#fastlove

[pheere]

Fastlove (1996)

[louisbxne]

GEORGE MICHAEL

Fastlove (1996) Dir. Vaughan Arnell & Anthea Benton

[grrl-bubble-acid]

George Michael - Fastlove (Official Video)

[scritti-di-aliantis]

"Che belle le persone con cui poter essere se stessi senza sentirsi mai sbagliati". (Anonimo) 🕳

(Il post qui sopra è di bruno-s)

Ti fa sentire sbagliato chi è irrisolto dentro. Chi ha avuto problemi di controllo in passato e ne è stato oggetto. Chi è stato vittima di compressioni dell'anima. E non ha saputo liberarsene. Chi non vuole sforzarsi di uscire dalla gabbia che ancora lo imprigiona. Perché ci vuole coraggio. Ci vuole intelligenza, quella vera. Oggi gli amori e i rapporti sono frenetici, veloci, poco profondi. Si scambia facilmente una pozzanghera col mare.

Aliantis

-----

Fastlove (George Michael)

[conversationsofyou]

                Chapter One:

The Only Living Boy In New York

"Give a girl the right shoes and she can conquer the world." 

~Marilyn Monroe

        

Song: Manhattan by Ella Fitzgerald & Buddy Bregman

Present day. 

The perfect ringlets that form naturally at the ends of Harry's hair, which were there this morning, have metamorphosed into effortless beachy waves most people envy. The usual result from Manhattan humidity and overly fussing about with his fingers. It's a shampoo commercial moment as it falls against his back.

Harry squeezes the bridge of his nose, a temporary relief from sinus pressure. "Are we done?" he asks with his eyes closed.

He wonders if Zayn would notice if he took a kip on the chaise by the toilets. 

                   

“Never,” Zayn responds whilst his nimble fingers sort through a display of Celine totes.

He would.

To Zayn's dismay, Harry's met his limit of consumerism for the day. He typically loves to shop; specifically when it's time to restock his art studio. Although, he's accustomed to leisurely drifting in and out of thrift shops and vintage boutiques. He allows clothing and accessories to find him. This… this has been an Olympic event. Zayn warned him beforehand that his rookie status wouldn't be tolerated today.  

After an extensive marathon of pampering and excess, Harry's eager to go home and decompress from their shopping extravaganza. He loves Zayn fiercely, but Harry's borderline fatigued. This is the sixth or tenth store they've been to; he's lost count. Each one, serving a different purpose. Zayn had to explain this to him, like he did at the last three stores. 

"This isn't one of your nifty thrifty's, darling. There's no one-stop shop for all our needs. Well, maybe Bergdorf's." 

A crash course in fashion's utility as such has been mentally and physically strenuous. If they’d concluded this field trip after facials at the spa and mimosa brunch, Harry’d be in complete nirvana.

However, the tranquil mood a much needed massage had granted him has now been replaced with extreme tension in his muscles. His sciatica keeps jolting his nerves into spasm and his toes are most definitely numb. He would've worn trainers instead of his beloved boots if he knew it was going to be this intense.

"It costs a lot to be this beautiful," Zayn throws some more fortune cookie wisdom his way as he picks up a Louis Vuitton bum bag. 

"I lost my soul somewhere between Mercer and Broome," he responds dryly.

"We can't all be as cool as you." 

“Matt got this shirt for me in Tokyo,” Harry tugs at the end of a vintage Queen t-shirt from the eighties. 

Zayn looks up at him and smiles softly. “He had the best finds. I know it's sentimental, but I also know for a fact that Matt would've told you to buy whatever the fuck you please after selling out your first exhibition. This is a triumph for you. You're allowed.”

"I've bought some things since then." 

"Interior design excluded." Zayn's mouth twitches. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry concedes. "So, what's on the menu here?" 

There's no other option than to swim with the current force that is Zayn.

He looks at Harry, contemplating his wardrobe journey. "This place has phenomenal denim…" He holds his hands in the air, scanning the store, like a director setting up their next frame. "Thinking of some new washes. You'd look fabulous in a mid-blue rinse." Zayn turns back to him and tilts his head. "There are other colors besides black." 

"What's wrong with black jeans?"

"Nothing. Doesn't mean you have to wear them every day. You're not Superman."

Harry arches an eyebrow. "Aren't I?" 

Zayn ignores him while admiring a Givenchy satchel. He adjusts the collar on his gorgeous Alexander McQueen gunmetal leather jacket. It's not nearly cold enough yet for the biker chic inspired hide, but as he declared before they left Harry's flat, “We must suffer for fashion the same way we do for art."

Zayn glances over at him. "I do adore your vintage, starving artist tees and ripped jeans." He offers some reassurance. "Even though you could do with a little glam rock." Though he often makes fun, Zayn's admitted in the past he approves of Harry's style choices. No matter how eccentric they are. His eyes land on Harry's boots. "Starting with those." 

Harry looks down at the worn out brown leather boots he found at one of the first thrift shops he visited in the city. He treasures them. They've given him so many miles. He'll never part with them.

He looks back up. "No." 

“Veronica!” Zayn calls out and, like a best laid plan, a tall sales associate appears with silky raven tresses styled into a long bob haircut. Veronica approaches them wearing a stunning bordeaux Bowie inspired jumpsuit. Lipstick the same shade. It captures Harry's eye instantly.

She walks over and magically produces a large box with the Saint Laurent Paris logo printed onto it. Ignoring the box, Harry scans the details of Veronica's ensemble as he admires her whole look.

Zayn catches Harry's eye and asks, "Who makes this?" As he brushes a finger over the fabric of her sleeve. 

"Custom," Veronica responds vaguely. 

It's unique and Harry can understand her discretion. 

"H, you'll sympathize as an artist. When anything innovative or gorgeous as this is mass produced, it usually turns to shit. There's something about a piece being one of a kind that's priceless."

Veronica nods her head once.

"I wouldn't share either." Zayn nods back and brings the focus back to Harry, who automatically shakes his head at the box he's holding.

Zayn clears his throat, ignoring his stubbornness and signals for the big reveal. Veronica lifts the lid and Harry swears a little golden light appears, leaving a glow shining from the box.

 

Zayn tilts the box closer to him for the full effect. "Harry, let me introduce you to your new friend, Chelsea."

He holds up the gorgeous, buttery tan suede heeled boots. "Classic and a forever staple." 

"My mother, grandmothers, and aunts all passed down their retail D.N.A. to me. These," he gestures to the boots, "are an investment." Zayn imparts some more wisdom.

Harry ignores his rising heart rate and briefly hesitates. Inevitably he gives in, running his fingers along the soft leather. The sensation is divine and smells heady in the best way possible. Boots have always been his weakness. He succumbs.

"Fine," he says like it's an imposition and grabs the boots. 

He sits down to try them on and takes off his old boots while placing the faded leather comrades next to a plush chair beside him. He's wearing his Hello Kitty socks today.

"Precious," Veronica comments and walks away towards another customer who's borderline distressed.

Song: Get On Your Boots by U2

Harry meticulously takes out all of the cardboard and packing paper. The boots slip on like a second skin. He stands up, beaming.

"Yeah. Thought so," he smirks. Zayn's super hero sixth sense always prevails. He knew Harry would eventually buckle for the gorgeous footwear.

Harry spins around in front of the mirror and does a little jig with his toes pointed.

Zayn shakes his head as he walks away. "I'm going to look for some jeans."

Harry gives him a salute and walks around the store, enjoying the boots that have already changed his life a little bit. They even have a slight heel. The soles produce a satisfying clacking sound against the stone floor as he strolls back to his old boots. They look so sad, slouching against the chair, out of shape and worn with holes. Harry frowns and picks them up. He knows it's corny but, "Still love you the best. Thank you for taking me where I needed to be," he says quietly.

Someone within his ear shot snorts, and he gently drops the boots. Harry looks up slightly embarrassed.

☆ This was definitely more than a snippet. A snip deluxe. I'd love to one day finish this fic I started seven years ago. All the inspo to my fellow writers and creators who have started something and life has gotten in the way or time is not of the essence. I empathize and relate on all levels.

Shout out to my Beta, Lau @nyxdaughterofkhaos , nothing but love and respect!!! Looking forward to continuing this journey with you ❤️

As always, if anyone has any art to share.

@kingsofeverything @crinkle-eyed-boo @twopoppies @beelou @fallinglikethis @femstyles @harryshandbag @andyouknowitis @lookslikefairytale @rhea-the-eradicator @toomanydreamers

[trulyunpleasant]

"BABY, I AIN'T MR. RIGHT"

George Michael as he appears in the music video for Fastlove.

[y2k-2day]

George Michael - Fastlove (1996)

[bruhconstantine]

F A S T L O V E

"Looking for some education

Made my way into the night

All that bullshit conversation

Baby, can't you read the signs?

I won't bore you with the details, baby

You gotta get there in your own sweet time

Let's just say that maybe

You could help to ease my mind

Baby, I ain't Mr. Right

But if you're looking for fastlove"

[my-chaos-radio]

Release: April 22, 1996

Lyrics:

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get (gotta get up)

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get (gotta get up)

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Oh, yeah

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Looking for some education

Made my way into the night

All that bullshit conversation

Baby, can't you read the signs?

I won't bore you with the details, baby

I don't even wanna waste your time

Let's just say that maybe

You could help to ease my mind

Baby, I ain't Mr. Right

But if you're looking for fastlove

If that's love in your eyes

It's more than enough

Had some bad love

So fast love is all that I've got on my mind

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Ooh, yeah, yeah

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

What's there to think about, baby?

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Hey, baby, oh yeah

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Looking for some affirmation

Made my way into the sun

My friends got their ladies

They're all having babies

But I just wanna have some fun

I won't bore you with the details, baby

Gonna get there in your own sweet time

Let's just say that maybe

You could help to ease my mind

Baby, I ain't Mr. Right

But if you're looking for fastlove

That's love in your eyes

It's more than enough

Had some bad love

So fast love is all that I've got on my mind

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Ooh, yeah, yeah

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Yeah, what's there to think about, baby?

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Get yourself some lessons in love

Ooh-ooh, baby, baby

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

So close

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Taste it now, baby

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

So close

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

In the absence of security

I made my way into the night

Stupid Cupid keeps on calling me (stupid Cupid keeps on calling me)

But I see loving in his eyes

I miss my baby (oh yeah)

I miss my baby (tonight)

So why don't we make a little room in my BMW, babe?

Searching for some peace of mind

Hey, I'll help you find it

I do believe that we are practicing the same religion

Oh, you really oughta get up now

That's right (that's right)

Oh, you really oughta get up

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Oh yeah

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Oh yeah

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Oh yeah

Gotta get up to get down

Gotta get up to get down

Songwriter:

Looking for some affirmation

Gotta get up, get down

Gotta get up, get down

Gotta get up, get down

Gotta get up, get down

Gotta get up, get down

Gotta get up, get down

Fred Washington / George Michael / Patrice Rushen / Terri McFaddin

SongFacts:

👉📖

[alltoowsll]

so true bestie

[duranduratulsa]

George Michael - Fastlove (Official Video)

90's Fest Song 🎵 of the day 2: Fastlove by George Michael (1996) from Older #georgemichael #RIPGeorgeMichael #fastlove #Older #90s #90sfest #durandurantulsas3rdannual90sfest

[quitecontraryy]

In the absence of security

Made my way into the night

Stupid cupid keeps on calling me

But I see nothing in his eyes

I miss my baby

So why don't we make a little room

In my BMW babe

Searchin' for some peace of mind

I'll help you find it

I do believe that we are practicing the same religion

[hpheisler]

i made this banger for no reason and never posted it here. please enjoy.

[conversationsofyou]

a birthdaze snip from Fastlove in honor of another trip around the sun. tis the season 🫶🏻

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Song: Take The A Train by Duke Ellington 

It's a quarter past five o'clock, peak end of day travel. All the nine to fives are itching to get home. Harry and Zayn have been riding the subway for a few minutes. The chaos that is Manhattan rush hour has begun. It's an unspoken way of life for New Yorkers, don't draw attention and mind your business. 

Harry's trying and failing to not suffocate to death from the designer denim he decided to wear straight out of the store. They didn't feel this stiff in the fitting room.

After much deliberation, they agreed on a few different washes. Zayn managed to pull a rabbit out of his hat and convinced Harry to buy a white pair of jeans. Zayn took a photo of him in them and sent it to everyone in the group chat.

Of course their close friend Nicky, who's also a fellow drag queen from Lucky Cheng's, chimed in first and asked where Harry's dick had disappeared to. Harry proceeded to shove the phone down his pants for a quick shot as hard evidence. 

Now, filled with deep regret, Harry shifts and struggles in the orange and beige plastic seat. 

He attempts to be as subtle as possible while grabbing his crotch. "Shit. They're so fucking tight," he whispers.

"That's what he sa—" Harry pinches Zayn's nipple. He doesn't even flinch. 

Harry releases a meditative exhale. "I feel like I can't breathe and my balls will never forgive me."

Zayn shakes his head. "They're brand new designer jeans. Of course it's cramped in there. Why is this an issue? Your jeans normally look painted on."

"Don't mock my pain."

"I told you to wear your old ones out of the store. Designer needs time to meld to your body."

"They're not new shoes. I don't need to break them in." He stretches his legs out to admire his new boots.

"Says the one who owns two pairs of jeans."

He grips onto Zayn's bicep. "Thank you Zayneth, overlord of retail. Do you finally receive your horns with another sacrifice to the fashion gods?"

"You'll be thanking me when someone with a modicum of good taste notices how hot you look in overpriced jeans. Just lay one on me now, you know I'm right." Zayn nudges his sharp cheek in his face.

Harry rolls his eyes. "I don't care if anyone notices," he mumbles through a smile and kisses Zayn's cheek.

The suit beside them clears his throat. Harry glances over as the bloke squirms in his seat, discomfort evident from their harmless embrace. The Wall Street Journal's clasped tightly in his fingers. He flips a page obnoxiously to drive the point home.

Zayn, never one to bite his tongue, snips, "Something wrong, sweetheart?" He angles his head toward the man's face.

"Zayn..."

"No H, I'd like to know what the fuss is." He edges closer. "Oh cupcake, did your Viagra stock plummet?" He clicks his tongue against his teeth in mock sympathy. Harry needs to get them off this train before The Brooklyn is fully unleashed.

"Not now. Look, our transfers next. Get up." 

He grabs Zayn’s hand to spring him into action. The familiar monotone voice announces the next stop over the crackled speaker.

Song: Where Angels Fear To Tread by Disclosure 

Harry collects the copious amount of shopping bags and nudges his tempestuous friend, urging him to move. Wills him to. Zayn stands up to leave and, of course, blows a kiss to the suit.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

bonus snippet/summary up next. tagging the usual suspects and anyone else feeling frisky w some high art to share: @alarrylarrie @becomeawendybird @beelou @crinkle-eyed-boo @femstyles @fallinglikethis @hiccoops @kingsofeverything @louandhazaf @lookslikefairytale @twopoppies @toomanydreamers