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2jaeh · 4 years ago

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Bubble ♡︎ | Na Jaemin

Genre : Fluff humor

You’re subscribed to Jaemins bubble, excited just like every other fan to recieve his message for today until his new messages don’t seem like the others.....

-—————————————————————————

“What’s taking so long ?” You stared blankly at the LYSN* app while stretching your legs onto your leather couch.

You switched over to the Twitter app and scrolled through your timeline, briefly reading through whatever was the latest topic on nctzen Twitter. One tweet caught your attention which made you chuckle out loud

Nananotifs: “I’m pretty sure Haechan finally threw Jaemin’s phone out of the dorm window bc.......”

All Nanadoongies gathered on Twitter to complain about the absence of Jaemin especially since he was the only one who hadnt reposted Chenle’s beloved pup Daegal.

You sighed and switched back to the LYSN app and noticed you were able to send one more message to Jaemin before the app blocks you off until he sends a new message.

Y/n: nana I miss you please say something

JAEMIN: y/n did you eat today ? I’ve missed you!

Your eyes widened at the immediate message you received from your ult. Was is coincidental ? Ofcourse it was, they don’t get notifications from fan messages do they ?

You immediately switched over to Twitter already seeing the bubble update account sharing Jaemins new message along with the entire timeline screaming over his activity.

~boominana: “how dare he act so normal I’m gonna cry !!!!”

~jaeminjenos: “post a selfie Jaemin don’t be shy”

~dreamies023: “he’s probably busy guys let him post when he wants to”

The last account was right. Jaemin was probably so busy. It was nice that he still found time out of his schedule to message nctzens and that’s what you loved most about him.

Y/n: Jaemin you’re stressing everyone out on Twitter lol let us know you’re doing ok we love you !

JAEMIN: am I ? :/

Was it a delayed message ? You shook your head and decided it was probably just another glitch on the app.

Y/n: yes stop ghosting us !

JAEMIN: ghosting ? ㅋㅋㅋ so dramatic

You froze. There was absolutely no way that from the tons of messages he would be recieving right now that yours would be the one he read and responded to.

The interaction made your heart race and quickly switch over to Twitter, it was probably chaos right now wondering what Jaemins messages could mean.

Silence.

Everyone on the timeline moved on from Jaemins first message and there were no updates on the messages you had just received from him.

PING!

JAEMIN: y/n ~ are you not going to answer me ? How am I ghosting you :(

This could not be real. You felt a lump in your throat as you checked over your other bubble subscriptions which all seemed fine except for his. You had no idea how to feel or what to do.

Y/N: this is weird. Send me a selfie so I know you’re actually replying to me and not a bot -_-

About 15 minutes went by and you stared at the open chat. He had read your message but there was no reply.

“Humh it was a bot after all” you huffed, about to close the app when your phone pinged and you saw Jaemins name pop up.

A voice note.

“Hey y/n, I hope I’m saying your name correctly hehe So long story short I think the chat glitched and your name and profile pic added itself to my own bubble. Weird right ? Mark Hyung told me I should send a voice note because it will make you believe me a bit more and .....well we would know if you posted on Twitter which CANNOT happen hahaha you understand right ?”

What was happening right now.

You pinched yourself to make sure you didn’t accidentally fall asleep on the couch and start having a very eerie realistic dream.

JAEMIN: I know you’re shocked rn but I really enjoy reading your replies haha it was the best part of my day and well I couldn’t help myself today. I wanted to tease you lol

Y/N: wait so how long has this “glitch” happened for ?

JAEMIN: hmmm....about a month now I think...after you renewed your account I think hehe

Y/N: what ??? Omg I’m so embarrassed......

JAEMIN: there’s nothing to be embarrassed about trust me. I’ve read everything czennies have sent me haha I find it amusing.

You exhaled deeply and scrolled through some of the messages you have sent him during this month and thankfully none of them were cringeworthy.

Y/N: so...now what? Should I speak to app support and fix this....unsubscribe or something....

JAEMIN: LOL youre really funny. Imagine finding out you can speak to someone from your fav idol group and you want to call tech support ...LOL so funny Mark Hyung is laughing

You felt your cheeks heat up at the image of Na Jaemin and Mark Lee laughing at your messages.

JAEMIN: please don’t be embarrassed y/n ! I only did this bc well I have your profile now and you’re really cute.

This was NOT happening.

Y/N: Uh......

JAEMIN: what do you have a boyfriend ? ....

Y/N: no I don’t I’m just....it’s nothing never mind

JAEMIN: LOL so cute! So do you have Kakao ?

Y/N: you want my number ? Why ? .....

JAEMIN: to talk to you obviously! What if they fix the glitch and I’ll never be able to talk to you again..

Jaemin wanted to talk to you. He was trusting you wholeheartedly to add him on his private account. Did he have an idea of the kind of person you were ? How could he possibly risk his career to a nobody ?

Y/N: I do have kakao it’s YN_0023.... Jaemin I won’t say anything but are you sure this is okay ?

JAEMIN: yeah I’ll video call you and we can talk about it ...adding you now. Clear this chat after you get my text!

VIDEOCHAT ?

Is he absolutely insane ? Maybe the voice note was fabricated. Maybe this was some weirdo trying to prey on innocent fangirls. Maybe -

Nana00: heyyyyyyyyy :)

Y/n: hi Uhm is this ...Jaemin ...

Nana00: yup (inserts a pic with your username on a sheet of paper)

Y/n: holy shiiiiit

By now you were already pacing across your entire apartment trying to come to terms with what was going on in your life right now. It became a force of habit to constantly check Twitter and make sure by chance somebody mentioned a glitch of some sort or SM announcing that the app is under construction or SOMETHING.

‘This couldn’t be real’ you thought.

Nana00: lol you’re so funny so are you free to video call ?

Y/n: Uhm......are you sure that’s a good idea ?

Nana00: yeah I mean firstly I would like to know you’re real too lol and also I want to know if I can trust you with this information.....it’ll be quick I promise

Y/n: well....okay give me 10minutes please

Nana00: lol sure :)

After scrambling to your bathroom to make yourself a little presentable as if you just won a video call event for your ult, you finally set on a laidback look so it doesn’t look too obvious that you put a little effort in.

You decided to prop your phone on the mini tripod on your desk so the lighting from your bedroom window in front of you bounced off your skin perfectly.

Y/n: okay I’m ready. I’m a little shy so.....sorry if I can’t talk much...

Nana00: you don’t sound shy when you talk about me on bubble hehe ;)

You buried your face in your hands and groaned. The embarrassment was still eating at you and Jaemin was not letting you live those messages down.

Ring Ring Ring......

You saw your phone light up and Jaemins kakao profile picture fill your screen.

With a shaky finger you press the recieve button and watch as the pixelated video start to clear up, presenting a very smiley Na Jaemin.

“Hi there” he said in his high voice and a bright smile on his face. He seemed to be sitting at his desk as well, hair still wet from either a rainy day or a shower.

“Uhm hi” you replied shyly and waved awkwardly.

“So this is the face behind the bubble profile huh”

“I guess so” you replied. It seemed as though you were calm and collected but on the inside you were screaming. Screaming that you were conversing with one of your favourite people right now.

“Good! Sorry to ask this again but did you clear the chat on bubble ? We have to be careful with that” he said in a concerned voice.

“Yeah I did after you sent the pic I finally realized it was definitely you so I went ahead and did it” you quickly said, kinda embarrassed by how fast your words came out.

Jaemin chuckled.

“You still doubted me after the voice note?”

“Just a little”

“You’re so adorable it’s ridiculous you know that ?” He gleamed and neared the screen, his deep brown eyes focusing on yours “ where are you from y/n?”

“Well I live in a lot of places but my hometown is _______. I learnt most of my korean while studying here in Osaka weird enough” you shrugged.

You moved to Japan for your first year of university since it was where you sort of grew up as a kid and took up extra korean classes once settled in the city.

“Osaka ?? Wow I love Japan I can’t wait to go back! Well now I kinda have an excuse to go” he winked sending your heart into a frenzy.

You giggled shyly “is this the fan service everybody talks about ?

“Fan service is a job....this is different I’m sure you know that y/n haha”

“All of this because of my profile picture ?”

“Well” Jaemin bit down on his lip as his eyebrows turned into a frown

“I obviously saw your pic and thought you were very cute but a big part of it was your messages and how you would always message me when I most needed it.”

“My messages are very random” you chuckled.

“Still made me smile throughout my day and that means a lot” he said and ran his fingers through his hair “so it’s kinda selfish of me to say, but id like for you to update me...personally”

“Na Jaemin are you asking me to be your own personal bubble account ?” You raised your eyebrow.

“Yeah pretty much” he shrugged “I’ll repay the subscription when I see you Osaka.”

#Jaemin au #Nct fanfic #nct dream #na jaemin #NCT fluff #NCT scenario #Jaemin fluff #Dreamies #nct dream imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #nct #nct x reader

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snarktheater · 4 years ago

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Ready Player Two — Opening Cutscene & Chapter 0

Hello again.

It’s been a while. I haven’t been active on this blog since, fittingly enough, Ready Player One. I was going to do this sooner—even had an alarm set up and everything—but then, it turns out, I’m feeling so much negativity about the world in general that a book just pales in comparison.

Seriously, I had to scrap this post’s entire intro because it’s not even 2020 anymore as I write this. And you know, maybe that’s for the best. I’m not really in the mood for doom and gloom and bitching anymore. I uninstalled Twitter from my phone a while back, I’ve been doing good at my daily writing sprints, my biggest fanfic project concluded on a positive note from people I didn’t even realize had been following it for years.

So I don’t know what this is going to be like. My commentary, I mean; I’ve heard echoes of what the book is like, so I’m not expecting a surprise there.

The book opens right after the end of Ready Player One, in a “Cutscene” where Wade recounts to us what happened after he won Halliday’s contest. It also assumes you remember exactly who the main characters of the book are, which is a bold move for a sequel that came out almost a decade after the original.

Technically, I could just look up the details I’m fuzzy about. But also, I think it’s more authentic if I don’t. I trust my memory enough that if I’m wrong, it’ll be in subtle enough ways that it’ll almost be a private jokes between all of us. An “if you know, you know” sort of error system. And I don’t think there’s anything more true to the spirit of this book than that.

Shoto had flown back home to Japan to take over operations at GSS’s Hokkaido division.

So Wade starts his tenure with nepotism. Wasn’t Shoto really young? Why is he qualified to run anything?

Aech was enjoying an extended vacation in Senegal, a country she’d dreamed of visiting her whole life, because her ancestors had come from there.

You know what, I’m not touching “send the token black character back to Africa.” This isn’t my lane.

And Samantha had flown back to Vancouver to pack up her belongings and say goodbye to her grandmother, Evelyn.

Why is she saying goodbye? Why, she’s moving to Columbus to be with Wade, of course! It’s not like there was anything else in her life. Was there? And why isn’t she referred to as Art3mis? I’m pretty sure Wade found out all of their offline names in the last book, and the inconsistency mildly bothers me.

These three sentences are back to back, by the way. Someone—I forget who—once described Ready Player One as a book that’s fun to write a wiki about, because it’s got fun concepts to summarize about until you realize that all the emotional connective tissue you need to turn a list of things into a story is missing, and that’s roughly how this first page feels.

Hell, the first line of the book is Wade telling us he remained offline for nine whole days after winning the contest, but by the end of the second paragraph we’re already to him logging back into the OASIS to "distract himself from [his and Samantha’s] reunion.

I’ll give Ernest Cline one thing: it feels like he wrote this opening nine days after the first book and did about as much maturing as a teenage boy would do between the two books.

Way more time is spent describing Wade’s OASIS rig, or the in-game planet where the climax of the last book happened, than anything else in this introduction. He is immediately greeted by a crowd of adoring fans who have been waiting over a week for him to come back in the game, because they’re all grateful that our protagonist and his friends restored their avatars after they were annihilated by the Sixers.

You’d think the adoring fans would serve some kind of purpose, or that something would happen, but no. Wade immediately goes “ew, people” and teleports away, since he essentially has ultimate powers within the game. With a caveat: the powers are actually coming from the Robes of Anorak he’s wearing, and I’m mentioning that in the hopes that it will pay off sometime in the book’s future, assuming Cline at least learned to do that. But still, let’s not skip too fast the fact that we introduced that crowd of adoring fans for no other purpose than to tell us they’re out there, because it fits right in with the last book’s attempts at saying as little as humanly possible in as many words as possible.

Anyway, Wade went back into Anorak’s study, where he arbitrarily checks out the Easter Egg he got at the end of the last book, and finds an inscription on it. I was dreading another riddle, but no, it’s just straight-up instructions to a vault in the GSS archives, so Wade logs off and goes to check it out.

Of course Halliday had put [the archives] [on the 13th floor]. In one of his favorite TV shows, Max Headroom, Network 23’s hidden research-and-development lab was located on the thirteenth floor. And The Thirteenth Floor was also the title of an old sci-fi film about virtual reality, released in 1999, right on the heels of both The Matrix and eXistenZ.

I’m equally shocked that it took two whole pages (on my ereader) to get to the first slew of references, and that one of these references is from 1999. I didn’t know we were allowed to think of anything that isn’t the 80s. Speaking of which, I’ll spare you the whole paragraph, but the book does feel the need to explain why it’s vault 42.

Inside the vault, there’s another egg containing a super-fancy and advanced OASIS headset. The egg also has a video monitor that plays a video message from James Halliday shortly before his death.

But despite his condition, he hadn’t used his OASIS avatar to record this message like he had with Anorak’s Invitation. For some reason, he’d chosen to appear in the flesh this time, under the brutal, unforgiving light of reality.

That oh-so-important message? An infodump about the headset’s working. He called it an OASIS Neural Interface, ONI for short. It basically lets you experience the OASIS through all your senses with sensory input just like the real thing, you know, that thing Wade had to get a fancy suit and massive rig to do in the first book. And yes, Wade does spend a paragraph or two comparing it to other works of science fiction. Of course he does.

More importantly, it also records all the sensory input into a separate file, which can then be replayed over to re-experience said sensations, or live someone else’s experiences. Halliday tries to frame it as a tool to generate communication and empathy, seemingly all without acknowledging the potential creepiness of that. But hey. Who knows. Maybe that’s because this is the setup stage, and it’ll pay off eventually.

I also wondered about the name Halliday had chosen for his invention. I’d seen enough anime to know that oni was also a Japanese word for a giant horned demon from the pits of hell.

Add “reducing Japan to anime” to the list of things the book has failed to improve upon. By the way, the narration insisted on spelling out ONI letter by letter earlier, so it’s weird to make that link now. It’s also just kind of inelegant to just tell us “this is the symbolism behind the name”, but that’s just the sort of thing I’ve come to expect from this book.

Anyway, the reason Halliday kept this for his successor to find is he wants Wade to test out the technology and decide if humanity is ready for it. Why Halliday thinks the most glorified pop culture trivia / video game competition qualifies you for such a decision should be a problem, but sadly, a lot of billionaires have said and done a lot of dumb and eerily similar things in the past few years since I read Ready Player One, so actually, I can’t fault the book for that one. Tragically, our fates really are in the hands of people who should rightfully be cartoon villains.

To his credit, Wade does question Halliday’s motives in keeping this under wraps at all rather than releasing it himself. So hey, maybe it really is setting something up.

Wade goes back to his office with the ONI, and we’re treated with this lovely piece of narration:

I was grateful that Samantha wasn’t there. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to talk me out of testing the ONI. Because I was worried she might try to, and if she did, she would’ve succeeded. (I’d recently discovered that when you’re madly in love with someone they can persuade you to do pretty much anything.)

There’s a lot to unpack about the implications this has for their relationship, but it’s way too early in the book for me to editorialize when one character hasn’t even been on the page yet. So I’ll just leave it here for the record. Hopefully you see the problem without me needing to point it out anyway. If not, feel free to hit my inbox.

So Wade, confident in the fact that Halliday would have warned him if there were any risks to using the ONI, decides to try it out. Even though he immediately follows up that statement with this:

According to the ONI documentation, forcibly removing the headset while it was in operation could severely damage the wearer’s brain and/or leave them in a permanent coma. So the titanium-reinforced safety bands made certain this couldn’t happen. I found this little detail comforting instead of unsettling. Riding in an automobile was risky, too, if you didn’t wear your seatbelt…

Wade. My dude. What the fuck is this simile. And why don’t you see that maybe a machine where you’re forcibly trapping yourself inside a virtual reality might be dangerous? Hell, when I said this was setting something up, I was expecting something vaguely interesting about the potential breach of privacy, or how you don’t need to literally walk in someone’s shoes to feel empathy for them, or anything substantial, but now I’m worried it’ll just end up as “man, sometimes science fiction machines will scramble your brain, isn’t that weird”?

Like, I don’t know, to me “it will put you in a coma” sounds like a good reason for Halliday not to release the ONI. Maybe we can still make it into a commentary on how corporations will sell stuff they know is directly harmful if it can make them a profit. Who knows.

The book waffles on about more risks, and the mechanics of how the ONI activates, and the warning disclaimer when it does turn on. Specifically, there’s a time limit of twelve consecutive hours, after which you’ll be automatically logged out, because yes, using the thing for too long can also cause brain damage.

Gregarious Simulation Systems will not be held responsible for any injuries caused by improper use of the OASIS Neural Interface.

See, now there’s the sort of thing that could be a source for commentary, but no, instead it’s thrown in there like it’s nothing and Wade glosses over the entire warning, and instead keep wondering why Halliday didn’t just release the ONI if even the safety disclaimers were in place.

By the way: this whole system has apparently gone through several independent human trials already, so I’m finding it hard to imagine that it’s actually a secret Halliday took to the grave as Wade says. Unless he also had everyone involved in those trials killed afterwards. Or maybe they all ended up with brain damage which rendered them incapable of talking about it.

And before you think I’m being unfair and maybe we’re supposed to understand that ourselves even if the protagonist doesn’t, I’ll remind you that the book didn’t trust its reader to know what the number 42 is a reference to, or what an oni is, even though I don’t think anyone in the target audience wouldn’t know about these two things.

There’s also the fact that, since this book came out, a video game did release with a scene intentionally designed to cause seizures, and it had countless fans flocking to defend it over that fact. So you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not assuming this book’s stance on whether your video game console causes brain damage and possibly coma is actually a bad thing, or just an acceptable risk.

Wade certainly seems to think so, since he agrees to the terms of service.

As the timestamp faded away, it was replaced by a short message, just three words long—the last thing I would see before I left the real world and entered the virtual one. But they weren’t the three words I was used to seeing. I—like every other ONI user to come—was greeted by a new message Halliday had created, to welcome those visitors who had adopted his new technology: READY PLAYER TWO

Well now that’s just silly.

And that’s our opening cutscene. And while this post is already long enough, I feel like I have to go on to chapter 0, because it feels like barely anything has happened so far. We didn’t even introduce any new character motivation or conflict, or a mystery to set the plot into motion, unless I’m supposed to think “why didn’t Halliday release this?” counts.

So Wade is back into the OASIS, and tells us about how much more real it all feels thanks to the ONI. I especially have to question how he can smell or taste anything—both of which he tells us he can. Like, who coded that? Did Halliday implement every single smell and taste himself, without anyone noticing? I hope you don’t need me to tell you that’s not typically how features are added to a large-scale video game.

If it feels like I’m nitpicking at the logic of the book, even though I always say I’m not very interested in that and would rather talk themes, it’s because I am, because there isn’t much else to discuss so far. Wade is happy about tasting virtual fruit. That’s the scene.

He tests out if he can feel pain, but no, the ONI reduces pain (a gunshot is translated as “a hard pinch”). On one hand, good, it would be a nightmare otherwise. On the other hand, I sort of hope there’s a setting for that in there, because otherwise, you just lost an entire clientele of kinksters.

This was it—the final, inevitable step in the evolution of videogames and virtual reality. The simulation had now become indistinguishable from real life.

Ah, now we have some juicy themes. Because if you think this is the inevitable final step in the evolution of video games, I invite you to look at literally any other art form, and what happened to them once hyperrealism became easy. Hint: they didn’t stop evolving, because it turns out realism isn’t the only goal one can achieve with art.

The realism discussion is not a new one in video games, mind you. In case you’re out of the loop: most of the big-budget blockbuster games (“AAA” as they’re known) are aiming for hyperrealism nowadays, and it results in development teams being forced to work in horrible conditions (known with the equally horrible euphemism of “crunch”). And, because it turns out that 1) humans working themselves to the bones isn’t healthy and 2) racing for realism with little to no vision besides it makes for poor creativity, a lot of these games come out as disappointments. Oh, there are hordes of Gamers™ who will defend them to the bitter end, but inevitably, in the months following release, the defense cools off while the criticism keeps on going, because the defense was a knee-jerk reaction born of a mix of people hyping themselves up for a game they hadn’t seen that much of yet, then attaching a part of their identity to liking that thing.

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that this throwaway line feels like it comes from someone who is so out of touch as to accidentally support a world view that has in fact resulted in the biggest part of the industry stagnating artistically while growing more toxic for the people working in it. All the while, more and more independent games come out every year, proving that that realism is nowhere near the most important thing to making a game good, and that you can achieve much better results with a small team.

What I’m trying to say is: watch Jim Sterling’s channel, they’ve been bleeding out subscribers since they came out as nonbinary and make much better commentary on this topic than I could, and play Hades.

Back to the book, which sadly hasn’t become any more interesting since I decided to go on a tangent. Wade tests the ONI functions some more, all the while musing on how he knows Samantha would disapprove but that he doesn’t care, because what loving relationship doesn’t consist of that?

Among the functions, he tries the ONI files, the aforementioned recordings of someone else’s experiences. Specifically, a woman, which Wade tells us by telling us he suddenly has breasts, I suppose because Ernest Cline saw that subreddit about men writing women and went “I want a piece of that”. Oh, and also, those sample files were recorded from real people, in the real world. And yes, this goes exactly where you think it does.

SEX-M-F.oni, SEX-F-F.oni, and SEX-Nonbinary.oni

Look, I actually started writing a complaint about the boobs thing, and I deleted it, but now Cline is doing it on purpose. So, here goes: I saw a quote from this book on Twitter that looked like Cline attempting to make up for Wade’s casual transphobia in the first book. It wasn’t good, but it at least sounded like he was trying. So to immediately get this is…a lot? Let’s go for a lot.

I can almost excuse the use of “M” and “F”. You gotta name your files and you could excuse a non-exhaustive list. But…nonbinary? On one hand, I want to know what Cline means. On the other hand, I don’t think he can come up with an answer I’ll find satisfactory.

We are thankfully spared from finding out because Wade has just lost his virginity to Samantha a few days ago and he’s 1) not ready for this and 2) pretty sure this counts as cheating. You could make a case that this is more like porn, but I can see that this is more of a personal distinction anyway, and I can respect that one. Plus, you know. I don’t want to find out.

Wade logs off, and he can’t tell the difference between the OASIS with the ONI, and decides this will change the world. And then it’s back to the “how did he do it and keep it a secret”, even though Wade now finds out in the documentation that this had been in development for twenty-five years, basically since the OASIS launched. So it’s not really that it’s a secret, so much as there are a lot of people under very strict NDAs out there. Or, again, they’re all dead and/or otherwise incapacitated.

The ONI is the product of the Accessibility Research Lab, and Wade tells us about other stuff that the lab has produced using similar technology, mostly for medical purposes.

GSS patented each of the Accessibility Research Lab’s inventions, but Halliday never made any effort to profit from them. Instead, he set up a program to give these neuroprosthetic implants away, to any OASIS users who could benefit from them. GSS even subsidized the cost of their implant surgery.

Look, it’s nice that you want Halliday to be the good guy through and through, but it’s kind of hard to take any social commentary seriously when you think this is how a billionaire is made. Hell, even when he shut down the lab and fired its entire staff, he gave them a big enough severance package to set them for life. You know. Capitalism!

Hey, remember when Samantha said she was going to end world hunger if she won the contest, a thing billionaires right now could be doing, but aren’t, and she is now the co-owner of GSS? Yeah, I kind of hope the book remembers that too.

Speaking of the co-owners, the book just completely skips over the debate that our four main characters have over whether or not to release the ONI to the world. All we know is that they voted, and the vote goes in favor of releasing it. I mean, why have characters who could have opinions and feelings that could create a discussion? That might make us care about them! And who wants to care about characters in a story?

We put them on sale at the lowest possible price, to make sure as many people as possible could experience the OASIS Neural Interface for themselves.

What exactly is “the lowest possible price” here? Your company literally owns money. Like, OASIS money is real money. There is literally nothing stopping you from giving them away, especially because what you’re giving away is access to the platform you’re already running for a profit.

It’s almost like, even trying to make “good billionaires” out of its protagonists, the book can’t stop and actually make them significantly good.

Oh, I should mention. If you thought my Ready Player One review was angry at capitalism, wait until you see what the past couple years have done to me.

Anyway, once they his 7,777,777 simultaneous ONI users, a new riddle shows up on Halliday’s website. Because yep: our plot is apparently not about the implications of releasing the ONI, or any of the potential ideological discussions associated with that, it’s another riddle. Oh boy, do I wish I’d known that.

Seek the Seven Shards of the Siren’s Soul On the seven worlds where the Siren once played a role For each fragment my heir must pay a toll To once again make the Siren whole

I cannot wait to have the book give me just not enough information to solve the riddle until it’s solved by the book itself. That was so much fun the other…what was it, five times? Six times? Something like that. Wade already tells us the Siren might be Kira Morrow, because her alias was named after one of the sirens of Greek myth, so I can’t wait for that plot point to stick around. It was so fun to hear all about this man pining for another man’s wife the first time!

So this is the “Shard Riddle”. People are apparently convinced it was made by Wade and his crew as a publicity stunt, but of course, they know that that isn’t the case, and they also don’t know what that riddle is supposed to lead to. So, that’s great. We have a puzzle, and we also don’t know what the stakes are. All we know is that Wade wants to solve the puzzle essentially because it’s a challenge.

We skip over a year, and Wade tells us about how IOI collapses and gets absorbed by GSS because of the ONI’s launch. Remember IOI? They were the bad guys, so I guess we have to cheer?

GSS absorbed IOI and all of its assets, transforming us into an unstoppable megacorporation with a global monopoly on the world’s most popular entertainment, education, and communications platform.To celebrate, we released all of IOI’s indentured servants and forgave their outstanding debts.

On one hand: good for the slave. On the other hand: not gonna cheer for a monopoly, you guys.

Another year’s skip, and now 99% of the OASIS users are using the ONI, and yes, that includes trading their experiences with one another too. And I guess we’re still hand-waving any possible problems associated with that technology, because the technology is made so that all recordings must be shared and played through the OASIS.

This allowed us to weed out unsavory or illegal recordings before they could be shared with other users.

How? Do you know any of the problems associated with content moderations on the current platforms? I don’t know if I want to point to Youtube’s extremely faulty algorithm, Twitter’s complete apathy towards its Nazis, or Facebook doing moderation by making underpaid staff watch all potentially problematic content, which resulted in serious psychological damage to said staff.

You can’t just say that as if it solved everything. The chapter later says this is handled by an AI called “CenSoft”, and as an AI engineer myself, let me tell you: this is not going to work. Again: Youtube is the way it is for a reason.

It also let us maintain our monopoly on what was rapidly becoming the most popular form of entertainment in the history of the world.

And again, monopolies are totally a good thing as long as it’s in the right hands!

When I’m implying that the book does not care for any of these potential problems, I mean it. These enormous ethical issues are sidestepped in cold narratin, and we just keep going on introducing new slang that I hate, but have to quote so help you keep up.

“Sims” were recordings made inside the OASIS, and “Recs” were ONI recordings made in reality. Except that most kids no longer referred to it as “reality.” They called it “the Earl.” (A term derived from the initialism IRL.) And “Ito” was slang for “in the OASIS.” So Recs were recorded in the Earl, and Sims were created Ito.

There. You have been infodumped.

In the midst of all this (still extremely dry) exposition about how this changed media, we also get this tidbit:

You could take any drug, eat any kind of food, and have any kind of sex, without worrying about addiction, calories, or consequences.

Now, I was going to rant about this, but then, a page later, this happens and spares me the trouble:

I’d struggled with OASIS addiction before the ONI was released. Now logging on to the simulation was like mainlining some sort of chemically engineered superheroin.

So, you are aware that addiction isn’t just possible, but extremely facilitated by this. But sure, no worries! It’s perfectly safe! Because our protagonists are good.

Also, remember how the last book ended on a weak attempt at having a moral that maybe the real world is good, actually? Yeah, Wade tells us the ONI helps poor people live enjoyable lives in the OASIS. So. Fuck that message, I guess. It only applies if you’re the literal wealthiest man on Earth.

And me? All my dreams had come true. I’d gotten stupidly rich and absurdly famous. I’d fallen in love with my dream girl and she had fallen in love with me. Surely I was happy, right? Not so much, as this account will show.

Aside from the aforementioned returning OASIS affiction, there’s the Shard riddle that Wade is now obsessed with, to the point of offering a billion-dollar reward to anyone with information about the riddle’s answer.

I announced this reward with a stylized short film that I modeled after Anorak’s Invitation. I hoped it would seem like a lighthearted play on Halliday’s contest instead of a desperate cry for help. It seemed to work.

On one hand: good, Wade finally has a character flaw that the book actually acknowledges as a character flaw. I can work with that. On the other hand: this is all told to me in such a dispassionate that I am dreading how the book will handle this character flaw. Which is to say, I’m not expecting it to be very good.

(For a brief time, some of the younger, more idealistic shard hunters referred to themselves as “shunters” to differentiate themselves from their elder counterparts. But when everyone began to call them “sharters” instead, they changed their minds and started to call themselves gunters too. The moniker still fit. The Seven Shards were Easter eggs hidden by Halliday, and we were all hunting for them.)

Especially when this is something the narration feels is more important to tell me about.

Anyway, skip another year, and a gunter finally leads Wade to the First Shard. Solved that riddle, I guess. And wait, wasn’t part of why IOI was ~evil~ in the first book that they were paying people to find the Easter Egg for them? How is this any different, Wade?

And when I picked it up, I set in motion a series of events that would drastically alter the fate of the human race. As one of the only eyewitnesses to these historic events, I feel obligated to give my own written account of what occurred. So that future generations—if there are any—will have all the facts at their disposal when they decide how to judge my actions.

And that is the end of our chapter 0. And can I just say: what a mess already. I don’t think my snark can properly convey how utterly devoid of emotion this book’s writing is, and that alone is honestly more of a turn-off than anything else in the book so far. Even, knowing that I railed about it in the first book, I still feel newly unprepared for it. And it’s not like this double-prologue is making me hopeful that the book will show an ounce more critical thinking—or decent fucking humanity towards marginalized groups—as its predecessor.

So, that’s a lot to look forward to! For the sake of my sanity and schedule, don’t expect me to do such big posts every time. I’ll probably do one chapter a week from now on, if that. We’re in for a long ride, but I hope it’s worth it, at least.

#ready player two #ernest cline #st: ready player two #book reviews

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clumsyclifford · 4 years ago

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i won’t forget you (but i may forget your name)

this is unforgivably stupid and entirely the fault of @reveriesofawriter who pointed out that because duke’s name was originally luke, if calum hadn’t changed his name, luke would’ve had to have been known as human luke. i have no explanation other than that. this is a gen fic i didn’t proofread it at all and all you need to know is that duke’s name is never changed to duke. the name luke is in this fic an obscene amount of times

i’m also so fucking sorry for giving this an actual title i really was just going to call it human luke but then i remembered this lyric from i’m ready by ajr so instead it’s being called that

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO: the human luke fic aka five times someone called luke human luke and one time he did it to himself

read it here on ao3

“What’s his name?” Luke asks.

Calum smirks. “Luke.”

“What?”

“His name.”

“Yeah, that’s what I asked you for, dipshit.”

“And I’m telling you, dipshit, his name is Luke.”

Luke stares through the phone screen. “No it’s not.”

“It is.”

“But you’re going to change it, right? You’re not going to keep a dog named Luke when you already have a best friend named Luke?”

“Quick to assume you’re my best friend,” Calum says airily. “Not very fair to Michael, I’ve known him longer.”

“You’re going to rename the dog, right?” Luke repeats emphatically.

Calum scrunches up his face. “But he looks like a Luke, Luke! It’s the perfect name for him.”

“We are in a band together!” Luke says, feeling vaguely hysterical and also kind of like this is some kind of fever dream, or possibly nightmare. “You see me every single day! You can’t just have a dog named Luke! You could rename him so easily!”

“But it’s about the vibes,” Calum says.

“Change the dog’s name, bro.”

“No, bro. The dog is Luke. You’ll just have to be Human Luke.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Luke says. “Under no circumstances are you calling me Human Luke. I was here first. The dog can be Dog Luke.”

“He’s already used to the name Luke, though,” Calum says, glancing off-screen at something. His features immediately soften, and he shifts for a moment, then sets his phone down. Luke frowns. When Calum’s face returns, it’s accompanied by a dog’s face.

Luke hates the dog on instinct, but he has to admit this soon-to-be-renamed Luke is super cute. His tiny snout takes up most of the screen, white with a black streak that climbs up onto his black head. He has a little beard, or whatever, tan fluff under his little cheeks and chin. Luke forces himself not to awww. This dog is causing problems.

“I’m already used to the name Luke,” Luke says, ignoring the way Calum is cooing over Dog Luke and kissing his adorable face.

“Yes, but it’s much easier to make you understand that you’re Human Luke than to make him have to learn a whole new name. Look at this face, Luke.” Calum brings the camera closer to Dog Luke’s snout. The dog’s deep black eyes stare innocently into it. “Just look at him. You wouldn’t deny this face his name, would you?”

“Easily,” Luke grumbles. “Easily I would. I am not being Human Luke.”

Calum gives him a look of sympathy. “Sorry, mate.”

Luke is not being Human Luke.

“So I went over to Calum’s house,” Ashton explains, “and Luke was just sat in the kitchen, and I was like, when the hell did you get a tiny dog?”

Everyone laughs, except Luke, who had momentarily zoned out only to be pulled back in by being mentioned by name. And they’re not even talking about him.

“Not Human Luke,” Calum adds, giggling. “My dog, Luke.”

“That must get confusing,” Elvis Duran says. “Having a dog named Luke and also a bandmate.”

“Yeah, you would think, wouldn’t you?” Luke puts in, shooting a glare to Calum, who’s decidedly ignoring him. “You would think maybe if you were in a band with a bloke called Luke you wouldn’t get a dog with the same name?”

Elvis chuckles, although Luke really hadn’t been joking. “So how do you guys tell them apart?” he asks, which is kind of rude. It’s not like Luke and Dog Luke look alike. “Or do you guys just say Luke and go with whichever one answers first?”

“Oh, we call Human Luke, well, Human Luke,” Ashton says, grinning at Luke’s put out expression. “He’s not a fan.”

“I maintain that I was here first!” Luke insists, as the entire studio breaks into laughs.

“Human Luke seems like it would work,” Elvis agrees.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Luke says warningly. He says it like he’s joking so that he doesn’t get in trouble, but Elvis is grinning. “Yeah, the boys have begun their efforts to force me out of the band by bullying, but I won’t go down easy.”

“I don’t know,” Michael says thoughtfully. “He really doesn’t like being called Human Luke.”

“I’m the original Luke!”

Nobody will stop laughing long enough to let Luke defend himself any longer, and the interview moves on.

Calum posts a picture of Luke and Dog Luke on Instagram. Luke gets no warning, hadn’t even known about the existence of the photo. It’s a really cute picture, a candid taken from earlier in the week, when Luke had come over to Calum’s place and they’d had a swim together. The photo shows Luke cradling Dog Luke, standing waist-deep in the pool, nose buried in Dog Luke’s neck.

The caption reads: Luke and Human Luke, my two best friends <3 #cake.

Luke is going to kill Calum.

“You can’t just call me Human Luke!” Luke says when they’re in the studio later in the day. Calum smirks and says nothing.

“Move on,” Michael calls from the other end of the table, where he and Ashton have been plotting, heads together. “You’re already Human Luke. You can’t escape it. You may as well own it.”

“Never,” Luke says. “I’ll fight this until my dying day. And you,” he jabs a finger at Calum, “are the worst friend ever.”

“I called you my best friend!” Calum protests.

“If I was your best friend, you’d have changed your fucking dog’s name.”

“Think of it like this,” Calum says, placatingly. Luke already senses he won’t like what Calum is about to say. “You’re called Luke, and you’re cute. And he’s cute, so it makes sense to call him Luke.”

“But he,” Luke points out, forcefully, “is a dog.”

Calum shakes his head, like Luke’s entirely missing the point. From the other end of the table, Michael snorts. “Can you take the compliment, please? I’m making the best of a bad situation.”

“You’re living for this,” Luke accuses. “You fucking love this. You all love calling me Human Luke. Sadists, all of you. I’m getting a new band.”

“Good luck finding anyone else who will put up with you as much as we do,” Michael says. “We’ve been in the studio for an hour and all you’ll talk about is being called Human Luke.”

“Maybe you should write a song about it,” Ashton suggests. “Get your frustrations out.”

“Or you could just accept it,” Calum offers, slinging an arm over Luke’s shoulders. “It gives you character. Luke wishes he could have as much character as Human Luke has.”

“Worst friend on the planet,” Luke repeats.

Ashton FaceTimes while Luke is making dinner with Jack — not his decision, but Jack’s, determined that Luke learn to make at least something for himself, never mind that he can make scrambled eggs just fine, kind of, thank you very much — but they’ve just put the lasagna in the oven, so Luke picks up.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Ashton says, beaming. When Jack appears beside Luke, Ashton adds, “Jack, man, what’s up!”

“Just teaching this guy to cook,” Jack says good-naturedly. Luke passes his phone off to Jack so they can chat. “How are you, man? It’s been a minute.”

“I’m good,” Ashton says, grinning wide. “I’m good, yeah. Spent some time today with Luke and Calum, tried to get some writing done but Luke wouldn’t stop, like, trying to climb onto the couch and walking all over the pages and stuff. Eventually we just gave up and played with him.”

Jack’s face goes through several stages of confusion. “Uh, what?”

“Oh, obviously not Human Luke,” Ashton says, and Luke glances at Jack and sees sheer glee building itself on his face. “Calum’s dog, Luke.”

“Calum got a dog,” Jack repeats, a slow smile stretching the corners of his mouth out, “and named it Luke, and now my brother is Human Luke?”

“The dog was already called Luke,” Luke grumbles. “And don’t get any fucking ideas, you arse. If you call me Human Luke even once I will put all of your worst secrets on the internet.” He glares at Ashton. “See what you’ve done?”

Ashton doesn’t look even slightly regretful. “I can’t believe you don’t know about Luke,” he says to Jack. “He’s basically the only thing on Calum’s Instagram these days.”

“I don’t go on Instagram a lot,” Jack says. “You really call Luke Human Luke?”

“Enough of this!” Luke says loudly, wrenching his phone out of Jack’s hands. “I’m going to go catch up with Ashton, and you can call me when you need me to, like, whatever you need from me.”

“Have a good catch-up,” Jack bids him, smirking, as Luke leaves the kitchen. “Human Luke.”

“Twitter’s just begging to know about you bringing your teddy bear to uni!”

“Twitter doesn’t give a shit about me!” Jack calls back. “Tell them I’m only calling you Human Luke from now on!”

Ashton laughs. Luke gives him a piercing glare.

“You’re a shithead,” he declares. “You’re all shitheads. I need new friends. And a new family.”

“But you love us so much,” Ashton says, giggling. “You’re the only Human Luke I’ve got, buddy.”

“I will seriously hang up on you.”

Luke’s phone buzzes. He briefly swipes down from the top to read a text from Ben:

Ben Hemmings: YOUR BAND CALLS YOU HUMAN LUKE???????????

For fuck’s sake.

When Alex texts Luke asking if any of his band wants to grab a coffee this weekend, Luke is quick to accept. It’s been too long since he’s seen Alex, and they’re intersecting one weekend in L.A., so Luke sends out the invite to his bandmates.

On Saturday afternoon, Luke and Michael wander into a coffee shop somewhere in the mysteriously secluded part of downtown Los Angeles, eyes searching until they land on Alex and Jack.

“What’s going on?” Alex says, grinning and getting to his feet. He pulls Michael into a hug first, and then Luke. Jack does the same. “Feels like it’s been forever.”

“Well, you’ve been busy with Last Young Renegade, haven’t you?” Michael says as they all sit. “And we’ve got Youngblood coming out.”

“Yeah, suspiciously close release date you guys chose, there,” Jack says, narrowing his eyes playfully at Michael. “We know you’re, like, a million times more successful than us, but did you need to show us up like that?”

“Yeah,” Michael says. “We did, yeah.” He turns to Luke. “Wanna get us drinks?”

Luke stands. “What do you want?”

“Iced caramel coffee,” Michael says. “Honestly, Luke, you should know my coffee order by now, This is terrible for our image. We’re supposed to live in each other’s pockets.”

“Fuck you,” Luke argues. “It changes, like, every month.”

“Or maybe you’re just a terrible friend.”

Luke rolls his eyes and Alex and Jack chuckle, and he ambles over to the register to order for himself and Michael.

When he returns to the table, Michael’s mid-story. Luke slides back into his seat and passes Michael’s drink to him, and Michael takes it without breaking in his narrative. “So Calum is wasted, and Luke — Human Luke, I mean — is basically passed out, almost, and I’m just trying to get Calum’s fucking door open. This bitch,” he jerks his chin at Luke, “is heavy.”

“I’m just tall!”

“I basically had to feel Calum up to get the key out of his pocket,” Michael says gravely. “But we got inside. And then Luke wouldn’t stop making noise, of course, because he was so excited to see us after we’d been out for hours. You wouldn’t think such a small dog could make such a racket, but there you are.”

“Oh, Luke!” Alex says excitedly, and Luke thinks, for a second, that Alex means him, but of course he doesn’t. Nobody does, these days. “I keep seeing him on Calum’s Instagram. He’s so fucking cute.”

“Absolutely adorable,” Michael agrees.

“Did you just call Luke Human Luke?” Jack asks. Luke buries his face in his hands.

“Don’t even start,” he mutters. “They won’t stop.”

“That’s kinda hilarious,” Jack says. “Imagine if I got a dog and just called it Alex.”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Alex says. “Alex is the best name ever.”

“Actually, if I was going to name it after anyone in the band, it’d be Alex, probably,” Jack concedes. “Zack’s kinda, like, too human. And Rian’s name is spelled weird, so obviously it couldn’t be that.”

“You have my blessing,” Alex tells him. “In fact, I dare you.”

“This isn’t a joke,” Luke says stubbornly. He takes a drink from his own iced coffee. “I’m being made into a mockery. I’m a serious musician.”

“So is Lil Dicky,” Jack points out, “and he’s called Lil Dicky. Like, on purpose. You could do way worse than Human Luke.”

“Human Luke would actually be a pretty sick rap name,” Alex says, laughing.

“It’s a futile effort, guys,” Michael says. “He’s dead set on being pissed off about it.”

“I’m the original Luke,” Luke says despondently. He’s said that so many times in the past couple of month he’s beginning to feel like a broken record. “I came first!”

“Aw, don’t worry,” Alex says, reaching over the table to pat Luke’s cheeks reassuringly. “You’ll always be plain old Luke to me.”

“Not me,” Jack says, smirking. “I’m calling you Human Luke now, for sure.”

“I’ll delete your number,” Luke threatens.

“You will not.”

Luke won’t — he’s not about to delete Jack Barakat’s number — but he sure wishes he could, just to make a statement.

Dog Luke is super cute. There’s no way around it.

It’s just, okay, his snout. It’s his snout! And his tiny paws, and his floppy little ears, and his soulful eyes. And, he can smile. He’s a dog who can smile, okay, how could you not find him just absolutely precious? Luke would challenge anyone to look at Dog Luke for five seconds and not fall immediately in love.

He and Calum are playing Fifa, but Calum’s just gone to the bathroom when Dog Luke stretches out. He’d been curled up, snoozing on the floor. Now he shakes himself out and pushes himself onto his hind legs, front paws on the couch, gazing at Luke.

Luke huffs. “Only ‘til Cal gets back.” He picks Dog Luke up and hugs him close to his chest. Dog Luke nuzzles his nose into Luke’s neck. Luke smiles despite himself. He actually loves this dog, whatever bitterness he might spread around. It’s impossible not to.

“Alright, let’s have a little chat, you and I,” Luke decides, laying down and cuddling Dog Luke up in his arms. “I don’t hate you, you know. I just hate your owner. Calum’s a shithead. You’re alright. It’s not your fault you’re called Luke.”

Dog Luke squirms in Luke’s arms, and Luke drops a kiss on the top of his head. This seems to satisfy him, enough to stop him moving. “I bet it gets confusing for you, though, having me here?” Luke hums, scratching mindlessly behind Dog Luke’s ears. “That’s why I have to be Human Luke, because that doesn’t sound like Luke. You’re Luke. When we’re in the same room, anyway. I forgive you for that. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Or a new name. Or anything new, really.”

Dog Luke just sneezes.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Luke,” Luke says. “I’m Human Luke. I’ll go by Human Luke for you.”

“About fucking time!” Calum crows, and Luke, startled, jolts upright. Dog Luke loses his balance and Luke only just manages to catch him from falling off the couch.

“What the fuck, Calum, a little fucking warning,” Luke says, heart still pounding from the shock. “Jesus Christ.”

“You just called yourself Human Luke!” Calum says triumphantly, crossing to the couch and taking Dog Luke in his arms. “Hi, cutie. Did Human Luke finally accept his name?”

“That was conditional,” Luke feels it necessary to add. “I just don’t want to confuse the dog.”

“Oh, absolutely.” Calum grins. “You’re so full of shit, Luke. Human Luke.”

“I wasn’t talking to you! That was for the dog!”

“You were talking to Luke,” Calum sing-songs, “and you agreed to be called Human Luke, and I won’t ever forget about it, and am going to absolutely tell that story next time we get asked about Luke in an interview.”

“I hate you,” Luke announces loudly. “I hate you, I hate you, you’re the worst friend ever and I hate you —”

Calum just hands Dog Luke back to Luke, and Luke can’t very well be scathing while he’s holding about fifteen pounds of pure sweetness.

“You’re perfect,” Luke informs Dog Luke. “I forgive you. I will never forgive Calum, but that’s something that you and I are going to have to move past if we’re going to be friends.”

Calum laughs.

#calum hood #luke hemmings #duke hood #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #THISSSSSS IS SOOOOOOOOOOO FUCKING STUPID THISI S THE DUMBEST THIGN IN THE WORLDDDD #DUMBEST THING ON THE PLANETTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT #IT'S ALMOST 4AM!!!!!!! JESUS HCHRISTTTTT #this is the kind of shit i get up to when i do one (1) assignment #and this is meghna's fault and i LITERALLY cant bleieve i wrote this #i wish helen had written it she'd have done it so much better #but anyway heres this. here it is. i sure did write it. and now it exists. and now you can read it #and i HATEEEEEEEEE MYSELRFFFFF #not really i dont hate myself BUT this is so super dumb and stupid genuinely #muke!gelphie has been unseated. this fic claims the crown as dumbest thing ive written #win!!#ANYWAY

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paths-of-my-childhood-candid · 5 years ago

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Lover Conquers All

By: Mark Sutherland for Music Week Date: November 4th 2019 issue (published online on December 13th 2019)

She’s the world’s biggest pop star, but despite her global success, Taylor Swift is also the music industry’s greatest advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights. And, with a ground-breaking new record deal and a bold new album, Lover, she’s not about to stop now. Music Week meets her to talk music and business...

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast. Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time - helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover - reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

“It always was and it always will be an interesting dance being a young woman in the music industry,” she smiles ruefully. “We don’t have a lot of female executives, we’re working on getting more female engineers and producers but, while we are such a drastic gender minority, it’s interesting to try and figure out how to be.”

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

“I was planning the release of my first album when I was 15 years old,” she reminisces. “And I was a fully gangly 15, I reminded everyone of their niece! I was in this industry in Nashville and country music, where I was making album marketing calls, but I never wanted to stand up and say, ‘Yeah, that promotions plan you just complimented my label on, I thought of that! Me and my Mom thought of that!’

“When you’re a new artist you wonder how much space you can take up and, as a woman, you wonder how much space you can take up pretty much your whole period of growing up,” she continues. “For me, growing up and knowing that I was an adult was realising that I was allowed to take up space from a marketing perspective, from a business perspective, from an opinionated perspective. And that feels a lot better than constantly trying to wonder if I’m allowed to be here.”

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now - having belatedly embraced the format with Lover - streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

But her influence on music and the music industry doesn’t end there. Because, over the years, Swift has also become a leading advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights, in a digital landscape that doesn’t always have such matters as a priority.

In 2015, she stood up to Apple Music over its plans to not pay artist royalties during subscribers’ three-month free trials (Apple backed down immediately). She pulled her entire catalogue from Spotify in 2014 in protest that its free tier was devaluing music, sending Daniel Ek scrambling to justify his business model. When she returned in 2017, it was a crucial fillip for the streaming service’s IPO plans.

More recently, her ground-breaking new record deal with Republic Records contained clauses not only guaranteeing her ownership of her future masters, but also ensuring Universal Music will share the spoils of its Spotify shares with its artists, without any payments counting against unrecouped balances. And when her long-time former label boss Scott Borchetta sold Big Machine to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, taking Swift’s first six albums with him, the star publicly called out what she saw as her “worst-case scenario” and stressed: “You deserve to own the art you make”. She may yet re-record her old songs in protest.

In short, Swift has, for a long time now, been unafraid to use her voice on industry matters, whether they pertain to her own stellar career or the thousands of other artists out there struggling to make a living.

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon - she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats - one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity - and ready to talk business.

And for Swift, business is good. The impact of her joining streaming, and the decline of traditional album sales, may have prevented her from posting a fifth successive one million-plus sales debut, but Lover still sold more US copies (867,000) in its first week than any record since her own Reputation. It’s sold 117,513 copies to date in the UK, according to the Official Charts Company.

Even better, while Reputation - a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West - was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Aiwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

It contains more than its fair share of pop bangers (You Need To Calm Down, Me!), but also some gorgeously-crafted acoustic tracks (Lover, Cornelia Street), some pithy political commentary (The Man, Miss America & The Heartbreak Prince) and the sort of musical diversions (Paper Rings’ irresistible rockabilly stomp, the childlike oddity of It’s Nice To Have A Friend) that no other pop superstar would have the sheer musical chops to attempt, let alone pull off.

“Taylor’s creative instincts as an artist and songwriter are brilliant,” says Monte Lipman, founder and CEO of Swift’s US label, Republic. “Our partnership represents a strategic alliance built on mutual respect, trust, and complete transparency. Her vision is extraordinary as she sets the tone for every campaign and initiative.”

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here - she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover - from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

And today, Swift is keen to concentrate on the present and future. She has a starring role in Cats coming up (and a new song on the soundtrack, Beautiful Ghosts, co-written with Andrew Lloyd Webber) and, after a spectacularly intimate Paris launch show in September, festival dates and her own LoverFest to plan (UK shows will be revealed soon). Time, then, to tell the cats to calm down and sit down with Music Week to talk streaming, contracts and why she’s “obsessed” with the music industry...

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music... Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have? It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time? Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now? I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal? That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums? In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ - there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future? I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect? Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age... Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest? Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out? That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!

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somarsword · 4 years ago

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Sleep on the Floor - Part 1

ROGER TAYLOR X READER

Hiii! This is my first fanfic (that I’m posting) so please have mercy on me hahaha. Anyways, feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! :>

Big disclaimer, I am neither American nor British.

oh also photo credits to @hoopdiddydo_ taken from her post on twitter and pinterest.

Warnings: cursing? TRIGGER WARNING!!! Domestic abuse. Panic attack.

Word Count: 1.8k words

February 6, 1976 - New York

"Well, what do you say Y/n?" he asks, one knee still planted on the ground and holding out the small box containing the ring. This was not something you had ever expected to happen so soon.

The once lively and buzzing restaurant was now engulfed in silence, only the occasional whispers remained. All eyes were now trained on you, anticipating your response in silent excitement.

You watch the smile on his face falter slightly as he waits for your response, worry ebbing his features, reminding you that you have yet to respond.

Simon, a sweet guy, helps out at the homeless shelter during Saturdays, goes to church on Sundays, and someone you've been with for a little over 3 years now. Sure, you liked him, but this all seemed to happen too soon. Try as you may to properly assess your feelings all you could think of was, 𝐼'𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎𝑠𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒. So reluctantly you nod, forcing a smile onto your face, albeit one that doesn't reach your eyes.

Cheers and claps surround you as he slips the ring onto your finger but all the noise is drowned out by the deafening ringing in your ears. Your heart begins to beat rapidly against your chest as you suddenly feel an overwhelming feeling of dread wash over you. Leaving only one word to remain on your mind.

Soon enough, everyone resumes their meals, leaving you to listen to Simon's rambling, something you used to see as adorable but now just made you feel icky. "So I was thinking of it and maybe for the wedding we could-", but his words pass through one ear and out the other.

You stare at the plate set in front of you, absentmindedly pushing the food back and forth with the fork beginning to feel incredibly light headed. I can't do this. I need to think.

"I'll just use the restroom. Be right back" is all you say before rushing to the toilet. You push the door open quickly, not making it much further inside before your breathing completely picks up. Grasping the edge of the counter you choke out weak sobs as your throat constricts.

Just as you're sure you'll pass out, a man enters. His movements pause when he sees you, both surprise and confusion written on his face. He's quickly brought out of his daze, however, once he processes the state you're in.

In one swift motion, he's by your side, holding onto your other free hand in an attempt to comfort you.

"Can you try to match my breathing love? Think you can handle that?" He speaks slowly, watching you closely, making sure you understand him. You nod.

"Okay. Breathe in" he takes a deep breath in. You do your best to copy it.

"And out" he exhales.

••• -•- •• •--•

He repeats this for a couple minutes before your breathing returns to normal. You finally loosen your grip on his hands, pulling away.

"Uh thanks for the help. I really appreciate it." You finally say to the blonde man. He nods in response.

"What are you doing in the lady's comfort room though?" at your question the man gives a quick chuckle. With a questioning gaze, you look at him.

"Lady, this is the men's room" and sure enough, as you look around, you see the urinals lining the wall.

"Oh" is all you manage to say, your face flushing a deeper shade of red than you thought possible. Apparently, in your haste to escape, you managed to enter the wrong room.

Leaning back against the counter you stare down at your hands, your fingers grazing over the ring set on it. It gleams brightly, definitely not cheap.

Daring to break the silence you finally speak. "Sorry for keeping you here so long. Your date must be waiting" you say, dropping your hands to your sides.

You look up only to see the man's gaze on your ring as well, recognition in his eyes, as if finally realizing why you looked so familiar. He says nothing of the ring as he looks back at you.

"Oh, it's no worries love, I'm just here with my mates. I don't think those 3 wankers are worried anyway" He offers you a comforting smile, going to lean against the wall directly in front of you.

"The Ritz is a bit pricey for a night out with the boys, don't you think?" you ask, letting out a small laugh.

"I guess it is, huh?" He agrees, letting out a small chuckle of his own, shaking his head. "Kinda lucky it's paid for by the record label"

"Record label?" You ask, confusion laced in your tone and eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah. We're uhm-" he scratches the back of his head, realizing he's said something he wasn't supposed to, "Well we're touring at the moment so all our meals are paid for." You nod in acknowledgement, choosing not to pry into it much further.

Your gaze falls back to the ring on your finger, half expecting it to suddenly vanish and for you to wake up from this monstrosity of a night.

"Hey look, I know you're going through something, and you don't have to talk about it." the man speaks up again, "But if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to just feel free to call me"

Looking up, you finally see him holding out what seems to be a business card. You reach for it, nodding meekly.

"Thanks-" you start, before realizing you hadn't actually caught his name.

"Roger" he says.

"Right. Thanks Roger." You turn to your side a bit, stuffing his business card into your bra (a habit you had to stop doing when in front of people) right as the door opens. A man pauses by the entrance, and before you can look at him he starts speaking.

"What the hell is going on?" Simon growls, his voice an octave lower than usual. You snap your head up, immediately looking at him.

Everything happens so quickly that if you had blinked you would have missed it. He approaches both of you in quick strides before attaching his fist to the jaw of Roger. Your eyes shoot open in horror as Roger hunches over coughing, a bit of blood seeping out his mouth.

Before you could properly react or make an apology to him you're roughly dragged away by Simon, leaving a surprised Roger behind.

••• -•- •• •--•

Simon drives all the way home, silently seething as he grips the steering wheel to the point where his knuckles go white. You cower slightly at the sight. In all your time together you've never known him to be violent, well physically at least, so this was new.

All the way up to the driveway he says nothing, only gritting his teeth and breathing heavily as he replays the image he just saw. Once you were behind closed doors, however, it was a different story.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING WITH THAT GUY IN THE TOILET?" He yells, causing you to flinch back at the sheer aggressiveness of his voice.

"Nothing. We weren't doi-" You begin but are cut of by his dark chuckle.

"Then what the 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 were you doing in the men's comfort room?" His voice is deeper and threatening. You say nothing opting instead to stare at the floor. His stance was frightening. 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑤𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚?

"Answer me" He growls, voice dripping with rage. When he receives no response from you he gets more fueled up, grabbing a glass cup that was left on the dining table before hurling it towards you. It hits your shoulder with an aggressive 𝐭𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐜𝐤 before falling and shattering on the ground.

He approaches you causing you to backup into the wall. Trying to make yourself disappear you slide down, covering your face in fear. He scoffs at your poor attempt to escape his wrath and pulls you up roughly by the hair, picking up a shard of glass as he does so.

"𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐓" you're too encapsulated by fear to register the giant gash he was painting into your stomach, slicing the dress that clung to your body in the process. After a few moments with still no response, he releases his grip on your hair, causing you to collapse on the ground, blood beginning to pool under you.

"Should've known you were a fucking slut. Clean yourself up" is all he says before walking out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Scrambling to gather your breath, you force yourself to sit up. Your hand flies down to the cuts on your belly, applying pressure on it in hopes of stopping it from bleeding any.

••• -•- •• •--•

You don't know how long you stay there on the floor, but it feels like hours. With as much strength as you can gather you trudge towards the kitchen, wetting a hand towel to clean up the cut.

The wind howls outside, causing the front door to rattle. The rattling suddenly snaps you back to the reality that Simon could be back any moment. With shaky hands you quickly press a cut up piece of cloth towards the wound, taping it down haphazardly. Once done, you rush towards the bedroom to pack.

You grab a duffel bag that was hung next to the door, zipping it open before crouching under the bed to retrieve the shoe box you've hidden under it. Drawing it out, you discard the lid and reach inside to pull out the small amount of money you had managed to save, along with the folder containing your birth certificate and other important documents. You stuff it all into the bag, changing your (now ripped up) dress and grabbing a few articles of clothing on the way out.

You make a beeline towards the front door, only stopping once your hand lay on the doorknob.

𝐴𝑚 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠?

You glance behind you. Everything you thought you ever wanted to have stares right back at you. A house, a (supposedly) loving boyfriend turned fiancé, and a stable job. So why did it feel wrong when he proposed last night?

Shaking your head at your own thoughts, you rip the ring off your finger and toss it on the floor before storming out into the dark and empty streets.

••• -•- •• •--•

February 7, 1976 - New York

The sky is now a deep shade of blue, sun beginning to rise from a night's slumber. You've been walking for hours, figuring out what to do. With barely any money on you, you had nowhere to go, so unless you could manage to walk all the way to the next state, you were dead. You could barely afford to eat. Why had you ever agreed to share a bank account with him? How could you have been so stupid as to not have kept more for yourself? Without Simon's signature on the withdrawal slip they wouldn't give you even a penny of your hard work.

𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘. 𝐼'𝑚 𝑟𝑜𝑦𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑤𝑒𝑑.

#roger taylor #roger taylor x you #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger x reader #roger #queen #ben!roger #roger taylor fanfic

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hazzmedicine · 5 years ago

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his replament pt 2

a/n: i am in disbelief at how much you all enjoyed the first part. thank you all so much for the support and kind words. i’m a little nervous because this part isn’t as good as the first but there’s a lot planned for the third. anywayyy, hope you enjoy! 1.8k

Going out that night was actually very beneficial for many reasons. Y/N and Shawn had learned that many beach attractions, like restaurants and gift shops, were in walking distance. And Y/N’s mood had improved knowing that Harry was trying to reach her but she wasn’t crawling right back to him. Shawn’s cheesy jokes may have also contributed to that mood increase.

After returning to their temporary residency, Y/N cleaned herself up after her long travels and bid Shawn a goodnight. That’s when he took the chance to get on his phone but he would never want her to know that. Off she went to her separate room. She plugged in her phone, and got into bed.

After what felt like a century of just staring at the ceiling, she started to debate getting on her phone. She knew if she did, she’d be tempted to call Harry back. And calling Harry would mean forgiving Harry, which she wasn’t ready to do yet. She’s always been the one to forgive right away, but not this time, she told herself. This time she would show him that she didn’t need him, and then convince herself that.

With that in mind, she chose to let her phone sit there in peace and turned on her side to face the opposite way. She did not care how long she had to stay up, she was not giving in.

---

Y/N woke up to the sound of quiet knocks on her door and the smell of eggs. “Come in,” she mumbled with half her face still pressed against the pillow. The soft creaking of the door prompted her to slowly open her eyes. Her eyes revealed her curly headed friend carrying a tray with multiple plates topped with food. The soft glow of the sun shining through the curtains made him look angelic and she definitely took note of that.

“Morning sleepyhead,” he said as walked to her bedside. Y/N forced herself to sit up and returned his morning greeting. “Here’s your breakfast.” He gently placed the tray on her lap. She took in the view of the stacked waffles and scrambled eggs. A cup was filled orange juice and there was a purple flower off to the side for decor.

“Awh Shawn, you didn’t need to make me breakfast,” she said, smiling up at him. Her voice was still groggy from only waking up a few minutes ago which he thought was adorable.

“Good, because I didn’t. I had it delivered.” She laughed at his slight laziness and this made Shawn internally pat himself on his back for making her let out such a beautiful noise.

“Well home cooked or not, I still appreciate it. Thank you.” And it was then that she gave him the look that always brighten his day. A look of admiration she had given him many times before. He would buy her breakfast everyday if this was the look he was going to get afterwards.

“You’re very welcome.” He couldn’t help but grin.

Shortly afterwards, Shawn had left her to eat and get ready for the day. They mutually agreed that the perfect way to start the first day was to hit the beach. In less than an hour had finished eating, washing her face, brushing her teeth, and getting her new bathing suit on.

Y/N left her room hoping Shawn was nearly ready but was soon disappointed when she spotted him on the couch still in his pajamas, the classic white tank top and random sweatpants. In his hand was his phone, that he was currently deeply distracted by. Y/N cleared her throat and he looked up at her with slight surprise. He noticed her beach cover up was already on and she had her beach bag packed.

“I didn’t realize you were ready to go. Let me go change.” He placed his phone on the coffee table and leapt up from his seat.

“Get moving, Mendes,” she joked and gave a little smack to his ass as he walked past her.

“Hey! Watch the money maker.” He could not even keep a straight face as those words left his mouth. She playfully rolled her eyes and he disappeared into his room.

Within another quick hour, they were settled at their spot at the beach. They set up their umbrella and chairs close enough to the clear blue water, but far enough that’d they be surrounded by enough dry sand to use for when she convinced him to make a sandcastle.

It didn’t take much convincing. His inner child fully blossomed as he mentally planned out the castle and start barking orders to complete his vision.

Including the sandcastle, they had done a lot at the beach. They went for a swim which help clean off the sand covering their bottoms. A quick swim lead to a splash war, which lead to Shawn picking her up and tossing her into the water, which lead to her pretending to be mad at him until he gave her an apology accompanied with puppy dog eyes that she always gave into. Afterward, they left the sea and Y/N decided to do some tanning.

“Hey, can you hand me my phone,” Shawn asked from his spot under the umbrella. Y/N gave him a disapproving. “Relax, I’m just using it to play music.” She took a second to decide that was a valid reason to break the phone rule. Reaching into the bag next to her, she grabbed his phone and lifted it out of the bag. Before tossing it to Shawn, she noticed the abundance of messages from his good friend, Teddy.

“Why is Teddy blowing up your phone?” He unlocked his phone to read through the multiple messages and Y/N resumed her tanning position on her belly on her towel.

“Apparently, she doesn’t believe I’m here at the Bahamas.”

“Send her a picture then.”

“You’re a genius.” Shawn gets up to lay next to Y/N on his stomach and props his phone camera up to get both of them in frame with the sea behind them. “Smile.”

Y/N finally looks up with surprise. “I meant of the beach or something. Something without me in it.”

“Well she could just accuse me of looking up a pic. It’s easier this way. Now, smile.” Shawn parts his lips to show off his sparkling white teeth. Begrudgingly, she gives in and mirrors his wide smile. He takes the picture and then looks closely to examine it like a teenage girl. “See, look how cute this is.”

And he’s right, it’s a cute ass picture. Not only do they both look perfectly happy and look great, but the background of the crystal blue sea is adding to the idea that they are living their best life. And they’re perfectly posed so they can look like just good friends or lovers underwraps.

It’s so cute that she just wants to show it off to others. She quietly asks him to send it to her and then he mocks her for not wanting to take it in the first place but still sends it to her anyway.

They don’t stay at the beach for much longer, knowing they will have plenty of days to come back. They return to the beach house to shower and prepare themselves for an early dinner at a close by restaurant.

“Hey, Y/N, you can join me in the shower to save water,” he offers half-jokingly and even adds a playful wink.

“Ha ha, very funny Mendes,” she sarcastically responds.

“I’m just trying to think about the environment here.” The look he gives her is so smug that she can’t decide if she hates it or finds it attractive. The answer is a mix of both. She mutters a “whatever” and lightly pushes him into the bathroom so he can shower. Alone.

Y/N takes the opportunity to check her phone while he’s in the shower. She finally turns the device on for the first time since last night and is slightly bombarded with notifications. All her girl friends are asking if the “lover news” is true, to which she replies with a no. She doesn’t bother opening twitter, already knowing what is awaiting her. She looks at her call log. 3 Missed Calls from Harry Styles. She doesn’t call him back. She sees that he’s texted her.

From Harry Styles

Please call me when you get the chance xxx

C’mon sweetheart, answer the phone xx

I’m sorry, Y/N

Finally. The words she was waiting for. But she still doesn’t want to accept the apology. After all the pain he’s put her through from the beginning of their “arrangement.” She thinks he can and should work a little harder if he truly is sorry. And when she does finally accept his apology, what is he expecting next? He already knows how she feels about him. Would he finally reciprocate those feelings? Probably not.

Y/N leaves him on read and goes to the picture Shawn sent her. She notices how happy she appears. She hasn’t seen herself smile that wide recently when she was with Harry. Taking Shawn on the vacation with her has been refreshing.

She opens up her instagram app and decides to post it. Her feed has a new addition of a smiling Y/N and Shawn with the caption, “unbothered by the beach.” Satisfied with her post, she powers down her phone once again.

“The shower is all yours, Y/N,” Shawn calls from outside her door.

---

@Y/NY/L posted a new photo

reads the new notification on Harry’s phone. Harry opens up his phone to see the picture. Pictured is his Y/N next to someone that wasn’t him. He can see that she was in her new bathing suit that she had shown to him a few weeks ago. The same week he had agreed to go to the trip without fully listening to the details. And if he wasn’t kicking himself before, now he certainly was. He had been such an asshole to her and should’ve listened to her more. And now he couldn’t even get her to return his texts or calls because she was too busy with a guy who was clearly kinder to her than he was. A guy who could potentially steal her away.

This thought is what causes Harry to truly panic. He may have acted like he didn’t want her, but he needed her. He tried to hide it the best he could but he was beginning to depend on her. His new dependency on someone other than himself scared his and ultimately led him to push her away. He never truly thought she would give up and move on but her new post contradicted that. He had to fix this problem that he caused and he had to do it fast.

In just a few short minutes, he had his assistant on the phone. “Cancel all my plans. I need a flight to the Bahamas as soon as possible.”

#harry styles drabble #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #solo harry #harry styles blurb #hazzmedicine #harry styles writing #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mended writing

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bananaofswifts · 5 years ago

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Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast.

Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time – helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover – reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now – having belatedly embraced the format with Lover – streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon – she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats – one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity – and ready to talk business.

Even better, while Reputation – a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West – was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Alwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here – she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover – from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date – her songwriting has gone to a new level. I adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music…

“Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.”

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have?

“It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.”

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time?

“Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.”

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now?

“I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.”

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal?

“That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.”

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums?

“In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ – there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.”

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future?

“I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.”

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect?

“Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.”

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age…

“Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!”

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest?

“Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.”

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out?

“That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!”

#taylor swift #all intreview

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enlacinglineswrites · 5 years ago

Photo

I am so in love with @gigili-jiggly Klance single dads AU that I wrote this little piece about them. Thank you SO MUCH Gigili for allowing me to write this!

Please go check out their art, it makes my heart melt every-time.

Thanks for reading!

Also posted on Instagram

----------------------

Growing little family

His shirt is ruined.

Lance peels the wet fabric from his chest carefully, only letting out a small squeak as he lifts the shirt over his head; attempting in vain to not let the damp part touch his face as he removes it.

He shudders as he drops the shirt onto the bathroom floor and starts cleaning up. He loves Kosmo, loves him so incredibly with his entire being: the way he watches the world like it’s a puzzle he needs to know the answer to right now, how he snuggles into Lance comfortably whenever he naps and that he totters after Keith everywhere; a tiny shadow marking his steps.

But oh, he drools so much. And it doesn’t come out, no matter what Lance does. This is the third shirt in a month he’s had to say goodbye to. Seriously, what is Keith feeding him?

Lance exits the bathroom and walks into Keith’s room, pulling out a plain maroon t-shirt from a drawer. He throws it over his head and is immediately accosted with the scent of home; of comfort, a place he can be himself in, of unparalleled affection and care. Of love in all fashions. The scent of Keith.

Lance hugs himself once, as no one else is there to see. Okay, maybe there are some upsides to Kosmo ruining his shirt. He gets to wear Keith’s clothes for the rest of the day, one of his favourite boyfriend perks.

Now changed, he makes his way back downstairs, where Keith sits with a tired looking Kosmo on his lap. Who is no longer drooling. Typical. He sends Lance an apologetic look but his gaze also lingers, noting the way his own shirt hangs on Lance’s frame.

Lance blushes, but turns away. Not now, he thinks to himself severely and instead swoops down to the floor where Kaltenecker sits near the other side of the room, absorbed in something playing on a screen.

She giggles and shrieks as Lance presses an exaggerated kiss to her hair and carefully takes the empty milkshake glass away as she scrambles around to face him.

“We’re heading out soon, Princesa,” he whispers, but she shakes her head.

“Don’t want to,” she says with a pout.

Lance sighs and rubs her back gently. “We’re going to get food first, you can stay with Keith a little longer,” he says, trying to keep his voice light. But he also feels that disappointment, wants to whine and curl up just like his daughter.

Maybe you should just ask him to move in with you?

Lance dismisses the thought rapidly, not wanting to dwell. It isn’t the right time yet. Soon maybe, but not now.

“Go put your shoes and coat on,” he says to her before standing, and she continues to look sad in his direction. He knows he’ll end up getting them for her, can’t help it. And Keith will roll his eyes and tell Lance not to spoil her, but he’d do the same in a heartbeat.

Keith smiles at him as he passes, his son now cuddled into a cushion beside him, as Lance walks to the kitchen to wash out Kaltenecker’s glass before he leaves. Lance thinks there’s a hint of sadness in Keith’s eyes too, always is when their time together comes to an end. But they still have a few hours before Lance and Kaltenecker need to be home; time to make the most of the minutes and seconds they share with one another.

“I have a present for you.”

Keith’s soft voice floats through to Lance, who looks up with a frown. He peers through the doorway and sees Kaltenecker frown at Keith, clearly wondering if this ‘present’ is enough motivation to actually get up. Lance quietly walks to the doorway so he has a clear view of where Keith sits on the sofa and where his daughter stares back.

Slowly, Kaltenecker hauls herself to her feet, as if she wasn’t running around and chasing Lance through the snow outside less than two hours ago. She walks slowly to Keith, who smiles at her and carefully pulls out something small and dark blue coloured from behind his back.

“So your ears stop getting so cold,” he says quietly, gently smoothing down her unruly pink hair and carefully placing the hat on her head.

Lance has to slap his hand over his mouth to hold back the noise which rises unbidden from the back of his throat. For the hat has tiny little points on either side like miniature horns, and is just that little bit too big. She pushes it up with a hand as it flops down, marvelling at the new item, the dark colour contrasting perfectly with her hair. She looks adorable.

“Keeeiiittthhhhh” she screams, her energy levels back up to maximum as she jumps at him, Keith having to dive forward and catch her in case she missteps. She immediately wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek as Keith stands with her in his arms, an action she’s learned to copy from Lance.

Lance just takes in the sight for a moment; watching Keith’s cheeks turn pink as Kaltenecker continues to tell him just how much she loves the hat. Lance’s eyes mist, and he has to take a few seconds to allow them to clear. He is lucky, so lucky to have Keith who loves his daughter just as much as he does, who creates these little moments for her so she can feel it too when she’s only five.

He inhales once, steadies himself and walks in.

“Papa, look! My hat!”

Lance smiles and moves to stand next to Keith, wrapping an arm around his waist and squeezing.

“You look beautiful, Princesa. Isn’t Keith the best?”

“Lance,” Keith mutters as Kaltenecker yells “The best!” in reply.

Lance chuckles and kisses Keith’s temple, who then sets his daughter down.

“Shoes and coat time,” Lance says, and although she returns to her languid pace, she does go to fetch them.

As she leaves, Lance turns and wraps his arms around Keith’s neck, Keith winding his around Lance’s waist.

“Bribing my daughter with pretty things so she’ll like you more than me?” he says with a wink.

Keith rolls his eyes. “She already does, I don’t need to bribe her.”

Lance gasps dramatically and pretends to pull away, but Keith holds him steady until they’re locked with foreheads touching. Lance exhales, smiling as he does, relishing in their closeness and the space for just them for a moment.

“Stay over tonight?” Keith says, voice hopeful and barely above a whisper.

Lance steps back a touch and blinks. It is possible, he could drive over to his apartment quickly after lunch and collect what they need, it isn’t far. So he nods, elated Keith wants this, wants as much time together as possible.

Keith kisses him once, soft and brief, leaving him on the edge of pulling him back by his belt loops and demanding more. But there’s the telltale thunder of small feet and Kaltenecker appears, hat still firmly on but coat buttons all asque.

Keith chuckles and bends down, helping her start again and get them in the correct order. While he does, Lance moves back over to the sofa and picks up a still barely awake Kosmo, who makes a little pleased huff as he curls up into Lance’s shoulder. Keith looks up, Kaltenecker’s coat all buttoned correctly and his look turns soft; eyes bright and smile large as he takes them both in.

Kosmo snuffles against his shoulder and Lance grins.

“So sleepy today, huh little one?” Lance says as he brushes the two toned blue hair out of his eyes.

Kosmo just yawns once then cuddles in again. Immediately Lance feels a wetness collect on his shoulder and grimaces as Kosmo starts to drool.

Keith laughs, now up close and kisses his son’s shock of hair before looking back up at Lance.

“You’re not borrowing another shirt today,” he says.

“What?! What am I supposed to wear?” Lance says with a pout, making his way slowly towards the door as Kaltenecker pulls Keith along by the tips of his fingers.

Keith grins, a smirk of teeth and taunting then leans in close, so close Lance can feel every puff of his breath as he whispers:

“Nothing.”

Then turns abruptly and sweeps up Kaltenecker into his arms, causing her to laugh at the swift movement.

Lance just blinks, frozen for three seconds in the aftermath of Keith’s teasing. Then he shakes his head and once more reminds himself not now before moving, joining his boyfriend and daughter, clutching Kosmo closer to him as he does.

He’s so happy to have them all with him, his growing little family. All he could ever have wished for.

--------------------------------

My Ao3 | Instagram | Twitter

#klance #klance fic #klance drabble #klance fanfic #parents klance #vld klance #established klance

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

Text

Drabble: An Egg-ceptional Day (baon)

Summary: There was a reason Stretch slept in on Saturdays. The Universe was out to get him. A little nugget of luck doesn’t hurt.

Based off a tumblr post @kiwaid reblogged. It was adorable and I could not resist. ^_^

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic, Fluff, Chickens!!

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

Read it Here!

~~*~~

Usually, the curtains in their bedroom were pulled tightly closed at night. Specifically chosen to be room darkening, because Edge had a thing about making sure Stretch got enough sleep.

Yeah, Stretch had it good and he knew it.

But somehow, last night a quarter inch of fabric didn’t get quite pulled into place (and yeah, Stretch was the one who closed them, no way Edge would’ve missed it), and a sliver of sunshine was creeping through it. That it landed directly on Stretch’s face was the Universe’s way of being funny and Stretch could only grudgingly appreciate its rude sense of humor.

It was way earlier than he normally got up on a Saturday, but he was awake now, may as well give sleep up for a loss. With great reluctance and a groan, Stretch hauled himself out of bed, scratching at his pelvis as he scrounged for something to wear. A pair of shorts and a bathrobe later and he shambled downstairs, thinking wistfully fond thoughts of coffee.

There was a full pot on the burner and a couple of bowls with rising bread dough in them, but no sign of Edge. That wasn’t too worrying, he was probably up to his elbows in some weekend project. Stretch would stumble over him eventually; hell, once he’d done it literally and that’d teach him to scrub the floor behind a door without a warning.

One cup of glorious coffee later, Stretch went outside to check on the girls with a bran muffin in hand. As per protocol, he would pick at it disinterestedly before giving most of it to the chickens. So far, he hadn’t been caught out and he was hoping his luck would hold. Whoever decided to make bran the main ingredient of the deliciousness that should be a muffin had a cruel soul.

Probably the Universe again. It always thought it was funny.

The chickens were clucking loudly the moment he opened the sliding glass door, only getting louder as he approached.

“all right, i’m coming,” Stretch shook his head. “what’s up with you two, anyway, i—“ he trailed off. Two. Two chickens, Noodle and Dumpling were at the gate, clamoring for attention. Nugget was nowhere to be seen.

With trembling hands, Stretch opened the gate, swallowing back panic and gently nudging the other two aside with his slippers as he stepped inside. There was a little food in their trough, which made him frown; Edge didn’t usually feed them, even though he got up earlier. A peek in the coop didn’t reveal a little black chicken, but her leash and harness were also missing from the hook inside the door.

Welp, he was no Sherlock Holmes or even a Scooby Doo, but Stretch figured he had enough clues to solve the mystery of where. Why was still up for grabs, though, so onward he went.

As quests went, this one was pretty short, not lasting past going through the gate to the front yard. Edge was kneeling on the ground, weeding through his garden plots and honestly, anyone who thought Edge was at all scary really needed to see him in his gardening hat.

Next to him, happily pecking at the grass, was Nugget in her harness. Her leash was fastening to the handle of a trowel that was sticking out of the ground, not that she was likely to run away, not from Edge.

Why was it he never had his damn phone in these moments?

Stretch walked up to him, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down the slight protuberance of his nasal cavity at Edge. “you know, you make fun of me when i take her for walks.”

“She’s not being used as model to cadge Instagram upvotes with me,” Edge told him loftily. He tossed a handful of weeds into a basket with a pile of others. “She’s helping me.”

“helping you?” Stretch repeated slowly, tasting the words. “yeah, okay, she’s a highly skilled gardener, i’m sure. a regular johnny appleseed, bet we could find her a set of tools on amazon.”

“It isn’t her garden skills I needed.” Another handful of weeds and Edge wasn’t quite looking at him now. “Many insects are useful in a garden, so long as they don’t consume the plants, but while I was out back weeding the plot there, a multi-legged monstrosity of some sort attacked me. Nugget swooped in and consumed it. Now she’s protecting me from further incidents.”

Okay.

Yeah.

Well, that was only the funniest fucking thing he’d ever heard and Edge was so matter-of-fact about it, Stretch wasn’t entirely sure if he was even serious. That story, told in that completely flat tone? Edge was a surprisingly skilled bullshit artist when it came to the ridiculous; it was the serious shit he had trouble lying about.

But, oh, he could picture it. His big, tough Underfell hubby, shrieking and scrambling away from certain insect destruction, only to be rescued by a little chicken who gulped down the offender with a crow of delight. It was like Godzilla getting rescued by Raymond Burr.

He didn’t know if the universe was cruel to let him know what he missed, or kind enough to wake him to discover that it happened at all, because if he hadn’t caught Nugget on duty, the chances of Edge bringing that up over sandwiches at lunch ranked right up there with Edge signing them up for line dancing classes.

Cruel or kind, hm. Both. It was probably both.

While he was wrapping his mind around that, Edge paused in his weeding to give Nugget a scritch. She crooned in ecstasy as her favorite person gave her her due, leaning into his hand and Stretch couldn’t even be jealous.

Okay, maybe a little.

If they were in a cartoon, the lightbulb going on over his head would have glowed even in the bright sunshine, “oh! hang on, stay here!”

Stretch dashed into the house, bathrobe flapping, down to the basement where he kept his box of little outfits he’d made for the ladies over the last year. It took him a moment of digging through the disorganized clutter but soon he held up the little apron he found triumphantly.

One sharpie later, and he was back outside, carefully tying on the apron over the harness. Nugget only stood there, patiently allowing it; she’d always been the best at indulging his whims. In no time she stood before them with her new uniform declaring, ‘Guard Chicken On Duty.’

Edge shook his head, “It’s my fault, I suppose, for allowing you to think you’re funny all this time.”

“i’ll have you know i am hilarious,” Stretch told him haughtily. “thousands of twitter users can’t be wrong.”

“Remind me never to tell you about the Humans who think the earth is flat,” Edge said dryly, but he was trying not to smile and on him that was as a good as a belly laugh.

Stretch pulled out his phone, quickly grabbed because like hell was he missing another photo opportunity. “c’mon, get your feet in the picture!”

His sigh was long-suffering, but seriously, this wasn’t even on the top ten list of worst things he’d done for Stretch. The pic of his grubby gardening shoes with a chicken attacking the toes was on Instagram and Twitter in no time and the likes were pouring in immediately.

“Can I finish now?” Edge asked, in that sweety-sweety polite voice he got when he was being an ass. It was in the top three tones that Stretch loved on him, handily beaten out by ‘hoarse sultry’ and ‘captain command’. Top three wasn’t bad to start the day on.

“yep,” Stretch told him absently, fingers tapping furiously over his phone.

“And don’t start feeding her that bran muffin you have in your pocket yet, I need her hungry.”

“sure, babe…ah,” Stretch cringed guiltily. “um…sorry?”

Edge only hummed and his eye lights were amused. “If you’d prefer another flavor, you can ask, love.”

“please,” Stretch said immediately, because the Universe smiled upon him this day. “anything but bran. kale muffins would be better.”

“I don’t believe I’ll put that to the test, but there are blueberry ones in the pant—“ The words were smothered beneath Stretch’s quick, sloppy kiss and then he was gone, headed back into the house for his sweet, sweet breakfast.

Okay, so maybe the universe was giving him a little bit of a pass today. Missed the exceptional funny but gained the blueberry muffins.

Fair trade.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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redheadnamedabigail13 · 5 years ago

Text

Taylor Swift: Music Week Magazine

November 4, 2019