#I hate the rumor that everyone hated Paul cause like. no?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

calwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Star Star Tours

Summary: You and Sebastian have been dating for a while now, but the public doesn’t know that yet. Keeping your secret causes some tension on James Corden’s Star Star Tours.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x actress!reader

This is my first time writing for Marvel, so I hope people enjoy! It’s just something that I wrote really quick, but I love the bus tour video, and I thought this could be a cute story. Also, Sebastian was not in nearly enough of the disposable camera pictures.

It was no secret that press tours could be draining. Being stuck in a room for multiple days while people keep asking you the same questions over and over again even though they know that you can’t really answer them. And considering how big Infinity War is, it was no surprise that there were even more interviews than usual.

That was why you had been so excited when you had heard about James Corden’s bus tour. Getting to spend the day outside, surrounded by some of your costars, sounded like a vacation compared to being stuck in a chair all day. There was no doubt in your mind that it would be chaos. Of course, you would do you best to add to that chaos.

Still, as you glanced over at your boyfriend, you thought that maybe press tours weren’t all that bad. You and Sebastian had met while filming Civil War, but you hadn’t really talked much. Sebastian was pretty quiet, and you had worried that he found your loudness annoying, so you had focused on befriending your costars who seemed more receptive to your large personality.

It wasn’t until the press tour that you actually got to know Sebastian. You weren’t sure if you had been partnered with Sebastian and Anthony because someone thought Anthony might ease your nerves about your first Marvel press tour or if they hoped being stuck with two people as outgoing as you and Anthony might force Sebastian out of his shell. Either way, the three of you had been a hit that press tour. More importantly, Sebastian had asked you out shortly after Civil War premiered.

The two of you had been dating ever since. It had made interviews a bit difficult for both of you though. You had decided to keep your relationship private. In theory, you were going to go public after a few months, but the two of you had enjoyed having a part of your lives that was actually private. It was a surprise that no one had let it slip, considering both Tom Holland and Mark Ruffalo knew about the relationship. Still, it was hard ignoring dating rumors every time someone thought you must be with whatever costar you had smiled at that week.

“What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked, glancing at you before looking back the road. He took one hand off the wheel and grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers.

“Nothing.” You knew that Sebastian wouldn’t buy it. Not when he had seen your goofy grin.

“Nothing? Wanna try again?”

“What if we went to the premiere together?” You kept your eyes on your hand, still entwined with Sebastian’s.

“Like together together?” Sebastian took his hand back so he could turn into the parking lot of the studio. You tried not to notice the slight frown that he wore as he thought about your idea.

“We don’t have to. It’s just that it’s been almost two years. I thought it could be a good time. Maybe everyone will be so focused on the movie that we wouldn’t be big news.” Sebastian didn’t answer as he parked. You could already see a producer rushing over to the car, no doubt to get your ready for the tour. “You don’t have to answer now. Let’s just enjoy the tour and we can talk about it later.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and the two of you climbed out of the car and made your way over towards the bus.

After you got your mic and everything, you climbed up to the top of the bus, where James gave you a name tag after doing a little bit. Immediately, you rushed to the front row and took the seat next to Lizzie. The two of you had clicked immediately while filming Civil War, and she had been one of your best friends ever since.

You noticed that Sebastian waited for a few more people to get on before he climbed on and took a seat at the back next to Winston. You tried not to read too much into the fact that he was sitting as far away from you as possible. It was possible, probable even, that he was keeping his distance just so neither of you slipped up on camera. It was a tactic you used quite often. But it was also possible that you had freaked him out when you proposed going public and now he was going to avoid you.

Shaking off the doubts in your head, you picked up the disposable camera that you had been given and started snapping pictures as everyone settled in. To your relief, Sebastian gave you a smile and a small wave when you pointed the camera at Paul and Letitia, catching him in the background. Before it could descend into total chaos, the bus began moving and the tour started.

You and Lizzie almost died laughing when Benedict had to put sunscreen on James’s legs, but he had a point. “Does anyone need face sunscreen?” you asked, waving the bottle of face sunscreen that you had thrown in your purse at the last minute. Very pointedly, you turned to Benedict and Hiddleston. “I’m looking at you two.”

“We get it, Y/N,” Anthony yelled from the back. “You’re a mom friend.” You stuck your tongue out in reply, mainly because flipping him off didn’t seem very TV friendly. Nevertheless, your sunscreen got passed around the bus. Paul tried to give it back to you without putting any on, claiming that he didn’t need any, which resulted in you and Lizzie basically wrestling him and putting it on his face yourselves. The laugh died in your throat as you began turning back to the front and caught sight of Sebastian’s grumpy face. You raised your eyebrows, but he looked away.

“What’s up with him?” Lizzie asked quietly. Apparently she had seen his expression too. You could only hope that no camera had caught it.

“Tell you later.” You tapped slightly on your mic and Lizzie nodded.

Luckily James began the tour before you could dwell on it any more. Between Don’s exaggerated pose when he took a picture of the coffee shop, getting into trouble with James for being “disruptive,” and the singalong, which you got way too into, you had almost forgotten about Sebastian’s stormy expression.

“This is actually Barbara Streisand’s holiday home,” James said, pointing at some strange, red building. “She actually designed it herself.”

“Is that true, Josh?” you called, spinning around so you could face him.

Josh shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Well what do you know? You’re just the bad guy. You’re just trying to cause trouble,” James complained.

“She’s his stepmom, so I think I trust him a bit more than you, James. Sorry.” You shrugged innocently at him before turning back around the air high five Josh. Again, as you were turning back to the front, you caught Sebastian’s eye. He was basically glaring at you.

“What?” you mouthed at him, which of course everyone behind you saw, causing them to turn to look at Sebastian too.

“Y/N, I am trying to give a tour, and you are being disruptive once again. I need eyes up front please.”

“But James,” you whined, huffing in your seat like a little kid, “Sebastian keeps looking at me. Tell him to stop.”

“Sebastian, I need all eyes on me, please. I am the reason you all paid to be here-”

“We have to pay for this?” Hiddleston asked, but James continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“-so I need you to stop looking at Y/N and pay attention to me.”

“I didn’t even look at her. What am I not allowed to look around now?” Sebastian answered a bit too hotly. There was a brief moment where you could feel everyone look between the two of you, even James and Reggie, who had no idea why it was so strange that Sebastian had snapped like that.

“Geez, Mackie, control your man,” you joked, trying desperately to diffuse the tension.

“No way. Sebastian is not my man. He’s sitting with Winston, so he’s Winston’s problem today,” Mackie yelled back. Luckily, this caused Winston and Anthony to start bickering about who had to take care of Sebastian during the tour. Sebastian, of course, hated the attention and eventually agreed to behave and even gave you a very child-like “Sorry, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out in response and turned back to give James your full attention.

You all continued the act of disconnected celebrities as James explained what waiting in line was. Hoping to get a better view of the “normal people,” you tried to stand on your chair like you were ogling some animal at the zoo, but almost immediately at least five different people were yelling at you to get down. Apparently it “wasn’t safe” to stand on top of chairs on top of a moving bus.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?” You didn’t turn around this time, worried about seeing Sebastian staring at you again. Instead, you focused on the faux apologetic look on James’s face.

“I’m really sorry. The problem is that the rules on the tour is that you have to have appeared in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom. End credits scenes don’t count. Y/N, do you have to use the bathroom?”

“I haven’t been in three movies,” you pointed out.

“That’s right, you haven’t. So I hope you don’t have to use the bathroom. Tom Hiddleston, do you need to use the bathroom?”

“I’m actually okay.”

“Oh, so sorry Y/N. Sorry Josh. Maybe you should ask your stepmom Barbra Streisand if you can use the bathroom at her holiday home.”

“I don’t even have to go,” you protested as Lizzie died laughing next to you.

“Well that’s good because you can’t. Now, does anyone die in the next Avengers?”

The bus was quiet as you all looked at each other. Finally, Paul yelled, “Snitches end up in ditches!”

“I thought they got stitches first,” you whispered to Lizzie.

“Apparently Paul is skipping that part,” she replied. The two of you gave each other a look before dissolving into giggles at the thought of Paul actually throwing someone in a ditch.

The tour continued with more of James’s jokes before he had the bus pull over at a comic shop. A part of you was nervous to go inside. While most of the fans that you had met were nice, you knew that there were still a lot of comic fans who didn’t like your character, or how you played your character, or that you had been cast, or whatever. You gave Lizzie’s hand a nervous squeeze, which she returned, but really you wanted to be holding Sebastian’s hand. You were each other’s biggest supporter. Whenever one of you was feeling nervous, the other was normally right there to offer support.

But instead, you walked in separately.

Luckily, everyone seemed too starstruck to gripe about anything. It ended up being a pretty nice time. You signed some comics and chatted to some fans. One girl even told you about a tattoo dedicated to your character that she was going to get. You almost had a heart attack when she asked you to write down her favorite line of yours, so that she could add that to the tattoo. Afterwards, Mackie had teased you about how much your hand was shaking when you were writing it. It looked like Sebastian was about to say something, but then a camera was suddenly in your face and he disappeared to the other side of the store.

After buying a couple of comics for yourself, you and Lizzie found yourselves in the corner of the store playing with a Scarlet Witch doll that you had bought for her. You didn’t notice when she looked up with a small frown on her face, but you did feel the hand that came to rest on your waist. You looked around quickly, making sure that no cameras were on you, before meeting Sebastian’s eyes.

“What are you doing, Seb?” you whispered. Without you realizing, Lizzie snuck away to give the two of you some privacy. Or as much privacy as you can get when you’re wearing a mic and possibly being filmed.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I just got kind of jealous and I snapped a little.”

“Jealous?” You put your hand on Sebastian’s arm to keep him in place when you felt him begin to back away. “Jealous about what, Sebastian?”

“I don’t know.” He waved his hand around a bit at the rest of the group. “Just seeing your hands all over Paul and joking around with everyone around you.”

“Lizzie and I were forcibly putting sunscreen on Paul. I did that to you before we left the house this morning. I don’t think you have anything to be jealous about.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Sometimes it just feels like you always have everyone’s attention and you’re joking around with all of them and you never pay attention to me.” You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing at the adorable pout on Sebastian’s face. “And I know that we kind of have to ignore each other sometimes because we don’t want people to know about us, but I just always wish that I could be joking around with you too. I have so much fun talking to you and being around you, and seeing other people having fun around you when I can’t is just annoying sometimes. It’s like I always want to be right next to you.”

You placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s cheek, making him meet your eyes. “I always want to be next to you too. And most of the time when I’m joking around with other people, I’m wishing that you were there too. But right now, we should get back to the others. It’ll be a miracle if we haven’t been caught on camera.”

“Oh I asked Anthony to make sure that no one would be paying attention to this side of the store.”

“Is that why he’s been yelling for the past few minutes?”

“He’s the best choice for a distraction, unfortunately.” You grinned at Sebastian as you wrapped your arms around him. Smiling back, he planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“That’s way too bold,” you scolded him. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s no way we would be able to explain that away if anyone saw. Way too many questions.”

You began to walk away, but Sebastian pulled you back to him. “Let them ask questions. The premiere is soon and they’ll have their answers then.”

“Oh they will?” You raised your eyebrows in mock confusion.

“Of course. When we go together. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a date.” The two of you smiled at each other and were about to lean in for a kiss when Anthony was suddenly pulling Sebastian away.

“Break it up, lovebirds. I thought I was providing a distraction so you two could make up, not so you could make out. Now come on, Sebastian. We need to take a picture with that Spiderman statue outside.”

Sebastian gave you a shrug as Anthony dragged him outside. You rolled your eyes at their antics, then followed the rest of the cast as they began to make their way outside and back to the bus. You had stopped to admire Benedict’s drawing skills when Lizzie was suddenly clutching your arm and squealing. She, of course, had seen everything, though she assured you that everyone had tried their best to be as entertaining as possible on the other side of the store, so that no cameras would be on you.

You wore a smile for the rest of the tour. Lizzie kept teasing you every time you and Sebastian would sneak glances at each other. Not that you could really sneak glances when you had to turn around constantly to look at him. Once again, you got way too into the singalong. This time, Sebastian yelled encouragement at you as you sang off key.

By the time you reached the studio again, you had decided that this was really the best way to do a press tour. You waved goodbye to James and Hemsworth and you climbed off the bus. Before you could take more than a few steps, Sebastian had picked you up and was spinning you around.

“How have you two not spilled the beans yet?” Paul asked as everyone watched in amusement.

“You weren’t even being subtle at the comic shop,” Benedict pointed out.

“Y’all are lucky that the cameras love me so much that they weren’t looking at you,” Mackie joked.

Apparently, the cameras didn’t love Mackie as much as he thought. When the video came out, some eagle eyed fans spotted the two of you looking cozy in the background of a shot. Some people argued that it was impossible to say for certain that it was you and Sebastian, but your Twitter and Instagram notifications were full of people asking if you and Sebastian were dating.

The two of you decided to ignore the questions. Lucky for you, Marvel made it very clear to all of the interviewers that there should be no questions about anyone’s personal lives. All focus was to be on the movie. So you kept the fans guessing until the two of you showed up to the premiere arm in arm.

Unfortunately, there were plenty of people more focused on your relationship than on the movie, so there were plenty of articles about the two of you. Apparently, you were Marvel’s new power couple. As long as you had Sebastian, that was a title you could live with.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #marvel one shot #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan oneshot

275 notes · View notes

ask-2p-hetaliaaa · 3 years ago

Note

What would the 2ps do as youtubers?

2ps as youtubers:

Allen: Would be one of those fake ghost hunters that makes it onto Nuke's Top 5s.

"GUYS, GUYS, OHHH MYYY GODDD GUYYSSS,..... I THINK THAT WAS THE GHOOOSSTTT?? *pans to matt in a white sheet*"

Matt: Would upload funny out-of-context 5 second clips of his friends every 7 months. Gained popularity as a "top ironic humor figure"

Francois: His whole gimmick is staring into the camera for minutes on end without talking. People use him in reaction memes.

Oliver: Makes cooking videos, but in the style of Ted Nivision and twomad thanks to Allen's help with editing. Sometimes he swears in his videos, and when he does, his loyal following goes INSANE in the comments

Viktor: Makes audiobooks that peoples use as asmr to sleep. People who like Russian accents often flock to his videos as well

Xiao: Makes weed and vape reviews and 'hot boxes'; he collabs with matty smokes.

"WE'RE ABOUT TO HIT A FUCKIN OVER 9000 UHHHH DECIMIBITEABLES PUFF *coughing and gagging in mandarin*"

Luciano: Makes reviews of movies and games that have mafias and gangs. Is absolutely brutal in these critiques.

Flavio: Does makeup tutorials, fashion showcases, shopping vlogs, etc. Would basically be like the Lunch Club if it were full of drag queens

Lutz: Makes really obnoxious yet entertaining vlogs doing stupid shit around his country. Says offensive shit in a joking way that everyone is fine with. Has probably held illegal meetups in a mcdonalds

Kuro: "extreme japanese apoligizing" - makes videos along the lines of that, basically clowning on his own culture. occasionally makes anime reviews.

Gillen: Makes gaming videos out of his twitch streams. Sometimes Roland will just be walking in the background and go "Hi!!" and the chat will not shut up about him for next 2 minutes

Roland: He's like Sam O Nella Academy but Austrian- He'll mainly make parody videos of ww1 and ww2 because we all know the funny ww1 and 2 austria jokes. Since he can play guitar, he adds bits inspired by bill wurtz that are just jingles, ends up being used in memes

Andres: Uploads pirated, obscure Spanish music with blank descriptions and no other context

Egil: twomad videos, basically. everything he posts feels like adhd personified, at random points the video will go 200x speed and back to normal its chaotic

Loki: Is a prank channel, but actually funny because his pranks are "lets set shit on fire until the police get involved"

Denmark: His gimmick is making fun of Francois and trying to beat him in subscribers, but Francois doesn't even know he has a channel. People meme in a bad way like "look at this dumbass"

Bernard: Makes commentary videos like Memeulous and James Marriott, has an ongoing joke of making fun of the 1ps (in a friendly way). at random points a picture of Berwald will pop up with the vine boom sound effect

Thurston: Screams into his camera about things that make him mad, a bunch of teenage girls stan him because they think he's hot and relatable. He then made a video screaming about how much he hates his fanbase, which didn't help at all. It only attracted Bernard's fans who clowned on him

Hermes: Makes videos explaining the lore of Greek Mythology, in a girl-talk sort of way. He tried making true crime videos but kept putting his opinions in which nearly got him canceled.

Caligula: Too old to use youtube. Only has an account to like Luciano's videos.

Germania: Also too old to use youtube. But he does comment on the germanic countries videos with things like "LETS FUCKING GOOO"; has become the Justin Y. of 2p comment sections

Leonas and Franciszek: Have a couples channel that people HATE because they act so fake that it's dreadfully annoying. Has had videos made about them by Bernard, Lutz and Flavio

Anastasia: Makes videos about self-care for both men and women, similar to channels like Sexplanations. Also makes videos teaching young adults to cook simple meals, how to do unique hairstyles using wigs of different lengths and textures, how to have a clean house (making beds, doing laundry, organizing cabinets and fridges), etc. Has a large following of people who genuinely appreciate her work and motivation

Katya: Uploads vertical phone videos of her at casinos drinking champagne, playing darts, winning slot machines, etc

Egor: Similar to SomeOrdinaryGamers. Browses the deep web on his AmogOS system he made.

Raimonds: Viktor doesn't allow him to have a youtube channel

Paul: Takes videos of him rolling down hills and making fun of people at his school. Luckily doesn't gain much traction because people would definitely cyber bully him. Most of the adult 2ps have an agreement to not mention him in their videos lest their followers go after him

Wy: Takes behind the scenes videos of Oliver's videos; Her following is basically just Oliver's following who think she's his daughter (she's not) (This rumor caused a huge scandal within the Ollie simping twitter community)

Romeo: Doesn't have youtube, has TikTok and makes shitty e-boy thirst traps and POVs. Bernard wears his merch as satire in his videos.

#2ptalia #2p hetalia #ask 2p hetalia #asks #all of them #textposts #headcanons

30 notes · View notes

thestangossip · 3 years ago

Note

So true about the toxic nature of fandoms and feeling like they have claim to their actors or whomever they're a fan of.

The Benedict and wife shit sounds particularly insane.

Jensen and Daneel actually seem like a horrible couple on both ends. Guess they've admitted to cheating on one another and she even pressured (maybe even tricked) him into having the twins. Sounds like a mess but conveniently his fans only hold her accountable.

Same with Ale. She's a horrible person but Sebastian's stans are saying she's the cause of his awful behavior, conveniently forgetting that the people he gets closest to are of beyond questionable nature (Toby, Paul, Don, etc... And no, he and Mackie are not actually that close outside of work). He also is completely in control of his blatant refusal to abide by international rules around COVID after hypocritically blasting other partiers. If the rumor of them having COVID last year is true, he directly contributed to the spread of the pandemic with his reckless traveling. Ale should be held accountable for her actions too, but people are acting like he's actually under control by Hydra or something. That once they break up (which they think will be soon when this mythical contract ends) he'll be his same old puppy dog self they claim he really is. Can't forget they get mad when she posts a pic of him or eludes to being with him. He's her boyfriend, wtf do they expect? Plus their reactions prob fuel her narcism and only enhance her social media exposure.

Fandoms and their bs undermine any real critique of awful people, losing them in the fog of haters and jealous fans. And women always seem to get held to a different standard.

God I never should have mentioned the supernatural boys...

Listen I am not saying ANY of these couples are perfect or that they are non problematic. But NOBODY is forcing anyone to do anything. All these people are adults and know how to use birth control. And if cheating occurred and he's still with her... that's something THEY worked out personally and really not our concern.

Nobody needs to save this guy from his wife. If he wants to get up one day and divorce her, he will.

But you are point with Sebastian and yes they most likely directly contributed to the spread of covid. I am disgusted by both, and by the wealthy in general. They literally have blood on their hands. They chose to go out when they had the option (and not everyone did) to stay inside.

And you're right because of how insane fandoms are we can't truly critique the behavior. If I blog all day about how much Sebastian's behavior during the pandemic annoys me I will get asks that are either white knighting him (he didn't WANT to travel he was forced) or I get a shit ton of comments about Alejandra (Mainly how she's Covid Barbie) or about how both of them did NOTHING wrong. None of which offer any productive conversations. Sebastian handled the pandemic like an entitled asshole and quite frankly I'm shocked anyone is still a fan of his. He showed his colors. What he cares about is himself, fuck the rest of the world. Which is infuriating and yeah why I don't like talking about him that much anymore. I don't have a lot of positive things to say about him personally. I think what he did during the pandemic was so disgusting and I really hope one day he realizes not every single person who hated what he did was because they were jealous haters. It was because we were watching our loved ones die or lose jobs and livelihoods due to something completely out of our control.

#mod belle #anonymous

7 notes · View notes

tra-sh · 5 years ago

Text

Paul Lahote x reader (Twilight)

Request from Anon: “Hi, could you maybe do Paul from Twilight where you're friends with the Cullens and Bella makes you meet the wolf pack and Paul imprints? Maybe gets jealous too? Female pronouns please xx"

Full disclosure, don't hate me, I've never read the books. I saw the first movie when it came out but I' a bit rusty on the characters, so I hope I did them justice!

Part 2 Here

In the eyes of the world, you were a curious thing.

Well, maybe not the world, but definitely the people around you. After all; not just anyone gets to sit with the Cullen siblings at lunch. Not just anyone can make Rosalie laugh or Edward crack a smile.

There was no doubt that in the eyes of the teenagers of Forks, you were an enigma. There was no shortage of rumors about the strange girl who had wormed her way into the exclusive clique of ethereal beauties. But as frustratingly mysterious as you appeared to be, no one could hate you. You were far too kind and trusting to attract negative attitudes. This is why when Bella made the executive decision to force the Cullen’s into the wolf pack's good graces, she brought you.

Though the Cullen’s weren't allowed in the vicinity, Bella figured that if the wolves could trust you, maybe they could begin to trust your close friends. You were extremely adept at social gatherings and made a point to introduce yourself to everyone in the room. Your general attitude is warm and inviting-- surely this meeting would go smoothly if you were there, Bella hoped.

Because of this, you found yourself sitting shotgun in Bella's truck as it rattles down the old dirt road. You stole glances at the brunette every so often, noting her tense features. "Relax, Bells," you say after a moment of silence. "I'm sure it'll all be fine."

You hadn't known her for very long, but any friend of the Cullen's was a friend of yours. The two of you really only spoke when she was at their house looking for Edward or at school. You'd made a point to try to get to know her better over the past few months, to bring her out of her shell ever so slightly.

You watch as her shoulders relax slowly, her eyes never leaving the road. "I'm more worried about Jake's friends," she mumbles. You've never met Sam Uley's gang, but you knew what they were. Or rather, Alice had explained to you what they were.

You hum quietly as you look back out the window at the passing trees. Bella veered off down a slightly overgrown path that barely passed as a road, save for a worn trail of tire marks in the weeds. A wooden house came into view and you could just barely see the glow of a bonfire flickering from the backyard.

You smile to yourself as the truck comes to a halt a few yards away. Bella turns to unbuckle her seatbelt and gives you an anxious smile. "Here's to a good night," she says hopefully. You give her a reassuring grin before turning to exit the vehicle. You couldn't wait to meet everyone.

You sidle up to Bella as the two of you make your way to the white front door. You take in the peeling paint of the house and garage as you walk. The house is old but gives off a cozy and inviting feeling. The surrounding pine trees almost hide it from view and make you think of a witch's cottage or something from a fairy tale.

You hear the hinges of the door squeak as a tall boy with dark hair and tanned skin greets the two of you. "Hey, you made it!" He looks between the two of you, slightly skeptical of your presence.

You smile and step forward, your hand outstretched.

"Hey, you're Jacob, right? I'm [Name]," you say politely.

Jacob seems pleased and reaches over to shake your hand. "Any friend of Bella is welcome," he says after looking you up and down. He turns away and opens the door wider, allowing the two of you to step inside.

The house smells of sage and sandalwood and has numerous artifacts lining the walls. You can't help the grin that dances over your lips as you take in your surroundings. Jacob leads you and Bella through the kitchen to the back door.

"Everyone's waiting around the bonfire."

There's a twinkle in his eye when he looks at Bella, and you can't help but wonder if there was something between them at one point. No wonder Edward didn't want to come, you muse.

As you step outside into the lush backyard you're greeted by a few nonchalant 'hello's and silent nods. You're not sure if they're directed at you or Bella, but you smile all the same.

Five boys are sitting around the bonfire, not paying attention as you walk down the steps. One boy stands next to an older man outside of the circle, with two girls.

"Emily!" Bella passes by you to go greet one of the girls in question.

Jacob stands by your side and points at each member of the pack, listing them by name. "The ones sitting are Jared, Quil, Embry, Seth, and Paul," he begins. "The girl with the permanent frown is Leah, Emily's with Bella, and Sam is with my dad."

You nod as he relays the names and hope you can remember all of them. "Are they all..?" You trail off, unsure of how to ask. "Wolves?" Jacob interjects. Your face flushes lightly and you nod. "Emily isn't," he clarifies.

You suddenly feel like the odd one out all over again, the same way you felt when you'd first met the Cullen’s.

The boy standing away from the fire, Sam, makes his way over to you. You straighten your posture and try to not look too intimidated. "Hi, are you Sam?" You ask. He nods in response but doesn't make a move to shake your hand.

"Sam Uley. I assume Jacob introduced you to my pack."

Your hand falls limp at your side and you try to pluck up a friendly smile. "More or less. I've yet to actually talk to them," you joke. Sam gives you a curt nod and turns to look at the other boys. "I wanted you here tonight to make sure of something," Sam begins. He turns back to you with a firm stare, and you frown. "What's that?"

Sam exchanges a look with the boy standing next to you, and you can feel Jacob shift awkwardly under the scrutiny of the stare. "I'm not sure how much you've been told, but our ancestors and the Cullen family have a treaty," Sam states. You nod slowly. You knew the basics of the treaty; they weren't allowed to bite humans or trespass on the wolves' territory unless invited. "We wanted to ensure that treaty hasn't been broken."

You freeze and stare at the boy before you. Surely, he isn't suggesting what you think he is?

"Are you asking me if I'm still human?"

"Please understand where I'm coming from," Sam says calmly. You study him carefully, before letting out a small sigh. You should have known there was an alternative motive for this meeting.

"The Cullen’s wouldn't harm me, and I can assure you I'm still painfully normal."

Sam seems pleased with this answer and nods to you before turning around and assuming his place by the bonfire. "Sorry about that," Jacob mutters. "We just needed to be sure." You give him a reassuring smile and place your hand on his arm. "It's alright, really," you promise. The boy cracks a small grin and leads you over to the bonfire to properly introduce you to the pack.

As you approach the bonfire, one of the taller boy's scrunches his face in mock disgust.

"It smells like a leech," he says in a loud tone. The other boys snickered amongst themselves.

You roll your eyes and sit down in a lawn chair as Jacob takes the seat next to you. The boy who made the joke was smirking like the cat that ate the canary until his eyes met yours.

His snarky follow-up comment died on his tongue as he stared at you. Your brows knit together in confusion, wondering why the sudden change of heart. He looked at you like a desert traveler would an oasis. You tear your eyes away from him to look over at Jake.

"I didn't think I smelled that bad," you joke lightly.

"Paul didn't mean anything by it," one of the boys speaks up. You think this one is Seth, if you're not mistaken. Another one of them, Quil, nods in agreement. "You smell good!" You snort at his affirmation. "Thank you?" That was certainly one of the stranger compliments you've received.

Paul suddenly growls at Quil who then shies away in fear. The boys fall silent as they stare at Paul, but no one dares to speak. You look over to Jacob, who only shrugs. "So," you begin, drawing their attention once more. "What do you guys usually do around here?"

"You're looking at it," Embry pipes up, gesturing to the bonfire. You raise a brow and lean forward in your chair. "Sit around a fire and make fun of people?"

Paul seems to shrink back at your comment.

"The mocking is optional," Quil says with a smirk, jutting out his elbow to bump Paul. The taller boy sneers but makes no further comment. "What about you?" Embry asks as they turn to look at you. "I didn't take those bloodsuckers to be the nurturing type."

You purse your lips at him and he smiles apologetically. "They're nice when you get to know them," you say.

Paul scoffs, causing you to look over. "As nice as monsters can be, sure," he mutters. "Excuse me?" You ask, frowning. What was his problem? As far as you knew, the Cullen's hadn't done anything to earn such biting words. Paul avoids your gaze and crosses his arms over his chest. "I think you heard me."

His words hang in the air and poison the atmosphere, making the yard fall silent. Sam and Mr. Black are glancing your way with disapproving looks. You glance around at the other boys as they shift awkwardly in their seats.

"Right," you mumble under your breath. "I'll leave you alone."

Paul's head snaps up as you stand from the chair. He gives you a kicked puppy look, as if he wants you to stay. You're beginning to get whiplash from his changing moods.

You turn away from the bonfire and make your way over to where Bella and Emily stand, next to the back door of the house. "What did you do to Paul?" Bella asks, brows knit together. You let out a huff and fold your arms over your chest. "I didn't do anything," you say defensively. "He was being rude, so I left. I'm not going to stick around and listen to someone insult me." Emily gives you a knowing smile and peers over your shoulder at the bonfire. "You know what they say about little boys who pull pigtails," Emily begins. "It means they like you."

You're about to attest her suggestion when you feel a warm hand grab your shoulder. You look over to see Quil standing next to you, offering a small smile. "Hey, sorry about Paul. We really do want to get to know you better," he says. He nods politely to Bella and she gives him a small wave.

You let your arms relax and fall back to your sides as you turn towards the boy next to you. "I'm not mad, Quil. I just didn't feel like he wanted me there." Quil gives you a tight-lipped smile and glances nervously over his shoulder. "Well, that's the thing," Quil starts. "He might want you there a little too much."

Before you can ask him to explain, a familiar growl echoes through the yard. "Quil!" You feel the hand on your shoulder stiffen as you peer over at the bonfire. "Move your hand or I'll rip it off," Paul seethes.

You clench your fists and move so that you're standing in front of Quil. "What's your problem?" You ask, glaring at the angry boy before you. Paul ignores you, his eyes trained on the boy behind you. "Don't defend me," Quil hisses. "It'll make it worse!"

Paul takes a step forward and you instinctively reach back, your arm stretched across Quil's chest in a protective fashion.

Paul did not like this one bit.

His body shudders and his nostrils flare as he fights the urge to transition. Quil reaches over and grabs you before calling out: "Sam!"

Sam rushes forward, using a demanding tone to order Paul to calm down. Paul winces, but you can see his muscles rippling still as his anger keeps him teetering on the edge of shifting. Quil pulls you back toward the house with Bella and Emily close behind.

Paul bares his teeth and roars, sending a shiver down your spine. What was going on?

Quil shuts the door and turns to you. "You need to leave, now. He's not calming down." He throws nervous looks at the white door as he speaks. Bella paces the kitchen, her brown eyes flitting between you and the backyard. "He didn't, did he?" She asks.

The silence that follows is all she needs as a response. Bella looks at you with newfound shock, and you suddenly feel left out.

"He did what?" You ask. Did they know something you didn't? "What did he do?" You ask again, stepping forward.

Emily stands next to you and places her hand gently on your back, rubbing small circles. "It's hard to explain," she begins. Suddenly, Sam comes barging into the house. "Where is she?" His head whips around until he spots you. "You need to call the Cullen’s and have them pick you up from the reservation line," he demands. His tone gives you no room to argue and you fumble to get your phone from your pocket.

"What's going on?" You ask, your hands shaking. Why was no one telling you?

"The pack is keeping him at bay, but we don't have much time. Quil, make sure they get out safely," Sam instructs, ignoring your question. Bella hurries you to the front door as Quil follows.

You run to the truck and watch in shock when Quil shifts into a large dark grey wolf with brown streaks dappled in his fur. He shakes his head, his ears on high alert.

Bella slams the truck door shut, snapping you out of your trans. You shakily strap yourself in just as a splitting howl echoes through the air. You and Bella both look back at the house anxiously. Quil runs behind the truck, on the lookout for what you could only assume was Paul.

You nearly forget the phone sitting heavy in your hand as your eyes scan the passing forest. Your heart hammered in your chest as you turn to look at Bella.

"What's going on? Why is Paul so angry?" You ask quietly. You were growing sick of not knowing what was going on.

Bella glances nervously in the rear view mirror, her eyes trained on Quil. "The wolves, they have this thing called imprinting," here she pauses, trying to remember the way Jake had explained it. "It's like finding their soulmate."

You stare at the brunette, confusion written on your face. "Are you trying to tell me that a man I just met imprinted on me," you pause to gesture wildly at the woods, "And is now on a murder spree because Quil touched my shoulder?"

Bella would have laughed at your word choices if the situation were different.

"Like Emily said, it's hard to explain. Some of them handle it better than others."

You look out of the windshield and stare at the road. The sun is setting and the old truck's headlights do very little to illuminate the coarse dirt ahead of you. Before you can ask her what you're supposed to do with this sudden information, a silver wolf steps out into the road. "Bella, watch out!" You screech, fingers grasping for the handle to the right of your head. Bella slams on the break and the truck shudders to a sudden halt. Dust kicks up around the vehicle, momentarily clouding your view. Your heartbeat pulses in your ears, drowning out all other sounds. Your eyes search the road frantically, trying to spot the wolf.

"That," your throat constricts as you try to speak. "Who was that?" You're afraid to know the answer.

"Paul," Bella whispers, voice hoarse.

You see a large form dart out from behind the truck and loud snarls begin to echo from the road before you. "They're fighting!" You say, feeling panic bubble in your chest. Bella doesn't move, but instead fumbles for her phone. "I need to call Edward," she mutters. You stare back at the road as the dust blows away slowly, revealing the dueling animals. You can't sit by idly and watch as they all but destroy each other.

Your fingers tremble as you unbuckle your seatbelt, much to Bella's dismay. Before she can stop you, you're hopping down from the cab of the truck and stumbling towards the hulking wolves before you.

"Paul? Quil?" You ask, your voice betraying your fear.

As you push forward, you get a clearer view of Paul. His fur is a dazzling shade of silver and almost shines from the headlights. You would have been amazed if his teeth weren't digging into Quil's shoulder.

"Paul," you repeat, trying to sound more authoritative. This catches his attention and his head snaps up to look at you. Oh god. Well, you didn't think this through. Quil takes this chance to limp backward, giving the two of you space.

Paul's eyes are trained on you, calculating your every move. You swallow thickly and step forward, inching closer to him. "Paul?" Your voice is softer this time. His ears twitch as you approach, signaling to you that he was listening. "I'm not sure what all of this means," you continue. "But I'm not going to lie to you. I'm scared," you pause to gauge his reaction. If a wolf could frown, you were sure this is what it looked like. He looks almost upset at your confession, and you quickly backtrack.

"I think it would help if we could talk," you add.

He steps forward, and you do your best to not shrink back in fear. His nose presses against your arm and he snorts lightly. Your hand trembles as you bring it up, resting it on his head. "Good dog," you joke. Paul snorts again, giving you what you can only guess is an unamused look.

"Can we talk?" You ask gently. He seems hesitant to leave your touch, but after a moment he steps back. You glance over to Quil, who slinks away into the trees. The wolf before you shudders, and the sound of bones popping fills your ears. You cringe at the noise and look away as Paul slowly returns to his human form. Before you turn back, Paul stops you. "Give me a second," he says a bit awkwardly. He shuffles away into the woods before you can respond. Curiously, you glance over to his fleeting form before turning away with wide eyes. He was naked. Very, very naked. And you saw everything.

You try to shoo the thoughts from your head and focus on the dirt beneath your shoes. You hear soft footsteps and turn back, seeing a now-clothed Paul approaching you nervously. He scratches the back of his head as he makes his way back over to you. "Can we go somewhere private?" He asks in a low tone. You glance over at the truck sitting in the road and nod. "Sure."

You follow the boy down into the woods, stopping at a fallen tree. You note a neat pile of clothes tucked away in a little crook of the log and chuckle lightly. They must leave these around for when they phase.

Paul sits beside you, his eyes darting over to you every so often. He looks like he has so much he wants to say to you, and maybe he does. After everything you just experienced, you could use a bit of an explanation.

"I'm sorry," he mutters finally. "I didn't mean for any of that to happen." His leg bounces nervously as his eyes refuse to meet your gaze.

"I have anger problems, and I just didn't know how to handle all of this."

You nod slowly and turn to glance back up at the road. Bella's truck was still in view, and she was no doubt waiting nervously to see if you were alright.

"This is all really sudden," you say quietly.

"It usually is," Paul says, thinking back to when Sam and Embry first imprinted. He couldn't explain his feelings to you; he couldn't even explain them to himself. All it took was Quil laying a single hand on your body and all rational thought flew out the window. He just wanted-- needed-- you near him. "So, what happens now?" You ask, bringing Paul back from his thoughts. He wanted to hold you, to cradle you in his arms and kiss you. But he knew this was just the imprinting part of his brain talking. The two of you had met less than an hour ago, and he didn't want to scare you off. He settles for a brief, "Whatever you want."

You hum quietly as you stare at the leaf-covered grass beneath your feet. This definitely was sudden. But there was a sort of calming presence around Paul that pulled you in and left you wanting more. Which was ironic given his lack of control. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing-- the concept of soulmates and all. It would definitely take some time to get used to, but you didn't feel repulsed at the idea.

"We could take this slow," you offer quietly.

Paul's body language oozes relief as he finally looks over to you. "We can?" The hopeful lilt to his tone almost makes you giddy.

“Is that alright?" You wonder, looking up to meet his gaze. His warm brown eyes are captivating and he gives you a boyish grin. "More than alright," he assures you. He inches closer to you and you feel the warmth pooling off him in waves. His fingers brush yours lightly, looking for silent permission.

You lift your hand and allow him to cradle it in his large, calloused one. His touch is hot, but not uncomfortable. It warms you to your core and you can't help but lean into his side. Paul brings your hand up carefully and places a light kiss to the back of your hand. This was definitely going to take some getting used to.

But in this moment with him, you couldn't see yourself anywhere else.

#paul lahote #twilight #twilight saga #paul lahote x reader #reader insert #fanfic #twilight x reader #wolfpack #cullens #request

474 notes · View notes

iamtrebleclefstories · 4 years ago

Text

I Was Made For Loving You - Part 3

Soulmate AU series of unrelated one-shots where Jo and Alex discover that they are made for each other.

where you have a clock counting down the minutes

Please enjoy this insanely long monstrosity of a fic :)

Part 3 - I Was Made for Loving You

The day his clock showed up, he was excited. At the age of thirteen, he’d been a little older than most. For a while, he didn’t think he had a soulmate. Most other kids got their clocks at twelve years old. Yet on his twelfth birthday, when he woke up and saw his empty wrist he was disappointed to see that his hadn’t. No, instead his clock showed up on a random Tuesday morning, about four months after his thirteenth birthday. His excitement was short-lived though. Because according to his clock, he wouldn’t meet his soulmate for at least two decades.

20:05:17:6:49

Twenty years, five months, seventeen days, six hours, and forty-nine minutes away to be exact. He’d be thirty-three by the time he met the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. This didn’t sit right with Alex. He’d thought for sure the universe would favor him considering he’d had the crappiest childhood. The least the universe could do was grant him a soulmate sooner than twenty years from now.

It was frustrating when he got to college and it felt like everyone he knew was meeting their soulmate. It was even more frustrating when he got to medical school and the majority of his friends were in nice, loving, soul-bonded relationships while he was out partying and sleeping around. He’d never admit it, but as fun as sleeping around was, all Alex had ever wanted was the sureness and clarity of a soulmate bond. His whole life, he wondered what it was like to be loved for exactly who he was. He wondered what it was like to have someone stay. He wondered what it was like to have someone sane. The partying and the girls just so happened to serve as a useful distraction for the fact that he was years away from meeting the one person who just might stick around.

When he started working at Seattle Grace, he didn’t do much to change who he was. If anything, he was worse than before. With only seven years, three months, five days, ten hours, and thirty-six minutes left to meet his soulmate, Alex was growing even more restless. He couldn’t handle the idea of walking around the hospital as all of his friends met their soulmates before he did. Meredith had already met her’s, Izzie’s clock said that she was three months away, Cristina’s clock said one year left, and George’s said two years.

There wasn’t much time left for them to wait. The sad and funny thing was that some of his friends found themselves in relationships with someone other than their soulmate. Meredith was trying to get over McDreamy, Cristina was doing it with Burke, George was in love with Meredith, and Izzie had tried going out with him despite the fact that she was supposed to meet her guy very soon. It kind of sucked too, because he could see himself liking her enough to actually try something more than a one night stand.

Knowing that Izzie would be meeting her soulmate very soon didn’t make it much easier when she finally did. The guy came in the form of a bedridden cardiac patient who was on the brink of death. If Alex thought the universe was screwed up for making him wait so long to meet his soulmate, it was even more screwed up for giving Izzie a soulmate that might not live past his next surgery. That was all kinds of messed up and shitty that he didn’t even want to go into. As horrible as it sounded though, he hoped that maybe Izzie’s soulmate would kick the bucket and die. Then maybe he’d have a chance at something more than just meaningless.

And they did get the chance at it. Denny died and Izzie was a wreck. She ended up making some questionable decisions, got George to cheat on his wife—but not his soulmate—with her, and nearly got herself fired multiple times over. Alex on the other hand, had lived through a hookup with Addison Montgomery, a strange—regrettable—relationship with a patient by the name of Rebecca Pope, and had even hooked up with Meredith’s sister Lexie a couple times. So when they finally got together, Alex thought that this could be it. Maybe it could be enough. Maybe Izzie could be enough for him, and he could be enough for her.

Things didn’t go as planned, though. Izzie got cancer and started hallucinating Denny. So they got married and tried to make the best out of a bad situation, then George died on the very day he was supposed to meet his soulmate—saving her life apparently. He doesn’t know if it was the cancer or the soul bond that attached her to Denny that caused it or even her friendship with O’Malley, but one morning he woke up and she didn’t. Alex woke up and turned around to shake Izzie awake, but she wouldn’t wake up. Her body was cold. She’d died sometime in the middle of the night and he never noticed.

That stuck with him for a long time. He felt like he should’ve been able to save her. He was a doctor for crying out loud. A doctor whose wife died in her sleep as he laid right beside her. He was a widower now and it was hell. His heart ached and he became a bigger asshole than before. And hence started the string of endless women all over again. He tried to date Lexie Grey, and it worked for a little while. But then the shooting happened and Lexie went crazy and Alex was trying to understand how he survived and so many others didn’t. He added that to his laundry list of failed attempts at love.

Then there was Lucy—the one who stole his job. After that he gave up on trying to have a real relationship. He realized it was pointless to try making a connection with someone that wasn’t soulmate. All it brought was hurt and pain that he didn’t have the patience for. He slept around again, waiting for the moment when he’d finally meet his soulmate and maybe, just maybe, he search would be over.

The week before he was supposed to meet his soulmate, he decided to take advantage of the little bit of time he had left and slept with a lot of the new interns. Sure, he felt a little bad every time he looked down at his wrist, but he was trying to brace himself for the worst case scenario. The worst case scenario being that his soulmate hated him or that she was a horrible person and they didn’t work out. If his worst fears came true he wanted to at least have something to soften the blow. It may sound depressing, but that’s how it worked. And Alex had been through enough in his life to know that life was rarely ever fair or full of hope.

*****

She was sixteen when her clock finally showed up on her wrist. For the longest time, she thought that maybe there just wasn’t someone out there for her. Most kids got their clocks at twelve years old. They’d wake up the morning of their twelfth birthday to find a clock there counting down the years, months, days, hours, and minutes until one met their soulmate. She tried to tell herself not to be discouraged. After all, she’d been left at a fire station as an infant. Who knows when her real birthday was? So, for about two weeks she held onto the tiniest bit of hope that one day she’d wake up and it would be there.

When the clock didn’t come in, it only reinforced everything she’d ever believe about herself. That she was unlovable. She was broken. She was unwanted. She was a waste of space. Those feelings intensified when her peers realized that her clock was missing. They made up mean jokes and rumors about soulmate-less Brooke. It was so bad that the family she’d been staying with at the time sent her away. They didn’t want a “defective” child in their home.

For about four years, she wore long sleeves. She didn’t want anyone to see her wrist. She didn’t want to see her own wrist and be reminded of the fact that she had no one in this world. That’s why it was such a surprise when her clock showed up on her wrist.

She remembered the day vividly. It was four in the morning and she’d been attempting to get some sleep while she heard the junkies talking outside her car. She’d just burrowed a little further into her blankets in an effort to cover herself so that no one would realize she was living there when she felt it. There was a dull ache in her wrist and then the sound of a clock chiming. After the sounding stopped, she was scared to look down. She was scared to look and realize that it had all been a figment of her imagination.

It wasn’t though. It was definitely there. The clock displayed the numbers brightly on her wrist for all to see. The countdown to meeting her soulmate was there. It was real. She had someone. For the first time in her life she thought that maybe she’d have someone. But when she realized the number of years before she’d meet him, she grew discouraged. Ten years was a long time. A very long time.

10:02:30:8:57

Of course she’d have to wait a decade to meet her soulmate. As if her life wasn’t already difficult, as if she didn’t need for someone to love her right now. Maybe that’s why she got caught up with Paul in the first place. She just wanted so badly for someone to love her that she ended up in an abusive marriage for about two years before she did something about it.

Of all the decisions she’d made in her life, getting with Paul was the worst one. He was harsh and hateful and deceptively charming. He’d told her exactly what she wanted to hear and she believed him. She ate up every false promise and calculated compliment. Her friends had not been happy with her, but she didn’t care. They told her to wait, to hold out for her soulmate, but Brooke wasn’t sure she believed in them anymore.

Paul didn’t have a soulmate. He was one of the very few people in the world that didn’t have a clock at all. He’d convinced her that it was all a fantasy. A childish daydream that would soon fade away like everything else in the world. For the most part, she believed him.

A part of her tried to hold on to the hope that maybe there was someone better for her out there than Paul. It all changed when she became a mother, though. The only thing that was supposed to be stronger than a soul bond was the bond between parents and their children. She could not possibly understand how or why her mother had abandoned her like she did. She couldn’t comprehend how you’d let go because the moment she held her child in her arms, she knew that she’d never be able to give this up.

The road to motherhood wasn’t easy, though. It was full of pain and suffering and complications she’d never anticipated. Originally, she wasn’t going to keep the baby. She had decided that after being beaten so bad that she had landed in the hospital. There was no way she could raise a child in the environment she was living in. For weeks, she walked around fearful of the decision that was looming over her. One day, while she was in the car with Paul they got into a horrible accident. She’d made it out mostly okay. Paul on the other hand sustained a severe injuries and was declared dead on arrival.

The death of her husband was not sad for her. If anything, it was liberating. She was a pregnant senior in college and suddenly inherited all of his money and his property. Of course, she was alone again, but for the first time in her life loneliness didn’t seem as daunting. As soon as she graduated with her degree in biology, she sold the house, their rings, and all of Paul’s belongings and hauled ass out of New Jersey.

She was about seven months pregnant when she finally moved into her brand new apartment in Boston. For a while after moving, she grappled with her identity. She didn’t want anything tying her to the life she’d left behind. She didn’t want her child to bear the legacy of hurt and pain that she’d left. Brooke Stadler didn’t feel like her anymore. That name was attached to the despair that she vowed to leave behind for the sake of the life she was about to bring into the world.

It was during one quest for baby names when she stumbled upon one that resonated with her. Josephine, God will increase. Jo, for short. Yes, that was it. No more standing back and letting people take advantage of her. She would increase. She would grow so tall that she would make a fool out of anyone who ever said she would never be enough.

So, she became Josephine. A last name would be a little more difficult. Jo knew that she didn’t want to keep the last name Stadler. She briefly considered Schmidt—after her high school teacher whom she had kept in contact with, but decided against that. She settled on Wilson. It was the name of the chief of the fire station where she’d been left as a child. That was it. That was her name. Josephine Brooke Wilson.

Her name change was approved about a week before she gave birth to her son on July 16, 2007. Yes, she had a boy. A little boy with the sweetest dimples and the craziest head full of hair. He had her eyes and her nose and her ears. Jo fell in love with him instantly. At twenty-two years old she became a mother to the most beautiful baby boy she’d ever laid eyes on.

She named him Liam Michael Wilson. Liam was a good baby, and she was grateful for that. It was difficult raising a child on her own while simultaneously trying to do well in med school. Harvard Medical School, to be specific. In the mornings she’d drop Liam off at daycare and pick him up after her classes were over. Her life consisted of going to school, being a mom, and working part time at the daycare Liam attended. She didn’t go out or party. She didn’t sleep around or start anything serious. There was no time and she definitely did not have the motivation to try harder.

On the day of her medical school graduation, she walked across the stage hand in hand with her almost four year old son. She smiled wide and almost cried after her son told her how proud he was of her. She’d done it. She was finally a doctor.

And so began the next chapter of their lives. Jo had matched with Seattle Grace Mercy West’s surgical residency program. She was excited and nervous at the thought of moving across the country with her son. Her whole life, she’d lived on the east coast. It was time to leave this place and move on to the next thing.

*****

“Today’s the day,” Jackson walked into the attendings lounge and clapped Alex on the back.

“What’s today?” Webber asked as he poured himself some coffee.

“Today’s the day Evil Spawn gets to meet his soulmate,” Cristina supplied.

April gasped, “Oh my goodness! Finally.”

“Yeah it only took him thirty-three years,” Meredith snickered as she put her stuff into her locker.

"Awe, Karev is becoming a man today," Mark teased and slapped Alex on the shoulder.

“Maybe this means he’ll stop being an ass that sleeps with all the interns,” Callie called out from her spot on the couch.

“Oh shush. Might I remind you that you slept with me once. So, you're no better,” Alex sent Callie a pointed look.

“And now I no longer sleep with men,” Callie lifted her hands in mock surprise.

The room full of doctors laughed at Callie's comment. Alex on the other hand rolled his eyes, "Whatever. You guys are way too invested in this soulmate thing."

"Because we all already found ours. We want you to be happy. You of all people deserves something happy," Meredith smiled warmly at Alex. "So, stop complaining and let us be happy and excited for you."

Alex knew that his friends just wanted what was best for him. They'd been by his side through a lot of really crappy things. When his wife died, Meredith opened up her home again for him to stay. Cristina hugged him—which was a miracle in and of itself. Kepner and Avery, who he wasn't even close to made it very clear that they would be there for him if he needed it. So many more of his friends and colleagues did the same.

“How much time do you have left on your clock?” Bailey asked, trying to get as many details from Alex as possible.

Alex looked down at his clock and read the numbers. It was strange to see mostly zeros. For years, he’d seen the clock full of numbers counting down very slowly. Today though, it seems as if the time had flown by.

00:00:00:04:37

“Four hours and thirty-seven minutes,” Alex replied. “Which means that you all will be too busy doing your jobs to pay attention to me when I meet her. If this is even real and I meet her.”

Meanwhile, Jo was in the locker room with her fellow interns getting ready for the day. She had just taken off her shirt and was about to put her scrub top on when she heard Stephanie gasp and grab her arm, “Oh my God.

Today is the day. Guys, Jo meets her soulmate today!”

“Really?” Leah jumped up and squealed. “No why didn’t you say anything? We would’ve made a big deal about it.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t,” Jo removed her hand from Stephanie’s grasp and continued to get dressed for the day. “It’s not that big of a deal. Calm down.”

“Not that big of a deal?” Stephanie looked at her as if she had three heads. “Jo. This is a huge deal. This is it. This is the most important day of your life. Why aren’t you more excited about this?”

“Look, I’ve been burned one to many times in my life. It’s all a scam. It doesn’t mean anything,” Jo shook her head. “And it’s not the most important day of my life. The most important day of my life was the day I gave birth to my son. That’s the most important bond. It’s more important and stronger than a soul bond. So, unless my soulmate magically bonds with my son, then it’s meaningless.”

Shane looked at Jo sadly, “There’s nothing wrong with trying find your own version of happiness. You’re allowed to let yourself be loved.”

“Yeah,” Heather agreed. “You of all people deserves to meet their person.”

“How much time is left on your clock?” Leah asked.

Sighing Jo looked down and read it out loud, “Four hours and thirty-seven minutes.”

00:00:00:04:37

“I wonder who it is,” Heather tilted her head to the side. “You’d have to meet him here in the hospital. Maybe it’s another doctor or a nurse. Ooh! Maybe even a patient! I’ve heard a couple stories of a few doctors that used to work here before us that met their soulmates while they were patients in the hospital.”

“Gosh, I hope not,” Jo’s eyes widened. “I have a kid. I don’t have time to take care of a sick soulmate.”

“I highly doubt it’s going to be a patient,” Stephanie assured. “It’s probably one another doctor. Which doctors are still single?”

“Well, there’s Franklin from derm, Harrison from anesthesiology, that one guy Myers from OB, Johnson and Archer from Radiology, some others I don’t remember, and Karev," Leah replied.

"How do you even know that?" Jo made a face. "Actually, I don't want to know."

"She probably slept with all of them," Stephanie smirked.

Leah shrugged, "Hey, I don't meet my soulmate for two more years. I'm taking advantage of all the freedom I have left."

"No offense, but I don't want your sloppy seconds," Jo closed her locker and put on her lab coat. "I haven't had sex in... I can't even remember. But, I would still prefer it if my soulmate didn't sleep with all of my friends first."

"I don't know, I kind of hope my soulmate is a manwhore," Heather thought out loud. The others turned to look at her strangely. "What? I do. That means he'll be good in bed. That's important. I'm going to be stuck with him for the rest of my life. He's got to know what he's doing."

The interns busted out in laughter and chatted for a few more minutes before their resident, Lexie Grey walked in, “Hey guys. Today you all start new rotations so listen out for your assignments. Edwards you’re with Grey, Ross with Avery, Brooks with Bailey, Murphy with Robbins, and Wilson you’re with Yang.”

The interns nodded and all made their ways to find their attendings. Jo walked over to where Yang was standing in the Cardiac ICU and smiled warmly, “Dr. Yang, I’m on your service today.”

“Oh yes, Wilson right? I’ve heard some good things about you from Hunt and Torres. Make sure you keep up and don’t screw anything up,” Cristina instructed. “I’ve got things to do and lots of patients to see so there’s no time for messing around. Come on, before we’re late for rounds.”

The next few hours were okay. Jo mostly kept an eye on Yang’s pre and post ops while Yang worked on studying for a new procedure she was going to preform later that afternoon. The day was going by so smoothly that she forgot to take a look at her clock to see how much time was left. She was about to look down when she heard her pager go off, Pit 911. Jo jumped up from her seat at the nurse’s station and hurried down to the ER, Dr. Yang following close behind her.

They pulled on their trauma gowns and hurried into the trauma room they’d been paged to. The room was a buzz with multiple doctors from various specialties looking at a kid who seemed to be somewhere around eleven or twelve. Derek Shepherd was there, Kepner was there, Torres was there, and Karev.

“What do we got?” Yang asked as she walked into the room.

“Brandon Miller, eleven years old. He jumped off a balcony while on a school field trip because his friends dared him to,” Karev sounded off, not looking up from the kid he was examining. “He’s got splenic rupture that I’m going to have go in and repair, wrist fracture, an injury to his spine that’s putting pressure on the cord, a few broken ribs and a pneumothorax. I need you to run an echo on his heart to see if he can even withstand the stress of surgery.”

For some reason, Jo’s heart rate picked up a little when she heard his voice. She’s seen Karev from afar, but in the past few months that she’d been working at Seattle Grace Mercy West, she’d never been on his service before. He seemed like a great doctor. She’d heard wonderful things about the projects he’d established and his dedication and commitment to his patients. She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Karev yell out instructions.

“Can someone insert a damn chest tube?”

Yang looked at Jo and motioned to get to work, “Wilson, you know how to insert a chest tube?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jo nodded.

“Okay, then do it. We don’t have time to waste,” Yang commanded.

Jo looked around the room for the supplies and was handed a tray by one of the nurses. She made her way up towards the kid and proceeded to insert the tube. She was about to move out of the way when bumped into Karev.

“Do you mind?” Karev sneered gave her a sideways glance. He didn’t have time for this. He wanted to get out of this trauma room as quickly as possible. He was supposed to meet his soulmate any minute now, and he couldn’t do that if he was stuck in here fixing a kid in a room full of all his friends. He couldn’t miss their encounter. He’d been waiting for this exact moment for decades and he’d be damned if he missed it because some intern was in his way.

“Sorry,” Jo apologized.

Alex felt a jolt of electricity run through him as he heard her voice. Looking up, he finally decided to spare more than a quick glance at the intern. Feeling that someone’s eyes were on her, Jo looked up and locked eyes with Karev. She felt her heart and breathing pick up, then skip a few beats, before returning to normal. Alex felt a stirring within his chest and stopped what he was doing to stare at her for just a moment.

That’s when the dinging started. It was a low chime sort of sound. It grew progressively louder and was getting on Alex’s nerves. He broke eye contact with the intern and looked around for the source of the noise. With all the commotion, he was unsure if anyone else heard it. He looked around at the monitors the kid had strapped to him, trying to determine what was going off.

“What the hell is that noise? Can someone please figure out what freaking monitor is making that weird noise and turn it off?” Alex growled in annoyance.

His request made the room go quiet, allowing everyone to hear for themselves exactly what was going on. Alex watched as one by one, all of his friends’ eyes widened in surprise. They looked at each other strangely, not saying anything.

“Will someone please turn that freaking monitor off?” Alex continued to work on stabilizing the kid’s injuries.

“Dr. Karev, that’s not one of the monitors,” nurse Tyler spoke, motioning to Alex’s clock that was covered by his trauma gown.

He stepped away from his patient and pulled up the sleeve of his trauma gown. His numbers were at zero. How the hell were his numbers at zero? When did he meet her? He’d been stuck in this room for the past half hour. He was in a room full of friends and veteran nurses he’d known for years.

Jo took a deep breath when she realized what happened. She removed her own sleeve and looked at the clock on her wrist. Sure enough, all zeros. Jo froze in fear and confusion as a steady ding came from her clock. After a couple seconds, she looked up at Karev who was still lost in thought.

There was a gasp somewhere in the background. It sounded like Kepner, “Oh. My. God.”

“Holy shit,” Yang’s voice rang out.

“Woah!” Torres exclaimed.

“I’ll be damned,” Shepherd chuckled.

A couple of the nurses mumbled their own surprise as Jo continued to stare at her supposed soulmate with wide eyes. Finally, after a few seconds, he looked up at her.

Jo felt it immediately. She felt the bond attach itself instantly. The thing that she’d convinced herself wasn’t real, the thing that seemed too much like a fairy tale to actually exist in real life, was happening to her. It all made sense. The shivers and butterflies she felt when she heard his voice. The heart palpitations she experienced and the sensation of breathlessness, were all her body’s way of syncing up their heart beats.

Alex couldn’t believe it. He did meet her. She was here. She was the intern he’d bumped into. He’d been so caught up and desperate to meet her that when he did, he missed it. But then it made sense. The jolt of electricity he felt when he heard her speak. The captivating call of her eyes. Her gorgeous, hazel eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever seen more beautiful eyes. The longer he looked into them, the more he felt the soul bond increase. It was strong, and unlike anything he’d ever really experienced before. It was instant and all consuming. It was real.

Soon, the dinging ceased. It was no longer needed. They had acknowledged each other. They had met.

*****

They never had a chance to talk after that moment. Brandon—the kid—began de-sating and needed to be rushed to the OR immediately. The echo he’d called Cristina in to run would have to wait. There was no time to waste, or he wouldn’t make it. It killed Alex to leave without being able to say anything to her. He wanted to get to know her and hear her story. He barely knew her name—and it was only because he asked while on his way to the OR with Torres, Kepner, and Shepherd. They hadn’t stopped talking about his soulmate throughout the entire time he was in the operating room. Thankfully, he and April were able to resolve the kid’s internal bleeding, leaving Shepherd and Torres to do the real work and try to keep Brandon from being paralyzed.

Alex wanted to find her. Jo Wilson. That was her name. He asked around before he was directed to the OR board. Sure enough, her name was listed as the resident in OR 4 with Cristina. In the hours he’d been in surgery, she’d been pulled into one of her own. Sighing, Alex decided that he could use this time to talk to someone. He needed to vent. He needed to find Meredith.

He ran around the hospital for about half hour before realizing where she was. Alex made his way to the hospital daycare and smiled as he showed his ID and walked to where Meredith was playing with Zola. Meredith was sitting on a bean bag chair while Zola was on the floor working on a puzzle. He hurried over to the corner they were in and sat in the bean bag chair across from Meredith.

“Dude, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“What is it Alex? I’m trying to spend what little free time I have with my daughter. Can it wait?”

“No, it can’t,” Alex rolled up the sleeve of his lab coat and showed her his arm. “I met her.”

“Oh my God!” Meredith gasped and dropped the barbie doll that was in her hand. “You met her? Who is she?”

“She’s an intern. Jo Wilson,” Alex shared. “I don’t really know a lot about her. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her because my patient needed to get up to the OR because he was de-sating on us.”

“Wilson is your soulmate?” Meredith’s eyes widened. “She was the intern I picked for the intern appy. She did really well until she freaked out and froze, but I think she’ll make it. You can normally tell who’s going to make it and who isn’t. She hasn’t given me any reason to believe otherwise. What are you doing here talking to me? Go find her.”

“I did try to find her. But then I found out she was in OR 4 with Cristina, who just so happened to be there when we met,” Alex grimaced.

Meredith let out a peel of laughter, “Oh, Cristina is never going to let you live it down. She’s probably airing out all your dirty laundry as we speak. Who knows what she’s told Wilson about you?”

Alex narrowed his eyes, “Oh shush. I sure hope not. I don’t need my soulmate thinking that I’m an ass before she even meets me.”

“Hey! There are children present. Language!” Meredith warned motioning to the children playing around them.

“You act as if I don’t work with children all day.”

Meredith rolled her eyes. Being friends with Alex really was a pain sometimes, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was happy for him. He’d finally met his soulmate. He was finally going to get the happiness he deserved. She just hoped that the universe knew what it was doing when it chose Jo Wilson as his soulmate, “Hold on… you said your soulmate is one of the interns?”

“Yeah? So what? You were an intern when you met Derek,” Alex shrugged. “It happens.”

“No, I know that. That’s not what I’m talking about,” Meredith shook her head. “Didn’t you sleep with half the intern class?”

“Oh crap… You don’t think she knows, right?”

“Are you kidding? Don’t you remember what it was like to be an intern? Gossip around here spreads like wildfire,” Meredith leaned back in her bean bag chair. “I’m positive she knows exactly how many of her friends you’ve slept with.”

“Which means she already knows how big of a douche I am,” Alex groaned. “You know, on some level, I always knew that being a man-whore was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”

Meredith was going to open her mouth to respond when they heard a crash followed by a child crying in the background. Being the peds surgeon that he was, Alex jumped up from his bean bag chair and scanned the room for the source of the crying. There was a young woman holding a boy who looked to be about four. He had a nasty head lac that would probably need stitches.

“Can someone get ahold of an intern to come take a look at this kid? And page his parents?” One of the daycare workers yelled out.

Not wanting an intern working on this kid’s face, Alex decided to step in, “Hey. No need to call an intern. I’m a peds surgeon. I’ll take a look at him and get him stitched up. You don’t need an intern leaving a nasty scar on his face. Just page his parents while I check him out.”

The daycare instructor, Bethany, nodded in appreciation and Alex walked them over to a nearby exam room. He asked a nurse to bring him a suture kit and had Bethany place the crying boy on the bed. The kid was cute. He had wild brown hair and big hazel eyes that looked up at him in awe and wonder, “Hey kiddo, my name is Dr. Alex. What’s yours?”

“Liam,” the little boy responded, the tears that had once been running down his face now dried.

For some reason, Alex felt a connection to this kid. He couldn’t explain it. Of course, he’d bonded with patients in the past, but this was different. He’d known this boy for all of two minutes and already felt his protective instincts kick in. Alex decided to try to make some conversation, “Well, hi Liam. I see that you hurt your head a bit there. Do you think you can follow some instructions that I give you?”

Liam attempted a nod but winced in pain a bit, “Yes Dr. Awex.”

Alex seriously did not know what was wrong with him. Every time this little boy opened his mouth, he felt the love and affection he had for him increase. What the hell is wrong you? He’s not even your kid. You find your soulmate and all of a sudden you are overwhelmed by the desire to procreate? Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Alex looked over to Bethany, “Can you go make sure one of his parents are on their way? I’m going to do a quick neuro exam and some stitches. They might want to be here for that.”

The two boys watched as Bethany nodded and walked out the room. Liam looked back up at Alex, “Is she getting my mommy?”

“Yeah buddy, she is. Now how about you say we make sure you didn’t hit your head too hard when you fell,” Alex proceeded to go about his exam while trying to divert Liam’s attention from the needles he was about to use to close up the head lac.

Meanwhile in OR 4, Jo had been trying her best to ignore the looks and questions Dr. Yang was sending her way. The first two hours had been mostly quiet, with Yang only speaking in order to teach or give instructions. Now that they were entering their third hour in surgery, Yang seemed to have loosened up a little bit, “Oh come on, give me something. You are Alex Karev’s soulmate, who just so happens to be one of my best friends. I care about him and I love him—if you ever say that I will deny it. What’s your story?”

This was getting tiring. All Jo wanted was to distract Yang long enough to stop asking questions. Jo was this close to giving in and answering Yang’s questions when a nurse rushed into the room, “Dr. Wilson, Ms. Bethany from daycare called to let you know that your son fell and sustained a head injury. He’s being checked out by a doctor in an exam room nearby the daycare. The doctor said that he’s okay, but he’s going to require some stitches.”

Jo looked up at the nurse with a panicked expression, “Oh my God. What the hell happened?”

“I’m not sure of all the details, but your son was requesting your presence.”

“Well that explains part of the story,” Cristina mumbled to herself. She looked over at the intern standing in front of her. “Go, take care of your kid. We’ll be okay here. Take the rest of the day off while you’re at it.”

“Thank you so much Dr. Yang,” Jo rushed out of the OR and scrubbed out quickly. She hurried out of the scrub room into the hallway and made her way to the elevators. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator to arrive.

As soon as she made it to the daycare, Jo asked for her son’s whereabouts. She had finally reached the door of the exam room when she heard a familiar peel of laughter on the other side. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that her son was laughing and steadied herself as she opened the door.

Alex had been having the time of his life stitching Liam’s head lac up. Sure, he was great with kids, his job required it. But spending time with this kid is different. Alex was sure that he’d never clicked with a kid as much as this one. And he was kind of hilarious. The four-year-old was very bright for his age and had a sense of humor better than most adults. In the fifteen minutes that had passed, Alex learned that he and Liam had the same favorite color (green), favorite ice cream flavor (s’mores), they even shared a middle name. On top of that they were both obsessed with babies—Alex was a peds surgeon and Liam said that he was constantly asking his mom when they would have a baby.

Alex had just promised to sneak Liam up to the hospital nursery when the door opened. With his back was to the door, Alex spoke to the parent he’d assumed had walked in, “Oh, hey. I’m Dr. Karev. I just was in the daycare visiting my niece when your son fell. He got a few stitches, but other than that he’s just fine.”

Finally turning around, Alex came face to face with his wide-eyed soulmate. Confused, he stared at her dumbly as she stood unmoving like a deer in headlights. The moment was broken when Liam look up and grinned, “Mommy!”

Breaking out of her trance, Jo looked up at the little boy sitting on the exam table, “Hey baby! I heard you took a fall in daycare. Are you okay?”

“Yup,” Liam nodded happily. “Dr. Awex fixed me up! He’s so funny, mommy. We wike wots of the same tings and he pwomised to take me to see the babies!”

“Really? You love babies don’t you,” Jo smiled at her son and glanced quickly at Alex.

“Uh huh! Dr. Awex fixes babies,” Liam grinned brightly. “I want to fix babies too!”

“You do, huh? Well, I’m sure he’d love to teach you one day,” Jo wrapped her son in her arms and hugged him closed. She looked up at Alex, “Was he good?”

“Oh yeah, he was great,” Alex gave her one of his crooked grins. “So, he’s yours?”

“Yeah, I had him a couple months before I started med school. It’s just us,” Jo felt her heart pick up in speed the more she looked at him. If this whole soulmate thing was true, the Jo was sure that his heart was beating equally as quickly. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Of course,” Alex took a deep breath. This was all too surreal. He was standing in an exam room with his soulmate and her son and he’d never felt more at home. He didn’t want this to end. “You know, I was telling Liam here that maybe I’d try to get him some ice cream. What if we all go together? I know this really great place a couple blocks away. I’ve taken my niece, Zola there a couple times and she loves it.”

Jo felt like she was dreaming. There was no way this was real. There was no way that her soulmate wanted to take her and her son out for ice cream. This didn’t happen in real life. It only happened in all the rom coms she’d grown to despise over the years. Men were never this good, but somehow, she could tell that Alex was. Jo turned to her son who looked at her with pleading eyes. Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to say no, she smiled, “I think the two of us would like that very much.”

And they did enjoy it. The trio looked like the sweetest little family as they went out for ice cream that night. Both Jo and Alex had been commented to on separate occasions by multiple people regarding their adorable dynamics. It was almost strange how normal it felt to be out and about with each other. Maybe it was because Liam was there acting as a buffer, but neither Jo nor Alex could remember why they’d been skeptical in the first place.

Alex offered to give Jo and Liam a ride home after leaving the ice cream parlor. They’d taken the bus to the hospital that morning and Jo had been planning on taking it back when Alex insisted on getting them home safely. When they finally arrived at Jo’s apartment, Liam refused to go inside and go to sleep unless Alex tucked him into bed. Jo had tried reasoning with Liam, but Alex assured her that it was fine, and he wouldn’t mind reading Liam a bedtime story or two.

So, that’s how she found herself standing in the doorway of her son’s room, watching as her new soulmate laughed with her son as he read a book to Liam. Jo’s heart fluttered at the scene. Her soulmate and her son had bonded in a matter of hours. Her soulmate actually existed and he was here in her home, tucking her son into bed as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

When Alex was done, he pulled the covers up over Liam’s small frame and ruffled his hair. He turned off the light and walked out the door, finding Jo standing in the living room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jo breathed out a shaky breath. “Thanks for… everything today. You really didn’t have to do all that.”

“It was nothing,” Alex shrugged bashfully. “I—uh, I had fun.”

The stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, each person staring at the ground. It’s wasn’t that they didn’t have anything to say, it was that there were too many things to say and neither one of them know where to start.

"You don't have to do this," Jo shook her head. "I come with a lot of baggage, more than you probably bargained for. I have a very complicated past and I don't trust people easily. On top of that, have a kid. He's the most important person in my life. So if you don't think you can handle all that, it's okay. I won't hold it against you. I'm giving you an out."

Alex looked at her curiously, "Are you free tomorrow night?"

"What?" Jo scrunched her eyebrows.

"Are you free tomorrow night?” Alex repeated.

“Uh—yeah,” Jo looked at him strangely. “Why?”

“Go out with me tomorrow, just us. I can ask Meredith if she can babysit. Liam can play with Zola,” Alex offered.

Jo could feel her heart beating wildly. The nerves in her stomach increasing, “Okay.”

*****

The date was a disaster. Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong. To be fair, Alex wasn’t really one to go on dates. Which is why he’d enlisted the help of Kepner and Robbins to set up the perfect first date. They had given him a list of suggestions of all the places he could take Jo and all the things they could do.

Of course, nothing went as planned. The restaurant they were going to eat at, didn’t have a table available. The movie they were going to watch was sold out. They missed their ferry, lost their tickets to the Seattle Great Wheel, and got stuck in traffic for about an hour.

Finally deciding to screw it, Alex ordered a pizza and fried chicken, bought a six pack of beer, and drove up to one of the cliffs just outside the city. He grabbed the blanket that was in the trunk of his car and set it outside in the grass. Jo hopped out and put the food and beers on the ground.

They spent some time talking about their pasts. They talked about their upbringing, discovering that they had a lot more in common than they would’ve thought. Alex shared about his first marriage and Jo shared hers. She told him about her name and why she chose it. They’d been making self-deprecating jokes and laughing while stargazing when it started to pour out of nowhere. They laugh and squeal as they hurry back into the car. Alex turned the heater on to help them warm up. He looked back at Jo and grimaced, "I am so sorry. This night has been a disaster. I should’ve known I would’ve screwed it up.”

“Are you kidding?” Jo looked at Alex in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve laughed this much ever. I’ve had more fun tonight than I have in a long time.”

“Really?” Alex raised his eyebrows. “You don’t care that we’re sitting in my car, soaked, eating pizza and fried chicken while drinking a couple of beers.”

“I don’t mind at all, honestly. I prefer this to fancy restaurants and cheesy movies,” Jo smiled brightly. Looking at Alex, she felt butterflies. She felt seen, she felt heard, she felt happy. “You know, I didn’t believe in all this. I didn’t believe that there was someone out there specifically made for me. I thought it was all a made-up fairytale that people just tried so hard to hold on to because life sucks sometimes. But meeting you, talking to you… I know that I want to do this for the rest of my life.”

“I do too,” Alex gave her a crooked grin. In the past few hours, he knew he’d fallen in love with this woman. “Can I kiss you?”

Jo felt her cheeks heat up. She nodded shyly, “Yes.”

Alex leaned in and pulled Jo into a passionate kiss, leaving her breathless. Nothing had ever felt more right in her life. She wanted to stay here in his arms and never leave and so did he. Alex would give anything to stay in that moment forever.

When they finally broke apart, both were grinning like idiots. Alex tucked a piece of hair behind Jo’s ear, “That was definitely worth the twenty years I spent looking at my clock wishing I could just hurry up and meet you.” He looked at the time on the dashboard of his car. “It’s getting late. We should go pick up Liam at Mer’s and I’ll drop you guys off at your place.”

“Or… we could see if she wouldn’t mind keeping him overnight. He’s probably asleep now anyway. It would be a shame to wake him up,” Jo looked up at him mischievously.

“It would be a shame,” Alex nodded in understanding. His face broke out into a smirk. “Guess I’ll just be taking you home instead.”

******

One year later….

“Okay, you remember the plan?”

“Yes, Daddy!” Liam nodded his little head at Alex. He was jumping with excitement. Today, his Daddy was going to propose to his Mommy. His Daddy wasn’t always his Daddy, though. For a long time, it was just Liam and Mommy. Now, the nice doctor that stitched up his head was his new Daddy and Liam couldn’t be happier. “Will Mommy like the ring?”

“I sure hope so, because I spent a lot of money on that thing,” Alex muttered under his breath. “You’re going to make sure that Mommy walks over here to the fountain when it’s time. Got it?”

“Got it!”

Minutes later, Alex was standing by the fountain in downtown waiting for his son to lead his soulmate to where he was waiting for them. He paced nervously as he watched them round the corner, Liam pulling on his mom’s coat sleeve to get her to hurry. As they approached, Alex took a deep breath and adjusted his tie. He smiled as the two people he loved most in the world came to a halt in front of him.

“Hi,” Alex smiled cheekily.

“Hi,” Jo beamed in return. “What are you doing here? And why are you wearing a suit?”

“I’m here because, I have something to say. And I decided to do it in public with Liam present so that I couldn’t’ chicken out,” Alex chuckled and looked down at the ground before lifting his gaze to meet Jo’s once more. “Jo, from the moment I met you, everything in my life suddenly made sense. Right then, I met the person I knew I was going to love for the rest of my life. You have changed me. I am a better man because of you and Liam. I want to grow old with you. I want to be by your side until we’re old and gray and yelling at each other about who was a better surgeon.”

Jo let out a laugh as tears filled her eyes. Alex leaned in for a brief kiss before finally getting down on one knee, “I love you. So, Jo Wilson, will you marry me?”

Jo’s breath hitched, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes! Alex, I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Mommy and Daddy are getting married!” Liam squealed from where he was standing.

Alex and Jo laughed at Liam’s excitement, “Yeah, we are.”

40 notes · View notes

nazyalenskyism · 4 years ago

Text

Can’t Fall in Love Tonight

A/N: A modern Zoyalai AU, Nikolai is a politician and Zoya is his manager.

Ao3 Link: Can’t Fall in Love Tonight

You can find Chapter One of ‘Can’t Fall in Love Tonight’ under the cut, enjoy! Any feedback is greatly appreciated!

“That’s unacceptable and you know it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

Zoya resisted the urge to roll her eyes, dear lord, each new batch of interns was worse than the last. They had no backbone whatsoever, and when did it become part of her job to help them develop one? “So, if you know the criteria for all reports submitted to me, why didn’t you check with your supervisor that it had been done correctly? Why would you bring it to me without being sure?”

“I-- I’m so sorry Ms.Nazyalensky, it won’t happen again.”

She nodded curtly, “see to it that it doesn’t. We run a big campaign, and we can’t afford to have little things like this slow down the cogs of the machine. Double check all the requirements next time, because if you don't, there won't be any more chances, nor will you ever find a job with any political campaign again.” The kid, Paul-- no--Patrick, stared at her, his mouth wobbling, trying to find a reply. She’d given him another chance, why was he still standing there, acting like she’d already fired him? She opened her mouth, about to tell him to run back to his station when she noticed glinting gold out of the corner of her eye. Fantastic. The gallant hero riding in to save the poor intern from the stormy harpy. She knew the names they called her, and she didn't care in the least. There was a reason she had her job, and that was because she was the best, not because she was the nicest.

“What Nazyalenksy means to say is that we constantly have to be updated with new incoming information that the format that you learned on your first day was created to save as much time as possible while conveying the information easily. Each individual on the staff has a significant role to play, something that seems as trivial as a document’s format has a big impact on the entire campaign. Your job is as important as mine, Pavel.”

A hand clapped down on the young man’s shoulder as he replied, “really?” in an awed voice, mouth agape. Zoya fought to keep her composure again, these interns were always ready to bow down in front of their boss as if he were a king and they were mere subjects. A few words from Nikolai, a charming smile thrown their way and they were basically genuflecting.

“Well, that’s not entirely true, I suppose. I do have to stand around and look dashing, the most difficult of my daily tasks,” the man said good-naturedly. This was typical Nikolai, when he was in front of the lower level employees, he was a commanding and kind boss. When he was before his biggest donors, he was a charming young man, telling lively stories about his time in university, his world adventures, how he’d sailed around the world in two years, anything that would ensure their support. Pavel stood rooted to the spot, this was clearly the first encounter he’d had with the Nikolai Lantsov, and he looked like he was close to passing out.

“Run along now, Peter, and remember what I said.” The boy hurried away, too scared to tell her she’d called him by the wrong name, turning his head back to catch one last glimpse at Nikolai, paling as Nikolai raised a hand waving goodbye.

“His name was Pavel, and you didn’t have to instill the fear of Zoya into him for his mistake,” Nikolai said, turning his head towards her.

Zoya shrugged a shoulder noncommittally, “now he’ll never make the same mistake again. Where are we finding these new recruits, I swear we weren’t this incompetent when we did this.”

“You, incompetent? Those words don’t belong together in a sentence at all.”

“What about, Zoya’s unparalled talents save her incompetent candidate, Nikolai Lantsov from defeat yet again?” At that, Zoya saw slight tension creep into Nikolai’s stance. She sighed, they really couldn’t go more than an hour without yet another issue springing up, could they?

“Perhaps that isn’t the most fitting phrase,” Nikolai said, tone shifting from easy and relaxed to all business. “Let’s talk in my office.” As he led the way down the hall of their headquarters, Zoya saw people stick their heads out of doorways to catch a glimpse of the golden boy, eyes wide, mouths agape. Zoya didn’t miss the looks towards her as well. Regularly she was their hard-ass superior who tolerated nothing less than perfection, but whenever their staff saw her go into a room alone with Nikolai, they got ideas that only added to the small, but ridiculous rumours that they were ‘a thing.’ She couldn’t care less, her job was to be his campaign manager during election season, and Chief of Staff otherwise— and so nearly half of her time was spent with Nikolai, heads bent over desks, trying to solve whatever new problem they encountered. Long after everyone had wrapped for the day, they would still be at the office, or retreat to Nikolai’s lavish apartment to continue working. She always went home after these late-night sessions, and nothing remotely scandalous had ever happened between her and Nikolai, but the rumors didn’t seem to care about facts. They were close, they always had been. She wasn’t about to act differently because of a small rumour. Unless their actions would negatively impact Nikolai’s image, she didn’t care. Still, Zoya swept the hallway with a cool glare, she was still their superior, and they didn’t have time to waste watching a man walk down the hall.

By the time Zoya reached the end of the hall, Nikolai was gallantly holding the door open for her, and quickly shut it behind her. She didn’t particularly care for his office, it felt like a watered down, more palatable version of his home office, which was much more eclectic, filled with his personal hard-won treasures, not just that which looked the most interesting and professional. But she supposed, if anyone understood the importance of presentation, it was her. Her blue silk blouse with its delicate silver pearl buttons was paired with a sleek black skirt, and her usual heels were polished to perfection, not unlike Nikolai’s shining black Oxfords. “So, what is it?”

“Zoya. It’s... It’s…” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and she froze, she hadn’t seen him this phased about something in a long, long time. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.

“Just spit it out Nikolai, whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

“We have reason to believe that Demidov has a new Campaign Manager.”

Zoya felt her brows draw together, “that can’t be the whole of it, who is it Lantsov?” Nikolai looked at her pointedly and Zoya understood immediately, “no. No. No. Way. In. Hell.” She felt pure hatred course through her veins. ‘Any other problem, we could deal with-- any other problem than this. Why did it have to be this?’ She drew in a deep breath. She had been preparing to face him again for years. Not just to face him, but to beat him at his own game, and she knew that she could. She had learned a lot, grown, and become a force to be reckoned with. She was ready to beat him, and this time, she would.

“Right then, what do you want our next move to be?”

Nikolai looked up at her, his brows furrowed, she was almost sure that he was going to ask her if she was alright, which was the last thing she needed to hear right now. Instead, he shook his head slightly, clearing his face of all concern before drawing out files from his desk drawer. “We have to figure out their strategy. But before that, we have to tell the team. Demidov is definitely bringing his new manager to the charity ball tonight which means we’re all going to have to play nice.”

Zoya snorted, “you can play nice Nikolai, I’ll be doing just the opposite.”

“Zoya,” he caught her wrist as she turned to stand. “All of us hate him, but we can’t do anything in public today. I promise that we will find a way to get rid of him forever, but we’re not going to do anything to jeopardize future plans today, is that clear?”

Her chest heaved, it had taken everything in herself not to let go and scream when she’d realized who Nikolai was alluding to, but she didn’t know if she could manage to do this-- to go through a 6 hour fundraiser while ‘playing nice’ with the man who had ruined all their lives. But she had a job, and that was to carry them through this election, to have Nikolai’s back, to ensure that they did what they could for the people they promised to serve, and she would not let him be the reason she didn’t fulfill her duties. She pursed her lips, nodding at Nikolai, “I won’t do anything to mess things up, but I sure as hell won’t be playing ‘nice’.”

“I would expect nothing less of you,” Nikolai said with a genuine smile, tugging gently at her wrist, “if I wanted someone who would ‘play nice’ I wouldn’t have started working with you eight years ago.”

“You didn’t start working with me, Lantsov, I started working with you. Without my intervention, you would still be in local politics.”

“Semantics dear Zoya. If I hadn’t approached you in the law library, we would have never met.”

“That’s wrong and you know it. We would’ve met when I ran for the head of the student body and beat you for the presidency. I would’ve loved to see you defeated by me. It’s fine, I guess watching you lose board game night every Friday for the last eight years is good enough.” She sat down, her wrist still in Nikolai’s grasp.

“I don’t lose every time,” Nikolai frowned childishly, and Zoya had to suppress a laugh, she knew he was trying to up her spirits before they had to relay the bad news to the others. “I always win the strategic games, like chess but you unfairly banned them.”

Zoya leaned in, cocking her head at him, “we can’t all be boring like you Lantsov. What’s the point of a game night if half the group falls asleep by 9 PM?”

Nikolai leaned in as well, “it’s not my fault none of you are worthy competitors, if you--” he was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, causing Zoya to pull away sharply, yanking her wrist from him. Nikolai shot her an unreadable look before inhaling deeply, “yes?”

“Mister Lantsov, I have Ms. Safin, Mr. Kostyk, Mr. Yul-Bataar and Ms. Kir-Bataar here, like you asked.”

Nikolai and Zoya shared a look, this was it then. “Let them in.”

***

“Zoya, come on, we’re going to be late unless we leave right now,” Nikolai glanced at his watch, the charity event started in 40 minutes and with the traffic it would definitely take them at least half an hour to get there.

“I’m coming!” Zoya’s voice drifted down from the upstairs floor of his apartment. Zoya lived in a cozy apartment in Hell’s Kitchen that she had shared with Genya and Tamar, but when Tamar had started getting serious with Nadia, she’d moved in with the girl and they’d gotten married shortly after. Now, Genya and David were newly engaged, which meant that David was always over, and so Zoya was spending more time at his place, because as she liked to say, “if I have to sit through one more dinner where it’s just the two of them goggling at each other the entire night, I’ll take out their eyes myself.” After they’d broken the news to the rest of their inner circle, Zoya had asked if she could get ready at his apartment, and when he’d said yes, had gone home immediately to grab her things. He knew she felt unreasonably guilty, that she felt like she’d betrayed her friends by allowing Demidov to hire him, even though she’d had no way to stop it from happening. He knew she didn’t want to have to face Genya alone immediately after they had told her, and he knew that was why she’d sought refuge in his apartment for a few hours before the party. He wanted to tell her that it wasn’t her fault, that she couldn’t change the past, only work with him to better things in the future, but these were things she already knew, and she relied on him to help her to move forward, not tell her what she already knew.

Nikolai looked at his watch again, now they were actually about to be late, “Time to go! Where are you Zo—” Nikolai felt his breath skip. While he’d been distracted, Zoya had begun to descend the stairs, looking ethereal in a silky emerald green dress, her hair loose, tumbling in ink black waves over her shoulders. He felt a bit like a school boy, his breath quite literally knocked from his chest for a moment. Teardrop emeralds hung from her ears, and matching clips held back portions of her hair. He thought Zoya in her favoured blue had been difficult to resist, but Zoya in green was a sight to behold on its own. Had he not been practiced in restraining himself from her beauty, he was sure he would’ve trailed behind her the whole night like a forlorn puppy. “I’m ready, I’m ready!” She called, hurrying to the door to slip on her heels for the night. “Hold this,” she grumbled, smacking her clutch into his chest as she breezed by him.

“Ouch, you know you could be more gent--”he broke off, nearly gaping. Backless. Her dress was backless. Nikolai looked up to the heavens, it seemed less and less likely that he was going to survive tonight. He shook his head, trying to clear it so he could focus on their task for the night, although he didn’t know how he was supposed to focus on anything else when his Chief of Staff was looking like that. He sighed audibly and Zoya’s head snapped towards him as they slipped out the door.

“What, you’re not looking forward to tonight?”

“No. I am.”

“What is it then?”

“I’m just thinking about how you’ve out-dressed me again. People are going to start thinking I have no sense of style if you keep upstaging me like his,” he replied, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes, “you’re not used to it yet, Lantsov? I’ve always been better dressed and better-looking. Maybe it’s time you up your game.”

“Oh,” he clutched his chest in mock despair, “how you wound me.” Zoya snorted at him before flouncing towards the elevator. He stared after her, he definitely would never get used to this.

***

They’d sat through the initial speeches, the extravagant dinner with its ridiculously small portions and now the dance floor had opened up and yet, they’d yet to see Demidov or the newest addition to his staff. Nikolai had convinced Zoya to dance after she’d spent the better part of the evening making sure Genya was okay, and that Nikolai spoke to all the people they needed to secure as donors, and charmed everyone who came within 5 feet of him. Now, finally he’d been granted a short reprieve in the form of a dance with his favourite harpy.

Zoya felt her pulse thrumming, her adrenaline had been high all night, and she just wanted the night to be over, the anticipation was tugging at her relentlessly. She’d agreed to a dance with Nikolai, and he looked especially the part of a prince tonight. She had to admit to that she’d had a moment of speechlessness when she’d seen him at the bottom of the stairs, the midnight black of his suit a stark contrast to his golden locks, and the gold tie pin and cufflinks he adorned highlighted the gold flecks in his hazel eyes. It was good that he looked handsome tonight, from a professional standpoint only, of course, people responded to beauty, they both knew that. She’d been around Nikolai, been his closest friend for long enough that she had made herself immune to his charms and looks. Still, she fought shivers when he placed her hand in his, the other sitting on the small of her back as he led her into a flawless waltz. As they began to gently sway to the soft string music, Zoya’s mind turned back to the issue at hand.

“Do you see him?”

“No. He’s probably waiting to make a dramatic entrance.”

“Is that what you would do?”

Nikolai hesitated,“I would never be in his position.”

“You’re right. I just wish we knew what game he was playing. Or when he’d show up.” They passed a few moments in silence, both of them drawing closer together, content in the moment, until Nikolai saw a commotion out of the corner of his eye.

“I think your wish has been answered, Zoya dear.” Her head jolted upright just as the song ended. There, at the grand doors of the ballroom, was Demidov, looking the part as usual, and next to him stood a man dressed entirely in black.

“Here we go,” Nikolai murmured. Zoya took his arm with one hand and grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server’s tray in the other as they crossed the floor towards the men. Nikolai found David and Tolya’s eyes from across the room and gestured towards the ballroom door. They both nodded and Nikolai watched as they found Genya, Tamar and Nadia. Good, it was best that they all got out of here. Knowing the man, he would try to goad them with mentions of their friends, and Nikolai was not in the mood tonight.

“Mr. Lantsov,” Demidov greeted them cheerfully, clasping Nikolai’s hand in a friendly handshake. “The always radiant Ms. Nazyalenksy,” he smiled, pressing his lips to her knuckles, not seeing the dangerous fire simmering behind her eyes. Only her true friends would ever be able to see how irritated she was by a man she deemed as, ‘having a backbone made of butterscotch pudding.’ He wasn’t fully aware what that meant, but Genya, Nadia and Tolya had agreed serenely when she’d first said it, so he supposed it must make sense.

“Please, allow me to introduce you to my new campaign manager! This is--”

“Aleks!” Nikolai exclaimed jovially, not missing the laugh in Zoya’s eyes. “My goodness, it’s been so long.”

“You know each other?” Demidov said.

“Oh yes, way back in my university days, but I’m sure you don’t want to hear that story, it’s far too long and features several ballads dedicated to my brilliance. It’s rather a production.”

“I prefer to go by ‘The Darkling’,” Aleksander interjected coolly, inclining his head at Nikolai in acknowledgement, and resting his eyes on Zoya.

“Oh,” Zoya started, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing any true emotion on her face. She brought a finger to her chin in mock-contemplation, though no one other than Nikolai and the Darkling would know it. “That’s a strange name, is it French?”

“No, no. Zoya, I speak French, and whatever it is, it’s not French. Maybe it’s Russian?” Nikolai returned, looking thoughtful. Saints, he was a frighteningly good actor.

She shrugged, “funny, I’m fluent and I've never heard that before.”

“Is it not English, Aleksander?” Demidov questioned, clearly puzzled.

The Darkling ignored them all. Instead he turned to Zoya, “Ms. Nazyalenksy, would you honour me with a dance?”

“No.” Zoya enunciated clearly, looking directly at him. Nikolai laid a hand on her arm, a small reminder of their larger plan. His phone buzzed in his lapel pocket, and he glanced at it quickly, a message from Tamar, perfectly on time.

“If you’ll excuse us, we have to take this,” Nikolai said holding up his phone, placing his hand on Zoya’s back, letting her know they were escaping this situation. Demidov nodded a goodbye as Zoya took a final sip from her glass.

“It was so nice to meet you, Alexi!” she laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, clearly dismissing him as if she were a queen and he were a mere peasant.

“Goodnight, enjoy the festivities Aleks,” Nikolai added, nothing but a polite smile on his face as they turned and started towards a sheltered alcove in the corner of the room.

***

Zoya paced back and forth, “I hate everything about this— how could anyone even think to hire him after what he did?” Nikolai frowned, there was a note of desperation in her voice, very unlike Zoya. He knew the crimes of the man as well as the rest of his inner circle, they had all been directly impacted by him, but he knew that Zoya had never forgiven herself for being young, taken in by his seemingly perfect ideology and being unable to see the rot that lay beneath it all. Others who were older, and arguably wiser had been fooled just as easily as they all had, yet Zoya wouldn’t forgive herself, she held herself to a higher standard, he knew what that was like better than anyone else. The reason he’d told her before he’d broken the news to the rest of his staff was because of this, he knew that neither him nor Zoya would ever let that man inflict anymore hurt upon their friends.

“He did a lot to bury his crimes, only a few people truly know what happened. The general public views them as allegations, not definitive crimes.”

“Why? They’ve seen the evidence.” Zoya snapped, “they can see it every day.” He could see that she was a tightly wound coil after the news and that she needed a distraction.

“Shall we share another dance?”

“What?” she snapped, “Nikolai, I’m not in the mood.”

“Whatever you say, Nazyalensky, but if you don’t dance with me, I’m 98% sure he’s going to ask you to dance next,” he said nodding towards Kirigin, one of many men who constantly trailed them at functions like this in an attempt to catch Zoya’s attention for a second.

“Oh god, my options are you and Kirigin?” Zoya rubbed her temples, as much as she wanted to go home and finish a bottle of wine on her own, she knew they had to stay until the party was over. “Fine. Lead the way Lantsov, but I will be stepping on your toes.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, my ruthless Zoya.”

#zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #zoyalai #tgt fanfic #kos fanfic #zoyalai au #nikolai x zoya #the grishaverse #king of scars au #zoyalai fic #my written works #idiots to lovers #im a zoyalai stan first human second #mentions of: genya safin #mentions of: david kostyk #mentions of: tolya yul-bataar #mentions of: tamar kir-bataar

6 notes · View notes

lydia-can-live · 5 years ago

Text

In honor of Jess getting blocked by Shatner on Twitter...

And to also to acknowledge her contribution to the Outlander Fandom AND to totally gloat about how fucking stupid Shitner/Camuso looks on twitter right now. This post is in response to their combined attack on me on tumblr. Sept 2018 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You could have had it all... Unlike paulcamuso & p-redux, I didn’t create my tumblr blog to “debunk Sam is gay theories” or “to put Shippers in their Place” like they did. I created my blog in 2013 to read and enjoy stuff about Outlander. So p-redux shows up in the fandom because she was hot for Sam. Who can forget her sorrowful good bye to Rob Pattinson upon seeing Sam. Yeah, this isn’t her first Rodeo; and then paulcamuso with his negative comments about Claire, causing a commotion on Twitter. Camuso decided to capitalize on the number of followers Shatner had with the Outlander fans and conceived the clever concept of insulting the lead actress while exalting the handsome, male lead to garner social media excitement. Purv and Paul: employing selfish strategies and inserting their theories into a built-in fan base they know nothing about, fucking it up and somehow making it all about themselves. Sigh…. But that wasn’t enough. They had to go after people who were enjoying the fandom experience and were speculating on whether the two leads with lightening-in-a-bottle-chemistry were a couple in real life.

They turned that into a bad thing. Camuso used Shatner’s 2M mostly men and boys to attack anyone that suggested that Sam and Cait were a couple and Purv used her tumblr and TW to push the “any woman but Cait” theory. The “shippers are evil” trope was solidified in a fandom that was based on a historical romance novel. Who let this marinate? I ignored the Purv and Camuso nonsense and drew my own conclusions about Sam & Cait. Isn’t that amazing? I didn’t need gossip bloggers to tell me what to think!? Surely I can’t be the only one? I don’t believe Sam is straight, and I fully support whoever he is. I’m offering my observation and opinion like everyone else but because it doesn’t fit the hetero-normative narrative I’m guilty of spreading rumors and ugly lies. I’m called nasty and mocked for my mental health and intelligence People are upset with me because “I shouldn’t discuss Sam’s personal life” but those same people are looking for Sam’s balls in stills, replaying the stupid Mill Pond gif set I’ve seen a half a million times, and talking about how Sam’s penis reacts to Cait in a dress. They talk about it incessantly, but if someone offers a differing opinion, they are labeled intrusive, mentally ill, etc. Listen up: THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING GAY!!! LGBTQ people are just people and they are everywhere. Its not okay to have a hard time with that anymore. Purv and Paul, you worked so hard debunking my insignificant post on my teeny tiny insignificant blog, the least I can do is acknowledge it. First of all, If I google “what do social media managers do” I get “ About 211,000,000 results (0.58 seconds) “ so, I mean, how stupid do you think people are to think that you’re going to get an accurate amount of hits per subject? Hilarious. The internet is like trying to get a glass of water out of a fire hydrant. Don’t pretend that google searches are exact. The fact is that all of the references to Sam’s gay roles have been cleaned up to look very generic. Links are broken, clips are gone. Sure, references are there, but not as they were in 2013. Check the Heughan’s Heughligans fan page, even their links are broken. 2nd, the internet term “scrubbing” doesn’t mean that all content is erased; it means a new narrative is created. Sure, you can see content on the gay roles Sam starred in, but he is not the focus. His roles are down played significantly. Casual fans don’t care. They just want a little info and they move on. In that sense, it is effective. But who am I to tell you guys about effective internet campaigns? I’m just one of those horny grannies who believe that if Sam isn’t with Cait, he must be gay, amirite? But seriously Paul, how many fans did you snare with your hateful snark? Not many, I’m guessing, because most intelligent women think for themselves. The bigger, more important question is how many of these fans did you purposely hurt? That’s a post for another day.So how was last weekend, you guys? Did you read my Fri. night blog and decide to “go after” me? Hilarious. I know you didn’t scramble for all those screen shots to compile the perfect joint post because you’ve had them in your “debunk” folder, ready to fire off when someone pisses you off. You made your point to…maybe a half dozen followers. Well done. Your sock accounts tried to bait me into arguing over stupid shit and poor SnowWhitewhateverthefuck got her feelings hurt because she was called out for using a mental health assessment as a way to win an argument. I know you’re not going to stop your bullshit, but just know that it matters so very little to the rest of us. tl:dr You have unleashed chaos into a fandom that has been waiting for over 20 years for these books to come to life. You could have grown a social media following without negativity, without hateful rhetoric, yet you decided to do the opposite. You had access to millions of followers clamoring for info and you decided to pit fan against fan. You missed out on a great opportunity for unity and decided to go with hate.

3 notes · View notes

dfroza · 3 years ago

Text

A transformation of heart & mind

(metamorphosis)

from a man hellbent on arresting and jailing followers of Light, to be blinded by the same Source of Light and to choose humility to birth change from the inside out

from Saul to Paul

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 9th chapter of the book of Acts:

Back to Saul—this fuming, raging, hateful man who wanted to kill every last one of the Lord’s disciples: he went to the high priest in Jerusalem for authorization to purge all the synagogues in Damascus of followers of the way of Jesus. His plan was to arrest and chain any of Jesus’ followers—women as well as men—and transport them back to Jerusalem. He traveled north toward Damascus with a group of companions.

Imagine this: Suddenly a light flashes from the sky around Saul, and he falls to the ground at the sound of a voice.

The Lord: Saul, Saul, why are you attacking Me?

Saul: Lord, who are You?

Then he hears these words:

The Lord: I am Jesus. I am the One you are attacking. Get up. Enter the city. You will learn there what you are to do.

His other traveling companions just stand there, paralyzed, speechless because they, too, heard the voice; but there is nobody in sight. Saul rises to his feet, his eyes wide open, but he can’t see a thing. So his companions lead their blind friend by the hand and take him into Damascus. He waits for three days—completely blind—and does not eat a bite or drink a drop of anything.

Meanwhile, in Damascus a disciple named Ananias had a vision in which the Lord Jesus spoke to him.

The Lord: Ananias.

Ananias: Here I am, Lord.

The Lord: Get up and go to Straight Boulevard. Go to the house of Judas, and inquire about a man from Tarsus, Saul by name. He is praying to Me at this very instant. He has had a vision—a vision of a man by your name who will come, lay hands on him, and heal his eyesight.

Ananias: Lord, I know whom You’re talking about. I’ve heard rumors about this fellow. He’s an evil man and has caused great harm for Your special people in Jerusalem. I’ve heard that he has been authorized by the religious authorities to come here and chain everyone who associates with Your name.

The Lord: Yes, but you must go! I have chosen him to be My instrument to bring My name far and wide—to outsiders, to kings, and to the people of Israel as well. I have much to show him, including how much he must suffer for My name.

So Ananias went and entered the house where Saul was staying. He laid his hands on Saul and called to him.

Ananias: Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, sent me so you can regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.

At that instant, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see. So he got up, received the ceremonial washing of baptism identifying him as a disciple, ate some food (remember, he had not eaten for three days), and regained his strength. He spent a lot of time with the disciples in Damascus over the next several days. Then he went into the very synagogues he had intended to purge, proclaiming,

Saul: Jesus is God’s Son!

Obviously this amazed everybody, and the buzz spread.

The People: Isn’t he the man who caused so much trouble in Jerusalem for everyone identified with Jesus? Didn’t he come here to arrest followers of Jesus and bring them in chains to the religious authorities? Now he’s switched sides and is preaching Jesus?

As time passed, Saul’s confidence grew stronger and stronger, so much so that he debated with the Jews of Damascus and made an irrefutable case that Jesus is, in fact, God’s Anointed, the Liberating King.

They didn’t like being confounded like this; so after several days, the Jews plotted to assassinate Saul. But he learned of the plot. He knew they were keeping the city gates under constant surveillance, so they could follow and kill him when he left. To save Saul, the disciples came up with a plan of their own. During the night, they put Saul in a basket and lowered him by ropes from an opening in the wall of the city rather than passing through the gates. Their plan worked, and he returned to Jerusalem.

He tried to join the disciples there, but they didn’t think he was sincere.

Only one person accepted Saul as a genuine disciple, Barnabas, who became Saul’s advocate to the apostles. He told the whole story of what happened in Damascus, from Saul’s vision and message from the Lord to his transformation into a confident proclaimer of the name of Jesus. Finally they accepted Saul and gave him access to their community, and he continued to speak confidently in the name of the Lord. He dialogued—and argued—with a group of Greek-speaking Jews. That didn’t go well either, because soon they were plotting to kill him also. His fellow believers helped him escape by bringing him to Caesarea and sending him to his hometown, Tarsus.

And so the church enjoyed a period of peace and growth throughout the regions of Judea, Galilee, and Samaria. The disciples lived in deep reverence for the Lord, they experienced the strong comfort of the Holy Spirit, and their numbers increased.

Peter hadn’t been idle during all this time. He was having a number of amazing experiences of his own, traveling from group to group and visiting the various communities of believers. Once he came to a town called Lydda, a border town between Samaria and Judea, and met with God’s special people there. He visited a man named Aeneas. This poor fellow had been paralyzed for eight years, unable to leave his bed.

Peter: Aeneas, Jesus the Anointed heals you. Get up! Now you can make your own bed!

And immediately—he got up! All the local residents—both of Lydda and nearby Sharon—saw Aeneas healthy and strong again, so they turned to the Lord.

In a nearby coastal city, Joppa, there lived a disciple whose Aramaic name was Tabitha, or Dorcas in Greek. She was a good woman—devotedly doing good and giving to the poor. While Peter was in Lydda, she fell sick and died. Her fellow disciples washed her body and laid her in an upstairs room. They had heard Peter was nearby, so two of them went with an urgent message, “Please come to Joppa as soon as possible.”

Peter went with them and immediately entered the room where the corpse had been placed. It was quite a scene—the widows of the community were crowded in the room, weeping, showing the various items of clothing that Dorcas had made for them.

Peter asked them to leave the room; then he got on his knees. He prayed for a while and then turned to her body.

Peter: Tabitha, get up!

She opened her eyes, saw Peter, and sat up. Giving her his hand, Peter lifted her up. Then he called in the other disciples—including the widows—and reintroduced them to their beloved friend. The news of this miracle spread throughout the city, and many believed in the Lord. Peter stayed in Joppa for some time as the guest of Simon, a tanner by profession.

The Book of Acts, Chapter 9 (The Voice)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 10th chapter of the book of Genesis that documents the spread of human life after the global Flood:

[The Family Tree of Noah’s Sons]

This is the family tree of the sons of Noah: Shem, Ham, and Japheth. After the flood, they themselves had sons.

The sons of Japheth: Gomer, Magog, Madai, Javan, Tubal, Meshech, Tiras.

The sons of Gomer: Ashkenaz, Riphath, Togarmah.

The sons of Javan: Elishah, Tarshish, Kittim, Rodanim. The seafaring peoples developed from these, each in its own place by family, each with its own language.

The sons of Ham: Cush, Egypt, Put, Canaan.

The sons of Cush: Seba, Havilah, Sabtah, Raamah, Sabteca.

The sons of Raamah: Sheba, Dedan.

Cush also had Nimrod. He was the first great warrior on Earth. He was a great hunter before God. There was a saying, “Like Nimrod, a great hunter before God.” His kingdom got its start with Babel; then Erech, Akkad, and Calneh in the country of Shinar. From there he went up to Asshur and built Nineveh, Rehoboth Ir, Calah, and Resen between Nineveh and the great city Calah.

Egypt was ancestor to the Ludim, the Anamim, the Lehabim, the Naphtuhim, the Pathrusim, the Casluhim (the origin of the Philistines), and the Kaphtorim.

Canaan had Sidon his firstborn, Heth, the Jebusites, the Amorites, the Girgashites, the Hivites, the Arkites, the Sinites, the Arvadites, the Zemarites, and the Hamathites. Later the Canaanites spread out, going from Sidon toward Gerar, as far south as Gaza, and then east all the way over to Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, Zeboiim, and on to Lasha.

These are the descendants of Ham by family, language, country, and nation.

Shem, the older brother of Japheth, also had sons. Shem was ancestor to all the children of Eber.

The sons of Shem: Elam, Asshur, Arphaxad, Lud, and Aram.

The sons of Aram: Uz, Hul, Gether, Meshech.

Arphaxad had Shelah and Shelah had Eber. Eber had two sons, Peleg (so named because in his days the human race divided) and Joktan.

Joktan had Almodad, Sheleph, Hazarmaveth, Jerah, Hadoram, Uzal, Diklah, Obal, Abimael, Sheba, Ophir, Havilah, and Jobab—all sons of Joktan. Their land goes from Mesha toward Sephar as far as the mountain ranges in the east.

These are the descendants of Shem by family, language, country, and nation.

This is the family tree of the sons of Noah as they developed into nations. From them nations developed all across the Earth after the flood.

The Book of Genesis, Chapter 10 (The Message)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Wednesday, february 23 of 2022 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about we the strangers:

God's people are always "strangers" in this world; they are literally "e-stranged" -- living here, yet not here. We are outsiders and pilgrims, not at home in this world, and our faith therefore is both a type of "protest" against any interpretation of reality that excludes, suppresses, denies, or minimizes the Divine Presence as well as a longing for the place where we truly belong.... If you feel crazy in an insane situation, then you are really quite sane... The world will feel oppressive and strange once you have been awakened from its madness and refuse to be moved by the delusions of the crowd... Life in olam hazeh (this world) is a place of passing that leads to the world to come. Our faith affirms that underlying the surface appearance of life is a deeper reality that is ultimately real and abiding. It "sees what is invisible" (2 Cor. 4:18) and understands (i.e., accepts) that the "present form of this world is passing away" (1 Cor. 7:31).

The Apostle Paul taught that we are to be "conformed" (σύμμορφος) to the Messiah (Rom. 8:29), but not "conformed" (συσχηματίζω) to the pattern of this fallen world (Rom. 12:2). The former word means to resemble or be made similar in form (μορφή), whereas the latter means to accept the world's scheme (σχῆμα) of understanding things, to passively go along with the world's lies, wishful thinking, fearmongering, propaganda, etc. Of course we need God's help to escape the "programming" of our age, and therefore the Holy Spirit helps us to become transfigured – “changed from the inside out” - by the renewal of our minds, enabling us to see things in light of the reality of our identity in the Messiah. So refuse to let the world system get you down, but focus on God and His great glory. Take heart, friends: being exiled by the world is an indication that you belong to the Kingdom of God... [Hebrew for Christians]

2.22.22 • Facebook

February 23, 2022

The Fountain of Life

“And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” (Revelation 22:17)

The fourth verse of “Jesus, Lover of My Soul” speaks of the mature Christian’s desire for purity and victory over sin and looks forward to the ultimate victory in eternity.

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, grace to cover all my sin;

Let the healing streams abound; make and keep me pure within.

Thou of life the fountain art, freely let me take of Thee;

Spring Thou up within my heart; rise to all eternity.

Our maturing in Christ begins at the time of repentance and forgiveness, and no matter the depth of our sin, His love can conquer it, for “the grace of our Lord was exceeding abundant with faith and love which is in Christ Jesus...Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners; of whom I am chief” (1 Timothy 1:14-15). Indeed, “the blood of Jesus Christ...cleanses us from all sin” (1 John 1:7).

“Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God....And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure” (1 John 3:1, 3). Thus, His gracious love for us becomes the agent of pure living in our lives.

The love of Jesus Christ is like “a well of living waters” (Song of Solomon 4:15). This well is freely open to all, as we see in our text. Jesus, the lover of the soul, who says “come,” also says, “Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life” (John 4:14). JDM

0 notes

junker-town · 4 years ago

Text

Introducing ‘The Corden-Fieri Scale’ for athletes

Photo by CBS via Getty Images

Every single athlete falls somewhere on this.

Everyone loved James Corden in 2016. His late night show, inoffensive comedy, and carpool karaoke entranced the world with his polite, British comedy stylings. Then his star began to dim. People grew weary of Corden. A 2020 AMA on Reddit turned into a disaster of epic proportions, with less questions being asked than dozens of people sharing tales of what an epic dick Corden was. From yelling at servers in restaurants, to intentionally knowing only senior staff on his set and treating everyone else like dirt, rumors of Corden’s self-inflated ego were legendary, and he’s been taking a reputation hit ever since.

Rewind the same five years and Guy Fieri was a joke. People dunked on his fire shirts, his frosted tips, his donkey sauce, and piled on when celebrity chefs treated the Food Network star with disdain. Fieri took this all on his chin, and soon rumors got out about him too — this time about how genuinely nice, kind and caring he was about other people in his orbit. While James Corden was bombing on Reddit, Fieri was raising $21.5M for struggling restaurants in the middle of Covid, ensuring family businesses and mom-and-pop places found a way to stay afloat during massive economic struggle.

Every athlete you know, every athlete you love, and even the ones you hate — all have a place on the “Corden-Fieri Scale.” The ultimate taxonomy of popularity applicable to anyone famous, especially athletes. I posit that there are two paradigms of popularity: The Corden and The Fieri, cultural yin and yangs. People who the world loved and grew to detest, and those who were mocked, only to win hearts later.

There’s a critical caveat in applying the Corden-Fieri scale: We can’t apply it to genuinely garbage humans, regardless of their fame in sports. Those who have perpetrated violent crimes or discriminatory acts, putting them on the Corden path are disqualified. These people don’t deserve being ranked in this harmless exercise. Like Corden and Fieri themselves, the goal of the scale is to see how the public reacts to people’s genuine personalities becoming known by the wider populace, and how we adapt to it.

To best understand the Corden-Fieri Scale let’s apply it to a few notable players in the NFL and NBA .

Tom Brady, Kevin Durant (Strong Corden)

This isn’t about how a player is perceived by the fanbase, but in the wider culture of sports. Over the years fans have grown weary of Brady, and he’s been a state of Cordening himself since 2005 or so.

Frustration with his winning, his lack of personality, the manufactured online presence he has, then the supplement company that bilked $1M from small businesses during Covid, Brady is the epitome of an athlete who has been on a strong Corden trend for much of his NFL career.

There’s no question that early in his career Durant was on the path to True Fieri, but moving from Oklahoma City, forming a Warriors Super Team, faking online accounts to defend himself, then forming a new super team in Brooklyn have put him firmly on the path to becoming the NBA’s biggest Corden.

Paul George, Russell Wilson (Leaning Corden)

Paul George was generally liked among NBA fans, but his moves after Indianapolis put him firmly on a path to Corderndom. We’re not talking out-and-out hatred quite yet, but people are growing weary of the promise that George is one of the best players in the NBA, only to see that fail to materialize. Sprinkle in some playoff failures and chasing a super team and you have all the trappings of someone destined to be a long-time Corden.

When it comes to Wilson he too has been generally liked, but he’s always been seen as a little corny. Hawking alkaline water didn’t help his cause, but much like Corden himself, people are just growing tired of Wilson.

Larry Fitzgerald, Tim Duncan (True Neutrals)

There’s no question of the greatness of Fitzgerald and Duncan, but does anyone really have a strong feeling one way or another? They both seem like genuinely nice, moderate guys who don’t make waves in either direction.

Kyrie Irving, Aaron Rodgers (Leaning Fieri)

Kyrie Irving is a fascinating case of the chaotic on the scale. There’s no question that since entering the league Irving was on the path to becoming one of the NBA’s biggest Cordens. His adherence to flat earth theory and tendency to bounce around teams didn’t ingrate him to fans. But, since arriving in Brooklyn he’s become a paragon of the Fieri turnaround. Whether it’s fighting for athlete rights, calling out injustice, or making his voice heard — Irving is on a path to Flavortown.

Outside of Green Bay (and, well, the NFC North) there weren’t a lot of strong feelings about Aaron Rodgers outside of his on-field play. Recent off-field moments, whether it’s hosting Jeopardy! or announcing his engagement to Shailene Woodley has put him on a path to generally people liking him and moving from a neutral, to a Fieri.

Tony Romo, Giannis Antetokounmpo (True Fieri)

Tony Romo never, ever got enough credit as a player — but as an announcer he’s become one of the most beloved figures in football. His faultless announcing style, paired with his overall likeability has made Romo the firmest Fieri in the NFL’s orbit. Nobody has anything bad to say about Romo, and we all love him.

Similarly, Giannis Antetokounmpo is almost universally loved by NBA fans, and has been since entering the league. The joy in which he plays the game, paired with a personality that’s magnetic makes him not only one of the league’s best players, but one of its most revered. Playing and thriving on a small market team helps, and unless there’s a major change in his future we can expect Giannis to be a strong Fieri in the NFL for a long time.

Rapid fire, as dictated by the SB Nation staff.

Shaquille O’Neal: Leaning Corden.

Alex Rodriguez: Leaning Fieri.

Randy Moss: True Fieri.

Brett Favre: Strong Corden.

Cris Cyborg: Leaning Fieri.

Rob Gronkowski: True Fieri.

Serena Williams: True Fieri.

Mike Krzyzewski: Leaning Fieri.

Urban Meyer: Leaning Corden.

Novak Djokavic: Strong Corden.

Annika Sorenstam: Leaning Corden.

Margaret Court: Strong Corden.

Hope Solo: Strong Corden.

Jim Boeheim: Leaning Fieri.

Tiger Woods: Leaning Fieri.

Lance Armstrong: Strong Corden.

Zach Randolph: True Fieri.

Try this method yourself. Every single athlete, coach, or owner can be put on the Corden-Fieri Scale. This will consume a lot of your day thinking about it, so be warned.

0 notes

vectorgallery · 7 years ago

Photo

3am magazine

niconomicon: a conversation with lutz graf-ulbrich

Interview by JJ Brine and Cat Marnell.

Lutz Graf-Ulbrich is a prolific German musician with a varied discography spanning several decades. He’s been a member of many groups, from the 70s art rock band Ash Ra Tempel to his current folk ensemble, 17 Hippies. What might be most intriguing to rock historians, though, is his long relationship with Nico, which he recently documented in his book, In The Shadow Of The Moon Goddess.

If The Velvet Underground was the first “alternative” rock band, Nico—the Andy Warhol Superstar and original art house chanteuse most famous for her contributions to 1967’s The Velvet Underground & Nico, the band’s debut—was the first alternative to alternative music. Warhol essentially imposed the German supermodel on the band, as though she were an art installation. The result, arguably, was the advent of contemporary pop culture.

The solo careers of Lou Reed and John Cale bore traces of their roots in the avant garde, whereas Nico’s musical sensibility seemed to have no roots at all. Rather, it was the zeitgeist that had its roots in her, ones that are still growing. She was not simply the first goth girl, but the first goth (the first use of the term “gothic” in the rock press as a musical descriptive came from Rolling Stone in 1971, in reference to Nico). She was “the most beautiful woman in the world,” whom the Ibizan authorities would not allow out of her home unveiled, for fear that her beauty would cause civil unrest. She was a tabloid fixture who had given birth out of wedlock to the son of the most famous man in France, actor Alain Delon; the model turned actress turned singer who, by Andy Warhol’s reckoning, seemed to change careers whenever something was beginning to really go well for her; the woman whose only regret was to have been born a woman instead of a man; the interdimensional songwriter who taught herself how to play the harmonium and channeled a mystical operatic alien civilization that peaked in its apparent nuclear winter; and the junkie with the lowest female voice this side of everyone.

This past summer, I met Lutz and his wife Daniela at a cafe in Berlin, along with my friend Cat Marnell, a former beauty editor and the author, earlier this year, of the amphetamine-addled memoir, How To Murder Your Life. Considering Nico’s unapologetic, perennial drug use, and the media’s determination to cast her persona in a Warholian mold—something critics have tried to do to my own work as an artist—Cat and I were perfectly placed for this assignment.

—JJ Brine

JJ BRINE: How did you meet Nico?

LUTZ GRAF-ULBRICH: We met in 1972 in Paris because we had the same manager. He promoted a concert in Paris and I was playing with a hard rock band called “Agitation Free” in Berlin. Nico was playing there too. That’s when I first saw her. Nobody knew who she really was. There was a strange aura, and lots of rumors, and nobody knew what to make of all that. Before we met she was already a mysterious thing. When she performed it was really strange, with her harmonium and the way she sang. The audience was very enthusiastic. I was stunned. And of course we talked. As we had the same manager, we met a few times. There was a party held by our manager and she took me aside. She saw my record cover and she said it was strange and frightening. Her aura and personality were just so strong that I felt like a little boy. I was 22 and she was 36.

JB: How did your love affair begin?

LG: In ’74 my band split up in June or July. I stayed in France because I loved the people and I wanted to live there as a solo musician. We met again at a musical festival we were both playing at. I was backstage with a band called “Creme Delirium” and I drank some tea, and I remembered that this band puts acid in their tea. It wasn’t normal, I felt intoxicated. I closed my eyes and played the guitar. When I opened my eyes Nico was there. I was on the acid level, and Nico was always sort of over the moon. It was a very good time. After our concerts Nico asked me where I was staying. I didn’t have a hotel and she invited me, she bought me a room. I went to her room and said bye and she said, “Oh no, you’re not getting away.” She was naked on the bed and she was very good looking. I was too shy, I went back to my own room. We sat together on the train to Paris and I played her all of my songs and the whole thing started.

CAT MARNELL: What were you guys wearing at this time?

LG: Nico was wearing a red cloak like a curtain. I was probably wearing a leather jacket.

JB: Were you a fan of hers before you two met?

LG: Of course I had known the Velvet Underground, but only some songs. I hadn’t really connected her history. I only knew a photo of her but I had forgotten about it. One day when we were together she showed me a German fashion magazine, Twen, and it all hit me. Maybe when I was sixteen I had seen this cover.

JB: How was it to be in a relationship with Nico?

LG: Nico generally liked philosophers and drug dealers and gangsters and anything like this. I was an exception to this. She didn’t hold hands in public. She called me her “German friend.” There was one time that she did give me a huge compliment. She did say in public that I was the best lover she ever had. But Nico had many lovers in her life. She could be jealous when provoked. One day she walked into “our” New York restaurant close to the Chelsea Hotel and saw me with the model Angeline, a friend of Nico’s whom she had introduced to me. Nico was very angry and she left.

JB: You and Nico remained close friends even after your love affair ended. But how did that breakup come to pass?

LG: One day we were both in her room and she wanted to be alone but I wouldn’t leave the room. So she threw an iron at me and I went for her and we fought. That was 1979.

JB: Was Nico proud of her body of work? Did she feel that she was a great artist—the greatest?

LG: Of course. I think she found herself underestimated, which was true. A lot of people say, oh yeah, she can’t sing and all that. Of course sometimes when you hear live recordings the tone was sort of off, but at the same time she was such a fantastic singer. When you listen to a song like Tananore, it’s really difficult to sing! She had such a powerful voice. Nico’s body of work was the greatest contribution to music. That’s what makes her so fascinating. The way she was composing and writing songs. There’s nobody who can really explain her music. So dark and poetic. And the combination with her voice. People talk about All Tomorrow’s Parties and Femme Fatale, but of course Nico was more than that. She thought she deserved a better audience, she should’ve sang in an opera hall and all that. But instead she was playing to this young punk audience.

JB: Do you think Nico was thinking of herself as a celebrity—as a star? Was she consistently aware of this?

LG: She was always aware and thinking of things in this way. Nico was a star and everybody knew it.

CM: What kind of scent did Nico have? What was her favorite perfume?

LG: Well, Nico did not like bathing much. She hated water, like a cat she didn’t like to get wet. But she wasn’t stinky, and I do remember her fragrance. It was Chanel. That was her favorite.

CM: Did Nico ever exercise?

LG: One time in Los Angeles, at a friend’s place, I saw her in a bathing suit and I said wow! That was the maximum.

JJ BRINE: What was her attitude toward Andy Warhol? Did she speak of him often? Did they keep in touch over the years?

LG: Andy Warhol I met for like 15 minutes in Paris, actually. Nico had her money stolen and we went to see Andy and she said, “Oh Andy, can you give me some money?” And he gave it to her. He was very generous.

[Warhol recalled this incident in a diary entry from 27 May 1977: “Nico was there with a young kid with a big bulge in his pants, she asked Bob to photograph him. Bob already had. Nico looked older and fatter and sadder. She was crying, she said, because of the beauty of the show. I wanted to give her some money but not directly so I signed a 500-franc note ($100) and handed it to her, and she got even more sentimental and said, “I must frame this, can you give me another one, unsigned, to spend?”]

JB: What do you think of the narrative presented in the documentary Nico Icon about Nico wanting to lose her good looks so as to be taken more seriously as an artist? Do you think this is in any way reductive or misleading?

LG: I don’t know what to say. I know that Paul Morrissey said that.

DANIELA GRAF-ULBRICH: I asked you the same question a few years ago and you told me she was always putting on makeup and that she was very concerned with her appearance. And that she used that as an excuse, like she didn’t want to be beautiful anymore so she gave it away.

LG: It’s true. She could be insecure. When we were living at The Chelsea at one point she had put on a lot of weight. And she didn’t like that.

JB: How do you think Nico wished to portray herself?

LG: More than anything, Nico wanted mystery. And to provide this air of mystery, Nico sometimes lied. Often, in fact. I mean, what happened to her father in WWII, or saying her grandfather was a Whirling Dervish or something, he wasn’t Turkish. Acting lessons with Marilyn Monroe, meetings with Ernest Hemingway, et cetera. She was also very self-absorbed, narcissistic. For instance, she was convinced that right before he died, Jim Morrison came back to Paris just for Nico. I’m not sure that it’s true.

JB: What do you think Nico was most proud of?

LG: Her artistry. She knew that there was nobody else like her, not anywhere. Also, she would always say in interviews that she was most proud to be the mother of her son, Ari [the result of an affair with Alain Delon, who refused to recognize his paternity].

CM: Were there some things about Nico that you came to understand as you got to know her, related to her addiction?

LG: It began when I met her. She was smoking heroin. I didn’t want to take it. But when you’re in love with a person, you want to get on their wavelength. And Nico was so hard to follow as a person, even though we were really close. I could never tell what she was thinking. When she was taking heroin she went even further away. After awhile I gave in to her. I only took it for about a year and a half, maybe in 74 and by 76 I was done. I think Nico thought she was productive! I remember she once said, “I wrote already three albums with a lot of songs. That’s enough, what more do people want?” I think she was lazy actually. She was not productive. She was sitting hallucinating. She wasn’t working on songs all the time. There were two concerts in a month or something. She would rehearse right before a concert or a few notes occasionally.

JB: Did Nico have any phobias?

LG: The sun. And that was what killed her in the end.

JB: I know that you arranged Nico’s last concert, Fata Morgana, where she performed a set of completely new material—hinting at what her next album would have been like, with her alone on her harmonium. Was that the last time you saw her before her death?

LG: Well, she slept at my place after the concert. The next day we talked and she was staying at my place, she was sick of hotels, and I took her to the airport. She was angry at the airport staff because they charged something for her harmonium and she had been told she wouldn’t have to pay but it turned out she did. I remember the woman telling me at customs, you should take care of this woman because she won’t last much longer like this. And then of course six weeks later she died.

JB: Can you tell us more about the circumstances leading up to her death?

LG: I remember she invited me to stay with her in Ibiza, telling me she was going with Ari for three months to write songs or write a book, and I wasn’t sure because she was smoking so much hash, and at that time I didn’t want to do that. But then I had this answering machine message from Ari that said, “It’s so nice, come to Ibiza with us!” And so I bought this ticket the next day. The same day I bought the ticket, I got the news she had died.

JB: If you could say one thing to Nico today, one last thing, what would it be?

LG: I would tell her how grateful I am to have had the luck and fortune to meet her, I still don’t know why she chose me to be with her. That was the great gift in my life.

ABOUT THE INTERVIEWERS

JJ Brine is the creator, owner, and artist behind the Vector Gallery installation project, which also encompasses its own religious movement, a governing body of Ministers for a self-proclaimed sovereign, Vectorian State, and even its own singular Vectorian time zone. Often called the founder of the PostHuman Art movement and the Andy Warhol of our time, you can follow “The Crown Prince of Hell” straight to heaven at jjbrine.com, or Twitter and Instagram (@jjbrine).

Cat Marnell is the author of How To Murder Your Life (2017), a memoir centered on her experiences with the revolving door of drug addiction and drug rehab by way of high fashion offices like Condé Nast, Nylon, and XOJane. Previously, she wrote a column for VICE Magazine titled “Amphetamine Logic.” You can keep up with Cat’s wizardly ways on Twitter and Instagram (@cat_marnell).

https://www.3ammagazine.com/3am/niconomicon-conversation-lutz-graf-ulbrich-nico/

25 notes · View notes

toonstarterz · 7 years ago

Text

Having a lot of free time on my commute to boot camp has made me crazy enough to write an Ikarishipping fanfic. That ain’t a complaint by the way.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12660134/1/Empathetic

Rating: T

Pairing: Paul/Dawn

Summary: Gym Battles? Easy. Winning the Pokémon League? Child's play. Becoming Dawn's stupid boyfriend? Paul's greatest challenge.

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon, TPCi, or any of its properties. Bless you, Satoshi Tajiri.

~ Empathetic ~

Contrary to what people may think, Paul is not some stone-faced, unfeeling bastard. He has emotions just like everyone else. Serious. Bitter. Exasperated. That last one’s been happening a lot lately, and the cause of it comes from everywhere. His chimchar failing to meet expectations, the trainers in the corner that won’t shut up about Brandon of the Battle Pyramid, that blue-haired friend of Ash whose name alludes him that tries to get him to show a smidgen of compassion.

Paul is exasperated.

Paul’s hates useless small talk. He always answers people with only the minimum amount of words necessary–or a cold scowl if he can help it. But that girl–Dawn, right?–is tailing behind him after he exits the Pokémon Center and it doesn’t seem like she’ll leave him alone unless he talks to her.

He mentally groans. If he has to say something, he may as well be honest.

And so he talks. He talks about his dislike for Ash, his distaste for how similar the boy is to his brother Reggie, and how inane ideas like ‘trust’ and ‘guts’ annoy him to no end.

He expects Dawn to start spouting nonsense about how right Ash is, and how wrong he is. What he doesn’t expect Dawn to say is how people can have vastly different styles despite having similar beliefs, and how those contrary styles don’t necessarily make any one person wrong.

At least, that’s what she meant to be say. Her actual answer is much more simple-minded.

But the important part is that Dawn didn’t reject him like so many others, and when your training style goes against the majority rule, that’s oddly comforting.

Paul is thankful.

He runs into her again about a year later by chance. Yes, chance. He refuses to call it ‘fate’. He just so happened to be in the area following his win at the Lumiose Gym when he bumps into Dawn right in the middle of the north plaza. It’s probably his biggest surprise of the day, second only to the gym leader he’d just beaten that was also a talking robot. They exchange awkward pleasantries, and Dawn invites him over for lunch at Restaurant Le Nah. And it’s only because Paul has no excuse, and that he’s actually quite hungry that he agrees.

He plows through the double battle with just his weavile, and helps himself to an order of soup and breadsticks while Dawn enjoys her salad. She offers to foot the bill.

It’s only later that night that Paul realizes that, by pure definition, he went on a date with Dawn.

Paul is not displeased.

Paul is not fond of pokémon contests. They’re far too showy and impractical for his sake. But while he has no interest in contests, he can respect that pokémon coordinators need a mastery of skills are that are far beyond Paul’s level of understanding.

When he sees Dawn on the broadcast trounce the competition with a combination of discharge and ice beam to create a cage of electrically-charged ice, he is quite honestly impressed.

Next time they run into each other, he asks her to teach it to him.

So they set up a date, er, meeting the next day at a local park where they have a few practice battles and in no time, Weavile and Electivire have mastered the technique completely, albeit in a style more suited for battling. As a thank you, Paul offers to buy her a meal.

As they eat in silence, A girl with giant pink ringlets saunters up to them and starts giving them the third degree.

“This guy your boyfriend?” she asks, loud enough for the other patrons to hear.

“No, Ursula,” Dawn says, barely hiding the annoyance behind a smile. “This is Paul, one of Ash’s rivals from a few years back.”

Paul makes some sort of grunting noise that simultaneously says, “yes” and “back off” to this Ursula girl. She takes the hint and exits the restaurant with a satisfied smirk.

Paul is irritated.

Less than two months have passed, and word around the coordinator circle is that the esteemed Dawn is now dating some edgelord trainer named Paul.

Paul reads the excerpt in Coordinator Monthly, clicking his tongue in distaste.

If there’s anything Paul truly hated about being a pokémon trainer, it’s the publicity. Warding off reporters, kids badgering him for battling advice, that goddamned fanclub that arose when that photo of him in an undershirt leaked online. It’s why Paul travels alone, away from all the scrutiny so he can keep all his focus on training. But all of his attempts to keep a low profile were apparently all for naught.

Zoey is the first to confront him. He cooly brushes her off, simply stating that it’s mindless gossip and completely untrue. She leaves him alone after that, but not before giving him an eye that said “you try anything funny, and I’ll break your legs”.

Barry comes soon after that, demanding at the top of his lungs for an explanation lest he fine Paul for betraying him. Paul doesn’t know what he means by that, and frankly, he doesn’t care. He gives him the same answer he gave Zoey, word for word, and Barry eventually believes him.

At some point, Kenny steps up, and Paul saves the poor guy a lot of trouble by outright denying everything before he can even get a word in.

Paul is tired.

Paul excels at a lot of things. Training, battling, pissing people off, the list goes on. But the one thing he never got the hang of is being a socially functional human being.

So when Dawn invites him over to a banquet for coordinators as her plus-one, Paul is disinterested, as if trying to find some benefit to going that will help him be a stronger trainer.

“Why?” he asks far too directly, “Just ask someone else.”

“Everyone else is busy with other plans,” Dawn explains, a bit miffed. “And you’re my only friend left in the whole region!”

Paul stiffens, his mind stuck on the word ‘friend’. When was the last time anyone ever referred to him like that? Kindergarten?

“People will get the wrong idea,” he tells her gruffly. “And I’d rather not give them another reason to think that we’re dating.”

“Since when have you ever cared about what people think of you?” she counters.

Touché. Still, he’d like to keep the pests at bay, especially now that they’ve finally started to leave him and his nonexistent love life alone. But as far as he can tell, all the coordinators at the banquet will be people he’s already explained himself to, so the possibly of another rumor spreading should be exponentially lower.

“Fine.”

Paul is naive.

After a long day of training for the Pokémon League, Paul checks into the local Pokémon Center. Nurse Joy sympathetically tells him that they’re overbooked and that he’ll need to share a room with someone in order to stay. Not surprising, he surmises. The League challengers are always monopolizing the Center during this time. He’d much rather get his own room, but he can deal with bunking with some random trainer for the night.

As the nurse hands him the room key, it’s only then that he notices Dawn further down the reception desk, a room key in her hand marked with a number the same as his own.

That night, he glances from his book as Dawn exits the shower, clad in a white rope, and her glistening, blue hair hanging over her bare shoulders.

Paul is frustrated.

Paul is a man of routine. Wake up, eat breakfast, train, eat lunch, train, eat dinner, read a book, sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. If something were to incorporate itself into his precious time, it would have to be something of great importance.

How Dawn managed to sneak her way in there, he’ll never know.

Today, Paul is listening with one ear as Dawn laments on making the semifinals of the Unova Grand Festival. She hasn’t made it this far since Sinnoh all those years ago, and understandably, she’s nervous out of her mind.

He notices Dawn’s fidgeting hand, so he places his own ice-cold palm on top of it in an attempt to calm her down. “You’ll be fine,” he says offhandedly, not even looking up from his phone.

Dawn eyes bug out, and she goes red in the face, as though Paul has violated her in some way. When she realizes that this was Paul’s weird way of showing affection, she smiles softly, and places her other hand on top of the pile.

“Thanks Paul,” she says with a sigh of relief, “You’re a good friend.”

Paul is ignorant.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

It doesn’t show on his face, but Paul feels like he was just blown back fifty feet by a hyper beam. He swerves his body to stare at Dawn as if she’s grown a second head. He scrutinizes her, looking for some trace of teasing on her expression, some hint of humor in her body language, any sort of indication that she’s only pulling his leg.

There is none.

“Why?” he asks, with all the careful seriousness he uses in battle. “I don’t date people.”

“I know, but…” Dawn bites her tongue, trying not to sound foolish. “I really like you, you know? I mean, you’re smart and determined and not as heartless as everyone says you are.”

Paul thinks she’s rationalizing. That she must be blinded by some great desire for romance that she’s ignoring all the very obvious reasons why he would not be a good boyfriend in any respect. At least, that’s what he thinks at first. He knows from first-hand experience that while Dawn can be naive, she’s not frivolous, nor is she the type to lead people on. In that case, she must honestly have some romantic interest in him, as absurd as that may sound.

And if he’s being completely and utterly and totally honest...he’s rather fond of her himself.

Just a tad.

“Fine,” he says curtly. “I’ll go out with you.”

A jubilent smile stretches across Dawn’s face, and she immediately starts listing off places to go on their first “official” date, while her boyfriend of three seconds grumbles in agreement.

Paul is content.

Paul nibbles down just below Dawn’s collarbone, eliciting a faint moan from the coordinator. He gently pushes themselves onto the bed, and slowly moves his tongue down Dawn’s figure while she straddles his waist.

At this moment, Piplup steps into the room and squawks in horror. In the shadow of darkness, all he can see is a big, scary man forcing himself onto his beloved trainer.

Piplup launches forward with a drill peck, and Paul screams loud enough to wake up the entire Pokémon Center.

While her boyfriend gets checked for rectal damage, Dawn takes Piplup into the hospital lobby to have a magnificently awkward talk about human relationships.

Paul is humiliated.

Paul isn’t sure how to feel at the moment. One the one hand, he’s just accomplished a huge part of his dream that many trainers could only hope for. On the other hand, he feels weak in the knees, as if all the attention on him is physically beating him down into the ground. Or maybe that’s just the solid gold trophy in his grasp.

“Congratulations, Paul,” Cynthia says to him with a tender smile. “May you carry the title of Sinnoh League Champion with honor.”

“Thank you.” Despite of himself, Paul smiles. As of now, nothing could ruin his relatively good mood.

At least until the press conference.

With the reporters and cameramen bombarding him like a machine gun, Paul resists the urge to curse them out and instead puts on a face of what he hopes is dignity.

“Mr. Champion, what’s the secret to your immense strength?”

“How do you respond to the allegations that you’ve abused your pokémon with illegal stimulants?”

“Is it true that you are dating Top Coordinator Dawn?”

“No comment,” Paul spits. “Next question.”

The next onslaught of paparazzi is even more ravenous, and after an hour of fending off the vullabys, Paul retreats to his hotel room. Dawn is there with a cup of tea and a comfy bed.

Paul is drained.

Paul hardly doubts himself. Oh sure, ninety-nine percent of things annoy him to no end, but barely anything makes him self-conscious. He’s so used to people chastising him for his harsh training methods that such things now slide off like butter. Years of being called a douche, a stick-in-the-mud, and an asshole has given Paul a lot of thick skin.

But when a young trainer actually called him a ‘nice guy’, Paul visibly bristles.

Worst yet, his former rival Ash Ketchum is there when it happened. As a precocious little boy dashes off in excitement after receiving the Sinnoh Champion’s autograph, Ash is giving Paul the most aggravating yet genuine shit-eating grin the latter has ever seen.

“A ‘nice guy’, huh?” Ash lightly teases. “I always knew you had a heart.”

Paul glares back at him as if to mentally punch him in the face. It isn’t the first time someone has accused him of getting ‘soft’, and it’s a trend that’s been bugging him for over a year now. They always say that it’s in the little things, such as the hint of warmness in his fierce eyes, or how he now compliments his pokémon about five percent more often than usual. And every damn time, they always say it began when he started dating Dawn. Paul cringes at the possibility of losing his edge to romance.

“No need to worry,” he tells the young man with the pikachu on his shoulder. “That’s just the image I have to put on as Champion. Absolutely nothing’s changed about me.”

Paul glances aside, having made his point. He hopes that Ash, is his infamous ability to take everything at face-value, will drop the subject after that. But when he sees the guy stifling a laugh, a surge of rage rushes over Paul’s body.

“What?” he barks.

Ash crosses his arms, knowingly. “You just said ‘No need to worry!’ You’re talking like her now!”

It takes all of three seconds for the the color to drain from Paul’s face. He races forward in shame, trying to hide his mortified expression from Ash’s exuberance. No amount of humiliating defeats could rival the terror that comes with adopting your girlfriend’s catchphrase. He stops in the middle of a clearing, his mind racing as Ash catches up to him.

At what point had Dawn brainwashed with all these flowery emotions? Paul considers smashing his head with a rock to self-induce amnesia and revert back to his old, happily unhappy self. But then he remembers there’s too much to lose.

Like it or not, Dawn had been good to him–like a spoonful of bitter medicine that tastes awful at first, but makes you feel better in the long run. Whenever he was doing more than his daily ten hours of training, Dawn would remind him to eat dinner. Whenever he forgot his ‘please and thank you’s, Dawn would punch him in the arm. Whenever the stress of being Champion was too much and he sentenced himself to solitary confinement, Dawn would drag him out so they could watch Cleavon Schpielbunk movies over ice cream sundaes.

Indeed, every ounce of logic was screaming that Dawn was ruining him. But in his shriveled up, raisin-like heart, he knows that Dawn is probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him. And that feeling he gets when Paul realizes that he, the man who worked through blood, sweat, and tears to get to the top, couldn’t handle the fun-loving nature of his own wonderfully imperfect girlfriend can only be summed up in the most prominent word in his dictionary.

Paul is pathetic.

#pokemon #pokeani #dawn #paul #ikarishipping #fanfiction #zoey #barry #kenny #ash ketchum #cynthia #piplup #ursula

217 notes · View notes

zoebechtle-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Unlikely Chapter 10

I took Basil’s words to heart and thought intensely about how dating Niall would affect my life. I spent an evening searching online for girls he and his bandmates had dated - the reactions were daunting at best. Their lives were definitely thought to be public property, and everyone seemed to have an opinion. The women they were involved with were harassed and torn apart for every single move they made. Rumors ranged from the absurd to downright cruel. It was suggested that a pregnancy was faked, that members were being closeted, and various girls had used members to further their own agendas for fame. It was frightening to say the least. And if I had an ounce of common sense and self-preservation, I would have sprinted off in the other direction (instead of one direction - snort). But I didn’t. I had to learn my lessons the hard way.

I stayed at Niall’s house a few more times over the next few weeks, and he at mine. He loved when I cooked for him courtesy of the recipe book Grandma B had made me when I moved away to school (he did inform me that his trainer, however, would hate me). I caught myself stocking up on Stella and his favorite snack, hummus and carrots. He replaced his regular sized bottles of bumble & bumble shampoo and conditioner with the economy sized ones, and I found a new flat iron and my favorite face wash on the counter in his bathroom. He’d even gone as far as stashing an emergency Cadbury bar in the house at all times, having survived the aftermath of me having a chocolate craving with nothing handy. We laid in bed at night telling each other stories, giggling or sometimes crying. Mornings after we spent the night together I'd wake up to him cuddled around me. He had no problem showing affection, if anything, he was handsy as hell. When he went out of town for a week and a half at the Masters and then a vacation, I genuinely missed him. So much. And that scared me more than anything.

One night shortly after he’d returned from The Masters, he showed up at my door with a delivery guy and two flat screen TVs. The shocked look on my face only lasted a second, then immediately turned into a glare. “Can I help you, Horan?” I spread my arms across the door frame, blocking his entrance. He and his lackey weren’t coming in unless I got a goddamn explanation.

“It’s a gift, Z!” he pleaded. I narrowed my eyes in response. He pouted his plump little lips at me and shot me the most pathetic puppy dog eyes I’d ever seen. I grabbed the collar of his light cotton henley and yanked him through the door. “You - inside. You two wait here.” Niall shot me a look and I rolled my eyes, huffing out a “please” to the stunned delivery men in my hallway.

Niall toed at the carpet inside my door, sheepishly glancing up at me as I paced in front of him. “What the hell Niall? A). I don’t want you spending money on me, and B). shouldn’t a gift be something I want and/or I would use? I don’t need a tv, let alone two of them! I don’t even have cable or anything to watch on the TV!” I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. “You're being fucking ridiculous!”

“Yeah, about that…” He tried to look innocent and gave me a smile.

I froze and stared at him, slack-jawed and pissed. “Seriously? You got cable for my flat?! I don’t watch TV! Netflix is all I need.”

Niall reached out and took my hands in his mitt-sized palms and softly stroked across my knuckles. “I can’t watch golf or footie on Netflix, petal.” Petal. I was quickly learning this was his nickname to pacify me. And it usually worked because honestly, how cute is that?

“You’re kidding me. So you want to come over here just to watch sports?”

He gave me a smarmy grin, “Gotta have something to watch while you’re sucking me off.”

I literally growled at him and pushed his shoulders while he laughed. “C’mon, I was waiting here for an hour the other night when ya got stuck behind that accident coming home. And I get bored when you take a shower.”

I crossed my arms with a pout, “You could always JOIN me in the shower.”

His shit eating grin lit up his face and his pure blue eyes glowed, “Sure, after I check the scores.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek while I was frozen in place still pouting at his antics. He flung the front door open and waved to the delivery men to come in. “This way gentleman! The lady will be keeping the TVs!”

The next Tuesday night I was surprised to hear the TV playing when I went to unlock my door. Niall hadn’t told me he was coming over. And yes, he had a key - it was just easier.

“Honey, I’m hooooome.” Rory McIlroy was being interviewed on the screen (Christ, I knew golfers by name now), so I knew he couldn’t be far away. He stuck his head out of the kitchen, and I jogged over to him, throwing my arms around his neck. When I leaned in for a kiss, I noticed his face was red and his hair looked like he’d been yanking it out by the roots. Also, he looked like he was going to throw up.

“Are you okay? Are you sick?” I backed away slowly. Being sick was not on my agenda for this week, and I really didn’t want to take care of someone with the man flu. I could only imagine how whiny Niall would be.

“No. Just gotta talk to ya about something.” The thumbnail went into his mouth, and I felt my stomach drop. He hadn’t seemed this wrecked about something since he told me about the girl in LA. Oh Christ. He’d been in the States and the Bahamas a few weeks ago. Had he done something stupid? I looked around for the nearest blunt object in case I needed to hit him.

“The Daily Mail has pics they’re going to publish tomorrow…” My stomach dropped instantly.

“Pics of WHOM, NIALL?!” My voice edged up up a notch, and was very loud. My hands had turned into little blocks of ice, and I could feel my cheeks on fire. Now I was going to be the one to throw up. All of my physical anxiety symptoms in less than ten seconds. A new record.

He rubbed his hand over his face and pulled roughly at his hair. “Us. At quiz night last week. You sitting on my lap when Paul was cleaning up the spilled pint, a couple of us kiss-” I instantly relaxed my shoulders and let out a breath. Niall registered my reaction and it dawned on him why I was so worked up. “Jesus Christ, Zoe, did you think I was going to tell you they were pics of me and another girl?!”

I slid down and sat on the floor of my kitchen because my legs felt like jello. They were pics of us, doing normal couple stuff. That I could handle. Niall squatted in front of me, picking up my chin.

“Did ya really think I was going to tell you they were pics of me with someone else? Z, no baby. I told you that.” The hurt expression on his face almost broke my heart. I couldn’t lie to him, so I shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just walked in and you were freaking out, and said pictures, and, I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just spazzed. The last time I saw you like this you told me about the girl in LA. I don’t remember anyone taking pictures of us.” Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill down my cheeks at any moment. I hated the broken look on his face. I leaned up to stroke his cheek. “You shouldn’t bend like that, it’s bad for your knee.

“Yeah, usually you don’t know they’re being taken,” he moved into a sitting position across from me so our legs were touching. “I’d like to bitch slap the person that invented a fucking camera on a phone.” I let him pull me closer into a comforting hug.

Then I heard my toilet flush and I jumped a foot. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, Christ. Yeah. Bas is here. We need to figure out what’s going on. Kimmy is on her way, too.” Alright, Basil just shit in my bathroom, which hadn’t been cleaned since last year, and Niall’s manager whom I’ve never met was on her way to my house. Ace.

By the time Kimmy (who was bloody adorable) arrived, Bas, Niall, and I were all two drinks into the night. Niall had called to order us Thai, but my stomach was in no shape to eat. “Got ya some coconut soup - think that’ll stay down?” He whispered in my ear, obviously having heard me wretch in the bathroom. I laid my head on his shoulder, and he played with my hair, chatting with Bas about golf, and gnawing on his hand. I knew it was going to be a clusterfuck, but honestly, seeing him tear himself apart was worse. I grabbed his hand out of his mouth and kissed it.

Once the food arrived, everyone tucked in but me. These people obviously weren’t blessed with the nervous stomach gene.

“Okay, so what do we do? There’s no way to stop them, is there?” I started off.

“Short of an injunction, no.” Kim looked at me over her noodles. “And injunctions are saved for big shit, like the time the Daily Star alluded to Niall having a crack problem.”

“It was meth, not crack,” he corrected.

I raised an eyebrow at her, and turned to the boy on my left. “Junkie.”

“This kind of thing is probably best if we don’t respond. We’ve made it a point to not comment on Niall’s personal relationships in the past. It worked when Greg caused a fuss, and with all the Selena rumors.” I nodded at Kim, and Niall squeezed my hand.

Bas leaned forward. “Zoe, it’s going to be like I told you before. The stuff being said about you won’t be nice. And your entire life is going to be on Twitter within an hour. You’d probably do best to stay offline the next few days. And take a few vacation days from work.” I could feel Niall tense next to me.

“No, I can’t do that.” All eyes turned to me. “I mean, yeah, I’ll stay offline. But I can’t take random days off with no notice. It’ll leave everyone in a lurch. My kids don’t handle change well. Me not being there will fuck everything up.”

“I understand, but I don’t thi-”

“Bas, she said no.” Niall’s voice was harsh. “See if we can get someone to drive her to and from.”

“Not necessary. I don’t need a damn driver.”

“Z, we’ve been through this, babe. Let me do this.” Niall looked annoyed and tired, and almost pleading. I nodded. I can play nice.

Basil tried again, “I’d feel better if you stayed at the house at least the next couple of nights. It minimizes your exposure.”

“Okay. But only if he,” pointing to Niall, “agrees to make me breakfast.” No one really laughed at my obvious attempt of a joke. Lame.

“About your social media, then.”

“I deleted Facebook and Twitter after we talked.” Niall looked at me with wide eyes. Obviously he hadn’t noticed my missing tweets. “Instagram is only people I know personally. And I removed anything that could be considered risque. I’ve only used SnapChat a handful of times. There’s LinkedIn, but that’s basic shit.” I’d spent one evening last week trying to clean up my digital footprint. I’m sure I did a horrible job, but at least basic info seekers were taken care of.

Basil nodded at me. Dare I say he looked a little appreciative? “You might want to let your family know this is coming. They very likely will get calls. And your close friends.”

“Okay.” Now to wait for my life to explode.

I said goodbye to Kimmy, and went into my room to pack for a few days at Casa del Horan. As I was trying to decide what shoes to take, I sent a group text to my crew. Niall laid across the bed, watching.

“FYI, pics of N and I are being published trmw.”

“If ppl come calling, please only use your best insults.”

“(Also, fuck me. Everyone is freaking out and I don’t know what to do.)”

Hannah offered to fight anyone that messed with me. Carly had her back. The most helpful advice, as always, was from Paul. “You’re going to become internet hated!”

I laid down next to Ni, tucking my face into his neck. “Is this really going to be that big of a shit show? Fans seem to like you a lot and you've never had a lot of drama.”

“Been checking up on me, yeah? No, not much drama. We don't have a lot to base off of-I've only publicly dated a few girls.”

I tried to explain to my mom what was going on. She knew I had a boyfriend and that he was a singer, but she had no idea who he was or his popular culture standing. Her knowledge of music ended in 1984. She’d spoken to him on the phone once when he answered for me as I tried to unlock the door, and couldn’t understand anything he said because of his accent. She could not grasp that it was a big deal that pictures of him with me would cause an uproar. Finally, I gave up and just asked her not to speak to anyone about me, and to tell my dad and brother the same. They were definitely the liabilities.

Bas drove us back to Niall’s where I ended up watching Anchorman for the eighth time with Willie and Deo while catching up on some paperwork (that had been my plan for the evening until picturegate blew up). The boys were obviously aware of what was going on-Deo had bought me Ben and Jerry’s and Willie produced a bottle of wine. Niall wandered in and out of the room on the phone, pulling his hair and raising his voice. His normally animated face was in a scowl so deep that I feared it would be permanent. However the more I got used to the idea of the pictures, the less I found myself caring. If this was going to be real, then eventually we were going to be spotted. It wasn’t my style to live my life in the shadows, and I loved Niall (a fact I still hadn’t actually worked up the ovaries to tell him). People were going to have something to say - I knew that the second I looked up Louis’ girlfriend. But my skin was fairly thick. I’d spent 20 years hating myself, and the past few trying to reverse all those negative emotions. It would take a lot more than nasty people on the internet to drag me back down. Also, I basically had majored in avoidance of real life issues.

I ended up falling asleep alone in Niall’s gigantic bed. I’d gone in for some quiet after the movie and conked out. When I woke up around midnight to use the bathroom, I could hear him talking to his cousins in the living room. I padded down the hallway to try and convince Niall to come to bed, but stopped just as I was about to step into the living room. He sounded wrecked and absolutely unlike himself. Their voices were low enough that I knew instantly they were having an important conversation. So, like any self-respecting anxiety-prone adult, I eavesdropped.

“There’s no going back after this, ya know? It’s never gonna be the same. She things she’s prepared, but…” He let out a groan and I could hear his body flop back against the couch cushions. Willie took a deep breath and tried to reassure him. I knew Willie had my back, but my heart still warmed as he spoke. “Niall, you’ve gotta trust her a little, son. Zoe’s tough as nails when she needs to be. Give her some credit yeah? She forgave your dumb ass for runnin’ off to the coast and getting your dick wet, I think she can handle some jealous teen girls on the internet.” I choked down a laugh, making a mental note that I owed Willie a pint or three. Niall let out a deep sigh and I strained closer to hear him clearly.

“Mate, I’m serious. What the fuck am I gonna do if she runs? I love her, Will. Been in love with her since the night she wore my hat.”

I covered my mouth. We barely knew one another then. Well, he knew way more about me than I did about him. My heart shattered as I realized he didn’t get how strongly I felt about him. Talking about my feelings wasn’t exactly my strong suit, but I clearly I needed to get my head out of my ass and quick. I retreated silently back to his room and crawled under the covers, my mind reeling from the emotional toll of the evening. When Niall finally came to bed, I curled up next to him, silently trying to relay my emotions through my fingertips and onto his skin. I traced the dark stubble across his jaw, pressing gently into the dimple in his chin. He squeezed my hip, pulling my body towards him while I continued trailing my hands down his neck and arm. Drawing in a shaky breath I whispered softly, “It’s going to be ok Ni. We’re going to be ok.” I felt his body sink into the mattress with relief and without another word he rolled me onto my back and pressed himself along the length of my body. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and we held each other, sharing soft touches and gentle kisses. Propping himself up on his elbows he rested his forehead against mine. “I need ya, Z.” I pressed my lips to his instantly, murmuring a “yes” into his mouth.

We made love slowly, purposefully. I could see in his eyes that there were a million and one things he wanted to tell me, but couldn’t. He was trying to confess his feelings to me the only way he knew how. As his thrusts became less precise I could feel myself getting closer to the edge of my release. When I finally came, I called out his name, but it might as well have been a declaration of love the way my heart nearly burst with emotion. As I watched him come undone above me, his face illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the blinds, I knew he was it. He was my forever.

The emotion was still heavy in his room as we recovered from our tryst so I took the opportunity to bring us back to normal by acting like a complete jackass.

“Ni?”

“Yeah, babe.” I was lying on his chest with a leg thrown over his thighs, nuzzling his chest.

“Promise me something?” He tensed a bit, and kissed my forehead.

“Anything.”

“Will you always look at me like I’m the prettiest girl at the party? Sort of like it’s 2014 and I’m Harry Styles?”

There was a beat of complete silence before he looked over at me and rolled his eyes. “Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” He scoffed and pushed my pillow over my face as I dissolved into giggles. “I’m going to block YouTube on your phone, ya nutter.”

True to my promise to Bas, I did not get online Wednesday or Thursday other than work email. Of course, people found their way into my official inbox, and I had to talk to our IT department about setting up blocks. The subject lines alone were almost amusing in their vitriol, “Fat Cunt Leave Niall Alone!” “Skank” and my personal favorite, “Niall Wouldn’t Suck Your Dick”. Someone needed an anatomy lesson. There were a few photographers outside of the clinic, and Phil, a security guard assigned to Zoe detail (I asked for a cool nickname like the Secret Service use and he shook his head at me) took me out of the backdoor. It could have been better, but it could have sucked more.

I insisted on going to quiz night. This was my routine and my life, and by God, no one was going to stop me. Niall and Bas probably wanted to murder me, but for the most part I’d gone along with their wishes, so they could stand to cut me some slack. I tried hard to ignore all the new faces at the pub, having a feeling they were there just for me. Niall was already there, chatting with Paul and Deo when I arrived. He looked relieved, and I gave him a huge smile. Might as well give the people what they’re asking for, I thought, as I kissed him hello. And gave him an ass grab.

“Thirsty, hmmm?” He murmured in my ear. PDA wasn’t usually my thing, but there’s always an exception to the rule.

“A little,” I conceded. “Waking up next to you in the morning starts my day off on a very different foot than I’m accustomed to.” He smiled against my cheek. I turned to head to the bathroom confident in my feminine charms. Then I ran into the front of Basil, who was carrying three pints to the table. Well, make that two pints since one was dripping down the front of my shirt. Son of a bitch. Niall’s laugh echoed through the bar.

When I returned to the table, several rounds with the hand dryer later, Niall was shoving his phone back into his pocket, and had a smirk on his face that I didn’t trust.

“So help me, you’d best not be ready to make fun of the fact that I reek of yeast and hops.”

“Not at all, petal. Not at all.” That fucking smile. He was up to something. It was one of the first genuine smiles I’d seen from him in two days, though, so I’d let it be. Then I noticed that Paul looked terrified. And Hannah was shaking her head. Curious, I quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t look at me. I just walked in, I had nothing to do with it.”

“With what?” I whipped my head to Niall and Paul, and caught Deo trying to hold in a laugh. “What did you do?”

“Please don’t hit me, Z,” Paul begged. Well that pretty much cemented the fact that I was going to want to.

“What.did.you.do.? Paul Anthony Byers, you’d best come clean right now! And remember,” I gestured to a laughing Bas, “I have security now!” I was terrified. And Niall was giggling next to me.

“I didn’t know he didn’t know!” Paul was pleading.

“C’mon, Z. Don’t be so CUMBERsome,” Deo spit out.

“Baby, do you want eggs BENEDICT in the morning?” Niall was officially slapping his knee he was laughing so hard.

I turned to Paul with bugged eyes. “Oh my fucking God, YOU TOLD HIM?” My voice was just shy of screeching.

“He was commenting on how well you were taking his fans wanting to burn you in effigy! I just said it was because you had some firsthand experience with fangirl problems!” Paul tried to hide behind Han, who scooted away. I buried my scorching face on the table.

“So, Cumberbatch, huh?” Niall was cracking up in my ear.

“Shut up. He’s an exemplary actor.”

“So much so that you drove out to Cardiff to watch them film?” Niall had his face propped up on his hand and he was smirking at me wickedly. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to slap that stupidly gorgeous smirk off his stupidly beautiful face.

Paul took my hesitation as an invitation to humiliate me further. “On more than one occasion! And waited outside the stage door after a performance of Hamlet.” Paul was ever so helpful. I pointed my finger at him. I think he was confident about that fact that I hadn’t jumped over the table yet. And ever the ham, he realized that Niall was enjoying it, so he added, “The week he announced his engagement she was going to delete her Twitter. He clutched at his heart, and screwed up his face in an unbelievable shitty impression of me. ‘Paulie, it just hurts too much!’”

There it was. My fangirl shame. I was a Cumberbitch. And my boyfriend, whose face had launched a thousand ships, found it hysterical.

“So I relate to your fans. Sue me,” I sniffed, crossing my arms across my chest. I looked like a petulant toddler. With boobs.

“Aw, petal, don’t be like that,” he wrapped his arms around me. “Just tell me you’re not into slash, okay?”

I would not confirm or deny. (Sherlock + Watson = 4eva)

9 notes · View notes

speedyseastars · 5 years ago

Text

Which Tracks Should Host F1 Races?

This is going to be a shitpost with way too much thought put into it. Also I have paid exactly zero attention to the pandemic so that will also be disregarded. This could’ve also applied in general but I can’t think more than 5 minutes ahead.

First off the FIA is not good at making the list of Grade 1 tracks readable, like this wonderful pdf that is the official list as of March 2020 hurts to read. Second I do not care for the rules, Chain Bear did a video of them (you can google it y’all are not 5), as evidenced by Monaco’s continued existence the rules can be thrown out the window and they are adding tracks that break said rules (Zandvoort)

Abu Dhabi (Yas Marina): NO FFS DO NOT MAKE ME SUFFER. Does anyone actually like Yas Marina as an actual track? I sincerely hope not. Title deciders are good here but in an era of Lewis Hamilton & Merc being better than everyone that doesn’t happen, and it’s not the actual racing making those races good it’s the suspense of not knowing who will be champion.

Albert Park: We’ve already tried to race there and it’s in the middle of bloody nowhere on a global level so no.

Bahrain: Okay there’s numerous layouts so indent time;

GP Layout: Tried and tested track, it’s good. Charles needs redemption. Oasis Layout: Too short, it’s shorter than Monaco Outer Layout: There’s rumors of this one, ‘oval type’ descriptors make me very much say yes please can we try this it sounds fun. Endurance Layout: WEC doesn’t even use this it’s that bad. Fuck no.

Baku: Street track, already cancelled.

Buriram: GIVE ALEX A HOME RACE!!!!

Catalunya: No, I’d rather die. It’s already confirmed and I hate it so much BARCELONA IN AUGUST IS HELL I KNOW THIS FROM EXPERIENCE. It’s not that bad but it’s godawful and going in August is going to make it so much worse.

COTA: Yes please. COTA’s one of my favourite tracks on the F1 calendar. Okay there’s the slight issue of the bumps caused by the track literally sinking but they repaved bits?

Dubai: I woke up at 3am to watch cars be rained on here, I want some actual track action please F1 give me.

Estoril: You know what let’s just give Portugal all the races. At Portimao.

Fiorano: It’s too short and literally on Ferrari’s doorstep this feels like a bad idea.

Fuji: I do know Japan is saying no events so alas no Fuji, I like Fuji though so maybe replace China with a second Japan GP for 2021????

Hockenheim: Yeah, Mercedes doesn’t need redemption and I feel like we’re all a bit in love with the place after 2019. Honestly I don’t care and the track can’t afford F1.

Hungaroring: People shit on it but I like it so yes please.

Imola: The whole San Marino thing literally sparks rage but the track owners really want a race so can we just give them one to shut them up.

IMS (Indianapolis): NO PLEASE NO. The track that caused this post. I had a 3am realisation that I hate IMS when it’s any series other than Indycar there. The road course is nice and that is what F1 would use but I just don’t want F1 at IMS. It’s been 15 years to the day since that race at IMS but we need to wait like 40 years. I’m sorry I just fucking hate IMS.

Jerez: I don’t like Jerez and I don’t know why. I just don’t like.

Kuwait: Yep, Kuwait has a grade 1 track that I bet you most people don’t know it exists. Images will suggest it’s in the middle of nowhere but there is a Starbucks 500m from the track. I’d say give it a go but it’s another middle east track and based on what I read the only people who race here are rich locals on the weekends. Probably better than Abu Dhabi but we have Dubai and Bahrain.

Magny-Cours: I have nothing to say about this track?? It exists, is probably better than Paul Ricard. I think some fans want this?

Mexico: Mexico’s just a great track so this is a yes. Also I’d like to see the car elevator again.

Monaco: Street track, already cancelled. I’m sad I like Monaco.

Montreal: Oh Canada... I love you please stay on the Canada so Seb can defend his win

Monza: Arguably the best track on the calendar. It has to stay.

Moscow: If it’s better than Sochi I will say yes.

“Motorland Alcaniz”: Turns out this is Aragon from the MotoGP calendar? It is a Tilke track but it does look unique so maybe we can swap it for Barcelona? Honestly I was more confused as to where/what this track was because the official document has all these official names no one uses.

Mugello: Italy has good tracks, F1 tested here ~2012 reactions were positive. GIVE US MORE RACES IN ITALY

New Dheli: Oh okay this is the Buddh Circuit btw, very forgettable track so let’s just forget it’s on the list.

Paul Ricard: Okay maybe there’s a magical layout that makes for the best F1 race ever but the runoff makes me nauseous and very drowsy. Great cure for insomnia, not good for anything else.

Portimao: YES YES A THOUSAND TIMES YES. I love Portimao okay? Portugal and Portimao deserve a chance to host an F1 race and this is the perfect opportunity. I’m too biased in favour of this track okay.

Sepang: YES BABY. So many of us want this track back, It’s wonderful, Perfect, Beautiful. Sepang is the nice girl your mother approves of.

Shanghai: 2018 might’ve been good and I totally didn’t download it to my dodgy SD card of F1 races but that was Daniel’s work alone. Does anyone remember what happened in 2019? No it was that boring us Europeans all went back to bed. As did the Americans.

Silverstone: Very good track, Iconic. Unfortunate country location but heyyy not a bad track to have as a home track.

Sochi: Races here make me cry it’s that bad.

Suzuka: Alas it is in Japan but I love Suzuka and last year was so fun but I really do think they should run the race in April because typhoons are scary.

Bonus: Singapore!!! I think the list is inaccurate because this brilliant street track is nowhere to be found. Alas it is a street track and cancelled for 2020 but I cried so much over it I will fight anyone who says it’s bad.

#f1 #i promise i am not drunk #just emotional and hormonal #and filled with shower thoughts

0 notes

howaminotinthestrokesyet · 5 years ago

Text

The Beatles/Beach Boys/Led Zeppelin: Random Quarantine Thoughts

The Beatles

1. The Beatles Vs. The Rolling Stones... In another article, I spoke about the fact that we’re comparing these two bands as far as legacy is like apples and oranges. The Beatles were together for nine years, while the Rolling Stones have been together for 50 years. The Rolling Stones have released many more albums than the Beatles, which means they had many more opportunities to throw stuff at the wall to see what sticks. The other part of it is the fact that the Rolling Stones in the 1960’s were always chasing the Beatles creatively. I am reminded of when the Stones had a party to celebrate the release of Beggars Banquet, which was the appearance of the Jagger-Richards Collaboration. The Beatles were there and they played the White Album, which had not been released yet. Everyone was blown away by that album, instead of Beggars Banquet.

2. John Lennon Vs. Paul McCartney... An analogy I always make when discussing the dynamic between Paul McCartney and John Lennon is the former was VH1, while the latter was MTV. Now, please note I’m talking about MTV in its early days when the channel actually played music. McCartney symbolized moving towards the mainstream. His music, and for the most part his life, illustrated that fact. In contrast, Lennon was much more rock ‘n’ roll, where he liked to take chances, stir things up, and gradually began to move away from that middle road of popularity.

3. No Deep Cuts... I was thinking that bands are always referring to concerts, where they played deep cuts, but with the Beatles that might be a bit difficult. Their entire catalog has been lionized, analyzed, and covered via pop culture in every way with everything. They are one of the few bands that simply does not have hardly any deep cuts at all. Now, granted there are songs that people do not know, mostly from the early days, but those songs are few and far between.

4. Brian Epstein Was Actually The Fifth Beatle... People are always talking about who was the fifth Beatle. My answer would be the late manager, Brian Epstein, who passed away in 1967. The reason being was that he literally handled everything on the business side, up to that point. The band had absolutely no idea about much of anything on that side of things. After his death, the Beatles decided to start Apple and handle those things themselves, which created a division within the band. Paul started to take the lead on many things causing a rift with the other members. The other aspect to this, which contributed to the failure of Apple was that as time passed their decisions sometimes did not make a lot of sense or they failed to follow through.

5. Yoko Ono Did Not Break Up The Beatles But She Did Not Help... I know you have heard the age old argument that Yoko Ono broke up the Beatles. I do not buy that argument. Yet, her presence in Lennon’s life merely sped up the breakup. The growing rift between Lennon and McCartney over music, celebrity, politics, drugs, and everything else under the sun was happening before she came along. Now, my issue with Ono was that Lennon put her on the same level creatively as McCartney and the others. This is ridiculous to even think about actually. How did an abstract, experimental artist like her earn the ability to influence one of the greatest songwriters ever so much, but she did. Perhaps, he was simply looking for an outlet to reinforce his leanings towards the fringes of culture at that time.

The Beach Boys

1. One Beach Boy You Love to Hate... I am not going to mince words when talking about Mike Love. The dude is a straight up asshole when you get right down to it. As time has passed, his ego has taken over in many fruitless attempts to change the narrative. I do sympathize with him struggling as the lead singer, while Brian Wilson received all the credit as the band’s resident genius. He simply is going about it the wrong way. Now, in interviews and that sorry excuse for an autobiography he wrote, all of it sounds like very sour grapes. One must not forget as well that he was always this way. The reason Smile was never finished among other things was because he fought hard to continue doing surf songs. He argued that Wilson’s album was silly and would never sell.

2. One Beach Boy That Actually Surfed... One of the things I find funny about the Beach Boys, who did all these songs about surfing emerged in that drummer Dennis Wilson was the only one who actually knew how to surf. The other band members were pretty much borderline dorks when they started the band in high school. All of those songs about catching waves, chasing girls, and having fun were all about how Dennis Wilson lived his life.

3. One Beach Boy You Didn’t Know... Carl Wilson has always struck me as the one member of the band that people really do not know that much about at all. Fans know him as the deep voice of “Barbara Ann” and other songs, but not much else. This is why I was fascinated about his death when I learned that he was the glue that held the band together for a long time. Mike Love did not dare declare any sort of war against Brian Wilson until Carl passed away.

4. One Beach Boy Who Was Not Made For Rock and Roll... No single person in rock ‘n’ roll history has had as many triumphs and as much sadness in the course of one career. He is probably the greatest songwriter in the history of modern pop music, but he suffered endlessly for his art. From a childhood filled with abuse from his father to drug addiction and mental issues. On top of all that was the monumental pressure to use his musical gift for others again and again. Wilson was and still is a fragile soul, who seemed in no way prepared for the cruelty of the music business. The worst part of it, as a fan, was the power struggle within the Beach Boys. You had Mike Love, who contributed very little creatively, but always stifling his artistic vision again and again. I just wonder how much great music we missed out on because of him.

5. And Then There’s Murray... Finally, you had his father, Murray. This is always a catch 22 as you discuss his influence on the legacy of the Beach Boys. For one, he was a horrible person. He abused his sons physically, verbally, financially, and emotionally. Yet, the man was a musician, who encouraged his sons in that way. This is the one connection to his father that Brian Wilson can never step away from. Would Brian Wilson have been any different if his father had not been a musician?

Led Zeppelin

1. A Dressed Up Blues Band... Led Zeppelin was essentially a hard blues band for most of their early albums. They took old blues songs that were well known, then rearranged them into psychedelic rock songs. The band took these traditional blues classics and pretty much remixed it into late 60s hard rock blues on steroids. This would have been fine, if they had not tried to take credit for the songs as being completely original. Critics saw right through it, which emerged as probably why the band was immediately looked down upon from music writers. One of the interesting things about their decision to use blues songs was Jimmy Page did not think he had the time to write new original songs before a tour.

2. Robert Plant What If’s... One of the biggest what if’s of Zepplin has always been will Robert Plant ever agree to a tour. What if he had not offered so much resistance since the 1980s for any kind of reunion? For years, Plant never wanted to reunite, with the only exception being a duet with Jimmy Page, but not John Paul Jones. They did eventually reunite for one show in celebration of the founder of Atlantic records. If there was to be any hope of reunion, it should have happened then. Plant finally relented eventually, but by that time, John Paul Jones was working on an opera at the time. I believe it is time to face the blues music that this is never going to happen.

3. The Songwriting and Musicianship of John Paul Jones Saved the Band... One of the things that a lot of fans may not realize how important John Paul Jones was to the overall success of the band. He played multiple instruments including bass guitar keyboards, mellotron, and many others. For this reason, the band never needed to hire any musicians to play on stage with them because Jones would switch to whatever instrument was needed at the time. He was also a top-notch composer and arranger of music. His signature is all over songs like “All My Love,” “Trampled Underfoot,” “Kashmir,” “In the Light,” “Fool in the Rain,” and many more. Beginning with Physical Graffiti in the albums that followed, Jones was able to substantially layer the band’s sound, which resonates with music lovers still today.

4. I Told You Black Magic... Jimmy Page in the 1970’s was a big fan of the occultist Alastair Crowley. This fandom even led him to buy Crowley‘s former house in 1972. Page thought it would be a cool place to possibly write some music and give him inspiration as well. He never really spent any time there. Page hired a gentleman to manage the house for him, which he did and eventually raised his family there. Although, the manager did report some very strange occurrences at the house, which was always rumored to be cursed by Crowley. The guitarist’s decision to even purchase the house is probably a really good illustration on why you should not use heroin.

5. Led Zeppelin Was Not Heavy Metal...An ongoing argument for a long time has always been whether or not Led Zeppelin invented heavy metal. I am here to tell you that they did not do so, but they heavily influenced it. Black Sabbath was the first heavy metal band, but for a long time they distanced themselves from that label. Led Zeppelin was more of a hard rock band or a hard rock blues band, who dabbled in other genres including folk and reggae. Not only was their music a bit softer in places, but the themes were much more positive when compared with heavy metal. Sabbath ushered in themes of darkness, evil, the devil, and for the most part riffs that were fast and loud always. Yet, in later years, the distinction between heavy metal, metal, and hard rock was blurred again and again making it difficult to understand the differences.

0 notes