#like my professional ipod

[oflorelei]

an asoiaf game but instead of alive companions I get the ghost of Rhaegar who poetically lore drops via song whenever I find some cursed stuff

[thenightisland]

where i work i can't bring my phone or a tablet in so my solution has been to just bring my decade old ipod nano so i could listen to music and podcasts but i recently realized i could download youtube videos and put them on there and watch them on the tiny ipod screen and i have used my newfound powers almost exclusively to just rewatch "what the internet did to garfield" at work

[god-has-entered-my-body]

What time you coming out? - M.H x Reader // pt.1

A/N: Lenas writer debut??? Omg??? This has a bunch of references to fics like the cellophane house (written by the lovely @vinylandcoffeecollection, srsly check out their work!). It's a bit angsty? Not really but angst will come this is a chaptered fic. Based off fallingforyou, hence the title. Thank you @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading and putting up with me xx

wc: 11k

part two

February, 2008

“I'm not sure we should be doing this, neither of us is a professional hairdresser in any capacity” 

Mötley Crüe’s ‘Public Enemy #1’ blares through the small speaker set on top of the toilet lid, the music reverberating off the bathroom's tiled walls. Matty attempts to brush the bleach onto your hair, narrowly missing your eyebrow for what felt like the sixth time. You'd prefer to not come out of this situation looking like 90s madonna if you could help it. 

“Could you maybe not get the stuff on my face? I'm not sure I'd look as amazing as I do with bleached brows,” you say, flicking Mattys hand away from your hair, straightening your posture on top of the sink. Your elbow accidently knocks into the faucet and you curse out loud. 

“You're right love, you'd look well hideous without brows” Matty retorts, laughing in your face. He's right, doesn't mean he has to say it.

“At least I have any sort of eyebrows, I'd get yours filled in if I was you.” Now it's your turn to laugh at him, his jaw hitting the floor at your comment. He clutches his chest with his hand, bending over for dramatic effect as if to say: “You wound me”. You fall into each other's arms, fighting over the ipod once again.

The song changes, and Matty resumes his attempts at bleaching your hair properly, failing once again. It had been a stupid, stoned impulse decision to buy the bleach at all. The local drugstore sold it for cheap, and you had some pocket change on you. Matty wanted you to buy the red dye, and you dismissed him immediately, because even he knew you'd look absolutely terrible as a redhead. 

You hum along softly to David Bowie's “Suffragette City”. Bowie was your Idol. The song reminds you of him. Of Matty. It reminds you of when you first met.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were 15, pacing the street late at night, your boyfriend was blowing up your phone. Insincere apologies and “i love you”’s filled your screen. 4 missed calls. Tears were streaming down your face, making you not quite able to see straight. 

The song playing, was blaring in your headphones, almost deafening. The song didn't fit at all to your current situation, but that didn't bother you.

It wasn't long before you reached a bus stop, sitting down. You didn't even know where you were. 

Suddenly, like it was out of your control, you let out broken sobs, no longer silently crying. How fucking embarrassing.

You're not sure how long you’d been sitting there, in the dark, shivering in the cruel November weather. 

You hadn't even noticed the person walking up to you. 

He’d positioned himself in front of you, twisting his neck to get a look underneath your hood.

“You alright?” his voice sounded soft, concerned even. Through muffled sobs, you managed to look up at him. 

He had a thick, fluffy jacket on. Oddly feminine for bloke, and you were pretty sure it was a women's coat. It basically swallowed him whole. You almost laughed at the sight. It almost made you forget about the night's events. 

You’d had yet another fight with your boyfriend, Phillip. The two of you fought a lot, but never like this. Sure, he’d said some hurtful things, things you maybe shouldn't have forgiven as quickly as you did, but he had never, ever, gotten violent with you. Until tonight.

You'd barely registered it when it happened, your brain not properly processing his actions. In the midst of his screaming, he raised his hand. Raised. his. hand. 

It came down with a crash against your left cheek, the sound echoing through the house. Because he did, in fact, have his own flat. Because 24 year olds usually have that. 

Everything hit you at once. You'd managed to pick yourself up off the ground at a speed which would have given even world record holders a run for their money. You didn't bother grabbing anything else, you just needed to get out, now. 

You could faintly hear his voice calling out from behind you, begging you to please, please come back. And what? Let him put his hands on you again? No way. A rare moment of clarity.

Fucking cunt 

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the stranger's voice. 

“I’m Matty.” he offered his hand, and you shook it. “What're you doing out here in the cold? Its fuckin’ freezing.” He's right, it was cold. It hadn't occurred to you to take your coat with you.

You stuttered out a pathetic response of your name, barely making eye contact with him. A few beats pass before Matty starts ruffling around in his coat pockets. Raising your eyebrows, you watch him.

You can hear the faint sound of keys in his right pocket, and it's not long before he pulls out a joint from his left. It looks crumpled and old, like it had been there for a while. 

“Spliff? It looks like you need it more than me.” He chuckles, and it somehow makes you feel better. He makes a move to sit next to you, and you twitch slightly when his shoulder touches yours. The bench is quite narrow, so you know it's not on purpose. It doesn't bother you quite as much as it should, given he is a stranger. 

He takes out his lighter. It looks old and used, the black plastic chipping off around the top. It looks like it's a miracle it even works. You can see white writing along the side of it. M.H. Initials? His initials? Matty H something.  

He starts burning the tip. Rotating the joint to get an even burn, you watch his movements closely, taking in some of his features. 

His hair was curly but frizzy, you could tell he didn't pay it much mind. His features seemed soft, almost feminine. He was clean shaven, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dark brown of his hair. 

Matty lets you take the first drag, stating “The first hit’s the best, and I've always been a gentleman”, flashing a grin your way. That made you laugh. You take a drag, letting the warm feeling spread through your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked timidly, his voice lowering. 

“Absolutely not.” You mutter, looking him straight in the eyes for what seems like the first time that night. A smile.  

��-------------------------------------------------------

“D’you think I'd look good as a blonde? I feel like I'd smash it,” Matty says, inspecting his hair in the mirror behind you. He has gorgeous locks, and you're constantly telling him to try and take care of them, he just doesn't listen. You study his features before giving him an answer.

“Maybe. Either that or you'd look like a bad hooker,” Matty gasps, shoving your shoulder in protest. The movement  makes your elbow bang against the faucet again, but you ignore the pain this time 

“I'll let you know i'd make an amazing hooker, thanks very much,” He proclaims quite loudly, making the both of you burst into a laughing fit. 

You take the brush from Matty, twirling in your hand. George had taught you how to do that. An idea pops into your head. 

“We could give you a few blonde highlights, just to try it out. There's no need for you to go full Elle Woods immediately” A giggle escapes your lips, picturing Matty with long, blonde hair. That’d be a sight. 

“Let's do it, right now,” he breathes, visibly excited.

“Really? Adam’d take the absolute piss out of you, you know.” Matty rolls his eyes obnoxiously before he speaks. “Well then let Adam hold on to his toxic ideas of masculinity, I need a change.” This piques your interest. Matty? Need a change? Weird. 

“What, did some bird break your heart this time? That's new, even for you Matthew,”

You can see him visibly cringe at your use of his full name. You know he hates it, and that is exactly why you do it. Getting a rise out of him is your favorite pastime. 

“Switch with me then,” you say, and he obliges, letting you hop off the counter. You mix up a new batch of bleach and part off his hair into small sections. Little pink hair bands hold his curls in place. You shoot him a look and he nods, giving you the go-ahead. The bleach goes on smoothly, your practiced hand much less prone to mistakes than Mattys.

It doesn't take long before you're both sitting on your bed with foils in your hair. You manage to snap a picture of Matty on your polaroid camera. The light reflects off the foils, distorting the picture slightly. Matty demands to see it, but you decide to keep it for yourself. Can't get everything you want.  

It's Mattys' turn on the music. 

You've decided on a turn system for music when you're together, to avoid the gnarly fights you used to have over who gets to control the ipod.

He picks the latest Deftones album. It's not really your taste, and you tell him as much. 

“S’not my fault your music taste consists of pop trash. Get well soon”, now it's your turn to shove him, and he almost falls off the bed. Your fights over music happened frequently. He insisted on listening to real music, while you couldn't care less if it sounded good. 

The timer dings and you both get up to wash your hair in the sink. Water splashes everywhere, absolutely soaking the bathroom. You don't care. It's just water. 

Towels litter the bathroom floor, soaking up the mess. Matty helps you dry your hair after you promise to help with his. The warm air feels nice on your neck. 

“I like it, it makes me look camp,” Matty states, admiring himself in the mirror. Of course he'd say something like that. 

“You look great, now get dressed, I've messaged Hann. He's picking us up at half 11” 

Adam was one of your best mates, and the only one who had a car. You and Matty were still in school, along with George, another one of your friends. Adam and Ross shared a flat on the outskirts of the city. Adam's mother had gifted him a car for his 18th birthday last year. A bright red Kia. Bumper stickers littered the back, your favorite reading ‘Vehicle of legends” 

Matty had borrowed one of your tops, specifically, a mesh top you'd gotten from Hollister a few weeks prior. It was adorned with a black tank top underneath, paired with the black skinny jeans you're convinced have fused with his legs at this point. 

His hair had dried, dark curls now in contrast with blonde streaks. They framed his face. He looked good. 

You’d gone for a more colorful ensemble, opting for baggy jeans instead of skinny ones. The bottom had already been well ripped up from years of dragging them on the ground. You paired said jeans with a wine-red off the shoulder jumper, the black strap of your bralette peaking out. You’d always loved that color. It reminded you of your favorite flowers, red roses.

The window closed softly, and you silently thanked God you lived on the first floor. Adam was already parked down the road from your house, impatiently waiting for the two of you. The radio was playing as you got in. Matty immediately started going on about how pop music has ruined the music scene and how it was all 'soulless, meaningless droning' and 'had no feeling anymore'. He always did this, and you'd learned to tune it out by then. 

The drive was short, and you arrived at your destination not long after you’d set off. The air smelled like water and wet pavement. It had been pissing down earlier in the day.  

‘The spot’ was an abandoned paper factory, affectionately renamed “Caroline's house” for any eavesdropping parents.  

Carolines had been abandoned for well over 5 years before you started hanging out there, not many knew about it.

The three of you had already made your way through the back entrance. The front had been blocked off years ago, a futile attempt at keeping kids out. There was one specific room you always went to, and that was the office. It had a huge terrace with an amazing view of the city below. The glowing lights made you feel small and irrelevant in the vastness of the world. 

The night was bright under the full moon, making it easy to see outside. Adam always brought an emergency flashlight with him when you went to Carolines. He was the voice of reason in the midst of the chaos. The responsible one. He always made sure everyone got home safe, talked your way out of situations with coppers on multiple occasions, and knew when to tell the bartender to switch drinks to water or juice. You’d always thank him the morning after. 

“What even is your shirt, mate,” Adam asked with a grin on his face. He loved to take the piss out of Matty for his camp-ness. No harm no foul, Matty would do the exact same to him when the opportunity presented itself. Eyeing him up and down, he shook his head and went back to picking at his nails.   

“She let me borrow it for tonight. Looks good, yeah?” Matty shoots back. 

“Yeah sure, that and those white streaks in your hair make you look like a proper girl, you know” 

You have to laugh at his statement, because it does ring true. From a certain distance, anyone could mistake Matty for a woman. 

“You wish I was a girl, it’d make you feel less guilty about your sex fantasies, innit?” Matty cackles at his own words. Adam chucks a lighter at him, and misses. It instead bounces off the railing of the terrace and clatters down onto the ground somewhere behind you. 

That was your cue to take out the small baggy from the pocket of your jeans. Going to look for the lighter Adam had just thrown, you turn around to see he’d already snatched your papes and weed, and started to roll a spliff. 

“Oh come on, I look away for a second and you steal my weed. What, are you too broke to buy your own?” You huffed, sitting down on the floor next to him. 

“Girls don't roll their own spliffs. You should know that by now, love” he said with a wink. 

Cue eye roll. 

“Oh thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Hann? Fuck off.” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. This was never a display of chivalry, it was simply Adams' way of trying to get under your skin. Your stubborn self wouldn't let him, of course. Flashing him an award winning smile, you lay back on your elbows and eye him as he rolls your joint for you. 

Matty was preoccupied with gathering enough cardboard so he could sit on the floor comfortably. The three of you couldn't be arsed bringing in furniture from the office, so you were left with the cold, unforgiving concrete floor of the terrace to sit on. 

The minutes ticked by and Adam took his sweet time, presenting the spliff with a look of pride. You reach for it, seeing as you already had the lighter in your hand. Instead of handing it to you. Adam shakes his head. 

“Girls dont light their own spliffs, either” You scoff at that, though deciding against smacking him upside the head. You hand him the lighter.  

Mattys giggles can be faintly heard over your bickering, and Adam finally lights up. The distinct earthy smell fills up the air around you. They both let you have the first drag, stating something along the lines of “Ladies first” another eye roll.  

“Fucking wankers”, you mutter under your breath, and finally, you inhale. It hits you almost immediately, a soft, fuzzy feeling that reverberates through your veins into every inch of your body. The two of them let out a laugh at your expression, utterly euphoric. 

Adam takes the next drag, hitting him just as hard as it did you. He leans against the glass sliding door, letting his eyes droop closed. 

“Fucking hell, this is some strong weed.” He lets out a rough cough, “Where’d you even get it from?” 

“Oh y’know, just some guy. Same as always I s’pose,” 

Matty spoke “What, d’you shag him or something? No one just gives out this type of premium stuff on a whim,” 

This makes you chuck the grinder at him. It hits him square in the chest. You hum contentedly, grinning at him in amusement when he doubles over in pain. You bicker back and forth, calling each other names. Adam passes the spliff back to you, and you take another hit. 

Time passes slowly. The clouds slowly reveal more and more of the full moon. It is quite beautiful tonight, you notice. 

Adam produces a bottle of tequila from his ‘gay-ass tote bag’ as Ross calls it. You take turns taking swigs straight from the bottle, Matty managing to spill some onto his mesh top, making quite literally everything reek of alcohol.

You felt good. The high mixed with the healthy amount of tequila made you feel like you were floating. You could tell Matty was just as hammered as you, seeing as he was now straddling Adams lap, trying to kiss him. 

After multiple attempts at getting him off, Matty stood up on his own, stating that he didn't want Hann to pop a boner au cause de his womanly features.   

The three of you laugh and laugh until you finish the spliff. You’d never had a good tolerance for anything, whether it be weed or alcohol. You weren't particularly small, it just always hit you way harder than Adam or Ross. Even Matty managed to pull himself together when the situation called for it. You, however, were stumbling and tripping over your feet the entire walk home. It had been pissing down the entire morning. Puddles littered the streets, not an ideal weather for someone who was too wasted to even have any sort of depth perception.  

Adam had to leave suddenly, picking up a last minute shift at the shop he worked at. It was in the opposite direction of where you came from, leaving you and Matty to walk home. 

It wasn't a long walk, 30 odd minutes or so. It was made significantly longer by your inability to walk in a straight line to save your life. Echoing laughs filled the streets as Matty helped you trudge along. Your pants dragged on the floor as usual, which meant they were also dragging through the numerous puddles, soaking them. 

You stop suddenly, looking down and pouting at the darkened material of your pants. For some inexplicable reason, this made you stomp your feet like a child. Matty broke out in uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in his eyes. You were actually acting like a child.

“I don't know why you insist on wearing those insanely baggy pants. Look at me! My pants don't get wet AND my ass looks phenomenal in skinny jeans” He twirls around you, making you feel slightly dizzy.

“Oh fuck off!! Not everyone is an attention slag like you, have some decency for once in your life!” You retort, shoving him out of your line of sight. Due to your state, Matty quickly catches up to you. 

The steps of your house come quicker than expected. Both of you make your way to the east side of the first floor, where your bedroom window remains slightly ajar. You'd wedged an old shirt between it to keep it from closing all the way. You'd gotten sneaking out down to an art, always knowing when, where and how. Your mother had caught you once. It was your first time. You knew not to make those same mistakes again.

Matty helped you hop onto the windows ledge, his hands grabbing at your sides. While he looked frail, Matty was actually quite strong, lifting you up without breaking a sweat. 

You're sitting on the edge, slightly taller than him now. Peering down, you reach your arms out. The two of you hugged tightly, whispering quiet “goodnight”s and “sleep well”s. Saying goodbye after a night out often felt strangely melancholic, you never wanted the other to leave. 

You've been attached at the hip since that night. He’d convinced you to break up with Phillip, stating he was a bastard who shouldn't be allowed near women ever again.

Matty went on to introduce you to his mates after you’d found out you went to the same highschool. That was nearly 3 years ago now. 

Late nights often make you wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to that specific bus stop and met Matty. If he had ignored your crying instead of offering you weed and sitting down next to you. He’d always been charming, like a magnet, he attracted everyone around him. Sure, he was a bit pretentious at times, but everyone has their faults. 

You roll over and try to sleep, slowly coming down from your high. You made a mental note to take it easy next time, maybe pace yourself. It was hard to know your limits when it came to substances, and Matty was the same way. Adam was the ever responsible one, never too drunk or high, always the parent. You were grateful for him, knowing what situations you'd be stuck in if Adam had not been there to smooth things over. 

The tiredness hits you in waves. Glancing at the clock left of your desk, it read 3:26 am. Fuck. You try to ignore the fact that you had to be up in about 4 hours. You close your eyes, welcoming the rest. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh knocking sounded from the direction of your window, scaring the shit out of you. You bolt up, pissed at the disturbance. Turning to face the window, and are met with a familiar grin. Matty. 

It takes all of 5 seconds of him being in your room before you start cursing at him for waking you up like that. He simply shrugs his shoulders and sits in his designated chair. A maroon sofa chair in the corner in front of your bed. It even has M.H carved into the wood, because Matty had some sort of fetish for carving his initials into things. A sign of ownership? It made you wonder. 

Shuffling around the room, you kick your still wet jeans off into the corner, instead picking up a denim skirt. You’d wanted to wear that same red top to school, but seeing as you had fallen asleep wearing it, you chucked it into the same corner as the pants. 

A pink baby tee caught your eye from the chair Matty was sitting in. You silently point at it and he passes it to you. This isn't the first time you've changed in front of him. It didn't happen often, but what was the point of kicking him out? It's not like he was actively staring anyway.

After quickly changing, you go to put on some makeup. Makeup made you feel pretty, pretty enough to go outside. The only person who sees your bare face regularly is Matty. Maybe George. You didn't go anywhere without it.

You can feel Matty looking at you from the corner of your eye. Raising your eyebrows at him, you ask him what he's staring at. 

“D’you reckon i can try some of that?” he gestures vaguely at the eyeshadow brush in your hand “I think i’d look class with my new highlights.” he twirls his hair around his finger, giving you a look.

You look at him skeptically, before breaking out into a smile. Matty smiles back. It's not long before he’s sat in front of you, wincing whenever the brush makes contact with his eyelid. You tell him hes just not used to it, and to just stay still, for fucks sake. 

Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work. You have to admit, he looks good. Really good. His eyes were lined with a dark purple shadow, making them appear slightly bigger. He takes his fingers, slightly smudging the out corners, giving him a catty look. 

“I think you might even look even better than me,” you say, looking him up and down. This is one of those rare moments where you can't read Mattys' expression at all. Finally, he opens his mouth

“No one could look better than you, trust me,”  

A beat of silence before he speaks again

“I do look ravishing though, d’you reckon Adam'll like this more than the highlights?” He always manages to make himself laugh. Then in typical Matty fashion, he pulls out a beat up looking joint from the pocket of his too tight jeans. 

“Fancy a spliff?” 

“Matty, for christ's sake, we have school in about an hour, and you want to smoke now?” 

“It's the only true way to get through Mr. Henderson's maths class, you know it'll be unbearable if we don't.” translation: please smoke with me. He gives you a look, because you know he's right. 

It was too late to protest. He’d already made his way to open your window, knowing how much you hate stinking up your room.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you find your place next to him. 

The wind and rain had calmed down, so Matty had no difficulty lighting it. The smell filled your senses, almost overwhelming you. You were thankful for the fresh air.

He placed the spliff between your lips, watching you intently as you inhaled. Your orange lip gloss had rubbed off the filter, and transferred onto his lips. The weed wasnt as strong as last nights, but still, the sight of Mattys glossed lips made you break out into a fit of giggles. Time seemed irrelevant up until the point you had to run to catch your bus. Sweaty and out of breath, you sat down in your usual spot. 

You can hear comments and insults being thrown at Matty from the back of the bus, but neither of you paid much mind. Matty was high as a kite, and too loopy (hungover) from the previous night to offer up one of his witty retorts. Instead, both of you gave them the bird from over the seat.

Matty was leaning against you, his arms hooked into yours. Neither of you spoke, listening to the soft rumbling of the bus. You stank of weed, anyone could smell it on you. Remembering a perfume bottle in your handbag, you take it out and douse yourself, as well as Matty in it. 

“Oh for fucks sake, now everything smells like Jimmy Choo Illicit!” Matty whined, burying his head in his hands. “Couldn't you have picked a manlier perfume? I'm already walking a very thin line with all of this” He vaguely gestures to himself. 

“Would you rather get kicked out after coming to school smelling like a fucking dispensary? Think ahead, Matthew!” He cringes visibly

“No need to get out the full government name, jesus” he shuffles up against you, and you can see his eyes are a light shade of red. There's no way the two of you would get through first lesson unnoticed. 

George was already waiting for you guys at your stop. Greeting him with a hug, you try to avoid eye contact, yet somehow, he knows. 

“Hey, you alright-?” He cranes his neck to get a better look at your face 

“Are you–? Are you high??” He laughs out loud, smacking your arm to stabilize himself. You shoot him a death stare, but you can feel a laugh coming too. Matty let out a sarcastic haha before kicking George as a way to say get on with it, we have class.

The walk to the room through the sea of people in the halls feels like a claustrophobic hell. B.O ridden teenagers rub up against the three of you, some even (quite violently) shoving past. 

It's a miracle you make it without Matty losing his mind at one of the hecklers. School was actual hell for Matty, and by proxy, you. Insults were thrown at him without a second thought, and the makeup he’d adorned today surely didn't help the comments.

He never let it truly get to him. He didn't care, and that's what you loved so much about him. This part of the city was set back about fifteen years in terms of acceptance and progressivity, so his flowery backpack and femininity wasn't exactly welcomed.

Adam had always taken the piss out of him for his outfits since they were boys, but he never, ever meant it seriously. They were like brothers, those two, and no amount of shit from other people (irrelevants, as Matty would put it) would be able to break them apart. 

The way the room was set up, there were six tables of four, with two people always facing another two. You had sat in the seat next to George, with Matty sitting (well, more like laying) across the other two chairs opposite you. Mr. Henderson had given up on trying to get Matty to sit right a long time ago, instead just flat out ignoring him. It was always easier to fail than to teach. 

“Fucking poofter, that one,” you can hear someone saying from behind you. You know they mean Matty. 

Matty blows them both a kiss before getting flipped off by the shorter one. He loved taking the piss out of the people who insulted him, throwing them off. 

George questions mattys makeup, and you tell him it was his idea. George had always supported Matty, using his insanely tall stature to fend off anyone giving him a hard time. 

The lesson was going by at a snail's pace, with Matty being his usual self, interrupting at every possible moment. It was so obvious he was off his tits, and Mr. Henderson looked suspicious. A particularly loud laugh from George had prompted him to throw you all out. You couldn't care less, getting up immediately.

Matty picked up his things from the floor, making a show out of bending over in front of the two boys that had insulted him earlier. They both scrunch their faces in disgust, muttering under their breaths. A giggle escapes you as they stare daggers.

“Fucking cunt,” one of them says, and now it’s your turn to blow them a kiss. 

The three of you trudge down the halls, slowly but surely coming down from your highs. George suggests going to Ross and Adams flat, seeing as it's just a few bus stops away from the school. They share a flat above a Sainsburys, which is optimal for late night munchies. Adam even works there, so there's always opportunities to sneak a packet of crisps or a can of cola. 

The bus stinks of sweat and mildew, as did all buses in britain. You get used to the stench after a while, your legs propped up onto George and Mattys laps. The back seat was always your favorite, giving you ample space to stretch a bit. You and George share headphones while Matty takes a quick power nap. He always lets you pick the music, and today it was Radioheads ‘No Surprises’. The music plays softly as buildings and trees pass by the window. The day was quite sunny, the light reflecting off of the windows of houses and offices. You'd sobered up enough to be able to think clearly by now. 

These days were the best. They felt calm, like you could forget every other fucked up thing in your life. Your mother, your coursework. Nothing else existed in your little bubble except the people you were with. It felt peaceful, like a breath of fresh air. 

Matty stirred awake as the bus halted to a stop, yawning for dramatic effect. He loved to exaggerate, ever the performer. George was the quiet, brooding type, trying desperately to go unnoticed, which proved rather difficult. Although he was barely coming up on his 18th birthday, he had grown to a staggering 6 '4, with a voice at least 3 or so octaves deeper than Mattys. 

It had proven useful, you aways had someone to send into the smoke shop to buy fags or liquor, even if it always took a pep talk to even get him through the front door. George was convinced he didn't look older, even though he had never been carded. Ever. 

Usually it was Adam who bought it for you, even though both Matty and Ross were also already 18. Matty had already been banned from most liquor stores in the area, so he proved rather useless in situations needing a bit of booze. 

Mattys violent knocks against the flat door brought you back to reality

“C’MON OPEN UP ITS US,” his voice booms through the hallway. You can hear banging and shuffling coming from the other side of the door. It's so obviously Ross bumping into every available surface because he hadn't turned on the light yet. He was an avid day sleeper, mostly working night shifts. A particularly loud crash is followed by glass breaking. 

Matty taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the door to finally open. Ross emerges, looking disgruntled and tired of Mattys shit. 

“Mate, tell me, what possessed you to come knocking about at this hour, don't you have school-? I swear you're going to be the end of me one day” he rubs his eyes, getting the sleep out of them before moving out of the way to let the three of you in. 

“First of all, it's like 11am, so not exactly the ungodly hour you were describing,” Matty starts “Second of all, we’ve been kicked out of class, so where better to come than here?” 

The inside of the flat reeks of cigarettes and laundry detergent. Ross refuses to smoke on the terrace, deeming it too cold even in the middle of summer. Adam always smokes on the terrace, scared of staining the walls like in those addiction documentaries. A futile attempt, but at least he tries. Matty immediately lights a fag, sighing happily when the nicotine hit his system. School had always been an endurance test for him. Getting him to sit still for 2 hours without going for a cigarette proved nearly impossible. He was already itching by the 45 minute mark.

“What did you even do to get kicked out before 12?” He looks at George, who tells him exactly what happened with tears of laughter in his eyes. Matty rolls his before sitting down on the comforter located to the left of the TV, ashing into one of the various ashtrays situated around the house. George sits on the sofa next to Ross, and you make your way to your favorite spot, the table. Sitting cross legged on the table made you all face each other, which you quite liked. 

“Brew?” George asks, looking up from his Ipod. Everyone nods, and he gets up to put on the kettle. Idle conversation fills the air, and Matty starts chatting about the new “groundbreaking” Metallica album. Matty was, if anything, a music snob. No one could stop him raving on about albums or artists, whether he was praising or criticizing them. Once he started, you couldn't stop him to save your life.

Minutes tick past when George brings back mugs of tea. Mattys mug has got the words “I ❤️ cum” on it. Ross has his usual Macclesfield Town mug, and you and George have the plain green ones Adam bought in an attempt to make the flat seem somewhat civilized. 

Hours pass and Matty finally shuts up. You end up on top of him, sitting on the arms of the comforter. You're all watching Skins on the telly, and Mattys hand makes its way to your back, keeping you steady. He’d always been touchy like that, so it didn't bother you. You look at the sofa and see Ross passed out, drooling onto George's jumper. George, polite as ever, lets him sleep. It was a miracle Ross hadn't started snoring already. 

You suggest to Matty that maybe it was time to get going, seeing as you lived on the other side of the city. George's place was right around the corner, so he decided to stay and look after Ross a bit before Adam got home from his shift. Britain's sweetheart. 

Getting up as quietly as possible, making your way towards the door. Ross stirs as Matty almost knocks over his mug. The two of you make eye contact, silently laughing at Ross’ position, basically on top of George. He flipped you off, rolling his eyes and reaching for the remote, turning down the telly.

It was still fairly dark inside, so gathering everything proved a bit of a challenge. The curtains were drawn shut, the yellow material of them painting the house in a warm yellow hue. 

You had spotted Mattys flowery bag in the corner next to the stove, and grabbed it along with a bottle of cola that was set on top of the kitchen counter. Hydration was important, after all, even if you knew Adam would be livid that you were stealing his shit again. What are mates for?    

Matty grabbed both of your coats, mouthing “lets go,” before making his way towards the front door. 

The bright light of the hallway burns your eyes. How do they survive coming out here when that fucking flat is always so dark? You think to yourself. You wonder if Ross has a vitamin D deficiency from the inherent lack of sunshine in his life, yourself excluded. 

The bus ride home is rowdier, filled with kids from surrounding schools. The both of you hid in a corner towards the front, away from the dickheads that usually sat in the back row. You were both too tired to deal with anyone but each other. 

He was right, everything did smell like jimmy choo now, and maybe you shouldn't have sprayed so much. 

His hand wanders to his eyes, rubbing a bit of the eyeshadow off.

“Does it still look alright?” he asks, looking up from your lap. It had smudged a bit, melted off after a full day of wear. It's not like you used your expensive waterproof stuff, after all.

“You look fine, pretty actually,” You give him a tired smile, stroking his hair absentmindedly 

“Can you even call a guy pretty? Isn't that, like, inherently degrading?” Matty mutters, a grin spreading onto his face. 

“It's only degrading if you let it be. You Matthew Healy, are pretty. Pretty like a girl” 

A laugh escapes you, imagining Matty as a woman. Knowing him, he’d be into it. 

“Does it bother you? Y’know, me being feminine and wearing makeup.” The question surprises you. It's a rare thing seeing Matty this vulnerable. He doesn't care what other people think, but he does care what you think. 

“You know I don't care, I actually prefer you this way.” you assure him.

“Though it's still my mission to convince you that the backpack is not the move you think it is.” 

That earns you a frown from Matty. “It is! I'll let you know the lady at the store told be it very in this time of year” its always funny watching him get defensive over his fashion choices, even if he knows he’s fucked up and its hideous. 

“Yeah maybe it's trendy... for 8 year old girls! But you do you mate, don't let me judge you,” that gets you an elbow to the gut. 

The walk home is one you always take together. Arms hooked into each other, walking, sharing headphones. It's your turn on the music, putting on ‘This Charming Man’ by the smiths. 

“You know, Morrissey sort of reminds me of you. You're really similar in your campness”  Matty choked on air, shooting you a faux offended look. 

“Did you seriously call Morrissey camp? He'd have your head for that.” 

“You're both attention slags, so there's at least one similarity.” Matty doesn't say anything, knowing your words do, in fact, ring true. Matty loves attention, and man, is good at getting it. 

He draws people to him like moths to a flame. Always the loudest, always the most interesting. 

That one saying; “You can't be the prettiest girl at the party, but you always be the drunkest” is a personification of Matty. He tips back wine glass after wine glass, not caring about the stains on his shirt or the red ring around his lips. He then makes it a poor Hanns job to make sure he doesnt get into a scrap with three much bigger guys (which actually did happen last summer outside of a pub in london. Matty got out scot free, while Adam nearly suffered a heart attack). 

You hug Matty goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

You always dreaded coming home. 

They say your biggest critic is your mind, but yours was your mother. You knew she had already gotten a call from the school saying you cut class. The moment you stepped into the living room, the yelling started. “How can you do this” and “What are you even doing with your life” turned into “Look at yourself, you look like a whore and you're going to school like that?” or “Were you out with that little gay boyfriend of yours again?”

You try to tune it out, not letting it get to you. She's been like that for as long as you can remember, never letting up for even just a second. You weren't the best kid, but she sure isn't helping you “get on the right track” as she liked to say.

Tears well up in your eyes when you finally shut your bedroom door. Your first instinct is to call Matty. He picks up after two rings, immediately hearing the quiver in your voice. 

He tells you he’ll be there as soon as he can. 

Minutes pass by slowly until you hear a familiar, although uncharacteristically soft, knock at your window. Matty.

Your puffy eyes meet his and he can tell you’d been crying. No words were exchanged as he took you into your arms, his hands soothingly stroking your hair as you let out muffled sobs into his chest. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this. You were extensions of each other, the others' pain was always your own.    

“It's all so shit. Why cant she just be normal one fucking time.” your voice audibly shakes, partially out of anger and partially out of exasperation. 

“I know i suck, I know I'm a bad daughter but-,” Matty cuts you off. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” His words only make you cry harder. 

He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the sound of his voice similar to the way he spoke to you that night. His hands feel cold against your skin, and you know he’d rushed to your house without grabbing his coat. You look up at him, seeing his hair was unruly, curls falling into his face. The blonde highlights littered his dark hair and he ran his hand through them, brushing them to the side to get a better look at you. 

“D’you want to sit down? We can listen to music. Whatever you want, and won't even comment on how shit it is, promise,” He knew you didn't want to talk about it then, you never did.  

You sit in silence, your face still in his chest, staining the light blue material of his shirt. You quietly apologize, knowing how much he loves that shirt. He tells you to shut up, and that it didn't matter. 

He had gotten it in Barcelona at some tourist shop for 50 quid. Insane price for a tshirt that just said “Barcelona” on it, but he held it dear to his heart. It reminded him of his childhood summers. 

“There's a bottle of um…,” you trail off, gesturing to the second drawer of your nightstand. Matty understands, and reaches over you to open it. The drawer is filled with half eaten granola bars, bracelets, jewelry, the odd vape for when it was too cold to go outside. Matty always took the piss out of you for having them, saying they were ‘so fucking girly it hurt’. After a second of rummaging, he took out a half drunk bottle of Bacardi. It always sat in your nightstand for when you needed it, and you definitely needed it now. 

“Only you'd have a giant bottle of rum in your nightstand,” Matty says softly, searching your expression. The corners of your mouth tug upwards at his words, and you crack a smile.   

He opens it for you, and grabs an abandoned cup from your desk. The cup he had gifted you on your 17th birthday. It was covered in flowers and stars, very Matty. Very you. Pouring a healthy amount into the glass, he hands it to you.  

“To shitty situations” He raises it, clinking it against your cup. He takes a swig straight from the bottle. You down the whole thing in one go, wincing as the alcohol burns down your throat. 

“You feel better?” he asks, pouring more into your cup. You nod, before taking another drink. “I just need to get drunk and forget,” you sigh. Matty starts to speak again.

“That's an unhealthy way to go about it. Soon enough I'll be picking you up from corners because you can't handle your liquor. It's a recipe for alcoholism, innit?” you cackle at his words prompting Matty to raise his eyebrows at you.  

“Oh come off it!,” How many times have you been so drunk you couldn't find your own dick if you tried. Sort yourself out before criticizing my drinking habits.” you scoff  

You decide ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis is the right soundtrack for the night. You lay down next to Matty, your shoulders and thighs touching each other. You look up fondly at the dozens of yellow stars littering your ceiling. Reminiscent of your early childhood, you couldn't bear to take them down. You still felt like a child, your heart yearning for the same innocence you no longer possessed. A distinct naïveté you missed dearly. After your breakup with Phillip you'd realized that the world wasn't all it was cut out to be. People wanted, and they took. It didn't matter to them if they hurt others, because as long as they were satiated, nothing else mattered. 

You turn to your left, draping your arm over Mattys stomach. He let out a deep breath, raising his right arm to draw light circles onto your back. His nails had grown out longer than usual, but the sharpness of them was comforting through the thin material of your tank top. The edge of your small twin bed dug into your back. 

The two of you laid like that for hours before sleep took over your body. The stars on the ceiling blurred as your eyes started to shut. You let out a soft hum, settling into Matty even more, holding him close.

You don't know how long he stayed, but he was gone when you woke up. You feel a sticky note attached to your forehead, the glue rubbing off on your skin. You could barely read Mattys erratic handwriting. The note read: you fell asleep, hope your hangover isn't as bad as mine. left you some Advil on your dresser xx. 

Your hand reached next to you, feeling two tablets. You wash them down with water from the sink. Your cell phone lights up with a text from George 

“We’re meeting at Hanns flat, be there in 30,”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The windows were rolled up, trapping the smoke inside. Your eyes were glazed over, barely able to make out Ross’ face in front of you. Watching as Matty took another hit, you made a ‘give it here’ motion at the zoot, prompting him to hand it to you. Rhianna blared through the radio, a far cry from Adams usual taste in music, but no one seemed to care. Even Matty had managed to keep his mouth shut, instead moving his head in time with the music. 

Adam was sitting in the driver's seat, as always. He’d never let anyone else drive his girl, not even Ross. He was insanely protective over his car, even if it was an old piece of junk. 

George was in the passenger seat, holding a pink, polka dotted ashtray in his hand. The colorful ceramic proved quite the contrast against his dark clothes and messy blonde hair. It was a gift from his older sister, and the only ashtray he ever used. 

You were perched in the middle seat, your elbows on the console between Adam and George. Matty sat on your right, and Ross on your left.  

“No joke, I once had a bird offer to give me a footjob. Can you imagine that?” Adam spoke loudly, almost too loud. Ross let out a disgusting snort, the mental image of Adam getting a footjob making him properly lose it. You make a face. 

“That can't feel good at all, innit? Aren't the soles of feet rough?” you ponder. “Only if you have George's hobbit feet, that is,” Matty said, ducking to avoid yet another lighter being chucked at him. You were going to run out of lighters at this rate. 

“I'll show you hobbit feet you fucking cunt,” George retorted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

“I had a girl once who wanted me to properly bite down on her nipples, like hard. Can't imagine how much that would've hurt.” you share. She’d been quite the odd one up until she was in your bed, so you were already expecting some sort of weird kink. Nipple biting was definitely not on that list. Not that you were kink shaming.  

George spoke first: “What d’you mean girl? You're telling me you've been with girls?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Erm, yeah? Didn't I tell you-?” Everyone shook their heads except Matty. You had already told him this story months before, the both of you laughing at your misfortune. Smiling at the fond memory, you meet Ross’ eye. 

“We didn't know you were like, proper gay,” he says quietly, not wanting to sound abrasive. You suck in a deep breath before answering. “I'm not proper anything, and besides,” you point at Matty sitting next to you, “This one’s snogged loads of blokes.”  A collective “What???” fills the car, with everyone's eyes now on Matty. 

“What if I have? It's not my job to notify you of all my sexual endeavors, innit?” Matty looks slightly uncomfortable, giving you a look. You frown at him, and he shakes his head. Slight signs of a smile linger on his face. It's fine he mouths at you, resting his arm on your shoulder. 

The three of them talk loudly over each other, with Ross asking some very explicit questions on the mechanics of gay sex. 

“How do you even, like, properly shag? It's not like you have anything you can shove into the other girl,” Jesus christ. 

Matty taps Ross’ shoulder, bringing the attention to his hands. He brings them up to his mouth, sticking his tongue out between the V-shape his fingers had made. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the whole demonstration makes Ross visibly cringe. 

The car suddenly starts. Adam makes the short drive to Carolines, stating that the hotbox was getting to be too much for him. George has a go at his age, calling him an old man. Hann was in fact, about 2 and a half years older than George, and a solid year older than the rest of you. Old man was right. 

You had rolled down the window on Mattys side, hoping some fresh air would help Adams driving skills. The erratic swerving had begun to make you sick. 

Finally trugding up the stairs to the terrace, Matty says something about it being too fucking cold. Ross says “That's the price of being built like a male Kate Moss,” and Matty nearly shoves him down the stairs. 

It is colder than usual, and you had opted for a dark gray zip up, the material hugging you tightly. You were pretty sure it was Mattys. A pair of green wash jeans hung low, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on your right hip bone. It was a copy of Bowie's on the cover of ‘Aladdin Sane’. You had gotten it done by another one of your mates, Rome, who was an aspiring tattoo artist. It looked a bit shit, the lines slightly crooked, but it was yours. 

You had convinced George and Ross to carry the sofa from the office onto the terrace. They were the tallest and strongest, and Mattys arms would have snapped like twigs if he tried to carry anything, you said to them. George laughed his octave defying laugh, while Ross let out an annoyed grunt, shoving past you. 

Adam was right behind them, carrying a small wooden coffee table. “For you- I know how much you hate sofas,” he says quietly. You called him a softy, but inevitably thanked him for bringing it out. He had his rare sweet moments, and you appreciate them 

Once you had all settled, you took out your tobacco and papes, starting to roll your first cigarette of the night. You honestly needed a break from all the weed, because jesus. 

Matty let out a groan, taking the piss out of you for bringing all that instead of just buying industrials. 

“I know you think you're better than us for rolling, it's quite pretentious.” he sucks in a breath before talking, moving his hands erratically “Don't tell me it ‘tastes better’ because that's simply bollocks, it all tastes the same!” 

“Pretentious? Her? That's rich coming from someone who raves on about William Burroughs like anyone knows who is!” Matty looks hurt, and you give Ross a look that says you really don't know who William Burroughs is?

The conversation continued without you, too preoccupied with rolling to add anything. All was well until George decided to open his giant mouth again. 

“If you're not fully gay,” he started, “how do we know you're not secretly crushing on any of us?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

You let out a snort, it slowly morphing into laughter until you look at him, his expression deadly serious. 

“You can’t actually mean that?” your voice is slightly hoarse. “For all we know, you could be harboring secret affection for Matty with the amount of times you’ve slept in the same bed.” 

Mattys perks up at this, shooting George a glare that could kill a man. He told him??? 

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the weed, maybe you were just groggy from the lingering hangover. You lick the cig closed, setting down next to the others. Uncrossing your legs, you get up and walk towards Matty. You can see the grin plastered onto his face, and he is definitely not sober.

You stumbled over Adam's foot, kicking it out of the way. Ross moved away from Matty, giving you some space. 

The terrace was dark, but the moonlight illuminated some of Mattys features. Specifically, his eyes. They seemed to glow, following your every step toward him. I'll show you secret affection you thought to yourself when your hand made contact with Mattys face. The stubble on his chin scratched your fingers. He never could grow a beard, and the faint shadow was as long as it would get. 

He sat with his legs spread, skin peaking out through the single rip in his jeans. His arms rested on the sofas back, splaying out to the side. He wore a black v-line jumper, the knit of it almost see-through.  

The makeup from the previous day was still smudged on his face, giving him a rockstar-esque look. The eyeshadow framed his eyes, glittering in the faint light. Your hands cupped his face, lightly stroking his jaw. The grin had been wiped off his face the moment you had settled between his legs, kneeling on the edge of the sofa. 

You didn't think, just moved, your lips smashing against each other. It seemed to take Matty by surprise, and it even took him a second before he kissed you back. One thing nagged at you. Why did you like it?

There was no time to think when you heard George wolf whistle at the both of you. 

You want a show, I'll give you a show you thought, slipping in your tongue and taking over the kiss. He seemed into it, but then again, Matty would fuck anything with a pulse. You smile against his mouth at the thought. It suddenly felt hot, even though you were outside. His hand snaked its way into your hair, tugging slightly. This didn't feel platonic. Was it?

“Alright, alright, we didn't sign up for a porno,” Ross says, his hand covering his mouth. You were the one who broke the kiss. Matty let out a soft groan when you parted, loud enough for only you to hear. His eyes pierced yours, and you moved to get off of him. 

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, and you felt dizzy. What the fuck?

You wiped your mouth, your lipgloss having smeared all over your face. Wiping the back of your sticky hand against the sofa, you turned and walked back to your spot on the table. 

“See! Absolutely no ‘secret affection’ as George so kindly put it.” you say to the group, going back to your pile of fags, taking one and lighting it. If you had looked at Matty instead of being preoccupied with Hanns bickering about the prissy new manager, you would have noticed a faint shade of red caressing his cheeks. He felt around for his own cigarettes, and took out a pack of parliaments. Spotting the lighter next to you, he reached for it, lighting the cig as he inhaled the smoke eagerly.

It was already half two when the five of you finally piled back into Hanns car. The prominent stench of weed made you scrunch up your nose. You decide to light a cigarette in the car despite various protests and threats to your life if you even dared to ash onto the leather seats. Switching seats with Matty, you ash out the window instead, resting your head against the rim of the car. 

Ross and George were having yet another meaningless debate on whether mixing ketchup and mayo was a cardinal sin or totally acceptable. Every other word was an insult, and you knew they would never come to an agreement, ever.

You had already established that you’d be sleeping over at Mattys, saving Adam time and petrol not having to drive both of you home separately. Denise and Tim were out on a press tour, so he had the house to himself. 

His room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. If you knew Matty, you knew he hated the big light with a burning passion. Instead, a small lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating the various posters that littered his wall. Band posters, prints, tapestries, the occasional quote. Everything screamed Matty

His room was filled with so much music. CD’s, vinyls, even the odd cassette tape. His purple record player sat on top of a dresser next to his desk, surrounded by various small trinkets of his. It was his prized possession, a gift from his mother for his 14th birthday.  

You had already helped yourself to a cola from his fridge downstair. His house was huge, way bigger than your own. Your parents weren't actors, after all. The walls of his room were stained towards the corners, just another side effect of Mattys near constant chain smoking. His bed was big, and you both fit comfortably on it. The wardrobe next to it had a pile of your own clothes in it, but none to sleep in. Your eyes dart around the room looking for one of his to wear, landing on his bright pink durex t-shirt. He had worn it once to school, promptly getting kicked out of literature class by a very conservative Mrs. Sexton.

Soft music was playing in the background as you unloaded your bag onto Matty’s insanely cluttered desk. Out came multiple pens, makeup, not one, not two, but three lighters, and finally, makeup wipes.    

You sat on the ground in front of his full length mirror, wiping at your eyes and face. Matty was making the bed, giving the both of you each your own duvet, a must after too many fights over the blanket. You weren't a peaceful sleeper, constantly tossing and turning, occasionally even kicking Matty in the back. 

Washing your face, you hear the bathroom door click open. Matty went and sat on the closed toilet lid next to you.

“Hand me my toothbrush, will you? And some toothpaste.” he asked, stretching his hand out. You do, even wetting the toothbrush for him. 

He sat there, brushing his teeth and flipping through a recent issue of playboy while you put moisturizer on, and then a serum. 

“I dont get how you can be arsed to put all that shit on your face, it takes way too long,” his comment makes you roll your eyes at him in the reflection. 

“Not everyone is naturally blessed with clear skin like you, people like me have to put effort into their appearance, knobhead.” A wave of insecurity hits you as you inspect the acne on your face. 

You had been a chronic face picker in your early teenage years, and the consequences of that were gnarly acne scars covering most of your face. They were not prominent, but they were there. 

Matty was fortunate enough to have had maybe three zits ever, his clear skin the stuff of dreams. 

Matty watches you pick yourself apart in the mirror. He hated when you did that. It made his heart ache in his chest. He wished you could see what he saw. What did he see?

“You’re quite beautiful, really,” he says, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You’re taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. You open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh bugger off,” you say, your voice breathy and annoyed. You didn't want to sound annoyed, it just came out that way. 

Matty raises both his hands in defeat, and spits the toothpaste into the toilet bowl, flushing. The hairbands sitting on the bathroom counter eventually end up in your hair, holding together two braids on either side of your face. You stare at the mirror one more time, examining yourself. The pink fabric of your (well, Mattys) shirt clung to you like it did Matty. Taking off your bra, you go back into his room. He had changed into a loose Kiss t-shirt and black boxers. The light of the corner lamp helped you find your phone, sitting on the nightstand next to you. 

The atmosphere was calm, calm enough that you’d almost forgotten about the kiss. Almost. 

Matty reached over to turn the lamp off, lighting a candle for light. Cinnamon. 

“You know it's dangerous to sleep with candles lit? We could catch on fire and die,” Matty had rolled over on his side, now facing you. A grin spread onto his face. 

“If it kept me from ever seeing Hanns ugly mug ever again, i’d gladly let cinnamon spice scented flames burn me to death,” 

You giggle at his words. Poor Adam, always taking the worst of Mattys jokes, if you could even call them that. Accepting his decision to keep the candle lit, you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes shut and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies, really? Jesus fucking christ. 

You're scared to open your eyes, scared to even look at Matty. Maybe it was a mistake. He's your best mate. That kiss didn't mean anything, especially not to him.

A million thoughts race through your head, and you shove them into a small corner of your mind. Ignore ignore ignore, it didn't mean anything. He's just some wanker who picked you up at a bus stop three years ago and somehow became your best mate. He's just some guy you share a bed with sometimes. He's just some guy who lights your spliffs for you. He's just some guy who you kissed on a terrace overlooking the city. 

Fuck. 

[riordanness]

okay so every single (okay some) pjo character and their opinion on taylor swift bc that’s all i think about:

percy jackson: isn’t the biggest swiftie in the world but adores her music if it’s on. he owns at least two copies of the 1989 cd and his fav song to blast while skateboarding is welcome to new york ofc.

annabeth chase: absolutely loves taylor, probably really resonated with her lyrics and storytelling style tbh. her favourite albums are definitely 1989 (the beach-y california vibe yk), lover, and midnights and folklore and evermore and fearless and reputation and speak now. (what can i say—she’s a swiftie)

grover underwood: he’s a music guy. ofc he likes taylor swift. probably only knows like four songs total, and they’re all from like debut and fearless but hey. that’s something.

piper mclean: you can’t tell me she doesn’t ADORE reputation. and probably fearless too actually. definitely has some kind of merch (a signed cd??) in her room back home.

hazel levesque: obviously didn’t know anything about her but once introduced, loves folklore and evermore and the tortured poets department. soft and soothing songs are defo her thing.

leo valdez: old mate probably listens to all too well every day tbh. he doesn’t love her and definitely isn’t a swiftie, but red (especially the vault tracks and the songs written for hunger games) are always welcome.

jason grace: my boy knows nothing. nothing. but you bet he finds out about her eventually and doesn’t really have an opinion either way. he neither hates or loves or dislikes or likes. it’s just music to him.

frank zhang: probably likes debut. but probably also never really thought about her or knew much about her music bc of his grandmother and stuff yk.

nico di angelo: to anyone’s face: absolutely not. but secretly? oh yeah. he would totally listen to folklore and shit are you kidding me?? he’s such a swiftie.

reyna avila ramirez-arellano: yes and no. a couple songs in her playlist but not like. that much. she doesn’t really mind her and doesn’t really love her either.

luke castellan: he’s lowkey a hater. probably listens to kanye just to spite swifties and writes those hate comments on all her fanpages and shit yk.

thalia grace: she likes about half of the reputation songs and a couple of ttpd too. (especially look what you made me do). but she’s more into older music like green day (iykyk hehe)

silena beauregard: UH. YES. lover girl in the flesh. she is totally the camp’s biggest swiftie and is the one who got annabeth into her. she’d defo have merch and posters and have memorised everything.

clarisse la rue: silena made her do it. that’s what she’d tell you,and it’s true!! but she has a secret soft spot for a good taylor swift song.

chris rodriguez: knows about her through clarisse, doesn’t really give a damn about her.

charles beckendorf: BIGGEST SWIFTIE EVER headcanon okok. owns merch. posters. go to her tours. the whole shibing shabong iykyk

apollo/lester papadopoulos: duh. he’s the god of music bro. i think he would appreciate the literal music industry herself

meg mccaffery: no way. she’s a professional hater for the pure fun of it, has probably never heard a single song other than shake it off, and comments ��kanye better’ on all her fan accounts

carter kane: tbh he would appreciate her lyricism a lot, but doesn’t strike me as someone who listens to that much music in general?? also he wouldn’t really know a lot of normal pop culture stuff necessarily, so…

sadie kane: she likes her. she likes everything. she’s a pop girlie fs, so reputation/midnights are her BANGER albums. she would definitely have some taylor swift on her ipod playlist, but she’d be more into avril lavigne, lady gaga, olivia rodrigo and stuff like that.

zia rashid: who’s taylor swift?

magnus chase: the only canon swiftie magnus you have my heart. he’s also a basic white girl, thank you very much. he literally (IN CANON BTW) recognises ‘blank space’ and ‘i know places’ and identifies them as taylor swift. so. yeah. he’s a swiftie fs

coach hedge: lol nope. he’d have the worst music taste of all time. NEVER give him the aux

sally jackson: she would LOVEEE evermore and speak now and debut, fight me. she’s also just the perfect person ever so ofc she loves taylor swift

paul blofis: would defo vibe to it imo, but would never put any songs in his playlist tho cause he’s boring ok maybe he would for sally’s sake. and estelle’s

[bharv]

Not to be an old person on the internet but I sometimes find it so hard to express how much the world has changed in 15 years to young people. 2009 feels like a different planet to me (for context that’s when I graduated so it’s to me when I started adult life.)

So off the top of my head things that were SO different:

Globalisation just wasn’t a thing yet. The UK would get films up to a year after America. There was more crossover than when I was a kid but it was still not easy to access American shows.

However pirating was still very good lmao.

There was no Netflix. No streaming at all. 2009 was when podcasts began to crop up and it was a huge deal, but it was limited to iPods and only people with access to professional studios could do them. It took about 5 years for it to become a bit more democratised, but you still needed extremely expensive equipment to do it. Even as recently as 2016 if you weren’t based in a city you were screwed because remote recording was terrible.

And on that note, no smartphones. Or at least very few smartphones. I’d say by 2011 most people had them but it was still something for rich people at this point. You would take a tiny camera on nights out and then upload all the pictures to your computer.

Social media was rife, but not in the way you know it now. Twitter and Facebook were the big deals, but they had only really started to blossom. Before they it was all about MySpace. People became big on Twitter through being funny and cultured and it was actually really good.

If you were over a British size 14 you could not buy clothes. Online retailers were few and far between - ASOS at this point was still called As Seen On Stars and was making dupes of runway clothing. America WAS more ahead here but due to no globalisation getting clothes delivered to you from the states was a fucking nightmare. I remember trying on Levi’s in the UK and them not getting over my knees (and they were around £100 quid compared to $20, because again, no globalisation)

There were SO many ways to have fun for free. Free galleries, free gigs, stuff for under a fiver. You might have been broke but there were more ways around the system then than there are now.

[sassycheesecake]

A/N: Chose the names for the kids completely random, also I was a horrible teenager and I still feel bad what my poor parents had to go through with me. Also, the Spanish translations are from my male best friend whose mother tongue is Spanish, I am sorry if it’s not correct, I’ll kick his ass if something is wrong 😂

TW: period blood

Tōru Oikawa is many things.

King of the court, former national Argentinian Setter, husband of a beautiful successful, confident woman he calls the love of his life and father of three children.

Now as a retired athlete, the former Setter trains all sorts of volleyball clubs in San Juan. From little kids trying out Volleyball for the first time to High Schoolers and even College students trying to go pro.

All these years, you raised the children mostly while your husband played volleyball professionally until he couldn’t do it anymore physically. With coming age, every athlete reaches their breaking point sometime.

Now working your dream job as a novel publisher about a romance novel you recently published, you’re in the United States, traveling and doing interviews about it.

The two of you always wanted a family.

After Tōru did the try outs and made it on Argentinian team, the the two of you celebrated with a lot of alcohol and passionate kisses and just like that, your first child was born 9 months later.

Just by the age of 22, Tōru is a father of a beautiful girl named Sofia, she was born in the bright early morning light in December.

As first time parents, there were ups and downs but you both pulled it through as a team.

During the years, you and Tōru brought two more lives into this world, one girl and one boy. Hikari and Thiago.

Sofia is now 13 years old, which means she is a teenager now. Hikari is 10, while Thiago, the youngest, is 7 years old.

Thiago does not always has it easy with two older sisters, especially since Sofia has had incredibly bad mood swings that she occasionally lets out on her siblings, causing fights to break out that the poor former retired pro Volleyball player has to break up lots of times.

Unfortunately the former Setter’s wife is out of the country for interviews and signing her books, leaving the man to run the household by himself.

During years of intensive training, raising three children, nothing could have prepared the brunette for this.

Puberty.

On Saturday morning, Tōru prepared breakfast for his kids when Sofia came out of her room with an annoyed expression.

No.

Pissed expression.

She sits down at the table without greeting her family and just begins to tear apart the waffles without eating them.

"What’s wrong with you?" Hikari asks in a curious voice.

"What’s wrong with your face." Sofia’s voice is full of venom, like her sister took away her iPod again without asking her first.

"Hey! Ya basta." Tōru scolds her with a frowned expression.

Sofia’s mean demeanor drops a little bit but the anger on her face still remains. She definitely inherited your angry expression that Tōru is still terrified of.

Thiago is just munching on his Lucky Charms cereal, ignoring his sisters’ antics like always.

While both daughters inherited your looks, Thiago looks like a solid copy of his father. The same hair, the same eyes, the same face.

When the Setter cleans up the mess from the cooking, an idea pops up in his head. Something he hasn’t done with his kids in quite a while due to their school activities and homework.

"Hey kids, how about we play some volleyball in the garden later on? We haven’t done that in a while." Tōru suggests.

The two younger Oikawas brighten up with excitement, whereas the oldest one barely reacts.

"Go got ready after breakfast, I'll clean everything up and Thiago, go get the volleyball in mum’s closet." Tōru tells his kids, a huge smile breaking out on his face when his youngest one quickly chows down the rest of his food before running upstairs to get dressed and fetch the volleyball out of his parents’ closet.

Hikari also finishes, setting her plate in the dish washer before going to her room as well, getting ready to play volleyball with her brother and her father.

Tōru looks at his daughter and she pushes her plate away, leaving the table without another word.

"Sofia, you know you can talk to me. Qué te preocupa?" The brunette calls out to her.

She doesn’t reply, just keeps on walking and closes the bathroom door with a slight slam.

With a deep sigh, Tōru finishes cleaning up, wishing his wife was here to help him figure his teenage daughter out.

All of sudden, he hears Hikari and Thiago running down the stairs, this time in sports attire instead of their pajamas.

Making a run for it, Hikari trips Thiago to be the first to arrive in the garden of the house.

With his face landing on the hardwood floor, he groans out loudly in pain before getting up and yelling after his sister.

Rubbing his temple in annoyance, Tōru makes his way to the bathroom to try and get his eldest daughter out to join the family fun.

Knocking gently on the door, the father begins to talk.

"Sofia? You okay?"

"Go away, dad!" She yells out behind the door and it sounds like she is scared but also deeply upset.

"Preciosa, what’s wrong? You okay?" He begins to get worried.

"It’s nothing, I just… I-I need mum for this." Sofia sounds embarrassed as she says it out loud.

Tōru pouts a little bit at that, his little girl choosing you over him.

"Maybe I can help you." The father offers.

"No! You can’t! Gosh, this is so embarrassing!" She shouts in reply.

Now Tōru is starting to freak out a little bit.

"Sofia, tell me what’s wrong or I will knock down this door, I am not kidding!"

No reply.

"There’s… there’s blood… in…my…" She stutters.

Pressing his ear against the door, he tries to listen what she is trying to say.

"Blood in your what?!" Tōru asks frantically.

Now both Oikawas are freaking out.

"I GOT MY PERIOD, YOU HAPPY?!" She finally snaps and yells.

It seems like time has stopped for Tōru Oikawa.

Why, why?!

Out of all the times, it happens now?! When you’re gone and he has to deal with it by himself?

'Deep breaths, Tōru. You can do this.'

"Nena, please open the door. I’ll try to help you in any way I can."

"You can’t! I read online that I need something called a pad or a tampon. Do we have any of that here?"

Tōru knows whenever you’re having your period, you keep your feminine products on top of the med cabinet, out of reach from prying eyes.

Hikari and Thiago return inside the house after a while, confused why their father hasn’t come outside to play yet.

"What’s going on with Sofia? Is she sick?" Thiago worriedly asks.

Hikari appears as well, more annoyed than worried like her little brother.

"Sofia, if you die, can I have your laptop?" She teases.

"No! When I get out of here, you’re done for, you little shrimp!" Sofia snaps back.

"Oy! No one is killing anyone! I will be right there, just leave your pa and your sister for a bit okay? I promise I will be there."

Tōru interferes, before Thiago becomes an only child, more likely foster child, since his wife will kill him as well.

Hikari and Thiago make their way outside again, with Thiago jumping on his sister’s back like a warhorse.

They both scream as they head outside again, while Tōru only shakes his head at their silliness.

"Mijita, check the top of the med cabinet."

"What? Why?" Sofia asks perplexed.

"You’ll find what you’re searching for."

After a few minutes of rustling and hearing movement, the father hears the rustling of plastic and the uncertainty in his daughter’s voice as she describes the products.

"You found everything?"

"Yes, thank you, pa…"

"De nada, linda. I’ll explain from the door how to use it."

Tōru does not move from the door, explains to his daughter step by step how to use the different kind of feminine hygiene products, also offering to buy her favorite candies and food tomorrow and even if Tōru can’t see it, Sofia has tears in her eyes, appreciating her father’s supportive nature so much.

When you return from your trip, Tōru is watching a volleyball game between England and France, eyes captivated by the screen.

He is sipping on a beer can, eyes on the tv, switching between cursing and cheering for the teams.

Entering through the entrance door, you spot the love of your life immediately.

"I haven’t seen you drink a beer since high school. Any special occasion?" You grin as you hug your husband from behind, your arms wrapped around his neck.

Pressing a chaste kiss against his temple, your brunette husband chuckles and intertwines one of your hands with his.

"Bienvenido de vuelta, ¿Cómo fue tu viaje?" Tōru asks while briefly looking at you over his shoulder.

"Amazing! The people are very nice and I was busy every single day. How was home?" You ask in return.

"Puro pánico y discusión entre hermanos." Your husband sighs while taking another sip of his beer.

"What do you mean?" You say in a very concerned voice, already bracing for the worst.

"Your daughter had a mental breakdown over her first period today."

"MY daughter?! She’s your daughter too, marido."

"ANYWAY, your amazing marido handled it, amore. They are all asleep, Sofia and I had a long and big talk, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else."

You smile brightly at him, remembering you have a little souvenir gift for him.

Quietly unzipping your suitcase, you change into the surprise you have for your husband.

"Tōru?" You quietly call out to him, leaning against the entry way of the living room, doing a sexy pose of the new black Victoria’s Secret lingerie you got from the States.

"Hm?" Looking over his shoulder once more, the brunette’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets, choking on the sip of beer he took, while taking your figure in.

"Ven y cógelo, mi capitán." You say in a seductive voice, walking towards the direction of your bed.

Jumping over the couch, the Setter follows you into your shared bedroom, full of excitement and horniness for his precious wife.

Translations:

Ya basta = stop it/cut it out

Qué te preocupa? = What’s wrong?/ What’s going on?

Mijita = my daughter

De nada = no problem

Bienvenido de vuelta, ¿Cómo fue tu viaje? = welcome home, how was your trip?

Puro pánico y discusión entre hermanos = pure panic and siblings fighting

Marido = husband

Ven y cógelo, mi capitán = come and get it, my captain

[spikyiwaizumi]

YOU WRITE ON YOUR PHONE?!?!?!? UR A GOD AMONG US MORTALS

it’s born from necessity 😭😭 I had an ipod before a laptop, and it’s so handy like I can write anywhere (and I do, I need things out of my head) … it’s so bad I think I do 90% of my writing on my phone because ALSO it feels like less pressure?? writing on my laptop feels very Serious and Professional and like… I’m just here to fuck about

[cantcompetewhereudontcompare]

Louis - the Liam Gallagher cosplayer

I said my next project would be Louis as a homophobic bully - with proof. But the hard proof I have is in a hard drive I can't access right now, so I'll leave that for later (but it is coming as soon as I can).

I thought instead I'd tackle a huge thing that's been bothering me, especially in light of the Oasis reunion.

I'm personally a huge fan of Oasis, and everything about Louis regarding Oasis annoys me, but particularly these two things:

He's not an actual fan and never was. Just a casual listener who's marketing himself a certain way to appeal to a certain audience

He's attempting (rather embarrassingly) to be a copy-paste version of Liam Gallagher

I'll divide this into two parts, and this first post will be about point #1, because it'll be too long otherwise.

Anyone who was a fan of One Direction in their early days would know that Louis' Thing, the music he said he enjoyed, was Top 40 radio. He can act like he's an indie rock band enthusiast all he wants, but that's just simply not true. In fact, that was HARRY'S thing throughout his time in the band.

Fans called him a hipster (the whole Frat Harry thing came later, at the time, in 2013, fans said he was a hipster). And Louis LITERALLY mocked him for liking "obscure" bands.

Here, March 13 2013, One Direction's Take Me Home Tour in Dublin. They read Twitter questions and answered them on stage. The question was "What's the number one song played on your iPod?" and Louis introduces the question to Harry with "Harry, got any indie bands we haven't heard of?"

Here's the video. The question is at 2:06, first he talks to Zayn, then Niall, then at 2:36 to Harry.

This isn't a one-time incident, but it's one I distinctly remember (because I went to multiple shows of that tour and followed it closely!) and can physically point out. It happened multiple times. It was a Thing Louis mocked him about constantly. Keep in mind, Louis was 21 when this happened, a fully developed grown adult who had been in the industry for three years and was a professional musician.

Why do I say this? Does it bother me that he mocked Harry? No, that's just banter lmao. But what bothers me is that a few years later, he would rebrand as someone who enjoyed indie music, as an indie musician himself, who enjoyed and propped up unknown bands. And his fans would act like Harry was the popstar who made and enjoyed shallow music and Louis was a rock connoisseur all along.

At 21 Louis... distinctly wasn't that person - he also wasn't that person at 22, or 23, or 24, he started being that person in 2017, when he decided to craft his entire persona around being a Donny chav who gave you a two-finger salute and wore trackies to red carpet events.

Louis didn't even try to act like his musical style was indie rock back then. in the early 2010s there was a type of social media called Ping where you could log in songs that you liked. It was connected to your Twitter account and your iTunes account. Because in late 2012 (Louis was almost 21, might I add), it was about to shut down, a fan (a Larrie) documented the whole thing in screenshots. Here's the post. Of course they make everything about their conspiracy, but the account was legit (connected to his verified Twitter account) and the post made the rounds on normal Tumblr, so I remember seeing it at the time and saving it because it was interesting.

Some of the songs that he added to his Ping:

Thinking of You, Part of Me, Wide Awake, and the entire Teenage Dream album by Katy Perry

Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars

Look After You by The Fray

Someone Like You by Adele

Far Away by Nickelback (he got this as a tattoo lol)

Who Knew by Pink

Bedshaped by Keane

I'm With You Avril Lavigne

Take Care by Drake

Yellow, Shiver, Talk, Fix You by Coldplay

Moves Like Jagger and Payphone by Maroon 5

It Girl by Jason Derulo

Without You by David Guetta & Usher

Love Story and We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together by Taylor Swift

Domino by Jessie J

Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol

Goodbye My Lover by James Blunt

Titanium by Sia and David Guetta

Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye

Turn Up The Music by Chris Brown

Let's Go by Calvin Harris

Mr. Brightside and Somebody Told Me by The Killers

We Are Young by Fun.

Stop And Stare by OneRepublic

She Moves In Her Own Way by The Kooks

Basket Case and Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day

Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen

I Miss You by Blink 182

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous by Good Charlotte

Bright Lights (the album) by Ellie Goulding

Believe (the album) by Justin Bieber

Naive by Lily Allen

Imagine by John Lennon

How We Do (Party) by Rita Ora

All of these songs are heavy rotation radio hits. I'm not sure how many people will see this post, if any, but if it happens upon any young Gen Z or Gen Alpha eyes, who happen to not know some of these, they're literally just... the most played songs on the radio at the time, and Imagine by John Lennon (which was the only song older than 2000 in his entire Ping).

The only bands he has on this entire log, are Two Door Cinema Club, who you might say "oh wait, that's indie isn't it?" except they reached #2 in the UK albums chart in 2012, when this log happened. Literally following trends once again. Same thing goes for Owl City, it's a somewhat indie project, but they had a big hit (certified Diamond and hit #1 in the UK and the US), Louis logged in the project immediately after this song made it big. A bunch of John Mayer songs, who in 2012 was hyper-mainstream. Or the #1 album Coexist by The XX. And songs from the #1 album in the UK Contrast, by Conor Maynard. That plus the incredibly mainstream hits by some more rockish bands (I'm surprised he didn't log in American Idiot by Green Day) and pop. That's it.

What about Oasis? It's there.

Stop The Clocks - a greatest hits record.

Stop Crying Your Heart out - literally the #3 most popular song of theirs on Spotify

Little By Little - a huge hit off one of their latest albums (33 million YouTube Views, 85 million Spotify plays)

I'm sure he enjoyed himself some Oasis. He was a British boy growing up in the late 90s and early 2000s. It'd be weird if he didn't. But he never talked about going to see them growing up (he was 16 when they played in England for the last time). He logged in just one album, and it was a greatest hits. He logged in two songs, and they were both huge hits. He logged in a ton of songs by Coldplay, or Katy Perry. Hell, he has more songs logged in for DRAKE than Oasis.

It's obviously not definite proof, but he had that Ping account for two years, and all his iTunes purchases or likes showed up. I also don't remember him mentioning them in any particular way throughout his time in the band. Nor him mentioning going to see them. Or wearing their merch. Or...

Despite both Liam and Noel having a Twitter account as far back as 2009/2010, Louis didn't follow either of them until 2017

So that in and of itself is bizarre for someone who in 2017 would give a million different interviews specifically mentioning Oasis and Liam Gallagher, right?

But the most egregious part of his pretend act, is that he's just flat out wrong about Oasis in and of itself.

First of all, in every single interview he mentions Oasis, he singles out Liam Gallagher. You can look it up, because frankly, there's so many interviews where he does this that I could probably be here forever. He talks about Liam Gallagher so much it's almost obnoxious (and we'll get on to that in part 2), but he almost never talks about Noel. Who he mentions is Liam. Even though he says Oasis was a huge part of his inspiration as an artist, who he mentions is Liam. And this is in the context of Oasis, as a band who inspired him growing up, not Liam Gallagher as a solo artist. OASIS. Liam.

To the uninitiated on Oasis, Liam is my favorite because he's great. He's funny, he's charming, he has a distinct voice that makes Oasis stand out. He's a mean tambourine player. But to name Liam as your inspiration when you admire Oasis, as a musician, is akin to doing that with Ringo and The Beatles.

Just so we're clear, this is the writing credits for their debut album:

Their second album

Third album

Shall I go on?

Liam doesn't play instruments, except the maracas or the aforementioned tambourine. Noel:

Just:

You have to actively ignore everything about the band to pretend that your inspiration, musically, as a musician, is LIAM GALLAGHER if you actively like Oasis. What the hell are we talking about?

To be clear, Louis didn't say in these interviews that he admired Liam's vocals (which he could never in a million years imitate, and I beg him not to try), or attitude, or charisma, or fucking tambourine expertise. He talked about lyrics, and music, and songwriting. And yet, he never mentioned Noel Gallagher. IN THE CONTEXT OF TALKING ABOUT OASIS.

Listen, I fucking hate Noel Gallagher. He's a c*nt. But I happen to like Oasis, and I know, despite how much I despise him, that Oasis wouldn't exist without him.

So why did Louis mention Liam??? Well, two main reasons.

His fans don't give a fuck. They don't care about his musical opinions because they're not fans of his music or him as a musician. It's why they don't listen to it. They're fans of his status as a purported underdog or the conspiracy theories surrounding him, or rate him as a part of the band they once liked. Some of them pity follow him. He could say his musical inspiration is Miley Cyrus because of how well she plays banjo and it'd make absolutely no difference for them. Also, most of them are musically illiterate and would find a way to justify anything he says, despite being completely nonsensical, if they even listen to him in the first place.

Because of #1, Louis has been on a quest to capture a specific type of audience. He tried to capture the 1D audience with Just Hold On and Back To You (which are songs that are actually up his alley in terms of the music he consumed). But despite being his best commercially performing songs, they failed to actually and significantly move the needle. And he saw the writing on the wall even in the middle of promo for Back To You. Which is why he gave up trying to be commercially successful with that crowd and has been relentlessly trying to shift his audience.

It's why he wears sweatpants and sneakers everywhere, why he called himself a chav in 2017/2018, why the horrible haircuts, why the constant smoking and drinking in promo pics, why the pivot to "actually, I'm a die hard indie enthusiast" even though four years prior he mocked his bandmate for that exact musical taste. It's why he markets his own music as indie, rock, etc, even though it's decidedly not. It's why he does the photoshoots he does, hires the people he hires, and has the bands he has in his narcissistic "festival."

It's put-up on. I suspect it's partially borne out of deep insecurity and wanting to appeal to the type of guy he went to school with. I think his mates, despite enjoying the wealth of 1D's success, took the piss out of him for being in a boyband. This is pure speculation, but we're talking about the guys who openly retweet Andrew Tate (Nizam Kabir), or mocked his singing voice in his ex girlfriend's posts...

Let's actually expand on that, Hannah Walker, Louis' ex girlfriend, uploaded a video to her instagram account singing with a sore throat. It was captioned "sore throat singing" and this is what one of his "best friends" from childhood, Calvin Rodgers, commented on it:

This wasn't some gentle banter either, this was around a point in time where Calvin and Louis weren't hanging out (2013/2014). I actually saw Hannah's post and the comments a few years ago, but her account has gone private since.

"Calvin (unprompted) In theory, the singing wasn't AS flat as Louis" another friend (Dan Woollet) replies "Fair point" to which Calvin replies "Not only fair, but true." Hannah replies "controversial."

Louis cheated on Hannah with Eleanor (I can do a deep dive on that later), and at first Hannah didn't know, so she and Louis were on good terms, but she has been openly very negative about Louis ever since late 2011.

Calvin is also a musician, by the way. His comment was fair and true. Louis' singing IS flat. I doubt he'd say that to his face when he's on good terms with him, especially because he greatly benefits from Louis' money and status (his friends have mooched everything from access to events, to paid vacations on yachts by being with him, to outright jobs). But from things Louis has said in interviews, such as "I don't have a skincare routine because my friends would make fun of me" or "if I showed up wearing designer clothes my friends would never let me hear the end of it," it does seem like he has this need to fit in and seek approval from these idiots. I'll never understand it, and I'm not going to try and psychoanalyze him (and he doesn't wanna do therapy because he's too good for therapy anyway), but I think he wouldn't be seeking this audience otherwise.

His attempts have clearly failed. His music is consumed less and less. He's at 2.4 million monthly listeners on Spotify. Just so we're clear, Spotify has a chart of the most monthly listeners per artist, where they chart the first 500 artists from 1 to 500. #1 currently is The Weeknd with 107M. #2 is Billie Eilish. Harry is #53 without having released music in 2 and a half years (which is amazing).

The #500 is Lynyrd Skynyrd with 16,147,684 monthly listeners. Louis would have to gain 14 MILLION monthly listeners to be at the bottom of the list. That is SEVEN TIMES the total amount he has right now. That's how bad it is.

His fans don't listen to his music. They're just incredibly annoying online because their idea of stanning him or being his fan is Twitter, and TikTok, and some of them on Tumblr and never shutting up despite having zero actual arguments to back anything up (which is why I'm venting on this blog, and potentially giving Harries tools to shut these idiots up because I know how annoying they are).

I think he's still trying to market himself this way because deep down he still wants the acceptance of his high school buddies and other men like them, and his idea of cool is (deluding himself into believing to) have a career that his buddies would actually respect (as opposed to 1D).

To close off this part of the post, I'll leave with the worst part. How do I know he's not and was never a fan of Oasis? How do I know that he's lying when he says they were his inspiration as an artist?

Well, this:

He said variations of this multiple times in multiple interviews. He bashed metaphors a ton, for instance:

“[So how you classify your genre?] Oh, that’s a big question. Wow, that’s hard. In terms of what I’m looking for from a production point of view, I want things to sound organic and live. Not too many programmed instruments. I want it to feel authentic. From a lyric perspective, almost like indie-pop, very conversational. All these sexy metaphors people put in their music? I ain’t got time for that. I like it straight to the point. It’s hard to classify it as a particular genre.”

Source.

Here's another he gave for MTV:

Though "Back to You" is certifiably pop, Tomlinson grew up loving guitar-based rock bands, he said, and that when it came time to sit down and create solo music of his own, he found inspiration in the acts from his youth: mainly Oasis and Arctic Monkeys, both from Northern England (like Tomlinson). "The way that they write I've always found very interesting because, you know, if you look at a pop song fundamentally, lyrically it's very different to the conversational style that Arctic Monkeys or Oasis might use, and that's exciting to me," Tomlinson said.

All I can say is.. What the actual fuck is he talking about?

Obviously I have a lot more that I can say. But. WHAT?

Let's ignore Arctic Monkeys, because yes, I would absolutely call "honest and to the point" early Arctic Monkeys. Honest meh, because early AM was so conversational and so casual and about such mundane things that honesty wasn't really a factor, but whatever. It was incredibly to the point. BUT OASIS? OASIS??? Honest and to the point? OASIS?? OASIS??

Just so we're clear, the most mainstream song Oasis has ever released is Wonderwall. Everyone knows that song, correct? What the fuck is a wonderwall? That is not A WORD.

The word "wonderwall" came from a George Harrison album. And the lyrics have absolutely nothing to do with it. The song itself is a "Hollywood-esque song" that talks about "some unfathomable crazy love story."

The entire premise of wonderwall is that one person who's always there for you, but told in an abstract metaphorical way. That is by definition the opposite of what Louis said he wanted and liked.

In fact, Oasis FAMOUSLY worship the ground The Beatles walk on. Hell, Liam named his kid fucking LENNON. One of the most known facts about The Beatles was the amount of fucking NONSENSE they wrote in their lyrics. I Am The Walrus?! Like, this is music 101. Louis you are supposed to be a musician (yet play no instruments).

The second most mainstream song by Oasis is Champagne Supernova.

This is a verse from that song:

Wake up the dawn and ask her why A dreamer dreams she never dies Wipe that tear away now from your eye Slowly walking down the hall Faster than a cannonball Where were you while we were gettin' high?

Exactly what part of this is honest and to the point? I thought he hated metaphors?

Remember the songs he Pinged? Let's see those lyrics.

Little By Little

'Cause little by little We gave you everything you ever dreamed of Little by little The wheels of your life have slowly fallen off Little by little You have to give it all in all your life And all the time I just asked myself why, you really here?

I'm gonna go insane. What the fuck did he mean by "honest and to the point" immediately after saying the word "Oasis"? Is he OKAY? Is he having a stroke and smelling colors? How else can he describe this as "honest and to the point"?

The other song was Stop Crying Your Heart Out

Hold up Hold on Don't be scared You'll never change what's been and gone May your smile (May your smile) Shine on (Shine on) Don't be scared (Don't be scared) Your destiny may keep you warm

I'm swimming in directness and honesty here, you guys. I can't believe how to the point these lyrics are! Metaphors? Never knew 'em! Soooo conversational!

But maybe I'm cherry picking songs, and the rest of Oasis' discography actually fits what Louis said, right? RIGHT?!

Let's look at Stop The Clocks, the Greatest Hits album Louis pinged back in 2012. Literally the first verse of the songs in order. Just so we're very clear.

Rock 'N Roll Star

I live my life for the stars that shine People say, "It's just a waste of time" Then they said, "I should feed my head" That to me was just a day in bed I'll take my car and drive real far They're not concerned about the way we are In my mind my dreams are real Now you concerned about the way I feel Tonight I'm a rock 'n' roll star

Some Might Say

Some might say that sunshine follows thunder Go and tell it to the man who cannot shine Some might say that we should never ponder On our thoughts today' cause they hold sway over time

Talk Tonight

Sittin' on my own, chewin' on a bone A thousand million miles from home When something hit me Somewhere right between the eyes Sleepin' on a plane, you know you can't complain You took your last chance once again I landed, stranded Hardly even knew your name

Lyla

Calling all the stars to fall And catch the silver sunlight in your hands Come for me and set me free Lift me up and take me where I stand She believes in everything And everyone and you and yours and mine I waited for a thousand years For you to come and blow me out my mind

The Importance of Being Idle

I sold my soul for the second time 'Cause the man don't pay me I begged my landlord for some more time He said, "Son, the bills are waiting" My best friend called me the other night He said, "Man, are you crazy?" My girlfriend told me to get a life She said, "Boy, you lazy"

Seriously I wanna sit down and ask this man what the hell he was talking about. How can he, with a straight face, say that LIAM GALLAGHER was his musical inspiration growing up because of the lyrics of OASIS, and how straight and to the point, devoid of metaphors, they were. It's the most nonsensical talking point I've ever heard. If he was even remotely relevant the way people would've laughed their head off at him saying this would´ve been diabolical.

He said Oasis and Arctic Monkeys because they fit the persona he wanted to build (even geographically).

There are SO many actual indie bands from up north who write the type of lyrics he claims he likes, but he's too lazy to actually do research into this put-upon image he chose for himself (I hardly think a competent group of people was behind any of it).

He changed his hair, his facial hair, his clothing style, the way he talks, walks, the words he says, how he stands in front of a microphone, his facial expressions, the aesthetic surrounding him, even the people and teams he hired for his career, to cosplay Liam Gallagher. This isn't a case of inspiration. Inspiration is normal. It happens in art every single day. Everything we do is an amalgamation of stuff others have done before. Everything is invented. I want to make it very clear that I don't find any of that problematic in any way.

But Louis is an inch away from wearing the skin of Liam Gallagher as a winter coat. I'll actually dive deep into that in a second part of this post, because it really does go SO deep.

And I sincerely doubt he likes him or his music all that much. He just likes the idea of people viewing him like they view Liam and the "respect" he would get from men.

[autisticlenaluthor]

Music

'When all you wanted was to be wanted, wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now'

-

Kara arrives fifteen minutes early. 

She gets dropped off in front of the school by Eliza, and promises her she’ll be okay on her own. Once she’s alone, she crosses the quad by herself.

Earbud strings dangle across Kara’s body as she walks, head down, focused on the leaves and how they crunch beneath her boots. Taylor Swift’s Fearless echos through the tiny speakers and Kara can’t help but drum her fingers against her thigh to the beat.

The air is salty and damp with the smell of fallen leaves. It feels almost like she’s stepped into a painting, with the castle-like brick building in the foreground. It’s surrounded by trimmed hedges and trees with orange branches. Alex has always said private school kids are a different breed. But god, is their world fascinating. 

She finds the meeting spot with relative ease. It’s a round concrete picnic table just off the main path, near the massive lion statue Lena described in her email. Kara sits and plops her backpack beside her, quieting the music on her iPod so she can focus as she takes out her pens and spiral notebook. 

It’s supposed to be a simple project.

Sophomores from Metropolis Tech work with sophomores from the all-girls private school, Spence to clean up parks in the city. The whole thing is worth five extra credit points on her Earth Science final. Five extra credit points Kara desperately needs- because what kind of cruel joke is it to put an alien in Earth Science when they’ve only been on the planet for a year? 

She gets her stuff organized and looks up, freezing when she sees the girl she’s been paired up with standing across the table. For someone with super hearing– spatial awareness does not seem to be a skill Kara possesses. 

“You’re– are you Lena?” She stammers. 

The girl nods. She has raven hair and pale skin like the vampires in the movies Alex forces her to watch. For a second, Kara selfishly wonders if she might be an alien too. She just looks so unlike the other people Kara knows. But Eliza says it’s rude to make assumptions, so Kara quickly tries to suppress those thoughts. Lena would likely perceive being asked about her home planet as a targeted insult. 

“I’m Kara, it’s nice to meet you,” Kara says after a moment. “I like your outfit– you look so professional!”

Lenas brow furrows as she looks down at herself. She’s wearing a grey sweater vest with a blue crest over a white button-down and blue plaid skirt. 

“It’s a uniform,” she says. “We all wear this.” 

“Oh.” 

Kara scans the campus- for the first time noticing all the girls in identical get-ups, all paired with knee-socks and Mary Jane shoes. A few of them wear dresses instead of skirts, one or two with school-branded sweatpants beneath them. Where had they all been five minutes ago, before she’d made a complete fool of herself? 

“So… I was thinking we could go to Glacier Park,” Lena says, breaking the silence. “Most girls go to Central because it’s bigger. But Central is a tourist trap– Glacier Park hardly gets the same environmental attention.” 

She’s quiet, keeping her eyes fixated on her hands as she speaks. But even so, she seems so sure of herself. 

Maybe it’s a private school thing, Kara thinks. The students here are so smart, they don’t need to follow the social rules everyone else seems to abide by. 

“Unless you were thinking something different?” 

“Uh… I guess I hadn’t really thought about it,” Kara admits with a nervous laugh. “My classes and everything have been kinda crazy.” 

Lena nods but doesn’t respond. Kara can’t tell if she’s judging her or if she just doesn’t have anything to say. 

“You know… midterms week. Can you believe they do this every year?” 

She isn’t sure why she keeps talking. In the emails they’ve sent, Lena only ever mentions the project. She doesn’t seem to be the chatty type– the type to care that Kara’s had four exams this week alone and that that’s why she can’t bring herself to be as invested in this whole thing as she should be.

It’s just that Lena is right there and maybe the reason she reminds Kara of aliens is that she may just be the prettiest girl she’s ever met– on Krypton or on Earth. And sure she isn’t talkative but that doesn’t mean Kara can help it either. 

“Yeah,” Lena says, expression blank. 

For a second, Kara freezes. She isn’t sure what she’s supposed to do with that. 

“We um, we should start on the report too,” Lena restarts, as if nothing happened at all. “I brought some articles on pollution levels in the city. I thought it might be easier to get the reading portion out of the way today, so we can focus on the actual cleanup later.”  

“Oh… okay, yeah, that sounds good.” 

\\\\\

They go with Lena’s suggestion and meet at the entrance of Glacier Park.  

Kara gives it her best attempt to look nice for her. Alex says it’s silly– they’re going to be cleaning up garbage all day, so why does she need to look good? But Kara can’t help it.

Lena is clean and elegant and weirdly perfect. And for whatever reason, she seems to know so much more than Kara does. There’s a gap between them and even though they’re strangers, even though they don’t have to be friends (Kara isn’t even sure if she wants to be friends) Kara hates it. She hates how isolating it feels. 

So she does her hair in two braids, and puts on her favorite jeans with the black long-sleeved v-neck that reminds her of Rory Gilmore. It isn’t much but it feels good– feels like she’ll surpass whatever expectation Lena has of her. 

When Kara finds the entrance, Lena is already there waiting for her. She’s standing under the big iron archway, carrying her backpack and the trash grabbers she’s borrowed from the school. 

Kara smiles and waves over at her. 

“Hey!” 

Lena gives a slight smile in return and nods in acknowledgment. 

“You look nice,” she says. She hands a trash pick to Kara who mentally pumps her fist and kicks a leg with excitement. 

“Thank you.” Kara smiles. “So do you.” 

Everything after that feels easy.

They pick up trash in relative silence. Lena stays in the grassy section while Kara cleans the pathway. It’s quiet and simple until it isn’t. 

“Lena Luthor?”

Lena lifts her head and Kara drops the trash bag she’s been holding. Standing a few feet away are two girls around their age. One wears a Spence School Phys ED t-shirt. Lena must know them, Kara figures. 

“How nice of you to help your brother with his community service,” says the one not wearing the Spence shirt. She has a high ponytail and blue Converse sneakers. She reminds Kara of the girls in Bring it On.

“But I don’t think it’s gonna make a real difference, didn’t he get like… what, twenty-five years?” she adds. Her friend– Spence shirt, laughs. 

A crinkle forms between Kara’s eyes and she waits for Lena to react. She’s seen fights like this go down at her own school– groups of bullies ganging up on lower-classmen in the girl’s bathroom or staircase. They always seem to have the upper hand until they push too far. 

But Lena doesn’t do anything. Her face doesn’t change. She just looks straight past them, the same way she does when she speaks to Kara, and says nothing. 

“Hey, be careful with her,” Spence shirt jokes. “She might snap like he did.”

Lena looks down. Her face is red. She grips her trash pick so tight her palms grow sweaty and knuckles turn white, but still, she’s silent. 

So Kara says something. 

She can’t help it– she knows she shouldn’t. But the words slip out, and before she knows it, she’s asking-

“What are you talking about?”

Converse sneakers looks at her like she’s crazy. 

“Lex Luthor,” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Ya know– that psycho who’s obsessed with Superman and killed all those people?” 

Kara nods.

“That’s her brother.” 

Kara swallows. 

It feels like being punched in the gut– knocks the wind right out of her. 

And suddenly, she’s back in the living room, watching the TV with the volume off at three in the morning because she couldn’t miss the live reports on her cousin’s condition. Because she needed to know if he was dead or alive. Because she couldn’t cope with losing one more person, and if he died, that meant she had to go to. 

She’s in her closet the night after the attack after hearing a crash in the backyard. It’s raining out. Pouring, thunderous flurries. Eliza said the noise was just branches hitting the window in the storm. But Kara couldn’t believe her. She couldn’t get his face out of her head, trailing the worry that now, he was after her too. 

By the time she finds herself back in reality, the girls are gone and Lena is still looking at her shoes. 

“You can go home,” she says through a forced, wavering smile. “I’ll finish cleaning and write the report. You’ll still get the extra credit.”

This time, it’s Kara’s turn to go quiet. 

This stranger, this girl who she found so pretty and alluring, who she dressed up for, who she emailed with for weeks, is the sister of the very person who wants all of her kind dead. Maybe they don’t have a friendship, but to be acquaintances is still too much. To know her at all is to feel every ounce of hurt and damage her family has inflicted. 

Kara isn’t aware of how tight her jaw has been clenched until she starts to taste blood spouting from the sides of her cheeks. 

She isn't going to put up with this. She isn't going to be around her.

So she does as Lena says-- drops her trash bag, and walks away.

[myloveforhergoeson]

ash's october 2024 reading round up

find all the books and fics i read (or didn't read...) this month under the cut with a link to the synopsis and my reviews/ratings attached :)

this is just for fun! i'm not a professional, i just like to read <3

booklist:

The Veiled Kingdom + The Hunted Heir by Holly Renee

it's a series this time folks! i read them one right after another, and unfortunately these are the only two in the series currently out, but i loved both of them so much! i'm not typically a fan of romantasy, but these were recommended to me by a friend so i decided to give them a shot :) this series follows nyra (lost, runaway princess of the kingdom) who is captured + taken hostage by the rebel faction of her kingdom who have been working to bring down the tyrannical rule of her father, the king. they don't know she's the key to their rebellion plan, so she's forced to hide in plain sight among their ranks to ensure she doesn't end up back in her father's clutches. now that she's forcibly part of the rebellion, the leader's son, dacre, takes a special interest in her... he can't stand her and he doesn't know why! usually, im not a fan of enemies to lovers (boo me later) but their story was done in a way that didn't make me want to pull my teeth out lmao. the worldbuilding in the first book was so interesting, renee did a very good job of setting up the high stakes political climate from both sides + it was very apparent why the rebellion means to much to dacre and his family. much of the first book was spent in the veiled kingdom and many chapters were just training montages, which i didn't super love, but i do understand how that showed nyra's improvement over time... also lead to a lot of good hurt comfort moments hehe. the twist at the end was pretty predictable, but it was still written well enough that i wanted to come back for the second!! the second book was great too! i just didn't love the explanation (mostly, lack thereof) of the magic system in the world. it was barely touched on in the first book, and some of the events in the second book left me really confused as to what the characters could actually do... but dacre and nyra are so funny to me. i love their fucked up little relationship + can't wait to read the third

rating: both earn a 4/5 times i thought "huh, i should read more romantasy"

fic list:

assorted works of @ceruleanmusings <3

Blood Diamond; Year Five

2. assorted works of @partiallypearl/ @praetoravila <3

adorable kaela blurb

lolive ghost blurb

mighta found the one (but i need you too)

'cause i don't wanna keep you guessing

ipod shuffle challenge

3. assorted works of @selangkir <3

promptober one-shot!!

4. assorted works of @inkameswetrust <3

date night

5. assorted works of @naquey / @ithinkyouhealedmyheart <3

ghostwriter ch 3-8

6. assorted works of @icegirl2772 <3

Take A Shot In The Dark Ch. 16

7. assorted works of @fiyero33053 / @fiyero0533

promptober one-shots!!

8. assorted works of @bunnyfern

a field of blooming tulips

[fatmclassic]

Lungs 15th Anniversary gig playlist

Last night was such a blast from the past, I went and scoured through my old ipods for my favourite gigs of the Lungs era. I tried to pick gigs which match the energy of each song otherwise too many would come from the same performance. Most are professional recordings aside from rare early tracks

Dog days are over

I went with Glastonbury 2010, this was a huge moment for the band and one of the biggest crowds of the era. Best festival anthem at the best festival.

Rabbit Heart

There are so many good versions of this it was hard to choose. But as it's another festival anthem I went for that. This T in the Park and it's one of the very few performances where she sings the high notes. Isa on backing vocals.

I'm not calling you a liar

Part of her BBC introducing set, when she started breaking into the mainstream. Nice slow build up with some cool harp action.

Howl

There isn't a heap of howl recordings. I went with this one as it has the string section. The first performance for NME brixton is raw as fuck but it's a full gig vid.

Kiss with a fist

Another festival one, Oxegen 2010. This also has an intro to it with Flo dicking about on Isa's keyboard.

Girl with one eye

Intimate early gig at the Blue Flowers club. I honestly think the dodgy sound quality adds to it

Drumming Song

My fave. Actually quite hard to find a live version with drums. The orchestral versions are all great mind, I just wanted the drums. This is from Melkweg

Between two lungs

Until that prom show honestly I didn't care much for this. She has good energy in this version from Amsterdam and mixes it up a bit

Cosmic love

This song is always good, so it was hard to pick a stand out. I went with the electric proms because the harp is so good in this one and it has the drums as well. Nobel prize concert is a close second

My boy builds coffins

Last night did the best version of this, but here's a simple version played in the park with guitar and chris playing fence railings.

Hurricane drunk

I've linked this before but I love it. The instruments sound drunk in this so how could you not. Electric proms again

Blinding

The orchestral version is great, but this song has so many electronic bits that add to it. The insanity at the end was incredible live, most otherwordly experience ever, with the strobes, the UFO noises, the cymbals and her yelling, the fact that it just.keeps.going. I was in Belfast, but this Melkweg gig has a very similar version. So sad when this was dropped from the setlist.

You've got the love

Cheating a bit since this is actually the Ceremonials era but with the intro this is just the best performance of this ever. I always come back to it.

Bird song with intro

A lot of these are either poor quality or missing the intro, but this Amsterdam gig is the full package.

Falling

Again,not many performances. But this is in a church so the echo hits just right. And someone is playing a cowbell or something so that's interesting.

Hardest of hearts

Unfortunately very few recordings that aren't either dogshit quality or incomplete. This is the best I could find, some shitty Barcelona club it seems. Least it got some love last night.

Swimming

The best performance of the like, the 4 times it's ever been played. From Hammersmith Apollo

Are you hurting the on you love?

This poor song was forgotten last night, but seems to have actually been performed a fair few times to my surprise. Sadly most are poor quality. This is the best I could find with a cool little xylophone bit, from Brighton

UNRELEASED Donkey Kosh

Actually more versions of this than the bonus tracks. Anyway I like how speedy this version is, from iTunes 2008

UNRELEASED Throwing Bricks

Back to Amsterdam London calling. Fun and energetic.

[jessaerys]

i CANNOT find my ipod + bluetooth speaker which i was using when the movers were moving my shit (they didn't like how i packed stuff up and berated me about it even though i packed the way the LAST movers that the same company sent us when we moved a couple years back, told us to pack, ie. heavy mid sized boxes. but these guys were wimps i guess? like *i* could lift the boxes with a lot of effort. i imagined that for professional movers it'd be like lifting a couple of grapes. anyway they opened up my boxes to rearrange stuff inside them without asking for permission which is SUCH a breach of privacy bro. but i digress) what was this post about. oh yeah well if my ipod + speaker are not in like the last two to three boxes i still need to open up i am going to assume they straight up stole them -_-🚬

[ana-snz]

I found my old iPod touch and there’s sneeze content on here (me talking on the phone to someone while they induce) but I cannot for the life of me remember who this person is????

Anyway I’m going to watch the like 15+ minutes of content and try to find context clues- so far 2 videos in I’ve got nothing useful, but I needed to share this interaction because it’s fucking sending me into orbit:

Them: I need to find a new way to do this… GOOGLE.

Me: nah dude, trust me that’s the best one unless you have the powder. But don’t keep using the same- like you have to reroll and use a different edge of it otherwise it stops working because it gets gross.

Them: ahh, I see. You’re a professional at this!

Me: I am, I truly am.

Them: I believe you. Gotta do what you gotta do for big nuts.

HAHAHA this is the funniest thing anyone has ever said to me in snz context, whoever you are mystery sneezer I’m glad you get it 😌💅🏻

Also immediately after they go “ugh I sound so stuffy”. Hello???? Like marry me?? WHO ARE YOU???

[rosesradio]

Leo Valdez in Ceaseless Eve: Let's Discuss

⚠️ The following contains spoilers for any & all of Ceaseless Eve ⚠️

How can I begin to talk about my boy??

To start, I should probably give some context or lore about me:

I started reading the books when I was nine. I was sick in bed one day, and my dad wanted to read me something to make me feel better. "It's just like Harry Potter!" he'd said, holding up a copy of The Lightening Theif. (My ill feelings towards the wizard books now, I had inhaled the series when I was eight and read nothing else. Thank goodness I expanded my horizons, right?).

So, he started to read Percy Jackson while I laid in bed...

And I hated it, lol.

What can I say? I was a brat. Or maybe I just wanted to be left alone with my stomachahce or fever or whatever I was sick with. So, one chapter in, my dad gave up and left me alone.

When I felt better, I picked the book back up...and I went through the entire first series in a week. Even now, my dad jokes that I just had a problem with him reading them, not the book itself. (And yes, we watched the show together, he enjoyed it--I'm still badgering him to read the books himself though...maybe I should read it to him when he gets sick...)

So, I got into pjo. The details are a little fuzzy on when exactly I read the sequel series, though I believe it was sometime in middle school. All I know was that the moment I first read about Leo...I had the biggest fictional crush on him, lmao. I remember a time in 2016 where 13 year old me would watch Viria's "How Far We've Come" video and I'd write Leo x readers in the notes app of my iPod touch (unfortunately, those fics have all been deleted, otherwise I would not hesitate to share that horror with the world. But rest assured, the reader was very much Not Like Other Girls lol).

I'm not sure when exactly valdangelo first became an interest to me or where I found it, but I remember reading the books and feeling like we were robbed of those two interacting. They were always something in the back of my mind, though I was always working on other projects and had no idea where to start in the event that I did write something for them.

Until the hype for the show was starting, and I thought that it would be cool to explore a bit of an AU quest between Leo, Nico, and Piper. I thought about the one-off line about how a "confused pizza guy" had found his way to Camp Half-Blood once and ran with that. Also, ever since I started working, I give my favorite character my job if applicable. At the time of writing, I was a food delievery person, so that's why I went with that. The fic was really a character study of Leo more than anything, so I really appreciate all of the people saying I got Leo's voice right :')

So, there are a couple big changes that were made with Leo's character in the ceaselessverse that differentiate the character from canon:

1.) Leo doesn't make mean jokes about his questmates.

This is a change that I actually regret making, and I might toy with a sort of compromise in the sequel. At first, people who were anti-leo made comments on how rude he could be, and I saw that as something that needed to be "fixed" in CE.

However, now that I think about it as a neurodivergent person...I can't help but wonder if that is connected to him being neurodivergent? Like with me, especially as a teen, I was anxious in social situations and often didn't know what to say, so I would make jokes, and a lot of them didn't land. Sure, I shouldn't have made those jokes, and Leo shouldn't have made the jokes he did, but the neurodivergent nature of it all as well as him being an awkward teen sort of explains that, it doesn't excuse it. I think the rise of purity culture and the lack of desire for nuanced characters has (pardon my lack of professionalism) fucked up the vibe. Like a lot. I think it's fine (great, even!) for a character you like to have flaws, especially if they stem from an aspect that makes them more relatable. If you want neurodivergent characters but hate them for exhibiting traits that are frowned upon, well...you might just want neurotypical characters with quirks and labels.

2.) Leo isn't a "ladies man"

I don't regret this change at all. That shit was weird, Richard.

That being said, I think it was fine to have a character who has romance on the brain and is flirtatous. Hell, it's even fine to have a character that's weird towards women and tries to "jokingly" sneak a peak at a female character changing (sorry if you were trying to repress page 114 of mark of athena)--that's just fiction, but you can't expect us to root for that character (especially in their goal of getting a girlfriend).

So, while Leo is observant of the girls around him and thinks they're cute, I think this was a change that was adjusted to age better, yk?

3.) Leo was (accidentally) responsible for his mother's death (sorry, Esperanza)

This was the first change made to accomodate the lack of Gaea.

Of course, you'll notice how most all of the character's (outside of those from the og series) backstories were altered to accomodate that, but this was something I was particularly interested in exploring. I'm not going to pretend to be a better writer than our buddy Richard (though I think some of his decisions were really weird...and he'd probably think the same thing about me, tbh), but I think it was a bit of a copout to have Leo think he killed his mom only for it to be Gaea's fault, so he's, like, "redeemed". I wanted to explore a route where Leo was responsible, even by accident, and what that would mean for his greif and healing process. I hope that was explored thoughtfully to you guys in CE.

4.) Leo was a bully to escape bullying

This one was a little controversial lol, but I think it's more interesting.

I can see where it'd make sense in canon to have Leo use his comedy to escape bullying--he does a bit of the same thing in the ceaselessverse, though I believe it works too well. Leo is welcomed into becoming almost like friends with his bullies, though there is clearly a power dynamic at work. I have had "friendships" like this in middle/high school, and I thought it would be interesting to show how lonliness can lead you to make stupid decisions in order to feel, at least a little bit, like you belong somewhere.

This is, of course, stopped as Leo became closer with his sister, Sarah. He finds that caring for someone outside of his own survival starts to make him feel like a person again, and he wants to become better for her sake. It's really sweet to me and highlights yet another great type of platonic relationship dynamic to be explored, but more on Sarah later.

---

Of course, there are several other little changes made to Leo's character for a variety of reasons--if you notice any and had any particular feelings about them (hopefully positive, but it's up to you), please let me know by sending a letter via carrier pigeon directly to my house (or by, like, commenting on ao3, tumblr, or whatever etc if you're weird like that).

what was i saying. anyways.

I could talk about Leo's character all day--about how his arc of controlling his abilities instead of fearing them mirrors Piper's, about how his sexuality is (and probably will) never be stated directly in the text, so it's up to reader interpretation (he's vaguely bi but mostly queer To Me but also idc). If you ever wanna hear more of my thoughts on him with any specifics, feel free to send an ask! Or Whatever !

A favorite tool in Leo's toolbelt: The Dormio

Leo has a lot of cool little knick-knacks, some canon and some not. His wristwatch with the hidden message was a strong contender, but ultimately the Dormio wins for sure. What can I say? I would love to see dreams--maybe not my own (Hypnos plagues me with stress dreams :') ), but other people's.

The Dormio was originally called the DreamViewer, which was kind of a placeholder name because, frankly, it's dumb as shit. I have to credit @heavens-vault for coming up with the new name, thank you <3 The name is based on a dream interfacing system by MIT.

(Did some of the editing get lost in the sauce, and the device is still called the DreamViewer sometimes? Maybe. No further questions without my lawyer lol. I plan on doing a mass edit some time in the future. Save me mass edit, mass edit save me, etc)

All that to say, the Dormio is not a one-off. We'll just have to wait and see what role it plays in Ivory Rain...

Bonus Character!

Sarah McAllen: Let's Discuss

So, my first pjo OC...

Sarah is first foreshadowed in chapter five, when Leo and Piper are discussing the quest at Nico's cabin door:

"Us?" now it was Piper's turn to look confused. "You mean...you understood that line in the prophecy, the 'daughter of doves' thing?"

"Sure I did!" Leo replied, feeling his heart skip a beat, his smile a tad nervous. "There's more to me than good looks, Beauty Queen." Hopefully, that settled Piper for now. Sure, that orientation video was not very informative, but he didn't have to explain to everyone why he knew these things about Greek mythology.

After reading through chapter nine, it should become clear that Leo has a little bit of background knowledge on Greek Mythology due to Sarah's loud interest in Mythomagic. Although their background has been covered in the text, I thought I'd mention a couple things about her.

I realized kinda late in her development that I actually did the same thing in an older longfic for a different fandom I wrote when I was 15--giving the main character a younger sister, motivating him to be better and take care of her. I'm not sure if there's any psychology behind me wanting to write my faves as older brothers, but it's interesting!

I did give Sarah a couple things in common with me, even if she's not a self-insert. She's a writer, one of the reasons she falls into the Apollo cabin. She also has what Nico describes in chapter 18 as a "medical brace" on her knee. This will be further addressed in the sequel, but I gave her the same disablity that I have with my knee. I don't want to delve too deep into the medicality (medicality?) of it all just for my comfort, but I wanted to show a chracter that has a disability but can also be a hero, like they did in the tv show. I hope you guys read that and it made you happy :-)

I will say that Sarah is not going to be too much of a major player in the sequel, I don't want to put my OCs too much into the spotlight when I already have a lot of canon characters I want to work with. Still, she will always be really important to Leo, and their relationship will always be really important to me.

Also! To tell you a secret...she will not be the only OC in the ceaselessverse, but I guess you will have to wait and see what I mean in Ivory Rain...

[destinygoldenstar]

🍀Welcome To My Daily Life🍀 - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 2 Episode 2 “Open Your Eyes”

I'm back. After... how many days since I reacted to the premiere?

I was preoccupied with a lot of stuff, okay?

I'm just gonna jump right into this.

What are they eating??

Chef isn't here. They don't have to eat that slop.

Is Nina also that bad of a cook-

No cause she made pumpkin bread the last episode-

What. What. WHAT IS THAT.

"Well, it took me a bit. In general I find it hard to fall asleep."

BRUH. SAME. OH MY GOD.

You wanna know how bad my sleeping disorder is?!

I'm getting it checked out so you know. STILL.

"Tell me a little about yourself."

"There is nothing interesting to know about me."

Okay then. 10/10 characterization. She is NOTHING.

"I have a card game that has several questions when you're getting to know someone."

Aw. That's actually sweet.

For a second I thought he just wanted to get in her pants.

"But believe me, at the end of this, we won't be friends."

Im sorry, I can't focus on this so well. THE MUSIC IS BLARING IN THIS SCENE.

I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING AT THE EPIC MUSIC PLAYING IN THIS SOLEMN SCENE XD

"HEYO WHO'S IPOD IS BLASTING IN THE MESS HALL RIGHT NOW?! TURN IT DOWN, I'M TRYING TO TALK TO A GIRL!!!"

"Since I published our photo together, you have gained a thousand followers!"

Pretty sure that's not how that works...

WAIT, I'M SORRY, YOU'RE STALKING THIS GUY'S SOCIAL MEDIA?!

"You're welcome. Its what friends do."

WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT?! STOP IT.

"Now come here so we can get a photo of a kiss. You'd gain a million! HASHTAG LOOK AT THIS CUTE BOY I FOUND!"

What's his name? *looks back* Aiden?

Aiden, you have my permission TO CALL THE POLICE.

"After all, we are the only guys on our team."

Are you?

Oh yeah you are! Well then.

"Oh and don't forget to finish your breakfast. Hunger can cause sleep deprivation."

Well that's subtle.

So you're gonna starve them to sleep?

"I want to do my best to look like a professional host on camera."

Aren't you an executive? Or did I read that wrong?

"I feel I get a little excited at times, and I end up saying inappropriate things."

GIRL, I FEEL YA.

"One of the reasons I let you stay here is that seeing a poor and pathetic intern so humiliated and worn out every day will help me remember what not to do to others."

Okay then...

"It's just really hard not to be a sociopath, you know?"

"I don't want to lose my humanity just to get some ratings."

You sound A LOT like you've met Chris McLean in your life.

I get it. He's iconic, but he's also a sociopath.

So it's the Awake-A-Thon.

That challenge is EVIL.

I would NEVER win it.

"This challenge has been done before."

*chokes*

WAIT THEY KNOW?!?!?!?! THEY'RE AWARE?!?!?!?!?!?

WAIT, TOTAL DRAMA IS CANON?!?!?!?

I mean, Total Drama fanfiction, but...

IT'S IN THE SAME UNIVERSE AS TOTAL DRAMA?!?!?!?!

I'm only JUST NOW realizing that, TWO SEASONS IN.

I'm a dumbass...

Hang on. Let me get the time cards out...

"Hey girls, what sign are you?"

Ooh, girlie bonding!

I'm not saying mine on the Internet btw. Don't ask.

"I think it's cancer, I'm not really sure..."

You do read me as a cancer.

"Do you believe in that astrology thing?"

"It's not that I believe blindly, it's just that I like the idea of cheering people up. I always read the horoscope and try to embrace the most positive message."

Awwwwwww, I like her. She's an astrology queenie.

"Do you want me to read what the stars say about you?"

"It says... 'you are plagued with bad luck for the rest of your days, better luck next time.' Well... ain't that lovely...😅"

"If the girls are that close, it means that they will vote together."

You have not seen Total Drama. The girlies NEVER vote together.

"How about you try to talk to her about it?"

"Um, WHY ME?!"

"Because if she, say, KILLS YOU, I won't get caught in the crossfire, and better you than me. Tee hee."

"Okay. I'll try that later."

*Gets a Wawa Ad*

XD

I GUESS AIDEN AND KAROL ARE TALKING ABOUT IT BY GETTING WAWA PIZZA.

HEYO, IS THAT ALLOWED?!

That seems like cheating. You got a screen blaring in your eyes.

"All good. Playing Smash Bros."

Very nice. What's your main?

(I'm a Samus main in case you're curious. Basic, I know.)

"I'd let you play if you wanted, but the last time I lent someone my console it ended up breaking."

Oh yeah XD

"I follow your Twitch Channel."

Oh, so she has a gaming career. Gotcha.

"How many consoles did you bring with you?"

"Not enough."

"Not enough" Proceeds to pull out yet ANOTHER Switch.

Girl... you're not normal.

"Greetings partner of the mystical journey called life."

OH GOD I FORGOT ABOUT HOW BAD THIS GUY'S VOICE IS...

(No hate to the VA)

"I felt some pretty erratic vibes coming from you."

Erratic?!

I don't think you'd want to say that to someone. Maybe that's just me.

Where the hell did this crush some from?

They didn't talk ONCE last episode.

*Add that to the Total Drama Crackship List*

That contains of four categories.

Crack Ships.

Toxic Ships.

Other... Decent Ships.

And then Tom and Jake in their own little corner. ❤️ DON'T ASK WHY. THAT'S JUST HOW IT IS.

TOTAL DRAMA IS SHIPPING HELL.

"Kai, the team is gathered on this side. What were you doing with the Orange Team?"

WHO SAID THAT?!

"I hope you're not thinking of betraying our team."

HOW WOULD HE DO THAT?! HOW WOULD THAT BENEFIT HIM AT ALL?

"Betrayal is a pretty negative word."

"You have to be loyal to the team or we will eliminate you!"

Um, EXCUSE ME, ARE YOU HOLDING THE TEAM TOGETHER?!

NO? DIDN'T THINK SO. YOU'RE TOO BUSY BEING AN ASS TO EVERYONE.

"Dude, we can't be eliminated on this plain."

XD

Okay that was good XD

"Don't you DARE talk to me like that!"

About what?

YOU'RE A BRAT.

"Attention everyone! Kai is making alliances with the other team!"

AND NOW YOU'RE GONNA TATTLE ABOUT NOTHING.

Oh my god this guy is WHINY...

Ellie's probably watching this at home, like "Oh wow... I feel like I should apologize to Jake."

"Uh... it's fine with me."

"Don't look at me. I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative."

I love that they don't care.

"Just look at his junkie face! You know he can't be trusted!"

Oh my god...

He sounds like a Twitter user.

When your side of the argument doesn't get through to people as the objective fact that it obviously is, what do you do? THROW INSULTS AND ACCUSATIONS. THAT'LL SHOW THEM.

"If you don't agree with me, you're *CENSORED*"

"No man, I don't do drugs... too much..."

WHAT THE HELL?!

THE FACT THAT YOU DO DRUGS AT ALL.

"And you Yul, stop being so prejudice and whiny! Next time you want to judge someone based on their looks, do yourself a favor and say nothing!"

👏

FACTS

"I wanted to yell at him for talking to me like that, but I couldn't utter the words out of my mouth..."

Yeah I hope you get booted first from this team now.

"It's clear that Yul exaggerates and behaves like a spoiled child, but I don't want to get in trouble with anyone. Being here means a lot to me, and I don't want anything to ruin it."

Fair. I would do the same thing.

"I've never felt so out of place before somewhere."

"In the last few days, I've noticed things I hadn't noticed before."

Dude is really that insecure about his age. I get it.

He and Miriam should be besties.

"I've spent my whole life in India, trying to get my acting career off the ground. Now I'm on the other side of the world, alone in unknown territory. I feel like I'm on another planet."

"How did you do it?"

"Just trying to be myself. Because pretending to be someone else will only make people never know the real you."

Yep. Trust me, I know that.

And yet where I grew up, pretending to be someone other than yourself was 'THE COOL' thing to do, and you get a lot more respect by being someone that isn't yourself.

So sad that's how the world is.

She's interesting. I like her.

And yes, I still stand by my claim that SHE IS GORGEOUS.

Oh wow we've fast forwarded through everything, didn't we?

"I have these cards to get to know a person better."

Oh, he's actually legit about it.

This guy is so bad at socializing, holy gosh... XD

It's kinda sweet though.

ARE YOU MENDING A CROCODILE?!?!?!?!?

EYO, WHAT?!?!?

"You're good at this game."

*Cough* She got three votes last time. *Cough*

"I get along well with animals. We understand each other better."

"Have you been getting along with everyone?"

What do you think?

"I think most people don't get too close because of my character."

Yeah, cause you've been a KAREN the past episode.

"Hey James, it seems that... oh..."

XD

"GODDAMMIT, I LEAVE YOU FOR TWO SECONDS AND YOU BAIL ON ME. SOME FAKE BOYFRIEND."

"How are you guys doing?"

"We're fine."

They're fine XD

"Nah I do these kinds of shifts every day. You know. You guys aren't on your phone at four in the morning?"

"No we don't need a doctor, what are you talking about?"

"I could do this all day."

*Gets an Oreo Ad*

OVER OREOS, BABYYYYYYYYY

"I'm starting to feel my eyes getting really heavy..."

First time?

"Do you like to dance? Let's dance."

WHAT? XD

That's out of nowhere.

"I don't know if I'm gonna make it..."

"DANCE."

We're actually doing this XD

I mean does it work?

No.

He died.

Sure. Why not.

I don't hate either, so go ahead.

"He already has experience enduring sleep. Right Oliver?"

He's dying.

"Yes Mr McLean, bread and water is fine..."

He's hallucinating Total Drama. Oh no.

"I brought you a drink so you can hydrate a little."

It's poison. Bet right now.

"You haven't eaten anything for many hours."

WAIT WHOA WHAT-

HANG ON. YOU'RE STARVING THEM?! HELLO?!?!

Or am I hearing that wrong?

"Good. I'm starving."

No I heard that right.

That's more sick than anything else.

"Did I forget to mention that those juices also have strong sleeping pills?"

AND THERE IT IS. POISON.

Also, you DRUGGED THEM. YOU'RE SICK.

"How dare you drug us without our consent!"

And now I agree with her.

"I went too far?"

"No Miss Crystal. It won't hurt them."

THEY DIE.

THEY DIED.

YOU KILLED THEM.

"I'm between Karol and James. What do you think?"

Yeah. Saw that coming.

"I would vote for James. He always leaves his underwear on the floor."

NO WAY, CAN HE AND HAROLD BE FRIENDS?

"She also wants to eliminate one of the girls."

So we're even. Cool.

"Great. That's all I needed to hear."

I don't like how he said that.

What are you planning?

HEY. HEY DON'T WALK AWAY SUS. GET BACK HERE.

...lady, honestly, you freak me out too.

YOU SHOULD NOT BE AROUND THESE THINGS.

"There's something you need to know."

"What are you doing?!"

I'M WITH HIM. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. YOU HAVE A TIE SET.

"Karol proposed to Aiden to vote for one of you."

OKAY WAIT, WHAT?

So... girls alliance. You caught onto that.

So your plan is to persuade them to boot Karol? Your ONLY shot at evening those numbers???

THAT DOESN'T BENEFIT YOU AT ALL.

"I didn't tell everyone!"

YEAH. WHO IS 'EVERYONE'?

EVERYONE ON THIS TEAM, WHO ONLY JUST NOW HEARD IT FROM JAMES.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

I mean, I don't care about Karol. But DEAR GOD...

"She cannot be trusted."

"YOU can't be trusted."

Honestly, get James out, Aiden. Do it.

He stalks you, he uses you, he lies to you, and he has NO CONSENT.

Get him out and CALL THE POLICE.

"Would a friend have used me that way?! You could've at least told me what you were going to do!"

EXACTLY.

"Look, I know it looks wrong now, but it was the right thing to do."

NO IT WAS NOT.

"I didn't have to let her down like that."

You DIDN'T. THAT'S THE THING.

"Also, how would it benefit us if Karol is eliminated?"

THANK YOU.

THIS MAN IS SPEAKING STRAIGHT FACTS.

"Right now, Lake, Rosa, and Maggy are together. It's only a matter of time before Karol joins them."

EVEN THEN, YOU'RE OUTNUMBERED.

"We could try to do something together with Karol!"

WORDS OUT OF MY MOUTH.

"You may not understand now, but you'll thank me later."

NO. YOU TELL ME NOW.

I WANT AN EXPLANATION AND I WANT IT NOOOOWWW

Poor Aiden. Seriously.

Apparently you have two brain cells.

JAMES outed you. Not him!

I SUPPORT THIS ONE.

GET THIS STALKING MANIPULATIVE ASSHOLE OUT.

'AIDEN'

'JAMES'

Get em out.

'KAROL'

Yeah. This is predictable.

'KAROL'

Dang. Didn't even need to read all of them.

"I hope you leave soon, Aiden! You are a traitor!"

🙄

I mean... at least you're happy I guess.

That was Episode 2.

I don't get James's plan. I don't. Why are you like this??

And now Aiden is against you? You screwed yourself.

I would pay the "Pick a Best Girl/Best Boy" game again, but uh... most of the boys here, at least so far, are kinda ass.

I support Aiden wanting James out though.

I don't care about Karol, or her weird... habits... but I expected her to be a lot more annoying than she was.

So... yeah. If you guys want me to continue these reactions, be sure to let me know. I'm willing to continue this show.

[fredseibertdotcom]

Next New Networks, Part 2 : “YouTube will be our distributor.”

I’m going to try, in as few posts as possible, to create a coherent timeline of the short, eventful life of Next New Networks, an early, consequential moment in streaming video history. 

From Part 1: There was almost no “professional” quality video on iTunes in November 2005. The result for us? 1 million downloads in the first 30 days! We had some hits! 

Part 2: Early 2006 

Wait! What? iTunes? What about YouTube?! 

Let’s set the scene of online video in late 2005. The consumer internet is still coming into its own. Broadband connections, which will supercharge video consumption, have barely made themselves known. Vimeo is first, but starved by its corporate parent, YouTube is going to be the big thing, but it’s still independent, Google has launched its own (ultimately failed) competitor. No one understands who/what online video is for. 

In our case, we announced Channel Frederator and VOD Cars as “video podcasts” and YouTube was wedding videos and baby’s birthday party. Apple iTunes was the place for podcasts, and Emil and David Karp were the only two people who’d pointed out to me that iTunes had recently been optimized to handle video, not just audio. 

What did it all mean to me? Who the fuck knows? I had no particular plan, neither did Emil. Things just seemed cool, it was fun. I had a loose professional agenda, but it was a cartoon agenda, not particularly an online video strategy. 

That said, as our numbers kept growing, and Steve Jobs used our logo in live presentations for the Video iPod, I said to Emil: 

“You know, if we could launch 100 of these channels with this kind of performance, we could have our own media company!” Emil nodded, and we decided to register www.NextNewNetworks.com in January 2006. What the hey! 

Like a lot of people, I was intrigued with the notion that the internet would allow everyone to watch "television" (video?) everywhere. Emil pushed me along as early as 2001, showing me how internet TV would be better served with a user interface like early AOL, prophetically the same as we now have with so-called "smart TVs."

Well, great! But still, no plan. 

Jed Simmons @Next New Networks 2009

Until Jed Simmons started showing up. 

Jed and I had been partners at Turner Broadcasting, the top two dogs running Hanna-Barbera Cartoons for Ted Turner until he sold his whole company to Time Warner (now WBD). He’d moved to the UK, got involved in venture, moved back to NewYork, I moved back to NY to run MTV’s online business for a minute, quit and opened Frederator/NY in addition to LA’s Frederator Studios. I suggested that he take a desk in our office and we could get into trouble together. The office was an open plan (I didn’t want to spend money to put up walls) so he could hear everything my big mouth spouted. 

There might have been any plan, no strategy, but it sure was exciting. Thousands of views a day, hundreds of submissions of animated shorts –people still hadn’t realized that they could control the internet as well as well could– it was a brave new world. I would tell anyone who would listen how neat it all was. 

Jed would ask me about what I was going to do with it all, I pushed him away. One day, he asked if I’d talked to any VCs. I didn’t know what he was talking about. He patiently explained and told me that a buddy we’d worked with at Turner was a venture capital guy now, Jed would invite him in. Sure. 

Within a few days we were describing how we did what we did and why we thought it could be expanded. He blubbered about how YouTube would beat us, blah blah blah. 

“YouTube is going to be our distributor,” Emil piped in. I had no idea what he was talking about. Distributor, what?! But, experience had already proved to me that Emil was always right about these things, so I blah blah’d about it myself. Our friend was not at all impressed (he rarely was when I had an idea at Turner either), and then he left. So be it. 

Then, a couple weeks later, he was back. But, this time he came with Santo Politi, one of his bosses, a founder and general partner at Spark Capital in Boston. We were at lunch downstairs in the French restaurant (owned by Anthony Bourdain’s partner and the ex-boyfriend of a former MTV colleague) and I went into what had become a 20 minute blah blah. In 10 minutes, Santo interrupted.

“OK, we’re in.” 

What? 

“We’re in. We’ll syndicate an $8 million, A Round.” 

Emil, Jed and I looked at each other. What???

(More next time.) Part 1 here. 

Next New Networks -by Tim Shey by Fred Seibert