#can’t believe every year I’m surprised that this playlist only has my favourite music in it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cacoetheswriting · 4 years ago

Text

for you and i

Pairings: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: honestly just pure fluff, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, implied smut (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.2k Summary: A small collection of moments throughout reader’s and Spencer’s evolving relationship that features their song. A/N: this symbol ~~ signifies a time jump.

A/N: i finished my rewatch of bones last night (im hella emotional), and one of my favourite “running gags” from the show is hot blooded being booths and brennans song, and how the writers reminded us of that from season to season. it definitely definitely inspired me to write this. also i did this instead of working on my assignment as a birthday gift from me to me lmao ENJOY

The plane trip back home was completely silent.

Morgan and JJ were catching up on much needed sleep. Emily, lost in thought, observed the night sky through the small window. Rossi was reading, as Hotch worked his way through some case files.

Spencer sat next to you at the far end of the jet. You were listening to music while his nose was buried in a book. Although you could tell he couldn't really concentrate on the words as the page remained unturned for the last fifteen minutes.

“Why don’t you let your eyes rest for a minute?” You suggested, carefully taking out one earphone. “A short nap could be good for you. It doesn’t look like you’re retaining any information anyway.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with you. He shut the novel in his lap and tilted his head to look at you, his lips pursed into a thin shy smile. “You should get some sleep too Y/N.”

“I’m okay.” You replied. “Plus someone has to keep watch in case the jet gets abducted by aliens or something.” A sly grin appeared on your face as Spencer chuckled softly. He rested his head against the chair and gradually closed his eyes.

You watched him for a moment. Examining his perfect features. Your innocent crush growing by the second - something you would never admit out loud in fear it would ruin your friendship.

When you were about to place the earpiece back in your ear, his eyes shot back open. He sighed heavily.

"I actually don’t think I can.” Spencer said quietly and once again turned his attention to you. His gaze briefly landed on the phone in your hands before travelling up to your face. “Did you know that in addition to aiding relaxation and helping with falling asleep quicker as well as improving sleep quality, playing music before bed can improve sleep efficiency? Which means more time you are in bed is actually spent sleeping.” You raised a curious brow waiting for him to continue, but he just asked: “Can I ask what you are listening to?”.

Instead of answering his question, you wiped the dangling earphone against your blouse and handed it to him. He took it, a little hesitantly, and placed it in his ear - the two of you unconsciously shifting closer to one another.

You could tell by the expression on his face that he didn't know the song currently playing, nor did he particularly like it, but he didn't protest or ask you to skip it. In his eyes, you were kind enough to share your source of entertainment therefore he would never push to change what you were clearly enjoying.

The song ended, another began, and another, and another. Eventually Spencer closed his eyes again. The two of you continued to silently listen to the various songs on your playlist - a wild mix of different artists and genres, definitely showcasing your weird music taste.

Touch Me by The Doors began to play.

“I like this one.” Spencer muttered, eyes still closed. “I didn't peg you to be a rock fan.” You stated curiously. Spencer chuckled softly. “I wouldn't call myself a fan per se, this is just a very good song.” “This is actually my favourite song of theirs.” You proclaimed.

Sinking deeper in your seat, you quietly sang along. “What was that promise that you made?” To your pleasant surprise, the young doctor joined in. “Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?”

Lost in the pure bliss of the moment, you gently rested your head against Spencer’s shoulder. His eyes fluttered open. He glanced down at you and smiled to himself. Yes. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

“Watch it!!!” You shouted and rudely gestured after the vehicle that overtook you out of nowhere, almost sliding right into your car. Frustrated, you ran your hands through your hair before placing them on the wheel again. A deep sigh escaping your lips in the process.

Spencer chuckled next to you. “Maybe next time I’ll drive.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, tone of your voice changing completely for a moment. “People are just so fucking stupid.” The groan was full of annoyance, and it only made the young doctor snicker louder.

“How about we turn on the radio?” Spencer suggested. “Cool you down a little since we have another hour drive ahead of us, and I would preferably like to get there in one piece.” He teased. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but didn’t protest.

Taking your silence as a yes, Spencer fumbled with the car radio.

‘Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe’

Voice of Jim Morrison blared through the speakers. Instantly, your whole body loosened up. No longer feeling annoyed or angry. Driver’s rage dissipated. The frown circling your features was replaced by a happy smile.

‘Can't you see that I am not afraid?’

Stopping at a red light, you looked at Spencer who was lightly bopping his head to the beat of the music. His gentle curls bouncing with his every move.

“You know, the universe is telling us that this is our song now.” You noted. The young doctor met your gaze, and the grin present on his face made your heart skip a beat. A faint hit of nerves cascaded through your body as you anxiously waited for his response.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders slightly. “It’s a good song. The universe could have wished us a lot worse.”

As the light ahead turned green, and you were driving once again, the two of you burst into the chorus as loud as you possibly could: “Now, I'm going to love you! Till the heavens stop the rain!”.

The bar was filled to the brim with people wanting to unwind after a long week of work. That included the BAU team.

“One more for the road!” Morgan exclaimed, jumping out of his seat. He motioned to Hotch for assistance and the two of them briskly walked off in the direction of the bar. “While they’re gone, I’m gonna hop to the loo.” Penelope chimed. “I’ll join you.” JJ spoke up and they hurried off.

Spencer sat beside you, shoulder pressed lightly to yours. He was sipping on the remainder of his drink and you were about to open your mouth to say something, engage him in conversation, when you heard it. The song. Your song.

Your head instantly snapped up at him and a mischievous grin spread on your face. By the time Spencer realised what was going on, you were up on your feet grabbing him by the arm, and pulling him onto the self-made dance floor.

You began to sway along to the music. The alcohol currently flowing through your veins definitely made you that much braver. It also gave Spencer the confidence boost he needed to join you with no objections.

Despite the questionable looks you were undoubtedly receiving, the two of you jumped around like kids. Singing the song out loud to one another. It was as if the world around you disappeared. Like you and Spencer were the only people left in the bar.

‘Till the stars fall from the sky’

And when the night concluded, when everyone said their goodbyes, Spencer continued to hum the melody of your song as he waited with you for the taxi. It was then you chose to make the first move - colliding your lips with his in a carefree kiss.

They were softer than you ever imagined.

All at once, the attraction between you two and the tension that built up over the years burst. You grabbed onto his jacket pulling him even closer. Suddenly, the cold night air didn’t feel so cold anymore. It was hot, burning like a flame. Your body was on fire and so was his.

Spencer’s long arms wrapped around you, trapping you in the fire. One of his hands moved lower down your back, while the other tightly gripped your hair. The sensation that he felt was unimaginable. He always imagined what you would taste like, although he never expected anything would happen. He imagined how your body would feel against his. How your lips taste. But this, this exceeded all expectations.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He said in a smoky voice after pulling away, his hands now holding your face. “That’s what I was going to say.” You managed to whisper before his lips landed on yours again. Your heart pounding hard inside your chest, it felt as if it was about to explode.

Spencer huffed as he placed a heavy cardboard box down on the ground. He straightened himself, flattened down his crinkly t-shirt, and turned to you with a smile. “That’s the last of it.” He stated proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

“My hero.” You ambled towards him and pecked his lips. “Thank you.” His arms made their way around your waist, pulling you in close. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead before glancing around the room.

“I can’t believe we’re officially moved in together.”

“It’s been a longtime coming.”

“That it definitely has.” Spencer smiled kissing you. He let his arms fall and shuffled around to start unpacking.

Having planned ahead, you removed a speaker from your handbag. You quickly set it up, connecting it to your phone, and pressed play to ease the process that would carry on into the night.

Starting with the kitchen, and the more fragile items, the two of you made your way through the new apartment.

Hours passed. It was getting quite late as tiny yawns continuously escaped your lips. However, the hard work was paying off because space started to feel more and more like home.

You decided to finish up for the night - tomorrow was another day. Yawning, you leaned into the arms of your boyfriend. Spencer kissed the top of your head and began to sway you slowly from side to side.

Right on queue, the guitar intro you both recognised well began to play through the speakers. You smiled into his chest before breaking free from his embrace.

‘Yeah! Come on, come on, come on, come on Now touch me, babe Can't you see that I am not afraid’

Sharing a knowing look, you both started to dance. Not wanting to disrupt any neighbours you both chose not to sing along like you usually did. Instead, you mouthed the words in sync as if you were competing in a lip-sync battle.

‘What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?’

The two of you circled happily around one another. It wasn't long before the air guitars came into play.

And as the song concluded, Spencer cupped your cheeks. “I love you.” He muttered, gazing deep into your eyes. “I love you too.” You replied smiling.

Without another word, Spencer’s lips crashed against yours. Both your heads tilting hungrily from side to side to vary pressure. Hearts hammering loudly. Your hands made their way up his muscled back as his hands traveled down your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Why don’t we move this party to the bedroom?” He suggested, his face still only inches away from yours. You lifted your hand, and brushed some of his light curls away behind his ear. “I do believe I read somewhere that it is considered bad luck not to christen the bed on the first night of living together.” You stated giggling.

Spencer raised an interested brow. “What else does the article say?”

“How about I just show you.” And like that, your lips were on his once again as he blindly led you to the bed.

“And now ladies and gentlemen we would like to bring out our newlyweds, Dr. & Mrs. Reid, to dance their first dance as husband and wife. Let’s give them a hand.”

Spencer turned to you, that warm kindhearted smile you loved so much circling his lips. He offered you his hand. “Mrs. Reid.” You took it gladly. “Dr. Reid.”

He led you to the middle of the dance floor and swiftly wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you close, while the other hand intertwined itself with yours. Music started to play and the two of you swayed elegantly from side to side.

“I have a surprise for you.” Spencer whispered in your ear before briefly pulling apart and twirling you around.

Suddenly the music stopped. Sounds of disappointment echoed through the watching crowd as you shot your husband a quizzical look.

A melody you knew all too well filled the space.

Your mouth parted slightly in shock as Spencer let his arm fall from your waist. He spun you around once again and began rhythmically banging his head to the beat of the song. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before joining in.

Excited screams echoed through the crowd as they cheered on. Even though you heard them, you knew people were watching and documenting this moment, you felt as if there was no-one else around - déjà vu.

Spencer pressed his forehead lightly to yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. His lips twirled into a smile. A big smile that you reciprocated. Feeling as if you were on cloud nine, you looked deep into each others eyes and whole heartedly sang along with the song. Your song.

‘I'm going to love you Till the heavens stop the rain I'm going to love you Till the stars fall from the sky For you and I’

masterlist

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symphonic-scream · 3 years ago

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Oh hey I've got more

Differences in the Jocks Kwami Swap AU

More from season 2!

Troublemaker

The moment has finally arrived

Really at the start not much is different, Penny is having trouble controlling everything that's happening around her, but I'm thinking I might swap what they have Jagged do-

I don't know for sure yet but I'm considering my options. Either way Penny gets pushed to the limit and gets akumatized

Chartreux and Crimson are fighting her as they normally would, while Kitsune is having a whole ass crisis cause her plans aren't working

She kinda collapses on a roof, watching the other two heroes do their thing all chaotic and remembers her motto, the advice she received and follows religiously;

"Life your life with no regrets"

And she starts to realize that the duo make tons of mistakes and never seem to get down on themselves despite how much they should regret their decisions

Kitsune realizes that she's been thinking about the advice the wrong way. It doesn't mean to do everything without flaw the first time, but to have fun and live in the moment, have fun and enjoying life for what it is

So she goes feral

Jocks style

Joins the fight and just follows the flow and in the end the new Jocks Trio are victorious

However, Fu isn't so pleased. He can't take back the miraculouses, but he has to stop this mess before it gets worse

So he and Wayzz go for a walk, and are saved by a certain classmate, who gets invited back for tea

Gigantitan

Ugh the baby

Episode starts with Max learning about the miraculous and Fu and stuff from Fu, who hands him the turtle and asks him to become the leader the team needs

Max isn't sure about the idea at first, because if he can't even keep Kim and Alix out of danger, how can he protect his fellow heroes?

He gets a pep talk and agrees

Meanwhile the class has gathered to scheme a way to get Adrien out of his schedule to hang out with them. They were all assigned secret roles and invited by a "mysterious mastermind"

It's just Kagami

Newly living her life her way, she comes up with something so ridiculous it might just work

Only it doesn't and the Gorilla is about to be akumatized but instead it's the baby

The trio transform to fight it only to receive messages on their devices from a "Shell Shock", which they promptly ignore

When the Turtle Hero does show up, he saves their asses and pulls them aside to tell them the plan and of course none of them are too pleased

However they go with it and they win. Shell Shock explains that he was chosen to be the team leader and the corespondent between them and the "Guardian" and tells Kitsune that he will message her through the magic system thing for when she's needed. Otherwise she is to stay away from the fight

Yeah she's not happy

Episode ends with Adrien joining the class for some hangout at the park after his next shoot was cancelled due to the akuma attack

Riposte

The day has finally arrived for Kagami to try out for the fencing academy in Paris and a lot is riding on her acceptance. If she fails to get in, her grandfather will have her and Tomoe moved back home again. She'll lose her newfound freedom, her friends, her secret identity

Still upset about essentially being called a sidekick, Kagami isn't ik the right mindset for fencing. She and Trixx have a little chat in the locker room before she puts her necklace and ring in her locker

Marinette, Alix, Kim, and Ivan (the last three having just stayed past their lacrosse practice) are there to cheer Kagami on and show their support

Kagami and Adrien are paired up to fight, but they don't have any mats to practice on because they're being cleaned. While they're fighting, Kagami steps on a wet part of the floor and slips, losing in the process

No one liked that

The instructor says that since she lost she can't join and says his decision is final when people mention how unfair he's being

Kagami just walks out, trying not to show how upset she is when she calls her mother to share the results. When asked to challenge the decision and do a rematch, she states that in her family there is no room for second chances and leaves

Then haha akuma time

Having not gone back to her locker, she doesn't have the fox miraculous so it's a normal akuma

Might change some things about Riposte not sure yet

Shell Shock messages Kitsune that they won't need her at the start of the fight but things get rough for a bit there, and he can't help but think that Mirage would have been useful then

The heroes end up winning, Kagami's mother tells her to "stop being stubborn" and to accept a fair second match, deciding to keep her loss a secret from her grandfather

For the final bit, Kagami gets her proper rematch, and kicks Adrien's ass. And with that, she's in the academy and gets to stay in Paris

She goes and puts on both her ring and the fox miraculous, apologizing to Trixx for what happened while they were apart

Befana

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARINETTE

The class is preparing a surprise party for her, everyone pitching in something to make it extra special

Some of the classmates discuss their gifts to her while preparing, Nino with his playlist for the party, Mylene with a plush from one of those animal charities, Alix with a collection of recipes and some spare fabric she got from her grandma all the way from Egypt

And Juleka with a CD of "background noise" music she and Luka made with Marinette in mind

As that's happening Gina (?) Shows up for her annual Nonna and Mari day, which Tom forgot about because of how excited he was for the surprise party idea

Rather than what happens in canon, Gina and Marinette take turns choosing a small activity to do together, just like every year. After a trip to some candy shop, Gina's about to have her final turn where she planned to give Marinette her gift

That's when Alya calls Marinette and claims that she's got a huge scoop and needs her trusty moderator to help her out

Marinette doesn't want to miss out on the little time she gets with her Nonna but Gina just insists she go cause it sounded important. She leaves after saying she'll see Marinette back home later

The Birthday Girl shows up to the surprise party and she's actually surprised this time cause she was so focused on picking the perfect activities for her and Gina that she didn't see the clues

Befana happens when Tom tells his mom that Marinette is at a birthday party and she gets mad that her own granddaughter felt the need to lie as if she wouldn't let her go to her own party if she asked

There's a bit of a detail about Marinette not even taking any of the candies with her, even though it's both of their favourite

I liked Befana's powers well enough, I thought that it was pretty cool. It's based on La Befana, who I believe is basically Italian Santa?? It's cool

The heroes struggle to sneak away while some of their classmates are turned to stone or into those weird angels, all while trying to keep Marinette safe

Shell Shock and Chartreux are the most successful, since Kagami and Kim are trying to protect the birthday girl

They do get a chance to transform and Shell Shock comes up with a complicated plan to stop the akuma

So obviously it gets screwed up at some point

Once the fight is done, Marinette tries to talk to Gina and explain everything, making it clear that she loves their days together

This is when Gina gives her the gift, er, gifts. First is a bag meant to allow Mari to bring some if her sewing stuff on the go

The second is a jacket just like Gina's, only it has the little blossoms from Marinette's shirt and shit, and announces that she's staying in Paris for a while longer, promising to take Marinette on a proper bike trip

Here's the next four episodes planned! I'm nearly done with season 3 now and I'm gonna wait to do another Differences post while I figure things out with 2 and 3 lmao

I hope y'all like my plans for these episodes, so let me know what you think! Suggestions, complaints, compliments, I'll take em all

#feral jocks au #ml feral jocks au #alix kubdel #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #ml #crimson beetle and chartreux noire #kim le chien #chartreux noire #kitsune #shell shock

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jamaiskookie · 4 years ago

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i would like more soundcloud rapper yoongi x idol y/n please it’s so cute

v-live alert! -myg

pairing: idol! y/n x soundcloud rapper! yoongi

wc; 2.9k

a/n: lots of you asked, and so you shall receive. ps, i wrote this really rushed but i kinda love it. lmk what you think, love you guys <3

[V LIVE] Surprise LIVE!

the v-live notification. or, more accurately, the sound of war. alternatively, you dance around your studio on a livestream and yoongi has a mental breakdown.

masterlist PREV

“i miss you too!“ you say, replying to one of the first comments that pop up on the live.

you probably should’ve showered before going live... and you probably should’ve changed out of sweats.

whatever.

it’s not like your fans haven’t seen this before.

half of your pre-debut pictures are just downright disgusting.

the number of viewers on the top of your phone begins to climb up to the thousands, increasing every half a second.

it always amazes you how many people show up to your lives. sometimes you wonder if your fans genuinely have nothing better to do. how do they always show up so fast?

the comments begin to flood with greetings and exclamations of ‘oh my god i’m so early!11!1’ and the multicoloured heart pop up on your screen, building up an impressive stream of likes.

“where am i?“ you read through the comments and look around, as if you forgot where you were. “in the studio.“ you grin when the comments flood with questions asking if dreamcloud is getting new music.

you can’t answer, of course, but it’s fun to see. you squint at your phone, which is propped on an elaborate setup that you spent the past twenty minutes preparing.

(three books on one eyeshadow palette and a selfie stick gingerly placed on a small stool)

((you pray to every deity out there that it won’t fall))

“i was just bored,“ you shrug, speaking to the screen. “so i decided to come on here and talk to you guys. how have you been?“ you ask.

hundreds of comments answer.

“i’m alright“

“i’m good!“

most of them contain some form of sappy declaration like ‘my day is much better now that you’re here!’ it makes you smile. how cute.

the v-live notification.

or, more accurately, the sound of war.

that cursed, terrible ding! haunts yoongi’s darkest and most terrifying nightmares. the sheer amount of panic that rushes through his veins when he hears that godforsaken noise, god.

the number of lives he’s missed- yoongi can’t even bear to think about it.

so maybe it was a blessing in disguise that yoongi put his phone on do not disturb so he didn’t have to hear that disgusting sound. instead, he found out the news via a gorilla’s screech.

“Y/N’S LIVE RIGHT NOW STARTED FOURTY SECONDS AGO HURRY UP YOONGI GET YOUR ASS UP AND STOP STUDYI-“ jimin yells from his room down the hall.

yoongi almost falls out of his chair scrambling to get to his phone. it’s not like he was really studying anyways- more like using his pencils to tap out a cool-sounding beat on his desk out of boredom.

watching your live > passing his music theory class.

priorities.

with shaky hands, he grabs at his phone, slumping onto the floor and he sees the familiar blue icon with the notification popped up on the screen.

[V LIVE] Surprise LIVE! Y/N: let’s chat <3

an unnatural squeak that slightly resembles the sound a mouse slips out of yoongi’s mouth.

even when he was a baby starrie and was glued to his phone at all times, he’s never been this early to a live. he unlocks his phone, cursing his momentary clumsiness. he clicks into the live, smiling when your beaming face blasts up on his screen.

you haven’t gone live in so long- it’s nice to see your face again.

“- how have you been?“

“good.“ yoongi types out in the comment box, mumbling the words as he’s typing. “way better now that you’re live.“ sometimes yoongi cringes at himself when he types these things. i mean, who could possibly guess that min yoongi, resident scary-emo-couldslapyouintheface bad boy socially un-responsible simped over a k-pop idol?

he can already see his reputation go down the drain.

he also wonders what it says about himself that he’s a 20-something college student who’s life practically revolves around you, an idol who’s just about a year younger than him.

but dreamcloud is a part of his identity now. he identifies as a starrie no matter what. you know how the old saying goes-

once you stan, you can’t unstan. or something like that, he’s honestly not sure.

you tuck your head onto your hand, diligently trying to keep up with all the comment. with a gasp, you nod at something. “oh, you’re right, user yoonalova98!” - that’s another thing special about you. whenever you read out comments, you also read out the username of whoever wrote it.

you explained in one interview- that it’s cooler to give credit and talk to your fans as if you’re just chatting as friend. saying the username feels like you’re saying their names.

what kind of lucky fan would get their comment read aloud by Y/N?

ugh.

yoongi blinks when he remembers that technically, he’s sort of part of this group of elite, recognised fans.

his twitter stan account got almost five thousand more followers after Y/N replied to his selca. the post itself has tons and tons of likes and retweets.

insane, that Y/N- Y/N herself- knows of his existence. Y/N- the love of his life, has seen his FACE. she commented three HEART emojis below a selfie that he took.

if he thinks about it too much, he’ll start feeling faint again.

“our anniversary is coming up soon! i can’t believe it’s been three years already. time does pass by when you’re having fun.“ you say. yoongi thinks that it’s rather ironic that you would forget your anniversary, when yoongi’s had a calendar countdown to January 14th since the beginning of september.

“ahh,“ you say, leaning in closer to the screen. “from user lialiarach, ‘did you watch jisoo unnie’s acting debut’ - i did! we all watched it and cheered her on during the premiere!“

jisoo’s new drama is good. it’s a fantasy-horror blend, and he, jimin, namjoon and jin finished all 16 episodes in two days when streaming hit Netflix.

your head tilts and you smile. “song recommendations?” you wonder aloud, and yoongi scrambles to get a pen and notepad out. you don’t do ‘y/n’s listening parties’ as much anymore, but your taste in music is impeccable and he collects all the songs in a playlist.

it’s called ‘wedding tunes’ (jimin named it, not him, yoongi swears)

everytime he tries to change it back, it somehow switches back to wedding tunes the next day.

it’s disturbing how good jimin is at this kind of stuff. hopefully yoongi won’t have to bail him out of jail one day.

“okay!“ you say, pulling your laptop open. you hum as you scroll through some page that yoongi can’t see- and he anxiously waits for the first song to be played with twitchy hands and a strong grip on his pen.

the first bar plays out and yoongi’s already in love.

“this is,“ you say over the music, double checking just to make sure. “don’t need your love by NCT...“ you squint. god knows there are too many NCT members. “dream! NCT dream featuring HRVY.“

“NCT dream...“ yoongi mumbles to himself, writing the song down on the notepad.

“you know,“ you say over the music, spinning in your chair and nodding to the beat. “i’ve only met the NCT guys a couple times at music shows and such but they’re all so nice. i can’t remember all their names, but i’m decently familiar with their faces. how do they even have 23 members? how does it all work??“

you dance around the studio, singing along nonsensical lyrics that don’t make sense but sort of fit the rhythm of the song (??)

“don’t need your loo-ooove-!!! dum dum duhhhh duhros noya!!!” yoongi stifles a laugh. there’s a reason why you constantly forget lyrics on stage.

which is quite ironic, actually, because half the time you’re forgetting the lyrics to a song you wrote yourself.

afterwards, you play all the hidden gems- and yoongi’s proud to say he’s familiar with quite a few of them.

airplane by j-hope (a youtube star turned successful rapper-vocalist-dancer)

sweet night by v (the internet’s resident eye-candy)

and then you continue to scroll through your laptop, biting your lip and murmuring quietly to yourself. you glance once back at your phone screen.

okay, listen.

yoongi knows that he’s delusional, okay?

but everytime you look straight in the screen it’s almost like you’re looking directly at the camera it’s almost like you’re staring into his soul. which makes zero sense, but it still makes his heart skip a beat.

let him dream, please

“what am i scrolling through?“ you say, reciting a question from the chat. “soundcloud, user chachachae.“

soundcloud?

oh.

that’s pretty cool.

he didn’t know you had a soundcloud account!

you usually post all your covers and random shorts to instagram or another one of your personal blogs.

for a moment, yoongi indulges himself by wondering if you’d ever listened to his music. his soundcloud account is linked in his twitter bio, after all...

but he shakes those thoughts away as fast as they came. he doesn’t need to entertain himself with such silly thoughts.

“ooh, this one’s good!“ you say, clicking onto something.

still with you by JAYKAY (pffftt haihdkahjd) starts playing and you lean back, humming along. yoongi knows this one too!! now he’s 3 for 3!! he and you do share a similar taste in music, so maybe it does make sense.

even though you’re actually main vocalist and lead dancer, you do listen to a lot of rap music. but the music you make is nothing like the old school hip hop tracks that yoongi is partial to.

the music you make- how can he explain it?

sweet like honey with a little bit of tang.

like barbecue honey!!!!

ok that was a bad analogy.

all of his favourite dreamcloud tracks are written by you- cloud nine, up in the sky, are u still here, quicksand- the list goes on and on and on.

it’s like listening to your voice solves anything he goes against. bad day? dreamcloud. something to celebrate? blast your debut song. in need of a party song? easy fix. he gets aux cord rights? (granted, this doesn’t happen very often, since seokjin insists that his music taste is superior to his friends.) but anyways, y/n can fix it.

listening to your voice feels comforting. it invokes something in him that he honestly cannot explain with words. you’re his inspiration. not just in music- but in life. he admires how you’re able to smile through anything, how you take responsibility for your own actions.

he admires your kind heart, which offers generosity and forgiveness to even the most underserving people.

he admires your passion, for music, for your members, for the smallest things. he admires how you’ll love everyone and anyone.

even though he’s never really met you, he feels like he knows you. he wishes he could, anyways. he wants to thank the person who’s gotten him through such bad days.

yoongi curses himself again for being so delusional.

he keeps telling himself that he can’t get so attached. then he’ll end up like one of those creepy fans who are convinced their idols actually like them.

blech.

“okay, next song!“ you exclaim cheerfully. “i really like this one, guys. he’s this soundcloud star. he makes really cool music.“ yoongi readies his pen. if this person really is a soundcloud star, then there’s a high chance yoongi knows of him. a smaller chance that he actually knows the guy personally; either online or from real life.

you press the space bar almost obnoxiously, like you’re about to reveal something grand. you look into the camera, and you lock eyes with yoongi- through that cursed, horrible screen.

the first note plays and yoongi thinks that it sounds... oddly familiar, actually. for a moment, he sighs in disappointment. this one doesn’t sound as great as the previous few songs. almost like it’s incomplete, imperfect. something about it bugs him at the very bottom of his gut.

jimin figures it out before he does.

“AHHHHHHHHH YOONGI!!! OH MY GOD-!!!! YOONGI ARE YOU SEEING THIS? YOONGI!! HYUNG!“ yoongi grumbles, wondering what the hell jimin is screeching about now.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,“ he mumbles. the difference between him and jimin is the way they express their emotions. while yoongi bottles it all up, choosing to deal with things alone and slump around, jimin has no other choice but to scream things out. it’s a wonder they’re such good friends, really. “what is it now?“ yoongi mutters to himself.

“yeah yeah, a gentle breeze- “ and then it hits him. all at once.

“holy fucking shit.“ he whispers to himself, slumping down on the floor. he can barely hear what you say next.

“this song is called people by agust d. he goes by the name suga on social media-!“ yoongi falls down, gasping for air. “i’m a fan,“ you remark casually. “mr. suga producer-nim!! i’m your fan! please continue to make good music!“ you chuckle. “what am i doing right now? he probably isn’t even watching.“ you stare innocently at the phone camera, as if you don’t even know that you’re changing someone’s life right now.

out of his peripheral vision, he can see jimin rushing into the room, crouching next to him and placing a hand on his back, murmuring something yoongi can’t hear through the sound of his sobs.

huh. when did he even start crying?

“he makes rap and really cool hip hop music. you guys should give him a listen. his lyrics are really meaningful, too.“ you nod along, reciting the lyrics word for word- even though you really can’t rap.

“what kind of person am I? am I a good person? or a bad person? many of ways to judge just a person. everyone will live on, everyone will love, everyone will fade away“ you headbang along to the beat.

yoongi slides down the wall inch by inch. he wonders if he’ll faint or vomit first.

other people seem to make fun of people like him- people who find solace in idols, in music. that’s partially why he doesn’t like disclosing the fact that he’s a diehard fan of an idol girl group.

but in hindsight, that’s so stupid. who gives two fucks about his interests? hell, yoongi’s been depressed half his life. and if a group of girls who sing songs and perform make him feel better, what’s so wrong with that?

jimin’s voice is a little clearer now, and so is yours. you’re singing along to the lyrics- the lyrics that he wrote. the lyrics that he spent hours agonising over, wondering whether his shortcomings and anxiety in his life were worth posting on the internet for his measly following to see.

wondering if the music he made had any impact at all, if one day he might see his dream come true, to see his music being played in public. wondering if anyone might hear his songs and think that it helped them get over a bad day. just like you have for him.

yoongi’s sobs wrack through his body, tears flowing freely on his face. he’s crying hard. ugly crying, like a baby throwing a temper tantrum. his cries echo through the room. if he could see himself right now...

well, he doesn’t want to think about it. he’s sure it’s not a pretty view.

jimin looks over him, smiling proudly. his eyes are glassy, and he tucks yoongi’s head in his chest, putting his arms around him and embracing him.

yoongi’s shoulders shake. if it was any other day, he would usher jimin out the room. he hates it when people see him being vulnerable. even his own family hasn’t seen him cry that much.

but right now, he can’t bring himself to do anything but cry. other people may ask why this is such a big deal, why someone emotionally constipated like min yoongi would cry like this for such a small matter.

this, he doesn’t know how to explain either.

all he can think about is how much it means to him. that someone he admires so much is now, in turn, saying his music- no, his life- is good. nothing much else. but just knowing that you’ve listened to his work, that you know of his alter ego’s name...

his crying sounds grow larger.

jimin pets at his hair. “shh,” he murmurs. “it’s okay.” jimin’s voice also grows a little shaky. he tears up, but continues to comfort the crying boy in his arms. “you did it, hyung. it’s okay. you made it. you did it. why are you crying? this is good news! this is so great! i’m proud of you, we’re all so proud of you.”

yoongi tries to speak; it doesn’t go very well. but when he tries again, he manages to choke something out.

“i did it.“ he says, before burying his face back into jimin’s hug. the two boys sit on the ground, crying together. an hour passes, then two.

slowly, yoongi drifts off to bed on the ground, the melody of his own song blended with sound of your voice echoing in his head.

my ordinary became your special, my special became your ordinary. so what? what if you just brush by? what if you get hurt? sometimes you might get hurt again, sometimes you might shed tears. so what? so what if you live like that?

~ people by agust d

tags; @jksbbyfacebunny @extremeobsessions101 @dwcljh @stonyiscanon @bishuthot @s0seo @cecedrake2217

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amoveablejake · 3 years ago

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My Five Key Songs of September 2021

The first round of songs for the autumn.

I would say that we are already a month into autumn however, quite honestly it doesn’t feel that way. This September has remained rather warm and well, unless I can dress like a Yale student in the 50s which is to say bathed in Shetland jumpers, well, then it isn’t quite autumn is it. Nevertheless, the past month has thrown forward the first batch of songs for the autumn and without further ado here they are.

First up to bat, ‘O Tannenbaum’ by Vince Guaraldi.

Look, we know that it wouldn’t be a tracks of the month feature without Vince Guaraldi being featured somewhere. As far as I’m concerned the playlist of the year with a song from each month could be all Guaraldi but it won’t be. Not because he doesn’t deserve it, undoubtedly he does, but because its good to show variety. Speaking of this, that is why this month’s Guaraldi pick is the opening track of the ‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ album. It is a warm and inviting song that draws you into what is a truly magical album. Guaraldi’s work here is phenomenal and the Christmas album is pure escapism and this past month I have come back to it time and time again with ‘O Tannenbaum’ always leading the way.

Rounding second base, ‘Hymn to Freedom’ by Oscar Peterson.

Oscar Peterson’s truly beautiful ‘Hymn to Freedom’ was almost the track of the month for September following me listening to it practically on a loop for a few days. The record it is taken from, ‘Night Train’, is a wonderful record however, it is launched into the stratosphere by ‘Hymn to Freedom’ that is a rich tapestry of emotions. It is beautiful, it is warm, it is comforting but it is also heartbreaking. Ultimately though, I find it to be inspiring and to help remind the listener that tomorrow is another day. A brand new day and one that will be all the better for having the music of Oscar Peterson in it.

The third track of the month for September, ‘Tangerine’ by Ben Webster.

This past month I have really be on a Ben Webster deep dive and am all the richer for it. As I wrote a few weeks ago, Ben Webster is an artist that is not always at the forefront of my mind however, when he is he seems to consume all. I’m not sure why I forget how mesmerising Webster’s work can be and ‘Tangerine’ is a perfect example of why I shouldn’t be forgetting. This is the kind of song that I listen to start off the day and to end it. At the same time it eases you into what the day has in store and also helps you to unwind from it and to drift away. Its gentle and in my vision of New York you would hear ‘Tangerine’ wafting out of apartment windows alongside ‘Rhapsody in Blue’.

Our fourth entry, ‘Coming Down Again’ by The Rolling Stones.

Following last week’s album of the week piece this perhaps won’t come as a surprise to see ‘Coming Down Again’ here. Its hard to believe that this time last week I wasn’t aware of the song at all and now its one of my favourite Rolling Stones tracks. The Rolling Stones for me are always at their absolute best when they slow down, and ‘Coming Down Again’ really is that mindset to perfection. Listening to this song, it fills the room around you and turns it almost into a zero gravity chamber as you float away listening to this particular hit from ‘Goats Head Soup’. ‘Coming Down Again’ really did sucker punch me when I heard it for the first time and actually it has continued to do that each time I have listened to it since particularly in a couple of moments during the song where I find it to particularly captivating. I guess, I haven’t come down from the high of listening to it yet. Look, I haven’t done one of those in a while so lets be thankful for the hiatus.

And for the key song of the month for September, ‘When I Fall in Love’ by Ben Webster.

In what has definitely been a Ben Webster month ofcourse he had to have the track of the month position and ‘When I Fall in Love completely deserves it. When I first stumbled across ‘When I Fall in Love’ when I was packing up one evening and getting ready to go to bed it made me stop in my tracks. This, I hope you could hear me sigh then, is such a, I don’t know, beautiful and mesmerising don’t seem to do it justice. How about this, this is a track that will remind you of how you fell in love because as you listen to it you can’t help but adore this song more and more. We’re still not quite there but we are closer to it. I think the reason I’m struggling to pin down a phrase of a few lines for this track is because like love it is hard to describe exactly what it is, it can be a specific thing but more often than not it is a thousand little things all coming together. ‘When I Fall in Love’ seems to gather all of those small moments and weave them into a warm blanket that is going to be draped over you. It is in my eyes one of, if not the finest Ben Webster track and coming from the album ‘The Soul of Ben Webster’ couldn’t be more fitting. If you haven’t already, listen to this now, preferably as you’re walking through Paris but we can’t have everything.

So there we have it, have I signed off every monthly feature with this, my five key songs for September. They all seem to be tender tracks really and centred around creating and sharing in warmth. Really, I can only see this trend growing as we move through the autumn months and when I can maybe, just maybe, listen to the above tracks whilst I break out my woolen jumper collection.

Come on, give the people or at least this boy down by the water, what he is after.

-Jake, a man ready for either true elation or pain with the Packers this eve, 26/09/2021

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sendrickbecs · 4 years ago

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Unspoken Feelings (3/8)

The heavy throbbing of her head makes the bedroom whirl around her. Is the world spinning? Beca sits up, quickly bringing her left hand to her forehead, pressing down on it as if it will release the tension. The intense dizziness is causing her stomach to churn which increases her urge to vomit.

Her eyes snap shut instantly, in attempt to decrease her hangover symptoms.

Beca inhales quickly, holding the breath, then exhaling. She repeats the breathing strategies a few more times until she no longer thinks she's going to vomit all over the floor. She doesn't want to recreate Aubrey's puking mess.

When her eyes flutter open again, it takes a minute for her to realise that she isn't in her own room, she's so naturally comfortable in the warm bed that she isn't even alarmed. The surroundings aren't unfamiliar, so she doesn't feel the need to get up and run away shamefully.

But then she looks to her right as she suddenly realises, she isn't alone in the bed.

The sight of her best friend lying next to her, with her left hand underneath her cheek and her gorgeous red hair sprawled out over her pillow, is absolutely breath-taking.

Her other hand is connected to the wrist that is resting on Beca's stomach. Beca didn't realise she was wrapped in Chloe's grip until now, and she has the urge to snuggle closer, loving the feeling of being so close to her best friend. But that isn't a thought someone should have about their best friend, so she hesitantly nudges Chloe's arm away.

After she sits up against the headboard, Beca reaches out to tuck a strand of Chloe's hair behind her ear.

She wants to appreciate the sight, because Chloe Beale really is her favourite thing to look at – to admire. Beca can deny it time and time again but she'll always come back to the same conclusion.

Chloe is her weakness.

Beca has never allowed herself to be vulnerable around others but the realisation that Chloe could literally break down every single one of her walls scares the absolute shit out of her.

She allows her gaze to drift around the room. Even though she shares the attic room with Amy, their room isn't much different to the other girls' bedrooms. She's spent a fair amount of time in Chloe's bedroom anyway, which is why she's almost surprised it took her so long to acknowledge that she woke up in her room.

In this moment it suddenly strikes her – why is she in Chloe's room?

What the fuck happened last night?

She tugs her hair down from the messy bun – she doesn't remember putting her hair up last night so Chloe must have done it for her, which is another example of why Chloe is literally the best person in the entire universe. Beca rakes her hand through her hair and takes note of the faint scent of alcohol. She's also pretty sure that she has sick in the front few strands, but she doesn't want to get into that right now.

Guilt runs through her accompanied by shame as she remembers the way she danced with Jesse last night in attempt to rid her feelings – if they even were feelings at all – for Chloe.

The events from the night before flood back to her and she's overwhelmed with...rage.

Beca isn't angry at Jesse for dancing with her because she was the one that asked, or at Chloe for messing with her head and confusing her, because Chloe isn't to blame.

She's mad at herself. She's so fucking angry at herself that she's allowing herself to feel this way about her best friend – her best friend who is beautiful, sexy, smart as hell and literally the most caring person on the planet.

Chloe Beale is way too good for her, so even if she was into girls there's no way she'll ever love her the way Beca longs for her to. The way Beca has loved Chloe since her freshman year.

She hates herself for the way she treats Chloe – hot one minute, cold the next. She only distances herself and runs from Chloe because it's all she's ever known. Leaving is the only thing she's good at.

There's no need for the walk of shame, but it's not like they had sex anyway. However, that doesn't mean she wants anyone seeing her leave Chloe's room early in the morning. Beca knows what her fellow Bellas are like – they love to make assumptions – especially about 'Bhloe'. It's bad enough that Stacie and Amy occasionally tease them by giving them a ship name and asking things like "When's the wedding?" and "Can I be the god mother of your child?" so there is no way Beca is going to let anyone see her leave Chloe's bedroom, it will only fuel their theories. They'll never let her live that down.

So instead of lying back down and falling to sleep like a part of her wishes she would do, she clambers out of the bed and moves across the room, careful not to knock into any of Chloe's things and cause a ruckus.

When she emerges from the attic stairs, she's met with an empty room, which half surprises her, but Amy not coming home is typical, especially after a treble's party.

Beca is tired, exhausted in fact, but there is no way she's going to be able to get back to sleep so she reaches for her precious laptop and headphones. She sets them on the edge of her bed as she fumbles through her clothes until she pulls out a pair of sweatpants, which she quickly changes into.

Her laptop and headphones are back in her grip as she trudges down the stairs towards the kitchen of the Bellas house. She slips the headphones around her neck and places the laptop on the counter.

As she's making herself some coffee, she acknowledges that it's only five in the morning, which is extremely early for someone who usually rises around midday.

Beca picks up her mug – one Chloe brought her last year – and carries it along with her laptop out the front door and on to the porch. Instead of sitting on the chair swing, Beca sits down on the steps, half leaning against the railing.

She lifts her headphones up and slides them on over her head, connecting the wire to her laptop and pressing play on the queued playlist. The music instantly relaxes her, she won't ever admit it but ever since Chloe requested a Taylor Swift song for the set, Beca has been pretty obsessed with her music.

But not even music can distract her from her thoughts, or more specifically, thoughts about Chloe.

She can't feel that way about her because she's her best friend. She loves her so much, but she can't be in love with her because if it ends badly – which Beca believes all her relationships will – then she'll lose her best friend.

At least with Jesse she's never cared for him the way she cares for Chloe, so if they fight or he gets mad at her, he can't hurt her the way Chloe can.

She doesn't know how much time has gone by since she came out here, but the playlist has ended, and her coffee is now stone cold. Beca has just been staring at a tree whilst she completely zones out.

She hears movement behind her which startles her out of her trance. Her head snaps to the side and she is met with Fat Amy holding a hot mug. She offers it to Beca, and she is quick to accept it considering how the one she made is now undrinkable.

"Are you working on a mix?" Amy asks, as she flops herself down on the porch swing.

"Uh, yeah?" Beca's already finished the mixes and set for the Bellas, and she isn't making anything new for her internship.

Recently her mixes have been kind of shitty, so she hasn't been able to add anything to her collection of mashups that she keeps for potential future use to show someone in the music industry if the opportunity comes up.

Normally Beca uses music as an escape, something to take over her thoughts if it gets too much for her, but right now her mind is elsewhere. Not even music can distract her from her own thoughts.

"Well, no...I'm just trying to figure some shit out." She says, trying not to admit too much about why she is really out here so early in the morning.

"Anything I can help with?" The blonde questions, whilst repositioning her arms behind her head so she's now leaning against them.

"No."

Beca's lack of hesitation sparks a hint of confusion in Amy's thoughts. "You sure? I'm your best friend, you can talk to me about anything." She says, completing it with a grin.

The brunette scoffs lightly, "Well, actually-"

"Mitchell, I know you love ginger more than me, but you don't need to say it out loud and break my heart," Amy jokes.

She almost wants to deny it, because lately the way she feels about Chloe is weird. Beca doesn't understand it, but instead of unpacking it slowly and acknowledging her feelings, she forces her thoughts about Chloe to the back of her mind. But no matter what, Chloe is her best friend, that will always come first.

Beca forces herself to chuckle, "It's just some stuff at the studio."

. . .

When Chloe finally stirs, a few hours after Beca's departure, she reaches her hand out for her best friend, but instead she's met with an empty, cold bed.

She instantly misses Beca's warmth even though she doesn't know how long she's been gone. She can also faintly smell Beca's perfume. Chloe sometimes thinks she's sprayed it around the house just to taunt her. In a way it's like Beca is still always around even when she's being distant or hanging out with Jesse.

Beca is always there and Chloe can't seem to escape her – but she isn't sure that she'd want to even if she could. For Chloe, Beca is her literal will to live. Seeing the smile on her best friend's face is what keeps Chloe going, so without her, life would be pretty damn pointless.

But waking up to an empty bed, knowing that Beca has left her once again, sends a punch to her gut.

Chloe knows she should just take that as a sign, that Beca doesn't want her, not when they're both sober anyway. When the small brunette's feisty attitude is combined with alcohol, she becomes needy – and very touchy. Chloe doesn't mind it, in fact, she kind of really likes it. Beca initiates the hugs and reaches for Chloe's hand to hold. Beca is a lot less clingy when she's sober so Chloe takes advantage of the moments where Beca wants to touch Chloe. She knows she should feel even the slightest pang of guilt for enjoying these moments, but it's not like she's forcing the alcohol down the younger woman's throat.

However, Chloe's thoughts can't help themselves, she assesses the situation once more. Beca had chosen her bed to sleep in last night, to cuddle with her and to wake up next to her. She could have gone to her own bed or any of the other Bellas. But she wanted Chloe. That has to mean something, right?

Chloe is most definitely a morning person, yet this morning she has to fight the overwhelming urge to stay in bed, wrapped up in her blankets all day.

Once she's out of the shower, and dressed in suitable clothing for Bellas rehearsals, she heads downstairs.

When the kitchen comes into view and she hasn't spotted Beca yet, she feels somewhat relieved, she knows Beca will pretend like last night never happened, but Chloe just can't let it go that easily.

She must jinx herself because not even five seconds later, Beca's voice runs through the bottom floor of the house.

"I swear to god, you can't even have anything to yourself in this house."

Chloe acknowledges the anger in Beca's tone and instantly wants to help her or calm her down – something only Chloe can do – so she rushes towards the kitchen. Beca is pacing around the room with her hands flying about frantically.

"What's up, Becs?" Chloe quizzes, attempting to keep her tone calm which is surprisingly hard as she watches Beca get worked up over something. Beca is her friend and she doesn't like seeing her upset.

"Someone ate my fucking ice cream." Beca mumbles, but the look in her eyes tells Chloe that this isn't just about ice cream. There is something much bigger bothering her.

"Um...Bec." Chloe looks at Beca with her most precious puppy dog eyes and a small smile, almost begging Beca to forgive her for something she hasn't even apologised for yet. In her defence, she was mad at Beca for disappearing when she needed her best friend.

Beca can't deny that Chloe's adorable expression got to her – it always does. "Yeah, Chlo?"

"I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Beca quizzes, still not understanding what exactly Chloe was apologising for.

Chloe sighs, and drops her gaze to the floor, ready for whatever Beca was about to throw at her – metaphorically and physically. "It was me. I was the one that ate your ice cream."

"Girl fight!" Cynthia Rose comments as she makes her way into the kitchen towards Fat Amy.

The brunette chuckles softly which causes Chloe to lift her head. "Dude, you should have told me, now I look like an idiot." Beca sits down at the table and lifts her mug to her lips.

"Wait...so you aren't mad?" Chloe asks.

Beca meets Chloe's gaze so both pairs of blue eyes are staring into each other's.

Although the shades of blue are quite different, they fit together so well, just like the ocean and the sky. Beca and Chloe are compatible; the light and dark shades of blues in their eyes harmonise together in the most perfect way.

Beca's expression softens into a smile, just for Chloe. "Course not. It's just ice cream." She shrugs.

"What?" Fat Amy yells, which earns three glares. Her volume is way too loud for this time in the morning, considering how a majority of the Bellas are still asleep. Although Amy's probably woken them all up with her shouting.

Beca tosses her head to the side and gives Amy a pointed glare. "Why are you being weird?"

"You were just about to rip my head off and it wasn't even me, but when Chloe comes forward and says she ate it all you have to say is 'it's just ice cream.' Beca, what-"

"She wasn't feeling well. Ice cream helps with the flu. She's better now so it must have done the trick." Beca smirks but dials it down a notch when she sees Amy raise her eyebrows.

Chloe's heart skips a beat at the thought of Beca taking care of her. Beca has always taken care of her in her own way – she buys Chloe her favourite food when she's on her period, she offered her shoulder to cry on when Chloe had Tom trouble back in Beca's freshman year and Beca makes numerous mixes for Chloe whenever she's feeling down.

There have been so many times where Beca has cared for Chloe, but Chloe wishes that Beca could really take care of her, that they could take care of each other.

She wishes they could cuddle in one of their beds, or on the couch when watching a movie with the other Bellas.

She wishes Beca would trust her enough, so she doesn't have to lie to her anymore.

And finally, she wishes they could care for each other's sexual needs, because the Bellas were probably getting tired of hearing Titanium blast from Chloe's room.

Titanium is kind of their song, Beca might not know this but whenever Chloe listens to it, Beca takes over her mind. It's the thought of Beca that drives her towards her climax.

The brunette twists, focusing her entire attention on Chloe, ignoring the questioning glances between Amy and Cynthia Rose. "You are okay now, right?" She asks the older girl. Her expression softening as she waits for Chloe to confirm that she is okay – that they are okay.

Chloe's face lights up at Beca's obvious concern. Now she knows that Beca was actually worried about her. The past few days she spent in her room she had been assuming that Beca didn't want to be around her because she didn't care that Chloe was supposedly sick. But if Beca knew, then why wasn't she here? Just seeing the younger girl would have made her feel better instantly.

She nods quickly, and watches as Beca's shoulders drop slightly, relaxing them as she lets out a breath. Beca smiles at her and the expression is mirrored by the redhead.

The sudden need to be close to Beca, fuels through the older girl so she takes a couple of steps forwards until she's standing directly in front of her.

"Where'd you go?" Chloe mumbles, "I thought you would still be asleep."

"I was just working on some of my mixes." Beca says after taking a bite of toast, then returning the half-eaten slice to the plate.

Chloe reaches for the plate and lifts the toast up to her mouth, taking a bite then offering it back to Beca. She accepts the toast and takes another bite, smaller this time.

"You know I can make you your own toast if you're hungry?"

"No, I'm good." Chloe replies with a smirk, "I'd rather share yours."

Beca eats one more bite of the toast before holding it out for Chloe. The older girl gives Beca a playful smile then opens her mouth, wanting Beca to feed her instead. The brunette grins and rests the toast against Chloe's bottom lip, looking up at her with a wide smile.

"Get a room, you two." Fat Amy yells, which startles both girls, pulling them from their own little world where only the two of them exists.

Chloe reaches her hand up and takes the toast from Beca. The pink tinge on her cheeks suggest she's just been caught in the middle of a sexual act, not sharing toast with her best friend.

Once she's finished the toast she spins on her heels and reaches into the fridge for a bottled water and instantly unscrews the lid. The cool water is refreshing, and it manages to calm her down, she just hopes that the blush on her cheeks has faded.

"Can I hear them? Your mixes." Chloe asks eagerly once she's turned back to Beca.

The brunette hasn't looked away from Chloe since she entered in the kitchen, but when Chloe meets her gaze, she knows she's been caught staring, so she averts her eyes.

"Later?"

"Okay." Chloe nods, along with a squeal of excitement. Usually when Beca produces a new mix, Chloe is the first person to listen to it, unless it's about her – Beca doesn't show those to anyone, she just transfers them to a USB and adds them to her collections. She has too many mixes dedicated to her co-captain than she'd like to admit. "After rehearsal?"

Beca goes to accept, but then remembers that Chloe hasn't been feeling well recently and she doesn't want her to strain her vocal cords, her nodes damaged them enough. "Are you feeling up to it?"

Once again Chloe's heart swells at Beca's caring tone. "I could ask you the same thing. You drank quite a lot." She giggles at Beca's frown.

"I'm okay if you're okay."

Chloe smiles at Beca's choice of words. Beca is saying she'll only be okay if Chloe's okay, so if Chloe wasn't then would Beca not be either? The brunette's words are not helping, in fact they're just making her feelings towards her more prominent. "I'm okay." Chloe says, and she has the desire to ask, 'Are we okay?' but she pushes it down, too afraid of the answer.

Chloe nears the counter, selecting two mugs from the cabinet and filling up the kettle. She twists to face Beca once more. "Do you want a coffee?"

"Yes please," Beca answers, a smile growing on her face at the offer of coffee. She's already had two cups this morning but definitely won't say no to one more, especially to Chloe.

"Okay, you go shower, I'll bring it up to you." Chloe says, before turning back to work on the drinks.

Beca jumps up from her seat at the table and takes her plate over to the dishwasher. "Alright, thank you. Just don't barge into my shower." She teases, with a growing smirk on her face.

"Beca Mitchell!" Chloe squeaks as she spins around, blushing just like she was a few minutes ago.

"Sorry Beale, I'll try not to sing titanium too loudly." Beca jokes, letting out a laugh at the effect her words had on the older girl. It's as if Beca could hear Chloe's earlier thoughts.

"You better not, we might be late for rehearsals if you do." Chloe fires back, fighting the urge to invite herself into another one of Beca's showers.

Beca smirks at Chloe's response, deep down wishing that she'd take her up on the offer to join her in the shower, but before Beca can dwell on it, she pushes it to the back of her mind and hurries up the stairs.

Chloe can't resist the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips, curling upwards and breaking out on her face.

"Tonerrrrr." Fat Amy sings, with a growing grin.

"Shut up." Chloe says, but doesn't deny it which doesn't go unnoticed by the two other Bellas in the room, "I'll make you do extra cardio."

"No thanks, Boss. I'm good. Sorry Boss."

. . .

Throughout rehearsals, the co-captains were back to being Beca and Chloe.

Beca carried Chloe's bag into the auditorium even though she had her laptop bag and gym bag as well. Chloe encouraged Beca to join in the cardio, which she normally skips with the excuse of needing to set up the speakers.

As Beca leant over her laptop, Chloe found herself staring at her more than once, admiring her in her element. Beca was the same, she'd watch Chloe run through the routines with the other girls, staring at her ass and her biceps every now and then.

The two were synchronised once again.

Everyone seemed so much more relaxed now the tension had drifted.

But then Beca danced with Chloe.

The lingering contact and the passionate dance moves were just too much for her.

It was overwhelming Beca, and she began to panic. The thoughts running through her head weren't right and definitely not PG, she felt hot all over, and her head throbbed. She just needed a second to breathe.

Thank fuck Chloe decided to call the end of rehearsals.

Beca isn't listening to the multiple conversations between the other girls, she's completely zoned out, focusing on not fainting. Her heartbeat has quickened, and her hands are clamming up.

Her breathing still isn't back to its normal rate, but she's not just out of breath from the choreography. Beca's breathing is unsteady and it's starting to panic her. She begins to feel like the walls of the auditorium are closing in on her as she rocks to herself in one of the chairs.

She clenches her eyes shut tight, and grips onto her legs with both hands, squeezing hard so she can focus on the pressure. But it's still not enough because her breathing doesn't differentiate.

The volume of the auditorium does shift, however, and Beca realises that the Bellas must have left, but she doesn't dare open her eyes. The noise must have been a pretty big factor to Beca's panic attack because she's slowly starting to breathe at a steadier pace. Although, she is still far from calm.

The brunette acknowledges Chloe's presence instantly, she can smell her – Beca doesn't have time to analyse how stalkerish that sounds because a sob rakes from her chest, which takes her completely by surprise.

The chair beside her squeaks slightly, and a hand falls onto her knee before it moves up and rests on top of one of her own hands. "Hey Bec," Chloe's soothing voice reaches her ears. After a few seconds she releases the grip on her legs.

"Take my hand." She says, and Beca instantly grips onto the hand offered to her. "You're okay, Becs. I've got you."

Beca finds comfort in the words and she latches on to Chloe's hand for dear life, too afraid of what might come if she lets go.

The two girls sit together in silence as Chloe guides Beca through her panic attack, helping her breathing pattern get back to normal then working on her senses.

It takes Beca ten more minutes to calm down and finally open her eyes. When she does, she's met with the beautiful ocean blue eyes, they are slightly glistening with unshed tears, almost mirroring her own.

Chloe's smile isn't as bright as usual, but it's still enough to reassure Beca that everything will be fine. Beca genuinely believes that everything will be fine as long as Chloe Beale is here.

"Are you okay?" Beca nods and takes the water bottle that Chloe offers her, gulping down at least a third of the water before reapplying the cap.

"Sorry." She whispers, as she stares at the ground.

Chloe's face saddens. Beca did nothing wrong yet she still feels the need to apologise, which makes the older girl acknowledge just how frightened Beca is to let her guard down around people. She is terrified of people judging her for things that are beyond her control.

"Hey, don't be sorry." Chloe says, as she intertwines their fingers, "I'm just glad you're okay. You scared me a little back there."

"Uh, yeah. I get them sometimes." She explains, "Thanks for helping me through it."

"I'll be here whenever you need me, Becs. If you have a panic attack again, please call me and I'll come straight to you."

Beca doesn't like to rely on people, she never really has, because everyone leaves at some point. Even the people you believe will stay in your life forever walk out of it and never return. But there's something about Chloe that makes Beca trust her entirely. Chloe is the first person in Beca's life that she trusts will never leave her, but that scares her more than anything, because if one day she does leave, that will hurt her more than she can imagine, it will leave her broken and shattered to pieces, the pain will be worse than anything she's ever felt before and she never wants to let that happen to her.

So that's why Beca distances herself from Chloe, so she can be the one to leave if times get tough.

Before Beca can process what's happening, Chloe's arms are wrapping around her waist, bringing her close into a hug. Beca scoots closer to Chloe and puts her own hands on Chloe's back.

Chloe is always so caring, and Beca feels like she always throws it all back in her face.

"The girls are back at the house setting up for the movie night." Chloe mentions after they've collectively packed up Beca's equipment. The Bellas left around half an hour ago so they're probably wondering where their captains are. Beca always has something to say about the Bellas movie nights so when she doesn't respond, Chloe knows she still isn't okay. "Are you coming?"

Everyone that knows Beca, knows she doesn't like to be smothered, but it's hard for Chloe not to be overprotective and worry about her when she's just witnessed Beca look so scared.

"No can do, I have a shift at the radio station." Beca mumbles quietly, as she secures the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder.

"I thought you stopped working there when you got your internship?"

"I did," Beca confirms, "but Luke asked me to be in charge for a few days and I kind of owe him a favour."

Chloe knows Beca is lying, but if she calls her out on her bullshit it might cause an argument and she really doesn't want to argue with her best friend. She knows Beca must be feeling emotionally drained after her panic attack and that she needs some time alone to recover from being so vulnerable with another person. Chloe understands, but she wishes that Beca didn't have to feel that way, she just wants Beca to relax in her arms and feel comfortable enough with her to let out her emotions.

But Chloe knows that's just not who Beca is. Not even with her.

. . .

As soon as Beca walks out of the auditorium she knows exactly what her night has in store for her. She needs to get drunk – so fucking drunk that her mind shuts up for one second. She needs not to feel because it's too overwhelming. And she needs to stop thinking, just for one fucking night.

She sits down in a bar stool rather abruptly, which catches the attention of one of the bartenders.

"What can I get you?" He asks, as he approaches her.

"Whiskey. Neat." Beca says, already digging into her back pocket for some cash.

She downs the drink as soon as the bartender hands it over, then asks for another, which he raises an eyebrow at but pours it anyway. Beca does the same for that one then pushes the glass over to him, with only the ice remaining.

"Can I get a beer?"

"Sure." He nods and reaches for one of the bottles under the bar, cracking it open before passing it to her. She hands over enough cash to cover the three drinks and then settles back in her chair.

She doesn't stop at three, but after five she stops counting.

Beca is a very big lightweight so it doesn't take her long to get absolutely wasted.

The very reasoning for getting drunk in the first place is actually the reason she leaves the bar. Chloe is still all she can think about, the redhead is possessing her mind and she can't stop her thoughts.

"I'm so fucking stupid!" Beca mutters to herself as she drags her feet towards the Barden University campus. She still has her laptop bag fitted on her shoulder, which she guarded possessively at the bar, not letting it out of her sight in case someone spilt a drink on it or attempted to steal it.

All Beca can think about right now is how she wishes she was back at the Bellas house, in Chloe's arms.

Most people have that one person they think about when they're drunk, and for Beca, that person is Chloe. But it's not just when she's drunk, Chloe is in her sober mind constantly. She wishes she could fixate on something else for once but all Beca seems to think about – to care about – is Chloe.

She needs Chloe right now – not even really in a sexual way – she just wants Chloe to hold her and kiss her and run her hand through her hair. It isn't badass at all but Beca doesn't give a shit about her badass reputation anymore. Chloe saw through it right from the beginning.

Her thoughts are still drilling through her mind when she walks up the steps of the Bellas house. She's been so distracted that she hadn't even realised she got here; she can't even remember walking across campus.

Luckily, the door is still unlocked so she slips inside but it slams rather loudly when she closes it.

It's definitely the alcohol talking when she whispers to the door to 'shut up,' because it's 'going to wake everyone up.' Beca manages to stumble across the kitchen until she barges into the table, knocking over a chair which slams to the floor. She jumps backwards, kicking the table leg in the process.

"Fucking motherfucking shit." Beca hisses as she lifts up her foot and hobbles around the room whilst cradling her foot in her hands.

"Um...Beca? Are you okay?" The voice startles her so her body jolts upright. She snaps her head behind her and meets Stacie's gaze. She's standing in her very revealing pyjamas with her phone in her hand.

"Just peachy." Beca says, with a chuckle.

Stacie steps forwards and glances down at the chair lying on the kitchen floor. "Are you drunk?" She questions as she stands the chair back up.

"No. I am Beca."

That is all the confirmation Stacie needs, "Where have you been? This isn't like you at all."

"Who the hell even am I, dude? Who even am I when I'm not with her? Or who am I when I'm with her? Am I me with her or is she me with her...no, wait? I am me with her, but I don't know if I like that. It scares me how real I am with her, that is the real Beca Mitchell."

Stacie's eyebrows knot in confusion, "Beca, what are you talking about? I didn't understand anything you just said."

"I think I love her." Beca blurts out.

"Oh shit." Stacie chuckles, but stops when she acknowledges the pain on the small brunette's face. "This is all because of a girl?"

Beca lets out a loaded sigh, then nods, "Yeah. She's a girl. But I'm not gay...or maybe I am. Who knows?"

Stacie opens her arms, "Come here," she says, whilst holding back a laugh at Beca's expression. She's frowning and her face is all creased up.

"Why?" Beca groans.

"You could do with a hug." Stacie shrugs, "And you're pretty drunk, I don't want you to knock over anything else."

The smaller girl crosses her arms over her chest. "I don't want a hug. I want a hug from...but I keep on fucking up."

"No, you don't." Stacie says, which doesn't seem to reassure Beca at all. The taller girl follows her over to the couch and they take a seat at either end.

"She's beautiful, she's a beautiful panda and I...god, what am I doing?" She rakes her left hand through her hair whilst letting out a shaky breath.

This is a side of Beca that Stacie has never witnessed before, and it's kind of making her nervous. Whenever Beca is stressed or freaking out about something – it doesn't happen that often because Beca is pretty chill – Chloe is always the one to comfort her, so Stacie has no idea what to do.

She decides that sleeping it off is probably the best option. "Beca?"

"Hm?"

"Maybe you should get some sleep, think this over in the morning. Your beautiful panda will still be here in the morning." Stacie's attempt doesn't completely fail but mentioning Beca's 'beautiful panda' is probably not the best thing to say.

"She is really beautiful." Beca mumbles, her tone so soft as she talks about Chloe.

"So you've said." Stacie nods, with a smile. She's always known Beca's badass exterior was just for show and now she finally has a reason to believe that Beca is a big softie. She's falling in love.

Beca stands up rather suddenly, "I think I'm going to tell her."

Stacie groans at Beca, standing up too, just in case she has to be prepared to chase after the small brunette. "Have you just ignored everything I just said to you?"

"No." Beca grunts in response.

"Go to bed, Beca." She demands. Her tone is rather authoritative – she learnt a lot from Aubrey in her freshman year, including how to sound like a bitch in charge. "You can talk to her in the morning when you're not drunk."

Stacie helps Beca up the remaining stairs leading to the attic room. Luckily, she's as light as a feather because Beca was practically leaning her whole weight on Stacie so she was basically carrying her up the flight of stairs.

Fat Amy is already in her bed asleep, which is a surprise because most nights she disappears until the morning, claiming she was on a night time hike, which nobody believes because Amy is not one for exercise – she only vertical runs when she is escaping cardio, which is pretty ironic.

The small brunette flops onto her bed, making no attempt to change out of her jeans into something more comfortable.

Stacie places her hand on Beca's lower back and the other on her hip and tries to roll her over but Beca groans and kicks her legs about frantically. "Get your hands off, dude. I'm not the mega bitch."

"Mitchell, shut up!" Stacie whisper-yells, then pauses when she acknowledges what Beca has just said. "Wait, how did you know about-"

"Posen isn't exactly quiet."

A smirk appears on Stacie's face, "I know."

"Dude. Ew!"

"Where are your sweatpants?" The leggy brunette questions as she kneels down next to Beca's dresser, pulling out her first and second drawers but still not finding the clothing she's looking for.

"Second to bottom drawer." Beca mumbles, as she watches Stacie search through her clothes until she pulls out a pair of sweatpants that used to belong to Chloe before Beca borrowed them and never returned them to her.

Stacie launches the sweatpants across the room, and they land close to Beca's head. She grunts out a "Thanks," as she slips out of her jeans, too drunk and too tired to care that Stacie is still in the room. She slides into the sweatpants and strips her bra, then nestles under the blankets, ready for the sleep to overtake her thoughts.

Beca is known to disobey orders, especially from those giving her demands, so Stacie stands at the top of the stairs until Beca is consumed by sleep.

"You're in quite the shit my friend." Stacie whispers before disappearing down the attic stairs, heading towards hers and Emily's room.

- - - -

also on wattpad: @writteninbechloe

#bechloe #bechloe au #bechloe fic #bechloe fanfic #beca and chloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #unspoken feelings #wattpad #fanfiction #Anna Kendrick #brittany snow

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hatsukeii · 5 years ago

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hello! could you possibly do a scenario where tsukki has a secret passion for dancing, n one of his favs genres to listen to is like 80's music ?? i prefer it to be like raining n dark, just you two. i want tsukki n the girl to be like rly good friends, but tuskki lowkey likes her jus a bit n the girl is like totes in love with him, but they dont rly know about each other, until they like kiss after the songs stops. wkhsjdbf idk if this is too much but i love your writing sm!! thank you. 🥺❤

Okay that’s super cute so don’t worry lool

80s and indie music are SUPERIOR NO ONE TELL ME OTHERWISE.

I was looking through my playlist bc I have 80s songs but then I realised IT’S ALL ROCK LMFAO SO I HAD TO STEAL SONGS FROM MY FRIENDS JAHAHAH

Like I can’t make them dance to ACDC or like Guns n’ Roses wtf are they gonna do air guitars?

But then I realised I literally have a song called we can get together sooo👀👀👀👀

And I genuinely love it so much SOOOO👀👀

Earphones// Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word count: 2000+

Warnings: None lol I’m not even gonna warn for swearing anymore if it’s just swearing then none

Summary: You randomly discover Tsukishima’s knack for dancing.

You always saw him as a calm, or sly person. He was witty, mean, sarcastic, an asshole in every way possible. He was that one person that would call everyone out for looking stupid while dancing at a party, or the one that would remind couples on Valentine's day that it was to celebrate the death of a tortured and beheaded saint. He was pretty much the most no-bullshit person you’ve ever met. It was as if he simply didn’t understand the meaning of enjoyment, and thrived to seek out every opportunity to ruin it for others as well. He rarely went to social events, never showed up at parties, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile genuinely. Ever.

Yet tonight, you witnessed something you never thought would happen.

You see, every night, you would take a good old stroll around your neighbourhood. Tonight was no different, except it was pouring, the constant pitter patter of your umbrella clouding out any other sound that was coherent. Sometimes you might run into street vendors, other times you would get a bowl of ramen to fulfil your midnight hunger.

Walking along the street to your favourite convenience store, instead of an eerily empty park, what you saw was Tsukishima Kei, the one person you were somehow close to, sitting in a park, with no headphones on. What a shocker.

Ever since you gave him those iconic white headphones, he has never gone anywhere without them. It was as if those headphones were a staple of your friendship, or more so, how much he meant to you. Just saying, those things were expensive. Like eighteen thousand yen expensive. You knew how much Tsukishima enjoyed listening to music, especially whilst doing work. You saved up for months, just to scrape together enough money to get him a brand new pair of headphones to replace his broken ones that only worked in one ear and had shitty quality. You would never admit it, but something in your heart clenched at the sight of the absence of those headphones you spent so much on. Many might have thought you were just sensitive, but they didn’t understand. In fact, no one would understand how insanely in love you were with him.

“Hey, beanstalk.”

The blond looked up from his phone, his legs crossed on the bench.

“Well, would you look who’s here. It’s the infamous shorty.”

You approached his hunched-over figure, taking a seat next to him on the bench. “So, why are you here? It’s pretty late already.” Shoving your earphones into your ear, you hastily scrolled through your playlist, trying to hold off the urge to ask where his headphones were. “Lost my umbrella while going home from practise, it’s raining cats and dogs, I’m not looking to get soaked while going home, so I’m waiting for the rain to stop. Thank God I brought an extra sweater, my uniform is all wet and gross.” Chuckling, you punched him playfully, muttering a quick “Idiot,” before picking a song. You were very low-key about your feelings towards him. God knows how he would react if you ever told him. He would probably ignore you for the rest of your high school lives. Even worse, he might make fun of you for being childish and emotional. Just the thought of it sent shivers up your spine and a dark feeling towards your chest. Shaking your head, you tried your best to drown yourself in the terrifyingly loud music that was blasting through your earphones. From next to you, Tsukishima could hear every single note that was playing from the internal speakers. He scooted closer to you, much to your embarrassment. You grabbed your phone, pretending to scroll through it when in reality, you were just trying to hide the burning blush that was now painted on your cheeks. He paid attention to every little sound that came out of those tiny little earbuds, as if trying to figure out what song you were listening to was a fun game. Noticing the sudden absence of music in your left ear, you heard a tiny, almost breathy chuckle, followed by a pull on the earphone jack. “Pulp, hm? Nice taste you got there.” your eyes widened in surprise, mouth curling up into a wide smile. “Ahhh, never thought the great Tsukishima Kei would know them.” The blond smirked, shoving the rubber tip into his ear. “What do you mean? I have a playlist dedicated to this kind of stuff. 80s music will forever be superior.” You rolled your eyes, not falling for his shit. “Nonono, no way. Hand it over, I need to see for myself. I’m convinced you’re listening to raptor mating calls on a daily basis.” The blond shrugged, dropping his phone onto your lap. “See for yourself.” Opening up his Spotify, you were bombarded with a huge selection of his playlists. “Right there shorty, that’s the one you’re looking for?” Pointing his nimble finger at a specific one that was labeled “Old Stuff,” you scrolled through every single song, not believing what you’re seeing. “Holy shit, and I thought you would be into indie or EDM or something like that. This is some new information that I have to process.” Snatching his phone back, he wiped the screen with his sweater, turning it off. “That’s enough snooping for today. Come back at snooping hours again.”

It was at that moment, did the song decide to change.

“Yeah, no. We’re skipping this shit.” You acted sad, fake pouting and huffing out. “But Tsukishima! All Star is God’s work, you can’t just skip it! Here, I’ll sing it for you!” The blond tried to look at you in disgust, but the smile he was holding back was clear as day, biting his lip as he tried not to laugh at your silly antics. “Oh God (Y/N) please no-”

Too late.

“SomeBODY ONCE TOLD ME THE WORRRLD WAS GONNA ROLL ME, I AIN’T THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE SHEDDDD.”

“Absolutely not.” Laughing softly, Tsukishima managed to heave out.

Grabbing your phone and shoving it in front of your face, he unlocked it with ease, navigating his way through the five pages of otome games to find your Spotify. “Jesus Christ, never knew you were this desperate for a man.” The tips of his ears were red, one thought circling his mind.

If she really wanted a boyfriend, would she pick him?

Grabbing his arm, you begged for him to let you continue jamming to All Star. You were shaking him, trying to grab your phone, but nothing worked. “Nooo! Kei! Nooooo lemme listen to the Shrek sex anthem!”

“No.”

Scrolling through your usual playlist, his eyes landed on one particular song. “Hm? What’s this? You listen to Icehouse? Nice taste you got there.” Your grip on his arm loosened up as you looked up at him in shock. “You know them too! Yes! They’re very much adequate.” You stared in awe as the blond smiled from ear to ear, picking a song much to your dismay. “Yesss I love this song with my whole heart. My dinosaurs make way for this.” Hearing the similar synth, you instantly knew what he had picked. “Seriously? You like this song? It’s like cheesy as shit! This is so out of character for you oh my God Kei.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, completely done with you. “It’s a good song, don’t come at me. Plus, if you think it’s so cheesy, then just delete it.” You frowned. You liked that it was cheesy. You always imagined someone singing it to you, most of the time this imaginary person being Tsukishima. “I like this song too, it’s fine.” The two of you sat in comfortable silence, your earphone jack being the only thing connecting you guys. The park felt weird. You felt weird. This whole situation was weirdly unreal. It was as if the two of you were stuck in a parallel universe, where you and Tsukishima were the only people that existed in that timeline. The silence was thick in the starry night sky, the streetlamps occasionally flickering as the song continued to play. Humming along to the addicting tune, you don’t even realise your body that’s starting to rock, arms swaying from side to side to the rhythm of the chorus.

“We can get together,“

“Get up.”

A hand comes into your sight, willing for you to take it as you feel another tug on your earphones.

“What?”

“You wanna dance, don’t you?”

Never in a million years, would the thought of Tsukishima being able to dance even cross your mind.

“What? It’s raining, I thought you said you didn’t wanna get soaked-”

“Just take my hand and dance with me.”

Hesitating a bit as you looked up at the blond, you raised a brow, grinning playfully as you let your hand fall into his, pulling yourself up and letting him take your other hand. You felt the cold droplets of water fall onto your skin and rolling off, the fabric of your shirt going damp.

“Just take one step forward,” he instructed, motioning for you to follow along with his dance moves. “Then take another step backwards. Everything else will come into place soon enough.” Lacing your fingers with his, the two of you danced in perfect sync, having the time of your lives. “I am learning so, so much about you right now and I’m all for it. Why’d you never tell me you could dance?” Tsukishima’s cheeks went a light pink, looking away bashfully. “It’s embarrassing.” Chuckling, you twirled yourself around, pulling on his arm as you forced his attention back onto you. “It’s not. I think it’s super cool. Do this with a girl and they’ll be head over heels for you in no time.” You mentally facepalmed yourself for saying that. His blush went from a light pink, to a dark red in no time, saturating his cheeks like paint. “Let’s test that theory out.” Mumbling to himself, he continued to guide you, twirling you around and hoisting you up at times.

“Baby we can get together, we can get together.”

The two of you were just jamming along now, not caring about your wet hair and soaked clothes. Tsukishima’s hair was now a damp mess, sticking to his forehead as he whipped his head from side to side, laughing as water droplets flew off his blond strands. Your hair was no better than his, (H/C) strands reflecting the light from the streetlamps as they hit your face with every sway of your head. The earphones were falling off at this point, but it didn’t matter. The two of you already memorised the entire song beforehand. All you wanted was to enjoy the short moment. Grabbing his wet hand again, you randomly started jumping to the beat, letting the blond follow along.

“Later sometime, you can buckle my shoes, you can pick up my sticks, why don't you open that door.”

You gasped in surprise as you felt a large hand spin you around one last time, before dipping you dangerously close to the floor, rainwater rolling off your face. The song came to an end with its final guitar chord, the reverb still ringing in the background. “So, what’d you think?” Tsukishima leaned down, his face dangerously close to yours. Feeling a Cheshire grin form on your face as your tried to raise your head up, you gave his nose a boop with your own, before falling back onto his hand. “That was amazing.” Giving you a cheeky grin, you could feel his breath on your face as he sighed contentedly. His breath smelled like mints, you couldn’t help but wonder how lips would taste too. “You good now, or do you wanna go home? I think the rain just stopped.

Still in that intimate position, you decided to finally ask him.

“Where are the headphones?”

“I didn’t want to get them wet, they’re too important to me. They’re in my bag.”

And that’s when your body decided to act on its own.

Your mind couldn’t even register what you were doing as you pressed a long, soft kiss on Tsukishima’s lips, feeling the heat radiating off of him.

“Now I’m good. Wanna go home?”

“Did you just-”

“Yes.”

Pushing you back up to a comfortable position, he stared at you for another ten seconds, face burning crimson as his mouth opened and shut repeatedly, trying to process what you just did. Finally snapping out of his thoughts, he awkwardly leaned towards you, before pulling himself back. After doing that a few times over, you were properly confused. Grabbing your shoulders, he pressed a firm kiss to your forehead, before grabbing his bag from the bench he was sitting on, pulling his headphones out and hanging them on his neck, handing you the earphones.

“Wanna do this again tomorrow shorty?”

“11pm sharp, don’t be late, and I expect another kiss.”

“Whatever you say cutie.”

Tags:

@tiger1719 @burnt-tomato @thirstyvolleyballhoe @agentvicinity @izzyphantomgamer @sunshines-and-tatertots @sakusasgarbage @trashcanweeb @kaylacinderella @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @random-fandomlover @bokutokoutarou @for-ests @mariechan123 @justachillgirl @ewfilthymundane @just-another-bored-writer @inlwlevi @tiredgr3mlin @itmekisuu

I’m gonna check over the tags again tmr so feel free to dm or comment if I missed you or if you wanna be in the taglist

Eyyyy this isn’t that great but I hope you like it and feel free to give me feedback both good and bad lol love you guys I’m going to sleep now baiiii

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu tsukishima #hq #hq x reader #hq headcanons #hq scenario #hq imagine #hq tsukki #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima scenario #icehouse #please read this i crave validation and feedback lmao #love you guys muah

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bravomckenzie · 5 years ago

Text

fluff alphabet: bobby mckenzie

i must admit that i haven’t written anything fic-ish since i was a teenager in the midst of my 1d stan days so i’m kinda nervous to post this lol. thank you to @ravena-dottir and @therealityofthematteris for being supportive and saying i should go ahead and go for it and post this. 🥺 also i’m sorry if it’s bad!! be gentle with me!!! it’s also pretty long and whether that’s a good or bad thing is up to you hahahah.

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Bobby loves the way you light up a room. He loves the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. How your laughter is loud and unapologetic - it’s music to his ears. As for your body, he loves every inch of it but if he had to pick, your thighs & butt.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Bobby can’t wait to have kids, especially with you. He’s excited to send them special baked treats in their lunches and to wave them off as they get on the bus each morning. He hopes they look like you.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

We been knew Bobby loves to be little spoon, so besides that - He loves to face each other in an embrace. His arms wrapped around your neck and yours around his waist while you scratch his back & chat until you both drift asleep.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Despite waking up beside you every morning, Bobby never stops trying to woo you. He still flirts with you the way he did on the first day in the villa. He feels like the luckiest man alive to have you, and he’ll do anything to keep you. The romance is still alive, no matter where you are or what you do. From wearing your nicest clothes in a fancy restaurant, all the way to your pajamas on the couch for a movie night. He never fails to impress you.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

You are my home. Bobby had never known someone who felt like home... at least until he met you. Home is wherever he is with you. You’re his comfort and home base, where he goes when he needs a soft place to fall.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Bobby knew he was in for it the second he laid eyes on you. He felt a spark before you even spoke. He knew you were special from the moment he met you. You slowly became the only thing he thought about. He found himself just staring at you, lost in your beauty. Your laughter became his favorite song. He wasn’t joking around and being funny for everyone anymore, he was doing it for you. After you left for Casa Amour, he realized that. He realized you were all he wanted. He missed just the sound of your voice. He had never felt that way in his life. He knew then that you were the love of his life. Bobby didn’t come to the villa with the intentions of finding forever, but he realized he had found it with you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Bobby’s gentle touch was something you quickly noticed about him. The way his hand would gently rest on the small of your back. How he would softly tuck your hair behind your ear before he kissed you. But sometimes, he gets lost in you and the kisses become harder, the grips become tighter. He’s the best of both worlds.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

If Bobby is able to be touching you, he will be. (That’s one of my headcannons for him. I imagine that touch is his love language.) He rarely lets go of your hand in public. He loves for everyone to see that you’re with him. He finds comfort in your fingers intertwined. He loves the way your hand looks in his.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

When you walked out in front of him on that first day in the villa, he assumed he was your last choice. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen and he was just him. He didn’t know that he instantly caught your eye and sometimes, he still doesn’t believe you when you tell him that. You’re not just the girl of his dreams, but the girl of his wildest dreams. He thought that girls like you didn’t like guys like him. He was just the class clown and you were the head cheerleader. But at the same time, he wasn’t going to let any of that stand in his way. He knew then that he was going to spend that summer with you, and if he didn’t, he would’ve spent the whole summer trying.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Not at all. Bobby enjoys other guys looking at you. He knows that every eye is on you when you walk in a room and he loves it. He wants them to see that he’s the one you’re with. Other guys flirting with you boosts his ego. He takes it as a compliment himself. When the two of you are out at a bar together and guys send you drinks, he looks their way and raises the glass with a smile to say thanks before drinking it himself. When they compliment you, he tells them they have good taste while he wraps his arm around you as a subtle hint to back off. It amuses him. Any guy would love for you to be their girl, but you’re not. You’re his and he knows that... and he loves for them to know it too.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

You initiated your first kiss, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was scared of messing up. He didn’t want to screw it up before he got a real chance at impressing you. He was surprised when you kissed him, in the best way possible. Your confidence and boldness impressed him. He had always been in control and setting the pace for the relationships he had in the past, it was new and foreign to him, but above all, it was exciting.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He did. Bobby is the kind of person who is all or nothing. He dives in deep. He gives everything his all. He also sees no reason to ever not be 100% open and honest with the important people in his life. He had to tell you that he loved you. He needed you to know, no matter how nervous he was to finally tell you.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

In the villa, Bobby’s favorite memory with you is your trip to the grocery store. He was so excited to be in the real world with you. He cherishes that first taste of life outside the villa. It was when he really knew that this wasn’t just a summer fling.

Outside the villa, the day you met his family. He had never seen his parents welcome anyone the way they did you. Bobby had only ever brought one other girl home to meet his parents and it didn’t go well. You both were a little nervous (not that he let you see it) considering that and some of your....shenanigans they had to watch on national television. You weren’t sure what they’d think of you. The way they wrapped you in their arms made you feel silly for ever thinking that though. He’ll never forget the pride he felt when his dad commented that you were even better in person than you were on TV or the sound of his mom’s voice telling him that she knew you were the one from the very first day in the villa.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Bobby isn’t concerned with material things, neither are you. Your love languages are far from gifts. You both tend to show your love through touch, but especially Bobby. A hand on your thigh in the car means more to both of you than a bracelet. But when it is time for gifts, the both of you go all out. Neither of you have to tell the other what you want as gifts because you both just know.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Bobby if he could only pick one, he would say the color yellow because to him, it’s the happiest color. But there isn’t anything in this world that doesn’t make him think of you. You’re every color.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Lass, of course. There’s an occasional sprinkling in of things like baby/babe, beautiful, darling, etc.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

If he’s not building blanket forts in the living room with you, you’re cuddled up on the couch watching something together while you wait for whatever he’s got baking in the kitchen to be ready.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Bobby firmly believes that laughter is the best medicine. When you’re down, he’s quick to find something to make you laugh. You do the same for him. You both always forget what it was that upset you in the first place.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Bobby wants to talk about anything and everything. He wants to know your opinion on everything under the sun (and you’ll give it to him!). He asks you random questions seemingly out of the blue. He wants to know everything there is to know about you. He loves hearing your stories as much as you do his.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Cooking and baking! You can always find him in the kitchen at the end of a stressful day. Those previously mentioned shenanigans help too.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

You. you, you, you... a million times you. You’re his proudest achievement. He’s no stranger to PDA. Like I said, he wants everyone to know that you’re his. He knows they want what he has. Besides that, he loves to show off his baking skills. He’s always doing the most and being extra about his creations, just because he can.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

That next summer after the villa, you and the other islanders planned a group vacation. You wanted to spend at least part of the summer with them again for old times’ sake. He knew he wanted to do it then, in front of all the people who had become like your family in that one summer. They were the people who watched the two of you fall in love and he felt it was only right that they be there when he proclaimed his eternal love for you.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur & New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift

bonus: Creep - Radiohead always makes him think of you! also shameless self promo of my bobby playlist which includes all three of these songs lol

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

You and Bobby talk about your wedding constantly, planning long before he technically proposed.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

A rescue dog! A medium to large sized pup. You’re definitely dog people. I imagine it would be a cute and scruffy mixed breed.

#litg #love island the game #litg mc #litg bobby #love island the game bobby #bobby x mc #mc x bobby #bobby mckenzie #fluff alphabet #litg fluff #litg2 #litg season 2 #litg fic #mine #bobby #other

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grimelords · 5 years ago

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My November playlist is complete from Aretha Franklin to Blood Incatation, and I guarantee there’s at least something in here you’ll love. Thanks for listening!

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Don't Start Now - Dua Lipa: Dua Lipa said disco lives. I absolutely love this song, it’s rock solid disco without being throwback or ironic about it. The way this song starts with the first line of the chorus and then launches into the verse and only gives you the full chorus later feels like that thing movie trailers do now where they give you a little trailer before the trailer for some reason. It’s also something I’ve never heard before, and it gives the song a very fun structure in the intro where it has two different levels of elevation it can drop down to before the bass properly drops in. I think Dua Lipa understands something fundamental about being a pop singer: literally the only thing you have to do is make bangers. She has basically zero personality and was criticised massively around New Rules for having zero stage presence (which she's definitely gotten better at since) but I kind of like it like that - she's just an unknowable blank canvas that's not particularly interested in any kind of narrative, she just makes bangers.

Mirage (Don't Stop) - Jessie Ware: Jessie Ware has been putting out some extremely good singles since her last album and this song is another. It’s the kind of smooth neo-soul that Jungle is pioneering but the way this song is structured is really beautiful; it gives the ‘don’t stop moving’ part a lot of space early on before it really gets to take hold and take over the second half of the song - it gives the whole song this feeling of disco evolution and the song going on and on and changing rather than static pop.

What A Fool Believes - Aretha Franklin: I can’t believe I’ve never heard Aretha’s version of What A Fool Believes before. It’s amazing. It’s the best kind of cover where you just basically do the song exactly the same but better in every single way. Push the tempo slightly, put big brass in it, make the bass hot as hell, sing the hell out of it, add a sax solo obviously. She takes such liberty with the rhythm of the vocals and it gives this whole song this great swooping and diving energy that just uplifts in such a beautiful way.

Walking Into Sunshine (Larry Levan 12” Mix) - Central Line: Something I love about this song is the crowd noise that breaks in with a ‘woo’ near the beginning. It’s such a strange little detail that instantly injects so much life and love into the track. It positions it at a party rather than a studio from the outset and somehow that mindset carries through the whole rest of the song even though the crowd noise only lasts a couple of seconds until they reconvene right at the very end.

Freedom - Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five: There was a time in the history of rap music where some kind of government mandate demanded that every song go for at least 7 minutes, so you ended up with great songs like this where they spend a good couple minutes in the middle killing time by going through everyone’s star sign and then asking the crowd their star sign too. Also they appear to have recorded their own kazoos on the track over the kazoos in the sample, which is a lesson in good production everyone take.

Freedom Funk It Up Freedom - Freedom: I was looking up where the sample on that Grandmaster Flash song Freedom was from and it turns out it’s from this band called Freedom. Easy enough. This isn’t the song Freedom samples though, this is Freedom’s other song Freedom Funk It Up Freedom. It’s fucking hot and contains maybe the livest crowd I’ve ever heard, they are just going absolutely nuts the whole time and it only helps the energy of the song which is already off the charts.

Set Guitars To Kill (Live) - And So I Watch You From Afar: For the 10th anniversary of their debut album, And So I Watch You From Afar just played the whole thing front ot back and put it out as a live album, and it’s amazing. They’re an instrumental band that’s always emphasised the rock part of post-rock, in the same space as bands like 65daysofstatic and Russian Circles but not so self-serious about it, just big honking rock and roll tunes with a surprising depth and complexity to them that never get bogged down in ambient buildups or the other space-making trappings of post-rock. Their debut album has always been my favourite of theirs because it felt the most ‘live’ and wasn’t as cleanly produced as their subsequent releases (which are still very good), and so this live version feels sort of like a definitive version for me, like this is how it was always meant to sound but they didn’t have enough fans to do the ‘woo!’ part properly yet, which is one of the most purely joyful moments in music.

Bullet The Blue Sky (Live) - U2: I saw U2 this week for the second time in my life and guess what: they’re still great. Even though they’re old as fuck and Bono is getting stranger and stranger they’ve still got it. They have a very good bit of stage design going with this current tour where for a big chunk of it they’re out on a little platform in the middle of everyone with no screens or fancy lights and it’s one of the most effective ways I’ve seen of making an arena show feel like an actual intimate experience. I was a million miles away and Bono looked like an ant more than usual but the energy still came across. Then, when they do the Joshua Tree Start To Finish part of the show they have big visuals for every song but it’s still pretty light on actual cameras on the band, which I think works really well - a sort of best of both worlds where you get the arena show but the actual band performance. This song was a highlight for me, and they’ve somehow managed to make it even more ferocious now than ever before. It got extremely noisy, far noisier than you’d ever expect from U2 at least and really amped up the swirling energy that I’ve always loved about this song. People accuse U2's politics of being too wide ranging, and it's well founded they're the prototypical 'heal the world' rock stars - even in this song and the way they've repurposed its messages to fit various political causes over the years they've tried to dilute it, but this feels to me like a song that you can't wash the meaning out of no matter how hard you try. It's one of the best and most direct criticisms of American evil put to song, and it's an arena song that doesn't particularly have an arena melody to it. Especially in the Joshua Tree/Rattle And Hum era, U2 have always been captivated by the American mythos but have never been able to completely ingratiate themselves as an American Rock Band because they're not and I think that point of difference in identity has them uniquely positioned to criticise the American mythos as well. They can have it both ways because they can't fully have it, so in this song the circle of American violence is complete in the women and children who run from the American fighter planes into the arms of America as refugees. Bono's actually mad, which is a nice change of pace from love healing the world.

Gingerly - Enemies: I love this Enemies album so much. A sweet spot between post-rock and midwest emo math guitar, and listening to it now this song really stood out in a way it hasn’t before. It turns up at a good spot in the album just as you might be getting tired of the twinkly clean guitars that characterise the rest of it and burns a hole in the speaker with that distorted bass and siren guitar sound.

You Look Certain (I’m Not So Sure) - WXAXRXP Session - Mount Kimbie: I think every band should get the chance to re-record their album a year or two after they’ve put it out, once they’ve had a chance to really sit with the songs for a while and figure out exactly how they work because this version is just so much better than the album version (which was already great!). The guitar sound is so much bigger, properly leaning into the post-punk idea they were only exploring on the album, and the vocals are so much stronger and more up front which makes it feel so much more like a full song than an experiment. This whole Warp Session EP is fantastic and I’ve been listening to it on repeat, it’s so great that they’ve morphed from this insular electronic duo into a proper band over the years and I'm excited to see where they'll take it next.

Peace To All Freaks - of Montreal: The new of Montreal single is great. Embracing an 80s dance vibe and immediately turning his back on it in the opening lines and not going out because he needs to educate himself instead. I love this song, an unironic and non-cheesy rallying against negativity which is a lot harder to do with earnesty than they make it sound here.

Taipei - Social Climbers: Thankyou to my friend and yours agrifuture for this recommendation. Social Climbers played an odd and paranoid version of art rock in the early 80s that on this song at least sounds more like modern opera trying to fit itself to a rock band than anything else. I can also say with confidence this is the only song I’ve ever heard where someone sends a quiche back in the middle of it.

Mad Eyed Screamer - The Creatures: I’ve never gotten much into Siouxie And The Bashees, they're probably somewhere on my list of bands to have a deep three week long obsession with somewhere in the future, but for now my biggest exposure to them is the time The Weeknd sampled them. I am, however, deeply interested in this drums and vocals only side project that Siouxie Sioux formed with her then-partner Budgie. I’m a big fan of any kind of restricted composition like this and I love this song. It’s so busy and the amount of reverb and extra percussion going on makes for this extremely chaotic, noisy vision of what is essentially a folk song in its lyric and melody.

Black Magic - Jarvis Cocker: I found out that the main guitar part in this song is sampled from Crimson & Clover by Tommy James and The Shondells. Which is something I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, a rock song like this built around a sample. Not exactly sampling in order to recontextualise across genres or approaches but sampling to recontextualise in a lateral, parallel approach. I love this song because his delivery is so feverish and impassioned it really does feel like he’s seen beyond the veil and come back without the language or capacity to explain what he saw, only the passion.

Year In Pictures - Dick Diver: Every year since this album came out it's shown up somewhere in my Spotify most listened list at the end of the year. It's surprising because I don't think of it as one of my all time favourites when it definitely is, it's such an easy listen that it just comes and goes pleasantly. This song is kind of about that feeling I guess, of things just happening and time just passing pleasantly enough year on year, everthing in its own time while the past disappears and doesn't matter anymore. "Whatever happens, I think everything will"

Heart - Bertie Blackman: I love the percussion in this song, the same propulsive clapping-centred beat that makes Single Ladies so good with the dark grinding bass underneath it that just pulses malevolently until the gearshift of the chorus where it morphs immediately into this 60s soul version of itself, with the ooh la la backing vocals and everthing, and that disonnance between the two styles drives the song for me. Where the verse lays out the evil plainly and the music matches, the chorus accentuates it in wide eyed irony "I know there's something sick with what I've been sold" sung with a smile and showgirl backing vocals.

Love Lockdown - Kanye West: Something I think we’re all learning as Kanye loses his mind completely on the world stage is that Kanye has always been insane. He has always had an unnervingly powerful self-belief and unwavering vision that has up until recently been what made him such a unique and era-defining artist. After the radical directions of MBDTF and Yeezus it’s sort of hard to remember just how radical 808s And Heartbreaks was at the time because unlike the self aware harshness and strangeness of the other two it was also so pop adjacent, because of its 80s synthpop influence but also because of the way it (and T-Pain) impacted all other pop music of the time. The instrumentation on this song is still so staggering, even just the pitched kick at the centre I could listen to on loop forever I think.

It Might Be Time - Tame Impala: Absolutely cannot wait for the new Tame Impala if this and Patience are any indication. The absolutely huge blown out drums on this are so good and remind me of something I’ve been trying to place for weeks and can’t. Maybe a Chemical Brothers song or some kind of big beat era thing. I think of Kevin Parker and Adam Granduciel from The War On Drugs as the same kind of guys, absolute craftsmen studio nerds that are completely obsessed with sound but unlike most other guys of that genre are actually great songwriters as well. Long haired studio hermits that emerge every few years to bless us all.

Never Again - Kelly Clarkson: I’ve been trying to decide whether this or Since U Been Gone is a better song and I’ve settled on this having the superior verses and Since U Been Gone the better chorus. The absolute venom in the lyrics is incredible. “I hope the ring you gave to her turns her finger green. I hope when you’re in bed with her you think of me” is like.. the most metal opening I’ve ever heard. She literally sings “You’ll die together, but alone” in the second verse, jesus christ.

Giant Swan - The Blood Brothers: I found out recently from reading the wiki article on screamo (which like almost all wiki articles about music genres is about 60% artists claiming that genres are fake and critics coining new genre names half in jest) that The Blood Brothers were apparently part of a screamo subgenre called Sass, which is a term I have never heard before in my life and certainly never heard in the heyday of the style. You learn something every day I suppose. “It originated as an opposing style of hardcore punk to the machismo in heavy hardcore scenes. It takes influence from genres such as post-punk, new wave, disco, electronic, dance-punk, emoviolence, grindcore, metalcore and heavy hardcore. The genre is characterized by often incorporating overtly flamboyant mannerisms, erotic lyrics featuring sexual tension, and a lisping vocal style. The genre is also noted for its "spastic edge", blast beats, chaotic guitars, danceable beats and the use of synthesizers.” My understanding is that when emo went mainstream and the split between ‘emo’ as a music and ‘scene’ as a fashion occurred, this is the music that emerged from the middle ground. Turning against the masculinity of their screamo forebears and toward the queer aesthetics of scene, the resulting style was still furious and violent but furious with a light cabaret (but like, if cabaret was good and not just a guy in a top hat emoting, a different style of emo that Panic! At The Disco famously pioneered) and violent in a psychedelic, surreal way that set it apart from the depressed and black aesthetics of the rest of emo. I love The Blood Brothers and have never found another band like them in terms of lyrical inventiveness and sheer vocal insanity, the characteristic shrill falsetto that sporadically turns to screams is an amazing choice that’s incredible it works at all. This song especially stands out as unique even amongst the chaos of their discography. The loping lounge feel in the first half, coupled with the properly surreal description of the giant swan in the lyrics establishes such an strange and dark cabaret mood that makes this song so oddly singular to me.

The Ripper - The Used: I really appreciate the production on this whole album, it is so overdone and hyperactive that it creates this irrepressible momentum because something is always happening. The songs themselves are incredibly compressed in structure and extremely hook heavy, and it feels like to counteract and complement that approach they‘ve been gone over bar by bar finding every possible spot to add interest. Dynamics shifting, drums filtering and then revealing themselves, choirs appearing from this air for two lines. Guitar squeals fly in and out in the background and the bass suddenly becomes extremely chunky in parts. The whole mix gets sucked down a black hole and then a little glockenspiel outlines the vocal melody in the background for a second leading back into a huge chorus. Everything happen in this short song. It’s an interesting approach that can be overwhelming, but it has undeniable results.

Ilana - Mdou Moctar: Mdou Moctar rocks because he takes a big power chord riff like the one at the start of this song that could just as easily start a Thin Lizzy song and then immediately discards it and twists a melting solo that crosses time and space for the rest of the song instead.

Ancestral Recall (feat. Saul Williams) - Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah: The press release for this album says: “In its inception, Ancestral Recall was built as a map to de-colonialize sound; to challenge previously held misconceptions about some cultures of music; to codify a new folkloric tradition and begin the work of creating a national set of rhythms; rhythms rooted in the synergy between West African, First Nation, African Diaspora/Caribbean rhythms and their marriage to rhythmic templates found in trap music, alt-rock, and other modern forms. It is time we created a sound that dispels singular narratives of entire peoples and looks to finally represent the wealth of narratives found throughout the American experience. One that shows that all forms of expression in sound are valid, as all people are." All that and a bit of spoken word at the start that sounds like Hannibal Buress’ Morpheus Walruses rap and I’m sold. I’m such a fan of jazz like this that purposefully opens itself up to the influence of the modern world and modern tradition, and the percussion work across this album in particular is so unique and really does what he set out to do in my opinion, bringing the rhythms of tradition into a modern context seamlessly.

Spider Hole - Billy Woods & Kenny Segal: I only found out about Billy Woods this month and I’m surprised I’ve never heard of him before because he feels like the middle of the venn diagram between Earl Sweatshirt, Aesop Rock and Death Grips. This flat out sounds like a Death Grips song played at half speed. The justified paranoia and anger that runs through this whole album is palpable and jumbled, centring around a feeling of lashing out in a moment of hopelessness because you don’t know what else you can do. "4 million USD hovering over some mud huts, it's nuts, it's not the heat it's the dust" is one of the most evocative lines of the year for me.

El Toro Combo Meal (feat. Mavi) - Earl Sweatshirt: When this new earl EP came out I listened to it 4 times in a row because it is just so compulsively brilliant. He’s refining his style more and more with every release and he’s honed it to this fine point now where every song is so super dense in its lyrical content and production that a full length release would almost be too much. There’s just so much to absorb here. Mavi’s verse is incredible too. I’ve never heard of him before but I’m a big supporter now. The beats too, through this whole EP are the kind that sound like a radio stuck between stations - looping snatches of vocals and drums drowned out in tape hiss where the beat is only a suggestion that Mavi and Earl both glide over on some sort of metric modulation and only land every now and then just to take off again.

Drug Dealer - Slowthai: Slowthai is so full of fire on this song it's scary. Facing a dead end future down and screaming that something's gotta change, and that he's the one to do it.

Lighthouse (feat. Rico Nasty, Slowthai and ICECOLDBISHOP) - Take A Daytrip: I have never heard of Take A Daytrip before this song but doing some research it turns out I have heard them, because they produced Panini by Lil Nas X. I have also never heard of ICECOLDBISHOP before but the way he brings an absolutely deranged verse on this song has made me an instant fan. I love this trio of features: three out there, huge personality voices at the outer limits of mainstream rap that in their oddness complement each other perfectly.

Rich Girl - Michie One & Louchie Lou: Something I learned this month was that Rich Girl by Gwen Stefani isn't a direct rip of If I Were A Rich Man from Fiddler On The Roof, it actually samples this song which acts as a sort of bridge between the two, and I think there's something interesting in the transfer of intention between the three songs, lyrically and musically. In the original his conception of a rich man is someone who can afford to have lots of ducks and geese, eat well and have enough time to pray because he doesn't have to work, then in the Michie One & Louchie Lou version rich is being able to feed your family and start a school (as well as play the horses and never lose), and in the Gwen Stefani version rich is having a house in Hollywood and London, clearing out designer stores, and buying four Harajuku girls and naming them Love, Angel, Music and Baby. It spirals up mercilessly from geese to, I guess, human trafficking. Musically there's a transformation as well, where the jewishness of the 'daidle daidle deedle daidle dumb' in the orginal is changed to a 'na na na na na' in this version and only a part of the original melodic lilt remains, a part that is completely ironed out in the Gwen Stefani version's 'na na na na na's. The downsides of wealth morph too, in the original it's simply not a part of God's plan, in this version it can't buy love, is the root of all evil (is a worldwide thing / rich is getting richer while the poor are getting stink) and only leads to more trouble (you reap but you never did sow / rich today you could be poor tomorrow / mind your back and watch your enemies grow) but in the Gwen Stefani version being rich is amazing on its own and the only thing that can top it is your love.

Santa Teresa - EOB: Tricked into enjoying ambient side projects once again. Ed O'Brien from Radiohead's new side project came up on my Discover Weekly without me realising it was him and I absolutely loved it. It’s expansive and cinematic and nice in a way that feels rare in ambient experimental stuff like this, to not be morose or depressing and gloomy for its own sake. It’s sharp and angular, or as sharp and angular as a song as slow moving as this can be and reminds me in part of HEALTH’s Max Payne 3 soundtrack, and Emma Ruth Rundle’s Electric Guitar One which are both masterpieces on their own.

Rough Sleeper - Burial: Reading Mark Fisher’s Ghosts Of My Life I was pleasantly surprised to see his Burial interview in there that I remember reading years and years ago before I knew who Mark Fisher was. I’ve thought of parts of that article here and there ever since and finally placing it in the wider context of Mark’s work was very satisfying, it’s funny how people come back to you in different forms over your lifetime. I don’t listen to Burial much now, or at least not as much as I used to at the height of my depression a few years ago where he was on near constant repeat and as a result his music became completely waterlogged with the feeling of that time and I couldn’t listen to him at all for a while without the memories completely marring any appreciation. But time passes as it does and it’s a nice feeling to finally be able to listen to Untrue again and not have it be so permanently soaked with memories of the worst time of my life, and now with a different mindset and viewpoint I can really see different sides of his music. Where before all I could hear was the bleak and empty future haunted by the ghosts of the past, now new colours appear - a warmth of hazy, pleasant memory and imagination. Reds and oranges creep into the black and grey and this song can feel like staying under covers while it storms outside instead of standing in the rain.

Night MXCMPV1 P74 - Venetian Snares & Daniel Lanois: I really don’t think I’ll ever hear another album like this in my life. The push and pull of the humanity of Lanois’ pedal steel and the digital nightmare of Venetian Snares percussion is just so engaging, and the moments where they overlap and move together in harmony contrast so beautifully with the times they feel like they’re playing two different songs altogether. Then they overlap, the effects overpower the steel guitar and it moves into a leaping angular digital realm and the percussion coalesces into an altogether human rush, or as human as Venetian Snares can be.

Were You There When They Crucified My Lord - Marisa Anderson: I can't find the quote but somewhere when she was doing interviews about this album Traditional And Public Domain songs, Marisa Anderson said part of the reason she likes traditional songs so much is because when she was coming up and playing in cafes around town she mistakenly thought she'd have to pay royalties if she did covers of popular songs, so she only did public domain songs instead.

Were You There When They Crucified My Lord - Johnny Cash: Another side of Were You There When They Crucified My Lord, one that expands magically into an amazing many-layered harmony led by June’s high and lonesome howl.

See That My Grave's Kept Clean - Blind Lemon Jefferson: Jefferson was buried at Wortham Negro Cemetery in 1929. His grave was unmarked until 1967, when a Texas historical marker was erected in the general area of his plot; however, the precise location of the grave is still unknown. By 1996, the cemetery and marker were in poor condition, and a new granite headstone was erected in 1997. The inscription reads: "Lord, it's one kind favour I'll ask of you, see that my grave is kept clean." In 2007, the cemetery's name was changed to Blind Lemon Memorial Cemetery, and his gravesite is kept clean by a cemetery committee in Wortham.

The Giza Power Plant - Blood Incantation: What I find so appealing about Blood Incantation is how dedicated they are. Zealots to the cult of being long haired death metal guys who wholeheartedly and sincerely believe in interdimensional aliens and the pyramids being the remnants of an ancient advanced technology. The dedication extends to them being maybe some of the best players in the genre I’ve ever heard, and them recording this whole album analog live in studio is such a feat of performance that adds another layer of intensity to this already extremely intense music.

listen here

#playlists

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katelides · 5 years ago

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Walking on sunshine - Bechloe Mini Fic pt 7

I realize I have not posted in a very very long time... and I am sorry... I am posting 2 chapters for this mini fic today and I am working on the next one as we speak! So I am getting back out there!!

Chapter 7: It must have been love

The girls are all getting dressed with an 80s playlist blaring in the background, getting them all in the mood. Leave it to Maddie to decide that a themed hen night is what she wants. Everyone is dressing up in vintage clothes, and tuning their hair and makeup into the selected time.

They are all having a ton of fun, messing with each other while helping simultaneously. All the girls have their own costume they are picking. Or a certain style. Aubrey and Stacy had decided to take on a prep school look with Sperry Top-Siders, to show off intelligence yet still looking sexy as hell.

Fat Amy, Maddie and Chloe had each decided on a specific outfit that resembles Cindy Lauper in some way. Maddie even going as far as putting on a blonde wig. This only because when they were younger, they were obsessed with her hit song ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. A motto at least 2 have lived by since. Chloe just loved the song but couldn’t decide whether this was something she wanted to be remembered by for the rest of her life, and still isn’t.

Titziana, who is joining the gang, is sporting pooled up cringed hair. Wearing a black dress and a jean jacket on top. Showing off just enough cleavage to attract the other gender for sure. Emily, on the other hand, is wearing high-waisted jeans and a Coca Cola crop top sweater, and having her hair curled perfectly.

The girls all make it to the club around 10 PM and instantly pull each other towards the bar to take some shots. Maddie is the first one to semi reluctantly pour one down while the rest cheers her on. Shortly after the other girls, minus Emily, since she’s pretending to be pregnant for Maddie, and can’t drink.

The DJ watches the girls go loose and spots their outfits and instantly turns up the volume and blasting Fat Amy, Chloe and Maddie’s all-time favourite through the speakers. The girls go wild and head over to the dance floor, to dance until their hearts are beating like crazy. Flirting and just being free from everything. The wedding, lies, and everything that is attached to what has occurred in the past few days.

At the club, Fat Amy and Aubrey had prepared a little surprise for everyone. They had hired some strippers. Both male a female, to spice up the evening. Maddie is really put on the spot but loves every second of it. How could she not? She has two sexy firemen grinding in her lap while three real-life pilots are already being pulled aside by Back at the club, Chloe is watching her sister getting handsy with the strippers, laughing her heart out, trying to remember everything for the following day. But deep inside she knows that she should not be here, not at the club, nor in Puglia and especially not at the wedding tomorrow. She can’t do it to herself, nor to her sister. She can’t keep pretending that everything is fine when it’s not.

Chloe manages to sneak out of the club, to grab some fresh air and think things over. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if she would have made an irrational decision without really thinking about it. She needs to put all her feelings into a neat line. Not just for her own sake.

Meanwhile, Beca, Jesse, Mike and Benji are having a blast, walking around town in their own 80s themed costumes. Beca having chosen a simple outfit, black jeans with a white shirt, topping it off with an army band jacket. Jesse is covering his musical movie tracks and wearing a white shirt with a leather jacket and high jeans with aviator sunglasses. Mikey is keeping it cool with his hair smoothly gelled backwards and a white button-up shirt. Benji is casually wearing a coloured polo shirt tucked into his jeans.

The four of them are cruising around town, from bar to bar. Enjoying Beca’s last night as a free woman together. Eventually, they stumble into a strip club, well slightly pulling Beca towards one, not giving her a chance to change her mind or even protest.

Beca is pushed into a chair, handed over another drink and gets a brunette shoved into her lap. If it wasn’t for her wedding the following day and her still raging feelings for her fiancee’s sister. She would be at least enjoying it. Right now though, she can’t seem to let go and just sits there with a forced smile, waiting for everything to be over. The night, and especially the wedding.

She quickly excuses herself from her chair and tells her brother that she needs some air after all the alcohol she has consumed. She heads out and sits down at the edge of a fountain, just taking her time to think. Her mind keeps playing back the memories of 3 years ago, and the memories of earlier that day. Could Chloes really not feel anything for her? Did she ever, really?

Beca has been sitting outside for about 30 minutes when Jesse stumbles towards her in a slightly inebriated state. Knowing that his little sister needs some guidance or at least support. He remembers how heartbroken she was when Chloe left and how Beca had not dated for over a year after that. He was there, every night when she cried, or more to say she pretended not to cry but he knew better.

“Hey, you all right?” Jesse asks, his voice filled with concern, and slightly slurred speech.

Beca rolls her eyes and watches her brother sit down. “Yeah, I’m fine.” She says once she knows the almost drunken mess next to her is ok. The brunette looks away, her mind yet again consumed by a bright flash of red.

“What’s up Becs?” Jesse asks. Not actually receiving more than a hum from his little sister as an answer.

It takes Beca a second to really clear her thoughts before she speaks up. “Just can’t wait for the wedding to be over.” She says with a sigh. “Just wanna be married already.” That was no lie. Once the wedding is over, she can be happy with Maddie. Maybe even manage to not see Chloe ever again.

Jesse grunts at his sisters' words. “You got a whole lifetime of that, sorellina (little sister).

Rolling her eyes, Beca mumbles a quick. “I know.”

“Enjoy your last night of liberty.” Jesse gently punches Beca on her should and tries to urge her to get up. “Come on!” Falling into an uncomfortable silence, seeing his sister really grind her thoughts together about the only person she has really loved, he takes a deep breath and frowns at the following words he says. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“About what?” Beca asks, not really feeling in the mood. Nor wanting to make her brother uncomfortable.

“Look,” Jesse starts, not wanting to give up just yet. “is this about Chloe?” He asks, even though he clearly knows the answer to that question. “I’ve got to ask…” He adds when Beca looks away with an eye roll. “… have you still got feelings for her?”

Beca scoffs at the insinuation. “No, that would be really stupid. No.” She says defensively.

Clearing his throat, Jesse asks: “Are you sure?” Needing to know. He doesn’t want to see Beca, nor Maddie, hell not even Chloe hurt by this entire ordeal. When Beca doesn’t immediately say anything, Jesse just stares at her until she looks back at him.

Finally, Beca manages to breathe out a gentle “Yeah.”

“Allora…” (So…), Jesse draws out, falling into a giggle when he sees Beca’s smile coming back slowly. “Can we duct-tape you to a pole now, please?”

Beca mentally facepalms herself when she remembers her predicament. Yet it was a tradition in the family. Whoever gets married, will get duct-taped or bound to a pole. She rolls her eyes and whispers “In a minute.” Jesse takes this as a win and heads back inside to get Benji and Mike.

A few blocks away, Chloe walks out of the club into the night. Her mind filled with all and nothing at the same time. Yet one thing, one name keeps bouncing around without ever leaving Beca.

The redhead walks further away from the entrance and hides behind a corner. Tears are threatening to spill from her eyes. She starts to remember all the moments between her and Beca, how they talked even without speaking. “Lay a whisper, on my pillow. Leave the winter, on the ground.” The words all pour out of her in a rush. Remembering how she felt when Beca wasn’t there. “I wake up lonely, the stare of silence, in the bedroom, all around.”

A bad habit she had picked up over the years, yet one that could always soothe her nerves. Talking to herself when she’s alone. Pretending to be speaking to the brunette that holds her heart. “Touch me now, I close my eyes. And dream away.”

She pushes herself off the wall and starts walking to who knows where not caring about anything at that moment. “It must have been love,” Chloe quietly admits to herself, not ever having voiced the thought after having left Puglia 3 years ago. They had told each other as much, but they were young. They didn’t know what the word meant at the time. “But it’s over now.” She says almost melancholically.

“It must have been good, but I lost it somehow.” Think about the words she’s saying, the redhead becomes more confident and starts to really understand her feelings. “It must have been love, but it’s over now. From the moment we touched, till the time it ran out.”

On the other side of the small town square, Beca is still sitting at the edge of the fountain. Her mind running a million miles an hour. Trying to sort out what she and Chloe are, or better were. “Make-believing, we’re together. That I’m sheltered by your heart.” The brunette feels cheated. Hardly processing the fact that Chloe never loved her. “But in and outside I turned to water, like a teardrop in your palm.”

The brunette’s heart feels heavy. She hasn’t wrapped her head around meeting Maddie. Proposing to her so soon after they met, even though it did feel right at the time. Losing the love of her life… NO, she has met the love of her life. Maddie is supposed to be the love of her life. “And it’s a hard winter’s day, I dream away.” Shaking her head, Beca gets up and decides to walk around for a bit. Feeling a need to stretch her legs.

Chloe sighs heavily and looks up to the moon as she walks towards the fountain where Beca had been just moments ago. “It must have been love, but it’s over now. It was all that I wanted, now I’m living without.”

Beca doesn’t notice the equally distraught Chloe as she walks away in the exposit direction. “It must have been love, but it’ over now. It’s where the water flows. It’s where the wind blows…” She doesn’t get too far, as Mike grabs her and throws her over his shoulder. Laughing the night away together with Benji and Jesse.

Chloe hears the laughter and sees the four. She quickly hides behind a wall and peeks to see what’s going on. They don’t seem to notice her, being too drunk and busy, trying to keep Beca on Mikey’s shoulder.

Having just seen the brunette, even from a distance. Chloe knows what she has to do, there is no way she could stay here. She had to go, as far away as possible. No time for goodbyes. No time for explanation, I’m sorry’s’ or feelings. With a steady pace Chloe walks further away from the party, from her sister and Beca Mitchel.

She makes it home around 30 minutes later after hailing a cab. She rushed to her room and quickly packs her suitcase. The only thing she leaves out is her bride’s maid dress. She leaves it on the bed, needing to really let go of her past that will become the future in a few hours time.

While packing her bag with her favourite book she brought over to read in her spare time, she finds an old picture of her and Beca being as happy as they ever had seemed to be. Sighing heavily, she shoves the picture together with the book in her bag and heads out to where the cab is still waiting for her, to take her to the airport.

In the car, she can’t help but look back at the picture that once used to bring her joy. She ponders about how she could talk to her sister about this later on. If her sister would ever talk to her again that is.

Finally deciding it’s time to fully let go, Chloe lets the old picture fly out of the moving cab as she sheds a single tear. Goodbye Beca. Goodby Puglia. Good luck Maddie.

#fanfiction #fanfic #bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #beca and chloe #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect 2 #pitch perfect 3 #walking on sunshine bechloe mini fic

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aroworlds · 5 years ago

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Fiction: The Pride Conspiracy, Part One

December isn't the best time of year for a trans aromantic like Rowan Ross, although—unlike his relatives—his co-workers probably won't give him gift cards to women's clothing shops. How does he explain to cis people that while golf balls don't trigger his dysphoria, he wants to be seen as more than a masculine stereotype? Nonetheless, he thinks he has this teeth-gritted endurance thing figured out: cissexism means he needn't fear his relatives asking him about dating, and he has the perfect idea for Melanie in the office gift exchange. He can survive gifts and kin, right? Isn't playing along with expectation better than enduring unexpected consequences?

Rowan, however, isn't the only aromantic in the office planning to surprise a co-worker.

To survive the onslaught of ribbon and cellophane, Rowan's going to have to get comfortable with embracing the unknown.

Contains: A trans allo-frayro trying to grit his teeth through the holidays, scheming aro co-workers, a whole lot of cross-stitch, another moment of aromantic discovery, and many, many mugs.

Content Advisory: A story that focuses on some of the ways Western gift-giving culture enables cissexism and a rigid gender binary, taking place in the context of commercialised, secular-but-with-very-Christian-underpinnings Christmas. Please expect many references to said holiday in an office where Damien hasn't figured out how to run a gift exchange without subjecting everyone to Santa, along with characters who have work to do in recognising that not everybody celebrates Christmas.

There are no depictions or mentions of sexual attraction beyond the words "allosexual" and "bisexual" and a passing reference to allo-aro antagonism, but there are non-detailed references to Rowan's previous experiences with and attitudes towards romance and romantic attraction as a frayromantic. Please also expect casual references to amatonormativity and other shapes of cissexism.

Length: 4, 914 words (part one of two).

Note: You'll need to have read The Vampire Conundrum for many references to make sense.

Rowan should be assumed an Australian character in an Australian city. Our Christmas, therefore, involves hot weather, short sleeves, barbecues and confusion at certain holiday traditions common in the Northern Hemisphere.

They’re aromantic. How isn’t he obligated to help decorate her desk in as many pride-related ways as possible?

“It’s Secret Santa slash December Holiday Gift Exchange!” Damien emerges from the meeting room, shaking a paper-scrap-filled jar with the gleeful attitude of a toddler attacking a pile of presents. In order to give the occasion suitable gravitas, he draped a rope of red tinsel over his shoulders, the fronds glittering in the flicker-prone lighting. “Come gather!”

Rowan looks up from his computer, biting back a groan. This isn’t a surprise, given that Shelby answered his interview questions about “workplace culture” with descriptions of their celebrating capitalist-infused Christian holidays, and the office more than lives up to that promise. A tree sits on the front counter, its branches crammed with baubles. Tinsel hangs on everything from which tinsel can be hung and rests in snake-like coils over the computer towers, screens, desk partitions and the large corkboard. Ribbon-wrapped pencils topped with felt trees, stars and stockings flowered, overnight, from everyone’s pen mugs; Melanie gave Rowan three of them for his frayro mug. Every desk features a red bowl of tree-shaped marshmallows, candy canes or that weird Christmas lolly mix common in dollar shops.

Only the lack of music renders bearable this explosion of festivity. Damien said he drew that line last year after Melanie and Shelby alternated between Michael Bublé and Josh Groban’s Christmas CDs.

Rowan doesn’t want to think about that sublime horror.

Christmas to him means slipping a few TSO tracks into his melodic metal playlists and gritting his teeth until the new year.

“O come all ye faithful,” Melanie sings, spinning her chair around. Every day this week she’s donned a different Christmas-themed T-shirt; today’s features a screen-printed Rudolph head with an apple-sized nose made from red minky fleece. Rowan doesn’t understand the American “ugly Christmas jumper” thing—why?—but Melanie appears to be replicating the trend via short sleeves and jersey knits.

Damien jerks his elbow at the largest whiteboard, half filled with the Banned Holiday Decorations List—items including “music, carols, hymns and singing”, “all types of fake snow” and “Cadbury Crème Eggs”. “Didn’t we talk about carols?”

Rowan doesn’t want to be accused of being a dreadful, fun-loathing millennial about which too many articles have been written on dislike of office gift exchanges … but he doesn’t know how not to be one, either. Why do people like this? Buying presents for people who aren’t strangers but aren’t friends, hoping that his attempt isn’t too generic only to open something tailored to feminine cliché ... followed by the apologetic explanation or justification that Rowan isn’t easy to shop for.

Can’t he save himself fifteen bucks and skip the disaster?

He’s never understood how he presents a difficulty that isn’t cissexism and a lack of imagination: buy him good thread, expensive coffee, dress socks, a nice mug, food storage containers or fancy kitchenware. He’ll even take a cheap box of chocolates, since his housemates will eat anything should they believe it food. Just get him something that isn’t a floral-patterned bath set followed by the hand-wringing apology that the giver just doesn’t know what to get someone as confusing as Rowan!

Why don’t they ask him what he wants?

He’s over spending money and time on gift exchanges only to receive cissexism, dysphoria or stereotype wrapped in paper and tied with a bow.

Rowan draws a breath and slips his fingers under his thighs. He should have sent Damien an email when Melanie started decorating, but Rowan was thinking about pushing their print date back two weeks and not thinking about Mum’s out-of-nowhere request that Rowan attend the family Christmas. “Uh … Damien? Can I … quick word?”

Why did he get himself a new psychologist? One who says terrible words like assertiveness?

“Give us a minute.” Tinsel rustling, Damien crouches beside Rowan’s chair. “Will here do?”

If everyone overhears, Rowan can pretend he’s talking to one person while knowing they all benefit from his explanation. Besides, going into the meeting room makes this a thing. “Yeah. Um. I … I don’t usually get the right presents from people in gift exchanges. By which I mean ... presents that aren’t a reminder that they think me female, and if they give me enough nail polish and heart-shaped jewellery and glittery handbags, I’ll admit it. I don’t want that? Really don’t want that?”

Why do his parents want to play at being a happy family? Does Mum want to show off to Uncle Keith and his new wife? Have they forgotten how badly last Christmas went? Or is this just more cissexist assumption that Rowan will discard his masculinity when needed? If they behave as though Rowan should fit their expectations, will he—eventually—surrender to them?

I’m not being difficult because I want my masculinity and transness respected. I’m not...

Melanie leans over to poke Shelby’s shoulder, her bright red lips forming a ring.

Damien blinks, hesitating as if he doesn’t know how best to respond. “That ... sounds like my niece’s favourite birthday. Although she took the bag, put one of my sister’s dumbbells inside and swung it at the boy over the road who wouldn't stop calling her pretty. And then made an army of neighbourhood girls wielding heavy unicorn bags.” He shakes his head. “I mean that … you obviously aren’t a certain kind of eight-year-old or into glitter, so...”

If only Rowan had the nerve to do that to Aunt Laura! “I bet he never did that again.”

“No. I’ll make sure … that the person who has you gets you something appropriate.”

Inappropriately-feminine gifts aren’t his only difficulty. Rowan doesn’t how to voice something so complex (to cis, gender-conforming people) about gender and gift-giving without sounding like he’s complaining for the sake of complaining—the demanding, difficult trans man of his parents’ accusations. Most often he endures a cis female celebrity’s latest perfume, but well-intended “accepting” people give him an Old Spice gift set—acknowledging his masculinity at the cost of his personality. How do cis people not chafe at gift-giving traditions that assume people can be reduced down to one of two categories with narrow behaviours and interests ascribed to each?

It’s easier to draw the line at gifts that only avoid being the embodiment of the giver’s cissexism and donate everything else, as much as Rowan yearns for one year with a good present he doesn’t buy himself.

Will cis people ever understand that being trans means holding back on responding to cis nonsense?

“Thanks. Yeah, thanks.”

“Secret Santa slash December Holiday Gift Exchange rules!” Damien straightens, shaking the jar; paper rattles against glass. “Twenty-dollar limit, keep it fun, don’t give anything inappropriate for a professional environment. I want to be eating mince pies, not taking people into the meeting room for discussions on adulthood. We exchange on the last day, December 20.” He reaches into the jar, the neck a tight fit for his hands, and tweezers out a folded piece of paper before handing it to Rowan.

Damien shakes the jar again before offering another slip to Melanie and then Shelby.

Don’t people draw names themselves from the bowl or jar? Nobody else seems concerned by this lapse—Melanie starts laughing when she sees her name—so Rowan shrugs and opens his, deciding it must be normal enough.

The Aro Gods must be inclined to a little seasonal kindness, for he sees “Melanie” written in Damien’s handwriting.

No need to struggle through generic alternatives like food or wine; pride pins will make her happy enough. A pen? A mini aro flag? Choosing may be Rowan’s worst problem, but he can get her a few things and give her whatever’s over the limit after the exchange.

They’re aromantic. How isn’t he obligated to help decorate her desk in as many pride-related ways as possible?

“Rowan!” Melanie bustles over; he quickly slides his paper up his sleeve. She makes metallic jangling noises—words like “ringing” or “pealing” don’t apply—as she moves, thanks to a gold chain bracelet decorated with small bells at each link. Matching earrings dangle from her ears, clinking out of tune with the ones at her wrist. “Can I ask you something?”

He nods, hoping she’ll let pass unremarked his description of holiday cissexism.

“Where did you buy your flag patches? I want one. Well, maybe more than one, because there’s the aro flag, and the ace flag, and maybe one of the aro-ace flags, but I haven’t decided which one I like best since there’s several that are nice, and...”

Once-in-a-lifetime inspiration hits Rowan with finger-twitching force. “I don’t know,” he lies once Melanie runs out of steam. “Uh … a friend gave them to me and ... I don’t know where they bought them. Online, probably?” He swallows and tries for distraction, gambling his poor ability for falsehood against Melanie’s likely ignorance. “Maybe look on Etsy? I’d look on Etsy.”

“Etsy? What’s that?”

“Handcraft eBay,” he says in relief, thinking through his thread stash. “Where people sell handmade things. I don’t know when I’m seeing my friend next, but I can ask...?”

He’ll need purples, greens, greys, black, white—oh, and blues! A little orange, a little yellow. Has he enough fabric? What about time? Should he do the main ones first and then others as he can squeeze them in?

On the way home tonight, he’ll start by stopping at his local sewing store.

***

Rowan hits “send” on an email to Damien, ignoring Mum’s latest text, as Shelby bounds up to his desk. Like Melanie, she’s added Christmas T-shirts to her daily ensemble; unlike Melanie, Shelby’s T-shirts appear to come from a department store’s children’s section. Today’s shirt shows a cute-but-scientifically-inaccurate dinosaur in a Santa hat holding a red box. Also unlike Melanie, Shelby hasn’t added earrings, pins, necklaces, bangles or socks in honour of the season. “Yeah?”

Damien added “battery and USB-powered light-up objects” to the List after an office vote provoked by a flashing necklace that resembled miniature string lights.

Shelby whispers, meaning that she speaks in a raspier tone with volume enough that her standing on the other side of a crowded football oval needn’t impede one’s hearing. In fairness, Rowan has heard her speak over a hundred gossiping Year 7 students until they surrendered to the stubbornness of an older woman who doesn’t go to bed caring what they think of her. “Can you go through all the … the identities? Can you show them to me and tell me what colours go with them? Do they all have their own colours?”

Rowan can only sit and gape.

“Please? I need someone to go through them all.”

He lunges for his half-filled mug, hoping his perpetual need for coffee conceals his surprise. “You mean pride flags? Queer pride flags?”

“Please.” Shelby nods, grips his arm and gives a meant-as-comforting nutcracker-like squeeze before lowering her hand to fidget with her phone—a device likely dug up with the fossils from the dinosaur on her shirt. It doesn’t have a cover; he guesses she covered the back with multiple layers of washi tape coated in (yellowing) clear nail polish. He doesn’t ask why. “Maybe you can start with the ones you use, and that one Melanie has, and then tell me the other ones? There aren’t that many, are there?”

Rowan, lukewarm coffee in his mouth and heading down his gullet, chokes.

Several moments of spluttering and coughing, aided by Shelby’s enthusiastic back-pounding, pass before he can answer. “Uh … there’s lots, actually. Lots.” He considers explaining about Tumblr before deciding on the appropriate answer: a thousand kinds of nope. “Do you want gender ones, or sexuality ones, or aromantic ones, or...?”

Shelby’s blank, brow-creased expression shows that, if she read Rowan’s leaflet, his emails and the hand-outs provided by Damien’s trainers, the knowledge hasn’t stuck with her.

(They weren’t better than Rowan’s own and only mentioned aromanticism as a way of being asexual.)

“The ones you and Melanie use...?” She lowers her voice to a point where someone may, in theory, be unable to hear her from the other side of the room. “I want to get Melanie a little extra … something, this year. With a flag, maybe?” She jerks her elbow in the direction of Melanie’s mug, currently filled with something smelling of camomile and dish-water. “But I should know more about the other ones, too. Like yours. Can you show them all to me?”

There’s no way in this tinselled hell that Melanie can’t hear Shelby, yet Melanie appears engrossed in deleting emails.

Last week, Rowan said “aromantic” once to their newest volunteer in a conversation about the pride flags on their website. Seconds later, Melanie materialised from the hallway, passed over one of Rowan’s leaflets and introduced herself as aro-ace before giving a five-point rundown on ways to avoid casual amatonormativity—not that she’s yet comfortable saying the word—in the workplace. There’s no way she’s contemplating the mysteries of her trash folder while Rowan talks to Shelby about aromantic pride flags! Breathing “aro” aloud is now akin to summoning a demon—one revelling in the discovery of the identity that makes belated sense of her life.

“You want me to show you aromantic flags?” Rowan asks to clarify, baffled.

Shelby beams at him. “Yes, please.”

Melanie, frowning, deletes an email.

Did Damien have a word with her? Did the volunteer complain?

Rowan can’t say that he wants to play tour guide through the world of queer vexillology, but Shelby has gone five weeks without saying the phrase “you trans people” and two months without reassuring Rowan on the subject of pronoun-correction. He also knows Melanie and Shelby are friends outside of work, bonding over stage shows and music. If Shelby wants to support Melanie in her aromanticism, how can Rowan refuse?

While Rowan sat there planning the politest way to navigate the glaring error in the trainers’ leaflets, Melanie stood up, exclaimed that aromanticism isn’t the same thing as asexuality and demanded that they do some reading before engaging in “obvious aro denial”. He owes her. She scares him a little, but he owes her.

(Should Rowan master the ability to handle conversations and presentations, he may consider becoming a sensitivity trainer. That two-day workshop, while decent enough on gender and sexuality, left him again concluding that most queer alloros have no idea how to reference and include aromanticism in their conversations about queerness.)

Another Mum-authored text flashes up on his phone, displaying the words “Christmas”, “clothing” and “appropriately”.

No, no and hell no.

“Yeah, okay.” He bends down to grab his satchel, tucked against the left-hand side of his desk. A decent collection of patches and badges now covers the front flap, including his cursed-but-memorable “aro” patch. “That’s the trans pride flag, with the blue, pink and white, and beside it is the bisexual flag. The flag with the greens and black is the aromantic flag, and the allo-aro flag has the greens and gold. It’s pretty much the same as the aro flag, except with yellow and gold instead of grey and black.” He points at each patch as he moves through his explanation. “Allo—allosexual—aromantics are aros who experience sexual attraction.”

He’ll stick to simple definitions with Shelby, even if they lack ideal expansiveness.

Shelby nods, smiling.

“For me, it means I’m aromantic and bisexual. Aro-aces, like Melanie, are aromantic and asexual, meaning she doesn’t experience sexual attraction.” He almost asks her if she remembers what “aromanticism” means before realising that he’ll sound like a condescending primary-school teacher. “This flag with the blues, white and grey is the frayromantic flag, which designates the specific way I’m aro. The flag on Melanie’s mug—”

Shelby leans against his desk, her grey braid trailing over one arm. “So you have an aromantic flag and an allosexual aromantic flag? A special aromantic flag?”

Are they heading towards the sort of conversation that involves anger over “making up” identities outside the speaker’s reckoning of acceptable? Or does she mean “distinct”? “Ah … kind of? The green and black flag represents all aros—Melanie and me. The green and gold one’s just for me, and I don’t use her blue and orange one.”

For the first time in living memory, Melanie pays Rowan and Shelby no attention.

“I see! You want to reflect different types of aro.” Shelby almost says the word without unusual stress; Rowan considers applauding her but decides he won’t risk undermining his point on avoiding excessive overreaction to queer terminology. “Do you ever put the flags together? Like if you want to be both things at once?”

When isn’t he the state of multiple identities at once? Rowan decides she means “represent” instead of “be” and nods. “Yeah? Some people put a heart with the stripes of the aro flag in the middle of the trans or bi flags, but I don’t like that because using a heart to represent us all is a bit … eh. You know, heart, love, love hearts? Lots of people don’t care, though. I’ve also seen folks split them in an image, or have the stripes fade into each other. Like trans stripes fading into aro stripes.”

“And you like that better?” Shelby blinks, her blunt nails tracing the edge of the case. “Would Melanie like that? The aromantic flag fading into another one?”

There’s no way Melanie didn’t hear that—and no reason for her to say silent! Last month she told Rowan and Shelby to get mint chocolate cake for her birthday after walking in on them debating sponge versus cheesecake in the meeting room!

(Sponge, in Rowan’s opinion, is the classic cake format.)

“Yeah. It shows my identities together without using symbolism I find awkward.” Rowan lowers his voice, leaning closer to Shelby. “Melanie will probably go for the aromantic flag fading into or combined with the asexual flag, if you’re doing something with two flags. I don’t think she’d be into hearts, but a split image or fading? That’d work.”

Shelby straightens, beaming, and gives Rowan another firm arm-squeeze. “That’s great! Thank you so much for helping, Rowan!”

“Don’t you want to know more about aro-ace flags...?”

“No, that’s great!” Shelby, heading towards her own desk, no longer attempts to speak at anything not normal volume. “Aromantic into asexual! I’ll remember that!”

As Shelby turns, he catches a glimpse of the cracked screen on her phone—or, more specifically, the movement of her hand as she presses stop on her recording app.

Is that legal? It surely isn’t normal? Or is she an auditory learner, meaning she’ll learn best by playing the recording over … but in that case, why not say so? He could have directed her to YouTube videos and podcasts! Perhaps, though, she only shows her ignorance in digital etiquette, in the same way Rowan took Melanie aside to explain that the use of caps lock for the body of a promotional email violates good manners as much as—more than!—she thinks signing a form in red ballpoint? Should he complain about something suggestive of her willingness to understand him?

Rowan stares, shrugs and shakes his head as a third text pops up.

Sometimes it’s easier to just not ask.

Too bad that can’t apply as easily to family.

***

Rowan stands, yawns and stretches. His lunch half-hour beckons: sunshine spent with food, cross-stitch and a flock of pigeons tame enough to perch on the far end of his bench. Since today involved apologetic emails followed by a contrite phone call to his goddess amongst printers, time free of people feels like looming perfection. Just him, the pigeons, a sewing needle and the homemade pasty he hid from Matt inside a bag of frozen peas.

Any day in which he gets to enjoy his own cooking can’t be too terrible.

Perhaps he should do as his psychologist says: put a chest freezer in his bedroom and a lock on his door.

“Rowan!” Damien, his hair tousled enough to make Rowan think of a woolly mammoth in a sharp suit, carries a plate of something smelling like honey and chicken into the office. “While Melanie’s out, can you show me your mug shop? You said there’s a lot of aro-ace flags, right? Or would she want one like yours, the green one? I don’t get her something like your blue and green shield one, though?” He shrugs and sets the plate down on Rowan’s desk. “My wife’s friends with her sister and we got invited out, but there’s another swap. I don’t want to get her the wrong thing. Do you mind?”

At least Damien does the sensible thing of asking while Melanie’s out on lunch. Maybe this won’t take too long: Damien’s a terrible photographer with unreasonable expectations of Photoshop, but he does know how to buy things online.

“Yeah. Hold on.” Rowan opens up his browser just as his phone beeps. Nope, ignoring that. “I’ll show you what mugs I think she’d want.”

He hadn’t realised how many people here are friends with Melanie outside of work. It must be nice to have a regular social life that isn’t “being at work” and “sighing at housemates”, but there’s advantages in possessing the short holiday shopping list of family, a work gift exchange and a couple of friends. Besides, does anyone want one’s co-workers to know what happens at an outside party?

“Don’t ignore your phone because of me.”

“It’s Dad.” Since Rowan can’t find a pithy or amusing way to explain that Dad’s text message will be a guilt-trip ordering Rowan to come to Christmas for the sake of the family’s happiness followed by a second guilt-trip explaining how much his refusal to confirm has upset Mum, he just shakes his head.

You talked about this with the psychologist. Guilt. Trip.

He made an appointment for the second week of January; he should have made one in December as well.

“That bad?”

He can’t remember the specifics of his rant that day atop the desk, but he must have suggested at an interesting relationship with his parents. “Yeah.”

Did they forget telling Rowan that if he doesn’t like how they treat him, he can leave? They told Rowan that he isn’t welcome while he remains intolerant of them—while I expect them to treat me as I deserve. He left. Now they want him back to smile for the family photos?

What’s worse? Enduring a day of misgendering, deadnaming and cissexism, which shouldn’t result in unknown voyages of horror if he bites his tongue? Or avoiding short-term discomfort while gaining the long-term torment of the family’s schooling Rowan in appropriate Ross respect for blood and holidays? What chance is there of avoiding harassment if he doesn’t go?

Maybe he can leave off shaving for a week before Christmas and turn up with his new, albeit patchy, facial hair while wearing an op-shop debutante gown, so he “dresses appropriately” and “doesn’t confuse the relatives” as requested.

How many truckloads of Valium will he need for that?

“Rowan? Are you okay?” Damien, now sitting on an office chair, peers at him as though waiting for Rowan to do anything more than stare at the computer screen.

“Ugh. Sorry. Just thinking.” Rowan sighs and types in the shop’s name, bringing up their website, and then opens a second tab to another archiving different pride flags.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Damien asks in that gruffly-gentle voice, one that makes Rowan want to smash his fist through a window.

“Yeah, no.” Rowan draws a breath and points at the screen with a hand a too trembly for his liking. “So you’re going to want to know what flags represent what, because there’s a drop-down menu where you can choose from different flags...”

It’s easier to talk, easier to run through all the different flags in a depth of explanation Damien doesn’t request, easier to think about something that isn’t family—a subject with complexity enough to distract but without provocation enough to distress.

He doesn’t know if Damien asks questions from curiosity or kindness, but Rowan’s pasty becomes pastry crumbs scattered over his desk and keyboard; Damien’s chicken, half-eaten, sits cooling on its plate.

“So cupioromantic is the one where you want the relationship but you don’t feel romance?” Damien frowns and runs both oversized hands through his hair, now resembling a befuddled bear emerging after a long hibernation. “Why have a word for that? I mean, everyone feels like it isn’t one of those movies and dates anyway, so why specify that?”

“Where you don’t feel romantic attraction but desire a romantic relationship,” Rowan says, telling himself that Damien unknowingly regurgitates the tired “demiromanticism is normal” argument. Isn’t this better than looking at the fifth text message? “Some people need it to be a word. Movies aren’t that divorced from reality. They’re … too easy, too glossy, too perfect, too unrealistic, but...”

He sighs. Not dating brings many benefits, but Rowan has to admit that he misses the fun of falling in love, even if trouble always follows. Misses the fun of dreaming, hoping and fantasising; misses the bright, happy glow of being caught up in someone else. At risk of being considered a bad aro, he likes that glorious limerence pushing him to navigate people despite his gibbering anxiety! In some ways, knowing he’s capable of falling in love over and over feels heady and powerful; amatonormativity more than the nature of Rowan’s frayromanticism bestows difficulty on its aftermath.

I want to fall in love with you ... and after getting to know you, do it again with someone else, all the best bits of romance’s beginning on eternal repeat.

Instead, he avoids dating and the inevitable development of his partner’s hurt, surrendering to a world where his shape of attraction isn’t acceptable or reasonable. Albeit with a trace of bitterness that frayromanticism will be easier to navigate should Rowan not be an anxiety-plagued, bisexual trans man!

Of course, discarding romance makes pursuing his shape of sexual attraction unacceptable and unreasonable...

“How are they real? Nobody just sees someone and falls in love like that—”

“Dude, dude, I’ve fallen in love like that.” Rowan shakes his head and launches into the speech that’s the spiritual duty of any card-carrying aromantic: “Do you fall in love after you get to know someone? After they love you back? Do you know what ‘fall in love’ means to you? Because it’s easy to name all sorts of feelings ‘love’ and think they’re romantic when the world says you have to be alloromantic. It’s even easier to not be romantically attracted and not know! Have you thought about it?”

Damien, his eyes so wide that he reminds Rowan of a zebrafish with a brown wig, shakes his head.

“I swear, alloros like romance movies because while they’re a … a simplified, idealistic version of romance, they’re close enough to what people feel—or think they’re supposed to feel—that they … ring, resonate. They wouldn’t do that if it were complete invention. Just like science fiction isn’t real but talks enough about human experiences to have meaning to human audiences. Unreal, in so many ways, but just real enough. So—”

Damien holds up both hands, palms facing Rowan. “Stop. Stop.”

Now the anxious part of Rowan’s brain realises he’s lecturing at his supervisor in a way no need to avoid thinking of his family justifies; he gulps, fingers trembling. While the office code of conduct doesn’t specify things like unwanted speeches questioning another person’s belief in their romantic attraction, he doubts this acceptable behaviour. “I … shit. I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I just...”

Will he ever stop causing a mess at work?

“You’re talking so fast,” Damien says, slow and careful in the way of a man talking to a panicked horse, “that I can’t keep up.” He sighs and runs one hand through his hair. “This isn’t something I thought we’d be talking about! I just wanted to check that everything was right...” He shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound annoyed or outraged. Just bewildered. “Okay. Right. What about all those sorts of things that we think are love? What do you mean by that?”

At some point during the resulting afternoon, Rowan sends an email thanking his printer for her willingness to amend the job queue, ignores his brother’s entry in the competition to provoke the most seasonally-appropriate guilt, and scribbles a note to ask the higher-ups if they’ll spring for a basket of expensive coffee and chocolates sent to said printer.

Damien nods several times, takes dot points on a flyer print-out and the back of the report draft for last week’s holiday event, asks more questions and promises that he’ll remind the higher-ups of their involvement in submitting January’s flyers two weeks late. After eating the rest of his re-heated honey chicken at Rowan’s desk and narrating the story of how his future wife followed him from pub to pub during a crawl for his brother’s buck’s night, Damien concludes that he only experiences attraction for someone after they express attraction for him.

Melanie, having rested her arms on the back of Damien’s chair to overhear the last half of the conversation, gives him a smothering hug and welcomes him to “the quiver” before cackling at Damien’s blank look.

Find a recipro mug, Rowan later scribbles on the bottom of his to-do-list.

At least that job doesn’t involve relatives.

51 notes · View notes

wowweeharrystyles · 5 years ago

Text

mixtapes & memories

Love Is A Mixtape by Rob Sheffield definitely had its impact on me & inspired me to write this piece. This is one of my favourite playlists, so I decided to write around it.

Harry x Y/N | 5.2K words

(Italicized bits are flashback memories)

Here’s a link to the playlist, too !!! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1kPsDksn0oQcF9uOLIioUH?si=nGKLi3FBREyrcR5iAc9UbQ

It’s nights like these you look back on. Nights like these that you’ll remember forever. Nights like these are the ones you hope everyone you love gets to experience with the one they love.

Dreams - Fleetwood Mac

A giggle bubbles in your throat as Harry presses a kiss to the soft skin under your ear. Harry nonchalantly pulls away as if he wasn’t intending on making a mark on your skin when he sees his car being pulled up by the valet. His arm leaves your waist as he pulls out a few bills to hand to the valet. Verbally thanking the young man, you walk towards the car and see Harry now waiting with the passenger door open for you. Shining him a bright smile you step down into the low riding Ford Capri. Before closing your door Harry helps you move some of the fabric of your skirt into your seat with you as to not close it in the door. He shakes his head with a smile before walking round to get into the driver's side.

“What’re you shaking your head for?” you ask through a chuckle.

“Just look beautiful tonight, sometimes can’t believe I get to spend my time with you,” he says as he shuts the door and shifts into drive.

You groan his name in faked annoyance. You really don’t have anything coherent to respond with but he knows the feelings go both ways.

There’s a moment of silence while the cd that is in the stereo changes to the next song. You both still quite like the idea of mix tapes and prefer the sound of the 1970 stereo, (only having updated it by adding a CD player rather than an aux cord). Your favourite mixtape being the one in the player now. There’s a wide selection on this disk and in your handwriting, the title “feels like home” is scribble in sharpie on the top of the silvery-gold CD.

There’s a wide variety of songs on this CD, some of your favourites, some of Harry’s, songs that you grew up listening to, it’s got it all. As you 2 got to know each other in the beginning you both discovered that music played a big part in how you were raised and grew up.

Just about every single Saturday growing up, you were woken up by your parents blasting their music collection throughout the house. Dad would play Phil Collins or Fleetwood Mac and Mom would blast Paul Simon, Michael Jackson or Donny Osmonds and once in a while Shania Twain’s Greatest Hits. On the morning of your oldest sisters wedding she played “Going To The Chapel” at full volume, on repeat, to wake everyone up.

Every Saturday, without a doubt, she would go one by one into everyone’s room and dance around and sing to whatever was playing downstairs. It wasn’t always your favourite way to be woken up but looking back on it, you miss it from time to time.

Sometimes Harry will try to recreate these Saturday mornings - with a fresh cup of coffee in hand - dancing around in his boxers, his latest favourite blasting through the apartment. It only makes his regal flat feel more like home and makes up for the time apart.

Harry’s mother, Anne, had raised Harry with similar music taste. The 2 of you liked to compare first experiences with Fleetwood Mac and stories passed down by both of your parents. Your dad repeatedly recalls taking his baby blue Ford van down to Florida for spring break the year Rumours was released, blasting the album on the hot, packed beaches throughout the coast of Florida. Harry recalls Anne singing along to Landslide and Dreams as they drove around Cheshire. Dreams was the first song he learned all the words to.

The opening drums of ‘Dreams’ vibrates through the speakers of the car as Harry starts to drive away. He starts to sing along right away. You know he doesn’t realise that he always does this and it makes you smile everytime you hear his smooth voice

I’ll Be There For You - The Rembrandts

Neither of you can bare to miss the claps at the beginning so when Harry can’t get his hands off the wheel to clap along, you restart the track. Both of you break out in a fit of laughter at the ridiculous habit and continue singing as loud as you can, dance moves included (at least what you could manage while buckled into your seats). Harry’s signature “rain starts to fall” hands always make you roll your eyes before tossing your head back and laugh even more while still trying to sing along.

Honestly, neither of you have been able to keep track of how many times you’ve rewatched F.R.I.E.N.D.S. on your own, nonetheless together. (It’s a lot and you’ll both just leave it at that.) Harry had suggested that you 2 should start watching it from the beginning together when you two ordered takeout one night in the first month of knowing each other. That night repeated over and over again, neither of you caring to go out on fancy dates so much, only wanting to spend time together.

You had just finished season 6 the night before Harry had to jet off to Japan or New York or Italy (honestly, you can barely keep track). While facetiming one night while he was gone you caught a glimpse of his tv screen in his hotel room.

“Harry?” you questioned.

“Yes, love?”

“Are you watching FRIENDS without me?”

“Uhhh…” he stutters out, looking back at the TV that was playing without sound. “I can explain!” he rushed out. You faked an annoyed look (even though you were actually kind of annoyed by it). “Listen, babe, love, sweetheart, I was bored and missing you… I thought i’d just watch one episode…”

“One?!?! Looks like you’ve definitely watched more than one!”

“I’m sorry, love!”

“Fine, well that means I have to catch up, then. What episode are you on?”

“Uhm, I think episode 4,” he whispers.

“4?!?! Harry!!”

“I’m so sorry!!! Like I said, I was bored and missed you. Always reminds me of you.”

“Oh come on, be a normal boy and have a wank if you miss me.”

He shouts your name in surprise. “Oh my god.” His cheeks start to turn a light pink shade.

“Oh, stop blushing. You’re acting like a child. Be a man, have a wank or call me, don’t watch FRIENDS.”

After a short moment of silence you both meet eyes and burst into a fit of laughter.

That specific conversation gets brought up every time Harry has to leave, a little inside joke. Between “I’ll Be There For You” and the next track Harry suggests that you 2 should start rewatching FRIENDS again.

“That’ll be like the 5th time,” you comment. “Think this time you’ll be able to make it through the entire show without watching an episode without me?”

“I can’t make any promises,” he confirms with a giggle.

Still Crazy After All These Years - Paul Simon

There’s a handful of Paul Simon on this mixtape. You have your mother to thank for that. After dinner each night your mom would put on a Paul Simon album while you did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen as a family. To this day you’ll opt for Paul Simon’s Greatest Hits while you clean yours and Harry’s home. He knows this music makes you feel like you’re back home with your family and can nick away at the homesick feeling you get once in a while. There’s something about the classics - “Still Crazy After All These Years”, “Diamonds on the Soles of Your Shoes” “Kodachrome” - that make your heart light and bring a smile to your face.

During one trying week, Harry had used the Greatest Hits Album to settle you down. Work had been awful, one thing after the other, day after day, nothing went right and you were at the end of your limits. To add to the that Harry had been traveling back and forth for the better part of 3 weeks. A text from your parents asking how you were and when you would be visiting next had been the last straw.

Harry came home mid day on a Saturday and on his way into the house he dropped his belongings in a trail from the front door to the bedroom. That morning, you had decided to try to turn your mood around, knowing Harry would be home soon, you went out to a yoga class and picked up groceries to make Harry’s favourite meal. When you got home after him, you proceeded to trip over each of his belongings on the way to the kitchen. You were cursing loud enough that it woke him up. He came downstairs in a pair of workout shorts and a messy head of hair.

“Baby!” He exclaims when he sees you putting away the food. When he tries to give you a hug and kiss you shrug him off.

“You left everything all over. I tripped on every single fucking bag on my way in. I get that your tired and traveling sucks but at least fucking put it all in one spot.”

“Woah, I’m sorry,” he says, taken aback. Nothing from their conversations earlier this week or even this morning had lead him onto the mood you’re in now.

“Don’t even,” you say with a bit of a bite to it.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asks with equal bite. You whisper a ‘nothing’ and continue what you’re doing. “It’s not nothing if you’re this upset”

“Just leave me alone, Harry.”

“I haven’t seen you in days!!! I’m not just leaving you alone. I fucking missed you and I have no idea why you’re acting like this.”

“It’s not my fault that you haven’t seen me. I’ve been here this entire time. Not all of us get to jet off to be an international rockstar and do no wrong. I got ripped apart this week at work. Everything I did was wrong, I fucked up, you don’t know what that’s like.” you take a deep breath, tears building in your eyes. “and now my parents are nagging me about coming home to visit and I can’t take any more time off work cause I’ve used it all to come see you on tour.” When you wipe the tears from your eyes you see the look on Harry’s face and your heart drops into your stomach. You’ve never spoken to him like this and you never meant for anything to come out like this. “I’m sorry,” you yell even though you don’t mean to, “I just miss home and I’ve been so lonely without you here and I don’t know, it all just came out.” He doesn’t respond and now you’re embarrassed and beyond upset about all of it. You whisper an apology as you turn and leave the kitchen.

Everything hurt as you fell to the bed. You groan a little in annoyance when you immediately smell Harry’s cologne on the bed, fresher than it’s been in weeks. Tears fell to the pillow for what felt like ages. You didn’t know what you wanted to happen next. Did you want him to come find you and try to say something to make everything better somehow? Were you hoping you would muster up the courage to put yourself back together and go downstairs begging for him to forgive you? You really had no idea. It was a while later when you could start making out sounds from the 1st floor. It wasn’t until the music got louder that you paid more attention.

One room of speakers at a time (he can be such a cheeky fucker sometimes) the music eventually reached your bedroom where you were still laying face down on the bed. ‘Still Crazy After All These Years’ echoed through the entire house now. While wiping your face with a cool cloth as you realised what he was doing. You quietly made your way back down the stairs and peaked into the kitchen where Harry was busy cutting up some veggies on the large island. When you come into view, Harry puts down the knife and wipes his hands off on the cloth that is hanging off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I really didn’t mean what I said. It all came out wrong.”

“Shhhh,” Harry shushes you as he brings you in for a hug. “You’re right, I don’t know what it’s like at your job and I haven’t even bothered to ask.” He says after pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Being homesick doesn’t help when you’re stressed, either. And it really doesn’t help when I’m gone either.”

“I’m still sorry. I should’ve never said any of that. I yelled at you. You just got home. I’m so sorry.” Harry kisses your forehead. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even believe what I said.”

“Its okay, baby. I accept your apology. We’re good, okay?” You nod and he kisses your forehead again. “Thought some Paul Simon might calm you down.” you nod again, a small smile playing on your lips. “And I’ve looked at the calendar, no need to take work off, we’ll go back home to visit your parents in a few weeks. Leave Friday Night come back Monday morning. I wouldn’t mind some time away from work and the city either.”

Paul Smon continues to play and you give Harry a big hug, burying your head into his chest. You really can’t believe how you got so lucky. You spend the rest of the night making dinner together, dancing around and singing to the Greatest Hits Album that’s playing through the entire house. Later that night Harry brings a bottle of wine and 2 glasses to the living room where the 2 of you sit on the ground in a pile of blankets and pillows and you share every single detail of what happened at work.

When you’re back at your childhood home a few weeks later, you and Harry are in the kitchen with your parents, Paul Simon playing and cleaning up after dinner.

The start of the memory may not be the best you and Harry but it ends on a good one and there are plenty more that outshine it. Paul Simon can fix a lot you figure. Makes you feel like you’re home wherever you are.

Don’t Wait - Mapei

“Can we get fries and milkshakes?” you ask with a bright smile on your face, lashes fluttering in attempt to persuade him. You know he won’t say no, regardless. You both know that once one of you mentions fries and milkshakes that it’ll be a long night of driving around town, city lights casting the perfect backdrop.

About 8 months into your relationship you had called Harry randomly one night. You had just seen him hours ago at lunch but he had a night full of meetings about whatever project he was working on currently and you both knew it was going to be a long night so you had retired back to your place for the night. You were surprised when he answered, the background on his end also surprisingly quiet.

“I’m craving fries and a milkshake,” you had stated, receiving a chuckle from Harry on the other line.

“I’ll pick you up in 15 minutes.”

“What?” you said unbelieving.

“Just got home, getting out of this dang suit. I’ll be there in 15.” You were silent on your end. “You want fries and a milkshake, yeah?” you hum a yes. “Okay great. I’m in love with you and I want to see you. We’re getting fries and milkshakes.” You huff in disbelief. Even if you did have some sort of response you don’t know if you could get it out (still a common occurrence to this day).“Love, still there?”

“Uh yeah,” you say through an obvious smile.

“Great. Leaving now.”

When you get into Harry’s car he greets you with a kiss and then a toothy grin, dimples on full display. He looks cozy and relaxed in his threadbare tshirt and yellow adidas track pants, you can’t see his feet but you know, without a doubt, he’s wearing his white vans.

Once you’ve got your fries and milkshakes, one vanilla and one chocolate so you can share, Harry picks up his phone and presses play on a new song. You hadn’t heard the song before, but as it progresses it adds to your already light, happy mood. With the cool breeze flowing through your hair with the windows down as Harry takes you both on a drive you can’t help but lean over and place a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes wrinkle on the outside corners.

“Fry?” he asks just like how he asks ‘kiss?’ time and time again. His voice is just loud enough to hear over the music, and you quickly oblige his request as if he were to reach for a fry himself his free hand that isn’t attached to the steering wheel would have to leave it’s warm, comforting spot on your thigh.

As Harry pulls away from the drive-thru, a bag of fresh fries in your lap and 2 milkshakes in the cupholders, you skip through a few tracks before you find “Don’t Wait” by Mapei. The intro of the track instantly makes Harry smile and he reaches to turn up the volume. When you turn to feed him a fry you giggle at the sight of his huge smile, gums on show and eyes crinkled at the side.

A friend indeed, come build me up

Come shed your light, it makes me shine

You get the message, don't you ever forget it

Let's laugh and cry until we die

If it wasn't for you I'd be alone

If it wasn't for you I'd be on my own

Some things never change.

Make You Feel My Love - Adele

You’re thankful for the frozen milkshake and you allow it to cool you down as the hot LA breeze blows through your hair. You still don’t know your way around LA very well but you recognize the direction Harry is taking. There’s a small lookout point on the hills where you know you’ll end up in the next 10 minutes.

Taking the milkshakes and bag a fries with you, you both step out of the car after Harry has parked in the perfect spot at said lookout point. You’re the only 2 out here, it’s probably passed midnight by now. He’s left the car on enough just to keep the mixtape playing.

“Sometimes I wish we could’ve grown up together,” you say out of the blue while flipping through your old yearbook. You’re trying to find an old group photo with your High School group of friends. With a friends wedding coming up you’re trying to find all the best photos for part of her gift.

“What makes you say that?” Harry asks from the couch above you. “We get to grow old together instead.”

“It’s just, looking through all these old photos, I can’t help but wonder what it would have been like to have experienced High School together. Imagine football games on Friday nights, or going to the christmas dance!” you exclaim. “Oh! I bet you would have been really creative with asking me to the Prom.” When you notice the confused look on his face you remember that 1. British schools were much different and 2. He didn’t do the whole high school experience regardless of the country. “Well I guess you don’t ever have those thoughts cause you never experienced those things in the first place.” You laugh to yourself. “I still wonder what it would have been like.”

“I think 17 year old me would have been scared shitless to ask you to prom, nonetheless to pick you up that night and have your dad answer the door.”

“Oh my dad loves you and you know that.”

“Hah, he didn’t right away! Imagine if he met me when I was a teenager! I would not be sitting here right now.”

“You’ve got a point, I guess.” You go back to flipping through the yearbook in front of you, once in a while showing Harry a photo.

“I’m gonna go grab a glass of water, need anything?” You shake your head no and thank him before he leaves the room.

When Harry comes back to the living room he’s without a glass of water but has gained a black suit jacket on top of his t shirt and sweatpants. You look at him, confused.

“Harry, what are you doing?” He doesn’t respond, instead you start to hear music playing through the speakers. Pulling his hand from behind his back he presents you a flower, a rose from the vase in your bedroom. You laugh, still confused, but accept the rose anyways.

“Would you dance with me?” He asks offering his hand to you. You take it and let him help you up off the floor.

Harry wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him and you slide your arms around his neck letting your hands dangle at the back.

“You’re unbelievable,” you say quietly.

“I know this isn’t anything like your Prom, but a slow dance is a slow dance yeah?” A small smile forms on your lips before you press them to his. You let your fingers play with the curls at his neck. Resting your head on his chest you let him control the dancing, swaying around in circles. He’s humming along to the song and there’s something about Adele that is so quintessentially high school. You close your eyes and let yourself pretend that you’re back in high school. When the song ends you lift your head up and thank him with another kiss.

Later that night you take back your earlier statement. It’s when you’re sitting at the dining table with a hot meal presented in front of you that Harry made himself that you realise that you would rather be here now how the 2 of you are instead of having grown up together. You agree that growing old together sounds like the best thing in the world.

“Doesn’t matter the time or place, I’ll love you always,” you say, “but I like this time, I like right now.”

When “Make You Feel My Love” starts to play, Harry sets down his shake and takes yours as well to set down with his on the hood of the car.

“Can I have this dance?” He asks. It’s almost like he planned the timing. You sway with each other for a moment before you’re both so wrapped up in each others arms and the kisses become deeper that the dancing stops and you just basque in the presence of each other and this moment. The cool wind continues to blow through your hair and it only gives the 2 of you an excuse to pull each other closer to one another. After the song ends and the mixtape continues, Harry wraps his arms around your shoulders, now having his front to your back, he pulls you back with him as he leans against the hood of the car. He rests his lips near your ear, placing kisses along your ear, jaw and neck as you both take in the view in front of you.

“I like right now,” he whispers your words back to you from months ago.

I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers

This song had a handful of memories linked to it. Hundreds upon hundreds are with your childhood best friend and one specific one with Harry. Right now, you’re both singing at the top of your lungs without worrying how either of you sound. You were both shivering a little after staying at the lookout for too long. Now you’re trying to warm up a bit and singing along at full volume seems to be helping.

Harry had come home to a silent house one night, eventually finding you puffy-eyed with tear streaked cheeks curled up on the couch in the dark. Noting your phone thrown across the room, he approached you cautiously.

“Love?” he almost whispered, not to startle you. “Love, what’s going on?” He questions when he meets your face. Sitting down on the floor in front of you he wipes your cheeks before questioning you again. “Gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can help ya.”

“Did you see the article?” you stutter out. You know he doesn’t go lurking around the internet so you can’t be angry about him being clueless to why you’re upset. He shakes his head eventually before he slowly grabs his phone.

The first article that comes up when he searches his name makes him curse under his breath. Someone’s hacked your private social media accounts and photos of you growing up, family information and anything and everything is all over the tabloid sites. You knew this was part of the territory, dating a musician, model, actor, all of it, but this was much worse than some papz photos with Harry out for coffee or post yoga.

Harry does his best to calm you down, holding you against his chest, apologizing up and down for putting you in situations like these. At some point a little while later, you’ve relaxed and decide make a joke in hopes to make yourself and Harry, a little bit better.

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty, otherwise it wouldn’t be worth it.” A look of fake offence washes over his face. “Love you,” you add before kissing him lightly.

“Come on,” Harry says pulling you up off the couch. He turns the house speakers on and presses play on his phone. “I Wanna Get Better” starts blasting through the house and you can’t help but smile. Your best friend and you would always blast this when one of you were having a bad day. It never fails to make you smile and forget whatever was bothering you. This song automatically forces a wide smile across your face and with how swollen your eyes are from crying, you can barely make out the image of Harry dancing around in front of you. The rule is you have to play the song on repeat until you can’t remember what had hurt you in the first place. It’s takes a few rounds of the track and a handful of kisses from Harry to get you to forget why he started playing the song.

“A little better?” he asks when the 4th play comes to an end. You nod with a smile before pulling him for a kiss.

“Much better.”

Though this song is always played during bad times, it’s nice to hear it during happy ones. It reminds you of times with your best friend from home and it reminds you of Harry’s kindness, how he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, make you feel loved and be 110% sure that you’re happy.

Fallingforyou - The 1975 and Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

You slipped ‘Fallingforyou’ by The 1975 on shuffle when the 2 of you took your first road trip together. Driving from Harry’s place in LA to a getaway in San Francisco for a few days, you had opted to drive instead of fly (more time just the 2 of you). The conversation died down for a moment, both of you engulfed by the epic scenery in front of you. You had control of the music for the most part, Harry making requests once and awhile, but it had been forgotten while the two of you had debated which was the best romcom ever made for the better part of an hour. So when you both agreed that having different favourites was okay, the silence was welcomed, small smiles on both of your faces. That’s when a feeling of absolute contentment washed over you. You knew exactly what song was needed for the moment.

Your relationship wasn’t that new, but it wasn’t as official as it is now. You hadn’t said ‘I love you’ yet, but you both knew the thought was there (you hoped he’d say it sometime during this trip and if he didn’t you definitely would).

You always loved this song. You remember hearing it live for the 1st time when you saw The 1975 on a whim during your first year of university. You cried. You couldn’t really help it. Though you’ve never related to the lyrics exactly in the way they’re meant to, they still hit you. Right now, this relationship isn’t one sided, you know that but, I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you, hits you harder than it did when you heard it live.

Harry’s got his wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel, the other resting in his lap. His curls are a bit unruly from the wind that has been blowing through them, his skin has a soft tan to it. You can’t help the smile that crosses your face. Harry must see your smile from the corner of his vision because he takes a quick glance at you and returns the grin, crinkles appearing around his eyes. The hand that was resting in his lap searches yours out and you happily accept the gesture.

On this night, and in this light,

I think I’m falling, I’m falling for you.

Tangling your fingers with his, you bring them up to your mouth and press a soft kiss to the back of Harry’s hand. You hold his hand with both of yours in your lap now. The wind blows through your hair and you sing along to the words quietly and it’s not till the end of the song that you realise that Harry had been singing along as well.

It’s when Harry’s driving you back to your hotel after dinner that night in San Francisco, ‘Chasing Cars’ by Snow Patrol playing quietly in the background, that he says “I love you.”

‘Fallingforyou’ transitions into ‘Chasing Cars’ and Harry pats the open space between the 2 of you in the front seat. The traffic light in front of you turns red and you take the opportunity to slide from your side of the car to the side of Harry’s torso, his arm wrapping around your shoulder immediately. Rebuckling yourself into the middle seat, he presses a kiss to your hair and whispers “I love you” repeatedly until the light turns green.

~~~

As the speakers quiet, the track list coming to an end, Harry turns to you and locks eyes before speaking.

“Should we play it again?” He asks. Without missing a beat you press play on the stereo. Neither of you have any obligations in the morning. A late night of driving would most definitely turn into sleeping in the next morning, then spending the day reading in bed and watching silly romcoms. Driving all night sounded like the best plan in the world.

Landslide echoes through speakers and the empty roads around you, Harry’s voice quietly singing along. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of this mixtape.

Let me know what ya think !! feedback & comments are always welcome ! THANK YOU FOR READINGGGG <3

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry writing #harry styles one shot #harry blurb #harry styles blurb #writing #fanfic #harry styles fluff #Harry Drabble

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actuallyrandomperson · 5 years ago

Text

My thoughts on the Sanders Sides Spotify playlists- Roman Edition!

Note: this is Purely me saying whether or not I like the songs, not theorising about any deeper meanings. I’ve done them all, so just click on the names to see my reactions to the others: Virgil, Patton, Logan, Janus

Impressions from looking through the playlist: so This One I can confidently say I know more of the songs from. At least, from the titles I do. It helps that I probably have the most personal overlap of music taste with Roman, judging by the titles I recognise sjdksk

1: ‘A Gay Disney Prince’, by Thomas Sanders, Jon Cozart. I have never heard of this song ever before, and don’t have any clue who the singers are. This song totally wasn’t on my ten hour playlist up until the moment I was playing said playlist in the kitchen while baking with my mother and it came up and I felt awkward by the innuendos at the start. And I absolutely hated it, can’t believe it was in this playlist at all. I do not know it word for word at all, and me mentioning in my schools lgbt+ club when it was released definitely didn’t result in a large majority of us bonding over our shared love of Thomas Sanders.

2: ‘Wonderboy’, by Tenacious D. I have mixed feelings on this song? Some part of me really liked it, but another really didn’t. I don’t know. I still added it to the 32 hour playlist though, as I figure I can remove it at some point in the future if that opinion eventually wins out. It was entertaining, at least!

3: ‘Disney Princess’, by Lewberger. Despite my enduring love for Keith and the rest of The Try Guys, I haven’t actually listened to that much Lewberger. This is obviously a fault that I will be remedying as soon as possible, as this song was hysterical. Obviously made it onto the 32 hour playlist, and also theres a tiny part of me getting excited over some of my faves interacting in a vague way even though I know that it’s not that unusual dhxkkdks

4: ‘Broadway, Here I Come!’, by the SMASH cast. I’ve never seen SMASH, but I liked this song! I like showtunes and songs from musicals a lot of the time, but I also only tend to listen to them when I’ve actually seen whatever they’re from, and I’m a poor 17 year old who can’t sing or act and can only slightly dance, so there’s not as many as there otherwise would be in my 32 hour playlist. This is on there now though!

5: ‘Hallelujah’, by Oh Wonder. I liked this! I expect I’ll be saying that a lot in this playlist ndjfjskdkd. I actually added it to my ten hour playlist!! Which will mean nothing to you if you haven’t read my other reactions so I recommend u go do that!! At least Patton’s/Virgil’s as they’re the ones completed at the time of writing this! Lmao

6: ‘Holding Out for a Hero’, by Bonnie Tyler. Have to say, as a gen z who grew up more with Shrek than Footloose, hearing the original version of this song was wild. I’ve heard it before, obviously, but I just. Hear this song in the fairy godmothers voice when I imagine it. This was added to the 32 hour playlist though!!

7: ‘If I Dare’, by Sara Bareilles. I’ve never seen Battle of the Sexes (unsurprisingly; I don’t watch many movies jdjdkkskw) but this song was cool! I wouldn’t purposefully seek it out in the future, but I liked it enough to put it on the 32 hour playlist so it’ll come around every now and again.

8: ‘Go the Distance’, by Roger Bart. This song highlighted the big, gaping hole in my 32 hour playlist which is the lack of music from Hercules. It’s literally my favourite Disney Renaissance film, why the fuck was the soundtrack not already in the 32 hour playlist??? It is now, don’t worry. Also, at the end of these I’m gonna be rechecking the length of both the 32 hour playlist and the 11 hour one and giving an updated total as I’ve only added 1 song so far to the 32 hour long on that wasn’t prompted by one of the songs in these playlists, and I doubt I’ll add any more, and adding all of the Hercules soundtrack + bonus tracks added another whole hour in of itself. There’s a r e a s o n this playlist has gotten so long shfjdjskxm

9: ‘Flamboyant’, by Dorian Electra. This is the first song of this playlist that I haven’t really liked, even including wonderboy. It didn’t make it onto either playlist, but I probably wouldn’t skip it if it comes up on a playlist in the future.

10: ‘Jumpstarted’, by Jukebox the Ghost. This was a bop! I often seem to like songs that jump all over the place a lil bit (see: my love of Tiny Love by MIKA and my newfound love of Be Calm by Fun.), and this one did just that! It made it to the 32 hour playlist 😄

11: ‘Brave New Girl’, Britney Spears. I mean. It’s Britney Spears. Do I need to say anything more? It’s been added to the 32 hour playlist.

12: ‘Every Boy’, by Miss Benny. If I tell y’all that ‘Boys will be Boys’ and ‘Little Game’ were the first two songs I ever added to the 32 hour playlist, I think you’ll know my feelings on this song. It’s the second first one that was already on said 32 hour playlist out of all the songs so far, and the only reason it’s not on the 10 hour one is I didn’t deem it ‘normal people music’ enough (which is the main criteria for said playlist as I play it around my fam)

13: ‘Primadonna’, by MARINA. This was a bop! I added it to the 32 hour playlist, but I don’t expect myself to specifically seek it out in the future. I did bop around to it a lil bit while lying down tho!!

14: ‘King’, by Years and Years. I didn’t recognise this song at first, but it hit the singing and I was like ‘oh!!’. It got added to the 32 hour playlist!! It’s a Bop!!!

15: ‘Cheap Queen’, by King Princess. The title and artist combination gave me a chuckle, and although I wasn’t foully sold on the song when it first started, I liked it enough by the end to add it to the 32 hour playlist. I feel like it’ll grow on me more as I hear it again in the future.

16: ‘Humility (feat. George Benson)’, by Gorillaz. My best friend was obsessed with Gorillaz when we first met, so I’ve heard a lot of their music (although this song wasn’t out back then). I liked it, and added it to the 32 hour playlist, but I probably wouldn’t seek it out specifically as I only slightly vibe with Gorillaz music

17: ‘Ain’t Got It Like That’, by Earl St Claire, PJ. I liked this, but not enough to add it to the 32 hour playlist. It was good, and I wouldn’t skip it in the future if it came up in a playlist, it just wasn’t my jam.

18: ‘Dreamer’, by LaPeer. I liked this as soon as it started, and that initial instinct proved correct! I added it to b o t h the 32 hour playlist and the ten hour one!!! I know!! It made me feel kinda soft and also the message in it is Important

19: ‘Paving the Runway (You’re Gonna Fly)’, by JJ Heller. This is another one I sensed myself liking as soon as it started, and I once again had good instincts! This one was even softer, but I liked it slightly less so it’s only on the 32 hour playlist.

20: ‘GO.’, by Keith Tutt II. This song immediately intrigued me, partially because I wasn’t initially even fully sure if it had started or if I was hearing things. I liked it, but wouldn’t specifically seek it out. It did make it into the 32 hour playlist though!!

Final Thoughts: What a shock, I liked the playlist filled with musicals and pop the most (so far)!! It’s a miracle!! It’s almost like I tend to like musicals and pop!! But yeah, I wasn’t surprised that most of this playlist fit into my music tastes. My favourite new song would probably be Dreamer, followed by Hallelujah. 18/20 got added (technically 16/20 as two were already there but u get me) to the 32 hour playlist and 2 to the 10 hour one.

@thatsthat24

#idk why i keep tagging thomas #i think im like ‘he’ll probably enjoy seeing reactions to the playlists’#even tho he probs wont actually see these #roman #roman sanders #sanders sides playlist #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides spotify #romans playlist #roman’s playlist #romans playlist reaction #roman’s playlist reaction #spotify #romans spotify #roman’s spotify

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