#follow me for more beautiful opinions on a fifteen year old musical
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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
#covers mouth sorry so sorry guys#im a huge fan of beacon of positivity + good boy (elle puts a leash on emmett confirmed) + love and war (not in the demo but part of SF)#+ i liked some of the lyrics in the demo version of so much better (it called back to beacon of positivity!!! (i am insane)) such as:#I dream of your name next to my own but mine's looking fine up there alone#but i greatly prefer all the official songs we got. well. maybe good boy over ireland wouldve been fun (i think ireland is boring)#but itd play into the 'all men are dogs hurr hurr' joke that im glad they avoided. anyways. what was i saying.#right i havent listened to every version of everything yet (for example theres a SF version of chip on my shoulder i need to watch)#(and just the SF vers in general. shes hidden from me... why was emmett there before the remix... let me see their conversation)#but from what i have heard they made a lot of changes that were sorely needed. in take it like a man demo shes so much meaner??#it made me sad. it wasnt a duet + they wrung out the romantic tension (no subtext by calvin klein... sigh) + shes meaner!!!!#in the bway vers hes baffled but enjoys going along w it + she genuinely likes him even when hes wearing his regular clothes#but in the demo vers she keeps calling him stuff like ugly duckling and talking about how the geek is gone :( but she likes that geek..#the lines 'how much do you think i earn??' and 'kindly shut up :)' are funny but speak to a dynamic between the two that makes me sad...#follow me for more beautiful opinions on a fifteen year old musical#(heaves. do you know weird it is to see comments from 15yrs ago when this was actually showing. my brother is fifteen.)#god im so sorry i should be put down like a dog#lgb bootleggers are intense. i swear they got a bootleg every night or smth bc we got her shoe flying off + SF + kyle as understudy etc#go watch a so much better compilation sometime how did they take so many bootlegs?? how did you find them??#and its awesome cause these were filmed on 2007/2008 tech which means they have 15 pixels maximum#SORRRRYYYYYYYYYY
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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.Â
Pairing: Owen x reader
Warnings: Fluff, minor swearing, lots of singing
Songs used: Donât 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!Â
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.Â
Itâs 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 thatâs 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 hereâs the gist:Â
1. If one is teased or bullied, the other takes revenge 2. Always sing and dance together whenever one asks, even if you donât 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:Â
6. We will never, ever, ever date each other or each otherâs 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 otherâs dreams and successes 12. Always hate each otherâs 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 didnât want to go to a party since it was my exes party and weâre supposed to hate each otherâs exes. But, since heâs been in LA for most of senior year to pursue his acting career, I really couldnât 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 â100 things to do before High Schoolâ, 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 itâs always been a dream of mine to become a songwriter, while Owen went to LA to further pursue his career in acting. Weâve 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 Iâve been a fan of since the very beginning is an understatement. But they were so nice to work with. Weâd take turns flying to each otherâs 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 wasnât a big fan himself, he still listened to the album, mostly to listen to the songs Iâd written. Over FaceTime, we even played a game called âGuess what song Iâve writtenâ, and heâd 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, youâve gotten the nicest people to hire you. Since then, youâve 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 didnât 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. Itâs the thing you guys said you would do once you got older; get an apartment together. So, it was the only logical move. âWelcome to your new casa!â He said dramatically when leading me into the apartment. The tall white walls and large windows illuminated the entire place with a welcoming feeling. âLet me show you to your room, so you can drop off your excessive luggage and then Iâll give you the tour of the entire space.â I raise an eyebrow at his words. âBro, I have excessive luggage because I just moved from Boston to freaking LA!â I exclaim, followed by an amused chuckle as I try to push him, but fail since heâs much stronger. From that moment on, I knew moving in with Owen would be the best and worst idea I ever had.Â
And speaking of âworstsâ. 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 wouldâve been in London now, but instead, Iâm stuck in LA with my best friend who doesnât have a job at the moment since heâd 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. âHey, Nugget,â Owen says as he walks into the room we call our studio where Iâm working. âIâm kinda in the middle of something, Ace. Can it wait?â I know I shouldnât work out my frustration on my best friend, but it kind of fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself. âSorry, Nugget, Iâm kinda boredâŚâ I sigh exasperatedly and bob my head to signal his permission to come in. âWhat are you working on?â he asks as he sits down on the armrest of the armchair Iâm sitting on. âThis Little Mix song I canât seem to make work,â I reply and point to the notebook in front of me. âIâve got a few good lyrics, but the melody seems impossible.â Owen takes the notebook from me and closes it before getting up. âTime for a little break,â he says and goes to sit behind his drum kit. âGuess what song Iâm playing,â 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 weâve been playing every time Iâm in need of a break or just for fun. Weâd 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. âWhatâs it gonna be? Cuz I canât pretend Donât you wanna be More than friends Hold me tight and donât let go Donât let go Have the right to lose control Donât let goâ A smile appears on Owenâs as I get the first song right. He always underestimates my love for girl bands from the 80âs and 90âs. Though, I think he mightâve given me this one because Iâm so frustrated from working on that song. âYour turn,â 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 Iâm playing. Then, his eyes widen as he recognizes the sound. âIt 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 sideâ I let out a loud whoop in excitement, choking the strings to stop the sound. âI still canât do that rap though!â he actually sounds disappointed in himself. âWashington isnât gonâ listen to disciplined dissidents This is the difference This kid is out!â 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. âVery impressive, Nugget,â he replies with a smirk that sends shivers down my spine. Ever since I moved in, heâs gotten more and more flirty with me. Iâm not sure if itâs just a change in his personality that heâs acquired in Los Angeles or if itâs something else, but itâs there. Not that I mind. Something has shifted in me too since we moved in together. Itâs even gotten me thinking about removing rule number 6 from our pact. âYour turn, Ace,â I quickly change the subject, just so I donât 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. âAlright, an easy one,â he says and simply starts stomping the bass pedal to activate his bass drum.  Itâs a slow, almost menacing thump that sounds very familiar. A little too familiar. âOh, I need you more than words can say Oh, You saved me in ways I canât explain Always been there for me, now Iâll do the same Oh, I need you more than words can sayâ Itâs one of the two songs on Little Mixâs 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 heâll 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. âWon'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, alrightâ 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. âI 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, doâ My eyes lock with Owen for a moment. He shoots me a comforting smile that makes me feel right at home. And I donât mean here. I mean home as in Norman, Oklahoma. âOh, 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 sayâ We both stop playing and just look at each other for a while. Iâve never told Owen I wrote this song for him, but at the same time, I think he might already know. That doesnât take away the urge to tell him though. âI wrote that about you when I missed you,â I blurt out without properly thinking about it. âReally?â 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. âYeah, I thought youâd know?â He chuckles, shaking his head whilst tickling the strings. Iâd taught him a couple of songs on the guitar since we started living together. âYou write with a lot of people, Nugget. Couldâve just been their words as well....â He isnât wrong about that. Maybe it was a lot less obvious than I thought it was. âSo, what are the guidelines for this one?â he questions. I grab my notebook again and open it on the page I was working on before he fluttered into the studio. âThey didnât want another pop song. Kind of more like a âfuck youâ to Simon Cowell for treating them so badly and telling them what to do and what to wear and whatnot,â I explain, showing the few lines I have already. Some of them Jade had sent me, others were Perrieâs, a couple were mine. âWhat are most pop songs about?â Owen queries. I know heâs trying to help me, but heâs kind of making me nervous with the constant strumming of the guitar. âSongs about falling in love, or drinks and drugsâŚâ I sum up at the top of my mind, âOr heartbreakâŚâ 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. âThis ainât another pop song âbout falling in love Or a party song âbout drinks and drugs No more singing songs âbout breaking my heart And my lonely nights dancinâ in the darkâ 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. âIf Iâm a guilty pleasure I want this life forever Iâll take it all âcause anything is better Than another pop song âbout falling in love But if you wanna sing along say âI donât give a fuck!ââ Owen starts jumping around excitedly, and I canât 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. âLetâs record a demo!â he exclaims and, after handing me my guitar back, moves towards the recording equipment. âLetâs start with some guitar,â he says and thatâs 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 thisâll sound with the girlsâ voices instead of mine. âNo broken bottles Or glitter on the floor form the night before Ainât no boy troubles If thatâs what you came here for then you should knowâ 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. âThis song is epic!â she shouts into my ear before I can even say hello. âExactly what we needed, Y/N, thank you so much!â Iâve grown accustomed to her thick Geordie accent, though it was hard to understand in the beginning. âThanks, Jade! Owen helped me out a little,â 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. Iâd 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 didnât realize at the time and always denied. Rule 6 clearly states no dating each other. âGive him a big snog as a thanks then!â Jade jokes, and I can even hear the others in the background. âIâm on Zoom with the girls at the moment. They say hi!â âHi back!â I canât stop the giggle from escaping from my lips. âI gotta go, Jade. Thanks for getting back to me about the song. I canât wait to hear you guys singing it!â Jade snickers on the other side of the line. All while Iâm watching Owen make some pasta at the stove. Thereâs something so attractive about him in the kitchen, Iâm not sure what it is. Fuck, Jade is right. I am very much in love with my best friend and thereâs nothing Iâm going to be able to do about it. Stupid pact we made in the first grade. âWeâll call you later to discuss some more arrangements and stuff. Bye, Y/N!â âBye, Jade! Bye girls!â I say loudly, knowing Iâm probably on speaker phone anyway. âBye, Y/N!â 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. âThey loved it! They loved it! They loved it!â I shout loudly, and cup Owenâs face in my hands before pressing my lips to his in an outburst of elation. Iâm surprising yourself at first, but then melt into the familiarity of his embrace as his arms snake around my waist whilst kissing me back. Heâs actually kissing me back. âAnd thatâs rule number 6 out the doorâŚâ Owen mumbles when he pulls away. âIâm sorry, I shouldnât have,â I mumble and step away from him, or at least try to. His arms tighten around my waist, restricting me from taking another step. âIâve been thinking about talking to you about that stupid rule, Nugget. Iâve hated it ever since we were 16.â My eyes widen at his confession. Since we were sixteen? SIXTEEN? Thatâs four years ago. Thatâs even long before I realized I felt more for him than just a platonic love. â16? Why didnât you say anything?!â 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. âYou were pretty enamoured with Ryan, remember?â My heart breaks at the mention of the prickâs 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. âBesides, I was constantly on the move from LA to Norman, it wouldnât have been fair to youâŚâ âYouâre the sweetest human being alive, Owen Patrick Joyner,â I tell him with a smile tugging at my lips, but then turn serious again as I flick his forehead. He lets out an âowâ and shoots me a confused glare. âAnd the stupidest! Iâve been in love with you since I donât 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 youâd told me, I probably wouldâve realized sooner!â âWell��� I told you now?â he tries, the cheesiest smile on his face that makes me roll my eyes. âI love you, Ace,â I whisper, âAnd not the platonic kind this time.â âI love you too, Nugget.â 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:Â @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalonâ @caitsymichelle13â @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15â
Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist!Â
#julie and the phantoms#julie and the himbos#julie and the fat ones#jatp#owen joyner#owen x reader#owen joyner fic#owen joyner au#life in quarantine with owen#life in quarantine#not a pop song
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I Canât Wait For Forever
Ethan Payne (Behzinga) X Reader
summary - The Sidemen film yourâs and Ethanâs wedding, here are the fan favourite bits.
warnings - lack of father figure, panicking, swearings, my terrible writing
request -Â 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. Â 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."Â
"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." Â 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.Â
"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.Â
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.Â
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. Â 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.Â
"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'.
#behzinga x reader#sidemen#ethan payne#behzinga#ethan payne x reader#behzinga imagine#behzinga fanfiction#behzinga fluff#ethan payne imagine#ethan payne oneshot#ethan payne fanfiction#sdmn
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SOUTHPAW, PART 1: HEADCANONS.
notes: dear anon: thank you for making me appreciate jake the rapper! also i know nothing about rap, so iâm 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 youâre 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, itâs 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, iâve taken some loose inspiration from jakeâs actual work, but thatâs 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 cafĂŠs. 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 âfriendsâ 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, Cardiâs and Meganâs WAP but reversed. He does not rap about how good he fucks people. He raps about how good they feel. Thatâs 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, thatâs 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.
âDid you enjoy the show?â Jake asked you.
âFor 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.â
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 McDonaldâs, 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.
âNice pick.â
âWe finally agree on something.â
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. âPrincess, baby girl, beautiful, gorgeous, amazingâ, 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 donât understand so i could stare at jakeâs 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-hawâ ily
#jake gyllenhaal#jake gyllenhaal smut#jake gyllenhaal imagine#jake gyllenhaal x reader#topic: rapper!jake#series: southpaw
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CHAPTER TWO
âthe cell buddies reunitâ
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 donât 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 didnât expect this outcome.
âBitch! Wake the fuck up!â Thatâs 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, Maxâs 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, thatâs how they became friends: after defending a Pogue from a Kook in primary school. Since then, they were inseparable, being each otherâs number on and other half.
âHow the hell did you get into my house?â Max asked letting her elbows hold her head up.
âYour brother let me in.â She said shrugging her shoulders but Max looked at her confused.
âBut Fred is supposed to be at work..â
âOh, no, no. Cody let me in.â
âDamn it, heâs not supposed to open the door when someone knocks.â 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. âWhat did you do?â
âI may have yelled âDude let me inâ multiple times when you didnât answer your phone. I think he got annoyed and thatâs why he let me in, but letâs just say it was because he recognised me and not because my voice is annoying.â
âSam, you have to stop yelling to come into my house.â Max said and started to changer her pijama into some comfortable clothes. âOne day my parents are going to be here and I donât think they would like to be woken up by your screams.â She finished changing and then walked out of her room to look for her little brother.
âItâs not my fault that youâre a super heavy sleeper and you donât hear anything!â Sam said while following her. âAnd talking about your parents, do you know when are they coming home?â
Max let out a little sigh. She didnât like to talk about her parents, specially since she hadnât seen them in person in a long time. âWe spoke yesterday, they still donât know.â
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.
âCody!â Max yelled. Seconds later, her fourteen year old brother appeared on the living room with messy hair and half closed eyes. âLooking good, dude.â She said trying to hold on a laugher after seeing her little brotherâs conditions.
âWell, if your best friend hadnât come so early I wouldâve been able to sleep fifteen more minutes.â He said annoyed and Sam walked to where he was with a smile on her face.
âOh câmon, are you mad at me for not being able to sleep fifteen more minutes?â
âFifteen minutes are fifteen minutes!â
âWhat is it with this family and their love for sleeping!â Sam said shaking her head.
âWe appreciate the little things in life.â Max said and then walked closer to her brother. âFred told me that heâs going to be spend the night at the hotel and-â
âOh, wait, that means youâre cooking tonight? I canât have pasta again or Iâll die!â
âDonât be so dramatic! And maybe you can do your own cooking from now on if you donât like my lovely meals.â Sam and Cody gave each other looks and Max opened her mouth offended. âFine, I wonât do my famous sauce anymore. Your loss. But thatâs not why I called you... Fred told me that heâs going to come back tomorrow morning because some old rich people are at the hotel and his boss wants him there all day.â
âSo that means I have to make lunch today?â Cody said like it was not the first time it happened. Because it wasnât.
Three siblings living in the same house trying to take care of each other itâs harder than it looks. Fred Belinsky, being the older child, he was the responsable one. Took over the âfatherâ 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 âOcean Driveâ. Wasnât 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 didnât 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 couldnât help in anything else than on the house.
âSo, what happend last night?â Sam asked Max once they were out the house, walking towards the âOcean Driveâ.
âWell, I have to do 24 hours of community service. Nothing serious.â Max shrugged her shoulders. Deputy Millerâs words came into her mind and she looked down.
âI feel so bad! I wish a could help you! Fuck it, Iâll be there. Donât worry about it.â
âIâm pretty sure Officer Johnson is going to be there watching, you wonât be able to help me.â
âI donât give a shit about Johnson, heâs an asshole.â Sam shrugged her shoulders and Max nodded, letting out a little laugh.
âDonât feel bad, I wonât be alone anyway.â
âWhat?â Sam furrowed her eyebrow confused.
âI havenât told you. Iâm going to do it with the one and only JJ Maybank.â
âWhaaaaat?â Sam asked surprised. âYeah! I heard he got into some trouble last night at a party.â She stopped to think and then added after letting out a sigh. âKooks, isnât it?â Max nodded.
âAnnoying Kooks. What else?â
âSo... JJ Maybank, huh?â She shook her head. âI donât really understand what the girls see on him? Heâs cool and all, but what else?â
Max didnât 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.
âLooking like a whole damn meal.â 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. âDonât forget, dinner is in the fridge, donât open-â
âDonât open the door to strangers, I know, Max. Itâs not my first time being alone in the house.â 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.
âLooking good for some Pogues.â A blonde guy said and the others laughed.
âLooking bad for someone with money.â Max said quickly.
Sam let out a loud laugh and one of the guys locked eyes with her. âWhy donât you guys forget about that lame party your friends are throwing and come join us?â
Max and Sam locked eyes with each other and then a loud laugh came out of their mouths simultaneously.
âSomething funny?â The same guy asked.
âYeah, itâs hilarious that you guys think that youâre on our league!â Max said while laughing before turning around and continue walking towards the beach, leaving the Kooks behind.
âOh, I really needed that tonight.â Sam said and Max nodded with a smile. âMaking fun of Kooks always makes me feel better.â
âYou know what else makes me feel better?â Max said once the music that was coming from the beach started to get louder. âBeer!â
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 wasnât 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.
âHereâs my cell buddy!â Max turned her head to see JJ next to her with a cup of beer on his hand.
âHaving fun JJ?â Max said with a little smile after seeing JJ drank his entire drink in one big sip.
âI am now that youâre here, princess.â Max quickly shook her head and grabbed JJâs arm, pulling it away from her shoulders.
âDonât call me princess.â
âBut I like that nickname for you, baby!â Max rolled her eyes and got up from where she was. âDonât get mad!â 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 JJâs. 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. âSorry dude!â
âUh, I donât know what the fuck was that..â Sam waved her hand between Max and JJ. âBut Iâm Sam, nice to meet you.â
âNice to meet you too, Sam. Iâm JJ, Maxâs cell buddy.â JJ winked at Max, she gave him an obvious fake smile and then proceeded to take a big sip of her beer.
âThere you are dude!â 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 didnât 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 wouldnât miss the opportunity to hug each other and remember the old times.
âMax!â Kie said after locking eyes with Max. She ran towards her and wrapped her arms around her back, making it into a tight hug. âI havenât seen you since summer started, what have you been up to?â
âGetting intro trouble, thatâs for sure!â JJ said behind her. Kie rolled her eyes at her drunk friend and then came back to Max.
âHeâs not wrong.â 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. âIâm Sam.â
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 Kieâs 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.
âYou know what I missed the most about our adventures when we were kids?â Max asked turning to her friends. Kie furrowed her eyebrows waiting for an answer. âOur dances on top the the kitchen table.â A smile appeared on Kieâs face. Sam just lifted her arms into the air excited and walked to the group of people dancing, followed by her two friends.
âI hope our dances now are not like our dances back then.â Kie said jokingly and Max let out a little laugh, before letting the music guide her body.
Max didnât knew how many songs she danced with the girls. Her two hands werenât 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.
âWhat happend?â 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.
âTake it back.â 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. âThere she is.â
Max looked around confused. âHuh?â
âWhy would I take it back? Itâs the truth.â He said proudly. Max noticed that what the guy was talking about made JJ even more angry. âI would love to take her home with me tonight.â
âExcuse you?â Max quickly said while walking closer to him. âWhat did you just say?â
âDonât deny it baby! You would love to.â
âI would rather drown than go home with you, dickhead.â
âYou heard the lady, now, back off dude.â 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 JJâs hand and started to ran away knowing that the Kooks would go after them both.
âYou bitch!â 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.
âHoly shit!â JJ yelled after letting out a big laugh.
âJust keep running you idiot!â Max was still grabbing JJâs while running, she was the one pulling him making sure he was behind her.
âWhere the fuck are you taking me?â Max turned around at a dark corner on the street trying to lose the Kooks. âAre you going to kill me?!â JJ said after looking at his surroundings.
âIf I wanted you dead, I wouldnât be taking you away from those Kooks!â 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 JJâs hand and she pushed him inside.
âDo you see them?â JJ asked when Max stared to look out the window.
âI donât, but I donât think they saw us getting inside.â Max let out a big relief breath and then let her back rest on the wall.
âNice house.â JJ said while looking around. âAre you parents home?â JJ turned to Max and she shook her head. âWow, you bring me home when your parents arenât here? Max... buy a boy dinner first.â
She let out a little laugh and then started to walk to the kitchen. âIn your dreams, Maybank. Besides, my little brother is here.â
âYour brother?â JJ asked, and like a calling spell, Cody walked into the kitchen.
âYou bring a guy home when Fred isnât? Seriously Max?â Cody said lifting an eyebrow.
âThatâs what I said little dude!â JJ said and Cody turned to him.
âJJ Maybank?â Cody asked and then a little smile appeared on his face. âYouâre like the best surfer in Outer Banks!â
âWell, I donât like to brag, but I kinda am.â JJ nodded proudly and Max rolled her eyes.
âDonât like to brag, huh?â 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. âI donât like this.â Max shook her head and they finally turned to her.
âWhat? I canât be friends with your little brother?â
âYouâre a bad influence!â Max pointed at JJ and he took his hand to his chest pretending to be offended.
âOh, because youâre a great influence.â Cody said sarcastically. JJ turned to him with a proud smile and then nodded.
âNice, bro.â JJ handed his hand to Cody and they did a handshake like they been friends since birth.
âUnbelievable!â Max threw her hands into the air annoyed and the proceeded to pour herself a drink of water. âCody, itâs late, go to your room!â
âOk, then, Iâll be listening to music so you two donât have to worry about me.â He said before walking away. Max opened her mouth surpised and embarrassed but JJ just let out a little laugh.
âCody!â She felt her cheeks burn so she took a long sip to hide it. âSorry for that.â
âDonât be, heâs a smart kid, clearly he noticed this obvious tension between us two and he mentioned it. Heâs doing my job.â 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. âOuch!â
âYou totally deserved that.â 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. JJâs words âTake it back.â came into the mind once she sat down on the floor and the curiosity hit her body.
âAre they around?â JJ asked once he sat down infront of her, infront of the door.
âNo.â She said and then closed the curtain. âWhy did you got so angry when that guy said something about me?â 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. âI donât like when Kooks say something like that about my friends.â
âOh, weâre friends now?â Max said with a little smile.
âYeah, I mean, you brought me to your home when your parents arenât here, after a party, at least we have to be friends right?â JJ said with a little smirk.
âOh, yeah, because not being friends with a girl stopped you before huh?â
âIs that how you see me? That hurts!â 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. âHey! I made you laugh, thatâs a win for me!â
âWith all jokes aside..â Max grabbed JJâs arm to pull him up and lock eyes with him. âThank you for having my back, but you donât have to fight someone for me, I can handle myself.â
âI know, but thatâs what friends do.â 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.
âI donât think theyâre looking for us anymore, you can go if you want.â Max got up and JJ did the same.
âWhy are you kicking me out so soon, princess? But Iâm going to miss you!â
âDonât call me princess! Besides, we have community service tomorrow, remember?â
âAh yes, iâm going to sleep more peacefully now.â JJ let out a relief breath and Max shook her head.
âBye bye, Maybank...â She said after opening the door and moving to the side so he could walk outside.
âBye bye, Belinsky.â 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
hereâs part two! I would love to know what you guys think of the series so far! :)
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Ch. 1
Characters: Coralie Van Alst, Mozart, Comte
Tagging: @plumpblueberryâ (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: Donât speak unless prompted.
Two: Every performance shall be perfection.
Three: Always please the clients
Four: No outside relations beyond the job.
Sheâd 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.
âAh, Comte! What a wonderful party. We greatly appreciate the invitation. Your pianist, Wolfram, Iâd like to have him play a duet with my Coralie.â His hands rested on the young girlâs 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. âMonsieur DuPont, I was unaware you had a daughter.â
Grant chuckled, digging his fingers into her bared skin when she didnât immediately return the friendly smile. âNo. This lovely, gifted violinist is sadly not of my blood. I am simply showcasing her talent here in Paris.â
âI see. However, I do not dictate whom Wolfram plays with, but I am more than willing to introduce her to him. That is, if youâd like.â
The tension was thick in the air between the two powerful men. Most groveled in the great Grant DuPontâs presence. This man was quite different. Coralie dare not check to see how her benefactor reacted to Comteâs veiled pleasantries.Â
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. Heâd 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 donât 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. âDo take good care of my lovely Coralie. Sheâs very precious to me.â His tone light but she recognized it for what it was.
She was a commodity that brought him fame and fortune.
âI certainly will. Mademoiselle Coralie, I will escort you to Wolfram.â
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 wasnât just her, they were watching.
âI havenât had the pleasure of hearing you play, but the talk among my friends is all high praise. Are you from Paris?â Heâd heard many things. The young girl having only been here for a half a year and yet all social circles knew of her.
âNo, Monsieur. My homeland is Belgium. Monsieur DuPont has been most gracious to house me and guide me in performing while I am here.â Always praise the one who has done so much for her family.Â
Comte hummed in response. Heâd 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? âAh, Wolfram, a moment please.â
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 Comteâs introduction, to the reason sheâd been brought to him. Mozart hadnât the opportunity to respond before Comte was called away by another gentleman. Left with only the girl, he politely declined, âIâve completed my obligation to play for the evening. Perhaps another time.â
Coralie suspected that to be a placation. The pianist had no intention of playing another time. âPlease reconsider. It would be advantageous to duet with me.â
âAdvantageous? Iâm in no need of benefactors or patrons. Of what advantage would it be to me?â Mozart lost his facade for a split second. His violet eyes narrowed then softened. There were far too many people within earshot. âForget the question. I simply do not play with partners.â
Yes, sheâd discovered that in her research.
Itâs of no consequence. You perform a duet.
Her benefactor would be quite upset if she didnât get this man to agree. Who could say what he might do to her family? âI understand. Most in our profession do not have the aptitude for an impromptu performance.â
âPrecisely-â
âI am not one of them,â Coralie said, bringing her mismatched eyes up to meet his gaze. If heâd 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. âNone of them possess my skill. Please perform one song with me.â 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, heâd surely be incredibly displeased. He likely wouldnât understand why she felt the need to. Coralie had to make Wolfram understand how much she wanted to play with him.
âOne song.â 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. âOne song and then you will never approach me again.â
A single chance was all she needed to prove her worth.
The pair didnât 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 sheâd lit up at his song choice confused him.
Mozartâs Sonata 16 in C Major, first movement, do you know it?
Of course, she was well versed in all Mozartâs 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. Theyâd captured every ear, every heart with a poised rendition of Mozartâs 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 sheâd 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.
âIt wasnât unbearable. Although, Iâd say youâve plenty of room to improve.â Wolframâs voice grounded her back in the world void of their dazzling melody. He didnât make a habit of chasing after other musicians, but this girl... âYou deviated from the song as written.â
âIt complimented the original composition,â she countered.
âIrrelevant. You should always play as the composer intended.â
Coralie turned her gaze up to the night sky. The stars crowded between the gray clouds twinkled in applause. âI pay no attention to anybodyâs praise or blame. I simply follow my own feelings.â
Silence followed her statement.
âNo 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, donât you think?â Coralie turned to face him, a tender smile on her lips. There were few who could understand why she felt that way.
Mozart hadnât the chance to respond. Heâd 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.
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#ikevamp mozart#ikevamp comte#ikevamp oc#coralie van alst#the essence of music#new ikevamp oc#she's a sweetie#the day she finds out that he's actually mozart tho#that will be a fun scene to write
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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 Iâd been out of work for months. Mornings there I ran in long, uneven ovals on the same roads Iâd memorized in high school. Thereâs 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 isnât the case, but wouldâve been rad. First, I stopped dead to send some outraged, misspelled text messages, and then I ran home faster than Iâd moved in years.
Tall, blonde, patrician pop star Taylor Swift is to me something like a cross-between a wife and a boogeyman. Bound weâve been since we were really children. Time and its changes havenât rid me of her, and whatâs 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 Swiftâs 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 donât know Taylor Alison Swift, born to this world in, I presume, the usual way. But my Taylor Swift? Iâm a renowned expert. Iâve always eaten up storiesâmovies, music, celebrity news, the one my grandfather tells about falling off his bike once in Ireland as a boy and his face âcracking open like an eggââlike a starved dog. Iâm obsessive about my interests, but not inclined to intense fandom, and certainly not fandom in the mode of the stan. For one, Iâm too self-absorbed. But caring intensely for a famous person is falling in love with a ghost, and thatâs all rightâI mean, what the hell? Weâre here together just dying... Letâs enjoyâbut 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. Itâs 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 donât know at all. I have some conjectures on the matter, and, as with all my conjectures, every hackneyed theory, each picky little opinion, Iâm sure theyâre perfect, brilliant, just absolutely right, but thatâs 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 Iâd politely avert my eyes before, yes, dive-bombing the group text. Thereâs nobody on Earth Iâd stand in line to speak to, but then Iâve 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 fatherâs 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, âFifteenâ 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. (âPagesâ) At that point, Taylorâs most recent release was 2012âs 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 Iâve 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 tasteâand trespasses against tasteâand 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. Iâm just no longer so inclined to fawn. This is not to say I am here to offer a Taylor Swift hate screed. I couldnât swing it, and, anyway, Iâm not a pop feminist-for-hire circa 2010. But weâre older now. Things are different. At twenty-eight, twenty-nine this monthâTaylor will, also this December, turn thirty-oneâI 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.Â
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 Dunkinâ Donuts parking lot.Â
And folklore is great. Thatâs the terrible thing. Slightly less great, maybe, than some people have insisted, tricked, I think, by just the pronounced shift in sound. But itâs great. A little gift I asked for a thousand times and was still surprised to get, like a wife who didnât expect her henpecked husband to ever follow through and buy the paraffin wax hand bath as-see-on-TV. For years, Iâve been halfheartedly insisting that Taylor had a great album in her. Iâd 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 âGetaway Carâ 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 âCornelia Streetâ made those old scars sting. That gay âDelicateâ video. When she did âCall It What You Wantâ on SNL and played guitar while wearing an ugly sweater. If the abominable âME!â, lead single off Lover, was the stick, 1989âs âCleanâ 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 Swiftâs next album would be, âher Nebraskaâ, 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, âblind faith in the as of yet untapped greater artistic potential of massively wealthy and popular singer Taylor Swiftâ 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 (Iâve 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 itâs 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... Itâs great.
In talking about folklore a bit this week, there are a number of specific topics I intend to coverâwhat a thrill it is to hear Taylor say âfuckâ; Taylorâs terrifying birth chart; the astoundingly perfect bridge of âthe last great american dynastyâ; âbecause my ass is located at the back of my bodyâ; the bit in last yearâs âLoverâ where deranged WASP Taylor Swift implies that to âleave the Christmas lights up til Januaryâ is some signifier of being a love-struck bohemian, when actually everyone who doesnât 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 canât see that are cowardsâbut intend mostly to let the muse move me where she will. Against the advice of my better angels, sheâthat tie-in marketing eldritch terrorâalways does.
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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
himÂ
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 couldnât 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.Â
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 didnât have to be Shawn Mendes but just Shawn, and there wasnât anyone else he wanted to share that with besides her.Â
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.Â
Sure, they hadnât labeled their relationship to official but Shawn knew that this right here was all the confirmation he needed. He didnât 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 wouldnât 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.Â
He missed his life in LA and missed the late night in the studios. There wasnât 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 wasnât 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 wasnât perfect. The media werenât always the most positive towards Shawnâs relationships and if someone happened to snap one picture of the two of them, he knew everything would crumble to bits.Â
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. Thatâs 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.Â
âCan you stop laughing at me,â Y/N whined, face red from embarrassment, pasta sauce dripping down her chin.
Shawnâs chest vibrated as he laughed, âWell, itâs not my fault that you completely missed your mouth.âÂ
âHey, thatâs not fair. You were distracting me,â she replied, trying to defend herself.Â
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. âDistracted you? I was just eating my pasta.âÂ
âSure, just eating your pasta. Iâve never seen anyone eat pasta that way,â she reasoned taking the napkin that sat next to her to wipe her chin.Â
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. âAre you making fun of the way I eat?âÂ
âNo, not all,â she teased head tilting to the side in that adorable way he loved so much, âJust the way you eat pasta.âÂ
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.Â
âIâm pretty sure, you would have gotten a little mad if I let you walk out with that still on your face,â Shawn smirked, sucking the remnants of the sauce off his thumb.Â
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 didnât 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.Â
âHowâs everything tasted so far?â 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.Â
Shawn offered the waitress a small smile and quickly responded before Y/N could, âAmazing.âÂ
âThatâs what I like to hear,â the waitress replied getting ready to walk away but stopped as he continued.Â
âYeah, actually could we get some boxes for the food. If we could get the check too that would be lovely,â he sweet talked, noticing Y/N roll her eyes from across the table.Â
The waitressâs smile widened, âOf course, Iâll get right on that for you, darling.âÂ
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, âYouâre such a kiss ass, you know that?âÂ
âWhat?â he fanned surprise, âI was just being polite because of the great service that we got tonight.âÂ
âSure,â she responded, not sounding convinced at all.Â
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. âI was supposed to pay this time!âÂ
He sent her a smirk, âGotta be faster there, hun. Maybe next time.âÂ
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. âWhy are we leaving so quickly anyways? Itâs not even late. In fact, itâs only eight-thirty. Plus your flight doesnât leave until nine tomorrow.âÂ
He knew what she was doing. She wasnât 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 shouldnât be in a hurry. And because he knew Y/N so well, Shawn didnât fall for it. Even the pout didnât work which would have if he wasnât the guy who was sat across from her.Â
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 wouldnât 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 Shawnâs card.Â
âThank you for coming in tonight, guys,â she said kindly handing over the credit card.Â
He took it and slipped it into his wallet as he replied, âNo thank you so much. Everything tasted really amazing.â
âWell feel free to come back anytime,â the waitress smiled, âAnd have a lovely night.âÂ
âYeah, you too,â Y/N spoke up, her pout wiped off of her face.Â
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 Shawnâs hand placed on her lower back the whole time, the box of pasta in his other hand.Â
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.Â
She bolted for the rampâs 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, âOkay you can tell me now.âÂ
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 thatâs 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 didnât quite make it to the counter. Actually, it didnât 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.Â
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 hadnât spilled and as Shawnâs eyes moved up Y/Nâs 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.Â
His pupils were dilated and they were only able to focus on one thing, her plump lips. Shawnâs 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/Nâs, his lips dying to taste hers. Knowing he couldnât 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.Â
âAre you going to pick that up?âÂ
Shawnâs 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, âItâs fine.âÂ
âFine,â she retorted the word sounding sour on her tongue as her hand gestured towards the box, âYou dropped it on the floor.âÂ
If he wasnât 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. âYeah, but itâs still in the box,â he mumbled out, knee finding a way in between her legs, parting them.Â
âYeah but itâs still on the floor,â she argued, shutting down all of his advances for a fucking box of pasta, âI was going to eat that.âÂ
He sighed, warm breath fanning across her lips, âAnd you can still eat it. Later.âÂ
âShawn-âÂ
âIâm trying to kiss you right now and youâre worried about the fucking pasta?â he asked, eyebrows furrowed, and clearly frustrated.Â
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 Shawnâs lips that were glistening from his tongue wetting them.Â
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.Â
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 didnât 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.Â
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 didnât know when heâd be back. Whatever the reasons were, they just couldnât get themselves to stop kissing the other or getting familiar with the way the otherâs body worked. To an extent of course.Â
They hadnât slept together, in fact, they hadnât 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 didnât want to rush things and have it all falling apart later.Â
Adrenaline was coursing through Shawnâs 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.Â
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 Shawnâs defined torso underneath.Â
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. âHey. Wait, wait, wait.âÂ
âWhat?â she asked, fingers tingling at how warm his skin was.Â
Shawnâs 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.Â
âAre you sure about this?â 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.Â
Her lips curled into a soft smile, revealing her teeth, and Shawn swore that his heart had stopped for a mere second, âYes. Iâve never been more sure about anything.âÂ
Instantly, his mouth widened in a smile, and couldnât 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 didnât 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/Nâs mouth.Â
+
herÂ
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 wasnât.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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 Shawnâs that sat in a hamper basket. You threw it over your body and tiptoed into the large bathroom, closing the door behind you.Â
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.Â
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 didnât take as much energy out of you compared to a full-on breakdown which meant it lasted longer and felt just as painful.Â
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 hadnât had in almost a year. One that had only caused you to wake up shaking and in tears when you were in the hospital.Â
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. Thatâs why you were standing in Shawnâs 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 wasnât close to being as bad as it was before and why a day before your surgery?Â
Your surgery was scheduled for the day after tomorrow, the day after Shawnâs flight back to LA. He wasnât going to know, you decided, because it was something he didnât 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 werenât a child anymore. You were an adult who was capable of making your own decisions.Â
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 werenât going to keep it in the dark, your cancer. You hadnât 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.Â
It will be done and you wonât 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 couldnât have him there if you ended up dying on that OR table.Â
The drowning. The dream of you drowning, had to have meant nothing, thatâs what you kept telling yourself but if you really thought that it didnât 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 wouldnât have heard it.Â
Quickly, you wiped at your eyes, riding them of any tears but they were still red and there was no way Shawn wouldnât 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.Â
âHey, you okay?â he asked, body leaning against the doorway, as he rubbed at his eyes.Â
You nodded, head down, hoping he couldnât see yours, âYeah, fine.âÂ
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. âAre you sure? Because you donât look so good. I mean you look beautiful, like always, but youâre just looking a little ill.âÂ
His amber orbs were scanning your face, thumb stroking your cheek and you wanted nothing more than to tell him. But you knew you couldnât 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.
âYeah, just had a nightmare,â you replied, getting into the bed and pulling the covers up.Â
Shawn still stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and gaze on you, âDo you want to talk about it?âÂ
You shook your head, âI just need to go back to sleep and so do you. You have a flight in the morning.âÂ
âDonât remind me,â he said, crossing the length of the floor from the bathroom to the bed.Â
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.Â
âItâll be fine,â you assured him, mind already being brought away from the dream.Â
âI know it will be,â 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. âJust going to miss this; Canada, my family, you.âÂ
You smiled, âIâm going to miss you too, Shawn.âÂ
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.Â
+
The next morning, you woke up with the sun peeking through the blinds and into your eyes. You couldnât move at first, the night before traveling through your mind. From the moment you walked through Shawnâs front door to when you woke up and ended up in his bathroom, tears rushing down your face.Â
Finally, you thought about how you fell back asleep, safely in your best friendâs 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 didnât even fully know what it had been about, but didnât push you to tell him and still hugged you until you fell asleep. Slowly, you sat up in the bed, Shawnâs shirt falling down to the middle of your thighs, and instantly as you stood thatâs when you felt it. The soreness that resonated from your whole body, primarily between your legs. You stumbled as you took a step.Â
âShit, Shawn,â you grumbled, hand gripping the end of the bed.Â
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 Shawnâs 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.Â
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 Shawnâs 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.Â
As the chorus of the song hit, he spun around on his heels, eyes widening as they landed on you. âGood morning!â he exclaimed, hands raised high in the air.Â
âWhat are you doing?â a giggle slipped as you asked the question.Â
âMaking breakfast,â he grinned, gesturing towards the stack of pancakes that sat on the island with the spatula, âYou hungry?âÂ
You groaned, âStarving.âÂ
Letâs see surgery was around six oâclock in the evening tomorrow and you couldnât 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.Â
As he pulled away, he hummed in satisfaction, âMinty. I see you brushed your teeth.âÂ
âWell I wasnât going to walk out to have you kiss my morning breath,â you replied, walking around the counter to take a seat on a stool, mug of tea in your palms.Â
âI think I would have survived,â Shawn chuckled as he turned back to the oven to flip the two pancakes that were being cooked, spitting verses as he did so. âHow are you feeling?âÂ
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. âA little sore, actually.âÂ
At your words, his head snapped in your direction, a grin forming on his face. âI actually was asking because of the whole you having a nightmare last night.âÂ
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. âOh, shit. Right.âÂ
A laugh burst from his chest, his eyes gleaming as they looked at you and your flustered state, âYeah but you know I donât mind hearing that either.â
You chuckled nervously, hand tugging at the collar of the shirt anxiously as you knew your face was stained red. The action, though you hadnât noticed caught Shawnâs eyes and he couldnât 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. âBy the way, love the shirt.âÂ
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. âYeah? You like it?âÂ
âLooks so much better on you. If only you could walk around in my clothes all day.âÂ
âEasy,â you joked, attention falling back on the food at the sound of your stomach.Â
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 Shawnâs body and the clothes he was wearing. âYouâre dressed already.âÂ
âMy flightâs at nine, remember?â he said, eyes glancing over towards you.Â
Your eyebrows furrowed, âWell what time is it?âÂ
âSeven thirty.âÂ
Your eyes widened, âOh shit, already. Youâre supposed to be leaving soon and Iâm guessing youâre probably waiting for me to leave.âÂ
Setting the syrup back down, you went to stand but Shawn turned hand taking yours on the counter, âHey, hey, hey. Slow down. Itâs fine. Iâve already called a car and theyâre getting here soon.â
âI should probably get going then.âÂ
His hand squeezed yours, âNo, you donât have to. Take as much time as you want.âÂ
You cocked an eyebrow, âBut donât you have to lock up because letâs just say, I would be the one to accidentally get locked outside of your apartment in only my underwear and your shirt. Itâs not like Iâd be able to get back in.â
He didnât 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.Â
âWhat?â you asked hesitantly, thinking he was up to something.Â
Following his gaze, your eyes caught sight of a key. Your breath hitched in your throat because that wasnât Shawnâs 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.Â
Your throat became dry, âIs that a key to your apartment?âÂ
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. âWhy?â you asked.Â
âWell, I was thinking, that I donât know how long Iâm going to be gone and for the last almost week this is where you have been staying. Letâs say that you found out you forgot something here and the thing is Iâm in LA so there isnât a way for you to get it back unless you call the landlord or I just happen to magically show up. Or what if youâre just missing me and want to come throw on one of my hoodies and chill on the couch. Iâm not saying you would have to take the key because itâs a big step but weâve been friends for a long time so itâs really not that big if you think about it. So you can take it or donât take it. Doesnât really matter.â he was rambling at this point, cheeks becoming rosy, as you smiled at him from where you sat.Â
âShawn,â you responded cutting off his rambling, âYes.âÂ
âYes?â the word came out high and rushed, eyes wide as they looked towards you.Â
âYes,â you confirmed nodding, âIâll take the key.â
A second passed before it seemed to register in Shawnâs 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 âYes!â came from his lips.Â
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 Shawnâs 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 hadnât 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.Â
It only took a few more seconds before Shawnâs hand had wandered lower and gave your butt a tight squeeze through the navy shirt. You gasped pulling away from his hot lips. âShawn,â you scolded.
âWhat?â he asked, sounding so innocent.Â
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, âHereâs the deal, last night I fucked you and I fucked you⌠hard. I think itâs only fair that I get ass privileges.âÂ
âReally,â you mumbled, sass dripping off the word, as you rolled your eyes.Â
âHey, donât give me that attitude,â he said, voice sounding firm, though there was a smile spreading across his face, âYou know Iâm an ass man.â
You nodded, hand coming up to comb through the side of his curls, causing a sigh to fall from his lips, âYeah, I think that itâs very clear with all the grabbing youâve been doing in the last two days.âÂ
âSorry, itâs not my fault that you are so damn beautiful,â 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.Â
Though you didnât 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 âhe should go before you grab onto him again and never let him go.â You smiled up at him, hand brushing his cheek causing the sweetest smile you had ever seen to form on his pink lips.Â
âI should go,â he whispered, breath hitting your lips.Â
âI know,â you replied just as quiet, as his hands dropped away from your body.Â
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.Â
âShawn, wait!âÂ
You werenât 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.Â
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 werenât 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.Â
âDonât forget about me when youâre out partying with all those models okay?â your chest felt like it had just been shoved down into your stomach.Â
Thatâs not what you wanted to say and definitely wasnât 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. âForget you? Never.âÂ
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.Â
I love you too.Â
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. âI picked up the pasta. Itâs in the fridge! Call you when I land :)â
Another thought formed in your head.Â
Shawn Mendes, Iâm in love with you and I should have told you when I had the chance.
next part
#shawn mendes#shawn mendes imagine#shawn mendes imagines#shawn mendes fanfiction#shawn mendes fanfic#my writing#shawn peter raul mendes#shawn mendes angst
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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.Â
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 feelÂ
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 donât 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.Â
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 donât 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.Â
Things about Gen Z
https://www.livingfacts.org/en/articles/2020/meet-gen-zÂ
https://danschawbel.com/blog/39-of-the-most-interesting-facts-about-generation-z/Â
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 generationâs views follow Millennialsâ 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 Zâs as consumersÂ
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 Zâs 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 manâs 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 âa lot of moneyâ is a sign of success. [Deep Focus]
What are some general Gen Z issues/behaviours/values:Â
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 generationsÂ
Speaking up/inner voice
Stress response
Optimistic attitude âit is what it isâ
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 /Â
(cultural diversity)
Culture / tradition / ethnicity / foundation /Â
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/Â
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 âpauseâ 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 â on the whole â 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.Â
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.Â
showing your own alignment with the purpose and intent of a brand. Gen Z see the brands who they follow, âlikeâ, 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 thatâs 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/ âConsumption for this generation is an expression of individual identity.â
âSome people are angry and resentful because they feel like their voice isnât heard, so clothing is a space where they can be self-governed.â
Theyâre experiencing brands in every corner of their online life and so these same âbrands need to beware this generationâs discernment because they have a bloodhound-like nose for inauthenticity.â
Weâve 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-generationÂ
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.
âI feel like Gen Z and millennials occupy a really interesting place in politics,â says Nogia, 20 â- weâve only known austerity, weâve only know casual work, weâve only know life long sentences of debt for getting an education and weâre living in an age of populism and hatred in politics.â
So, is this having a detrimental effect on a generationâs mental health and personal confidence? Pretty much.
Youth Engagement Officer at YoungMinds, âYoung 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.â
Social media is - predictably - a major cause of generational anxiety. Not only is it connecting us to the worldâs 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/1705491Â
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.
âConsumers don't want to see brands making an effort to be inclusive just for means of publicity,â said Jenna Stearns, researcher at quantilope and lead on the report. âThey want to see something that's authentic and consistent.â
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.Â
âThese 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,â 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-expressionÂ
Los Angeles â Health-Ade Kombuchaâs latest campaign targets a new generation of health-conscious drinkers.
The campaign, You Brew You, introduces the brandâs 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:Â https://fredandfar.com/blogs/ff-blog/banksy-made-me-do-it-transforming-everyday-ads-into-self-love-campaignsÂ
This stunt can have multiple meanings, as Banksy often uses his art to comment on such structures as capitalism, power imbalances, and corruption.Â
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 Banksyâs take on copyright laws and advertising.
Banksy urges, âany 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.â
So letâs 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. Letâs saturate the world with our mission.
Cultural Diversity Campaign Example: https://www.refuelagency.com/blog/examples-of-brands-who-got-multicultural-marketing-right/Â
Rihannaâs 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. ChaĂŠdria LaBouvier wrote in Allure that Fenty Beautyâs sheer number of foundation colors is âa statement that women of color deserve complex optionsâ.Â
Rihanna shared that, âItâs important to me that every woman feel included in this brand.â Once this campaign launched, it had a ripple effect called âThe Fenty Effectâ, a movement calling for brands to challenge the status quo in advertising.
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Skies on Fire
Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Evan âBuckâ Buckley/Eddie Diaz Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2905 Alternate: AO3 Summary: "'Okay, Mister âI donât like the 4th of July.â Whatâs your opinion on fireworks?' Chim asks.
Eddie shrugs and scrunches up his nose in that way Buck finds adorable. 'Theyâre loud.'"
It's the 4th of July and Eddie hates fireworks. Warnings:Â
PTSD
Mild Hurt/Comfort
Eddie Diaz has PTSD
Author's Note: I canât 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 Abuelaâs 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 heâll 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. Itâs going to be a long 24-hour shift but Buck isnât going to let that ruin his mood. Bobby had promised to cook for everyone again and heâs honestly looking forward to it. Plus, if theyâre lucky, theyâll be out on a call, outside, when the fireworks start. Of course, Buck doesnât want a life-threatening call to happen just so he can watch the fireworks, but if thereâs a scared cat stuck up in a tree then heâll 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. âWhoâs ready for the 4th of July rush?â Buck asks enthusiastically, giving a quick glance towards Eddie who is currently shirtless.
Eddie gives him a wary, curious look. âWhat do you mean?â
âPeople are dumb on the 4th of July,â Hen answers for Buck as Buck forces himself to look away from Eddie and opens his locker to start changing. âThereâs 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.â
Eddieâs head tilts at that last statement, blinking in confusion. âTheir pants?â
Hen shakes her head. âYou donât want to know.â
Buck chuckles, shucking off his pants and pulling on his uniform bottoms. âI love the 4th of July.â
âMore like you love Capâs cooking,â Chimney states from behind him, shutting his locker a little too loudly.
âI do,â Buck agrees, pulling his shirt off and turning to Chimney. âBut I also love everything else to do with the 4th of July.â
âHere we go,â Hen mumbles.
Buck turns to her, smile in place. âCome on Hen, you have to agree that fireworks are awesome.â
Hen gives him a small smile. âOkay, the 4th of July isnât that bad but I just hate how stupid people get during it.â
âWell, Iâm with Buck,â Chimney says. âI love the 4th of July. Itâs one of the few days you actually have a valid excuse to get absolutely drunk off your ass.â
Buck turns to Eddie. âEddie?â
Eddie looks up from where he was studying his button up to his uniform. âHmm?â
Buck smiles at him. âDo you like the 4th of July?â
âI hate it.â
All of them look at Eddie with surprise. Buckâs eyes go wide in shock. âWhat! No, Eddie, no one can hate the 4th of July!â
âIâm pretty sure other countries hate it, Buck,â Hen comments.
âOkay, if youâre an American, you canât hate it,â he amends. âYouâre, like, obligated to like it.â
Eddie watches Buck as he slides on his button up. âSorry, Buck, but I just donât like the 4th of July.â
âBut why?â he asks but Eddie just shrugs. âOkay, what about fireworks? Everyone loves fireworks. Hen?â
Hen finishes tying her boots and stands. âTheyâre pretty, I guess.â
âCome on, Hen!â Buck pouts at her. âI love fireworks! Theyâre amazing, you know! With all the colors and how big they can get.â
âThey do have a certain appeal to them,â Chim mentions with a small laugh before turning towards Eddie who is staring absently into his locker. âOkay, Mister âI donât like the 4th of July,â whatâs your opinion on fireworks?â Chim asks.
Eddie shrugs and scrunches up his nose in that way Buck finds adorable. âTheyâre loud.â He quickly looks at all of them before turning back to his locker to dig around in it.
Buckâs heart drops as realization starts setting in while Hen huffs a laugh, heading towards the door. âYeah, and they scare animals all over.â 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. âHere.â
Eddie looks down at them, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. His eyes lift to Buck. âHowâd you know?â
Buck shrugs. âGood guess.â Eddie gives him a thankful smile and takes the earplugs, fiddling with the package.
Eddie gestures towards his locker, not meeting Buckâs eyes. âI thought I had brought some but I guess I forgot. Why do you have some?â
Buck smiles at him reassuringly. âI wear them when I try to get some sleep here. I can still hear the bell if it goes off but not everything else.â Eddie nods at his explanation and Buck wishes he could make this easier on Eddie. Heâs obviously feeling a little embarrassed. âWhat did you do last year?â Buck tries, hoping he wonât be shot down this time.
Eddie sighs heavily and shuts his locker, shoving the earplugs into his pocket for later. âI closed all the windows in the house, turned on the TV full volume, and blasted music in my ears.â
âDid it work?â Eddie just shrugs. âAre you going to be okay? Iâm sure Bobby wouldnât care if you went home.â
Eddie shakes his head, walking past Buck. âI canât let this dictate my life, Buck. You guys need me today so Iâm going to be here.â
âBut Eddie-â
âNo, Buck,â Eddie stops him. âIâll be fine.â He walks away then, clearly ending the conversation there.
*~~~*
As Hen had predicted, itâs 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 canât 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 wonât help in the slightest.
Buck nudges Eddieâs shoulders, getting his attention. âHey, you might want to put the earplugs in now. The fireworks are going to be starting soon.â
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. âThey must have fallen out at some point.â
Buck is frowning now as well, full of concern. âYou going to be okay?â
Eddie nods curtly. âYeah, Iâll be fine.â
Buck can feel Bobbyâs eyes on them from the front, the older man glancing over his shoulder. Neither he nor Eddie acknowledges Bobbyâs look. Buck figures Bobby has probably figured out the problem already anyway.
It doesnât 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 everyoneâs 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, itâs 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 heâs okay and another firework soars in the night sky and explodes in a beautiful hue of blue.
Buck ignores Bobbyâs 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. Heâs 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.
âEddie?â he begins gently. âEddie, itâs Buck. Can you hear me?â
Eddie doesnât give Buck an answer, doesnât even look up at him, but Buck can hear Eddieâs heavy breathing and quiet sobs. Bobby places a hand on Buckâs shoulder, getting his attention. âI need to get back. You got this?â Buck nods. âWhen heâs back, bring him home. You two can end your shift early.â
âAre you sure?â Buck asks.
Bobby nods towards Eddie. âTake care of him.â He then gets up and leaves, giving Eddie one last concerned look. Buck knows that if Bobby could, he would stay too, but he canât. Not on one of their busiest days.
Buck watches Bobby leave before turning his attention back to Eddie. âEddie? Can I touch you?â Still, he gets no answer. âIâm going to touch your knee, okay?â
More fireworks are shooting up in the sky, getting closer to the grand finale. He knows they arenât 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 Eddieâs knee. Eddie doesnât react to it, doesnât look up at Buck but also doesnât 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. âEds, youâre out on a call. Youâre in someoneâs backyard, near the pool. What you are hearing are fireworks. They are not bombs, youâre no longer in Afganistan, youâre safe.â
The finale to the fireworks starts up and Eddie curls into himself more, pulling away from Buckâs hand. Buck doesnât try to touch him again, waits the finale out, and then tries again when everything settles.
âEddie, itâs still Buck. Can you hear me?â A small nod. âOkay, listen to my voice. Again, you are not in Afganistan anymore. Youâre in L.A. and those were fireworks, not bombs. Youâre safe. Iâm here. Youâre not in danger.â Eddie lifts his head some but doesnât look at Buck. His eyes are far away, not really focusing on anything. âCan I touch you again?â Another small nod. Buck crawls a little closer, places a hand on Eddieâs shoulder.
âCan you feel the ground?â Eddie nods. âCan you feel my hand?â Again, a nod. âOkay, what do you see? What do you see around you, where youâre safe?â
It takes Eddie a few tries and Buck repeating the question again before he can answer him. âYou.â
âWhat else?â
Eddie swallows and lifts a shaky hand to wipe the tears away. Heâs still not very focused, blinking rapidly. âYou.â
âOkay,â Buck says, moving on. âWhat can you hear. Can you hear me?â
âYes.â
âWhat else can you hear? What else can you hear in this backyard where youâre safe? Where youâre safe with me? Youâre safe.â
Eddieâs eyes flutter shut and his face scrunches in agony. âOpen your eyes,â Buck tells him and he does. âCan I hug you?â Eddie nods and Buck maneuvers himself so heâs 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. âNow what can you hear besides my voice?â
Eddie is still shaking but his muscles relax. Still he doesnât answer Buck, staring off into the distance. âEddie?â Eddie snaps back.
âThe pool. I can hear theâŚâ a long pause as Eddie blinks. âThe pool.â
âOkay, good. Can you hear the water in the pool?â
âYeah.â
âCan you still hear me?â
âYeah.â
âWhat can you smell?â Buck asks, moving onto the next sense. âWhat do you smell around you, here and now?â He carefully rubs a hand up and down Eddieâs bicep, gauging Eddieâs reaction. He doesnât reject the movement so Buck continues doing it.
âI can smellâŚâ 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.Â
âEddie, what do you smell?â he asks again.
Eddie blinks, doesnât answer, and Buck asks for the third time. âI smell your cologne or⌠or deodorant.â He sinks into Buck, blinking slowly. âI smell⌠I can smell the pool. Freshly cut grass.â
âGood, now I want you to describe to me, if you could choose any place, where would you want to be at this very moment?â Buck chuckles. âIt doesnât even have to be attainable.â
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. âAt home with Christopher and you.â
âYeah?â Buck smiles. âWhat would we be doing?â
Eddie does dissociate again, staying quiet for several minutes before Buck can get him back and ask the question once more. âWatching a movie.â
âWhat movie?â
âI donât know.â
âDescribe to me the scene youâre thinking.â
Eddieâs 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. âChristopher would be sitting on the floor in a heap of blankets. You and I would be on the couch, sitting close.â
âLike this?â
Eddie nods. âYeah. One of us would be holding the other andâŚâ he trails off.
Buck runs a hand through Eddieâs hair, deciding to end it there. âCan you stand?â
Eddie swallows and nods. They both stand up, Eddie swaying in his spot. Buck can tell heâs 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 Eddieâs place and Buck immediately transports Eddie to his bed, helping him to undress and lie down in it. âYouâre home now, Eddie. Do you know where you are?â
âHome,â he answers. âIâm home.â Heâs coming back now, getting more alert. Still, he looks exhausted with his eyes droopy and slow movements. âThank you for helping me, Buck.â
Buck sits down on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through Eddieâs hair. âIâve got your back, Eddie.â He shrugs. âAnd next year, weâll be more prepared. No more losing the earplugs.â
Eddie chuckles at that, eyes sparkling with amusement. âDeal.â
They stare at each other for a long time before Buck finally asks, âDo you want to talk about it?â
Eddie shakes his head. âNo.â Buck nods, accepting that answer. âBut I would like it if you stayed.â
âYeah, of course, Iâll stay.â
âNo, I mean in the bed.â
âWith you?â Buck asks.
âI feel safer with you.â Eddie is avoiding eye contact but the statement makes Buck smile nonetheless.
âIâll stay, then.â
Eddie smiles, small and soft, eyes closing slowly. âThank you.â
Buck leans down and presses a kiss to Eddieâs temple. âAlways.â
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
A/N:Â 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 canât 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!
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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 (Taylorâs 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 Taylorâs Version.
I was 11 when the original album was released. I didnât 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. Thatâs 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 (Taylorâs 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 â Breathe, The Way I Loved You, Youâre Not Sorry, Untouchable â but with the addition of the brilliant From The Vault tracks. Donât You is my favourite.
Fearless â 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. Taylorâs 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 itâs more palpable here.
Fifteen â To me, Taylorâs Version of Fifteen sounds so similar to the original. Itâs 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 âin your life youâll do things greater than dating the boy on the football teamâ actually gave me chills.
Love Story â When she released her new version of Love Story, the changes in her vocal were almost indiscernible if I hadnât 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 â The vocal quality on Hey Stephen (Taylorâs 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 doesnât 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 â 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 itâs 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 â YBWM is another song that sounds so similar to the original that if I wasnât so familiar with the song, I wouldnât be able to describe the differences. Itâs also one weâve 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 thatâs somehow both there and not.
Breathe â 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 â 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 itâs probably one of the best replications on Taylorâs Version. It sounds the exact same as it did 13 years ago. Thatâs not to say her vocal hasnât 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.
Youâre Not Sorry â Taylorâs 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. Youâre Not Sorry is probably the song I feel sounds the most different. This might just be because itâs one of my favourite songs that I can so easily pick it apart. Regardless, it is beautifully sung.
The Way I Loved You â 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 Taylorâs Version. The production is also cleaner on this version. The instruments are more distinct. Itâs subtle improvements that really take it up a notch, while remaining the same song I fell in love with.
Forever & Always â The new production on this song makes it soooo much better than the original. I wonât lie, Forever & Always has never really stood out to me that much. Taylorâs 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 â 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 âGod smiles on my little brotherâ. There is so much warmth throughout.
Change â Tell me itâs not iconic that she used the lyric âit was the night things changedâ to announce that Fearless (Taylorâs Version) had dropped when she wrote Change about being on an independent label. Power move!
Jump Then Fall â 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. Thatâs Jump Then Fall (Taylorâs Version) for me. I would say this is the biggest grower from 2009. I canât quite discern what it is about Taylorâs 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 â I think any song in which Taylor has any high notes sounds better on Taylorâs 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) â Taylor emotes differently on this version to the original, which I think sounds sadder. Perhaps this is due to the fact that sheâs 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 â The instrumentation on CIWTR (Taylorâs Version) is so crystal clear. That is a testament to new production. Taylorâs vocal projection is also much stronger. It makes the song feel grander than it did before.
Superstar â 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 weâre all living in. I have always been very fond of this song.
The Other Side Of The Door â When I tell you all I wanted from Taylorâs 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 â I was surprised to see this on the tracklist for Fearless (Taylorâs 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 isnât straining as much.
You All Over Me â 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. Marenâs backing vocal sounds great on it. Also the lyric âno amount of freedom gets you cleanâ??? Need I say more?
Mr. Perfectly Fine â Itâs the teen angst for me in this track. I love how petty this song is, truly. Itâs 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 â I was so excited when I figured out the words âweâ, âwereâ and âhappyâ from that chaotic video Taylor posted. I have loved this song for actual years. Itâs the exact sound for which I fell in love with Taylorâs 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 couldâve just as easily fit onto evermore.
Thatâs When â 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 Taylorâs so well. Thatâs When is very catchy.
Donât You â I canât decide what my favourite aspect of this song is. The songwriting, the vocals, the layering, the production. This is just *chefâs kiss*. I love how I can hear Jack Antonoff in the production, especially in those drums. I would say itâs the most pop-leaning song on Fearless (Taylorâs Version), but it doesnât feel out of place. Donât You encompasses all of my favourite aspects of Taylorâs music.
Bye Bye Baby â The original demo âThe One Thingâ 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.
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One: get close to you
Love on the Brain - Masterlist in links
Pairing: MobBoss!Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Youâre 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 Iâm way too excited to not start already. Iâm so excited to hear what your thoughts are!
Betaâd by @golddaggers and @tranquilâheart!
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 â 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 donât care. Youâre 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 heâs in.
Itâs now or never. This is a make or break â do or die. Literally. Youâve never been this afraid in your life, but at the same time youâve 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 youâre intimidated. Youâre 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. âYes! Iâm coming!â
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 youâre ready to go.
âWhat took you so long? The taxiâs already running. Youâre gonna make us poorâ, 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 canât stop talking to you in the taxi. About how she loves your outfit. âTrashy but trendyâ, is what she calls it. You know that she means it in a good way, but âtrashyâ isnât the word you should use. You donât 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 âHULK!â. Itâs a club that youâve never been to, but Wandaâs crush was there tonight, so she begged you to come with her.  Â
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 Wandaâs 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 âpopâ if anyone would ask you. A few security guards are watching the dancefloor carefully, but youâre 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 sheâs searching the crowd for her crush.
âAnd?â, you ask her, not really stopping your dance moves.
âNo, I canât- Wait. Oh no. Oh my godâ, she starts. You chuckle and look in the same direction as hers. Even though itâs pretty dark, you can see the blush on her cheeks. Itâs adorable, really.
âOh! Sheâs watching! Fuck-â
âCome on, Wan! Whereâs the confident woman I know?â, you say with a light smile on your face. âIf she doesnât like you, sheâs the stupid one.â
âCan you dance with me, babe? Please?â She looks at you with pleading eyes. You grab her hand, trying to calm her down and stand a little closer to her.Â
âOf course. Come, letâs see what those hips can doâ, you encourage. You normally donât have to give Wanda a pep talk, so this was surprising behaviour for her. Normally, sheâd be confident, telling you that âshe got thisâ and âsheâs going to wrap them around their fingerâ.Â
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 sheâs doing than a minute ago.
âGo talk to herâ, you try after another song took over.
âBut why? What do I talk aboutâ, she asks.
âFuck, Wan. Donât be a pussy. What the hell is so special about her?â, you ask, a little annoyed now at how she lost all her confidence once again.
âYou donât know her. Sheâs so intimidating and powerful. Fuck, I like herâ, 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 âyou got thisâ.Â
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.Â
Thereâs a perfect spot for you though, right in the middle, between a couple thatâs making out and two girls that are drunkily chatting.Â
The bartender is busy, though, so you look around. Itâs a little awkward how youâre standing next to that couple, but you try and ignore it. You watch to your left, where itâs a little bit more empty than at yours, but you donât care. Youâve got your spot, now youâre 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 canât look at him any longer. Heâs intriguing, but so incredibly handsome.Â
âA white wine pleaseâ, you say. The tender nods and works on your drink. Again you eyed to your left. He didnât move, in fact, he still looked at you.Â
A little smirk and a small short nod towards you. Out of nervousness, you put a strand of hair behind your ear, but youâre bold enough to flash him a flirty smile back.Â
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.Â
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.Â
When you search for the guy again, heâs 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.
âAm I too late to pay for that wine?â, he asks. Voice is low, bringing chills all over your body. Please donât stop talking. Ever.
âFor this round, you areâ, you chuckle suggestively.Â
âSteveâ, 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 clichĂŠ joke. You follow up with a clichĂŠ 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?
âNever seen you here beforeâ, he states as he checks you out. You do the same and spot a little tattoo on his chest, some kind of quote.Â
âFirst time here, decided to mix it up a bit. Old clubs tend to get boringâ, 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 thatâs chiming through the room right now. The red lights makes it seem like some cheap strip club.Â
Thereâs this shady vibe, though. You canât quite put your finger on it, but you can feel some kind of tension. A few women give you arrogant glances, but you donât really pay attention to that.Â
âSteve.â Thereâs 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.
âI told you to not disturb me tonight.â He doesnât even look at the guy while saying it. Instead, he still looks at you, moving closer and biting his bottom lip.
âSteveâ, the guy says again. âItâs fucking important, man.â You look at him. He has trimmed black hair, huge biceps. A man you donât want to mess with.Â
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?Â
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 Steveâs answer and leaves right after, not even looking at you once this entire time. It makes you hold back another eye roll.Â
âOh and Samâ, Steve calls after him. The guy turns around. âI donât want to see your face again tonight.â
Just when you wanted to ask why he was here, you forgot to ask when he gave you that same smirk again. Youâre not sure how he did it, but he made you feel hot without even saying anything.
âAnother drink?â He points to your glass, but eyes are never leaving yours. You nod and ask for another wine.
âWine? Sure you donât want a cocktail or something?â, he asks.Â
âLet me guess, you thought I was that kind of girlâ, you tease. He leans with his elbows on the bar, his eyes still full of mischief while watching you.
âNahâ, he shakes his head. âBut most women like to test a guy like me and ask for the most expensive drink on the list.â
âAnd what exactly is a guy like you?â, you bounce back. He smirks, but doesnât 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 youâre flirting with a very handsome guy. You raise your glass at her, giving her a small wink before turning your attention back at Steve.
âThat your friend?â, 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.
âWhat?â, you ask, more automatically than curiously. You tend to do that when youâre nervous.
ââM trying to get a grasp of youâ, he answers.
âThat makes two of us.â You let your eyes wonder of the rest of his body. Broad shoulders, a black blouse thatâs a little tight, but you donât mind. Another tattoo on his wrist, some kind of arrow.
Something about this guy screams trouble, though. You shouldnât get involved in whatever he is. But the mystery intrigues you. It makes you curious to find him out. Even if itâs 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.
âAre you going to give me a good time tonight, princess?â His hot breath rakes down your neck, nose lightly brushing your ear. The way he said âprincessâ 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 didnât reel you in the moment you two locked eyes.
âI think 'goodâ is an understatementâ, you dare to say. His hand tightens at that, pushing you closer to him. Chest flush to him. Heâs 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. Heâs not entirely sure of whatâs causing it. Heâs not used to this. A woman that doesnât bow to him whenever he asks her to.
âWhy donât you prove it.â His face dangerously close to yours. Youâre sure that the tension can be felt on the other side of the room as well.
âHappy toâ, you say, ripping yourself away from him, leaving him confused. Heâs now empty handed. You look at him seductively.
âAre you coming or what?â
________________________________
Taglist: (Open)
@mcueverydayâ @mschellehittâ @cametobuyplumsâ @stuck-y-togetherâ @thamuddagirlâ @idiotwithabowandarrowâ @buckysthotâ @what-if-i-am-weirdâ @mariia-the-ninjaâ @myspectacularfantasiesâ @ornella0910â
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x you#steve x reader#captain america x reader#captain america#mcu#avengers#avengers x reader#marvel fanfiction#avengers fanfiction#love on the brain series
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Behind The Marriage - Harry Styles Series - Epilogue
20 Years LaterÂ
**
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.Â
âIs it good?â You smiled.Â
âPewect! Mumma,â he smiled.Â
âOkay, letâs go backstage and get some shots of everyone,â you said.Â
He quickly darted towards the backstage area as you gathered your things to head back there yourself. Even after all these years, it still didnât 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.Â
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.Â
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 Harryâs 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 wouldnât change a thing.Â
âThere you are,â Harry smiled walking over to you, kissing your cheek. âMax said everythingâs ready to go for the show tonight.âÂ
âYep, got all my settings in check, although I may have to make some adjustments here and there once there are actually people in venue,â you said.Â
He nodded, âRosie, Stevie, grab some food for dinner,â he said. âFinneas and Amelia will be out soon.âÂ
Stevie groaned, âIâm tired of eating from catering.âÂ
âWelcome to tour life,â Harry joked. âBesides you should be used to it.âÂ
âThatâs the point,â she mumbled.Â
âSheâs just mad because she canât go out with her friends tonight,â Rosie rolled her eyes.Â
âShut up,â Stevie snapped. âNobody asked for your opinion.âÂ
âWell, I gave it,â Rosie shrugged getting off the couch and heading towards the catering table.Â
âGirls, stop it,â You sighed. âBe nice to each other, please.âÂ
âI just donât get why I couldnât go out with my friends,â she sighed. âI mean, donât get me wrong, Daddy, I love your show, but so what if I miss one show. Thereâs like a hundred more on this tour.âÂ
âYes, I know, love,â Harry said taking a bite of his food. âBut tonight is your mother and Iâs wedding anniversary, which means itâs special.âÂ
âThen why did you schedule a show? Shouldnât you be taking Mum out for a nice dinner or something?â She asked.Â
âYour Mum deserves more than a nice dinner, which is why Iâve got something else planned and part of that is having all of our children here,â he said.Â
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.Â
âHow have we survived all these years on the road with these children?â You joked.Â
âI ask myself that every day,â he laughed.Â
**
You all took your places in the crowd, while Harry stood side stage before Finneas and Ameliaâs 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 couldnât be prouder of them, but you also knew you wouldnât be able to be at every show, which broke your heart a little bit.Â
But at least they had each other.Â
âHowâs everyone doing tonight?â Finn asked the crowd. âI hope everyone enjoyed that first song.âÂ
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.Â
You giggled when you saw Max dancing around in Stevieâs arms as they all sang along to their siblingâs 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.Â
âOkay, so, this next song will be our last one of the night,â Eila smiled sitting down at the piano. âItâs one our of favorites. If you know the words, please sing along, and if you donât, just enjoy it anyway. We love you MSG and we canât wait to be back next year on our very own tour.âÂ
You smiled widely as you put your camera down and watched them perform their last song of the night.Â
**
By the time, it was Harryâs 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 Stylesâ kids were their fatherâs biggest fans ever since they were little.Â
Towards the end of the show, you noticed Harry was doing something a little different, which caught you off guard a little bit.Â
âSo, this next song, is actually not my song,â he laughed. âUm, itâs been ages since Iâve performed a cover on my tour, but tonight is a special night. For one, Iâm here with all of you beautiful and wonderful people, but for the biggest part, itâs 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 donât just dive into. Well, we did and here we are with five amazing, talented, smart, beautiful, children twenty years later. I wonât lie and say we didnât 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 canât 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,â he smiled looking right at you.Â
Tears were already in your eyes as you stood in the crowd surrounded by your and Harryâs 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.Â
âLooks like we made it, look how weâve come, my baby. We mighta took the long, we knew weâd get there someday,â he sang. âThey said, âI bet theyâll never make it.â but just look at us holding on. Weâre still together, still going strong.âÂ
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 Harryâs live with the kids were added and by then you were a blubbering mess.Â
Max wrapped his arms around your legs, while Stevie placed her head on your shoulders. Rosie held both Finneas and Ameliaâs 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.Â
**
At the end of the show, Max was already asleep in Finnâs arms as the two older Stylesâ 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.Â
âI love you so fucking much,â you smiled.Â
He smiled, âI love you, too, baby,â he whispered. âI take it you liked it?âÂ
âI loved it,â you smiled. âBut you could have given me a warning! I would have worn waterproof mascara.âÂ
âWell, then it wouldnât have been a surprise,â he laughed.Â
âTrue,â you smiled.Â
âWhere are the kids?â He asked.Â
âMax fell asleep, so they all headed back to the hotel,â you said.Â
âSo, then I guess weâve got the rest of the night to ourselves?â He smirked.Â
âThat we do,â you smiled. âWhat else to you have up your sleeves, Styles?âÂ
âYouâll just have to wait and see, Styles,â he smirked.Â
âHappy anniversary,â you smiled.Â
âHappy anniversary,â he smiled. âAnd to many more,â he whispered pressing his lips to yours.Â
**
And thatâs officially a wrap! I hate to see this series end, but itâs time. I hope you all enjoyed it and are satisfied with this ending. Let me know your thoughts!
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Miraculous ladybug for the ask game?
Thanks for playing! There may be more here than for Good Omens, but Iâm not THAT deep in this one either, so no promises. xDâ
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 donât really have any, I think?
Favourite friendships: Alya and Marinette, Adrien and Nino
Favourite family:mmmh itâs not like we know a whole lot of families and recently I have been thinking a lot about the fact that Marinetteâs parents never question that they canât get a hold of Marinette and canât be there to directly protect her when Paris is under attack. Like. Sheâs a fifteen year old girl, you bet your ass Iâll hunt down my only child and try to be with her during these attacks, or at the very least made damn sure sheâs somewhere safe... So... I have started doubting her parents based on that... Theyâre still a billion times better than Adrienâs fucked up family (even more so now that we met his aunt and cousin :Dâ), 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 itâs about Adrien. Itâs... so exhausting and it was already exhausting in season 1, but the longer this drags on, it becomes cringey as fuck? Itâs due time both Marinette and Chat grow the fuck up and start respecting the other personâs 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: itâs 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: itâs a cartoon, so not really actors. And I am so not into tracking or remembering voice actors, so... canât answer that
Character you wish was still alive: Again, no one has died xDâ
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 Adrienâs mom is being kept in the basement. Like. I always knew Hawkmoth was Adrienâs dad and I suspected he wanted to rewrite reality around Adrienâs 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 arenât 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 âbut oh no! Now BOTH Marinette AND Adrien have ADDITIONAL potential love interestsâ, this has become some knotted-up nonsense thatâs 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 Iâd 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: Chatâs
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 :Dâ (seriously, that bitch Hawkmoth gets to akumatize everyone over the smallest feelings of upset...)
Most boring plotline: itâs... itâs not like the show has a whole lot of plotlines... unless you really count every single episodeâs akumatized personâs plotline... then honestly I think I wouldnât 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 itâs 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? :Dâ)
Best flashback/flashfoward if any: Hasnât really done a lot of flashbacks yet and Iâm not big on the ones we got. Does Cat Blanc count as a flashforward, because it was also an alternate timeline? Though... I wasnât really a fan of that either... mmmh...
Most layered character: Theyâre all not overly layered, in my personal opinion?
Most one dimensional character: I mean the majority of the characters. Like, most of Marinetteâs classmates have like one personality trait assigned to them and thatâs it? Thereâs 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 youâre crushing on (if any): None
Favourite cast moment: I donât follow those things, even less so with voice acting xDâ
Favourite transportation: ...they... uh... had a train that went into space...? xDâ
Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): itâs 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 Adrienâs mom
Best promo: I donât pay attention to these things ^^°
At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: I honestly canât tell. I mean, I have come to love it, definitely, but I donât really have one defining moment that I can say âthis was it!â
IN DEPTH FANDOM QUESTIONS
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2019 Best Japanese OST Press/Repress:Â Elfen Lied by Tiger Lab Records
Like many late millennials with artistic pretensions, I used to have an âAnituberâ channel back in the wild west days of youtube. From 2010-2013 â roughly corresponding with my first three years in university â I reviewed DVD releases from ADV, Manga Entertainment, Central Park Media, and Geneon â all the big players in Western anime releases at the time, all dead and gone now with the rise of streaming. Everyone but Funimation â 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 Iâve long since deleted that channel. While there was definitely a âmomentâ 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. Iâve long since cooled on âsubstantiveâ media critique anyway. The world doesnât need another Eisenstein-aligned Marxist analysis of Neon Genesis Evangelion â 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 â 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 donât find myself particularly nostalgic for any of the content on that channel, Iâm 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! â 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 â 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 â especially on CD â 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 âcollectorâ nature of many Otaku. This has usually not been the case with Elfen Lied.
A friend of mine in Kanagawa quipped âSometimes it sounds better on the DVDâ 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 Iâve always trusted the manâs opinion â as heâs invested a small family fortune into building a shrine of sorts to that studioâs output. He chalks up the poor release quality to the studioâs inability or lack of funds to master the content properly for a CD or HQ digital release, and VAPâs decline in release quality during the early 2000s roughly corresponding to a sale to another Zaibatsu. âStudio Arms made hentai for many years to stay solvent, maybe they could not send a good master to VAP [the publisher]â he told me. While I canât know if itâs VAP, Arms or another studio handling the CD-master work, a cursory check of their oeuvre seems to confirm confirms that claim of his â but I acknowledge Iâm wandering into uncharted waters here.
In spite of all that â 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 â the SA/VAP published CD from 2004 and Tiger Labâs release. Once we finish going into the core differences â and why this vinyl is absolutely worth your purchase over competing physicals â Iâll 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 â the OP, Lilium. In the spirit of defying expectations, Iâll 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 â requiring an intensive, sufficiently wide mix and refined master. You donât get that on every OST album â 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 itâs used brilliantly in the series â for those familiar, I only need to quote one line: âM-m-mommyâŚ?â.
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 â 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 Iâm 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 Westernerâs preference for warmth. Tiger Lab deserves credit for this approach, because it genuinely feels like a more authentically âJapaneseâ 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. Itâs 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 Iâve got to say thatâs thereâs something in the way they treat this particular profile of song â strongly vocal dominated, extremely muted piano, and supporting string inhabiting the negative space â absolutely incredibly. It put the KEFs to shame. Iâve always asserted that youâve got to pair certain songs with certain speaker pairs. Iâve never been a huge devotional music guy, and Iâm 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 Koutaâs 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 heâs 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 â but I like Tiger Labâs 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 Iâve bought that at least feels thematically consistent with the release and not just a default âvaporwaveâ or âcity popâ or âfuture funkâ styling. Diclonii rock the pink hair, after all. That all said, Iâm wishing now that I got the âmetallic goldâ 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 Iâve felt in-hand, and manages to feel robust. Iâve yet to find specific info, but it certainly feels like a 180g.
In conclusion, Iâve 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.
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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 donât know what Iâm doing, what I want, or if I want anything. Knowing what I donât want is much easier to define, itâs easy to find flaws in people, especially if youâre 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.
Iâm not a morning person, so waking up to sixteen messages saying, âGood morning beautifulâ 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 Booneâs Farm. My gut reaction was indignance, âLIARS! How dare you call me beautiful! You donât know me.â I have strong opinions on beauty and number one is that it isnât determined by flattering images on some app. Itâs understanding who I am as a person and how I became the woman I am today. Itâs depth of character and a strong understanding of self, and it implies a certain level of intimacy because Iâve 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 hadnât even been on a date. âStick with it.â My friends said. âIt just takes time and patienceâ they said. âMaybe you shouldnât be so pickyâ they said. âYou have to kiss a lot of frogsâ they said. I think they just wanted to hear my stories and validate their own relationships, sighing just a little as they thought, âThank God itâs you out there and not me.â I bucked up and kept trying until I got a date.
My first and only match ended up being with a guy who didnât tell me how beautiful I was before we met, but our date was still a disaster. Iâll spare the details of our meeting but as a result one of my friends suggested that dating sites should have some way to âRate Your Dateâ 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 itâs 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 didnât 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, Iâd much rather be single. Peace out guys, I deleted my account.
Like Netflix and popcorn seasoned with crack, I couldnât 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 didnât 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. Iâm looking for someone similar. I love a good IPA and small batch gin. INFJ Vegan. No hook ups please. Trump supporters swipe left.Â
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 youâre 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 itâs appropriate to call me baby, honey, sweetie, sweetheart or any other cutesy name after one date, swipe left. If you donât 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 youâre homophobic, swipe left. If you donât believe in tipping at least 20% or you treat service staff poorly, swipe left. If you are needy and canât give me my cherished space and solitude, swipe left. Not a football fan? Swipe left. Ohio State fan? Swipe left. If you donât know the basics of ordering a cocktail or appetizer at a restaurant, swipe left. If you donât return your grocery cart to its proper place, swipe left. If you donât have Amazon Prime, swipe left. If you donât know what an IPA is, swipe left. If you donât know what vegan means, Google it or swipe left. If you canât 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 werenât 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 Iâm talking to havenât been married, they donât have children. So, instead I say, âOh! You like dogs and IPAs and put mustard on your fries? We have so much in common!â I guess thatâs what happens when you date in your childrenâs age group. But, having a deep conversation with someone my own age is just asking for emotional exposure, Iâd have to answer the same questions. Iâm not willing to give depth and meaning so why should I expect it? Ghosting is so much easier. I tell myself Iâm not being unreasonable; I just want to find a like minded man to hang out with. What Iâve 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 Iâm doing with a guy younger than my daughter. I have yet to come up with a right answer. If Iâm being honest, I think itâs 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. Theyâre safe, even if they are more prone to send a dicpic or request a naked picture than their older counterparts, I can pretend Iâm closer in age to a college grad than a retiree. Finding the right guy is going to take a lot of effort. Iâve 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 Iâm on the downside of life, a reminder of my mortality. Iâm not ready for that, if you are, swipe left.
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