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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

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Love Rises From The Ashes 🔥 | Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x male rockstar!reader (romantic), Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader (past romance), dagger squad x reader (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, light angst, mentioned of implied suggestive content| Male!reader (he/him) | wc: 7.1k

Premise: High school sweethearts don’t always get a second chance at love. Natasha Trace and Y/n L/n surely didn’t think they would. With Natasha becoming one of the best fighter pilots the Navy has ever produced and Y/n sealing his name as rock music’s resident bad boy, the two couldn’t be on opposite sides of the spectrum. But fate seems to work in mysterious ways.

requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Note: to the anon who requested this I hope you enjoyed it! So sorry it took awhile, I had to deal with dropping a class and things came up so I hope I delivered with everything you imagined. Thank you so much for your patience ! I had so much fun writing this and loved every second! ♥️

Songs headcanon for rockstar!reader: “Giving Up the Gun” by Vampire Weekend, “Where I Come From,” by Passion Pit, “The Antidote,” by St. Vincent, “No Control,” & “Girl Almighty” by One Direction, “These Streets,” by Bastille, “Beggin’” By Måneskin.

February 2023

“Hello I’m Ryan Secrest and we are live from the red carpet at Crypto.com Arena at the 65th Annual Grammy Awards! It’s the biggest night in music with all the stars here tonight—Harry Styles, Taylor Swift, Lizzo, Bad Bunny and Beyonce have been spotted. Hip-Hop celebrates 50 years with a stellar lineup in tonight’s tribute as well as honors to music legends Smokey Robinson and Berry Gordy. Everyone’s buzzing about the upcoming performance—Bad Bunny is rumored to be opening the show and rock n roll bad boy Y/n L/n will be sharing the stage with icons The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Stay tuned or tap into our livestream happening on YouTube as we greet music's biggest stars as they walk the red carpet.”

Fixing the collar of his neon green Versace suit, Y/n smiles when he feels Natasha take his hand as the limo approaches the entrance of the carpet. Dressed in a stunning black gown with neon green poking through the sides and the iconic Versace paperclips attaching them together, Nat was a goddess. Her makeup was similar to his, light with black eyeliner to accentuate her eyes with neon green graphic detailing to make it pop. Only Nat’s was clean and sharp whereas Y/n’s was smudged. A glossy nude painted her lips.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. “Nervous?” It didn’t surprise him that Nat could tell what he was feeling. They’d known each other for so long it was easy to pick up on cues from one another.

“You would think I’d be used to this by now,” Y/n chuckled, flipping his hand so his palm encased hers. “After so many years….but still the carpet part has me sweating.” Briefly thinking back to one of his first red carpets, Y/n internally cringed as the image of him not knowing what the hell to do and talking to so many reporters in a short amount of time. Nowadays he’s had no filter and will say whatever shit comes to mind. The media loves it obviously…except when it’s directed at them.

For the rockstar, he only liked showing up to award shows for the show itself. He looked forward to sitting in the chairs with fellow musicians, watching performances, and the thrill of excitement when he won whatever he was nominated for.

Personally he could do without the red carpet. But unfortunately it came with the event. It was the fucking Grammy’s after all.

Nat patted his hand, pulling him from the memory, “You’re a pro at this, babe. Patty and I will be there every step.” Patty was his publicist, who really made it easier for him on carpets by telling the interviewer to keep it fast and quick. “And if you feel overwhelmed or want to get out of there quickly just squeeze my hand and we’ll book it.” The offer makes Y/n laugh, kissing Nat’s hand as he brings it to his lips.

“What would I do without you, Natasha Trace?”

“I like to not think about that,” she teases with a smirk, “But you’d probably try to find a backdoor to sneak into the stadium.”

“Yeah…I definitely would.”

As the limo came to a stop, Y/n mentally prepared himself to face the dozens of cameras, screaming fans, and vulture reporters. He wondered where the guys were going to be seated. Knowing Rooster they probably got the floor beside the stage reserved for fans or front rows of the stands on the side. Either way, he was gonna search them out once they got inside.

Cheers met Y/n’s ears, ringing as he gave a brief wave when stepping out of the vehicle. Turning he held out his hand to assist Natasha, her diamond engagement ring sparkling under the daylight. The cheers seemed to increase at the sight of her, the woman blushing while Y/n smoothed out the fabric of her dress. With a kiss to her cheek, he took her hand and led her onto the carpet, both waving to the many supporters calling out to them.

“Y/n, I love you!!!”

“You look gorgeous, Natasha!! You guys are so hot!!”

“Good luck tonight—it’s your year!!”

Then you had the photographers shouting over them.

“Y/n, Natasha, over here!!”

“Can we get a glimpse of that ring, Natasha?”

“When’s the wedding—are you two having it in San Diego or New York?”

“Over here, Y/n, over here!”

“Y/n, are you excited to perform with the Red Hot Chili Peppers tonight?”

“Yes I am,” he replied over the noise, making the guy give a smile of victory he got acknowledged. “It’s gonna be epic, I can tell you that.”

Soon it came time for the interviews. And God was there a lot. E! Network, Access Hollywood, MTV, ABC, EXTRA, Hollywood Reporter, Entertainment Tonight, & The Insider….and those were just the major ones. Smaller networks were present as well, but thankfully Y/n’s publicist only scheduled him for the big ones.

“Y/n, Natasha, lovely to see you two here tonight,” the lady from Entertainment Tonight greeted them with a smile, “you two look stunning—who are you wearing?”

“These are custom pieces from Donatella Versace herself,” smoothing a hand down his chest, Y/n gave Natasha a twirl to show off her gown. “It’s the Grammy’s so you know we had to roll in nothing but the best.”

“As you should—we love to see it. Let me be the one of many congratulations on your recent engagement,” the couple grinned, thanking her while the camera panned to Nat’s ring. “You two have been together for four years, correct?”

“Going on four this year. But if you count when we were teenagers then about seven,” Winking, Y/n sees Nat blush once more, the reporter lovin the juicy details.

“That’s right, you two were high school sweethearts. How was it when you guys rekindled, did it feel like it was back then or sorta fresh?”

Natasha answered this time, “A mix of both really. We had been good friends as kids that blossomed into young love before fate took us separate ways. When we reunited it was almost like meeting a different person while also feeling the sense of familiarity within them. If that makes sense,” she laughs at the end.

“I agree, but then again I know not to disagree with this one,” Y/n teases, tickling Nat’s side to make her giggle. The reporter and cameras were eating it up. Y/n brings his fiancée closer to him, “We gotta thank our buddy, aka my old flame turned bestie, Rooster, who brought us back together. That’s not his actual name by the way,” the rockstar laughs at the perplexed expression of the reporter, “He is not named after a male chicken.”

“Old flame?” She hums curiously, “by that do you mean your ex?”

Y/n feels his publicist tap him on the shoulder, signaling it was time to go to the next interviewer. Squeezing Nat’s hand, he smirks to the camera, “He prefers to be called, ‘long-term booty call,’.” With that he spun on his heel to escort Nat away, chuckling at the lady’s jaw dropping at the answer. Beside him, Nat playfully tsks, “Bradshaw’s never gonna forget that.”

“Oh he loves it.”

If you asked the 36 year old rockstar that his once fling with a hot asipiring Naval aviator would lead him to his teenage love, Y/n would’ve told you, “This ain’t a fucking romance story. But I love the optimism.”

Traveling back in time while he goes through the many reporters and photographers, Y/n could still picture the once young 15-year old smitten with the girl next door who was his best friend. What was supposed to be a pact between the two of each other’s first kiss, turned into something more than was once a fantasy to them. Both harboring crushes without saying anything until the feelings after the kiss became too much and they were spilling the confessions at the same time.

“I like you—.”

“Wait—what?”

“You serious right now?” Cue a passionate kiss seconds later. The two over the moon in what could only be described as a teenage dream happening before their eyes. Endless nights of sneaking out without their parents knowing to cuddle and skateboard down the quiet streets, exchanging kisses while the stars danced above them. Stares from their peers in school were envious on both ends. Girls jealous that Nat was with the resident bad boy they all desired to have while guys couldn’t believe Y/n pulled the girl of their dreams.

They were complete opposites.

Y/n with his gages, ripped 80s band t-shirts and chains with highlights in his hair. Kids would call him names because he liked makeup, painted his nails and often wore large shirts as dresses with heeled boots. He wasn’t afraid to call people out on their bullshit even if they were figures of authority and was open about loving people regardless of what rested between their legs. While he was smart he didn’t care much for school but still did what he had to do though it was half ass.

Then you had Natasha, captain of the color guard and member of the JROTC drill team. Every year she was elected the president or VP of the class’s student council, claiming student body president of her senior class. Popular wasn’t the right term for her. Nat was well known throughout the school by name but she wasn’t someone who surrounded herself with a lot of friends. Not to mention she wasn’t the typical stuck up bitch people associated with popularity. Kind and nurtured, Nat was the type to welcome new students and offer tutoring to those in need. She was the top student in all her classes, rumored to be the Valedictorian when she graduated and crowned homecoming Queen.

Two sides of a coin, while Natasha was the one everyone saw making it big in the world, people believed Y/n would be a lost cause in the world. His grades were the bare minimum, test scores lacking when it came to college applications and showed no interest in pursuing higher education. Really the only thing he enjoyed was music class and showed talent in English when they were in poetry lessons. His teacher once said, “These are like songs, Y/n. I’m amazed with how lyrically beautiful they are,” she reads over the lines before handing the paper back to him, “Have you ever thought of going to music school?”

“I would if my family could afford it and if it was a guarantee my work would make it big. But it’s not so why waste my time and money.” Was always his answer.

His girlfriend on the other hand had every teacher offering to write letters of recommendation. Her ACT and SAT scores were exceeding, qualifying for Ivy League schools like Harvard and Princeton. Any university Nat applied to was met with an acceptance letter, the one bringing her most joy from the Naval Academy.

It was already common knowledge to Y/n that Nat wanted to be a pilot. Ever since they were kids she was talking about planes and flying. She was one of those kids who loved going to the airport when her family went on vacation that required them flying. One time she even asked to see the cockpit and was captivated by all the controls the pilots were telling her about. Then the local air show took place at the nearby naval base, securing the dream for Natasha she was determined to achieve.

So when the summer after graduation ended, both knew what was coming.

“We’ve got each other on MySpace,” her voice is soft, keeping her eyes on him while her family finished packing up the car with her belongings. “We can write letters and send emails. Maybe even plan a visit some time?”

“Yeah,” Y/n agrees, matching her tone. Hands in his pockets, he tries not to show how heartbroken he is. It was a mutual breakup so it shouldn’t hurt too much, but when it’s your first love you’re saying goodbye to the impact is lasting. “Even if we fall off, Nat, just know I’m always rooting for you. You were made for something more than this shitty place.”

“So are you,” she counters. “You act like you have nothing going for you now that school is over, but Y/n you have so much talent. You should really try to find a band or intern at some label—no matter how small. Maybe someone will see your work. I’m rooting for you too, you know?”

“I know, Natty. I’ll think about it. You just focus on becoming the best damn pilot the Navy has ever seen. We’ll see what fate has planned for me.”

Off to the Academy, Nat shed tears as the image of her now ex-boyfriend got smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. She could only hope they would stay in contact, or cross paths in the future, but for now she had a mission to do.

Out of school and with little to his name, Y/n packed up everything he owned and moved to New York City. There he found an ad for a roommate with a bunch of guys who attended Pratt Institute, which just so happened to be above a music store. Quickly he secured a job at the shop and worked as many days as he could to save up for equipment to start making his own music.

Unfortunately he and Natasha did fall off like he expected. It pained him to admit he wasn’t surprised, but when the two of them were on completely opposite sides of the spectrum and lives going separate paths, it was bound to happen. All he hoped was for her to be having a great time at the Academy. That she would have all her dreams come true. From the sidelines he was her cheerleader.

After a couple years of working at the store, however, the shop owners Y/n had become close to eventually allowed him to borrow some instruments they had that were not for sale—so long as he did not fuck them up. Originally Y/n planned to make mock music videos for his songs and upload them to the buzzing video sharing website YouTube.

What he didn’t plan for was his boss contacting a buddy of his who happened to work at Def Jam Records after Y/n showed him his demo for ‘Giving Up The Gun.’

“Y/n, come here real quick,” Alan called him over from behind the register, the 21-year-old noticing he was with a man in a suit. The man appeared to be the same age as Alan, shaking Y/n’s hand when he introduced himself, “The name's Dale Kingston. You must be Y/n, Alan has told me a lot about you.”

“Hello, Sir,” he politely replies, glancing over to Alan with a raised brow. “Forgive me, but he’s never mentioned me to you.” The two men lightly laugh.

“Nah I wouldn’t put it past him too. Old man likes to keep everything about him mysterious.”

“I don’t who you’re calling old,” Alan quips back playfully, “Anyway, Y/n. Dale and I go way back—we were roommates in college actually. And while I made a career of sharing the art of music by opening my businesses, Dale ended up making a career of looking for the next best talent in the industry. He’s an exec at Def Jam Records,” Y/n felt his bulge open, flickering to Dale who nodded as Alan’s lips rose to a smirk. “And I sent him what you showed me. Hope you don’t mind, but Dale would like to talk to you if you’re alright with it.”

In just one hour of conversing, Dale left Y/n with his business card and a meeting with his team at their headquarters in Manhattan that weekend. Bursting through the door of his apartment, Y/n’s roommates flinched at the sudden sound, “Get up motherfuckers we’re going out tonight!!!” At the popular gay bar just up the street from where they lived, Y/n and his roommates celebrated with drinks and made out with strangers while dancing to Rihanna and Lady Gaga blasting through the speakers.

“Yo, Y/n/n, that hottie in the Hawaiian shirt is totally eye fucking you right now.”

“Well hot damn,” he hummed in delight, making eye contact with said hottie in a Hawaiian shirt. ‘Oh I’m going home with him tonight.’

The hottie in the Hawaiian shirt was named Bradley Bradshaw. A total stud, he rocked the 80s pornstache like no other and a body Y/n wanted to lick sugar off of. He was a native of Virginia who was visiting New York with some of his friends to celebrate his impending entrance to the Naval Academy.

Y/n found this as they basked in the afterglow of their hot session following the bar, “Wait, you’re going to the Naval academy? This fall?”

“Yup,” Bradley proudly states, “It sucks though cause I’ll be the oldest in my class. I’m about to be twenty-two and I’ll be surrounded by eighteen and nineteen year olds.”

“Why is that?” At Bradley’s changed expression, Y/n quickly takes the question back. “Nevermind, don’t tell me if you don’t want to. Shit, I just made it awkward.”

“No-no-no,” Bradley chuckles, placing his beer down on the nightstand. “It’s okay—just I am still bitter about it as you can tell. My uh…the guy who was like a father to me after my dad died pulled my application when I initially sent it in high school.” The confession has Y/n frown, feeling the wave of sadness and resentment radiate off of Bradley.

“That fucking wasn’t right. Did he ever tell you why?”

“No. He wouldn’t when I confronted him,” he rubs his jaw, “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Switching things up so as to not further upset Bradley, Y/n asks, “What are you going for?” This brings light to the man, a smile coating his face.

“Aeronautical engineering.”

Something in Y/n’s stomach flipped, “Oh wow…are you wanting to be a pilot?” Surprise now takes over, Bradley raising a brow as asks how he knew. Y/n lights a blunt, taking a deep inhale to prepare him for explaining. He would’ve offered Bradley it but now knowing he was going to a military academy it was best not to.

“My ex girlfriend is there for the same. In fact…she should be graduating next spring,” he sighs out the smoke, feeling the ease fill his veins as memories of Natasha play in his mind. “Being a pilot was all she ever dreamed of. It’s why she worked so hard in school to meet the requirements for the program. Valedictorian, Cadet Colonel of the JROTC unit—we had Air Force not Navy though,” he specified at Bradley’s tilt of the head of the ranks. “We broke up just before she moved into the dorms. It was mutual, no hard feelings at all. She was going places and at the time I wasn’t.”

“And now you’re going places?” Bradley wondered aloud. Lips lifting in a smirk, Y/n simply replied, “Let’s sure fucking hope so.”

The rest of the night was filled with small talk and discussions about each other’s hopeful future. Y/n filled Bradley in on his dreams of music and how he was meeting with execs from Def Jam. Bradley was leaving back to Virginia soon but they promised to meet up again and keep in touch. They continued to hook up a few more times after that night and even went on a few dates, but after a couple months they realized they were better off as friends. Just like with Natasha, Y/n didn’t want to tie Bradley down or expect something serious when he was just starting his Naval career.

Plus, his own dreams were just getting started.

“That was ‘Giving Up The Gun,’ by an upcoming artist from Def Jam Records, Y/n L/n. The twenty-one year old from Scottsdale, Arizona seems to be giving a new voice to rock music, throwing in elements of pop and techno that we’ve gotten lucky to hear from his newly released EP. Critics and fans have already started labeling him the next David Bowie due to his colorful hair and outfits while not being afraid to wear glitter eyeshadow and lipstick. For those of us in the studio, we’re looking forward to what Y/n has to offer the music world.”

An EP became an album. One that hit the top of the charts in its first few weeks and established Y/n as the next rock n roll bad boy. Winning Best New Artist at the VMAs and AMAs, the early 2010s had Y/n’s name written all over it. Appearances on Good Morning America and the Ellen Degeneres Show. New York became his base of operation and soon Y/n embraced the high life he was getting from making it big. Rooster and him met up often to celebrate each milestone, the two growing closer as the years went on.

The next big break came in 2011 when Y/n was offered features on the Twilight Saga Breaking Dawn Part 2 soundtracks. ‘Where I Come From’ & ‘The Antidote’ were huge successes. He couldn’t believe he was walking the red carpet of a Hollywood premier when the film was released. And Lord was Robert Pattinson a sight for sore eyes. Kristen too. The soundtrack went on to receive a Grammy nomination with Y/n winning at the Teen Choice Awards the next summer. A world tour shortly after, Y/n fell in love with the road and meeting fans every night from across the globe.

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the fan casts people made of him. Anytime it was announced a book was getting an adaptation, he was always what people pictured as the bad boy/sexy villain.

But acting wasn’t something Y/n was interested in. Personally he felt like he couldn’t act for shit and wouldn’t handle 12 hour work days or having to move every few months for a new project. New York was his home, with L.A being his second, and music was his life.

By 2016 Y/n had really made a name of himself in the music world. He was featured on more film soundtracks like Fast & The Furious 7 and Deadpool. Rock music got a new wave of fans. Y/n even changed it up a bit by collaborating with pop artists and rappers. ‘These Streets’ was well received by critics and fans, earning Y/n his third Grammy nomination that he had yet to win.

“You’re gonna get this year, Y/n/n,” Rooster assured him, passing a beer as they sat on the lounge chairs overlooking the beaches of Virginia. “If you don’t then they’re fucking out of their mind. Your hits this year were amazing—top of the charts and platinum in weeks! I’ll boycott them next year if they don’t give it to you.”

Unfortunately Rooster would have to make due with that promise for a few years.

Y/n didn’t want to say he cared about winning a Grammy. But truth be told he did wish he could say that of the nearly seven nominations he had received by 2019, he got a win. Whether it was Record of The Year or Album of The Year, it seemed the golden trophy was out of his reach. Whenever it was brought up in interviews he would brush it off saying, “I’m honored to have been recognized just from my nominations, but I don’t believe it should dictate how I am as an artist.”

One day he hoped to be standing on the stage, holding the award and thanking his loved ones and team who were just as much of winners as he was. But only time would tell.

Speaking of time, it seemed to work in mysterious ways.

A phone call from Rooster in December of 2019 had Y/n clad in a stunning suit appropriate for a Military ball and on his way to meet some of the pilots colleagues. It was to be a celebratory event to commemorate the group of Top Gun alumni in their successful mission stopping a uranium enrichment plant from becoming operational. Y/n had been very worried when Bradley informed him of the assignment. He was overseas finishing up his tour so one could imagine the anxiety he felt at the possibility his best friend could die.

Bradley picked Y/n up from his hotel in San Diego, the two having a quick pregame before arriving at the venue to the shell-shocked faces of the officers. Mickey, who was introduced as Fanboy, could barely make out words. Javy and Jake were looking at each other with expressions that read, “what the actual fuck?”, while Payback took a moment to be like ‘woah’ and proceed to act like Y/n was just a regular person.

“So how do you two know each other?” Jake was the first to ask what everyone was thinking. It wasn’t everyday one learns their rival-turned-friend was casually best friends with one of the best modern rock stars of their generation. Then he choked on his beer when Y/n simply replied, “We used to hook up.”

The questions rolled off from there.

“Wait, you two were together?”

“And you stayed friends?”

“Hold the phone, I need some details.”

After taking time to answer the questions, Rooster takes the moment to ask, “Where’s Phoenix and Bob?” This has Y/n raise his brow, not knowing who either were. Rooster had only briefly mentioned his colleagues to him, but never really explained who they were or how they met. He liked to keep his work life separate from his personal life.

Payback answered, “they’re on the way. I think Bob mentioned his Dress Blues were lost in the cleaners so he had to scramble to get a tux.”

“Damn. Well let’s get some drinks ready for when they get here.”

To say Y/n’s jaw about hit the floor when his eyes landed on Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace was an understatement. In fact he had to rub his eyes just to make sure it was really her he was seeing. The same could be said for Natasha, who’s own eyes were bulging from her skull.

“Nat?”

“Y/n/n?’

Now everyone was looking between the two. “You two know each other too?”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, “Well if this isn’t a small world, then I don’t know what is.” A sudden feeling he couldn’t describe washed over him. He turns to Rooster to whisper under his breath, “You remember my high school girlfriend I once told you about?” Now it’s the pilot whose eyes are wide.

“Nat’s your high school sweetheart?” The exclamation could pretty much be heard through the entire venue, the daggers all showing faces of shock.

“Yup,” Y/n pops the ‘p’, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “She sure is.” Facing Nat, he bites his lip and says, “Uh, how have you been, Nat? It’s been like….I wanna say ten…fifteen years?”

“Just about, yeah,” Nat blushes, unsure how to respond. But how does one respond when they’re faced with their high school sweetheart who was a best selling rockstar? “I’ve been good. I would ask the same, but I’ve been following your career since you debuted.”

“You have?” Y/n was surprised by this. “Wow, um thank you. I see you were just as successful in your endeavors.” It comes to his mind that Natasha was the person Bradley always referred to as Phoenix in his stories. “Bradley’s told me a lot about you…but I never thought to ask what the name of ‘Phoenix’ was. Possibly I would've reunited with you sooner if I did.”

Nat takes the drink Y/n hands to her with a thanks, “You know when he mentioned he was good friends with someone named Y/n that he used to be involved with, I just assumed it was someone who shared a name with you. I didn’t think to ask further.”

“Eh, I don't blame you. I felt the instant awkwardness at the realization you and him share an ex.” Gesturing for the two to sit at a table away from the others, Y/n shared a look with Bradley and saw him biting back a laugh at his words. Nat on the other hand appeared a little flustered.

“How long were you together?” She cringed at how awful the question sounded. Why the fuck did she need to know? Her and Y/n had been broken up for years. It’s not like they were going to just pick things back up where they left off.

“Oh only a couple months. We realized we were better off as friends—especially since he was going off to the Academy and I had just been signed. To be honest,” Y/n paused to sip his beer, “it was mostly just the physical attraction we needed to get out of the way. It was great while it lasted but it never felt like it could become something more.” He made sure to not add the tiny fact he still had feelings for Natasha at the time.

Well maybe he still did. Lord knows being next to her was giving him those schoolboy feelings again.

The two talked almost the entire night. And then when the ball was done and the team migrated to The Hard Deck, they continued to stay close to each other. Nat told Y/n all about her years at the Academy and making it to fight school. Becoming one of the few female aviators and an alumni of the prestigious Fighter Weapons School before ending with the details about the mission she did with Rooster.

“It was the most intense thing I had ever been a part of,” she explained. “I’ve seen some crazy shit in all the years I’ve been flying. But this mission was beyond my limit—I-I still can’t believe we managed to pull it off.”

“I’m really proud of you, Nat,” Y/n’s smile was genuine, filled with sincerity. “Rooster told me about what he could, and hearing your side just makes me so grateful you guys came home.”

Y/n gave Nat all the juicy details of his high life in the music industry. How his boss was friends with an executive from Def Jam and was basically the reason he got discovered. He couldn’t help but laugh when Nat admitted she bought his albums and would watch the award shows he attended.

“I’m just so happy for you!” She defended with a playful shove. “After I heard you made it big of course I was going to support you anyway I could. You were also featured in Twilight and I happened to be obsessed with it when it came out so I was very excited to see you were featured on the soundtrack. Call me biased but ‘The Antidote’ and ‘Where I Come From’ are my favorites you’ve ever released.”

By the end of the night…or nearly morning because the time was pushing 4 am, Y/n and Nat parted ways with the promise of meeting up for coffee that weekend.

Neither went into things expecting anything to happen. As adults they simply wanted to see how things played out and if being friends could be possible. They didn’t end on bad terms which was good in itself. So why not try to make a friendship?

Well when a global pandemic hits when you and your ex are hanging out that results in you two having to go through quarantine together….close proximity can result in things neither planned for.

It first started out with simple compliments and the two watching movies together. Then it progressed to acts of service where Y/n would bring Natasha lunch or coffee when she was remotely working from home. For weeks this happened with both battling feelings beginning to resurface. Natasha tried to brush it off like a teenage crush. That she was being a hopeless romantic at the thought she and Y/n could possibly date again.

Would it be different now that they were adults? It’s not like they were kids again. Both were in successful careers that they worked hard for. Both were financially stable and would live comfortably when they retire in thirty or so years. Nat was a Lieutenant, and likely had a promotion lined up within the next year. And Y/n was working on new music so there was nothing he was too worried about.

After almost three months of dancing around feelings, one night the two were having dinner when the topic was brought up.

“Nat,” Y/n starts with a sigh. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this.” Her face falls to a frown, looking away as her heart picks up pace.

“Put up with what exactly?”

“Pretending like I don’t want to hold you in my arms. Like I don’t want to kiss you on the forehead before you fall asleep or tell you how you’re the most important person in my life. Since I was fifteen I’ve loved you and the reason no relationship I’ve had after has worked is because I’m so hung up on you.”

When he contemplates if he made the mistake confessing, he’s suddenly around the kitchen island to bring Nat into a searing kiss when she says, “What if I told you, you don’t have to pretend anymore?”

Their love felt natural. They already had a taste of it as teenagers. Now as adults it was busting like a rocket ship. That deep, immense feeling of love one can’t even begin to describe. Like the person was their air and kept them to the Earth.

Bradley was over the moon when they told. Really he was the first to find out the second they decided to make it official. He was Y/n’s best friend after all and Nat was the closest he had to a sister. Although he and the rockstar had history, Rooster would never let it be an issue and supported the two wholeheartedly. “It’s about damn time!” He yelled over the FaceTime call. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen since the night of the ball!”

It didn’t take long for the world to find out the resident bad boy of rock music was off the market. Hearts broke but many were happy for Y/n. Lots of fans actually thought it was the most adorable thing that he was back with his high school sweetheart after fifteen years of being apart. Natasha became well loved among his supporters and although she didn’t have much of a social media presence, she was always met with positivity. Anytime there was a rude ‘fan’ she would just block them without giving any attention.

“I’m a fucking pilot,” she rolled her eyes at the comment of how she was only with Y/n for money and his status. “They act like I didn’t make something for myself or have a career.”

“You tell ‘em, babe,” Y/n praises from the side, causing Nat to playfully roll her eyes.

2021 and 2022 were met with several milestones. Natasha was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and Y/n released his fifth studio album. Planning to go on tour in the summer of 2022, the couple went on a much needed vacation to celebrate their two year anniversary and relax after constant nonstop work in their lives.

“I could get used to this,” the pilot hummed in content, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on her skin. The gentle sound of the ocean waves was soothing to her ears. Beside her Y/n laid on his stomach with a book in his hands while music played on the speaker. “Maybe I’ll just stay here while you go off to see the world.”

He snorted, “I’ll be jealous if you do.” Patting her thigh, he closed the book and threw it to the side. Cracking open two bottles of beer, he handed one to Nat, clicking the glass with her, “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Happy anniversary to you, mister. Thank you for this.”

“Anything for my baby.”

The tour was a success and Natasha even managed to fly out for a few shows. Fans loved it when she did because she’d stand in the crowd to sing and dance with supporters rather than be in the VIP section or just off the stage. It was almost as though Natasha was the star of the concert rather than Y/n. Every show she attended the camera would be put on her at some point so the rockstar could dedicate his song, ‘Girl Almighty’ to her. He had written it just shortly after the two got back together, the woman instantly tearing up after she first heard the final product.

Fans would go crazy during the set, mostly because Y/n would come to where Natasha was at and get on his knees to sing the line, “I’d get down, I’d get down, I’d get down on my knees for you.” Then he’d hold a cup of water in the air, the crowd doing the same with their own drinks, for, “Let’s have another toast for the girl almighty. Let’s pray we stay young, stay made of lightning.”

Oh and let’s not forget about ‘No Control’…..a fan favorite that had Natasha blushing mad red like a tomato when Y/n wrote it. “I cannot believe you wrote that!”

“You love it, don’t lie.”

She really did though. It was a catchy beat and of course it made her heart skip that Y/n’s work was influenced by her and their relationship. It only made her love him more.

“Stained coffee cup. Just a fingertip of lipstick’s not enough. Sweet (ooh), where you lay (ooh). Still a trace of innocence on the pillow case.”

The audience of his shows would be in a frenzy. Nott a single person was not on their feet belting out the lyrics to the chorus. And Natasha was at the center with the most energy.

“Waking up. Beside you, I’m a loaded gun. I can’t contain this anymore. I’m all yours, I’ve got no control. No control! Powerless, and I don’t care, It’s obvious. I just can’t get enough of you. The pedal’s down, my eyes are closed. No control!”

Birthdays and holidays passed and before they knew it they were ringing in 2023. It wasn’t just a celebration of the new year and the release of Y/n’s single ‘Beggin’’, but also what the future would hold for him and Natasha after the rockstar got down on one knee and presented the love of his life with a gorgeous ring, “Baby, you know I’m not one to believe in superstition where fate works in mysterious ways. But when I look at how life took us apart only to bring us together, I can’t help but wonder if it truly exists. Fans like to call us ‘twin flames’ and honestly I think they’re on to something. Natasha, you’re my best friend. My one true love. The person I was meant to be with. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

They announced their engagement just before the Grammy awards. All over the news the story was being covered, fans buzzing with excitement for the couple.

@ badboy_Y/n: My favorites are engaged!!! Natasha’s ring is so beautiful omg I can’t wait to see the wedding!

@ onmykneesforyou: Natasha and Y/n are the reason I believe in love honestly—I’ll ascend to heaven if they ever break up.

@ SelenaGomez✔️: congratulations to my lovely friends @badboyY/n and @IAmPhoenix on their engagement! So so happy for you two!

@ MTV✔️: Stop my parents are getting married. I am screaming right now!

The night of the Grammy’s Y/n was filled with nerves. He usually was when it came to award shows, however this was different because he was up for Record of The Year, Song of The Year, and Album of the Year with a performance with the iconic Red Hot Chili Peppers. Thankfully Natasha was there to help ease it. She hadn’t attended many since their relationship started due to her job, but the ones she did made it a hell of a lot easier for the rockstar. Getting the red carpet and interviews out of the way, the two made their way inside. There they greeted several of Y/n’s friends and took pictures with celebs they admired. Nat had to hold back fangirling a bit when Ariana Grande and The Weekend approached.

“You look amazing!” Ariana gushed, taking in the stunning outfit Nat wore. “It’s so nice to finally meet you—I love your weekly newsletter you do about all the books you’ve read and places you’ve visited. I think it’s so cool what you do.”

Nat struggled to get words out. Here was THE Ariana Grande, world renowned popstar complimenting her and saying what she did was cool.

They took pictures with Ariana hoping to catch her at the after party before it was time for everyone to take their seats. The whole time Y/n held Nat’s hand or placed his on her thigh, only letting go when it was time to clap. Physical touch was his love language and it never failed to make Natasha feel loved and appreciated.

When it came time for Y/n to perform Beggin’ with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Natasha was on her feet and dancing like she was the only one in the room. Hell, even Taylor Swift, Lizzo, and Harry Styles were dancing with her. “That’s my man!!” She yelled over the cheers when Y/n finished, blowing a kiss when they made eye contact. “I love you!!”

About two hours into the show, it finally came time for the big three.

Y/n cheered when Lizzo won Record of the Year….and about shit his pants when his name was called for Song of The Year.

“Wait, what?” He literally said as Nat jumped up from her seat with a scream, pulling him up to embrace. “Did—did he just say—.”

“You baby! You!”

Artists around him were on their feet, Harry Styles whistling against the uproar of the crows. His heart was racing and tears threatened to fall. It felt like a haze for the rockstar, a slight tremor in his hands as he took the award being handed to him. Then when he faced the crowd he was met with a standing ovation. Fucking Beyoncé was applauding with a grin. Y/n was absolutely speechless at the realization.

For the first time in nine nominations, he finally had a Grammy.

“Holy shit,” were his immediate words. “Wow.” People were still screaming so Y/n took the time to connect eyes with Natasha. She was in visible joy, wiping away a stray tear before clasping her hands together in front of her mouth.

“I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for years it seems like—a-and I didn’t really think it was possible,” he paused briefly to glance at the trophy. “First I want to thank the Recording Academy for this honor. To everyone at Def Jam Records and those who’ve been with me since the start of my career—I can’t thank you enough. Shoutout to you Alan if you’re watching. You are the reason I’m standing on this stage—thank you for believing in me and to Dale for giving me the opportunity to share my music with the world. To my family back home and my friends, your support through the years is what’s kept me going.” Y/n smiled, thinking about Rooster and the guys, wishing he could see their reaction.

“And lastly, to the woman who’s my partner in crime. My muse. My best friend since ten years old and the love of my life. Natasha,” he connects eyes with her teary face, noticing how a cameraman had moved closer to her. “I love you so much. Thank you for your love and support. For believing in me and being my shoulder to cry on when the days get tough. You are everything a man could ask for and I’m so blessed to have the honor of being your fiancé. I can’t wait to marry you and see where life takes us. This award is for you, baby.”

Blowing a kiss to Nat, who blows one back, Y/n quickly ends with, “Thank you to everyone here tonight and at home who’s listened to my music and played ‘Beggin’’. Much love to you all—thank you thank you!” He finished just in time when the band started to play to signal his time was up. Y/n was met with open arms from Natasha when he returned to his seat, the rockstar lifting her in the air causing her to burst into giggles.

“Congratulations, baby,” she kissed him on the lips, careful not to ruin his lipstick. “I’m so proud of you—you deserve everything, Y/n.”

“Thank you, my love,” he kisses her again, then gives a wink. “Can’t wait for us to celebrate tonight.” He smirks at the blush that takes over her face.

Together they cheered for Harry after he won Album of the Year and after one last performance the show came to an end. Y/n, Harry, and Lizzo all posed for pictures and Y/n was hauled away for more interviews post ceremony. Finally they were set free to the after party, where the two basically stole the spotlight.

Dancing to the previous year’s hits and songs of the nominees, Natasha and Y/n partied like they were young and wild and free. They did shots with Adele, danced with Ariana Grande, sang with Lil Nas X. It was the time of their lives.

When it all ended Y/n escorted Nat to their ride, her right hand in his left while his right carried her heels, the two giggling like children as they ran down the hallway. Before they exited the venue Y/n brought Nat into a passionate kiss, dipping her slightly causing her to laugh. “I love you, Natasha. So much, you know?” His tone was filled with so much love it nearly took her breath away.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Yeah fate was something not everyone could agree with. But one thing was for sure when it came to Y/n and Natasha. Like the Phoenix, their love rose from the ashes.

……………..

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black

#Spotify #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace imagine #natasha trace x y/n #natasha trace #lt natasha phoenix trace #phoenix imagine #phoenix x reader #phoenix x you #natasha phoenix trace #Natasha trace x male!reader #male!reader #rockstar!reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun Maverick #monica barbaro

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lightwing-s · 2 years ago

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the batboys as 2000s pop hits (female vers.)

as requested by @igotanidea, the batboys' favorite songs for the 2000s

A timeless classic, just like himself, Dick still blasts Umbrella by Rihanna on the last volume, even after 15 years. As soon as the song comes out, be prepared, he’ll put in a performance. Once, while on patrol, D was going through the usual job of running around Gotham's skyline when he stopped atop a club at the exact moment this song started playing. Not only that, but it was raining. Oh, no! He delivered on that rooftop an unforgettable performance *think Tom Holland on Lip Sync battle, but even more extra (and sexier)* to countless drunk people waiting to get into the club, and an incredulous Jason staring at him from the other building. No need to say, but there was a round of applause after. He was all over twitter that night, and let’s say the entire family had to do their best to not start hating Rihanna’s entire discography after his nonstop singing through the night.

Jason and Oops… I did it again is maybe an unlikely pairing, but man does he love a good prime Britney. He knows every lyric, including the ad libs, and he sings, like legit sings it, but he needs to be alone to do so. He’s not immune to embarrassment like Dick and he’s definitely not letting any of his siblings know he’s a Britney fan. So he mostly does it when he’s training on his own. He uses his water bottle or a weight (he’s strong as shit, we know it) as a mic and when his favorite part comes through the speakers, that incredible bridge, he goes all out. Oops I… *Oh!* Did it again to your heaaaart… got lost *uh uh* ~head turns ~ in this game, oh babyyyyy! He wore #FreeBritney shirts everywhere for a while, but told other he was supportive of the cause only. The siblings pretended to believe it, and were not shocked to see this song make it on his Spotify Wrapped.

When I Grow Up is Tim’s childhood letter to Batman and his dream of being like him some day. And considering where he got now, it has a special meaning to him. “Be careful what you wish for, ‘cause you just might get it”, right? This song is too hype for him to stay in his place when it starts playing, even if he won’t perform it like Dick or sing like Jason (yes, he definitely saw the surveillance tapes), but he’s for sure moving his body in some awkward, but happy, way. Normalize being a bad dancer and still dancing anyways. The family loves to see him like that, and invite themselves to a little dance party whenever it happens. Also, Tim is #TeamMelody.

Was Damian even alive at that time? He’s too young to remember any song, and he also not that into pop music. His brothers think he's lame for that and picked a song for him themselves: Diva by Beyonce. Dami would have got upset if wasn’t for the fact that the song slaps. *Beyoncé is the best performer of that generation, just like I am the best Robin!*

+ b o n u s

Bruce loves Rich Girl and the fact he has done, bought and owned every single thing Gwen mentions in the song. He is that bitch.

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my-northern-downpour · 5 years ago

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Maribat March day 8~Sleepover

all right i think this is the last one. I had these done, but life happened. I wasn’t quite sure where i was going with this but it’s still cute!

@maribat-march2020

AO3

It was a summer to remember. Marinette had become famous overnight when her Uncle Jagged ‘accidentally’ named her as his most Rock n’ Roll designer. Her commissions flooded overnight with everyone wanting an MDC original. She was shocked to see Adrien and Chloe amongst them, but almost died when she saw that Beyonce, Brendon Urie, and members from the Jonas Brothers had sent in a request. She did die when she got to meet said musical celebrities and they praised her work in private and publicly, reinforcing Jagged’s compliments about her and clothing.

She had gotten over her crush on Adrien for two reasons. The first was when she realized her crush was getting nowhere and she enjoyed having him as a friend. The sealing deal was when Adrien came out as gay(and super gay at that). She jumped ship from crushing on him to talking boys and how cute they were in a heartbeat. Alya would have been jealous except now her and Marinette were trying to set Adrien up on blind dates with guys they thought were worthy of their sunshine friend.

That was the summer Marinette had turned 15. A lot happened that summer that she would forever remember. One of the best things to happen though, was running into the Wayne’s at a Gala she went to with Jagged. To make a long story somewhat short....

Mari went with Jagged, who gushed about her all night and how amazing she was. Marinette, who doesn’t take praise very well, was overwhelmed and blushing the whole night. She managed to escape down a quiet hallway and ran directly into the youngest member of the Wayne family, although she didn’t know that at first. Damian instantly liked the girl who had almost knocked him over. She had no idea who he was and was treating him like any normal person. Marinette was relieved that he didn’t know who she was either and wasn’t asking her a million questions about her commissions. The two spent the rest of the night talking, exchanged numbers, and met up the next day before they parted ways to head home. It was only when a picture appeared in a tabloid that someone sent to Marinette about “WHO’S THE NEW GIRL NEXT TO DAMIAN??”

Needless to say she had a mini heart attack before Tikki calmed her down. The rest is history as the two have kept in contact long enough to have been dating for the past two years. Marinette, now 22, and Damian,23, have spent the night at each other’s own apartments before. Mari seemed to be spending more time at Damian’s than there own apartment, but that’s a story for another time.

Tonight was special. Damian had disclosed that he had never really had a sleepover as a kid. There was no staying up all night talking with your friends, no midnight sugar rushes, and most devastating of them all, no pillow forts. So tonight, she had a plan and she was prepared. She had all the Harry Potter movies to marathon, pizza was being delivered at 9pm, all the sugary confections from her parents’ bakery, and every last pillow and blanket she could find in her apartment. Damian was told to bring some over as well. They were set.

Damian arrived at 8:30 on the dot, just expecting to curl up with some movies and cuddle on the couch. Nothing out of the ordinary. Instead, he was bombarded with an overwhelming smell of sugar, chocolate, and raspberry. Marinette was sitting in the living room, surrounded by blankets and pillows and a big grin on her face.

“Angel,” he questioned,”what’s going on here?”

“Having a proper sleep over,” is all she said and threw some blankets at him. “Come here! We need to build the fort before the pizza gets here!”

And so began the night of blanket fort building, sugar highs, and staying up till ungodly hours watching Harry Potter. Damian debated on whether or not that type of magic was real or not with Marinette, who only kept saying that magic was real. No ifs ands or buts about it. The blanket fort collapsed on them in the middle of a heated argument over who got the last raspberry macaroon. Mari was able to swiftly steal the treat, with help from Tikki, before Damian even got free.

And to end an otherwise perfect sleepover, Marinette decided to give Damian a little makeover. When he finally passed out, she snuck to her room to get her brightest shade of pink nail polish. With a bit of good luck, he didn’t wake at all while she painted his toes and fingernails pink. It wouldn’t be a sleepover without some kind of makeover right?

She snuggled up next to Damian under their fort and fell asleep, knowing in the morning there would be a confused Damian with pink nails wondering around looking for the acetone to remove it. She’d hid that too. A smile graced her face as she dozed off, giggling at how her morning would turn out.

#maribat #maribatmarch2020 #maridami #daminette #hella late entry #fluff #my writing

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mrsrhys23 · 5 years ago

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Inconvenience

Paring: Colt x MC

Warnings: None

A/N 1: This is for a request it got using the prompts: “I’m hopeless, and awkward and desperate for love!” and “What a small world!” “And yet I never run in to Beyoncé.” From Chandler Bing prompts

A/N 2: This is sat in an AU where Colt and Ellie meet in a different way.

A/N 3: All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Permatag; @desireepow-1986 @cordoniaqueensworld

ROD tags: @lovehugsandcandy @troublemakerinspace

—

Ellie had just arrived back at her apartment building, her feet had started to ache from the heels she had been wearing all day.

She headed in the building, pressing the button to summon the elevator. She could of course take the stairs but her feet felt like they were going to fall off. She heard the door open behind her, she looked over her shoulder to see a tall, broad shouldered, black haired guy strolling in, busy scrolling on his phone. She had seen him before, he lived on the floor above her. She wouldn't deny that she may have had a teeny, tiny crush on him.

They had only spoken to each other once when a parcel was delivered to his apartment by accident. His name was Clint...no Colt, she decided, at least she thought it was Colt, she knew it definitely started with a ‘C’.

He came to stand beside her, also waiting for the elevator. There was little point in the building having a staircase- nobody ever used it.

She tried to stop peeking at him from the corner of her eye...but he was just so attractive that she found it to be a task.

Finally she heard a ding, signalling the arrival of the metal box as the doors opened. They both headed inside, the doors dinging as they closed. They both stood in silence, Ellie noted that Colt had his ear phones in as he continued scrolling through his phone. He glanced at her and she felt a blush creeping up her neck so turned to look back at the doors.

Suddenly the box came to a sudden halt, nearly sending them flying but both managed to keep their footing. Ellie grumbled some profanities under her breath, all she wanted was to go home and have a hot bath, get into some comfy clothes and relax but the universe seemed to have a hell of a grudge against her and so her plans for a relaxing evening went straight to hell.

Colt pulled his earphones out of his ears, stuffing them into his coat pocket. He tried pressing the button to get it moving again but luck seemed to not want to be on his side today. He then pressed the emergency button and nothing happened.

“I think...we’re a bit trapped then,” Colt said, turning to look at Ellie. She looked down at the floor, trying to hide the fact she was as red as a beetroot.

She might have imagined this...not in a creepy way, although imagine getting trapped in an elevator and kissing your neighbour and then it getting more intimate...no yeah, that was creepy as she thought more about her ‘fantasy’ if you could call it that, her cheeks grew more red.

She cleared her throat as she felt his eyes on her. She looked up to meet his gaze. “Yeah...it definitely looks that way, yeah.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Are you okay?”

“I’m hopeless, and awkward and desperate for love!” she yelled, not exactly sure why, it was just the first thing that came into her head. It was true though.

“...Okay,” he said, rather awkwardly as he nodded his head, turning away from her. He wasn't an idiot, he knew it was either she was very claustrophobic and was nearing a panic attack or he was making her nervous.

Colt moved away from her to stand in the corner, watching as she stayed facing the doors and looked back at him now and again as he pretended not to notice.

“I’m under you- I mean I-I live under you,” Ellie said, breaking the silence as she hid her face in her hands again.

“What a small world.”

“And yet I never run into Beyonce,” She said, turning around to face him. She got a laugh out of him for that. It was true though- she would like to bump into the singer one day.

“I’m Colt by the way.”

“Ellie.”

Colt nodded, clearing his throat, “Do you maybe want to go out sometime?” She could swear her heart just...stopped. She stood there for a long few minutes looking at him. “You don't have to,” Colt said, stuttering slightly under the girls intense stare. “It was only a suggestion.”

She nodded, “Yes. Yeah, that’d be good, I'd like that, when we get out of here obviously,” she said with a nervous chuckle.

“Obviously,” Colt repeated.

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices #colt x ellie #rod fanfiction #rod #ride or die fanfiction #rod ellie #rod colt #requests

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bigsnzstanacct · 5 years ago

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Dr. Brown’s Interdimensional Time Traveling Sneeze Clinic

Another story I wrote, with a concept I found to be a fun frame for doing alien sneeze one-shots. Maybe I’ll bring that back but weirder.

“So, Mr. Ackerman, I’ve got to ask… what exactly is a ‘sneezing emergency?’”

Dr. Brown peered over his glasses at his newest patient, a Mr. Ackerman who’d rushed into his office, with no appointment, and begged to see him, said he’d heard Dr. Brown was the best ENT in the galactic system and that he had, as he said, a “sneezing emergency.” This particular patient appeared to hail from an “earth-like” homeworld, that is, a world that attempted to maintain the culture and practices of the human homeworld in the era immediately before its first contact with the galactic system. Of course that was millennia and millennia ago, but alas, who can argue with traditionalists? Besides, worlds that upheld the culture of some particular historical period or other were actually quite in vogue, though Dr. Brown hardly understood the trend.

“Um, well doc, you see… my allergies are… my sneezes can get… just… when I have to sneeze I get all… and then it… and I hate it but I can’t help… it’s just an emergency doc! You gotta make me stop sneezing.”

Dr. Brown chuckled a bit. He’d certainly never seen a patient so flustered over a few sneezes. On one level, he was a bit shocked that sneezing itself, in all these millennia, had never been eradicated. But sneezing was a shockingly persistent adaptation, consistent in well over 95% of sentient, near-sentient, meta-sentient, and periodically-sentient species, as well as those beings that had “evolved beyond the need for labels, and sentience is a social construct anyway” (which was, in fact, their official designation.)

Bound by his oath to reflect the cultures of all worlds, Dr. Brown offered his patient what relief he could as would be appropriate to Earth circa 2015. Quickly scanning the minds of all doctors on the #DocBrown Network (Dr. Brown was a proud meta-sentient, don’t you know), he arrived at the 2015-Earth-appropriate prescription, and figured he’d deliver the prescription and finish the day in time to catch the televised Beyonce-bot concert: “Well… alright, Mr. Ackerman certainly I can prescribe some medication for seasonal allergies, but of course there’s nothing one hundred percent effective…”

“No, no, you don’t understand doc, I need something one hundred percent effective! I just… I can’t sneeze anymore.”

“You mean… you can’t sneeze… ever again?”

Ackmerman just looked at Dr. Brown, a stupidly eager look on his face that made him look rather like an overgrown puppy.

“Yeah, doc! You got it! No more sneezes for me. Ever again.” A quick look of… consternation, perhaps… passed over Ackerman’s face before he added. “Ever.”

Dr. Brown glanced over his patient. For all that he’d seen rather ridiculous requests over his many years as a time-travelling, species-agnostic, interdimensional, intergalactic ENT specialist (though he preferred the term “atemporal species-agnostic, interdimensional, intergalactic ENT specialist”), he’d never seen someone be quite so… earnest about something so obviously impossible as preventing any and all sneezes.

“Well certainly, son, you understand the impossibility… people sneeze for so many different reasons, not just ones that we can treat, like a cold or allergies.” Quickly performing a biometric scan of his patient, just to confirm his memory of human anatomy, Dr. Brown continued, “Essentially any time anything irritates the tiny hairs inside your nose, that triggers the reaction that we call a sneeze… once the irritation has triggered a reaction, the reaction is, pragmatically speaking, beyond control.”

“Listen, doc, I don’t care you just… you gotta help me, doc, I can’t sneeze anymore. I can’t sneeze ever again, ‘cause when I do it just… when I sneeze it’s… I…”

Dr. Brown wanted to be irritated by the patient’s stammering and inability to get out any real statement, but he found himself curiously sympathetic. Whatever was ailing this young man, it was certainly causing him a great deal of distress. Dr. Brown said as much. “Whatever is ailing you young man, it is certainly causing you a great deal of distress. That much is clear. But whatever it is, I’m going to need you to fully explain the situation. The galaxy…” Mr. Ackerman looked at him irritatedly—OldWorlders hated it when you reminded them of what millennia it was, nevermind that they took intergalactic instantaneous transportation to get to you, if you happened to mention that such a thing would never exist in “their century” they would always respond in a fashion Doc Brown considered unnecessarily snippy, if not out-and-out rude.

Doc Brown took a second before he continued, “The, ah, world of medicine”—and Mr. Ackerman looked mollified—“is full of quirks and oddities,” he said, smiling brightly at the young man in the hopes of encouraging him to open up. “Whatever has happened to you, I am quite confident that others have suffered it as well.”

At that, the boy perked up. “Really? You think that… it’s not just… you think other people have got the uh… the sneezes like I got ‘em?”

“I am sure of it, my boy. Now, just tell me what happened…”

And Mr. Ackerman began to share his story.

--- Well, first off, ah, Doctor, I’ve ah, I’ve always been a big sneezer. Ever since I was a little kid. I couldn’t help it. When something tickled my nose, I had to let it out, full blast. I always heard people doing those little squelchy sneezes, but I never understood it—how can that be satisfying? So I’ve always, um, you know sneezed big.

And then I grew up and, I mean I’m not a small guy you know? I’ve got a big chest, and that means I got big lungs, and I definitely got a big nose, the guys all tell me. I mean look at it it’s like half a foot off of my face, right? Anyway, I got bigger and the sneezes got bigger with me. I started working out. Got stronger. Sneezes got stronger with it. But, you know, nothing weird, nothing out of the ordinary, just, you know, big sneezes.

Plus, you know, I always get those sun sneezes? You know where you’re allergic to the sun? Whenever I walk outside after class I get these great big, “AAAAAAEEEEEESSSSSSSHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” kinda sneezes. I’d walk outside and blast one of those out, and half the people around me would jump ten feet in the air. My buddies, the folks who knew me, they would kid around with me about it, they’d say, “oh there goes a nine-jump sneeze, ladies and gentlemen, a nine-jump sneeze.” That meant, you know, that was a sneeze that would make nine people jump when I let it out, right? And you know, a little one was just a three jump sneeze but sometimes when we were stuck in a dark classroom for long enough I could get out like a fifteen-jumper or even once I got like fifty people after a school assembly… ah, good times, good times. I miss those sneezes…

Anyway, I also have, you know, pollen allergies, and ah… during the spring, sometimes the teachers’ll leave the windows open and it makes me… it just makes me really, really sneezy, you know? So I’ll sit there, and I’ll sit there and I’ll be fine, for a while. And somehow, always when the teacher’s right in the middle of something, that itch’ll hit me. And I dunno, I can’t fight it! When I gotta sneeze, I gotta sneeze so I… you know, I sneeze! And when I sneeze it’s… or anyway when I used to sneeze it was… well you know it was really loud and every time it would interrupt the whole class with a “WWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!” kinda thing, just really screamed it out ‘cause you know that pollen had really got my nose good and… you know my friends would just sit there and laugh ‘cause they didn’t really wanna be in class anyway. And besides you know, the way the pollen used to get me once I started sometimes I couldn’t stop til I did it four or five times but… it would tickle me in between each one for so long… so the teach’d really get started good again and then my nose would go off again with a “YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” sneeze… and then the class’d be interrupted again ‘cause, you know, when I was sneezin’ it wasn’t like you could hear anything else… probably in the next classroom over neither. See, doc, I told you I was a big sneezer… or at least, back then I thought I was a big sneezer… Anyway, half my teachers told me I had to start goin outside the classroom when I had a sneeze comin, but they could hear it through the door anyway so I don’t figure how it helped ‘em much, really…

Oh but okay the worst, really the worst one was we still had… oh man oh man it makes my nose itch just thinkin’ about it… but you gotta promise me if I look like I’m gonna blow you ah… you gotta stop me okay doc? But right, I was telling you the worst one, the worst one of all was sitting outside during football practice. ‘Cause you know, we didn’t have the ah, the astroturf, no, no coach insisted on real grass. But every time they had to cut it, they would cut the grass right before practice and doc? When they first cut the grass? Oh man nothing makes me sneeze worse than fresh cut grass, I mean that was like a fifty-jump sneeze every time—or worse—those were… they made ME jump and I was the one sneezin’ you know? So anyway, the first few practices nobody says anything, or you know, they rib me about it, you know, like guys do, they say, “Hey… Ackerman, you gonna sneeze us off the field? That your plan?” Yeah they were laughing then…

Plus the grass ones weren’t like my normal allergies, and they weren’t like the sun sneezes, you know? The grass sneezes, doc, they would just build… and build… and build, and I’d be squinting up at the sun, hoping it would help me sneeze so I could finally get rid of the tickle, but I’d just sit on the bench for like… five minutes of those mega-dramatic little sniffles and sniffs and breaths like, “eehhhhhhhhhh… heehehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… hhaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH… hAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” and I mean I’d still be breathin’ in and I’d practically be shoutin’! I don’t know what comes over me with those grass sneezes but I couldn’t help it! And when it finally came out… Doc, even then I was worried for my health. ‘Cause it was like a bomb went off or something just, “HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” And you know, I’d sniff and I’d feel bad about botherin’ everybody and interruptin’ practice but… I’d always still feel that tickle, doc! Way back in my nose just waitin’… I’d probably have to let one go at least two or three times each practice, every time they mowed that field. And that was just what I let go during practice. In the showers, after? Man, guys swore they went deaf listening to me sputter and sneeze. I’d sneeze for twenty minutes straight, either sneezing or itching and gasping and it was even worse ‘cause you know, I couldn’t look up at the sun and I’d just be panting and gasping and guys’d look at me like I was a TNT ready to go off or something…

Anyway, at first, everybody laughs it off. Then they start, you know, they start teasing a little harder. And then they start making fun of me real bad. But I can’t stop, doc, I just… when I smelled that grass it just made me… I mean I just went off like a nuke, felt like I couldn’t stop it whatever I tried. Anyway, they tried to joke me out of em, but it wasn’t like I was doin’ it on purpose! And so we get farther in the season and every time I sneeze during practice, I got the whole team glaring at me. QB says I’m throwing off his arm, ‘cause he’s just waiting for me to go boom. O-Line says they can’t hear the QB over me. By the time we’re deep in the season, and we’re trying to practice a play and I just start shooting off? Nobody’s laughing. I just get these death glares, man. Finally one day, Coach just loses it. He’s like, “Ackerman! You get that damned nose under control, you hear me? You get that nose under control or you’re off the damn team. I’m not kidding around here! Can it with the sneezing or I’m taking you off! You got that?”

And you know I’m terrified, ‘specially since even when he’s saying it I still got that tingle you know, that tingly feeling in my nose that tells me that I might get a sneeze coming at any moment but he said I had to stop sneezing and… doc, I don’t know how to make myself stop sneezing. I’ve always let ‘em rip. Ever since I was a kid, I get a great big itch in my nose, I can’t help it! I just blast out one ‘a my monster sneezes! I’m not equipped to, you know, pinch it and squeeze it down and do those little chew-toy girly girl sneezes. When I gotta blow, I gotta BLOW, doc, no two ways about it. But, the team is important to me so… I start trying to choke ‘em back.

And at first it works, right, doc? I keep my eyes closed when I’m not on the field, ‘cause I know the sun gets to me too. I keep my finger under my nose, and I press real hard every time the itch gets big. And if all else fails and I really gotta let loose… I pinch it. I pinch my nose closed and… doc, you talk about crazy. Keepin’ all that pressure bottled up, it was… it wasn’t comfortable that was for sure. And when I did it that way I’d have to do, like, fifteen of ‘em before I felt any better. And you could tell the guys wanted to make fun of me for it, for doing the chew toy sneezes but they couldn’t, ‘cause they were afraid it’d make me go back to… you know, the real sneezes. Or at least, how they were then…

But it’s never satisfying. I sit there all of practice holding it back, and holding it back, and then doing the little stifle-y sneezes and it’s never… it never feels right, doc. And yeah I’m still blasting em out during the showers but… the more I stifle and the more I hold back, the more I can’t even let ‘em out during the showers. Soon I couldn’t even get a real sneeze out in class, or when I walked outside. Even the sun sneezes failed me, doc! I mean I remember I got a cold for like two days and the whole time, even with a cold—and doc, if there was anything as bad as the grass sneezes, it was my cold sneezes, boy!—even with a cold in my nose, I couldn’t do a real sneeze.

Well, anyway, it helped me on the team. And Coach says I’m doing good work. And I’m getting off the bench more. And then I’m really getting off the bench a lot, and finally, in the last game of the regular season, Coach starts me. And then we go to the playoffs. And I’m starting! I’m starting, Doc, that’s never happened to me. And you know, I’m thinking, well, sure, I can’t sneeze… ever, but… I’m starting. And we get all the way to the playoffs, all the way to State, and ah… at the State game… that’s when things went… off…

We had to drive down to this dinky little college town, like four hours away from home, and… the closer we get to this town the more my nose starts… itching. Like really itching, like… I mean not as bad as when they cut the grass on the field, but… different, like a slow-burning kinda thing that just tickles more and more and more and… I’m not sneezing I’m not even doing the little chew-toy sneezes, the little squeaks. But the itch isn’t going away. It started out so tiny but the closer we got the more that itch grew, and grew… and I felt like… I wanted to start doing those hitching breaths like I used to, when I got hit with the grass smell but… I didn’t want folks to worry that I was losin’ control of my sneezes, like I used to. So I just… didn’t. And it itched, more and more and more, but I didn’t sneeze, didn’t even breathe like I was gonna sneeze. You know, none of the “huh… hehhhhhh… hiiiiiiiihhhhhhhhh…” kinda business. Nothing! I’m on nose lockdown, nobody even knows what’s happening in there but doc, inside my nose it’s just like… like a trampoline party for like… super tiny ants or something, right on the sneeziest part of my nose.

So my nose is already on fire, right doc? Like it’s tickling so bad, probably worse than I can ever remember, ‘cause you know what I was used to was just… you know, getting the urge and blastin it out, right? Okay anyway… we finally get there and we’ve got a night in the hotel before the game right? So you know, I get outta the bus and doc, I gotta tell you I nearly lost it then and there. That tickly feeling got like three times worse all of the sudden, soon as I got outside. I couldn’t see straight I hadta sneeze so bad. But I couldn’t let anybody see it. I blew my nose a little but that didn’t really help. And in my head I’m wishing, oh god, I’m wishing I could just sneeze, however big or loud or hard I had to sneeze, I didn’t care, whatever it took to get that itch outta my nose!

And I still can’t show it to nobody. I mean I froze when I got outside and they’re like, “Are you OK?” and I’m scared to talk, doc! I’m scared to open my mouth cause if I say anything it might make my nose tickle and either way I just know they’re gonna hear the sneeze in my voice, so… so I keep holdin’ it off.

I finally get to the hotel room when my willpower just gives out, just like… I’m in my hotel room, my roommate’s gone out for a sec and it’s not like the walls can hold my sneezes—I know the rooms nearby will hear me—but maybe, just maybe I can let one out, full force, and maybe that’ll get the tickle to where I can stand it at least. So I let the tickle take over and I’m huffing and puffing and I’m sure it’s gonna be a monster but then… the dude who I gotta share a room with walks in and… I couldn’t help it, I just shut it all down and sneezed a little chew-toy sneeze. Only I couldn’t stop. I just kept going with these little squeaky tiny sneezes. All night. Even at the point where we’re trying to get to sleep, and okay I’m lucky the guy I’m rooming with is a decent dude so he’s like, “At least you’re not blowin’ my eardrums out… just… try to knock it off as soon as you can.”

Well I do the squeaky sneezes til I drift off to sleep, a good two hours after my buddy in the other bed has called it a night. And then I wake up, stretch, yawn, take a great big breath of air… and start in with the squeak sneezes again, the little stifle-y sneezes. The other guy in the room just rolls over and gives me a look before he drags himself into the shower. And even while he’s in the shower, I’m all opening the window, looking into the sunlight, trying to get a real sneeze off so I can get some relief, but… nope, no such luck.

So I’m still doing the squeak-sneezes, and they’re just going and going. They’re going while I shower. They’re going while I get dressed. They don’t stop when I get on the bus, just winding up and then another squeezed-down squeaky stifle sneeze, the exact opposite of how I used to sneeze. And they barely give me any relief, almost none at all, and as soon as I get outside, leave the AC in the hotel, whatever it is that got to me about this town just gets about a thousand times worse. And the squeak-sneezes start coming even more often, until it feels like I’m constantly squeaking and it keeps going and going all the way until we’re back on the bus and we’re practically at the field.

And that’s when I realize, doc, like… it don't matter how many chew-toy sneezes I do, this itch isn’t going away. And I can’t play if I’m chew-toy sneezin’, now can I? Coach sees what’s happening, starts rollin’ his eyes and then… I see ‘im and I can’t even blame ‘im, I wouldn’t start me either, popping off with a squeaky little sneeze every two-n-a-half seconds but damn if it didn’t get to me. I mean my nose can’t get any relief, I still don’t get to start, I’m damn near blowing my brains out every time I do one of those squeaky sneezes and most of all doc, most of all there’s this itch, this itch is like… like I just huffed on every flower in the whole hemisphere while staring into the sun on a fresh cut field a grass. And speaking of which…

I start to smell it. Oh no. The field, they…

It was a whole field of freshly cut grass.

Doc, I don’t know how I held on another second, but I did, but I… I mean what happened next I… I wish I’d just… I wish I’d let go before we got out on the field but I… I’m still doin’ the chew-toy sneezes until… until… until… it happened… but anyway I held back for a while longer. I held back the whole time we got dressed, didn't even so much as do a chew-toy squeak. But my nose was on fire. It was like it itched too much to sneeze! But I made it through the warmups and through the Coach’s speech… and after all those chew-toy sneezes I’d done he was sure relieved to have me looking normal. And yeah, I looked normal but inside my nose… was a different story.

And then uh… doc you gotta… well this is why I’m here ‘cause… well okay. Coach is done talking, we’re all warmed up, it’s time to go out on the field right. And my nose… my nose has never felt like this before, right? It just feels like… I’m gonna go nuclear at any second. But I’m looking fine, right, nobody can tell the difference. And it’s driving me crazy but… you know, people have played through worse than a tickle in their nose, even if it’s like… the worst tickle anybody’s ever felt in like a billion years. I can do this, right? Well… that’s what I thought.

So the other team’s already done their whole run out on the field bit and they’re just standin’ there right? Like they’re gonna do some announcement or something or sing the national anthem or whatever… so they want both teams out on the field. And then, we run out and doc, doc, you gotta believe me I tried real hard but… when we ran out on that field… with that grass ticklin in my nose, something just… something snapped and the sneeze I’d been holding for so long… I mean it was like… it was like a year’s worth of sneezes just… I tried to hold it but… I just couldn’t, I didn’t, I had to…

I started sucking in air. Now right away, I knew, even for me, this was gonna be a big one. I mean Coach might drop me from the team right there, during the game but… that tickle in my nose! It was so bad, doc, I didn’t even care anymore. I didn’t give a damn about football or starting or Coach or the whole damn team or the state championship I wanted that itch OUT! I needed to SNEEZE a real, massive, full-size, tornado-strength Jimmy Ackerman AH-CHOO… and besides, whether I wanted to or not, it was coming…

I was gasping. The whole team’s turning around to look at me, even while we’re supposed to be running out onto the field. I’m standing right on the field, right in the end zone, and I… I can’t move. It starts real low, like a “huuuhhhhhhh… huuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh…” but I’m feeling… doc I know it’s crazy but I’m feeling like… like there’s a wind rushing towards me, and my eyes are tearing up and all but I blink down and I’m looking at the grass and it’s… doc the grass is swaying a little…

And then it just keeps coming and now I’m really gasping it in like, “HHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHH… HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…” I mean my chest is swelling and I know I'm not imagining it now… people’s hair is blowing around in the breeze, there are clumps of grass that are just come out of the ground altogether, people are just… they’re just confused, they don’t know what’s happening any more than I do, and Coach is… Coach is walking over and he’s lost it he’s just screaming like, “ACKERMAN! You get that damn nose under control, or I swear… never seen a perfectly good player get so damn sidetracked by sneezing, I mean…”

And, doc… I… I knew it was gonna be a big sneeze, right? But I mean I didn’t know, I couldn’t have known how massive this sneeze was gonna turn out to be. I mean I was used to making people jump with how loud they were but this felt like… well… anyway Coach was right there, in my face, and I was trying… you know I tried to signal as much as I could… tried to get him to move, to get out of the way but… he just kept getting in my space, and I could hardly think about anything… anything except the sneeze, and right when he put his finger in my face, his face is right near my face… I just loose it, doc.

“HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-CCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

I mean doc I’d never sneezed like that… ever, and it… well… I felt all that air blowing out of my nose and my mouth, I felt how much force I was blowing out, how much air I still felt in my lungs as I just kept blasting and blasting… I mean you know my eyes were closed while I was sneezing but I just knew… I was almost afraid to open ‘em you know? And when I did…

Doc I… you’re never gonna believe me but… Doc, I blew Coach halfway across the field. Not just that, I blew most of our team down… ten, fifteen, twenty yards? Doc, the goal post on the other end of the field was swaying. There were banners all around the stands that had blown clean away in the blast, even folks in the stands looked like they’d fallen on top of each other, and… and the worst part was… I wasn’t done.

Doc, I fired off like… ten more of those monsters. I was out of control, I just couldn’t stop. And they never went back to normal, they never got smaller. Just sneeze after sneeze after sneeze. At a certain point people just started running for cover, trying to get away, it was like there was a storm coming but… doc, I was the storm, my nose, my sneezes. Man it was so… embarrassing! And I just kept going and going and going. By the time I finished sneezing, the stadium was basically empty… and basically wrecked. And since then… Doc, my sneezes… they aren’t going back to normal.

I mean they didn’t even want to let me into the hotel room when I got back… and when I did, I totally lost it again, blew out a few windows, totally wrecked the room. I just… I couldn’t help it, it’s like every single sneeze I’d ever held back was just… built up, waiting to get out. And I’ve never had another one quite like that fit at the football field but…

I walk out into the sunlight, get a tickle? Forget a fifty-jump sneeze, it’s liable to be a fifty-foot sneeze, as in people get sneezed fifty-feet away. I mean I haven’t hurt anybody, yet… Coach was a little banged up but he was OK… and the guys were wearing pads… and now everybody knows when I get the sneezes they gotta steer clear. But it’s gettin’ to the point that I’m scared to walk outside! I try to keep my eyes down to the ground but that sun gets to me every time.

And the sneezes in class? I gotta sneeze out the window so I don’t blow nobody through the window! Everybody just leaves a seat by the window for me… and of course I just get more pollen in my nose so I end up sneezing half the class… and I’ve already blown out like ten windows…

And fresh-cut grass, well… let’s just say I don’t get within a hundred feet of anybody’s football field. Hell, my neighbor was mowing the lawn the other day and I was lucky I didn’t blow down his house like the Big Bad friggin Wolf! Doc, it’s crazy! So… so that’s why… I can’t sneeze. Ever again. So uh… will you help me?

--- Dr. Brown was… impressed? Since roughly the midpoint of his story, Dr. Brown had deduced why Mr. Ackerman was so distressed, but he’d searched 13 out of his 79 consciousnesses, and he’d yet to find any situation similar to Ackerman’s. But, he was THE Dr. Brown, the single greatest atemporal, species-agnostic, interdimensional, intergalactic ENT the world had ever seen! If anyone could conquer Ackerman’s admittedly impressive sneezes, it was Doc Brown.

“Well, Mr. Ackerman… I can see now what the problem is… and I have to admit to you, I’m still searching through my multiple consciousnesses and…”

Ackerman made that sour face again. Stupid OldWorlders.

“I mean… I’ll have to finish searching the ah… oh god what did they call it… the um… the inter…”

“Oh you mean searching the internet, doc?”

“Yeah, right, the internet.” Doc Brown barely controlled his eyeroll at that. 21st century technology. “But yes, I’ll have to search the internet, but I haven’t come across a problem like yours in the past.”

Ackerman looked devastated. But Dr. Brown always found a solution! “However… I would love to work with you personally on developing a system to mitigate the effects of your symptoms… ah, you might think of it as a sort of ‘Sneezing Reduction Therapy.’ With any luck we’ll have you back to your old self, just terrifying your fellow humans with your sneezes, rather than blowing them across football fields! Doesn’t that sound great?”

Ackerman brightened up considerably. “Doc! That sounds perfect!”

“Yes… yes… I’m sure it does.” The wheels in Dr. Brown’s head were already turning. (Literally, although the wheels were sub-nano-sized and really only were used for the robo-limbic system, the process for long-term thinking was totally different and involved a great deal more atomic fusion, to say the least…)

--- A few days later, the following ad appeared on advertising media across the galactic center (Doc Brown even sprung for DreamVertising, and you’d think twenty thousand years of marketing experience would get you a better name but, advertisers as always were rather lazy…):

Having issues with your sneezes? Nose causing you dismay? Never fear! Dr. Brown has solutions for sneezing problems of all shapes, sizes, kinds, manners, species, and orders of sentience. Particularly for those having trouble with especially… powerful… sneezes, Dr. Brown’s therapies are a sure-fire success!

Now all that remained was to sit and wait for the clients to roll in…

#snz fic #snz story #male allergies #dr browns interdimensional time travelling sneeze clinic #gigantic sneezes

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whateverittakestoavenge · 6 years ago

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A Night In

Avengers X Reader

Request: Natasha, Wanda and reader girls night in? They’re like listening to music and dancing in the living area when the boys walk in and it’s gets super awkward?

———

Y/n was in a rush, she had an important package to deliver to the team. This package could unite or divide the team. She had to get it to the common room as soon as possible. Y/n was rounding the corner of the hallway when she bumped into a nicely dressed Bucky Barnes.

“Weird,” she thought to herself. He was never one to dress up. She had no time to let her mind wander. She had to deliver the package.

Natasha Romanoff was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone in her left hand and twirling a knife in her right. Wanda Maximoff was sitting on the other side of the couch flipping through a Better Homes and Gardens magazine.

It was safe to safe she was a little pissed off when she saw what all the guys were doing. All of the guys were dressed to go out. Even Steve was letting loose.

“What the hell? Guys were supposed to have a team bonding night! I brought supplies,” she exclaimed.

Sam was the first one to acknowledge her. “We are bonding, Y/n. By having a guys night out. Anyway, we would love to stay and chit chat but”- he started to giggle at this point- “adventure awaits.”

Y/n was disappointed. All she could do was huff and dramatically throw herself on a couch.

Wanda could sense that the woman was upset. “What’s wrong, Y/n. A guys night is a good thing. Maybe we could have a girls night out sometime.”

“I know it’s stupid to be upset about it, but I’m the new kid. You guys have known each other for years and I guess I just wanted to try to fit in.”

“Y/n that’s bullshit, ” the former spy had piped in. “Wanda was new once and now she’s one of us. These things just take time and maybe, some bonding. Any ideas?”

Y/n had perked up at the idea of a girl’s night in. “Well, I do have one idea.” She then got up to reveal the contents of the box she had carried in.

“No way!”

“Oh, hell yeah!”

Y/n had shown them her old karaoke machine. Shit was about to get real.

Wanda’s go to song was a very off-key version of Beyonce’s “Irreplaceable.”

Nat gave a surprisingly good rendition of “Dancing Queen”

Y/N wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. She was brave and chose “I will Always Love You”

Together the girls decided to turn it up a notch. They chose Big Sean’s “I don’t fuck with you”

They were having the time of their lives. Dancing, singing and laughing. They even had Friday put on a light show as they performed and Wanda had the pillows whirling around the room.

“You little stupid ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' with you

You little, you little dumb ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' with you

I got a million trillion things I'd rather fuckin' do”

They happened to be in the middle of the second chorus as the guys walked in.

The guys didn’t announce their arrival until the song was over, by giving their applause.

To say Y/n was mortified would be an understatement. No one really knew what to say. All of the Avengers spent a good two minutes staring at each other. Steve whole face was blood red and Bucky just looked around, trying not to make eye contact.

Y/N wanted death to strike her down right there.

It was extremely awkward until Sam Wilson giggled.

“I don’t suppose you guys mind if we join you all?”

The girls all just shrugged and passed around some more microphones. The embarrassment that Y/N was feeling was suddenly replaced with a very warm feeling. Looks like she was finally getting the team bonding that she wanted.

And that’s the story of how Pepper and Tony returned from their date to several of the Avengers aggressively singing Bohemian Rhapsody.

#avengers x reader #avengers endgame #avengers fic #peter parker x reader #tony stark #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers infinity war #clint barton #natasha romanoff

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entertainmentnewsuniverse · 5 years ago

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The Lion King' Visual Effects

The Lion King change was an extraordinarily worthwhile endeavour for Disney in the mid-year of 2019. It earned about $1.7 billion - which is a huge wad of cash. In any case, the new Disney film didn't fulfil everybody. We've secured the first authors' complaints with how they get no credit on the story, yet now some further unfortunate casualties have ventured forward.

It turns out the VFX organization behind the motion picture's photograph specialized practical visualizations has closed down its studio in Vancouver, Canada taking effect right now.

The way customary VFX puts typically work is they have a couple of full-time representatives and afterwards a vast amount of specialists that help them from gig to gig. This enables the organizations to minimize expenses in the middle of colossal studio activities, and utilize loads of individuals to work when they come in.

At the point when studios need a gig done, they need it to be done quickly, so they send various sellers scenes and make them chip away at them all the while. Since this space is so aggressive, VFX houses, for the most part, offer low to ensure they get the gig. That makes them work to equal the initial investment, rather than making a benefit. What's more, since there's no VFX craftsman association, it drives compensation down also.

This prompts a great deal of additional time and additional costs that most VFX houses can't manage.

The organization that dealt with Lion King, a VFX shop named MPC, had to close down when they paid far more than they charged for chipping away at Lion King. That motion picture accompanied a large number of shots that must be carefully made and rendered.

This work caused 17 or more hour days and continuous supervision. It added to charges that were unanticipated by MPC.

At the beginning of today, MPC told its workers it was shutting their entryways. A message from an ex-MPC Vancouver representative has been posted on Reddit.

We are not ready to check its credibility, yet this is the thing that the message stated:

"We've all placed in extraordinary hours enclosing two notorious ventures by the most recent few months. We've done many weeks without a three day weekend, standard 17+ hour movements to the point that a large portion of us are genuinely restless and are enduring still. We've worked screwing hard to get this work out the entryway for MPC, and I'm embarrassed that they are more joyful organizing their net revenues and assessment motivations over the crazy ability and duty of many devoted VFX specialists in Vancouver. I genuinely feel offended, similar to I've given MPC my everything, and consequently they gave me the finger. Good karma to the various madly capable craftsmen that MPC right now utilizes in different areas, because the second another area turns out to be progressively 'alluring', you could be next on the slashing square."

This is an upsetting record of what occurs off-camera on these sorts of undertakings.

We know there are late hours, however this outskirt on misuse and risky conduct. With studios making billions of dollars, there must be a superior way.

Regardless of whether it's VFX houses requesting to be a piece of the benefit partaking in each discharge, or only having an association set a rate with additional time, changes to the present plan of action are essential to the advantage of both the VFX organizations and the studios that utilize them.

That was the test a specific visualizations group of more than 1,000 individuals confronted when chipping away at Disney's "The Lion King" redo of the 1994 liveliness, expecting to enliven the much-cherished characters, Mufasa and Simba, against a dazzling yet counterfeit African savannah scenery.

A year ago's second-highest netting film, with worldwide film takings of $1.6 billion as indicated by following firm Box Office Mojo, "The Lion King" got a broadly expected enhanced visualizations Oscar selection on Monday for its "photograph genuine" advanced symbolism that makes it resemble an untamed life narrative.

A large group chipped away at the Jon Favreau-coordinated film, delivered with PC activity, augmented reality, gaming innovation and no-frills techniques. Different visualizations organization MPC, possessed by innovation and diversion organization Technicolor and with studios around the world, was entrusted with making the story of lion fledgeling Simba seem as though it had been taped with good creatures in Africa.

"Perhaps the greatest thing you're answerable for is reviving these characters ... They need to act genuine, and they need to look genuine," Adam Valdez, MPC specific visualizations chief who burned through over two years chipping away at "The Lion King", told Reuters in London.

"What's more, if the two things are ever twisted with one another, it breaks the motion picture." "We do a ton of careful investigation into how genuine creatures move, how their muscles and skin carry on ... and afterwards in the PC, we reproduce every one of these things," he stated, including the MPC group previously made structures of the characters and scene.

"A craftsman, similar to an artist, needs to plunk down and hand energize that eye, hand vivify that face with the goal that every unpretentious subtlety is spoken to."

Work on the film occurred in London, Bangalore and Los Angeles, where a headset-wearing Favreau and his group took a shot at a computer-generated simulation set, utilizing gaming innovation to coordinate the scenes.

"The game ... that we composed was about individuals strolling around the savannah of Africa," Valdez said.

"Rather than holding a game weapon they're holding a camera, and they're ready to point the camera at the things they need to film, and we're recording this data in the PC."

Valdez said each shot was then deliberately reproduced to make it look as reasonable as could be allowed.

The group utilized accounts of the cast, which included Beyonce and Donald Glover, voicing their jobs for scenes with the exchange.

"We were exceptionally unobtrusive with it ... Each modest change by state exactly how much eyes open or close, how much eye whites you see within or outside of the irises, they all have enthusiastic importance for us as people," Valdez said.

"In any case, if ... you push it, you snap the association of the photograph authenticity of the picture that you see with conduct that is of the other sort ... It was a dubious thing."

#lionking #lion king #movies #hollywood #bollywood #animated #animals #3d animator #animation movie #simba

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eeraygun · 6 years ago

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Top 285 Sonic Releases of 2018

000. Rosalia - El Mal Querer 001. Various Artists - 'I Could Go Anywhere But Again I Go With You' 002. Autechre - NTS Sessions 003. Various Artists - Kulør 001 004. Oneohtrix Point Never - Age Of (Japanese Edition) 005. Sophie - Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides 006. Tirzah - Devotion 007. Blawan - Wet Will Always Dry 008. Cam Deas - Time Exercises 009. Leon Vynehall - Nothing Is Still 010. Ingus Baušķenieks ‎ - Spoki 011. Clouds - Heavy The Eclipse 012. Kyo & Jeuru - All The Same Dream 013. Topdown Dialectic - Topdown Dialectic 014. Snail Mail - Lush (remaster) 015. Pavel Milyakov - Eastern Strike 016. Robyn - Honey 017. Falcon Black Ops - Vol. 1 018. CTM - Red Dragon 019. Ariana Grande - Thank You Next 020. Robert Lippok - Applied Autonomy 021. Various Artists - LACKRec. vs. Magic Power 022. Henning Christiansen - The Executioner 023. Against All Logic - 2012-2017 024. Scandinavian Star - Solas 025. Happa - PT3.2 026. Prime Minister of Doom - Mudshadow Propaganda 027. Ciara - Dose 028. Joy Orbison - 81b 029. Drew McDowall - The Third Helix 030. Felix Blume - Death in Haiti: Funeral Brass Bands & Sounds From Port au Prince 031. Teyana Taylor - K.T.S.E. 032. Borai & Denham Audio - Club Glow Vol. 1 033. Demdike Stare - Passion 034. Christian Zanési - Grand Bruit - Stop! l'horizon 035. DJ Healer - Nothing 2 Loose 036. Suzanne Ciani - Quadraphonic LIVE 037. Amnesia Scanner - Another Life 038. Various Artists - BROR08 039. Joy O & Ben Vince - Transition 2 - Systems Align 040. Lamin Fofana - Brancusi Sculpting Beyonce 041. ACT! - Universalist 042. Randomer - HS002 043. Vladimir Dubyshkin - Cheerful Pessimist 044. Hugo Massien - Almost Becoming Lucid 045. Barker - Debiasing EP 046. CLUBKELLY - GLOBAL 93 047. Ron Morelli - Disappearer 048. Jenny Hval - The Long Sleep 049. Tierra Whack - Whack World 050. Chambray - Nectar of Joy 051. Deben Bhattacharya - Paris to Calcutta: Men and Music on the Desert Road 052. Stef Mendesidis - Klockworks 23 053. Various Artists - Running Back Mastermix 054. Andrea - Forse 055. François Bayle - Tremblements... LP 056. Childish Gambino - This Is America 057. Efdemin - Naïf 058. Skee Mask - Compro 059. Cardi B - Invasion of Privacy 060. 700 Bliss - Spa 700 061. Chontane - Red Island EP 062. Honnda - Maraschino Mic Drop 063. Martyn Bootyspoon - Silk Eternity 064. Objekt - Cocoon Crush 065. Addison Groove & Bim Sanga Present Bags Inc. - Dance Trax, Vol. 17 066. Puce Mary - The Drought 067. Gonçalo F Cardoso - Impressões de uma Ilha (Unguja) 068. EQD - Equalized #008 069. Félicia Atkinson - Coyotes 070. Low - Double Negative 071. The Mistys - Pregnant Mannequin 072. Adlas - Arrival by Air 073. Vainqueur - Reductions 1995–1997 074. Xzavier Stone - THIRST 075. Kelman Duran - 13th Month 076. Lyra Valenza - Scan, Deliver 077. Bjarki – Oli Gumm 078. Answer Code Request - Gens 079. Forward Strategy Group - East Port Rangers EP 080. Voronoi - Vis-Viva 081. Olsen - Dream Operator 082. Mih-Ty - MIH-TY 083. Textasy - Dallas Gun Club 084. D.Dan - Covert Operation 085. Ursula K. Le Guin & Todd Barton - Music and Poetry of the Kesh 086. Duran Duran Duran - Choose Death 087. Jean C. Roché - Oiseaux Du Birds Of Venezuela 088. Vanessa Rossetto - Fashion Tape 089. Domiziano Maselli - Ashes 090. Smerz - Have fun 091. The Body - I Have Fought Against It, But I Can't Any Longer 092. Grizzle – Quinine 093. Rkss - DJ Tools 094. SHXCXCHCXSH - OUFOUFOF 095. Perfume - Future Pop 096. Stefano Moretti - Land of Mikuni 097. Sim Hutchins - Clubeighteen2thirty 098. Yves Tumor - Safe in the Hands of Love 099. Martyn - Voids 100. Sophia Loizou - Irregular Territories 101. Fracture - Soundboy Get Nervous 102. ABSOLUTE. - Malfunction 103. Diptera - 001 (antenna) 104. Nathan Micay - Whities 017 105. Alex Kassian - Hidden Tropics 106. The-Dream - Menage a Trois Sextape 107. Regal - Still Raving 108. Fumu - Sinuate 109. Evol - Ideal Acid 110. Various Artists - Only Promo Ma Poule 111. Mariah Carey - Caution 112. Ian Isiah - Shugga Sextape (Vol. 1) 113. Marie Davidson - Working Class Woman 114. Aoud - SE MKII 115. Konrad Wehrmeister - 5050 116. The Advent - Klockworks 22 117. Lucy Railton - Paradise 94 118. Virtual Self - Ghost Voices (Raito Remixes) 119. BE3K - Exoneration 120. GALT Faculty - E B O W 121. Art Alfie - The Bo Allan EP 122. Pendant - Make Me Know You Sweet 123. DJ Boring & Frits Wentink - Wasted Years of Pumping Iron 124. Contactless - Static 125. Was A Be & Synth Ethics - Systems 011 126. Helena Deland - From the Series of Songs Altogether Unaccompanied Vol. I 127. Freddie Gibbs - Freddie 128. Tessela & Lanark Artefax - Blue 01 129. Erma Grid - From a Band of Thoughts That Ended My Year 130. Dold - Mother EP 131. Eartheater - Irisiri 132. Age Coin - She Who Sold Me Told Me 133. Agrippa - Mygraine Urgraine/Harbour Run 134. Shame - Songs Of Praise 135. Severin - Safe Following Distance 136. RAMZi - Phobiza vol. 3: Amor Fati 137. Yen Towers - First on Comedown 138. Ludwig A.F. Röhrscheid - Xhale 139. Tee Mango - #2 140. Swarm Intelligence - Against The Dying Light 141. Céline Gillain - Bad Woman 142. Repro - Feel Extraordinary 143. Gila - Shedskin Pt.33 144. Jan Nemecek - Recurrences 145. Various Artists - Midnight in Tokyo Vol. 2 146. Various Artists - HYS001 147. No Moon - Infinite Dreamz EP 148. Prayer - Vital 149. Cadans - Slit EP 150. D. Tiffany - Feel U 151. The Empire Line - Rave 152. DJ Seinfeld - Sakura 153. 3KZ - A Love Supreme 154. Overlook - Never Understand 155. Ligovskoï - Esam 156. FJAAK - Havel 157. Scalameriya - Hellzone Megapunk EP 158. Drake - Scorpion 159. Locked Club - Svoboda 160. Young Echo - Young Echo 161. Reeko & Jonas Kopp - Realidades Holográficas I Torre de Babel 162. Hiro Kone - Pure Expenditure 163. Bruce - Sonder Somatic 164. Arkajo - Avasarala 165. TML - I Need An Exit 166. Thom Yorke - Suspiria 167. Various Artists - EDITSELECT36 168. Patrick Siech - Our Exile 169. Lucrecia Dalt - Anticlines 170. Qnete - Shtum 018 171. Future & Juice WRLD - WRLD ON DRUGS 172. Demian Licht - Female Criminals Vol. 3 173. Veronica Vasicka - in silhouette 174. 999999999 - RAVE REWORKS 175. Azari - Gotasoul 176. Varg - Nordic Flora Series Pt. 5: Crush 177. Mount Eerie - Now Only 178. Rabit - Bricks in a Draught 179. Elad Magdasi - Liquid Dreams 180. Tomas Urquieta - Dueños de Nada 181. The Higher - The Core 182. Ross Birdwise - Drunk Formalism(s) 183. Alan Fitzpatrick - System Addict 184. H4L - Four Lights 185. John Maus - Addendum 186. L-Vis 1990 - 12 Thousand Nights: Club 187. BLD - For Rave Use Only 188. Various Artists - Don’t You Mess with Cupid, 'Cause Cupid Ain’t Stupid 189. Ksmisk - Mikrometeorittene 190. Mark Leckey - Exorcism Of The Bridge @ Eastham Rake 191. Ross from Friends - Squaz 192. Rae Sremmurd - SR3MM-Jxmtro-Swaecation 193. Ricardo Villalobos - Silent EP 194. Young Thug - Slime Language 195. Phobia NL & Blacksun - Crossfire EP 196. X-Coast - XTC 197. Asymptote - Belief System 198. Ambivalent & Alden Tyrell - Detente 199. Christine and the Queens - Chris 200. Big Miz - Build-Destroy 201. Locked Groove - From Beyond 202. A$AP Rocky - TESTING 203. Paranorman - FUD001 204. Subradeon - Walking Through Motown EP 205. LMajor - Dig the New Breed, Pt. 1 206. P.Leone - The My Lita Project 207. P€PA & Z$OLI - Pzs_Rave 208. Adryiano - Dreams With EP 209. Appleblim - Life in a Laser 210. Vril - Omniverse EP 211. Бassae - Untitled 212. Gabber Eleganza – Never Sleep #1 213. Senyawa - Sujud 214. Radial - Tympana 215. N1L - 山卂ㄒ乇尺爪乇爪ㄖ尺ㄚ 216. Dibek & Lodig - Lap.AM 217. Jonny Greenwood - Phantom Thread 218. Urulu - Foreign Depths 219. David Goldberg - EMO Serialism 220. DJ Different - Permission 2 Dance 221. Prg_m - Berytus Groan 222. Funeral Future - Hard Candy EP 223. Voiski - Sick Parrots 224. serpentwithfeet - soil 225. Company - Prosody 226. Stanislav Tolkachev - Champions Breakfast 227. Asquith - The Conditioning Track 228. Awdha - UNO 229. Dedekind Cut - Tahoe 230. Harrison BDP & Garth James - Vapour Trails EP 231. Sugar - No Sex Only Feelings 232. Duppy Gun Productions - Miro Tape 233. Mike Davis - Communique From an Absent Future 234. Cabasa - Uncle Sigmund's EP 235. Various Artists - Eel Behaviour: Sniper 236. Silicon Scally - Live at Scand 237. E-Talking & Laksa - Blue 04 238. Jacquees - 4275 239. Marcel Dettmann - Test-File 240. Acre - Hollow Body 241. #.4.26. - MDR 24 242. Blood Orange - Negro Swan 243. Various Artists - Bavarian Stallion Series 003 244. Developer - Off Grid EP 245. 90 Process - No Warehouse Needed 246. Sector Y - CS_TMS 247. Charli XCX - Focus & No Angel 248. Paula Temple & Eomac - ETXC001 249. Cassius Select - Fake Death 250. hekla - Á 251. UNIIQU3 - Phase 3 252. Sedvs & Peel - The Plf Sessions I 253. Yugen - Ineffable 254. Europa - Alpanya 255. LSDXOXO - BODY MODS 256. Roper Rider - Motion Profile 257. Forest Drive West - Un 258. Petar Dundov - Dalmatina & Once We Were Here 259. Desiigner - L.O.D. 260. Renick Bell - Wary 261. Nicki Minaj - Chun-Li 262. Locked Club - ЛОМАЙ EP 263. Dopplereffekt - Athanatos 264. Glaskin - Grey Lines 265. Beta Librae - Subspecies 266. Oisel - Entroterra EP 267. Conforce - Zero Point-Field 268. Raito - One Step Beyond 269. Hioll - Hioll 002 270. Various Artists - AEX005 271. Rune Bagge - Pink Dreams 272. Tensal - Industrialsociety EP 273. Mathias Schaffhaeuser - Love Idol 274. Notzing - 014 275. Michal Wolski - Still Life 276. Aphtc - When Grounds Shift 277. DJ Sneak - 3D Print 278. Bylly - Mouth Full of Sand 279. CUB - Seeing From Above 280. Farrago - Risin' 281. Amotik ‎– Amotik 009 282. D-Leria - Driving to Nowhere 283. The Cyclist - Alabaster Thrones 284. Roza Terenzi & DJ Zozi - Planet Euphorique

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unabashedtravelerjellyfish · 4 years ago

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Insta Top

Instagram is obviously the spot to be for influencer advertising in 2019. As we found in our The State of Influencer Marketing 2019: Benchmark Report, Instagram use has developed 10x in the course of the most recent five years. It surpassed 1 billion every day clients in June 2018 and is quickly en route to a subsequent billion. Yet, who are the top instagram influencers india in 2020? While we can't tell the specific measure of impact that every one of these records has, we list the 40 records with the most devotees.

We have chosen our top influencers utilizing our free Influencer Rank Search apparatus. The Influencer Marketing Hub has joined with HypeAuditor to rank the top bona fide influencers on Instagram. The AI altogether investigations and positions bloggers by quality crowd and true commitment. The request for the influencers in this rundown depends fair and square of impact that this device computes, instead of just devotee numbers. Thusly, you will locate that a few people with higher devotee numbers show up let down the rundown than individuals who we accept have more impact on fewer adherents.

Here are the Top Instagram Influencers for 2020:

1. Cristiano Ronaldo - @cristiano

Any football adherent will in a flash perceive the name of Cristiano Ronaldo. Ronaldo is a Portuguese expert footballer who plays as a forward for Italian club Juventus and chiefs the Portugal public group. For a long time individuals believed him to be the best part on the planet, many actually view him as probably the best player ever.

Likewise with most expert athletes, he likely could be keen on a sponsorship bargain – at a significant cost.

2. Selena Gomez - @selenagomez

Selena Gomez (is an American artist, entertainer, and maker. She first picked up acknowledgment in quite a while's TV – in Barney and Friends and afterward in Disney's Wizards of Waverly Place.

She at first picked up melodic accomplishment with the band, Selena Gomez and the Scene, with three collections making the US Billboard 200. She has proceeded with solo achievement, procuring seven top-ten sections on the US Billboard Hot 100. In 2017, Billboard revealed that she had sold more than 7 million collections and 22 million singles around the world.

Gomez has kept on blending in acting with her music profession and has showed up in various motion pictures, just as her music recordings.

She was the most followed Instagrammer on the planet prior to being outperformed by footballer Cristiano Ronaldo in late October 2018, overlooking the Instagram showing account.

3. Kylie - @kyliejenner

Kylie Jenner is another individual from the Jenner-Kardashian faction. She is sister to Kendall Jenner, and relative to Kim Kardashian, Kourtney Kardashian, Khloe Kardashian, Rob Kardashian, Brandon Jenner, and Brody Jenner.

With the remainder of her family, Kylie included in Keeping Up with the Kardashians. She is the originator and proprietor of corrective organization Kylie Cosmetics.

In 2014 and 2015, Time magazine recorded the Jenner sisters among the most persuasive youngsters on the planet.

Forbes places Kylie on its Forbes Celebrity 100 rundown in 2017, making her the most youthful individual on the rundown. This year, Forbes recorded her as the world's most youthful independent very rich person as of March 2019. The posting caused contention, with many questioning whether she is really "independent."

4. Leo Messi - @leomessi

Lionel Messi is an Argentine expert footballer who plays as a forward and skippers both Spanish club Barcelona and the Argentina public group. Many think of him as the best part on the planet and some view him as the best player ever.

He has spent his whole expert vocation with Barcelona, where he has won a club-record 32 prizes. Messi holds the records for most objectives in La Liga and in Europe's main five associations, just as numerous other objective scoring records. He has scored more than 680 senior vocation objectives for club and nation.

He declared his worldwide retirement in 2016 however switched his choice and drove his nation to fit the bill for the 2018 FIFA World Cup. In that competition, he turned into the third Argentine after Diego Maradona and Gabriel Batistuta to score in three diverse World Cups.

5. Kendall - @kendalljenner

Kendall Jenner is essential for the Jenner-Kardashian family that highlights in Keeping Up with the Kardashians. She is presently a model, basically because of her Instagram achievement.

She has done various articles and cover goes for LOVE and global Vogue versions, strolled for Victoria's Secret, and goes about as a brand diplomat for Estée Lauder's advertisement crusades.

6. Beyoncé - @beyonce

(Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter in full) is an American artist, lyricist, entertainer, record maker, and artist. She rose to acclaim in the last part of the 1990s as lead artist of the R&B young lady bunch Destiny's Child - the gathering got outstanding amongst other selling young lady bunches ever.

Predetermination's Child down and out up in 2006 and Beyoncé accordingly assembled an exceptionally effective performance vocation. She has likewise acted in movies, for example, Austin Powers in Goldmember, The Pink Panther, Dreamgirls, and Obsessed.

Beyoncé has sold more than 100 million records worldwide as an independent craftsman, and a further 60 million records with Destiny's Child. She has won 23 Grammy Awards and is the most assigned lady in the honor's set of experiences.

7. BILLIE EILISH - @billieeilish

Billie Eilish has an uncommon level of impact for someone with a (nearly) modest number of supporters. Okay, the vast majority would cherish in excess of 40 million adherents, however our impact instrument puts her in similar domains as individuals with more than 100 million supporters.

Billie Eilish is an American vocalist and musician. She picked up a continuing in 2016 when she delivered "Sea Eyes" on SoundCloud.

She is most popular for her 2019 single "Miscreant," which bested the Billboard Hot 100. She has been selected for six Grammy Awards, including Record of the Year, Album of the Year, Song of the Year and Best New Artist. At 17, she is the most youthful to have been assigned for those four Grammy

8. Ariana Grande - @arianagrande

Ariana Grande is an American artist, lyricist, and entertainer. She started her profession in 2008 in the Broadway melodic 13. She showed up on the soundtrack for Nickelodeon arrangement Victorious (in which she acted) and was endorsed to Republic Records in 2011.

Grande delivered her presentation collection, Yours Truly in 2013. She is the main craftsman to have the lead singles from every one of their initial five studio collections debut inside the best ten on the US graphs.

She has tasted a lot of accomplishment and won one Grammy Award, one BRIT Award, three American Music Awards, three MTV Europe Music Awards and two MTV Video Music Awards.

Announcement named her Woman of the Year in 2018.

9. Taylor Swift - @taylorswift

Taylor Swift is an American vocalist musician. She is extraordinary compared to other selling music specialists, time, having sold in excess of 50 million collections, just as 150 million single downloads.

She is likewise a cultivated lyricist and was remembered for Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Songwriters of All Time in 2015. She has likewise gotten 10 Grammys, one Emmy, 23 Billboard Music Awards, and 12 Country Music Association Awards. She even holds six Guinness World Records. She beat Forbes' Celebrity 100 out of 2016.

10. Neymarjr - @neymarjr

Neymar da Silva Santos Júnior otherwise known as Neymar Jr. is a Brazilian expert footballer who plays as a forward for French club Paris Saint-Germain and the Brazil public group.

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steelfeather · 7 years ago

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I Don’t Sing (A Boyfriend!Tom Imagine)

Request: No. This one actually comes from a personal place for me and turned out to be a therapeutic idea.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You don’t like singing in front of people.

Ships: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Nah, just fluff, and lots of it.

Taglist: @crispyqueer, @yoinkpenisparker, @quacksonss, & @twiceinabluemoon

*A/N: I needed to write something fluffy to cleanse my soul. Also, the reader’s “tragic backstory” is taken straight from my life experiences, so that’s a thing you know now. Hope you enjoy!

When you meet Tom, it isn't your best moment.

Damn, you think, why did I agree to this?

Your best friend is onstage with the man she's been putting the moves on for hours, belting out a duet. The place is packed, far too many people for your comfort, and karaoke is really starting to take off tonight. You can feel yourself starting to sweat; either the place needs better A/C, or you're just very uncomfortable.

Your friend stumbles off the stage and practically collapses in the seat next to yours, laughing breathlessly.

"That was so fun!" she bubbles. "You have to do it before we leave!"

"No, I don't," you shout, struggling to be heard over the horrifying strains of "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy". She doesn't appear to hear you.

At that moment, you happen to look over at the door, perhaps following a subconscious effort to escape, and spot two surprisingly familiar faces.

Cold fingers run down your spine as you recognize Tom Holland and his best friend/assistant, Harrison Osterfield. You knew they were probably in town, shooting Tom's latest movie, but you never imagined they would show up at a karaoke bar while you were there, and now you're truly terrified. What if she really--

"Hey," your former best friend shouts, grabbing your arm and raising it like a cage wrestling referee. "She wants to go next!"

All eyes swivel to you; your friend is a naturally loud person, and she's four vodka cranberries deep, so everyone heard

You try to speak quietly to her. "No, I really don't want to--"

Now, normally she would have taken a cue earlier. But she’s rather unbearable when drunk, and your embarrassment only encourages her. So she roars, "Aww, she's shy. Give her some encouragement!"

A chant of "Do it" begins to pick up all over the room, gaining volume as you wish for the ground to open up and swallow you. You're staring at the floor, so you don't see Tom and Harrison swapping concerned looks, not joining in the chant.

You lean over and whisper into her ear, "Please, I really don't want to." She just laughs and starts chanting along. A rhythmic clap has started.

You start shaking your head minutely, the sounds and colors starting to blur together as your breaths come shorter. With tears pressing at your eyes, you stand shakily and push past the people around you, breaking into a half-run as you gun it for the door.

When you've made it outside, you press your back to the wall and heave in lungfuls of the cool air, hearing the entire bar erupt into laughter. You hide your red cheeks in your hands, trying to steady your breathing, and hear quiet footsteps.

Looking up quickly, you see Tom just outside the door, looking at you.

You always imagined you would play it cool if you met a celebrity you have a massive crush on, but that turns out to be patently untrue, as you stumble backwards in shock and trip over your own feet, losing your balance and falling toward the sidewalk.

Maybe it's not all bad, though, because in the next moment his arms are around you and boy he's strong, and he smells even better than you imagined.

"Are you alright, love?" he asks, and you try desperately not to betray how that affects you.

"I'm fine," you tell him, voice escaping you in a squeak.

He straightens and lets go of you, taking a step back as his expression turns serious. "I'm sorry about what happened inside," he says, and your mouth drops open.

"Why are you apologizing?" you ask, more bluntly than you were aiming to.

"I, well, I don't think they should have done that to you," he replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh," you say, for lack of anything better. "Well, thank you."

The two of you stand in a somewhat comfortable silence, looking up at the night sky. After a few moments, he turns to you.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Anything, you think.

"Do you think zebras are black with white stripes, or white with black stripes?"

You burst out laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth at his affronted expression.

"What... what kind of... question is that?" you squeeze out through actual tears, earlier distress forgotten.

"It's a real question!" he insists. "Harrison and I were arguing about it on the way."

"Oh?" you tease. "And what side did you fall on?"

"Black with white stripes, obviously. So I need your input, because if you agree with me, then Haz is outvoted."

"Well, what color is their actual skin?" you ask.

"Hmm." He thinks. "You know, I don't know."

You sigh. "A mystery that's destined not to be solved, then."

He nods seriously. "Truly, a tragedy."

The two of you chuckle, and it's strangely nice.

After a moment, he turns to you. "Listen, can I walk you home?"

Seeing your expression, he quickly adds, "Just walk you home. I don't put out on the first date, after all."

"Is that what this is?" you ask, breath catching. "A first date?"

He looks at you from under one stray curl. "Only if you want it to be."

"Well, our first date consisted of me fighting off a panic attack while you kept me company," you respond, barely containing the urge to pump both fists in the air. "What would our second date even be?"

He appears to think for a moment. "Breakfast tomorrow?"

"Thomas Stanley Holland," you gasp, pressing a hand to your chest dramatically. "I am not that kind of girl!"

He flushes as he realizes the unfortunate connotation he just delivered, then runs a hand through his hair. You take pity on him.

"Yes," you say. "I would love a second date with you." And many more after that, your traitorous brain supplies.

His answering smile could light up a small city.

Four months after the two of you meet, you are moving in with him.

It's sudden, and scary, but all you know is that you feel at home when you're in his arms, and you love him even when you fight, so you're taking the biggest plunge of your life so far.

About two weeks after you move in, you're in the shower, singing along to “Renegades” by the X Ambassadors.

Tom left for the gym a couple of hours ago, after unsuccessfully attempting to invite you along.

“Long live the pioneers,” you belt out, “Rebels and mutineers...”

Your voice echoes off the tiles and comes back to you distorted, almost sounding good for once. You twirl under the water as your favorite verse starts.

“So, all hail the underdogs, all hail the new kids. All hail the outlaws, Spielbergs and Kubricks...” You might have continued, except your spinning has just brought you face-to-face with Tom, who's grinning devilishly.

You shriek, slipping on the wet floor and landing hard on your ass.

Instantly, he's opening the door and helping you up, not giving a second's thought to his now-soaked clothes.

"Are you alright, darling?" he asks, real concern in his voice.

You groan. "I think I bruised my butt," you tell him, rubbing it and pouting. He stifles a smile.

As you limp around your bedroom, getting dressed, he sits on the bed, watching you.

It's not how he normally looks at you; there's no heat or lust there, only curiosity. Finally, you sigh and face him. "What is it, Tom?"

"I was just wondering," he starts. "You never sing when anyone else is around."

"That's not a question."

"Okay," he says. "Why is it that you don't sing around other people?"

Had the question come from anyone other than Tom, you might have been tempted to instruct them exactly where to stick it, but this was Tom, and you loved him, (even if you hadn't exactly told him that yet), and he deserved to know.

"It's really stupid," you say.

He holds your hand, stroking his thumb over your knuckles comfortingly. "I'm sure it's not."

"Well, when I was a kid, I thought I was a really good singer," you confess. "Like, the next Beyonce or something. You know, my mom always told me I had such a beautiful voice, and all the adults agreed with her. So I didn't have a reason to think I wasn't great. I sang all the time. I mean, it made me happy..."

Tom's eyes don't leave yours, soft and attentive as he listens. Now that you've started, it comes pouring out in a wave of words.

"One day when I was, like, 14 or 15, I was hanging out with one of my friends, and she was a real singer, in my opinion-- she had had voice lessons and everything. So we were listening to music, and I was just singing along when she paused the song and turned to me."

You exhale deeply, still surprised at how much the memory affects you the better part of a decade later.

"I'll never forget what she said. 'You know you're not very good at singing, right?' she asked, and it didn't even sound like she was trying to be mean. It just sounded like a fact." Your eyes are glued to the bedspread.

"It's silly, but that moment really affected me. I barely ever sing in front of people now. In fact, I don't think I sing in front of anyone I don't love really deeply, like my family or a few childhood friends. It's like the ultimate sign that I'm comfortable around you."

Tom doesn't speak for a long moment, and you hope he isn't offended by the implication that you aren't fully comfortable with him yet, because that isn't what you were trying to say.

Then you feel his fingers under your chin, gently lifting it to look into your eyes, and he looks so empathetic that you want to cry.

"Darling," he says, "I'm so, so sorry she said that to you. It wasn't kind of her."

You smile shakily, leaning into his hand as he cups your face.

"And for the record," he adds cheekily, "I think you have a lovely voice."

"Tom!" you chide, tickling his sides. He tackles you to the bed and kisses you breathless, and the moment passes.

For the next two months, you search for a way to tell Tom you love him, to no avail.

A part of you is sincerely worried that it's too soon to reveal your feelings, that you may scare him off, and the thought alone is terrifying enough to warn you away. But the words and the sentiment are still there, simmering under the surface, and the longer you put it off, the more it bothers you.

Why can't you just tell him?

Every time you open your mouth to say something, you're paralyzed with fear.

Until, one day, you have an idea.

You lower the lights in the apartment, lighting a few candles, then set up the stereo so you can play music from your phone. When that's done, you sit on the couch, facing the door, and try to fight down your nerves.

It feels like hours have passed when the doorknob finally clicks and turns, revealing your boyfriend in casual clothes. He does a bit of a double take when he sees the state of the apartment, mouth opening to ask a question, but you raise one finger, signaling for silence. You aren't sure you can get through this if he speaks. His mouth shuts, almost audibly.

You tap on your phone's screen and "Like I'm Gonna Lose You," by Meghan Trainor, fills the room softly. You stand and sing along, eyes not leaving him as your voice gains confidence.

He looks starstruck, just looking at you with the softest expression you've ever seen in your life, and you put more feeling into the lyrics, trying to brand them into his soul.

"So I'm gonna love you,

Like I'm gonna lose you.

I'm gonna hold you,

Like I'm saying goodbye.

Wherever we're standing,

I won't take you for granted,

'Cause we'll never know when,

When we'll run out of time.

So I'm gonna love you,

Like I'm gonna lose you.

I'm gonna love you like I'm gonna lose you."

By the time you reach the last bar, your voice is clear and full, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. He stands still as the last note fades, staring into your eyes, and it's hard to breathe from how scared you are, but you know you have to say it now--

"I love you, Tom," you say, and it's surprisingly clear and confident. "I'm in love with you. You don't have to say it back if you don't feel it yet--"

"I love you so much," he says, crossing the room in three huge steps and folding you into a hug. He speaks into the crook of your neck, sounding almost pouty. "I wanted to be the first to say it, though."

You giggle a little, the stress of the moment fading away. "God, I love you." Saying it is rapidly becoming addicting.

He kisses you tenderly. "I love you, too."

"I never knew you were such a romantic," he continues, a hint of teasing in his tone. "Serenading me and everything..."

You elbow him lightly in the ribs, and he grins as he plants another kiss on your lips. He clasps your hand and starts leading you to the bedroom.

"Well, love, you've gotten to show me how much you love me... I believe it's my turn to return the favor."

#my writing #fanfiction #imagine #tom holland x reader #fluff #featuring phobias and anxiety #honestly i just think this is cute #harrison osterfield if you squint

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livingmybestfictionallife · 8 years ago

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Conquest

Anon Request: Hello! Okay so I don't know if anyone wrote an imagine about that but here's the deal: A Tom Holland x reader where Reader is Tom's gf and she's watching him perform live at Lip Sync Battle and they get freaky right after the show while he's still wearing his costume because Reader finds him extremely sexy so yeah! Thank you much! And if you don't write smut it's all good! Have a nice day xx

Warnings: smut, language, NSFW, 18+ please, oral (fem-receiving), dom!tom, sub!reader, basically porn

(Y/N) had heard of a show called Lip Sync Battle before, but she’d never really watched it. Sure she saw John Krasinski’s hilarious interpretation of “Proud Mary” as well as Channing Tatum’s Beyonce impersonation, but those were just isolate incidents of hilarity, right? She sat between Harrison and Harry, who had come out to see Tom’s performance, and couldn’t help the laughter that came over her as she watched both Tom’s and Zendaya’s interactions with one another throughout their songs, but there was little she or anyone else in the audience could do to prepare themselves for the closing performance of the night. (Y/N) stifled a giggle as she watched her boyfriend enter the stage in a suspiciously large suit and start swinging around an umbrella to one of their favorite musicals. She thought it was cute, but there was no way “Singing in the Rain” was going to beat Zendaya’s Bruno Mars performance. (Y/N) ignored the competition part of the show and payed attention to Tom’s movements as he swung around the prop light pole only to disappear behind the set. Suddenly, the piano music cut off and shifted to more of a modern day feel. (Y/N) turned toward Harry and Harrison and the three of them exchanged looks of confusion only to hear Rihanna’s voice flood over the speakers and a the crowd erupt into loud screams and cheers. The three quickly turned back in time to see Tom jump back out onto stage in a black leather leotard and pantyhose with frilly wrist gauntlets and a full face of makeup on. “Oh shit!” “What the hell?” and “Fuck me!” escaped the mouths of the three people Tom brought with him to the show tonight as he grinned lightly against the umbrella he held in front of him before backing up into the crowd of dancers and joining in their routine: popping his hips to the side and pulling the umbrella parallel over his head before squatting and separating his knees as if air humping the prop. He continued to swing his hips in circles and body roll before he threw the umbrella between his legs and popped his ass out repeatedly.

(Y/N) could hardly contain herself as he spread his legs as far as he could, squatted down, and then rotate his pelvis for the crowd. She couldn’t help the tears streaming down her face from laughter as Tom continued over toward Zendaya to grind against her, but the thing that captured (Y/N) most was when he made his way back to the center of the stage during the song’s bridge, building up for the last chorus. As soon as the rain glistened off the leather surrounding Tom’s package, she was soaked. Tom hit his knees and started to throw his head in circles before slapping against the water that had pooled up and rising again to complete the song and then fall on his back. Slowly, (Y/N) managed to slip away from her seat without Harrison or Harry noticing. She dipped and ducked around backstage until she made her way to Tom’s dressing room. Her heart was pounding in her chest as the television mounted on the wall displayed in real-time what was happening on stage. her heart beat faster and faster the closer the number in the corner of the screen counting down got to zero. (Y/N) paced around the room, trying to find the best place to wait for him, debating on whether to strip naked already or not. Before she could make a decision, the door knob started to turn and she quickly jumped on the side the door opened on and hid behind it as Tom entered. Just as she had hoped, he was still dressed in his soaking wet faux leather leotard. She slipped around the door as he closed it and quickly turned the lock. “(Y/N)?” Tom called with an excited and shocked expression on his face. “How did you get-” He was cut short of finishing his sentence when she shoved her lips against his violently. He didn’t waste time questioning what was happening. Instead, he dropped the prop umbrella and stretched his muscular bare arms around her body, clutching tightly at her ass and leaving scratched along her back. The wet lipstick on his lips quickly smeared across each of their faces as he slipped his tongue into her mouth and then sucked hers into his, biting down as she tried to pull out.

Tom shoved his hand down the front of her shorts, not hesitating to push his fingers into her longingly quivering lips. “You’re so wet,” he breathed against her ear as his three middle fingers swirled within her. She pulled against the leather trousers that clung to his bulging cock and realized his outfit came in two pieces rather than one. She slipped her dominant hand down the front of his pants and gripped his dick, rigorously pumping her hand along his length. Tom groaned under her touch and started to push the tips of his fingers across her clit, causing her to whimper under his touch.

“Tom,” she moaned. The hand gripping his cock started to shake and her momentum slowed down as her hips twisted against his body, begging for more than just his fingers.

He smirked devilishly as her power over her body subsided, leaving him in complete control. As soon as he knew she was his and that she wasn’t going to put up a struggle for dominance, he shoved her onto the couch and tore her shorts from her body without bothering to unbutton them. Tom pulled her back up from the couch to tease her, sliding his hands along her waist and then up her thighs as he slowly lowered himself into a squat. Soon, his hot breath panted against her stomach and his front teeth pinched her skin as the tugged against her black lace thong. Once he had her thong on the ground, Tom shoved her back onto the couch and took her knees in each of his hands before forcing her legs apart. He pressed his lips along her legs, leaving hickies dotted across the inside of her thighs before his lips finally collided with her opening.

He was slow at first, knowing that once he got her going, there would be no way to savor the moment they were in. The smallest part of his tongue slipped back and forth over her clit and (Y/N) arched her back in an attempt to raise her hips to beg him for more. Immediately, Tom pulled himself back and thrust his face into hers. “Fuck, babe,” he huffed, “I know you remember my rules.” She could smell herself in his breath as he licked his lips, his normally caring eyes calloused into what she called his ‘hard fucking’ eyes. Whenever she had seen this crazed look of necessary lust in Tom’s, she knew he meant business. Normally Tom was very attentive in bed. He liked to please and normally only had rough sex when (Y/N) told him to bend her over the bed and ‘fuck me like you mean it,’ but one night, she teased him so much to the point that he tapped into this other side of him and she realized just how much he was holding back. (Y/N) tried to peck her lips against Tom’s before he went back to eating her out, but her failed attempt further unleashed his dominance. She knew his rules inside and out, but it didn’t stop her from breaking them. Whenever she did something that could be considered ‘asserting dominance,’ he would counteract her move with something even more irresistible, therefore, her attempt to give him a light kiss lead to him sliding his fingers inside of her and crashing his lips onto hers, sucking and biting her lips and tongue until the sensation between her legs was too much to handle and her moaned into his mouth. She could still remember the night he became this sex monstrosity of her dreams and the way he delivered his rules to her. Even thinking about them now got her going even more.

(Y/N) had wanted to introduce a little role playing to their sex life and decided that having him handcuff her and bend her over would be an easy transition but a strange sense of exhilaration came over him as he realized the meaning behind what she was having him do to her. Tom knew that (Y/N)’s greatest fear was her own vulnerability so letting him have complete control over her body like this only showed the true degree of trust she had in him. Somehow she found herself on her knees with Tom tying his ties into tight box knots around her wrists to the top of the bed frame. Her back was arched and her head hung down as her arms were stretched out above her and Tom made his way behind her. Slowly, his shoved his hard-on inside her and slapped her ass.

“You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you?” he began. “You’re going to stay still, no matter how hard it is. Once you start moaning, you’re going to moan my fucking name louder and louder as you get closer to cumming. You’re not going to distract me by touching me,” each time he listed another rule, he slapped her ass harder and made his thrusts deeper. “If you break my rules, I will make you cum and then we will start over.”

(Y/N) leaned back on the couch as Tom hovered over her. His eyes were fierce and the bore against her bare chest. His head dropped and he immediately started sucking on her tits, nibbling at her nipples just enough to cause a tingling pain but not enough to make the mistake of getting smacked in the head again.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to break my rules?” Tom asked her as he put her legs on his shoulders and gripped her love handles so hard she knew she’d be bruised within the hour. His cock traveled into her in long, quick, violent thrusts and he repeatedly hit her sweet spot she reached forward to grab his perfectly toned chest only to have her hands swatted away and his thrusts to quicken. His thighs slapped against her ass with each thrust and a quick pulse echoed through the room, matching the throbbing in her vagina as she tried to constrict herself around him. “And now that’s three,” he sighed at her before flipping her over and pounding his thick cock into her until she bit into her arm to keep herself from screaming, saving herself even more humiliation of confronting Harry and Harrison who were no doubt wondering what was taking Tom so long to change. Tom stared at her ass as it bounced against him and looked into the mirror he had bent her over in front of to see her breasts smacking into the other.

“F-fucking shit, Tom!” she yelled before releasing everything she had pent up onto him. He looked over her naked body as she slumped against the chair he was fucking her over and smirked at himself. “What?” she asked as they each caught their breath. “You owe me three more tonight,” he muttered against her hot and sweaty skin.

“Your brothers and Harrison are staying with you tonight,” she protested.

“Then maybe you’ll follow my rules those times,” Tom smirked at her as they slipped back into their clothes. They hurried to dress and leave before causing too much of a hold up for his brother and Harrison only to find the pair impatiently waiting for them in the parking lot.

“What took you so long?” they grumbled as Tom and (Y/N) walked past them. He gave her ass quick squeezed before slapped it as she walked toward his car and turned back to the other guys with the pride of conquest in his eyes.

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womenofcolor15 · 5 years ago

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Celebs Shower Tyler Perry With Love After His Studios’ Historic Grand Opening Weekend

Tyler Perry Studios held its grand opening over the weekend and celebs are showering him with love and praise for the big feat. Peep their reactions inside…

Tyler Perry unveiled his state-of-the-art Tyler Perry Studios in Atlanta, which sit on 330-acres, inviting a slew of YBF celebs to share in the celebration over the weekend. And it’s a major deal. Tyler Perry Studios is considered one of the largest production studios in the country with 12 soundstages, 40 buildings on-site that are listed on the National Register of Historic Places and more than 200 acres of green space.

Not to mention, he’s the first African-American to own a studio without the backing of corporations or partners. Yeah, he did that. He’s providing a seat at the table like no other.

Welcome to my table!! pic.twitter.com/fzvP3lTQQX

— Tyler Perry (@tylerperry) October 7, 2019

A slew of A-listers were in the mix to celebrate Tyler’s huge accomplishment, including EGOT Whoopi Goldberg (who was honored during the gala), Spike Lee, Beyonce, Jay-Z, Taraji P. Henson, Viola Davis, Cecily Tyson, Halle Berry, Debbie Allen, Samuel L. Jackson, Phylicia Rashad, Usher, Ava DuVernay and TONS more.

Following the epic night, Tyler tried to express his emotions in a tweet:

I’m a writer with no words for Saturday night. So if a picture is worth a thousand words then let them speak for me while I gather my emotions and try to process what happened on Saturday!! https://t.co/KAI2QGPmtz pic.twitter.com/SXBLEeqqV2

— Tyler Perry (@tylerperry) October 7, 2019

He dedicated one of those soundstages to legendary actress Diahann Carroll, who passed away last Friday following a long bout with cancer. Tyler hopped on Instagram to pay tribute to the “Julia” actress, sharing how he had previously planned to pay tribute to the iconic actress before her passing.

”In less than 24 hours I was scheduled to dedicate a sound stage at my new studio to Diahann Carroll,” he wrote. “As I sat reviewing her video tribute, I got a request to call her daughter when she told me of her Mother’s passing. I did what I could to try and comfort her in this difficult time, but I know no words could soothe, however I prayed that it would."

He said Stage 5 in Tyler Perry Studios will forever hold the legacy Diahann Carroll left behind.

We wanted Diahann to hear us in Heaven!!! pic.twitter.com/5iYiW320yY

— Tyler Perry (@tylerperry) October 7, 2019

EGOT Whoopi Goldberg was honored with a soundstage named after her:

What an honor to salute this EGOT legend! @WhoopiGoldberg pic.twitter.com/zn6SNgQNFP

— Tyler Perry (@tylerperry) October 7, 2019

And so did Hollywood titan Will Smith, who was accompanied by his wife Jada Pinkett Smith:

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Congrats to you @willsmith on your sound stage dedication at @tylerperrystudios. You are building such a beautiful legacy around a deeply impactful career in so many ways. I’m very proud of you. Continue to shine light on ... joy : @jas

A post shared by Jada Pinkett Smith (@jadapinkettsmith) on Oct 6, 2019 at 10:49am PDT

Before wrapping up the monumental weekend, Tyler held CHURCH outside on his studio lawn. His girlfriend Gelila Bekele and their 4-year-old son Aman were also in the mix.

Couldn’t close the weekend without Jesus meeting us on the lawn at the studio!! Having a full heart and a thankful soul to all that have prayed me all the way here. https://t.co/DbMSUNDaq1 pic.twitter.com/PFvHvQQsk9

— Tyler Perry (@tylerperry) October 7, 2019

Get into the gospel feels by SEEit Choir, led by Greg Kirkland Jr., below:

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#TylerPerry had his girlfriend #GelilaBekele and their 4-year-old son Aman right by his side as he wrapped up the #TylerPerryStudios soundstage dedication weekend this morning with a gospel choir led by #TashaPageLockhart, #Oprah #StedmanGraham #AvaDuvernay, #Diddy and more. Swipe for Ava’s explanation about just how epic and iconic this is for a black man to own - outright - Studios larger than any Studio in Hollywood, and bigger than Disney, Paramount, Warner, etc. combined. Congratulations isn’t a big enough word. #TylerPerry #YBFInspiration

A post shared by TheYBF (@theybf_daily) on Oct 6, 2019 at 3:24pm PDT

Bishop T. D. Jakes also delivered a word during the Sunday service. Several celebs were in attendance for the Sunday gospel service/brunch, including Oprah, former president Bill Clinton, former first lady Hillary Clinton, Jennifer Hudson, Bevy Smith, Tina Knowles Lawson, Nicole Ari Parker, Jenifer Lewis, Vanessa Williams, April Ryan, Anita Baker, Michelle Williams, Stacey Abrams, Kirk Franklin and more.

Peep flicks of celebs in attendance at Tyler's Sunday Brunch and their tributes below:

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@tylerperry you built the biggest studio in America, one that can fit all the other Hollywood studios combined and still have room to spare. You’ve also created a dream of hope and possibility for everyone to know that no matter who you are or where you come from, you can always do better when you’re aligned with the Divine. Thank you for the naming of the soundstages. I love mine. #GloryToGlory #ImagineThis

A post shared by Oprah (@oprah) on Oct 7, 2019 at 11:56am PDT

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Today’s sermon by @bishopjakes was titled A FRESH START. I truly believe he ignited the room this afternoon as we all celebrated @tylerperry and the opening of @tylerperrystudios! I am thankful for a fresh start! The past is OVER!! @tylerperry I am forever changed. I was sitting on the trolley as we were touring the grounds saying “wow, I’m here to witness this.” @tylerperrystudios sits on 330 acres, a former confederate army base. He bought it y’all!! Soundstages dedicated to #CicelyTyson, @whoopigoldberg, @willsmith, @officialspikelee, @oprah, @halleberry, @johnsingleton, @diahann_carroll, Ruby Dee and Ozzie Davis and #DenzelWashington. ——————————— Deets: Wearing @don_morphy Hat: @goorinbros Styled by @stylistjbolin Assisted by @_mekstyles_

A post shared by Michelle Williams (@michellewilliams) on Oct 6, 2019 at 4:55pm PDT

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On the plane back home still feeling the love and power of this weekend and saw this on the newstand in airport! Don’t hurt em Tyler !!! @tylerperry #thetylertakeover1

A post shared by Tina Knowles (@mstinalawson) on Oct 7, 2019 at 7:45am PDT

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I wish I could post pictures from inside this spectacular studio, but we’ve been asked to refrain. I got to experience the dedication ceremonies with my sister @teraduvernay and it was beyond. A black man owns a studio lot larger and more modern than any studio lot in Hollywood. Fun Fact: The studio lots of Disney, Warner Bros, Paramount, Fox and Sony could fit inside Tyler Perry’s studio lot at the same time - and there would still be 60 acres to spare. Jaw dropping. And all on a former Confederate Army base. Our ancestors rejoice. Twelve soundstages. A 200,000 square foot office complex. A whole neighborhood of historic homes and facades for film shooting. Perfectly manicured hedges all around. And beautiful black people working at all levels. A stunning achievement that will echo through the generations. Words can’t express the pride. And the joy. Bravo, @tylerperry. Stunning to witness. History made.

A post shared by Ava DuVernay (@ava) on Oct 6, 2019 at 8:25am PDT

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Ladies And Gentlemen,Boys And Girls-This Past Saturday Night My Brother TYLER PERRY Made History In Atlanta,Georgia With The Naming Of His Sound Stages. It Is With Honor And Humility That I Have A Stage Along With My Fellow Artists. Tyler,Da Whole Lee Family Thanks You. God Bless And Keep Keepin’ On Doin’ God’s Work. And Dat’s Da “BLACK MOGUL” Truth,Ruth.

A post shared by Spike Lee (@officialspikelee) on Oct 7, 2019 at 12:09pm PDT

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I’m so honored. I’m so proud. Thank you, thank you, thank you @tylerperry ! What you’ve done is astonishing and remarkable!

A post shared by WhoopiGoldberg (@whoopigoldberg) on Oct 7, 2019 at 2:31pm PDT

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Happy Sunday. Congratulations to Tyler Perry on the opening of his studios. I could feel our ancestors’ presence. Surrounded by my heroes, I watched Denzel, Queen Oprah, Spike, Whoopi, Sir Poitier, Will, Halle , Dame Cicely and our angels John Singleton and Diahann Carroll honored. The Armand de Brignac crashed against each soundstage as fireworks lit up the sky. Generations of blood, sweat and tears, success, excellence and brilliance. It makes me so proud, so full, I could not stop crying. Thank you my Virgo brother for so much love and passion put into every detail. My prayer today is that you will take it all in. You inspire me to dream even bigger.

A post shared by Beyoncé (@beyonce) on Oct 6, 2019 at 3:56pm PDT

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Last night was surreal - Overwhelmed with pride for @tylerperry, creator of the first black-owned major film studio in our HISTORY. To have shared in this moment in some small way, standing beside the most iconic talent in celebration of his accomplishment, was an absolute honor that I will never forget. Last night Tyler dared us to dream a bigger dream for ourselves, and today I dare each of you to do the same!

A post shared by Halle Berry (@halleberry) on Oct 6, 2019 at 11:03am PDT

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Such a glorious weekend celebrating @tylerperrystudios! Bravo @tylerperry! #tylerperrystudios

A post shared by Debbie Allen (@therealdebbieallen) on Oct 7, 2019 at 9:54am PDT

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Tyler Perry Studios’ grand opening was an amazing historical event. Very proud of you, Tyler!!! * * * #TylerPerry #TylerPerryStudios #Atlanta #JeniferLewis #TheMotherOfBlackHollywood #InTheseStreets

A post shared by Jenifer Lewis (@jeniferlewisforreal) on Oct 6, 2019 at 3:09pm PDT

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Here we are in the same room together. How much CUSSING, fun, and carrying on do you think went on??? * * * #TylerPerry #TylerPerryStudios #GrandOpening #SamuelLJackson #Atlanta #RedCarpet #JeniferLewis #TheMotherOfBlackHollywood #InTheseStreets

A post shared by Jenifer Lewis (@jeniferlewisforreal) on Oct 7, 2019 at 11:28am PDT

Bow x Bill Clinton pic.twitter.com/LgtcAkqXo6

— Bow Wow (@smoss) October 6, 2019

Dinner with the ceo of @ChickfilA pic.twitter.com/EbPMtaRzma

— Bow Wow (@smoss) October 7, 2019

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How could I forget to post my good sister @iamjhud who opened up #tylerperrystudios with the most soul stirring version of #ToDreamTheImpossibleDream which was essentially the theme song for the entire weekend! She also served major lewks each & every time! #ShesMyDreamGirl

A post shared by bevy smith (@bevysmith) on Oct 6, 2019 at 10:15pm PDT

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“You are so priceless to me & loving you has made me see with your love I can do most anything” - Priceless by the incomparable #AnitaBaker yes, I recited those lines to her & yes, I know I should have been embarrassed to do so but Miss.Baker was so gracious!!! I GAGGED when she said “Bev, I saw your feather (my @anthonymaxwell_ny hat has a very tall feather) throughout the service but I didn’t know it was you”! First off, in what universe would ANITA BAKER know who I am? I mean, come on son!!!! I had so many magical moments with ICONS this year, with them telling me they appreciate my work on my radio show & also telling it like it is on tv! The last quarter of this decade is dedicated to MOVING ON, climbing new heights, reaching, stretching! I’ve done the good work but God ain’t done with me yet, watch me work & yes, occasionally twerk! #Grateful #TylerPerryStudioOpening

A post shared by bevy smith (@bevysmith) on Oct 7, 2019 at 2:21am PDT

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Pucker Up....always a good time when I see @tarajiphenson @tylerperry had all the fab sepia dolls in ATL!

A post shared by bevy smith (@bevysmith) on Oct 7, 2019 at 11:50am PDT

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Pucker Up....always a good time when I see @tarajiphenson @tylerperry had all the fab sepia dolls in ATL!

A post shared by bevy smith (@bevysmith) on Oct 7, 2019 at 11:50am PDT

What a FABULOUS weekend! Major congrats to Tyler Perry!

Photo: Getty

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2019/10/07/celebs-shower-tyler-perry-with-love-after-his-studios%E2%80%99-historic-grand-opening-weekend

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thesinglesjukebox · 5 years ago

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The Singles Jukebox Celebrates 30 Years of Rhythm Nation 1814 (a Janet Jackson retrospective)

Janet Jackson’s had one hell of a career. It’d be glittering even if you were to cut the album she released 30 years ago this week out of history. And historic is what Rhythm Nation 1814 is, not like a war, but like a discovery; it was groundbreaking and influential and so much pop released in its wake owes it a debt of gratitude. The album contained seven top 10 singles in the U.S., each with indelible melodies, state-of-the-art beats and vivid music videos. Janet was always on the radio, always on TV, and welcome everywhere she went. She endured the failure of two albums and the weight of family baggage before reinventing herself, seizing artistic control and having one of the longest and brightest imperial phases of any pop star. Sex positive, romantic, assertive and wise, she’s an icon whose brilliance comes as much from how her songs make us feel about ourselves as they do about her.

Her familial connections might help explain her, but they didn’t define or limit her. She’s a sympathetic performer, an innovator in the development of music video as an art form (someone in her camp needs to fix up her spotty presence on video streaming sites, people need to see these videos in HD) and a smart, underrated songwriter in her own right. There’s a lot of Jackson in Beyonce, in Rihanna, in Britney, and in any woman who makes us smile and makes us dance. Because she did all those things over and over again.

Here’s a bunch of songs by Miss Jackson that moved us, or just made us move:

Katherine St Asaph on “Nasty” [8.14]

Date the quote: “[His] dance cuts have a format-friendly, artificial sheen … but she seems more concerned with identity than playlists.” This is not from 2019, about a post-Spotify pop star (I cheated a bit, leaving out a reference to “Arthur Baker dance breaks”) but from the ’80s. Specifically, it’s from the Rolling Stone review of Janet Jackson’s’s Control, the first half of which is a review of a comparatively nothing Jermaine Jackson album. This was typical: if press didn’t dismiss her as an biographical afterthought who happened to still sing, they wrote about her alongside her family, and specifically her brother. (This continues to this day: Note the sustained attention given to her response to Leaving Neverland, which ultimately was to join her family in condemning it.) The line everyone quotes is “Ms. Jackson if you’re nasty,” but more pointed is one of the lines that precedes it: “my last name is Control.”

The lyric to “Nasty” is full of that sort of role-reversal, like a swordfight where one guy yoinks the other guy’s sword — the sword being the “nasty groove.” But said groove possibly illustrates the lyric even better. Made by producers/former The Time members/future creative partners Jam & Lewis out of big ’80s percussion, plus clanks and repurposed orchestral stabs from an Ensoniq Mirage, one of the earliest sampling keyboards, it doesn’t sound martial exactly, like some of Jackson’s later work, but certainly sounds stark. It sounds like a challenge, one Janet takes up: her past soubrette voice drops to a throatier register, then is stoked into roars. The beat’s not quite its own thing; “Nasty” resembles experiments like Herbie Hancock’s “Metal Beat,” and in turn much of New Jack Swing resembles it. But how Jam & Lewis described it was a rapper’s beat — now standard for pop or R&B singers, from Destiny’s Child to Ariana Grande and Billie Eilish, when they want a tougher image. Meanwhile, Britney took Janet’s soft spoken-word interlude “I could learn to like this” and extrapolated an entire career from it — and covered it, unusually early in her career — but simplified it, mostly collapsing the context of family ties and dignity and creative control onto one axis: sex. But what they’re all doing is asserting this kind of Control.

Part of appreciating songs from the ’80s and ’90s is prying them out of the clutches of the era’s pop-culture jokification– I do like MST3K, but their sort of snappy “Nasty” joke is kind of what I mean. More than one article/restaurant review/listicle attempts to identify, meme-ily, Janet’s idea of “nasty food” (Janet’s answer, dubiously, was whole squid). A certain comment by a certain head of state gave the song a late-breaking sales boost But put on some ’80s radio (or a contemporary playlist of people copying ’80s radio) and wait for “Nasty” to come on. The rest of the radio will flinch.

Kat Stevens on “What Have You Done For Me Lately?” [8.67]

“What Have You Done For Me Lately?” is a sparse, angry snap of a song, the overspill of weeks and months of gradually-building resentment. It’s taken a nudge from bezzie mate Paula Abdul for Janet to fully admit her relationship has gone sour: her once fun-loving, adoring beau has become complacent, content to put his feet up on the sofa and take Janet for granted. Should she leave? She loves him! Or does she? Should love really feel like a heavy weight, pressing down on you? Like your stomach won’t stop churning? Like letting the phone ring out unanswered rather than deal with his temper? Like maybe it’s your fault that he’s like this? “Who’s right? Who’s wrong?” Janet is determined to make a decision with a clear head, but the anxiety and hormones are bubbling underneath (“I never ask for more than I deserve…“). Thankfully Jam & Lewis are on hand with a clinical, whipcrack beat — snap out of it, Janet! The tension manifests itself in her zigzagging shoulders, hunched and strained and contorted, primed to lash out – just as he walks through the door! Janet is wary, but her dude is on his best behaviour, puppy-dog eyes, I’ll do better from now on, I swear. They dance perfectly in time together, remembering the good times: all is forgiven. Surely Janet hasn’t fallen for the same old lines, doomed to repeat the cycle? Paula is rolling her eyes: ugh, not this bullshit again… Then, as the happy couple laugh together over dinner, Janet glances back at us, and the smile falls from her face. The decision has been made. As soon as Mr ‘Not All Men’ leaves for work in the morning, she’s putting her passport in a safety deposit box and setting up a secret savings account to fund her getaway. The plan is in motion. You’ve got one life to life.

Thomas Inskeep on “Diamonds” (Herb Alpert ft. Janet Jackson) [6.80]

After “The Pleasure Principle,” this might actually be my favorite Janet Jackson single (even though she’s technically the featured artist on it). “Diamonds,” written and produced by Jimmy “Jam” Harris and Terry Lewis for Herb Alpert’s 1987 album Keep Your Eye on Me, is, in all but name, a Jam/Lewis/Janet record — with a few Alpert trumpet flourishes. The beats rock hard, and Janet delivers what may be (and certainly was at the time) her most IDGAF vocal: you’re gonna get Miss Jackson (because you’re clearly nasty) some diamonds, aren’t you?

Alfred Soto on “The Pleasure Principle” [8.43]

For all the banter over the years about the cold and steel of Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis’ beats for Control, the coldest and steeliest they had no hand in creating. Songwriter Monte Moir, like Jam and Lewis also a The Time alum, stumbled on the title first: “I had to figure out what it was I was trying to say, I just stumbled into the title and realized it fit.” Sung by Jackson in her airiest, most insouciant coo, “The Pleasure Principle” starts with bass synth and cowbell before settling down into a matter-of-fact tale of a night of sin. To visualize the concept, choreographer Barry Lather put together one of Jackson’s most iconic videos, a masterpiece of athleticism involving chairs. Too cold and steely for the audience, or perhaps the hype cycle for a sixth single had exhausted itself: “The Pleasure Principle” missed the top ten in the summer of 1987, stopping at #14. So ignore the single mix and revel in Shep Pettibone’s Long Vocal Remix.

Kat Stevens on “Let’s Wait Awhile” [6.60]

Can you have an erection-section classic that’s primarily about abstinence? “Let’s Wait Awhile” has all the features of a late-night Magic FM request slot regular: soft electric piano, finger clicks instead of drums, lyrics about promises and feelings and stars shining bright. But this message is about trust, not lust. It takes courage to admit that you’re not ready, and it requires faith in the other person that they’re not going to be a dick about it. I remember the advice columns in Just 17 repeating over and over that as Informed Young Women we shouldn’t be pressured into sex, which was all well and good until it actually came to the act of Doing It, whereupon the fug of hormones and internalised misogyny meant that all rationality went out of the window. It’s the sign of how strong and confident Janet is in her relationship, that she can be ‘real honest’ and discuss her concerns freely with her partner, without worrying that he’s going to a) dump her b) tell his mates that she’s frigid or c) ‘persuade’ her round to his point of view (*shudder*). If he’s not willing to wait, maybe he’s not such an ideal person to be doing this sort of stuff with in the first place? I can hear the dude whining to his mate now: “I took her out for dinner and all I got was a perfectly vocalised key change!” Just 17 would be proud of you, Janet.

Jessica Doyle on “Miss You Much” [7.83]

A little context: in March 1989 Natalie Cole released “Miss You Like Crazy,” a ballad built for Cole to sing wide about longing. In June Paula Abdul released the third single off Forever Your Girl, “Cold Hearted,” whose video made a point of its group choreography. And then in late August came “Miss You Much,” the first single from Rhythm Nation 1814. Did Janet Jackson have beef with her ex-choreographer? Was that the kind of thing people talked about, in the pre-poptimist, pre-TMZ era? Because in retrospect “Miss You Much” looks like a dismissal of “Cold Hearted,” cool and upright where the latter was David-Fincher-directed sleazy. (By contrast, the director of “Miss You Much,” Dominic Sena, had already treated Jackson with respect in the video for “The Pleasure Principle.”) But also “Miss You Much” plays as a broader statement, a refusal of expectations. There’s nothing sad or ballad-like about it. There’s that opening high of “sho-o-ot,” and then Jackson’s on a roll: it’s all about her, the deliciousness of her feeling; she can barely bother to describe the “you” being missed so much besides the blanditries of smiling face and warm embrace. The power in “I’ll tell your mama/I’ll tell your friends/I’ll tell anyone whose heart can comprehend” isn’t in the longing; it’s in how much she relishes being the one who gets to do the telling. By 1989 she was in control enough to not have to utter the word once. “Miss You Much” isn’t a deep song, didn’t set out to accomplish as much as the title track or later songs like “That’s the Way Love Goes” or “Together Again” would. But thirty years later it still looks and sounds like (what we now call) a power move.

Katie Gill on “Rhythm Nation” [8.57]

How does one try to condense the reach and influence of “Rhythm Nation” in a single blurb? Entire articles have been written about this song and video (because really, you can’t talk about the song without talking about the video). It’s influenced singers, dancers, directors, choreographers. It won a Grammy as well as two MTV Music Video Awards when those awards actually mattered. The choreography is perfect. Jackson and her dancers move with military-like precision, flawlessly executing maneuvers and creating a dance that would almost instantly become part of the popular consciousness. The sound is amazing. That bass groove is so tight, adding a layer of funk which the guitar takes to further levels. The tune is an absolute earworm, the chorus is iconic, and Jackson’s vocals are at the best of their game. But I think the most important part of “Rhythm Nation” is that this absolute banger of a song, this masterclass in choreography, has remarkably idealistic lyrics. Jackson’s “Rhythm Nation” yearns towards a racially and socially conscious utopia as it attempts to unite people to join together and create this utopia. In a lesser artist, these lyrics would be out and out corny. But when wrapped up in the final package, the lyrics go from corny to believable. Suddenly, the idea of the whole world helping each other or rising up in protest doesn’t sound so far-fetched.

Alfred Soto on “Escapade” [7.67]

With solo credits as common as hair metal solos in Janet Jackson music, I often listen to tracks like “Escapade” and wonder: what did Janet Jackson contribute? Lyrics? Sure. But she has to write them around a Jimmy Jam-Terry Lewis melody, no? Or, as is no doubt the case, she comes up with her own vocal melody to accompany their chord progressions. According to Jam, the trio had “Nowhere to Run” in mind: first as a cover song, then as inspiration. “Escapade” hopscotches away from the sense of danger animating the Martha and the Vandellas chestnut; in 1989, into the eclipse of a grim decade for black lives, looking forward to Friday and drinks and friends would have to do. Over Jam and Lewis’ unrelenting thwack, Jackson sing-songs a valentine to a shy boy whom she hopes will join her in — what? The sheer euphoria of the bridge — a melody as bright as a returned smile — suggests worlds of possibilities when the check’s cashed and the night’s young. After all, MINNEAPOLIS!

Leah Isobel on “Alright” [7.14]

Rhythm Nation might have more banging singles, and it might have songs that more directly diagnose the ills of late capitalism, but no song on the record better encapsulates its utopian aims than “Alright.” Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis famously left the high end of Janet’s songs empty to provide space for her delicate soprano; here, they fill the low end with vocal samples, percussion, submerged synth blats, and tense bass licks. Instead of singing high for the whole track, however, Janet buries lyrical references to magic spells and the end of the world in her lower register, where they blend into the rest of the song. It’s only on the chorus, and particularly on her swooping vocal runs as she riffs on the phrase “you’re alright with me,” that she surfaces from the swirl. On a record where she spends so much time and thought discussing what’s wrong around her, here she takes the time to see and acknowledge what’s right. I don’t know that I’ve heard a better sonic analogue for finding relief from chaos: one voice against a wall of voices and sounds, getting lost and being found over and over to the comforting rhythm of a pop song.

Edward Okulicz on “Black Cat” [6.57]

“Black Cat” was never the huge stylistic U-turn it was perceived as. Janet’s brother had dabbled in rock guitars, and this is in that vein too, while still being of a piece with the other songs on the album. Where it succeeds is because it doesn’t just lean into rock, it’s as credible a rock song as it is a dance-pop song — the riff, which Jackson wrote herself, kicks ass, the drums shake a room as much as the cavernous thuds of her contemporaneous singles, and the song’s melody and the fierce vocal performance straddle both worlds. And if you don’t like the mix there’s like 900 different versions with 2000 different guitarists — only a slight exaggeration. Its overall success is testament to Janet’s persona, sure, because nothing she released could have failed at this point, but you can’t go to Number One with single number six off an album without your usual co-writers and producers unless you’ve written something that connects with listeners and performed it with power. The way she slams down on “don’t understand… why you… insist…” is a moment of perplexed, angry humanity in the middle of a song that tries to understand something tragic — the corrosion of drugs and gangs on young people’s lives — and while the soloing is a little hammy, the song escapes being embarrassingly corny. Because in fact the whole song kicks ass.

Pedro Joao Santos on “Love Will Never Do (Without You)” [8.71]

One of the greatest pleasures in getting into Janet is how deliriously bold all of her work is. A story, if you will: how Jimmy & Terry stepped in to support her emancipation and helped her invent new jack swing all within Control, before taking the formula apart in Rhythm Nation 1814, aiming for pop that was both a manifesto against bigotry and, between a balm and a corrective, a rush of love. It was designed for high impact, meaning it would’ve always been a pop juggernaut — the material was there, even if the marketing was oblique, which it was. Instead of a glamour shot in Technicolor and a flirtatious title, the 12 million copies sold feature a stark black and white portrait backed by a call-to-arms; the pop froth is smattered around the backbone of topical anthems.

From single to single, A&M skittered between the two sides and amassed consecutive top 10 singles, but it was the last calling card that proved career-defining. At first, “Love Will Never Do (Without You)”’s hard-edged beats scan identical to “Rhythm Nation”’s sonic matrix: belligerent and completed by Janet’s frontal vox, only in this instance driven through a more feminine marketing (the music video is a blueprint). That’s the first trick: she unexpectedly launches into the first verse in a tentative, lightly hostile lower register (“like a guy would,” said Jimmy Jam, as it was to be a duet) and keeps it until the chorus wraps up. It’s pop as friction. By the second verse, Janet goes up an octave and matches the now-bubbling passion at the forefront. The tiny synth countdown drives it into a perpetual unfolding, each time emerging to add more (vocal) layers to the cacophony and threaten to wrap it up, before coming back in force.

Janet’s head voice soars up to the grand finale, a pop cataclysm of an ending, one of the best in recorded history — which applies to the entirety of “Love Will Never Do,” a simultaneous pitch for chaotic head-over-heels energy and blockbuster status. It’s a bizarre ride and a joyous knockout: the honeymoon phase juiced into one relentless beast of a banger, one that changed pop for good.

Jackie Powell on “State of the World” [6.67]

“State of the World” deserved a music video. At its heart, this is a dance cut with a little bit less of the hard rock that roars in “Rhythm Nation.” In content and in sound, this track is a sequel and that’s not a criticism. It’s an expansion which encourages a foot tap by the listener and includes an absolutely integral bassline that drives this track through and through. While the song clocks in at under five minutes and could have been a bit shorter, its chorus, which crescendos in clarity and volume, makes up for it. In addition to Jackson’s delivery on the verses, which is rather understated, the sound effects which illustrate “State of the World” aren’t too kitschy. The cries and crashes aren’t as apparent as in brother Michael’s “Earth Song” for instance, and that’s appropriate. The politics had to run as smooth as the bass on this track, and they did. They didn’t serve as a distraction, but rather as an asset. Janet was the master of New Jack Swing, and while folks look to her brother’s album Dangerous as the most successful of this genre, Janet experimented with it first. The percussive repetition, serves a purpose for Jackson on the record. It maintains the same intensity throughout as it reflects exactly what she has to say. Lyrically, I wish that Jackson explained how her “Nation” would “weather the storm.” To this day, homelessness and poverty are issues that affect people continuously. Jackson states the cornerstone rather than the specifics, and maybe that’s okay. It’s something that in 2019 we need more than ever. While unity appears so far out of our reach, Janet attested as early as 1991 that we can’t stop and shan’t stop.

Thomas Inskeep on “The Best Things in Life Are Free” (with Luther Vandross, BBD and Ralph Tresvant) [7.60]

To soundtrack his 1992 film Mo’ Money, Damon Wayans (who wrote and starred in the critically-derided box office hit) called upon superproducers Jam & Lewis, and they did work, producing or co-producing 13 of the album’s 14 tracks and writing or co-writing 12 of them. The soundtrack’s lead single was very pointedly a “look at all the cool stars we got together” move, featuring superstars Vandross and Jackson duetting, along with a brief rap bridge from Bell Biv DeVoe (credited here as BBD) and their New Edition compadre Ralph Tresvant. Released as a single in May 1992, it’s a perfect summertime smash, simultaneously airy-light and slammin’, with Vandross and Jackson weaving in and out of each other’s vocals effortlessly. BBD and Tresvant pop in with a nothingburger of a rap (Tresvant gets a label credit for literally uttering one line, the song’s title) that at least serves to provide a modicum of grit to the proceedings, but no matter: Jackson especially sounds breezier than maybe ever, while Vandross seems to float above the record. The two are magical on a track perfectly suited for them (credit Jam & Lewis, of course), and the result is a minor classic.

Jonathan Bogart on “That’s the Way Love Goes” [7.86]

A little over a year ago I rather overshared in this space when discussing Madonna’s “Erotica,” released a year before this single. A year makes a lot of difference: by the time I was listening to Shadoe Stevens count this down on American Top 40, the summer it became the longest-running #1 hit any Jackson family member ever had, radio pop was no longer a dirty, soul-damning secret, just a daily companion, a window into a more colorful, adult, and interesting world than the ones I knew from books. I would probably have had a healthier relationship to romance and sexuality, in fact, if this had been my introduction to overtly sexual pop rather than “Erotica” — both songs share the technique of a sultry spoken-word refrain, but Janet’s is actually grown-up, with the confidence of a woman who knows what she wants and how to achieve it, with none of Madonna’s juvenile need to épater les bourgeois. As it happened I didn’t particularly connect to “That’s the Way Love Goes,” having reached the stage in my adolescence when getting a charge out of raspy-voiced men singing about political instability felt like the more gender-appropriate inevitability. It wouldn’t be until years later when I returned to re-examine the radio pop of my youth with maturer ears that the amazing miracle of this song fully dawned on me: those pillowy guitar samples plucked from songs where raspy-voiced men sang about political instability, but pressed into service of a loping, candlelit coo: equal parts seduction and vulnerability, Janet singing with the authority of someone who had already conquered the world about the grown-woman concerns that really matter: love, and sex, and the impossible beauty that results when they intertwine.

David Moore on “If” [8.33]

Janet Jackson sang explicitly about “nasty boys,” but I was, to use a term my son’s preschool teacher used to describe him, a timid boy, and I soaked up the privileges of maleness with a corresponding fear of performative masculinity. My love of women through childhood was paired with a deep-seated self-loathing that snuffed out friendships, made me uncomfortable in my body, and sparked intense, violent fantasies directed toward unnamed aggressors in my mind, all those “bad guys.” I wouldn’t be able to reflect on any of this until adulthood. But there was a point in preadolescence when the contours of the trap started to become discernible, and Janet Jackson’s “If” was both a cherished song — one I would listen to rapt in front of MTV or on the radio, legs haphazardly splayed behind me — and was also the uncanny soundtrack to my discomfort: a muscular, menacing, alien object that completely unnerved me, made me a supplicant to its rhythm, got into my head and into my guts, made me move, if only for a minute, in a world that glanced contemptuously toward — but stood defiantly outside of — that toxic timidity. I was the woman telling the man what I wanted, and I was also the man obeying; I was the dancer and I was the floor, too. On “If,” Janet Jackson and Jam & Lewis tamed the New Jack Squall that her brother unleashed on Dangerous with Teddy Riley, insisted upon its lockstep subservience to her mission and her groove, and pointed to an R&B futurism that was barely a twinkle in pop music’s eye in 1993. The result is simultaneously mechanistic and wild, rolling waves of noise that you quickly learn to surf or risk drowning in them. That same year, I also found inspiration in angry men, many of them likely nasty ones, the same men I would have assiduously avoided in person and fought off in my dreams. But Janet Jackson kept me honest, reminded me that my anger was a tell for my underlying cowardice and shame. There is never a hint in “If” that her hypothetical proposition — too strident for any coyness or the suggestion of flirting — could ever be satisfactorily answered. Not by you anyway. No boy, nasty or timid, could meet Janet Jackson’s challenge; she’s mocking the guy who would even try. By the time you hit that cacophony of a middle 8 break, defibrillation on an already racing heartbeat, you’re defeated, more thoroughly than any bad guy you might have dreamt up. You’re not ready for this world — you’re not, so you can’t, and you won’t. But what if…?

Jonathan Bradley on “Again” [5.67]

It sounds like a fairy tale: billowing keys, Janet’s tinkling voice, and no drums to earth the fantasy. “Again” was from John Singleton’s Poetic Justice, not a Disney picture, but it shimmers with its own magic anyway. The melody is gorgeous: listen to Janet measuring out the descending syllables in “suddenly the memories came back to me” like they’re sinking in as she sings the words. (She repeats the motif on “making love to you/oh it felt so good and so right” — this is a romance where the sex is as fondly remembered as the emotions.) Janet Jackson is such a versatile performer, and for all the bold strokes and blunt rhythmic force of her best known moments, “Again” is a treasure all of its own for being none of these: it is tiny and tender and sparkles with a real joy that is all the more wondrous for sounding like it could not exist outside of a storybook.

Scott Mildenhall on “Whoops Now” [4.83]

Even outside America, there’s a widespread tendency for people, in search of a lifetime’s grand narrative, to define everything that happened before The Day The World Changed – a coincidental proxy for their childhood, youth or adolescence – as a simpler time. It’s a convenient illusion for anyone in the world lucky enough to be able to believe it, whose formative years were insulated from war or suffering and can be instead defined by the most carefree scraps of pop culture. In that respect “Whoops Now” holds great temptation, it being the breeziest brush-off of burdens, with an all-over Teflon disposition. It’s therefore an almost fantastical ideal of ’90s radio (and still one of Janet’s most played in the UK); a warm and fuzzy-round-the-edges memory of which on closer inspection, the details are inscrutable. Janet, aloft in a proletarian reverie, relates a confusing tale of overnight shift work, a hindrance of a boss and the consequent curtailing of her plans for some fun in the sun this weekend with her friends (who, judging by her extended roll call, seem to mostly be record execs, producers and performers, as well as dogs). Narratively, it’s difficult to tease apart, but all you need to know is that hurrah – she somehow ends up on holiday anyway. A story that sounds more like something from an expletive-laden segment of Airline thus becomes the most casual celebration of the apparent inevitability of positive resolutions when you’re a globe-straddling megastar, or perhaps just a kid in the back of your parents’ car with the radio on. With that certainty of happiness and universal balance, and the belief that it ever was or could be, it’s fantasy upon fantasy upon fantasy. But no bother: Anguilla here we come.

Nortey Dowuona on “Throb” [6.86]

I started listening to Janet Jackson as a happy accident. Her songs were on Atlantic Radio, but nowhere else. I barely heard her music growing up and only knew of her massive career, and not the music that made it so huge.

So when I first pressed play on “Throb,” I was kinda scandalized.

Because it was so directly, overtly sexual, and confident about it. Janet was ready to get down and dirty, without all the mind games, patronization and bullpuddy packed all over it. The lyrics are pretty straightforward, and there are only ten lines of lyrics. Its pretty clear what Janet wants, and she’s gonna get it.

Plus, the bass was slamming, it slunk around my neck and just rested there while the air horn synths washed over my eyes, blinding me. The drums then stepped over me and plucked me up, with cooing and cascading moans and grunts swirled around my body, shredding me to pieces —

Then the song ended. And it was over.

I honestly, can’t really say why this is my favorite Janet song, but I can say that you should probably play it while having sex, and while thinking about having sex, and play this late night in the night if deciding to have sex. I know this’ll be the first thing I’ll play if I have sex with anyone.

Thomas Inskeep on “Throb”

In the summer of 1993, I’d just finished my second freshman year of college, in my hometown. (I’d gone to college straight out of high school in 1988, and dropped out without much to show for it, 16 months later.) One of my best girlfriends had herself just graduated from college and was back at her parents’ house, job-hunting. We were both past 21 and looking for a place to go dancing, and we found it in the nearest big city, Fort Wayne, Indiana, about 45 minutes away. It was a short-lived gay bar — so short-lived I don’t even recall its name, sadly — with a dance floor roughly the size of a postage stamp. I don’t remember meeting anyone there, ever. (I didn’t drive at the time, so Julie always had to, so it’s not like I could’ve gone home with someone anyway.) I don’t remember anything about the bar — except its dancefloor, and the fact that they had a decent DJ on the weekends, who mostly played house music, which I loved. And there were three songs that got played, in my memory at least, every single week. (And Julie and I really did go just about every weekend that summer.)

The first was Bizarre Inc.’s “I’m Gonna Get You,” an ebullient diva-house track which topped Billboard’s Dance Club/Play chart in January but was just peaking at pop radio in June. The second was, really, the gay club record of the year, RuPaul’s “Supermodel.” It peaked at #2 on the Dance Club/Play chart in March, but never left gay clubs at all through 1993. When that got played at the club, I would, week-in, week-out, “work the runway,” lip-syncing my ass off. (It’s just that kind of song.) And the third was an album track from a newly-released album (that would, in fact, eventually be promoted to dance clubs at peak at #2 on the Club/Play chart), Janet Jackson’s “Throb.” This song went where Jackson never had before, both musically (it’s a straight-up house jam) and lyrically (it’s a straight-up sex jam). Its lyrics are minimal but to the point: “I can feel your body/Pressed against my body/When you start to poundin’/Love to feel you throbbin’.” No subtleties there! Accordingly, Julie and I would spend the song grinding up against each other on a tiny riser at the back of the dance floor, because why not? And because it’s fun.

26 years later, ‘Throb” still kills. And throbs.

Maxwell Cavaseno on “Runaway” [6.50]

My childhood managed to dodge the oceanic nature of pop thanks to being struck between two extremes. My father usually kept the car full of rap, via cassettes of assorted rising stars of the moment (Big Pun, Nas, Various Wu-Tang Soloists) or whatever was playing via Hot 97. Meanwhile my mother typically wallowed in a realm of AOR pop a la Amy Grant or the likes who you could never remember anything about. If there was anything majorly important in the history of pop music from 89-98, lemme tell you, that shit didn’t happen anywhere near me. However, one of the few memories that did manage to linger on was “Runaway.” It was a record that managed to ethereally sneak up to me like some kind of weird creep that I just couldn’t understand with its weird foreign instrumentation simulating orientalist visions and Janet’s background vocals harmonizing like a bunch of Buddhist Cats sneering a la Randy Savage’s “nyeeeah.” Whenever I trailed along in supermarkets or tried to keep busy in waiting rooms, I could comprehend what happened on other songs I liked in the outer world like “Take a Bow” or “Kiss From A Rose.” But this? How did you rationalize all of these gliding vocals crooning and this swarm of glittery noises when you have barely any understanding of the world around you, let alone music? No matter how much further away and away I’d get from whenever it was meant to be a single, it could still disruptively appear in the wild and send the whole day into a state of disarray. It’s so alarming to know now as a grown adult that I can personally summon this ifrit of a single, rather than think of it as some sort of rare sighting of trickster energy (all the more bolstered by Janet’s ad libbed teasing of supposed imperfection and other-human excess) that isn’t meant to be heard more than once in a blue moon. To be honest, I may just forget altogether after the fact, the same way I never remembered the name of the song even when considering it for review. Just that “nyeeeah” hung around in my memory.

Danilo Bortoli on “Got ’til It’s Gone” [6.17]

In Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi”, a cut from her 1970 album Ladies of the Canyon, she sang of impeding progress as a form of destruction (“They paved paradise/And put up a parking lot”). Often seen as as environmental anthem, actually, she was looking back at the sixties, and then seeing, right ahead, a decade that showcased no promising future, only aching skepticism. This resulted in one the purest, simplest lines she has ever written: “Don’t it always seem to go/That you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone”. Almost thirty years later, Janet Jackson conjured those same thoughts, conveying, instead, a different meaning. The Velvet Rope was her very own game of smoke and mirrors, and intimate and often misleading look at her private life. Lying at the center of that album, there is a delicate tribute. “Got ‘til It’s Gone” features a well-placed sample from that line culled from “Big Yellow Taxi.” The context is entirely different however. Here, the same words are uttered between confessions of love. It helps, then, that “Got ‘til It’s Gone” is, in reality, a talk. It’s the way Janet asks “What’s the next song?”. It’s the way Q-Tip responds “Like Joni says.” It’s also the way he asserts finally: “Joni Mitchell never lies.” The brilliance of a sample travelling three decades is that it is deliciously meta. The concept of truth, in Janet Jackson’s universe, is interchangeable. That way, she, too, can never lie.

Josh Love on “Together Again” [6.86]

Together Again was originally conceived as a ballad, and no wonder – it’s a deeply sentimental (borderline treacly, if I’m being uncharitable) song about death and angels and reuniting in the afterlife in heaven. Deciding to record it as a surging house jam instead was an absolute masterstroke, and the result is one of the most purely joyous, transcendent moments of Janet’s career. The idea of carrying a lost loved one in your heart and feeling their spirit in the goodness you encounter in the world, and even the thought of one day joining together with them again in the great beyond – “Together Again” makes you feel that joy rather than merely verbalizing it. So many of us say that when we die we want those we leave behind to celebrate our lives rather than mourn our passing, but Janet is one of the few artists to really bring that radical acceptance of impermanence to life.

Thomas Inskeep on “I Get Lonely” (TNT Remix) [7.43]

Allow me to be cynical for a moment: Janet Jackson, in 1998, is still a superstar. But in the past five years, she’s only had one R&B #1, ‘94’s sex-jam “Any Time, Any Place” (assisted greatly by its R. Kelly remix). So if you’re thinking “What do we do to get Janet back to the summit,” what do you do? Well, it’s 1998. How about calling in Teddy Riley? Better yet, how about he gets a helping hand from Timbaland? And the best: how about Teddy brings his merry men of BLACKstreet with him for a vocal assist? Ergo, “I Get Lonely (TNT Remix),” now label-credited to “Janet [she was just going by “Janet” at the time] featuring BLACKstreet.”

And you know what? It’s genius. The idea, brilliant. The execution, top-notch. Riley on the remix, with instrumental help from Timbo, with guest vocals from BLACKstreet: it’s more exciting than the original (which was already quite good), has a little more junk in its trunk (those should-be-patented instrumental tics that Timbaland is such a wizard with, ohmygod, much like Janet’s big brother’s vocal tics), and the duet vocals are superb (especially as it was so rare to hear Janet singing with others at the time, and every member of BLACKstreet save Riley was a great-to-marvelous singer). Presto! Two weeks atop the R&B chart in May 1998, along with a #3 Hot 100 peak. Mission accomplished — and fortunately, it works even better artistically than it did commercially. Everybody wins!

Pedro Joao Santos on “Go Deep” [7.14]

That The Velvet Rope’s party song is so heavy on gravitas and spine-tingling urgency speaks volumes. In an album so hellbent on carnal and psychological openness, the party of “Go Deep” goes deeper, and makes sense. It’s not just the top-20 banger it factually was, and it’s not just hedonism for the sake of it. That is, if you don’t divorce it from the wounds of longing, manipulation, abuse and distress being sliced fresh. Tension lies within this absolute romp, placed midway through the red-hot catharsis of Rope. It might be that the party acts as a salve for the trauma. Though it isn’t put into words, you can hear it subliminally: Janet’s hesitant vocal; the evocative, near-melancholy synth fluctuating about. You can even imagine the words as portals: making friends come together as support; the sexual come-ons not just because, but maybe as physical relief for the pain.

A bare-bones lyric sheet would give you nothing — but music as context goes a long way. And the music itself from “Go Deep” gets me in raptures after all these years, from that ridiculous boing (perhaps best known from “I Can’t Dance” by Genesis) to the bass driving it, all chunky and rubbery, and the dramatic string arpeggios in the middle-8. If there’s got to be a template for urgent, carnivorous Friday night anthems, let this be the one — and keep it in context.

Leonel Manzanares de la Rosa on “You” [7.00]

The Velvet Rope carries a strong and fascinating legacy; It is rightly praised as a predecessor to both mainstream R&B’s exploration of the intimate (the body) and the spiritual (the soul) in the continuing decades, and to the experimental scope and atmospherics later adopted by today’s so-called “Alt-R&B,” and this extraordinary mixture of elements is never more efficient than in the album’s third track “You.” The song is, first and foremost, a triumph of production genius. Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis’s use of space, and the dynamic at play between the then-cutting-edge electronica ingredients and neo-soul’s earnestness and sensual themes, should itself be a case study for aspiring producers, but it’s the way Janet’s vocals are performed and filtered through the track that take the song to unsuspected levels of greatness. There is something in the breathy, low-pitched verses that exudes unadulterated eroticism, and when the post-chorus harmonies kick in where things really become ecstatic. In several interviews, Janet herself defined this album as “baby-making music”, and I can safely bet that “You” is the song she was thinking about. And its echoes still reverberate today, not only in the sound of R&B to come, but in the fact that thousands of people were conceived to this very beat.

Edward Okulicz on “Free Xone” [6.83]

I remember it only vaguely; it was 1995, and for drama class we had to do a performance based on a social theme using a combination of media and methods. I was in a group with a big Janet fan, who decided to use her music as the basis of a combination spoken-word, mime and dance performance on racism. I only understanding the themes in the abstract because I was young, sheltered, and white. I knew racism was a thing I didn’t like, but it wasn’t an existential threat to me. Two years later, on “Free Xone,” Janet would speak directly to me and tell me of a bleak present with the promise of a better future. Janet told it like it was, and still is for many: if you are gay, despite the fact that love is love, a lot of people are going to hate you or at least be uncomfortable around you. Homophobia isn’t just violence or hostility, it can be any kind of social rejection, and it can happen anywhere, as it does in the anecdote in the first part of the song, where a pleasant conversation with a person sitting next to you on an airplane sours because of it.

Janet Jackson is a dancer, but she didn’t dance around anything if she didn’t have to. She leaned into her status as a gay icon out of love, not necessity. But she made her social justice songs out of both love and necessity. Hating people is so not mellow. Love and sex are never wrong. Janet Jackson has never resiled from that belief, and never shied away from putting it in song. I’d grown up listening to Janet Jackson, but I’d never thought of her as an ally for myself, and it was intensely comforting to hear that she was on my side when nobody else seemed to be (Meshell Ndegeocello’s “Leviticus Faggot” the previous year had more or less convinced me I’d die in the closet).

In 2019, her funk here sounds a little dinky, the transitions between the soft groove and the raucous party bounce are kind of awkward, and the weird song structure sounds like it was cut and pasted together, but it’s a collage of compelling pieces. It got quite a lot of play on the alternative youth station here, the one whose listeners were at the time generally terrified of a) pop superstars, b) Black artists, and c) dancing. Someone thought the kids needed to hear this, and they were right. “Free Xone” helped my nascent consciousness come to grips with earlier songs that I’d just considered a good time before. Its story is less common in the Western world, now, but it’s still true as history for some, and as present for others.

Leonel Manzanares de la Rosa on “Tonight’s the Night” [4.50]

I’m a sucker for good covers; we usually tend to give songwriting, the cult of the inspired author, and the concept of originality a certain mystique that grossly overshadows the importance of skilful creative interpretation and re-invention. But many of our most important singers are essentially covers artists — Joe Cocker, Tom Jones, Bettye Lavette, a huge number of blues and jazz singers, most of the 50s-60s Greenwich Village folk scene — because of course we need these musicians to give these tunes another dimension, whether stylistic, generational, or purely emotional. Also, a song’s perspective can change dramatically because of who is singing. “Tonight’s The Night” works with Rod’s gravelly, rugged voice, and, although it can sound a bit creepy by today’s standards, the arrangements carry it beautifully, but in Janet’s sexually adventurous, musically exuberant The Velvet Rope, it acquires a new dimension, a far more interesting one, might I add. From Janet’s view, and the brilliant decision of not changing genders in the lyrics, her version alludes to bisexuality in a way that makes complete sense within’ the album’s core subject matters, and works wonders within’ its production philosophy. Stewart later presented his live renditions of the song by saying “This is an original by Janet Jackson”. No one will refute that. It’s her song now.

Alex Clifton on “All For You” [6.86]

“All For You” is the first Friday night you go out with your new college friends and that utter sense of freedom where you realize the night is yours without a curfew. It’s sparkling fairy lights in the background, a disco ball overhead, at a roller rink or at a club with a fancy light-up dancefloor, maybe a stolen swig of rum on your tongue. It’s the moment you see someone new and your heart falls into your stomach with no prior warning, and you suddenly know you’ll do anything to talk to them. You simply have to; it’s an animal urge, chemicals and hormones whizzing through you and making it hard to walk because you’re giddy. Maybe you’re braver than I am and you go talk to the person who’s snagged your attention, but maybe you hang back with your friends and pretend you’re not watching out for your crush while also dancing stupidly with your new friends. There’s a pure exhilaration in this song that many have tried to emulate but few match the ease with which Janet performs. She’s flirty and sexy like no other, but “All For You” also makes you, the listener, feel flirty and sexy too — something about it worms its way into you and becomes the shot of confidence you need. Lots of people can write songs about dancing at the club, but Janet turns it into a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Jibril Yassin on “Someone to Call My Lover” [7.00]

Does falling in love always feel the same every time? It’s one thing to keep pushing on in life but what’s striking about “Someone to Call My Lover” is how infectious Janet’s optimism is. Built on an Erik Satie riff by way of the band America, Janet recast herself as a woman excited to love again. Let it be on the record – long-term relationships are fucking terrifying. Moving on from the dissolution of a marriage is disorienting and the songs that use Janet’s divorce as inspiration on All For You share a tentative yet firm belief in renewal.

She uses “maybe” on “Someone to Call My Lover” the way one throws out a “lol” after shooting their shot – you don’t even have time to catch it amid her grocery store list of wishes for her future love. “Someone to Call My Lover” hits all the right places thanks to the careful and immaculate production but it’s Janet’s sincerity that marks it as her best twee performance.

Will Adams on “Son Of A Gun” [5.20]

Given All For You’s post-divorce setting, it was only appropriate that after the aural sunbeam of the title track and giddy optimism of “Someone to Call My Lover,” Janet would do a 180 and proceed to rip him a new one. The opening taunts — “Ha-ha, hoo-hoo, thought you’d get the money too” — against the throbbing kick bass set the scene, but the true genius of “Son of a Gun” comes from its sampling and modernization of ultimate kiss-off song “You’re So Vain.” The classic bass riff, once soft in Carly Simon’s original, is now razor-sharp. The cavernous drum beats sound like you’re trapped in an underground dungeon. All the while, Janet mutters burn after burn right into your ear (“I’d rather keep the trash and throw you out”) before Simon launches into the “I betcha think this song is about you” refrain, sounding like a Greek chorus confirming Jackson’s digs. The album version carries on until the six-minute mark, with Carly Simon waxing poetic about clouds in her coffee and apricot scarves in an extended outro. The video version wisely excises this in favor of guest verses from Missy Elliott, whose reliably grinning performance shoves the knife in deeper. In both versions, however, Janet’s menace is preserved. Forming a trinity with All For You’s preceding two singles, “Son of a Gun” showed just how versatile Jackson is, and how adept she is at encapsulating the messy, complex emotions of an ended relationship.

Will Adams on “All Nite (Don’t Stop)” [6.17]

I had been looking away from the television when it happened. By the time I’d heard the gasps from my parents and I glanced up at the screen, the cameras had cut to an aerial shot of the Reliant Stadium in Houston, where the 2004 Super Bowl was taking place. My 11 year old brain couldn’t process exactly what happened from my parents’ concerned murmurs, and having completely missed the incident (there was no YouTube back then, see), it would take years for me to understand the impact that the “wardrobe malfunction” had on culture and Jackson’s career. The greater impact was to be expected — the six-figure FCC fine on CBS (later dismissed by the Supreme Court) and conservative handwringing about the moral decline of the country — but Jackson in particular suffered unduly. There was the blacklist, ordered by Les Moonves, which kept her off CBS, MTV and Infinity Broadcasting. Jackson’s appearance at that year’s Grammy Awards was canceled. Late-night talk show hosts turned it into monologue fodder, usually grossly and usually at her expense. The controversy hampered her album cycles well into the Discipline era. Meanwhile, Justin Timberlake remained entirely unaffected. His career would skyrocket two years later with the release of FutureSex/LoveSounds; he became a Saturday Night Live darling; he performed solo at the Super Bowl’s halftime show in 2018. This alone puts Damita Jo and “All Nite (Don’t Stop)” in a more sympathetic light, but even then, pop radio missed out on a truly brilliant song here. Janet acts as the Dance Commander, taking the opening guitar lick from Herbie Hancock’s “Hang Up Your Hang Ups” and turning it into a lasso with which she throws you onto the dancefloor. The percussion percolates, each sound placed perfectly to create an undeniable groove. Because of the blacklist, it didn’t even break the Hot 100, and the video was also subject to its own asinine controversy — the few video channels that managed to avoid the blacklist edited out the sexual content, including a scene were two female dancers kiss. Even fifteen years later, it feels like we’re still reckoning with how Jackson was treated in the aftermath. But there’s an inspiring resilience in “All Nite (Don’t Stop)” reflected in the smile she bears on the Damita Jo cover; its unabashed sexuality in the face of all the backlash makes it an even better listen today.

Kat Stevens on “Strawberry Bounce” [7.17]

I like Janet best when she takes risks, whether that be controversial subject matter, a new image or a change of musical direction. Old faithfuls Jam & Lewis are still a solid presence on Damita Jo, but on “Strawberry Bounce” we see Janet plumping for a left field choice in the then-unknown Kanye West. The result is an intriguing Ryvita, all brittle handclaps and feathery faux-ingenue whispering, on the verge of crumbling into nothing. It’s so light that there’s no bassline, just a queasy glockenspiel tinkle and Janet’s butter-wouldn’t-melt sing-song. I keep wondering to myself: why have Janet and Kanye chosen to present a song about working a shift at a strip club in the style of an Aptimil Follow-On Milk advert? Is it a subtle reminder that sexy times may eventually lead to night feeds and dirty nappies? It doesn’t help that instead of a proper beat, we have Jay-Z muttering ‘BOUNCE!’ as if he’s grumpily shooing a dog off his lawn. It’s confusing and uncomfortable, yet compelling and convincing, and I’m still listening. The risk has paid off.

Will Adams on “Rock With U” [5.83]

“Just Dance” is often thought of as ground zero for the rise of dancepop and eventually EDM in the US, but it had been brewing for over a year before the Lady Gaga song topped the Hot 100 in early 2009. From 2007 onward, the increased interest in incorporating elements of disco via four-on-the-floor beats and faster tempos created some indelible hybrids, particularly in the R&B world: “Don’t Stop the Music”; “Forever”; “Closer”; “Spotlight”; and “Rock With U.” While most of those songs stuck to traditional verse-chorus pop structure, “Rock With U” proves that sometimes simplicity is best: A house arrangement of arpeggios and basic rhythms. A single verse, repeated three times and interspersed with wordless vocalizing with nearly no variation, save for Janet’s whispers. All this, combined with the glorious one-shot video, creates a hypnotic effect, like the song will go on forever. On a recent Song Exploder episode about “Honey,” Robyn said of dance music: “It’s about putting you in a place where you’re in your body dancing without thinking about when it’s gonna end. It’s more about the moment and how it makes you feel.” This is the heart of “Rock With U”: an invitation to get lost in the music, forget about the outside world, and just rock.

Maxwell Cavaseno on “So Much Betta” [5.67]

The beginning of the 2010s was way too challenging in retrospect and I regret every minute of it. “So Much Betta” was a song I first heard in a mix by Robin Carolan, now best known for founding and guiding Tri-Angle Records, but for a brief period operated a side-blog called “SO BONES” where he’d pontificate about random gems of pop, R&B and rap but in a way that made records feel gross and sinister. Suddenly Cassie’s “My House” was a ghost story, Vanessa Hudgens’s “Don’t Talk” would be compared to Takashi Miike’s Audition, and so on. In retrospect I think of the Capital P Pop songs of the decade that I’ve responded to enthusiastically like “TT,” “Cheyenne,” “Strangers,” “Somebody Else,” “Backseat,” “Lac Troi” or the dozens of others there is at least usually a despair or gloom I can at minimum project onto the record even where it might not be obvious. And that comes from hearing Janet Jackson whisper over a record that sounded like some toxic goo from out of the dregs of the Rinse.FM swamps I’d often thought to be “the coolest” sounds, before cutting through over glistening synths that felt like a phantom of not Janet per se but her brother’s past. It was a song that felt v. strange in 2010 well after MJ had died with the listless echo of the Pop Monarch feeling less like a dream-like invocation and more like a degraded copy of a copy in its grotesquery. Enough can be said about how cool and timeless and bright and powerful Janet at her best can feel. But it deserves an acknowledgement that she could also make a song that was so evocative in all the most unpleasant of ways.

William John on “Unbreakable” [6.67]

“Unbreakable” as an adjective is applicable to those rare, unending, strong relationships between people, whether they be romantic, platonic, familial, or, as has been intimated in relation to her song of the same name, between performer and audience. But it’s also a word that can be used to describe oneself, and one’s ability to traverse adversity with stoicism. The first song on Jackson’s most recent album doesn’t sound defiant – more “stroll to the supermarket on a warm summer’s evening” than an escapade to Rhythm Nation. But courage manifests in different ways. Jackson’s breezy delivery, which takes on an ecstatic form in the song’s chorus, is indicative of her self-assurance at her status; she’s embracing the languor allowed to her as a legend. She may have been removed of her clothes in front of the whole world a decade prior; she may have spent her whole life in the shadow of her infamous relative – but she hasn’t faltered. She’s still here. As she greets her listeners in her inviting whisper at the song’s conclusion, she notes that it’s “been a while” since her last missive, and that there is “lots to talk about”. But her listeners aren’t impatient; there’s always time for Janet. Her story has always been one of control, of poise, of excellence. Long may it continue.

Pedro Joao Santos on “Dream Maker/Euphoria” [5.17]

When I get to delve deep into a legend, as with Janet, I tend to hit the ground running and have them release a new, great album a few months later. Not having heard 20 Y.O. and Discipline, I was shielded from the Janet-isms from the ’00s and viewed Unbreakable as a proper continuation to her legacy, instead of the grand comeback it actually was — hackneyed artwork, halted tour and all. Janet got the upper hand, finding her reunited with Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, in a steadfast gaze in a steadfast gaze over airtight, pensive and giddy R&B. An exemplary return to form, incidentally devoid of all the raunch, bathroom breaks and Kioko.

One older Janet-ism survived in a marginal capacity: the penchant for interludes, continued here in only two moments (aside from endearing sneezes and spoken-word outros): one was the bizarre preview for a Target-exclusive full track; the other was “Dream Maker/Euphoria”. A precise inflection point scribed upon the passage from “side 1” to “2” — even if things threaten to get a bit pedestrian and humdrum in the last half. The track itself is a dual mood, yet a continual trek through the glow of a renaissance. A seemingly old groove recalling the Jackson 5 gets dusted from the vaults for the first part. That’s ear candy for ages in itself, a web of vox so intensely feverish and melodically preternatural. It gets looped tantalisingly, then it transcends onto the next level. Full-on rapid eye movement: keyboards and ambience make up the sound of eyelids opening to meet a purple, unreal sky — suspended between worlds, a dream dimension of utopia and the reality where those ideas must coalesce. “I guess the dreamer must be awake,” Janet concludes after envisioning a “perfect place” exempt from “jealousy, abuse or hate,” “war, hunger or hate.”

Janet’s four peak-era albums alone prove she’s been excelling at world-building where and when the world was far from ready. In “Dream Maker/Euphoria,” it isn’t so much the stark condemnations of Rhythm Nation 1814, but its more hopeful fantasies, articulated through the confident tone of Control, set to the type of innovative musical reverie The Velvet Rope predated, softened through janet.’s sensuous filter. But more than the touchpoints of yesteryear, the essence of “Dream Maker/Euphoria” lives in its manifestation of the future: how tangible and expansive it might just become, if given a chance.

#Janet Jackson #writing #music

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