.

3. Ditch the fake Manchester accent you use when you sing. He never had this in 1d or on Walls. A lot of fans found the FitF songs hard to understand.

For Harry:

1. I miss Harry being active on social media. I know he might be trying to seem mysterious and unattainable, but I remember even when he posted while in 1D, at least in the years that I was a fan, he still retained that mystery and intrigue because his tweets were often cryptic and he rarely posted on instagram. Likewise, those posts also had cryptic captions. He comes off as super pretentious when he refuses to engage with fans via social media when most other celebrities do.

2. You are who your friends are. He has multiple zionist friends, has a bizarrely obsessive allyship towards Jewish people and Judaism, and pumps his fist at the Israel flag. It's clear that he is a PROUD zionist—but not proud enough to lose his career over his views. I know many celebrities right now aren't speaking up, but I'd rather they just tell us they're on Israel's side than say nothing. Like, don't be a pussy about it.

3. His street style used to look so fashionable and interesting. I guess he's just tired these days of having to "go to work" and get papped, so he doesn't put the effort in most of the time. That's my guess.

For Louis:

1. Yeah, there are no excuses for that. He needs to have some shame, especially when he knows he has so many teen fans. Most smokers I've known have discouraged me from picking it up. All Louis is doing is encouraging. Like, why? If time travel was possible, I wonder if Louis would want to tell his past self not to start smoking. Like I said, most smokers I've known regret it.

2. He has a very serious problem. Every alcoholic I've known used alcohol to "self-medicate" when all they had was depression, anxiety, or some kind of personality disorder that they never got diagnosed. I've talked about this before—I think Louis has ADHD and has not gotten a diagnosis. I have it myself, so that's why I recognize the symptoms he showcases. He was an alcoholic before his mother died, but I think it's only worsened since then. He's going down the route Liam (Payne) went. I fear he'll never recognize the problem for what it is though.

3. In 1D, they all had to sing in semi-American accents, so I wouldn't use that as an example of what Louis's "real accent" is. I'm not great with British accent differences, so if you could give me an example of Louis singing a specific word in both Walls and FITF in completely different accents, please do. If he really is putting on a fake accent to copy Liam Gallagher or whatever, that's... really cringey, ngl.

[xtruss]

2023 Person Of The Year: Taylor Swift

— By Sam Lansky | Photographs By Inez And Vinoodh For TIME | Published: December 6, 2023

Taylor Swift is telling me a story, and when Taylor Swift tells you a story, you listen, because you know it’s going to be good—not only because she’s had an extraordinary life, but because she’s an extraordinary storyteller. This one is about a time she got her heart broken, although not in the way you might expect.

She was 17, she says, and she had booked the biggest opportunity of her life so far—a highly coveted slot opening for country superstar Kenny Chesney on tour. “This was going to change my career,” she remembers. “I was so excited.” But a couple weeks later, Swift arrived home to find her mother Andrea sitting on the front steps of their house. “She was weeping,” Swift says. “Her head was in her hands as if there had been a family emergency.” Through sobs, Andrea told her daughter that Chesney’s tour had been sponsored by a beer company. Taylor was too young to join. “I was devastated,” Swift says.

But some months later, at Swift’s 18th birthday party, she saw Chesney’s promoter. He handed her a card from Chesney that read, as Swift recalls, “I’m sorry that you couldn’t come on the tour, so I wanted to make it up to you.” With the note was a check. “It was for more money than I’d ever seen in my life,” Swift says. “I was able to pay my band bonuses. I was able to pay for my tour buses. I was able to fuel my dreams.”

Swift’s accomplishments as an artist—culturally, critically, and commercially—are so legion that to recount them seems almost beside the point. As a pop star, she sits in rarefied company, alongside Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, and Madonna; as a songwriter, she has been compared to Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, and Joni Mitchell. As a businesswoman, she has built an empire worth, by some estimates, over $1 billion. And as a celebrity—who by dint of being a woman is scrutinized for everything from whom she dates to what she wears—she has long commanded constant attention and knows how to use it. (“I don’t give Taylor advice about being famous,” Stevie Nicks tells me. “She doesn’t need it.”) But this year, something shifted. To discuss her movements felt like discussing politics or the weather—a language spoken so widely it needed no context. She became the main character of the world.

If you’re skeptical, consider it: How many conversations did you have about Taylor Swift this year? How many times did you see a photo of her while scrolling on your phone? Were you one of the people who made a pilgrimage to a city where she played? Did you buy a ticket to her concert film? Did you double-tap an Instagram post, or laugh at a tweet, or click on a headline about her? Did you find yourself humming “Cruel Summer” while waiting in line at the grocery store? Did a friend confess that they watched clips of the Eras Tour night after night on TikTok? Or did you?

Her epic career-retrospective tour recounting her artistic “eras,” which played 66 dates across the Americas this year, is projected to become the biggest of all time and the first to gross over a billion dollars; analysts talked about the “Taylor effect,” as politicians from Thailand, Hungary, and Chile implored her to play their countries. Cities, stadiums, and streets were renamed for her. Every time she came to a new place, a mini economic boom took place as hotels and restaurants saw a surge of visitors. In releasing her concert movie, Swift bypassed studios and streamers, instead forging an unusual pact with AMC, giving the theater chain its highest single-day ticket sales in history. There are at least 10 college classes devoted to her, including one at Harvard; the professor, Stephanie Burt, tells TIME she plans to compare Swift’s work to that of the poet William Wordsworth. Friendship bracelets traded by her fans at concerts became a hot accessory, with one line in a song causing as much as a 500% increase in sales at craft stores. When Swift started dating Travis Kelce, the Kansas City Chief and two-time Super Bowl champion, his games saw a massive increase in viewership. (Yes, she somehow made one of America’s most popular things—football—even more popular.) And then there’s her critically hailed songbook—a catalog so beloved that as she rereleases it, she’s often breaking chart records she herself set. She’s the last monoculture left in our stratified world.

It’s hard to see history when you’re in the middle of it, harder still to distinguish Swift’s impact on the culture from her celebrity, which emits so much light it can be blinding. But something unusual is happening with Swift, without a contemporary precedent. She deploys the most efficient medium of the day—the pop song—to tell her story. Yet over time, she has harnessed the power of the media, both traditional and new, to create something wholly unique—a narrative world, in which her music is just one piece in an interactive, shape-shifting story. Swift is that story’s architect and hero, protagonist and narrator.

This was the year she perfected her craft—not just with her music, but in her position as the master storyteller of the modern era. The world, in turn, watched, clicked, cried, danced, sang along, swooned, caravanned to stadiums and movie theaters, let her work soundtrack their lives. For Swift, it’s a peak. “This is the proudest and happiest I’ve ever felt, and the most creatively fulfilled and free I’ve ever been,” Swift tells me. “Ultimately, we can convolute it all we want, or try to overcomplicate it, but there’s only one question.” Here, she adopts a booming voice. “Are you not entertained?”

A few months before I sit with Swift in New York, on a summer night in Santa Clara, Calif., which has been temporarily renamed Swiftie Clara in her honor, I am in a stadium with nearly 70,000 other people having a religious experience. The crowd is rapturous and Swift beatific as she gazes out at us, all high on the same drug. Her fans are singularly passionate, not just in the venue but also online, as they analyze clues, hints, and secret messages in everything from her choreography to her costumes—some deliberately planted, others not. (“Taylor Swift fans are the modern-day equivalent of those cults who would consistently have inaccurate rapture predictions like once a month,” as one viral tweet noted.)

Standing in the arena, it’s not hard to understand why this is the biggest thing in the world. “Beatlemania and Thriller have nothing on these shows,” says Swift’s friend and collaborator Phoebe Bridgers. Fans in Argentina pitched tents outside the venue for months to get prime spots, with some quitting their jobs to commit to fandom full time. Across the U.S., others lined up for days, while those who didn’t get in “Taylor-gated” in nearby parking lots so they could pick up the sound. When tickets went on sale last year, Ticketmaster crashed. Although 4.1 million tickets were sold for the 2023 shows—including over 2 million on the first day, a new record—scalpers jacked up prices on the secondary market to more than $22,000. Multiple fans filed lawsuits. The Justice Department moved forward with an investigation. The Senate held a hearing. Given these stakes, Swift had to deliver.

Ticketmaster and Live Nation executives testified at a Senate hearing after demand for tickets overwhelmed the siteAl Drago—Bloomberg/Getty Images

“I knew this tour was harder than anything I’d ever done before by a long shot,” Swift says. Each show spans over 180 minutes, including 40-plus songs from at least nine albums; there are 16 costume changes, pyrotechnics, an optical illusion in which she appears to dive into the stage and swim, and not one but two cottagecore worlds, which feature an abundance of moss.

In the past, Swift jokes, she toured “like a frat guy.” This time, she began training six months ahead of the first show. “Every day I would run on the treadmill, singing the entire set list out loud,” she said. “Fast for fast songs, and a jog or a fast walk for slow songs.” Her gym, Dogpound, created a program for her, incorporating strength, conditioning, and weights. “Then I had three months of dance training, because I wanted to get it in my bones,” she says. “I wanted to be so over-rehearsed that I could be silly with the fans, and not lose my train of thought.” She worked with choreographer Mandy Moore—recommended by her friend Emma Stone, who worked with Moore on La La Land—since, as Swift says, “Learning choreography is not my strong suit.” With the exception of Grammy night—which was “hilarious,” she says—she also stopped drinking. “Doing that show with a hangover,” she says ominously. “I don’t want to know that world.”

Swift’s arrival in a city energized the local economy. When Eras kicked off in Glendale, Ariz., she generated more revenue for its businesses than the 2023 Super Bowl, which was held in the same stadium. Fans flew across the country, stayed in hotels, ate meals out, and splurged on everything from sweatshirts to limited-edition vinyl, with the average Eras attendee reportedly spending nearly $1,300. Swift sees the expense and effort incurred by fans as something she needs to repay: “They had to work really hard to get the tickets,” she says. “I wanted to play a show that was longer than they ever thought it would be, because that makes me feel good leaving the stadium.” The “Taylor effect” was noticed at the highest levels of government. “When the Federal Reserve mentions you as the reason economic growth is up, that’s a big deal,” says Ed Tiryakian, a finance professor at Duke University.

Carrying an economy on your back is a lot for one person. After she plays a run of shows, Swift takes a day to rest and recover. “I do not leave my bed except to get food and take it back to my bed and eat it there,” she says. “It’s a dream scenario. I can barely speak because I’ve been singing for three shows straight. Every time I take a step my feet go crunch, crunch, crunch from dancing in heels.” Maintaining her strength through workouts between shows is key. “I know I’m going on that stage whether I’m sick, injured, heartbroken, uncomfortable, or stressed,” she says. “That’s part of my identity as a human being now. If someone buys a ticket to my show, I’m going to play it unless we have some sort of force majeure.” (A heat wave in Rio de Janeiro caused chaos during Swift’s November run as one fan, Ana Clara Benevides Machado, reportedly collapsed during the show and later died; Swift wrote on Instagram that she had a “shattered heart.” She rescheduled the next show because of unsafe conditions, and spent time with Benevides Machado’s family at her final tour date in Brazil.)

Top: Swift told TIME she started training six months in advance of the Eras Tour, which kicked off in March. Courtesy TAS Rights Management Bottom: Austin, Andrea, and Scott Swift with Taylor at NYU graduation in 2022 where she received an honorary Doctorate of Fine Arts. Courtesy TAS Rights Management

Swift is many things onstage—vulnerable and triumphant, playful and sad—but the intimacy of her songcraft is front and center. “Her work as a songwriter is what speaks most clearly to me,” says filmmaker Greta Gerwig, whose feminist Barbie was its own testament to the idea that women can be anything. “To write music that is from the deepest part of herself and have it directly speak into the souls of other people.” As Swift whips through the eras, she’s not trying to update her old songs, whether the earnest romance of “You Belong With Me” or the millennial ennui of “22,” so much as she is embracing them anew. She’s modeling radical self-acceptance on the world’s largest stage, giving the audience a space to revisit their own joy or pain, once dismissed or forgotten. I tell Swift that the show made me think of a meme that says, “Do not kill the part of you that is cringe—kill the part of you that cringes.” “Yes!” she exclaims. “Every part of you that you’ve ever been, every phase you’ve ever gone through, was you working it out in that moment with the information you had available to you at the time. There’s a lot that I look back at like, ‘Wow, a couple years ago I might have cringed at this.’ You should celebrate who you are now, where you’re going, and where you’ve been.”

Getting to this place of harmony with her past took work; there’s a dramatic irony, she explains, to the success of the tour. “It’s not lost on me that the two great catalysts for this happening were two horrendous things that happened to me,” Swift says, and this is where the story takes a turn. “The first was getting canceled within an inch of my life and sanity,” she says plainly. “The second was having my life’s work taken away from me by someone who hates me.”

Swift shows me some things she loves in her apartment: a Stevie Nicks Barbie that sits still boxed in her kitchen, sent to her by the artist; the framed note from Paul McCartney that hangs in her bathroom; tiles around the fireplace that Swift found shopping in Paris with her mother. Connections to her family are everywhere, including a striking photo of her grandmother Marjorie, an opera singer and the inspiration for a track on her album evermore. Swift grew up on a Christmas-tree farm in Pennsylvania, with her younger brother Austin; her father Scott was a stockbroker at Merrill Lynch, and Andrea worked in marketing. Her family still works closely with her today. “My dad, my mom, and my brother come up with some of the best ideas in my career,” Swift says. “I always joke that we’re a small family business.”

After moving to Nashville as a teen, she signed with Scott Borchetta’s Big Machine Records. Swift’s songwriting ability was evident from the first lyrics of “Tim McGraw,” her debut single: “He said the way my blue eyes shined put those Georgia stars to shame that night—I said, ‘That’s a lie.’” Even for country music these lyrics are literary—conjuring a romantic fantasy, then deflating it a line later. The fairy-tale promise of love and intimacy became a runner in Swift’s work as a songwriter, something she’d repeatedly espouse, then skewer; she was self-aware about the role narrative played in her expectations. She was seen as a gifted pop-country ingenue when, in a now infamous moment, Kanye West interrupted Swift onstage at the 2009 VMAs while she was accepting an award. The incident set in motion a chain of events that would shape the next decade of both artists’ lives.

It was around that time, Swift remembers now, that she began trying to shape-shift. “I realized every record label was actively working to try to replace me,” she says. “I thought instead, I’d replace myself first with a new me. It’s harder to hit a moving target.” Swift wrote songs solo, incorporated diverse sonic influences, and placed more clues about personal relationships in her lyrics and album materials for fans to decode. Her epic ballad “All Too Well,” from 2012’s Red, epitomizes Swift’s superpower as a songwriter, deploying tossed-off details like a forgotten scarf that comes back at the song’s end to stab you in the heart—but it also had a secret message hidden in the liner notes. When an extended version of the song hit No. 1 last year upon its rerelease, it wasn’t only because the song is extraordinary, but because it has its own lore, like Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” if it came with an experiential puzzle for fans to solve. “She’s like a whole room of writers as one person, with that voice and charisma,” Bridgers says. “She’s everything at once.”

Swift knew she had to keep innovating. “By the time an artist is mature enough to psychologically deal with the job, they throw you out at 29, typically,” she says. “In the ’90s and ’00s, it seems like the music industry just said: ‘OK, let’s take a bunch of teenagers, throw them into a fire, and watch what happens. By the time they’ve accumulated enough wisdom to do their job effectively, we’ll find new teenagers.’” She went full-throttle pop for 2014’s 1989, putting her on top of the world—“an imperial phase,” she calls it. She didn’t realize it would also give her much farther to fall. Public sentiment turned—sniping about everything from her perceived overexposure to conspiracy theories about her politics. “I had all the hyenas climb on and take their shots,” she says. West wrote a song with vulgar lyrics about her, and claimed that Swift had consented to it, which Swift denied; West’s then wife, Kim Kardashian, released a video of a conversation between West and Swift that seemed to indicate that Swift had been on board with the song. The scandal was tabloid catnip; it made Swift look like a snake, which is what people called her. She felt it was “a career death,” she says. “Make no mistake—my career was taken away from me.”

It was a bleak moment. “You have a fully manufactured frame job, in an illegally recorded phone call, which Kim Kardashian edited and then put out to say to everyone that I was a liar,” she says. “That took me down psychologically to a place I’ve never been before. I moved to a foreign country. I didn’t leave a rental house for a year. I was afraid to get on phone calls. I pushed away most people in my life because I didn’t trust anyone anymore. I went down really, really hard.” (Kardashian wrote, in a 2020 social media post, that the situation “forced me to defend him.”) Swift’s next album, 2017’s Reputation, featured snake imagery; the video for “Look What You Made Me Do” saw her killing off younger versions of herself. She remembers Reputation being met with uproar and skepticism. “I thought that moment of backlash was going to define me negatively for the rest of my life,” she says. She had also satisfied her record deal with Borchetta, and knew she wanted out. “The molecular chemistry of that old label was that every creative choice I wanted to make was second-guessed,” she says. “I was really overthinking these albums.”

She met with Lucian Grainge, the CEO of Universal Music Group, and Monte Lipman, who runs Universal’s top label Republic Records, to talk about signing a deal that would give her more agency. Today, Grainge is perhaps the most powerful executive in the music industry, but, as I sit with him in his office in Los Angeles, he describes himself as an “old punk” who operates on instinct more than metrics. He told Swift, he says, “We will utilize everything that we’ve got as a company for you.” Swift felt like she’d been given carte blanche: “Lucian and Monte basically said to me, ‘Whatever you turn in, we will be proud to put out. We give you 100% creative freedom and trust.’” It was exactly what she needed to hear most when the chips were down.

Yet the release of Swift’s first album with Republic, 2019’s Lover, coincided with the second big upheaval in her professional life: Borchetta had sold Big Machine—and with it, Swift’s catalog, valued then at a reported $140 million—to Ithaca Holdings, which is owned by music manager Scooter Braun, a former ally of West’s. “With the Scooter thing, my masters were being sold to someone who actively wanted them for nefarious reasons, in my opinion,” Swift says. (“It makes me sad that Taylor had that reaction to the deal,” Braun told Variety in 2021.) The sale meant that the rights to Swift’s first six albums moved to Braun, so whenever someone wanted to license one of those songs, he would be the one to profit. Swift rallied her fans against the deal, but still felt powerless. “I was so knocked on my ass by the sale of my music, and to whom it was sold,” she says. “I was like, ‘Oh, they got me beat now. This is it. I don’t know what to do.’” She went back to work, using the pandemic lockdown to pare back her sound on critically acclaimed albums folklore and evermore.

Around the same time, she started thinking about rerecording her old albums in an effort to wrest back control. “I’d run into Kelly Clarkson and she would go, ‘Just redo it,’” Swift says. “My dad kept saying it to me too. I’d look at them and go, ‘How can I possibly do that?’ Nobody wants to redo their homework if on the way to school, the wind blows your book report away.” Since Swift wrote her own songs, she retained the musical composition copyright and could rerecord them. She also negotiated to own the master rights for her material when she moved over to Republic in 2018, so she now owns her new material and the rerecorded songs. (Major labels have since made it more difficult for artists to rerecord their music.) She began rerecording subtly different versions of her old albums, tagging them “(Taylor’s Version)” and adding unreleased tracks to redirect listenership to them. She frames the strategy as a coping mechanism. “It’s all in how you deal with loss,” she says. “I respond to extreme pain with defiance.”

Top: Swift performs at Foro Sol in Mexico City on Aug. 24. Hector Vivas—TAS23/Getty Images for TAS Rights Management Bottom: After playing Kansas City in July, Swift returned in October to support her boyfriend, Chiefs star Travis Kelce. David Eulitt—Getty Images

Grainge calls the rerecording project “bizarrely brilliant and unique”—something that only an artist at her level could pull off. “It’s got such a narrative—there’s a reason for it.” He shakes his head. “Imagine Picasso painting something that he painted a few years ago, then re-creating it with the colors of today.” Part of the success story, Swift says, is the freedom she received from the label to follow her instincts. “If you look at what I’ve put out since then, it’s more albums in the last few years than I did in the first 15 years of my career,” she says. That prolific output has fueled her ascension. “She could serve two terms as President of the United States and then go to Las Vegas,” Grainge says. “Who else can do that?”

In the grand narrative of Swift’s life, as she rose this year, her foes’ fortunes also seemed to turn. Over the summer, it was reported that several of Braun’s key clients—chief among them Justin Bieber and Ariana Grande—were no longer being managed by his company, while West’s antisemitic and other offensive remarks led to his losing key endorsement deals. Swift knows firsthand that fame is a seesaw. “Nothing is permanent,” she says. “So I’m very careful to be grateful every second that I get to be doing this at this level, because I’ve had it taken away from me before. There is one thing I’ve learned: My response to anything that happens, good or bad, is to keep making things. Keep making art.” She considers. “But I’ve also learned there’s no point in actively trying to quote unquote defeat your enemies,” she says. “Trash takes itself out every single time.”

The premiere for Swift’s concert film takes place at the Grove, an outdoor mall in Los Angeles, which has been shut down for the event; Swift has packed 13 screens with thousands of fans. She goes, one by one, to each theater thanking sobbing audience members for being there. Like the tour, the film, which was released directly to theaters without a traditional partner, is an event. “We met with all the studios,” she tells me, “and we met with all the streamers, and we sized up how it was perceived and valued, and if they had high hopes and dreams for it. Ultimately I did what I tend to do more and more often these days, which is to bet on myself.” She credits her father with the idea. “He just said, why does there have to be a—for lack of a better word—middleman?”

In the theater excitement ripples through the crowd, a mix of fans and Swift’s friends, as we wait for her. To my left are two dedicated Swifties, sisters who introduce themselves as Madison, 23, and McCall, 20, and who are still reeling from taking a selfie with Swift on the red carpet. Their wrists are covered in friendship bracelets, some of which are deep cuts—such as no it’s BECKY, a reference to a beloved Tumblr meme, and BLEACHELLA STAN, for Swift’s 2016 platinum blond bob—and Madison reveals a tattoo on her forearm that says “Taylor’s Version.” Both tell me their favorite album is Reputation. They are my favorite people I have ever met, and I want to talk to only them for the rest of my life. Madison admires Swift for her vulnerability—“which is insane, when she’s under endless scrutiny”—while McCall cites her consistency, which she calls “a lost art form.” When I ask how McCall feels about Swift’s romantic life, she fields the question elegantly. “It’s a disservice to her to focus on that stuff,” she says. “She’s so good at making her personal experience relate to millions of people. When I listen to her songs, I think about what I’ve been through—not what she’s been through.”

Swift’s private life has long served as both grist for the tabloid mill and inspiration for her own work; she split from her longtime boyfriend, actor Joe Alwyn, earlier this year. Most recently, she’s been dating the NFL star Travis Kelce, as has been well documented when she attends his games. “I don’t know how they know what suite I’m in,” she says. “There’s a camera, like, a half-mile away, and you don’t know where it is, and you have no idea when the camera is putting you in the broadcast, so I don’t know if I’m being shown 17 times or once.” She is sensitive to the attention that’s put on her when she shows up. “I’m just there to support Travis,” she says. “I have no awareness of if I’m being shown too much and pissing off a few dads, Brads, and Chads.”

I point out that it’s a net positive for the NFL to have a few Swifties watching. “Football is awesome, it turns out,” Swift says playfully. “I’ve been missing out my whole life.” (A game she attended in October was the most-watched Sunday show since the Super Bowl.)

Given her complex history with public interest in her dating life, I say, it seems noteworthy that her relationship with Kelce has played out so publicly. Swift gently pushes back: “This all started when Travis very adorably put me on blast on his podcast, which I thought was metal as hell,” she says. “We started hanging out right after that. So we actually had a significant amount of time that no one knew, which I’m grateful for, because we got to get to know each other. By the time I went to that first game, we were a couple. I think some people think that they saw our first date at that game? We would never be psychotic enough to hard launch a first date.” The larger point, for her, is that there’s nothing to hide. “When you say a relationship is public, that means I’m going to see him do what he loves, we’re showing up for each other, other people are there and we don’t care,” she says. “The opposite of that is you have to go to an extreme amount of effort to make sure no one knows that you’re seeing someone. And we’re just proud of each other.”

Swift’s openness is one part of why her fan base leans heavily, though not exclusively, female. The Eras Tour was one critical piece of what Swift calls “a three-part summer of feminine extravaganza”—the other two parts being Gerwig’s box-office bonanza Barbie and Beyoncé’s blockbuster, culture-shifting Renaissance Tour. “To make a fun, entertaining blast of a movie, with that commentary,” she says of Barbie, “I cannot imagine how hard that was, and Greta made it look so easy.” (“I’m just a sucker for a gal who is good with words, and she is the best with them,” Gerwig says about Swift, whom she calls “Bruce Springsteen meets Loretta Lynn meets Bob Dylan.”)

Swift is no less effusive in talking about Beyoncé, who brokered a similar deal with AMC and shows up to Swift’s Los Angeles premiere; the next month, Swift returns the favor by attending Beyoncé’s in London. “She’s the most precious gem of a person—warm and open and funny,” Swift says. “And she’s such a great disrupter of music-industry norms. She taught every artist how to flip the table and challenge archaic business practices.” That her tour and Beyoncé’s were frequently juxtaposed is vexing. “There were so many stadium tours this summer, but the only ones that were compared were me and Beyoncé,” she says. “Clearly it’s very lucrative for the media and stan culture to pit two women against each other, even when those two artists in question refuse to participate in that discussion.”

To Swift, the success of all three feels like an inflection point. “If we have to speak stereotypically about the feminine and the masculine,” she says, “women have been fed the message that what we naturally gravitate toward—” She has a few examples: “Girlhood, feelings, love, breakups, analyzing those feelings, talking about them nonstop, glitter, sequins! We’ve been taught that those things are more frivolous than the things that stereotypically gendered men gravitate toward, right?” Right, I say. “And what has existed since the dawn of time? A patriarchal society. What fuels a patriarchal society? Money, flow of revenue, the economy. So actually, if we’re going to look at this in the most cynical way possible, feminine ideas becoming lucrative means that more female art will get made. It’s extremely heartening.”

Beyoncé joined Swift in Los Angeles on Oct. 11 for the first screening of her Eras Tour filmJohn Shearer—Getty Images for TAS

Amid so much attention, it seems noteworthy that Swift appears more relaxed in the public eye, not less—although I wonder out loud whether it just appears that way. She nods. “Over the years, I’ve learned I don’t have the time or bandwidth to get pressed about things that don’t matter. Yes, if I go out to dinner, there’s going to be a whole chaotic situation outside the restaurant. But I still want to go to dinner with my friends.” She sounds thoughtful. “Life is short. Have adventures. Me locking myself away in my house for a lot of years—I’ll never get that time back. I’m more trusting now than I was six years ago.”

She’s also having more fun. At her premiere, Swift sits in the same row as me, Madison, and McCall, singing along and dancing in her seat; we keep craning our necks to look at her, sharing thunderstruck looks: Isn’t this surreal? There are moments in the film when the cameras capture the enormous screens behind Swift onstage, and it feels like a house of mirrors, these myriad reflections of Taylor Swift—us watching her watch herself on a screen, which is itself showing Swift’s image on so many screens, the thousands of fans onscreen in the stadium and us in this theater, with Swift in the middle of it—all of us rapt, unable to look away.

Swift and I have been talking for a while now at her apartment, long enough that our coffees have gone cold and her cat Benjamin Button has trundled into the room, then gotten bored and left. She tells me about revisiting Reputation, which is perhaps the most charged era in the tour. “It’s a goth-punk moment of female rage at being gaslit by an entire social structure,” she says, laughing. “I think a lot of people see it and they’re just like, Sick snakes and strobe lights.” The upcoming vault tracks for Reputation will be “fire,” she promises. The rerecordings project feels like a mythical quest to her. “I’m collecting horcruxes,” she says. “I’m collecting infinity stones. Gandalf’s voice is in my head every time I put out a new one. For me, it is a movie now.”

It strikes me then that for all the talk about eras, it’s also worth thinking about genres—how Swift has moved between them in the stories she’s told. At first, it was a coming-of-age story, one about a young woman finding her way in the world and honing her voice before a fickle public. Then there were romances, great ones—tales of enchantment and desire, heartbreak and disillusionment, relationships that she both excavated for her songs and that the media documented for her with either joy or schadenfreude, depending on the day. There have been dramas with stakes so high and turns so twisty they feel Shakespearean in their scope, betrayals both personal and professional that have shaped her life. Occasionally, these stories have tipped into screwball comedy—like when a crowd in Seattle cheered so loudly it registered as an earthquake, or when, on a tour stop in Brazil, the local archdiocese allowed messages celebrating her to be projected onto the 124-ft. Christ the Redeemer statue. But they have one thing in common: Swift.

She is a maestro of self-determination, of writing her own story. The multihyphenate television creator Shonda Rhimes—no stranger to a plot twist—who has known Swift since she was a teenager, puts it simply: “She controls narrative not only in her work, but in her life,” she says. “It used to feel like people were taking shots at her. Now it feels like she’s providing the narrative—so there aren’t any shots to be taken.”

Here, Swift has told me a story about redemption, about rising and falling only to rise again—a hero’s journey. I do not say to her, in our conversation, that it did not always look that way from the outside—that, for example, when Reputation’s lead single “Look What You Made Me Do” reached No. 1 on the charts, or when the album sold 1.3 million albums in the first week, second only to 1989, she did not look like someone whose career had died. She looked like a superstar who was mining her personal experience as successfully as ever. I am tempted to say this.

But then I think, Who am I to challenge it, if that’s how she felt? The point is: she felt canceled. She felt as if her career had been taken from her. Something in her had been lost, and she was grieving it. Maybe this is the real Taylor Swift effect: That she gives people, many of them women, particularly girls, who have been conditioned to accept dismissal, gaslighting, and mistreatment from a society that treats their emotions as inconsequential, permission to believe that their interior lives matter. That for your heart to break, whether it’s from being kicked off a tour or by the memory of a scarf still sitting in a drawer somewhere or because somebody else controls your life’s work, is a valid wound, and no, you’re not crazy for being upset about it, or for wanting your story to be told.

After all, not to be corny, haven’t we all become selective autobiographers in the digital age as we curate our lives for our own audiences of any size—cutting away from the raw fabric of our lived experience to reveal the shape of the story we most want to tell, whether it’s on our own feeds or the world’s stage? I can’t blame her for being better at it than everyone else. It’s also not like she hasn’t admitted it. She sang it herself, in her song “Mastermind,” off last year’s Midnights, in a bridge so feathery you could almost miss that it marks some of the rawest, most naked songwriting of her career: “No one wanted to play with me as a little kid/ So I’ve been scheming like a criminal ever since/ To make them love me and make it seem effortless/ This is the first time I’ve felt the need to confess/ And I swear I’m only cryptic and Machiavellian because I care.”

She tells me she wrote that song after watching the Paul Thomas Anderson film Phantom Thread, which—spoiler—culminates in the reveal of a vast, layered manipulation. “Remember that last scene?” she says. “I thought, wouldn’t it be fun to have a lyric about being calculated?” She pauses. “It’s something that’s been thrown at me like a dagger, but now I take it as a compliment.”

It is a compliment. After I leave Swift’s house, I can’t stop thinking about how perfectly she crafted this story for me—the one about redemption, how she lost it all and got it back. Storytelling is what she’s always done; that’s why, Chesney tells me, he gave her that gift all those years ago. “She was a writer who had something to say,” he says. “That isn’t something you can fake by writing clichés. You can only live it, then write it as real as possible.”

She must have known that all the references she made had hidden meanings, that I’d see all the tossed-off details for the Easter eggs they were. The way she told me that story about Chesney, she knew there was a lesson, about the power of generosity, and how a crushing defeat can give way to a great and surprising gift. The way she said, “Are you not entertained?”—surely we both knew it was a quote from Gladiator, a movie in which a hero falls from grace, is forced to perform blood sport for the pleasure of spectators, and emerges victorious, having survived humiliation and debasement to soar higher than ever. And the way before I left, she showed me the note from Paul McCartney hanging in her bathroom, which has a Beatles lyric written on it—and not just any Beatles lyric, but this one: “Take these broken wings and learn to fly.” —With reporting by Leslie Dickstein and Megan McCluskey •

Styled by Heidi Bivens at Honey Artists; hair by Holli Smith; make-up by Diane Kendal; nails by Maki Sakamoto; production by VLM Productions

On the covers: Jacket, denim shirt and turtleneck by Polo Ralph Lauren; dress by Area; bodysuit by Bardot, tights by Wolford; earrings are artist’s own

On the inside: Jacket, denim shirt and turtleneck by Polo Ralph Lauren; tuxedo jacket, tuxedo shirt, vest and pocket square by Ralph Lauren Collection, jeans by Polo Ralph Lauren; dress by Alaia; rings by Anna Sheffield and Cartier; earrings are artist’s own

[krispyweiss]

Sound Bites Presents: the 2023 Live Music Year in Review

The year 2023 will go down in history as the year Sound Bites finally started seeing live music at something resembling a pre-pandemic clip.

In addition to attending Hardly Strictly Bluegrass in San Francisco, the blog - often accompanied by the long-suffering Mrs. Sound Bites - caught a slew of gigs by musicians he’d seen a couple of dozen times and many others for the first time. And as the years combine, Sound Bites realizes that soon he will be seeing more acts that are younger than him, rather than older.

But not yet. So here, then, is Sound Bites’ 2023 Live Music Year in Review presented in order from favorite to least-favorite gigs; all were in backward Oiho, unless otherwise indicated.

Los Lobos (22) at Midland Theatre, Newark, July 14 - Fifty years into their career, Los Lobos are still on any given night, the best live band in America. Review here.

Billy Strings (3) at Andrew J. Brady Music Center, Cincinnati, March 16 - Think rock-’n’-roll-bluegrass show. Review here.

Hawktail (1) at Holland Theatre, Bellefontaine, Jan. 21 - Hawktail is a genre as much as it is a musical group. Review here.

Rhiannon Giddens (3) with ProMusica Chamber Orchestra, Southern Theatre, Columbus, Jan. 19 - After 110 minutes and two sets, Giddens and the ProMusica Chamber Orchestra were out of songs. They’d given enough. Review here.

Robert Plant and Alison Krauss (2) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, May 3 - Slightly less than flawless. Review here.

Tommy Emmanuel (3) with Jorma Kaukonen (6) at Southern Theatre, Columbus, Ohio, July 13 - “Damn, Tommy, I had to smoke a cigarette after that last song,” opener Kaukonen said at one point. He wasn’t the only one. Review here.

Eilen Jewell (1) at Natalie’s Grandview, Columbus, Sept. 10 - While Jewell makes good records, the self-described Queen of the Minor Key is at her best on stage. Review here.

Mighty Poplar (1) at Stuart’s Opera House, Nelsonville, Sept. 17 - They come from non-traditional places. But when they come together as Mighty Poplar, members of Watchhouse, Punch Brothers and Leftover Salmon embrace bluegrass tradition head on. Review here.

Los Lobos (23) at Hoover Auditorium, Lakeside, July 15 - Los Lobos treated the gated community of Lakeside to a swell, 1950s-themed dance party and the nearly 2,000 people who attended the gig responded in turn. Review here.

Darrell Scott (4) at King Arts Complex, Nicholson Auditorium, Columbus, May 13 - With a rare combination of musicianship and showmanship, coupled with a versatile voice that moves effortlessly from falsetto to baritone, Scott is a master solo tactician. Review here.

Blind Boys of Alabama (3) at Mershon Auditorium, Columbus, Nov. 15 - The voices change, but the Blind Boys of Alabama endure. And though the group that kicked off its tour in Columbus, Ohio, was different, one thing was the same: You always leave a Blind Boys show feeling better than you did upon arrival. Review here.

Lyle Lovett (6) and Leo Kottke (6) at Midland Theatre, Newark, Oct. 28, 2023 - Opposites attract for an engaging evening in Conversation and Song. Review here.

Yasmin Williams (1) Wexner Center for the Arts, Columbus, March 28 - Williams is the reason why the term see a concert - rather than hear a concert - remains in use. Review here.

Lyle Lovett (5) and His Large Band at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, July 26 - Lovett and his multi-genre band played comedic soul, ballroom balladry, blues, gospel and virtually every other style of American music as ragtime, Dixieland, bluegrass and more popped up across the band’s many improvisational interludes. Review here.

Dead & Company (13) at Rouff (Pronounced “Deer Creek”) Music Center, Noblesville, Ind., June 27 - The last - & best - Dead & Company show Sound Bites saw. Review here.

Toward the FUN(ds): A Concert Benefitting Camp Winnarainbow at Herbst Theatre, San Francisco, Calif., Sept. 28 - Seeing how they all were in town for separate appearances at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, Steve Earle, Rickie Lee Jones, Peter Rowan and John Craigie got together and donated some time to a guitar (and mandolin) pull to benefit Wavy Gravy’s Camp Winnarainbow. John Popper popped in, too. Review here.

Béla Fleck’s My Bluegrass Heart (2) at Midland Theatre, Newark, March 30 - This was music of flat picking, clipped chords, bowed bass and blazing solos. Everyone was in top form. Review here.

Jackson Browne (5) at Palace Theatre, Columbus, June 3 - Someone wanting to hear the records in a concert hall might say Browne is losing his edge. Someone out for the without-a-net experience might revel in the not-set-in-stone nature that led to myriad surprises. Review here.

Roger McGuinn (3) at Midland Theatre, Newark, Aug. 22 - There’s no need for McGuinn to write a book. His Songs and Stories With … tour is his autobiography. And hearing the man speak and sing about his incredible life and career is much more enjoyable than reading about it anyway. Review here.

Loudon Wainwright III (1) at Natalie’s Grandview, Grandview Heights, May 10 - With his shock of unkempt, white hair and his shirt collar askew, Wainwright resembled a mad lecturer as he spanned his vast songbook. Review here.

FERD (1) at Rambling House, Columbus, Nov. 11 - If you don’t know FERD, you don’t know modern, old-time music. Review here.

Hot Tuna (11) at Jorma Kaukonen’s Fur Peace Ranch, Pomeroy, April 22 - To the people facing the stage, it was music. But to the men on stage, it was the continuation of a conversation that’s been running 60 years now. Review here.

Weyes Blood (1) at Newport Music Hall, Columbus, Aug. 30 - With a knockout-gorgeous voice, a knack for writing what she calls “sad-ass” songs and a penchant for arrangements that harken to Pet Sounds-period Beach Boys and Mind Games-era John Lennon, Blood is, indeed, mellow. But she has a stage presence. Review here.

Tedeschi Trucks Band (12) at Palace Theatre, Columbus, March 21 - Comparing Tedeschi Trucks Band to other groups is unfair to other groups. Comparing Tedeschi Trucks Band to Tedeschi Trucks Band is similarly unfair to Tedeschi Trucks Band. Review here.

Dead & Company (12) at Riverbend Music Center, Cincinnati, June 13 - Not only did Company men outnumber Dead men on Dead & Company’s Final Tour, they also dominated the music. Review here.

Joan Osborne (4) at Memorial Hall OTR, Cincinnati, Nov. 18 - Joan Osborne the singer remains the centerpiece of everything Osborne the artist has to offer. Review here.

Tim O’Brien and Jan Fabricius (2) at Natalie’s Grandview, Columbus April 20 - Playing as a duo, O’Brien and Fabricius sounded like your uncle and aunt might if they entertained the family sitting around the campfire outside the cabin. Review here.

Tony Hagood Quartet (1) at Natalie’s Grandview, Columbus, Dec. 14 - Vince Guaraldi is long dead. But the Music of Vince Guaraldi is alive and swinging thanks in part to the Tony Hagood Quartet. Review here.

Southern Culture on the Skids (3) at Rumba Cafe, Columbus, Oct. 9 - Combining a love of rockabilly, surf music and straight rock ‘n’ roll with equal parts irreverence and earnestness, Southern Culture on the Skids is the rare band that can make such antics as inviting fans on stage to dance and toss fried chicken into the audience and delivering a no-jokes musicality entirely congruent. Review here.

Bruce Hornsby & the Noisemakers (11) at People’s Bank Theatre, Marietta, Sept. 14 - Hornsby and the band played a concert imbued with “strange stylistic pacing,” as Bruuuuuce put it. As it unfolded, the gig traversed peaks and valleys. Review here.

Steep Canyon Rangers (9) at Murphy Theatre, Wilmington, July 22 - Poor sound and rebuilding notwithstanding, the Rangers tapped into some of the old magic. Review here.

Buddy Guy (2) Christone “Kingfish” Ingram (1) and Ally Venable (1) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, June 25 - Guy’s June 25 gig in a two-thirds-full Rose Music Center at the Heights was a torch passing of sorts as his 75-minute performance wrapped with the bluesman jamming alongside a pair of 24-year-old acolytes, Christone “Kingfish” Ingram and Ally Venable, who opened the evening with sets of 60 and 45 minutes, respectively. Review here.

Tim Heidecker & the Very Good Band (1) at Kemba Live!, Columbus , Aug. 14 - Comedian Tim Heidecker is a serious musician, a better musician than comic, in fact. Review here.

The String Cheese Incident (3) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, Sept. 20 - With a night off from the Outlaw Music Festival, the veteran Colorado band rolled in to Southwest Ohio and proceeded to “expand a little bit.” Review here.

Chicago (14) at Rose Music Center at the Heights, Huber Heights, May 6 - Chicago has become a cover band. Review here.

12/27/23

[kanmom51]

JM JK timeline.- my observations how they grew over the years - 2017

Disclaimer:  these are my own opinions and conclusions.  Feel free to disagree, but hate or aggression will be unacceptable.

This is a long one, so I will to post this in several parts (at least 4).

 2017 - Part 1

2017 is an enormous year for the couple.  This is such a significant year for the both of them.  

This is a year that both JK and JM become way bolder.  

Saying that, out of the two, it’s JK that I feel gets much more comfortable within his own skin, and feels ready to be louder.  Not only is JK making progress in coming to terms with himself, but he is ready to tell the world about it.  He is young, he is impulsive, meaning he most definitely needs reigning in by the members on several occasions.  

I think that is why, sometimes, it feels to us like he is more reserved with JM when it comes to the ‘skinship’ or closeness, because when he isn’t, he tends to go ‘too far’.  It’s sometimes easier to keep away, not touch, not react, than to touch or react and lose control in the process.  The ‘big’ or ‘loud’ moments we do get from him are mostly (GCFT not one of them) when he is acting impulsively, doing first and only then thinking it over.

Another thing we see this year is the two getting comfortable within the relationship.  By the end of the year we get to see how much more comfortable they are within themselves.  You can’t say yet that there is a calm between them, but they are getting there.  

At this point all the members of the group are aware of the relationship, and I believe that in 2017 the important surrounding staff are made aware too.  Were they outright told, or did they just ‘get it’ as the time past? Maybe both, in a way, all to be able to protect both members, and not to let things get out of control (protecting the band and the brand).  I think that the staff knowing allowed them both more freedom to be themselves, at least when off camera, without needing to hide all of the time.  

This is the year of both JM’s and JK’s love odes to each other.  

This year brought us bv2, GCFT, Serendipity, JK’s graduation and so much more.  

We still see the micro touches and brushes, but there is also a boldness, especially on JK’s part. As JK is finding his place within the relationship, asserting himself, he is also maturing, so he learns how to assert himself but also learns how to be more attentive to JM’s needs, especially his emotional needs.

JM was, and still continues to be JK’s anchor.  He is his biggest supporter, pushing him to challenge his boundaries, pushing him to the front, helping him when he is down, being there for him when he is hurt.

But JK is also there for JM. It is sometimes less noticeable, but he is the one that knows how to make him laugh, even when JM is down.  He supports him when he needs it.  He looks after him, makes sure he eats, protects him physically, when he thinks it’s needed.  

They are like magnets – constantly seeking each other’s closeness.

I know that there are many Jikook’s that believe that JK and JM’s romantic relationship started only after their end of 2017 trip to Tokyo.  I emphatically disagree.  2017 brings much development and change in their relationship, but that’s like every longer term romantic relationship.  There are shifts in the relationship.  The more the couple get to know each other, their wants and needs, they adjust themselves to that (as much as they want the relationship to continue).  That is the push and pull we see with the boys over the first 2 years .  Figuring out how they feel, what they want from each other, what they need from each other, and just how much they are willing to give the other or maybe give up of themselves.  

That’s a healthy relationship – when you manage to find that point of balance.  And that’s what the boys were doing throughout 2016 and 2017. That doesn’t mean that even after you find that point of balance there won’t be conflicts.  It does, though, enable you to come back to that balance faster, to be able to solve the conflict, because you understand each other better, and learn how to and when to give in (Summer package 2017 - the dream catcher saga).  

This brings me to the JK jealous narrative out there.  I don’t love it.  It makes JK out to be this possessive jealous boyfriend.  It’s oversimplifying and a bit juvenile.  Sorry, but that’s how I feel.  I’m not saying that JK ,or for that matter JM, didn’t ever get jealous.  They are human beings, like me and you.  Jealousy happens.  But there is a difference between getting jealous once in a while and creating this whole narrative of possessiveness jealousy, where someone is so jealous they can’t see anyone, including their closest of friends, come anywhere near your boyfriend.

Also, there could be other kinds of ‘jealousy’.   Not only seeing your significant other leaving you for someone else.  That is only one aspect of it, feeling threatened that someone you love will  be tempted to leave you for another.  But there are other aspects to jealousy too. You can be jealous of others, not a jealousy within your relationship, not a fear your significant other doesn’t love you or will leave you, but the jealousy of those others that can show affection to one another, but you can’t because of the nature of your relationship, that may have to be hidden.

There could also be frustration, not jealousy.  Frustration you need to keep hiding your relationship, when all you want to do is shout out loud to the world that JM/JK is yours.  

The fact that JK and JM’s relationship was something to be hidden, the fear of discovery (have you seen that clip when they are caught in the car ‘taking a photo for Twitter’? The panic on JK’s face? Seeing his face for me was heartbreaking) forced them to mellow down on their interactions, not to be obvious with the touchy feely between them.  

That, in my opinion, is another reason for JK’s minimalizing his skinship with JM.  Not knowing when it’s ok to touch, or just how much, or maybe the fear of going too far.  

JM had less of a problem with that.  Most of the time he was more calculated, knew exactly what he was doing, and how far he was pushing it (although, he too loses himself sometimes – Wings tour Japan documentary interviews, just for example).  

JK couldn’t do that, so sometimes the safer thing was to disconnect all together. That’s when the cameras were on, and not behind the scenes.  But not being able to show their love, having to hide, that took a toll on both of them. Seeing the person that they are building a relationship being able to be touchy with others but not with them, that hurt.  And that, in my opinion, is what we see and that is interpreted as jealousy some of the time with JK and with JM alike.    

2017 gave us plenty of content.  And just like with 2016 timeline, I just can’t address all of the content out there. I chose to refer to the content that seems most relevant to me.   No Twitter, mostly not photo shoots, even if they are the cutest.  Even if some of the moments there are spontaneous, most are directed.  The unicorn photo shoot, for example.  So beautiful, may have some spontaneous moments, but still mostly produced and directed.  Was it their own decision to pose with the unicorn? At this point in their careers, I doubt it.  It’s definitely a cute Jikook moment though.  They are beautiful, cute, have chemistry to die for, but it’s not more than that – not a JK and JM relationship moment, if you get what I’m driving at.

So, in JK’s words, let’s get it:

14 Jan 2017 Golden Disk awards – JK making his bae laugh, by imitating his own dance (Rainism) - exaggerating his own moves.  Yes Tae joins in, but JK is the one to initiate, and JM’s attention is solely on him.  He only has eyes for JK, but wasn’t that clear by now?

16 Jan 2017 ISAC 17 – I love these ones.  Just like with award shows, they have so much time to burn, that they sometimes seem to forget the cameras are there, so we get to see these little cute interactions between them, like JK finding his way to JM, wherever and whoever he may be with, little flirtatious behaviour, including JK finger hearting JM and JM doing it back to JK giggling. JM ‘flashing’ for JK .  JK holding JM’s hand, while it’s around JK’s waist, when photo taken.

19 Jan 2017 – Seoul Music Awards.  OMG, this is a big one for me.  They both look absolutely gorgeous btw.  This was one of the first clips I saw.  The way JK looks at JM, so beautiful.  But what topped the cake for me was what JK did.  JK notice JM back hugging Hobi, so he goes to Hobi, moves him aside, only then to go stand behind JM and back hug him, while gently placing his head on JM’s shoulder and closing his eyes.  

First of all, why move Hobi?  He wasn’t in the way, and it makes no sense to move him from below JM only to go behind JM and hug him from behind. Second, JK was fully aware that they were being photographed.  You can see the members around him posing for the cameras. This is where bold JK comes in. He needs JM.  JM is his safe place, his home, so who cares who can see or what they see?  He wants. No. Needs to hug him and feel him, so he will.  

When I saw JK close his eyes, I wanted to cry. I’m not exaggerating. It was so beautiful, so pure.  When I saw this, I knew.  I knew this was ‘something else’, something special.  

26 Jan 2017 – Global Vlive top 10 BTS – JK asserting his place by JM’s side.  Making sure JM doesn’t fall off the stool, but also pushing Jin back away from JM – that’s JK’s place not Jin’s.  We also get to see, again, the hesitation when touching JM, placing his hand at his lower back, only to pull back hesitantly.  We get the mutual glances, and them being in their own world.  At some point RM having to whack them out of it.

7 Feb 2017 – JK’s graduation day.  Big big day. Starting with JK making sure it’s JM standing by his side for the group photo.  In the car , on the way to their celebratory dinner,  JK singing a suggestive song while looking at JM – serenading him in a way.  Then JM asks JK what he wants for a graduation present, V telling JK that JM will buy him whatever he wants, and JK asking for an apartment (something that withing cultural context is a big thing).  The whole time there’s a flirty vibe between the two, V being the 3rd wheeler in the conversation.  

At the restaurant the boys recreate their photo from JK’s 1st day at high school too (of course it’s the two of them centrefold).

Then, to top the cake, there’s JM’s tweet.  The camera is on JM, and we hear what sounds like a kiss in the background bringing a big smile to JM’s face, and then what sounds like “My Mo, my mochi…”.  Then JM says congratulations and turns the camera sideways, only to see JK sitting there, and to JK’s smile and clapping.  V is in the back seat playing with his phone.  

Did JK send JM a kiss?  Did he call him his Mochi? .  Idk. 

It wouldn’t be the first or last time JK referred to JM as a Mochi.  

What I am sure of is that it had nothing to do with V. He was sitting in the back playing with his phone, totally ignoring or unaware of what was going on there.

To be continued...

[bloody-bee-tea]

Devastation - All Star Xicheng White Day 1

This is for the All Star Xichen White Day and the prompt for that was Fashion/Modelling/Makeup. I only chose the first two though.

Jiang Cheng is acutely aware of the eyes that are following him through the room. He doesn’t dare to look over to check out if it’s a glare or not, but he can imagine that it must be.

People usually glare at him.

Even though this feels a little bit unfair, because it’s the first time he ever actually met Lan Xichen and he’s not sure what he did to offend him like this already.

He hasn’t even spoken to the guy yet.

Jiang Cheng huffs into his glass of water at that thought, because Lan Xichen is probably an overprotective older brother and it’s more than clear that Lan Wangji doesn’t like Jiang Cheng one bit—at least that feeling is mostly mutual—and so he’s probably angry on his brother’s behalf.

It’s the only explanation Jiang Cheng has.

Jiang Cheng tries to ignore the stab of disappointment he feels at that, and he scolds himself for expecting anything more.

He might have a little tiny crush on Lan Xichen, and while Jiang Cheng never deluded himself into thinking anything more will come out of that, he wasn’t expecting active hostility either.

Especially since Lan Xichen doesn’t even know him yet.

“You look upset,” Nie Huaisang suddenly says from his side and Jiang Cheng scowls even harder.

“How would you know?” he bites out, but he knows he’s being unfair to his friend.

It’s not Nie Huaisang’s fault that Lan Xichen clearly can’t stand him.

“You have a broad variety of frowns,” Nie Huaisang says, tapping his fan against his lips. “And this is your upset scowl. So tell me, what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng tries, even though he damn well knows that it’s no use.

If Nie Huaisang thinks that something is wrong then he’ll definitely bother Jiang Cheng until he admits to it or erupts into his face.

It’s a tested method, and Jiang Cheng is annoyed to admit that it usually works too.

“Maybe you want to try that again and this time look a little more like you mean it,” Nie Huaisang teases him and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“Lan Xichen doesn’t like me,” Jiang Cheng finally whispers and goes hot in embarrassment at Nie Huaisang’s knowing little “Ah”.

They have been best friends for years, of course Nie Huaisang knows about Jiang Cheng’s stupid, unfounded, hopeless crush.

“Are you sure? Why wouldn’t he like you?” Nie Huaisang wants to know and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

It’s not like he knows how he offended Lan Xichen or what he did to make Lan Xichen dislike him. Lan Xichen is Nie Mingjue’s best friend and the brother of Wei Wuxian’s boyfriend—fiancé, now—but for all that their social circles should overlap at every turn, they have never actually met.

There were a few situations where one of them was leaving while the other was just arriving, but today is the first time they are in the same room for longer than twenty seconds.

“I mean, it’s not unusual for people to dislike me,” Jiang Cheng amends after a short pause, “but I didn’t even speak to him yet. Usually that’s the breaking point for most people.”

“Stop that right now,” Nie Huaisang chastises him and slaps him with his fan. “We talked about this. You’re not allowed to speak like this about my best friend,” Nie Huaisang firmly tells him and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at him.

“Doesn’t change the fact that he seems to despise me,” Jiang Cheng mutters under his breath, watching Lan Xichen from the corner of his eyes.

Lan Xichen is furiously scribbling something into a sketchbook before he turns the page with enough speed to almost rip it to shreds and then he’s glaring at Jiang Cheng again, before he turns back to his sketchbook.

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang muses. “He doesn’t seem angry.”

Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“Are you looking at the same guy I am? He nearly ripped that page in half, he’s so angry.”

“Or impatient,” Nie Huaisang gives back but Jiang Cheng won’t hear it.

“Look at him,” he hisses. “He looks as if he’s personally blaming me for his art block.”

“How do you know about his art block?” Nie Huaisang asks him with a frown and Jiang Cheng snorts.

“Please Huaisang. The statue is his brother and Wei Wuxian loves to overshare about everything regarding the statue. Including how he worries about his brother because he seems to have lost his muse and is even thinking about taking some time off.”

“You know, they are engaged now. You should probably stop calling Wangji that,” Nie Huaisang mildly says but they have had this conversation often enough that they both know nothing will come of it.

And besides; Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been together for long enough that Jiang Cheng actually says it with some kind of fondness now. Lan Wangji does make his brother happy, after all and Jiang Cheng can acknowledge at least that.

“I will, if he stops calling me sparkle,” Jiang Cheng give back, completely deadpan but he has to smile when Nie Huaisang bursts out into laughter.

“Okay, fair,” he says between his giggles right before he goes serious again. “But all jokes aside, I don’t think Xichen-ge hates you,” Nie Huaisang says again and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“Hate might be a strong word,” he finally amends. “Intense dislike would maybe fit more.”

“You’re being stupid. You said it yourself; you didn’t even speak to him yet. There’s no reason for him to dislike you. Maybe you should go over there and make some small-talk. Your brothers are getting married, you should at least make an effort to speak to him.”

Jiang Cheng can feel himself blush at just the mere suggestion but he has to agree that maybe Nie Huaisang is right about this. Maybe Jiang Cheng just has to talk to him, to either be completely sure that Lan Xichen truly dislikes him, or to amend his previous impression.

Either way, it will bring some clarity to the whole situation and with that thought in mind Jiang Cheng walks right up to Lan Xichen and sits down on the couch next to him.

He tries to keep his face smooth when Lan Xichen slams his sketchbook closed and then he tries to pretend not to be hurt when Lan Xichen leans slightly away from him.

“Hi,” Jiang Cheng says very eloquently and Lan Xichen jerks as if he’s a startled baby rabbit.

He blinks at Jiang Cheng a few times, before he finally manages to return the greeting.

“Hello,” Lan Xichen says and he sounds unsure and probably spooked to hell and back, and it’s Jiang Cheng’s time to stare in surprise as Lan Xichen suddenly gets up from the couch.

“Bye,” Lan Xichen rushes out and then promptly flees the scene.

Jiang Cheng can do nothing but stare after him. This is really not how he imagined meeting Lan Xichen for the first time would go over.

“That was strange,” Nie Huaisang says as he sits down next to Jiang Cheng on the couch, a thoughtful look on his face as he stares after Lan Xichen.

“I told you so,” Jiang Cheng says, trying not to let Nie Huaisang know how hurt he is over this reaction, but when Nie Huaisang pats his arm, he knows it’s futile.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang says and while Jiang Cheng was in the process of relaxing under his constant petting, he tenses when Nie Huaisang suddenly smiles at him. “I know how to cheer you up, though,” he promises and Jiang Cheng is not in the habit of calling his friends liars, but yeah.

Nie Huaisang is a liar.

“No,” Jiang Cheng says immediately, because he knows that whatever Nie Huaisang will propose now, he’s going to hate it.

“How about you model for me?” Nie Huaisang asks him and Jiang Cheng glares at him so hard, he hopes he sets him on fire.

“Absolutely not,” he gives back, because he will not model for Nie Huaisang.

“Come on, A-Cheng, why not?” Nie Huaisang whines and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes, before he sinks deeper into the couch.

“You damn well know why. I’m not going to model for you. Don’t you have Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji at your beck and call for that kind of thing anyway?”

“But I don’t want them,” Nie Huaisang says and clings to Jiang Cheng. “I want you to do it. You would look magnificent.”

“I wouldn’t look better than Wei Wuxian and I can’t hold my composure like Lan Wangji so stop it.”

Jiang Cheng is very firm in his refusal of this, has been ever since Wei Wuxian picked up modelling as a hobby, and he won’t change his stance on it now. He knows that he’s nothing compared to Wei Wuxian and he’s not keen to see it in the photos or clips Nie Huaisang will make.

“You would be wearing completely different clothes, you can’t even compare the two of you,” Nie Huaisang tries but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“No,” he says and Nie Huaisang deflates against him.

“You’re a spoilsport, A-Cheng,” he mutters, but he snuggles into Jiang Cheng’s side, so he can’t be too mad.

“And don’t we all know it,” Jiang Cheng says with a sigh, because that is one of the many faults he has.

The rest of the party goes over relatively quickly and Jiang Cheng does his best to stay out of Lan Xichen’s way, seeing as the guy clearly can’t stand him. It almost doesn’t hurt at all, especially with how hard Nie Huaisang tries to distract him.

~*~*~

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Wei Wuxian yells as he storms into Jiang Cheng’s apartment.

“Hello to you, too,” Jiang Cheng gives back, but he’s already on the defence because Wei Wuxian seems genuinely mad and Jiang Cheng can’t think of anything he did to warrant that reaction.

“Fuck you and your hello,” Wei Wuxian sneers and jabs his pointy finger into Jiang Cheng’s chest. “You’re a selfish, thick-headed idiot and I am so mad!” Wei Wuxian yells into his face and Jiang Cheng smacks his finger away.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jiang Cheng bites out. “Get the fuck out of my apartment if you think I’m so stupid.”

“You don’t even care, do you? You’re ruining Xichen-ge’s whole career and you don’t even care. God, you’re truly so damn selfish,” Wei Wuxian tells him and Jiang Cheng frowns at him.

“What the hell do I have to do with Lan Xichen? I don’t even speak to the guy,” Jiang Cheng tells him because he has barely even seen the guy since he so clearly fled from him, but Wei Wuxian continues to glare at him.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs and Jiang Cheng fights the urge to strangle him. “Is that what you tell yourself to be alright with what you are doing?”

“I have no fucking clue what you think I’m doing!” Jiang Cheng yells at him, completely fed up with Wei Wuxian’s accusations.

Wei Wuxian clearly wants to scream something back at him but before he can do so, Lan Xichen comes into the apartment. He frantically looks around until he sees Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng and then he rushes forward.

“Wei Wuxian, what are you doing?” Lan Xichen asks him, clearly trying for calm, but looking stressed as well.

“You said—” Wei Wuxian starts but Lan Xichen frantically shakes his head.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“What the hell is going on here?” Jiang Cheng snarls out, crossing his arms in front of his chest and shifting uncomfortably when both Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen turn to look at him.

“I would like to explain,” Lan Xichen starts, but Wei Wuxian interrupts him.

“Why would you even still speak to him if he’s ruining your whole show?” he demands to know and Lan Xichen sighs before he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Because he doesn’t know about it,” Lan Xichen mutters, and Wei Wuxian’s eyes go big.

“Oh,” he whispers and Jiang Cheng sends him a scathing glare.

“Yeah, oh,” Jiang Cheng says and then points at the door. “You’re going to get the fuck away from me now, I don’t want to see your stupid face until I calmed down, and then we will have words about your accusations,” he tells Wei Wuxian who presses his lips together and then scurries out of the door.

He closes it behind him very softly and Jiang Cheng glares after him for a long moment before he turns to Lan Xichen.

“Explain,” he bites out and does his very best to not find it fetching how Lan Xichen’s cheeks slowly turn red.

“What did he say exactly?” Lan Xichen asks him first and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“That I’m ruining your entire career,” Jiang Cheng gives back and frowns when Lan Xichen grimaces at that.

“He’s overreacting,” he then says but Jiang Cheng is not going to let him off without a proper explanation.

“About what?” he demands to know and Lan Xichen sighs, before his shoulder sag.

“I have a new collection ready,” Lan Xichen tells him and Jiang Cheng is surprised to hear that.

Last he knew, Lan Xichen was completely without inspiration and thought about taking some time off, so this surely must be a good thing.

“Congratulations?” Jiang Cheng asks, because with how the day has been going it cannot be simply something good, that much is clear to Jiang Cheng.

“Thank you.”

“Now what does it have to do with me ruining your career?” Jiang Cheng eventually prods when Lan Xichen doesn’t say anything else, and Lan Xichen blushes again.

“I refuse to let people who are not you model them,” Lan Xichen whispers and goes even more red in the face.

“Why would you do that?” Jiang Cheng asks with a frown. “And you didn’t even ask me about that.”

“I know,” Lan Xichen admits. “But I heard you talking to Huaisang once—during the party—and you said you’re not going to model, so I thought it futile to ask just for you to tell me to fuck off.”

“Why would you even want me to model for you if you have your brother and my gremlin at your beck and call? They are clearly the better choice,” Jiang Cheng says and almost manages to not sound bitter at all.

“Because you’re—” Lan Xichen starts and then can’t seem to bring himself to finish the sentence.

Instead he reaches into his bag and pulls out a sketchbook. Jiang Cheng recognizes it as the one Lan Xichen was drawing in when he saw him at the party and when Lan Xichen pushes it into Jiang Cheng’s chest, he takes it.

“Just look at it,” Lan Xichen says without meeting his eyes and Jiang Cheng frowns down at it before he flips it open.

He silently goes through every page, but his eyes get bigger and bigger as he goes along. Lan Xichen didn’t draw faces or anything, just sketched the absolute minimum to give it a human figure, but Jiang Cheng knows that it’s all him.

The clothes completely give it away.

They are all in various shades of purple, completely fitting Jiang Cheng’s style and he doesn’t know what to do with that at all.

“But you hate me,” Jiang Cheng says when he finally manages to tear his eyes away from the last page.

“Why would you ever think that?” Lan Xichen asks and Jiang Cheng thinks he must be imagining the devastation colouring his voice.

“Because you glared at me the whole evening! And then you fled like a startled animal when I tried to talk to you!” Jiang Cheng reminds him and Lan Xichen breathes out a soft oh.

“That wasn’t—" Lan Xichen starts and then shakes his head. “You’re so beautiful,” he finally says and frowns when Lan Xichen scoffs at that.

“You are! You’re gorgeous and captivating and seeing you in action, talking to people, it was like my muse had come back and hit me over the head. So I had to start drawing that very instant and it couldn't go fast enough with all the ideas I suddenly had, because you are just that inspiring. And then you came over to talk to me and I was just filling another page with clothes for you and I didn’t know what to do. So I ran,” Lan Xichen sheepishly admits and Jiang Cheng can only blink at him, because surely this must be a joke.

“What the hell are you on about?” Jiang Cheng finally manages to get out and he gives the sketchbook back to Lan Xichen, waiting for the punchline.

He’s not prepared for the look on Lan Xichen’s face though.

“You’re so beautiful,” Lan Xichen whispers again and it seems like he wants to reach out for Jiang Cheng before he remembers himself. “I’m sorry this made you uncomfortable, I wouldn’t have said anything if it wasn’t for Wei Wuxian,” Lan Xichen finally says with a sad, small smile when Jiang Cheng can’t seem to find his words.

“Please don’t let this—It doesn’t mean anything,” Lan Xichen finally finishes and that jerks Jiang Cheng out of his stupor.

“Of course it does!” he almost yells out and Lan Xichen flinches. “Fuck, you can’t just say that and then pretend that it doesn’t mean anything,” he goes on, voice a little bit softer and his heart is hammering away in his chest.

He fears that he’s going to perish on the spot if Lan Xichen keeps insisting that this doesn’t mean anything, and so he shakes his head vigorously when it seems like Lan Xichen is going to protest against his words.

“I’ve had a crush on you ever since our brothers started dating,” Jiang Cheng finds himself blurting out and Lan Xichen’s eyes go big. “So if this means more, then I’m not opposed to that,” Jiang Cheng finishes weakly, and is not prepared for the huge smile that breaks out on Lan Xichen’s face.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Lan Xichen beams at him and immediately reaches out to thread their fingers together.

“It still doesn’t mean I’m going to model for you,” Jiang Cheng grumbles, completely taken aback by how happy Lan Xichen seems, but even that doesn’t seem to do much to dampen his mood.

“That doesn’t matter,” Lan Xichen reassures him and Jiang Cheng finds that maybe he would like to model for him, if Lan Xichen keeps looking at him like this then.

Jiang Cheng will have to wait and see, though. He’s not going to dive into this head-first. At least not into modelling.

“Do you want to stay for—” Jiang Cheng leans slightly to the side so he can catch a glance at the clock, “lunch?” he then asks and Lan Xichen nods enthusiastically at him.

“I would love to,” he eagerly agrees and Jiang Cheng can’t help the small smile on his own face.

They still have to get to know each other and see where this will take them, but Jiang Cheng is cautiously hopeful about this and he can’t wait to spend more time with Lan Xichen.

And by how Lan Xichen squeezes his fingers, he’s feeling the same.

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