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renaerys · 3 years ago

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37. For Blossutch 👀 can’t wait to binge read all of these lol -Star

37. “If you want to act like a slut, you can dress like one.”

T-posing for feminism.

This fic is part of a prompt challenge that is now closed to new requests, but you can read all the completed submissions here. Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we’re getting creative here.

xxx

Dane Blakely was 140 pounds of protein powder in a five and a half foot body, and still he seemed to tower over anyone in his way. He’d cornered So-eun Park on her way to second period because he could not take a hint, and now there was no getting around him.

“I saw you with that loser at the Shankaplex on Saturday, don’t even try to deny it,” Dane said.

So-eun had her back to the lockers, but she held her ground. “Elmer’s not a loser, and it’s none of your business who I go out with.”

Rookie mistake dating the first guy who asked her out when she transferred to Townsville High School at the beginning of the year. So-eun had corrected that poor decision quickly, but Dane was one of those unfortunate guys whose parents had forbidden the word no in their house when he was a child.

“I’m just saying your standards have gone way down.”

“Oh my god, I’m not having this conversation with you.” She went around him, and he didn’t stop her.

“Yeah, fine. If you want to act like a slut, you can dress like one.”

There were not many people around to hear, and Dane didn’t shout it, but she suddenly felt a hundred invisible eyes on her all the same. Unthinking, she gripped the collar of her sweater dress and flushed. Her first instinct was to check the length of her skirt, and she flushed even harder, ashamed of her own weakness.

Her second instinct was to jump out of the way of class superstar Blossom Utonium, who’d been making her way down the hall with fire in her eyes.

“What did you just say?” Blossom confronted Dane, who immediately backed up…

…right into a T-posing Butch Jojo.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Dane whirled on Butch.

“The lady asked you a question, dude,” Butch said, still T-posing and taking up half the hallway.

So-eun was not the only person to wander over, curious about the confrontation unfolding at the Senior locker bank. From the moment So-eun stepped foot in these halls, she’d learned about the Powerpuff Girls, aka literal Superheroes walking among the mortals. Blossom and her Super sisters were known for interfering in fights and disagreements that got out of hand, since no one was going to go against a girl who could shatter your spine with a flick of her fingers. But Butch and his brothers tended to avoid getting involved in high school drama. So-eun had never even seen him more than twice since the school year started, and only then from afar. It was a big school, and he probably skipped more often than not. Not that she would know; she’d never exchanged more than a passing word with either of the Supers.

“All right, seriously. Get out of my way,” Dane said.

“Butch, don’t you dare. Not until he apologizes to So-eun.”

So-eun startled at all the attention on her. She didn’t think Blossom even knew her name. She was just the newest nobody on campus, one of a thousand students in the Senior class alone.

Dane seemed just as startled, and his gaze flickered to So-eun just staring openly over Blossom’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” Blossom said. She had the audacity to snap her fingers in his face.

To Dane’s limited credit, it was easy to forget what Blossom was capable of when she came in such a pretty pink package and a mountain of red hair. “Take a number.”

He tried to get past Blossom this time, and she T-posed to match Butch behind him. The sight was so absurd that So-eun had to cover her mouth not to laugh at Dane whirling in between them like a confused dog confronted with stair guards on all sides.

“What is this?!”

“This is the part where you apologize for slut shaming So-eun,” Blossom said.

“Wow, that’s weak, bro,” Butch said.

“I didn’t!”

“Did that sound like an apology to you, Butch?”

“I think the fuck not.”

More students had gathered around to witness the bizarre turn of events, including Elmer. He casually slipped his hand into So-eun’s. “What’s going on?”

So-eun shook her head. “I think it might be justice.”

“I’m gonna be late for class, just—move!” Dane tried to duck under Butch’s arm, but he bent at the waist (still T-posing) and Dane only succeeded in smacking his head against Butch’s rock-hard tricep. He swore and ping-ponged back into Blossom, bounced off of her knee, and ended up on his ass on the floor.

“Butch, he’s fallen to the floor,” Blossom said.

“Should we help him up?”

“Unfortunately, we’re contractually unable to help unrepentant slut shamers.”

“So unfortunate!”

Dane, now red in the face and breathing hard from the stress, scrambled to his feet by himself. He frothed at the mouth. If Butch were anyone else, So-eun was one hundred percent sure he would have punched him. “Fuck you both.”

“Hey Blossom, is fuck you both Spanish for I’m sorry, you think?”

“I’m afraid it simply isn’t!”

“What a shame!”

The late bell rang, and Blossom didn’t so much as waver from her T-pose. She didn’t care that she’d be marked as tardy. She was not leaving until Dane apologized, and no one else was leaving until she did. Dane seemed to come to the same conclusion as So-eun.

“All right, Jesus Christ. I’m sorry, okay? Fuck.”

“I’m sorry for what?” Blossom swung open her T-pose and looked directly at So-eun, and so did everyone else.

Dane gnashed his teeth. He glanced around at all the other students watching him, recording everything on their phones, not a single person worried about the consequences of being late for class. Finally, he looked up at So-eun, and she squeezed Elmer’s hand harder. “I’m sorry…for slut shaming you.”

Butch whooped. “He did it!” He went in for a high-five with Blossom, and the smack sent a seismic ripple through the hall that rattled the lockers.

“He sure did! Give it up for Dane Blakely, everyone!” Blossom clapped, and others clapped with her. Soon the hall erupted into hoots and hollers of Congratulations! and You did it! as Dane stomped off even redder than before and people recorded his every humiliating moment on their phones.

Everyone dispersed soon after when some teachers came out into the hall to investigate the racket, and So-eun was one of them. When lunch rolled around and she looked around the cafeteria for Elmer, who’d promised to meet up, she found him waving from a table she’d never in her life have expected to sit at.

Bubbles scooted over to make room for So-eun in between Elmer and herself. “Hi, So-eun! We’re in the same block for History, right?”

“Um, yeah?” Of course So-eun knew that, but it was a big class and Bubbles was Bubbles and everyone knew her name like they didn’t know So-eun’s and this was just too weird.

On Bubbles’ other side was Boomer playing a game with Buttercup on someone’s cell phone, while Brick had his Beats on as he copied some of Blossom’s notes and ignored everybody. Blossom herself sat across from So-eun and smiled.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Blossom.” She actually held out her hand to shake as if she weren’t one of the few people every single person in school knew.

So-eun let out a squeak that must have passed for hi, because Blossom smiled wider and elbowed Butch next to her, who was busy shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Mmph,” Butch said, waving to So-eun.

“I’m sorry…what’s happening?” So-eun asked.

“Halo Infinite is happening!” Mike Believe, Wes Goingon, and Kim Chan slid in around Brick and Blossom. “Todd got the advance copy and he’s hosting this weekend!”

Brick looked up from the notes for that one. “I call dibs.”

Bubbles giggled. “You get used to it,” she whispered to So-eun like they were old pals.

What was happening was that her sort of maybe new boyfriend, Elmer Sgloo, had neglected to mention that he’d been close friends with the literal Powerpuff Girls since kindergarten, and now they wanted to welcome So-eun into their extended circle. As in, the definitely not a bunch of losers circle because it was the honest to god Powerpuff Girls and that was kind of a lot for one seventeen-year-old nobody to wrap her head around.

“Oh shit, you guys are going viral! Check it out!” Buttercup passed Butch her phone, which played a video of Butch and Blossom T-posing for feminism. “Who even is that loser?”

“Some chode,” Butch said. “Bane, or something?”

“No one important,” Blossom said as she leaned on Butch’s shoulder to watch the video. “Right, So-eun?”

So-eun put her shoulders back and popped a tater tot into her mouth, feeling like a champion. “Not at all.”

xxx

If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!

#powerpuff girls #powerpuff girls fanfic #blossutch #ppg blossom #ppg butch #september fic prompts

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queerprayers · 3 years ago

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Hi Johanna! :) I'm currently (and have been on and off for a few months) struggling with my view of Jesus' divinity. I have Christian friends who think Jesus = God and friends who think He was just a normal human like us and that's it,, and somehow i feel as if I'm somewhere in between rn? Learning that titles such as "the son of God" were used for normal human leaders at that time really threw me, and also that Jews now and I guess in Jesus' time think the Messiah will just be a normal human, and the "I am" statements in John's gospel were probably not actually said by Jesus but were written by John to kind of describe Him but also John said Jesus was "the word made flesh" not "God made flesh" and like what even is the word exactly??? now I'm thinking there's really nowhere in the new testament that claims that Jesus is God, but then there are things like Collosians 1:15-17 which sounds like it's suggesting it but doesn't explicitly say that Jesus is God...?? So essentially I'm just v confused and was wondering what your beliefs about it all are and why you believe what you believe?? and just really any information or resources you have on the topic would be v much appreciated, thank you so much (also I love your blog!) :))

Hello! This is such a wonderful question that I don't know a ton about, but I love thinking about it and I hope I say/find something that's helpful to you!

I grew up and still identify as Lutheran, so that theology is what I'm familiar with and am influenced by. I and my Lutheran siblings, as well as many other Christians, believe that Jesus was/is fully God and fully Man. Your phrase that you're "somewhere in between right now" makes so much sense to me, although for me it's not so much in between as both! Jesus on earth was born physically, had a human body and genes, ate, laughed, pooped, and died. I believe that, simultaneously, Jesus was God, fully divine. I don't have the words or the knowledge to spout perfect Trinitarian teachings right now (and probably never will), but my favorite description/representation of the Trinity is that God is love, and love is an interpersonal action. So love made manifest cannot be a sole being: God as Lover, Jesus as Beloved, the Holy Spirit as Love. That's only one way to look at it, but even looking a tiny bit into this kind of Trinity theology, you'll learn that we see Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as three representations of the same God, three in one. This is batshit crazy to many people, including many Christians, and I acknowledge and respect that! It is crazy! Anyway, all that to say that I do believe Jesus is a manifestation of God, but that God took human form and saw through our eyes.

A thought about Martin Luther's opinion: "Luther repeatedly argues that the basis for attributing divinity to Jesus is that the person of faith understands that Jesus Christ has done for humanity what only God can do" ("Martin Luther: A Pure Doctrine of Faith" by Micharl Stoltzfus, Journal of Lutheran Ethics, 2003).

Whether you think anything Jesus said was Him verbally claiming to be God, He, over and over, places himself in the role of God, forgiving people, healing people, and making promises/interpretations for them. I realized this while watching Jesus Christ Superstar (yeah, sue me)— whether or not you believe Jesus is God, Jesus obviously thought so, or at least thought himself at the same level as God. C. S. Lewis has a great point about this in Mere Christianity.

I think your statement that something was ". . . not actually said by Jesus but [was] written by John to . . . describe Him" is a good point about how we look at the Bible— if one believes that every word in the Bible comes directly from God, then that is God describing Themself as Jesus, so Jesus saying something and God dictating it to John would be the same thing! This isn't a criticism, I was just pointing out that what you believe about the Bible will definitely affect how you look at this— just something to think about! I'm not a Biblical literalist (or whatever you want to call it) by any means, but I do lean towards divine inspiration and the Spirit having a hand in the writing of the Bible, as well as acknowledging that the human writers' personal perspective and prejudices shine through.

Your question "What is "the Word" exactly?" is a great one! John uses the Greek word logos in John 1, ("word," "discourse," or "reason") as a title for Jesus, and it's absolutely beautiful. In the Bible, "the Word" is used to describe something that God has decreed, something that God has said when addressing humans, words that God spoke through the prophets, God's written Word (the Bible), and Jesus Christ Himself. Jesus is referred to as the Word in John 1 and Revelation 19. Jesus is these things! He's something God decreed, He is God addressing humans, He has spoken through the prophets— Jesus is the physical manifestation of God's Word.

Oh, one more thing! It's so interesting to talk about what the early Church believed, but I think it's funny when people use it as a "gotcha" when the early Church didn't believe something, and other people do. Like, was the early Church perfect and right all the time? Why can't the disciples and early saints get something wrong that later people got right? So obviously it's important to learn about early Christian theology, but it's not some pure teaching that we have to get back to— it's proof that we're constantly evolving!

Here are some sources/resources/thoughts on stuff I've talked about!

What are the strongest biblical arguments for the divinity of Christ? (Got Questions)

Was the divinity of Jesus a Late Invention of the Council of Nicea? (Canon Fodder)

The Divinity of Jesus: An Early Christian Debate (Cynthia Stewart, Saint Mary's Press)

The Divinity of Jesus & 5 Reasons it Matters (David Guzik, Calvary Chapel)

What the Early Church Believed: The Divinity of Christ (Catholic.com)

What Does the Phrase "the Word of God" Mean? (Don Stewart, Blue Letter Bible)

Logos (Christianity) (Wikipedia)

Scholastic Lutheran Christology (Wikipedia)

A Lutheran-Orthodox Common Statement on Faith in the Holy Trinity

Who is God—The Trinity? (Holy Cross Lutheran Church)

The mystery of the Trinity (Delmer Chilton, Living Lutheran)

The Moody Handbook of Messianic Prophecy: Studies and Expositions of the Messiah in the Old Testament by Michael Rydelnik & Edwni Blum

Christology: A Biblical, Historical, and Systematic Study of Jesus Christ by Gerald O'Collins

Is Jesus Truly God?: How the Bible Teaches the Divinity of Christ by Gregory R. Lanier

I'm not sure that I actually answered any questions— I may have just created more, but that is the nature of theology, I'm afraid. Good luck in your learning and thinking, and may you come to your own idea of how to think about and relate to Jesus— there isn't one right way, don't worry. I'm not even claiming that I or my denomination's beliefs are "right," although I do think they're true. (I like differentiating those.)

Thank you so much for your support of my blog, and I hope you have a lovely day/night!

<3 Johanna

#asks #resources #theology #jesus

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eddie-scarpa-lived · 3 years ago

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Jesus Christ Superstar but Carlo is a Jesus and Eddie is a Judas (not technically, but....spiritually?)

Heaven on their mind (i mean, Carlo isn’t promising ‘heaven’, but maybe like....more money and fortune and happiness ever after if they start the drug business)

You've started to believe the things they say of you You really do believe this talk of God is true

(because Carlo has many bootlickers around himself, who never dare to criticize him, and Eddie is like the ‘last man of the old guard standing’, who once used to be able to just joke around or ‘insult’ Carlo)

I am frightened by the crowd For we are getting much too loud And they'll crush us if we go too far

(bascially Eddie oposing the drug business)

I remember when this whole thing began No talk of God then, we called you a man And believe me, my admiration for you hasn't died

(things used to be very different between them, and Carlo was a normal guy, like the others)

Damned for all time/Blood money - basically Eddie talking to Frank Vinci and Leo lmao (and them being snarky about his betrayal and moral dilemma - It’s a fee, nothing more)

Cut the protesting, forget the excuses We want information Get up of the floor We have the papers we need to arrest him You know his movements, we know the law Your help in this matter won't go unrewarded We'll pay you in silver, cash on the nail We just need to know where the soldiers can find him With no crowd around him, then we can't fail - I don’t want your blood money! - Oh, that doesn’t matter, our expenses are good. - I don’t need your blood money! - But you might as well take it, we think that you should

Judas’ Death (depends on the perspective and how Eddie ends up, but it can be his mental breakdown if not actual death. also, good song to see the Caiphas & Annas disregard for Judas’ feelings, because that’s what would happen with Vinci & Leo immediately stopping caring about Eddie as soon as he’s done his part for them)

I don't know how to love him I don't know why he moves me He's a man - he's just a man He's not a king - he's just the same As anyone I know He scares me so When he's cold and dead, will he let me be? Does he love - does he love me too? Does he care for me? Oh God My mind is in darkness now - my God, I am sick! I've been used!

#not to get religious or anything #also Carlo's blood is definitely not 'innocent'#but i think poor old Eddie would be tormented forever with feeling responsible for Carlo's death #(and we could actually get a nice little plot twist for the future of Mafia 4)#eddie scarpa #carlo falcone #carlo/eddie vibes

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hockeyboysiguess · 5 years ago

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Countdown

a/n: what’s up everyone? i’m new in town because i found one stupid hockey boy which led me to another and you know how it goes. let me know if you want me to continue writing!

warnings: some swearing, a little bit of drinking.

Your feet were killing you, and you’d definitely had a couple more than you set out to have when the night started, but it was New Year’s Eve, you told yourself. It was the kind of night you could have a little too much. You rocked a little forward on your heels, trying to relieve some of the pressure on the arches of your feet, but it threw you off balance. Luckily, Mat was there with a steady arm to keep you to your feet. You could’ve done without the chirping that immediately followed the incident.

“You know, you could just take the shoes off if they’re bothering you that much,” he said, with a laugh edging at each word as he spoke.

“I’ve definitely explained this to you before,” you sighed. “You look at the shoe, you look at your feet, you tell yourself that your shoes and your feet are married tonight and nothing in the world will separate you. You can’t get divorced after two hours, would look bad for my next husband.”

“You are more committed to those shoes than you were with your last boyfriend,” Mat retorts, never the one to stop the banter first.

“He couldn’t support me like these babies can.” You point your toes and jut one foot out for emphasis, “He didn’t make my legs look this killer either.”

Mat rolled his eyes at you and laughed, a constant combination in your friendship that had become one of the most crucial in your life this past year. You’d met him towards the beginning of the year, and you got along instantly due to your identical senses of humor. Your friendship solidified with his willingness to try practically every restaurant in New York City with you and the fact that you always let him be the DJ whenever you were together. You tried to go through the timeline of your friendship, trying to find the moment something shifted and he stopped being your friend Mat and started being the reason you said no to dates with other guys when they approached you and why you refused to let any of you other friends set you up with anyone. You glanced over at the clock to distract yourself from your thoughts, 11:50pm. Ten minutes to midnight.

“Hey, I was just thinking about the day we met,” Mat told you, a smile on his face carrying over to yours as you remembered the first time you met him.

Ten.

- Months ago, you were at a party pretty similar to this where everyone was a little less dressed up and the alcohol was a lot worse. You were standing with two of your friends, debating on if you wanted to stay longer or head out to the bars when a ping pong ball landed in your cup.

“Hey! My buddy needs a partner for pong. Can you play? Doesn’t matter if you’re shit; he’s probably worse.”

You shrugged, said, “Why not?” and stepped up to the table next to him. You set your cup down on the table and turned to your new partner for the evening, “If I have to carry this team, now’s the time to let me know that you’re dead weight.”

His face was a little taken aback for a second, but then a wide smile formed across his face. He nodded softly.

“I like you,” he said. “You’re right, I am totally about to be dead weight. My name’s Mat by the way.”

You introduced yourself to him and proceeded to win the next two rounds of beer pong with Mat making three cups the entire time. You made fun of his accent. He pretended to be upset that you got away with breaking the elbows rule because you had boobs and they distracted Tito, but the distraction was to his advantage so he said he’d let the rule breaking slide as long as you promised to be his pong partner for the night. You agreed to take him on as charity case for the night if he tried a Thai-Greek fusion brunch with you tomorrow morning that none of your other friends we’re willing to go it. He took the deal and your friendship began.

Nine.

“– seasons of How I Met Your Mother? Jesus, is this even going to be worth it?” Mat complained

“Get the popcorn, sit down, and shut up,” you told him. “I cannot believe you haven’t seen this before. It’s a classic.

“Friends is a classic,” he sighs as he sits down on the couch, dropping the popcorn bowl between you. “This is a cheap imitation. Besides, I thought you would hate this. Isn’t Barney like very anti your whole super feminist thing or something and doesn’t Ted just suck?”

“If you don’t realize you have to take everything in this world with a grain of salt yet, then you are beyond help, Barzy.”

You binged it in under three weeks. While you’d lived the last episode premiering live with your family, you didn’t think you’d ever seen anyone as pissed off at the ending of the show than Mat was. Your sides hurt from laughing so much at his insane ranting about how they could have possibly done that to him, with all of the time he invested in this show. He took it personally and swore he’d never watch another episode again. You still couldn’t bring it up without making him start a whole diatribe. It was your party trick together even though Mat wasn’t quite in on the joke.

Eight.

- Days in Spain in June. Mat insisted on you joining him on his post season tour of Europe. By tour he meant never leaving Spain but going on a lot of wine tours and pretending he knew a lot about wine even though he couldn’t tell the difference between a three-hundred-dollar bottle of age merlot and a bottle of Barefoot if his life depended on it.

“Oh, isn’t this a fabulous red vintage?” Mat said to you, doing an impossibly bad British accent in an attempt to sound fancy. “I can taste floral,” he sipped the wine again, smacking his tongue against his lips loudly, “and citrus notes in this one. You’ll quite like it, madam.”

“You’re gonna get us kicked out,” you sang softly to him as you noticed the daggers he was getting from your tour guide.

Mat slung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in tight to him. You could feel his muscles tense under his thin t-shirt, and your breath caught in your throat. Some part of you had known he was attractive this whole time; you’d just never been forced to pay attention until this exact moment when you were pressed up against him. You pushed the thoughts to a far corner of your mind. This was your friend Mat and you didn’t need anything more than that from him. You didn’t want it, you told yourself.

Seven.

- Seconds left on the clock. You were pretty sure you hadn’t breathed for the last 5 minutes of the game and you were gripping your seat so hard that your knuckles were starting to go numb. The Islanders were down by one going into the last two minutes against Tampa Bay. Tito had scored to create a 3-3 game with just over a minute on the clock to play. You didn’t want this to go into overtime and neither did the guys. They wanted to complete the comeback win here and now.

You watched as Mat shifted the puck side to side on the ice. You saw him glance up at the clock for a brief second, then he looked back towards the net and he saw his shot. He took it without any hesitation. You were on your feet before the puck hit the back of the net. Mat was immediately engulfed by his teammates, swallowed up in a sea of blue and orange jerseys. His games practically gave you a heart attack, but you’d never turn him down if he asked you to come and he asked you to come a lot.

“Hey there, superstar,” you said, the smile in your voice obvious as you met Mat in the tunnel after he’d finished up his interviews and changed.

“Hey there,” he laughed, giving your shoulder a little shove

You looked around as you walked out with him. He was walking you through that final shot, second by second, but you couldn’t focus on his story. You saw the girlfriends, fiancées, and wives of the other players greeting their respective partners and for a split second you let yourself imagine that with Mat. You hadn’t really thought about it before, but as soon as let that wall down and the flood gates opened, and your feelings for Mat hit you square in the stomach. You wanted to be like them, have what they have, and for a split second, you let yourself want that with him. You wanted him to look at you like the other guys looked at their girlfriends and wives.

“Um, hello?” Mat’s large hang waving in front of your face pulled you out of your moment.

“Oh, sorry. Can you start over? I got a little sidetracked.”

“You okay?” he asked, concern coating the words and his brows furrowing.

“Super-duper, superstar. Try me again.”

Six.

“-Entrées is way too many. Look, I know you’re practically a championship level competitive eater for fun, but this feels like an exercise of your skills we don’t need to practice.”

“Two things. One, calling pancakes an entrée is a little much. It’s just pancakes,” you retorted, “and two, they serve six different kinds of pancakes here, so I’m getting six kinds of pancakes. Join me or get the hell out.”

Mat’s nose scrunched up as he laughed at your response. God, you loved his laugh. You loved it most when you were responsible for it, not the girl he met at the bar last night who was definitely responsible for the marks peeking out from under his shirt. Seeing those when he sat down made you felt like all the air had left the room. You shrugged off your thoughts as best as you could. Mat wasn’t yours to be possessive of, but that didn’t make the pit in your stomach settle either. You took a sip of your orange juice as Mat’s laughter slowed.

“God, how do I still think you’re cool even though that was super lame?” he asked you, stealing your water since his hungover self practically chugged his when he arrived

“Barzy, some things in the world are magical and they’re better left unexplored and unexplained.”

“Like all women,” he said proudly, like he’d discovered something profound.

You rolled your eyes at him. Even when he was an idiot, you still wished he was your idiot and not some girl at the bar’s idiot, but you wouldn’t risk this. This friendship was too important to you to jeopardize for your stupid middle school girl pinning. You put your feelings back in the box they’d let themselves out of just as the pancakes arrived.

Five.

“You think you’d had five drinks tonight?” Your eyebrow is arched as you look back at an incredibly hammered Barzy. You knew he had to be at least eight deep, more like ten, but instead you said, “Are you sure it’s five?”

Mat nodded profusely, looking more like his bobblehead then himself in that moment. You turned your palms up at him and shrugged a bit, giving him a look of complete disbelief. He proudly put down his beer and yanked his sleeve up to show you his wrist. On his wrist were five incredibly smudged tally marks of various lengths. He hadn’t even managed to realize you were supposed to cross the last one across the other four for every set of five, so there were just five incredibly crooked lines drawn on his wrist in Sharpie.

“See? Five tally marks, five drinks,” he told you, like you were the idiot in this situation.

You nodded in fake understanding as an incredible drunk Mat reached for you. He was significantly touchier with you when he was drunk, his large hands always finding your skin and making a series of thoughts you shouldn’t have run through your brain as your heartbeat picked up in your chest. His hands rested on your upper arms this time as he lined himself up with you, forcing you to make eye contact.

“I’m fine. Don’t you worry about ol’ Barzy here,” he slurred.

“You’re twenty-two,” you laughed. “Hardly makes you an old man, my friend. Come on, I called an Uber. Let’s go.”

You took on of his hands from your arm and held it, dragging him slowly out of the party. He had the attention span of a golden retriever puppy when he was drunk, so it was a good thing you had some practice with this and started your journey to the car ten minutes before your Uber was supposed to arrive. By the time you made it outside, it was already waiting for you. You gave him one small shove and he practically fell right into the car.

“You know,” Mat told you as the car started to roll away from the party, “you’re a really good friend, ya know.”

You smiled at him but turned your face away quickly as you felt the tears start to sting in your eyes. Maybe it’s the few drinks you’d had yourself, but Mat calling you a good friend was definitely supposed to feel good, but all it was make your heart clench inside your chest. It confirmed everything you were feeling. You and Mat were friends, good to great friends even, but that’s how he saw you, his friend. You never wanted to be the kind of person that complained about someone not liking them back, but you finally understood where everyone else was coming from. This feeling was awful in a way you couldn’t quite describe. It was like a hand had reached into you, found the place where your feelings for Mat where, and squeezed hard, except that hand wasn’t actually all too careful to target that one spot and instead squeezed everything inside your chest until you could barely catch your breath and the tears were rolling down your cheeks. Thank god that Mat had way more than five drinks and was already asleep against the opposite window because you couldn’t keep it together the entire ride home.

Four.

“You really want four dogs at once?” The disagreement coated Mat’s voice. “That’s a lot of dogs at once. I think you need to reconsider this part of your life plan.”

“Four is a very reasonable number,” you replied, not even bothering to look up from your phone. “And this is my twenty-year plan here, Mat, not yours. You don’t get a say.”

“I’m your best friend. I deserve a say here if I think you’re going to screw up part of your life,” he countered. “You’re going to be beholden to these creatures. And you’re gonna have four of them! They’re going to need you constantly. You’re not going to have time for anything else.”

“I do plan on like, having someone around at some point,” you reminded him. “Step nine of this plan was to find that man, finally, and one of the key criteria is that is likes dogs, so he’ll help share the workload.”

“And then you really only have two dogs,” Mat mumbles under his breath as he start to nod in understanding. “Okay, okay, I concede. You’re right, four is the correct number of dogs.”

You laughed in response to his agreement, “Now I’ve just got to find a man and convince him like I convinced you.”

“Took you all of a minute to get me on board with your plan here. I’d sign up to co-parent four dogs with you. You’re gonna be a killer pet parent. I’m sure you can get some other schmuck to agree with you. He’s not going to be as hot as me though, so that’s going to be a downgrade for you right there.” You didn’t let his words sink in. You let them flow right out of your head as soon as they came in. It was for the best, you told yourself.

Three.

- Hours into your co-worker’s engagement party and you were about ready to scream. If one more platter of engagement cookies with their initials and faces came past you, you were going to explode. The only reason you’d make it this long was Mat and the fact he tipped the bartender big time when you got your first drink, so he was making you doubles and triples when he was only supposed to pour singles at the open bar.

“This sucks,” you sighed to him, taking a swig of your drink.

“This party is fucking pathetic,” he said to you. “How are people this boring before they’re thirty? I just don’t understand. If I ever get engaged to someone who wants to have cookies with our faces on them at our engagement party, please shoot me.”

“I expect you to do the same if I ever think that’s a good idea,” you laughed as your spoke.

“You know what,” Mat paused only to down the remaining third of his drink in one go, “it’s time to blow this popsicle stand.”

“Jesus, Mat, they haven’t even made a toast yet or anything. We can’t leave yet,” you tried to remind him, even though it was completely half-assed since you might have been more miserable than him.

“Oh, come on, be irresponsible. Let’s go do something actually fun,” Mat said, leaning into you as he spoke. “You’re in a killer dress. You look incredible. There’s this cool bar down the road I’ve been wanting to try, and we’re dressed for the occasion.”

You scrunched up your nose as you thought. You wanted out, but you also really didn’t want to be rude since you’d have to show up to work on Monday regardless. Mat took your drink from you as you thought, taking care of the rest of your glass with ease even though the bottom quarter was definitely straight vodka due to how slow you’d been drinking. He looked at you, his eyes softly begging for you to get the hell out of here with him. You sighed and grabbed one of his hands, making your way towards the back exit. You couldn’t see the smile on his face, but you felt his fingers slide between yours as he gave your hand an appreciative squeeze.

Two.

- Times that you’ve almost told him how you feel in the last month. The holiday season had you feeling particularly emotional in general due to a combination of Hallmark movies and the holiday parties’ people were having were giving you a few too many opportunities to be drunk around Mat. Drunk you was a little looser lipped than sober you. Both times started and ended the same way.

“Hey, Mat, can I talk to you for a quick sec?”

You placed your hand on his shoulder as he spoke, pulling him slightly so he’d turn to face you. Each time he agreed and followed you away from the crowd, tucked away in a less traffic area of the party.

“What’s up? Are you too drunk? Do you need to head out? I can call an Uber. Or should I call a Lyft?” he asked in rapid succession.

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I, uh, I wanted to tell you something actually.”

“Okay, shoot,” he replied instantly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Your mouth went dry as the desert and your carefully rehearsed speech dissolved in your mind. You looked at him, his eyes dark as his traced over your face, trying to figure out what could have been important enough for you to pull him away from the party. Your eyes danced across his face, his strong jawline, his kind eyes, his soft lips. You wanted him. You wanted him so badly it hurt, but the idea of losing him from your life kept your mouth shut both times.

“You know what. Actually, it’s nothing. I figured it out myself. Let’s go get another drink.”

One.

You snapped back to the current moment, pulling your head out of the past. You watched the clock turn to 11:59pm.

“Sorry, I zoned out there,” you told him.

“It’s alright. Tito dropped in when you faded off, so no hard feelings,” he laughed as he spoke, “Um, actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I guess, why not start the new year off with a bang?”

You took a deep breath in as you looked over Mat’s face curiously. He was nervous. His hands were fidgeting with his cup. He was shuffling from side to side, foot to foot, transferring his weight with each movement. He looked down at the ground, unable to meet your eyes and mumbled something you couldn’t hear. The countdown for the last twenty seconds had already started, so there was too much background noise to catch his words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you?” You had to shout to make sure he heard you.

“I like you!” he screamed back. “Fuck that, I’m in love you with and I really, really fucking don’t want to see you kiss anyone else at ten seconds because I’m pretty sure it’ll break me at this point.”

Ten. Your mind was racing. Nine. Mat wanted to kiss you. Eight. Mat liked you like you liked him. Seven. No, Mat loved you. Six. He took a step closer to you. Five. He was so nervous, nervous he’d just ruined everything because you still hadn’t said anything. Four. Your feelings burst out from the box you’d put them in, running through your body, making your heart rate kick up in your chest. Three. Mat leaned his face closer to yours. Two. Your eyes locked with his. One. You rocked up on your toes and pressed your lips against his.

His hands found your hips, pulling you desperately closer to him, practically crushing you against his chest, but his lips were soft and gentle against yours. The room exploded into cheers around you, everyone celebrating the ball drop and the new year, but you barely noticed them, until you pulled back from Mat. His eyes scanned your face, trying to figure out exactly what you were feeling.

“I love you too, Mat.”

“Thank God,” he chuckled to himself as he leaned down to kiss you again, “and happy fucking New Year to me.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine

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troutfishinginmusic · 4 years ago

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The story of Grass Records: From Brainiac to Wind-Up and Creed

Images via Grass of ’96 compilation

Everything isn’t available in the streaming era. There are notable gaps in the seemingly bottomless amount of music currently available. Some of the most noticeable exclusions are albums released on Grass Records.

If you’re a fan of ’90s indie music, this short-lived New York label mattered. Though sometimes dismissed as a sibling label to Homestead Records, Grass released over 60 full-length albums ranging from pop to punk to noise to experimental music. It raised the profile of influential bands like Brainiac, Toadies and the Wrens.

The amazing thing about the label is how consistent it is. Every time I thought I was done with this article, I would listen to a band like Baboon and be completely blown away. These are all fascinating, idiosyncratic bands. This is more incredible considering the label was only around for about four years.

Much of this music is hard to find. The odd song might be lingering on YouTube, but you’re almost better off looking at your local record store or ordering from Discogs.

Why are the albums in this weird limbo? Mostly because the monied interest who bought the label in 1996 thought it wasn’t yielding a big enough return on the investment. Grass was gutted and rebranded into post-grunge/nu metal giant Wind-Up. Money poured in and these wonderfully weird records were swept to the side.

The following interviews were conducted via email, Facebook messenger and phone over the last few months. Quotes from the interviews have been edited for style/clarity. I’m eternally grateful to everyone who got back to me. I am also willing to expand this story if more former Grass artists want to reach out. If you’re one of these artists, my email is at the bottom of this story.

Seedlings

“I started in the music business purely by chance,” said Camille Sciara, who founded Grass Records.

Sciara got her start working at Record World in New York as a second job and became friendly with the store’s buyer. After attending a manager training program, she moved on to become a manager of the store. Her second job became her first.

“Then, after two years there, I became bored managing a record store and my friend Mike, the buyer, told me about Dutch East India,” Sciara said. “I started there as a salesperson and, after a year of sales, became the buyer when that position opened up. I never envisioned starting a label.”

While working as a buyer at Dutch East India Trading a friend sent her a Toadies cassette. She “loved it” and started Grass in 1993 to release it.

Grass released the Toadies EP Pleather soon after, which contained an early version of the band’s inescapable alternative hit “Possum Kingdom.” After Pleather, the band scored a major label deal with Interscope. The platinum-selling Rubberneck arrived in 1994.

“They did really well on their first major release,” Sciara said in an email interview. “But then it appeared that Interscope just dropped the ball or lost interest. They were such a great band live, I never understood how they weren't huge stars. And super cool people.”

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Tall grass

Sciara would go on to sign unique and influential bands like Brainiac and The Wrens.

“Since I had never run a label before, I was going purely on how much I liked what they submitted,” Sciara said. “Obviously not the best business model for running a label, but for the money we offered it worked to some respect. The longer I ran the label, the more I understood what was needed from them [the bands] regarding can they tour etc.”

There were few bands of the 90s that radiated weirdo energy as brightly and brilliantly as Brainiac. The documentary Transmissions from Zero chronicles the significant impact the band had on the music scene at the time. It also shows a band on the brink of mainstream success. Brainiac released two albums on Grass, Smack Bunny Baby and Bonsai Superstar, before departing for Touch & Go. The band’s forward motion was sadly cut short by Tim Taylor’s death in 1997. Prior to this, Interscope was expressing interest in the band.

“If Tim hadn't passed I'm pretty sure they'd have been the biggest [band on the label],” Sciara said.

Original Brainiac guitarist Michelle Bodine said Grass’ association with Dutch East India made the label initially attractive.

“[Camille] was super excited about us and we had total creative freedom,” Bodine said. “We also liked the 2-record deal with the option of 3 contract.”

After leaving Brainiac, Bodine would go on to play guitar and sing in O-Matic. The band released its lone album Dog Years in 1996. The album is one of the overlooked gems of the ’90s.

The Wrens’ influence reverberated in more subtle ways. The band’s first two albums, Silver (1994) and Secaucus (1996), provided a blueprint for much of the post-Pixies landscape of ’90s indie rock. They could’ve been much bigger, but still made a significant impression.

“The depth of realization in this record is unparalleled: every angle is perfected,” Pitchfork founder Ryan Schreiber said about Secaucus. The band’s third long awaited album, Meadowlands, dropped in 2001 and received a “Best New Music” tag from the same publication.

Rumblings of a follow-up to Meadowlands have been thrown around for the last 10 years, but a record has yet to materialize.

The level of talent the label had was staggering. A few groups Sciara thought would be bigger ranged from the Irish dream-pop band Chimera to Georgia punk band Sunbrain. “There's more, it would be long list,” Sciara said.

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New shoots

Baltimore

Baltimore punk band Liquor Bike had released one album before signing a two-record deal with Grass. The band’s first release on the label was Neon Hoop Ride in 1993. Liquor Bike was excited to be on the label because of the Homestead Records connection.

“We loved being on Grass, we toured like crazy,” singer/guitarist David Koslowski said. “We had great booking with Creature Booking.”

Between the booking agency, which had done work with Nirvana, Helmet, the Lunachicks and Jesus Lizard; and the new label things were looking up for the band. The band would have posters up in whatever towns they were playing in and mentions in the local paper. The label would keep them up to date if they had to do things like impromptu radio interviews. When they got off the road, they entered the studio to record The Beauty of Falling Apart. During this time Alan Meltzer, who bought the label from Sciara in 1996, entered the picture.

“At the onset we were pretty psyched because this guy’s got major label distribution,” Koslowski said.

It also helped that Sciara stayed on after the transition.

“We could still work with Camille, who we love,” Koslowski said. “We slept at Camille’s house when we would play up in New York. She’s an amazingly nice, sweet person and very giving.”

Koslowski said the band was given significantly more to record the follow-up based on buzz the band was getting at the time. J Robbins, of Jawbox and Burning Airlines fame, did the cover art and Drew Mazurek produced the album. The band even hired John Lay, who had previously worked with Squeeze, to manage the band.

“By that point we were having decent guarantees,” Koslowski said. “Those two years when I was on Grass I barely worked a real job. I wasn’t making a rockstar living or anything, but I was certainly able to pay my rent and utilities.”

Liquor Bike went on tour with Gas Huffer to promote the forthcoming record. On the tour Koslowski noticed there weren’t posters out and the band didn’t receive write-ups in the local press. To make matters worse, they never received CDs of The Beauty of Falling Apart to sell at shows. Koslowski said Grass had promised this.

“We were pretty confused," Koslowski said. “I mean our record had been mastered already, everything had been sent to the factory.”

Lay soon informed the band Sciara had been fired and the band had been dropped. Koslowski said the band decided to stay on the tour even after being kicked off the label. The band had old records and T-shirts to sell. They had put a lot of work into the tour and didn’t want to waste it.

Liquor Bike eventually released its third album on Merkin after failed meetings with Amphetamine Reptile, Columbia and Interscope. It was the band’s last before the members went their separate ways.

Seade was another band on on Grass that was unfortunately overlooked. Their lone album (Perf) is an underrated ’90s classic.

Prior to Meltzer, Koslowski said that he didn’t think there was any favoritism toward any one band despite the label being so prolific.

“I just think the woman loved music and wanted to spread that out to people,” Koslowski said of Sciara. “I think she legitimately wanted to help people, you know, help these bands out. She was nothing but giving.”

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Omaha

Mousetrap, an Omaha-based punk band, hoped to initially get a deal with Homestead when it sent in two 7” singles.

“Camille really liked our singles and got in touch with us.” Patrick Buchanan, Mousetrap’s singer/guitarist said in an email interview. “We developed a great relationship with her, and eventually she offered to sign us — we were given the opportunity to sign either with Homestead OR with Grass, which was a brand-new label at the time.”

Buchanan said the band thought it would possibly get overlooked in Homestead’s large stable of well-established bands and decided to sign with Grass. He also said Sciara made a large difference.

“Camille was one of the coolest people we had ever met in ‘the business’ – she just seemed really genuine, straightforward and honest,” he said. “Those are the types of people we wanted to work with. So our relationship with Camille was probably the main thing that made us sign with Grass.”

Mousetrap would go on to release three albums on the label, starting with Cerebral Revolver in 1993. The band was a big influence on Commander Venus, an Omaha band featuring a young Connor Oberst.

“They were definitely a big deal in Omaha and everybody loved them,” Oberst said of Mousetrap in an episode of the Turned Out a Punk podcast earlier this year.

Commander Venus came in contact with Grass through Mousetrap. The band signed to the label when Oberst was only 14. The band also featured Rob Nansel, who would go on to co-found Saddle Creek Records. Oberst said the band recorded its first album, Do You Feel At Home, in 1995.

“That was a good experience and a learning experience,” Oberst said. “I also think it kind of made it more apparent that even if you do get an opportunity like that, you know, you’re a little fish in a big pond. And maybe people aren’t going to work as hard or care about it.”

He said that this was mitigated by having the support system of a local scene in Omaha. The band ended up releasing its 1995 debut on Lumberjack, which later became Saddle Creek. The band released one more album, The Uneventful Vacation, before Oberst formed Bright Eyes.

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Promoting growth

Alan Meltzer came into the picture with a retail background. He had previously owned Titus Oaks Records in Long Island. He went on to found CD One Stop in 1985, which was purchased by Alliance in 1993. Meltzer became Alliance’s president during this time but left the company in 1995. Meltzer acquired Grass in 1995 from Dutch East India Trading (the label’s owner/distributor), finalizing major label distribution through BMG in 1996.

“When I heard the Grass repertoire, I almost fell down,” Meltzer said in a 1996 Billboard Magazine article. “I heard so much good material.”

“Alan was shopping around looking to purchase an established label with an extensive catalog that he could pour endless money into,” Sciara said. “He originally wanted Homestead Records. A great label owned by Dutch East as well. But once he saw the contracts and issues with some of the ‘grey’ areas in them, he then moved on to Grass.”

Meltzer did have some legitimate interest in the label as an artistic venture.

“He absolutely was obsessed with the Wrens once he heard them and Commander Venus,” Sciara said. “He was sure with all his resources, money and big ass staff he could make them huge stars. He failed. Not the bands’ fault.”

Grass would have the name (and credibility) of an indie, but the corporate reach of a major. Meltzer looked at the new situation as the best of both worlds.

“We’re not a major label, but we’re not an undercapitalized, disorganized independent that’s out there on a wing and prayer,” Meltzer said. “We’re somewhere in the middle. We’re staffed, we have the organization, and we’ve got the know-how. I opted for major distribution because the majors are better at it.”

Grass kept Sciara on as a VP of A&R (artists and repertoire) and expanded Grass’ workforce to 20 in-house employees, according to the Billboard article. The label’s future looked bright. Bodine left Brainiac and formed O-Matic (also signed to Grass) when the change happened.

“…It seemed better – they had a nice office in Manhattan with an open stairwell area and glass walls,” Bodine said. “It was very modern and cool. The budget was much bigger. They hired more people and we felt like we had a good support system.”

“When we went there it felt like money,” Koslowski said.

Koslowski only met Meltzer once at a Grass Christmas party.

“He was a typical New York money guy when I met him,” Koslowski said. “I didn’t get a good vibe. He didn’t have that indie spirit that Camille had unfortunately.”

The meeting didn’t go well.

“I remember drinking a bit and messing with him,” Koslowski said. “I said ‘hey Alan I wanted to see if I could run this by you. You know that new Liquor Bike record we’re working on? We got the artwork but we just wanted to run the title by you and make sure it’s cool. We want to call it Eat My Fuck Asshole.’”

Meltzer and his wife were horrified, according to Koslowski.

Yellowing, patchy

In an oral history with Stereogum, Wrens bassist and singer Kevin Whelan said the band was picking up steam.

“So Secaucus came out and it started to do somewhat well and “Surprise Honeycomb” was starting to get recognized and played on different shows, and we thought that international fame was around the corner,” Whelan said.

And then the call came in.

“He [Meltzer] said, ‘Well, boys, I’m not going to give you any more money. If you don’t sign with me today, it’s over.’ So, I remember, we sat in the van, we looked at the empty gas tank and we were like, ‘Well, I guess we’re not signing, let’s get the credit cards out and see how we can get home.’”

According to the Wrens’ website bio, Meltzer wasn’t pleased.

“[Meltzer], infuriated, commences layoffs of involved record company personnel and vows that ‘the next band to walk through that door will be made famous – at any cost,’” the bio states. “The next band through the door is Creed. Grass Records becomes Wind-Up Records. Creed becomes famous at any cost.”

By the time of the Wind-Up transition, Moustrap had already fulfilled its contract when it released its third album The Dead Air Sound System.

“At that time, Mousetrap was not very active,” Buchanan said. “I think we had become rather disheartened by how much time and love we put into the band, while getting very little recognition on any type of national level. At that point we were physically and mentally exhausted by constant touring and recording, with very little in the way of tangible success to show for it. So we didn’t really have any relationship with the label by the time it became Wind-Up.”

When the label wasn’t as successful as Meltzer thought, he brought in Steve Lerner. This was effectively the end of Grass Records.

“I was let go along with 8 to 10 others when Meltzer brought in Steve Lerner to run the company,” Sciara said. “The new staff felt Grass was too much related to me so hence a name change.”

“With Lerner serving as his right-hand man, the duo transformed Wind-up into a $100 million-plus sales operation with multi-platinum acts like Evanescence and Creed,” a 2007 Billboard article said.

Death, new high-yield crops

Grass was rebranded as Wind-Up, a key player in the nu metal and post-grunge universe, in 1997. Many of the Grass bands were dropped to make room for the likes of Finger Eleven, Creed and Evanescence. Meltzer, who ran the label with his wife at the time Diana, finally found his cash machine.

“I was extremely happy because, although Creed was a mega-seller and saved his label, I wanted nothing to do with that and the direction the label was taking,” Sciara said. “Not knocking it. You need artists like that to sustain a label that had an enormous payroll and nice offices. I totally get it, it’s a business. But I was happy running a small label with smaller contacts and cooler bands that didn't have to compromise their sound to write a ‘hit.’ That’s what he was always looking for.”

The transition to Wind-Up in 1997 did have some overlap with former Grass artists. The second Commander Venus album was released by Wind-Up and Thick (with a later release on Saddle Creek). Pollen, a rough-edged pop-punk act that had released two albums on Grass, dropped Peach Tree on Wind-Up. Baboon’s sophomore album Secret Robot Control was also released in 1997 on the new label.

Slowpoke’s Virgin Stripes, the final vestige of Grass Records, was a co-release with DGC in 1998. The album didn’t break the band, but it’s not a stretch to imagine it could have (especially since it boasted a song as infectious as “Belladonna”). The album retains some of band’s outsider noisy energy, but delivers it in a package palatable enough for the post-grunge crowd. Past this point, Wind-Up focused mostly on its new sound.

Koslowski didn’t initially know Wind-Up was the successor to Grass. One day someone mentioned to him that he was labelmates with Creed.

“I was like ‘wow, OK I guess he got his hit,’” Koslowski said.

Meltzer died in 2011 at 67. He made headlines by leaving $1 to his chauffeur and $500,000 to his doorman. Bodine saw this as frustrating because of how he left things with other Grass bands.

“He owed lots of bands money so it’s just really fucked up that he didn’t pay them/us. Liquor Bike did get theirs before he died only because they were persistent,” said Bodine.

In 2013 Wind-Up was purchased by Bicycle Music Company with distribution by Concord Music Group. In 2015 the two companies merged to form Concord Bicycle Music. Craft Recordings manages the label’s reissues.

https://www.youtube.com/embed/wZBpr1tDktI

Rare strain

Aside from Brainiac and The Wrens, many of the bands on the label aren’t on streaming platforms. The physical releases on Grass are mostly out of print. A sea of fantastic experimental indie music remains in this gray area. This doesn’t seem to be changing.

“Unfortunately, I haven’t a clue about if there are plans of Wind-Up re-releasing any back catalog,” Sciara said. “It’s sad really. Holding peoples’ artistic work hostage or just ignoring it seems cruel. Hopefully Wind-Up did the right thing and gave them back their masters, rights etc. Or at least license it to someone else to release.”

The three Mousetrap albums are stuck in this place.

“I wish more people had the chance to hear our music, so yeah I wish it was easily available,” said Buchanan. “Sure, we wanted to be popular — but the most important thing for us was that we made the music we wanted to make. We always did things our way — for ourselves, with no regrets. So even if the albums are harder to get, we’ll always have the memories — and those who were there to witness it will, too.”

Liquor Bike’s lawyer was able to secure the master tapes and artwork for The Beauty of Falling Apart with no questions asked. The band also has the master tapes for Neon Hoop Ride.

“Crazily enough, Grass did not make us buy Beauty of Falling Apart from them,” Koslowski said. “I have heard from some of my fellow Grass artists that they wanted to charge an incredible amount of money.”

Neon Hoop Ride was remastered and briefly available on streaming services. The album was only available digitally and did not get a physical rerelease.

Greener pastures

Following her departure from Grass, Sciara started Ten23 (Oct. 23, 1996 was the day she was fired from Grass). The label released The Wren’s EP 1135 before folding.

“It seemed like a great idea,” she said. “Didn't put out anything else after that release. It was an expensive endeavor starting a label from scratch, so to speak, and at the time I was unemployed.”

From there she went on to work at the Knitting Factory label group and eventually Narnack Records. She uprooted from N.Y. to move to L.A. to work at the latter. She eventually ended up back in N.Y. where she was a manager at Petland Discounts for 12 years until it closed in 2019.

Buchanan has gone on to release music as Vicious Lovers. Mousetrap has plans to release new music for the first time in 20 years according to Buchanan. Some of Mousetrap’s music can be streamed here:

Michelle Bodine went on to play guitar in Shesus, which was signed to Narnack. The band released an album and an EP before splitting up. Bodine has since been participating in Brainiac reunion shows and was featured in the Brainiac documentary Transmissions from Zero.

David Koslowski went on to play in the post-rock band Vivid Low Sky and the power-pop band Gerty. He currently owns a coffee shop/record store in Baltimore called Baby’s on Fire.

“I loved every aspect of being on Grass, except for the very end,” Koslowski said. “I also loved how diverse Camille had the label. A lot of friends from that time from those bands, I’m still friends with them. It was like a really cool little group of people that all got to share in something for as brief of a time period as it was.”

If you have questions, information or concerns I can be reached at [email protected].

CORRECTION: A previous version of this article spelled David’s last name as Kozlowski. It’s actually Koslowski. Also, J. Robbins just did the cover art for the band’s third album. Drew Mazurek actually produced it. Godplow is a great band but they’re from Minneapolis, not Baltimore.

#grassrecords #indie #90s #brainiac #thewrens #mousetrap #liquorbike #baboon #toadies #omatic

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nayutai · 5 years ago

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Sleep Walker

⇢ Genre fluff (this nearly killed Jesus Christ fluff authors are powerful)

⇢ Pairing Jimin x OC

⇢ Word Count 4251

⇢ Summary Jimin finds himself wandering into a 24-hour coffee shop after his efforts to sleep have proved unsuccessful where he finds more than just the caffeine boost he needs to get through his day

⇢ Notes this goes out to my love bug @tae-tae-drives-me-kray

Working the night shift at a 24-hour coffee shop makes for a very boring shift. Most of the customers clear out by the time that two o’clock rolls around and those who do pop in are on their way to their own early morning shifts and generally don’t stay long. They also don’t usually start arriving until at least 4:30. For Amira, this means that she can eat snacks and binge watch Supernatural until the day time people show up for the most part. At $11 an hour it’s a pretty cushy gig if you don’t mind the fucked up sleep schedule.

The sound of the bell above the door tinkling loudly just before three sends Amira flying from her perch on a stool behind the counter. Whoever it is giggles melodically at the flurry of creative curses that come out of her mouth as she rises to your feet dramatically. She gives them a dirty look that softens at the way their eyes twinkle even in the low light of the cafe.

“Are you okay?” At least they have the decency to ask about her well-being after nearly giving her a heart attack. The lower half of their face is covered in a mask and a baseball cap sits low on his head. If it weren’t for the fact that this person’s eyes look so friendly she’d be standing a lot closer to the silent alarm and the baseball bat that her manager allows her to store under the counter.

“Just peachy for someone who was on the verge of death. What would you like to order?” He rattles off the name of some frappuccino thing with an assload of ingredients and Amira has the sudden urge to beat her head against the granite countertop. Being that she works night shift, most of her barista knowledge circled the memory drain a long time ago due to the fact that the most complicated thing the early morning demographic orders is flavored iced coffee. A walk in the park compared to the science experiments that the daytime crew is required to mix up throughout the day.

“I’m gonna keep it real with you, chief. I forgot how to make this but I don’t have the authorization to do refunds so if it’s bad you’re stuck with it.”

“At this point, it could be dishwater and I’d drink it as long as it’s got caffeine.”

And yet he ordered one of the froo froo drinks Amira thinks to herself. Those drinks have the least amount of caffeine out of everything on the menu. He’ll be asleep before he even finishes his drink.

“Well if caffeine is what you need, this drink isn’t what you want. I’ve got just the thing though.” You put away the clear cup for the frappucino with his consent and reach for a regular coffee cup. “What’s your name? I know you’re the only one here but it’s against store policy for any cup to leave this hellhole without a name on it.” He seems to panic at the thought of giving up his name, a wary look morphing his gaze. Her brows creases as she watches him contemplate how he wants to answer what she thinks is a very simple question.

“Jimin...” He says after a minute.

“Ha, that’s cool. There’s a guy in BTS with the same-“ Amira’s hand freezes halfway through writing his name as her drowsy brain starts connecting some very important dots. The news lady on channel six had said they’d be in town this weekend but never in a million years did she expect something like this to happen. She peeks at him from beneath her lashes. He looks ready to bolt out the door at the slightest provocation so she do her absolute best to remain calm for his sake.

Alright, sis you can do this. Just stay cool, calm, and collected. Mama ain’t raise a loser you can do this.

Jimin visibly relaxes when Amira starts writing again and turns to start making his drink. It’s a special concoction she makes for her fellow graveyard peeps. It’s strong enough to knock a donkey on its ass which is why it’s such a hit. One of her regulars, a long haul trucker, tells Amira all the time that he doesn’t know how he’d make it through his long drives without the liquid defibrillator that he practically orders by the gallon. Definitely doesn’t seem safe but he’s got an incredible driving record and he always brings her a fistful of the soft peppermint candies she’s partial to.

“Thank you for not freaking out. I’m not really supposed to be here.” Jimin mumbles as he accepts his drink. He loves interacting with fans but not at two a.m when he’s barely able to stand up from his lack of sleep.

“I gathered as much. Not many global superstars stroll through here at this hour or at all really.” Amira give him a smile that she hopes puts him at ease and, judging by the way his lips turn up a bit, it may have worked.

“Couldn’t sleep and we’ve got interviews all day so at this point I don’t have time to sleep hence the desperate need for caffeine.” He takes a cautious sip of the drink in his hand. She wasn’t kidding when she said that it would help. The caffeine hits his veins with the force of a speeding bullet train and Jimin already feels more alert just a few sips in.

Somehow, talking about his sleep troubles snowballs into a conversation about Disney movies and why Maleficent is the baddest bitch in the Disney realm when the blaring of his ringtone cuts her rant short. A heavy sigh escapes him at the interruption. He’d much rather listen to the adorable barista in front of him continue her impassioned argument, but duty calls.

“Guess that’s my cue. Thank you for the drink and the company.”

“No problem! If that shit starts fucking with your heart rate though you did not get it here. I refuse to be attacked by your twitter army for giving you heart palpitations. I ain’t built for that type of guerilla warfare.” Jimin full on belly laughs, nearly dropping the rest of his drink in the process. He couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile on his face even if he wanted to.

He grips the door handle in his hand but something is holding him back. Something feels unfinished and his feet refuse to move any further until that changes. Jimin turns around to see the source of his frozen feet standing behind the counter again, staring at his still form curiously. Before he can stop himself, Jimin crosses the short distance, snatching the pen stuck to the top of her apron to scribble his phone number on a nearby napkin. The gagging noises she makes when she realize what he’s just done make him feel justified in his rash decision. This time when he backs away, the smile on his face is one of mischief.

“Don’t let this be the last time I talk to you or I’ll never forgive you.” Jimin’s steps feel lighter as he treks back to the hotel to face the wrath of his manager. He hopes desperately that she texts him later. A frown replaces the grin behind his face mask at the prospect of his new crush not contacting him after tonight. His steps falter slightly as he processes the fact that he just met her not even a full hour ago and has already developed a full-fledged crush on her. Oh, Amira, so powerful and yet so unaware of it.

[Amira]: best friend

[Amira]: rise from the dead

[Amira]: I have a story to tell and before you even ask no it can’t wait until a decent hour

[Pomegranate]: if this doesn’t involve you meeting BTS or you hitting the lottery and paying off my crippling student loan debt I promise I don’t care

[Amira]: ….sometimes I swear you’re psychic

[Pomegranate]: BITCH DID YOU HIT THE LOTTO?????

[Pomegranate]: I BEEN YOUR BEST FRIEND FOR 13 YEARS DON’T FORGET ABOUT ME

[Amira]: shut up I didn’t hit the lottery but I did meet someone from BTS…

[Amira]: Jimin to be more specific

Incoming call from Pomegranate

“Well look what we have here. A traitor.” Jimin rolls his eyes at Taehyung’s dramatics but his best friend and bandmate is having none of it. “How dare you go traipsing off into the concrete jungle without me? We’re supposed to cause mayhem together and you left my ass in the middle of the night like I’m some side chick.”

“It’s really not this deep, Tae.”

“To you. Which is exactly why I snitched to Sejin.” Of course, Taehyung was the one to rat him out to their manager. He could be quite vengeful when he felt that he’d been wronged and obviously he took not being invited on his late night coffee hunt as a personal affront. The Capricorn energy coursing through his veins absolutely could not let that stand.

Jimin opens his mouth to respond when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He ignores it for the sake of pacifying Taehyung but when it vibrates twice more his curiosity gets the best of him.

[Unknown]: uhhhh hi?

[Unknown]: ew that was awkward as hell pls forgive me

[Unknown]: shit I didn’t even tell you who I am wow anyways this is the barista you tried to kill earlier also known as Amira

Jimin snorts at Amira’s messages which piques Taehyung’s interest in a major way. He can’t recall a time when his friend has ever looked so disgustingly happy over a text message from anybody. Just as he’s about to lean over to look at the screen, Jimin shoves the sleek iPhone right in his face. He’s babbling on and on about how funny and cute this Amira person is which only serves to further confuse Taehyung.

“I just want you to know that none of that made sense to me.”

Taehyung is almost sorry that he asked as Jimin launches into an impassioned retelling of the beautiful girl that made him a drink that is sure to keep him up until the end of time. A slow smile spreads across Taehyung’s face as he connects the dots. Jimin has a crush. A big one. He can’t wait to tell the other members that their precious Jiminie has finally found someone that meets his incredibly high standards. Out of all the idols back home, both male and female, that have practically thrown themselves at Jimin’s chelsea boots and it’s a random cafe employee that manages to make him totally enraptured.

“So let me get this straight,” Amira’s eyes follow her best friend Cameren as she paces back and forth across her living room. “It’s a regular degular night at work until some guy in a mask walks in and scares the shit outta you. Lo and behold that guy is fucking Park Jimin from BTS and you make him drink that god awful elixir of the damned you insist on serving to people and he actually liked it?”

“Not just that.” She fishes the napkin with Jimin’s number on it out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and carefully unfolds it so that Cameren can see the string of digits scratched into the napkin. The creative string of curses that fly out her mouth would make most people blush but after more than a decade of impassioned screaming, Amira doesn’t even flinch. Her eyes widen comically though when she notices Cameren reaching forward as if to snatch the napkin out of her hand. She thanks God for gifting her with reflexes quick enough to keep it out of Cameren’s reach.

“Bitch! Let me see it.”

“No! He gave me this because he obviously trusted me not to pass it around and I don’t plan to disappoint my future husband this early in the game.” She replies indignantly.

“Look at you. All delusional and shit but whatever I respect it.” Cameren declares as she props herself on the coffee table in front of her best friend. “So, did you text him?”

“Of course I did. Who do you think I am?” Cameren opens her mouth to respond with what is no doubt going to be some witty quip about exactly who she thinks Amira is, but she’s interrupted by the tell-tale ping of her phone receiving a text message. The shocked look on Cameren’s face is perfectly mirrored on Amira’s as she slowly picks her phone up from the couch cushion she’d sat it on.

[Kristoff Hater]: you’re too adorable to be awkward

Amira sits frozen in place as she reads and rereads his message. There’s no way he just said that. There is absolutely no way in hell that the Park Jimin himself just called her adorable. Have the heavens finally opened up? Did God decide that today is the day that she secures the biggest win of all? She’s in such a state of shock that Amira doesn’t even notice Cameren trying to get her attention until she starts physically shaking her shoulder. Amira’s voice box is still refusing to function so she simply hand over her phone to let Cameren see the message for herself. Her friend’s answering shriek perfectly voices Amira’s own feelings.

“He’s typing again!” Cameren thrusts the phone back into Amira’s hands just in time for another message to appear on the screen but she quickly close the conversation when Jimin starts typing once more. It takes longer than expected but the tell-tale ping from her phone makes Amira’s heart skip a beat at what he could possibly have said this time.

[Kristoff Hater]: speaking of you being adorable I need a contact picture so go ahead and hand one over and no one gets hurt

[Kristoff Hater]: or don’t because you’re an autonomous human being and that’s totally up to you but I would really appreciate a picture of your face because I think you’re you’re cute and wow I’m rambling over text which is super embarrassing so I’m going to stop typing now byeeeee

This time, Amira is the one screaming.

“It’s official. You scared her away.” Taehyung claps Jimin on the back from his spot behind him in the van. Jimin continues to stare dejectedly at the stagnant conversation with his mystery woman. It’s been hours since he’d went out on a limb and asked her for a picture with not even a hint of a response. He’d originally thought that he’d eventually get over it and go back to normal but now he’s not so sure.

“Leave him be, Tae.” Namjoon pipes up from Jimin’s left. “It’s important to fully feel and process your emotions no matter how depressing they are.”

“Oh, so now the wannabe philosopher is going to preach to me?”

“It was probably too good to be true any-she texted me back!”

[Coffee Almost Bae]: I’m so sorry 😭

[Coffee Almost Bae]: In the interest of total transparency I had a meltdown because you called me cute and I’ve spent the last fourteen hours trying to psych myself up to respond

Jimin nearly melts into puddle of feelings right where he sits. This girl is entirely too cute for her own good and she doesn’t even realize it. His fingers start flying in response, but his frantic typing is interrupted by another message.

[Coffee Almost Bae]: I believe you asked for this {image attached}

He’d thought that Amira was cute when he’d first met her at the coffee shop but seeing her in this picture is making his heart race. She’s clearly at dinner with friends judging from the crowded table full of food behind her. He’s incredibly appreciative of the way her jeans snugly hug the hourglass frame that her work uniform hides. His eyes are then drawn upwards to her face and he finds himself getting lost in the sheer brilliance of her smile. Eyes bright with a playful energy. Jimin is sure he’s never seen anyone more captivating.

“Yeah I’m definitely in love.” He proudly shows off Amira’s picture to the rest of the group, relishing in the comments about how pretty she are. Jimin chooses to ignore Yoongi’s comment about how he wasn’t sure that she actually existed until he saw the picture. His heart flutters in his chest as he stares fondly at the picture on his screen. He’s so caught up in her beauty that he forgets that you have to actually reply to the text messages in order to keep a conversation going. Until his phone vibrates in his hand.

[Coffee Almost Bae]: OH MY GOD YOU THINK I’M UGLY DON’T YOU I KNEW THIS WAS A MISTAKE I HATE IT HERE

Jimin’s eyes go wide as he realizes the unforeseen consequence that his awestruck staring has resulted in. The concerned questions from the other members roll off his back as he tries to fix the mess he made. The two extra concert tickets that he’d been holding for two of his friends suddenly come to mind. Frustrated with the way he keeps misspelling words in his haste, Jimin throws caution to the wind and hits the call button. He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate to fix this, especially since he just met this girl less than forty eight hours ago but he can’t deny the nerves coursing through him as he waits for Amira to answer the phone.

“Cameren, he thinks I’m ugly. I just know he does.” Amira whines and it’s nearly Cameren’s breaking point. She sighs frustratedly over the phone as she does her best not to yell at Amira for overthinking and sending herself into a panic.

“This man saw you in an unforgiving barista uniform, bare-faced, at three in the morning and still somehow thought you were cute.” Cameren can hear Amira inhale to interrupt her but she powers through, giving her no option but to listen. “If he saw you looking like that then there’s now way he thought the picture you sent him was ugly so stop overreacting. He’s a fucking international superstar someone probably stopped him for an autograph or something. Or maybe he thinks you’re insane for losing your shit because he took more than five minutes to respond.”

On a more rational level, Amira knows that Cameren is right, but it’s not every day that a girl actually gets to live out their fantasy like this. So naturally, she’s insecure and full of nervous energy that is near impossible to get rid of. What if his sleep deprivation made him delirious? What if fully awake Jimin thinks he made a mistake? Cameren is still ranting when Amira’s phone beeps with another phone call. She pull the device away from her ear to see who it is and nearly choke on her own spit.

“He’s calling me! I gotta go.” She ends the call with Cameren and answer Jimin’s before her overactive nerves can convince her not to. The second Amira accepts the call, all that can be heard is Jimin apologizing profusely. Somewhere in there he mentions something about concert tickets and soundcheck and her brain decides to finally kick in to get some clarification.

When he finally starts speaking slow enough for her to understand him, Amira is stunned even further into silence. Front row tickets to their next concert with a primo soundcheck position? Yeah, there’s no way she could pass that up, but there is one issue. Their next concert is in Toronto. As if he can sense what she’s thinking, Jimin immediately offers to fly Amira and whoever she wants to bring with her to Toronto. The sound of raucous laughter in the background drowns out his next sentence, so she can only assume the rest of the group is giving him shit for that.

“I can’t let you do that, Jimin.” Amira already knows that Cameren is going to kill her for this when she fills her in later, but she doesn’t want him to feel like she’s using him for free stuff. He tries his absolute best to change her mind but Amira doesn’t let up.

“At least promise me that last night won’t be the last time I see you.”

“I promise. Now go to sleep before I tell army you’re neglecting yourself because I can hear the exhaustion all in your voice.” Jimin laughs at her playful threat which makes her heart swell with pride at being the one to make him laugh like that. After being a fan for so long, Amira can perfectly picture the adorable way his eyes have probably scrunched closed as he laughs with his whole body. The reluctantly bid each other goodbye after Jimin makes her promise once more that they’ll meet again.

Months have passed since the day Jimin turned Amira’s life into a wattpad fanfiction and since then life has changed in numerous ways for both of them. Amira has gotten a new job. A new dog. A new house. Meanwhile, BTS has hopped from country to country playing to sold out stadiums. Broken fistfuls of records that established western acts admittedly balk at. And yet, despite all these changes, Jimin and Amira’s presence in each other’s lives has remained constant. Whether it be a funny meme he saw online, a FaceTime call at an indecent hour because time zones are weird, or even a postcard from whatever part of the globe BTS has ended up in. Despite their best efforts though, their late night conversation over coffee did not get the follow up that they’d promised to have.

Amira is on her way back to work after meeting up with Cameren for lunch when she gets a text from Jimin. It’s a picture of what looks like a schedule for the upcoming month and it looks pretty empty save for a flight to LA on the fifth. The image is accompanied with several eye emojis and Amira connects the dots immediately. The second she returns to the office, she submits a request for two weeks of leave time. After snapping a picture of her screen, her fingers fly across the screen with a quick message to Jimin.

Amira hasn’t seen Jimin in person since that night at the coffee shop and that thought keeps her up at night as the days fly by. No matter how much careful planning they put in to try and see each other something always seemed to come up and foil whatever plans the two of them had concocted, but this time feels different. Like everything might actually fall perfectly into place. That brings up the question about how Amira is going to handle being face to face with Jimin again. All of his flirting and little pet names have been hard to handle over text but to be in the same room with him and keep her cool is going to be a new kind of challenge. He’s been very direct about what his feelings are and though she feels the same, Amira has been hesitant to reciprocate his romantic sentiments in fear that what she feels is rooted in her love for BTS as a fan. Cameren has been Amira’s saving grace with her pep talks but nothing could ever truly prepare her for the force of nature that is Park Jimin spending two uninterrupted weeks in her house.

Jimin arrives in a whirlwind of designer luggage that he quickly tosses aside in favor of peppering kisses all over Amira’s face while she playfully attempts to fight him off. Her terrier Luna runs circles around the both of them in a frenzy at having a new friend to play with her. Amira’s heart is beating erratically in her chest as Jimin switches tactics, choosing to simply hold her close to him.

“Hello to you too, Ji-” His lips pressing against her own stops Amira’s sentence in its tracks.

She’s always admired how soft his lips looked but to find out just how soft they actually are sends a rush of endorphins coursing through her. All of the qualms she’d had about falling for him melt away like ice cream in the summer sun. Her insecurities suddenly seem so significant as his lips mold against her own like they were meant to be there. A deep groan rattles Jimin’s chest when she gets over her initial shock and reciprocates. He tastes of strawberries and the faintest hint of mint when he explores her mouth with his expert tongue. Amira decides then and there that she would gladly die of suffocation if it meant she could kiss Jimin till she croaked.

They could’ve remained locked together for an indefinite amount of time if not for Luna tugging on Jimin’s pant leg with her teeth, demanding her fair share of his attention. He doesn’t hesitate to scoop the energetic fur ball into his arms, scratching behind one of her ears as Luna practically vibrates in his arms.

“I think this is the part where I tell you I’m in love with you and want to be your boyfriend.” He lifts Luna next to his face and Amira knows she’s in trouble. “Don’t you want to wake up to us every morning? At least for the next two weeks?”

“Kiss me again and you’ve got a deal, boyfriend.”

#bts writers guild #park jimin #jimin fluff #jimin fanfiction #jimin scenario #bts #bts fluff #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #jimin x oc #jimin x poc oc #writing fluff is hard as hell #had to stop myself from making somebody whip out a tiddy #if this is trash mickey did it

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vierschanzentournee · 4 years ago

Note

ok here we go these e gonna be v much random

frede kasper (schmeichel) n jonas (lössl)

wehrlein vandoorne uhh frijns

leyhe geiger Eisenbichler (but hes shrunken)

three last non-family people in your phone gallery

im literally going to have to google jonas i cant remember ANYTHING abt him. ok done that and:

fuck - jonas bc im not really sure what else to do with him, but i think it would be like. awkward. marry - kasper, i just trust him. get drunk with - frede, because anything else would feel like taking advantage of him.

fuck - wehrlein, have you seen the man marry - frijns, i just feel like we’d both do quite a good job of staying out of each other’s way and as far as i’m concerned that makes for a successful marriage. get drunk with - vandoorne, he seems Nice

fuck - leyhe, pretty boy tm marry - geiger, again he doesn’t have too much personality so i could probably accept living with him on a permanent basis get drunk with - markus eisenbichler but he’s been shrunk, bc he would be dead after one drink ig (also just..... if anyone else sees this i promise it’s just an inside joke and not some WEIRD KINK)

that last 3 non family ppl in my photos are glenn carter as jesus in the 2000 jesus christ superstar film, my childhood best friend, and vernon kay. this is. difficult. ig i’d go for...

fuck - glenn carter as jesus, bc it’s the only fuck option which isn’t incredibly mortifying marry - childhood best friend because i’m literally NOT going to marry vernon kay get drunk with - vernon kay, the man the myth the legend

#im not gonna say thank you bc i hate you!#dioogoo

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vincess-princess · 5 years ago

Text

ex malo bonum

behold, the dumpsterfire of a fic i’ve been obsessing over for the last week.

Fandom: Motley Crue Characters, pairings: demon!Nikki Sixx, demon!Tommy Lee, demon!Mick Mars, fallen angel!Vince Neil, Nikki/Vince, elements of Tommy/Vince and hints of Nikki/Tommy Rating: Explicit Warnings (please pay attention!!!): violence, non-con, drug use mention, alcohol mention, self-harm tendencies, suicide attempts, murder Summary: Vince thought he knew where fallen angels go and what they become. But he never expected to go through something like that. A/N: I’m not religious at all and my entire knowledge of Christian canon comes from Jesus Christ Superstar and Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita. I was making up lore on the go and I dare assume almost all of it is completely wrong. If you’re offended by this, please don’t proceed!

As always, huge thanks to @polska-tankietka for editing this, love ya!

Chapter 1.

Word count: 2677

Warnings (for this particular chapter): violence, suicide attempts mention, alcohol mention, drug use mention

“Did it hurt?”

“What?” Vince blinked and looked up from his shot of whiskey. He was already on his fifth, but was only slightly tipsy (must have something to do with the quick regeneration thing). The shitty bar where he was drinking himself into oblivion was dimly lit, and he had to squint to make out the face of a stranger standing behind his shoulder. The stranger’s voice was pleasant, but there was something… unsettling in it. Off-putting. Hostile.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he repeated smugly. His hand crawled onto Vince’s shoulder and clutched it. A hot, blinding spike of something that felt like electric shock went down Vince’s spine, and everything became so clear he wondered how in the world he hadn’t seen it coming. In his defense, they were faster than he thought.

“It did,” Vince raised his head and looked the demon straight in the eyes, curving his lips in disgust. “A lot.”

The first was a car, a truck going down a busy highway with a very convenient pedestrian bridge over it. Vince figured out the right moment and jumped, his white Heaven robes flapping like wings behind his back. When he woke up they were no longer white, but a dark red, the color he would have assumed to be his blood if he had found a single injury on his body. But there hadn’t been any.

He had to change his clothes after that, partly escaping humans too curious for their own good, partly no longer wanting to be reminded of what he had had and what he had lost.

“Drowning your sorrows in whisky, huh?” The demon pulled up a chair and plopped down on it, his hand sliding from Vince’s shoulder down onto his arm and staying there, grazing over the skin with his claws occasionally, oh so carefully. Vince didn’t pull his arm away from the grip, although every fiber of his being protested to the touch. He could reach that one pocket of his jacket with another hand just as easily. “If I were you, I would celebrate.”

“You aren’t me,” Vince retorted indifferently, turning away from the demon and focusing on his almost empty glass.

“Not yet, sweetie.” The demon grasped Vince’s chin with his fingers and turned his head back to face him. Vince shook his fingers off his chin with clear revulsion. “What a pretty thing you are. You know that? Have you already come across the human concept of beauty?”

“No,” Vince said listlessly. He couldn’t care less about the small talk, but the demon’s intentions still weren’t clear to him and asking directly felt weirdly untimely.

“You will,” the demon promised, moving closer to Vince, almost breathing into his ear, and Vince couldn’t help casting a quick look over him. Despite the lack of light, the demon’s eyes looked unnaturally green. “They’re completely obsessed over it. Starving themselves to death, wasting their entire salaries on beauty products, painting their faces until they are unrecognizable, squeezing their bodies into uncomfortable clothes. It’s so much fun. How did you manage to get such a good-looking body, though? All the angels I met looked like middle-aged accountants at best. Heaven is really obsessed over its employees’ purity.”

“Random distribution,” Vince murmured and downed his shot. The demon waved to the barista and showed him two fingers. A few moments later two shots of whisky were sent their way.

The second time, it was the height. Vince stood atop a twenty-story building and looked down at the busy street beneath, and everything was so little and insignificant. He didn’t have his wings anymore, but he could feel the rapture of flying one more time.

Vince woke up in the hole on the pavement the shape of which resembled that of his body. He had only a few scratches and not a single bone broken. He kept touching those scratches for the next hour until they healed.

Last time there were no injuries. Progress.

“I’m paying, baby.” The demon pulled a wallet out of the pocket of his leather jacket and slid two dollar-bills the barista’s way. “Enjoy your downfall. Did you already get the concept of money? Those humans turned pieces of metal and paper into their literal gods. They’re ready to die for it. How many of them, you think, are ready to die for an actual God, like real Jesus Christ, nowadays?”

His name out of the mouth of this despicable creature was like a string snapping in Vince’s chest, badly cutting his insides. “Don’t you dare speak His name,” he hissed, jerking his arm away from the demon’s grasp and moving his chair farther down the bar counter. If his gaze could kill, the demon’s body would already have been sprawled on the floor under the counter.

“Or what?” the demon stretched out his hand and wrapped his fingers around Vince’s elbow again, dragging him back in place. The chair legs gritted across the floor loudly, and Vince felt like all the eyes in the bar were on them now. The demon’s claws, painted in chipped black nail polish, were digging deep into his skin, but this time Vince didn’t try to wrestle away from his grip. This creature isn’t worthy of your anger, he reminded himself. “You’ll tell him and he’ll punish me? Funny. He no longer needs you, honey. That’s why he got rid of you. Threw you out like a toy he got fed up with.”

“Shut up,” Vince bit his lip and looked away. Every word slashed his soul like a sword, leaving deep, bleeding, unhealable cuts. “Stop that. Just-“ too early, a warning flashed across his mind, but he shook it off. The demon was clearly mocking him, and Vince wasn’t going to put up with that. “just tell me what you want from me.”

The third time, there were drugs. He tried regular pills from the pharmacy first - he heard they can cause death when consumed in excessive amounts. He woke up in the public toilet of some fast-food restaurant, in the puddle of his own vomit, with people banging on the door and shouting. Then there were other drugs, which people buy not in clean, white pharmacies with smiling women in doctor’s robes, but in dark alleys and night clubs. People didn’t want to give it to Vince without money, and he could no longer use any of his previous powers, so getting them was one hell of a job. All of which was in vain, because Vince only got a short and sharp sting of pleasure across his body before descending into darkness, and then woke up, this time in a hospital, surrounded by dumbfounded doctors.

“Nothing much,” the demon smiled sweetly and almost gently tucked a stray golden lock behind Vince’s ear. The demon’s own hair was pitch-black and wild, framing the sides of his face and falling onto his forehead, but still not managing to hide the uncanny gleam in his eyes. “You’re a pretty little thing, and I like pretty little things. Let’s hook up, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Hook up?” Vince frowned, and the demon laughed sincerely.

“Sweet innocence. Don’t worry, you’ll learn. It won’t take long. You’ll enjoy it. It’s one of the things humans do all the time, to have fun or kids or both, or aiming for one and getting the other.”

Vince gave him a long, hard look, for the first time this evening. He foresaw that – well, not exactly that, but something of a kind – and the blade dipped in holy water was now warming in the pocket of his jacket, reacting to the demonic presence. Killing a demon was hard and usually disapproved of by the authorities – the privilege of killing belonged only to high-ranked angels, ones who could withstand the temptation of sin inevitably coming with it. It was even harder for a fallen angel devoid of the Lord’s blessing. But it was possible.

His human vessel was shorter and weaker than that of the demon. But he had the blade. He had the advantage.

“Checking me out, huh?” The demon traced his fingertips along Vince’s jawline. Vince didn’t flinch back. “I gotta say, I am extremely lucky with my current vessel. It gets me all the chicks.”

“My human form is male.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re pretty, you qualify. Blond too. Love blonds.” The demon grinned, his teeth slightly sharper than human’s, a little bit too many of them. Devil is in the details, Vince recalled.

“Why don’t you get any other human then? Why me?”

“Honey, what demon wouldn’t want to bang a freshly fallen angel? It’s not every day that we have visitors from up there. You reek of Heaven, blondie. There’s still a lot of it in you. I wanna know how it feels.”

The demon licked his lips, eyeing Vince up as though he wanted to eat him whole. Vince shuddered but didn’t look away. He wasn’t afraid of him, after all.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna wait for you to come to terms with it. Don’t test my patience.”

“What if I refuse?” Vince carefully moved the untouched shot away, barely brushing the glass with the tip of a finger. The demon didn’t comment on it, but his gaze lingered on the rejected whisky a little longer than necessary.

“Then there will be a very loud and unpleasant scene that will surely feature in every newspaper by the end of the day. I feel like you still don’t fully understand,” the demon leaned closer to Vince and almost whispered in his ear, “I will get you anyway. You can only choose how, by force or by your own will.”

Vince closed his eyes, suppressing the urge to grip the handle of the blade through the jacket. He knew, of course, that demons couldn’t be trusted with a conversation, let alone an agreement. He shouldn’t have answered him in the first place. On the other hand, in this case. the demon wouldn’t have left him alone and would have forced him to answer. He couldn’t get rid of him with God’s power – he was no longer able to use it, neither could he deal with him with the help of simple, brutal force. Because he, as any angel, was against violence in general, not because the demon was half a head taller than him and had claws and sharp teeth.

Maybe it was better to just submit. Maybe the demon would be too distracted during this “hook-up”, whatever he was going to do to him, and wouldn’t notice Vince pulling out the blade. Maybe.

Submit and just let him do whatever he wants? something whispered quietly to him inside his head, something the invisible presence of which Vince could feel but only now got to hear. So you would let the forces of evil run amok because you’re not supposed to beat them?

Yes, Vince cut the something off and turned to the demon.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “It won’t take long, will it?”

“It will take as much as I need, angel, and by the end you will beg for more,” the demon promised complacently and pulled him up from the chair. “Come on. My car is in the parking lot.”

“Isn’t that kinda… uncomfortable?” Vince raised his eyebrow, for a second actually trying to imagine two whole people trying to find enough room on the backseat.

The demon burst into laughter, but the grip on Vince’s arm remained tight. “That’s the point, baby! Quick and dirty, exactly what you angels deserve. Come on.” He headed to the door, dragging Vince along.

Once they were outside, Vince lingered a little to inhale crisp, fresh night air - most of the Earth smells were still new to him, and some of them were quite pleasant. The demon interpreted it differently.

“Nervous? Don’t worry, all virgins are. You at least will probably be the first fallen angel to get rid of his virginity so quickly. Some never even get to experience it.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re ugly as hell, haven’t you heard me? I’m telling you,” he turned to Vince and poked him in the chest, “I’m telling you, this vessel is gonna be your best asset on this Earth. Everyone likes beautiful people. It’ll make your life down here easier. Actor, singer, model, hooker – choose whatever you want. Oh, here’s my car.” The demon pointed at a black, relatively small car in the farthest slot of the parking lot. “Seems small, but I can assure you, it fits our needs perfectly.”

“Your needs.”

“Eh, stop playing Virgin Mary. Mary Magdalene had a much better time before Jesus showed up. The girl was going places.” The demon grinned at the sight of indignation on Vince’s face. They approached the car, but instead of opening the door the demon backed Vince up against it, grabbed his collar and pulled him into a sloppy kiss.

Vince didn’t get to know what it felt like. A belt wrapped around his throat and yanked his body backward, hitting his back against the car roof and pinning him down to it. Vince’s hands flew up to the belt, scratching on it in a fruitless attempt to loosen it, but the assaulter was strong, stronger than him. And a demon as well, because the mere touch of his hands sent another spike of hot, buzzing electricity down Vince’s spine.

“Hold him!” The demon who brought him here tried to grab his wrists, got a kick in the stomach and had to take a second to drag himself off the ground. The second time he tried to grab him Vince was prepared.

The demon gasped and recoiled, his hands jerking up to his chest where the blade was now buried, barely audible sizzling coming out from the wound. The one behind Vince’s back almost rushed to help him, loosening his grip, but was stopped by a fierce glare of then-green eyes, now a solid black. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Vince’s hair and banged his head on the car roof so hard it dented - the head or the roof, Vince didn’t really understand, because the world blurred in front of his eyes.

The next thing he remembered was lying on the cold pavement, hot blood dripping onto his eyes. A stray lock was hanging in front of his face, all smeared in blood as well. His hands were tied by the same belt that had been wrapped around his neck. Two demons stood above him, both black-haired and tall, their eyes now pitch-black, both radiating rage so intense it heated up the air around them.

“Fucking bitch,” the one from the bar spit out. “Who do you think you are to use this?” he raised the blade carefully by the handle. It was still covered in his blood, which oozed slowly from the cut in his chest and stained his shirt. Apart from that, it didn’t seem to cause much harm. “You’re no longer the warrior of God, blondie. You’re the same as us now. Wanna see?”

He kicked Vince in the side to roll him onto his back and then drove the blade right into his shoulder. Vince thought he knew what it would feel like: he had tried cutting himself before.

He didn’t expect it to burn, the same way it did in the demon’s flesh.

The demons didn’t even let him scream out his pain. They put something sticky on his mouth and threw him onto the backseat. The new, taller one, whose face Vince hadn’t managed to make out, got behind the wheel, and the green-eyed one sat at the back with Vince, his hand gripping his arm firmly, claws digging into his skin and leaving deep red marks.

Vince didn’t notice the pain. Tears streamed down his face silently while he was frantically, desperately searching for that connection he had always had deep inside his soul, the connection to Him.

He searched, and searched, and found nothing.

#motley crue fanfiction #vince neil #nikki sixx #supernatural au #angel/demon au #ex malo bonum #motley crue slash fanfiction #tommy lee #(an honorable mention)#tw: alcohol #tw: drugs #tw: suicide attempt #tw: violence #please stay safe babes!#damn this fic just went and took over my life and i'm so for it #haven't written dark stuff in a while and damn did i miss it #vince is gonna suffer a lot #sorry baby :(#i still love you #my last updates got not so many notes and considering the number of warnings on this one there will probably be none #but please if you read it let me know if you liked it #this fic is important to me on some whole different level than wilwif #not that wilwif is not important: it is and just as much #just......they're so completely different #yes i will go back to wilwif once i finish this if anyone cares #i just need to get this one out of my system #anyway im shutting up #also will post it on ao3 #AH SHIT I FORGOT #tw: dubcon

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whereisthecd · 5 years ago

Text

Magnolia Riders: SuperM/Saddle Club AU ✨

CHAPTER TWO

Meet the Magnolia Riders, a high caliber Equestrian Club showcasing some of the best, albeit chaotic, talent in the region. As the winter rest is coming to a close, the high intensity training at Sunset Magnolia Equestrian Center resumes in preparation for the first hunter jumper show of the season. While the team of hardworking goofballs is hoping to get their first group win of the season, their competition seems to be internal with the It Rider™️ on their team creating one storm after another. And then there’s the new guy with a not-so-superstar horse, or so it seems. How will the Magnolia Riders do this season? Will the barn aisle drama subside enough for a win? What’s with this new guy and will he find his way as a Magnolia?

Chapter One

Chapter Two: Sugar and Spice

Mark pulled up to the gravel driveway of the Wong residence. Their house was small yet charming, two apple trees perched at the end of the driveway next to the family Mustang that Mark and Ten drove. Mark gave the routine honk which signaled Lucas to run out of the house, two grocery bags in hand. As he opened the door he tossed both bags in carelessly, letting them hit the opposing window.

“Hey thanks man! Dad and I still haven’t figured out what’s wrong with the truck. I love the classic look of an old Ford but man are they a pain to fix,” he said before patting the shoulders of Mark and Ten in the front seats.

“No problem, dude,” Ten answered before taking a sip of his iced coffee. It wasn’t normal for the guys to be out before 9am on a Saturday, but today was the annual Magnolia Riders Bake Sale, and with high goals set for the season, they had no choice but to wake up early.

“Do y’all think we’ll make anything this year?” Lucas asked eagerly. His seatbelt was fastened, but being in the middle allowed for his giant frame to hang over the center console, arms still on the backs of the two front seats. Ten and Mark both looked at each other, unsure how to answer that question.

“Well, I don’t know. I mean we barely made enough money last year to cover show registration fees. And we need new jackets. I just don’t want Taemin to have to pull to other funding sources, you know? Sunset Magnolia is a high caliber farm and I just want us to be able to prove that we can represent that,” Mark added, his voice soft. He didn’t look at either of them, attentive to the road. Ten, on the other hand, casually leaned back and looked at Lucas.

“Yeah, the short answer to that is if we don’t sell enough cookies our pride is fucked again this year, so I hope those scones you brought are worth every penny,” he sassed before taking another sip of his coffee. Lucas gasped before releasing a deep chuckle, his cheeks leaving their beautiful brown tone for a softer pink blush.

“Well they’re store-bought and masked in my mom’s tupperware, so I hope so too!” Lucas yelled before falling back into his seat. The boys all let out cracks of laughter, drowning out the music Mark had blasting from the radio. A few minutes past. The boys listened to the K-pop that Ten had selected for the remainder of the drive. For a moment it felt like last season, just the three of them against the world, and Baekhyun of course. It was by no means the best season, but it was one they couldn’t forget. This year was supposed to be better, it had to be. Before long, Mark perked up to the group.

“Hey do you think Taeyong will be there? I mean, someone texted him right?” Mark waited for a response. It had been almost a week since Taeyong and Flower moved into the barn. While it wasn’t easy to fit into the group, they all agreed he was better than Baekhyun. With high hopes for this season, they just needed a teammate more than anything. Ten pursed his lips for a few moments before answering.

“Well, as long as he doesn’t get in the way of Taemin and me, I don’t care how many cookies he sells,” Ten settled back into the seat, looking out the window as they slowly approached the shopping center where their mobile bakery would station itself.

“Jesus, Ten, all you care about is getting in his pants,” Lucas said, half joking and half serious.

“No, it’s much deeper than that! You know that! Come on, do I have to explain this again -”

“No dude, you’re fine, trust me. I’m just kidding. Taeyong is going to be fine, he’s not coming for you. Do you see how soft he is? He named his horse Flower!” Lucas put his hand on Ten’s shoulder.

“Hey, you can’t pipe in with that when my horse is named Annabelle and I am proud of that,” Mark replied, looking at Lucas in the rearview while parking the oldsmobile one-handed in the shopping center.

“Hey hey, there is nothing wrong with being soft. Not at all, I’m just trying to calm our drama king over here,” Lucas knudged Ten before unbuckling his seatbelt. “Besides, the TaeTen Love Story is the least of our worries right now, we just need to sell some shit.”

Ten blushed and silenced any clapback he formed in his head. It wasn’t worth any further embarrassment. The boys got out of the Mustang and collected their faux homemade goods, then headed towards the sitting area of the shopping center. They always had their bake sale here. Kai would usually drop off their table and banner before sunrise, in between the Hal’s WorkWear and Lily Ray’s Smoothie Shop. Between the two, they always hoped they would find a few customers. As they approached the area they expected to find their supplies, usually up against the edge of a raised garden, full of ferns and a few tulips, they found a different sight.

Taeyong sat at the thin metal table, the Magnolia Riders banner hanging perfectly off the edge. In front of him sat a smorgasbord of baked treats: cookies, cupcakes, tarts, macarons, muffins, and tea cakes. It looked like he had been up for days, buried in a sweatshirt and hair flying in every direction. The site was a surprise for the boys, and the boxes of goods sitting behind Taeyong was an even bigger shock.

“Holy...what is all this? Did you do this?” Mark asked, walking up to Taeyong, who was now frantically trying to stand up out of his chair.

“I, I - yeah, I did this. In my spare time I like to bake. I figured the least I could do was help out here. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know earlier. I have Lucas’s number but I didn’t know if it would be weird to reach out or not. I have like, 12 dozen items here. Do you think that’s a good start?” Taeyong spoke quietly, his arm resting on his other shoulder, trying to hide his heart racing under the pink sweatshirt he wore.

“Dude! This is better than okay. This is everything we could ask for!” Lucas yelled as he threw the scones he was carrying in the garbage. “Screw these! Yours are going to make us money!” The rest of the boys giggled and crowded around Taeyong, hoping to see some customers show up soon now that the shopping center was open for business.

Within the hour, a slow herd of shoppers flowed through the line. Usually a measly three or four donations an hour felt like success, but with Taeyong’s pop-up bakery in the works, it felt like non-stop traffic. Taeyong spent most of his time informing each customer of the buttercreams and fruit fillings he made. Mark spent his time as the Magnolia cashier, doing quick math, while Lucas and Ten schmoozed with their wit into leaving extra donations. It felt like the first time in a while that the Riders were in sync, and thanks to Taeyong, they were making bank.

As the next couple hours passed, their business slowed into a steady pace, giving the boys enough time to restock the table and chat between customers. The constant flow of donations was welcoming, but everyone was a bit relieved to catch their breaths. Lucas took a few moments to sneak into the smoothie shop and buy everyone drinks, a treat Taeyong was appreciative of.

“Ah there was no need to do that, thank you,” Taeyong said, hesitantly taking the smoothie from Lucas. His arm grabbed onto Taeyong’s shoulder in a rough yet reassuring way.

“No man, we owe you. You saved our asses today with this bake sale. We usually don’t even make a third of this, seriously,” Lucas urged, keeping his hand on Taeyong for a few more moments. Taeyong stared down at the table, eyeing the metal box stuffed to the hinges with dollar bills, the only thing of value in front of them, aside from the last few cakes, and crumbs of those who were snatched up before. His thin eyebrows furrowed from deep thought.

“Wait, but…” his voice cracked, “we have nearly 1100 bucks here. And that was with some huge donations. Show registrations alone cost like 40 bucks a person. How do you guys even make it past the spring show every year -”

“Look we know,” Ten interrupted, not in anger but embarrassment, “there’s a reason things run the way they do around here.” Ten nostrils flared between breaths. Mark and Lucas lightly nodded their heads. There was an unspoken agreement that Taeyong would learn as his time with the Magnolia Riders continued. He stayed looking up at the boys, his eyes widened into a soft begging stare, knowing there was more info he needed.

“Look,” Lucas said. “Did it strike you as odd that Baekhyun called us all teammates?” He sat down in the metal chair next to Taeyong, slouching deep into the seat in an attempt to avoid the frustration of the topic at hand.

“Oh, yeah? That annoying blonde guy. He’s on our team? Well why wasn’t he at our lesson then? Isn’t he supposed -” Taeyong paused, seeing the rest of the boys begin to roll their eyes. “What did I say? Did I mess up?”

“No, no it’s not you, we promise,” Mark began, leaning from his chair to see Taeyong’s face from the other end of the table. “There’s a reason for all this. Baekhyun gets his own lessons. It’s to return a favor. His parents are LOADED. Like, hella loaded.” Taeyong looked at the boys as if he was desperately trying to solve a math problem they threw at him. Ten was quickly growing impatient, desperately wanting Taeyong to connect the dots so he didn’t have to say the answer out loud.

“Come on, I know you are smart enough for this,” Ten sneered, now moving his hands hoping to roll out an answer from Taeyong. His eyes suddenly widened, eyebrows now stretched near the top of his widow’s peak.

“You’re not telling me….” He began to say, letting out a gasp once he connected the dots.

“That is EXACTLY what we are telling you, bro,” Lucas said before running his hand through his hair, tugging at the ends just above the back of his neck.

“His family does the Riders a favor, suddenly we have registration and jacket funds, and then Taemin returns the favor back.” Mark mumbled, the straw of his smoothie hanging onto the ends of his lips, the other end tapping back and forth on the inside of his cup. Taeyong barely knew these boys, and certainly didn’t know Baekhyun, but it was clear where the battle lines were drawn. He tried his best to always keep an open mind and be free of judgement, but it was clear that this situation was much more complicated than his heart wanted it to be.

“Shouldn’t he be here?” Taeyong asked, growing anxious about the politics of his new riding club.

“Why show up and help a team you don’t give a shit about when your parents are just gonna donate their funds for your private lessons anyways,” Lucas huffed.

“Trust me there is nothing I hate more than having to be a known competitor simply due to his parent’s money. It’s not like we don’t work our asses off outside of Sunset Magnolia for him to flaunt someone else’s money in our face. I spend the remainder of my free time scooping ice cream for minimum wage while he just uses mommy and daddy’s money to get the best of everything and I’m just expected to sit with it. God I hate him!”

“Sounds like someone is just upset he doesn’t get his own private lessons with Taemin,” Mark let out, immediately regretting his decision as Ten threw a half eaten cupcake at his chest.

“Fuck off, Mark. I know where you sleep,” Ten pouted before collecting himself. Taeyong stood up and started to pack the remaining treats.

“No, you’re right. We all work too hard to let someone else just buy their way in. But that’s not happening this year, because we have the registration fees right here,” Taeyong began, chucking the box of cash into Ten’s hands. “It won’t cover everything, but at least he can’t take this credit from us. And it’ll be a nice surprise for him when he sees how we don’t need his money all the time,” Taeyong tried to affirm his team as best as he could. He was still the new guy, but this was who he had to fight for now. Ten looked back at Taeyong, he didn’t say anything, but Taeyong could feel the rage dissolving. The boys slowly packed up and walked towards the parking lot, satisfied with the best bake sale in Magnolia Rider’s history.

Taeyong followed the boys, who were all making random conversation about next week’s lesson plan and whether or not Baekhyun’s horse, Galina, was real or a robot, to the family Mustang. Before long they all stood in the empty parking space next to the car, kicking a pebble back and forth and continuing small talk, hoping to prolong getting into the car.

“Oh wait, did someone text Kai about coming to get the table? I don’t want someone to take it. God forbid our hard earned cash goes to table recovery,” Mark chimed in.

“Oh I’ll just throw it in the back of my truck, I was gonna go see Flower anyway. It’s no big deal,” Taeyong offered, his hands now digging deep into his back pockets, pushing his scrawny yet broad shoulders forward through his sweatshirt.

“Oh, no way! You and Lucas can be truck buddies now!” Mark exclaimed, “well, once he gets his fixed.”

“Oh no way? You know I’ve had to fix mine plenty of times, gotta love a classic Chevy. If you want some help I’d be happy to take a look,” Taeyong offered, hoping he played his cards right. He was slowly growing more comfortable with these guys, but didn’t want to take any good moments for granted. Lucas stepped forward, right hand extending out. His arms were long but insanely muscular for such an agile equestrian.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, man!” he jokingly shook Taeyong’s hand before patting his shoulder and turning back to the car. “See you at the barn on Monday?”

Taeyong nodded, letting out a soft smile. Mark walked around towards the driver’s seat before hollering over the roof.

“Hey, Ten and I are gonna be working at the ice cream parlor down on 127th and Maple tomorrow if you want to stop by!” Ten walked up to Taeyong, trying to make conversation a bit more intimate.

“Yeah man, stop by anytime. And….thanks for being on our team, you’re one of us now,” Ten said quietly, looking down at his feet and then back into Taeyong’s eyes. A few black strands of hair fell into Ten’s brow, softening the edgy front he originally put on earlier that morning.

“And...I’m sorry for being so hard on you during our first lesson, you’re really good, and we might actually have a shot this year with you on board.” Taeyong let out a small half smile, his right dimple stretching down to his jawline.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m really thankful to be here,” Taeyong said. He began to turn back towards the shopping center for the table, but stopped a couple steps into his journey. He looked back over his shoulder, yelling out to Ten as he tucked into the passenger seat.

“And I haven’t seen him ride, but trust me, you’re no number two. I’ve never seen someone ride like that. You’re at least my number one,” he said. Ten smiled back at Taeyong before rolling up the window, watching as his friend slowly made his way to complete his favor.

#superm #superm fic #nct 127 #exo #wayv #shinee #baekhyun #taeyong #wayv lucas #wayv ten #exo kai #mark lee #taemin #baekyong #slow burn #light smut #fluff #magnolia riders

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nextgensquad · 5 years ago

Note

Was wondering if Ellie had any ideas for Louis Weasley? Specifically on his love life or job after Hogwarts? Thanks ☺️

Louis still can’t get used to the kinds of questions journalists like to ask. They seem so much intrusive than he feels like they should be allowed to be. It’s been a full year since his first appearance for the Tornadoes, a mad year of fan hysteria and trophies and journalists, and he still feels like none of this belongs to him.

“Relax.” His teammate’s arm wraps around his shoulders, camera-ready smile never faltering. “It’s all good. You’re Louis Weasley, they’re dying to have you here. Just be cool.”

“Yeah,” Louis just about manages, and takes a deep breath. He’s always wondered how Xander makes it all look so easy, like none of this has ever bothered him for a second. He floats through life, untouched, impenetrable.

Louis puts his hands in his pockets and tries to mimic Xander’s easy grin, his confident stance. “Fake it for long enough,” Xander murmurs, removing his arm, “and you’ll end up believing it.”

Louis hopes he’s telling the truth. He holds his grin in place even as it wants to slide off his face, and the first of the journalists is allowed to rush in and take their seat. Soon he and the other four who’ve been dragged to the press conference are facing a bristling forest of up-thrust arms. Team captain Reiner Urquhart squares his shoulders and calls for the first question.

“Louis, are the rumours about a potential transfer to the Appleby Arrows true?”

Louis resists the urge to duck his head. Xander sits back and lays a lazy arm over the back of Louis’ chair, a subtle show of support. Louis has been given the seat at the end of the row, in the vain hope it will remind this roomful of hyenas that other people on this team are worth paying attention to, but he can still feel the sullen irritation of Barnes and Robbins, first-choice Seeker and first-choice Beater, who have never got over Louis’ popularity.

He clears his throat. “Not true at all.”

The journalists persists. “You’ve been linked with them recently.”

“He’s linked with five teams a week, Dorian, give him a break,” parries Xander, fingers tapping. “It’ll be the fucking French next.”

“He is half-French, to be fair,” interrupts Urquhart, and points out another journalist. “Next question.”

“Louis, have you reconciled with your parents yet?”

There’s a hiss of disgust from either Barnes or Robbins. Louis swallows and remembers what Xander said: fake it until you believe it.

“I’d rather not talk about it. Now, Urquhart’s mother, on the other hand—” And he turns, grinning, as Urquhart hollers down the table for him to shut up. That provokes laughter, a subtle easing of tension, and Louis thinks that maybe he’ll get away with it.

“Right, another question,” calls Urquhart over the hubbub, “and ask us something about the team, you arseholes.”

More laughter, and obligingly a young reporter from the Prophet stands up and enquires, “How are the renovations on the training ground going?”

As more questions begin to fly, Louis lets himself breathe out. He gets a few more, but the others jump in for him as often as not, and as soon as it’s obvious that he’s not going to be drawn out on anything personal, they start firing questions at Xander too, their usual favourite subject.

Afterwards, Xander and Urquhart drag him to a quiet pub they like for a debrief.

“Will they fucking give it up,” Louis grouses into his pint, “Jesus. My personal life has nothing to do with them.”

“It’s because they think you’re hiding something.” Xander is drinking a sparkling water, a far cry from the party boy he likes to be in front of the press. “You gotta be an open book like me if you want them to stop prying.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” says Louis untruthfully, and takes another big swallow. “And, anyway, you sure are hiding something. I know about that fifteen-year-old at Hogwarts, remember.”

Xander scowls. “She told me she was seventeen. The amount of make-up she was wearing, good god. How was I supposed to know? How did you even find out?”

“My cousin’s friends with her,” says Louis, and then shuts that train of thought down before it can go any further.

“Lily Potter, right? Jeez. There’s one I wouldn’t mind causing trouble with.”

Even Urquhart nods in solidarity, and Louis has to be very careful not to let his knuckles tighten around his glass.

“That’s my cousin, man.”

Urquhart shrugs, his Guinness halfway to his mouth. “Sure you can still see she’s fit, come on. Like sixty percent of my parents’ friends are married to their cousins. Purebloods, huh?”

“Muggles, too.” Xander sits back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his abs. “My father’s sister married a first cousin. Keep all that wealth in the family.”

“Muggle peers, ” sneers Urquhart, teasing, and Louis bangs his glass down before Xander can take umbrage. He’s funny about his family, Xander, happy enough to remind anyone that he’s the son of a lord, thank you so much, but a real shit when he feels like people are being rude about it.

“Anyway,” Louis says loudly, “that first question – do you think someone sneaked? About the new team?”

“Keep your voice down.” Urquhart is instantly serious, leaning in. “Shit, Weasley, be careful. None of us are out of contract for another year. If the Tornadoes get wind of it—”

“They won’t.” Xander is still lolling, indolent and sure. “The only people that know so far are the ones who stand to benefit. Dobbing us in will leave them worse off than keeping the secret.”

“Nobody’s ever done anything like this before,” agrees Louis, “they’ll never see it coming. It’s been the same thirteen teams since 1674, it’d be suicide to set up a fourteenth.”

“Our kind of suicide.” Xander grins ferally. “Three hundred and fifty years is enough of the same thing. They’ve stagnated, hey? Poaching players off each other, nobody caring enough to think long-term.”

“The Tornadoes Academy—” starts Urquhart, to a snort of derision from Xander.

“Lip-service to the idea, and only because you and I raised such a stink about it. I’m serious. If they want British Quidditch to stay competitive on the world stage, we have to start developing kids. Developing them properly, I mean, not just depending on that particular house at Hogwarts having a decent captain to give them some piecemeal training. Look at Weasley, come on.”

Urquhart does, and Louis frowns back at him. “What about me?”

“I mean, kid, come on, you’re the superstar, but you were not the right choice for a team captain.”

Louis has asked Xander to stop calling him kid a hundred times, and it has not worked yet, but he still gives him the finger. Xander’s only twenty-five, after all, hardly eons older than him.

“Xander, be nice,” says Urquhart, but Louis waves him down.

“Nah, he’s right. I hated being captain. I don’t like being responsible for training or decisions or anything. I just want to be out there flying.”

“And that’s what makes you the best Keeper in two hundred years.” Xander nods sagely. “But that’s the shit thing, isn’t it? Best player means captain at Hogwarts, so you got kids that could be great with development just stagnating because a good player doesn’t necessarily make a good captain, and they miss out on their shot at joining a team – one of thirteen teams, I mean, shit! Where’s the scope for expansion?”

“’Stagnating’ your word of the week or something, Hawkley?” Urquhart asks, and Xander just sighs.

“It’s the right thing. We’re doing the right thing.”

“I’d feel a lot better about it if we were out of contract already. Those lawyers absolutely fucking terrify me.” Louis gives a not-entirely-theatrical shudder. “Thank god for Ben.”

Ben, his sort-of-brother-in-law, who managed to get welcomed to the family despite knocking Victoire up after dating for a single month by making the most of the chaos when Louis quit school out of nowhere to join the Tutshill Tornadoes six months before the end of his final year at Hogwarts. Louis has never regretted the decision, but he regrets the bewildered disappointment it produced in his parents, who will never understand why he couldn’t just finish those final short months before leaving.

How can he ever explain it to them, when the real reason is one he will never even allow himself to think about?

“Is he still going over the contracts?” Urquhart is swirling the dregs of his Guinness around the bottom of the glass. “I’m slightly terrified of what he’ll find.”

“Yeah. He said he’d ring when he’s sure how it’s going to go down.”

“So much paperwork.”

“Well, if we got a backer like I keep saying—” starts Urquhart, and Xander and Louis both lean in.

“We can’t.”

“No, Urquhart, shit,” says Xander over Louis, “come on. You were worried about leaks with just us and Elsa Templar on the in, you want to add some slob-mouthed businessman to the mix?”

“We’re going to need the funding soon.”

“No.” Louis puts both hands down. “My career’s barely started and I’m putting it all on the line for this. We do it safe as we can.”

Xander scoffs. “Your career’s a safe bet, Weasley. You could fuck up beyond all recognition and any team would still commit murder to have you. Us replaceable Chasers, mind—”

“Ah, fuck off.” Urquhart rolls his eyes. “You’re a flashy little bastard but anyone can see how good you are. It’ll be me that takes the rap if this goes wrong, and we all know it. I’m twenty-nine, that’s practically ancient for Quidditch, and there’s rumours of a set of hard-ass little Beaters coming up through Hogwarts right now. But it’s fine.” He holds a hand up to forestall Xander and Louis’ protests. “I made my peace with that when we first started talking about it. That’s why I’m doing it, because I want to leave more of a legacy than just being a decent Tornadoes captain. I want to build something. This is that something.”

“We will do it,” promises Louis, wide-eyed and zealous. “You watch. We’ll smash it. The League’ll never keep us out, not with me and Xander and Templar playing. If they try, if they want us to go and join other teams, then I’ll go play for France and—”

“—I’ll go back to playing polo for my old man,” finishes Xander, grinning. “And we’ll see how well England do without us.”

Urquhart shakes his head at both of them, but he’s smiling, benevolent, proud of these young men he’s built out of nothing.

“Death or glory, then, boys,” he says, and lifts his empty glass. They chink their drinks together, all laughing, and Louis downs the rest of his pint. This is what he joined the Tornadoes for; this is what he listened for when Xander first drew him aside and said, “Right, look, Weasley—”

Like this, the future glowing bright and glorious and full of challenge, it’s the easiest thing to pretend the past never happened, that his heart doesn’t beat broken in his chest, that there wasn’t ever nearly a baby, that he never let it all get out of control. That he is the picture he presents to the world: Quidditch superstar, golden boy, Keeper darling. That this is all there is.

#louis weasley #harry potter next generation #next gen harry potter #next generation #harry potter fanfiction #ours #ellie #writing #thank you so much for this ask!!! i've been thinking about louis a lot lately #as he features very heavily in a lily fic i'm working on off another request #and it was so fun developing his future self for this!!#warwounds

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chimtaesty · 6 years ago

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BH8 | episode one

pairing: bts ot7 x reader | 3.5k words

warnings: none

plot: You're big hits first ever artist and only solo artist. And since bts are your only label mates (we are not including txt yet pls) bighit decided to built up a reality show called “BH8”

The happenings will be written normally but the commentary and the editing on the episodes will be written in cursive

A/N: hi there bbys! I've been so busy even though I have thousand requests and unfinished work. I hope you can wait for me. This thing will be a series I can update whenever I want to just spear me the consistent uploading. I hope you like it!

(a collab song between Y/N and BTS plays for the intro while the artists laugh and have fun)

BigHit’s 7+1 makes BH8 slides across the screen as you sit there with the MC’s and the boys next to you.

A show combining the most successful artists of this century. A legendary solo artist who debut 12 years ago and the superstars bts combined in one show. Does that make you as happy as it does us?

You smile slightly as the clip of you fighting with them in front of the pool where they tried to push you into the water is played. The first to start is your day. Your alarm goes off and a groan is able to be heard. Uh? Who has to get up this early? the camera focuses on your bed and in the same moment you kick the blanket off to reveal you and your cats. You are dressed in some shorter, not hot pants-short, pants and a hoodie. “Mh, mocca. We have to get up” You shake your cat softly and your other two cats are quick to save themselves under your blanket.

You sit yourself up and stretch your limbs. Within a second Jangmi is in your lab just to rub his head against your tummy. “So you have three cats Y/N?” Jo Kwon asks you with a kind smile and you nod. “Yes, I originally had two last year but since I won a grammy last year I got Jaehee as a present. She’s the youngest” Jo Kwon nods and you all concentrate on the show again.

You take your cat and start to kiss Jangmi enthusiastically on her face. She dislikes it and starts to try pushing you away with her paws Eomma, stop. I don’t want kisses this early hovers over Jangmi’s head in a pink bubble. You laugh and put her down. The slippers find your feet fast and you take your leave to the kitchen where you open the blinds mechanically Everything works on its own in this home. You open the fridge and take out some leftover pizza from yesterday. Huh? Pizza for breakfast? What kind of life are you living Y/N? You smile at the pizza and grab the remote for your stereo system. Immediately BTS’s Fake Love fills the room. At least she has taste in music. Then you start to dance with the pizza in your hand. On the side you’re making yourself a cup of coffee. Suddenly Jaehee jumps up onto the kitchen isle and snatches a piece of pizza. You stop dancing and shout loudly. “Jaehee! No! Come back, that’s my pizza!” she jumps off and runs as fast as she is able to.

Then a different frame is shown, a frame where Jangmi runs across the hall Look, i stole my mom's pizza. You stand in kitchen sighing with fake love in the background

The boys laugh loudly as Jangmi snatches the pizza and you yell cutely. How your face frowns looking after your cat like she just ripped a piece of your life out of your hands. The MCs laughing as well, Jaesuk almost falls down on the floor. “Jesus, you eat pizza this early?” You giggle and nod. “Since i don't really have a sleep rhythm anymore i eat anything at any time” Namjoon leans against your shoulder trying to contain his laughter.

Let’s see how Y/N's labelmates morning is going The camera focuses on the kitchen isle where Jin and Taehyung are placed. “Hyung, we have to get going” Jin smiles and agrees. They leave to the hallway over to the rooms of each member. “Namjoon-ah! Wake up” he knocks on the door and within minutes a sleep-crushed Namjoon stands in the hallway. You have to laugh as you see his slightly closed eyes. Suddenly the phone rings and a loud crash is able to be heard. The door to Jungkook's room swings open and he sprints down the hallway to the kitchen “I want to answer! Y/N-noona promised to call by breakfast-time.” Jin laughs and you as well. You can’t hold it in and reach over to Jungkook and pet his shoulder.

A second of waiting and he’s on it to answer the house-phone. “Jeon Jungkook, who’s there?” you giggle and he smiles “Noona!” The others gather around him, partly still asleep. A frame of you two on the phone takes place on the tv “I just wanted to ask if breakfast in an hour is alright” he nods, not taking in that you can’t see it “Of course, where should we meet?” you smile as well. “You wanna come over? We can leave to the company together then” he nods and you smile “Yes, we’ll be over in an hour” you turn around and leave to the bathroom. Then it changes to the boys again. The boys leave to their rooms in a hassle to dress themselves and get themselves presentable.

Then you are shown again as you brush your teeth and your hair. Then you continue with your make-up and that’s something everyone comments on normally. You put on your eye make-up first, a nice pink eyeshadow and a big eyeliner with some lashes. Your base comes as the last step and then you straighten your hair. Mocca peaks her head into the bathroom. Mh, what is mommy doing in the bathroom? She jumps up onto the sink and rubs her head on your tummy while you put your hair into a high ponytail. You smile “Mocca! You want cuddles?” she purrs and you take her into your arms as soon as your are finished.

With the cat in your arms you leave to your dressing room to put on some clothes you can leave the apartment with. Jangmi and Jaehee follow you Why is mommy walking so fast? you open the door and let mocca hop down on the floor.

A high waisted jeans, a crop top and a jeans jacket should be it. A pair of black sunglasses and white sneakers finish the look off and you leave to the door to get something to eat. Jangmi meows loudly as you approach the door Mommy! Don’t leave us alone you smile and give her a kiss on the head before you leave the apartment with a small goodbye.

Your apartment complex normally doesn’t get mobbed so you leave the apartment without security. The sunglasses sit on your nose as the sun kisses it gently and the fresh spring wind brushes through your tied up hair. Cars and buses are able to be heard, people talking and the silent wind in the trees and bushes make you smile. You gotta appreciate the small things.

The cameraman follows you silently and you just bow at him politely. Even here Y/N is showing her best side, where is she going? you take a left turn to the main street and immediately three girls wave at you and you smile. Not to be recognised is nice, yes, but a cameraman following you isn’t the most inconspicuous thing. The bakery is to your right and you open the door as far as for the camera man to step inside first Such a polite move, take notes kids!

The girl behind the counter smiles brightly as you take off your sunglasses. “Good morning, Y/N-Unnie” her sweet smile makes you smile as well and you tell her what you would like to have. She packs it up for you and you pay. “Do you want anything?” you ask the camera man and he rejects nicely. You nod and you leave again. On your way back you stop at the closest bookshop because Namjoon has made you a list with books that are good in his opinion and since you're already outside you will go out of your way and buy them. “Namjoon made me a list with good books so I am going to look if they are available right now” you smile into the camera.

As you take a look at Namjoon he actually looks kinda proud. “Do you often take advices from your juniors?” you nod. “Of course, especially Namjoon. He knows a lot and he helps me willingly with everything.” “We Like helping each other out, Y/N-noona is very good with producing and singing so she spends a lot of time with Yoongi and Jungkook in the studios but she's very very good at dancing as well so she sometimes helps us choreograph our songs” Namjoon praises you. You smile and thank him.

As you step into the bookshop you hold the door for your cameraman open again. The book shop actually isn't as crowded as you expected it to be so you take your sunglasses off. With steady eyes you search for the books Look how concentrated Y/N is! You already have almost all books as a big crash is able to be heard and the camera loses you from the frame and the cameraman falls to the floor.

Huh? Where did we go? You immediately whip around. Suddenly you're in the frame again as you hover over the camera man to help him up. The knight in shining armor Next to the cameraman are three girls with album's in their hands. “Are you okay?” you ask the poor man and he nods “Girls, you have to be more careful.” You softly scold them. “Y/N, OH MY GOD. Could you please sign my album?” you smile slightly and nod after you helped the camera man stand up and flee behind you.

You sign their stuff and take some pictures before you pay your books and leave.

On your way back you stop by a automat and buy a coffee. You stop and hand it to the camera man “I hope you're okay” you smile and he thankfully takes the coffee.

“Wow that was something, you even gifted him a coffee?” Jo Kwon asks in a way of wanting to know the reason. “I felt so bad for him. He ran into the girls who waited for me to finish looking for the books and he fell quite harshly. So I thought a coffee would make it a little bit better” you explain yourself.

The next frame is the boys. “Jungkook! Where is the perfume Y/N bought me last week?” Namjoon shouts through the apartment and you can't contain yourself so you laugh slightly. “I don't know Hyung. Look in the bathroom” he shouts back. Then Taehyung is being shown. He holds a blue jeans jacket with a tiger on the back. “Y/N-noona gifted this to me when we won our first daesung” he smiles into the camera and it warms your heart. He puts it on and grabs a pair of gucci sunglasses. Jimin still stands in front of his big closest not being able to decide what to wear. “I want Y/N-noona to compliment me today” he whispers more to himself than to the camera. He grabs a big colorful sweater and and pair of darker blue jeans.

“Are you all ready? We have half an hour left!” Yoongi shouts from the kitchen just to get some Ois back.

“Did Y/N gift you a lot of things?” Jae Suk asks and they nod unitary. You laugh loudly. “Y/N-noona spoils us whenever she is able to” Hoseok smiles brightly. “But it's not always pricey gifts, she often takes us on vacations or we just spend time together” Jin ads with a big smile.

The next thing is you opening the door to your apartment. Your cameraman stays outside ready to film your leave with the boys. Mocca meows loudly at your arrival Mommy! Welcome back flies across the screen. You're quick to pick her up and kiss her head as you leave to your dressing room. You sit her down on the couch placed inside the room before you take your jacket off and put a big black hoodie on. Then you leave to the kitchen and place plates and cutlery on the big dining table. Then you place some mugs and glasses on the table and the bought food. After that you take out your books. You place them on the kitchen isle as the doorbell rings.

With fast steps you open the door to seven smiling men “Y/N-noona!” Jungkook cheers as he embraces you in a bone crushing hug. “Jungkook-ah!” you smile as you hug him back. You give them some space as you take mocca into your arms. “Jungkook! Would you please go to the table, make sure that Jaehee doesn't snatch something off it?” he nods and leaves immediately. You help the rest after you hand Jimin Mocca with the jackets and stuff. "Jimin-ah, you look handsome today!" you smile and he thanks you with a shy thank you

Then you leave to the kitchen with them. “Coffee?” Jin, Yoongi and Jungkook shoot their hands up. “Really Jungkook? I have some banana milk left” you say smirking as you pour the coffee into the mugs. He smiles sheepishly “Really?” you nod and pour the banana milk into his mug. As you take your seat Namjoon pours you some juice and Hoseok gives you a roll. “Did you hear that we are practicing together today?” Namjoon asks and you nod “We are practicing the mama award performance today. I already spoke with the company and we are going to link our performances together to make it as iconic as possible” you smile. “With a dance break and stuff?” you nod “I thought about singing each others song, a epic dance break and some next level combined show” They smile happily.

“So do you plan the shows yourself now?” Jo Kwon asks curiously. “No not on my own but I put my ideas in a lot. It took very long for my mind to pass their will!” he nods and the show continues.

“Let's get going” They agree and you all get going. Mocca protests with continuous meowing “Mocca, baby. Stop” you hug her tightly as you give her pecks. Don't leave me mommy hovers over her head. Jungkook holds you while you put your shoes on because, what's balance. Jaehee jumps onto your back but Taehyung snatches her off and puts her onto the floor after petting her. “Let's gogo” you smile.

You leave to the parking lot. There you have three cars you regularly use, the others are at your parents place. “Chose” you smile. Jungkook is fast to chose the pretty BMW bus you use to take big things such as dresses and stuff to events but taking friends with you is easier in this one too. You smile and jump into the car. You start the car and drive out of the parking spot without a problem. Before you started the car you linked the car with your spotify. “Play Playlist number 2” you speak to your car and Jungkook looks surprised next to you. She talks with the car! “Playlist number 2 will be played” the car responds and suddenly your favourite bts song magic shop plays. Namjoon groans almost. “Oh come on Joonie it's a great song” you laugh.

You hit the high notes effortlessly as you drive the car elegantly. A real life princess stays written underneath your face as there hovers a animated crown above your head.

You drive into the parking lot of the company. There you park your car and leave with the boys to the practice room. “Good Morning Y/N. Can we start with you today?” Lucas, the choreographer asks and you nod with a smile. “Sure” you put your stuff down as the boys place themselves on the further part of the room to watch. Lucas gives you a mic and you get ready with some stretching. Your limbs crack and you're ready to start. Your character switches and your gaze changes completely. Within seconds you're dancing and singing. Then you're managing the dance break on your own, without backup dancers and the boys are stunned.

“That was great Y/N” you smile A true performer The boys take over with stunned looks. They perform their part with you cheering like a crazy fan. The choreographer shows you some things you would be able to do together.

“For the dance break I thought about some acrobatic elements. Jimin could start off with some Ballet like dance joined by Y/N” you nod with Jimin happily throwing an arm over your shoulder.

Jo Kwon looks at you with wide eyes “You can do Ballet?” you laugh as you nod “I learned it as a kid but I've never perfected it like I did with my current dance style” Jo Kwon nods “I'm so excited!” Jaesuk smiles brightly “I've always liked your dancing”

Lucas takes you and Jimin to the front of the room and shows you what he was thinking of. “So, Y/N, you're going to come up here and Jimin, you from there. When the music starts I want you two to jump at each other and intertwine your arms. Y/N you'll stay on Jimin like this” He shows you the figure he means. You try your best to not hurt Jimin in the process. He looks at you concentrated as you try your best to stay on your foot which is still connected to the floor to take your weight off of Jimin. “You can lean on me” he whispers, without the mics it wouldn't have been able to be heard.

You smile and do as he says. “That's it” Lucas cheers and you clap. “That looks so pretty” Jae Suk smiles and you pat his shoulder smiling.

Two pretty people doing pretty stuff.

“Let's go get lunch!” a staff-unnie announces and you're fast to run off to the door but you don't see the bag laying right in your way so you fall to the floor with a loud thumb. “Y/N!” Lucas rushes to your small form. “Are you okay, noona?” Taehyung asks as he tries to help you up. “I hit my knee” you whisper as Lucas picks you up. And suddenly tears emerge from your eyes. The dam breaks A habit you were never able to get rid off. You cry like..always. Any inconvenience or bit of pain gets you to cry.

You cry in Lucas arms as he carries you to the couch located in the room. “Ah, Y/N. It's fine, you're not hurt badly” Lucas tries his best to calm you. Jungkook makes his way to you, kneeling in front of you. “Noona, look!” he catches your attention and the painful feeling in your chest stills for a moment. drawing the attentions helps! There on his phone is a dog. Just a plain picture of a dog and you love it.

It breaks the crying and you're able to think straight again.

“God, Y/N. You cry so easily” Jae Suk says making you nod mildly embarrassed. “I don't know why, but I cry really easily. When someone yells at me it doesn't even take me a minute to break into tears.” You sigh but Namjoon is fast to wrap his arms around you. “Everybody reacts differently in certain situations. Jimin cries really easily as well, as for Yoongi, he cries rarely. That's diversity” He defends you. You give him a small smile and pat his arm.

The show continues with a small laugh from you. “Feel better yet?” Kook smiles and you nod. Jimin pats your head and you lean into him “Let's get lunch” you nod and get up after Jin hands you a tissue. A staff member offers you a glass of water and you take it with a small thank you. With slow steps you and the boys leave to the cafeteria. Food for the hurt baby sounds good followed by a pacifier edited to your mouth.

“Does it still hurt?” asks the cameraman and you shake your head laughing. “I'm okay, thank you for asking”

As you arrive at the cafeteria, you take a seat next to Jimin and Jin. “What do you want, Y/N-noona?” Jungkook asks waiting for the orders of everyone. “Chicken and a glass of orange juice, please” you answer him and he nods. “So, everything's okay again?” Namjoon asks, sitting across of you. You nod smiling a little “Everything's okay”

“It's so embarrassing to be honest. ugh” you almost laugh. Jae Suk smiles understanding.

“It's not such a big deal, we understand you” Jo Kwon laughs.

Jungkook comes back with the plate and nods at you encouraging you to eat. With a stuffy nose you take a bite of a nugget and the others start talking. You phone vibrates and you take a look trying to sip from your drink at the same time.

Your manager-unnie texted you just now Grab the boys, the try ons for the mama stage outfits is ready up in the second dance practice room!

“We need to go to check our stage outfits” you announce and catch their attention. You grab two more chicken nuggets and leave with them.

Let's have a fashion show started.

And suddenly the end of the episode emerges. Check out bts & y/n trying on their stage outfits and new stuff surrounding their lives. Until then Army & Y/F/N!

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dailyaudiobible · 5 years ago

Text

01/27/2020 DAB Transcript

Exodus 4:1-5:21, Matthew 18:1-20, Psalms 22:19-31, Proverbs 5:15-21

Today is the 27th day of January, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it's wonderful to be here with you today as we come in and find ourselves around the Global Campfire, find ourselves...even though we’re all over the world. Just knowing that we’re not alone. No one ever listens to the Daily Audio Bible alone. Someone somewhere, many someone's, many somewhere’s normally. It…it's always happening. We’re never alone. So, it's great to be here with you now as we take the next step forward in our week and in our adventure through the Scriptures. And we have begun the second book of the Old Testament, the book of Exodus. And we have met a person named Moses and we’ll be traveling through the story of Moses and the rise of the children of Israel for a while now. The children of Israel have thrived and flourished in Egypt after Joseph's death, but they have also been enslaved. And we learned of Moses in the…in the river, in the basket and becoming Pharaoh's daughter and killing an Egyptian and fleeing. And then there's this burning bush that’s not being consumed and God is calling Moses to go back to Egypt, back to Pharaoh and demand…and demand the people's release. So let’s pick up the story. Exodus chapter 4 verse 1 through 25 verse 21 today.

Commentary:

Okay. So, wow, there's so much to talk about you guys. Like every day there's so much to talk about. Let’s talk about the book of Exodus just for a second and let’s touch on the book of Matthew. So, in Exodus we have met Moses. Obviously, the burning bush incident has occurred and we…we witnessed that today and…and God instructed Moses to go back and supplied him with some signs that he could see knowing that he was going back with some actual power of God. And Moses is doing all kinds of backpedaling about why he can't do what he's being asked to do and why he's not qualified to do what he's being asked to do. And…and he's…he’s telling God this who is speaking to him in a burning bush that is not being consumed. It's…it's…it's beautiful to watch God's patience, how He's just having the conversation about all of the concerns that Moses has. And he’s essentially saying like, “I see that you have these concerns, but I will be with you and I am that I am. Like I will be with you. You don't have to fear. You’re not going alone. I'll go with you.” But Moses just keeps backpedaling. “I can't talk. I don't know how to form my words.” All of these things until we reach another one of the really sad, sad scenes in the Bible because here is God and…and we've watched the story unfold right, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, who became Israel who had children, who were the children of Israel, Joseph going to Egypt, the early children of Israel going to Egypt and becoming a massive people while in Egypt over four centuries. There was a promise and Abraham was told all these things were before his progeny. And, so, now God is coming because the people have accumulated and are now ready to leave Egypt so that they can move toward the land of promise, so that the promise can be fulfilled. And, so, God comes and calls this prophetic voice in Moses, “go back. You're gonna lead my people out of Egypt.” And Moses says, “could you send somebody else?” We can certainly put ourselves in the position of Moses and understand that what He’s being asked to do is pretty serious. And yeah, like his concerns are legitimate. Will the people listen to him? Will they pay attention to him? Like he's gotta go back to a nation where he's wanted for murder. Like, he’s being asked to do some big things and so we can easily get into the into the mindset of Moses, but what about the heart of God in this situation? God has heard his people crying out. They have become a people and He has heard their cry and He has come for them and He's being asked to find somebody else. You have to wonder how many times that has happened at critical points in our human story when there was no one else. We have to look at our own lives when we’re feeling the nudge, when we’re feeling the pull, when we’re being swept into something that God seems to be pulling us into. And, you know, always when you get a vision for something, the beginning of the story is always fun. It's a dream, but then when you have to do it, it's not a dream anymore. It's a very, very, very high mountain to climb. So, we could think of how many times God has been asked to send somebody else throughout our history and we can only imagine because if we look at our own lives, we realize that's been us too, that's been our voice to Him too. Thankfully God is patient and perseverant. And Aaron comes, Moses brother, and they do go back, and the people believe them, and they are able to get before Pharaoh and speak the word of the Lord, right? So, like, through it all, at the end of it all Moses obeyed and was given an audience before the Pharaoh of Egypt and he was able to say in the ears of Pharaoh the word of the Lord, “let my people go.” And, of course, Pharaoh’s like, “who’s the Lord?” He didn’t let the people go. Actually, where we leave today's reading, he has withdrawn supplies for them to do their forced labor. And, so, now things have only gotten harder.

Okay. Let’s push pause. Let's look at the story of the Bible so far. We don't have to review every story. But if we look at the arc after…after a word of the Lord, after a promise is given things don't just get easy and just kind of sail downhill into the promise, they get harder and more difficult and then the promise must be contended for and that season of difficulty becomes a refining furnace that purifies. This arc is over and over and over throughout the stories of the Bible. Take for example the story that we just read as we concluded the book of Genesis, the story of Joseph who’s having dreams as a child, but before those dreams are fulfilled he’s trafficked into slavery by his own family, right, falsely accused, thrown into a dungeon. Like, we know the story. It got way more challenging before the outcome became apparent. Joseph was refined and by the time that Pharaoh called him up he was ready to lead. We’re gonna watch the same thing happen to Moses and then at some point we might wonder why in the world it's happening to us, misread the obstacles and challenges, become estranged from God and angry, while missing the point that we were being refined and called up into the next thing for us. This is important context for our lives and it's coming from the Bible.

We move into the book of Matthew and Jesus is asked a question, “who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven”, which is…which is like the exact…like the…the worst question that could be asked based upon what Jesus is teaching about the kingdom. And, so, Jesus uses a child as an illustration by calling a child and saying, “unless you're turned and become like children, you’ll never even enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” We know these kinds of stories. we know Jesus love for children. It's legendary. There's lots of paintings depicting it. Like, we know this, but are we hearing what He's saying, because He's saying once again what He's been saying all along. The world is backward, it's all backward to the ways of God's kingdom. You become the greatest in God's kingdom by not even thinking about that. That's not the goal. Humble yourself like a little child if you want to be great in God's kingdom. I mean, it should be obvious to us how opposite the world is to what Jesus is saying because our cultures are normally about how much we can shine the light on us as individuals. We can't become superstars of God's kingdom and…and…and that the evidence of that be that we’re on the cover of a magazine or have a best-selling book or like…that's not the evidence, the humility of a child in a person, at least according to Jesus, is the evidence. But we live in a culture that…that…that praises and worships individuality, that the accomplishment that one person can do. But this is not the way of God's kingdom. So, one of the last things that Jesus said in our reading today was, “if two of you on earth agree to ask for anything it will be done for them by my father who is in heaven. In fact, where two or three have gathered together in my name, there I am among them.” He didn't say anything about one, which is not to say that God's presence does not exist if you are by yourself. What Jesus is laying out for us and what the apostle Paul will unpack thoroughly for us is that this whole process is not about us getting to be more and more individual and unique and high and mighty and celebrated. It is that we become aware that the separation that existed between us and God no longer exists, which means the separation from each other also no longer exists for those who are in Christ. We are being made one. And Jesus specifically prays for that and Paul gives us useful language, “the body. We are one body.” The objective isn't to be the greatest in God's kingdom. The objective is to be overwhelmed by the fact that we are in it at all.

Prayer:

Father we invite you into all that we've read as we launch into our week here. We…we find that we have asked you to send someone else just like Moses. We’re all guilty of this. It's in us all and we’ve all been less than humble like a child as we've represented you in this world. We have misrepresented you on a number of occasions and even had the audacity to blame you for things that you had nothing to do with. And, so, there's…this kind of stuff comes up a lot because we struggle with these things…this…this is the battle and we thank you for bringing these things up in your word so that we can wrestle with them, so that they won't go away until they're dealt with. And, so, come Holy Spirit, help us to have the humility of a child today. Help us walk around this earth with wonder that we’re here and wonder that there are others like us here and that we bear your image. Help us to be light in the darkness. Help us to be good in a world that is full of evil. Hep us to continue to understand that the journey that we are ultimately on is a journey inward, that you are awakening things in our hearts, that you are awakening our hearts to your presence. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

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Different links to different social media channels and groups are there in the Community section.

The Daily Audio Bible Shop is there with resources for this journey. So, thank you for staying connected.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com as well, there’s a link on the homepage. If you’re using the app, you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address, if you prefer, is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you have a prayer request or comment you can hit the Hotline button in the app, the little red button at the top or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that is all for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

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paulvibe · 6 years ago

Text

Just Friends - Part Two (Paul McCartney x Reader)

Words: 1.9K

Warnings: None

Summary: You and Paul go to dinner

Authors Note: For the purpose of saving ourselves from the mullet phase of the early 70’s Paul, I’m going to put his style circa Let It Be sessions :)

---Edited and updated as of 11/12/19

FRIDAY AT 7:57pm

Nerves fluttered about your stomach. You waited patiently outside of your bakery, continuously checking the small watch that adorned your wrist. The street was mostly quiet, save for a few people walking about. For a Friday, it was surprisingly calm. The sun was beginning to set, leaving the sky a beautiful lilac shade, with a few pink clouds.

Dinner. You were going to get dinner with Paul McCartney. Though you never thought of him as Paul McCartney. To you he was the kid who got his pant leg stuck in his bike chain going full speed down a hill, and broke his arm as a result. He was the kid who accidentally snagged Mrs.Smith's wig off in front of the entire sixth grade class. He was the kid who threw mashed potatoes across the lunch room, hitting Principal Stevens right in his glasses and got away with it. He was just Paul.

However, your heart still acted up after all these years. Stupid feelings and emotions. It was just dinner with an old friend, nothing more was to come of it. I mean, you definitely want your friendship back, however the romantic aspect didn’t seem to be in your reach. He was a superstar, and you? A simple baker.

A black car pulled up in front of your bakery and parked. You swallowed and watched as Paul climbed out of the driver's seat. He looked nice, donning a button up shirt, with a less dramatic sweater- compared to Monday’s- on top. He also wore black pants with a nice pair of loafers. He looked so dashing.

“Right on time.” You spoke, glancing at your watch. Paul chuckled and opened the passenger door.

“This is my second first impression, got to make the most of it.” He spoke with a wink. You climbed into the car, and Paul closed the door. The car smelt new, like it’d never been driven before and it looked nearly spotless; even the floor was clean, no little dirt clumps or pebbles from outside. Paul’s door opened and he climbed. He gave you a delighted look before buckling himself in and pulling away from the curb.

“Reminds me of taking you to dance in your dad’s old cruiser.” The man spoke, gazing at the road ahead. The pink sunset was in the rear mirrors now, but still cast a beautiful lighting to the world.

“We almost crashed... and Tommy Redd spilled beer down my dress.” You laughed at the memory. The look on Tommy’s face was priceless. Paul was angry, and the boy merely stood like a deer in the headlights of a truck.

“My hand hurt for a week after that.” Paul spoke, flexing the fingers of his left hand. You recall seeing Paul’s fist collide right into Tommy’s nose. And the gross crack it made over the sounds of the pub.

“I remember walking home that evening holding your wrapped up hand,” You laughed, turning to face the man better. His gaze was still focused on the road, however you studied the profile of his face, now noticing the age that had taken over the last ten years. He had little wrinkles by his eyes now, still little-- but there. He had more freckles now across his nose bridge and cheeks, and his forehead wrinkles had gotten more prominent. His beard was fluffy and his hair was slightly longer, almost mullet-like.

“I wouldn’t have admitted this back then, but it’s been over ten years now-- I used to fake my hand hurting so you’d take care of me.” The musician spoke, a gentle grin spread across his features.

“I know.” You gave him an endearing look. “It was obvious, you’d play guitar for hours with no issues, then suddenly when I’d come over your hand would hurt.” Paul chuckled at your comment and then shrugged.

“I’m an excellent flirt.” He winked, causing you to blush.

---

Paul had insisted on taking you to this certain restaurant across town. You had never even heard of it, so you didn’t give much of a fuss. Once you had arrived, Paul had the valet park his car and led you into the restaurant. It was lavishly decorated, small tables littered the dining room covered in white tablecloths and little centerpieces with lit candles. A large chandelier was in the center of the room, giving off a warm lighting. You noticed the place was empty, save for the staff.

“Mister McCartney,” A voice spoke, you turned your attention to the sound, your eyes greeting a tall man wearing a suit.

“Mr. Anderson, darling, thank you for the accommodation.” Paul responded, shaking the man's hand. He nodded in return, grabbing two menus and began leading you to a private section of the restaurant. Paul grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together causing a hot blush to cover your cheeks, as you two followed Mr. Anderson. He seated the two of you at a table with only two seats, placing the menus down and nodding at Paul.

“I’ll be back with the wine menu.” He spoke politely, giving a slight bow before walking off. Paul pulled the chair out for you, then pushed you in before seating himself.

“I feel so under dressed.” You murmured with a chuckle. You’d decided to go semi-formal for the evening, wearing a simple dress and flats.

“I think you look lovely.” Paul smiled just as Mr. Anderson returned with the wine list. He placed it on the table giving Paul a moment to look over it before ordering a bottle for the table. The waiter excused himself once again, promising to return with the bottle and glasses. You and Paul sat quietly, looking over the menus. You glanced up from the little booklet in your hand, studying the man across from you. The yellow light from the chandelier and candle added a gentle glow to his being. You felt your heart get heavy, not from being upset, but from feeling content.

Mr. Anderson returned with the bottle of wine Paul had got in a small bucket filled with ice. He popped the cork and poured two glasses before placing the bottle back into the ice and asking if you were ready to order.

“I want to know everything.” Paul spoke softly, sipping his wine. After a twenty minute wait, your food was ready and now sat in front of you. You felt the wine beginning to take effect, as you were on your second glass and your body was becoming less tense. It almost began to feel as though no time had passed at all, and it was still 1961.

“Well,” You began, swallowing a sip from your drink, “After you left, I graduated and moved on to nursing school. I did that for about seven years, if you count my schooling.”

“I never knew you had it in you.” Paul spoke with a smile, taking a bite from his meal. “I’m sure you’ve got some stories.”

“Oh god, tons.” You remarked with a chuckle, “I once had to pull out a little barbie shoe from a grown man's nose. His daughter shoved it up there while he napped.” Your comment earned a chuckle from the man across from you.

“And now you’re a baker?” He asked, giving you a glance.

“Yes, I am. I decided nursing isn’t my thing anymore. I wanted something more domestic, less hours.” You responded, finishing off your second glass of wine. Paul didn’t waste anytime pouring you a fresh glass.

“Have a boyfriend that I need to beat up?” The musician then asked. You couldn't tell if he was serious or just joking, but the comment still made your stomach do flips. Paul had always beat up your childhood ‘boyfriends’. Not too harsh, just a simple punch telling them to treat you right. You know, the guys in middle school that you kiss once and then never talk to again.

“Nope, not at the moment.” You replied, feeling more tipsy now, “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Paul murmured, taking a sip from his glass. Your eyes caught the man’s, noting how dark they were in the dim lighting. His stare added more butterflies to your stomach. You couldn’t tell if you were just tipsy or smitten, but all you wanted to do was jump across the table and kiss him.

---

After dinner, you directed Paul to your small apartment across town. The two of you remained in a comfortable silence while the radio played a rock tune. It was now dark, nearing eleven o’clock. The streets were dead save for a few drunks walking from the pubs. The streelights caused a gentle illumination to combat the dark of night, and reflected off cars parked along the streets.

The fact that Paul was famous still stunned you. Millions of people across the globe adored him, even with The Beatles no longer being a band. You thought about the people who’d kill to be in your position. In the same space, breathing the same air as their celebrity crush.

“How’re your parents?” Paul spoke, interrupting the ambiance, and your thoughts.

“Still trying to control every little thing about me.” You shrugged, looking over at the man. “They-- well, my mother-- thinks my choice to leave nursing was stupid. She believes I should find some guy and marry. I’m twenty-seven and single.” You didn’t mean to unload on the man, but the wine was still affecting you.

“Jesus.” Paul murmured. His hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. He recalls those nights you’d call him from a telephone booth after leaving home because you’d gotten in a fight with your mum.

“Sorry,” You whispered, playing with the hem of your dress. Paul’s hand left the steering wheel and gently laced his fingers with yours.

“Don’t apologize.” He spoke softly, glancing between you and the road ahead. “I’m here for you, darling.” His gentle words gave you fuzzy feelings all over. You fell back into a comfortable silence before you pointed out your apartment. The man pulled over to the curb and parked.

“It was lovely to catch up.” Paul spoke after turning the engine off. His features were softened by the orange street lamp above the car. The street was quiet, save for the crickets that chirped from the grass. You watched as Paul adjusted the way he was sitting to face you better. It felt like high school again. Sitting out late past curfew, talking, dreaming. Paul would always talk about how he wanted to go somewhere with his music. Traveling around with John and George, then Ringo, certainly paid off.

“Yeah, it was,” You nodded in agreement, “I’ve missed you Pauly.” All the years he was gone you didn’t fully want to admit that you missed him. You found it better to suppress those feelings and ignore his face plastered across every media. However, running into him again reignited the flame. Now it felt as though it might burn hotter and brighter than before.

“Can I see you again?” He asked softly. “I mean I’ve got a busy schedule, but I- I do want to see you.” You felt your body warm up and your stomach flutter

“O-of course!” You said a little too enthusiastically, the wine was getting to you still.

“I’ll give ya a ring.” He spoke, his eyes boring into your own.

You gave him a slip of paper with both your home phone, and bakery phone number so he could reach you whenever, then exited the car. You could feel his stare on your back as you entered the flat, but you didn’t dare turn around.

#fanfiction #the beatles fanfic #paul mccartney fanfic #paul mccartney x reader #paul x reader #classic rock fanfic #classic rock fandom

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poppinsx · 5 years ago

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a comprehsive list of the best lyrics in each taylor swift song (my opinions <3) since fearless:

jump then fall: but i’ll hold you through the night until you smile

untouchable: untouchable like a distant diamond sky

come in with the rain: i know you by heart, and you don’t even know where i start

superstar: i’m invisible and everyone knows who you are

other side of the door: and the faded picture of a beautiful night

fearless: you take my hand and drag me head first, fearless

fifteen: when you’re fifteen and your first kiss makes your head spin ‘round (how did she know!!)

love story: i was a scarlet letter

hey stephen: all the other girls, well, they’re beautiful, but would they write a song for you?

white horse: this is a big world, that was a small town

you belong with me: i know your favorite songs and you tell be ‘bout your dreams

breathe: but it’s killing me to see you go after all this time

tell me why: why do you have to make me feel small so you can feel whole inside?

you’re not sorry: and you got your share of secrets and i’m tired of being last to know

the way i loved you: and my heart’s not breaking cause i’m not feeling anything at all

forever & always: were you just kidding?

the best day: don’t know if snow white’s house is near or far away

change: it’s hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair

mine: braced myself for the goodbye ‘cause that’s all i’ve ever known

sparks fly: my mind forgets to remind me, you’re a bad idea

back to december: it turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

speak now: i lose myself in a daydream

dear john: i lived in your chess game but you changed the rules everyday

mean: you have pointed out my flaws again as if i don’t already see them

the story of us: you held your pride like you should’ve held me

never grow up: remember that she’s getting older too

enchanted: my thoughts will echo your name until i see you again

better than revenge: no amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity

innocent: today is never too late to be brand new

haunted: something keeps me holding onto nothing

last kiss: i never planned on you changing your mind // i’ll watch your life in pictures like i used to watch you sleep and i’ll feel you forget me like i used to feel you breathe (this song is too much of a masterpiece to choose)

long live: i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you

state of grace: we learned to live with the pain, mosaic broken hearts

red: moving on from him is impossible when i still see it all in my head

treacherous: i can’t decide if it’s a choice getting swept away

ikywt: and the saddest fear comes creeping in, that you never loved me

all too well: you call me up again just be break me like a promise, so casually cruel in the name of being honest (naturally)

22: it’s miserable and magical

i almost do: i can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye

wanegbt: this is exhausting (hehe)

stay stay stay: you took the time to memorize me

the last time: all roads, they lead me here

holy ground: for the first time, i had something to lose

sad beautiful tragic: you’ve got you demons and darling they all look like me // silence, train runs off its tracks

the lucky one: you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used

everything has changed: all i know is pouring rain

starlight: we could get married, have ten kids, and teach them how to dream

begin again: thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end

welcome to new york: kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats

blank space: stolen kisses, pretty lies

style: could end in burning flames of paradise

out of the woods: the rest of the world was black and white but we were in screaming color

ayhtdws: i’ve been picking up the pieces of the mess you made

shake it off: and to the fella over there with the hella good hair

i wish you would: i wish you knew that i miss you too much to be mad anymore

bad blood: bandaids don’t fix bullet holes

wildest dreams: someday when you leave me i bet these memories follow you around

how you get the girl: i want you for worse or for better

this love: this love left a permanent mark

i know places: love’s a fragile little flame, it could burn out

clean: just because you’re clean don’t mean you don’t miss it

ready for it: burton to this taylor

end game: your handprint’s on my soul

i did something bad: you gotta leave before you get left

don’t blame me: i would fall from grace just to touch your face

delicate: are you ever dreaming of me?

look what you made me do: i’ll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

so it goes: you did a number on me but honestly baby, who’s counting?

gorgeous: whiskey on ice, sunset and vine

getaway car: but with three of us, honey, it’s a sideshow

king of my heart: say you fancy me, not fancy stuff

dancing with our hands tied: i’m the mess that you wanted

dress: even in my worst of times, you could see the best in me

tiwwchnt: feeling so gatsby for that whole year (bonus points for the haha i can’t even say it with a straight face)

call it what you want: i brought a knife to a gun fight

new year’s day: please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh i could recognize anywhere

i forgot that you existed: it isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference

cruel summer: he looks up grinning like a devil (!!)

lover: with every guitar string scar on my hand

the man: they wouldn’t shake their heads and question how much of this i deserve

the archer: i’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you

i think he knows: lyrical smile, indigo eyes

miss americana: american glory faded before me

paper rings: the moon is high like your friends were the night that we first met

cornelia street: that's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

death by a thousand cuts: but if the story’s over, why am i still writing pages?

london boy: don’t threaten me with a good time (also the intro, ofc)

soon you’ll get better: desperate people find faith, so now i pray to Jesus too

false god: you’re the west village

you need to calm down: shade never made anybody less gay!

afterglow: fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

me: i know i never think before i jump

it’s nice to have a friend: you’ve been stressed out lately, yeah, me too

daylight: the luck of the draw only draws the unlucky

(update 1/14/21)

the 1: you know the greatest loves of all time are over now

cardigan: trying to change the ending, peter losing wendy

the last great american dynasty: and in a feud with her neighbor, she stole his dog and dyed it a key-lime green

exile: you never gave a warning sign/i gave so many signs

my tears ricochet: when you can’t sleep at night, you hear my stolen lullabies

mirrorball: the masquerade revelers

seven: please picture me in the weeds before i learned civility

august: you weren’t mine to lose (but also, just the entire song)

this is me trying: you’re a flashback in a film reel

illicit affairs: a dwindling mercurial high

invisible string: one single thread of gold tied me to you

mad woman: it’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together

epiphany: sir, i think he’s bleeding out

betty: i don’t know anything, but i know i miss you

peace: all these people think love’s for show, but i would die for you in secret

hoax: you knew you won so what’s the point of keeping score?

the lakes: i want auroras and sad prose

willow: life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

champagne problems: she would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head

gold rush: at dinner parties i call you out on your contrarian shit

tis the damn season: to leave the warmest bed i’ve ever known

tolerate it: i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it

no body, no crime: good thing his mistress took out a big life insurance policy (honorable mention to the way taylor says “just” in “she thinks i did it but she just can’t prove it)

happiness: i hope she’ll be a beautiful fool

dorothea: you’re a queen selling dreams, selling makeup and magazines

coney island: do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there?

ivy: your touch brought forth an incandescent glow, tarnished but so grand

cowboy like me: forever is the sweetest con

long story short: long story short, i survived

marjorie: you loved the amber skies so much

closure: i’m fine with my spite and my tears and my beers and my candles

evermore: barefoot in the wildest winter

right where you left me: she’s still twenty-three inside her fantasy

it’s time to go: that old familiar body ache that snaps from the same little breaks in your soul

#taylor swift #red #speak now #reputation #1989 #fearless #lover #folklore #evermore #this took me longer than it should have

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antialiasis · 6 years ago

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Hadestown

Whooops I have a new musical obsession, help.

I was actually mostly drawn to this one musically. I heard a cover of “Why We Build the Wall”, found the musical soundtrack on Spotify and listened to the whole thing out of curiosity, and was like “Hey, this is bangin’, I want to listen to this again.”

Hadestown, as a narrative, isn’t really particularly me. It’s a love story (or, more accurately, two love stories of sorts). As you will know if you’ve read any of my blog, I’m not much of a romantic when it comes to fiction, and the love ballad(s) are pretty consistently my least favorite songs in basically every musical; this is no exception.

But there’s something that appeals to me in Hadestown anyway. It’s a very liberal modernized-but-also-not semi-metaphorical reinterpretation of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice (that’s the one with the guy who wants to bring back his dead girlfriend from the underworld, and Hades lets her go with him so long as he doesn’t turn back to look at her on the way; spoilers, he does look back, and she ends up back in the underworld forever). It’s actually doing a vaguely similar kind of thing as Jesus Christ Superstar, which may be part of why I dig it: taking well-known mythology, developing the figures in it as characters and exploring their motivations, existing in and embracing this in-between space where it’s simultaneously about these ancient mythological figures and extravagantly modernized reinterpretations of them, intentionally skirting the line and never quite committing to exactly to what extent it’s literal or metaphorical or something in between.

Here, it’s Greek myth in something vaguely like the Great Depression. Orpheus, a poor musician (who in the lyrics is said to play the lyre, even though on stage he’s clearly playing the guitar), falls in love with a practical, down-to-earth girl named Eurydice. Times are hard and they are poor, and Eurydice is most concerned with food and shelter and basic needs, while Orpheus is devoted only to his art; in “Wedding Song”, she asks where they’re going to get wedding rings or a wedding bed and Orpheus insists that when he finishes the song he’s working on, the rivers and trees and birds will provide what they need. As Eurydice tries to prepare for the winter and storms and further hardship, while Orpheus just sits there working on his song, Eurydice is approached by Hades, a rich industrialist who rules the underworld, Hadestown, where no one goes hungry. He seduces her, or persuades her, or kills her - again, this musical exists in the space between the literal and metaphorical - and she comes with him to Hadestown, where Hades has the inhabitants, or the spirits of the dead, slaving away working to build a wall to keep out the poverty and misery of not having a wall to work on, and Orpheus journeys to get her back with directions from our narrator Hermes.

Intertwined with that story is the story of Hades and Persephone, who were in love a long time ago, but are now bitter and estranged from one another - Persephone (as in the myths) spends the summer months of the year happy above ground, but in the fall Hades comes for her and takes her down to Hadestown, where he’s obsessively building walls and machines and furnaces and electric grids that he wants to impress her but do just the opposite as she despises the heat and the light and the noise: It ain’t right and it ain’t natural. In Hadestown, Persephone runs a speakeasy of sorts, where she sells the miserable inhabitants the sky and moon and stars, or quite possibly they’re all just a metaphor for a lot of liquor and drugs (the word moonshine, of course, sees some use).

I find myself drawn to the story of the latter two here, somewhat predictably, because they are a couple of very fucked-up people in a very fucked-up relationship. Hades is absolutely the villain here, and a pretty chilling one at that: “Why We Build the Wall” is the backwards, rousing anthem of a sort of cult leader enslaving a population of people and persuading them that the wall they’re building will keep them free, and holy god damn can he make his voice terrifying. But there’s this sense of desperation to him as well. One of my favorite songs by now is “Chant II”, where Hades threatens Orpheus with death or imprisonment or some other sinister fate, and rants, practically frothing at the mouth, about women, and how they’re so seasonal (har har), they’ll come and they’ll leave, and you just have to keep them with you by chaining them and weighing them down with riches, and then:

Now I sing a different song One I can depend upon The simple tune, the steady beat The music of machinery Do you hear that heavy metal sound? The symphony of Hadestown And in this symphony of mine Of power chords and power lines Young man, you can strum your lyre, I have strung the world in wire Young man, you can sing your ditty I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY!

And you realize Hades has basically built this entire industrial city because machines are dependable and reliable and he can control them and they won’t leave him every six months. You can sort of see it laid out how once upon a time Hades and Persephone were happy, but as the cracks in their relationship developed, he channeled his fear of losing her into the most toxic possible path, and that’s what’s made him this possessive tyrant obsessed with industrialization and control, effectively just as trapped in this cage of his own making as his citizens. He’s terrible, but you get how he got there, in his awful fucked-up way, and that’s always a thing that I’m into.

In the end, Orpheus and Persephone melt him a little and grant him a bit of self-awareness, and as Orpheus gets his chance to try to save Eurydice, Hades and Persephone also decide to try again - which I hope also involves, y’know, freeing the slaves/souls/literal-metaphor-mixture-something, or at least no longer forcing them to imprison themselves behind a pointless wall, and Hades all in all redeeming himself and becoming a better, more compassionate person again, but given that, I’m actually rooting for them, which is impressive after the literally nearly everything that goes on between them. Persephone wants to try again and she deserves happiness, okay.

Orpheus and Eurydice have a healthier relationship (I mean, Hades and Persephone would be very hard to top), but it’s still fraught with Orpheus’ neglect of their basic needs, and eventually his giving in to his own inner demons as he finds himself unable to trust and believe that she’s truly behind him despite the promises that they made (and to be fair, Eurydice did go and get herself Hadestowned last time he left her alone). “Doubt Comes In” is another one of my belated favorite songs on the soundtrack; it gives such a good musical sense of that creeping dread as his confidence falters and he loses his nerve.

All in all, I just like listening to this soundtrack a lot and I mayyyy be feeling an uncontrollable urge to organize another trip to New York so I can slip in and see this performed help

#hadestown #character analysis #ramble #review #halp #why is it always musicals

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