#day before grammys too?? woah??

[alaskan-wallflower]

GUYD IM GOING BACK THE DAY BEFORE MY BIRTHDAY

sorry if this sounds like i’m being mean too but like i’m really excited

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Today is my friday bc I booked time off to go see my grammy!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You don’t dare enter the suite again until you hear snoring. You’re cautious as you move around in the low rhythm of Lloyd’s slumber. It begins to dawn on you slowly what you’ve agreed to. You’re used to controlled doses of him. You go to work, do his bidding, then clock out. There might be a few late nights but this is too much. 

One million dollars. You repeat it to yourself like a mantra. With that money you can but your way free of this man once and for all. Hell, you might go back to school so you can be an insufferable boss one day. That might actually make your mother proud. 

You shut yourself in the bathroom and try to wake yourself with a shower. It’s nice but your fatigue is even more obvious as you emerge. Your coffee sits cold and forgotten next to scraps of bacon and an empty cup. 

You go back down to the dining hall and sit to enjoy your coffee without the threat of another awkward moment. You rub your forehead as you lean your elbow on the table and sip. Not bad for hotel brand. 

You return to the room and knock before you let yourself in. You hear stirring in the bed as you do but nothing as lewd as last time. Lloyd groans and whimpers. 

“My head,” he moans. 

“It’s almost ten,” you say. “What time is this brunch at?” 

He whines again and drags a pillow over his head. You open your carry-on and pull out your travel tube of pain killers. You cross to him and grab his hand, shoving the capsules into his palm. 

“Get up,” you say, “what time?” 

He clasps onto your fist and rips the pillow off. He tugs on you as he sits up. His eyes are blood shot and his forehead creased with agony. You want to laugh in his face. Serves him right. 

“Twelve,” he pouts. 

You wrench your hand free and go to the mini fridge. You grab him a bottle of water and toss it onto his lap. He catches it with a flinch. 

“Woah, watch the gems,” he warns. 

“I gotta go get my luggage. Find something appropriate,” you look down at the grey sweatshirt and leggings meant for the flight home. “Get yourself together.” 

You turn and grab your jacket. You’re really not looking forward to this. You agreed to it, though, and you won’t be Lloyd. You’re not going to gripe about a decision you made. One million, one million, one million... 

You go out to your car and grab your bag. You haul it back up and after another cautious tap on the door, you push your way into the room. The bathroom door is open as the shower thrums and Lloyd’s groans underline the hum. You shut it and prop your bag up on the chair. 

You pick out the cashmere cream blouse with the twisted neckline and a pair of soft beige wool trousers. Presentable but not high effort. These people are not going to stress, not any more than he already has. 

You change and search your toiletry bag. You use the wall mirror to get ready as you hear the shower crank off. Lloyd’s clumsy steps slap the tile and he crashes into the door from the inside. You make no effort to check on his as you blend in your blush. 

“Urghhhhh,” he appears like a yeti from a snow drift, staggering with his head nearly beneath his shoulders. “I feel like a sorority girl after rush week.” 

“That’s gross,” you reprimand as you put the blush stick away. “I think maybe this is a good lesson. Take it easy on the mimosas at brunch, huh?” 

“Hair of the dog,” he insists as he clutches the top of the towel and stumbles to the bed. “You wanna get out my Gucci suit. You can iron the jacket--” 

“Excuse me?” You turn. 

“Please, my beloved,” he whines. 

“N. O.” You say. 

“I’m paying you--” 

“That wasn’t what we discussed.” 

“Wives iron suits,” he retorts. 

“In 1952.” You bounce back. “Lloyd. This is business. We sell this thing to your family so you can get your money, and I can get mine, and that’s that. This is a shell. Okay?” 

“Hmph,” he grunts. He sucks his teeth as he thinks and you turn back to the mirror. You see his reflection. You don’t like that twinkle in his eyes. “Well, if we really want to sell this thing, we gotta make it seem natural.” He stands up and wobbles as he braces his forehead. He takes a breath and lumbers towards you, “you gotta act like you’re into me.” 

He brings his hand down and squeezes your ass. It’s more painful than you expect. You’re reminded of that unceremonious pinch issued by another of his bloodline. 

You spin to face him and slap his hand down, “ow. Don’t do that.” 

“Like I said, you’re not going to be engaged to guy you can’t stand. Okay? So you gotta get into it,” he reaches around you with both arms and cups your ass, pulling you flush to him. You drop your mascara and smack his upper stomach. 

“Lloyd,” you growl. 

“Put a little honey in it,” he kneads your ass as you squirm. 

“Let go--” 

“You know I’m right,” he wiggles his hips and the towel slips off. 

“Oh, god!” You push on him harder. 

“Mm, you know, I never realised how tiny you are. I could just...” He bends his knees as he slides one hand down your thigh and the other up your back. He angles to scoop you up. You squeal in surprise. “Ah, easy as pie. Just like me, Pixie stick. 

“Lloyd, put me down,” you writhe in his grasp. “This isn’t okay!” 

“Should we consummate now--” 

“Ew, oh, no.” 

“Ew?” He echoes. “What’s ew about it? I’m rich, I’m attractive--” He pauses as he turns and tosses you toward the bed. You land in a heap with a yelp. “And I’m strong.” 

You don’t have a chance to recover before he’s on top of you. He catches your hands before you can swipe at his face and he pins them above your head. He straddles you, shamelessly naked, and snickers. 

“Trust me, my thrust game is on point,” he rolls his hips and you close your eyes. 

“Lloyd, off. Now.” 

“I’m tryna get off, Pixie, trust,” he leans over you until you feel his breath. “We could have lots of fun. After three years of tension, you know it’s inevitable.” 

“Tension?” You hiss, “oh, I don’t think it’s the kind you think.” 

“You’re stressed. I’m offering you relief. A little extra bang for your buck, here.” 

“No,” you grit out between your teeth, twisting your wrists in his grip and you kick your legs. You don’t like the way it makes the whole bed jostle. “Just get off of me. Please.” 

“I’m trying to get in you,” he snarls. 

Your eyes snap open as his nose comes down next to yours. He leers down at you as his irises no longer sparkle. His features are sinister as he puffs down at you like a wild beast. Your heart jumps into your throat. He’s no longer just a nuisance, he’s a danger. 

You open and close your fingers, “we’ll be late if you don’t.” 

He stares down at you. You feel him breathing, shallow and rabid, as your own heartbeat thumps in your chest. He doesn’t have to stop and there’s really nothing you can do to make him. 

“Mom’s already mad at me,” he grumbles and pushes himself up. He slowly drags himself off and turns his back to you. You watch the muscles tauten and bring yourself up on your elbows. 

“I’ll iron your suit,” you relent. “Just put some underwear one.” 

He scoffs as you carefully roll away from him. You move as if any sudden motion might antagonize him. He gets up and grabs his phone from the night stand. He huffs as he lights up the screen. 

“This licks ass,” he growls. 

You go to his suitcase and open it. You search out the label with the G on it and hold up the red blazer. “Is this the one?” 

He looks at you as he chews his cheek. He nods and quickly goes back to his phone, tapping on it with his thumb. You roll your eyes and find a pair of black slacks to match. You take it all out and unfold the ironing board from the wall. 

You nearly wince as he approaches. He passes you and goes to his bag, bending to sift through it. “You know, I usually like to hang free.” He rips something from the suitcase, “but for you, I’ll tie the hog down.” He stands and steps into the briefs one leg at a time. He snaps the band and puts his hands on his hips. “Happy?” 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

“Yeah, me neither,” he sighs. 

❄️

In the daylight, the Hansen’s mansion appears even more pristine. As you come up the long walk with the elaborate set stone, Lloyd neatens his mustache with a small mother of pearl comb. You give him a side glance but say nothing. He hasn’t stopped fidgeting since you got in the car. 

You get to the front door and prepare yourself for another encounter with the worst people you’ve met. For all your time working for the man next to you, you should be perfectly honed for the task. Still, you’re not sure you can be ready for that bunch. 

Lloyd lets himself in and you follow. As you unzip your booties, he clears his throat. “Hey, mom, we’re here.” 

He receives no answer but you can hear the din humming from another room. He takes off his jacket and hangs it. You put yours next to his. His cheek ticks with dread and he forces his chin up. 

You follow him to the dining room and as he enters, he receives no welcome. A few stray looks are aimed at you but no one acknowledges your arrival. Lloyd clears his throat and sits. You claim the seat next to him and peer around. How jolly of a holiday. 

As your boss shifts beside you, you hold back a yawn. You haven’t got enough sleep for this nonsense. Lloyd sits forward and reaches for the jug of orange juice. Another hand reaches out to catch the crystal decanter. 

“Let us get the formalities out of the way, son,” William snarls. “You owe your mother an apology.” 

Lloyd rescinds his reach and flinches, “an apology?” 

“Yes, you humiliated her last night, storming off like that.” 

Lloyd blinks, as genuinely confused as you’ve ever seen him. His throat bobs and his eyes brows arch, “Mom,” he looks at Gwenyth as she puts her posture as straight as she can. “I’m sorry.” 

“Are you? And what about this one? I’d say she started all this trouble,” she accuses as she points at you with a red acrylic. 

You nearly scoff. Instead, you match her energy. “I have nothing to apologise for.” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd hisses. 

“No, why should I apologise? Tell me exactly what I did and I’ll let you know if I’m sorry.” 

“Pix, what are you doing?” Lloyd murmurs. 

“Well, you...” Gwenyth begins. “You said—You--” 

“You accused me of being out for money. I’m not. You insulted him,” you gesture carelessly to Lloyd, “repeatedly. So, I’m not entirely sure what I did that offended you so much. I’ve been pleasant but it doesn’t mean you can walk all over me.” 

“You are defiant,” she yaps shrilly. 

“I’m being honest. And to apologise wouldn’t be honest,” you shrug. “Now, if you would rather we leave, I’m more than happy to pack up. Obviously, I can’t meet your high standards.” 

“Pixie,” Lloyd whispers. 

The table is silent as you stare across it. You feel the fire burning under your skin. You’re not sure where that came from. Maybe it’s because none of this really matters. You don’t need to impress them. You just need to get that courthouse contract signed and you can be on your merry way. This is all just pretense. 

“Hm,” William pushes the jug toward Lloyd, “you hold onto that one. She’s clever.” 

“William,” Gwenyth yowls and swats her husband’s arm. 

“She has a point,” he says. 

“But--” 

“Suppose we are a bit hard on the boy,” he argues. 

“Or maybe he’s just a disappointment,” Lillian preens. “Daddy, please. He waited forty-three years to meet expectations.” 

“Better late than never,” Benson snorts. “I’d prefer never.” 

There’s a bit of laughter, though Gwenyth and Lillian continue to glare across at you. You would be intimidated if you were concerned about their opinions. But they are nothing compared to your grandmother’s eternal glower or your mother’s grim sighs. You might be better prepared for this than you thought. 

“Exactly what she said,” Lloyd swipes up the jug and stops himself, reaching for your glass instead of his. He fills it and presents it to you with a smirk. “We didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“All this waiting and for what,” Gwenyth fans herself and sniffles. “And he chooses this prissy little--” 

“Gwen,” William warns curtly. “Please, do not spoil another meal.” 

“Me? Spoil? I never.” She whines. 

“Hm, yes, we will not mention Easter then,” William tuts. “Let us just enjoy today. After all, I’m sure she could be at home with her own family.” 

You could and you would rather be. Yet, that is one thing you can blame on Lloyd. The more you think of it, you can blame every single snipe and jab on him. After all, he snared you into this. You might have been easily bought but that doesn’t excuse his machinations. 

You look at him with no effort to conceal the revelation. He meets your eye and his brows twitch. He bares his teeth sheepishly. Your eyes narrow as you center every ounce of exhaustion, chagrin, and general distaste in his direction.  

“You okay, honey pie?” He asks softly. 

You reach for your glass and examine it, “is there prosecco in this? If not, could I request some?” You turn back to the table. You hear Lloyd gulp and feel him shift before he reaches to touch your arm. It’s your turn to indulge. 

[vanfleeter]

Dad!Jake blurb 💙 (surprise!):

Today is a very important day.

Today is mail day, but not just any old mail day.

No. Today is the day that Jake gets a very important package in the mail containing not one but two Grammy awards for the band's latest album.

Best Rock Album and Best Rock Song.

Tommy is very eager because not only was Jake getting his trophies, but because he also gets a trophy for his participation in playing soccer. He couldn't attend the award ceremony at the soccer field due to having a fever, so you took it upon yourself to go ahead and pick up the trophy, wrap it up in bubble wrap, and stick in a plain brown delivery box specifically addressed to him. Since you all knew Jake was getting his in the mail, why not give Tommy something to open and be proud of too.

Not that he isn't already proud of Jake as well.

"Mail call!" You announce as you walk through the door. You're carrying Tommy's small box in your arms and struggling to push the two boxes for Jake across the floor with your foot.

"Oh this is going to be great!" Jake exclaims as he comes down holding Lily with Tommy trailing not too far behind.

"Is that for me?" Tommy ask, pointing to the box in your arms.

"As a matter of fact, I do believe this is addressed to you," You tell him as you hand the box to him.

"Yes!!" Tommy exclaims. "Daddy, I got my award too!"

"No way! Want to open them together?" Jake says he hands over Lily to you and picks up the top box.

"Let's do it!" Tommy says as he takes off into the living room.

After getting both boxes into the living room, Jake sits on the couch and pulls out his pocket knife set that was gifted to him one year for Father's Day. Just like his dad, he actually used it quite often.

Flicking open the knife, Jake wags his eyebrows at Tommy making him laugh before cutting open the first box of his and then cutting open Tommy's box. Jake moves back to his first box and moves aside all of the packing peanuts and opens the lid of the golden box inside.

"Woah, that's so shiny!" Tommy exclaims as he peers over the lip of the box. "But mine's better." He lifts out the participation trophy and Jake's jaw falls open.

"That's a participation trophy?" He says as he takes it from Tommy. "This thing is big! I never got one this big."

"Guess I'm just special." Tommy says with a big grin and takes back his trophy.

Jake chuckles and ruffles Tommy's hair. "You are special and you earned that trophy." He says. "And I'm proud of you."

"Will you still be proud of me when I win one of these someday?" Tommy asks as he runs his small fingers over the glossy finish of the Grammy.

"Immensely proud," Jake says. "You want to make music like me?"

Tommy nods his head. "I want to play the guitar just like you, whenever you decide to let me play yours."

Jake chuckles. "When you're older you can."

[minjix]

sample → Jack Harlow x reader (blurb)

summary: in which he lays his head on your stomach

warnings: lots of swearing and fluff. ♡♡♡

masterlist

It was late afternoon and you were laying on the couch on your back with Jack laying on top of you with his head resting on your stomach.

The day had started of hectic, errands to run and people to meet, so Jack had begged you to clear your schedule just for a cuddle, which you of course did without any hesitation.

It was quiet, the calm and soothing quiet. The silence that heavies your eyelids, calms your heartbeat and lulls you into a deep sleep. Until the Jacks voice broke the mirage.

“WOAH!” He exclaimed. He sat up and stared at you while you tried to clear your foggy mind.

“What?”

He laughed, almost giggling. “Holy shit babe.”

You were rightfully confused. “Again, what?”

He laid back down again, circling his arms around you and held you tightly. He pushed his head onto your stomach, his eyes wide.

“Jack,” you stopped to yawn. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Yo, I gotta record this shit.” He quickly grabbed his phone from the coffee table and pressed the recording app and started recording.

You were even more confused when he pressed his phone to your stomach.

“Okay, what the fuck are you doing?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

“Your stomach is making some pretty sick sounds and it created this melody thingy and i need to record it before i forget it.” He rambled and then shushed you and quickly got comfortable again while you stared wide eyed at him.

It was quiet before he stopped the recording, a satisfied smile on his lips, his curls tickling your arms as he hugged you even tighter, something you would cherish forever.

“Babe, trust me, you will be credited for this sample. You’ll probably even win a Grammy or something.” He mumbled, the smile still on his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh again. You closed your eyes ready to fall back to sleep. “Love you.” You whispered quietly to him while the afternoon sun filled the room, making Jack look ethereal.

“Love you too.” He whispered back.

꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦ ꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷

it’s been a while but i’m back so hi again :)

[candlefruit]

jikook moments i think about sometimes in no particular order they keep me awake at night

A - jin calling jimin and then jungkook takes over the call cos wat he misses his baby uwu

i love the way he let him know he loves him before ending the call im so soft akndkadnksms

B - next but not the least malta jikook omg jungkooks face is so funny poor kid hes like are you deadass bringing the camera crew in here like 💀

C - hitmakers brunch 2019 - my favorite too cos wtf was going on here and no jimin wasnt looking at jin he knew deadass jungkook was eyeing him tho 😏 they have no shame like hellooo get a room im blushing up in here jungkoom ain’t slick

D- no jungkook till this day i don’t know pls do explain cos wtf was that umm?

E - the selca they never posted i mean he can do wtv he wnts but jk why that reaction tho kanxmk

F- what the hell does laguna means to them and is it really about the american laguna thing or some expression in korean cos jin is sus too ngl either way it was special

G - bon voyage season 2 cos jungkook couldn’t answer the question and jimin was so smug about it like wtf happened between the two seasons lol

• MMA 2018 man they looked cosy af (fck photo limit 😩

• 190616 vlive i feel like they shared a room that day but i maybe wrong

• do you know bts vlive 190502

• grammy vlive 190211

• bts comeback show vlive 180524 jungkook wanted to tell the group something i believe and jimin was so giggly lol he looked at namjoon for approval i guess but never said anything after 🤷🏽‍♀️

• bts vlive amas 2017 171120 the reason why jungkook wasn’t nervous was….

• vlive 170918 that was a bit sus lol why yoongi said jk’s name like that when jimin mentionned serendipity

• BBMA 2017 vlive the bet?? jungkook didnt like the idea tho so thats that 👀

• that vlive from 170207 hobi takes jimins hand and is shocked by the ring and laugh like woah nice ring lol

• muster in busan ?? anyway jimin give a ring to jungkook and he fits the ring on his pinky finger then ask do you know what this ring means

[spade-riddles]

Tea 🍵 Time Responses

Tea Time! There's something in the bridge of Coney ISLAnd you all are missing!

🍵

Coney Island 🎤

_____________________

rainbowdaisy13 said:

Ok look into Isla Grant. She’s a Scottish folk singer and a lot of her song titles are like woah. “Daisy for Mama, You’re the Best Friend, Partners in Rhyme, Keeper of my Heart, Out of the Blue”

Could be a weird coincidence

lov4-kaylor said:

Maybe Something to do with the Gold Clock??? We just recently saw the Gold Clock in the Fearless De-Coding post from T. Maybe we still need to de-code something further with the Gold Clock. The word scramble was too easy for Ts style anyway!

a-swift-folklore said:

Why write it like IS-LAnd? My first thought was "Is LA"

sherryd23 said:

Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey.. a universe away...

Anonymous said:

Isla is a Scottish feminine given name, and it just so happens to be pronounced EYE-la 🧐

Anonymous said:

ISLA / isn't there a famous treeline in LA? it's been in a lot of movies. bonus :drake's party was in LA

asteracaea said:

the only isla i know of is fischer...

cyberpunk89 said:

maybe it’s “name” in “when I walked up to the podium, I think that I forgot to say your NAME” and tea time anon made it Coney ISLAnd, so… ISLA the name? Still not sure, it’s too simple.

UPD: well. Taylor sings “ [your] name” on 3:19 and it’s 3+1+9=13. I hate these “13″ references even if it’s coincedence.

Anonymous said:

It's probably obvious, but the Trump family bought up huge swathes of Coney Island in the 60s and got entangled in legal actions over what to do with it. Locals were trying to revitalize the area but Trump Sr wanted to forget the fairground amenities and build more profitable apartments instead. I don't remember all the details but I think they took him on and he won. The setting adds a layer of sad irony to Taylor singing about losing the good times after the election.

Anonymous said:

re: tea time/ full disclosure i'm terrible with riddles but if you google gold clock nyc the most prominent that comes up is on fifth avenue (the 666 kushner bullding is also on fifth avenue). it's not much but i hope we can solve this

Anonymous said:

ISLA-Lisa baby name?

Anonymous said:

Okay the Coney Island bridge makes mention of a birthday and TT! anon hid the name Isla in their message! Could Isla be the name of the Kaylor child?

Anonymous said:

ISLA Blair, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.

lov4-kaylor said:

Could it be the babies name??? Ben??? Silly me that's the cat's name...

Anonymous said:

"When I walked up to the podium I think that I forgot to say your name " well she certainly did not forget to say Joe's name, so whose name could she possibly have forgot? 🤔😆

Anonymous said:

Anonymous said:

Well it could be Isla, as in the name, that's why it was capitalized. But if it was that simple why specifically direct us to the bridge? Food for thought: the bridge of the song has 11 verses/lines (according to google) and Coney Island has 11 letters. So maybe we should focus on the capitalized ones, which are 6-9? So on this part: "Did I paint your bluest skies the darkest gray / A universe away /And when I got into the accident / The sight that flashed before me was your face".

Anonymous said:

just dropping observations about the coney island bridge, maybe someone else can run with them

Isla is a (Spanish) girls name, that means island

when taylor sings your name in the bridge it sounds like someone is singing in the background/ there is an echo

the only other time this is the case is during the first three lines of the bridge specifically

your name is said exactly from 3:17 (11) to 3:19 (13)

one connection I made was to Taylor mentioning three kids on the last 'podium' where she thanked people. this seemed strange to everyone and feels like it was a placeholder for a name she 'forgot'/ couldn't say

@chosetherose said:

Ooo thanks TT!

First thoughts:

Isla is a popular baby girls name. Is this kaylor’s daughter’s name?

I need to listen to Coney Island again and think things through.

redpaintedgolden said:

i feel like it’s about

Were you waiting at our old spot

In the tree line

By the gold clock

the other lines are kinds self explanatory. and we know abot the birthday cake

Anonymous said:

Re TT Coney ISLAnd, the only thing that has been in my mind since the Grammys is the bit

And When I walked up to the podium

I think I forgot to say your name

Over and over..

So, the baby in Coney Island isn’t the same person that was named in the Grammys speech (obvious, yes)

But what’s really been haunting me about this song is the lyric “when the sun goes down”.. and coincidentally a certain embodiment of the sun or literal sunshine ☀️ went down (in the dark/out of the spotlight) around the same time evermore was released.

swift-79 said:

So I have a little time before a meeting so let see. London has a ferris wheel like a coney island. The London Eye. Lyric:"we're you waiting at our old spot. In the tree line by the gold clock".🤔🤔 So if it is about Joe why is someone waiting in secret! 😉😎🌈 So old golden clock maybe the Big Ben in London. Does it have tree lines?

Yes it does than next lyric:

"Did I leave you hanging every single day?"🤔

Another meaning for hanging can be "floating" She used that word not so long ago. 🤔🤔🤔

Lyric: "where you standing in the hallway with a big cake, happy birthday"

Now about the cake in the hallway we know that KK who left a Victoria Secret photo shooting to be at Taylor b-day or it about the cake in Miss Americana🤔

Don't have more time to decipher maybe this can be a start for another person to continue. I don't know if I am on the right path either. Good luck!!!! 😉😎🌈

kellykaylor said:

When I first saw ISLA in capital letters, i was thinking about the International Securities Lending Association, a trade association. But I dont think thats the part we missed.

So for all the NYC people out here: is there a physical bridge which u can take to coney island? maybe tea time anon was referring to an actual 🌉? swift-79 said:

Hmm Great Britain is an Island in the North Atlantic Ocean! 😉😎🌈

Anonymous said:

re: teatime anon, if the C in Coney ISLAnd is capitalized, perhaps the I would normally be capitalized as well, meaning the change would be the capitalization of SLA.

i don’t have much either than that but, SLA is an acronym for “Service Level Agreement” —which isn’t really a term in the entertainment world i don’t think but one example definition i found is “a guarantee of performance in a contract, with penalties for not hitting the published elements. For example, a customer might have a guaranteed 4 hour response window to equipment issues, or a guarantee on spare part arrival of 24 hours or less.”

[k-llama-llama]

Security

BTS AU: 8th member

Sumi x BTS

An incident on an airplane leaves BTS frustrated and distressed.

Check out my PATREON (patreon.com/kllamallama) for exclusive content. This post was available a month ago for those on my patreon.

Requests are OPEN.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

"Woah, this plane is fancy." Yoongi gasped as he stepped into his little pod.

Sumi smirked from hers, setting her bag at her feet. "I think this chair turns into a bed, too."

"We've made it, guys." Hoseok laughed.

They were getting ready to fly to the US for the Grammys, and Sumi had fully equipped herself for the ride ahead. She was wearing a white crop top and leggings, with an oversize Gucci sweater she'd stolen from Tae. Her bag was stocked with face masks, an eye mask, some snacks, and a cozy blanket so she could get some sleep.

"Noona, do you want to watch a movie?" Jungkook asked. His pod was right across the aisle from hers, and he'd already flipped his chair into a bed.

She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Kookie. I need to get some sleep."

"That's okay. Are you going to turn your chair into a bed."

"Yeah, I think so." She answered, gesturing to the passengers still coming down the aisle. "Once everyone is boarded."

It only took another twenty minutes until the bulk of the passengers had boarded, with all of the members keeping their gazes down to avoid attracting attention. When she felt like most people had walked past, she leaned over to try and figure out how to transform her bed.

Someone bumped into her, a hand landing on her bottom.

She looked up in surprise.

"Sorry, sorry." A man wearing a face mask bowed apologetically. "I stumbled, I'm so sorry."

Sumi gave a little smile. "It's okay."

He bowed again and hurried away, towards the economy seating. Sumi shrugged, before reaching across to pull on Jungkook's sleeve. "How do I make the bed."

He put his bottle of water down. "Like this." He showed her, and in no time Sumi had her very own little bed.

She sat up until the plane took off, and once the seatbelt sign went off she settled in to get comfy. Her hair went up in a bun, her sweater came off, and she put her Mika pillow under her head. She grabbed the blanket and snuggled down, pulling her sleeping mask over her face and her mask up to cover her nose.

"You look like a demon." She heard Hoseok's voice from above her. She lifted the mask slightly, seeing him peering over the top of her pod. Someone walked by, and she waited for them to leave before she spoke.

"I'm trying to protect everyone from my sleeping face." She answered.

"We appreciate it." He laughed. "You brought face masks, right? Can I borrow some?"

"Yeah, they're in my bag." She went to sit up.

"Not now." He shook his head. "After my nap, I think."

"Hmmm, okay." She settled back down, pulling her mask over her eyes as someone else walked by the bed. "You can just come and grab them."

"I will. Get some sleep, Soo." He patted her hair.

It was about six hours into the flight when the lights finally went off. Sumi had woken up a few times throughout her nap, once for food, and was finally able to fall asleep as the lights went off and people quieted down. There was only the flight attendants walking back and forth, and she snuggled happily into her pillow, the blanket shifting around as she rolled.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she became aware of someone standing next to her pod. A hand settled on her bare waist, leaning over her.

She just determinedly closed her eyes. Figured that Hobi wouldn't be able to just grab her bag, he'd have to wake her up to do it.

Except then his other hand came to rest on her boob.

"Yah!" She sat up, whispering harshly, yanking her mask off and preparing to smack Hoseok with it.

But it wasn't Hoseok.

"Who are-"

The man smacked a hand over her mouth.

She screamed, but it was muffled against his hand. The cabin was dark and she didn't see any flight attendants. She kicked frantically, her foot bashing the pod in front of her.

"Sumi, what are you-" Yoongi stood up. "Who the hell are you?"

He made no effort to be quiet, as he shoved the guy away, coming to stand in the aisle.

"What's happening?" Lights started coming on.

The guy reached up from his spot on the floor, his hand grasping at Sumi's leg.

"YAH!" It was Jungkook's hand that grabbed his wrist and threw him away. "What are you doing?"

"Soo, what did he do?" Namjoon was standing in aisle, not touching the man, but clearly blocking his exit.

"He was...he was..." She shook her head, pulling the blanket up over her chest.

"He was touching her." Yoongi said simply. "Can we get security or something?"

"Soo, are you okay?" Tae reached for her hand.

She nodded, taking his hand. "I...I think I'm..."

"She's shaking." Tae said, moving to sit next to her on the bed. "Soo..."

She turned her face into his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." He rubbed her shoulder, aware of the fact that she was using him to hide her tears.

"Is there  a problem here?" A male flight attendants voice broke through as he came to stand at the edge of their little gathering.

"Yeah, this guy just assaulted our friend." Yoongi snapped. "Can we get him detained please?"

"I didn't do anything wrong." The man protested. "I just...fell."

"With your hand over her mouth?" Jungkook glared at him.

"She's crying, you idiot!" Jimin shouted. "Are you kidding? Where's our manager?"

"Let's get you back to your seat." The male flight attendant hauled the man to his feet, leading him back through the aisles.

"Back to his..." Hoseok watched as the took the man away. "Are you serious?"

"Excuse me," Namjoon turned to the other flight attendant. "We're going to find our manager, and then we'll need that man's information."

"Sir, I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding, we-"

"A misunderstanding?" Taehyung said as loudly as he dared, fully conscious of the fact that Sumi was still sniffling into his chest.

"Are you sure she didn't..." The flight attendant floundered for words. "Encourage it in some way?"

"Are you serious?" All of the boys shouted in protest.

"I didn't encourage it!" Sumi mumbled.

"We know you didn't, Soo." Tae patted her cheek. "Joon."

Namjoon was no longer trying to play nice. "We'll get his information, and then we'll get yours. Because we're pressing charges."

"Surely you don't need."

"Keep arguing with him." Yoongi snorted. "We'll get you fired! Do you want to-"

"Oppa." Sumi reached out a hand to him. "It isn't worth it."

He stopped talking, but he looked like he definitely wanted to say more.

"Manager-nim!" Jimin exclaimed as their manager appeared, quickly explaining the situation. Their manager ushered the flight attendant away, promising to get the information they needed.

"You going to be okay, Soo?" Hoseok pulled on the top of her bun. "They'll figure everything out."

She pulled back from Tae's chest, wiping her eyes. "Sorry, I'm overreacting."

"You aren't." Namjoon promised. "I can't believe they handled it like that. As if you would actually-"

Tae clicked him tongue in warning, and Namjoon stopped. "Anyways, we'll figure it out."

"Do you want to try and get some more sleep?" Jimin asked.

Sumi shrugged. "I doubt I'll be able, but I should try. We have a big day tomorrow."

"I just don't get it." Yoongi shook his head. "Did he just like...jump on you...or..."

Sumi shook her head. "I thought it was Hobi at first. I should've been more careful."

"You were sleeping, you weren't supposed to be anything." Tae reminded her. "Just, try and relax, okay. If you can't sleep, just watch a movie and take your mind off it."

"We'll watch a movie together, Noona." Jungkook offered. "And we can do face masks."

She nodded, trying to force a smile on her face. She didn't like crying in general, but there was nothing she hated more than Jungkook seeing her cry.

The other boys migrated back to their seats, all of them on edge. The manager returned at one point to whisper something to Namjoon, who gave a satisfied nod.

Jungkook picked a Disney movie, and pressed play on his and Sumi's screens at the same time. Sumi hugged her pillow as she watched, while Jungkook kept an eye on her. Eventually, her eyes started to drift shut, until she fell asleep just before Moana restored Te Fiti.

She didn't wake up again until the announcement came on that the plane was landing. She wearily rubbed sleep from her eyes, trying to wake herself up. She glanced across the aisle, seeing Jungkook still watching TV.

"Kookie?" She mumbled, sitting up. "Did you get any sleep?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't tired."

"Soo, they're going to take that guy off the plane first, okay? And then we get off." Namjoon leaned forward to tell her.

There was a slight commotion down the aisle, and Jungkook was instantly on his feet. Disregarding the lack of space, he smushed himself into Sumi's pod, completely blocking her from the aisle. She peeked out from around his shoulder as the man was led past, two flight attendants following him.

"See, he's gone." Jungkook told her with a smile.

Sumi gave him a tiny smile. "Now it's grammy time."

"Are you kidding me?" They heard Namjoon's voice. "They aren't going to do anything?"

"What are you talking about?" Hoseok asked, looking over to wear Namjoon was discussing with their manager.

Their manager sighed. "The company has elected not to press charges. They said it's probably not worth dealing with American legal stuff."

"They're doing nothing?" Sumi gasped.

"Call them again." Yoongi insisted. "You can't seriously just except-"

"It's been decided." Namjoon stated, though he looked anything but happy about it. "Let's just, try not to let this ruin our trip."

Sumi sniffled, but started packing her things. When they deboarded the plane, she pulled her mask over her face, trying to hide her emotions.

Jungkook, and the rest of the boys for that matter, were not doing as good of a job. The Maknae linked arms with her, and didn't let go even as they collected their luggage and moved past the fans. Tae kept shooting her worried glances, and Yoongi was just staring angrily at the ground. Jin even snapped at their manager, and was only pulled away by Hobi. Only Jimin and Namjoon mustered the energy to give more than a polite wave to fans, while Sumi just looked down, blinking back tears.

"Don't cry, Noona." Jungkook said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and using his bag to block her face. "That guy isn't worth it."

"This was supposed to be an awesome trip, and I've already -"

"You didn't do anything wrong." He insisted. "Please, Noona? I hate seeing you sad."

She gave a tiny smile, though he couldn't see it due to her mask. "Sorry."

"Just this once, I'll allow it." He patted her shoulder. "Can we get burgers tonight?"

"You can, I need to fit into my dress tomorrow."

"Burgers are the ultimate cheer-up food." Jungkook insisted. "You're eating at least one."

[freddiesaysalright]

Peace Like A River Part 2

A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story

Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @simmisblog, @assembledherethevolunteers, @lookuptotheskiesandsee If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Wow, you all caught on to the inspo from She Loves Me real quick lol! One of my favorite musicals of all and definitely a part of what inspired this fic. Hope you enjoy the update!

Part I

Part 2 here we go!!!

Saturday was approaching faster than you wished. On Friday night, before getting on stage, you were tempted to text Gwilym and cancel. And then call your mother and cancel going to the reunion as well. If it hadn’t been for Stacy, you absolutely would have done those things. Unfortunately, your assistant was strong willed and persistent. You were going. You thought her real intentions were to get you to see Gwilym more romantically and forget about Dear Friend. But you could never forget Dear Friend, even if Gwilym was sickeningly handsome and fun to hang out with.

On Saturday, Gwilym arrived to pick you and Violet up from your hotel around noon. You wore a simple blouse and jeans and had Violet in a dress your mother had sent her a few weeks earlier. Violet twirled around in the lobby and giggled. 

“Careful, sweetie, you’re gonna get dizzy,” you warned gently.

“If she falls, I’ll catch her,” Gwilym said as he walked up.

You beamed at him. “Aren’t you a gentleman?”

“I do what I can,” he returned. “Are you ladies ready?”

“We are,” you said. “Violet, can you say hi to Gwilym?”

“Hi!” she chirped, waving to him.

“Hello, sweet girl!” he returned, along with the wave. He looked at you. “She’s certainly friendlier today.”

“It’s amazing how different they are when they aren’t tired,” you said. You turned to your daughter. “Take my hand, baby.”

She obeyed. She reached her other hand toward Gwil. 

“It’s the rule,” she told him.

“Well, who am I to argue with rules?” he said with a smile.

He offered her his hand and she wrapped her little fist around his pinky. Together, you all walked out of the hotel and to the waiting car. Gwilym helped Violet in first and then you. You looked at the floor and smiled. He had brought flowers. He climbed in beside you and closed the door.

“Flowers?” you questioned.

“Naturally,” he replied with a shrug. 

He picked them up and you saw there were two bouquets and a small bunch. He handed a bouquet to you.

“For you,” he said. The small bunch (which consisted of only three flowers) he handed to Violet. “For you, dear.”

“Thank you,” she said happily.

“And the last is for your mother,” he finished.

“Gwil…” you trailed off. “This is too much.”

“I’m just a dedicated actor,” he joked.

You laughed. “Whatever you say.”

The reunion was in Central Park. You and Gwilym discussed a plan and decided to go with as close to truth as possible. You had filmed together years ago and recently reconnected. It was just vague enough that it wouldn’t be hard to explain the “breakup” to your mother in a few weeks. You reached the park in no time and Gwilym helped you out of the car, just as he had helped you in. He held your hand as you walked across the grass toward your mother. Violet took off running to her grandmother, who scooped her up and kissed her cheek, leaving a big red lipstick mark. 

“Hi, Grammy!” Violet giggled.

“Hello, sweetheart!” she returned.

You and Gwilym finally caught up just as she was returning Violet to the ground. Immediately, her cousins pulled her aside to play. You smiled as she ran around with them, her curls bouncing right out of her ponytail.

“Mom, this is Gwilym,” you said. “Gwilym, this is my mother.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Gwilym said, extending the flowers to her.

She took them and smiled wide. “Oh, how thoughtful! Are you a special friend of Y/N’s?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” you lied. 

She let out such a shriek of delight, it startled you. She yanked a shocked Gwilym into a tight hug as she giggled.

“Finally!” she cried. “Thank God!”

She pulled away and straightened his shirt, still grinning like a madwoman.

“Mom, what the hell?” you demanded.

“I can’t help it, dear,” she returned. “I just - you know how long I’ve waited for someone to take care of you since you left Henry. Now you won’t have to do anymore of that vulgar comedy!”

“I’m still gonna do comedy,” you told her. “I’m not having this argument again.” You looked at Gwil. “Sorry about this.”

“No worries, love,” he assured you. 

“Oh, he’s so English,” your mother gushed. “Well, come on and meet the rest of us, Gwilym. We won’t bite you...until we know you better.” She giggled at herself.

“Mom,” you groaned.

Gwilym chuckled.

“Don’t encourage her,” you snapped.

“What? It was cute,” he argued.

Before you could answer, he was being dragged away by your mother to meet your dad, siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins. You felt sorry for him as she paraded him around. The way she acted, you would think you’d won a prize. But to your mother, there was no greater prize than having a man in your life. Gwilym handled it all well, charming everyone. In fact, everyone was so enthralled with your pretend boyfriend, you were pretty much ignored. It hit you once again just how angry they still were at you for leaving Henry.

Your family was traditional. No one had ever gotten a divorce until you. What made it all the worse was that they loved Henry. He had them all so wrapped up in his big personality that no one saw that you were deteriorating beneath him. They never saw the monster that he was. When you divorced and announced that you were cutting him from your life - he was never to contact you again - they were devastated. They believed you when you explained you were abused, but none of them ever fully believed the extent of it. They were shocked to their collective core when he signed away all his rights to Violet. Now as you watched them fawn over Gwilym, that neglected feeling returned. Your stomach churned uncomfortably.

You took a seat on a bench and tried to swallow the lump that had appeared in your throat. It was especially bruising since you knew that if you were a man, you would be considered successful. You had two Netflix specials, after all. You were completely financially independent and provided a good life for your daughter. But because of your family’s backwards ideas, none of that meant anything. Simply because you were a single woman. Your eyes found Violet where she ran with her cousins. You could not allow her to grow up around people who made her feel less than just because of her gender. You took a deep breath.

A sigh escaped you just as Gwilym took a seat on your right. You looked at him and concern clouded his face as he handed you a glass of wine. You took a large gulp of it.

“Woah, are you alright?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, not really. I don’t wanna talk about it, but this is the last time I’m coming to one of these fucking things.”

“Did something happen?” he pressed.

“No,” you told him. “It’s what’s been happening my whole life. I left my husband to protect my daughter, and I’ll leave my family too if I have to.”

“I’m confused,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him. “It’s just...it’s my own shit that I’m realizing now that I brought someone here. Thank you for coming, Gwilym, really.”

“I’m sorry for...whatever it is that’s hurting you,” he replied. “I’m glad I was helpful to you. Your family is certainly unique in their beliefs. Your mother mentioned twice to me that you refused to give Violet her father’s last name.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, not that again.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asked. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Because she’s not his,” you said. “She’s mine.”

“So he has no contact with either of you?” 

“No,” you said firmly. “I’d never let my daughter around that animal.”

A beat passed as he looked at you. It was not pity in his gaze. Admiration lay behind his eyes, and you appreciated that. So many people pitied you when you talked about your marriage. Part of the reason you joked about it was so that people would not look at you with pity. Humor has a way of showing people you were over it, even if you weren’t.

“It amazes me how you were able to pull yourself out of that,” he told you. “I know another woman who was in a similar situation and had the courage to leave, and I can’t say it enough...you’re impressive.”

Tears stung your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. 

“Thank you,” you said.

Somehow, it was exactly what you needed to hear. His timing was almost as good as Dear Friend’s. Your heart rested again. Even so, you only stayed for about another hour before you left the reunion. As the car pulled away from the park, relief began to wash over you. Violet crawled onto Gwilym’s lap and dozed against his chest. You closed your eyes and leaned your head on his shoulder. 

“I’ve got some tired girls,” he said with a small laugh.

You nodded. “Sorry if this is weird, I just feel heavy.”

“Rest, Y/N, I don’t mind,” he replied.

When you reached the hotel again, Gwilym carried the now sleeping Violet up to your room. You followed close behind and felt an ache in your heart. Why couldn’t she have had a father like him? Or like Dear Friend? It was so unfair. He put her in bed and you pulled the covers up over her shoulders.

“Thanks again,” you said to Gwil. “For everything. Let me know if you ever need a fake date to something. I’m your girl.”

He smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You walked him to the door and you found yourself sad to see him go. You didn’t know when you would see him again.

“I’m sorry your day was so difficult,” he said as he took hold of the knob.

You held his gaze. “Not all of it was.”

He released the door and pulled you into a hug. You held each other for a long moment. It felt like it was two years ago. Like he was truly your friend. You heaved a sigh in his arms and drank in the moment, telling yourself you would do better about maintaining the friendship this time.

“We’ll see each other soon,” he said, sounding just a little unsure.

“I’ll make sure we do,” you replied.

With a quick goodbye, he left. You watched him disappear down the hall. With another sigh, you closed the door. 

The following week, you were in Boston. You felt lighter now that you had rid yourself of the burden of your family. Even though you only ever saw them at reunions, it was freeing to get away from that. However, your heart grew heavier the longer it took to hear from Dear Friend. It was taking longer than usual to get a letter back, and it sat in the back of your mind as you went through your set.

“It’s hilarious to me when men argue about women’s issues,” you said to another large crowd. “Like, women can say something as simple as ‘hey, can we maybe get paid the same amount of money to do the same job as you?’ and men immediately go ‘oh, so we can hit you now?’”

You heard mostly women in the audience laugh.

“Oh, it’s ridiculous. How is that even related? I would love for someone to explain that logic to me. Because in case y’all didn’t know, you’re already hitting us and getting away with it,” you went on. “My ex-husband beat the shit out of me and I never once got a check in the mail afterwards.”

You took a drink of water as they laughed some more.

“When has that ever been the exchange?” you continued. “And what the fuck do you mean ‘we can hit you now’? You’ve only not been able to legally hit us within the last hundred years, before women were being paid to do anything! Not to mention, you still fucking do it anyway! Our salaries have never made a difference in whether or not you hit us!”

About half the audience cheered, and you soaked in the applause, but your mind wandered briefly to Dear Friend once more. You caught a glimpse of Stacy backstage and hoped she had a letter for you.

“I realize the men in the room are probably a little uncomfortable right now,” you said. “But to be honest, fellas, I didn’t know y’all were coming.”

They laughed.

“So just sit there and take that shit, honestly,” you finished with a shrug. 

You continued on through your set and got to the end, where you talked about Violet and shared that part of your life with them. As you took your bows and headed off stage, Stacy smiled at you and held up an envelope. Your heart skipped a beat. You would recognize that handwriting from anywhere. Dear Friend. At last.

“Finally!” you cried, taking the letter from her and tearing it open.

“Good show, by the way,” she said, smirking.

“Thank you,” you replied distractedly. You opened the letter and your eyes scanned across it, taking in every word.

“Dear Friend,” it began, as that was his name for you as well. “I’d like to begin by apologizing for this letter taking so long to reach you. I’m travelling right now and my post is being forwarded to me. I do hope you weren’t too worried. I could never abandon you, darling. I’m happy to hear all is well with you. I read a quote from Tolstoy the other day that made me think of you and our relationship. It went, ‘I already love in you your beauty, but I am only beginning to love in you that which is eternal and ever precious - your heart, your soul. Beauty one could get to know and fall in love with in one hour and cease to love it as speedily; but the soul one must learn to know. Believe me, nothing on earth is given without labor, even love, the most beautiful and natural of feelings.’

“Isn’t that a lovely sentiment? Although I don’t know what you look like, I feel I do know your soul. We have worked hard to establish such a love. I do feel that I love you. Have I ever said it to you before? Well, I’ll say it again. I love you. I love you. I love you. Who cares what it means to others as long as we know what we mean to each other? Looking forward to your response as always. Yours, Dear Friend.” 

You hurried back to your hotel, tucked Violet into bed, and then sat down to write a response. Your heart was fluttering around in your chest like a hummingbird. He loved you. You could now tell him you felt the same. Yet another sense of freedom washed over you. You were in love. For perhaps the first time in your life. With a trembling hand, you began to write back. 

Dear Friend. That was a lovely sentiment from Tolstoy. I admit I haven’t been reading as much lately since I too am travelling. Where are you in the world? My heart goes with you!

I can’t tell you how thrilled I am to know your true feelings! It’s given me the strength to be vulnerable and express my own! I love you. I love you. I love you. Can you believe we’ve gone so long without saying these simple words? I’m so relieved to have them out there. And I can safely say I’ve never felt so strongly for another person before.

You started to write the next line, but the sound of a voice from the hallway turned your blood cold. The voice of a man who was everything Dear Friend was not. He was talking on the phone judging by the lack of responses between phrases. But what on Earth was your ex-husband doing in Boston?

Shaking your head, you reasoned with yourself. Henry was a sergeant with the NYPD. He was much too busy to be making random trips out of town. You had to be mistaken. The mystery man and his frightening voice faded down the hall, and you released a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Nearly four years had passed since you left him, and Henry still scared you stiff. You hated his lingering hold on you.

You glanced at Violet, who was still sleeping soundly.  Feeling an extra need to be near, you got up and walked over, sitting carefully next to her. You reached out your hand and ran a gentle finger through her curls. She barely stirred and rolled over, cuddling closer to you subconsciously. She took a deep breath as she nuzzled down into your lap and you felt a surge of affection for her. 

What you said to Dear Friend wasn’t necessarily true. You had felt a strong love - perhaps the strongest in the world - but he didn’t know about Violet. That felt more like an in-person conversation to have. If you could ever work up the courage to meet him.

Out of nowhere, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. You snatched it up and saw that the caller was Gwilym. A smile claimed your lips as you swiped to answer.

“Hello?” you whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” he wondered.

“Violet’s asleep,” you returned lowly. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Oh it is rather late, isn’t it?” he chuckled. “Are you still in Boston?”

“Yeah,” you told him. “Are you in town?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “But I will be tomorrow. I’ve got this charity gala thing that...well, a person invited me to, and let’s just say it would be better for my pride if I had a date.”

“Oh, I see,” you said with a smirk. “Your ex invited you.”

“How’d you guess?” he asked with a laugh.

“Gee, I dunno, maybe it was the vague ass description and the fact that you need a date,” you teased.

“Can you come?” he pressed.

“Yeah, tonight was my last show, and I don’t fly out for another two days,” you assured him. “Do I need to get a gown?”

“Yeah, it’s black tie,” he said.

“How sexy do you want it to be?” you wondered.

He chuckled and you felt your heart speed up. You narrowed your eyes at yourself. What the hell was that about?

“Make it classy,” he said. “But with a little something extra.”

“Got it,” you returned. “How’s the promo going?”

“It’s loads of fun, but I’m looking forward to doing something else for at least one evening,” he said. “With some fresh company.”

“I’m telling Joe you said that,” you joked.

“Eh, he won’t hook up with me for a few days, but it’s no big deal,” he replied.

You snorted.

“How’s tour?” he asked.

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s sort of the same stuff every day, so I’m looking forward to changing it up as well.”

“Glad to be of service,” he said. “Hey, have you ever thought about touring in England?”

“You think I’d do well over there?” you pondered.

“Sure you would,” he assured you.

“I am a pretty funny fucker, aren’t I?” you remarked.

He laughed. “The funniest of all the fuckers, no doubt.”

You giggled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gwil.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight.”

You hung up. Violet stirred again and her eyes fluttered open. She looked sleepily up at you.

“Mommy…”

“What is it, sweetie?” you asked.

“Had a dream,” she said.

“What did you dream?”

“You and Mister Gwilym got married,” she said. “In Mexico.”

“Oh?” you chuckled. “Was it a nice wedding?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Until I got captured by monkeys.” 

You laughed. “That would make it a sad day.”

“S’okay, you saved me,” she assured you.

“I’ll always protect you,” you said, stroking her cheek gently. 

Her eyes slowly closed again, and she was asleep. You got up and went to finish your letter to Dear Friend. You read over your words again and your heart soared. You were in love. The most beautiful and natural of feelings.

[loove-persevering]

I’ve Been Waiting..(Shawn Mendes Imagine)

Description: I was watching the trailer for the movie ‘Yesterday’ and the line ‘’I’ve been waiting half my life for you to wake up and love me,’’ just really inspired me to write this so enjoy! 

   ‘’Don’t run!’’ You yell at the kids as they make there way outside, it was the last day of school and it was field day making them beyond crazy. You loved your job as a teacher, you really loved all of the kids you taught and it was amazing to see them grow each year. 

 You watched as they ran around from one station to the next bringing all their energy with them as they did so. After a while they got called in for lunch, the parents had taken care of lunch so you decide to head back to your room and grab the one you had packed for yourself. You were scrolling through your phone on twitter as you walked down the hall to your classroom when you came across a video.

It was a video of Shawn and a girl at a club, something that you had been seeing very often lately. You sigh watching how close they get in the video, you roll your eyes and quickly exit out of the app. Shawn and you had been best friends your entire life, it seemed like you didn’t have a memory growing up that didn’t involve him in someway. You had met him when you were five and he had been with you ever since, when you went on your first date, when you broke your nose on the trampoline in front of your crush...who was the one who accidentally broke your nose.

  The thing was you were in love with Shawn, and he had no idea not even a hint of one. You had never told anyone and it was hard for you to even admit it to yourself at first, you realized it a few months ago that you loved him. When he went on tour the first time it was hard because you missed your best friend the person you did everything with, but this tour was different you weren’t only missing your best friend you were missing the man you loved, and that was one of the hardest things. You talked everyday but you found yourself being envious of the girls he gave his time to and thats when you realized you were in love with him. It had grown over the years but you knew from that moment forward you’d never love anyone like you loved him.

  You got to know everything about him, you watched as his career went from filming in his room to selling out stadiums. You watched as he went from small awards shows to performing and being nominated for a grammy! It wasn’t only you watching him grow though, Shawn was there when you got accepted to college, he was there when you graduated, and he would call you even now when he got the chance to and ask how school was going. 

  You knew he was coming home today, it was perfect timing for the summer, he had about a month off until tour started and then he would be back on the road again. It seemed like it had been so long since you last saw him, but today you’d finally get to and that was all that mattered. 

  The day went by pretty quickly after that, you tried to not remember the video you saw but you still felt that aching in your stomach as you thought about him with someone else. You weren’t mad just envious that she got to hold him and touch him in a way you could only dream of. Once you get off work and wish your co-workers a good summer you were out the door and on your way to his house. You pulled up to his house seeing the front door open and you quickly get out running to it and flinging it open, before you knew it you saw his familiar curls standing only a few feet away. You don’t even remember it but you somehow ended up in his arms only a few short seconds later both his arms wrapping around your waist. You pull away finally seeing his face and you notice the crinkles by his eyes as he smiled widely at you, it was your favorite thing to see. 

 ‘’Fuck, I missed you!’’ You say to him pulling him back into a hug.

He squeezes your body as you hug him again this hug lingering a bit more as his face was buried in the crook of your neck. ‘’I missed you,’’ He says simply. You greet the rest of his family and catch up for a few minutes before Shawn asks you to come outside with him, you out onto this back porch and sit down in one of the chairs looking up at him, ‘’So,’’ He sighs. 

 ‘’So?’’ You say laughing at him, ‘’What’s up?’’ You ask. 

You watch the smile on his face grow slightly, ‘’I met a girl,’’ He states. Your smile slowly begins to fade as realization hit, he invited you out here to tell you this? ‘’I invited her up to meet everyone, she’ll be here next week will you come to dinner with us?’’ He asks eagerly still looking at you with his contagious smile.

 You look down at your hands filling with the ring on your finger sliding it up and down, how could you tell the man you loved how much it would hurt to see him with another girl? A girl that wasn’t you? ‘’Uh, maybe I’m pretty busy these next couple weeks.’’ You lie.

 He laughs, ‘’Doing what? School ended today, it’s on a weekend anyway,’’ He says. 

‘‘I just don’t think I’ll be able to make it Shawn,’‘ You say feeling yourself grow irritated. 

 You watch as his face scrunches in confusion a look of hurt flashes in his eyes, ‘’Woah? What’s wrong with you?’’ He asks. 

 You sigh and answer, ‘’Nothing.’’

 ‘’Well if you can’t come then I’ll just tell you she’s amazing, I really like her,’’ He says and you felt as if it was a punch in the stomach after every word. ‘’She’s beautiful, she’s smart, adventurous, she works in the modeling industry so she get’s how stressful being in the public eye is which is great,’’ He explains. 

 You felt the tears building up in your eyes as he talked about her, if only he would talk about you like that. You could never compare to a model you were only a school teacher and in Shawn’s book that meant you would never understand what it’s like to be in the spotlight. Shawn grabs your attention after waving his hand in your face and you realize you had been ignoring him, ‘’Sorry, what?’’ You ask him. 

 ‘’I said don’t you think she’s pretty?’’ He asks gesturing to his phone which had a picture of the girl you assumed he was with. You gulp and nod your head at him forcefully, ‘’You okay?’’ He asks when he finally notices your face. It seemed like when you cried your face immediately gave it away even before a tear could fall, it grew red a blotchy which made it impossible to hide your feelings.

 ‘’Yeah,’’ You smiles forcefully, ‘’I should go, I have to go make dinner,’’ You say. 

‘‘You’re not gonna eat here?’‘ Shawn laughs slightly. You push yourself out of the chair quickly getting up and walking toward the door of his house. ‘‘Y/N, really what’s wrong you’re being weird,’‘ He says looking at you oddly.

 You sigh your hand was on the door knob and you turn around to face him figuring that was the best way to do it, ‘’You don’t get it do you?’’ You ask him. He looks at you confused, ‘’I’ve been waiting half my life for you to wake up and love me.’’ You say to him. 

You watch as his eyes widen, they meet yours and you see sympathy in them and you realize that it wasn’t reciprocated. ‘’But I’m a school teacher, and she’s a model and I can’t compare to that,’’ You say feeling the tears fall down your face. 

 Y/N..’’ Shawn begins to say but you cut him off. 

‘‘You don’t need to say anything Shawn,’‘ You pause. ‘‘You’re famous, and I could never understand what that’s like, I get that.’‘ You say and you watch him wince at the repetition of his exact words. ‘‘You’re one of the best guys I know, one of the best songwriters out in the business right now and I’m so happy for you,’‘ You choke out. ‘‘But I can’t do this.’‘

Shawn takes a step closer to you taking his hand and touching the side of your arm, ‘’Do what?’’ He asks quietly. 

‘‘I can’t watch you with another girl and be fine, I can’t’‘ You explain and you watch the realization hit his face, ‘‘I’ve been waiting for you to realize that maybe I could be more than just you’re best friend, that I could be more than just the girl who grew up with you. But I know now that I can’t I will always be that girl to you, that’s all you see.’‘ You say. 

 You were full on crying now, you watch his mouth open in shock probably having no idea what to say to you. You didn’t even know what to say, it seemed like after all those years it just all came out right here right now. You quickly turn back to the door and push it open making your way into the house, you notice the eyes of Shawn’s family on you as you step in the kitchen all looking at you with looks of pity. You smile at them graciously before making your way to the living room picking up your wallet and keys before trying to hurry and make it to the door, you hear the back door slam and rushed footsteps make there way from behind you which causes you to move faster. 

 ‘Y/N!’’ Shawn yells as you make it to your car, you turn around watching as he jogs over to you. ‘’Please, stay I want to talk,’’ He says. 

‘‘I can’t I don’t want to talk anymore Shawn, I told you what I needed to tell you and you do what you want with that.’‘ You say getting in your car and slamming the door. You watch as Shawn’s figure becomes smaller as you pull out of the drive way backing onto the street. 

 It felt like he gave you the answer right then and there, the fact he didn’t chase after you and told you what he meant. He didn’t explain his state of shock and that was not only hard for him but you. It just seemed like you were always gonna be just the girl he grew up with, you would never be the girl he’d fall in love with. That was okay, he didn't know and you could never blame him for being too late that was all you. You just wished that he could’ve fallen for you the way you had fallen for him, and you could only hope you’d find your way back up. 

Part 2?

Sorry I’ve been inactive:( My job has me working 9 hour shifts everyday of the week because they’re so short handed so when I come home I literally eat shower and then I’m out like a light and wake up and do it all over again. Thanks everyone for being so awesome hoping to catch up on some writing over the next week:)

[shawn-does-stuff]

SHAWN MENDES AND CAMILA CABELLO ARE THE SOUNDS OF SUMMER

Just in time for summer and their single, "Señorita," this season's biggest stars grace our digital cover.

June 21, 2019

The Internet is begging for Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello to “get together.” As two of the world’s biggest stars, who also happen to be old-time friends, the hankering for them to become this age’s Britney and Justin is both abundant and palpable. Fans obsess over public displays of adoration from one to the other, like after they each performed (separately) at the 2019 Grammys—a feat that’d been on their joint bucket lists since they were kids, “singing Ed Sheeran songs in the dressing room,” Camila tweeted that night.

Getting the two together was almost a year in the making. One pop star’s schedule? Crazed. Two? Impossible. Let’s look at what’s on the agenda. Headlines tell us Camila’s set to star in a new reimagined Cinderella, recorded “Find U” with Mark Ronson, and is finishing up a new album, while Shawn fronts Calvin Klein’s latest campaign, tours the world, and just released his latest song “If I Can’t Have You.” Thankfully, for their throngs of fans, the two did get together — just not as a couple.

Today, the two drop their joint single, “Señorita.” The irrefutable summer smash is an accruement of their songwriting talents, vocal flair, and sixth sense for pop gold that’s already landed both Cabello and Mendes on the top of international charts. What’s more is the song’s unapologetic frivolousness. Its self-aware levity is an encapsulation of where both artists stand at the moment: on top of the world, riddled with talent and a world full of stirring opportunities.

The excitement is something we all can relate to in the summer time, even if on a much smaller scale. To celebrate “Señorita,” we photographed Cabello and Mendes together (before they flew off in opposite directions) and had the two pop giants tell us all about their fruitful friendship.

Catch “Señorita” and the full interview, below.

•

Camila Cabello: Do you remember what your first impression was of me?

Shawn Mendes: That’s a great, great question.

CC: It’s a good one. I remember thinking we met on the Austin Mahone tour, and I remember I wanted to hang out with you, but you were always on the tour bus, just learning guitar.

SM: Yeah, that was me. I didn’t talk to anybody. You were the only person that talked to me. Like, you were the only one of everybody on that tour who would say words to me. Actually, I think if we go into our DM’s or something, there’s a photo from the day we met, I think.

CC: I also remember right before going on stage, I would hear you [singing].

SM: I also thought you were crazy. Insane.

CC: I am.

SM: Yeah, you are. And I thought you were out of your mind. I’d be in my bus where no one could see me. I’d be looking through the window and I’d see you like, flying around on a scooter and jumping and doing cartwheels. I’d be like, she’s insane. Close the window and go to sleep.

CC: Yeah, I was actually even crazier as a kid. My name on Facebook one time was Carla Billaba Billabong Cabello ’cause I thought I was funny. I was one of those people.

SM: You’re insane.

CC: Writing a song with someone is a vulnerable process, so how do you get over being shy about your ideas, opinions, etc. when writing with someone?

SM: I think you get over that before you even walk in the room.

CC: You do?

SM: I do.

CC: You’ve never been nervous when writing with someone?

SM: About like opening up to them?

CC: Yeah.

SM: Not about that. I get nervous about like, am I gonna be a good singer today?

CC: Really? That is so funny.

SM: Yeah, but then about the opening up, I’m okay with that.

CC: Especially if I have a lyric that’s really personal, I’m like, “Oh my god, I do not want to say this in front of five people right now.”

SM: I literally walk in and I’m like, here’s the deal, 100 percent from the top.

CC: I think I make myself do it anyway, but it’s definitely nerve-racking to me.

SM: I really trust songwriters. I don’t know why I trust them so much. I shouldn’t trust them. I tell them everything, like too much.

CC: I know. I’m the same. I’ve literally thought if somebody was voice memo-ing this conversation, my entire life—

SM: Is over. Everything.

CC: Yeah, for sure. But for me it depends what vibe someone’s giving off. I feel like if you write with someone and they’re not sensitive, then I feel weird being like, “And then this happened, and then this happened…”

SM: And they’re just like, “Okay, well, couldn’t it be simpler? Like, we’re trying to write a hit.”

CC: Yeah, exactly. Then I’m like, “Woo, shutdown.” How do you gauge the success of a new single or record outside of charts and numbers?

SM: People on the street. Like, just people. And life, like nothing to do [with] online. If you’re walking down the street, and someone’s like, “I love your new song,” that’s a thing. ’Cause I think anyone online can say things easily. But it takes someone to really love it to say it in person.

CC: I actually really like when I see little kids singing along. Like if a fan is like, “Look [at] my baby brother [singing].”

SM: Yeah, that means it’s hitting a nerve.

CC: I think that’s really cool.

SM: So, “Señorita.” I had to do it all in Spanish yesterday. It was insane.

CC: Woah, I haven’t heard it.

SM: I haven’t heard it either.

CC: Do it right now.

SM: No.

CC: Do just one line.

SM: No, I can’t even remember one line.

CC: Okay, some funny details about the song. The song is actually like eight months in the making.

SM: It took me 10 months to convince Camila to sing this with me.

CC: This is true. My fans are just absolutely gonna hate me now.

SM: Oh, they should.

CC: They’re like, “She’s so stupid.” Honestly, it just takes the right time for things to happen, I feel. You know?

SM: Yeah, 100 percent. We also did a song before…

CC: We wanted to do a song called, “I Know What You Did Last Winter” and "I Know What We Did Last Fall”.

SM: And our managers were like—

CC: They were like, “No,” and we were like, “What?!” We almost fired them. We were like, “What do you mean? How’s that not a good idea?”

SM: And the “Last Fall” was a really cool idea.

CC: It was really cool. Then we did the winter version that was like Game of Thrones version.

SM: Yeah, Game of Thrones Christmas.

CC: Yeah, and then we did Spring, which was like flowers.

SM: Yeah, but none of those worked. But “Señorita” was great. I think this is probably the most anticipation I’ve ever had to release a song. Besides “I Know What You Did Last Summer.”

CC: I know, me too. It’s actually sick though because nobody knows that it is happening. Which has been really, really cool, like that we’ve actually been able to keep a secret.

SM: Literally no one has any idea. People probably don’t even think we’re in the same place in the world.

CC: We were looking at the video for “I Know What You Did Last Summer” and we were 30-feet apart.

SM: Numb…But now this video is basically the complete opposite of that. We grew up a little bit.

CC: Yeah, I think we’ve definitely matured. I actually think when we were that age we did not know what was going on. We were just like, going through stuff.

SM: I had no idea what was going on at all times.

CC: And now I feel like I’m gonna remember this moment, as opposed to like—

SM: Back then. I think we were just doing what was right in front of us. Now, we’re like, “Okay, this is uncomfortable. Let’s do it because of that. Let’s push ourselves because it’s hard. Let’s push ourselves because its uncomfortable. And that’s making it great."

CC: What are some of your own personal goals in the next five years? Oh, how do you feel like you’ve grown as a person in the last five years?

SM: I think that all of the things I was putting importance on were so wrong. Like three years ago. Like the things I worried about and the things I was hoping people were liking and just like unnecessary stress and anxieties on things that I didn’t need to worry about…I used to get so nervous and numb about everything.

CC: I know, I used to get so nervous and kind of suffer through even good things before I was like, “So then when am I actually going to enjoy my life?”

SM: You’re like, you’re playing the Grammys—well not the Grammys, but you’re playing something, and this is like a—

CC: Actually, that was the first time I actually enjoyed the Grammys.

SM: Me too, I loved it.

CC: And I literally was like, do you know what? If this is going to be what you do 90 percent of your time, what’s the point of being miserable?

SM: 100 percent. Then what’s the point?

CC: Then just don’t do it, bitch.

SM: I was literally like that. I feel like back then, we were like, “Oh my god, I have to do my singing in the morning.”

CC: And then I realized, what’s the point? I actually realized that people’s opinions don’t actually matter to me that much. Like they don’t matter more than my experience.

SM: Exactly, yeah.

CC: That was such a big thing for me. I was like, “Okay, I’m so nervous about this interview or this session because I care what other people that I don’t know, what they think.” What’s the point? I don’t even know them.

SM: You’d go to start singing and you’d be like, I’m thinking about what people are thinking about me; I’m not even thinking about singing. Like am I literally 100 percent just thinking about what everyone’s thinking about me, and just doing the motions?

CC: Self-love is being like, “I actually just care about the experience that I’m having more than what the other person thinks of me.”

SM: 100 percent. Especially when you’re young, too. This is the time when I’m supposed to be having the most fun and not stressing.

CC: For sure. Okay, one last question. What is something that you would want to do, that’s non-music related, in your career?

SM: I want to open a coffee shop. It’s so simple but it’s like—

CC: Nice. I wanna have a podcast. I would actually love to make a podcast.

SM: Okay, me too! I actually think that would be amazing.

CC: I actually love podcasts. I never thought that I’d want to do that before.

SM: What would you talk about?

CC: Literally, I would interview people like this and just ask them completely unrelated stuff.

SM: Why don’t we do nothing that has to do with music.

CC: Or like the questions that nobody really asks. Like, “What’s like your biggest fear? What makes you cry?” The human part that you never see.

SM: “The Human,” you should call it.

CC: “The Human Experience.”

SM: Yeah, something like that.

CC: Isn’t that John Bellion’s album title?

SM: That’s his title but you should—

CC: I honestly love that, cause I actually really… like the more I grow up, I’m like you always see just the surface of what everybody’s going through. And it actually makes you feel so much more connected.

SM: What’s your biggest fear?

CC: Mine?

SM: Yeah.

CC: I think my biggest fear a lot of the time is making mistakes. I have to work on that about myself. I feel like I always am afraid to make the wrong decision. And then I’m just paralyzed. So, I feel like I have to trust more, in whatever.

SM: We have to trust in like, even if it’s the wrong decision, it’s the right one because that taught you to not do it again, which is the right thing—which is the only way it was gonna go.

(Source: https://vmagazine.com/article/v-magazine-presents-shawn-mendes-and-camila-cabello/)

[missmeikakuna]

The Girl Who Cried Gay

Rated: T-M (It's something I can see a teenager reading and enjoying but could be given a more mature rating due to the swearing and the edgy jokes the characters make.) Fandom: Original story Relationship type: F/F Description: Edgy teenager Jimena's idea of a joke is coming out to her classmates every day. The thing is, she actually is gay but is too chicken to come out for real, playing off her numerous attempts as a joke. But this time she's going to tell the truth and confess to her best friend, the equally edgy rebel Vinciane. Her plan? Write an entire song in two weeks and perform it in front of everyone. Should be easy, right?

Right? Notes:

I want to thank Tyler, the Creator for inspiring this story. Your numerous jokes about you being into dudes before coming out for real was a source of fascination for me, which is why I wrote this story. Also, Igor is a great album. Congrats on the Grammy.

For my readers, keep in mind that my opinions do not always match those of the characters. These girls say things I never would. I hope you find them entertaining.

CONTENT WARNING: There is a mention of suicide but no actual suicide, just the characters being edgelords and joking about the topic.

Jimena picked her teeth with one of the spikes on her boots, which she had shaken off as the school day drew to a close. Before that afternoon’s teacher had the chance to chastise her for her choice in outfit… again… she stood on top of the table. 

‘I’ve got something to tell you all. I…’ She wobbled a little on the table. ‘Woah, this is pretty difficult.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m gay.’

Everyone, the teacher included, rolled their eyes and resumed their in-class tasks. Vinciane leaned back in her seat as she looked up at Jimena. She watched this grand reveal with a smirk on her face that would make a lawyered-up business mogul jealous. 

Her short, dyed red hair in a sidecut was a constant source of frustration for the teachers. Jimena tried to copy it with her black hair but settled on a faux sidecut with braids. In fact, she tried to copy every aspect of her appearance, a feat made difficult by their differing body types, with Jimena being tall and thin and Vinciane being short and curvy. Both wore dark and heavy makeup, also causing a stir among the teachers. 

Vinciane almost dropped her smirk when she saw Jimena’s hands turn into trembling fists. Almost.

There was little point in being concerned since it wasn’t long before Jimena laughed and applauded herself.

‘You should have seen the looks on your faces! Get wrecked!’ She plopped back down off the table and nudged Vinciane in the ribs. ‘Lezzies for life, Vinny?’ she said, holding out her pinky finger and rivalling her smirk with her own. ‘We’ll get our own U-Haul and argue over who makes the sandwiches.’

Vinciane tied her pinky around Jimena’s. ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way. By the way, I’m making the sandwiches.’ Her accent was lightly French.

The two laughed loud enough to cause another quick lecture on manners from the teacher. Then it was Jimena’s turn to roll her eyes. Being the rebellious girl she was, she flipped the bird at her teacher… under the table.

That night, Jimena held her pillow in between her chest and her knees, slouching against her bedframe. She lifted her pinky and stared at it before bringing it to her lips in a gentle kiss. She looked at the acoustic guitar at the other end of the room, romantic lyrics flittering in her head.

The punk text tone on her bedside table sent lightning up Jimena’s spine. It was Vinciane’s favourite song. The text was accompanied by a poorly shot photo.

I put a gold bath bomb in and now the bathwater looks like piss. FML. Gonna kill myself, brb.

Jimena responded a little later than she had hoped, taking time to craft her text.

Is that a toaster in your bathtub or are you happy to see me?

Vinciane’s next text pushed Jimena’s heart up to her throat.

¿Por qué no los dos? Btw, you almost had me fooled today. Almost convinced me your verbal coming out shitpost was real. Excellent job, my love 😉

Oh, yeah. Shitpost. 

Jimena pulled her numerous blankets on top of her body and rolled around until she was caved in by warmth. It did little to bring a smile back to her face, but at least she could bury herself and perhaps never come out.

The pity party was crashed by her mother calling her to the dinner table. She had no choice but to crawl out of her blanket cocoon and enjoy a nice meal of… supermarket tacos.

Two thoughts battled for prominence in Jimena’s mind. The first was wondering how her parents could have possibly come from Mexico when they had the most Americanised tastes. 

The second was the reopening of the recent wound caused by her friend.

¿Por qué no los dos?

Her mother heard her sigh and asked her how school was. Jimena shrugged, using the beef and lettuce in her mouth as an excuse not to talk. Her mother didn’t buy it. Not that she ever could, what with Jimena resting her feet on the table and scowling at no one in particular.

After lecturing her on keeping the table clean, she asked, ‘Why must you always wear those shoes? Is this because of that girl?’

As Jimena managed to prove, swallowing food in an unambiguously angry way was something humans could do. A light clink hit everyone’s ears as she kicked the salt shaker, causing it to collide with her mother’s plate.

‘Leave her out of this,’ Jimena said in the clipped voice of someone who wanted to yell but knew she would receive a yell in return.

Her father tried to speak calmly. Emphasis on ‘tried’.‘We’re just a little concerned that you’ve, well, been acting differently since befriending her. You used to be such a bright girl. And why won’t you wear the dresses I made you?’ His voice cracked a little at the question.

‘Well, maybe you should make clothes that I actually want to wear.’

‘I don’t appreciate that tone, young lady,’ her mother chastised her, raising her voice even louder. There it was: the yell.

‘Well, you’re going to hear that tone a lot longer if you don’t shut the hell up!’ 

Jimena shouted, getting out of her seat and storming off to her room. She then went back into the dining room to retrieve her tacos and brought them to her room. 

She took her phone out and texted with one hand while holding one taco in the other.

My parents can step in dog shit while stuck in a time loop. Shit on their shoes for all eternity.

After a few minutes that felt more like fifty, Vinciane responded in an almost insultingly short text.

Mood

Rather than take the length as an insult, Jimena held her phone to her chest and giggled. She was unsure whether it was the heat from the phone or something else that made her heart feel so warm.

That sensation didn’t last long when she remembered that Vinciane lived with her aunt. She immediately texted an apology. She didn’t have to wait long before getting a message back.

Don’t sweat it. If I lived under their house, I would have to live under their rules. My aunt gets me better anyway. She’s even okay with my nose ring.

The two continued texting through the night, and not once did Jimena admit to looking forward to going to school the next day. 

The day that followed involved Vinciane skipping class and, without even asking her, being followed by Jimena. Vinciane sat by the pond, a place students weren’t allowed to be within ten feet of, and took out a cigarette. Upon seeing the horrified look on Jimena’s face, she chuckled and lowered her eyelids until they were half-closed.

‘You worried these will turn me from a dyke to a fag?’ she asked in a strong Cockney accent. ‘Don’t worry, love, I would never leave you.’ She took a drag of the cigarette and opened her eyes fully, returning to her original accent. ‘Oh, speaking of which, any guys you think are cute?’

‘None as cute as you,’ Jimena murmured, then gulped when she saw that Vinciane heard her. The stone she was sitting on started feeling mighty uncomfy.

‘No, but seriously. No one? There’s a guy who’s got my eye- what’s wrong?’

Jimena was looking down, focusing her eyes on the hem of her plaid skirt as she fiddled with it. Anything to stop tears from falling.

‘I’m gay.’ A laugh came from Jimena’s mouth out of habit. 

Vinciane joined in. ‘Yeah, yeah. So which guy do you like?’

Jimena shrugged. ‘No one at this stupid school.’

‘Fair point.’ Some of the smoke reached Jimena, who couldn’t help but cough. This earned a snicker from Vinciane. Jimena pouted and reached for the other girl’s cigarette packet. Vinciane guarded it with her free hand. ‘I don’t think you’re ready for that. Wait ‘til you stop sounding like you’re dying of tuberculosis.’

‘No way. If I’m going out, it’s gonna be human mad cow disease that takes me down.’

‘Or AIDs.’

Jimena smiled and gave Vinciane a finger gun. ‘Or AIDS.’ The two were silent for a moment as Vinciane finished her cigarette. She squished the butt into the ground and stood up, stretching her arms and yawning. 

‘Um, why exactly do you go to school anyway if you’re going to skip class?’ Jimena eventually asked.

Vinciane brushed her fingers through her hair. The sight took Jimena’s breath from her. ‘I mean, you’re here. And where else am I going to go?’

Jimena didn’t know how to respond to that, not that her airless lungs would have allowed her to respond at all. All she could really do was look away from Vinciane’s plump lips and pray that she would soon be able to breathe properly again.

A decision managed to get air pumping through her veins again. She was going to come out for real, and she was going to make it as convincing as possible.

At home that night, she jotted down ideas for this ceremony onto her notes app. The following morning, she gave Vinciane vague details about an announcement she planned to make and a song she would use to do it.

‘Is this another one of your coming out ceremonies? This might be your most over the top one yet. Looking forward to it.’

‘No, no, it’s quite different. Okay, so for the announcement song, I will sing it to you and you’ll sit there all surprised.’

‘What will you be announcing?’

‘I have to make sure you look surprised.’

‘You saying I can’t act?’ Vinciane asked as she crossed her arms.

‘That’s not what I mean! I just want the song to be a surprise to everyone, including you. I may dance around you, by the way, so don’t be surprised by that. Focus on the content.’

‘So where are you going to say… er, sing this announcement?’

‘The cafeteria at lunch, two weeks for now. That should be long enough to write and rehearse a song, right?’

‘I guess. So are you going to play the song on your acoustic guitar?’

‘I was thinking of asking the music department to borrow one of their electric guitars. I think the song would be cool with a punk edge.’

‘Good luck getting one in two weeks. And an electric guitar kind of needs a band with it, so you’ll be spending a lot of those two weeks trying to get bandmates. Won’t the song be more, I don’t know, sincere sounding if it’s acoustic?’

‘You think so? You sure it wouldn’t be fake deep? I don’t want to sound like some hipster dude trying to pick up a girl at a coffee shop.’

‘If the lyrics are sincere, an acoustic guitar will highlight them. I doubt you’ll sound pretentious.’ 

Jimena took a deep breath and put her fist in her other hand as she exhaled. ‘Okay, I’ve got this.’

Vinciane stroked Jimena’s hair, not noticing the warmth radiating from the other’s cheeks. ‘I know you do.’ 

Instead of hanging out with Vinciane, Jimena spent lunchtime putting lyrics into her phone. Vinciane kept walking up to her and trying to sneak a glance, but Jimena’s screen-covering reflexes were way too good.

At home, Jimena continued typing on her phone, even during dinner. Cue the nagging from both her parents, whom she ignored.

As she lay in bed, she tried to continue typing away but the claws of doubt picked at her brain. She sat on her side, listening to the scarce sounds surrounding her. Her ears picked up the whir of a sewing machine, a sound that pulled her up like the strings of a marionette. After listening for a while with her eyes closed, the familiarity of the sound lulled her back down onto the bed.

She knew exactly what was going on and was tempted to tell her father not to bother, but the sound softened the pillow she lay on. She let it play in the background like an ambient album full of rain sounds.

Before she could fall asleep, and boy was she tempted to, an idea popped into her head. She sat up again and grabbed her guitar, playing riffs in time with her father’s sewing. The plucking of her guitar mirrored the sound of the needle.

She made a new note on her phone and wrote new lyrics referencing the sewing terms she could remember her father mentioning. Half an hour later, she put the phone down and got into her pajamas. 

The first thing Jimena saw when she woke up was a finished dress hanging from the doorknob. A piece of paper was taped to the hanger, saying, ‘For when you perform your next song’. She smiled until she received a text from Vinciane. She pictured Vinciane scrunching her nose at her and tossed the dress next to the bin tucked in the corner of her room.

The following lunchtime, it was Take Two for Vinciane’s attempts to uncover Jimena’s lyrics. Once again, she failed.

‘Come on, can’t you show me a little bit?’

‘For the last time, no!’

A pout stayed on Vinciane’s lips for the rest of the day. 

When she dropped her backpack by her bed, Jimena saw the dress her father had made neatly folded on the bed. She sighed and threw it back towards the bin, narrowly missing it. The next few days were a pattern of the dress appearing folded on the bed and her throwing it in the bin. Each day, her father’s shoulders drooped further and further until he looked like a caveman with depression.

During those days Vinciane didn’t pry any longer and instead spent the time sitting next to Jimena and offering words of encouragement as the girl silently edited her own lyrics. She reached for Jimena’s free hand but Jimena wriggled out of her grasp to start typing with two hands.

Once again, Vinciane pouted for the remainder of the day.

Jimena practised over and over again at home, at least until her mother yelled at her to knock it off. The ‘knock it off’ point was at 10 o’clock at night. She gave her mother the middle finger but did indeed knock it off.

However, she continued adjusting the sheet music and playing the song in her head well into the night. Naturally, this led to her coming to school with bags under her eyes and little patience for Vinciane’s gestures of friendliness. Apparently a quick, non-invasive question about how the song was going was enough to set off an atomic bomb.

‘Shut it, Vinny!’

Vinciane blinked and stepped back. ‘Sorry.’

Jimena almost apologised too but couldn’t bring the words out. Vinciane made sure not to bother her until the two weeks were up.

Having her muse not by her side made it both easier and more difficult to practice the song. On the one hand, more time to herself without worrying about the secret getting out. On the other, no words of support and no one to look at when she needed a boost of inspiration. Doubt’s claws scratched at her psyche again.

That night, she sat in the dark, Vinciane’s verging-on-tears face playing over and over in her head like a scratched CD. 

The morning of the performance day was the same as usual, complete with the neatly folded dress on the bed. Jimena groaned as she shoved the dress into her backpack.

Vinciane didn’t show up at class. Alarms rang in Jimena’s ears. What if the most important audience member wasn’t there for the performance?

After changing at the beginning of lunch, she wasted valuable rehearsal time searching the school for Vinciane. She wasn’t at the pond nor behind the gardener’s shed where the druggies usually hung out. 

It was five minutes before the end of lunch by the time she found Vinciane in a classroom. The same classroom Vinciane would have been in that morning had she not skipped class.

Vinciane’s eyes popped out of their sockets upon seeing Jimena in the dress. Its colour was not unfamiliar- black, as always. However, it was frilly and lacy and buoyant, paired with knee-high socks and a little bonnet. It was utterly adorable.

As soon as the shock wore off, she glared at her. ‘Come to tell me to shut it?’ Jimena tightened her grip on her acoustic guitar. ‘Or maybe you want to take me to the cafeteria so everyone can hear the song you refused to show me.’

Jimena stepped closer and began playing the guitar. She breathed in, then out, then in again. 

‘You pull me in... like a thread caught in a sewing machine.’ She pronounced the last syllable of ‘machine’ pretty weakly to get it to rhyme with ‘in’.

She continued. ‘I don’t know where this is going. This sin.... gives me pins and needles, you’re giving me the feels. Now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.’

She strummed the guitar rapidly, sending a warm sound to a smiling Vinciane. ‘I’m really sorry if I’m bursting at the seams. It’s so hard standing next to the girl of my dreams. When you’re edgy, I keep folding like a hem. It’s so hard to admit that you’re my favourite femme.’

Vinciane’s cheeks went red while Jimena’s playing slowed down. ‘Your jokes leave me in stitches but my foot’s in my mouth. I want to tell you how I feel but I don’t know how.’

Jimena circled around Vinciane’s chair, speeding up her strumming. Her heart was beating faster than the song but, for the first time, she wasn’t going to back out now.

She returned to the tune she started with. ‘Well, I’m as straight... as the hem of a big swing skirt. Don’t hate, I’m not looking to get hurt. A date... would be wonderful, don’t judge. My feelings simply won’t budge and I feel like this might as well be fate.’

It was time for the outro. ‘No, this is no joke. No this is no prank. I’m gay as fuck and with some luck, I got you in my ranks. This is the real me and yes, my heart is true. I’m not that tough, it’s all a bluff. Just know that I like you.’

Vinciane looked into Jimena’s eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She stood up and whispered in her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

‘You didn’t need to act tough, you know. I’d have liked you either way.’

‘Um, so about that guy you have your eye on-’ Jimena asked.

‘Oh, that?’ Vinciane’s smirk returned as she put her index finger against her own lips. ‘That was a lie. Just wanted to test the waters, plus I didn’t know how to tell you. You won’t get mad at me for that, right?’

Jimena shook her head and then rubbed the back of her neck. ‘So, uh, how does a date sound?’

‘Make it two. Then we can get a U-Haul. I’m still making the sandwiches, by the way. I’ve seen you in Home Ec and you kind of suck in the kitchen.’

Jimena giggled and grabbed her hand as the two walked out of the classroom. ‘Sounds like a plan. But for now, we should just focus on how to convince everyone else that we’re a couple for real this time.’

Vinciane shrugged. ‘Does it matter? I know and you know. Who cares what the others think?’

The bell rang and Vinciane followed Jimena into another classroom. During class, they spent less time listening to the teacher and more times sneaking glances at each other. Vinciane played with the ribbon attached to Jimena’s bonnet, twirling the pretty fabric around her finger. Jimena ran her kitten-heeled shoe over the spikes on Vinciane’s boot, smiling at the rough sound.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

ORIANTHI's New Album Will Include Lyrical Contribution From MÖTLEY CRÜE's NIKKI SIXX

Australian guitarist Orianthi (ALICE COOPER, RSO, Michael Jackson) has confirmed to the "Australian Rock Show" that she has completed work on fourth solo album.

"I'm so excited about this record — really excited," she said (hear audio below). We did it in 28 days in Nashville. [I made the record with] Marti Frederiksen, who's a dear friend of mine, an amazing songwriter, producer. I just go out to Nashville, where my management is at, and I love it over there. I made actually my last record too, with Dave Stewart there, at Blackbird [studio]. There's some kind of energy in Nashville — it's just a great feeling when you get there. So many musicians are there. And we just jumped right into the studio. Marti and I wrote and recorded, in 28 days, all the songs. And, yeah, it was just a great, fun experience."

Regarding the musical direction of her new material, Orianthi said: "This record is not too much of a departure from my past stuff, but it is different. So I think people will get what they sort of expect, with that heavy riffage and big solos, but there's a lot of different sounds going on and textures, with drum loops and synths. It's not just staying with one tone throughout the whole record… There's some heavy tracks on there. There's some lighter tracks [and] bluesy tracks. As I said, it's different, but it's kind of what people were sort of expecting.

"The thing is you have to keep on evolving and changing," she explained. "You don't make the same record over and over again; I would just bore the hell out of myself and everyone else. So I wanna keep on changing. And I'm already thinking about the next record right now. Marti+- and I are writing next week for it."

Asked if all the songs for the follow-up to 2013's "Heaven In This Hell" were written specifically for this project or there were some which she had previously written that were later "finessed for inclusion," she said: "A couple were finessed, but pretty much the majority of them were just all written for this record. A song called 'Sinners Hymn', which I had for a minute, I brought that in, and we added the chorus to it, 'cause it had a different chorus, and made it sound a little heavier. And I think that's kind of it. 'Cause the rest of it was just written all for this record. And one was written with Nikki Sixx from MÖTLEY CRÜE, which was amazing. [He wrote] killer lyrics. He e-mailed them to me, and I was, like, 'Woah! These are amazing.' So, yeah, we wrote a song with those lyrics — Marti and I. I'm really excited for everybody to hear this record. And hopefully they dig it as much as we enjoyed making it."

According to Orianthi, she has yet to pick the first single from her upcoming album. "There's a couple that I'm thinking of right now," she said. "I don't know. I've talked to the label about it, 'cause there's gonna be an announcement soon from the label. And then we're gonna decide upon which one or two songs we put out. I kind of wanna put out two songs, 'cause it's been a while since I've put out music. But we'll see what makes sense and what's right. It's a team discussion with everybody."

Orianthi's new LP does not yet have an official release date, but it will likely arrive before the end of the year.

Over a year ago, Orianthi recorded a song called "Love Bomb" with producer Paul Dawson, who had previously worked with Rihanna, Ariana Grande, P Diddy, Justin Bieber, Jay Z and many more.

Born in Australia, Orianthi was inspired to learn guitar at a young age after discovering her father's vinyl collection. She rose to international fame at age 24 after the release of her hit single "According To You" and a high-energy performance backing Carrie Underwood at the 2009 Grammy Awards. Although she had already been invited to jam with the likes of Carlos Santana and Steve Vai, mainstream audiences had not previously heard of this captivating guitar prodigy.

Her recognition increased even further when Michael Jackson called with an offer to be his guitarist for his dates at the O2 Arena in London. Although the concert series was not to be, the release of the behind-the-scenes documentary "Michael Jackson's This Is It" showcased Orianthi's masterful playing as well as her creativity and collaboration.

[happymetalgirl]

Toothgrinder - I AM

I was first exposed to Toothgrinder through their live set when they opened for Code Orange and (the one and only) Meshuggah in early 2018. Code Orange’s Forever was my favorite album of the previous year, and Meshuggah (as I make obvious every time I write about them), who I can’t deny I’m just enigmatically enamored by, is undoubtedly my favorite band. So I was primarily there to see those two acts, with Toothgrinder an added bonus. Their set was alright as a warm-up for the madness that Code Orange and Meshuggah conjured in the crowd, but I honestly came away less inclined to check out their studio work (which I usually try to do before seeing a band live). Because they made it onto a bill with two other great bands, one being Meshuggah, however, I felt just enough more intrigue to see what they sounded like in their studio form. I checked out the band’s 2016 debut album, Nocturnal Masquerade, and I got a much better idea of what helped land them on a touring docket with two bands heading to the Grammys later that week. The band took a respectably pounding, yet dynamic approach to the sounds of progressive djent, with a modern hardcore edge giving them a vibrance all their own. Their sophomore album that came out in 2017, Phantom Amour, took a Periphery-esque turn for the more melodic, but the band walked the tightrope of accessible melodic stylings with a similar knack for dynamic that made Nocturnal Masquerade as engaging as it was helping to make their foray into more melodic territory a consistently well-composed one. So despite my being unconvinced by their live performance, their studio works had me pretty eagerly anticipating their third album here, I AM.

I had likened the band’s dabbling in melody and accessible rock elements on Phantom Amour to a tightrope walk, and I AM shows why. This is probably one of the most subtle tweaks of methodology yielding such a dramatic downward shift of form I have seen from a band this year. While Phantom Amour always seemed to be just pulling off these wins from track to track in these familiar and dangerously radio-esque styles that the band seemed lucky to be excelling in, I AM shows what a disaster the deeper commitment to radio friendliness did to their sound. By this point I’m sure a lot of people who read my posts consistently think I might have a cardinal vendetta against anything on the radio by default, but I honestly don’t, I love some good simple-but-effective song-writing, and Phantom Amour was a magnificently balanced example of that. But this album has me thinking that Phantom Amour, as strong as it was, has led Toothgrinder astray, or that it was a beautiful fluke. For all the gimmicky nonsense of the song titles and their unconventional capitalizations, I AM is so painfully bogged down by radio rock clichés and compositions of the most formulaic kind. The choral “woahs” on the opening track don’t give theclearly intended arena intensity and just get old really fast, while Justin Matthews’ Chester Bennington imitation constantly gives the songs Linkin Park cosplay vibes. But even in their darker days, I have a hard time imagining Linkin Park touching the drab melodies of the intro track, the generic alt-rocker, “No Tribe” and “no surrender in The House Of Leaves”, or the embarrassingly sappy, falsetto-led, electro-production-driven smartphone-waver “My Favorite Hurt”, while the overproduced ballad “shiVer” sounds like it belongs on top 40 radio alongside fucking Shawn Mendez.

The band give a brief three-track flash of the volatility and mastery of melody that they showed they could harness on “The New Punk Rock”, “too soft for the scene, TOO MEAN FOR THE GREEN”, and “Can Ü Live Today?”, but it’s not enough to save the overwhelming majority of failed tracks that precede it.

God this thing was so disappointingly stereotypical and formulaic from a band who were bringing such life to this format of rock and metal; to hear them sucked into the vortex of radio rock playability and the long-expired clichés in that field is just disheartening. I wish there were more to say about this album,though honestly, I wish there was something to discuss and elaborate on, some silver lining to try to draw out of this album, but beyond the brief return to form late in the album, I AM is a worthless pine for mainstream crossover by imitating past successes and aping some current trends, with no redeeming qualities or beneficial progression to look forward to in any department. This is a dumbing down of massive proportions if I have ever seen one this year.

tOoThGrInDeR - i aM/10

[bts-svt-mx]

Maid For You (Part 2) Taehyung x Reader

Author: bts-svt-mx

Taehyung x Reader

Jungkook x Reader

Rating: Fluff, M, eventual smut if i get to it lol

Tags: Slow burn, Enemies to Lovers AU, Idol! Taehyung, Taehyung x Reader, Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok, mentions of other members

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 (M), 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Word Count: 2,000

Description: Wanting to get out of your parents house and experience what the world had to offer is way more expensive than people tell you it will be. So when your glamorous “manager to the stars” cousin Hoseok hooks you up with a  job as the live-in maid for a hillside, massive mansion, you feel as though life might actually be looking up. That is until the mansion’s absentee high profile celebrity owner surprises you by moving back in leaving you to wonder if this mansion is big enough for you and his huge ego. 

“Not that I’m not enjoying the show… but may I ask,” Kim Taehyung, Grammy winning world famous pop star, looks you up and down as his features twist into something more stern, angry even. “Who are you and what are you doing in my house?”

You were going to kill Hoseok.

Chapter 2:

They say to never meet your idols, and after today, you think you know why.

There you are, in front of one of your favorite singers in the whole world and all you can do is stand there looking like a cat caught with his hand in the fishbowl.

The utter look of displeasure plastered on his face made you feel uneasy.  You can’t help but stare blankly at him taking in his rude tone of voice.

Is this real? Have the chemicals just gotten to your head? You thought you had read the labels and made sure they were safe but you probably should have opened up a window or- “Hello?” Snap, snap, snap. Kim Taehyung’s hand is now directly in front of your face snapping repeatedly.  “What, are you suddenly mute now?” He scoffs moving out of your immediate personal space once again.

Curse your awkward staring. You always knew you had a bad habit of staring off into space. And today that space just happened to be occupied by your favorite idol in the world. “Y-you hired me.” It comes out kind of like a squeak but you speak up again, voice a little shaky from the surprise he just gave you. “I’m Y/N…” His face is still blank. Zero recognition going through his brain. “The live in maid...” You continue. Shouldn’t he know who he hired to take care of his home? Or at least know your name if he didn’t know your face? This whole situation is so awkward. You were in your pajamas still for goodness sake!

You blame stupid Hoseok.

Taehyung’s stare that once made your knees weak a year ago makes your stomach settle weirdly now that it’s actually directed towards you. He’s like a photograph come to life. A beautiful, rude picture. God, why did he have to open up his mouth and ruin it?

“I didn’t hire you.” Taehyung spits. “My manager did.”  He leisurely walks around the room picking up random things and analyzing them. It’s odd. He looks as though he’s never seen this place before. He looks... out of place.

“Just like he does everything without my permission,” he mumbles, almost as an afterthought. Looking over to you, a slight smirk creeps over his once unreadable expression. “And where did he find you? Craigslist?”

Your jaw literally drops. How dare he ask you a question like that? You would think he’d be a little bit more considerate since you’re pretty much strangers. Obviously he doesn’t know his basic manners or how to be a decent person for that matter.

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s blatant rudeness. It’s like a light switch. 0 to 100. Your blood begins to boil.

It’s official, you’re pissed.

Well this is definitely not what you always imagined meeting him would be like. More like you imagined you’d run into him on the side of the street, him knocking you over. And he’d catch you before falling to the ground, look into your eyes and- well.. that fantasy popped like a pink bubblegum bubble stretched too far. The initial shock and excitement of coming face to face with your favorite idol had subsided and now you were just angry at his disrespect and quite frankly, kind of offended for Hoseok’s sake too.

He’s back on the other side of the kitchen, analyzing a red and olive colored ceramic rooster and for a moment, you think you see a look of relief and soft eyes before he picks up a similar ceramic frog next to it and cringes at it’s ugly yellow/green color. There he is, looking so nonchalant, not even caring how blunt he is being in the moment. Not even caring how his words might hurt you.

Standing up straighter you find your voice again. You don’t care who he is. You weren’t going to take this disrespect from him. “Your house would have looked like the Haunted Mansion by now if it wasn’t for me cleaning this massive place while you were out for months wasting money and partying it up in a different country every day.”

His gaze quickly snaps back to you, surprise reflecting in his face from your more than un-lady like tone of voice. What? So he can talk to you like you’re nothing but you can’t do the same back to him?

“And Hoseok’s a good man,” you continue.  “He works his ass off to make sure you’re happy every day which I’m sure can’t be an easy job.”

It’s true. Hoseok can’t really talk about his clients but he does tell you about how exhausted they make him. Hoseok never really lets it get to him though and you know he bounces back quickly, but still. No one disrespects your family like that.

“So who are you to blame him for hiring a damn housekeeper for you while you’re away?” you sputter out quickly. Woah Y/N. Where did all of this aggression come from? He had only really said 3 or 4 things to you. Granted, every one of those things was something insulting. Your confidence began to falter again. His hard gaze on you was making you self conscious. Tearing your eyes away from his for the first time, you look down and toy with the hem of your Mickey Mouse pajama shirt.

Wait, no. Look up again Y/N, you can’t give him the feeling he’s winning here.

“And who are you to make me feel like I’m the one intruding here?” You add, trying to fake more confidence. Voice raising to a yell. “You know nothing about me or this house. You look like you’ve never even seen this place before!”

Your own words hit your ears with a boom as they bounce off of the marble walls. Shit.. that was probably too far. Ugh. Why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut? You were so going to be fired after this. Goodbye to the freedom of the city, hello Mom and Dad’s house. Again.

Using both of his hands to push himself off of the edge of the countertop he’s leaning on, he scoffs. Expression once again unreadable. A closed book with no title.

“Of course I know you,” He speaks, eyes narrowing.

Slowly, he makes his way over to the refrigerator where you stand. You don’t know how, but he’s clearly taken back the control in this conversation.

Suddenly you feel small again. Obviously he isn’t used to being questioned and you just had to go ahead and run your mouth. 

“You’re just another fangirl desperately pulling any strings she can to get close to me.” He explains laughing slightly, but devoid of any real humor. It’s at this point you realize how tall and broad he is. Towering over you in the physical sense and also in the metaphorical sense. Closer and closer he walks. Suffocating you like a snake coiling around its prey.

His lips curl into a condescending smirk as he places his hand flat against the freezer door effectively trapping you in. “What? Do you actually believe in your insane, obsessed mind that you would have a chance with me if you got close to me?” His eyes scan your face, assessing just how much his words are affecting you. There’s hatred in his voice. Though for you or for himself, you’re not quite sure.

His face is so close. You could feel his breath on your cheek. Surprisingly very minty with a hint of jasmine, you think. And his cologne… Not too overwhelming but definitely distinct enough where you were certain you’d be able to pick it out anywhere from now on. It melted through the air, wrapping around you slowly until it was all that you could focus on.

Woah... it was really messing with your brain.

His other hand reaches out to move a strand of your hair that had fallen out of your bun while dancing just a few moments ago. Effectively ripping you out of your former lifestyle being the pseudo owner of this huge mansion and thrusting you into your reality of being a full time maid.

Because really, that was all you were.

Sure, you had your fun living in this house by yourself with all the freedom in the world at your fingertips. But did you expect it to last forever?

You don’t want it to, but your heart chooses this moment to start beating like it’s about to pop out of your chest. The look he’s giving you right now.. you know it well. And you’re sure it’s the one he uses to get any girl he wants, whenever he wants.

The only thing connecting the two of you physically is his fingers threaded around the strand of your hair. You might as well have been fully pressed against each other with the amount of heat you feel creeping up inside of you. And though you don’t really want to admit it, you have to physically restrain yourself from pushing yourself into him by gripping firmly onto the refrigerator door handle behind you.

“Well, you are quite pretty,” You didn’t know it was possible but his voice drops to an even lower octave. Vibrating through your chest as he speaks. 

He’s considering his next words carefully. Gaze following the lines of your face. Eyes meeting eyes, moving across the map of your face to your nose, your reddened cheeks, then finally landing on your lips.

“Maybe if you don’t turn out to be a complete psycho I might actually fuck you.” His eyes dark, smirk still plastered on his face. “You know, to get you out of my way and save us both some time.”  

What you thought was your heart about to burst out of your chest turned out to be a fit of laughter causing Taehyung to recoil quickly, pulling his hands from the side of your head and away from your hair out of surprise. His face contorting into something of a mix between confusion and disgust as you cackled in his face. You almost couldn’t get your next sentence out as you doubled over laughing.

“See...” More laughing. Any feelings of lust caused by his entrancing scent now replaced with amusement in an instant. “That’s where you’re wrong,” Even more laughing. Wow, it’s been a while since you laughed this much.

“I could give less of a fuck about who you are.” You say mocking his vulgar word choice. A few more giggles leaving your lips. Okay, it was a lie. You’ll admit that. The you of last year would have been freaking out about who was in front of the present day you right now. But the situation you were in is just so ironic! You had dreamed about meeting Taehyung for a couple of years now and now that it has actually happened, it’s so completely the opposite of what you had always played out in your head that it was almost… well, yeah actually it was just hilarious.

Who would've thought the world’s sweetheart would be such a complete and total douchebag?  

“Hoseok didn’t even tell me who owned this place.” You tried to catch your breath as the giggles finally subsided.  “I just needed easy money and a place to sleep. Hell, I don’t even know what you do for a living!” Okay, that’s another lie but honestly, who really cares at this point. Clearly the respect and love for him you had before was just of the image he portrayed to the media. 

That was not the man standing in front of you right now. And it made you more than a little angry. What’s a little white lie at this point when he’s been lying to the whole world for who knows how long?

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” You push yourself away from in front of the refrigerator putting the mop in the small cleaning supply closet a few steps away. Taehyung hasn’t moved an inch. Now it’s his turn to be speechless. “I have a job to continue doing seeing as I’m the main person making sure your house doesn’t end up looking like an abandoned dump with all the dust the piling up from no one EVER USING ANYTHING HERE,” You practically scream the last part in his direction, words reverberating off the walls once again as you turn swiftly on your heel to head rather quickly to your room on the West side of the mansion.

You had a phone call to make.

<-- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter -->

[fmhiphop]

5 Rappers Who Passed On Hit Beats

Legendary producer Young Guru recently discussed how Memphis Bleek passed on Black Rob’s hit single, “Woah”.  There have been plenty of rappers who have passed over beats that eventually became hit records. Here are five rappers that passed over beats that became hits! Pusha T and “Niggas in Paris” The anthem for the infamous Watch the Throne album could’ve sounded differently.  The Grammy award-winning song could’ve been in Pusha T’s catalog.  Hit-Boy made the beat and then sent it to Kanye.  Kanye turned around and send it to Pusha.  The Virginia rapper wasn’t feeling the beat because it sounded like a video game to him.  This song turned out to be the best rap song and best rap performance of that year.  Kanye insisted that Pusha get on it because it was going to be a hit in the club.  At the time, Pusha says he wasn’t into that.  He was more into gritty, tough, street records. https://twitter.com/kayogottrends/status/1548303289002778626?s=46&t=5vrXAi9xdNB5MK32nzrssg Diddy and “0-100” In 2015, Diddy and Drake got into a little scuffle outside of LIV nightclub.  It was over Drake’s hit song, “0 to 100”.  Diddy wanted Drake to ghostwrite over the Boi-1da beat.  They both had the beat at the same time.  It was planned that Drake was going to write the record for Diddy, but it was taking too long.  So, Drake wrote and recorded his own version.  Diddy didn’t take that too kindly which led to him punching the Champagne Papi.  Good thing, they have put things behind them. Ghostface Killah and “Girls, Girls, Girls” Just Blaze, legendary engineer, and producer, discussed Jay-Z’s hit off The Blueprint.  He says “Girls, Girls, Girls” was originally made for Ghostface Killah.  In fact, that was what the beat was called in his Protools, “Ghostface”.  Kanye was also involved with this beat as he praised Ghostface Killah’s rap career.  Kanye and Just Blaze loved Ghostface just like everyone else as they made beats inspired from Ghostface’s albums.  Just Blaze hoped to give it to Ghostface one day, but he played it for Jay-Z one day and he instantly wanted to record over it.  It became a hit record, and years later Just Blaze admitted to Ghostface about the “Girls, Girls, Girls” beat and he replied that he knew that beat was meant for him. Fat Joe and “Candy Shop” 50 Cent might have to thank Fat Joe for one of his biggest hits.  Producer Scott Storch gave Fat Joe, the “Candy Shop” beat before it was in 50 Cent’s hands.  At the time, the Bronx rapper just released his hit single, “Lean Back” and did not want to do a similar song.  50 Cent heard the beat and Fat Joe told Scott Storch to let him have it.  In fact, this beat was made while Fat Joe was in the studio with Storch.  Fat Joe has credited himself with being a producer on the track alongside Storch.  His song “My Fofo” is sampled on it as he helped put the intro and sounds together.  Scott Storch and Fat Joe’s wife recognized that the record would be a hit.  Fat Joe disagreed and eight months later, “Candy Shop” was all-over hip-hop radio. https://twitter.com/femaleraproom/status/1438635285416484869?s=46&t=5vrXAi9xdNB5MK32nzrssg The Notorious B.I.G. and “Doin’ It” The Notorious B.I.G. almost had another big hit under his belt.  Producer Rashad Smith produced the “Doin It” beat with the Brooklyn rapper in mind.  In fact, there’s a sample in the beginning of the song that goes “Go Brooklyn”.  This was going to be the first single for the “Life After Death” album, but unfortunately never happened.  Money was the main issue as Diddy at the time only wanted to pay $10k for the beat.  Meanwhile, Queens rapper LL Cool J heard the beat and was willing to pay $25k for it!  Let’s just say Diddy nor Biggie was too happy when LL got the beat. Written by: Brandon Simmons Read the full article

[harryslibra-blog]

A Visit To The Past

(Y/N) and Harry broke up when he started his solo career three years ago.

What he finds the hardest is that the person he knew better than himself once is now sitting there and he has no idea what to say, he has no idea what’s going on in your life or what’s happened in the previous three years that you both spent separately.

Him calling you the way he did years ago is too much to handle for you, you buried those memories too deep inside now all off them suddenly floating on the surface is suffocating you.

Hope you enjoy it. xx

High heel boots are not made for days like this and you should always take your umbrella with you in fall just in case if it rains, like it does now. You are trying to make your way through the crowded street, as quick as possible but you’re already late. You should’ve been there half an hour ago and you hate it. You hate the feeling of something might go wrong anytime and being late doesn’t really make you feel better about it. Your hair gets all wet as the rain accelerates and you try to push it off your face, the drops making it almost impossible for you to see where you’re going. You can spot some umbrellas flying around like dementors in of the wind.  

Almost there, only two more blocks and you’ll make it you think as you quicken your steps. After you run past a cafe just around the corner, with a loud ‘splosh’ you literally jump in a puddle and hear a “Wo-woah!” at the same time. Feeling the water leaking in through your boots to soak your freezing feet, you look around to see the person you splashed water with. “Oh god, I’m so sor- ” your words get stuck between your lips as your eyes meets with the young mans standing in front of you. He is holding a black umbrella, wearing pointed brown boots and a black, long overcoat that looks more expensive than a collage tuition.

   "Y/N?“ His expression giving away the fact that he is as surprised as you.

  "Harry…” you say almost too quiet you hardly hear your own voice and he smiles. You force to keep your eyes open as the rain starts beating your skin faster but you only vaguely feel it.

  A couple seconds of awkward silence later he smiles and you can’t help but sigh as his smile is even better than you remember how it was. “(Y/N), you’re soaking wet,” he gestures the cafe you just run past, “Wanna wait somewhere until the rain calms down?”

  You find yourself following Harry into the cafe, there’s not many people inside and you can already see some of them recognizing the popstar that’s walking in. Water dripping from the bottom of your coat, Harry walks towards a table. You take a seat, taking off your coat and trying not to avoid his gaze on you. “It’s so good to- I mean I’d never thought that I’d run into you.” He says and finally your eyes meets his once more.

  “It’s good to see you too.” you say back. Waiter comes before he says anything else. He orders an Americano and you order just water, your stomach feels like anything other than water wouldn’t be welcomed in there. “So you live in New York now?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” you say. “I was in Seattle for some time for work, I had to move in to New York two months ago.” Leaving the reason why you moved in blank. You take another sip from your bottle of water as you feel as if the diamond ring on your finger tightens. You can’t ignore the slight tremble of your hands and all of your memories of trying to forget the guy who’s sitting in front of you fills in your thoughts.

  “You always loved New York.” he says with a genuine smile on his lips and you confirm with a nod. As a loud thunder makes you look out from the window, Harry takes a proper look on your diamond ring and his smile fades a little. What he finds the hardest is that the person he knew better than himself once is now sitting there and he has no idea what to say, he has no idea what’s going on in your life or what’s happened in the previous three years that you both spent separately. Hates that he has to act like he’s not the one who knows how you squeak whenever you see a kitten, how you can’t sleep with socks and without something covering your belly, how you never kiss only one cheek of a person because you believe it brings bad luck so you kiss them both, how you curl the toes on your right feet more than the left when your orgasm hits you and how you loved him leaving bruises on your skin where no one else can see. Most importantly, how you loved him and he loved you once. “So, you’re engaged.” he blurts out and mentally curses at himself for opening up a matter that he doesn’t want to hear anything about.

  You look down at your ring like you see it for the first time too and force a smile that you feel ashamed of because you don’t feel happy at the moment. “Oh- yes.” you mumble. Harry still has the same effect on you, you feel a pulling force inviting you to be closer to him. His hair is shorter now but the small curls are still visible behind his ears, his jawline got even sharper it that’s possible and he still wears too many rings on his fingers. She recognizes the one with a rose carved on top and it was your birthday gift to him years ago. You want to tell him the first six month of your break up was the hardest time of your life, tell him that you still keep the necklace he bought to you locked in a box in her bedroom, how sometimes you find yourself thinking about him out of the blue, how the color yellow always reminds you of him and you listened both of his albums, every single song and knows some of them are about you and you’re truly proud of him for making it this far though you’re not surprised cause you always knew he would. But instead you say, “I was trying to get to my wedding dress rehearsal but…” You look out from the large window of the cafe once more. “It seems impossible.” Funny, how you were running in the streets only minutes ago like your life depended on it but now it seems like - just a rehearsal - nothing important.

  Harry looks at her, his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. He feels guilty. Like her getting married is everything going wrong in this world and he is the reason she’s doing it. Because he gave up all those years ago. “Congrats.” he says in the most insincere way.

  “Thanks. Well congrats on your two Grammys.” you smile, desperately trying to change the topic and he shows you a beautiful smile, dimples carving his cheeks and you want to put your fingertips on them, it used to make him smile every single time you did. Uncomfortable silence surrounds you as you spin your ring on your finger without noticing. You are thrilled about your wedding, really, going over every single detail again and again. Harry is the only person you wouldn’t want to talk about it. You hate to talk about it with him. “So how’s working with-” you start but don’t have a chance to finish.

  “I always thought we’d end up together, Muppet.” he interrupts, realizing he didn’t use the pet name for years and how warm it makes him feel to say it again.

  His words catching you off guard you almost drop the water bottle. “Harry…” you say before a loud sigh, you should not be sorry and definitely not feel like crying because of what he says. Him calling you the way he did years ago is too much to handle for you, you buried those memories too deep inside now all off them suddenly floating on the surface is suffocating you. “Please.” you whisper.

  “I know,” he pulls on his hair and you remember doing it, how soft his brown curls felt between your fingers and how he liked it when you did it whilst he had you beneath him. “Fuck, I know this is selfish of me (Y/N)! But - but look at you, I mean you’re getting married.”

  “Harry-”

  “I always expected a call from you, every damn night for three days. I didn’t want to be the one to call because that much of a selfish twat I am.” His grip tightens around the coffee cup. “You were out there… I’d always hoped that you were happy but not…” happy with someone else. His voice trails of and your lips tremble as you try to let your breath go through the lump in your throat. You watched him hang out with women, have short term girlfriends throughout the previous years, saw photos of him hand in hand with other girls, smiling at the flashing lights. You’ve made yourself believe that he didn’t miss you, even though the last words you heard from him three years ago was “I love you, Muppet. I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”. For years you imagined seeing him, talking to him, you fantasized about the ways he’d come running back to you but now it hurt so much to hear everything he said. With the way you two broke up, you never had a closure, always had that small thought of being back together with Harry leaking in through your head at the most inappropriate times of some nights. You wanted to keep him away and even hate him for a long time but you had no reason to do so. He is Harry, your Harry. At least he once was your Harry. The person who made you feel the most alive.

  “I missed you.” you say after a moment. “Hell, I still miss you Harry.” Harry looks up at you like a three year old boy who’s just been told after a boring day at home he can finally go outside to play. “But sometimes two people are just not meant to happen.”

  “So, you’re saying it’s faith.” he snorts a chuckle and shakes his head.

  “What exactly do you expect me to say?” you whisper-shout at him and put your elbows on the hard wooden table. “You were the one to end it Harry, you said you were not ready and went to Jamaica-” just as your voice was getting louder and Harry’s widened eyes were looking sadder every passing second you stop yourself. “No, no. It’s too late to have this conversation.” you say, mostly to yourself as you look up to prevent your tears from falling down on your cheeks. “I’m getting married in three months.”

  Harry looks at you as you look into your hands on the table and try to calm yourself down. You want to flip the table, slap him right in the face for leaving you and then slap yourself for giving up too easily, shout everything you felt and still feel about him, every heartbreak, every anger, everything. But it would get you nowhere, nothing could take back the time and undo all the things you both had done.

  “Will I be invited to the wedding Muppet?” he asks and you can’t help but chuckle just before a tear drops on your hand, he reaches and wipes it off with his thumb.

  “No.” You say and his smile grows bigger, a sad one though.

  “I’d love to see you in a wedding dress.” he says truthfully. “But I don’t think you’d be able to say your 'I do’ with me around.”

  You slap his hand playfully and he grimaces. “You ass!” you laugh but the possibility of what he said to be true is making your stomach turn. You realize the rain is slowing down outside and take a deep breath. “The rain…”

  Harry looks out. “Yeah.” he mumbles. A part of him wishes the rain to turn into a blizzard and locking you two in for the rest of the eternity. He is not ready to let you go yet but the ring on your finger telling him you’re already gone. You are not his (Y/N), not his Muppet anymore. He bites the inside of his cheek with the thoughts he wouldn’t want to dig deeper. They look at each other, waiting for the other one to make a move. Harry takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to invite you to dinner but you’re quicker.

  “So…” you say and force a smile. “I think I should get going. (Y/F/N) will be coming for dinner and- were you gunna say something?”

  “No.” He quickly shakes his head and despises the faceless man who’s named (Y/F/N) with no right. “It’s alright. It was great, it is… I mean this-”

  “I know Harry.” you say softly and slowly get up from your seat. “It was great for me too.”

  You both stand up and look at each other and you realize he even got broader now and short hair suits him, but you miss the long waves. “Be happy Muppet.” he says.

  “You too Harry.” you say and lean up to place a kiss on his cheek, than the other which makes him smile. He changed his perfume, you can tell but there is still something same about his smell. A faint smell it is and it’s still so familiar and leaving a tingling sensation in your stomach. You mean it though, you want him to be happy.

  “Excuse me?” You both turn to look at the third person who get into the frame of two. “I’m sorry to interrupt but is it possible to- uhm-” She’s a young girl holding her phone in her hand timidly.

  “Yeah,” Harry says understanding and smiles politely.

  “Let me.” You say and take the phone from the girl, they stand next to each other and Harry kisses her on the cheek as you take the photo. She’s shaking you can tell and cheeks flushed with excitement.

  “Thank you!” she says. “Thank you so much, it’s great to meet you Harry.” Just then she turns to you. “you too (Y/N).” You don’t know what to say for a moment, you almost forgot how it is to be around him and you’re his ex-girlfriend so most of his old fans know about you. You try to hide your nervousness and put a smile on your face as polite as Harry’s. “Are you- are you two back together?”

  “Oh, no.” you say right away. “This is just…”

  “A visit to the past.” Harry says. Such a true phrase it is, a passage, a window to the past. A loophole to bring her back in time, a needed one, she feels sad happy and relieved at the same time. She had many thoughts about seeing him again but it happening this spontaneous way is better than you imagined it would be.

  The girl says her goodbyes and leaves, you watch her go before turning your gaze back yo Harry.

  “It’s a goodbye then.” You say, it’s a closure. But it doesn’t feel like it, there is a voice telling her he will always be a part of her life.

  “It is.” he says and smiles down at you. “I hope this is not the last time I see you, Muppet. Next time I want you to be pregnant to your fifth child and all happy and peachy.” he says. “Even if it kills me I want to see you happiest.”

  You laugh at his words about being pregnant at her fifth child and nod. “Goodbye Harry.” You say.

  “Goodbye Muppet.”

  ***

  Ten minutes of walk after the farewells with Harry, you take your phone out and see (Y/F/N) called you a dozen times. “Shit!” you dial his number and the familiar voice speaks.

  “(Y/N)! Thank god! Where were you, I’ve been calling you almost for an hour? I thought something bad happened since the last time I called you said the rainstorm was getting worse.” he says.

  “I’m alright.” you say calmly. “I’m going home, I couldn’t make it to the dress rehearsal.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “Nope. I just… ran into an old friend and waited for the storm to end.” You will tell him about seeing Harry, when you’re face to face.

  “Alright. Don’t walk home please just take a cab, your clothes must be soaking I don’t want you to get cold.” His voice is so soft you smile again.

  “Okay, baby.”

  “See you at home then, be careful. I love you.”

  Your steps stop and you look up at the sky. Traveling back in time from three years before to reality. “I love you too, I really do.”

  ***

  Harry sits alone in his hotel room, on the bed wearing only his boxers and a glass of red wine in his hand. “Yeah, for tomorrow.” He says to the phone and takes a sip from the glass. “Excellent. 2:30. Alright, thank you.” He hangs up and leans against the bed head, cold wood feeling odd against his skin but also soothing. There’s a feeling, an ache in his chest and he knows he’s ought to feel, so he doesn’t complain or try to numb it.

  His phone vibrates, his sisters name popping up on the screen. “Hey Gem.”

  “Just saw your message H, since it’s two in the morning there I’m assuming it really fucked you up.” Her voice hoarse with sleep.

  “It did.” he admits and stares at the TV that is not even turned on. He hears his mothers voice behind Gemma’s and Anne wants to say hi to him so Gemma hands her the phone with a huff. “Hi mum.”

  “Harry, why are you awake at this late dear?” Anne’s voice is sweet but concerned.

  “I’m coming home tomorrow.” he says dryly.

  “I thought you were going to be in New York for a few weeks at your break.” she says.

  Harry shakes his head, he just wants to feel warm and home. He needs the comfort of his home to go through the heartbreak only he caused. “I miss home.” and her… “and you mum.”

  “Oh, baby…”

***

PART II

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