#like before she talks about paying for her own tour or studio time or anything else. first instinct was bonuses!!! not just pay. bonus

[ilostyou]

it’s so very taylor that The first thing she mentions about getting this huge lump sum of money is that she was excited to be able to give her band bonuses

[fruitmins]

FRI(END)S | taehyung

➭ summary: in which Taehyung has some big shoes to fill after his hyungs went to the military. The stress of it all and utter loneliness causes him to make some grave mistakes. Like paying a girl to be his friend. But after months, he starts to feel something more. He doesn’t know if he’s just over pretending because she’s obviously just doing her job.. or if something more is there. And after a rough night, he finds out.

➭genre: short oneshot, slowburn-ish, angst, friends au

➭warnings: unedited properly, talk about depression, a couple bad words, he can kinda be seen as creepy but he’s just awkward i swear

➭note: i actually like this. chat i like writing, i wish i could do it more. Agust Dad is in the works tho..

Taehyung knew the members entering the military would affect him.

Sure they had moved out of the dorm and stopped living together ages ago, but he was saddened to see his hyungs go after being in contact for almost decades. They had watched him grow up and helped him through the complications of being an idol.

And now that he was making music and doing it all on his own? He felt the effects of their absence hardened.

He tried staying close to the other maknae’s but they were doing their own preparations for their solos and didn’t want to be a burden. He tried smoking but it would only stir up trouble and was too risky. He tried going onto Korean tv shows but it only felt like more work.

It started to get worse the more he worked on his music and the longer his hyungs were away. He’d stay day and night at the studio, working tirelessly on his album. And when he did venture to his apartment suite, it was cold and empty. The Bangtan group chat dry.

Alone.

He hated the feelings of being alone. After 2020, the tour being cancelled and not being able to see his new fans, being forced to stay inside. He had his members at the time, making English songs that blew up. But he wasn’t happy. He was alone.

And whenever he walked in the door of his apartment after a long day or night, he felt the same feeling. Dread, hopelessness. Empty. And then, the military would come and sweep him away as well.

He didn’t want to feel like that. Didn’t want to spend the time he had before the military being things changed for good, feeling like that. He wouldn’t put out good music for his fans and he wouldn’t do good for himself mentally and physically. He needed something, anything to give him comfort. He couldn’t go down that rabbit hole he once been in.

Sugar.

Your brain's reward system is activated, which releases dopamine, a chemical that signals pleasure.

In this case, Sugar, is a sweet caring friend. A paid friend. Ironic to the fake name she gave Jimin, she was a sugar baby. You are sugar, in every meaning of the word.

He felt weird at first, when Jimin gave him Sugar’s number when he reluctantly told his hyung how he felt one night while drinking together. But after texting for weeks and a shiny NDA contract, Sugar was his temporary paid companion.

They’d text regularly, and when he was feeling his most depressed he’d pay her to come to his house before he got there. They didn’t have to talk, she just had to be there so he didn’t feel like he was drowning in his pity and loneliness. So he felt like people still cared.

As much as he hated it, it was working. The text turned into meet ups at his house. The chilling turned into cuddling. And hell, he felt good waking up in the mornings. Music felt less like work. Life felt like, life.

But working on music, and releasing it were two different battles. And doing it with a group, and being solo, were two different battles.

Taehyung put on a smile as he went backstage, the chilling sound of his fans feeling his ears as his earpiece now silent as his sound ended. It had been a while since he preformed at a Mcountdown, and he had forgotten how many strangers there were backstage as they started profusely congratulating him.

He put on a shy smile as people started handing him a small fan and wiping off his sweat. Before anyone else could crowd him, he grabbed his phone and excused himself to the bathroom.

He could feel his hands shaking, the pressure of being on stage by himself bringing back that some feeling of loneliness. He had forgotten about it because of the fans, but being backstage was much more awkward. He remembered how he used to cool down backstage with his members.

He missed them, dearly.

His fingers shook as he pressed against his phone screen, going to his messages and clicking the top person. He knew it was Sugar, he had only talked to her recently. He asked her to come over, and even sent the money in advance while also tripling the amount. He was vulnerable, and scared. He needed his fix. He needed comfort.

When he was finally able to escape the stage and was able to home later that night, he half expected for Sugar not to be there. The day had been so draining he had completely forgotten.

His eyes widened when he saw her in his apartment, lying on the couch all comfy. Her breathing soft and her hair in front of her face as she slept.

He quietly sat down his things and took off his shoes and socks. He had already changed out of his performance outfit and was in a baggy hoodie and jeans. He walked over to Sugar, brushing her hair out of her face and even that calmed him down from all of the chaos in his mind.

She had looked so comfortable in his space while she slept. So peaceful. Like she belonged there. He hadn’t realized how attached he had gotten to her until that moment. Her beautiful soft skin and playful hair. Her kind natural beauty and caring nature. It has been a while since he met a girl as innocent and sweet as her and the comfort she brought didn’t make it better.

He blinked out of his trance when he saw her blink, as if sensing his everlasting gaze. Her eyelashes fluttered as she slowly opened her eyes, Taehyung smiling when he saw the familiar pearls.

“Oh, you’re back.” She said she yawned and sat up slightly. “How was filming the.. song?” She asked, sounding so unsure and confused in her half awakened mind.

He chuckled, being aware for some time now that she knew nothing about the idol life or even listened to his music, and it was slightly refreshing.

“It was good, Sugar.” He said, his voice tried and raspy from singing and talking all day. The word coming out as more than a pet name more than it being the name she actually went by.

He picked her up, hands gripping her waist tightly as he easily held her up so he could sit on the couch and set her on his lap. His large hands, so soft and masculine, gripped her thighs tightly, situating them around his hips.

His body relaxed and his eyes closed slightly as he felt her soft figure against his chest as she wrapped her arms around her neck, playing with the back of his hair.

“Thank you.” He said breathlessly, eyes still closed as he relaxed and let himself feel her soothing touch. “You’re too good for me.”

”Are you okay?”

He didn’t except to hear her voice, considering she just woke up and that speaking to him wasn’t mandatory or anything. Her voice was as soft as ever, extra quiet from the sleepiness.

Fuck, he was getting attached. He was being too vulnerable, it was getting too intimate. To real.

She was paid to do this. To act caring and sweet so he could keep coming back and she could keep getting money. But God, it felt real now. Much more real than the first few months.

He tensed for a minute, his heart telling him to spill out everything but his brain winning, like most days. “I’m fine, Sugar.” He assured, his hand moving to her hair, gently stroking it. There was a moment where he considered actually telling her about his day, but the thought of it made his chest tighten. He didn't want to burden her with his problems, wanting her to stay shielded to the harsh reality of his life and riches.

"It's just been a long day, and I'm not used to things being this way." He admitted, his voice a bit more strained than normal. It was silent for a minute before he spoke again, not knowing why. “Thank you, for being here.”

“I’ll always be here for you..” she replied softly, looking up at him as she laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s nice here.”

He smirked, a small genuine smile played on his lips before letting out a chuckle. “Is it?” His eyes flickered away from her and to the idle big tv screen.

“I was watching you.” Her voice came through as he looked down at her once more. “Your music video, I mean.” She corrected herself with an awkward chuckle.

“Oh.” Taehyung didn’t know how to feel about it. Of course he was proud of his music, but slightly nervous for her opinion. “What’d you think?”

“It was.. beautiful.” She said, her eyes sparkling as their eyes met. “It was slow and sentimental..” his face reddened as she continued, the words making him antsy.

“I loved it. And you looked all dolled up and cute.” She giggled as she thought back on it. “I’ve never seen you like that.”

“What you look at me differently now? You see me as the big popstar like else everyone does?” He said, trying to play it off as a joke even though he was actually wondering.

“No.. still just Taehyung. My friend.” She said with a smile and his chest tightened slightly as reality set in.

No matter how many nights they’d spent on the phone, no matter how many ranted texts he sent.. No matter how many late nights and cuddles. They were friends, paid friends at that.

He was delusional for thinking it wasn’t anything else other than a girl taking care of her client in order for him to keep coming back later and get more money. Even knowing this—

“You wanna.. stay the night?” I’ll pay you extra.

He wants to say, but maybe if he didn’t bring it up she’d forget that that’s what she was there for. For money, not him..

“Sure!” She said excitedly, making his heart flutter. He hadn’t felt this way in a while. Relaxed and comfortable with someone outside of his group.

She giggled when she saw his almost shocked reaction. “I told you it’s nice here.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at her. “Eh, I’m used to being here.” He gestured to his nice apartment penthouse with the view of the city. Expense brands to cook with and soft nice couches and clothes. He didn’t know why he was trying to act so cool with his grand house when she’d already seen him at his most vulnerable.

He knew from the first few instances that she couldn’t have come from a rich family, judging by her reactions and lack of knowledge with certain gadgets and such. Just looking at the things she did for money, he figured she hadn’t come from the best of the bunch.

“I mean, I already fell asleep on the couch so I might as well sleep there.” She said with a chuckle.

“You don’t want to go to the bedroom with me?”

The words fly out of his mouth before he could even stop himself and he’s surprised by himself. Surprised that he keeps trying to push his luck with this girl. God, he’d given all the hints but couldn’t take one himself.

“I—“ she paused with a nervous chuckle. “Oh wow.” In an effort to get rid of the sudden tension that came over, and to not feel like a creep, he quickly spoke. “I mean— we cuddle anyways. Why not just cuddle each other to sleep. That would help me, don’t you think?”

He felt like an asshole just saying it, but as a miracle would have it, she started to contemplate before shrugging. “Sure, okay!” She said with a small smile.

“Y-You don’t have to! It was a stupid thing to say—“ Taehyung quickly said, sweating as he tried to make it all go away.

“No, no! It’s fine.” She said quickly, the two looking like two teenagers. “I think it’d be good for me too.” She stated and Taehyung softened.

Taehyung turned off all of the lights, taking her hand gently in his as he lead her to his bedroom, a place she’d never been before. There were posters of the group and artwork on the walls. Glimpses of his hobbies scattered around the room.

He took off his hoodie, revealing a plain white shirt underneath before he crawled onto his king sized bed. The quality of it, like everything else he owned, pleasant. She hummed when she laid down next to him, sinking into the mattress as she closed her eyes.

She took a minute to relax before turning on her side and looking at him, who was already staring at her while on his side. The two faced each other, heads on soft pillows with the lights dimmed. “You’re different today..” she muttered her observation softly.

“I know.. that’s why I sent you triple.” He said with a soft chuckle, he knew he would be more clingy, more of a pain. He hoped she was okay with it. That maybe it would become a regular for the two.

“I don’t mind it, Tae-Tae.. It’s peaceful with you.” She said with a soft smile while stroking his hair as Taehyung let out a breath of relief. He had felt the same, at peace. Maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way he did about each other.

He wrapped his arms around her small waist and pulled her closer to him and his heart raced as he took in her features, copying every detail into his brain. She was so beautiful, inside and out. His eyes traced over her face, before landing on her lips. So pretty and pink.

He couldn’t stop himself. He had convinced himself that he would rather try to see if something was there than sit months worrying and dreaming about could have been. So he leaned in closer to her as he licked his lips, and gently pressed his lips onto hers in a soft kiss.

She smiled against it immediately before responding, pushing herself flush against his chest as he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His hand went to her back, gripping it tightly as he held onto her like his life depended on it.

He pulled away after a while, breathless and his heart souring. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while..” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her face.

“Me too..” she squeaked out, swallowing as she closed her eyes and kissed him again. His eyes closed as he relaxed into the affection, his feelings deep as they drifted off to sleep on each other’s arms.

~~

To his horror, Taehyung woke up alone the next morning. He could smell her candied, sugary scent but she wasn’t there. He could feel her sweet sugary lips still on his from the hours before. But she wasn’t there.

He sat up quickly, looking around and fearing the worst. What if she got lost in the complex? Or some crazy fan took her?

He raced to get his phone to do something, to figure something out. Only to be greeted with a notification that was received an hour ago.

Let’s stay friends. Just for now :)

[boricuacherry-blog]

Ari Lennox Went from Uber Driving to Headlining Her Own Tour

I'm curious: If you had tried out for American Idol or The Voice back when you were doing your covers, how would you have done?

My career would be in the trash can. I would have embarrassed the fuck out of myself. Back then, I didn't know who I was. I just wasn't developed. Now I think now I could maybe do well on there.

How often were you talking to J. Cole during the album's development?

He was very involved. He helped me decide what I really loved. And of course, he killed "Facetime" [as the producer] and came through on "Shea Butter Baby."

There were a couple of songs where you had to put your foot down and be like, "Look, these songs aren't for you," right?

Right. It's for women. I felt like he couldn't understand why I love "New Apartment" so much, and I think he was, as a producer, focused on the beat not being as perfect as "Whipped Cream." It's just a different vibe. And what's most important about "New Apartment" is the message. I just wanted to talk about achieving that dream. I never thought I'd ever be able to afford an apartment. I never saw $1,000 until working for Uber, because Wendy's and Papa John's, they don't pay you shit. So when music started happening and I started seeing more money, I was finally able to get my own spot and it was the best feeling.

I think that's a big thing from the album that stuck with people, its relatability. On "I Been," you sing about your Tinder troubles. I don't remember a song really mentioning Tinder before.

Damn, really? I just be talking about the things in my life. But yeah, so many people are just not very genuine online. I caught myself looking for my ex, and a lot of these people that I would swipe right on, I'm meeting them in real life and they're just not that guy at all. It was just a terrible, terrible time.

A couple months ago, you tweeted, "I want to stop being compared to y'alls fave so badly." Who do you hear about the most that you're sick of being compared to?

So, I'm only sick of this because it sometimes makes me feel like there's no room, and that's Erykah Badu. Absolutely no shots at her, she's amazing and a legend. But for me, it's like, if you guys think I sound just like Erykah Badu, is there room for Ari to ever be her own artist? Plus, I've never met Erykah. I'm scared to for a million reasons, and I also don't want her thinking I'm trying to jack her swag or anything. I guess that's my biggest fear - I don't know why she would have time to think about me at all. That's my paranoid mind.

I really think only Erykah Badu can be Erykah Badu. I wish I could create something as legendary as Mama's Gun and Baduizm. That's an all-time body of work right there.

This interview is beautiful because you're asking so many different things. But a lot of times people just jump straight to, "Yeah, you remind me of Erykah," and I'm just like, "Man, did you check out other things? Do you really know my discography? Do you know anything about me?"

They did that to SZA! They compared SZA to Erykah, and I do not hear that at all. I could understand why they'd say that with me to at least some extent. I almost didn't want "Chicago Boy" on the album because even though I wasn't trying to go to the studio and sound like Erykah, I could hear influences of certain things she's done.

[eclvpses]

welcome to marina, FORREST ABBOTT ( demi man, he/they ) ! they are a TWENTY-FOUR year old who has lived over on LOCKE ROW for THEIR WHOLE LIFE and works as a TOUR GUIDE at ELYSIAN MUSEUM and a SERVER at THE PEARL. everyone says they look a lot like ZETHPHAN SMITH-GNEIST. what do you think? — bri, 26, they/she, est.

below are mentions of miscarriages, and mental illness (anxiety)!

stats.

name: forrest silver abbott.

age: twenty four.

gender identity: demi man.

pronouns: he/they.

sexuality: demisexual.

birthday: october 23rd, 1998.

star sign: scorpio.

myer-briggs: infp.

occupation: elysian museum tour guide/bartender at the pearl.

place of birth: marina island.

last played on spotify: enjoy the silence by depeche mode.

general disposition: naive and cheery.

background.

for 10 years it was just forrest and his mama lydia in their cozy little trailer at locke row, he’s never met his dad who left as soon as he discovered she was pregnant, not really interested in raising a kid with someone who struggled to get by even while working three jobs

from a young age forrest had to take care of himself since his mama worked sm, but he always got the concept that it was for him to live a good life and necessary for them to get by, she rly showed it well by making sure he knew how much she loved him whenever she cld b around :’)

it was around this time that things were starting to look up - his mama met a really nice man named marcel n while things moved really fast for them they seemed to be a perfect match, soon she was engaged and giving birth to triplets and they even moved into his place in hyland park, everything was coming up roses

miscarriage/mental illness; unfortunately as soon as things were good they sort of came to an immediate crash - lydia n marcel tried for another bebe before their wedding but she ended up having a miscarriage :( this sort of sent her into a depressive spiral for a really, really long time

it was bad enough that marcel eventually had enough, she wouldn’t take her medication, wouldn’t talk to a therapist, couldn’t even get out of bed, so he said she had to shape up or go back to their place in locke row, and stubborn as she was she packed everything up that night and the 5 of them went back to their little trailer, this time with a lot less room and a lot more responsibility on forrest’s shoulders

since he was about 14 he’s juggled an abundance of jobs to help his family, it was especially hard when they moved back to locke row, he mostly took care of his little brothers and mum when he could but he had art school at the time and work on top of it, it rly was the sort of stress no one shld go thru but he did at a rly young age for quite a long time

details.

lives for their art!!!! their dream is to eventually teach art or run their own photography studio, almost always covered in paint and seen with a camera

still lives at locke row w his family, his mum got a pretty well paying job as a psw but it’s still difficult when u have three 12 year olds running around so forrest watches over them a lot while working as a tour guide and bartender, while selling their art pieces and doing odd photography jobs while they can, whatever will put money on the table

mental illness; grew up incredibly shy and with pretty severe anxiety, they're just used to people leaving so it’s hard for them to trust but he’s also a classic golden retriever boy, if people give him an inch he’ll take it right away but he struggles with approaching people himself, definitely wasn’t too popular in school bc of this

did a double major at the community college for photography and visual arts :yum:

he tries not to do Too many photography jobs cuz he loves it more as their escape than anything, travels around the island a lot to find random locations and will just spend hours taking pictures, u cant see any of the walls in his tiny bedroom theyre jst covered in his own pictures and art

could paint for hours too tbh (see above ofc), does a lot of art classes whenever he has time and money to spare

has never been in a relationship or even with anyone, the most he’s done frankly is casual make outs at parties or wtvr, always kinda chickens out if it ever goes any further……….. has not picked up on the fact that hes a demisexual/demiromantic king<3 probs doesnt even kno what that is LKSHDGKLHSDG

bc of this wtvr friendships hes made hes definitely romanticized, frankly by accident, he can just grow attached quite easily and since hes demiromantic anytime hes ever had a crush on someone its been ppl hes close to n has learned to trust. it confuses him a lot. LKSDHGKLHSDLG

obsessed w 80s pop its easily their fav genre (taste)

connections.

childhood friends!!

also ppl who forced their way into his life, basically jst approached him first n as soon as they showed him any sort of kindness n affection he was automatically like . ok we’re attached fr life sis

neighbours at locke row?? mayhaps?? #trailerliving

ppl at parties who’ve made a move or he’s hooked up w but when it came down to the Nitty Gritty he was like . oh………….. i think my mums calling me……….. i gtg……………………….. jst no explanation. LKSHDGKLHDSGL

i rly lov the idea of him hvin someone he loves to use as his muse……. either fr his art or photography

mayb someone who he actually was almost in a relationship w once upon a time bt it jst didnt work out, timing was off or he backed out cuz he felt bad that he probs cldnt give them his full attention w helping his family etc.

coworkers!!

old college classmates/ppl who take art classes w him??

ok i think those r all the ideas i hv rn. we can also brainstorm. lets get wild.

[sinfultray1408]

Scene Comparisons: -2-

My Life With Chaplin: An Intimate Memoir by Lita Grey Chaplin with Morton Cooper (pg. 23-25)

Wife of the Life of the Party: A Memoir by Lita Grey Chaplin and Jeffrey Vance (pg. 11-12)

As far as Grandpa was concerned, Charlie Chaplin was the only justification for motion pictures. Everyone else in the industry was a rotter, a heathen, a lecher, out to corrupt decency; the movie folks, after all, were the ones who had vulgarized and changed the face and perhaps the soul of the Hollywood he loved. He was hanged if he would let me anywhere near a movie studio, in spite of Mama's--and Grandma's gentle chidings that he was too straitlaced for his own good. He even glowered when Merna Kennedy, my best friend, came to the house to play.

Merna and I had met at dancing school. She was a pretty, red-haired girl who danced well and who had had a little fling, in fact, at touring in vaudeville. This upset Grandpa, and although he was always civil with Merna, he was never really comfortable when I brought her home.

One of our neighbors, and one of Mama's friends, was Chuck Riesner, Charlie Chaplin's assistant director. One day Chuck rang our bell - grandpa was out, fortunately - with an offer to make. "We're starting to shoot a six-reeler, and it may interest you, Lillian," he told Mama. "It's a great story. Mr. Chaplin's calling it The Kid for the time being and we need some small fry for some of the sequences. If you like I can get Lillita a part. It won't pay much, and it won't take long, but it would be a nice experience for her."

Interested? Mama and I both became feverish with excitement. The following day, at Chuck's suggestion, we appeared at the Chaplin studio, having remembered to forget to say anything to Grandpa. In his office Chuck explained that California law had two rules about child players: I would have to have an adult chaperon at all times, and my schooling was not to be interrupted; the Board of Education would send a teacher to the studio every weekday for as long as I was in The Kid.

Before the end of the discussion it was agreed that we would be issued a contract, the terms of which were that Mama would act as chaperon in addition to her work as an extra in the picture. Chuck walked with us to the front gate, but on the way he paused at a door. “While you're here you might as well meet Mr. Chaplin, if he's not too busy,” he said, and knocked.

I gaped at Mama, who seemed to be taking the earth-quake in stride. I was going to come face to face with Charlie Chaplin, which for a twelve-year-old girl in 1920 was almost like coming face to face with God.

"Come in."

Motioning for us to wait, Chuck entered the room. From my side of the door, I could see Charlie Chaplin - Charlie Chaplin! seated at a long desk, busily leafing through a sheaf of papers as Chuck talked to him. He wasn't wearing the tramp costume he'd worn the day I'd fled from him in the restaurant. I saw the somber-faced, mid-thirtyish Charlie Chaplin whose non-Tramp photographs were in the newspapers and magazines. I was nervous, and my knees almost buckled when Chuck beckoned us in.

However many private insecurities and self-doubts I had at twelve, I was not an ingrown kid; I had learned poise, and I was satisfied that my personality was an agreeable one- and I'd learned to enjoy meeting people. Yet when we went into that small, spare, neat office my palms were moist, and I was sure I would be tongue-tied. I felt awkward and infantile and homely. The day before I had stood, in front of our full-length mirror, melodramatically posing and admiring my developing breasts. Now, perversely, I was ashamed of them, and although I was dressed modestly enough, I wished that I were wearing a coat to hide them completely.

The great man didn't leap to his feet with courtly, expansive gestures of welcome, but he did rise and smile as the introductions were made. His eyes were violet blue, and soulful. He had small hands and feet, a disproportionately large head and a lithe body, and, I noticed, slightly protruding teeth. He was quietly refined, and he had a commanding presence.

"I'm pleased to know you," he said, nodding slightly to Mama. He was rather restrained with me as well, but he did take my hand and shake it. He saw me flinch, and evidently - and accurately - associating my flinching with the fact that my palm was disgracefully damp, his smile broadened. "You're an extremely pretty child, my dear," he said warmly, "and I'm glad Mr. Riesner found you." Before I could find my voice to thank him, he released my soggy hand and said to Chuck, as though I were no longer in the office, "She should do well with us. Those are striking eyes. She reminds me a bit of the child in the 'Age of Innocence’ painting."

He appeared ready to dismiss us, and as he stepped back to his chair Chuck gave me a solemn wink. I was certainly ready to go, but that was the moment Mama decided to bubble. "Mr. Chaplin, I suppose you wouldn't remember, but oh, quite a number of years ago - you met Lillita. It was in that restaurant right around -“

He listened politely to her pointless story. "Oh, yes, I do remember," he lied, edging closer to his chair. "Ah - now, if you will excuse me, I must get back to work.”

I was furious with Mama on our way back home. I insisted that she shouldn't have brought up such a silly thing, that he was merely being polite in having us in his office for a few minutes.

"It wasn't silly at all," she said blithely. "He does remember meeting you. I could tell as soon as I reminded him."

On one particular day in the spring of 1920, I was on our front porch doing my homework with Merna, when I looked up and saw Chuck Riesner walking along in front of our flat. He was motioning to me to come and join him. He was with a man I did not know. Leaving Merna, I ran across our lawn to join the two men.

"Lillita," said Chuck, "I want you to meet Charlie Chaplin." This Mr. Chaplin did not look anything like the Charlie Chaplin I had seen before. I understood from Hal Parker that real people were used for the movie screens and that makeup and costume altered one's appearance, but this man did not look anything like Charlie Chaplin.

Chuck Riesner evidently could see the incredulity on my face. "This is Mr. Charlie Chaplin, Lillita. I've been telling Mr. Chaplin about you and thought you might like to be in a movie. We're using some young people, and I think you'll photograph well."

Charlie spoke. "Would you like to be in a movie?"

"I'd love to be in your movie," I said. "But I'll have to ask my mother."

"Oh, certainly," said Chuck.

Chuck Riesner was fond of me. I was spending a lot of time at his house playing with Dinky (Dean Franklin); I have always loved babies. Chuck wanted to do something kind for me by having Charlie use me in one of his films.

"You go and get your mother," said Chuck. "I'm sure she'll let you be in a movie.”

"All right!" I said. "I'll go get her." I raced across our lawn, stopped on the porch to tell Merna that I would be right back, and dashed up the stairs to our flat on the second floor. Finding Mama in the kitchen ironing one of my dresses, I yelled, "Mama! Mr. Riesner is downstairs with Charlie Chaplin! They want me to be in a movie. Can I? Oh, please, can I?"

My mother put her iron down on the metal plate and turned to look at me. Calmly, she said to me, "Why, you're covered with perspiration. Go wash your face.”

"But Mama, they want to see you! Will you go downstairs and talk to them?"

My mother was not about to be rushed.

When I passed her inspection, my mother and I went downstairs and met with Chuck Riesner and Charlie.

Mother and Chuck did all the talking. Charlie and I just looked at each other. He was striking in appearance with coal black hair, which was greying at the temples, and marvelous blue eyes.

He wore a grey business suit with a shirt open at the neck and buttoned shoes. He had beautiful eyes, I thought. When he smiled, I recognized the toothy smile of the Tramp I had seen before.

Mama told Chuck that I could be in the movie as long as my education was not neglected and that I was given a chaperone.

"Oh, that's no problem," assured Chuck. "The Board of Education will make certain Lillita has a tutor for her lessons, and as far as a chaperone is concerned, I don't know anyone better suited for that role than you, Mrs. Parker." Mama was pleased.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

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

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, “I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table. 

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

[freedomseeker91]

Enough Is Enough....

Summary: When Beca and Chloe’s anniversary dinner is ruined by Theo’s extreme work schedule, Chloe decides enough is enough and takes matters into her own hands, while Beca finally takes a stand against her tyrannical manager and opens up to Chloe about some personal demons.

Rating: T for Angst/Comfort

Warnings: Implied mentions of drug use.

I’ve had this draft fic stored in my drafts folder for 2 years now and have never done anything with it. Since I don’t plan on taking it any further I’m releasing it into the wild so that it can at least breathe as it’s own stand alone piece.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be at home in their cozy beach house in Malibu, enjoying a nice home cooked meal, celebrating their anniversary.

But that wasn’t the case. Yet again Theo had booked up Beca’s schedule with performances and appearances all over LA and across the US. Shipping her here there and everywhere because “exposure generates followers and followers generate money.”

Chloe had seen it in Beca’s eyes the day she received the phone call about the changes in her schedule. Having worked over time in the studio to fit in some much needed time off, it was more than a disappointment to say the least.

Beca was growing frustrated with what was expected of her, and while Chloe tried to be sympathetic knowing that it wasn’t Beca’s fault, she couldn’t deny that she had begun to grow impatient.

Chloe wanted her fiancée to put her foot down, to demand time off so that she could have some semblance of a personal life. But Beca couldn’t, she knew she couldn’t. Not because she was afraid to, but because she was contractually obliged to. She was legally caught between a rock and a hard place.

Every time she tried to push back against Theo’s attempts to fill up her schedule, he would simply remind her of the terms of her contract. The very contract that demanded at least two more albums and one world tour before it was up for negotiation.

She was simply a pawn in the business game that was the entertainment industry, and they were going to cash in on her success and popularity while it lasted, even if it was at the expense of Beca having any sort of a personal life.

Chloe couldn’t stand it any longer. She could see the toll it was talking on her fiancée, the touring, the travelling, the long hours in the studio, it was sucking the life out of Beca.

The brunette was beyond exhausted, having not had a minute to breathe since debuting for Khaled in France. For two and a half years she had been pushed from pillar to post with little to no say over anything except what she recorded.

The was the one thing Beca had leverage over, creative control. She determined her sound, and that sound was what made her a star. So much so, that Theo seemed to have taken things to the limit with regards to the business side of everything.

This system had been a massive bone of contention between Theo and Beca and by extension Chloe. The last major argument had been when Theo tried to dissuade Beca from outing herself after she proposed to Chloe.

Not wanting to draw attention to his star or possibly diminish her marketability by alienating the male market, or indeed the conservative one, he “advised” her to keep a lid on things for her own sake, to keep her image in tact.

However Beca wasn’t having it. She wouldn’t pay heed to his advice because as far as she was concerned, Chloe meant much more to her than millions of dollars or Instagram followers.

So against Theo’s wishes, more specifically behind Theo’s back, Beca had posted a loving proposal portrait of herself and Chloe from the night she had proposed, professing her undying love and gratitude to the ‘woman who had been there all along.’

It had caught the world by surprise, no less Chloe who had become aware of the post through an Instagram notification while at one of her lectures. At first she had been a little annoyed about the fact she hadn’t been given a heads up, especially when her classmates all took notice and began whispering, having not been privy to Chloe’s personal life before.

But when it finally sank in, she realised the gravity of the situation. Beca was making a statement, a very clear, bold statement. She was Chloe’s, and no contract or person or any amount of money would keep her from acknowledging the fact that she was taken, more specifically, that she was hopelessly head over heels in love.

It had endeared Beca to Chloe even more because the brunette was so willing to put her relationship above her career, however Theo wasn’t as accepting. He retaliated by making it next to impossible for Beca to have a moment of free time with Chloe, infuriating both women.

They could see through his tactics, however, Theo was such a golden boy with the label that he was able to talk his way out of problems Beca brought to their attention. Essentially pushing her concerns off as insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

He was making her a star, this boded well for everyone financially, why rock the boat over petty behaviour? But it wasn’t petty behaviour, it was straight up sabotage. Theo was making a point, he was in charge and Beca just had to accept it and bend to his will.

It was in the contract after all.

The problem was, the issues were stemming deeper than simply not seeing Chloe enough. The redhead could see the bigger picture even if Beca couldn’t. The brunettes health was deteriorating from both the stress and volume of work she was expected to keep on top of.

Beca hadn’t had a substantial amount of time off in god knows how long, she was burning herself out and Chloe was more than concerned about what would happen if she didn’t slow down. A life that subsided on little sleep, little time to eat and caffeine wasn’t healthy for anyone.

“Chlo it’s okay. The albums almost finished and no matter what the contract says, I’m done. Theo and Khaled can just suck it up.”

That very statement had been made a week ago and since then, things seemed to have gotten worse. Beca had been forced to bail on countless lunch dates, had missed dinner and now, Chloe was sat in their house in Malibu celebrating her anniversary alone while her fiancée slaved away in the studio.

It was the straw that broke the camels back. Theo had pushed and pushed and Beca wasn’t pushing back. So Chloe decided to take matters into her own hands.

Gathering up her purse and car keys, Chloe slipped out of the house and into her car, making her way towards downtown LA and the studio she had become familiar with in the early stages of Beca’s career.

She wasn’t sure what her plan of action was, her feet just seemed to move of their own accord, but she knew she had to fix the situation they were in.

All through the 40 minute drive, Chloe’s hands seemed to grip the steering wheel tighter and tighter the closer she got to the outer city limits of LA.

Her mind just drummed up an image of Theo’s face and it filled her with this white hot rage she had never felt before. Never in her life had she hated someone, and this was crossing uncharted waters of emotions for Chloe, all she knew was that her protective instincts had kicked in and no one was going to stand in her way.

Finally arriving at the studio, Chloe parked across the street and remembered to grab her visitor badge from the glove box. Lifting the laminate over her head she let it dangle around her neck, clearly displaying her studio access.

Walking into the reception area, she noted that the place was vacant and dimly lit. In fact the only presence in the building the further she went was that if the janitors. This just further enraged her.

Stepping into the open elevator she hit the button for the floor that had become known as Beca’s floor, waiting impatiently for the familiar ding of arrival.

Once the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Chloe stepped out and burst down the corridor, glancing into the glass office walls along the way to notice that everyone else seemed to have left. Not a single desk was occupied.

By the time she reached the studio, she noticed the red light above the door, but she didn’t care. Near ripping the handle off, she stepped into the room to find Beca hunched over the control system, head in her hands, Theo on the couch, his face surprised by her appearance and one or two other producers around him.

The “producers” were sat around, beers in hand with empty Chinese take out boxes littered around the table in front of them, a white powdery substance and a credit card lying idly by. Theo was nursing what Chloe could only assume was a glass of some pretentious, obscenely priced scotch.

At the sound of the door bursting open, Beca turned in her chair and Chloes heart broke at the sight before her. To anyone else there would’ve been no obvious signs that anything was wrong, but Chloe could see the exhaustion hidden behind Beca’s gaze.

It was the same look Beca would get when the weight of all the Bella’s success would land on her shoulders. The same look Beca would hold for several months as she tried to balance the expectations of her fellow Bella’s, her internship and college without collapsing under the strain.

It was a look that told Chloe that Beca was on the edge, and if someone didn’t save her, there would be no coming back. Levelling her gaze at Theo, Chloe clenched her jaw staring him down.

Chloe didn’t have to be told anything to know that while her fiancée was being worked to the bone, probably having skipped every meal that day in order to get done as quickly as possible, Theo and his buddies had been sitting back enjoying the fruits of Beca’s labour. And Chloe was done.

“Beca’s finished here, we’re going home,” Chloe said, her tone insinuating that it wasn’t up for discussion. Of course Theo wasn’t one to be told what to do or how things should play out. With a look of annoyance he put down his glass and stood up, squaring off to the redhead.

“Excuse me, I don’t know who you think you are but Beca’s work schedule is none of your business. We have a record to finish and we’re under the thumb so if you’ll excuse us, some of us have work to do.”

Chloe scoffed at this. Work, as if Theo knew the meaning of the word. The guy spent most of his day hiding behind his sunglasses scrolling through his phone looking busy while the people around him did the heavy lifting.

“Work?” Chloe sassed, “I’m sorry I didn’t realise stuffing a kilo of coke up your nose was such a chore these days. My bad.”

Theo’s nostrils flared and he made to take a step closer to Chloe, but before he could get any closer a hand was pushing back against his chest and a petite frame came into view stepping between him and the redhead.

“Lay a hand on her and I swear to God it’s the last thing you’ll ever do!” Beca threatened, stepping back to make sure Chloe was out of Theo’s direct pathway. She reached behind her and laced her fingers with Chloe’s, squeezing for comfort, and courage. Theo lifted his hand and pointed his finger at Beca.

“You sit back down and get back to work,” he commanded, and Beca flinched at the subtle dangerous tone in his voice, and for a brief moment, Chloe wondered if it was a different kind of fear that had prevented Beca from leaving for so long.

“No,” Beca whispered, swallowing and glancing down almost in embarrassment at how weak she sounded as Theo’s presence looked over.

“I don’t think you heard me right. This isn’t a choice Beca. You’re contractually obliged to fulfill your commitments. Now Get. Back. To Work,” Theo spat, his jaw clenched.

Chloe could see in Theo’s eyes that it was the drugs talking as much as his own ego, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t momentarily afraid of what he would do, but somehow, somewhere, Beca seemed to find her voice again.

“I said... NO!” She stated, this time her voice sounding more sure. Beca glared up at Theo, breath quickening as her own temper began to flare up.

“I’m done Theo. I’m done being you’re slave, I’m done being the one carrying the load while everyone else enjoys the perks. I’m just, I’m done.”

Theo stood back in exasperation, brows furrowed in disbelief. And he huffed out a laugh at her comments.

“Do you really think this is it? Do you really think you can just walk away? I own you Beca and everything you put your name to,” Theo replied, a shit eating grin crossing his face, “you’re nothing without me. You walk away and you are done, you will never work in this business again.”

Chloe momentarily faltered in her steadfast desire to knock Theo from his perch. The consequences of what all of this would do to Beca’s career now weighing heavily on her as she glanced from her fiancée to the man who held all the cards before them.

Beca simply chuckled and slapped her hand down by her side.

“Then take it. Take it all, take everything from me, I don’t care anymore. I don’t care about the fame, I don’t care about the money, any of it. Just take it. You’re right I am nothing without you. But guess what, I was nothing before you and I survived just fine. So take it, take all of it. I’m done.”

With one last glare in Theo’s direction, Beca pulled her lanyard from its place hanging from her back pocket and flung it at the man before turning on her heel and exiting the studio, gripping hold of Chloe’s hand tightly.

As they proceeded down the corridor towards the exit they heard Theo shouting Beca’s name, louder and louder, until the distinct sound of a fist hitting a wall reverberated around them. But neither girl stopped until they reached the exit.

As they stepped outside and the late night air hit her for the first time, the panic that had been building inside of Beca’s chest finally spilled over as she tried desperately to catch her breath and stem the flow of her tears at the same time.

Chloe quickly gripped her by the forearms, leaned their foreheads together and whispered reassuring soothing words to calm her down. Over Beca’s shoulder she spotted a pap down the street and she gazed into Beca’s eyes.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” she said and tugged Beca across the street to her car, where they climbed in and made the journey back home to Malibu.

Both women were silent the entire 40 minute trip back and when they pulled up in the driveway and parked in the garage, Chloe killed the ignition and just sat there, observing Beca whose mind was clearly racing a mile a minute.

“I’m sorry,” Beca finally said, breaking the silence. Chloe just shook her head.

“Don’t be. I get it now. Bec’s if I’d known how bad Theo was, how hard he was pushing. I mean I knew he was pressuring you but Jesus,” Chloe sighed in disbelief, still not able to get over the man she saw before her a mere hour ago. But Beca simply shook her head.

“Not about that, about this,” Beca said gesturing to the house and the car, everything around her. “I promised you the world, and now we could lose everything.”

Chloe looked at her fiancée in shock, mouth bobbing up and down as she processed Beca’s words. Turning sideways in her seat she regarded the brunette closely.

“OMG Bec’s, do you think I care about all this? About the house, the money?” She asked and Beca just looked at her pitifully. Chloe reached over and pulled Beca’s hand into her lap, clutching it between both of her own.

“Bec’s I could care less about any of that. I just want you. Whether that’s in a beach house in Malibu or...or a stuffy shoebox apartment you couldn’t swing a cat in, or hell a card box under a bridge, I don’t care. As long as I have you, as long as we’re okay.”

Tears spilled down Beca’s cheeks, the weight of everything finally allowing itself to be released. Chloe reached up a hand and cupped Beca’s cheek wiping the tears away with her thumb.

“You were wrong you know. When you said Theo could take everything from you,” Chloe said and Beca looked at her confused. The redhead simply gave her a soft loving smile.

“He could never take me away from you. And you were never nothing. You are everything. And Theo might be able to take your name musically, but he’ll never be able to take it away from me wearing it.”

It took Beca a moment to register what Chloe was saying.

“Wait are you....” before she could finish Chloe was grinning and nodding.

“I wanna take your name. I wanna be Mrs. Chloe Mitchell.”

Beca beamed at the thought and glanced down to their joined hands, squeezing tightly before bringing them up to her lips and kissing the back of Chloe’s hand. They sat there for a moment quietly and Chloe hesitated briefly on whether or not to ask the next question. But she needed to be sure.

“Bec’s about the drugs in the studio...” before she could finish Beca shook her head.

“I’m not on drugs Chlo and I’ve never taken any either. Theo, he brought that stuff into the studio, I’ve never touched it,” Beca replied her tone even. She wasn’t angry at Chloe for asking the question considering what she saw.

“Okay, I trust you,” Chloe replied. She never really doubted Beca, but she could’ve easily understood the temptation considering all of the pressure and stress that surrounded her fiancée.

Beca regarded Chloe for a moment and thought about the open lines of communication they had promised one another as Beca’s profile began to rise. It wasn’t an easy topic to broach, but after what had transpired, she felt she owed it to Chloe to at least try.

“I... I have been drinking more. Like a LOT, more,” Beca starter as she swallowed around the lump beginning to form in her throat. Chloe furrowed her brow at this, having never seen Beca drink more than the odd beer or glass of wine around the house.

“On the road, or when I’ve been doing press I’ve.... it started out as a couple of drinks to take the edge off. Keep me calm. But it’s.... it’s more now. Hotel rooms, the studio, waking up in the middle of the night. I just, I felt like I couldn’t control anything and it, it helped.”

Chloe was momentarily dazed. She never would’ve suspected Beca of abusing alcohol to cope, she’d never seen it. But then again that was the hallmark of someone with a problem, the ones that were in too deep, were usually the best at hiding it until it was too late.

“Do you.... do you think you have a problem?” Chloe asked. She wasn’t sure how to navigate the conversation. She didn’t want to outright accuse or make suggestions, but her fiancée was telling her she was struggling and she needed to find a way to help.

Beca shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know. I mean what’s the definition of an alcoholic?” Beca asked just as befuddled by the whole thing.

“Does emptying an entire mini fridge in a hotel room count or is that just a good time?” Beca asked though their was a sarcastic tone to what she said.

Chloe blew out a breath and allowed the words floating around in her head to relax before she leaned in closer to Beca, as close as the seats would allow and gripped her hand tighter.

“I think... I think you’re someone who has been under an immense amount of strain and pressure for a really long time and needed an outlet. And I think maybe that outlet has gotten to be too much?” Chloe said, the inflection in her voice rising at the end to indicate it was more of a question than a statement.

And Beca nodded because it sure did sound about right, and she glanced down at their joined hands almost ashamed of what she had to say next.

“Every time things start getting to be too much, I feel this itch to grab a bottle of something, anything, just to silence everything in here,” Beca said gesturing to her head.

Chloe didn’t need a degree in psychology to know that her fiancée was definitely on the precipice of something bigger, something potentially more harmful. But she wasn’t yet too far gone to do anything about it.

“I think, we should maybe look into some counselling, to help with the urges. Maybe they can teach you some coping strategies or something.”

Beca looked contemplative for a moment, before giving a little nod of her head. It wasn’t a reluctant nod, more a nod that suggested she was scared, but willing to make a change.

At this Chloe leaned even closer pressing her forehead to Beca’s and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“And the next time you get an itch to reach out and grab something, you reach out and grab my hand and hold on as tight as you need. I’ll always be here to support you.”

Beca couldn’t contain herself anymore as she reached across the console and kissed Chloe. Even when the world felt like it was imploding around her, the redhead somehow always found a way to make everything feel like it would be okay.

The producer was more than aware of the fact that her drinking habits were beginning to creep into the danger zone. Those urges growing more frequent and more consuming as time went on.

There was a fine line between taking the edge off and drinking to cope and Beca had stepped over the line. But it was a line she could learn to step back from if she was prepared to acknowledge how dangerous the excess was.

She was self aware enough to realise there was a difference between drinking to have a good time, and drinking to forget about her problems. The difference between wanting a drink and needing a drink was whether or not you could live without it. Needing it was when the the line had been crossed into an unhealthy relationship.

Beca was by no means living by the bottle 24/7, but it was frequent enough to make even herself question if her own relationship with the substance was healthy. And she didn’t want to become that person for Chloe. She didn’t want it to be too late to fix it.

Gazing out around at the interior of the garage, Beca couldn’t help but be reminded of the potential financial peril they had been tossed into thanks to Beca finally standing up to Theo.

“What are we gonna do about all of this? If Theo sues me, which he would have every right to, we could lose everything,” Beca said with a slight shake of her head. Chloe just shrugged off

“We’ll figure it out. And if we have to start all over again, we’ll do it. I can lose a house, I can lose cars, money, all of it.... but I can’t lose you.”

Beca gazed at Chloe, then down at their joined hands.

“Even if we’re back to living in a shoebox apartment struggling to make ends meet?” Beca asked. And Chloe simply smiled back at her.

“Those days in that shoebox apartment were some of the best days of my life. It’s where our relationship began. Anywhere with you is home Beca. Whether that’s here or the other side of the world.”

Beca gazed deep into Chloe’s eyes absorbing every word. Chloe was right, Theo could take everything away from her. But he could never take away the thing that mattered most to her.

And as they sat in that driveway relieving themselves of all the stresses that had been consuming them for some time, they both realised that that was all that truly mattered.

[fwkei]

Remember...?

Draken x fem!reader (mainly fluff slight angst)

Finally got my first request yall 🥳 I couldn’t strictly follow the request like i wanted to but i hope thats alright, the gist is still there. anyways thank you sm for it and i hope you enjoy 

TW/CW: Mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex work

WC: 7k (omg the most ive ever written🙆🏻‍♀️)

Note: I changed my writing style a bit for this request so i hope yall don’t mind! and again i dont read my stuff over so my apologies if theres any mistakes lmao

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You sat on the street, overheating as you watched the ‘heat waves’ coming off the ground. You held your hair up with one of your hands since you had nothing to tie it with, while the other held a lukewarm water bottle. You sighed, you felt so anxious and frustrated.

What now?  

You thought letting your mouth part due to your heavy breathing 

You took things too fast. It had been about 3 weeks since you left your parents ‘home’ and why did you leave? Well there were a number of reasons that are a bit too much to list, but all that matters now is that you’re completely and utterly on your own. 

You only managed to scavenge small jobs here and there to get some money to buy some basic necessities but nothing more. 

“Sorry Y/n, my niece is coming down to Tokyo and I told her she could have a job here and stay at the studio above...I’m gonna have to let go. I’m sorry.” said your boss to you only a couple hours ago, with pity filled eyes 

“...No it’s fine really! I understand.Thank you for taking me in while you could.” you said bowing your head at the man, biting your inner cheek trying to keep a level head 

“I’m happy you understand. You can leave your apron and hat on the cashier. On your way out.” he said patting your shoulder as you slowly brought your head up 

“Right..” you said taking off your apron and hat as you walked slowly to the cashier, placing it down 

You brought your hands to your temples out of stress, trying to figure out what you could do now. You only had very little money, and there was a heat wave striking Japan this week. At least your boss allowed you to live and pay rent in the small studio right above his store, which had an AC, but now that was for his niece.  

This had been the first time in a while where you had no idea what to do. You had always been the type of person to be able to take care of yourself and your problems..on your own. All your life since you can remember, you always had to be the one to take care of others, not that you mind or minded...but you were only so young. You never really had a childhood, at least not that you can remember. You do remember cleaning up after your parents who lost all will just to even... parent. You remember taking jobs as a babysitter at a really young age in your apartment complex to make some money.. You remember being the reliable older kid of your school and complex, where kids would come to you asking for help with things like homework all the way to buying something for them to eat because they were hungry. Not once did you ever say no, because you really did want to be there for those kids who’s parents didn’t give them the care they needed. But it just became too much.. You ended up spending all of your saved up money on them, just so they could have something to play with or something to eat. 

Before you even realized it, you were in your last year of high school, with no money saved over, no scholarships, no one to rely on but yourself. Not even a friend. Was it really the right thing to do? Use all your money that you worked so hard for to help kids he lived next door? Or just plain stupid? You knew you couldn't support them forever...but you tried so hard to. All you wanted was to give them a childhood they never had, and someone to look up too. But now you left them. All because you were frustrated. You felt so unbearably guilty. All the work you put into your studies to get at least some type of scholarship just went to waste because you couldn't handle your life anymore. You were being so so so stupid. 

Before you even knew it, the sun was going down, and you grew even more tired and sleepy. You signed, taking a jacket out of your bag and placing it on the ground so you could rest your head on it. You brought your hands to cushion your cheek as your eyes started to close. The air finally got a little cooler making it easier to breathe and well...do anything. 

As you were falling asleep you could hear chatter and laughing, and finally a tap on your shoulder waking you up. You cringed your eyes before opening them up more to see 2 women. One had blonde hair and the other had pinkish hair. They looked older than you, maybe in their 20’s. One held a bag and the other held a bottle of wine with two glasses, they bent down so their heads could be closer to yours. After examining you for a bit they turned to each other and smiled happily before turning back their gaze to your confused face. 

“Hey?” you said sitting up more, a little startled by the intimate contact they were giving you 

“Hey there, say...what’s a pretty girl like you sleeping on the street for?” asked the girl with pinkish hair that was tied into pigtails 

“I uh..don’t have a place right now so..” you said scratching your head 

“Really? Hmmm.” said he one with blonde hair 

“How old are you? And what’s your name? I think we can help you out! Woman to woman!” said the pink haired girl smiling sweetly making you feel fuzzy at their niceness 

“18, and it’s Y/n.” you said smiling nervously 

“Nice to meet you Y/n, I’m Remi, this is Rema, my twin sister.” said the pink haired girl pointing to the blonde as she waved sweetly 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too..!” you said bringing your hands to your thighs smiling 

“So did you just turn 18?” asked Rema 

“Sorta, 2 months ago, why?” you asked 

“Oh good!” they both said 

“Well, it’s your choice really. One of the girls left today, and the boss sent us to scout another girl to take her place, buttt we just went to buy food with no intentions of finding someone but luckily we just found you! It’s perfect!” said Remi 

“Oh? What work?” you asked getting excited 

“Oh silly, we live in a brothel! It’s really not all that bad you know, great pay and rooms...so what do you think?” asked Rema 

“A brothel..” you said under your breath 

Your mind was in a serious state of concentration. 

It can’t be all that bad, right? You just have to please people and go on with your day so… that’s what i've been doing my whole life… plus… there's a bunch of women in those things right? I probably won't get too much attention from customers if there's sweethearts like Remi and Rema walking around...so...just for the time being… I think it could really work out in my favor. 

You thought to yourself 

You brought your head up, giving the girls a closed eyes smile before shaking your head ‘yes’ making them jump in excitement. 

“Oh good!” yelled Remi grabbing your hands 

“I’m so excited! We haven't had a new girl in years! How do you think Ken will react?” asked Rema smiling as you 3 all started to walk 

“Ken?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows at the familiar name 

“Oh right, We’ll have to introduce you to him and everyone else tomorrow. He’s the bosses foster kid..I think you two are actually the same age.” said Rema bringing her pointer finger to her chin 

“Mhm mhm! Oh and since you're new, tomorrow I will take your pictures for the board, you can borrow one of my sets till you can afford to buy one for yourself, how does that sound Y/n?” asked Remi smiling and holding your hand 

“It sounds..great! Thank you so much.” you said bowing your head slightly 

“No worries! Hopefully the boss will take you in.” said Remi patting your head 

“Yeah..” you said as you 3 continued to walk to the brothel 

You couldn't seem to get your mind off of that familiar name..Ken? You swore you knew someone named that. It definitely wasn't a popular name so it’s not like you knew it from some type of T.V program.. After thinking hard your whole way to your new home you couldn't seem to remember them. The person named Ken. And so you decided to brush it off for the time being. 

The brothel was pretty big, and consisted of 12 girls, not including yourself. It was really late so everyone was asleep. Remi and Rema showed you to your room which was much more spacious than your room at home. They told you that you were allowed to decorate it and style it however you wanted. But they told you it was important to know that this was the room where business would be done, and not to leave important things around since some of the men came into brothels for the sole purpose of stealing. Remi even told you a story about how one of her clients tried to steal one of her panites, but then the boy named Ken stopped him by knocking him out with one punch to the stomach.   

“He sounds strong-” you laughed as they gave you a small tour 

“He sure is! Like the bodyguard of this place! He’s a sweetheart!” said Remi smiling 

“I’m sure..!” you smiled 

“Alright that’s about it, you should shower now and get ready for tomorrow. The boss will probably wanna take a look at you before seeing if he wants you. But I'm sure he will! You're pretty so it’ll go smoothly!” said Remi handing you her shower stuff for you to use for tonight and a set 

“Got it, and again...thank you so much. I really appreciate it.” you said again 

“Of course! Remember..we’re neighbors so feel free to knock whenever you need something..Also I can give you some tips before your first client so you know what to do.” she said smiling 

“Right, goodnight then!..” you said feeling your face get hot at how she so easily talked about sex. 

After that, you did exactly as she said, you showered. You thoroughly washed your body, face, and hair. Getting out you looked down at the set Remi gave you. It was just a black bra and matching panties with a silk cover up which made you feel better knowing you could cover up with that.  

You rubbed your mouth as you started to rethink your decision. I mean...you respected sex workers..but was this life what you were willing to settle for? Aimlessly waiting around for some random horny man to choose you and do things with you just for you to get only 40% of the payment? Was this all really worth it? Leaving home to avoid your problems...to end up here? You were grateful, yes, Remi and Rema were so sweet and open with you. You could only hope that the others were just as nice. You really wanted things to go well, and that can only start with some good rest. 

You woke up to a knock on your door, to see Remi and Rema walking in with a smile 

“Morninggg!” they sang as you quickly got out of bed 

“Hi!” you said frantically 

“No need to rush! Usually men start coming in at 10, but since you don't work here officially yet you got to sleep in a bit! But the boss called for you, you should go to the set up room down the hall to get ready, remember it?” asked Rema 

“Yeah I do. Thank you for waking me-!” you said smiling and grabbing your stuff and shoes 

“Course, good luck Y/n!” they said as you quickly walked out of your room to get ready 

As you walked in, there were a few other girls getting ready. You smiled and introduced yourself to them, and them to you. They were all so nice and pretty. It made you feel a little bit better about being here, and less nervous since they complimented your looks. You got ready in about 10 minutes, letting one of the other girls help you out with your hair and stuff like that. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror before stepping out and waving to the girls ‘bye.’ 

You nervously walked to the boss's door. You took a deep breath before knocking. You heard a muffled ‘come in!’ so you walked in smiling while holding your covering close. You gave a nervous closed eyes smile before seeing his office was simple, just a desk with a bunch of papers and a chair on the other side. 

“Y/n, correct?” he asked placing down his paper and taking off his glasses to look at you

“Yes.” you said smiling 

“Pleasure-” he said leaning over the desk to shake your hand 

“Likewise.” you said smiling, shaking his hand firmly before sitting down

“Well, I’m sure Remi and Rema told you just about everything you need to know, I take 60% of your earrings, I use that stuff to pay for rent and bills for you girls and my kid… which usually takes up about 30% of that 60%, meaning you make a profit of 40, while I make only a profit of 30 per girl.” he said 

“Yeah, I was told.” you said smiling nervously fiddling with your hands

“Good good, now that that's over with..” he said getting up ad signing 

“I’m just gonna take a look at you, no need to be nervous I’m not gonna touch you or anything, so please don’t feel worried.” he said smiling 

“Right!” you said getting up 

“Alright just do a quick 360 with arms up.” he said smiling 

“Okay.” you said doing as he said 

He looked you up and down but not in a lustful way at all, it was more of like a ‘just seeing how you’ll hold up’ kinda look, almost like he was a bit worried for you. 

“Thank you-” he said sitting back down as you did the same feeling nervous

“I was also told you’re 18? Right?” he asked looking down at his papers 

“Yeah that's right.” you said 

“Well I don't usually have this talk with the other woman because they're older. I know the age of consent in Japan is 16 and blah blah, but you’re still pretty young, are you sure you wanna work like this?” he asked looked into your eyes 

“...Not entirely but it’s the best I can do right now.” you said with a determined face

“I see- we’ll then welcome, and just remember you can leave whenever you want, but give a 2 weeks notice. When Remi is done, ask her to take your picture.” he said 

“Understood, thank you!” you said said smiling and leaving   

You walked out of the room, closing the door carefully signing in relieve 

That went pretty well.

You thought 

You started to walk down the hall so that you could ask Remi to take your picture. But when you put your ear to the door, you heard lewd noises letting you know she wasn’t done just yet. It was already 5, and the brothel closes at 10. You didn’t really know what to do, so you walked over to the kitchen, sitting down at one of the stools waiting for Remi and or Rema to finish up with their work. You tapped the pen that was on the table and started to look around the kitchen. You remembered Remi told you there were snacks in the cabinets, so you got up and started to open and close them one by one to find something to eat. You finally found a cabinet filled instant ramen, you grabbed one and started to pour water into it, popping it into the microwave that was on the counter top. You stood in front of it waiting, playing with the loose strings of you covering when suddenly you heard the door open. 

“I’m home.” said the tall boy with dark hair tied back to reveal a dragon tattoo on the side of his head 

Is this Ken? 

You thought as the microwave beeped, making his eyes turn to you

You quickly shot your eyes to the microwave, hoping he didn’t notice your stare. He looked so familiar it was almost irritating how you couldn’t remember him. You took the hot cup out of the microwave, placing it down on the counter top, ignoring his presence as he walked over, placing down the plastic bag in his hand, noticing your frustrated face trying to figure out where the utensils are. 

“Left of the sink are where they are.” he said sitting down on the stool across from you after looking at your face a bit 

“Thank you.” you said smiling nervously turning around to grab a pair of chopsticks 

“Are you new here?” he asked taking out a styrofoam box from the plastic bag, opening it to reveal a hot meal of meat and rice and vegetables 

“Yeah..I was supposed to start today but I don’t have my pictures taken yet.” you said smiling turning back to mix your noodles 

“Could you grab me a pair too?” he asked realizing he forgot to take a pair of chopsticks from the restaurant 

“Sure-” you said turning back quickly to grab some for him, placing it in his hands as he gave you a soft smile making your eyes widen slightly. 

“You look familiar..” you both said at the same time making both your eyebrows raise in shock then turn into a slight scoff from the both of you 

“Glad we’re on the same page then.” he said taking a bite of his food as you did the same still standing 

“You know you can sit down, don’t feel nervous.” he said looking up you slightly 

“..yeah.” you said smiling, walking around and sitting next to him. 

“So when’d you come?” he asked turning his head slightly to see your mouth filled with noodles making him smile a bit 

“..I came by last night, really late with Remi and Rema.” you said after finishing your bite

“I see...I feel like I remember you from somewhere, can’t pinpoint it though.” he said looking back down at his food 

“Same here, and you must be Ken though, right? When I first heard your name I swore the same thing but I just can’t remember..” you said before sipping some of the broth of your soup

“Yeah, but you can call me Draken and your name?” he asked getting up to grab a napkin from across the table 

“Draken...sure! Oh right, my bad. It’s Y/n. Nice to meet you-” you said smiling holding your hand out for him to shake

He only completely shot up to look into your eyes with his wide ones. You gave him a confused look as you watched him get knocked out of his thoughts, bring his hand up to shake your hand before clearing his throat and walking back over to sit. Maybe you struck a nerve? Maybe had the same name as someone who hurt him in the past? You really didn’t know but it made you feel interested. He looked like he just had his life flash before his eyes or something. 

“Are you okay?” you asked 

“Uh yeah, I’m fine. My head just hurts a bit.” he said looking as if he was deep in thought 

“Oh? I have some tylenol in my room.. You want one? Or I can make you a cold drink, you’re probably dehydrated?” you asked smiling a bit 

Draken turned his head to look at you, his mouth was parted, and he just looked so..anxious? You couldn’t even tell, almost like congested because he wanted to say something. 

Draken felt his heartbeat quicken when he heard your name. As soon as you said it, a random memory that was buried deep in the back of his mind hit him as he quickly re-lived it. But could it really be you? The Y/n he knew from so so so long ago? Around 10 years ago? There could be no way, he remembers the girl moving to a different city..the chances were so low that it could really be you already. 

But the second you said those words.. Those words of offering to make something for him, or give him something, despite you thinking you only just met him...Made him know that it was really the Y/n he met when he was only a little boy...but how the hell did you turn up here? In a place and part of town like this? He was so confused and just wanted to ask you...but you still didn’t remember him. 

“..No I’m alright, thanks..can I ask you somethin-” said Draken before being interrupted 

“Y/n!! Come on, let's take your pictures!” yelled Remi coming out of her room waving as a man walked out too buttoning his shirt 

“Sorry, just remember what you wanted to say and tell me later.” you said smiling and standing up and walking over to Remi

Draken watched you as you walked away. He saw Remi give you a hug, and the man that was walking out checked you out to which Draken gave him a pissed off look. Making the man smile nervously, wave, and leave. 

Do you really wanna live your life like this, Y/n?

He thought to himself before packing up his trash and throwing it away

Remi took your pictures, telling you to do different poses etc, and you finally settled on one. You walked over to the front of the house to place your picture in its designated area above your name. You signed, stepping back to look at it, fixing your gaze to see Draken was walking over with his hands in his pocket, looking as he was going to leave. You saw him glance at the photo making you feel slightly embarrassed.

“Nice.” he said smiling but looking into your eyes in a way where it looked like he was concerned for you. 

Just as you were about to thank him a man walked in and started looking at you making you feel nervous. The man requested you, and so you smiled at him pointing your hand to where the showers were, as you started to walk behind him, you turned your hand giving a thumbs up to Draken with a nervously flushed face, smiling, as he he brought his hand up giving you a thumbs up with soft and concerning eyes before opening the door and leaving. It made your smile fade slightly, you’ve seen that face before from him. But not from today.. And it was all you could think about during your work. 

As you laid in your room, after work you couldn’t help but feel a little bit...stupid? You felt so unsatisfied, not because of your customers but because you just couldn’t remember. It felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch hard enough, and with every interaction you had with the boy almost felt like a tease, like the itch just became more itchy and your scratches just became more weak. Maybe if you spend more time with him, you’ll remember? 

It had been about 4 weeks, 4 weeks of saving your money, and every 4 weeks the boss collected his fair share of the cut. It wasn’t a pretty 4 weeks, it was probably the worst 4 weeks of your life. But... you and Draken would often exchange stories about your lives late at night which you enjoyed a lot. It always makes you feel better. But yet again you still couldn't figure him out. You felt as though you’ve met him before, and as though you two have had these kinds of talks before. 

Draken only grew more and more helpless, seeing how you still haven’t remembered. He was slowly watching your life crumble. He felt so angry that you settled and believed you deserved to live like this, barely scraping by. He felt so awful, and saw how you grew so tired of it all. He just so badly wanted you to remember him, so that he could once again talk to you like he did before.

You had one last customer before closing, going through your usual routine, this n that, the man offered you a drink. You stupid obliged drinking it, hoping it would make your time more enjoyable but you were wrong, so very wrong, and so very stupid for drinking that stupid drink. You remember some parts, you did your job, then it all went black.. You woke up after hearing knocking on your door. You jumped out of bed, confused. You remember seeing the man leave as you started to fall asleep but that's about it. Usually you never fall asleep after the work because you never do much, your mind started to panic. But the door opened revealing Remi smiling.

“Hey sleepy! Boss says it’s your turn, come on, get your cash!” she said smiling 

“Right let me just..it’s in my drawer..I don't know why I fell asleep so fast I think alcohol makes me sleepy.” you said getting out of bed and kneeling in front of your drawer to get the envelope of cash you had been saving.

“Heh, same here. I never accepted drinks from clients..they never had good intentions with that!” she said coming over and sitting at your bed 

“..yeah.” you said starting to feel that panic arise in your body when seeing the envelope was...gone.

“What's wrong?” asked Remi noticing you were frozen 

“I- the money..It’s gone..he took it..” you said with wide eyes feeling as though you were about to sob realizing you had just lost thousands of yen.

“Don’t say that..it..it probably just got misplaced! Come on, I'll help you look!” said Remi getting up  

You couldn't even respond because of the amount of panic you were in. Your heart was racing and you felt tears fall from your eyes. After about 15 minutes of looking, you two found nothing. Absolutely nothing. You sat on the floor with your hand over your mouth, again, trying to keep a level head. 

What now..?

You thought to yourself feeling hot tears stream from your face.

“Hey..guys? Boss is calling for you Y/n..what’s going on?” asked Rema walking in seeing you covering your face, crying 

“She was robbed by the guy who just left, he put something in her drink to knock her out while he looked around and took the money...she doesn’t have the money.” said Remi 

Rema’s mouth parted in shock and pity. 

How could you mess up something so easy? All you had to do was keep your money safe. But you even failed at that. 

“You have to tell him, Y/n.” said Rema rubbing your back

“Yea..yeah, could you two just give me a second? I’ll be right out.” you said smiling while wiping your face 

“Sure.” they said frowning and walking out 

You fisted your hands, and grabbed your covers before screaming into them to muffle your sounds..

Okay..it was a couple of thousand yen...not too bad right? I can promise the money by tomorrow..I’ll pick up some sort of street job...yeah! That’s good. Everything is fine..it’s fine.

You thought to yourself before wiping your face on more time and slapping both sides of your cheeks to wake you up.

You got up and walked to the bosses door feeling the eyes of people on your back. You knocked on the door before opening it slowly, refusing to make eye contact as you went to stand in front of the man with your arms behind your back.

“Alrighttt, let’s see here, in the last four weeks you had a total of 37 customers, so you should have around 300,000 yen, correct?” he asked looking at his paper 

“Yes.” you said still looking down

“Alright, just hand it to me so I can count and divide it, you can sit.” he said smiling holding his hand out 

“I..I don-” you said before being interrupted by a knock 

“Come in.” he said 

“Hey sorry dad, Y/n left her money with me while she went out. Thought I should bring it to her. Remember, Y/n?” said Draken walking in with an envelop in his hand smiling as he came to stand next to you, as you nodded your head ‘yes’ 

“Oh, thank you Ken.” he said smiling and taking the envelop 

Your mouth parted as you gave a confused look, Draken only smiled and gave you a thumbs up while his dad counted the money. You felt so guilty and shocked, and all you could do was just stand there, like an idiot. 

“Here you are...120,000 back..” he said, patting the money on the table to make it flat, putting it back into the envelope and handing it to you

You hesitantly brought your hand to grab it, glancing over at Draken who gave you small smile

“Thank you-” you said to him seeing Draken was already opening the door to leave 

You quickly followed after him as he walked into his room. Before entering his room he turned around and looked down at you 

You felt your eyes soften as you felt as though you were about to cry again, you tilted your head and neck down biting the inside of your cheek to keep in your cry. 

“I promise I’ll pay all of it back by tomorrow, all 300,000.” you said 

“Do you ever give yourself a break?” he asked as you brought your head up to look at him seeing he looked almost irritated 

“You didn’t even ask why I did it, you just immediately jumped to feeling guilty. And you don’t need to pay me back. Really.” he said bringing his hand to close to the door, but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist making his breath hitch 

“Why?” you asked looking into his eyes 

“You still don’t remember? Even after all this time we’ve spent together?” he asked smiling as you took your hand off his wrist 

“Remember...?” you asked furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, but then it suddenly hit you

“I swear it wasn’t me! I didn't steal!” yelled a little boy with blonde hair as two cops stood in front of him 

You tilted your head and walked closer, but still keeping your distance to hear. It was a winter day and you were on your way to the corner store to buy some snacks, but you were met with an interesting scene. You kept your hands in your pockets as you listened over to the boy screaming and pleading his innocence 

“I wouldn’t steal something so stupid! What would a kid like me need a lighter for!! I don’t know how it ended up in my pocket! Lay off!” he yelled as the officer dangled the lighter in front of his face

A lighter?

“Keep it down! We know how troubled you kids are here! Especially with those tattoos!” yelled back the cop as the boy grew angry and fisted his hands, ready to punch the cop

“Hey!!!” he heard a voice yelled 

“Hey wait a minute!” you yelled waving your hand smiling as you ran to the scene 

“Can we help you?” asked one of the cops in a soft tone 

The blonde boy grew quiet, and you saw his hands loosen as he looked at your smiling face 

“Yeah, why are you two yelling at my brother?” you asked furrowing your brows at the two grown man 

“...Your so-called brother stole a lighter from the corner store right behind you, where are your parents? We would like to have a word with them.” he said standing up straight 

“Yeah, and talk about how they let their son tattoo himself already..” said one under his breath making the other laugh 

You looked over at the boy growing angry, you gave him a smile..making him calm down.

“He said it was just an accident, I asked him to pick up a lighter from the store so that we could light a candle at our father’s grave! See!” you said digging into your bag to pull out a candle 

“He probably felt pressured because I asked him to get it, so if you’re gonna get mad at someone, get mad at me!” you said as you started to fake cry 

“It’s our father's death anniversary, and you're yelling at kids for making a mistake.” you faked cried

“Yeah!!” yelled the boy making you smile under your hands as the two officers became anxious, feeling bad for what they had just done.

“..we’re sorry. Please let us apologize.” they said slightly bowing at you two 

“I don’t think we can accept it...you two also made fun of the dragon tattoo on his head!...dragons were our dads favorite animal. He risked his life fighting for Japan and you two are laughing at him! Is that how your mother taught you how to behave?” you asked pretending to wipe you tears as the blonde boy watched you in awe seeing you toy with grown men 

“Please let us treat you both to whatever you’d like from the corner store as an apology!” they both said bowing lower making you smile and look back at the boy. You gave him a thumbs up as a smile grew on his face 

“Fine..come on then?” you said as both the officers raised their heads, opening the doors of the corner store for you both 

You and the blonde boy walked around the store, filling your baskets with all types of things. The blonde boy watched you in just pure awe as you walked around picking your favorite snacks, as he did the same, glancing at you every now and then. 

“Here.” you said smiling at the cops 

“Right!” they said frantically taking out their wallets as the boy placed down his stuff nervously, still watching you

“Oh and-” you said reaching your hand to grab the lighter from the officer and placing it into the bunch of snacks 

You smiled, your hands were behind your back as you watched the officers pay for yours and the boys' food, placing them into bags for you guys too. You grabbed the lighter and your bag, as the boy did the same 

“Mom told us to meet her at the cemetery steps, remember?” you said looking into the boys eyes

“..yeah, I remember.” he said smiling feeling his face become hot 

“Let’s go then.” you said smiling and taking his hand as you two ran out of the store 

After a bit you two stopped and sat on the curbside while you both chose a snack to eat.  

“Here’s your lighter, you don’t have to stay with me by the way.” you said handing him the steel lighter 

“..Thanks” he said 

“Sure- what do you need it for anyway?” you asked smiling 

���My boss asked for it.” he said putting it in his pocket

“Oh, are you in some type of delinquent group?” you asked looking at him 

“Yeah..” he said smiling 

“That's cool, what do you guys do?” you asked taking a sip of your drink 

“We kinda just...like...do stupid stuff and fight..” he said 

“Sounds fun, but...stupid.” you said laughing making him scoff 

“Why’d you do it?” he asked 

“Do what?” you asked back turning you gaze to him 

“Come in to cover me. You could’ve gotten in a lot of trouble because of me.” he said with a frustrated face 

“You’re right, I just wanted to, that's all.” you said smiling making his mouth part and cheeks redden

“You seem pretty fun too so I thought we could be friends or something..” you said nervously 

“Yeah! Sure- We can be friends!” he said happily making you feel flustered 

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, my name is Y/n, yours?” you asked holding over your hand 

“Ken, but you can call me Draken-” he said taking ahold of your hand gently as you gave him a closed eyed smile blushing 

“where the hell did you find that candle and com up with that whole sob story Y/n?”

“Dunno, I saw the candle on the ground by a newspaper, I kinda just winged it- “

After that day you remember hanging out with Draken almost every other day. You remember him telling you how he and his close friends started their own gang and needed some sort of funding, and so you gave it to him, on his birthday.

“I saved up! You said that you and your friends needed some money to start off so that you guys could buy a flag or banner? Right? Well, here’s 30,000 yen for your birthday!” you said handing him an envelope and a small balloon.

“Are-are you serious right now Y/n?” he asked taking the gifts, opening the envelope to look inside to see the money as his eyes lit up 

“Yeah, I babysit more kids now so I was able to put some aside for you.” you said smiling satisfied with his reaction 

He didn’t even say anything, all he did was bring his arms around you upper body, hugging you tight making you laugh as you brought yours to hug him back 

“Thank you- you’re the best! The guys will be so happy!” he said smiling while grasping your wrists in excitement. Your eyes traced over his face as they soften. You smiled. 

“Likewise.” 

And- after that, you remember the day you 2 separated as friends. You both sat on the curbside, you remembered you called him to come and see you. It was a winter night and the sun was going down. 

“I uh..well I don’t really know how to say this without sounding cliche but-”

“What? Are you gonna confess that you’re madly in love with me or something?” he asked grinning, making you sweat drop 

“Jeez be quiet...I’m trying to make this a memorable moment-” you signed smiling, placing your palms on the cold cement 

“Alright let’s hear it then Y/n-!” he said bringing his hands to the back of his head as he laid down looking up at the stars 

You only frowned slightly, you shifted your position so that you could sit beside him and have a good look at his face. 

“You’re scaring me..” he said jokingly making you smile 

“It was really fun the past year.” you said smiling as Draken shot his head up to look at you face to face 

“The hell are you talking like that for?” he asked furrowing his brows 

“My parents can’t afford living in any districts in Tokyo anymore, so we’re moving to another city… about 4 hours train ride from Tokyo so-” you said looking down at your hands on the floor

“So? You act like I won't be able to come and see you or you come and see me..” he said ducking his head a bit so that you could look at him 

“Draken, train tickets are about 220 yen per person, I can't afford it, and if you came by to see me I'd feel guilty because you’d be wasting your money just to only see me for like an hour.” you said 

“How can I be wasting my money on you? It’s not wasting if I wanna do it and see you, plus what makes you think it'll only be a couple hours?” he asked 

“I’ll have to start working once we get there, so I wouldn’t have anytime...I wanna start saving so that one day I can come back to Tokyo and live here, so that I can see your dream come true of helping your friend create a ‘new era of delinquents’ you know? I’ll even help you guys if you want with financial stuff or something.” you said smiling at him 

Draken bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to tell you so bad how he felt but..

“Look, I have a feeling I know what you’re gonna say..just remember what you wanted to say and tell me later, okay?” you said placing your hand on top of his causing his eyes to widen 

“...You’ll remember me, right?” he asked looking into your eyes deeply making your mouth part 

“Yeah, I’ll remember you as long as you remember what you wanted to tell me. Cause I feel the same” you said smiling as a tear fell from your eyes 

“good...I will.” he said smiling back and tilting his head and wiping it off your face

After the memories hit you, you stood there with wide eyes and tears, with your wrist covering your quivering mouth. You had completely suppressed your memories of Draken, and your feelings because you knew you wouldn't be able handle being apart from him for so long. And he did the same. You couldn’t imagine how unbearable it was for him to be waiting up like this. You looked up at him seeing his eyes were softly looking at you. You could do nothing but bring your arms around him hugging him, as he brought his arms around you to do the same. You were still such in shock. 

“I never thought you’d end up in a place like this, living a life like this.” he said against your ear 

“I don’t wanna see you like this, please let me take care of you like you did for me..” he said said tightening his grip slightly  

You could only cry at his words, you didn’t even wanna try to speak because you knew it would only come out as a sob. Was it really alright for you to rely on someone so much?

He pulled back from the hug and looked at your face, seeing you were still crying as you nodded your head ‘yes’, he smiled and wiped them away with his thumb. The smile on his face...he looked so satisfied...and happy...happy that you finally remembered. Finally remembered him.

[stylesberries]

Vegan Cupcakes

Summary: You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.

Genre(s): angst (happy ending)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warning(s): angsty stuff, ~foul language~

You and Harry have been quarantined together for several months now and, despite the difficulty and the severity of the situation, you as a couple are having the time of your lives.

Harry was definitely disappointed and upset about not being able to go touring with Fine Line, but the second he heard the news he thought of you.

He has been donating a lot of money and supplies for those in need of it or unemployed while you took your university classes online.

Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.

In the beginning.

Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.

“Baby?” You call for him from the kitchen.

Harry rolls his eyes as you, once again, interrupted his flow of thoughts. He gets up from the couch he was laying on peacefully before and walks towards the kitchen, where you are standing holding up a paper so big it covers your whole face.

“Yes?” Harry asks, trying his best not to come out too rough. You placed the paper on the kitchen island in front of you to look up at Harry. You didn’t pay close attention to his annoyance; you were too busy brainstorming what proportion of flour to sugar to take for your vegan cupcakes.

“Harry, do you think I should take 1:2? Like twice as much flour? Or do you want the cupcakes to be sweeter?” Harry watched you ramble, crossing his arms, feeling ~this~ close to bursting. “Or do you think the cupcakes shouldn’t be that sweet because they’ll have sweet icing on top?” You ket throwing question after question at your fuming boyfriend, still oblivious of his irritation.

“Or maybe we should make them both mildly sweet?” Shut up.

“They will be chocolate anyway, right?” Shut up.

“Would you prefer dark chocola-”

“Y/N, shut up already! Can you stop fucking rambling? My head is going to explode from your talking.” Harry explodes, not letting you finish your question, the excited smile leaving your face.

You felt your head being squeezed from sides, pressure increasing at your temples.

“What?” You ask, hoping that you misheard him, knowing deep down that you didn’t because the Harry you knew and loved would never say such a hurtful thing.

“I said shut up. My brain is buzzing from your talking. Do whatever you fucking want.” Harry said and walked out of the kitchen before you could say something to him.

Thinking that he probably isn’t in a good mood and certainly needs space from your rambling you stay back in the kitchen and go back to your recipe with a broken heart and wet eyes. Your hands shake as you brought the paper back up to your face, failing to read any of the words and measurements through a layer of tears that were collected in your eyes.

Even when you were fighting he had never said anything so mean to you before, especially after he found out that your whole life people have been discouraging you from talking, so you closed off and spoke up only when you were directly called out for not saying anything. It took Harry a couple of months to finally get you to open up to him and talk to him without feeling guilty for it. He used to love it when you rambled on and on about things you’re passionate about. At least that’s what you thought.

You spend the next hour making the batter for your cupcakes and baking them, which only took about fifteen minutes. You felt encouraged to go up to Harry when you smelled the chocolate cupcakes fresh out of the oven.

“I’ll put a couple on a plate.” You spoke to yourself placing the freshly baked cupcakes on Harry’s favorite flower plate. “Just like that.”

Talking to yourself was a way you brushed your nervousness and anxiety away. Harry would catch you talking to your reflection millions of times, just standing and secretly watching you sometimes with a wide smile plastered on his face.

You placed the plate on the tray you brought from your trip to Italy and poured Harry some black coffee, placing it next to the warm plate. You picked the tray up and walked out of the kitchen, making sure to watch your elbows at the doorway.

Making your way towards the living room, where you expected Harry to be, you spotted no grumpy boyfriends there.

“He’s probably in the studio.” You spoke to yourself, refusing to let Harry’s bad mood discourage you.

Harry would rarely hide from you in the studio when you’re fighting, usually he would face you and solve the issue before it grows and hurts you even more, so it was unusual for him to run off there.

You brushed the thought off and watched towards the studio door. As you walked closer you could hear Harry talking to someone, but knowing that there is no one home except you two, you understood that he’s talking on the phone with someone. You stood at the door, turning to the side to place the tray on the floor, freeing your hands to turn back to the door and knock, as you didn’t want to interrupt any important calls or interviews that Harry could have with your talking.

Before your knuckles hit the door, you heard Harry’s voice.

“Man, I mean she’s always next to me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t wait for her to go back to uni for me to get some air.” Harry whines. Your heart stops before going back to beating at a higher rate, full of anxiety.

“Yeah, right! It just feels as if she’s been dreaming of being touchy-feely with someone and now that I’m finally home she can’t get herself off of me.” Harry kept stabbing your heart and laughed at something the person on the phone said.

With every word, you felt more and more empty. You started walking away from the door, bending over to take the tray with yourself not to leave any traces behind.

How could he say something like that?

I thought he loved me.

You didn’t know what you were doing. Your legs moved on their own and you just followed along, tears leaking from your eyes’ inner corners, tracing a way down to your chin. The salty trail wasn’t getting a chance to dry as new tears followed the same path as the ones before did.

When your body reached the kitchen your shaking hands placed the tray on the counter, Harry’s coffee slightly spilling on the tray.

Pain.

Never before have you thought than sadness could physically hurt so much; it hurt like a bitch.

You placed the tray on the table for Harry to find later and walked out of the kitchen to go back to your bedroom to cry in your pillow while he keeps complaining about you to his friend.

Harry came to bed in a couple of hours closer to the evening after looking for you all over the house to apologize for his rough words. When he saw you laying on your side of the bed, your knees pushed up to your chest, the duvet hardly doing its job keeping you covered and warm, he felt guilt running through his veins.

Walking up to his side, pressing a knee on the mattress first, Harry scooted over to you and pulled the duvet to cover you up. He let his arm stay on the duvet wrapping around your fragile form. He moved his upper body closer to yours, his chest pressing against your duvet-covered back.

“Baby?” Harry spoke softly, cautious not to wake you up. When no answer followed he frowned and positioned his face into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses on your neck.

“I’m sorry about earlier, baby. I was very mean to you.” He spoke against your soft skin. “I shouldn’t have exploded like that. It wasn’t fair to you.”

Harry’s apologies kept following one after another and you stayed silent, keeping your act on. You would’ve believed every word of his if only you haven’t heard him say the things he said about you to someone else.

You kept your eyes closed. Harry’s apologies subsided as he slowly fell asleep cuddled into your back. You stayed up that night, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. You wished for the pain inside to leave with your tears but it stayed, eating you from inside, until sunrise when you fell asleep from the emotional exhaustion.

When you woke up, Harry was no longer lying next to you and you were thankful for it. You really hoped that he wouldn’t bring yesterday up, even though you knew he would because he never got to apologize to you awake.

Your stomach growled and you remember that you never got to have dinner the day before, falling asleep drowning in your own sadness.

You quickly got up to sneakily walk down to the kitchen, but you were disappointed to have smelled Harry’s signature chocolate waffles in the air. With your shoulders slumped in defeat you walked down the stairs towards your kitchen.

As you walked through the doorway of the kitchen you saw Harry placing the brown waffles onto serving plates and adding sliced strawberries on top. You stopped your heart from fluttering because you, unfortunately, knew more than you’d prefer to know about how your boyfriend actually feels about you.

Harry felt someone’s eyes on him and turned around to be greeted by your indifferent self. He felt his heart sink as he read the hurt from the day before engraved on the surface of your face. Harry kept fidgeting about the table trying to let you pass to sit in your place next to him and placed the plate of waffles in front of you.

“I made you your favorite, baby.” He spoke unsure of how you would react to any words that left his mouth.

You fought the desire to bite into the warm chocolate waffles that your belly was craving after crying all night long and being left hungry for so many hours and walked up to the counter to get yourself a couple of your ill-fated cupcakes.

You couldn’t see Harry’s head lowering as you dashed his hopes to make it better. Little did Harry know you weren’t upset about his outburst about the cupcakes yesterday, so a couple of waffles won’t help to glue together the ruins of your heart that he shattered.

As you bit into the cupcakes, you stood at the counter facing away from the table, Harry took no bites of his breakfast, staring at your back helplessly. Suddenly he felt small and didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry about yesterday, Y/N. I acted like a piece of shit. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” His lips moved as his eyes watched your back for any reaction coming from you, his voice coming out soft and weak.

You stood there, your eyes glossy and your lips curving down in a frown, as you fought back the tears. Harry doesn’t have a single idea of how much pain he’s caused you and how none of these stupid apologies will ever fix the cracks that he left in your heart. You looked over your shoulder at Harry’s similar-to-yours state and hesitated whether or not to open up to him. Harry looked into your eyes with his and held a breath, hoping that you would figure things out. Your eyes broke the eye contact by looking down and speaking up.

“It’s okay.” You spoke and abandoned your plate, walking out of the kitchen, Harry’s eyes observing your every movement.

For the next couple of days, you stayed away from Harry and things were pretty cold between you. Harry would come up to you every day trying to apologize but you wouldn’t let him finish any of those times, leaving the room right away. Hurt was eating you from inside and you didn’t care what he had to say. Harry chose to sleep in the guest bedroom not to make you uncomfortable and you thanked him for it.

As time went by, you cooled down and felt better yourself. Harry gave you all the space you needed and it helped your healing process. You still hurt but you could talk to him now at least. Things went back to normal in most ways except one: you would stop yourself from expressing any kind of affection to Harry and he wouldn’t say anything but it drove him insane. He didn’t know why you wouldn’t kiss or snuggle him like you used to. You also started talking less because of your fight and Harry noticed every single change in your behavior and beat himself up for it.

“Y/N.” Harry walked into the bedroom with an i-can’t-do-this-anymore face on. Your eyes had to abandon the indulging book you were reading as Harry closed the door behind him, which meant he was determined to finally face the difficulty of the situation. Noticing the mood in the room change to a serious one, you placed the book on the bedside table and crossed your legs under the duvet, focusing all of your attention on your restless boyfriend with arms crossed.

“Mhm?” You ask, waiting for him to spit out whatever he’s been putting aside for almost two weeks.

“I’m sorry for that fight, okay? I really am, sweetheart. You haven’t been the same since then and it scares me. I didn’t mean to go off at you like that. You didn’t deserve it at all. I was exhausted and felt shitty myself and took it out on you. It’s not an excuse to yell at you and be so mean, I understand and I’m sorry, beautiful. It was a mistake and it won’t happen again, I promise. Please forgive me, Y/N.” Harry spoke so desperately, his emotions all over the place. He started gesticulating, which you knew meant that he was anxious and frustrated.

“I’m not mad at that, Harry. I forgave you.” You spoke the truth; Harry looked at you with even more frustration behind his now-glossy eyes.

“But you don’t even touch me anymore! You don’t kiss me! You don’t even want to be near-” Harry lets all of his insecurities out, oblivious to the flow of your own that you prepare to pour on him. You couldn’t sit there and listen to him accuse you of being neglectful towards him so you broke in to speak yourself.

“You don’t want me to be around you anymore! You said that yourself! You-you said-” Your voice cracks as tears build up in the corners of your eyes. It became hard to talk. “-said I’m always next to you and you need some space from me always being there.”

The tears that were collecting in your eyes were streaming down your cheeks, Harry’s glance reflecting off of them. Harry couldn't understand what you were referring to but kept listening to you.

“And you didn’t even have the guts to tell me yourself. You whined about how annoying I am to your friend, embarrassing me. It’s supposed to be something kept between us two, not discussed with your friends.” Every word stabbed his heart in same places as it did yours.

Harry’s mind went straight to the call you were talking about. He felt his intestines turn into a knot inside of him, causing him to feel nauseous. He felt like an asshole. It was fair because he was one indeed.

I hurt her.

You don’t want to be around me anymore.

Does she really think that?

You need space from me.

My baby. My angel.

What a fucking piece of shit am I to hurt my precious love like this.

You saw right through Harry’s sudden self-hatred despite the two layers of salty tears between your eyes and his.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry’s apologies filled the room, as pain continued to fill his soul.

“I hurt you. I’m so fucking sorry. It was so wrong to share something so personal with anyone except you. I didn’t even know what I was saying. I can’t live without you.” Harry’s cries became louder and louder as his regret first doubled and then tripled in size. “Your hands, your lips, your beautiful eyes - I can’t live without those things on me constantly. I was such a fool to think that I needed space from you. You’re the love of my life! I love you so fucking much. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. I-” Harry's voice was cut by him having to take deep breaths to keep himself together. He placed a hand over his chest breathing in deeply.

You ripped the blanket off of yourself watching Harry closely, getting ready to sprint to his inhaler in case he needs it. Harry saw your reaction to his heavy breathing and rose his hand to gesture that he’s okay. You let out a relieved sign and scooted closer to the end of the bed where Harry stood. When he caught up with his breathing he looked down at you, moving to get on his knees in front of the bed. Harry’s hands flew up to cup your cheeks softly, giving you time to stop him if you wanted to.

“I love you so much, baby. I can’t express how sorry I am to hurt you so much. I don’t need any space from you. I can’t function properly without you on me all the time, without you wrapped in my arms.” Harry spoke and tears kept running down his face. You watched his eyes jump from one side of your face to the other, trying to absorb every single line and curve of your face.

“Fuck, I’ve missed looking at you so fucking much,” Harry speaks up, his face frowning as new tears start flowing out of his eyes. The frown on Harry’s face became more prominent as he understood the severity of the pain he had caused you.

”It’s all my fault.” Harry cries, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, your arms wrapping around him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Harry kept apologizing the whole night and many days after, not letting you walk further than an arm length away from him. It took him a lot of effort to kick the insecurities that he birthed out of your head, but he kept proving himself to you over and over again.

He is an arrogant son of a bitch, but nonetheless he loves you more than himself.

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[cocochannel00]

Things that Husband!Harry would definitely do (a thread)

(If you don’t think that Tiny Desk Harry doesn’t give off mad husband!harry vibes - he looks so fluffy- then we can’t be friends)

- He’d sneak into your room the night before the wedding because he missed you even though he knows its bad luck and when you’re mad at him for it he would just smile and place a kiss on your forehead and say “I don’t need any luck, I just need you”

- At your wedding reception he would walk around the room introducing you to everyone as “my wife” as if they didn’t already know who you were 

- During your wedding dinner he’d spend the whole night whispering dirty jokes in your ear trying to make you laugh because he knew that even though it was your wedding day you were still spooked by all of the attention

- On your first year anniversary Harry wanted to surprise you by making you breakfast in bed so he started making pancakes as you slept. You woke up to the sound of your fire alarm going off and Harry blowing the smoke off a pan with a pillow. He’d give you a sheepish smile before mumbling a “maybe we get takeout this year?”

- During the holidays he’d hang mistletoe all around your house and force you to kiss him at every one. “Look love it’s mistletoe, you know what that means” he’d state with a grin. “Harry I just kissed you literally 2 minutes ago in the other room” you’d grumble “Doesn’t matter love, it’s mistletoe and those are the rules. Now come here and kiss your husband”

- Anytime the two of you would get into any sort of major fight where you would say “I hate you” he would shoot back “Well I love you so I guess you’re stuck with me” before going to sulk on the couch

- Whenever you went to his shows or stayed with him on tour he would force you to sit back stage and watch him from the wings so he could watch your reaction to his corny jokes and steal a kiss from you in between sets and on his bathroom breaks

- You agreed to be the designated drive for your group for a night out so Harry gets drunk and becomes extra clingy. He spends the entire night stuck to your side, shoving his face in your neck whispering “I’m going to marry you one day” to which you’d remind him quietly that you were already married. He’d then nod thoughtfully and mumbled “Well then I’m going to marry you again just in case” 

- One night you would be tossing and turning in bed unable to sleep and you would accidentally wake up Harry. You’d apologies because you knew he had to wake up early the next day, but he would just shush you with a quick peck before repositioning you so that you could lay your head on his chest. He’d then softly start humming the tune to one of the new songs he was working on until you’d fall asleep

- Harry would convince you that he was capable of building the Ikea coat rack the two of you had bought for your new home on his own so you’d go into the room next door to take a nap. When you woke up and hour later you found him laying on the floor facetiming Mitch as he tried to figure out why the last piece wasn’t fitting properly only for you to look at it and realize he had built half of it backwards

- Harry would come home late from one his movie shoots and would mumble a quick hello as he walked in through the door. You’d be sitting on the couch watching and episode of Dateline and he would throw himself next to you and lay his head on your lap. You’d start running your hands through his hair as you finished watching the last couple of minutes of the episode before asking Harry how his day was only to realize he had passed out on your lap and was now quietly snoring, a small trail of drool slowly coming out of his mouth

- The next season of your favorite show Handmaid’s Tale had come out so you and Harry started watching it. Every five minutes Harry would ask you a question about the show until mid way through you looked at him and bursted out “Harry if you ask me one more question about the show I’m sending you to our room”. Harry would pout at you and sink into the couch, grumbling about how it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember what happened last season before he shoved some popcorn into his mouth

- You’d need to go shopping at Target one day to get some decorations for your niece's birthday party and Harry would decide to come along. “This is our list Harry, we’re not buying anything that’s not on the list” you’d say in the car before getting out, but it would be hopeless because every other aisle Harry would pick something up and say “babe we need to get this” and you would stare at him and say “is it on the list?” and he would grumble a no before sulking back down the aisle to put it back

- On road trips when he let you pick the music he would grumble when you would change the song every 30 seconds. “Love just choose a song, it’s not that difficult, gave you the bloody playlist” he’d state as you would continue to skip through the songs mumbling “I’m tired of that song though, just wanted to hear the chorus”. “Is that what you do with my songs too, just skip all the good parts to get to the bloody chorus?” he’d ask mockingly as you gave him a sheepish smile and mumbled a “sometimes” before finally picking a song

- It would be nearly 4 am and you would still be awake reading your book in bed as Harry slept soundly next to you. You could feel the tears running down your face as the main character just had their heartbroken and a soft sniffle left your nose which caused Harry to startle awake. “Babe what time is it?” he’d mumble as you continue reading, paying him no mind. He’d turn on his phone and groan as he saw the 4 flash at him before turning to see the tears on your face. “Oh no love did she get her heartbroken again? Sure they’ll get back together by the end” he’d state, knowing this was your third rom-com book of the month. You’d mumble a yes as Harry gently dog eared the page before you could protest. He turned off your lamp before tucking you into his side, pulling the covers up to your chin, letting you crying into his chest over your fictional characters

- You and Harry going to your 15th high school reunion together and he gets jealous when he sees you talking to your ex-boyfriend from when you were 16. He’d come up behind you and wrap an arm around your waist while placing a kiss to the side of your temple before reaching out his free hand to introduce himself. “Hello I’m Harry. The Husband” he’d say as he shook your ex’s hand just a little tighter then necessary

- Harry would be overly invested in your work place gossip so when the two of you would have dinner together he would constantly ask questions about what happened with your coworkers that day. “So did Stacy and Justin get caught yet or does Janet still have no idea? Did Kathleen ever get that promotion? If I ever see Garrett I’m going to punch him”

-  He’d force you to wake up early with him so the two of you could workout together in your home gym, but you’d just sit on the floor against the mirror in your workout clothes staring at him. After several attempts at trying to get you to stretch with him he’d give up and say “If you’re not gonna workout at least give me some motivation babe” so he’d do his abs workout in front of you and every time he came up from a sit-up you’d give him a kiss

- Harry would come down with a cold and he would turn into a 5 year old boy and try to milk it for everything it’s worth. “Think the doctor mentioned that cuddles would really help with my headache, love.” “Harry I don’t think that’s what the doctor said” you’d reply as you placed a cold wash cloth on his forehead. “Don’t think I would have forgotten such an important order from her. Now, come here I want to cuddle my wife” 

- He’d come home from the studio fidgeting with his beat-up blue iPod in his hand as you were finishing up a quick dinner for the two of you. He would gently place the iPod on the counter next to you as he poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. You’d stare at it for a minute before asking “Is it finished? Can I listen?”. He’d nod before you gave him a quick kiss and took the device to the living room, leaving him there with his thoughts. An hour later you came back into the kitchen, tears streaming down your face as you ran up to hug him. “Liked it?” he’d ask nervously, this being the first time you’d heard the finished album. “Absolutely loved it” you’d whisper back causing Harry to release a deep breath before taking your face in his hands and kissing you roughly

- He’d start every award acceptance speech with “I’d like to first thank my wife for always supporting me” and then try to catch your eye in the crowd, giving you a soft smile that was only meant for you before going on to thank everyone else

- “We need an intervention Harry. Why are your suits in my side of the closet?” you asked as you came down stairs with one of Harry’s Gucci suits. “I was running out of space and I didn’t think you would notice” he replied with a blush. “Well I did so either you move them or I’m throwing them out” “Love but they’re Gucci you can’t just-” “Ah ah ah I don’t care. My side of the closet” you’d state before dropping the suit in his lap and walking back upstairs

So many others come to mind but these are just a couple that came to mind. I’ll probably do a Dad!Harry version at some point as well 

[massivedrickhead]

Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 4

July 29th: Near death experience

Read on AO3

“Beca, I’m not done talking about this,” Chloe huffed, following Beca out of their bedroom and down the stairs. One hand was held against her heavily pregnant stomach, while the other was gripping the bannister as she struggled to keep pace with her much quicker wife.

“I’m gonna be late for work, Chlo’,” was Beca’s response as she grabbed her jacket from the hook in the hall.

“It’s Saturday,” Chloe said, finally making it down in one piece. “You’re not supposed to work on Saturdays anymore. You promised.”

“I know,” Beca said as she began searching for her keys. “But the studio needs me to come in,” she lowered her voice a fraction, “and we need the money.”

Chloe sighed. “I need you here more than we need the money,” she said. “We have savings, and I’ll be going back to work once my maternity leave is up. And if things get really desperate, we could always ask-.”

“No,” Beca said, cutting her off.

“Beca.”

“We are not asking your parents for money. They already have a low enough opinion of me, we aren’t going to make it worse by letting them know I can’t even provide for my family,” Beca said, dropping her bag on an armchair when she realised her keys weren’t in there. “And our savings are for our kids’ futures, not for right now.”

She walked through the living room, where her six-year-old daughter was watching cartoons, and into the kitchen.

“Blake, have you seen mommy’s keys?” Beca asked as she walked.

“No.”

Chloe followed Beca into the kitchen.

“So I have to suffer because you want to save face in front of my parents?” She said, trying to keep her voice low so Blake wouldn’t hear.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you were suffering,” Beca replied. Chloe spotted Beca’s keys on the bench and picked them up. “Can I have my keys please?”

“Beca I can’t keep doing this on my own. I need your help,” Chloe said, her hand resting on her stomach again.

“This is me helping,” Beca said. “Going to work and putting money in our account is how I help.”

Chloe had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping.

She didn’t know how many more times she needed to tell Beca that providing for the family wasn’t all on her shoulders.

“Beca. Please. I know you think it’s all on you because the latest single didn’t sell as well as you’d hoped-”

“- it bombed, but thanks for bringing it up-”

“-but we’re a team,” Chloe said, as if there’d been no interruption. “That means we share the load. And it also means you can’t run off to work every Saturday and leave your very pregnant wife looking after a six-year-old.”

Beca sighed as guilt prickled the back of her neck. “I’m gonna be late,” she said, holding out her hands for her keys.

Chloe dropped the keys into her hand before pushing past her in order to start making breakfast.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Fine,” Chloe said, keeping her back to her as dropped bread into the toaster. “Don’t wake me if you’re home too late.”

“Okay,” Beca said, before she turned and left.

Chloe swallowed the lump in her throat as she heard Beca say goodbye to their daughter before she left the house.

Beca was running very late by the time she made it out to her car.

Guilt, worry, and frustration were all fighting each other inside to see which could make her feel worse.

Couldn’t Chloe see that she didn’t want to have to go into the studio on a Saturday?

She would much rather spend her weekend with her wife and daughter than deal with the aftermath of the dud she’d just released.

A chunk of the money she’d made from the first album was in a trust fund for their kids, enough to cover college (if they wanted to go) or to help set them up in their first home.

Some of it was in a bank account for a break-in-case-of-emergency situation.

But the rest… it had surprised Beca how quick it had gone down.

There was the wedding, the honeymoon, buying them this house, paying off the remainder of Chloe’s college debt, paying off her Mom’s debt, and then the cost of living in L.A… it all added up.

It didn’t help that after she’d given birth to Blake she took some time out of the spotlight and the income of money began to slow down.

After a gap of almost two years, Beca had been ready to start making music again but her first single off her new album just… fell flat.

Theo warned her she’d have to do a lot of work on the album to recover from that, and that meant a lot of late nights and weekends.

“Chloe, just a few more weeks and the album will be out and then things can go back to normal again.”

“No, Beca. A few more weeks and then you start promoting. A few weeks and you start touring. A few weeks and our baby will be born!”

A car cut her off as they were approaching the highway, and Beca had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting it.

“Asshole!” She said, laying on the horn.

She saw the sticker in the back window, and had to laugh.

‘You’re right where you’re meant to be.’

Beca wondered if it was meant to be inspirational, or if it was meant to be a joke.

“Yeah, right where I’m meant to be,” she muttered. “Which is right behind you.”

They reached the traffic lights and the car ahead drove off while Beca was stuck at a red light.

Great.

If she’d left even one minute earlier-

She didn’t have time to finish her thought as a truck came barrelling out of nowhere and t-boned the car that had cut her off.

“Oh my god!”

Beca got out of the car and dialled 911 as she surveyed the carnage in front of her.

She could hear screaming and yelling as other people got out of their cars to look.

She could smell smoke and burnt rubber, and heard the long unbroken sound of a horn.

Some people ran forward to help, others were calling for help.

Others took videos. Holding their phones up to record the chaos.

Will they watch the footage later? Beca wondered. Or just sell it to a news station.

Beca requested an ambulance and had just told them the location as the car that had been hit burst into a fireball.

She could feel the heat from where she was standing.

That would have been me, she thought, her blood running cold with horror. A second earlier and it would have been me.

In her mind, she saw that sticker again.

You’re right where you’re meant to be.

She threw up. Last night’s dinner splattered the road.

Ambulances, fire trucks, police, they all showed up in the next ten minutes as Beca watched the nightmarish scene in front of her. She couldn’t take her eyes off it.

She would learn on the news that night that there were no survivors.

An officer came to ask her if she saw anything, and she told him what happened.

“Sounds like you got lucky,” he said, writing it down. He took her details in case they needed any more information, and told her to drive carefully on her way home because “you look a little pale ma’am.”

Beca got in her car, turned around, and drove straight home.

She didn’t even register the journey, and was parked in her drive and walking through the front door before she even realised she’d made it home.

“Bec? Is that you?”

Chloe was in the living room with Blake when Beca walked in, looking very pale with unshed tears in her eyes.

“Baby? Are you okay?”

Chloe stood up with difficulty and made her way over to Beca.

“Beca?”

Beca didn’t answer, she just wrapped her arms around Chloe as tightly as she could, and started crying.

She buried her face in Chloe’s neck and breathed her in as she tried to control her tears.

“Okay,” Chloe said, softly. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca choked out. “Please, never stop arguing with me.”

“What?”

“Never stop giving me a hard time about working too much. Please don’t give up on me, Chlo’.”

“Bec, honey, take a breath and tell me what happened,” Chloe said, ending their hug and resting her hands on Beca’s shoulders. Beca still looked scarily pale. “Sit down.”

She led Beca to the sofa and sat down beside her.

Blake, who had been watching with apprehension ran off to the bathroom before returning with what looked like half a roll of toilet paper.

“Here you go mommy,” she said, handing it to Beca.

Beca laughed and used it to wipe her eyes. “Thank you baby,” she said. She lifted Blake into her lap and kissed her cheek and hugged her so hard that Blake started to giggle.

“Mommy you’re gonna squish me!”

“Sorry,” Beca said, relaxing her grip, allowing Blake to slide off her lap and return to her toys.

“What happened?” Chloe prompted.

Beca sniffed and wiped her eyes again. “There was an accident,” she said. “It was bad, and… and I would have been in it. If I’d left here a minute earlier I would have been in it. I… I almost…” She swallowed, not wanting to voice it in front of Blake.

Chloe didn’t need her to say it, she understood.

“Oh my god,” she said, her voice catching. She swallowed hard and blinked back tears. “Okay,” she said, pulling Beca into a hug. “You’re okay.”

“I love you, Chloe. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Chloe said, squeezing her as hard as she could.

Their hug ended when Beca’s phone began ringing.

“It’s Theo,” she said, pulling the phone out of her pocket. She wiped her eyes. “Do I sound normal?”

“No, not even a little bit,” Chloe said. “Let me speak to him?”

Beca nodded and handed over the phone. She knew Theo was a little bit scared of Chloe, so would be much less likely to insist Beca come into work if she spoke to him.

“Hey Theo, it’s Chloe,” Chloe said. “Yeah, she won’t be making it in today.“

She took her free hand and started running it through Beca’s hair in a soothing motion, and she could almost feel the tension leaving Beca’s body. Sometimes she liked to tease Beca on how much she acted like a cat, but she wouldn’t do that today. Today she just needed to calm her down and make her feel safe and loved.

“No, she was almost in a car accident,” Chloe said, adjusting her position as best as she could so Beca could lean into her. Beca’s had came to rest on Chloe’s stomach, and she pressed a soft kiss against it. Their baby responded with a few kicks.

“Yeah, that’s the one. No, she's fine, but I don’t think she’s in any state to drive or work, I think she’s probably in shock. Okay. I’ll let her know. Thanks.” Beca looked up as Chloe ended the call. “He said not to worry about it. He heard about the accident which is why he called. He knows you take that road to work.”

“Thank you for doing that,” Beca said.

“Of course. We’re a team, remember?”

“I won’t ever forget it.”

Blake joined her mothers on the sofa, and cuddled into Beca’s other side.

Beca closed her eyes, surrounded by her family, and let out a slow breath.

She was right where she was meant to be.

[chocolatecarstairs]

julie and the phantoms: holiday special!!!

halloween:

julie begs the boys not to do anything stupid before they’re set to play her school’s halloween party but of course they don’t listen

they go hard haunting bobby and carrie (originally it was just supposed to be bobby but carrie was right there and luke has never liked the way she treats julie), they help carlos egg the house of a bully at his school, and they spend a ridiculous amount of time ding-dong-ditching people and stealing candy they can’t eat

for their set alex dresses as a ghost because he loves the irony. reggie goes as han solo (OUT OF RESPECT, LUKE, RESPECT FOR THE DEAD. reggie, man, we’re dead.) luke goes as KISS, which weirds out half of julie’s school but they don’t ask many questions, they just figure it’s a swedish thing. julie and flynn pair up to go as an angel and a devil (flynn is the devil, julie is the angel), carrie is a space cowgirl ofc, and nick’s costume has something to do with a fedora ??? but nobody is really sure what he is

the band does a sick cover of the monster mash and the boys spend the rest of the party pranking half of julie’s school while they’re invisible

afterwards, julie and the boys have a movie marathon in the garage. alex begs for a horror movie so they watch the exorcist. or at least, the first twenty minutes of the exorcist. luke can barely look past julie’s shoulder and reggie’s whimpers become too annoying. instead, they watch hocus pocus (the boys remember seeing it in theaters together when it first came out) and then marathon all the halloweentown movies, luke’s newest post-death obsession. julie has to try her hardest not to eat all of the candy the boys stole, even though the assured her they were fine with it 

luke and reggie are still giant babies about the exorcist, so they get to sleep in the middle while julie and alex get the outside of the blanket/sleeping bag/pillow fort they’ve set up. reggie cuddles up between alex and luke while luke falls asleep with his head in julie’s shoulder.

thanksgiving:

the boys aren’t the most thrilled about this holiday. they can’t eat and it was always so family-oriented, but julie is determined to make it as fun as she can for them. she sneaks around the week before, trying to casually interrogate the guys about each of the others favorite thanksgiving traditions

reggie and his dad used to watch the football game together every year, so julie makes sure there is a spot open on the couch next to ray as gets the tv on

she lights a cinnamon bun candle in the living room and watches the macy’s thanksgiving day parade with alex, because his mom used to make cinnamon buns for him and his sisters when they watched it together every thanksgiving morning

she gets the guys together in the backyard after her dad and carlos fall asleep to play a game of touch football, just like luke used to do with all of his cousins at his grandparents house every year

they make little hand turkeys in the studio like julie and carlos used to do with their mom and hang them up amongst all the others

they sit up late in their remade pillow fort, talking about what they’re thankful for

luke’s is the ability to perform again and julie bringing them back for a second chance

reggie’s is hanging out with ray and finally getting to catch up on star wars (even though they killed han solo)

alex’s is coming back to “life” to find people who love him for who he is and who accept his sexuality without hesitation

julie’s is that her mom brought these dorky guys into her life, giving her a new family and the ability to play music again

they all fall asleep in their fort, curled up on blankets and pillows, talking about their favorite thanksgiving foods

christmas/hanukkah:

reggie is jewish, so julie enlists flynn’s help to set up a menorah in the garage and to properly teach her about the traditions. 

reggie teaches the band the history behind the holiday and even a little hebrew as the light the candles each night.

he visits his brother and watches his nephews open their presents and play together.

it takes a few days of luke’s bad mood for julie to realize that he spent his last christmas - the last one he was alive - alone in her garage, so she’s determined to make his first one as a ghost as special as possible.

she enlists alex’s help and gets him to poof into luke’s parents house to swipe a few of his favorite ornaments from the tree to surprise him with

she strings popcorn and cranberries and gets the guys together to decorate a christmas tree in the studio, they pile it high with tinsel and homemade ornaments and alex even poofs into his parents garage to grab his old gold star to top the tree with

decorating quickly devolves into them throwing the extra popcorn at each other and julie is pissed that it hits her but goes through the guys like nothing. if she can touch them, whatever she’s throwing should be able to too

she plays christmas carols in the studio 24/7. alex complains LOUDLY and reggie sings along to every single song. luke likes to pretend he’s too cool for carols (they’re not rock, julie) but she catches him humming frosty the snowman or deck the halls whenever he think nobody is paying attention

the band decides to exchange homemade gifts (julie isn’t entirely sure how to ask her dad for the money to buy gifts for her three ghost friends and in alex’s own words “we died eating street dogs out of the back of a car julie, we’re broke. and it’s not like we can just waltz into a store and pick you out a perfume anyways. we’re invisible.”)

luke writes julie a song, he finally learns the chords to home is where my horse is for reggie, and he tie-dyes alex a new tshirt

alex enlists julie’s help (which eventually turns into julie enlisting her dad’s help) to make a cassette of their songs for luke’s walkman. he borrows flynn’s cricut to make reggie a “han solo lives on” tshirt. and he gives julie a pair of vintage sneakers he snags from his parents garage. something his older sister had saved up for MONTHS to buy back in ‘89 

reggie makes alex some homemade pins for his fanny pack. he gives julie some homemade stickers to decorate her mic and her keyboard with. and he spends some serious time doodling sunset curve/phantom drawings onto an old guitar strap for luke

julie digs through her moms chest to find more sunset curve merch and uploads their songs to spotify from their cd. she writes a duet that she gifts to luke (though since it was written for both of them, she isn’t sure it counts as a gift, even though his face lights up when he reads it.) she gives alex one of her dads vintage bomber jackets, which she spent an afternoon pressing the band’s logo onto the back of with the help of flynn’s cricut. she sets up a movie night for reggie, where they watch every star wars movie ever made and she lets him cry as long as he wants over how terrible han solo’s death it and the travesty that is jar jar’s character 

they spend new years at the beach, cozied up on blankets near the water, strumming guitars and playing music just enough for the boys to be visible occasionally. they watch the firework show happening over the pier and spend hours talking about their hopes for world tours and record deals. they’re happy. they’re together.

[thebooki3h]

Lukadamianette Au Part 2

First Here Next

We begin where we left off, with Luka and Marinette on one of the dates Luka Planned. Just because it makes sense in this, Luka and Mari arrive a week early

Because Mari is emancipated and excused herself for the first week of school before the trip during which the class is still in France bc they just ended summer and all that jazz. also I have decided that the trip has turned into a half semester exchange program even though this doesn’t make the most sense, but the French school thought the class could use a reward and tbh they just wanted to get the Akuma class out for awhile. Also this way they aren’t in Gotham for a whole semester of senior year. The trip is planned for the first half of the first semester of senior year. I know that this doesn't make a whole lot of sense but just stick with me.

They go sight seeing and basically on a week long date bc the following week begins the Wayne sponsored exchange program and when Luka has to work for Jagged. One day they go to museums, the next the go to famous parks around Gotham (which are thriving thanks to Poison Ivy), the next they see all of the famous villain spots (which are surprisingly popular tourist destinations bc for the most part they don’t get hit twice in short periods of time) which is a good cover for studying past bat battles. They take days in between to rest and use the inspiration they gained to make new songs or clothing designs. 

They share hotel room bc Mari’s parents stopped being her parents a long time ago and lost their say and bc Jagged says they are grown up enough to be responsible for their actions (which brings a blush to their cheeks every time bc “daaaaaddddd” “uncle jaggeeedddd”)

Mari also makes it her mission to visit all of the non chain coffee shops at least once while they are there bc coffee became her best friend when she was active as ladybug. She meets Tim in almost everyone because Tim also drinks coffee obsessively. Luka is more of a tea drinker because coffee interrupts his musical thought process and tea is less harsh. Marinette drinks tea when she wants to relax but coffee is the fuel of the gods. She expresses this to Tim and that's how they become acquainted bc finally someone understands his love for coffee. They exchange numbers after they run into each other for a fourth time. (Luka silently thinks that he might have to talk to Mari about her obsession of coffee again and if there is a rehab center for coffee drinkers) Tim learns that Mari is from the exchange class very quickly based off of Luka’s French accent as well as her light French accent that is mixed with a couple things he can’t quite place.

The class arrives, Lila ofc tried to pull something to leave Mari behind and she thought she was successful so she was gloating. She ofc took credit for the whole trip claiming that she was super close to the Waynes and that she helped Damian acclimate to his new school (she actually knows that Damian didn’t start living with his father until 10 bc why not). Mrs Bustier tries to check in under both her name and Lila’s name, both of which don’t work because they are A) an hour and a half early and B) all of the reservations are under the contest winners name (they have to ok their chaperones to use their name) C)Mrs Bustier told Mari to make all of the reservations under Mari’s name anyway and she totally forgot that. 

So the sit in the lobby for an hour, Lila has the whole class riled up bc Marinette isn't there and it is al her fault that they can’t get in to their rooms. Marinette shows up with Luka 15 mins before the class was supposed to show up (they had just gotten lunch at a cafe that jagged had recommended) and she is laughing and happy, which causes the class to BLOW UP in her face. She ignores them and checks everyone into their rooms. Kagami and Chloe share a suite bc they are rich in their own right and upgraded their shared room bc they are dating and signed up to be roommates. They got this okayed by Buister in writing JIC. Marinette as the contest winner also got a suite (the room she had been staying in with Luka that she just extended the booking for)

Lila and Alya obviously make a big fuss about them getting special treatment but bustier can’t do anything because Mari won’t let her. She secretly thinks Mari is a lost cause now but she tries her best to get her to see that she has to be a role model. Mari actually planned the whole trip and she did a fucking fantastic job bc its Mari and planning something is what she is great at. She has all of the bases covered including iternerary, bookings for food, emergency contact info, health info, info on Gotham, safety procedures and the whole shebang. All of which had to be approved by  Bustier and that Bustier has copies of but totally ignored.

The next day they try to pull the let’s leave an hour early to leave behind Marinette stunt. Not only does that fail because the tour can’t start until the contest winner is there, but they arrived before Wayne tower was even open to the public. Because jagged is extra he shipped Luka and Marinette motorcycles to Gotham bc they were going to be there for a couple months, they also got special permission from Wayne enterprises to park their bikes in the employee parking structures from Tim once he heard that they rode bikes as expensive as Jason’s. So she left early from the hotel with Luka(bc she knew that Bustier would leave her behind somehow) to go meet up with Tim at a new coffee place (one of his favorites). They end up riding on their respective bikes to WE together so they can hang out before the tour. Luka goes to a recording studio to meet up with Jagged, but not before a very passionate kiss goodbye, which makes Tim blush. (Tim may not seem like the biker type but he is a bat and he lives with Jason so he not only knows how to ride a motorcycle well has one, so it may not be his favorite mode of transportation but he’ll live)

So he and Marinette walk to WE about a half an hour before the class is supposed to be there in the middle of a debate on how best to brew coffee (Mari insists its French press) and low and behold they are there yelling at the receptionist. Mari gives Tim a look that says I’m so sorry you have to see this and yes I was not exaggerating walks up to the receptionist and apologizes for what she is about to do (not for the classes actions bc fuck them they can apologize for themselves she has learned to not take responsibility for others actions and she won’t let all that work go to waste). She then proceeds to yell, much louder than someone of her stature presumably should “SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I STG I WILL BREAK JOKER OUT OF ARKHAM AND LOCK HIM IN A ROOM WITH ALL OF YOU WITHOUT FLINCHING” this is shocking to everyone, especially mrs bustier who is  scandalized  that her role model student would do something like this.

Tim had a feeling that something video worthy would happen so as soon as she walked away he started recording, and he was NOT disappointed. The video gos straight to the batfam gc and Luka immediately. He powered off his phone then he proceeds to start laughing and applauding. Upon seeing the CEO’s reaction the rest of the employees start applauding as well bc damn those kids were rude. Tim then walks up to Mari talking at a speed no one but Mari, Chloe and Kagami could understand (bc the class is not fluent in English no matter what they would tell you). Mari proceeds to blush once he informs her that he sent a video to Luka (he does not tell her about the batfam gc)

Chloe and Kagami are immediate intrigued bc this is NOT what they picture when Mari said she met someone who loves coffee as much as she does. they may be hella gay for each other but damn that man is ripped. They join the convo while the class remains befuddled bc who knew Mari even swore. in the back of his mind Nino is reminded of a young blue-eyed girl who lost playground privileges for a week bc someone made fun of his glasses and proceed to punch said someone in the nose. But he shakes it of because Mari hasn’t been like that in years. 

Bustier eventually collects herself and gently, so as not to cause an Akuma (apparently she didn't get the memo), reminds Mari that they are here for a tour and she needs to get the class their passes.  So Mari leaves her friends to get acquainted and goes up to the receptionist, to whom she apologizes for her actions again, and the receptionist replies with a laugh and a “honey, you just made my week, there's no need to apologize I should be thanking you” (she does thank Mari). Mari gets a special pass bc she’s the contest winner to which Lila and Alya (then the rest of the class for the most part) proceed to throw a hissy fit over. The receptionist is so over them though and doesn’t even blink. 

Then their tour guide shows up. (its Dick and his assistant Damian). Damian proceeds to scold the class for a solid ten mins (which coincidentally leads up to their scheduled time to start the tour). Dick slides off to talk to the receptionist and his brother who isn't working and is talking to real people for once. Just for that they are his favorite out of the class. Tim unfortunately has to go to work so they talk to Dick to get acquainted until the tour has to officially start. 

Los tres amigos are the only ones who pay attention to Dick at all (he leads the tour bc he’s been there the longest but Damian throws in a comment here or there mostly related to shenanigans his family has gotten into but overall useful facts. for example these windows are reinforced because our CEO (Tim) leaned up against one, fell asleep and fell through the window to the office below.)

The rest of the class is focused on Lila who is talking a whole bunch of nonsense about the Wayne family and how she has helped them with their business. Some things actually sound kinda legit, but Mari and Co. know that it is BS. Dick tries to bet bustier involved but she makes an excuse for Lila and goes on her phone and doesn’t really pay attention. 

Eventually the class tour turns into Dick talking to Mari, Chloe and Kagami while the class vaguely follows them. Damian doesn’t really say anything because he generally doesn’t do well talking to strangers and these girls seem ok and he is still insecure (not that he would ever admit it to anyone ) about social interaction now that he has figured out how people who weren’t raised as assassins act. That is until Dick starts talking about shenanigans that his brothers get into, and Damian jumps in correcting him because  I did not try to tackle Todd, Grayson I did tackle Todd quite successful and also Alfred won’t let you into the kitchen anymore because you almost burned down the east wing of the manor not  because he is territorial over the kitchen. And Mari hadn’t really paid attention to Damian until now but OH MY KAWAMI he is hot, and how did she talk so long to notice that. 

She ends up taking a pic of Damian without him noticing (he really doesn’t notice which is a feat in itself but Dick does and he will  be teasing Damian about it later bc obviously) and she texts it to Luka bc if she is going to freak out over his hotness she wants Luka to do so too. ( he sees the pic in the middle of recording and he ends up needing a water break bc gay panic and he really is extremely handsome. Recording gets delayed even longer bc jagged cannot pass up the opportunity to tease him son and he does so mercilessly and Mari totally knew what she was doing when she sent that picture) Luka ends up demanding that she gets Damians number or he will because that man is fine.  

Mari now knows that the stuttering idolization that she had with Adrien wasn’t really healthy and Luka likes to remind her all the time that she can be smooth when she wants to be (sometimes unintentionally but she practices on Luka because she loves to see him blush). Mari then makes it her mission to compliment Damian as much as possible so that it is crystal clear and very obvious that she is flirting with him. If he even shows a little discomfort in a negative I don’t like this kind of way she will stop because she will not make someone go through what she went through with Chat Noir and unwanted advances.

Chloe, Kagami and Dick immediately notice that she is flirting with Damian. Chloe takes a video for Luka bc she knows that he would want to see this and Dick takes a video for the Batfam gc. 

Just to be clear Mari and Luka have talked about seeing other people and maybe adding a third person to their relationship as long as they talk about it. that line of communication was opened when Mari sent a pic of Damian to Luka and when Luka asked for his number that was his “go ahead” for her to flirt with Damian. Lila doesn’t understand how that works and neither do the rest of the class so that is a point of contention between the class and Mari. She would NEVER cheat on Luka, she loves him and he is the most important person to her in the world. Something that Juleka understands (she just doesn’t like Mari bc of Lila she knows how polyamory works this is why her and Luka aren't as close as they used to be)

Moving on... the batfam gc blows up for a second time that day and so when the class goes to the cafeteria Tim just has to see this for himself. Mari tries not to be obnoxious in her flirting so she compliments Damians intelligence by asking him questions that weren't included in the tour, and she asks him about his interests and is like that must have taken a lot of time to perfect you must be very dedicated. Damian isn’t used to genuine compliments especially from strangers so he is very flustered by it but he makes no indication for her to stop. 

The day winds down and the class has some free time before they have to go to dinner but the do have to leave the tower. Mari does actually get Damians number (he thinks she must be very well trained to get his number that quick bc he refuses to accept that he gave it to her because he likes her) Mari promises to ft him later bc he promised to let her meet his dog and she doesn’t want to wait until the class has dinner at the manor to see Titus.

First Here Next

Taglist

@dood-space

@toodaloo-kangaroo

Also I’m not very sure about how to go back and edit posts to link new parts so if anyone knows how to do that please comment or message me because I would love to learn!

[twilight-love-nochu]

BTS Reaction To neglecting their family while away (Hyung Line)

JIN (Kim Seokjin)

When you started to date Jin you knew what you got yourself into. Jin is a busy man always preparing for the next comeback or going on tour. He was living his dream and you knew how much it meant to him so you didn’t complain. You felt quite proud of him actually since even with his busy schedule he usually never forgets to take care of his family and spends as much time with your three year old and you as possible.

Though on his current tour it was quite different. For a long time he didn’t call you two and barely ever answered your calls and you were getting quite tired of it. Yes, he was busy but you were just asking for 5 minutes, enough time to check on each other and for him to talk to his son.

It had already been 4 months since he left and your son was missing him terribly. He was starting to be uncontrollable, always throwing tantrums and never wanting to go to sleep demanding for his father to sing him to sleep.

Today was one of those nights again. Your usually smiley son was currently crying at the top of his lungs and kicking when you tried to come near him. At this point you were fed up with it and didn’t have any energy to deal with it anymore.

You left your son’s room and went to the living room were you left your phone. You snatched it from the table it was laying on and FaceTimed your husband over and over again determined to have him answer the phone, which he did after the fifth call.

“What is it?! You can’t just blow up my phone like this I’m about to go to the rehearsals and I’m already late, Y/N.” You could tell that he was pissed by the way he growled at you. But at this point you were probably more irritated than him so it didn’t faze you.

“I wouldn’t have to if you actually answered when I called… or maybe even called yourself.” You retorted with a fake smile.

“You know I’m busy, I don’t always have time. Like right now actually.”

“Seems like lately even when you do have time you prefer spending it with anything or anyone other than your family.” You didn’t even know were that came from and the words surprised even you but you weren’t going to show him how startled you were. “Whatever I just called because your son misses you very much and is making life very hard for me right now so talk to him.” You said while going back into your son’s room and handing the phone to your son who was still crying, though much calmer now.

As soon as he say his father on the screen you could see his eyes light up.

“Hi buddy!” you heard Jin say as you took the opportunity to go to the kitchen and heat up your food as you didn’t have any time to eat before since you were too busy taking care of the troublesome son. You also took the time to calm down from the fight with your husband.

After a few minutes you went back into your son’s room to check on him only to find him fast asleep with your phone on his lap. You smiled at how cute he looked before walking over to him. You payed him down in his bed, tucked him in and pressed a kiss to his temple before taking the phone and walking out of the room making sure to close the door carefully behind you.

“Y/N?” The voice coming from your phone startled you a bit, you didn’t realize that he was still on the call. When you pointed the camera at your face Jin started talking again: “He grew a lot since the last time I saw him. I didn’t realize how long it has been.” He said with a sad smile on his face problably trying to start small talk with you.

You chuckled bitterly at his words “Yeah, talk to you whenever.” You rolled your eyes.

“Wai-“ you didn’t let him finish before ending the call. You really didn’t feel like talking to him after your fight.

SUGA (Min Yoongi)

Yoongi has always been a distant person. He often missed calls or forgot to text back, or even canceled some dates. In the beginning of your relationship it made you doubt his feelings for you quite often but you soon came to realize that he wasn’t being distant on purpose. He is just naturally introverted and very serious and concentrated when it comes to his work.

What helped you realize that we’re many actions of his, like when he came to you when he needed inspiration, or when he sometimes came over to your apartment that was further away from his studio than the dorms fully knowing that you would be asleep when he came and that he had to leave even before you woke up and when you realized that and asked him about it he simply replied that he only felt completely relaxed when he was with you, or simply that he trusted you with his beloved dog Hollie when he was on tour.

Tour was the only time where you two were completely apart from each other and the only way for you to communicate was through the phone. This made tours the hardest times in your relationship, as your communication would be at its minimum. Of course you missed your boyfriend very much when he was away but you trusted Yoongi and knew that if he didn’t call he was just immersed in his work and stressed, you didn’t want to be a distraction from his work since you know how important it was to him.

Anyway you soon got used to his lifestyle and you two started to make changes in both of your lives so that you were both happy. You started hanging out at his studio more often - obviously not distracting him but doing your own thing -, soon you two even moved in together and later on he married you.

Now here you are 5 years later and not much has changed. Yoongi is still as focused on his career and you don‘t mind much, you miss him, but you were used to it by now… but your daughter was not.

Your daughter was only 4 years old so she didn’t understand why her daddy had to be away from her for so long. She is the biggest Daddy‘s Girl out there so she also didn’t like the idea of him going around the world to make other girls happy very much.

The 4-year-old has been feeling a little bit under the weather for a couple of days now and it broke your heart to see your usual bundle of happiness in that state. You thought long about how to make her feel better and came to the conclusion that talking to her beloved dad was the only medicine that would help.

You pondered for a very long time wether you should call him or not since you knew how grumpy he could get when he got interrupted while working but when your daughter even refused to eat you knew you had to.

You went into your room to start the call because you didn’t know how Yoongi would react after picking up the phone and you didn’t want him to snap at you in front of your 4-year-old.

Sure enough Yoongi seemed pissed after answering your second call. “Babe, I’m working, you know I don’t like getting interrupted.” Yes he was scolding you but you couldn’t help the butterflies that erupted in your belly upon hearing his voice after so long.

“Oh come on, you’re always working Yoongi and we haven’t talked in so long.” You pouted a little.

“I’m busy Y/N, I’m working on a new song right now and I really don’t want to forget what I had in mind.” He doesn’t budge, making you sigh.

“Yoongi, we talked about this. When you’re working you tend to get too immersed in it and you forget to call. The last time we talked was more than a month ago and the only reason I even know you’re alive and well is because I talk to your members. I just want one call once in a while even if it’s for a few minutes. Y/D/N misses you a lot… and I do too.” You add shyly.

That’s when you see a soft smile for on your Husband’s lips. “ You’re Right Y/N. I’m sorry. I guess I do get too immersed in my work. I didn’t even realize how I miss you two too.”

“You really need to take a break once in a while babe.” You tell him.

”I know. I will. How’s Y/D/N?” You can see his eyes light up just at the thought of her, making you chuckle.

“Not so good, she hasn’t been nearly as cheerful as she usually is. And I just tried to feed her but she keeps rejecting any kind of food. I think she just misses you a lot. You know I’m used to not talking to you that much but she isn’t.” You tell him honestly and his face falls remarkably.

“You should be used to me neglecting you either, Y/N.” He says sadness laced in his voice. “I’ll make it up to you I promise. For now let me talk to my Princess.”

You walk into the living room with your phone in your hand to find said princess lying on the sofa while watching her favorite show on the TV.

“Baby, Look who’s on the phone!” You say with a cheerful tone.

As sulky as she was before she still looked over to you and as soon as she saw her father on the phone the Y/D/N that you knew and loved cake back.

“Appa!!!”

You stayed on the phone for almost 2 hours during which your daughter happily told him about everything he had missed since his last phone call and he even got her to eat before she passed out on your lap. You were relieved that she was back to her old bubbly self.

Surprisingly, the call didn’t end after you put Y/D/N to bed like you would have thought. Instead Yoongi even insisted on staying on the phone to talk to you until you fell asleep too.

J-Hope (Jung Hoseok)

Your husband Hoseok was a superstar and his popularity was growing day by day. His fan base exceeded national boundaries so naturally he was gone a lot. Be it for a world tour, schedules in other countries or a collaboration with a western artist.

This time he had a 3 months tour all over America and had to stay there a little longer for the promotion of his new song with the newest big female artist in the USA right now.

Though you knew that you had to share your s/o with more than 30 Mio people, you didn’t mind because you knew that in the end you were the one he was married to and had two children with. Plus, you were an army too, so how could you be jealous knowing how important he was to them and vise versa.

Getting jealous because of his popularity would be stupid anyways because Hoseok was one of the most social and charismatic people you ever got to know, so you were sure that even if he wasn’t famous he’d still be gaining the attention of many people. But that wasn’t a bad thing, after all if he wasn’t that outgoing you doubt that you would have gotten to know each other.

So yeah, you were pretty proud of your husband for being so successful in the thing he loved to do. And when he was away you showed your support by watching every show and interview he did. It even became a family tradition for you and your son and daughter to gather in front of the TV every time you knew he was going to be on.

All three of you loved to see him goofing around on screen since lately that was the only way you got to see him.

His new collab song came out a week ago so he was in the middle of promotion and since the song was at the top of the charts a lot of shows demanded his appearance. So every day he was juggling between schedules, went back to the hotel very late and was too exhausted to call. During the preparation of the sind he also was drowning in work. J-Hope was a perfectionist so he stayed at the studio day and night in company of the singer he was making the song with, so every time you called he would tell you that he was busy working with her.

Now, as said before, you weren’t the jealous time at all but seeing how much time he spent with her and how much you were neglected in the process really didn’t sit right with you. And the fact that you saw how well (maybe even too well) they got along with each other on shows didn’t help. You knew fully well that Hoseok wouldn’t cheat on you and you couldn’t help the jealousy that was growing inside of you. You thought to yourself that you only felt that way because you hadn’t seen nor talked to him in so long.

Even so, you didn’t want to let it show in front of your kids since you didn’t want them to think that there was anything wrong with their parents, so you continued to watch the shows and interviews with them every day suppressing the feeling and casting a fake smile on your face.

You thought you were doing a great job at faking it but your son was old enough to notice that there was something wrong with you and he was clever enough to figure out the reason after seeing your smile fall a little every time you saw Hobi laugh with his new friend. He also noticed your general mood deteriorate more and more every time his father didn’t answer your calls.

As he watched you one day try to call your husband once more and sigh when he didn’t pick up your son had enough. He picked up his own phone and opted for messaging you seeing as he knew his father wasn’t going to answer anyways.

You’re an asshole. Hope you know that.

Even though he felt bad for cursing out his father his anger was bigger.

As expected, his father didn’t didn’t respond right away, in fact he didn’t see the message until 3 hours later but as soon as he saw it his heart sank and he immediately called his son racking his brain about what he could have done for his son to suddenly have such a bad image of him.

The 13 year old answered the phone with an eye roll. “Oh so your phone does work. Good to know.”

“Buddy? You alright?” Was all Hoseok said, making the young boy roll his eyes yet again.

“You would know if you called more often… or as all.” Hobi was sure he heard a hint of sadness hiding behind all the sass he definitely inherited from you.

“I’m sorry, bud. I just have so much to do that I barely ever have any time on my own and when I do it’s already the middle of the night over there.” Excuses, excuses is what your son thought.

“Yeah because you’re always with that other woman.” Your son replied now letting his guards down and letting his sadness show. On the other end of the line Hoseok was shocked by his son’s words. His son didn’t think he was cheating on you, did he?

“W-What do you mean?” Hobi asked carefully.

“Every time mom calls you you say that you’re busy with her. You’re making mom sad And I don’t like seeing her like that.”

Hobi sighed, “ Listen to me, okay? I love your mother very very much and I would never even think of doing something that would make me lose her and you and your sister in the process. I didn’t realize I made it seem as if I was hurting your mother on purpose. I wasn’t.”

“Tell that to her then. She acts like there’s nothing wrong but I can see that she’s just faking.” Although still worried for his mom he was actually very glad to hear his father say that.

He was just like you and preferred to hide his feelings so he would never let it show but he was actually very scared that his parents would split up.

“I will, kid. Thanks for making me aware of it.” He was very proud and happy to know that his son was turning into a real man protecting his mother.

“I’ll call her now. I’ll talk to you and your sister later, okay? Love and miss you lots.” He added

“I love you too, dad. Come home soon. Oh and dad?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I called you an asshole.” Your son said bashfully, making his father laugh.

“It’s okay, but this better be the last time you talk to me like that.” Hobi answered semi-seriously.

“Yes, sir.” On that note they ended the call and Hobi didn’t miss a moment to call you.

RM (Kim Namjoon)

We all know that Namjoon is a very serious man when it comes to his work. I mean, he has to be, he is the leader of one of the most successful groups right now.

Off stage, Namjoon is also the best husband and father to your daughter. Always there for you two when you need it and when you don’t, the best support that you could ask for.

But with being the leader of BTS and of your family comes great responsibility, and as a result great stress. Between having to overview every schedule they have (and they have a lot), making sure everyone is Problem free and healthy both physically and mentally, making their songs, making sure everyone learns the songs and choreography and that the performances are perfect, playing the translator when they are overseas and having to take care or you and your 6 year old daughter there was not much time to work on his sanity. Don’t get me wrong, he loved doing all that, it was just… a bit much at times. Like now.

They had been on tour for 5 months now and they’re last break was too long ago to remember, meaning that Namjoon had been working non-stop for far too long. And he was already working on their next album that was supposed to come out soon after the tour, giving him extra work. He had no time to go visit the cities, no time to just hang out with the members and definitely no time to call you, and even though he was trying to not let it all get to him, it definitely was. And the fact that he had trouble with the song he was currently writing was not helping him very much.

In Korea, you were helping your daughter finalize the present she was making for her father for Father’s Day today.

She might be just 6 but she definitely had inherited Joon's incredible intelligence and creativity. That is why her present couldn’t be just a drawing of you three standing next to a house with a sun in the corner of the drawing.

She insisted on making an album full of pictures of her and her daddy with small notes and descriptions telling him why she loves him and her favorite memories of him.

She just started school so she couldn’t write very well but she still wanted to do it herself so right now you were just dictating her the words for the last note.

“All done mommy!” She exclaimed with a big toothless grin.

“Yay well done girlie! Shall we call daddy now and show him?”

Hearing your words, you saw her eyes light up. She didn’t waste a second before dashing to get your phone and coming back to where she left the album, making you giggle at her excitement.

You started the FaceTime call but went to stand outside of the frame right after. As mature as she wanted to act, your daughter was only 6 so you knew that Namjoon not making it to the ‘Bring you father to school day’ that her school was organizing for Father’s Day

As soon as she saw her father’s face she started beaming.

“Hi daddy!! Look what I ma-“ but her excitement was cut short by an annoyed voice.

“Y/D/N didn’t I tell you to stop taking people’s phones?” You were shocked by your husband's words and even more by his tone. Never has he ever spoken to her like that.

“But I-“ your daughter tried to explain herself but was cut off by her father once again.

“No buts young lady. You’re daddy’s busy, I can’t always talk when you want to. That’s why you should always wait for me to call or for your mother to call me. Now put the phone back where you found it.” And he ended the call.

You could see the tears forming in your daughter’s eyes as she kept on staring at the screen her usually loving father was just seconds ago.

Without a word you went over to where she was sitting and took her in your arms where she started sobbing.

You really didn’t know what was up with Namjoon. Usually even when he was majorly stressed he never talked like that. He was the most pacifist person you had ever seen and hated arguments. And seeing his little mini-me usually helped him destress.

It took you an hour to calm your daughter down and she finally fell asleep in your arms. You carried her into her room and put her in bed, careful not to wake her up.

With a heavy sigh you went back into the living room and retrieved your phone from the table. You took a picture of the album, sent it to your husband and wrote: Y/D/N made this for you. It’s a photo album with all the best memories she was with you. She was already upset enough that you can’t make it to “Bring Your Father To School Day” but you had to be pissy to her when she just wanted to show you her present? I know you probably are very stressed out because of everything and I understand it and I respect it. That’s why I refrain on calling you too often, but the one time I do, for Y/D/N sake btw, you react like that. That‘s really not cool, Namjoon.

Namjoon read the message you left him, and only then did it down on him how awful he was to your daughter and guilt started building in side of him at a rapid speed.

“Fuck.“

[natromanxoff]

Mercury Roadrunner's Interview about Freddie Mercury with Peter Freestone – Part III

Thanks very much to Mercury Roadrunner (Pavel Strashnyy) for letting me share his amazing interviews! Originally shared here. Check the tag "MR interview with Phoebe" to see the other parts.

Here are the 6 main topics of this interview, beginning of each topic is written in bold:

1. Freddie's clothes and beliefs, drugging story

2. Freddie's family

3. South American tour

4. Memories about Brian, Roger and John

5. Books, plays and opera

6. Before and after concerts, Michael Jackson, first memory about Freddie, what how would it be if he was still alive?

PS: So, here is our third part, and the first topic is about Freddie’s clothes for concerts. On the Hot Space tour, we can see arrows in Freddie’s clothes. What was so special for Freddie about these arrows?

PF: I don’t know. It’s just something that got into his mind. They are also in the video for “Body Language.” I think it’s just something that fascinated him at the time. He just decided he liked arrows.

PS: I see. And where exactly did you source all those arrowed vests and jackets for him, for concerts?

PF: They were actually all made in America, they were made for him. They bought the T-shirts and painted them on. And with the leather jackets and the other jackets, they just made them. There was that one big jacket he had. He only wore it, I think, once or twice. With the actual arrows sewn onto it. He literally wore it two times, I think. The reason he didn’t use it was because he couldn’t take it off on stage, because as soon as he started sweating it stuck to him. So, there was no way he could just take it off. That’s why he stopped using it. But it was just a phase he went through.

PS: Speaking about Freddie’s T-shirts, Freddie used to wear quite a few T-shirts with logos of different gay establishments, different gay clubs, such as Haven, The Works. And the question is, how exactly did he usually obtain such T-shirts? Were they given to him as presents or did he buy them?

PF: Most of them were. I mean, obviously, we offered to pay, but then the manager says, “No, no, no. Take it, take it.” Because, of course, it’s going to be good advertising for them, isn’t it?

PS: With such a superstar wearing their T-shirts. Speaking of clubs, have you ever visited the famous Studio 54 in New York?

PF: Yes, we were there quite often. Usually on the Sunday night. And, it was fine, it was good. It was the Sunday, because he went to The Saint on Saturday. It was fun, it was good. It was so very, very different because of the history that was attached to it. But it was good, it was big enough for people to hide in. If you wanted to be seen in a photograph – yes, fine, well and good. But if you didn’t, then there were plenty of places where you could just stand or sit, or whatever.

PS: In what ways was it different?

PF: I mean, the feeling of the place. Because they spent a lot of money on the interior. With all the different lighting, stage, everything was there. It had that, sort of, bit of glamour.

PS: Actually, as we mentioned the holiday of Easter at the beginning of our talk, I would like to ask you, in your understanding, was Freddie any kind of spiritual person? Maybe not religious but sort of a believer, as we can see a lot of lyrics for his songs where he mentions God.

PF: He didn’t follow any organised religion, because it’s something that he never really spoke about, because he felt that and politics were, in fact, very private to a person. But I do believe he had a faith, he did have his belief, but not in any way that we would recognise.

PS: Coming back to our topic about clubs, could you please try to remember the story about Freddie meeting one of the members of Village People in one of the clubs?

PF: I’m trying to remember which club we were in. It could actually have been The Works where we met him, because I know it was just a chance meeting. We then went to some promotion thing that the Village People were doing. And we were there, we met up with David Hodo; he was the construction worker. They became good friends, and they would meet up quite often in clubs whenever Freddie was in New York. But it was just a chance meeting.

PS: There were some kind of rumours that some accident happened to Freddie when he met one of the Village People members in a club. Do you remember anything like this?

PF: Accident, no. There was that time in one of the clubs, there was a group of us and David was there with us. I went to the toilet and told Freddie, “Just stay here.” And he says, “Yes, yes, yes.” And then I went to the toilet and when I came back, of course, he wasn’t there where he was supposed to be. And then David came and found me and said, “You better come and give Freddie a hand,” I said, “Why? What?” He said, “You have to see it.” We went round the corner and there was Freddie jumping in a big, sort of, net container where there were all the plastic cups from the drinks you just threw away. He was just jumping up and down in it, because someone had actually put something into one of his drinks, and he just had gone… happy. [laughs] So, between David and myself, we just lifted him out, took him and stood him by the bar and wouldn’t let him go anywhere.

PS: Coming back to the Hot Space times, you can be actually seen in the backstage footage of the Milton Keynes Bowl show, and you are walking together with Freddie to the stage. Can you please share any special memories about this show?

PF: The show itself, no. But the night before the show, he was bitten on his hand by his boyfriend at the time, Bill Reid. He bit him and drew blood between his thumb and his forefinger. So, Freddie was having a bit of a problem playing the piano at that show. As far as the music goes, it was another big outdoor Queen show.

PS: Speaking about the Hot Space tour, in general, what was the most specific moment or, maybe, your personal memory of it?

PF: No, not really. One tour blends into the next tour, whether it was Europe or America. When you are actually on tour, it’s basically the same every evening – soundcheck, show, out, hotel, travel to the next place. It became very much routine.

PS: As a viewer, you have seen only one Queen show, right?

PF: Yes, the show I have seen was one of the Wembley shows in 1986. It was the Friday night. He had friends over from America and he wanted me to look after them. And then Joe actually took care of him for the show.

PS: And you saw it not from the stage but as a viewer?

PF: Yeah. We were all sat in the royal box, which was, sort of, the VIP area. You don’t get any good view or anything, and this is in any show. It’s either right at the side or whatever. You don’t really see anything. It’s really a place where celebrities can go and sit so that the audience can go and see them. That’s what it was about, really.

PS: What are your memories about Freddie’s family? This is our second topic. What are your memories about Bomi and Jer.

PF: I probably saw them five times in my entire life. He tried very much to keep his music life totally separate from his family. The music side of him did not really fit with their strict Zoroastrian faith. He didn’t want to push their noses in it. He would bring them to one show each tour of Europe when they [Queen] were in London, and that would be it.

PS: Even if you saw his parents five times or something, could you remember, in general, your impression of his father? As we can see his mother, Jer, in some documentaries. But what was his father like?

PF: His father was just quiet, very, very quiet. Which was unusual in that sort of family, because normally it was the male who was dominant, and the females were submissive. But it was very much the other way round with this family. The mother did a lot more talking. I probably had more to do with them after Freddie died than when he was alive, because I talked to them to find out what they needed for the service and everything. The whole world had had him for twenty odd years, he was owned by the world, so I felt it was only right particularly at this time that his parents got what they needed. They should never be burying their son. That’s not supposed to happen. So, for them to be able to deal with the whole thing I felt it was only right to actually accommodate them with the funeral service and everything. So that’s why I say that I probably spoke more with them then than at any time before.

PS: Do you have, maybe, any kind of memories of Freddie spending time together with his sister, Kashmira?

PF: She came to Garden Lodge not even as much as his parents did, because she lived in a different city, she lived in Nottingham. If their parents came to Garden Lodge, maybe, six times, she would have been there, maybe, three. They spoke on the phone every now and then, probably not even quite as much as with his mother. It wasn’t a close, close family like so many people believe families should be, but then I fully understood it, I fully understood his feelings there.

PS: Do you find any similarities between Kashmira and Freddie? Are they in some ways like each other?

PF: I think so. But I found out a lot more in the more recent years than while Freddie was alive. She enjoys her life with what Freddie has given her. And the way she honours Freddie because Freddie gave her 25% of his money. And she’s buying these really classy, good quality jewellery and cigarette cases and everything, and then she lends them to the Victoria and Albert Museum in Freddie’s name. So, she’s enjoying the money but letting the world know that it’s only through Freddie. I admire her for that. If Freddie was to actually be seeing what she’s doing, he would be over the moon because she’s enjoying the money. So many people just cannot, but she is, she is definitely enjoying it.

PS: She has a total right to do so.

PF: Yes, very much so, because she’s doing what, I believe, Freddie would have wished her to do. Because he enjoyed his money, so that’s why he gave it to her so that she could enjoy her life, enjoy things. And, as I say, the things that she buys she lends to museums in Freddie’s name. So, he’s still there, he’s still represented. I think that’s perfect.

PS: Our third topic is about Queen’s first tour in South America, as it was a very special one. What are your favourite memories about this one, if you can try to remember?

PF: The memory that sticks in the mind was the police escort that we had going back from the first show in Argentina. There are photographs all over the place, with John Deacon playing with the gun and them travelling in an armoured truck and that sort of stuff. That was something incredible. It’s something that you could tell your grandchildren you were there, it’s one of those things. The shows themselves were wonderful because Freddie was playing to the biggest audiences that he’d ever played to at that point. And he loved it, he loved being on the stage. The memories I have are more offstage than onstage. There was the very, very quick drive from the hotel to the airport after the show in Venezuela, because the president died that day and they were going to close the country down to go into state mourning. If the band and the set and everything were still there, we would never have been allowed to leave. There were no flights, there was nothing. So, we drove so, so fast through to get out before the lockdown happened there. It was amazing. And then, of course, there was Mexico, in Puebla where there was this old, old stadium. And the backstage, you just wouldn’t believe what was there. It was just broken down, old cement and concrete. No locks on doors. There was one toilet that we had to create a sign for, so when you went in you put “Engaged”, and when you came out you put “Vacant”. There was no lock on the door. And then, of course, that was where there was the problem with the crowd. The band didn’t know anything about, none of us did until afterwards. The reason that batteries and everything were thrown at them on the stage was because, apparently, before the fans could go in, the police took all the batteries out of recorders, cameras and everything, so none of the show could be recorded or filmed. But then when they were inside, the crowd could buy their batteries back. And the crowd thought that this was part of a deal with Queen and that’s why they started throwing stuff at them.

PS: Very extreme concerts, right?

PF: But when Freddie was on stage, he thoroughly enjoyed it. It really fulfilled his dreams.

PS: The fourth topic is: A lot of people ask you about Freddie, but we must remember that actually you were quite close with all Queen members. My question is about each of them. What are your special memories or stories? Let’s start with Brian.

PF: There’s a photograph. There was Brian, myself and Brian’s security. We were down by the pool. I cannot remember which hotel. I was lying on the grass in the sun and Brian was there and we were chatting. And then his bodyguard came and just sat on me. There’s a photograph of it on the internet. And Brian just sat there laughing. He just laughed and laughed and laughed, and didn’t do anything to help me.

PS: Any special memory about Roger in all those years with Queen?

PF: Again, this was in South America where he and I had a go-kart race, there was this amazing go-kart track near one of the cities. I was out there with Roger, there was a group of us out there. We had this amazing race. Because he loves cars, he’s always driving cars. He decided he was going to be champion go-kart driver. That was fun. All the things are fun that we did. John had the family with him [in South America] some of the time. I used to babysit his children. I think there were three boys at the time. There’s photographs round and about of me with John’s children playing around at the airport. I was there to make sure to keep an eye on them. The off-duty times were really good memories.

PS: The fifth topic. Freddie, in one of his interviews, said that he considered reading books not a very interesting activity. Could you please try to remember whether there was some certain book or books that had an important meaning for Freddie?

PF: In the twelve years I knew him, I never saw a book in his hand. He would read magazines, like Architectural Digest, because he just loved furnishing things inside the house, on the properties he owned. But I never really saw him reading a book. But, saying that, with the intelligence that he had, he must have read books. I think probably they are things that he learnt at school. He was very clever. I finished the boarding school at eleven, and he carried on until he was seventeen, so he probably would have learnt so much more that I did. But I never saw him with a book in his hand.

PS: In that case, could you please try to remember any theatre play or opera libretto that he liked because of the storyline or the characters?

PF: It started off as a play but then it was made into a film. He saw the play in London when they put it on. And it was called “The Women”. He found that fascinating. It was a comedy film about how women dealt with divorce and separation and love, and all that sort of thing. It was just very quick-witted. He loved everything. You had to listen carefully to understand the joke. In so many of these films, they do short, quick sentences. He would pay attention to those sort of things. That one he went to because he wanted to see the play. Most of the time, he went to see plays because of the people who were in it. His friends would invite him to a show. I bought the tickets and took him to see the play “Little Foxes” in New York, and not because he would be interested in the play or what’s going on, it was purely because Elizabeth Taylor was the star. A lot of the time, he went to these things because of who was in it rather than what it was.

PS: Was there any opera libretto that he liked the most because of the story or characters?

PF: Not specifically for story and characters, because anything that Montserrat could sing, he just loved listening to her voice. He didn’t have to know the story behind it. It’s just as well because in most operas you don’t understand the story, because this mother lost this son, he was taken away by someone else, or she stole another one, and then this son falls in love with this person but that’s his sister. You know, you really do not want to know the stories of operas, you just want to listen to them.

PS: Speaking about you, what are your favourite books and writers?

PF: It really depends on my mood at the time. Actually, I do quite like Stephen King, but not everything that he’s done. I mean, I like the general style of his writing, of his books. Operas, I have about 1,500 operas in mp3’s and on physical CD’s. And I will listen to one every day. It just really depends on the mood. Mainly things written by Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti and Verdi. The storyline is almost always the same, except if it’s based on a historic fact. It’s always a love story, sometimes it ends happily and other times she dies of consumption or she dies of something else. As I say, generally, you don’t pay attention to the words. I ask so many people, when they listen to a song for the first time, do they listen to the music or do they listen to the words? The vast majority of people listen to the music first. It’s the same with opera. He had to be able to read music, although he might say he couldn’t because he did those piano exams. You have to read music. But I don’t think he was so interested to actually pick up a school. He would not sit at the piano and play something from notes. That he couldn’t do, he just would create it himself.

PS: Speaking about Stephen King, as you mentioned him, do you like his book “The Shining” and the film with Jack Nicholson?

PF: Very good. That one I like very much. I like “The Shining”. I thought the book adaptation was actually very, very good. Another one that I like of his was “Salem’s Lot”; there is a miniseries made of that which actually reflected the book very, very well. Because Stephen King is involved with the films of his books most of the time, they tend to be much better versions of the books than so many films. So many films are supposed to be based on a book than have all of the director’s own ideas and what it should be like and everything else. So, when you look at the film, you actually wonder if you’re looking at the right film.

PS: Must agree with this. As a close friend of Freddie, as a writer yourself and as a book lover, here’s a special question: With whom could you compare Freddie amongst fictional characters from books?

PF: [laughs] Oh brother! There isn’t one. [laughs] Not in anything I’ve read that Freddie could compare with. I mean, maybe, there’s a little bit of Freddie in so many different characters. For example, Sir John Falstaff. I don’t remember which Shakespeare play he’s in, but he’s in a couple of operas. And just that character, I can see a bit of Freddie in there. Anything passionate I can see Freddie in. Anything with a love story in it, because that’s what he was always looking for. Anyone specific, no, I don’t think that exists. So, a book would have to be written around him.

PS: The next topic is: What was Freddie’s excitement like right before going on stage? Was he mostly visibly excited or otherwise calm and deep inside himself before the show?

PF: Really, most of the time when I was there with him getting ready for the show, there was always a rule that everybody, all friends and family had to be out of the dressing room at least half an hour before the show. They would have to sit in the guest room, so the band could, sort of, concentrate. In Freddie’s mind, there was no reason to panic because the show was going to happen whether he panicked or not. He was actually quite calm going into a show. He would pump himself up but on his own. He would just move his arms around and jump a little bit. And it wasn’t the excitement, it was just to get the body moving because he knew what he’d appear on the stage. His body would not stop moving for an hour and a half, two hours. He had to basically warm the body up a bit. Vocally, he would do a little bit of vocal exercises, but not specific exercises, he would just hit notes to try and place his voice, so he had some idea of what he was going to do that night. But there was no visible excitement. I suppose, perhaps, there was more excitement in South America than any other show that I was at, because of the size of the audience and because it was a first. Any of the shows they did in South America were a first, they’d never been done before. There was a bit of excitement because he didn’t know what was going to happen. When he was touring the normal America, Europe, it was things he’d done before, so he knew what to expect.

PS: Speaking about backstage before the concert, we can actually see you walking with Freddie in Los Angeles, and there we can also see Michael Jackson. Do you remember this show and Michael backstage with Freddie?

PF: Again, there’s pictures of it. That was more after the show where Freddie went into the guest room. They actually started in the dressing room, because nobody was allowed in the dressing room half an hour before and half an hour after while they got changed. But once they had come down from the show, a few special guests would be allowed into the dressing room, but then the band would go into the green room where all the artists and guests were. I remember seeing Freddie talking with Michael. It was just interesting for me to see these two who were at the peak of their performances, although they were so different but they were so similar. I know it sounds stupid, but that’s what I felt.

PS: What is your favourite memory of you and Freddie visiting Michael?

PF: There’s too many, I suppose. For me, it’s playing video games with Michael Jackson, because he had this big room where he had the arcade versions of video games. He just picked one and called Freddie and me over, and we were playing. There was this old-fashioned tennis thing. An oblong screen and on each side, you had a pedal that you moved up and down to hit the ball. We were playing that. It was wonderful. It was actually in Encino, the house before Neverland, the house that his mother lives in now. But, I suppose, the thing that I took away with me from that day was purely the fact that Michael didn’t treat me any differently than how he treated Freddie. Whatever happened in his life, whatever the truth is, the way that man treated me will stay with me all of my life because, as I say, it was no different at all from how he treated Freddie.

PS: He was very open to you, right?

PF: Yes.

PS: Speaking about the opposite of the before stage time, what was Freddie like after the concert? What was his mood mostly like?

PF: Mostly, he was up. In the dressing room, immediately after the show, there would be shouting and screaming for anything that went wrong. They always wanted to give a perfect show, and when they couldn’t it was hard. They would really get it out of their system. But once that had been done, he was generally always in a good mood. He just couldn’t wait to get out. I understand why he was out every night, because you cannot go to bed after a show like that, you’re just so full of adrenaline it just wouldn’t work.

PS: It’s like the second wave coming?

PF: Yeah. All the adrenaline that appeared during the stage show had to go somewhere, it doesn’t drain off in five minutes. That’s why he was out until four or five in the morning.

PS: At what time did Freddie usually go to sleep?

PF: It depends on what we were doing. I would think that average time would be between three and four.

PS: Three and four in the morning, right?

PF: Yeah. Sometimes he might go at two, and if he was in the studio, sometimes he might go to bed at six.

PS: How many hours did he usually sleep?

PF: He was usually awake by nine o’clock, so he would normally sleep for six or seven hours.

PS: Did he have any kind of repeated night dreams that he, maybe, told you about?

PF: No, nothing like that. He never told me anything. He would say he had a good night or a bad night but wouldn’t really go into description of dreams.

PS: You mentioned many times that your favourite Freddie song is “My Melancholy Blues.” Could you please try to describe why it is your favourite song?

PF: Yeah, because it’s so very, very different, because as soon as you mention the name Queen you automatically think of big harmonies, multilayered guitars, just huge songs. And this was just the total opposite. It’s just got a piano, a bass, a bit of drums and a voice. It’s all so partly autobiographical of Freddie’s party. He used to have so many parties, but in the end the party’s over, he would find someone else. The party doesn’t have to be a party with drinks and all the rest of it, it could just be a good time he had with someone. It’s just the total opposite of your classic Queen song. It’s just so quiet, it’s so personal.

PS: Could you please quote your favourite line from the lyrics?

PF: I suppose it has to be the opening line. “Another party’s over and I’m left stone cold sober.” It’s just Freddie, it sums up Freddie.

PS: Was he really a bit sentimental and sad when the real parties were over?

PF: Sentimental, maybe, but not sad, because most parties that he had were usually a success, so he would be happy and sentimental. The thing is, if that one’s over, there can always be a next one. There’s no need to be sad.

PS: What is your very, very first memory and image of Freddie when you first met him?

PF: Oh, that’s easy, I know exactly. He’s not very tall, is he? He was 175 cm and I was 187 cm. I looked down at him. You look, everybody imagines Freddie to be a giant because of the videos, because of the way he is on stage. He just looks huge. So many videos are shot from just a little bit looking upwards which makes him look taller. It was great, just looking at him and thinking, “He’s not tall.” His personality, his aura certainly made up for that, because he could walk into a room and every head would turn. They could feel Freddie Mercury had walked into the room.

PS: The very first moment you saw him, did he walk into the room or did you walk into the room where he already was?

PF: I walked into the room because he was already there talking with some friends. This was after the Royal Ballet Gala. And then he, sort of, looked, he wasn’t talking and looking around, and I just went to him and I just had to tell him how wonderful I thought the whole evening was. It wasn’t like he was this massive great superstar who I was scared of, because I’d been dealing with stars for the last four years and people who he considered were real big stars. He often used to say how proud he was of the fact that he took me away from the opera house where real big stars performed.

PS: What was his response to your comments about his show? What was your first conversation like?

PF: It was strange because I expected it to be rock’n’roll, rough, the way he talked on stage, but he was polite, he was a gentleman. That was all totally unexpected, because you expect a rock’n’roll star just to have the words ready on the end of his tongue for this and that. And the only reason that he spoke with me, because normally he would not speak to a total stranger, was because his friends were around him. One of them could easily have taken him away if he wasn’t happy. That’s all he needed. But then we started talking and it was it. I mean, it was just a three- or four-minute conversation, not a lot. As I say, from the very start, I could not be over how polite he was.

PS: So it was enough for him to spend, like, four or five minutes with you to later contact you and ask you to work with him on tour?

PF: Yes. As I say, whatever happened in those four or five minutes obviously worked because of that phone call a week later. I can imagine, he would be talking with Paul Prenter because they were going out on tour and they didn’t have anybody looking after their costumes because Dane had walked out. I can imagine him, “Look, I was talking to someone, he does costumes at the opera house for the ballet. Why don’t we try and call him?” I can imagine how it was because I know him and what he was like.

PS: As you mentioned Paul Prenter, was there anything good in Freddie’s relationship with him? Do you remember any good moments with Paul Prenter?

PF: He kept Freddie happy for a lot of the time. He kept Freddie company. Freddie was never alone when he was around. Paul was always there. But he’s got that bad reputation and all the rest of it, which sort of he’s deserved. He did care about Freddie.

PS: Concluding our final part, Freddie Mercury would have been 75 years old this year, but if we imagine Freddie was born, let’s say, in 1986 and if he was only 35 years old today in the year 2021, in our modern times, what do you think he would be like today?

PF: That’s so hard to say because life is so different. At that age, he would have grown up with computers. If things still carried on like they have done, I don’t think he would be happy because people don’t buy albums anymore, they don’t buy CD’s, they don’t buy physical, everything is “download.” Part of the joy for him was designing the album covers. He hated working at home, he refused to work at home. But nowadays you have to work at home and then take your music into the studio to get it mixed. I don’t think he would be really comfortable in this time. Because there’s no music like Queen have done, that doesn’t exist anymore. There are no bands who do things like that anymore. Or the bands that do, they are all in their 70s. His music would go nowhere. I also personally believe we are all here where we’re supposed to be. I think, if Freddie had a real big choice, he would have been born fifty years earlier because he was that sort of Victorian, Edwardian gentleman. He was a real gentleman. And that sort of existence wasn’t around when Freddie would have been able to enjoy it. But then, how many rock stars do you know that have had at one point the largest private collection of antique Japanese woodblock prints? That just isn’t rock’n’roll, is it?

PS: And if he was 75 this year, in his 70s, what would he be like today?

PF: He would be miserable because he never ever wanted to be old. As you get older, you cannot physically do what you used to do. A 70-year-old cannot, in the very, very best of health, do what a 30-year-old can do. It’s just physically impossible. That deterioration would have upset him so much.

PS: If Freddie could talk to the new generation, our present teenagers and young people of today, what would his message to them have been?

PF: The thing I always got from him was that he cared for others just as much as he cared for himself. He did not put himself first, above anybody else. He just wanted to treat everybody nicely. That’s what he was like. And I think that’s what he would try and tell people nowadays because that doesn’t exist very much either anymore. Because this now is a world of “me, me, me.”

PS: So his message, in general, would be something like “You should take care of each other more”?

PF: Take care of each other, yeah.

PS: And if he could talk to exactly Queen fans, what would his message be today?

PF: “Well, just carry on and enjoy the music.” Because that’s something that all the Queens fans did. They loved the music. They’re the ones who are keeping it going now and creating new fans. So many students say to me, “My mother and father were huge Queen fans.” It’s going through the generations. Freddie has been gone thirty years, but people are still listening to his music as much now as they ever did.

PS: And we all hope that people will continue to listen to his music.

PF: No reason why not. We still listen to Rimsky-Korsakov, we still listen to Mozart. And they’re long gone.

PS: And he will be remembered for thirty, fifty and more years.

PF: I remember, this was a few years ago, when it was Mozart’s 250th birthday or something. And I did an interview and I said it would not surprise me at all that if in two hundred years people would still listening to Queen music, as they were still listening to Mozart. Because good music carries on.

PS: Let it be this way in years to come.

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