#follow me for more beautiful opinions on a fifteen year old musical

[tamaharu]

okay thats interesting! in the SF try-outs during the song "legally blonde" she sings about how she cant be legally blonde, while in the official version AND THE DEMO she sings about letting her be legally blonde. which means that at some point they changed the lyrics around, and then changed them back! laurence o'keefe.... nell benjamin.... what occurs in your twisted minds

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Life in Quarantine (Part 1) | Owen Patrick Joyner

Summary: A series about being stuck in quarantine with your best friend Owen and trying not to lose your mind over being stuck inside all day every day. 

Pairing: Owen x reader

Warnings: Fluff, minor swearing, lots of singing

Songs used: Don’t Let Go by En Vouque/ Washington on Your Side from Hamilton/ More than Words by Little Mix / Not a Pop Song by Little Mix  -- All credits go to owners of these songs

A/N: I know nothing about songwriting and none of this will probably ever happened in real life, but it just worked for the story, alright? Alright. Enjoy! 

Words: 3,372

Part 1: Not A Pop Song

Norman, Oklahoma. My home town. The place where I was born and raised. The place where I learned how to live and love. Where I learned what heartbreak is. Where I met and lost friends. The town all my most valued memories reside. 

It’s also where I met my best friend, Owen. Our mothers were, and still are, college besties. So, us becoming friends was kind of inevitable. We went through everything together. Kindergarten, Elementary, Middle School and High School. Wherever you saw me, you saw Owen and vice versa. A lot of people often thought we were a couple, but that’s been off the table since day one. In Elementary School, Owen and I made a pact with five different rules to seal our friendship forever. The list only grew as we got older. But here’s the gist: 

1. If one is teased or bullied, the other takes revenge 2. Always sing and dance together whenever one asks, even if you don’t want to 3. Always share cookies 4. Always play together at recess 5. Always sit together at lunch

Then the additions from Middle and High School: 

6. We will never, ever, ever date each other or each other’s siblings 7. Ethan, Evan and Emmy are off limits too 8. Crushes too 9. Always go to Broadway shows together 10. Never lie even if you wanna do it for the right reasons. There is no right reason.  11. Always support each other’s dreams and successes 12. Always hate each other’s exes 13. Always share ice cream 14. Never share our secrets with other 15. Always go to parties together

That last one was added by Owen in senior year of High School when I didn’t want to go to a party since it was my exes party and we’re supposed to hate each other’s exes. But, since he’s been in LA for most of senior year to pursue his acting career, I really couldn’t say no. Him going off to Los Angeles for months, sometimes even longer, started in eighth grade when he landed the role of Crispo Powers in a Nickelodeon show called ‘100 things to do before High School’, which I religiously watched, of course.  Rule 9 tells you to. After High School, the two of us split ways. I headed off to Boston to study at Berklee College of Music to major in songwriting as it’s always been a dream of mine to become a songwriter, while Owen went to LA to further pursue his career in acting. We’ve tried to keep in contact, but daily calls turned into weekly calls turned into monthly calls. Five months in, we just try to at least check in with each other every now and then, which is what works best for our busy schedule. Then December 2018 came and changed my life entirely for the better. The representative of Syco and Columbia records said he was in need of fresh blood to co-write songs with none other than Little Mix on their next album.  They held a competition at Berklee College, and long story short, I won! Yay me. To say I was nervous to write with a girl group I’ve been a fan of since the very beginning is an understatement. But they were so nice to work with. We’d take turns flying to each other’s countries and wrote about five songs together of which only two made it onto the actual album. None of it made much sense to me at the time, it all just seemed like one big dream. Owen was pretty excited about it too. He knew how big a fan I was of the girls. Even though he wasn’t a big fan himself, he still listened to the album, mostly to listen to the songs I’d written. Over FaceTime, we even played a game called ‘Guess what song I’ve written’, and he’d gotten one right. The girls even gave you a full-time job as co-writer on more projects of theirs and even recommended you to other artists. This meant you had to quit college and become a full-time freelance songwriter. Thanks to Little Mix, though, you’ve gotten the nicest people to hire you. Since then, you’ve worked with artists like Meghan Trainor, Bea Miller, Isabella Merced -- who you could gossip with about Owen from her time working with him -- and even Harry Styles. The fifteen-year-old inside you didn’t know what to do with herself when that collaboration happened. But working with all those people also meant I had to move again. This time to Los Angeles. When I told Owen the good news, he immediately suggested you move in with him. It’s the thing you guys said you would do once you got older; get an apartment together. So, it was the only logical move. “Welcome to your new casa!” He said dramatically when leading me into the apartment. The tall white walls and large windows illuminated the entire place with a welcoming feeling. “Let me show you to your room, so you can drop off your excessive luggage and then I’ll give you the tour of the entire space.” I raise an eyebrow at his words. “Bro, I have excessive luggage because I just moved from Boston to freaking LA!” I exclaim, followed by an amused chuckle as I try to push him, but fail since he’s much stronger. From that moment on, I knew moving in with Owen would be the best and worst idea I ever had. 

And speaking of ‘worsts’. From March 2020, the two of us were stuck at home together due to the outbreak of the coronavirus. Just when I was supposed to start working with Little Mix on their new album. I would’ve been in London now, but instead, I’m stuck in LA with my best friend who doesn’t have a job at the moment since he’d just finished filming a new Netflix show called Julie and The Phantoms. What I heard from it this far, it sounds pretty amazing. I even went to Vancouver with Owen for a few weeks. It was a fun trip and gave me some new inspiration for some songs. “Hey, Nugget,” Owen says as he walks into the room we call our studio where I’m working. “I’m kinda in the middle of something, Ace. Can it wait?” I know I shouldn’t work out my frustration on my best friend, but it kind of fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “Sorry, Nugget, I’m kinda bored…” I sigh exasperatedly and bob my head to signal his permission to come in. “What are you working on?” he asks as he sits down on the armrest of the armchair I’m sitting on. “This Little Mix song I can’t seem to make work,” I reply and point to the notebook in front of me. “I’ve got a few good lyrics, but the melody seems impossible.” Owen takes the notebook from me and closes it before getting up. “Time for a little break,” he says and goes to sit behind his drum kit. “Guess what song I’m playing,” he then says and starts with the cymbals, then hi-hats and when a beat finally floats through the room, my brain starts to work. This is a game we’ve been playing every time I’m in need of a break or just for fun. We’d take turns in playing a part of a song on our respective instruments and the other has to guess which song it is by singing along. “What’s it gonna be? Cuz I can’t pretend Don’t you wanna be More than friends Hold me tight and don’t let go Don’t let go Have the right to lose control Don’t let go” A smile appears on Owen’s as I get the first song right. He always underestimates my love for girl bands from the 80’s and 90’s. Though, I think he might’ve given me this one because I’m so frustrated from working on that song. “Your turn,” he then says after having hit a couple more toms and cymbals. I think about it for a moment, and then start plucking the sixth string to create a more bassy sound. Owen stares at the guitar for a moment trying to figure out what song I’m playing. Then, his eyes widen as he recognizes the sound. “It must be nice, it must be nice To have Washington on your side It must be nice, it must be nice To have Washington on your side” I let out a loud whoop in excitement, choking the strings to stop the sound. “I still can’t do that rap though!” he actually sounds disappointed in himself. “Washington isn’t gon’ listen to disciplined dissidents This is the difference This kid is out!” I proudly yell out, earning impressed applause from my best friend. The smile on his face warms me up inside. Owen has always had the most beautiful smile, in my opinion. He has one of those smiles that could just instantly make you happy. No matter how bad a day you had. “Very impressive, Nugget,” he replies with a smirk that sends shivers down my spine. Ever since I moved in, he’s gotten more and more flirty with me. I’m not sure if it’s just a change in his personality that he’s acquired in Los Angeles or if it’s something else, but it’s there. Not that I mind. Something has shifted in me too since we moved in together. It’s even gotten me thinking about removing rule number 6 from our pact. “Your turn, Ace,” I quickly change the subject, just so I don’t have to think about him like that too much. Our dynamic as best friends is too good to ruin it all. Twenty years of that is a long time to just throw away like that. “Alright, an easy one,” he says and simply starts stomping the bass pedal to activate his bass drum.  It’s a slow, almost menacing thump that sounds very familiar. A little too familiar. “Oh, I need you more than words can say Oh, You saved me in ways I can’t explain Always been there for me, now I’ll do the same Oh, I need you more than words can say” It’s one of the two songs on Little Mix’s last album that I helped write. The song that means most to me since I wrote it with Owen in mind. It was a period of time where all I wanted was to see Owen and be able to talk to him and just spend time with him like we used to before his whole acting adventure. I think he’ll stop after the chorus, but instead, he picks up his drum sticks and starts playing the rest of the song on his drum kit. Deciding it could be a fun jam session, I start playing the chords on my guitar as well whilst continuing with the lyrics. “Won't forget, won't forget Won't forget when he broke my heart How you helped me through You turned, you turned, you turned a disaster into a dream Gave me the power, made my life brand new When the world try to break us, we found magic And we grew stronger, though every line, line, line Every night, every night, every night I strain and sing the truth Now, now they know that they gonna be alright, alright” The memories of when I wrote this song start slipping through my mind. I remember how alone I felt, even in a room with a dozen other people. I remember how much I missed Owen. “I find peace in every story you told I think of you, I'll never be alone It's true, true, true You know I do, do, do” My eyes lock with Owen for a moment. He shoots me a comforting smile that makes me feel right at home. And I don’t mean here. I mean home as in Norman, Oklahoma. “Oh, I need you more than words can say Oh, you save me in ways that I can't explain Always been there for me, now I'll do the same Oh, I need you more than words can say Oh, I need you more than words can say” We both stop playing and just look at each other for a while. I’ve never told Owen I wrote this song for him, but at the same time, I think he might already know. That doesn’t take away the urge to tell him though. “I wrote that about you when I missed you,” I blurt out without properly thinking about it. “Really?” he asks while coming out from behind his kit. Combing his long, blonde hair back, he makes his way over to me and grabs the guitar from my lap. “Yeah, I thought you’d know?” He chuckles, shaking his head whilst tickling the strings. I’d taught him a couple of songs on the guitar since we started living together. “You write with a lot of people, Nugget. Could’ve just been their words as well....” He isn’t wrong about that. Maybe it was a lot less obvious than I thought it was. “So, what are the guidelines for this one?” he questions. I grab my notebook again and open it on the page I was working on before he fluttered into the studio. “They didn’t want another pop song. Kind of more like a ‘fuck you’ to Simon Cowell for treating them so badly and telling them what to do and what to wear and whatnot,” I explain, showing the few lines I have already. Some of them Jade had sent me, others were Perrie’s, a couple were mine. “What are most pop songs about?” Owen queries. I know he’s trying to help me, but he’s kind of making me nervous with the constant strumming of the guitar. “Songs about falling in love, or drinks and drugs…” I sum up at the top of my mind, “Or heartbreak…” Owen nods his head whilst continuing to play the same few chords over and over again. I focus on the melody for a moment as my creative juices start to work again. “This ain’t another pop song ‘bout falling in love Or a party song ‘bout drinks and drugs No more singing songs ‘bout breaking my heart And my lonely nights dancin’ in the dark” I look up at Owen for validation. Nodding his head encouragingly, he keeps playing the same few chords but a little louder this time to support the flow of my lyrics. “If I’m a guilty pleasure I want this life forever I’ll take it all ‘cause anything is better Than another pop song ‘bout falling in love But if you wanna sing along say ‘I don’t give a fuck!’” Owen starts jumping around excitedly, and I can’t help but laugh at his adorableness. He used to get this excited whenever I sent him a demo of the songs I was working on. “Let’s record a demo!” he exclaims and, after handing me my guitar back, moves towards the recording equipment. “Let’s start with some guitar,” he says and that’s how our recording starts. First, the guitar, then Owen records some drums, and then I get behind the mic to sing the song all by myself. I can just imagine how amazing this’ll sound with the girls’ voices instead of mine. “No broken bottles Or glitter on the floor form the night before Ain’t no boy troubles If that’s what you came here for then you should know” I lapse back into the chorus one last time before we finish recording and put everything together. We listen to it a couple more times before sending it over to Little Mix and their management. Awaiting their answer, we head into the kitchen to make some dinner together. It only takes about half an hour before I get a call from Jade. “This song is epic!” she shouts into my ear before I can even say hello. “Exactly what we needed, Y/N, thank you so much!” I’ve grown accustomed to her thick Geordie accent, though it was hard to understand in the beginning. “Thanks, Jade! Owen helped me out a little,” I reply, looking up at Owen himself who shoots me a wink that sends a rush of heat from my head all the way to my toes. The girls all know about Owen. I’d told them about my best friend and how supportive he was, and they always teased me saying I was so in love with this guy. Which I didn’t realize at the time and always denied. Rule 6 clearly states no dating each other. “Give him a big snog as a thanks then!” Jade jokes, and I can even hear the others in the background. “I’m on Zoom with the girls at the moment. They say hi!” “Hi back!” I can’t stop the giggle from escaping from my lips. “I gotta go, Jade. Thanks for getting back to me about the song. I can’t wait to hear you guys singing it!” Jade snickers on the other side of the line. All while I’m watching Owen make some pasta at the stove. There’s something so attractive about him in the kitchen, I’m not sure what it is. Fuck, Jade is right. I am very much in love with my best friend and there’s nothing I’m going to be able to do about it. Stupid pact we made in the first grade. “We’ll call you later to discuss some more arrangements and stuff. Bye, Y/N!” “Bye, Jade! Bye girls!” I say loudly, knowing I’m probably on speaker phone anyway. “Bye, Y/N!” the girls chorus. I hang up the phone and look at Owen for a few seconds before bursting out into an excited cheer, dancing my way towards him. “They loved it! They loved it! They loved it!” I shout loudly, and cup Owen’s face in my hands before pressing my lips to his in an outburst of elation. I’m surprising yourself at first, but then melt into the familiarity of his embrace as his arms snake around my waist whilst kissing me back. He’s actually kissing me back. “And that’s rule number 6 out the door…” Owen mumbles when he pulls away. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” I mumble and step away from him, or at least try to. His arms tighten around my waist, restricting me from taking another step. “I’ve been thinking about talking to you about that stupid rule, Nugget. I’ve hated it ever since we were 16.” My eyes widen at his confession. Since we were sixteen? SIXTEEN? That’s four years ago. That’s even long before I realized I felt more for him than just a platonic love. “16? Why didn’t you say anything?!” Owen chuckles, retracting his arms from around my waist and instead tucking a strand of hair behind my ear before placing his hand on my cheek. “You were pretty enamoured with Ryan, remember?” My heart breaks at the mention of the prick’s name. Ryan was my very first heartbreak and the worst at that. Owen was in LA at the time, but when he heard the news, he almost immediately flew back to Norman Oklahoma to comfort me and eat ice cream together. “Besides, I was constantly on the move from LA to Norman, it wouldn’t have been fair to you…” “You’re the sweetest human being alive, Owen Patrick Joyner,” I tell him with a smile tugging at my lips, but then turn serious again as I flick his forehead. He lets out an ‘ow’ and shoots me a confused glare. “And the stupidest! I’ve been in love with you since I don’t know when, but I never realized until now! The girls from Little Mix even knew but I was too oblivious or stubborn to see it myself. If you’d told me, I probably would’ve realized sooner!” “Well… I told you now?” he tries, the cheesiest smile on his face that makes me roll my eyes. “I love you, Ace,” I whisper, “And not the platonic kind this time.” “I love you too, Nugget.” He leans down again after that, reconnecting our lips into a passionate kiss. The first of many. This ought to be a very interesting quarantine together.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 

[damn-behzinga]

I Can’t Wait For Forever

Ethan Payne (Behzinga) X Reader

summary - The Sidemen film your’s and Ethan’s wedding, here are the fan favourite bits.

warnings - lack of father figure, panicking, swearings, my terrible writing

request - Could you do something with ethan where it's your wedding day or something. Thank you x

Hey if it alright could you do an ethan imagine where it's our wedding day and maybe its filmed by the sidemen x it's alright if you dont

masterlist and request info

You and Ethan had gotten engaged a year and a half before you officially got married. Ethan proposed at your anniversary and you had announced it a few days later.

You had chosen to get married at an old manor house which had a beautiful garden especially during the summer you were due to get married in.

When you and Ethan gave your invites to the lads, Ethan sat them down and finally asked, "Will you lads be my groomsmen?"

The boys all beamed and pulled Ethan into a hug and started jumping. You chuckled and smiled softly, watching the boys interact.

"So, who's your best man then?" JJ asked, a grin on his face.

Ethan grinned and sighed. "I chose Charlie." The boys all looked at one and other sighed.

"What?" JJ exclaimed.

"Well, when you guys get married, Josh will choose Tobi and vice versa, Vik will choose Harry and vice versa, and Simon will choose JJ and vice versa. I didn't want to pick one of you lot over the other." Ethan explained. The pairs all nodded understanding completely, knowing not to argue with the groom to be.

"Can we film it?" Harry asked.

"I'll have to talk to y/n, but it could be fun. You guys could film you guys practising. I think we were planning on filming the wedding anyway."

You had agreed, thinking it would be fun if the men filmed their perspective of the wedding and how their morning went. So the men filmed the day and how the rehearsal the day before went.

You stood at the entrance of the manor house, You watched as each of the pairs of brides and grooms made their way up to alter before going to their respective side. First to walk up was Charlie and your best friend Lucy, followed by Simon and Talia, then JJ and Becky. As Harry and Katie walked up to the alter they unlinked their arms and quickly separated causing Ethan to groan.

"You come up to there and then walk away not walk away straight away! Have you lot been to a wedding before?" You laughed at Ethan's comment as Harry chuckled and apologised. They were followed by Josh and Freya, Tobi and Gee, and then Vik and your friend Steph. Then it was your two young cousins, the flower girl and page boy. The walked down the aisle together and then ran up to give Ethan a hug. Josh and Harry were messing around with the cameras not really paying attention to talk about what was happening to the viewers.

You had decided on pink dresses for the bridesmaids and blue suits for the groomsmen. Ethan wore a black suit which contrasted your white trumpet figured dress that had a long train. The dress had long sleeves and an open back, showing off your figure but also letting your remain covered.

The groomsmen were on the other side of the hotel and didn't tell you that JJ had lost his jewellery.  Ethan was panicking trying to find this jewellery that you had spent way too long picking out. Ethan tried to remain calm for the camera and continued to search. Vik and Josh were calming him down as Simon, JJ, and Tobi were searching for the missing cufflinks. Ethan started to calm down and pulled out his phone to call his mum.

He put it on speaker his mum answered.

"Hello, darling, are you okay?" His mum's voice rang out. "Everything going smoothly?"

"Jide has lost his jewellery so they're searching for that and I'm nervous and excited and-"

"Has he checked the drawer next to the bed and the floor around it?" His mum interrupted. Ethan looked at the lads who quickly searched the area his mum pointed out. JJ held up the lost jewellery and gave a small sorry smile.

"You're a lifesaver!" Ethan groaned into the phone and his mum just chuckled.

"Anyway, you better not be getting cold feet right now!" His mother scolded. "Y/n is too lovely for that." 

"No, I want to marry her. I can't wait to marry her!" Ethan exclaimed. "We've been planning this for a year and I don't want to get anything wrong."

"Everything will be fine. I promise you."  Ethan's mum said calmly. "I can't wait to walk with you down the aisle."

Ethan got emotional talking to his mum, just a few months ago Ethan had cried to you about how he wasn't going to have a dad to walk down the aisle with or have a dad dance with you when you switched parents after the first dance. You had insisted that it was okay to dance with his mum and that you'd just have to switch it up.

"I'll see you in fifteen minutes, love." Ethan's mum said softly. Ethan said his goodbyes and hung up.

You and Ethan had decided to do a first look video before the actual ceremony because you wanted Ethan's genuine reaction. Ethan had waited and then you walked up behind him and tapped his shoulder. Ethan nervously turned around and as soon as he saw you, he bought a hand to his mouth and he looked you up and down. 

"Hi." You whispered.

"You look- wow. You look so beautiful." He said softly. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it lightly, his other hand reached up stroked your sleeved arm softly.

"Stop. I'm going to cry!" You exclaimed.

"Don't cry, your make up took so long!" Talia said, and the two of you laughed.

You soon had to separate and go settle down so you could walk down the aisle.

Ethan linked arms with his mum, getting ready to walk down the aisle. His mum pulled him down and planted a kiss on his cheek. And then it was time. Ethan walked down the aisle and made eye contact with his friends who smiled cheerily at him. Ethan stopped at the aisle and turned to kiss his mum's cheek. She grinned at him and patted his arm softly, tapping three times, a small sign they came up with when Ethan was a child to show that she loved him, Ethan tapped three times back. His mum took her seat and Ethan stood at the aisle. He greeted the celebrant and shook his hand.

"Congratulations." The celebrant smiled.

"Thank you so much." Ethan mirrored his smile.

Music started playing and Ethan immediately turned to watch the groomsmen and bridesmaids walking down the aisle. They all remembered what they had to do which relieved Ethan a bit. Ethan hugged your young cousins and they quickly moved on. Ethan then watched as you appeared at the other end of the hall, holding arms with your dad. You made eye contact with Ethan and waved quickly. He grinned and walked down the three steps to take your hand. He shook your dad's hand and you kissed your dad's cheek. Your dad took his seat as Ethan walked you up to the small stage. 

As the celebrate started his speech, you stared at Ethan and grabbed his hand and stroked it softly.

"And now for the vows." The celebrant smiled, passing Ethan the microphone.

Ethan took a deep breath and started to recite his vows, "When we met, I was a lost person looking to be found. During dark times, you were my flashlight. During hard times, you were my sense of relief. During times when I felt as though I had nothing left in me, you helped me get back up and fight. So now, as I look at you in front of me as beautiful as ever, I can say with confidence that you are the embodiment of joy, kindness, love, life, and happiness. You helped me grow to be a better person and I can't thank you enough. I vow to always respect and value your opinions. I vow to listen to your rants about whatever show you're watching that I don't understand. I vow to try to never hurt you. I vow that no matter what happens, I will stand by your side. I vow to remind you of how beautiful you are in every way. I vow to be a shoulder to cry on when we rewatch Marley And Me. I vow to be the best I can for you and so much more."

You wiped your tears and chuckled softly at him before reciting your vows. "I was always known as the quiet, awkward girl in the back of the room but when I met you, you made me feel listened to and understood. When I couldn't get out of bed for the day because everything seemed too much, you would go out of your way to help me get up and relax. You were my reason then, my reason now, and my reason every day. When I felt I was stuck at the bottom of the mountain with no way of getting up, you provided climbing equipment and climbed with me. You have never left me behind and I can't thank you enough for that. I vow to give you my all and help you during hard times. I vow to watch football with you even though I don't understand what's going on. I vow to be most truthful self in front of you even if it's the ugly truth. I vow to be a shoulder to cry on when you watch Marley and Me because, although you won't admit it, you've cried more times over that than me. I vow to be by your side no matter what life throws at us. And I vow to love you as much as I can."

And soon after, the celebrant announced that "You may now kiss the bride.". Ethan cupped your cheek and pulled you into a kiss and dipped you slightly. You pulled apart and started to walk down the aisle towards the car that waited for you outside. You got into the car and waved at your friends before they drove you to the hotel where you spent some quality time together.

An hour later you arrived at the reception where the two of you were welcomed with a round of applause and cheer. You made your ways to the seats and people started raising their glasses as Josh stood to make a speech.

"When I met Ethan, he was a fat kid playing Fifa in Essex. We got along really well and there was a moment where me and Ethan, a few years later we were sitting on the couch after a shoot and he turned to me and he said he had gone on a date with this girl that he really liked. And I found that her name was y/n." Josh smiled at the two of you. "They hit it off and we met her a month later and dinner. And as y/n left to go to the bathroom, Ethan turned to us and said 'I'm going to marry that girl'." Ethan chuckled and blushed. "And all of us at the dinner had known that this was going to last forever. Y/n balanced Ethan out and after Ethan had told me he thought he was going to die alone, it was nice to see Ethan so hopeful about love. Y/n didn't like him because he was Behzinga or a YouTuber, she liked him for him, and Ethan needed a person like that in his life. So, as I stand here today, I want to thank Y/n for always being genuine and not letting Ethan getting too big of a head. I would wish you luck for the future ahead but I already know that you two are going to stand together through everything. So, I wish that you two live a happy and healthy life together because you deserve it. Thank you." Everyone clapped as you wiped away a few loose tears.

Your dad had stood up to make a speech. "There are times when I look at y/n and I see her as the girl I held in my arms, moments after she was born. When y/n was a teenager she made the decision to move to London, she was only eighteen and eager to live her life to the fullest. I remember a few years later during one of our weekly calls that she was going out with this guy called Ethan. Now I met Ethan a few months later because something had happened and we came together to help Y/n. Ethan was nervous meeting me and my wife but we quickly proved to him that y/n was the most important thing to us and she was to him as well." You sniffled as your dad made the speech. "It was so surreal having Ethan come up to me and ask me if he could take y/n's hand in marriage, and I remember turning to him and saying that he didn't need to ask because I was already so supportive of their relationship that I was surprised they weren't married already. I already have a beautiful daughter but I am so happy to welcome Ethan into our family with open arms." You cried and gave your dad a hug, not wanting to let go. 

You had eaten your food and soon it was the first dance, Ethan and you had practised your slow dance for months and you were relieved when you managed to get to the final dip successfully.  You danced with your dad and Ethan danced with his mum, softly whispering to one and another about how proud they were. You had talked with Ethan about dancing with your mum but Ethan felt off because he didn't have a dad for you to dance with. So, as Ethan started to dance with your mum, you took his mum's hands and started swaying with her. Ethan met your eyes across the dance floor and smiled at you. You then cut into the red velvet cake and fed it to each other.

You continued to dance with everyone, socializing with all the guests, eager to see them all. And obviously you had to play some top tunes so when Beerus came on, all you jumped to the dance floor and hyped JJ up. The night was full of love and laughter and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Right, welcome back to Sidemen Sunday and before we get into it, let's give a round of applause to Ethan in his first Sidemen video being a married man!" Josh cheered. Ethan grinned at the camera, showing off his new wedding ring as everyone cheered.

"How does it feel to be married?" Vik asked.

"Like the same, except I have a ring on." Ethan joked. "Nah, I've never been happier. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me and I got to share the experience with you guys and we filmed it so I can hold that memory forever."

"Thank you for letting us be groomsmen." Tobi smiled

"Still pissed you didn't choose me to be best man." JJ huffed jokingly.

"Anyways." Ethan rolled his eyes. "I loved it and you guys coming up with the idea to film getting ready, that was brilliant."

"I watched the videos you guys did without me whilst I was on honeymoon and you lot lost the plot without me lads." Ethan chuckled. 

"How was your honeymoon? You went to South Korea right?" Simon asked.

"It was good actually! Lovely weather, we did so much, it was surreal!" Ethan chuckled. "Honestly, go there if you have the chance.

"Anyways, shall we move on with the video?" Josh asked and then everything quickly went back to how it usually was in a sidemen video, except this time, Ethan got to say 'My Wife'.

[gyllenhaalstories]

SOUTHPAW, PART 1: HEADCANONS.

notes: dear anon: thank you for making me appreciate jake the rapper! also i know nothing about rap, so i’m sorry if this is pure trash! i never finished watching southpaw because it was too dark for me, but i took some very loose inspiration from it. warnings: mentions of dark past, mentions of sexual content... this got really long (2k words). gifs credits: alphalewolf. extras: if you want more informations about rapper!jake, please scroll through my blog. i have edited some older posts with the tag: topic: rapper!jake, so check it out if you’re interested. i have taken some ideas and put them in this list. (at the end of the list i provided some goodies!)

PART TWO WILL BE UPLOADED SOON, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR IT!

attention, attention! please note i know absolutely nothing about rap. i very rarely enjoy listening to rap music, it’s simply not for me. this might be inaccurate and off compared to the actual world of hip hop and other similar genres. i apologize for my lack of knowledge! this is an au in which jake is not an actor or a producer or anything of the sort. his fame, he built it with his music. you must keep that in mind while reading these headcanons or else it will get confusing. also, i’ve taken some loose inspiration from jake’s actual work, but that’s just for the sake of backstory. are you ready to dive in this twisted fantasy?

Jake Gyllenhaal. Known as Hall. He exploded the charts after being picked up by one of the biggest record companies for his first album: Hall of Fame. He was a rookie, yet he was older than most of the rappers you can think of today. He worked his way up undercover. He started participating in poetry and slam nights at local cafés. He became a songwriter, through connections. He sold some songs that are absolute classics today, but he does not care. He did not feel like they fit him anyway.

Growing up, Jake had it rough. There was a lot of fighting at home. His older sister was the perfect angel and him? The absolute disaster child. It was not like he ran after danger and trouble, he seemed to always be at the wrong place in the wrong time, he hung out with the wrong crowd. He managed to avoid juvie on some miracle. What was the miracle, you might ask? He was caught robbing some local bank with his “friends” and the cops, at first, did not believe he was innocent. While his friends were screaming and threatening the innocent clients of the bank, Jake actually tried to help them out of the building safely. The cops arrived at the same moment and thought he was keeping the strangers hostage. He was arrested on the spot. The other guys played the victims, blamed it all on Jake but it was only when Jake wrote the whole story, from the beginning where his friends manipulated him and made of him their puppet to when he felt this adrenaline rush telling him he needed to save the strangers that night. His writing was too sincere, too raw to be a web of lies. The police released him, but they kept an eye on him.

His escape were writing and music. He impressed all of his teachers at school. Talented, gifted, magical. That was how they described Jake at every parent and teacher meeting. Writing dumb sentences that made very little sense and playing with a guitar after school, that did not make his parents very proud compared to his sister who was on top of all of her classes and working hard for a future of wealth and success.

Music was his entire life. He would come home from school and blast music until he was called out for dinner. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Heart, Pink Floyd, Metallica, name it. He liked it loud. He liked it weird. He liked it with a deeper message, with double meaning.

He worked all types of jobs, some legal and some not so much. He was saving money for college. He applied. He got in. He started his classes. He had big dreams, too, he had ambitions. Maybe he could his talent to good use? He wanted to study philosophy, literature, music, creative writing... Anything that required thought and depth. He made friends, there. He befriended the edgy punk guy, he had tattoos everywhere, he listened to the same bands, he was quiet but his essays spoke volumes.

Jake was disappointed, his illusions were broken. He hated the format of his classes, the feeling like his opinion and his inspiration did not matter, it was always about meeting some stupid requirements to please a rich professor who did not care about passion, about talent, about originality. Jake dropped out, soon followed by his friend. His friend was hired at a tattoo parlor and Jake hung out there all the time. He would stay up until 5 am, 6, 7, all night and all day long. He loved the clients there. He would write and read his writing out loud to the clients when they were tortured by the needle shooting the ink in their skin. Talented and gifted, they all the same thing.

He started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

He wrote, not just stories and opinion pieces. He started writing songs, melody and lyrics. He started playing them, he started writing his own poetry too. He was introduced to freestyle battles. And as he fought against other talented thinkers, he noticed he spoke with a tempo, with a rhythm. He was rapping and he did not even realize it.

His career sky rocketed from the moment a music producer attended one of the rap battles. He was famous, he got quite the thick wallet and the connections. Jake was introduced to legends of hip hop. They all influenced him as his career grew to become something overwhelming and terrifying, yet thrilling and addictive.

Hall had a style of his own, though. It was romantic, yet absolutely disgusting and dark. It was aggressive, yet vulnerable and philosophical. He spoke of his trauma, of his hatred, of his envy, of his fears... He used his songs as an escape. He was becoming his own escape.

And his own prison. His family did not care about him, he was a shame, even. Aside from his old college friend, he never built strong friendships. They were all after him for fame and cash. He slept around, guys and gals, threesomes, foursomes... He did not care, anything for some genuine connection, even if it lasted for a very lazy and messy fifteen minutes in the trashy bathroom of a concert hall. Rumour had it he was a great lover, but he was so bad at loving.

Now it gets interesting...

Hall rapped alongsides Eminem, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott... The biggest pop stars were fighting just to get him to rap a line in their songs. Rihanna wishes he was the one singing Love the way you lie, does that give you an idea? He appeared on duets. He wrote more solo albums, sold them instantly. He never left the top of the billboard in weeks, months, if not years. It never really got to his head. He was still that sensitive boy writing about knights and princesses in his bedroom with walls covered by band posters. Fans did not care about this side of him, they loved him for his lyrics about snorting coke, drinking his pain away and fucking whoever wore the tiniest skirt around.

His latest album, Southpaw, was an even bigger hit. Pure filth. Pure gold. Imagine 13 tracks, Cardi’s and Megan’s WAP but reversed. He does not rap about how good he fucks people. He raps about how good they feel. That’s some real depth here, no pun intended.

You met him at one of his concerts. Your friend won VIP passes, so you were standing in the front and got to take a picture with him. You did not understand the hype around taking a photo with this guy, he just stood there and looked absolutely emotionless.

You hated rap, or perhaps you loved it. You did not care much for Jake, that was for sure. You thought he was just another lame rapper who thought he was the real deal because his lyrics were so explicit, even the clean versions made angels cry. The truth was, you did not know much a bout him. You found him too commercial, like he was scared of becoming irrelevant.

You saw right through him already.

But him? He already cared too much about you. You caught his attention as he rapped his songs. He could not take his eyes off you. You weighted heavy on his mind, caused him to stutter and forget lyricvs. Fans laughed, they said he was probably too drunk or too high too focus. Drunk in love, that’s what it was.

There was something about you. Maybe it was the Black Sabbath shirt you wore. Maybe it was the unimpressed look on your face. Maybe it was your plump lips he wanted to kiss. Maybe it was the sight of you laughing with your friend that made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the fact you treated him like a normal person even if you had not spoken to him first.

So, you met backstage.

Your friend was beaming from ear to ear, showering Jake in compliments.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jake asked you.

“For someone who shows no emotion, sound dead inside and look like they wish they were doing anything but making dozens of thousands of dollars by singing a couple of semi mediocre tracks, yeah, it was not that horrible.”

He was up for a challenge.

You two exchanged insults like it was a boxing match. Each round was getting more and more intense. It was no longer insults, it was straight up flirting. You noticed when your bodies were so close you could smell the scent of watermelon chewing gum that escaped from his warm breath. You could hear the way his raced even faster than yours.

You were snapped out of this fantasy by his bodyguard, indicating other fans waited for him.

He remembered the name your friend called out, saying he needed to bring you home before something bad happened.

It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

He hung out around that concert hall for the next couple of days. At the bar nearby, at Starbucks, at McDonald’s, anything for the sake of seeing your face again.

And he did.

You were walking out of the record store with a vinyl of Heart squeezed under your arm. You looked so happy. You had paint stains all over your clothes. You were erasing the memories of a terrible relationship by decorating your tiny apartment, and you needed to set the right ambiance. You needed guidance, you found it in the strong minds of the ladies behind Heart, in Joan Jett, in Stevie Nicks. You found your silver lining in music.

Jake ran behind you, he pretended he was out jogging and he mysteriously bumped into you. He grabbed your vinyl before it could fall on the ground.

“Nice pick.”

“We finally agree on something.”

Another round of flirty insults...

... That ended in the two of you fucking like animals on the floor of your apartment.

And fucking on the couch the next day.

On the kitchen counter the morning after.

And finally, on the bed. That was a really special one. Jake was the first person to be on your bed since the departure of your ex. He could feel that you were not in the mood for a rough battle for dominance.

That night, he made love to you.

For, quite possibly, the first time in his life, he expressed his love directly to somebody. “Princess, baby girl, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing”, he showered you in compliments, and praises. The slow movement of his hips, the intense passion in his eyes and love in his heart spoke louder than the music you were playing in the background to set the mood.

You were not just another trophee to hang on the wall. You were special.

He was special too.

He bought you every record that reminded him of you. He bought you collector items of your favourite bands. From the silliest decoration to a new car to replace your crappy one, passing by tickets to exclusive and sold-out shows, Jake had never felt more famous in his life than when he was with you.

His fans noticed the change in his songs, in his lyrics. They were just as explicit, just as rotten and just as corrupted. However, they came from a place of light and love, not of darkness and rage.

He sang about how good your felt when you climaxed around him. How drenched he was whenever he made you squirt. How he loved to taste himnself on your lips. How he was full of love and of lust for you. How he would quit everything if it meant he would live a normal life, for once, and with you.

You inspired so many songs that became massive world-wide hits.

You travelled the world with him on tour. You helped him design his new merch and you wore his t-shirts with pride. You attended concerts in your freetime. You loved staying up all night, painting and drawing while he was writing about this mirage of a goddess, blessing his existence with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

He was addicted to you.

He was crazy for you.

And he went crazy on you.

for research purposes and not because i wasted my time hearing eminem talk about stuff i don’t understand so i could stare at jake’s thighs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP_cKP4OjsA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whV5oQDvVWE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGqC9URTJIQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5imXD1LPnwo

and finally, for good measure :

@gyll-yee-haw​ ily

[mayraki]

CHAPTER TWO

“the cell buddies reunit”

CHAPTER ONE

SERIES MASTERLIST

MY MASTERLIST

who is max belinsky?

concept boards for the new characters

summary: Max Belinsky and JJ Maybank are the two troublemakers of Outer Banks. Going to parties, getting into trouble, having an attitude and being the two people you don’t mess with are the perfect ways to describe them. What would happen when the two people who seem to have trouble follow them around meet? One thing is fore sure, they didn’t expect this outcome.

“Bitch! Wake the fuck up!” That’s the first thing Max heard when her mind woke up on that Sunday morning. She opened her sleepy eyes to see her blonde best friend, Sam, on the side of the bed looking at her with a big smile.

Sam Lester, Max’s parter in crime. The one who was always up for a good party, being the blonde girl every boy was after, looking like the most innocent girl but being the total opposite, and dancing all night. She had problems with her attitude, just like Max, that’s how they became friends: after defending a Pogue from a Kook in primary school. Since then, they were inseparable, being each other’s number on and other half.

“How the hell did you get into my house?” Max asked letting her elbows hold her head up.

“Your brother let me in.” She said shrugging her shoulders but Max looked at her confused.

“But Fred is supposed to be at work..”

“Oh, no, no. Cody let me in.”

“Damn it, he’s not supposed to open the door when someone knocks.” Max got quickly up from bed to talk to his little brother but when she noticed Sam was giving her a innocent smile, she stopped and lifted her eyebrow. “What did you do?”

“I may have yelled ‘Dude let me in’ multiple times when you didn’t answer your phone. I think he got annoyed and that’s why he let me in, but let’s just say it was because he recognised me and not because my voice is annoying.”

“Sam, you have to stop yelling to come into my house.” Max said and started to changer her pijama into some comfortable clothes. “One day my parents are going to be here and I don’t think they would like to be woken up by your screams.” She finished changing and then walked out of her room to look for her little brother.

“It’s not my fault that you’re a super heavy sleeper and you don’t hear anything!” Sam said while following her. “And talking about your parents, do you know when are they coming home?”

Max let out a little sigh. She didn’t like to talk about her parents, specially since she hadn’t seen them in person in a long time. “We spoke yesterday, they still don’t know.”

Sam knew about her situation, and how Max felt about it, so she just nodded and carried on following her best friend around the house.

“Cody!” Max yelled. Seconds later, her fourteen year old brother appeared on the living room with messy hair and half closed eyes. “Looking good, dude.” She said trying to hold on a laugher after seeing her little brother’s conditions.

“Well, if your best friend hadn’t come so early I would’ve been able to sleep fifteen more minutes.” He said annoyed and Sam walked to where he was with a smile on her face.

“Oh c’mon, are you mad at me for not being able to sleep fifteen more minutes?”

“Fifteen minutes are fifteen minutes!”

“What is it with this family and their love for sleeping!” Sam said shaking her head.

“We appreciate the little things in life.” Max said and then walked closer to her brother. “Fred told me that he’s going to be spend the night at the hotel and-”

“Oh, wait, that means you’re cooking tonight? I can’t have pasta again or I’ll die!”

“Don’t be so dramatic! And maybe you can do your own cooking from now on if you don’t like my lovely meals.” Sam and Cody gave each other looks and Max opened her mouth offended. “Fine, I won’t do my famous sauce anymore. Your loss. But that’s not why I called you... Fred told me that he’s going to come back tomorrow morning because some old rich people are at the hotel and his boss wants him there all day.”

“So that means I have to make lunch today?” Cody said like it was not the first time it happened. Because it wasn’t.

Three siblings living in the same house trying to take care of each other it’s harder than it looks. Fred Belinsky, being the older child, he was the responsable one. Took over the ‘father’ place since he had no other option. Found the opportunity to get a job at one of the most popular hotels in Outer Banks. Being there was a huge money maker, but, that meant more hours and more work. Max, the middle child, being just a teenager, was able to found a part-time job at a local clothes store called ‘Ocean Drive’. Wasn’t much, but it was enough to help the family. And last but not least, Cody, the messy and opinionated one. He had always something to say and he didn’t mind being honest, the type to say and then think. He cleaned pools now and then, but being the youngest and having no experience at all, he couldn’t help in anything else than on the house.

“So, what happend last night?” Sam asked Max once they were out the house, walking towards the ‘Ocean Drive’.

“Well, I have to do 24 hours of community service. Nothing serious.” Max shrugged her shoulders. Deputy Miller’s words came into her mind and she looked down.

“I feel so bad! I wish a could help you! Fuck it, I’ll be there. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m pretty sure Officer Johnson is going to be there watching, you won’t be able to help me.”

“I don’t give a shit about Johnson, he’s an asshole.” Sam shrugged her shoulders and Max nodded, letting out a little laugh.

“Don’t feel bad, I won’t be alone anyway.”

“What?” Sam furrowed her eyebrow confused.

“I haven’t told you. I’m going to do it with the one and only JJ Maybank.”

“Whaaaaat?” Sam asked surprised. “Yeah! I heard he got into some trouble last night at a party.” She stopped to think and then added after letting out a sigh. “Kooks, isn’t it?” Max nodded.

“Annoying Kooks. What else?”

“So... JJ Maybank, huh?” She shook her head. “I don’t really understand what the girls see on him? He’s cool and all, but what else?”

Max didn’t answer immediately. There was something intriguing about him, she wanted to know more. Yes, they would often cross each other on parties, but never actually talked or looked at each other more than when people talked about what one of them did. Max never expected to feel this way about him. So she just shrugged her shoulders and carried on walking to the her job.

“Looking like a whole damn meal.” Sam said after Max opened the door and she saw her with her party outfit.

Max let out a little laugh and then turned around to see her brother on the couch reading some old comic. “Don’t forget, dinner is in the fridge, don’t open-”

“Don’t open the door to strangers, I know, Max. It’s not my first time being alone in the house.” Cody said without taking his eyes away from the comic.

Max nodded and then closed the door behind her. The night was beautiful and the sky was full of stars, the wind was not cold which made the walking to beach more enjoyable. Max and Sam were talking about the plans for the week but then they were cut off by some Kooks walking pass them.

“Looking good for some Pogues.” A blonde guy said and the others laughed.

“Looking bad for someone with money.” Max said quickly.

Sam let out a loud laugh and one of the guys locked eyes with her. “Why don’t you guys forget about that lame party your friends are throwing and come join us?”

Max and Sam locked eyes with each other and then a loud laugh came out of their mouths simultaneously.

“Something funny?” The same guy asked.

“Yeah, it’s hilarious that you guys think that you’re on our league!” Max said while laughing before turning around and continue walking towards the beach, leaving the Kooks behind.

“Oh, I really needed that tonight.” Sam said and Max nodded with a smile. “Making fun of Kooks always makes me feel better.”

“You know what else makes me feel better?” Max said once the music that was coming from the beach started to get louder. “Beer!”

After grabbing some bottles, they decided to sit down on the side of the beach and enjoy the feeling of the alcohol hitting their bodies. The party was full of people dancing, drunk teenagers, locals trying to hit on tourons, and Pogues having the best time of their lives while playing some beer pong. But Max wasn’t paying attention to any of that, she was too focused on the conversation she was having with her best friends, until some arms went around her neck giving her a hug from behind.

“Here’s my cell buddy!” Max turned her head to see JJ next to her with a cup of beer on his hand.

“Having fun JJ?” Max said with a little smile after seeing JJ drank his entire drink in one big sip.

“I am now that you’re here, princess.” Max quickly shook her head and grabbed JJ’s arm, pulling it away from her shoulders.

“Don’t call me princess.”

“But I like that nickname for you, baby!” Max rolled her eyes and got up from where she was. “Don’t get mad!” She was about to walk away but then JJ grabbed her hand, making her take a brisk step back that almost made her fall into the sand. Max annoyed, turned around to see her hand and JJ’s. She then looked up to lock eyes with him but he was frozen, his eyes were wide open at the realisation to what he just did, and the regret. Max lifted and eyebrow once JJ looked up and he quickly let go of her hand. “Sorry dude!”

“Uh, I don’t know what the fuck was that..” Sam waved her hand between Max and JJ. “But I’m Sam, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Sam. I’m JJ, Max’s cell buddy.” JJ winked at Max, she gave him an obvious fake smile and then proceeded to take a big sip of her beer.

“There you are dude!” A guy said walking towards JJ. He then was followed by a another guy, and a familiar girl. Max immediately recognised Kie Carrera, the only rich kid Max didn’t hate. Their parents were good friends when they were kids, they would often hang out and have fun together. But slowly drifted apart, but the fun memories were still there and if they crossed each other they wouldn’t miss the opportunity to hug each other and remember the old times.

“Max!” Kie said after locking eyes with Max. She ran towards her and wrapped her arms around her back, making it into a tight hug. “I haven’t seen you since summer started, what have you been up to?”

“Getting intro trouble, that’s for sure!” JJ said behind her. Kie rolled her eyes at her drunk friend and then came back to Max.

“He’s not wrong.” Max said shrugging her shoulder and Kie just let out a little laugh before turning to Sam, who walked up to them.

Sam let out a little nervous smile after locking eyes with Kie. “I’m Sam.”

Max was going back and forth between her two friends. She had never seen her best friend like this, she was giving nervous laughter at Kie’s words and then playing with her fingers on and on. But that thought was cut off when some people started to scream in excitement at some popular song that just started to play.

“You know what I missed the most about our adventures when we were kids?” Max asked turning to her friends. Kie furrowed her eyebrows waiting for an answer. “Our dances on top the the kitchen table.” A smile appeared on Kie’s face. Sam just lifted her arms into the air excited and walked to the group of people dancing, followed by her two friends.

“I hope our dances now are not like our dances back then.” Kie said jokingly and Max let out a little laugh, before letting the music guide her body.

Max didn’t knew how many songs she danced with the girls. Her two hands weren’t enough if she wanted to count them. She looked down at her cup and realized that it was empty, so she turned to her friends and pointed at the cup, they both nodded understanding and Max was on her way to the Kegger.

Once her cup was refilled, a slight pain appeared on her feet so she decided to sit down on the sand and enjoy the view of Sam and Kie dancing like crazy to the song that was playing. She let out a little laugh when Sam threw her hands into the air and started to wave them, she never failed to make Max laugh. That happy feeling she had inside went away when she looked around the people dancing and saw the Kook from before. She rolled her eyes annoyed and then continued drinking the beer, she was starting to enjoy the music but when the noise of people moving around next to her made her look up and see some people making a circle around some guys.

She got up and quickly walked towards Sam, who was now looking at the boys they were circling around.

“What happend?” Max asked Sam once she was next to her, but she just shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

Max made her way closer to see what was going on, and when she saw who was the one making all this fuss, she furrowed her eyebrows confused.

“Take it back.” JJ said at the blonde Kook angrily.

The Kook let out a loud laugh and then looked around, he then stopped once he locked eyes with Max. He let out a little arrogant smile and then went back to JJ. “There she is.”

Max looked around confused. “Huh?”

“Why would I take it back? It’s the truth.” He said proudly. Max noticed that what the guy was talking about made JJ even more angry. “I would love to take her home with me tonight.”

“Excuse you?” Max quickly said while walking closer to him. “What did you just say?”

“Don’t deny it baby! You would love to.”

“I would rather drown than go home with you, dickhead.”

“You heard the lady, now, back off dude.” JJ said. But the Kook let out a little smile and then continued to ignore JJ, by turning to Max and walking closer to her. Max noticed that JJ was ready to grab the guy by the neck of his shirt to pull him back, but Max was faster, throwing the drink she had on her hand to the Kook.

Without hesitating, Max grabbed JJ’s hand and started to ran away knowing that the Kooks would go after them both.

“You bitch!” The kook yelled and when Max looked back at them, she noticed that him and his group were running after them. But luckily for JJ and Max, they were both pretty good at running away from people.

“Holy shit!” JJ yelled after letting out a big laugh.

“Just keep running you idiot!” Max was still grabbing JJ’s while running, she was the one pulling him making sure he was behind her.

“Where the fuck are you taking me?” Max turned around at a dark corner on the street trying to lose the Kooks. “Are you going to kill me?!” JJ said after looking at his surroundings.

“If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t be taking you away from those Kooks!” Max yelled. She then let out a little smile when she saw her house once she stepped out of the dark alley.

She quickly opened the front door after letting go of JJ’s hand and she pushed him inside.

“Do you see them?” JJ asked when Max stared to look out the window.

“I don’t, but I don’t think they saw us getting inside.” Max let out a big relief breath and then let her back rest on the wall.

“Nice house.” JJ said while looking around. “Are you parents home?” JJ turned to Max and she shook her head. “Wow, you bring me home when your parents aren’t here? Max... buy a boy dinner first.”

She let out a little laugh and then started to walk to the kitchen. “In your dreams, Maybank. Besides, my little brother is here.”

“Your brother?” JJ asked, and like a calling spell, Cody walked into the kitchen.

“You bring a guy home when Fred isn’t? Seriously Max?” Cody said lifting an eyebrow.

“That’s what I said little dude!” JJ said and Cody turned to him.

“JJ Maybank?” Cody asked and then a little smile appeared on his face. “You’re like the best surfer in Outer Banks!”

“Well, I don’t like to brag, but I kinda am.” JJ nodded proudly and Max rolled her eyes.

“Don’t like to brag, huh?” Max asked but the boys ignored her once they started to talk about surfing. She stood there watching the boys talk excitedly about boards and the best waved to surf on. “I don’t like this.” Max shook her head and they finally turned to her.

“What? I can’t be friends with your little brother?”

“You’re a bad influence!” Max pointed at JJ and he took his hand to his chest pretending to be offended.

“Oh, because you’re a great influence.” Cody said sarcastically. JJ turned to him with a proud smile and then nodded.

“Nice, bro.” JJ handed his hand to Cody and they did a handshake like they been friends since birth.

“Unbelievable!” Max threw her hands into the air annoyed and the proceeded to pour herself a drink of water. “Cody, it’s late, go to your room!”

“Ok, then, I’ll be listening to music so you two don’t have to worry about me.” He said before walking away. Max opened her mouth surpised and embarrassed but JJ just let out a little laugh.

“Cody!” She felt her cheeks burn so she took a long sip to hide it. “Sorry for that.”

“Don’t be, he’s a smart kid, clearly he noticed this obvious tension between us two and he mentioned it. He’s doing my job.” JJ walked closer to Max and took her glass of water out of her hands. She punched the side of his upper arm and that JJ threw a little bit of water out of his mouth. “Ouch!”

“You totally deserved that.” Max shrugged her shoulder and then walked to the living room, to look out the window to see if the Kooks were still looking for them. JJ’s words “Take it back.” came into the mind once she sat down on the floor and the curiosity hit her body.

“Are they around?” JJ asked once he sat down infront of her, infront of the door.

“No.” She said and then closed the curtain. “Why did you got so angry when that guy said something about me?” She asked when silence surrounded them.

He looked down while thinking the answer. JJ was questioning if he should say the truth or not, but nothing else was coming to his mind, so he decided to tell the real reason. “I don’t like when Kooks say something like that about my friends.”

“Oh, we’re friends now?” Max said with a little smile.

“Yeah, I mean, you brought me to your home when your parents aren’t here, after a party, at least we have to be friends right?” JJ said with a little smirk.

“Oh, yeah, because not being friends with a girl stopped you before huh?”

“Is that how you see me? That hurts!” JJ pretended that his heart hurted making his back fall on the floor. Max rolled his eyes but then a little laugh came out of her mouth. “Hey! I made you laugh, that’s a win for me!”

“With all jokes aside..” Max grabbed JJ’s arm to pull him up and lock eyes with him. “Thank you for having my back, but you don’t have to fight someone for me, I can handle myself.”

“I know, but that’s what friends do.” JJ shrugged his shoulders.

Max let out a little smile while looking at JJ. She noticed those blue eyes he had and that they looked more beautiful under the moon light that was coming through the window. She quickly looked away when she realized that she was staring and went back to looking through the window.

“I don’t think they’re looking for us anymore, you can go if you want.” Max got up and JJ did the same.

“Why are you kicking me out so soon, princess? But I’m going to miss you!”

“Don’t call me princess! Besides, we have community service tomorrow, remember?”

“Ah yes, i’m going to sleep more peacefully now.” JJ let out a relief breath and Max shook her head.

“Bye bye, Maybank...” She said after opening the door and moving to the side so he could walk outside.

“Bye bye, Belinsky.” He repeated her tone and then left the house, after playfully blowing a kiss to Max and leaving the girl with a little smile on her face.

CHAPTER THREE

here’s part two! I would love to know what you guys think of the series so far! :)

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[toloveawarlord]

Ch. 1

Characters: Coralie Van Alst, Mozart, Comte

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ (Please let me know if you want to be tagged)

A/N: Finally another Ikevamp oc! This was the most voted for in the interest check on the 25 Days of Christmas Voting! Thank you to everyone who voted for this oc! Enjoy the first chapter of my little musician and her unknowing meeting of her favorite composer!

Another event. Night after night, the teenager could be found in a lavish dress, violin case in her left hand, and her benefactor, Grant, hovering behind her, speaking to clients interested in her talents. His rules were absolute.

One: Don’t speak unless prompted.

Two: Every performance shall be perfection.

Three: Always please the clients

Four: No outside relations beyond the job.

She’d never known others her own age. Her education lacking, only taught basic reading and writing along with etiquette. Music took up most of her days, whether practice or event. Her talent coveted by many, but they never acknowledged the work that she put in.

“Ah, Comte! What a wonderful party. We greatly appreciate the invitation. Your pianist, Wolfram, I’d like to have him play a duet with my Coralie.” His hands rested on the young girl’s shoulders.

The regal man he spoke to gave an empty smile until his golden eyes met the mismatched amethyst and blue ones, where it turned quite warm. “Monsieur DuPont, I was unaware you had a daughter.”

Grant chuckled, digging his fingers into her bared skin when she didn’t immediately return the friendly smile. “No. This lovely, gifted violinist is sadly not of my blood. I am simply showcasing her talent here in Paris.”

“I see. However, I do not dictate whom Wolfram plays with, but I am more than willing to introduce her to him. That is, if you’d like.”

The tension was thick in the air between the two powerful men. Most groveled in the great Grant DuPont’s presence. This man was quite different. Coralie dare not check to see how her benefactor reacted to Comte’s veiled pleasantries. 

The musician they spoke of had been researched, like all with potential to leverage for the young girl to be seen by the most patrons. Wolfram Theophillius Perti. He’d been compared to the likes of Mozart. Coralie had yet to hear him play, but if he were in the same league, then for the first time, she actually wanted to meet him.

Most of those she played with were subpar, and she preferred to play alone, but she could never voice those opinions.

Thank them with a smile. Stroke their ego. Laugh at their cruel jokes.

Being a musician in this world was hard work, competitive. Many believed it not a place for women, much less a child. Some were unkind to her, jealous of her ability, of how a fifteen-year-old could play circles around them.

Always be charming, my dear. Dazzle them with your performance so no one can argue that you don’t belong.

The words of her father echoing in the back of her mind, bringing a small amount of comfort.

Grant smiled tensely but relented. He placed a sloppy kiss on her temple, all his affection for show. “Do take good care of my lovely Coralie. She’s very precious to me.” His tone light but she recognized it for what it was.

She was a commodity that brought him fame and fortune.

“I certainly will. Mademoiselle Coralie, I will escort you to Wolfram.”

With a soft thank you, she fell in step beside Comte. Eyes followed her wherever she went. Envy. Intrigue. Lust. Many high-class gentlemen wanted something from her, but never directly addressed her in fear of angering DuPont.

Somehow, it felt as though it wasn’t just her, they were watching.

“I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing you play, but the talk among my friends is all high praise. Are you from Paris?” He’d heard many things. The young girl having only been here for a half a year and yet all social circles knew of her.

“No, Monsieur. My homeland is Belgium. Monsieur DuPont has been most gracious to house me and guide me in performing while I am here.” Always praise the one who has done so much for her family. 

Comte hummed in response. He’d never liked the man. Too many rumors of his mistreatment of his wards, throwing them away when they were no longer useful. How long would it be until this young girl became nothing to him? “Ah, Wolfram, a moment please.”

The gaggle of men and women around the musician scattered at their arrival. Although he smiled at her, she knew how empty it was. Forced, just pleasant enough, and never reaching his eyes. He listened to Comte’s introduction, to the reason she’d been brought to him. Mozart hadn’t the opportunity to respond before Comte was called away by another gentleman. Left with only the girl, he politely declined, “I’ve completed my obligation to play for the evening. Perhaps another time.”

Coralie suspected that to be a placation. The pianist had no intention of playing another time. “Please reconsider. It would be advantageous to duet with me.”

“Advantageous? I’m in no need of benefactors or patrons. Of what advantage would it be to me?” Mozart lost his facade for a split second. His violet eyes narrowed then softened. There were far too many people within earshot. “Forget the question. I simply do not play with partners.”

Yes, she’d discovered that in her research.

It’s of no consequence. You perform a duet.

Her benefactor would be quite upset if she didn’t get this man to agree. Who could say what he might do to her family? “I understand. Most in our profession do not have the aptitude for an impromptu performance.”

“Precisely-”

“I am not one of them,” Coralie said, bringing her mismatched eyes up to meet his gaze. If he’d been anyone else, she would not push so hard. But she needed to hear him play, to know if he was worthy of being compared to the great Mozart. “None of them possess my skill. Please perform one song with me.” Coralie bent forward into a pleading bow, one thing that she was not allowed to do.

Being polite, gentle, quiet-- those were her instruction.

Never bow to those with inferior skill for that will only make you appear desperate.

If Grant were watching her, he’d surely be incredibly displeased. He likely wouldn’t understand why she felt the need to. Coralie had to make Wolfram understand how much she wanted to play with him.

“One song.” His voice low, filled with irritation, but it brought her attention up to his sour features. Mozart might admire how brazen the child was, and perhaps he relented because she reminded him of his human self. “One song and then you will never approach me again.”

A single chance was all she needed to prove her worth.

The pair didn’t speak as they prepared. Mozart took a seat on the bench; violet irises observed the practiced and careful way she took the violin from the case. The way she’d lit up at his song choice confused him.

Mozart’s Sonata 16 in C Major, first movement, do you know it?

Of course, she was well versed in all Mozart’s songs. He was her favorite composer to study and practice. Coralie rested against the chinrest, waiting for his first note. She felt the violin as an extension of her own body.

The crowd grew silent as they began, allowing the melody to flow around the room like the wind, gentle and constant. The strings caressed her fingers, sound pure and sweet. It mixed seamlessly with the rich, crisp tune of the piano. Two complete strangers in perfect harmony.

It was a reintroduction. Words failed to establish common ground. It was in their playing, their ability to create beautiful music, that they could begin to understand each other. Wielding their instruments was like barring their soul.

They complimented each other, piano and violin intertwining like polished dance partners gracefully gliding across a ballroom floor. They’d captured every ear, every heart with a poised rendition of Mozart’s Sonata.

It was only once the song came to a close that Coralie returned to the real world, applause erupting. Truly, this man was most incredible, like no other she’d been forced to duet with. He commanded the keys like a captain steering a ship through a deadly storm; firm and unrelenting, not afraid of the powerful sound. But he also contained a gentleness, making the ivory keys sing as the birds at the dawn of a new day.

Socialites swarmed around him, flocked to her. Their chatter equivalent to nails on a chalkboard to Coralie. She safely secured her violin in the case before slipping out to the balcony. She wanted to ingrain that performance to her memory.

The girl swam in the melody so fresh within her. Her body alight with chills. Never had a duet affected her so, sounded so alluring. This night would become one of her most treasured.

“It wasn’t unbearable. Although, I’d say you’ve plenty of room to improve.” Wolfram’s voice grounded her back in the world void of their dazzling melody. He didn’t make a habit of chasing after other musicians, but this girl... “You deviated from the song as written.”

“It complimented the original composition,” she countered.

“Irrelevant. You should always play as the composer intended.”

Coralie turned her gaze up to the night sky. The stars crowded between the gray clouds twinkled in applause. “I pay no attention to anybody’s praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings.”

Silence followed her statement.

“No one can say what he intended, but he was right. Music is deeply rooted, entangled, in feeling. Any simpleton with a few lessons can play the notes on the page. What makes a true musician is the ability to breathe real, raw, emotion into the song, don’t you think?” Coralie turned to face him, a tender smile on her lips. There were few who could understand why she felt that way.

Mozart hadn’t the chance to respond. He’d been quite shocked at her enlightened view on music. It was rare to find such passionate sentiment with one as talented as her. He would have not hated having a discussion, but the young violinist swayed on her feet, lashes brushing against her pale cheeks.

He barely caught her when she fell unconscious.

[oneweekoneband]

her Nebraska (1982)

In July I flew to Massachusetts with a plague on, and I felt that it was wrong, but my mother had begged and I’d been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads I’d memorized in high school. There’s no sidewalks, but the few feet of dirt between the craggy pavement and the open mouths of the fields serve all right for a single body in motion. When a truck comes up close from behind, the ground shakes, and I step away bouncingly from the street toward thigh-high yellow weeds and grass, and keep going. I was slowly picking my way back in that dirt, sweat-slick from only a plodding couple of miles in peak summer heat, and sucking the wet cotton of my mask in between my teeth on every inhale, when Taylor Swift announced she was releasing a surprise album produced by the guy from The National. Not the guy from The National, like, the voice, but the guy from The National whose photo was circulated on Twitter earlier this year as some kind of antifa super soldier, which isn’t the case, but would’ve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than I’d moved in years.

Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound we’ve been since we were really children. Time and its changes haven’t rid me of her, and what’s worse is I have never quite been able to wish they would, though I claim as much all the time. Countless hours of my one wild and precious life have been spent on endlessly analyzing the minutiae of Taylor Swift’s music, the mind that made it, the real world events which influenced it. And though all the while I have known she is only a person, and that people, while each strange and lovely in their own ways, are, in the end, mostly dull, needful in just the regular manner, the fantasy is better, the sick dream of a megalomaniac songstress, curious, thrilling, probably evil, and I choose that. I don’t know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? I’m a renowned expert. I’ve always eaten up stories—movies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face “cracking open like an egg”—like a starved dog. I’m obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, I’m too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and that’s all right—I mean, what the hell? We’re here together just dying... Let’s enjoy—but is an affair best undertaken with the knowledge that everyone alive has their own complex interiority, as unruly as your own, and that you, a stranger, are not in any real way connected to the lawless, blurry middle of that celebrity, and will never be. It’s freeing and fun to know this. I mean, these people are basically in your employ. Glamorous dollhouse dwellers. Acknowledging that uncrossable distance allows for a different, healthier closeness of pure imagination. My feelings, then, can comfortably be at once both fiercely intense and entirely silly. I am a foremost scholar in the art of the Taylor Swift who exists in my head. The real person raised in Pennsylvania I don’t know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, I’m sure they’re perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but that’s still all they are. Taylor Swift, figure of the cultural imagination, is the Jodie Comer to my Sandra Oh in Killing Eve, annoying and pretty in frills, taunting me endlessly and holding us trapped together in a dance of most enchanting death. But the real Taylor Swift has favorite bed sheets and a social security number and a British boyfriend, none of which I have any desire to know about, and if I saw her at a restaurant I’d politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. There’s nobody on Earth I’d stand in line to speak to, but then I’ve been speaking to a certain figment of Taylor Swift for nearly half my life.

I went to a Taylor Swift concert the night before I moved into college in 2009. My father’s work friend, firefighter by day, near professional gambler by night, got comped tickets to the Fearless Tour stop taking place at the nearby casino, and he let me have them as a reward, mainly, for happening to be seventeen. Live in-person and performed acoustically, “Fifteen” made me cry. A few years after that, in the thick, sticky part of my first post-college summer, I wrote approximately twenty-three million words about her in these very pages.  (”Pages”) At that point, Taylor’s most recent release was 2012’s Red, and the work I produced that long ago July about Taylor and her career, writing I was fairly pleased with at the time, feels now, besides just being extremely clearly written by a twenty-one year old, strange to me for the way it favors the sweet over the sour almost uniformly. There is a wholesome kind of ardor in that writing which maybe I’ve outgrown the ability to hold. Or maybe Taylor just proceeded to spend the next half a decade plus releasing one bad single after another, and it was taste—and trespasses against taste—and not some shift in my nature which altered the tenor of our bond. I have real love for my particular image, gleaned from public statements and published art, of smart, bizarre famous woman Taylor Swift, and I admire the bulk of her output very much. I’m just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldn’t swing it, and, anyway, I’m not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But we’re older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this month—Taylor will, also this December, turn thirty-one—I regard Taylor Swift warily, like an ex with whom you have a tentative friendship, perpetually on the brink of falling one way or the other into hatred or delight, only to wobble back the opposite direction again at the slightest provocation, but still, despite best efforts, even, I regard her all the time. 

folklore was released at midnight on July 24th 2020, but I was at a cabin in rural Vermont without Internet or cell service. I drank Bud Light seltzers with my mother while watching the eerie pandemic return of Major League Baseball, and when I got into a strange bed there I stewed, knowing there were people out in the world all over who were hearing Taylor Swift songs I never had, and that this was a fundamental wrong, a disruption in the balance of the universe. I listened to it the next morning in a Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot. 

And folklore is great. That’s the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But it’s great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didn’t expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, I’ve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. I’d say it even, perhaps especially, while she stubbornly fed me gruel. Or worse, gruel with the occasional whiff of something better. With a ripe, little raspberry dropped into the slop. The bright, villainous thrill of “Getaway Car” made me believe Taylor, my Taylor, was in there somewhere under the lacquer of sequins and synth, which, while not objectionable by default, seemed a costume, and an ill-fitting one. The lived-in world of “Cornelia Street” made those old scars sting. That gay “Delicate” video. When she did “Call It What You Want” on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable “ME!”, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989’s “Clean” was the carrot. I was Charlie Brown, and Taylor my Lucy, yanking the football back again and again. Over drinks I still yelled that Taylor Swift’s next album would be, “her Nebraska”, referring to my favorite Bruce Springsteen record, and learned to live with that egg on my face for good. I suppose I even came to like it. There was something inherently funny in taking up, like, “blind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swift” as my totally inane personal cause du jour, and eventually it was a bit, a gag I performed to be obstinate and didactic, but way down somewhere awful near my kidneys I meant it the whole while. And then she did it. A pandemic befell the world and amid a sea of human suffering Taylor Swift remembered she can write. She wrote, and with a massive, crucial assist from Aaron Dessner, whose music on this record is sometimes so beautiful it actually angers me, as the last thing I needed in already perilous times was to be made to try and marry my uniquely perverse emotional responses to beloved divorced dad band The National and fucking Taylor Swift,  she made an album which, if not her Nebraska, per se (I’ve come to realize that a major part of believing Taylor Swift will one day make an album I find as quietly devastating and gorgeous as Nebraska is knowing that no album will ever actually be Her Nebraska... That each will, rather, to me, be more and more evidence that it’s coming still, more proof that the limit is untouched, on and on ad infinitum, or at least until the seas take us into a place of salty peace.) is a shocking credit to all my hard-fought and deluded confidence. folklore is great. This fact has made me feel almost equally as disoriented from my understanding of the world as the time-melting COVID-19 lockdowns have, and it turned my Spotify year in review annual collective AI humiliation kink thing into a glaring indictment of my mental state, but still, I mean... It’s great.

In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to cover—what a thrill it is to hear Taylor say “fuck”; Taylor’s terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of “the last great american dynasty”; “because my ass is located at the back of my body”; the bit in last year’s “Lover” where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to “leave the Christmas lights up til January” is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesn’t employ domestic staff to take their lights down does this; how reputation is the best of the Taylor Swift records released in the latter half of the 2010s, actually, and the people who can’t see that are cowards—but intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, she—that tie-in marketing eldritch terror—always does.

[forever--darling]

not too far away - s.m. (part eleven)

a/n: where he finally has to leave and return back to L.A.

warnings: 7.6k words of fluff shawn, lots of feelings, a nightmare, and a long goodbye

XI. a loving heart is the the truest wisdom

him 

It felt unreal. Shawn literally thought he was floating on a cloud because there she was sat across the table of him, pasta on the corner of her mouth as she laughed at the way he was teasing her. Her hair was thrown up out of her face, and she was dressed in one of his hoodies because she couldn’t find one of her own at his apartment. Her hand would casually brush against his on the table and each time he swore his heart skipped a beat because finally here they were, together. 

Nothing was keeping them apart and there was no longer something dividing them. It was just the two of them at a cheap Italian restaurant tucked in a booth in the back corner. There were no cameras and no eyes pressuring them as they sat and enjoyed a good meal with instrumental music sounding through the speakers. For once Shawn didn’t have to be Shawn Mendes but just Shawn, and there wasn’t anyone else he wanted to share that with besides her. 

They had been friends for the last fifteen years of their life, with that small pause in between, and finally, nothing stood in their way. Shawn had wanted this since he was fourteen and knew that he wanted it at sixteen when he boarded that plane from Pickering and left her behind in tears wanting nothing more to admit his feelings to her. He never thought at twenty years old he would be sat across from his best friend at dinner, who he would later bring home to his apartment and kiss until her lips were swollen and bruised. 

Sure, they hadn’t labeled their relationship to official but Shawn knew that this right here was all the confirmation he needed. He didn’t know how the hell he was supposed to leave her in the morning to board a plane and head back to LA. After spending almost every day with her and going through this emotional roller coaster they called their relationship, he knew it would take some sort of toll on him. He might even end up being late for his flight because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to untangle his limbs from hers in the morning. She was finally his and now leaving her behind while he went back to his life as singer Shawn Mendes seemed like a crack to his chest. 

He missed his life in LA and missed the late night in the studios. There wasn’t a question about it, he loved his job but now there was something else he loved just as much, and that was scary. His career wasn’t easy to deal with on most days and he wanted nothing more than to wrap Y/N up in his arms and protect her from the harsh reality that outside of their little pink bubble everything wasn’t perfect. The media weren’t always the most positive towards Shawn’s relationships and if someone happened to snap one picture of the two of them, he knew everything would crumble to bits. 

It worried him, to know that someday she could potentially pull away from him again but this time because of the opinions other people had and his unhinged life. That’s why at the moment as he stared at the girl across the table that had bits of hair falling in her face and was bent over in sweet laughter, Shawn promised he would protect her. He would keep her hidden away from it all and keep her for himself. He would wrap her up in his arms and keep her safe from the danger that lies outside their bubbles and their apartments. Things had finally fallen into place, and he was not about to let the girl he had so easily fallen in love with slip through his fingers a second time. 

“Can you stop laughing at me,” Y/N whined, face red from embarrassment, pasta sauce dripping down her chin.

Shawn’s chest vibrated as he laughed, “Well, it’s not my fault that you completely missed your mouth.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair. You were distracting me,” she replied, trying to defend herself. 

Twirling a pasta noodle around on his fork, his stomach turned at the beautiful sounds of laughter that was falling from her mouth as her hands moved around frantically as she talked. “Distracted you? I was just eating my pasta.” 

“Sure, just eating your pasta. I’ve never seen anyone eat pasta that way,” she reasoned taking the napkin that sat next to her to wipe her chin. 

Crumbling it up, she dropped it onto the table next to her plate a spot of pasta sauce still located near her lips. She was smiling at him and Shawn smiled back dropping his fork onto the plate. “Are you making fun of the way I eat?” 

“No, not all,” she teased head tilting to the side in that adorable way he loved so much, “Just the way you eat pasta.” 

Shawn laughed again, shaking his head, as he glanced down towards his plate before going back to looking at her. Her smile had softened and she was staring at him with her hand propped under her chin, her dinner forgotten, along with the sauce on her face she was clearly still oblivious about. His amber orbs locked onto the white sauce and chuckled, reaching forward thumb out. Her expression turned to one of confusion but disappeared as she felt the pad of his thumb swipe along the corner of her lips. 

“I’m pretty sure, you would have gotten a little mad if I let you walk out with that still on your face,” Shawn smirked, sucking the remnants of the sauce off his thumb. 

Her mouth fell open agape and her eyes turned to slits at they way he sucked lightly onto the pad of his thumb. He knew by the look on her face that she wanted to say something to him about it but didn’t get to as the waitress appeared with a large smile spread across her face. An older lady, with black hair, brown eyes, and lines forming around her mouth and underneath her eyes. She had been nothing but kind to Shawn and Y/N the whole night and secretly thought they were adorable. 

“How’s everything tasted so far?” she asked, though in reality she had served the food fifteen minutes prior and had gotten too caught up with other tables to come over and check to see if everything tasted alright. 

Shawn offered the waitress a small smile and quickly responded before Y/N could, “Amazing.” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” the waitress replied getting ready to walk away but stopped as he continued. 

“Yeah, actually could we get some boxes for the food. If we could get the check too that would be lovely,” he sweet talked, noticing Y/N roll her eyes from across the table. 

The waitress’s smile widened, “Of course, I’ll get right on that for you, darling.” 

As she made her away from the table and out of earshot, Y/N leaned closer over the table and lowered her voice so only he could hear, “You’re such a kiss ass, you know that?” 

“What?” he fanned surprise, “I was just being polite because of the great service that we got tonight.” 

“Sure,” she responded, not sounding convinced at all. 

Reappearing, the waitress traded with Shawn. She dropped the foam boxes onto the table and in place took his credit card from him to pay for the meal. As soon as she was gone again, Y/N was reaching over the table to slap him in the arm. “I was supposed to pay this time!” 

He sent her a smirk, “Gotta be faster there, hun. Maybe next time.” 

Y/N slumped against the back of the booth, arms crossed over her chest as she pulled her lips into a pout that she and Shawn both knew was fake. “Why are we leaving so quickly anyways? It’s not even late. In fact, it’s only eight-thirty. Plus your flight doesn’t leave until nine tomorrow.” 

He knew what she was doing. She wasn’t entirely sure what was going on and as a way to make him admit to his devious plan, she was tripping him into telling her by asking questions and annoying him with reasons why they shouldn’t be in a hurry. And because he knew Y/N so well, Shawn didn’t fall for it. Even the pout didn’t work which would have if he wasn’t the guy who was sat across from her. 

He ignored the sulking that Y/N was doing across the table and instead piled both of his pasta and hers into one box so that he wouldn’t have to carry two and would leave a little more space in his fridge. As the foam topped closed over the pasta and locked in place, on time the waitress popped out with Shawn’s card. 

“Thank you for coming in tonight, guys,” she said kindly handing over the credit card. 

He took it and slipped it into his wallet as he replied, “No thank you so much. Everything tasted really amazing.”

“Well feel free to come back anytime,” the waitress smiled, “And have a lovely night.” 

“Yeah, you too,” Y/N spoke up, her pout wiped off of her face. 

Sending a small wave, the waitress walked away to tend to another table. Sliding out of the booth, Shawn pulled on his coat and zipped it up. And just as Y/N went to pull hers on, he grabbed it from the booth and held it open for her. A smile appeared on her face at the sweet gesture as she slid each arm into the sleeves and he pulled it up and onto her shoulders. Zipping it up, she started to make her way through the restaurant heading towards the door with Shawn’s hand placed on her lower back the whole time, the box of pasta in his other hand. 

The rest of the ride in his jeep back towards his apartment, he refused to tell Y/N what was going on his mind. The only kind of response he gave to all her questions, was a gentle squeeze on her thigh from his hand. Soon she had given up and fallen back into the seat defeated. It was about an eight-minute drive back to his apartment and once Shawn had parked his jeep in his normal parking spot in the parking ramp, she had jumped from the passenger seat. 

She bolted for the ramp’s staircase, and he followed after her slowly, pasta box warming his hand. Once they made it up to his apartment, she had tapped her foot impatiently against the cemented floor in the hallway as Shawn unlocked the door with his keys. As soon as it was unlocked, Y/N pushed past him to get into the apartment. It was dark inside with only a single lamp from the living room providing a soft glow of light.

She turned on her heels as Shawn closed the door behind him and she stared at him with a look that said, “Okay you can tell me now.” 

He smiled at how impatient she was because in reality he only made them leave the restaurant so early because he wanted to kiss her. Ever since he noticed that pasta sauce on her lips that’s all he had been thinking about and now all he could think about was how he just had to set the pasta down on the counter and then she was all his. However, the carry-out box didn’t quite make it to the counter. Actually, it didn’t make it past a few meters of the door. Shawn took one step away from the front door and his elbow bumped into a nearby coat rack sending the foam box of pasta to the ground. 

A look of panic crossed his face because he was in no mood to have to clean the floor but felt relieved to notice that none had spilled and the pasta was still safely lying within the box. Maybe a little shaken up, but at least not all over his floor. He knew he should just pick up. Just move it into the kitchen but it hadn’t spilled and as Shawn’s eyes moved up Y/N’s frame to settle onto her beautiful face, he said fuck it and crossed the few feet that kept them apart. His hands latched onto her hips and he backed her up against the wall in the entryway, a soft thud sounding through the apartment as her back hit the cold wall. 

His pupils were dilated and they were only able to focus on one thing, her plump lips. Shawn’s hands slipped under her, his hoodie, palms gripping the soft skin underneath gently. His lips were parted, his tongue quickly swiping across his upper lip moistening the pink area. He pressed his body harder against Y/N’s, his lips dying to taste hers. Knowing he couldn’t wait for a second longer he leaned in, heart beating loudly in his ears, as he expected his lips to fall against hers, but fell short as her voice rang through his ears. 

“Are you going to pick that up?” 

Shawn’s eyes fluttered open, and a moment of confusion crossed over his face as he stared at her, eyebrow raised, before it finally registered what she was talking about, “It’s fine.” 

“Fine,” she retorted the word sounding sour on her tongue as her hand gestured towards the box, “You dropped it on the floor.” 

If he wasn’t so focused on trying to fool around, he might have thought that her reaction to him dropping the foam box would have been adorable. But the reality was he was too turned on and aching to kiss her to think that it was adorable at the moment. “Yeah, but it’s still in the box,” he mumbled out, knee finding a way in between her legs, parting them. 

“Yeah but it’s still on the floor,” she argued, shutting down all of his advances for a fucking box of pasta, “I was going to eat that.” 

He sighed, warm breath fanning across her lips, “And you can still eat it. Later.” 

“Shawn-” 

“I’m trying to kiss you right now and you’re worried about the fucking pasta?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed, and clearly frustrated. 

As the words came out of his mouth, Y/N became silent to think about what he had said. It was like a switch had flipped in her head. She had realized what was actually happening in the situation and knew she sounded insane for going on about the leftovers of her dinner instead of Shawn’s lips that were glistening from his tongue wetting them. 

In that minute though that she took to think about it, Shawn rolled his eyes before slamming his lips onto hers. A small whine escaped her throat at the sudden feeling as she melted into his strong arms. After hours of being locked in his apartment, just kissing her, he knew almost every single one of her weaknesses. 

From the way, her legs would tremble when he would nibble on her bottom lip to the way she sighed happily in his mouth as his long nimble fingers ran through her short hair at the sides of her head. He knew that if his hand had inched its way down to her backside and gave it a squeeze that her mouth would open welcoming in his tongue. He had gotten accustomed to how her body responded to his but that still didn’t change the fact that fire would shoot into his stomach every time her leg would hook around his, pulling him into her or when her arms would wind around his neck to steady herself against his firm body. 

They had gone from kissing once at his apartment, to then again a week later at her birthday party, to now not being able to keep their lips off of each other. Maybe it was the high of all these new feelings finally being out in the open or maybe it was because of the fact that Shawn would be leaving for LA and didn’t know when he’d be back. Whatever the reasons were, they just couldn’t get themselves to stop kissing the other or getting familiar with the way the other’s body worked. To an extent of course. 

They hadn’t slept together, in fact, they hadn’t done more than the heavy make-out sessions. Y/N, not having experience, had nothing to do with it either because she wanted it as much as Shawn did. Fuck, did he want it? There were so many times when he would have to detach his lips from hers and untangle themselves so he could use to the bathroom to deal with himself. No, the reality was they wanted to take things slow, or slower. They had only ever been friends and all of this physical stuff was new in their friendship and in their relationship. It was something the both of them had been longing for since they were teenagers, and even though their feelings for each other had been building over the years and had recently exploded, they didn’t want to rush things and have it all falling apart later. 

Adrenaline was coursing through Shawn’s veins as a deep yearning had started to form in the pit of his chest. His hands had moved back up away from her ass to her waist, as he made work of sucking onto her bottom lip. She mewled at the feeling as her hands wandered across his back to his shoulders and down to where the zipper of his coat lied on his chest. Her fingers moved it down before she began to push the material off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor next to the now forgotten pasta. Quickly, she did the same with her jacket, which landed next to his. 

This was the point where Shawn thought that she would pull away and he would go about his business in the bathroom but instead, he felt her cold hands grasping at his back through his hoodie with all of her might as her lips continued to connect with his hungrily. Shawn knew that if they were going to stop they should soon or he might actually burst in his pants but she didn't stop. In fact, Y/N took it one step further. Her hands fell to his waist, manicured fingers curling around the green fabric of his hoodie. With her nose brushing against his, she began to raise her arms pulling the sweatshirt up exposing Shawn’s defined torso underneath. 

Before she can pull it up and over his head though, his hands moved to hers stopping the movement as his lips fell away, revealing his eyes that had turned to saucers. “Hey. Wait, wait, wait.” 

“What?” she asked, fingers tingling at how warm his skin was. 

Shawn’s eyes scanned over her face, from the way her eyes glistened in the dim lighting to how her hair was now slightly tangled from his wandering hands, and finally to her bright red lips that were swollen and glistening from his saliva. 

“Are you sure about this?” the way he asked was so soft and with so much care because though he would do this in a heartbeat he would wait longer for her if she wanted him too. 

Her lips curled into a soft smile, revealing her teeth, and Shawn swore that his heart had stopped for a mere second, “Yes. I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 

Instantly, his mouth widened in a smile, and couldn’t resist leaning in to place another kiss on her lips. This one is softer and slower. After a few seconds, he pulled away to be met with a confused look from Y/N on why he stopped. He didn’t say anything but instead sent her a cheeky grin as his arms moved down to wrap around her thighs, and in one swift motion he lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder. It felt unreal. Shawn felt like he was floating on a cloud and the only thing he could register as he made his way towards his bedroom was the string of giggles that had escaped Y/N Y/L/N’s mouth. 

+

her 

At first, it was peaceful. The waves moved back and forth slowly underneath your body as you laid across the top, stomach reaching for the sky. Your hair was spread out around your head and your fingers curled in out and of the light blue water. There were no other sounds that filled your ears besides the sound of the waves moving back and forth and your steady breathing. At first, it was peaceful and then it wasn’t. 

One minute you were floating and the next, stuck in a glass box that was locked sinking into the depths of the water. You held your breath for as long as you could, hands punching and slapping against the wall. Thuds sounding through the water with each force you sent against the sheet of glass. You screamed, bubbles forming around you, as the water began to fill your lungs. It was burning your throat and your eyes were screwed shut. Your limbs were scorching and you could see the rays of light from the surface of the water moving further and further out of reach. At that moment the pain was unbearable, all burning and stretching and filling up every single part of your body, feeling like you were on fire and then all at once it stopped. 

A loud gasp ripped through your throat as you shot up in the bed, a sheet of sweat covering your body as you breathed heavily, chest rising and falling. Your hair was sticking to your forehead and goosebumps rose across the surface of your skin. Frantically, your eyes looked around the room until they fell onto the figure beside you. Shawn was asleep, face buried deep in his pillow, bare limbs spread across his side of the bed. A cold draft traveled along your skin causing a shiver to run down your spine. Glancing down at yourself, the sheets had dropped from your chest, revealing your bare torso. You sighed, it was just a dream. 

Pushing the damp hair off of your forehead, you slipped out of the bed pulling on your underwear that lay discarded on the floor near the nightstand. You made your way towards the bathroom, also grabbing a navy blue t-shirt that was Shawn’s that sat in a hamper basket. You threw it over your body and tiptoed into the large bathroom, closing the door behind you. 

Flicking the light switch, the white bulbs illuminated sending the whole dark room lit. You stood in front of the mirror taking in your appearance. Your face looked pale, lips dry, bags forming underneath your eyes, skin shiny from the sweat. Tucking the short hair behind your ears, you leaned over the sink to splash water on your warm skin. Your eyes closed, and the images from the dream, nightmare, flashed behind your lids. 

You could feel the panic setting in. Tears began to swell in your tear ducts as your throat felt tight. Your hands were gripping the sink tightly and it was getting hard to breathe. Eyes fluttering open, the tears all fell at once. Like the timer had gone off for some sprinklers and now all you could feel was the water that was spilling down your face. Your lips were slightly parted but no sobs raked through you. It was a silent cry, one that happened slowly and quietly. It didn’t take as much energy out of you compared to a full-on breakdown which meant it lasted longer and felt just as painful. 

Your eyes were getting puffy at this point, face hot and red. Hands trembling, knuckles white from how tight your grip was on the sink, head pounding. Your stomach was lurching and you felt like you were drowning as much as you had been in that dream. That same dream you hadn’t had in almost a year. One that had only caused you to wake up shaking and in tears when you were in the hospital. 

On those nights where your heartbeat had slowed down and your breathing had sounded heavy. It was those nights that you were barely holding on and everyone around you was on their last shrill of hope. That’s why you were standing in Shawn’s bathroom panicking because that dream only ever appeared when you had been close to death so why now? Why was it making another appearance when your cancer wasn’t close to being as bad as it was before and why a day before your surgery? 

Your surgery was scheduled for the day after tomorrow, the day after Shawn’s flight back to LA. He wasn’t going to know, you decided, because it was something he didn’t need to deal with. You had told your parents and James a few days after the party and their faces had dropped, never seeing them look that broken before right after they had been so thankful for your health and for your life. They felt like they were back at square one, with a sick child in their hands but the only difference now was you weren’t a child anymore. You were an adult who was capable of making your own decisions. 

It was your decision to have the surgery, your decision to keep it away from Shawn, and your decision to do things differently this time. You weren’t going to keep it in the dark, your cancer. You hadn’t done it yet, but you were going to tell everyone. Hours before the surgery because you had a feeling, a terrible feeling, and your family needed all the support from their friends. What scared you the most was going to be telling Karen, Manny, and Aaliyah. They were the closest friends that your family had, and Shawn was going to be the only one to not know, right away at least. They might tell him, you knew that, but if that happens by the time he knows and makes it back to Canada, you will already be in surgery. 

It will be done and you won’t have to deal with Shawn kissing you and making promises he knew were not his to make. You loved him, really loved him which is why you couldn’t have him there if you ended up dying on that OR table. 

The drowning. The dream of you drowning, had to have meant nothing, that’s what you kept telling yourself but if you really thought that it didn’t mean anything why were you stood in front of a mirror crying. Before you could spend more time thinking about it, a knock sounded from outside of the door and your body froze as it traveled to your ears. It was soft, and if you had been sobbing you probably wouldn’t have heard it. 

Quickly, you wiped at your eyes, riding them of any tears but they were still red and there was no way Shawn wouldn’t notice that you had been crying. With a deep breath and a single glance back at your reflection, you moved towards the door. Hand wrapping around the cool knob, you opened it to be met with a drowsy Shawn in nothing but his boxers. Lines were on his face, and his eyes were squinting against the lights from the bathroom. His hair was messy and sticking up in places. He looked so tired and it made you feel bad that you had accidentally woken him up since he had a flight in the morning. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, body leaning against the doorway, as he rubbed at his eyes. 

You nodded, head down, hoping he couldn’t see yours, “Yeah, fine.” 

As you tried to walk by him, his hand wrapped around your stomach stopping you from entering the bedroom. You sighed, eyes lifting to lock with his. Almost instantly both his hands moved up to cup your face, his tired state now being overridden by worry. “Are you sure? Because you don’t look so good. I mean you look beautiful, like always, but you’re just looking a little ill.” 

His amber orbs were scanning your face, thumb stroking your cheek and you wanted nothing more than to tell him. But you knew you couldn’t stay up talking about a dream you had when he had a flight in the morning. He needed his sleep and the last thing he needed was to hear about your personal worries. Your eyes moved away from his and you shook off his touch. Turning the lights off in the bathroom, you pass by him and back into his bedroom.

“Yeah, just had a nightmare,” you replied, getting into the bed and pulling the covers up. 

Shawn still stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and gaze on you, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head, “I just need to go back to sleep and so do you. You have a flight in the morning.” 

“Don’t remind me,” he said, crossing the length of the floor from the bathroom to the bed. 

He pulled the covers back and slipped in beside you. Laying on his side, his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer towards his bare chest. Warm legs wrapping around your cold ones, you smiled as his body pressed against yours. 

“It’ll be fine,” you assured him, mind already being brought away from the dream. 

“I know it will be,” Shawn mumbled, hand brushing your hair away from your neck so his face could nestle against it. His lips kissed over the new bruises, he made earlier, gently. “Just going to miss this; Canada, my family, you.” 

You smiled, “I’m going to miss you too, Shawn.” 

Another kiss was pressed in the dip of where your shoulder met your neck just as your eyes fluttered to a close and you began to drift back to sleep, your nightmare and all worries set aside. 

+

The next morning, you woke up with the sun peeking through the blinds and into your eyes. You couldn’t move at first, the night before traveling through your mind. From the moment you walked through Shawn’s front door to when you woke up and ended up in his bathroom, tears rushing down your face. 

Finally, you thought about how you fell back asleep, safely in your best friend’s arms as he placed kisses to your soft skin. Your stomach dropped at the thought of not having him there in the middle of the night to calm you down if you were to have a small panic attack. He didn’t even fully know what it had been about, but didn’t push you to tell him and still hugged you until you fell asleep. Slowly, you sat up in the bed, Shawn’s shirt falling down to the middle of your thighs, and instantly as you stood that’s when you felt it. The soreness that resonated from your whole body, primarily between your legs. You stumbled as you took a step. 

“Shit, Shawn,” you grumbled, hand gripping the end of the bed. 

After a few seconds, you took another step and then another. Walking into the bathroom, you cringed as you met your reflection, this time no longer red or crying. Running your fingers through your tangled hair, you pushed it back behind your ears before grabbing the spare toothbrush you had been using for the last couple days. Piling the toothpaste on top, you brushed your teeth, then made your way back into Shawn’s room trying to find the sleeping shorts you also had left somewhere the night before. However, your underwear and his shirt would have to do. 

Ignoring the pressure that was being pushed against your legs, you continued making your way out towards the kitchen where you could hear the song Slim Shady by Eminem playing through Shawn’s speakers. A smile pulled at your lips as you entered the living room to see the man himself humming and swaying by the oven to the song. A spatula was in his hand as he rapped to the verse, head bopping from side to side. He was already dressed in a pink hoodie, and a pair of joggers, hair slightly damp from probably taking a shower. 

As the chorus of the song hit, he spun around on his heels, eyes widening as they landed on you. “Good morning!” he exclaimed, hands raised high in the air. 

“What are you doing?” a giggle slipped as you asked the question. 

“Making breakfast,” he grinned, gesturing towards the stack of pancakes that sat on the island with the spatula, “You hungry?” 

You groaned, “Starving.” 

Let’s see surgery was around six o’clock in the evening tomorrow and you couldn’t eat for twenty-four hours before the surgery so you were still golden. This was probably going to be the last thing you ate, so you knew you should pile up on the food which was a good thing that Shawn had a plate full of fluffy tan pancakes waiting. Skipping up the few steps from the living room to the kitchen, you made your way over to Shawn who held out a cream mug to you. You peeked in to see that he had made you tea and your smile widened. Hand clasping around the cup, he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips. A peck was all it was and as he did it nothing had ever felt more natural. Mornings with Shawn, breakfast, and short kisses that made you feel like you had been together for years. 

As he pulled away, he hummed in satisfaction, “Minty. I see you brushed your teeth.” 

“Well I wasn’t going to walk out to have you kiss my morning breath,” you replied, walking around the counter to take a seat on a stool, mug of tea in your palms. 

“I think I would have survived,” Shawn chuckled as he turned back to the oven to flip the two pancakes that were being cooked, spitting verses as he did so. “How are you feeling?” 

Your head fell at the question, cheeks heating up, as you instantly thought of how it was a struggle to walk when you got out of the bed. Biting onto your bottom lip, your hand found a place under your chin. “A little sore, actually.” 

At your words, his head snapped in your direction, a grin forming on his face. “I actually was asking because of the whole you having a nightmare last night.” 

Oh, god. You covered your face in embarrassment, though you knew you had no reason to be in front of Shawn after all these weeks spent together especially the week after your birthday. “Oh, shit. Right.” 

A laugh burst from his chest, his eyes gleaming as they looked at you and your flustered state, “Yeah but you know I don’t mind hearing that either.”

You chuckled nervously, hand tugging at the collar of the shirt anxiously as you knew your face was stained red. The action, though you hadn’t noticed caught Shawn’s eyes and he couldn’t help but admire you in his shirt. It hung loosely off your body, long enough to cover your butt, but still only coming down to about your mid thigh. “By the way, love the shirt.” 

Eyes snapping back towards him, he sends you a wink and with how flirty he was being, you could already feel that awkwardness that surrounded you starting to fade. In its place, that confidence rose and you knew that you could match his game. “Yeah? You like it?” 

“Looks so much better on you. If only you could walk around in my clothes all day.” 

“Easy,” you joked, attention falling back on the food at the sound of your stomach. 

Spinning the stool back and forth, you took an empty plate that was laid out on the counter and began to pile pancakes on the top. Four sounded like the number to start with. You took the syrup and started to pour it over the pancakes as your gaze raked across Shawn’s body and the clothes he was wearing. “You’re dressed already.” 

“My flight’s at nine, remember?” he said, eyes glancing over towards you. 

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Well what time is it?” 

“Seven thirty.” 

Your eyes widened, “Oh shit, already. You’re supposed to be leaving soon and I’m guessing you’re probably waiting for me to leave.” 

Setting the syrup back down, you went to stand but Shawn turned hand taking yours on the counter, “Hey, hey, hey. Slow down. It’s fine. I’ve already called a car and they’re getting here soon.”

“I should probably get going then.” 

His hand squeezed yours, “No, you don’t have to. Take as much time as you want.” 

You cocked an eyebrow, “But don’t you have to lock up because let’s just say, I would be the one to accidentally get locked outside of your apartment in only my underwear and your shirt. It’s not like I’d be able to get back in.”

He didn’t say anything but just sent you a grin. His eyes glancing away from you towards the end of the counter before moving back to you. 

“What?” you asked hesitantly, thinking he was up to something. 

Following his gaze, your eyes caught sight of a key. Your breath hitched in your throat because that wasn’t Shawn’s key to his apartment. His was on a key ring with his car keys. That was just a single key. Singular and without a key ring. 

Your throat became dry, “Is that a key to your apartment?” 

Biting onto his bottom lip, Shawn nodded innocently turning back to the pancakes to dish them onto the plate with the rest of the stack. “Why?” you asked. 

“Well, I was thinking, that I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone and for the last almost week this is where you have been staying. Let’s say that you found out you forgot something here and the thing is I’m in LA so there isn’t a way for you to get it back unless you call the landlord or I just happen to magically show up. Or what if you’re just missing me and want to come throw on one of my hoodies and chill on the couch. I’m not saying you would have to take the key because it’s a big step but we’ve been friends for a long time so it’s really not that big if you think about it. So you can take it or don’t take it. Doesn’t really matter.” he was rambling at this point, cheeks becoming rosy, as you smiled at him from where you sat. 

“Shawn,” you responded cutting off his rambling, “Yes.” 

“Yes?” the word came out high and rushed, eyes wide as they looked towards you. 

“Yes,” you confirmed nodding, “I’ll take the key.”

A second passed before it seemed to register in Shawn’s mind what you said. Once it had, he had dropped the spatula to the counter and balled his hand into a fist. He thrust it high in the air as a loud “Yes!” came from his lips. 

Shaking your head, a blush formed on your cheeks, and your lips curled into a soft smile as your fork dug into the pancake stack ready to devour it whole.

 +

It was seven forty-five and Shawn’s Uber was downstairs waiting for him. You had him for less than ten minutes after you had finished eating and as soon as you had set your plate in the sink, he had wrapped you up in his arms and hadn’t let you go. Now it was time for him to go and you knew that he would have to get downstairs within the next minute or you both would start to hearing honking from his Uber. His duffel bag and guitar case were lying at your feet, and he was already zipped up in his coat. His lips were planted against yours, humming against them as his hands were wandering across your back down to your hips. 

It only took a few more seconds before Shawn’s hand had wandered lower and gave your butt a tight squeeze through the navy shirt. You gasped pulling away from his hot lips. “Shawn,” you scolded.

“What?” he asked, sounding so innocent. 

You raised an eyebrow challenging him as his hand squeezed again causing a small yelp to escape from your mouth. He smirked, hand flat, he began to rub along your round bottom, “Here’s the deal, last night I fucked you and I fucked you… hard. I think it’s only fair that I get ass privileges.” 

“Really,” you mumbled, sass dripping off the word, as you rolled your eyes. 

“Hey, don’t give me that attitude,” he said, voice sounding firm, though there was a smile spreading across his face, “You know I’m an ass man.”

You nodded, hand coming up to comb through the side of his curls, causing a sigh to fall from his lips, “Yeah, I think that it’s very clear with all the grabbing you’ve been doing in the last two days.” 

“Sorry, it’s not my fault that you are so damn beautiful,” he replied, lips coming down to meet yours again. He kissed you hard like you were a drink he was trying to savor until the last drop. 

Though you didn’t want to, and it almost felt painful too, you pulled away. Your forehead connected with his, eyes staring into his amber ones that were sparkling. He huffed as your arms dropped from around his neck and you gave him a look that told him that “he should go before you grab onto him again and never let him go.” You smiled up at him, hand brushing his cheek causing the sweetest smile you had ever seen to form on his pink lips. 

“I should go,” he whispered, breath hitting your lips. 

“I know,” you replied just as quiet, as his hands dropped away from your body. 

You took a step back, fingers pushing a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your hand covered your lips, that were still tingling from touching his, and watched as he sent you one more glance over his shoulder, hand twisting the doorknob. Just as he opened the door, and began to walk out, your voice filled your own ears before you had even realized you had called out to him. 

“Shawn, wait!” 

You weren’t sure what you wanted to say. Were you supposed to tell him that you loved him because he was leaving? Because you were having surgery with the possibility of not being wheeled back out of that room alive. Were those three little words going to comfort him of the pain he might feel later, because hey, at least he knew that you loved him back. He had told you, at your party, that he loved you and you could feel it with every touch of his lips or feel of his hands. Could see the passion that filled his eyes whenever you caught him staring at you. At the end of the day, it was quite simple. 

You felt the same way about him as he did for you, yet you had never voiced it out loud because of the coward you were. Did he even know that you loved him? He had to right? You weren’t about to let him walk out of that door, with a chance of never seeing you again, without telling him how irrevocably and completely in love with him you were. No person, in their right mind would not tell the person how much they loved them if there was a risk they would never see them again. You would be fucking crazy not too. 

“Don’t forget about me when you’re out partying with all those models okay?” your chest felt like it had just been shoved down into your stomach. 

That’s not what you wanted to say and definitely wasn’t what he wanted to hear but he still smiled like it was. One that sent your heart beating and butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “Forget you? Never.” 

The corners of his lips pulled up, his smile widening, showing those pearly white perfect teeth. And with one last longing glance, he had walked out, door falling closed behind him. All you could do was stare at the it, hand bunched into the bottom of his shirt, with one thought moving through your mind as you stared at your best friend and the man you loved, leave to return back to the life where he belonged. 

I love you too. 

Then you heard your phone vibrate against the kitchen counter near the coffee machine. Sighing sadly, you grabbed the device and instantly felt your heart skip in your chest as you looked down at your lock screen and the message that was displayed. “I picked up the pasta. It’s in the fridge! Call you when I land :)”

Another thought formed in your head. 

Shawn Mendes, I’m in love with you and I should have told you when I had the chance.

next part

[studiopeachz]

Task Brainstorm & Research

What am I passionate about?

Food

Cultures

Traveling

Music

tattoos/illustrations/designs

art/painting/drawing

Mental health

Self discovering/acceptance/explorations/expressions

What do you wish more people understood?

I wish people understood more about the different forms of self expression through different ways such as art, design, fashion, literature, etc. 

I wish people understood more about human rights, or general personal choices without judgement

What do you feel strongly about?

I feel strongly about self love and acceptance because the factors of accepting ourselves can be hard but can make us flourish, and gives us opportunities to express how we feel 

What makes you feel good?

Art in different forms makes me feel good has it drives my curiosity to learn and dig deeper for meaningful things

Beauty and self acceptance, embracing our imperfections

Wise words/sayings that inspire and impact me and others in a positive way

What makes me unhappy?

As an empathetic person, I feel unhappy for the one who also feels unhappy or any certain unstable emotions.

Making mistakes also make me upset as it is hard to admit our own wrong doings

Stereotypes, because it gives us an invalid label to individuals which do not define us as a whole

I don’t like when people judge you right away without knowing you

If you could fix something, what would it be?

I would want to fix the past mistakes i have done, wishing i could of done better

I would of want to fix the moments that I wish i could of done or fulfilled which leads to present regrets

What would you like to see in the future?

I would like to see everyone in the world to be kinder, and more understanding towards each other as it gives opportunities to get to know individuals truly, without having to judge them right away.

I would also like to see people normalizing natural and imperfect things and different creations of forms of self expression without any judgement, but curiosity instead. 

What would you like to shine a light on?

I would like to raise awareness about the beauty of differences and self expression, even in peculiar artistic ways

What do you see that others don’t see?

As an optimistic person, I like to see the good in everything, therefore I have this willingness to listen and to understand situations, stories, and journeys of others.

I find the most imperfect things to be beautiful. 

Things about Gen Z

https://www.livingfacts.org/en/articles/2020/meet-gen-z 

https://danschawbel.com/blog/39-of-the-most-interesting-facts-about-generation-z/ 

Demographics

Gen Zers are also the most diverse generation. Research by the Center determined that nearly half (48%) of 6- to 21-year-old Gen Zers are racial or ethnic minorities, compared with 39% of Millennials in that age bracket in 2002 and more than double the percentage of early Baby Boomers in 1968.

Attitudes

In many instances, the youngest generation’s views follow Millennials’ social attitudes, and are in stark contrast to the oldest group, the Silent Generation, with Baby Boomers and Gen Xers falling in the middle.

For example, 70% of Gen Zers say government should do more to solve societal problems, rather than leaving it to businesses and individuals. By comparison, 64% of Millennials and only 39% of Silents say government should do more. Similarly, roughly 6 in 10 Gen Zers and Millennials say increasing racial and ethnic diversity is good for society, compared with about 4 in 10 Silents.

Gen Z’s as consumers 

55% of Gen Z would rather buy clothes online and 53% would rather buy books and electronics online. [JWT]

Their favorite items to spend money on are food and drink (36%), going out with friends (32%) and clothes (18%). [Visa]

66% want to own both houses and cars in their lifetimes. [Deep Focus]

Gen Z’s most used tech devices are the smartphone (15.4 hours/week), TV (13.2 hours/week) and a laptop (10.6 hours/week). [Vision Critical]

50% would look on their phone to look for a better price while shopping at a retail store. [Gen HQ]

63% are concerned when it comes to protecting their identity when paying with a debit or credit card online or in a retail store. [Gen HQ]

Gen Z values

76% are concerned about man’s impact on the planet. [JWT]

79% of display symptoms of emotional distress when kept away from their personal electronic devices. [University of Maryland]

90% would be upset if they had to give up their Internet connection while only 51% would give up eating out and 56% would give up downloading music. [JWT]

84% multitask with an Internet-connected device while watching TV. [Forrester Research]

They have more than 10 apps on their smartphone with 10% having more than 40. [Visa]

60% of Gen Zs say “a lot of money” is a sign of success. [Deep Focus]

What are some general Gen Z issues/behaviours/values: 

Social anxiety (mental health)

Racial equality

Gender identity

Self esteem

Political and social issues

Technology/ social media content

Personal beliefs and values in comparison to older generations 

Speaking up/inner voice

Stress response

Optimistic attitude “it is what it is”

Three Campaign Ideas relatable to Gen Z demographic In Aotearoa:

(self expression)

gender identity / fashion & style / art & design / illustration / ink / skin art - tattoos

(self acceptance & confidence)

Body Image & Positivity / cultural roots / growth / well-being / 

(cultural diversity)

Culture / tradition / ethnicity / foundation / 

Research Gen z with self expression, self acceptance, and cultural diversity

WHAT DOES SELF-EXPRESSION REALLY MEAN TO GEN Z?https://www.havaspeople.com/project/what-does-self-expression-really-mean-to-gen-z/ 

We always knew that Gen Z would be distinctive. They are the first true digital natives, and grew up during times of uncertainty (the wake of the last financial crisis and Brexit in the UK). But over the last year the identity of this generation has been further shaped in a profound way as some of their most formative years are taking place against the backdrop of a global pandemic, with the significant interruptions that has wrought to school, university, and early working lives, as well as social connections. Gen Z were on the precipice of progress when COVID hit “pause” on life. And yet many Gen Zers are emerging as resilient, energized, and eager to express themselves and have their voices heard.

Rinsta (real) and Finsta (fake) social media accounts, often to keep certain aspects of their life hidden from family, potential employers, and others outside of their close social circles). Yet – on the whole – they trust the technology brands and platforms themselves.

69% of Gen Z believe that brands should make their stance on social and political issues known publicly. I believe this is what Gen Z mean by brand authenticity. 

showing us that authenticity does not just mean having a clear point of view, but also using your clout as a brand to share and amplify the causes that matter to you. 

showing your own alignment with the purpose and intent of a brand. Gen Z see the brands who they follow, ‘like’, and buy as a personal reflection of them as individuals, which is why they are prepared to pay more for brands that they believe support sustainability. If that’s how profoundly Gen Zers believe the impact of their consumer choices can affect the way they express themselves, it stands to reason that this will cut even deeper with regard to career choices, which is one of the reasons

This seems an important aspect of self-expression. Gen Z share a willingness to discuss issues in an open reflective way, and to seek out different opinions, which is one reason social channels are increasingly viewed as credible sources of news. To give another example, Gen Z are more comfortable talking about mental health issues than previous generations. While this can be attributed in part to the overall rise in awareness and acceptance of mental health issues over the last fifteen years, it is a noticeable shift from previous generations.

https://extremereach.com/blog/for-gen-z-consumption-is-about-self-expression/ “Consumption for this generation is an expression of individual identity.”

“Some people are angry and resentful because they feel like their voice isn’t heard, so clothing is a space where they can be self-governed.”

They’re experiencing brands in every corner of their online life and so these same “brands need to beware this generation’s discernment because they have a bloodhound-like nose for inauthenticity.”

We’ve been more empowered than ever, so why are Gen-Z the least confident generation yet? https://www.glamourmagazine.co.uk/article/gen-z-least-confident-generation 

Indeed, statistics show that, instead of a defining feeling of hope among Gen Z, there is a groaning sense of pessimism - of hopelessness. Long running research from University College London, revealed earlier this year that depression levels are two-thirds higher than millennials. The study found 14.8 per cent of 14-year-olds in 2015 said they were depressed, compared to 9 per cent in 2005. While 14.4 per cent of young people said they had self-harmed, compared to 11.8 per cent a decade ago.

“I feel like Gen Z and millennials occupy a really interesting place in politics,” says Nogia, 20 “- we’ve only known austerity, we’ve only know casual work, we’ve only know life long sentences of debt for getting an education and we’re living in an age of populism and hatred in politics.”

So, is this having a detrimental effect on a generation’s mental health and personal confidence? Pretty much.

Youth Engagement Officer at YoungMinds, “Young people today have to navigate a huge range of pressures, from school or university stress, to worries over their career and housing prospects, to the rise of social media, which can make problems like bullying or body image issues more intense than they were in the past.”

Social media is - predictably - a major cause of generational anxiety. Not only is it connecting us to the world’s most depressing news stories, it is also connecting us to a plethora of airbrushed, Facetuned accounts making us feel terrible about ourselves. No wonder confidence is low.

Gen Z demands more diversity and inclusion from brands https://www.campaignlive.com/article/gen-z-demands-diversity-inclusion-brands/1705491 

Gen Zers made clear throughout the study that they want brands to step up their efforts around representation. For example, 76% of Gen Zers said they feel diversity and inclusion is an important topic for brands to address, compared to 72% of millennials, 63% of Gen Xers and 46% of Baby Boomers who felt the same.

“Consumers don't want to see brands making an effort to be inclusive just for means of publicity,” said Jenna Stearns, researcher at quantilope and lead on the report. “They want to see something that's authentic and consistent.”

But brands that resonate most with Gen Z consumers are consistent in their support of social justice. Target, for example, has been vocal around LGBTQIA awareness and Pride month for years, said Steph Rand, senior research consultant at quantilope. 

“These brands are rising to the top because they are sustaining and consistently making [these issues] a priority, either in their communications or around the content they produce,” Rand said.

Responses regarding representation also varied by race, gender and sexual orientation. Individuals responded they feel their gender is more represented in mainstream media (70% male; 66% female) and brand advertising (71% male; 68% female) than their sexual orientation or ethnicity.

In 2021, consumers hope to see more individuals with disabilities represented in advertising and media, as well as more authentic PR backed up by action.

Integrated Awareness Campaign Examples:

Self Expression Campaign example: https://www.lsnglobal.com/youth/article/24865/a-kombucha-campaign-that-celebrates-self-expression 

Los Angeles – Health-Ade Kombucha’s latest campaign targets a new generation of health-conscious drinkers.

The campaign, You Brew You, introduces the brand’s new flavour and packaging concepts, as well celebrating the popularisation of kombucha. Diverging from traditional drinks advertising, it features a series of young models in bright clothing with colourful, neon-lit backdrops.

While kombucha brands tend to communicate in a way that focuses on health, wellness and fitness activities such as yoga, Health-Ade Kombucha is on a mission to change the image of the beverage and target a new generation of digitally-native consumers.

As the younger generation look to the future and consider how drinking impacts their health, they are turning towards soft drinks with additional health benefits. For more, explore the insight section of our macrotrend Anxiety Rebellion.

Self love/acceptance Campaign Example: https://fredandfar.com/blogs/ff-blog/banksy-made-me-do-it-transforming-everyday-ads-into-self-love-campaigns 

This stunt can have multiple meanings, as Banksy often uses his art to comment on such structures as capitalism, power imbalances, and corruption. 

Wrapped up in the Banksy frenzy ourselves, we started questioning art and its subjective worth. What makes art valuable? What qualifies as art? In what way can art be used or manipulated to impact our everyday lives? We live in a world saturated by advertisements, media and marketing targeting and manipulating us to be passive consumers. Thinking about what we are subjected to daily by multimillion dollar companies is eye opening, as is Banksy’s take on copyright laws and advertising.

Banksy urges, “any advert in a public space that gives you no choice whether you see it or not is yours. It's yours to take, re-arrange and re-use. You can do whatever you like with it. Asking for permission is like asking to keep a rock someone just threw at your head.”

So let’s take back the power. We got the ball rolling by taking some campaigns and slogans you might recognize, and turning them into campaigns for self love and acceptance.

Join us by creating your own better slogan and use the hashtag #banksymademedoit. What we need is more self love in the world. Let’s saturate the world with our mission.

Cultural Diversity Campaign Example: https://www.refuelagency.com/blog/examples-of-brands-who-got-multicultural-marketing-right/ 

Rihanna’s brand, Fenty, is all but synonymous with authentic inclusive marketing, created on the foundation that everyone woman is beautiful and should feel included. In 2017, Fenty Beauty launched 40 shades of foundation, and that has since grown to 50. Chaédria LaBouvier wrote in Allure that Fenty Beauty’s sheer number of foundation colors is “a statement that women of color deserve complex options”. 

Rihanna shared that, “It’s important to me that every woman feel included in this brand.” Once this campaign launched, it had a ripple effect called “The Fenty Effect”, a movement calling for brands to challenge the status quo in advertising.

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Skies on Fire

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2905 Alternate: AO3 Summary: "'Okay, Mister ‘I don’t like the 4th of July.’ What’s your opinion on fireworks?' Chim asks.

Eddie shrugs and scrunches up his nose in that way Buck finds adorable. 'They’re loud.'"

It's the 4th of July and Eddie hates fireworks. Warnings: 

PTSD

Mild Hurt/Comfort

Eddie Diaz has PTSD

Author's Note: I can’t believe no one has written a 4th of July Buddie fic (that I could find using the search function at least. If there is one, please send me a link because I would love to read it.) So, obviously I had to write one myself. Enjoy!

Buck loves the 4th of July. He loves the excitement that it instills in everyone, he loves the celebration of it, the food that is served during the cookouts, and most importantly, Buck loves the fireworks that are set off at night. Overall, the day is usually filled with good spirits and lots and lots of food.

 The first year Buck was in L.A. for the 4th of July, Bobby had hosted it at the firehouse, cooking for the entire team. The second year, Athena had hosted it at her house, inviting Buck, Hen, Chimney, Maddie, and Eddie over for the cookout in which, again, Bobby was cooking. Eddie, however, had declined the invite, claiming he was going to spend it with his own family but when Buck asked Christopher about it later, Christopher had informed him that Eddie had not gone with him to his Abuela’s and that Pepa had brought Christopher there. When he then questioned Eddie about it, the man had completely avoided answering. Buck filed it away as an Eddie Diaz mystery he’ll probably never get an answer to and moved on. This year, they all are scheduled to work.

Buck struts into the station, clothes bag slung over his shoulder. It’s going to be a long 24-hour shift but Buck isn’t going to let that ruin his mood. Bobby had promised to cook for everyone again and he’s honestly looking forward to it. Plus, if they’re lucky, they’ll be out on a call, outside, when the fireworks start. Of course, Buck doesn’t want a life-threatening call to happen just so he can watch the fireworks, but if there’s a scared cat stuck up in a tree then he’ll take it.

He walks into the locker room where Hen, Chimney, and Eddie are already halfway through changing. Buck tries to not watch Eddie as the other man gets dressed, approaching his own locker to get into his uniform. “Who’s ready for the 4th of July rush?” Buck asks enthusiastically, giving a quick glance towards Eddie who is currently shirtless.

Eddie gives him a wary, curious look. “What do you mean?”

“People are dumb on the 4th of July,” Hen answers for Buck as Buck forces himself to look away from Eddie and opens his locker to start changing. “There’s always more calls than on a usual day because people like to set off fireworks that they got illegally or play with firecrackers that end up blowing up in their hand or in their face or in their pants.”

Eddie’s head tilts at that last statement, blinking in confusion. “Their pants?”

Hen shakes her head. “You don’t want to know.”

Buck chuckles, shucking off his pants and pulling on his uniform bottoms. “I love the 4th of July.”

“More like you love Cap’s cooking,” Chimney states from behind him, shutting his locker a little too loudly.

“I do,” Buck agrees, pulling his shirt off and turning to Chimney. “But I also love everything else to do with the 4th of July.”

“Here we go,” Hen mumbles.

Buck turns to her, smile in place. “Come on Hen, you have to agree that fireworks are awesome.”

Hen gives him a small smile. “Okay, the 4th of July isn’t that bad but I just hate how stupid people get during it.”

“Well, I’m with Buck,” Chimney says. “I love the 4th of July. It’s one of the few days you actually have a valid excuse to get absolutely drunk off your ass.”

Buck turns to Eddie. “Eddie?”

Eddie looks up from where he was studying his button up to his uniform. “Hmm?”

Buck smiles at him. “Do you like the 4th of July?”

“I hate it.”

All of them look at Eddie with surprise. Buck’s eyes go wide in shock. “What! No, Eddie, no one can hate the 4th of July!”

“I’m pretty sure other countries hate it, Buck,” Hen comments.

“Okay, if you’re an American, you can’t hate it,” he amends. “You’re, like, obligated to like it.”

Eddie watches Buck as he slides on his button up. “Sorry, Buck, but I just don’t like the 4th of July.”

“But why?” he asks but Eddie just shrugs. “Okay, what about fireworks? Everyone loves fireworks. Hen?”

Hen finishes tying her boots and stands. “They’re pretty, I guess.”

“Come on, Hen!” Buck pouts at her. “I love fireworks! They’re amazing, you know! With all the colors and how big they can get.”

“They do have a certain appeal to them,” Chim mentions with a small laugh before turning towards Eddie who is staring absently into his locker. “Okay, Mister ‘I don’t like the 4th of July,’ what’s your opinion on fireworks?” Chim asks.

Eddie shrugs and scrunches up his nose in that way Buck finds adorable. “They’re loud.” He quickly looks at all of them before turning back to his locker to dig around in it.

Buck’s heart drops as realization starts setting in while Hen huffs a laugh, heading towards the door. “Yeah, and they scare animals all over.” She leaves the room, Chimney following her with an amused smile, both apparently oblivious to what Eddie is implying.

Buck watches them go, frown now set in place on his face. Turning back to Eddie, he watches silently as the man continues to dig through his locker, looking slightly panicked. Buck thins his lips, deep in thought, before reaching into his own locker and picking up a small packet of earplugs. He walks over to Eddie and holds them out. “Here.”

Eddie looks down at them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His eyes lift to Buck. “How’d you know?”

Buck shrugs. “Good guess.” Eddie gives him a thankful smile and takes the earplugs, fiddling with the package.

Eddie gestures towards his locker, not meeting Buck’s eyes. “I thought I had brought some but I guess I forgot. Why do you have some?”

Buck smiles at him reassuringly. “I wear them when I try to get some sleep here. I can still hear the bell if it goes off but not everything else.” Eddie nods at his explanation and Buck wishes he could make this easier on Eddie. He’s obviously feeling a little embarrassed. “What did you do last year?” Buck tries, hoping he won’t be shot down this time.

Eddie sighs heavily and shuts his locker, shoving the earplugs into his pocket for later. “I closed all the windows in the house, turned on the TV full volume, and blasted music in my ears.”

“Did it work?” Eddie just shrugs. “Are you going to be okay? I’m sure Bobby wouldn’t care if you went home.”

Eddie shakes his head, walking past Buck. “I can’t let this dictate my life, Buck. You guys need me today so I’m going to be here.”

“But Eddie-”

“No, Buck,” Eddie stops him. “I’ll be fine.” He walks away then, clearly ending the conversation there.

*~~~*

As Hen had predicted, it’s a busy day. Since eight in the morning to eight at night, there have been fifteen calls. From fires to car accidents to people having firecrackers blow up in their faces, everything that is going to happen seems to be happening. They are just getting back from their last call of a child stuck up in a tree that the nine-year-old decided to climb up, when they get another call of a possible drowning in a pool.

Buck has noticed how on edge Eddie has been all day; quiet, more so than usual, and hyperaware of his surroundings. He can’t seem to relax and as Buck sits next to him on the firetruck, he can feel just how stiff Eddie is holding himself. He wishes he knew how else to calm his best friend down but knows that anything he says won’t help in the slightest.

Buck nudges Eddie’s shoulders, getting his attention. “Hey, you might want to put the earplugs in now. The fireworks are going to be starting soon.”

Eddie nods and reaches into his pocket. He frowns, removes his hand, and reaches into his pocket on the other side. This hand also comes out empty. “They must have fallen out at some point.”

Buck is frowning now as well, full of concern. “You going to be okay?”

Eddie nods curtly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Buck can feel Bobby’s eyes on them from the front, the older man glancing over his shoulder. Neither he nor Eddie acknowledges Bobby’s look. Buck figures Bobby has probably figured out the problem already anyway.

It doesn’t take them much longer to arrive on the scene. Hen and Chimney pull the ambulance around, parking it in a way that will make transporting the injured party into the vehicle easier. They all rush over to the scene, following the wife of the man who almost drowned.

They get to work right away, Chimney doing chest compressions as Hen and Eddie work on hooking him up to fluids and air. The husband comes back quite quickly to everyone’s relief and coughs up water. Moving him onto a backboard and then to a gurney, they all make their way over to the ambulance, loading the man in and letting the wife follow. She says her thanks and Chimney shuts the back doors, Hen driving away with the sirens blaring. Overall, it’s a smooth mission and nothing goes wrong.

That is, until the first firework booms in the air, bright and loud.

Eddie flinches so violently, that he knocks into Buck, and, Buck not having expected that, they both go tumbling down to the ground. Buck lands on his bottom, catching himself with his hands and causing pain to shoot up into his arms from his wrists. Bobby is crouching in front of them, asking them if he’s okay and another firework soars in the night sky and explodes in a beautiful hue of blue.

Buck ignores Bobby’s questioning and turns to Eddie who is also sitting on the ground except that his legs are drawn up close to him and his head is dipped between his knees with his hands covering his ears. He’s stiffened up even more than he has been all day and Buck can see tremors running through his body. Buck scrambles up, reaches out to touch Eddie, but then stops short. He quickly pulls his hand back.

“Eddie?” he begins gently. “Eddie, it’s Buck. Can you hear me?”

Eddie doesn’t give Buck an answer, doesn’t even look up at him, but Buck can hear Eddie’s heavy breathing and quiet sobs. Bobby places a hand on Buck’s shoulder, getting his attention. “I need to get back. You got this?” Buck nods. “When he’s back, bring him home. You two can end your shift early.”

“Are you sure?” Buck asks.

Bobby nods towards Eddie. “Take care of him.” He then gets up and leaves, giving Eddie one last concerned look. Buck knows that if Bobby could, he would stay too, but he can’t. Not on one of their busiest days.

Buck watches Bobby leave before turning his attention back to Eddie. “Eddie? Can I touch you?” Still, he gets no answer. “I’m going to touch your knee, okay?”

More fireworks are shooting up in the sky, getting closer to the grand finale. He knows they aren’t helping the situation at all. Another loud and bright firework makes Eddie flinch again and his entire body shudders as a whimper escapes from his mouth.

Buck slowly stretches his arm out, gently placing a hand on Eddie’s knee. Eddie doesn’t react to it, doesn’t look up at Buck but also doesn’t jerk away from the touch so Buck figures it must be fine to do so. He continues to talk to Eddie, keeping his voice low and calm. “Eds, you’re out on a call. You’re in someone’s backyard, near the pool. What you are hearing are fireworks. They are not bombs, you’re no longer in Afganistan, you’re safe.”

The finale to the fireworks starts up and Eddie curls into himself more, pulling away from Buck’s hand. Buck doesn’t try to touch him again, waits the finale out, and then tries again when everything settles.

“Eddie, it’s still Buck. Can you hear me?” A small nod. “Okay, listen to my voice. Again, you are not in Afganistan anymore. You’re in L.A. and those were fireworks, not bombs. You’re safe. I’m here. You’re not in danger.” Eddie lifts his head some but doesn’t look at Buck. His eyes are far away, not really focusing on anything. “Can I touch you again?” Another small nod. Buck crawls a little closer, places a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Can you feel the ground?” Eddie nods. “Can you feel my hand?” Again, a nod. “Okay, what do you see? What do you see around you, where you’re safe?”

It takes Eddie a few tries and Buck repeating the question again before he can answer him. “You.”

“What else?”

Eddie swallows and lifts a shaky hand to wipe the tears away. He’s still not very focused, blinking rapidly. “You.”

“Okay,” Buck says, moving on. “What can you hear. Can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“What else can you hear? What else can you hear in this backyard where you’re safe? Where you’re safe with me? You’re safe.”

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut and his face scrunches in agony. “Open your eyes,” Buck tells him and he does. “Can I hug you?” Eddie nods and Buck maneuvers himself so he’s sitting down at an angle to Eddie, wrapping his arms lightly around the smaller man. He wants to be sure Eddie can still see him but also ground him more in the present by giving him more physical touch. “Now what can you hear besides my voice?”

Eddie is still shaking but his muscles relax. Still he doesn’t answer Buck, staring off into the distance. “Eddie?” Eddie snaps back.

“The pool. I can hear the…” a long pause as Eddie blinks. “The pool.”

“Okay, good. Can you hear the water in the pool?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you still hear me?”

“Yeah.”

“What can you smell?” Buck asks, moving onto the next sense. “What do you smell around you, here and now?” He carefully rubs a hand up and down Eddie’s bicep, gauging Eddie’s reaction. He doesn’t reject the movement so Buck continues doing it.

“I can smell…” Again, Eddie quiets, staring at the ground. His body is relaxing though so Buck decides that what he is doing must be working at least a little. 

“Eddie, what do you smell?” he asks again.

Eddie blinks, doesn’t answer, and Buck asks for the third time. “I smell your cologne or… or deodorant.” He sinks into Buck, blinking slowly. “I smell… I can smell the pool. Freshly cut grass.”

“Good, now I want you to describe to me, if you could choose any place, where would you want to be at this very moment?” Buck chuckles. “It doesn’t even have to be attainable.”

Eddie licks his lips, rubs a hand slowly over his knee, and looks like he might dissociate again but then he starts talking, voice slow and slightly slurred. “At home with Christopher and you.”

“Yeah?” Buck smiles. “What would we be doing?”

Eddie does dissociate again, staying quiet for several minutes before Buck can get him back and ask the question once more. “Watching a movie.”

“What movie?”

“I don’t know.”

“Describe to me the scene you’re thinking.”

Eddie’s hand rubs over the ground and he lifts his hand to look at his palm. He stares at it for a few seconds before placing it down on the ground again. Buck repeats what he said. “Christopher would be sitting on the floor in a heap of blankets. You and I would be on the couch, sitting close.”

“Like this?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. One of us would be holding the other and…” he trails off.

Buck runs a hand through Eddie’s hair, deciding to end it there. “Can you stand?”

Eddie swallows and nods. They both stand up, Eddie swaying in his spot. Buck can tell he’s not entirely back with him, the other man looking around his surroundings as if confused as to where he is. Buck orders an Uber and when it arrives, he carefully guides Eddie inside it.

They arrive at Eddie’s place and Buck immediately transports Eddie to his bed, helping him to undress and lie down in it. “You’re home now, Eddie. Do you know where you are?”

“Home,” he answers. “I’m home.” He’s coming back now, getting more alert. Still, he looks exhausted with his eyes droopy and slow movements. “Thank you for helping me, Buck.”

Buck sits down on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through Eddie’s hair. “I’ve got your back, Eddie.” He shrugs. “And next year, we’ll be more prepared. No more losing the earplugs.”

Eddie chuckles at that, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal.”

They stare at each other for a long time before Buck finally asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eddie shakes his head. “No.” Buck nods, accepting that answer. “But I would like it if you stayed.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll stay.”

“No, I mean in the bed.”

“With you?” Buck asks.

“I feel safer with you.” Eddie is avoiding eye contact but the statement makes Buck smile nonetheless.

“I’ll stay, then.”

Eddie smiles, small and soft, eyes closing slowly. “Thank you.”

Buck leans down and presses a kiss to Eddie’s temple. “Always.”

———————————————————————————————————–

A/N: And there you have it. Though I do think fireworks are pretty I also think they are obnoxious and loud, and, since they are literally bombs going off in the air, I can’t imagine Eddie not having some kind of reaction to them.

Thank you to this website that helped me write what Buck should do for Eddie during his flashback.

Thank you for reading!

[lochsides]

Fearless (Taylor's Version) Review

Never did I think that I would have the chance to listen to one of the most formative albums of my childhood for the first time, twice. Never did I imagine myself filled with so much undiluted joy when Fearless (Taylor’s Version) was announced. One thing I have learned in the past 13 years since I heard Love Story on the radio for the first time is to never underestimate Taylor Swift. Fearless is such a special album to me because it is how I discovered Taylor, and in turn made incredible friendships. It was such a nostalgic feeling, listening to Taylor’s Version.

I was 11 when the original album was released. I didn’t think to write down my opinions about art that impacted me, and ultimately shaped me, so this is going to be a very long post. That’s also why it took me a week to gather my thoughts coherently. Below the cut is a full 26 song track-by-track review of Fearless (Taylor’s Version), but the summary is: I love it more than I did in 2008 and I am so proud of Taylor for reclaiming her art. She has always been a game changer. I hope this makes everyone more aware.

My favourite tracks are the same as they have always been — Breathe, The Way I Loved You, You’re Not Sorry, Untouchable — but with the addition of the brilliant From The Vault tracks. Don’t You is my favourite.

Fearless — Immediately on the first listen, I could pick of the improvement on the audio quality. The production is cleaner in this streaming era of music. Fearless feels new right off the bat, but it sounds just about the same. Taylor’s vocal sits more comfortably in the song, indicative of her maturity as a singer. This rings true for all of the album but because this is the first track, I think it’s more palpable here.

Fifteen — To me, Taylor’s Version of Fifteen sounds so similar to the original. It’s remarkable how well she has replicated this track. Somehow this song feels more personal to her story than it has ever before. Hearing her 31-year-old self sing “in your life you’ll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team” actually gave me chills.

Love Story — When she released her new version of Love Story, the changes in her vocal were almost indiscernible if I hadn’t already been so intimately familiar with the original song. This was the first Taylor song I had ever heard and it will always have such a special place in my heart. Hearing her version of it, rededicated to her fans, was so heartwarming. It still hits almost 13 years later.

Hey Stephen — The vocal quality on Hey Stephen (Taylor’s Version) is far better than the original. Her voice sounds fuller, richer, throughout the song, and less pitchy. It makes the song even more pleasing to listen to. Strangely though, her vocal maturity doesn’t necessarily make her sound older on these songs. With a song like Hey Stephen, I think that youthfulness is essential and she managed to replicate that in her new performance.

White Horse — I know I said that Love Story introduced me to Taylor but White Horse was the song that made a fan of me. So when I say this song sounds better than before, I really mean it. The production is more refined. Her vocal is smoother and it sounds so similar to the original in the chorus but it’s in the verses that you can easily detect the differences. Unlike Hey Stephen, she does sound older on this track but it lends itself to that, the disillusionment of fairytales.

You Belong With Me — YBWM is another song that sounds so similar to the original that if I wasn’t so familiar with the song, I wouldn’t be able to describe the differences. It’s also one we’ve all heard her song so often live that it all melds into one. The productions sounds almost the exact same same. Also her country accent that’s somehow both there and not.

Breathe — Okay so time to get real here, I nearly cried by the time Breathe started playing. This has been one of my favourite songs of hers for over a decade. It made me so emotional to know that she is reclaiming it. I connect this version of this song to her experience with how things ended with BMR. The essence of this song is loss.

Tell Me Why — A lot of people talked about how much her vocals had improved on Tell Me Why and that the song sounds so much better now, but to me it’s probably one of the best replications on Taylor’s Version. It sounds the exact same as it did 13 years ago. That’s not to say her vocal hasn’t improved. She uses it very strategically. I think this song is underrated and being re-exposed to it in this new way made people appreciate it more.

You’re Not Sorry — Taylor’s vocal maturity hit me differently on this track. Her voice sounds chilling in the way she evokes the emotion of the song. Every note she hits is more balanced. You’re Not Sorry is probably the song I feel sounds the most different. This might just be because it’s one of my favourite songs that I can so easily pick it apart. Regardless, it is beautifully sung.

The Way I Loved You — I was probably the most excited to hear her remake The Way I Loved You, and boy did she improve on the quality of her vocal on this song. She sounds more effortless singing this song on Taylor’s Version. The production is also cleaner on this version. The instruments are more distinct. It’s subtle improvements that really take it up a notch, while remaining the same song I fell in love with.

Forever & Always — The new production on this song makes it soooo much better than the original. I won’t lie, Forever & Always has never really stood out to me that much. Taylor’s Version does. The guitar solo is less overpowering. Her high notes are more seamless. I like this version far more than the original.

The Best Day — I know this is a special song to Taylor and there is almost an extra softness to her voice singing it this time. I can hear her smiling when she sings “God smiles on my little brother”. There is so much warmth throughout.

Change — Tell me it’s not iconic that she used the lyric “it was the night things changed” to announce that Fearless (Taylor’s Version) had dropped when she wrote Change about being on an independent label. Power move!

Jump Then Fall — One of the most beautiful things about rediscovering an album is getting to look at it with a new perspective and gain a new appreciation of certain songs. That’s Jump Then Fall (Taylor’s Version) for me. I would say this is the biggest grower from 2009. I can’t quite discern what it is about Taylor’s Version that makes me enjoy this song more but I do. I guess it goes back to the subtle improvements she has sprinkled across the album.

Untouchable — I think any song in which Taylor has any high notes sounds better on Taylor’s Version but Untouchable really showcases it. Her vocal is so much smoother and airier, the transitions between notes so much smoother. It lends itself beautifully to the song.

Forever and Always (Piano Version) — Taylor emotes differently on this version to the original, which I think sounds sadder. Perhaps this is due to the fact that she’s trying to emulate the old version. What it all comes down to is that the song sounds the very similar to the original but feels different. Her vocal delivery and the piano accompaniment are still beautiful.

Come In With The Rain — The instrumentation on CIWTR (Taylor’s Version) is so crystal clear. That is a testament to new production. Taylor’s vocal projection is also much stronger. It makes the song feel grander than it did before.

Superstar — I think Superstar is another of those songs that she did an incredible job of reproducing. Her vocal sits comfortably in the song. This song makes me miss concerts so much in this pandemic world we’re all living in. I have always been very fond of this song.

The Other Side Of The Door — When I tell you all I wanted from Taylor’s Version of Fearless was to hear her sing the outro of The Other Side Of The Door with her 2021 vocals, it is no exaggeration. And Taylor did not disappoint. I fucking love this song. It is so full of energy and life.

Today Was A Fairytale — I was surprised to see this on the tracklist for Fearless (Taylor’s Version). I believe she will be remastering every song in her BMR catalogue. Her voice is fuller on the verses and the chorus sounds exactly as I remember it from years ago. Her vocal strength better complements the production and those heavy drums. She isn’t straining as much.

You All Over Me — I think this was the perfect song to introduce the Vault tracks with. It fits perfectly within where her music is now while maintaining the integrity of the original demo. I really like this song. Maren’s backing vocal sounds great on it. Also the lyric “no amount of freedom gets you clean”??? Need I say more?

Mr. Perfectly Fine — It’s the teen angst for me in this track. I love how petty this song is, truly. It’s so quintessentially Fearless, in its subtext but also in the genre. It has that melding of country and pop that she was beginning to explore at this stage.

We Were Happy — I was so excited when I figured out the words “we”, “were” and “happy” from that chaotic video Taylor posted. I have loved this song for actual years. It’s the exact sound for which I fell in love with Taylor’s music (see White Horse). The lyricism in this song follows that storytelling structure that I think she shines with. I honestly feel with the way that it was produced, it could’ve just as easily fit onto evermore.

That’s When — The first thing I noted when listening to this song was the change in perspective. I wonder why she did it, but I am absolutely not complaining. Keith Urban really made this song for me. I love how he sounds on it. His vocal complements Taylor’s so well. That’s When is very catchy.

Don’t You — I can’t decide what my favourite aspect of this song is. The songwriting, the vocals, the layering, the production. This is just *chef’s kiss*. I love how I can hear Jack Antonoff in the production, especially in those drums. I would say it’s the most pop-leaning song on Fearless (Taylor’s Version), but it doesn’t feel out of place. Don’t You encompasses all of my favourite aspects of Taylor’s music.

Bye Bye Baby — The original demo “The One Thing” has been one of my most played unreleased songs over the past decade. Bye Bye Baby feels so much like a brand new song, with all the changes she made, but still coated in the nostalgia of something so familiar. The production is more intricate, the lyric changes add more depth, the vocal inflections complement this new version. I feel like this song is so indicative to me of her growth as a songwriter and performer.

[howardpotts]

One: get close to you

Love on the Brain - Masterlist in links

Pairing: MobBoss!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and violence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer?

Chapter warning: Alcohol

A/N: I know I said that this story would start on the 20th, but I’m way too excited to not start already. I’m so excited to hear what your thoughts are!

Beta’d by @golddaggers and @tranquil–heart!

Your heels clacked on the brown tiles, echoing through the bar. In a swift, you take place on the wooden barstool in front of you, black purse on the bar. You were ready, they made sure of it. Trained to do this, or at least, they gave it their best. Now it was just you – no one else to help you if things go wrong.

Fingers drumming on the bar impatiently. The smell of beer and sweat makes you shudder. A couple of old men are drinking a room temperature beer on the other side of the bar. They look at you, their opinions readable from their faces. But you don’t care. You’re not here for them.

The bell rings, door swept open. Finally. A broad man steps into the weak light just in front of the door. Brown greasy hair pushed into a bun, steel blue eyes scanning the room until they meet yours. A wicked grin on his face, one that steals hearts and breaks them the next day. His suit fits him perfectly. Gucci, you can tell, even from the dim light he’s in.

It’s now or never. This is a make or break – do or die. Literally. You’ve never been this afraid in your life, but at the same time you’ve never felt as confident in your life. A shy smile back to lure him to you, just like you did the first time. Putting a strand of hair behind your ear, body cramping to convince him that you’re intimidated. You’re not, even though you should be.

You got him like a fish in a net.

2 years ago

A black dress that flatters your figure. Your hands working on the end of the hem, fixing it, making you look even more presentable. Your neatly curved hair falls just over your shoulders, as it should after forty minutes of hard work.

You walk into the bathroom, watching if your lipstick is still in place. Leaning a little bit over the counter, squeezing your lips onto each other before releasing them with a silent pop. Your eyes roam, looking for the red lipstick you used an hour ago, probably vanished by the liquor.

A call of your name has you rolling your eyes. “Yes! I’m coming!”

Quickly you work on your lips, avoiding the perfectly done outlining, careful to not mess up your now complete look. One quick last glance in the mirror and you’re ready to go.

“What took you so long? The taxi’s already running. You’re gonna make us poor”, Wanda whines while she grabs your upper arms and drags you to the taxi. You only grin, but not wide enough to get in trouble.

Wanda can’t stop talking to you in the taxi. About how she loves your outfit. ‘Trashy but trendy’, is what she calls it. You know that she means it in a good way, but ‘trashy’ isn’t the word you should use. You don’t look like a slut or garbage, but you do look like you want some game tonight.

Driving from Queens to Manhattan takes you about fifteen minutes, before you stop at the club called ‘HULK!’. It’s a club that you’ve never been to, but Wanda’s crush was there tonight, so she begged you to come with her.   

It smells like liquor and sweat when you walk in. Red, blue and green lights covering the bodies on the dancefloor. You bite your bottom lip as you search for the bar, pulling at Wanda’s arm when you found it.

The sweet taste of a tequila shot, a burning sensation in your throat. It gives your body a warm feeling, stress from all the school assignments leaving you swiftly. It also gives you an urge to dance, to swing your sorrows away and to make dumb decisions.

The music is alright, a little bit too much ‘pop’ if anyone would ask you. A few security guards are watching the dancefloor carefully, but you’re not bothered by it, pulling Wanda away from the bar and onto the dancefloor.

You let your hips sway from left to right, hands on your body, roaming them as if you were to for the first time ever. Eyes locked on Wanda, but she’s searching the crowd for her crush.

“And?”, you ask her, not really stopping your dance moves.

“No, I can’t- Wait. Oh no. Oh my god”, she starts. You chuckle and look in the same direction as hers. Even though it’s pretty dark, you can see the blush on her cheeks. It’s adorable, really.

“Oh! She’s watching! Fuck-”

“Come on, Wan! Where’s the confident woman I know?”, you say with a light smile on your face. “If she doesn’t like you, she’s the stupid one.”

“Can you dance with me, babe? Please?” She looks at you with pleading eyes. You grab her hand, trying to calm her down and stand a little closer to her. 

“Of course. Come, let’s see what those hips can do”, you encourage. You normally don’t have to give Wanda a pep talk, so this was surprising behaviour for her. Normally, she’d be confident, telling you that ‘she got this’ and ‘she’s going to wrap them around their finger’. 

Both of you dance to the rhythm of the song, while holding each others hand. It gives her a little boost of confidence, or at least enough to loosen her hips a little. She gives you a smile, a little more sure about what she’s doing than a minute ago.

“Go talk to her”, you try after another song took over.

“But why? What do I talk about”, she asks.

“Fuck, Wan. Don’t be a pussy. What the hell is so special about her?”, you ask, a little annoyed now at how she lost all her confidence once again.

“You don’t know her. She’s so intimidating and powerful. Fuck, I like her”, she whines. You roll your eyes and push her lightly towards the girl. She hesitates at first, but gives in when you give her a second light push and a ‘you got this’. 

For you, this is the perfect timing for another drink. A normal one, this time. The place is packed, people everywhere, Wanda already out of sight. You sigh before squeezing yourself through the crowd, pushing a way to the bar. 

There’s a perfect spot for you though, right in the middle, between a couple that’s making out and two girls that are drunkily chatting. 

The bartender is busy, though, so you look around. It’s a little awkward how you’re standing next to that couple, but you try and ignore it. You watch to your left, where it’s a little bit more empty than at yours, but you don’t care. You’ve got your spot, now you’re not risking of leaving it.

You look at the people, but stop in your tracks when you notice someone watching you. Some piercing blue eyes are staring right at you. It makes your cheeks flush, your eyes finding the bartender because you can’t look at him any longer. He’s intriguing, but so incredibly handsome. 

“A white wine please”, you say. The tender nods and works on your drink. Again you eyed to your left. He didn’t move, in fact, he still looked at you. 

A little smirk and a small short nod towards you. Out of nervousness, you put a strand of hair behind your ear, but you’re bold enough to flash him a flirty smile back. 

His strong jaw, tanned skin, gorgeous blue eyes. All of it together has you swooning over him. It has you wondering why in the world he would be interested in just a normal Communications student. 

Your excitement is stronger than your insecurity, so you push those thoughts aside. The bartender brings your wine. It feels cold in your hands, a real relief in this hot humid club. 

When you search for the guy again, he’s gone. A bitter feeling is taking its place, but quickly washed away when you turn around and look directly in those beautiful pair of blue eyes again, but now from up close.

“Am I too late to pay for that wine?”, he asks. Voice is low, bringing chills all over your body. Please don’t stop talking. Ever.

“For this round, you are”, you chuckle suggestively. 

“Steve”, he introduces himself. You say your name and take a step aside so he can join you at the bar. The man smells like roses and leather. God, he smells so good.

He makes you laugh within a minute with some cliché joke. You follow up with a cliché reply, making him laugh in response. His teeth are perfectly white, his eyes sparkle as they look into yours. How can you not melt when he touches your thumb lightly with his?

“Never seen you here before”, he states as he checks you out. You do the same and spot a little tattoo on his chest, some kind of quote. 

“First time here, decided to mix it up a bit. Old clubs tend to get boring”, you say, wine glass attached to your bottom lip. You take a small sip before taking a look into the club. There are a lot of silhouettes dancing to the pop song that’s chiming through the room right now. The red lights makes it seem like some cheap strip club. 

There’s this shady vibe, though. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you can feel some kind of tension. A few women give you arrogant glances, but you don’t really pay attention to that. 

“Steve.” There’s a dark skinned guy standing right in front of you, interrupting Steve from whatever he wanted to say to you. You look at Steve, his eyes are stale, jaw clenched. Clearly annoyed by the interruption.

“I told you to not disturb me tonight.” He doesn’t even look at the guy while saying it. Instead, he still looks at you, moving closer and biting his bottom lip.

“Steve”, the guy says again. “It’s fucking important, man.” You look at him. He has trimmed black hair, huge biceps. A man you don’t want to mess with. 

Steve now finally looks at the guy and crooks his finger, leaning in so the guy can whisper whatever he wants to discuss. Whispering? Really? 

It made you roll your eyes and sip your wine again, while you see the little show in front of you. This guy must either feel really rich and important, or he really has trust issues.

The guy nods for Steve’s answer and leaves right after, not even looking at you once this entire time. It makes you hold back another eye roll. 

“Oh and Sam”, Steve calls after him. The guy turns around. “I don’t want to see your face again tonight.”

Just when you wanted to ask why he was here, you forgot to ask when he gave you that same smirk again. You’re not sure how he did it, but he made you feel hot without even saying anything.

“Another drink?” He points to your glass, but eyes are never leaving yours. You nod and ask for another wine.

“Wine? Sure you don’t want a cocktail or something?”, he asks. 

“Let me guess, you thought I was that kind of girl”, you tease. He leans with his elbows on the bar, his eyes still full of mischief while watching you.

“Nah”, he shakes his head. “But most women like to test a guy like me and ask for the most expensive drink on the list.”

“And what exactly is a guy like you?”, you bounce back. He smirks, but doesn’t answer. Instead he just hands you your wine and puts a strand of hair behind your ear.

You look into the crowd again, now spotting a familiar red haired woman. She gives you a big thumbs up, supporting the fact that you’re flirting with a very handsome guy. You raise your glass at her, giving her a small wink before turning your attention back at Steve.

“That your friend?”, he asks. You nod. All he does is letting out a little hum, watching her for two more seconds before staring into your eyes again. It still makes you nervous, but the good kind.

“What?”, you ask, more automatically than curiously. You tend to do that when you’re nervous.

“’M trying to get a grasp of you”, he answers.

“That makes two of us.” You let your eyes wonder of the rest of his body. Broad shoulders, a black blouse that’s a little tight, but you don’t mind. Another tattoo on his wrist, some kind of arrow.

Something about this guy screams trouble, though. You shouldn’t get involved in whatever he is. But the mystery intrigues you. It makes you curious to find him out. Even if it’s just for a night.

His hand brushes over your hip, plucking lightly at the fabric of your dress. As he takes a step closer to you, you feel how your heart is thumping louder in your chest. He leans in, but misses your lips and goes to your ear instead.

“Are you going to give me a good time tonight, princess?” His hot breath rakes down your neck, nose lightly brushing your ear. The way he said ‘princess’ has your legs weaken, a weird tingling sensation all over your skin.

His hand now set on your lower back, fingers still scraping, as if he still needs to convince you. As if he didn’t reel you in the moment you two locked eyes.

“I think 'good’ is an understatement”, you dare to say. His hand tightens at that, pushing you closer to him. Chest flush to him. He’s so close to you now. His scent addicting, his grip weakening. He has you all wound around his finger. But the fun part is that you got him too.

You can see it in his eyes. He’s not entirely sure of what’s causing it. He’s not used to this. A woman that doesn’t bow to him whenever he asks her to.

“Why don’t you prove it.” His face dangerously close to yours. You’re sure that the tension can be felt on the other side of the room as well.

“Happy to”, you say, ripping yourself away from him, leaving him confused. He’s now empty handed. You look at him seductively.

“Are you coming or what?”

________________________________

Taglist: (Open)

@mcueveryday​ @mschellehitt​ @cametobuyplums​ @stuck-y-together​ @thamuddagirl​ @idiotwithabowandarrow​ @buckysthot​ @what-if-i-am-weird​ @mariia-the-ninja​ @myspectacularfantasies​ @ornella0910​

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Behind The Marriage - Harry Styles Series - Epilogue

20 Years Later 

**

You held the camera up to your face as you snapped some shots of the venue before the show to work out some of the lighting. Your vibrant 3 year old son, Max, followed you around beside holding his toy camera, mocking your exact movements. You giggled as he furrowed his eyebrows checking to see if the photo is just right. 

“Is it good?” You smiled. 

“Pewect! Mumma,” he smiled. 

“Okay, let’s go backstage and get some shots of everyone,” you said. 

He quickly darted towards the backstage area as you gathered your things to head back there yourself. Even after all these years, it still didn’t feel real that this was your life. Twenty years and five children later, you and Harry were still going strong. Harry was still making music and touring, and so were your two oldest children, Finneas and Amelia. They definitely took after their father when it came to the music department. 

Your second oldest, Stevie, was your dancer and actress. She was fifteen and had already been in a few well known broadway and ballet shows. Next came, Rosie, who was ten and loved anything that had to do with art. Finally, your last born was little Max, who was your little shadow. 

When you found your family backstage, Harry was holding Max on his hip as he piled a plate of food from catering. Finn and Eila, were warming up since they were Harry’s opening act, while Stevie was on her phone and Rosie was drawing in her sketch book. This was your life, while it was super crazy and schedules were all over the place, you loved it and wouldn’t change a thing. 

“There you are,” Harry smiled walking over to you, kissing your cheek. “Max said everything’s ready to go for the show tonight.” 

“Yep, got all my settings in check, although I may have to make some adjustments here and there once there are actually people in venue,” you said. 

He nodded, “Rosie, Stevie, grab some food for dinner,” he said. “Finneas and Amelia will be out soon.” 

Stevie groaned, “I’m tired of eating from catering.” 

“Welcome to tour life,” Harry joked. “Besides you should be used to it.” 

“That’s the point,” she mumbled. 

“She’s just mad because she can’t go out with her friends tonight,” Rosie rolled her eyes. 

“Shut up,” Stevie snapped. “Nobody asked for your opinion.” 

“Well, I gave it,” Rosie shrugged getting off the couch and heading towards the catering table. 

“Girls, stop it,” You sighed. “Be nice to each other, please.” 

“I just don’t get why I couldn’t go out with my friends,” she sighed. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Daddy, I love your show, but so what if I miss one show. There’s like a hundred more on this tour.” 

“Yes, I know, love,” Harry said taking a bite of his food. “But tonight is your mother and I’s wedding anniversary, which means it’s special.” 

“Then why did you schedule a show? Shouldn’t you be taking Mum out for a nice dinner or something?” She asked. 

“Your Mum deserves more than a nice dinner, which is why I’ve got something else planned and part of that is having all of our children here,” he said. 

Stevie rolled her eyes, heading over to grab some food and sitting own. Rosie stuck her tongue out at her before shoving more food in her mouth. You shook your head with a laugh as you sat next Harry and Max. 

“How have we survived all these years on the road with these children?” You joked. 

“I ask myself that every day,” he laughed. 

**

You all took your places in the crowd, while Harry stood side stage before Finneas and Amelia’s set. They had recorded and released their first album at the age of 17 and just released their second one a few weeks ago. They had mostly gone on tour with Harry and One Direction as their opening acts, but next year, they would go off on their own. You and Harry couldn’t be prouder of them, but you also knew you wouldn’t be able to be at every show, which broke your heart a little bit. 

But at least they had each other. 

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Finn asked the crowd. “I hope everyone enjoyed that first song.” 

The crowd screamed and you maneuvered yourself around as you took photos and snapped some videos. While you were working, you also made sure to watch them as a mother. Tears filled your eyes at every show, seeing them living their dream, just like their father. Many people believe the twins only got to where they are because of him, but the truth is, they both worked their asses off and continue to as well. 

You giggled when you saw Max dancing around in Stevie’s arms as they all sang along to their sibling’s music. While Stevie would have liked to go out with her friends in New York City tonight, you also knew she was happy to be there. Even though it seemed as if every member of the family had their own things to do, you all were extremely close. 

“Okay, so, this next song will be our last one of the night,” Eila smiled sitting down at the piano. “It’s one our of favorites. If you know the words, please sing along, and if you don’t, just enjoy it anyway. We love you MSG and we can’t wait to be back next year on our very own tour.” 

You smiled widely as you put your camera down and watched them perform their last song of the night. 

**

By the time, it was Harry’s turn, all of you were together, including the twins, watching the show. You still made sure to get in your shots, and Max did as well, but for the most part, you enjoyed it with the family. All the kids sang every lyric at the top of their lungs and danced their hearts out. The Styles’ kids were their father’s biggest fans ever since they were little. 

Towards the end of the show, you noticed Harry was doing something a little different, which caught you off guard a little bit. 

“So, this next song, is actually not my song,” he laughed. “Um, it’s been ages since I’ve performed a cover on my tour, but tonight is a special night. For one, I’m here with all of you beautiful and wonderful people, but for the biggest part, it’s my wedding anniversary. Twenty years ago, my amazing wife, Y/N, shocked me by purposing on a boat in a Jamaica. The very next day we had our own little ceremony and well, the rest is history. Many people, including our families, believed we wouldn't make it past the first year. We had many tell us we rushed things and that marriage was something you don’t just dive into. Well, we did and here we are with five amazing, talented, smart, beautiful, children twenty years later. I won’t lie and say we didn’t have our hard moments, but they only made our love for each other stronger than ever. Y/N, I love you more everyday and more than I ever could have imagined. I can’t wait to experience the next twenty years of our lives together and hopefully twenty more after that. I love you, baby and this next song is for you,” he smiled looking right at you. 

Tears were already in your eyes as you stood in the crowd surrounded by your and Harry’s children. The venue went black before only a spotlight shined on Harry. As soon as he started playing the guitar, you quickly recognized the song. 

“Looks like we made it, look how we’ve come, my baby. We mighta took the long, we knew we’d get there someday,” he sang. “They said, “I bet they’ll never make it.” but just look at us holding on. We’re still together, still going strong.” 

As he started to sing the chorus, the screen in the back starting showing videos and photos of you and Harry in the early days. Some where from the wedding video you had made at the reception all those years ago. The kids all smiled as they watched their parents history as well as their own history being played in front of them. Towards the end of the song, more videos and photos involving your and Harry’s live with the kids were added and by then you were a blubbering mess. 

Max wrapped his arms around your legs, while Stevie placed her head on your shoulders. Rosie held both Finneas and Amelia’s hands as you all watched Harry finish the song. He smiled over at you, blowing you a kiss as the crowd erupted. Harry wiped at his own eyes as he composed himself to finish the remainder of the show. 

**

At the end of the show, Max was already asleep in Finn’s arms as the two older Styles’ kids gathered their siblings to head to the hotel. As soon as you saw Harry, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him. He held you tightly in his arms as you sniffled. 

“I love you so fucking much,” you smiled. 

He smiled, “I love you, too, baby,” he whispered. “I take it you liked it?” 

“I loved it,” you smiled. “But you could have given me a warning! I would have worn waterproof mascara.” 

“Well, then it wouldn’t have been a surprise,” he laughed. 

“True,” you smiled. 

“Where are the kids?” He asked. 

“Max fell asleep, so they all headed back to the hotel,” you said. 

“So, then I guess we’ve got the rest of the night to ourselves?” He smirked. 

“That we do,” you smiled. “What else to you have up your sleeves, Styles?” 

“You’ll just have to wait and see, Styles,” he smirked. 

“Happy anniversary,” you smiled. 

“Happy anniversary,” he smiled. “And to many more,” he whispered pressing his lips to yours. 

**

And that’s officially a wrap! I hate to see this series end, but it’s time. I hope you all enjoyed it and are satisfied with this ending. Let me know your thoughts!

[takaraphoenix]

Miraculous ladybug for the ask game?

Thanks for playing! There may be more here than for Good Omens, but I’m not THAT deep in this one either, so no promises. xD”

Top 5 favourite characters: Adrien, Alya, Luka, Nino, Kagami

Other characters you like: Juleka and Rose

Least favourite characters: Lila and Chloe!

Otps: Luka/Adrien, Kagami/Marinette, Alya/Nino, Juleka/Rose

Notps: mmmh I don’t really have any, I think?

Favourite friendships: Alya and Marinette, Adrien and Nino

Favourite family:mmmh it’s not like we know a whole lot of families and recently I have been thinking a lot about the fact that Marinette’s parents never question that they can’t get a hold of Marinette and can’t be there to directly protect her when Paris is under attack. Like. She’s a fifteen year old girl, you bet your ass I’ll hunt down my only child and try to be with her during these attacks, or at the very least made damn sure she’s somewhere safe... So... I have started doubting her parents based on that... They’re still a billion times better than Adrien’s fucked up family (even more so now that we met his aunt and cousin :D”), but yeeeah...

Favourite episodes: Desperada, for all three, the Luka content, Luka as a hero and the Adrien angst, also definitely Captain Hardrock because it actually introduces Luka, Silencer, because that Luka/Marinette content was really nice?

Favourite season/book/movie: season 2, probably

Favourite quotes: not really a quote-kinda-gal

Best musical moment: yes, please, give me a musical episode - I mean, come on, they have a BAND!

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: When Alya got the Fox Miraculous?? I was sooo looking forward to that

When it really disappointed you: every single time Marinette reverts back to her gross possessive behavior when it’s about Adrien. It’s... so exhausting and it was already exhausting in season 1, but the longer this drags on, it becomes cringey as fuck? It’s due time both Marinette and Chat grow the fuck up and start respecting the other person’s boundaries and start seeing them as people. Fully. Because occasionally, they do - and then they take ten steps back again and I am tired

Saddest moment: it’s not really a sad show...

Most well done character death: no one has died yet

Favourite guest star: GRANDPA BEING CALLED BAKERIX IN A CLEAR HOMAGE TO ASTERIX, if that counts

Favourite cast member: it’s a cartoon, so not really actors. And I am so not into tracking or remembering voice actors, so... can’t answer that

Character you wish was still alive: Again, no one has died xD”

One thing you hope really happens: THAT THEY FINALLY FORM AN ACTUAL FUCKING TEAM. Let the other Miraculous holders KEEP THEIR FUCKING MIRACULOUSES. After that disastrous season 3 finale, they GOTTA learn from it! They HAVE to realize how bullshit it is to keep all the Miraculouses in ONE place!!! PLEASE.

Most shocking twist: that Adrien’s mom is being kept in the basement. Like. I always knew Hawkmoth was Adrien’s dad and I suspected he wanted to rewrite reality around Adrien’s mom but that he fucking keeps her body in the basement. Why. What. No. Stop it.

When did you start watching/reading?: Ooof 2016

Best animal/creature: Plagg!!

Favourite location: there aren’t really any impressive locations in this show

Trope you wish they would stop using: Love Triangle. Love triangles can be fun. Admittedly, the Love Square had an interesting twist to it with the secret identities. But when they on top of that Love Square then ALSO added “but oh no! Now BOTH Marinette AND Adrien have ADDITIONAL potential love interests”, this has become some knotted-up nonsense that’s giving me a headache...

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: nothing, really? It got the child heroes, it got the Quippy Boy, it got the female lead who can just do abso-fucking-lutely ANYTHING and is perceived as that kind sweet girl by everyone around her and loved and adored by everyone, it did pretty much all the standard tropes in any superhero or magical girl franchise, but none very outstandingly better than other shows

Funniest moments: uuuhm drawing a blank here

Couple you would like to see: at this point, I would like to see Luka/Marinette and Adrien/Kagami become canon, because the dragged-out Not Good behavior displayed in the Love Square have started to become... uncomfortable for me to watch. I was really on board with them being endgame in season one, but post season 3, I think I’d prefer if both parties genuinely moved on with their new love interests

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: really not a voice actor kinda person so... *shrugs*

Favourite outfit: Chat’s

Favourite item: mh, I do think that I like the Fox Miraculous the best, design-wise

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?:I do own a Plagg plushy! ^-^

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: I would be a frequently akumatized human :D” (seriously, that bitch Hawkmoth gets to akumatize everyone over the smallest feelings of upset...)

Most boring plotline: it’s... it’s not like the show has a whole lot of plotlines... unless you really count every single episode’s akumatized person’s plotline... then honestly I think I wouldn’t even remember the most boring ones...?

Most laughably bad moment:I... just... I laughed and screamed at the screen when Hawk Moth got all the Miraculouses, because I have spent over a whole entire season screaming at my screen that it’s irresponsible and dumb to keep them all in one place, instead of leaving them with the individual carriers. Even louder so after the Master got compromised and went into active hiding. Like. It was only a matter of time until Hawk Moth finds you. So that was so incredibly avoidable and the fact that CHLOE ONCE AGAIN shows her greedy needy self-centered side and was the one enabling Hawk Moth was just... really frustrating (can you tell yet that I was not pleased with the season 3 finale? :D”)

Best flashback/flashfoward if any: Hasn’t really done a lot of flashbacks yet and I’m not big on the ones we got. Does Cat Blanc count as a flashforward, because it was also an alternate timeline? Though... I wasn’t really a fan of that either... mmmh...

Most layered character: They’re all not overly layered, in my personal opinion?

Most one dimensional character: I mean the majority of the characters. Like, most of Marinette’s classmates have like one personality trait assigned to them and that’s it? There’s not a lot of depth and character development going on with most of them

Scariest moment: really not a scary show xDDD

Grossest moment: thankfully enough also not a gross show :D

Best looking male: Luuuka I love his character design

Best looking female: Juleka!

Who you’re crushing on (if any): None

Favourite cast moment: I don’t follow those things, even less so with voice acting xD”

Favourite transportation: ...they... uh... had a train that went into space...? xD”

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): it’s not really a visually stunning show so I got nothing?

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you: I mean unanswered questions, a lot, considering the show is still on-going! Most of all, what exactly happened to Adrien’s mom

Best promo: I don’t pay attention to these things ^^°

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: I honestly can’t tell. I mean, I have come to love it, definitely, but I don’t really have one defining moment that I can say “this was it!”

IN DEPTH FANDOM QUESTIONS

[vapormaison]

2019 Best Japanese OST Press/Repress: Elfen Lied by Tiger Lab Records

Like many late millennials with artistic pretensions, I used to have an “Anituber” channel back in the wild west days of youtube. From 2010-2013 — roughly corresponding with my first three years in university — I reviewed DVD releases from ADV, Manga Entertainment, Central Park Media, and Geneon — all the big players in Western anime releases at the time, all dead and gone now with the rise of streaming. Everyone but Funimation — a sad irony and perhaps telling about the nature of the dubbing industry that the studio with a serial rape problem and established casting couch was the only one to survive.

In the interest of maintaining my personal ethics, posterity, and sanity I’ve long since deleted that channel. While there was definitely a “moment” on the platform for a nineteen year-old cokehead film student in front of a MacBook webcam doing his best Slavoj Zizek impression, that moment has long since passed. I’ve long since cooled on “substantive” media critique anyway. The world doesn’t need another Eisenstein-aligned Marxist analysis of Neon Genesis Evangelion — or, a 6-part series on using Lacanian techniques to develop a leftist praxis for Fate/Stay Night. Media exists in the present moment to be a salve for the postmodern hellscape we inhabit together.

As an interesting sidebar, the most popular video on that channel — raking in just north of 10k views over its lifetime from 2011-2015, was a twelve minute video essay on the 1995 anime Elfen Lied, where I asserted that it was the ultimate expression of contemporary Japanese anti-modern rage. While I don’t find myself particularly nostalgic for any of the content on that channel, I’m actually kind of proud of that one in particular.

While most of my analysis was fixated on the visuals, narrative, and recent oeuvre of its mangaka, Lynn Okamoto, and series director, Mamoru Kanbei, I did lay out a framework on why I consider it to be one of the most successful soundtracks ever produced for an anime. I did not heap this praise lightly, as that roughly fifteen year period of 1995-2010 was bookended by the OSTs of Evangelion and K-On! — and certainly proved to be one of the most sonically iconic periods that the medium has ever produced.

it was also one of the first soundtracks that spurred my own history of Japanese OST collection.

And, then, almost a decade later, I found out that Tiger Lab was releasing a vinyl of Elfen Lied.

In spite of this, when I originally the news, I felt a tinge of trepidation. This is not to throw shade at Tiger Lab, however — but at the reputation of previous releases of the Elfen Lied soundtrack in Japan. A quick adventure with google translate across the Japanese net for various Elfen Lied OST roleases — especially on CD — will reveal for you a lot of contempt from Otaku and anime-enthusiast audiophiles for any number of reasons. Most hinge on the quality of the physicals. This is often because Japanese physical media releases of anime soundtracks are often laden with fresh, exceptionally crisp and clean-sounding masters for CDs, and usually exclusive posters and other content geared toward the “collector” nature of many Otaku. This has usually not been the case with Elfen Lied.

A friend of mine in Kanagawa quipped “Sometimes it sounds better on the DVD” in regard to a number of OST releases of soundtracks from anime produced by Studio Arms with CD releases published by VAP. Admittedly, some of it must have been born in resentment, but I’ve always trusted the man’s opinion — as he’s invested a small family fortune into building a shrine of sorts to that studio’s output. He chalks up the poor release quality to the studio’s inability or lack of funds to master the content properly for a CD or HQ digital release, and VAP’s decline in release quality during the early 2000s roughly corresponding to a sale to another Zaibatsu. “Studio Arms made hentai for many years to stay solvent, maybe they could not send a good master to VAP [the publisher]” he told me. While I can’t know if it’s VAP, Arms or another studio handling the CD-master work, a cursory check of their oeuvre seems to confirm confirms that claim of his — but I acknowledge I’m wandering into uncharted waters here.

In spite of all that — I ordered the wax from Tiger Lab and was duly impressed. In lieu of reviewing each track as per my usual review format, in the following section I want to talk about my listening experience from the two formats I own the soundtrack in — the SA/VAP published CD from 2004 and Tiger Lab’s release. Once we finish going into the core differences — and why this vinyl is absolutely worth your purchase over competing physicals — I’ll go into the virtues of the listening experience on the whole.

Part 1: Comparisons of Select Tracks

I suppose the expectation is that I start off by taking about the most iconic recording from the series — the OP, Lilium. In the spirit of defying expectations, I’ll begin with what I consider a better litmus test.

My personal shit-test for a good master and press is how well it can handle a track that is sonically robust and diverse, crossing genre and form — requiring an intensive, sufficiently wide mix and refined master. You don’t get that on every OST album — but Elfen Lied offers one such potential track in particular, and that particular track happens to be my favorite composition on the entire album. Uso Sora, composed by Kayo Konishi and Yukio Kondo is a truly magnificent piece, and it’s used brilliantly in the series — for those familiar, I only need to quote one line: “M-m-mommy…?”.

It begins with lulling piano chords that gradually build in tempo and energy with the addition of percussion, and then it undergoes a full metamorphosis in its last minute or so to become an aggressive, frenetic techno piece with distorted lows and an angry drum kit. Mirroring the evolution of its subject in the show with understated aplomb, and functioning as a robust and enjoyable composition divorced from its source — it really deserve more recognition than it receives, but I do not doubt it will ever step forth from the massive shadow cast from the haunting chorals of Lilium, and the brilliantly directed visual intro that accompanied it.

Needless to say, Tiger Lab more than passed muster here, to the point where I’m almost blown away by just how good it sounds compared to the rest of my Elfen Lied related physicals. I experienced a definite brightness from the vinyl master over my stereo that I don't get from a lot of other Western label releases, like say Milano, which tends to cash in on a Westerner’s preference for warmth.  Tiger Lab deserves credit for this approach, because it genuinely feels like a more authentically “Japanese” sound. In my experience, the Western labels that care the most about the dedicated audiophile adhere to this sonic profile, and Tiger Lab deserves all due credit here.

Finally, I might as well include my thoughts on Lilium. In short, it sounds fantastic. The mix here really brings out the most of the chorals, and provides crisp and clean sounds where you want them most. It’s also one of those tracks where you can just feel the dynamic range before you even hear it. I ended up listening to these on my Cambridges, and I’ve got to say that’s there’s something in the way they treat this particular profile of song — strongly vocal dominated, extremely muted piano, and supporting string inhabiting the negative space — absolutely incredibly. It put the KEFs to shame. I’ve always asserted that you’ve got to pair certain songs with certain speaker pairs. I’ve never been a huge devotional music guy, and I’m not entirely sure that the Cambridge or KEFs provide ideal profiles for the track. That said, Lilium sounds great anyway.

But I can envision these on a pair of high end Yamahas, or a pair of vintage Blaupunkt bookshelves sounding as stone-cold killer as Lucy when Kouta’s threatened.

I sent a rip to my friend Hiroshi, the StudioArms Shrine man, who immediately snapped up a copy after listening. I also learned that it was actually the first vinyl purchase he’s ever made after two decades of serious collecting. So perhaps that is a testament in and of itself!

Part 2: Physicality

I rarely devote an entire section to talking about the vinyl/OBI itself, but then again, Tiger Lab has put out a release certainly worthy of this. First off, the cover, which pairs perfectly with the overall aesthetic of both the series and previous soundtrack releases. I can imagine this being a release that has already attracted some attention by Japanese collectors, as the cover seems to tap into a certain sense of continuity that I know are a huge hit with that community. It certainly pairs well with my two releases from VAP, and a laserdisc set that I have. They all opt for that very iconic Klimt Vienna Secession style with appropriate creative flourishes — but I like Tiger Lab’s take on it the most. The side characters populating the back in a choral array reminiscent of the Beethoven Frieze is also a really nice touch for any enthusiast of the fin-de-siècle style.

I picked up the pink vinyl on release, one of the few pink vinyls that I’ve bought that at least feels thematically consistent with the release and not just a default “vaporwave” or “city pop” or “future funk” styling. Diclonii rock the pink hair, after all. That all said, I’m wishing now that I got the “metallic gold” edition, as its another color that feels both apropos and stunningly beautiful. With all that in mind, this is also one of the better waxes that I’ve felt in-hand, and manages to feel robust. I’ve yet to find specific info, but it certainly feels like a 180g.

In conclusion, I’ve got to give immense credit to Tiger Lab for handling this release with a class and vigor that few Japanese publishers have given it. It certainly bodes well for the future of anime releases on vinyl, and makes me eager to fill out an emergent collection.

[itsadirtybusiness]

Everyone Just Swipe Left...

Life is a dirty business, death, divorce, diapers, dementia, dysfunction, and dating. Being able to laugh at our existence and all that goes along with it, I believe, is crucial to survival. In my dating world, there is a touch of dishonesty, in that, I don’t know what I’m doing, what I want, or if I want anything. Knowing what I don’t want is much easier to define, it’s easy to find flaws in people, especially if you’re looking for them.

My dating career was interrupted for about thirty years by a couple of marriages. After this hiatus I decided to try out Match.com. Things had changed a lot since I was in college, but I believed that the internet, my maturity level, and my life experiences prepared me for the journey on which I was about to embark, my first of many mistakes. I also believed that I was a strong woman and that I knew what I wanted. I established high level criteria: athletic, intelligent, educated, well-travelled, financially stable and no young children. I submitted my profile and certain that Mr. Right was just a click away, I went to bed hoping for the best.

I’m not a morning person, so waking up to sixteen messages saying, “Good morning beautiful” accompanied by an emoji, anything from a rose to a devil, became the kiss of death for my would-be solicitors. Instead of Cristal in a Waterford flute, my inbox was like a Solo cup filled with Boone’s Farm. My gut reaction was indignance, “LIARS! How dare you call me beautiful! You don’t know me.” I have strong opinions on beauty and number one is that it isn’t determined by flattering images on some app. It’s understanding who I am as a person and how I became the woman I am today. It’s depth of character and a strong understanding of self, and it implies a certain level of intimacy because I’ve opened myself to you, only then will I accept being beautiful as a compliment. Something that you, lame suitor, will now never experience.

A week in and I was already frustrated. I hadn’t even been on a date. “Stick with it.” My friends said. “It just takes time and patience” they said. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so picky” they said. “You have to kiss a lot of frogs” they said. I think they just wanted to hear my stories and validate their own relationships, sighing just a little as they thought, “Thank God it’s you out there and not me.” I bucked up and kept trying until I got a date.

My first and only match ended up being with a guy who didn’t tell me how beautiful I was before we met, but our date was still a disaster. I’ll spare the details of our meeting but as a result one of my friends suggested that dating sites should have some way to “Rate Your Date” like a Yelp review or rating your Uber driver. This could save us serial daters a lot of time and imagine how much better people would act if they knew they going to be reviewed? I think it’s a brilliant idea. The rating would be with hearts rather than stars and of course, plenty of space for comments. I would give a five-heart rating to a man that took me out to dinner, was a great conversationalist, kissed me goodnight and didn’t push the hookup; a man more interested in his phone or getting me into bed, than conversation would earn one heart. Deflated, I realized, if this was what dating had come to, I’d much rather be single. Peace out guys, I deleted my account.

Like Netflix and popcorn seasoned with crack, I couldn’t stay away. Shortly after my vow to remain single, I discovered Bumble, where the woman makes the first move. I set up my profile and a whole new world unfolded before me. I didn’t have to worry about unwelcomed solicitations, and I could pick and choose the guys that were appealing to me. I set the low end of my age range at 40, young, but old enough to have some life experiences under their belts and I topped them out at 65, putting myself squarely in the middle.

My Bumble profile reads:

I love to travel, read, run and play tennis. I am athletic, educated, financially stable and well-travelled. My children are grown with families of their own. I’m looking for someone similar. I love a good IPA and small batch gin. INFJ Vegan. No hook ups please. Trump supporters swipe left. 

Every connection I make gives me fodder for my ever-growing list of flaws. Unfortunately, there is a character limit, or my profile would now include the following:

If you have a girlfriend or you’re married, swipe left. You must be willing to meet, in person, if you just want to sext, have phone or FaceTime sex, swipe left. If you have the inclination to take a picture of your erect penis and send it my way, swipe left. If you think it’s appropriate to call me baby, honey, sweetie, sweetheart or any other cutesy name after one date, swipe left. If you don’t love animals or at least dogs, swipe left. If you think Democrats are trying to take your guns away or that the women of the #metoo movement were simply looking for their fifteen minutes of fame, swipe left. If you’re homophobic, swipe left. If you don’t believe in tipping at least 20% or you treat service staff poorly, swipe left. If you are needy and can’t give me my cherished space and solitude, swipe left. Not a football fan? Swipe left. Ohio State fan? Swipe left. If you don’t know the basics of ordering a cocktail or appetizer at a restaurant, swipe left. If you don’t return your grocery cart to its proper place, swipe left. If you don’t have Amazon Prime, swipe left. If you don’t know what an IPA is, swipe left. If you don’t know what vegan means, Google it or swipe left. If you can’t be bothered to read my profile, swipe left.

This paltry and arrogant attitude of mine led me to believe that men my age were a bit boring. I started matching with younger guys, much younger, like twenty years younger… The young thirty somethings were bold. They weren’t afraid to kiss me without asking first. They made me feel good about myself, but like any drug, the high was fleeting and superficial and I was constantly chasing it. What I crave is depth and meaning. I want to know how you recovered from the loss of your marriage. How you healed, if you even have? How did you tell your children and what did you do to help them cope? What music did you listen to? Did you start any new hobbies or activities? I want to know what makes you vulnerable. But the guys I’m talking to haven’t been married, they don’t have children. So, instead I say, “Oh! You like dogs and IPAs and put mustard on your fries? We have so much in common!” I guess that’s what happens when you date in your children’s age group. But, having a deep conversation with someone my own age is just asking for emotional exposure, I’d have to answer the same questions. I’m not willing to give depth and meaning so why should I expect it? Ghosting is so much easier. I tell myself I’m not being unreasonable; I just want to find a like minded man to hang out with. What I’ve managed to do is alienate most of the male population and probably earn myself a one heart rating. Especially from guys my age.

Finding the humor in all of this makes my failures more bearable. It relieves the pressure and absolves me of responsibility. Every now and then I ask myself what I’m doing with a guy younger than my daughter. I have yet to come up with a right answer. If I’m being honest, I think it’s a bit of a mid-life crisis mixed in with a tad of narcissism and a dash of not wanting to grow up. I also think it keeps me in control. I know that there is no chance of getting seriously involved with a thirty something. They’re safe, even if they are more prone to send a dicpic or request a naked picture than their older counterparts, I can pretend I’m closer in age to a college grad than a retiree. Finding the right guy is going to take a lot of effort. I’ve set near impossible expectations for anyone to meet and I insist on keeping myself impervious. I can talk about how boring men in my own age group are, but the reality is, I shun them out of fear, fear of growing old. They are a reminder of my age, a reminder that I’m on the downside of life, a reminder of my mortality. I’m not ready for that, if you are, swipe left.