#okay so maybe i was a little oblivious to her when those albums were released but I AM STILL SUFFERING FROM THE AFTERSHOCKS
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to me the title of taylor swifts upcoming album has the same vibe of every tori spring quote i see. like its trying way too hard to be relatable but its just. mild to severe cringe. (i have Opinions about heartstopper and alice oseman books in general. do not tell char.)
i avoid her like the plague so i only found out she has a new album coming out today? what's it called. if it's some indie bullshit attempt again i'm going to lose it i can't deal with another folklore/evermore era it nearly broke me the last time <- words of a person who used to only vaguely know taylor swift when those albums came out
#evvy speaks#asher 🎸#anti taylor swift#okay so maybe i was a little oblivious to her when those albums were released but I AM STILL SUFFERING FROM THE AFTERSHOCKS#sad indie and she's put in there with hozier and mitski SHUT UP GET OUT OF MY SKIN OH MY GOD CRYING ACTUAL TEARS RN
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Summer Love
Pairings: Chanyeol x Y/N
Song reference/inspiration: August by Taylor Swift
Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst
A/N: So I've been listening to Taylor Swift a lot these days and I literally just found out about The Teenage Love Triangle thing in her Folklore album. It gave me inspiration to write this. 😄 It's been a while since I wrote for EXO so here's my first EXO fanfic for 2021! I hope I did Taylor Swift's song justice. Please let me know your thoughts~
You could hear the loud music playing at the club from a block away. You really didn’t plan on going out at all, too tired from your shift at the yogurt shop that you worked part time at. But your friends were insistent.
“God, I need a break,” you messaged your friends, ranting about how work was tiring. If there was one thing you learned about your work, it was that people come flooding in at the shop for frozen yogurt every summer. You couldn’t blame them for it, of course. The heat was unbearable, people would buy anything cold to beat the heat.
“Then let’s go to the club tonight!” Krystal messaged back.
You groaned. You should’ve expected she was going to say that. But the “break” you meant was more of “needing more time to rest” than a “I need a fucking drink.”
You were about to explain to her that you weren’t in the mood to drink but the rest of your friends had already agreed with her. You closed the group chat and massaged your head.
You knew your friends like the back of your hand so you expected them to give you reasons why you should go clubbing with them. Hell, they would probably even make a powerpoint presentation to convince you. And you have to ready yourself for that level of extra, hence, the head massage.
But your friends knew you the same way you knew them so when you didn’t reply after two minutes, they came to the conclusion that you didn’t want to go. You were, after all, the person who always replied instantly — whenever, wherever. Even at work, that’s why they have your schedule so they can avoid messaging you during your shifts.
By the third minute of silence, yes, you counted , a series of messages flooded your phone. As expected, their messages were reasons why you should go to the club with them. One, it was summer so there’s no school work to catch up on. Two, you don’t have work the next day so there’s no need to worry about getting a hangover. Three, alcohol, that’s enough explanation.
You snorted at that.
They listed plenty more reasons but the one that convinced you was that you haven’t seen them in a while since summer break started. So without reading more of their reasons, you replied with a simple, “Ugh, fine.”
When you entered the club, you immediately scanned the area to look for your group of friends. But instead of finding them, your breath hitched as your eyes locked with someone else. He was tall and gorgeous. And hot. Yeah, definitely hot. You shamelessly ogle at his form. From his silver locks to the chain necklaces he was adorned with to the thin white sleeveless shirt he was wearing that was tucked in his denim pants. It was like he wasn’t even trying with his style yet he looked tempting.
And if there’s one known fact about you, it was that you lacked self control.
If you knew you’d find a guy like him that night, you would’ve worn the short black dress you owned or your favorite red satin dress, instead of the gold mini dress you were wearing.
There was nothing really wrong about the dress you��re wearing. It fits you like a glove and it shows a generous amount of skin, but it screams sophistication and elegance. Something that was the opposite of you, but you liked to play pretend sometimes.
But still, red and black were the sexiest colors. Both sexually alluring — arousing, even. And those were what you needed him to see, to feel.
By the time you had shifted your eyes to look back up his handsome face, you saw that his eyes were still traveling over your body.
Okay, maybe gold was fine.
Before anything else could happen, however, Krystal, Lia, and Rose had tackled you in a hug. You wanted to roll your eyes at them. Talk about perfect timing. They started chattering off about how they missed you, oblivious to your encounter with the man.
Before they could whisk you off to the table they claimed, you stole another glance at the hot stranger. His eyes were still on you and you couldn’t stop the small smirk that crept into your face.
Your friends shared stories about what happened to them since summer break started, meanwhile you ranted about your work and how hectic it had been. As the conversation continued, alcohol came and went. Overall, it was fun hanging out with your over-the-top friends.
Every now and then you look at the hot stranger. You were tempted to just get up and go directly to him and just kiss him but not now when he was finally graced with the presence of his friend. Not now when your friends were still there with you.
Not yet.
When your friends got borderline drunk, they stood up and went to the dance floor. You knew then that they weren’t going to come back.
They were always like that when they got a hold of the liquid courage. By the time they’d dance off, they would find a man to spend the night with and not bother to say goodbye. And then the next thing you’ll know, they’ll be updating you on the group chat about how their night went. That’s what always happens every time you all go out clubbing so you were quite used to it.
You waved them off as they made their way to the dance floor. You downed another drink and found yourself looking over at the location of the hot stranger once again.
You watched as his friend got up and left him when he saw your friends heading to the dance floor. He’s probably interested in one of them. Or all of them. You didn’t know. You didn’t care.
Despite the distance, you could almost hear the sigh of relief your hot stranger released. Yes, you claimed him already. When he lost sight of his friend on the crowded dance floor, he immediately snapped his head to your direction. You smirked as he did so.
You made your way towards him. You could tell he was entranced with your body. The lust was written all over his face.
“Hey, stranger,” you greeted as you sat beside him. Your dress had hitched up and you didn’t bother adjusting it. Why would you when he was eyeing your legs like that? Like he’s one breath away to opening them up.
Once he’s gotten his fill on the sight of your legs, his eyes once again traveled the entirety of your body before settling his eyes on your face.
If only it wasn’t indecent to take him then and there, ugh.
“Chanyeol,” he introduced himself as he placed a kiss on your hand.
You hummed and told him your name, “So Chanyeol, I noticed you looked a little bit bored a while ago,” then you leaned in and whispered to his ear, “don’t you want to do something fun?”
He tilted his head so that his lips touched your neck when he talked and then placed his hand on your thigh, “My place is just around the corner,” was his answer.
He gave your leg a little squeeze before offering his hand to help you stand up.
The next thing you knew, he was fervently kissing you after he shut the door to his room. He tasted like cigarettes but also something sweet that you just can’t name. But the taste doesn’t really matter to you, what matters was how he was using his lips. And, god, was he good at using his lips.
His hands wandered around your body while yours trailed over his toned chest and abs. He grabbed your butt and slammed you to the door, bringing his erection closer to your pussy.
You instinctively rubbed against him, moaning at the much needed friction. He brought his lips to your neck and nibbled your sensitive skin.
Then he slipped his hand under your skirt, feeling your damp panties.
“Please Chanyeol,” you moaned.
“Please what?”
“Please touch me.”
“Are you sure?”
You huffed but said, “Never have I ever been so sure.”
He moved your panties to the side and slid a finger in you. “You’re so wet, babe,” he said as he pumped his finger in and out of you.
“Chanyeol, hng, more.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He added another finger while you cursed at how good it felt. He was leaving kisses all over your neck, you were pretty sure you’d be painted with reds and purples by the end of the night.
You were in a daze but you weren’t just going to let him do all the work. Your hands quickly went on to undo his belt and his pants. You freed his hard shaft from the offensive garment and gave it a few strokes. Then you spit on your palm and finally gave the attention his cock deserved.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” he mewled.
You went back to kissing him after his statement. It was like there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you — both of you wanted to get on the bed — so he carried you there, never once pulling away from the kiss.
As your bum touches his mattress, he immediately strips himself of his clothes while you shimmied out of your dress.
You were able to remove only your dress when he locked his lips with you once again. He laid you down on the bed, his left hand groping your breast.
When he pulled back, he took his time in scanning your body. You bit your lip to prevent a whine from the sudden lack of contact.
“You’re so sexy, babe. I want to fuck you so badly.”
“Then do it, Chanyeol.” You looked up at him.
The sight was something to behold. Chanyeol on top of you, naked — his skin glistening with sweat, and the light makes him look perfect. His muscles were flexing as he breathed. The sight increased your arousal by tenfold.
You rubbed your cunt to his shaft to grab his attention since he was back to ogling your body. The action snapped him out of his trance and he quickly unhooked your bra and removed your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He took your right nipple in his mouth and sucked while he squeezed your left boob. On reflex, you arched your back as he gave attention to your breasts. He shifted between your two mounds. You moaned in delight from the sensation.
Once he was satisfied with his work, he abruptly inserted two fingers to your core. You cried at the sudden intrusion. He expertly fingered you. You closed your eyes and relished on the way he was making you feel.
You felt him shift but he didn’t stop the onslaught to your cunt so you paid no attention to this. You released a whimper when all of a sudden he slipped his fingers out of you. You peeked at him, ready to scold him because he pulled out just when you were about to cum. But what greeted you was the view of Chanyeol putting on a condom.
“Sorry babe, I couldn’t wait anymore. I need to be inside you,” he said, not a hint of regret in his tone.
You gulped as you saw his big, veiny cock. “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he promised.
Then he shoved his dick to your pussy. “You’re so fucking tight.”
You grit your teeth, he was big and you felt so full. He waited a while for you to adjust to his size when he bottomed out.
“Fuck me, Chanyeol,” you begged.
The moment the words slipped out of your mouth, he obliged and pounded into you. His thrusts were so powerful that you couldn’t help but moan and gasp. He shifted a little, the position let him adjust his pace to a much faster one.
Lewd, sinful noises came out of your mouth as he fucked you hard, fulfilling his promise. “Who’s making you feel this good?” He asked cockily.
“Y-you are,” you stuttered.
“Say my name.”
“Cha-Chanyeol. Fuck. You make m-me feel so g-good Chanyeol.”
He was driving you to your climax so fast from his ministrations. You were clenching on his cock the closer you got to your release. His hand found its way to your clit and he rubbed it.
You spasmed as you reached your high. Chanyeol was quick to follow after a few harsh thrusts. After he came, he stood up to throw the used condom and grabbed a wet towel to clean you up. He was so gentle at doing it and you found yourself closing your eyes at how relaxing it was. The tiredness from work and the sex caught up with you. You didn’t even intend to sleep yet, but when you closed your eyes, nothing stopped you from falling asleep.
Chanyeol was nice enough not to kick you out after the sexual encounter. You thank the gods above that you woke up before Chanyeol did, because you knew it would be too awkward if he woke up before you. This was supposed to be a one night stand after all.
You slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake Chanyeol from his slumber. You quickly put on your clothes, well, as fast as your aching body could anyway. You tiptoed out of his room and left.
There wasn’t any need to write a note for him or whatever. Sure, the sex was good, amazing even, but you know nothing about him aside from his name and address. He could be a completely different person when he’s sober, you’ll never really know.
But fate had other plans for the two of you.
It was a week after that event that you saw Chanyeol again. You were driving home, taking in the view of the city. He was walking slowly, seemingly lost in thought, under the streetlights two blocks away from the yogurt shop you worked at.
You debated on whether or not to call him. He looked quite distant and lonely. If you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, you wouldn’t have thought that it was Chanyeol.
This Chanyeol looked the opposite of the Chanyeol you met at the club. There wasn’t any trace of cockiness. Even the smile you saw that he easily gave away to his friend was gone.
As if your body has a mind of its own, you found yourself pulling up and rolling down the window, “Chanyeol!”
He whipped his head to look at you, shocked. It kind of seemed like he saw a ghost. You chuckled.
“Get in, let’s drive!”
Normally, you wouldn’t be doing this. Chanyeol was a stranger after all, but oddly, he did feel familiar.
He looked reluctant but eventually he gave in. The car ride was quiet. You didn’t mind though, you like the silence so you didn’t attempt to break it.
Initially, you didn’t have any destination in mind, you were just driving aimlessly. You thought you were making random turns but then you realized you were going to the quieter parts of the city and into the location you’d always go to when you were feeling blue. It was fitting, Chanyeol did look like a darker shade of blue after all and no, you weren’t talking about his physical appearance.
You stopped your car by the cliff overlooking the city. There, everything looked small and less overwhelming. When you were there, it always made you feel like your problems were trivial things and it calmed you down.
You stepped out of the car, sat on the hood and watched as the sun set. The sun was giving the busy city a golden glow.
After a few minutes, Chanyeol got out of the car as well and sat beside you, taking in the view of the city. For the first time since you picked him up, a genuine smile had made its way into his face.
“Thank you,” he mumbled, never taking his sight away from the beautiful view.
You looked over at him, his features looked like he was relaxed. His blue faded and changed into a warm yellow. He looked better like that.
“Yeah, no problem.”
The both of you stayed there until the sky had turned black and it was the city lights’ turn to shine.
“Come on, Chanyeol, let’s head back.”
“Right.”
You were a block away from Chanyeol’s flat when he spoke up again. “Sorry I took up your time.”
“It’s fine. I didn’t have anything to do anyway,” you said nonchalantly.
By the time you reached his place, you turned to him, “So—”
You didn’t even get to finish whatever you were about to say when he cupped your face and kissed you. You were surprised but you kissed back anyway. And just like the first time you met him, you ended up tangled in his sheets, begging him to fuck you.
The third time you met him it was probably the hottest day of summer. You were in the mall to cool down. You’d rather be there than use the air conditioner in your room and take extra shifts to pay for the electricity.
You were wandering inside the mall, just looking through different shops and avoiding any crowded area in general.
“What are you doing?”
You got startled at the sudden sound.
“Chanyeol? What the fuck, I almost dropped this mug because of you!” You exclaimed.
He chuckled, “Sorry. It’s just that I noticed you looked a little bored.”
Oh, so he was using your lines now. You raised your brow and crossed your arms, waiting for what he’s going to say next. But the action only emphasized your breasts and of course Chanyeol just had to look.
“Don’t you want to do something fun?”
You smirked, “Only if it doesn’t involve sweating.”
“I can work with that.”
And work with that he did. You ended up being bent over under the shower as he fucked you relentlessly.
The only difference with this encounter from the rest was the piece of paper you found in the pocket of your shorts. Scribbled there was his number and a simple “Thank you.”
You didn’t even hesitate to message him as soon as you found it. He replied in an instant and surprisingly, he was pretty decent to talk with. You don’t talk about the nights of passion, but you do talk about yourselves.
For the first time since you met him, he was shedding his layers, and this time, these layers weren’t his clothes.
The next time you met up, it was intentional. One day he called, “Meet me behind the mall.” He didn’t have to ask twice, you’d go regardless.
By the time he arrived, he was riding a motorcycle. He shook his head as he removed his helmet. Then he ruffled his silver hair.
God, he was attractive.
“Hop in, babe,” he said as he hands you another helmet.
You grinned. It was your first time to ride a motorcycle and you couldn’t stop your excitement from showing.
He drove to an abandoned parking lot and for a moment you were confused. “What are we doing here?”
“Don’t you want to do something fun?” He smirked.
Your eyes widened. You definitely didn’t want to do that here.
He only laughed at your reaction. “I’m kidding! I mean, technically, I’m not.”
Your brows had furrowed. “Huh?”
“I’ll teach you how to ride this baby,” he said as he patted his motorcycle, “It’ll be fun.”
You squealed. “Really?”
He rolled his eyes but he had a faint smile, “Yeah.”
Chanyeol was a great teacher, but you liked to tease him so you purposely acted like you couldn’t understand him. You could tell his patience was wearing thin after two hours of him teaching you to no fruition.
“Okay, okay, let me try. Like, alone now,” you said.
He frowned, obviously unimpressed with your statement. Of course, he’d react that way, it was his baby, you just might crash it.
“I promise I’ll do my best,” you pleaded.
“Fine,” he reluctantly said.
“Thank you!”
You grinned at him as you got ready while he only pouted. But the pout had been replaced with a look of surprise when you finally rode and drove his bike.
And by the end of the day, his motorcycle wasn’t the only thing you got to ride.
The next few times you met up, you always ended up beneath him. But there were also days when he’d take you out — to a diner that was barely visited by people, to an arcade somewhere downtown, to the cliff overlooking the city.
Dates with Chanyeol were fun and weren’t overwhelming at all. He never brought you to places with too many crowds. It was intimate, the moments were shared between only the two of you.
It got to a point where you basically spent everyday with him. You would even cancel plans with your friends, just waiting for his call. Before you knew it, you were falling for him.
What sealed your feelings was the time he brought you to their beach house where you both spent the day swimming and chasing each other around.
“I want you,” he said as the night came.
Wanting was enough for you.
By the time you were both panting after the sexual activity, he turned his back to you and looked out the window, his facial expression as calm as the sea. You thought you had him then. You thought he was yours and you were his.
That is until you saw him at a record shop. You were there first, scanning through sections, looking for the 5 Seconds of Summer CD you wanted to purchase for so long. You paid no attention to your surroundings, too busy with your task.
And then you heard Chanyeol’s name being mentioned by a guy. Curiously, you hid behind a shelf and peeked. Chanyeol was there and you unconsciously smiled at the sight of him.
“Chanyeol, dude, be honest, are you seeing Y/N?”
Chanyeol looked confused. “Who’s Y/N?”
Your heart dropped at his answer.
“Don’t act so clueless.”
“I don’t know any Y/N.” He looked genuinely at a loss.
“Inez told me she saw you and Y/N at the arcade a couple of weeks ago. Did you even break up with your girlfriend?”
Your vision was already blurry when he said he didn’t know you but you tensed up at his friend’s question.
Chanyeol has a girlfriend?
You didn’t bother staying there to listen in to their conversation anymore. Your tears had already started falling so you quickly rushed out of the shop, keeping your head down low.
There were a lot of thoughts running through your mind.
“Chanyeol didn’t know my name… Is that why he only called me babe or kitten?”
“Chanyeol has a girlfriend and he cheated on her with me.”
“Was his girlfriend the reason why he only brought you out to secluded areas? Meeting only behind the mall? Driving to the quieter parts of the city to hang out?”
You were so frustrated at him and at yourself. You let him charm you. You let him worm his way into your heart. You let him make you fall in love.
So much for summer love.
#chanyeol x reader#chanyeol x you#chanyeol smut#chanyeol angst#chanyeol fluff#chanyeol fanfic#chanyeol fanfiction#exo smut#exo angst#exo fluff#exo fanfic#exo fanfiction#park chanyeol#exo chanyeol
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Indelible - Ch 12 White Space
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | AO3
“A vacation?” Luka frowned, his brow wrinkling. His eyes flicked from Jagged and Penny to the tall, well-dressed black woman sitting ramrod straight beside them. Lucille had been his agent since this whole thing started, but since Luka wasn’t Jagged, Lucille couldn’t be with him constantly. She had other clients and obligations besides Luka, so he rarely saw her in person except when they were in the studio’s corporate offices. She kept in touch regularly by phone and video conference, though, and Luka liked and trusted her. He liked her more because she didn’t baby him the way Penny did Jagged, and was more than willing to call him out when he was being unreasonable.
Now Lucille met his gaze evenly, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, but said nothing.
Jagged was tense, fingers tapping restlessly on the table, and he wouldn’t look at Luka, but none of that was especially unusual. Jagged hated sitting still and he hated meetings, and he and Luka had had enough artistic differences by now that things were always a little tense between them these days. Penny...well, Penny was hard to read, but he thought there was a little tension in her as well.
Luka’s own fingers began to tap the top of the conference table unconsciously as he glanced at Dingo beside him, and the two band members seated on his other side. “Why?” he asked slowly. “I know it’s the down season, but—aren’t there usually plenty of shows playing during the holidays? Should we really miss out on that?” He directed the question to Lucille; no matter how cool Penny was, Luka knew exactly where her loyalties lay.
Lucille shrugged, and her lack of concern at the prospect eased his sudden nerves a little. The sparkly gold nail polish she wore flashed as she leaned her elbows on the table and folded her hands. “You’ve been going pretty flat out for a few years now. I think this is a good time for a break.” She glanced at Jagged and pressed her lips together slightly as her dark eyes came back to Luka’s and held them for a moment. She wanted to say more, Luka guessed, but not here. Luka shifted his gaze back to Penny.
“The lineups for holiday and New Years concerts are pretty eclectic,” Penny demurred. “Lots of big names. We won’t really need an opening act, and—well.” She glanced at Jagged. “We figured you could use a break,” she finished, a little too cheerfully. “The last tour was rough on everybody, and you’ve been spending a lot of time in the studio since we got back. It’ll be good for you to get a little downtime with your family—” she glanced at the rest of the band. “Families, before we start locking things down here and gearing up for the summer.”
Luka regarded her for a moment longer, and then turned his seat to face Jenna. She shrugged. “I wouldn’t say no to a break,” she admitted, her cheeks taking on a bit of a flush. “The schedule’s been a bit rougher than I expected, to be honest. I wouldn’t mind a breather, and my brother’s supposed to be bringing his new wife to meet the family this Christmas. If you need me I’m there, of course, but it would be nice to go home for a bit.”
Crusher, clearly bored and slumped so low in his chair that he was practically on the floor, just snorted when Luka looked at him. “You’re the brand here,” he said, a slightly sour note in his tone. “If you burn out, we’re all out of the job, so I’m on board with whatever.”
His attitude irritated Luka, but, taking a deep breath, Luka turned to his other side to look at Dingo. Dingo’s thumbs were moving over his phone, apparently oblivious to the entire conversation, although Luka was sure he had heard every word.
Luka slumped back in his chair and faced back towards Jagged and Penny, regarding them silently for a moment. Penny looked professional as always, but her face softened a little as he looked at her. Jagged had his arms folded around his chest and still wouldn’t meet Luka’s eyes. He was practically vibrating, clearly ready to be done with this whole thing.
Part of Luka wanted to refuse, to put up the fight Penny and Jagged were clearly expecting, to force Jagged to include him in whatever the hell was going on, to remind him that Luka would not be shoved aside and ignored, but…he glanced at Lucille one more time. Her eyes flicked to Jagged and then back to Luka. Luka stared back at her for a moment, and then sighed as he looked away.
“Okay, sure,” he said finally, and Jagged visibly relaxed, getting up almost at once..
“That’s the spirit. Go home, kid,” Jagged leaned over the table to slap a hand down on Luka’s shoulder, and then started for the door. “Show your ma you’re okay and get her off my back.”
“Mom?” Luka asked, confused, but Jagged was already gone. For a moment, nobody else moved. Jenna and Crusher looked at each other, and then they both got up and slipped out of the conference room. Dingo continued to text, still apparently oblivious.
“I think this is a good choice, Luka,” Penny said, pushing back from the table. “You’ve really hit the ground running since you came with us. I know you want to make the most of this opportunity and that’s fine, but we can all see you need a break. This life,” she made a broad gesture that encompassed the studio’s offices, and everything that went along with them, “it’s a lot. You’re not the only young artist to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. We just want you to pace yourself, that’s all.”
"Why is this suddenly all about me? I’m overwhelmed, but the others are fine?” Luka demanded, aware that he was getting defensive.
“Oi, some of us actually know how to take a break,” Dingo spoke up, without looking up from his phone. “You’re the one flying around and networking and getting mentored by the greats whenever we get some down time. You’re exhausted and you know it, dumbass.”
“You’re the face of the band, Luka, and you have run yourself a little ragged,” Penny agreed. “We can tell it’s wearing on you. There’s no shame in taking a break now and then.”
“Right. Just looking out for me,” Luka muttered. Unreasonably irritated, he stood up and began picking up his things, sliding on the sunglasses Marinette had made him. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He needed to get somewhere private before he took his confused tangle of feelings out on someone who didn’t deserve it. He could read the message here; he’d been butting heads with Jagged for months now, and the rock star was clearly over it. Jagged wanted Luka gone, so they’d cooked up some crap about Luka needing a break. As if Luka couldn’t handle anything the old man could handle, and with a hell of a lot more grace.
Penny hesitated, watching him, and then stood herself, leaning forward over the table a little. “Listen, Luka. Whatever you think you needed to prove, you’ve more than done it. We all see how hard you work, including Jagged. You’ve made the most of every chance he’s given you and nobody doubts that you deserve to be here. Not anymore. So just...take the break. We all want to see you succeed, but not everybody can be Jagged.”
“I don’t want to be Jagged,” Luka huffed, and then gritted his teeth to keep back the rest of what he was tempted to say.
“We know. Your mom knows. That’s why we’re sending you home. You need those connections, and you need to recharge a little bit before—” She jumped slightly, and then glanced at Lucille. “Well, anyway. I think this will be good for you,” she said, picking up her tablet quickly.
Luka watched her mutter something to Lucille and make a hasty exit, and then turned back to his agent, raising an eyebrow. “Did you just step on her foot?”
Lucille flashed him a grin. “Damn straight. You’re my lookout, not hers. Sit back down for a second.”
Luka did, slowly, and Lucile leaned forward. “Listen, we can all tell that things are getting tense between you and Jagged. That’s to be expected, frankly. Jagged never did share the spotlight well, and you’ve got your own vision and you’re committed to it. That’s a good thing , Luka. It’s about time that you started thinking about your career separate from Jagged. This new album release will be a great time to start really hyping you up as an artist, and start separating your name from his.”
Luka blinked. “...Really? You think I’m— we’re —ready for that?”
Lucille nodded. “It’ll mean a lot of work, it’ll mean playing extra gigs on your own as well as opening the big arena shows for him. It’s going to be exhausting.” She sighed. “Here’s the thing, Luka. You know and I know that part of this is Jagged throwing a snit, but the fact is, all of us can see that you’re running on empty. The rest of the band won’t say it, but you’re starting to run them into the ground too.”
Dingo huffed beside him. “I’ll damn well say it.”
Lucille ignored him. “Go home. Spend some time with your family. Unwind and maybe work out some of those knots you’ve tied yourself in. If you really can’t handle doing nothing for that long, I can book you some local shows if you want. Maybe some of those smaller venue gigs you said you’ve been missing?”
“That...would be nice,” Luka sighed, taking the glasses back off to rub his hand over his face. Juleka was supposed to be in Paris for the next three months, too, so he’d actually have a home to go to. It would be nice to spend some time with her. Luka nodded slowly, and Lucille reached out and patted his hand.
“Go home,” she repeated. “Do whatever you’ve gotta do to recharge, because come the new year we’re going to work, and before long it’s going to be your name on the marquee.”
Luka sighed, and then mustered a smile. “Has my mom seriously been calling Jagged?”
“Every damn day for the last month, Penny said,” Lucille grinned. “I heard the last one, it was beautiful. I’ll have to stop by Paris while you’re there so I can meet her, I’d like to shake her hand.”
Luka grinned. “You’d get along.”
“I bet.” Lucille stood up. “I’m on your side, Luka. Don’t forget it, okay? Whatever you need, I’ll make it happen.”
“I know,” Luka’s smile turned a little more genuine. “Thanks.”
“Hey,” Lucille leaned down, putting a hand on the table and tapping her other finger on it for emphasis. “This is not a setback. This is not a punishment. This is the deep breath before the dive into the deep end, okay?”
Luka nodded, and Lucille straightened. “Have a nice trip, okay?” she grinned, and then left.
“Can we go now?” Dingo grunted, and Luka rolled his eyes, grabbing his things again.
Neither of them said anything on the walk back to the hotel. Luka was brooding, he knew it, and Dingo was still so deep in his phone that Luka had to steer him around obstacles.
Not until they were back in the room did Dingo finally shove his phone back in his pocket and look Luka in the face.
“Why are you so sour about taking a vacation?” Dingo demanded, throwing himself down on the couch in their suite. “Vacations are a good thing!
“Yeah, of course,” Luka said, walking over to the window and opening the curtain to look out at the city. He’d never really clicked with London, but then he hadn’t ever really gotten out and looked at it, either. He spent most of the time in the studio when they were here, and by the time they returned from tour, the last thing he really cared about was sightseeing and crowds.
“Normal people go home more than twice a year, Lulu.”
“Jagged doesn’t,” Luka pointed out. “He barely even has a home."
“As if Jagged was ever normal,” Dingo snorted, but then he pushed himself up with a sigh. “Luka.” He put his hands on Luka’s shoulders and steered him over to the couch, shoving him down in it. “Mate, you don’t want to be Jagged.” Dingo sat down in the armchair chair and scooted it over until they were practically knee to knee. “You know you don’t. Even if you did, you’re not built like him. You’d bleed to death trying to cut out the people you love.”
Luka took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “It feels like admitting he’s right,” he said finally. “If I can’t juggle both, if I can’t stay connected with my family and still kill it on the road...it feels like admitting he wouldn’t have been able to achieve everything he’s achieved if he’d kept us in his lives. I mean if…if he really did that...if he really is my...”
“No if’s here, mate,” Dingo said, uncharacteristically solemn. “They don’t have to admit it for it to be true, and I think we both know it is.”
Luka sighed, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.
“Oi,” Dingo said, and Luka felt his friend’s hand fall on his shoulder and squeeze. “Maybe he is right. That doesn’t make him less of an ass for making the choices he did. It doesn’t mean you have to forgive him. He doesn’t get a free pass for being a shit dad just because he’s the greatest rock n’ roll legend who ever lived. So fuck him. You didn’t start this because of Jagged, and even if he opened some doors, we’ve earned our place here. Don’t lose sight of that.”
Luka reached up and put his hand over Dingo’s, and took a few shaky breaths. Then he nodded, and Dingo squeezed his shoulder one more time before letting go. “Fuck him,” Dingo repeated, leaning back. “Go home. Spend some time with Juleka and the Captain.” He grinned. “Take Marinette on a date that doesn’t involve a phone.” He slid his sunglasses down his nose and winked. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how often you’ve been disappearing lately.”
Luka rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth as he straightened up and leaned back in his chair. Instead of denying it he found himself saying, “I don’t even know what her schedule is. She might not even plan to be in Paris over New Years.”
“Well get the lead out, mate, what are you waiting for?” Dingo got up and slapped Luka’s arm as he walked by. “Hell, I’ve already booked my tickets to meet up with Bri in Nice before we head back to Paris. Think I can talk her into hitting the beaches with me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Luka.
“It’ll be December and the beaches in Nice are made of rocks, so I’m gonna go with ‘no,’” Luka said absently, pulling out his phone.
He texted Juleka first, and then his mom. Once he knew what dates they were planning to be in Paris he’d be better able to make his own plans. Then he sat there, his thumb hovering over Marinette’s picture.
It didn’t have to be a date, but...it would be nice to see Marinette in person. It didn’t hurt to ask. If she was busy, that would be fine. He tapped out a message and sent it, and then turned his chair towards the window again, staring blankly out at the city.
A few moments later his phone lit up and buzzed in his hand, and then buzzed again, and then a third time. Luka chuckled as he turned it over to look as another message came through.
He still wasn’t sure it was the right call, but...if they wanted him to take a vacation, he might as well make the most of it, right?
Fiction Master Post
#quickspins#indelible#lukanette#endgame lukanette#lukanette endgame#luka couffaine#marinette dupain-cheng#miraculousladybug#miraculous ladybug#pro lukamari
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Free Music in a Capitalist Society - Iggy Pop's Keynote Speech Transcript
Hi, I'm Iggy Pop. I've held a steady job at BBC 6 Music now for almost a year, which is a long time in my game. I always hated radio and the jerks who pushed that shit music into my tender mind, with rare exceptions. When I was a boy, I used to sit for hours suffering through the entire US radio top 40 waiting for that one song by The Beatles and the other one by The Kinks. Had there been anything like John Peel available in my Midwestern town I would have been thrilled. So it's an honor to be here. I understand that. I appreciate it.
Some months ago when the idea of this talk came up I thought it might be okay to talk about free music in a Capitalist society. So that's what I'm gonna try to talk about. A society in which the Capitalist system dominates all the others, and seeks their destruction when they get in its way. Since then, the shit has really hit the fan on the subject, thanks to U2 and Apple. I worked half of my life for free. I didn't really think about that one way or the other, until the masters of the record industry kept complaining that I wasn't making them any money. To tell you the truth, when it comes to art, money is an unimportant detail. It just happens to be a huge one unimportant detail. But, a good LP is a being, it's not a product. It has a life-force, a personality, and a history, just like you and me. It can be your friend. Try explaining that to a weasel.
As I learned when I hit 30 +, and realized I was penniless, and almost unable to get my music released, music had become an industrial art and it was the people who excelled at the industry who got to make the art. I had to sell most of my future rights to keep making records to keep going. And now, thanks to digital advances, we have a very large industry, which is laughably maybe almost entirely pirate so nobody can collect shit. Well, it was to be expected. Everybody made a lot of money reselling all of recorded musical history in CD form back in the 90s, but now the cat is out of the bag and the new electronic devices which estrange people from their morals also make it easier to steal music than to pay for it. So there's gonna be a correction.
When I started The Stooges we were organized as a group of Utopian communists. All the money was held communally and we lived together while we shared the pursuit of a radical ideal. We shared all song writing, publishing and royalty credits equally – didn’t matter who wrote it - because we'd seen it on the back of a Doors album and thought it was cool, at least I did. Yeah. I thought songwriting was about the glory, I didn't know you'd get paid for it. We practiced a total immersion to try to forge a new approach which would be something of our own. Something of lasting value. Something that was going to be revealed and created and was not yet known.
We are now in the age of the schemer and the plan is always big, big, big, but it's the nature of the technology created in the service of the various schemes that the pond, while wide, is very shallow. Nobody cares about anything too deeply expect money. Running out of it, getting it. I never sincerely wanted to be rich. There is a, in the US, we have this guy “Do you sincerely wanna be rich? You can do it!” I didn’t sincerely want to be rich. I never sincerely felt like making anyone else that way. That made me a kind of a wild card in the 60's and 70's. I got into the game because it felt good to play and it felt like being free. I'm still hearing today about how my early works with The Stooges were flops. But they're still in print and they sell 45 years later, they sell. Okay, it took 20 or 25 years for the first royalties to roll in. So sue me.
Some of us who couldn't get anywhere for years kept beating our heads against the same wall to no avail. No one did that better than my friends The Ramones. They kept putting out album after album, frustrated that they weren't getting the hit. They even tried Phil Spector and his handgun. After the first couple of records, which made a big impact, they couldn't sustain the quality, but I noticed that every album had at least one great song and I thought, wow if these guys would just stop and give it a rest, society would for sure catch up to them. And that's what's happening now, but they're not around to enjoy it. I used to run into Johnny at a little rehearsal joint in New York and he'd be in a big room all alone with a Marshall stack just going "dum, dum, dum, dum, dum" all my himself. I asked him why and he said if he didn't practice doing that exactly the way he did it live he'd lose it. He was devoted and obsessive, so were Joey and Deedee. I like that. Johnny asked me one day - Iggy don't you hate Offspring and the way they're so popular with that crap they play. That should be us, they stole it from us. I told him look, some guys are born and raised to be the captain of the football team and some guys are just gonna be James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause and that's the way it is. Not everybody is meant to be big. Not everybody big is any good.
I only ever wanted the money because it was symbolic of love and the best thing I ever did was to make a lifetime commitment to continue playing music no matter what, which is what I resolved to do at the age of 18. If who you are is who you are that is really hard to steal, and it can lead you in all sorts of useful directions when the road ahead of you is blocked and it will get blocked. Now I'm older and I need all the dough I can get. So I too am concerned about losing those lovely royalties, now that they've finally arrived, in the maze of the Internet. But I'm also diversifying my income, because a stream will dry up. I'm not here to complain about that, I'm here to survive it.
When I was starting out as a full time musician I was walking down the street one bright afternoon in the seedier part of my Midwestern college town. I passed a dive bar and from it emerged a portly balding pallid middle aged musician in a white tux with a drink in one hand and a guitar in the other. He was blinking in the daylight. I had a strong intuition that this was a fate to be avoided. He seemed cut off from society and resigned to an oblivious obscurity. A bar fly. An accessory to booze. So how do you engage society as an artist and get them to pay you? Well, that's a matter of art. And endurance.
To start with, I cannot stress enough the importance of study. I was lucky to work in a discount record store in Ann Arbor Michigan as a stock boy where I was exposed to a little bit of every form of music imaginable on record at the time. I listened to it all whether I liked it or not. Be curious. And I played in my high school orchestra and I learned the joy of the warm organic instruments working together in the service of a classical piece. That sticks with you forever. If anyone out there can get a chance to put an instrument and some knowledge in some kids hand, you've done a great, great thing.
Comparative information is a key to freedom. I found other people who were smarter than me. To teach me. My first pro band was a blues band called The Prime Movers and the leader Michael Erlewine was a very bright hippy beatnik with a beautifully organized record collection in library form of The Blues. I'd never really heard the Blues. That part of our American heritage was kept off the major media. It was system up, people down. No Big Bill Broonzy on BBC for us. Boy I wish! No money in it. But everything I learned from Michael's beautiful library became the building blocks for anything good I've done since. Guys like this are priceless. If you find one, follow him, or her. Get the knowledge.
Once in secondary school in the 60's some class clowns dressed up the tallest guy in school in a trench coat, shades and a fedora and rushed him in to a school dance with great hubbub proclaiming "Del Shannon is here, Del Shannon is here." And until they got to the stage we all believed them, because nobody knew what Del Shannon looked like. He was just a voice on some great records. He had no social ID. By the early 60's that had really changed with the invasion of The Beatles and The Stones. This time TV was added to the mix and print media too. So you knew who they were, or so you thought anyway. I'm mentioning this because the best way to survive the death or change of an industry is to transcend its form. You're better off with an identity of your own or maybe a few of them. Something special.
It is my own personal view having lived through it that in America The Beatles replaced our assassinated president Kennedy, who represented our hopes for a certain kind of society. Didn’t get there. And The Stones replaced our assassinated folk music which our own leaders suppressed for cultural, racial, and financial reasons. It wasn't okay with everybody to be Kennedy or Muddy Waters, but those messages could be accepted if they came through white entertainers from the parent culture. That's why they’re still around.
Years later I had the impression that Apple, the corporation, had successfully co-opted the good feelings that the average American felt about the culture of the Beatles, by kind of stealing the name of their company so I bought a little stock. Good move. 1992. Woo! But look, everybody is subject to the rip off and has to change affiliations from time to time. Even Superman and Barbie were German before America tempted them to come over. Tough luck, Nietzche.
So who owns what anyway. Or as Bob Dylan said "The relationships of ownership." That’s gates of Eden. Nobody knows for long, especially these days. Apparently when BBC radio was founded, the record companies in England wouldn't allow the BBC to play their master recordings because they thought no one would buy them for their personal use if they could hear them free on the radio. So they were really confused about what they had. They didn’t get it. And how people feel about music. ‘Cause it’s a feel thing, and it resists logic. It’s not binary code. Later when CD's came in, the retail merchants in American all panicked because they were just too damn tiny and they thought that Americans want something that looks big, like a vinyl record. Well they had a point but their solution was a kind of Frankenstein called "The Long Box." It didn't fool anybody because half of it was empty. It had a little CD in the bottom. You’d open it up and it was empty. Now we have people in the Sahara using GPS to bury huge wads of Euros under sand dunes for safe keeping. But GPS was created for military spying from the high ground, not radical banking so any sophisticated system, along with the bounty it brings, is subject to primitive hijacking.
I wanna talk about a type of entrepreneur who functions as a kind of popular music patron of the arts. It’s good to know a patron. I call him El Padron because his relationship to the artist is essentially feudal, though benign. He or she (La Padrona) if you will, is someone, usually the product of successful, enlightened parents, who owns a record company, but has had benefit of a very good education, and can see a bigger picture than a petty business person. If they like an artists’ style and it suits them, they'll support you even if you’re not a big money spinner. I can tell you, some of these powerful guys get so bored that if you are fun in the office, you’ll go places. Their ancestors, the old time record crooks just made it their business to make great, great records, but also to rip off the artist 100%, copyright, publishing, royalty splits, agency fees, you name it. If anyone complained the line was "Pay you? We worship you!" God bless Bo Diddley.
By the time I came along, there was a new brand of Padron. People like this are still around and some can help you. One was named Jack Holzman. Jack had a beautiful label called Elektra Records, they put out Judy Collins, Tim Buckley, the Doors and Love. He'd started working in his family record store, like Brian Epstein. He dressed mod and he treated us very gently. He was a civilized man. He obviously loved the arts, but what he really wanted to do was build his business - and he did. He had his own concerns, and style, and you had to serve them, and of course when he sold out, as all indies do, you were stranded culturally in the hands of a cold clumsy conglomerate. But he put us in the right studios with the right producers and he tried to get us seen in the right venues and it really helped. This is a good example of the industry.
Another good guy I met is Sir Richard Branson. I ended up serving my full term at Virgin Records having been removed from every other label. And he created a superior culture there. People were happier and nicer than the weasels at some other places. The first time he tried to sign me it didn't work out, because I had my sights set on A&M, a company I thought would help make me respectable. After all they had Sting! Richard was secretly starting his own company at the time in the US and he phoned me in my tiny flat with no furniture. He said he'd give me a longer term deal with more dough than the other guys and he was very, very polite and soft spoken. But I had just smoked a joint that day and I couldn't make a decision. So I went with the other guys who soon got sick of me. Virgin picked me up again later on the rebound. And on the cheap. Damn. My own fault.
Another kind of indie legend who is slightly more contemporary is Long Gone John of the label Sympathy for the Record Industry. Good name. John is famous with some artists for his disinterest in paying royalties. He has a very interesting music themed folk art collection – its visible online - which includes my leather jacket. I wish he'd give it back. There are lots of indie people with a gift for organization who just kind of collect freaks and throw them up at the wall to see who sticks. You gotta watch 'em.
When you go a step down creatively from the Padrons who are actually entrepreneurs you get to the executives. You don't wanna know these guys. They usually came over from legal or accounting. They have protégés usually called A&R men to do their dirty work. You can become a favorite with them if your fame or image might reflect limelight on their career. They tend to have no personalities to speak of, which is their strength. Strangely they're never really thinking about the good of their parent company as much as old number one. Avoid them. If you’re an artist, they’ll make you sick or suicidal. The only good thing the conglomerate can do for you – and they’ve done it recently for me - is make you really, really ubiquitous. They do that well. But, when the company is your banker, then you are basically gonna be the Beverly Hill Billies. So it's best not to take their money. Especially when you’re young. These are very tough people, and they can hurt you.
So who are the good guys?! They asked me when they read this thing at BBC 6 Music. Well there are lots of them. If fact, today there are more than ever and they are just about all indies, but first I want to mention Peter Gabriel and WOMAD for everything they've done for what seems like forever to help the greatest musicians in the world, the so called world musicians to gain a foothold and make a living in the modern screwed up cash and carry world. Traditional music was never a for profit enterprise, all the best forms were developed as a kind of you’re job in the community. It was pretty good, it was “Yeah, I’m a musician, I’m gonna skip like doing the dishes or taking the trash out.” It's not surprising that all the greatest singers and players come from parts of the world where everybody is broke and the old ways are getting paved over. So it's crucial for everyone that these treasures not be lost. There are other people of means and intelligence who help others in this way like Philip Glass through Tibet House, David Burn with Luaka Bop, Damon Albarn through Honest John Records. Shout out to Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. Almost all the best music is coming out on indies today like XL Matador, Burger, Anti, Epitaph, Mute, Rough Trade, 4 A D, Sub Pop, etc. etc.
But now YouTube is trying to put the squeeze on these people because it's just easier for a power nerd to negotiate with a couple big labels who own the kind of music that people listen to when they're really not that into music, which of course is most people. So they've got the numbers. But the indies kind of have the guns. I've noticed that indies are showing strength at some of the established streaming services like Spotify and Rhapsody – people are choosing that music. And it's also great that some people are starting their own outlets, like Pledge Music, Band Camp or Drip. As the commercial trade swings more into general show biz the indies will be the only place to go for new talent, outside the Mickey Mouse Club, so I think they were right to band together and sign the Fair Digital Deals Declaration.
There are just so many ways to screw an artist that it's unbelievable. In the old vinyl days they would deduct 10% "breakage fees" for records supposedly broken in shipping, whether that happened or not, and now they have unattributed digital revenue, whatever the **** that means. It means money for some guy’s triple bypass. I actually think that what Thom Yorke has done with Bit Torrent is very good. I was gonna say here: “Sure the guy is a pirate at Bit Torrent” but I was warned legally, so I’ll say: “Sure the guy a Bit Torrent is a pirate’s friend” But all pirates want to go legit, just like I wanted to be respectable. It’s normal. After a while people feel like you’re a crook, it’s too hard to do business. So it’s good in this case that Thom Yorke is encouraging a positive change. The music is good. It’s being offered at a low price direct to people who care.
I want to try to define what I am talking about when I say free. For me in the arts or in the media, there are two kinds of free. One kind of free is when the process is something that people just feel for you. You feel a sense of possibility. You feel a lack of constraint. This leads to powerful, energetic, sometimes kind of loony situations.
Vice Media is an interesting case of this because they started as a free handout, using public funds, and they had open, free-wheeling minds. Originally a free handout was called Voice and these kids were like “Just get rid of the old! I don’t wanna be Vice, yeah!” Okay. By taking an immersive approach with no particular preconceptions to their reporting, they've become a huge success, also through corporate advertising, at attracting big, big money investment hundreds of millions of dollars now pumped into Fox Media and a couple of others bigger than that in the US. And they get it because they attract lots of little boy eyeballs. So they brought us Dennis Rodman in North Korea. And it’s kind of a travesty, but it’s kind of spunky. It's interesting that capital investment, for all its posturing, never really leads, it always follows. They follow the action. So if it's money you're after, be the yourself in a consistent way and you might get it. You’ll at least end up getting what you are worth and feel better. Just follow your nose.
The second kind of freedom to me that is important in the media is the idea of giving freely. When you feel or sense that someone that someone is giving you something not out of profit, but out of self-respect, Christian charity, whatever it is. That has a very powerful energy. The Guardian, in my understanding, was founded by an endowment by a successful man with a social conscience who wanted to help create a voice for what I would call the little guy. So they have a kind of moral mission or imperative. This has given them the latitude to try to be interesting, thoughtful, helpful. And they bring Edward Snowden to the world stage. Something that is not pleasant for a lot of people to hear about, but we need to know.
These two approaches couldn't be more different. To justify their new mega bucks Vice will have to expand and expand in capital terms. Presumably they'll have to titillate a dumb, but energetic audience. Of course all capitalist expansions are subject to the big bang – balloon, bust, poof, and you’re gone. As for the Guardian I would imagine that the task involves gaining the trust and support of a more discerning, less definable reader, without spending the principal. There is usually an antipathy between cultural poles, but these two actually have a lot in common in terms of the energy and nuisance to power that they are willing to generate. I wish red and blue could come together somehow.
Sometimes I'd rather read than listen to music. One of my favourite odd books is Bootleg: The Secret History of the Other Recording Industry by Clinton Heylin. I bought the book in the 90's because a couple of my bootlegs were mentioned. I loved my bootlegs. They did a lot for me. I never really thought about the dough much. I liked the titles, like Suck on This, Stow Away DOA or Metalic KO. The packaging was always way more creative and edgy than most of my official stuff. So I just liked being seen and heard, like anybody else. These bootleggers were creative. Here are two quotes from the dust jacket by veteran industry stalwarts on the subject of bootlegs in 1994.
"Bootleg is the thoroughly researched and highly entertaining tale of those colorful brigands, hapless amateurs, and true believers who have done wonders for my record collection. Rock and roll doesn't get more underground than this." – that was David Fricke, the music editor of Rolling Stone "I think that bootlegs keep the flame of the music alive by keeping it out of not only the industry's conception of the artist, but also the artist's conception of the artist." – that was Lenny Kaye from the Patti Smith group, musician, critic and my friend.
Wow!! Sounds heroic and vital!
I wonder what these guys feel about all of this now, because things have changed, haven't they? We are now talking about Megaupload, Kim Dot Com, big money, political power, and varying definitions of theft that are legally way over my head. But I know a con man when I see one. I want to include a rant from an early bootlegger in this discussion because it's so passionate and I just think it's funny.
This is Lou Cohan "If anybody thinks that if I have purchased every single Rolling Stones album in existence, and I have bought all the Rolling Stones albums that have been released in England, France, Japan, Italy, and Brazil that if I have an extra $100 in my pocket instead of buying a Rolling Stones bootleg I am going to buy a John Denver album or a Sinead O'Conner album, they are retarded."
So the guy is trying to say don't try to force me. And don't steal my choice. And the people who don't want the free U2 download are trying to say, don't try to force me. And they've got a point. Part of the process when you buy something from an artist. It’s a kind of anointing, you are giving people love. It’s your choice to give or withhold. You are giving a lot of yourself, besides the money. But in this particular case, without the convention, maybe some people felt like they were robbed of that chance and they have a point. It’s not the only point. These are not bad guys. But now, everybody's a bootlegger, but not as cute, and there are people out there just stealing the stuff and saying don't try to force me to pay. And that act of thieving will become a habit and that’s bad for everything. So we are exchanging the corporate rip off for the public one. Aided by power nerds. Kind of computer Putins. They just wanna get rich and powerful. And now the biggest bands are charging insane ticket prices or giving away music before it can flop, in an effort to stay huge. And there's something in this huge thing that kind of sucks.
Which brings us to Punk. The most punk thing I ever saw in my life was Malcolm McLaren's cardboard box full of dirty old winkle pinkers. It was the first thing I saw walking in the door of Let It Rock in 1972 which was his shop at Worlds End on the Kings Road. It was a huge ugly cardboard bin full of mismatched unpolished dried out winkle pickers without laces at some crazy price like maybe five pounds each. Another 200 yards up the street was Granny Takes a Trip, where they sold proper Rockstar clothes like scarves, velvet jackets, and snake skin platform boy boots. Malcolm's obviously worthless box of shit was like a fire bomb against the status quo because it was saying that these violent shoes have the right idea and they are worth more than your fashion, which serves a false value. This is right out of the French enlightenment.
So is the thieving that big a deal? Ethically, yes, and it destroys people because it's a bad road you take. But I don't think that's the biggest problem for the music biz. I think people are just a little bit bored, and more than a little bit broke. No money. Especially simple working people who have been totally left out, screwed and abandoned. If I had to depend on what I actually get from sales I’d be tending bars between sets. I mean honestly it’s become a patronage system. There’s a lot of corps involved and I don’t fault any of them but it’s not as much fun as playing at the Music Machine in Camden Town in 1977. There is a general atmosphere of resentment, pressure, kind of strange perpetual war, dripping on all the time. And I think that prosecuting some college kid because she shared a file is a lot like sending somebody to Australia 200 years ago for poaching his lordship's rabbit. That's how it must seem to poor people who just want to watch a crappy movie for free after they’ve been working themselves to death all day at Tesco or whatever, you know.
If I wanna make music, at this point in my life I'd rather do what I want, and do it for free, which I do, or cheap, if I can afford to. I can. And fund through alternative means, like a film budget, or a fashion website, both of which I've done. Those seem to be turning out better for me than the official rock n roll company albums I struggle through. Sorry. If I wanna make money, well how about selling car insurance? At least I'm honest. It's an ad and that's all it is. Every free media platform I've ever known has been a front for advertising or propaganda or both. And it always colors the content. In other words, you hear crap on the commercial radio. The licensing of music by films, corps, and TV has become a flood, because these people know they're not a hell of a lot of fun so they throw in some music that is. I'm all for that, because that's the way the door opened for me. I got heard on tv before radio would take a chance. But then I was ok. Good. And others too. I notice there are a lot of people, younger and younger, getting their exposure that way. But it's a personal choice. I think it’s an aesthetic one, not an ethical one.
Now with the Internet people can choose to hear stuff and investigate it in their own way. If they want to see me jump around the Manchester Apollo with a horse tail instead of trying to be a proper Rockstar, they can look. Good. Personally I don't worry too much about how much I get paid for any given thing, because I never expected much in the first place and the whole industry has become bloated in its expectations. Look, Howling Wolf would work for a sandwich. This whole thing started in Honky Tonk bars. It's more important to do something important or just make people feel something and then just trust in God. If you're an entertainer your God is the public. They'll take care of you somehow. I want them to hear my music any old which way. Period. There is an unseen hand that turns the pages of existence in ways no one can predict. But while you’re waiting for God to show up and try to find a good entertainment lawyer.
It's good to remember that this is a dream job, whether you're performing or working in broadcasting, or writing or the biz. So dream. Dream. Be generous, don’t be stingy. Please. I can't help but note that it always seems to be the pursuit of the money that coincides with the great art, but not its arrival. It's just kind of a death agent. It kills everything that fails to reflect its own image, so your home turns into money, your friends turn into money, and your music turns into money. No fun, binary code – zero one, zero one - no risk, no nothing. What you gotta do you gotta do, life's a hurly-burly, so I would say try hard to diversify your skills and interests. Stay away from drugs and talent judges. Get organized. Big or little, that helps a lot.
I'd like you to do better than I did. Keep your dreams out of the stinky business, or you'll go crazy, and the money won't help you. Be careful to maintain a spiritual EXIT. Don't live by this game because it's not worth dying for. Hang onto your hopes. You know what they are. They’re private. Because that's who you really are and if you can hang around long enough you should get paid. I hope it makes you happy. It's the ending that counts, and the best things in life really are free.
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Treasured Hoard: Part 2
Part 1
Description: Dragon Hoseok! You're spelunking when you come across a dragon, and suddenly your life is a lot more complicated as he adds you to his hoard.
Warnings: Not really
Posted: 01/07/2020
Tags: Dragon!Hoseok, Shapeshifter!Hosoek, Hoseok X Reader
Fluff?: 2,465 words
A/N: I know y’all still want a second part to Different Skins, we’re honestly lucky I’m getting any writing done so. Have this instead!
As if being trapped in a dragon’s den against your will wasn’t bad enough, this one also didn’t seem to know what humans needed to survive, or understand why you were upset that he wouldn’t at least get you your own belongings from the house you were renting.
“You don’t need those things anymore!” Hoseok frowned, huffing out another plume of smoke.
You choked before you could respond. You’d been arguing with him for over an hour, already. If you didn’t die from lung cancer, it would be a miracle. But you needed to make some sort of hyper-logical point or he would never listen to you.
“I can get you anything you need, and more. You’re part of my hoard now, after all.”
“Just…” You sighed, then let your gaze snap up as you thought of the appropriate words. “It’s a human’s own special sort of hoard. Yes, we can part with it, but those things hold importance to us! I have family photos and relics that I can’t bear the thought of losing, and clothes that would work much better for in here than what you’ve been getting me because they’ll actually fit me!”
He looked thoughtful now. “I suppose that does make sense. My mother usually had things that she guarded possessively, I suppose I always thought it came from when she would shift into a dragon.Will…will it make you happy—to have your hoard?”
“Yes,” You answered, shrugging a little. Not that you minded wearing clothes that were too big, but it got a little chilly at night, and you didn’t even have your pictures or anything that had sentiment to you.
He straightened and smiled. “Alright, I will retrieve your hoard, but you must stay here. I’ll not risk my treasure.”
You groaned. “Fine. Here’s the key to the house.”
He took it, examining it carefully, then nodded. He shifted as he walked away and some wind buffered your face as he took off.
You sighed and went back to the kitchen-like area, making a face at the food he’d brought you. Sure, you’d been there a few days now, so you were partially used to him bringing you very fresh meat, but you couldn’t help but wonder what that meat actually was before he’d skillfully butchered it and brought it to you.
But he’d also ‘collected’ a wood-burning stove for you to use after he noticed you struggling to cook over a tiny campfire you’d managed to make the day before, and the face you made when he cooked your meat to a char the first day. He’d been waiting outside the cave designated as yours (which he’d filled with lush cushions and blankets—something he appeared to have an abundance of) that morning, pulling you excitedly to where he kept his food to show you the stove. He’d even gotten a ton of firewood for you and piled it nearby, and made sure the chimney part of the stove was high enough to catch the smoke and be pulled out with the rest—a phenomenon you still couldn’t quite explain.
You had found a knife sometime during your first day, and you used it to cut the meat into smaller pieces. As you cooked (with one pan that you’d found laying in a corner collecting dust), you could hear him coming and going, and you barely held yourself back from going to make sure he got everything. Wondering if he’d clean out the house or leave things behind. You’d just gotten groceries…
“Okay, I have retrieved your hoard,” He said, sounding very proud of himself.
You glanced back and smiled, washing your hands and following him out.
Your eyes widened. “Oh…you brought the fridge?”
“Yes, and I realized it used that electricity so I also asked my mother for a power source and she has given it to me. Where should I put this…fridge?”
“Uh, same room as the stove. Do you…know what a refrigerator is?”
He shook his head, blinking at you.
“It keep food cold. This one also has a freezer, which—”
“Freezes things?” He guessed, looking pleased.
You nodded. “Yeah. Oh, good, you didn’t bring the cabinets.”
“Cabinets?”
“Wooden boxes attached to walls.”
“No, they were much attached to the den, so I removed their contents, but left the wood. You have a strange way of organizing your hoard, and your den did not seem very secure. I did not realize that humans used magic so much.”
You tilted your head, a little confused. “We…don’t…?”
“But your water goes up pipes?”
“Oh, just because we found a way to use pressure to push the water. But I suppose it would seem like magic. Um, thank you, for retrieving my, um, hoard.” You patted his arm, then noticed the pile of pots, pans, and food. You went over to it, grabbing some seasonings and oil, heading back to the kitchen to cook properly for the first time in a few days.
“You are pleased?” He asked, trailing after you.
“Uh, yeah. Pleased.” You frowned as you measured seasoning by sight, trying to decide if it was too much or too little. You’d organize your kitchen stuff later. Maybe see if he had a chest or something you could use. Or use one of the bookshelves.
“May I keep this?”
You looked back and saw him holding a photo album. “Um…why?”
“It has many likenesses of you, and you smile in them. You must have been more than pleased,” He said, opening it and looking down at the photos.
You stood there, blinking as you gazed at him, remembering his question about whether having your hoard would make you happy. Asking you if you were pleased.
Adorable.
You giggled before you could stop yourself, and his gaze snapped up to your face, eyes getting huge. “Come here and start the fire in the oven.”
He hurried over, opening the door you pointed to and blowing fire into the wood until it caught.
“Thank you, and no, you cannot have that, it is part of my super-special hoard.” You took the album and hugged it to yourself.
He looked disappointed, but nodded. “I see. Best not to fight my treasure over her hoard.”
“Now, about the pile of stuff out there,” You gestured toward the entrance while you waited for the stove to heat up more.
He blinked a few times. “You wish to organize your hoard?”
You nodded. “I don’t think it looks quite right piled in the middle of our living-area. If you can move the big pieces of furniture, I’ll organize the rest.”
He nodded in agreement, looking up to release a puff of smoke so that it wouldn’t go into your face. “Okay, shall I start with the fridge?”
You nodded. “That would be nice, yes.” You graced him with a smile and he suddenly smiled back and you just about died. That was a fantastic smile.
He jogged off and a while later the fridge (plus a couple dents) was pushed through the cave entrance, then he shifted again, coming in and moving it against the cave wall and then plugging it into the strange-looking power-source his mother had apparently given him. It looked like a strange blue box with smooth sides, but the plug seemed to fit right in.
You gave him another smile, nodding when he looked over at you for approval.
His grin came easily, and he almost skipped off.
You started laughing to yourself. You’d thought he was a little strange when you first met him, but this was just…adorable. He was so eager to please you, and you honestly weren’t sure why, but it was very endearing. It made you feel welcome in the cave, not that he hadn’t been welcoming before, he’d made sure you were comfortable and provided everything you needed, but it gave the stone walls in which you lived a certain sort of warmth that the magic lights didn’t provide.
You turned back to the stove and put the pan on the stove to heat the oil.
He grunted behind you and you jumped as a clatter followed, turning to see a bright red, antique baking cabinet.
You looked at Hoseok in surprise. “That’s not part of my hoard.”
He shook his head. “It’s part of mine. But it looked like the wooden boxes in your cooking area so I thought you might want it here. You have many food items. Do you hoard food for winter like squirrels?”
“Um, sort of? Did your mother not…nevermind, she probably summoned her food if she’s a witch.”
He nodded.
“Okay, well, normal humans can’t do that. So, as a collective we sort of gather food and make it last. Ship it all around the world. You don’t get out much, do you?”
“I go flying everyday.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that, you don’t interact with humans much, do you?”
“They hunted us. We don’t want that to start again,” He said, but there was a nervous quality to his tone.
You tilted your head, suppressing a smile. “You’re scared of them.”
“Am not.”
You nodded. “You are. Which story did it? Beowulf? Or St. George and the Dragon? Or was it an Arthurian tale?”
He kicked at the leg of the cabinet with a scowl. “St. George.”
You giggled outright, earning a hurt look from him. “You realize humans honestly think those are just folk tales, right? Legends? Told with awe and wonder but not believed? You could completely pass as human. I mean, you’d get yelled at for smoking in a public place, but most people wouldn’t even notice that you didn’t have a cigarette. They’re oblivious that way.”
“But you’re not?”
“I didn’t say that, I just meant humans as a whole are pretty stupid. Heck, I bet some people saw you flying today and those people are probably already getting called lunatics and drunks, or the kids’ parents are laughing and telling them that they have such vivid imaginations. And there are a lot of publications that write good things about dragons nowadays. Like Eragon, or Dragon Slippers, and so many others that I can’t even think of right now. I’ve got a few in my hoard. I’ll lend them to you.” You turned back to the pan and started carefully adding the meat to the pan. It was strange how easily you switched to referring to your belongings as your hoard.
“Oh…thank you…” He seemed a little flustered.
“Only if you want to, though, I mean, I understand if you don’t. Not everyone likes reading,” You quickly amended, wondering if you’d crossed some sort of line.
“No, no, I just…most dragons don’t share their treasures.”
“Ah, but I’m technically part of your hoard, so technically, my hoard belongs to your hoard, you just have to respect it and my decisions of how to use, share, or not-share my hoard.”
He looked at you blankly, then looked absolutely gobsmacked once it set it. “Wow, you’re really smart. You’re one of the best treasures I’ve ever collected for my hoard.” His gaze shifted to the stove, and you noticed him lick his lips.
“Would you…like to eat with me when I’m done?”
He nodded. “I would very much like that.”
You nodded. “Alright. I’ll call you when the food is ready.”
He nodded and slowly slunk away, as if reluctant but wanting to respect your space.
You loved the way he always referred to you as a treasure, but everything else just seemed to be part of his hoard. You were pretty, and you were his treasure.
You were also his prisoner, but something told you he was a sucker for your smiles and might be worked on. You just needed to get to know him better, and let him get to know you better. You honestly kind of liked it here. It was better than that creaky house you were renting that had been built and decorated in the seventies and never escaped it. He was good for conversation too. Not to mention you actually felt safe, despite being trapped with a dragon, because he had added you to his hoard.
“Y/n?”
“Yes, Hoseok?”
“Um, you can call me Hobi. My family does. And my friends. I just…wanted to tell you that you could as well.”
“Okay, Hobi,” You answered easily. Very cute.
“Okay.”
You smiled when you could tell he was hovering in the doorway. “Did you want to taste test this with me? See if I have the balance of spices right?” You pulled out a smaller piece of the meat and managed to separate it into two pieces.
He was by your side in a hurry, easily opening up like a little chick and taking the piece of meat from the chopsticks you held.
You watched his face for a reaction.
He grinned. “Oh! That’s good!”
You tasted it and nodded, adding a little more pepper. “Very. What kind of meat was that?”
“Cow. My father had some leftover and I’d already had a tasty deer, but I thought you’d like some since he was taking some home to my mother.” He shrugged, eyes on the pan. “How did you think to cook it like this?”
“Well, I only had one pan when I started cooking and I want to wash my pots and pans and stuff before I use those. This seemed like the best option.” You put more meat into the pan, then turned and went to the fridge, grabbing some veggies and such to cut up and have with your meat since you hadn’t had veggies since before you were trapped here. Hoseok didn’t seem to think of anything other than meat.
He was hovering over your shoulder, watching. “Smells…fiery.”
“Peppers. Bell peppers. I’m not really going to cook them, probably just eat them with the some veggie dip,” You shrugged and went back in the fridge to grab the previously chopped veggies and the veggie dip.
He was tasting the peppers already, looking pleased. “Mmm. Nice heat. We should have more of these.”
You nodded. “Well, this is all I have aside from my hot sauce and salsa. Actually, I probably have some habanero sauce. Somewhere.” You shrugged.
He hummed softly.
“Maybe I’ll make something spicy tomorrow.” You shrugged, not looking to him.
He nodded, then suddenly he was very close, his nose booping your cheek before he was gone. Slipping out of the room with a grace you didn’t know a dragon could possess.
You just hoped that one day the sunshine dragon would actually let you see the sun shining again soon.
--
Part 1 ~ Part 3
Masterlist ~ Hoseok Masterpost
#treasured hoard fic#Jung HoSeok#hoseok x reader#dragon!hoseok#reader x hoseok#reader x jhope#bts jhope#jhope#shapeshifter!hoseok#bts x reader#dragon!au
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She-Ra Fluff Bang is here!!!
Intergalactic Humanitarian Aid 101
AO3
There was a shriek from the other room that had Adora leaping to her feet, chair clattering behind her, sword starting to come into existence in her hand. The civilian administrators and diplomats around her all take involuntary steps back as her eyes start to glow. Energy crackles in the air around her as the magic of She-Ra starts to surface.
That noise was most definitely Bow. She’d spent too much time, too many dangerous missions with him to not recognize it. And no matter how much diplomacy Queen Glimmer and the rest of the Princess Alliance had put into laying the groundwork for this mission, if anything, anything, happened to her friends, Adora would not hesitate to bring the whole planet down. She’s halfway out the door, when there’s a follow up shriek, though this time, there are words that she can make out.
“Oh my gosh Catra!” Again, Bow’s voice. And now Adora’s sprinting, the words to fully summon She-Ra’s magic on the tip of her tongue. Bow being in danger is bad enough, but he can at least handle himself through most non-magical threats (and quite a few magical ones as well). Something threatening both her best friend and her girlfriend, enough that Bow is crying out for Catra? Whatever it is, it had better prepare to face her wrath. The people behind her can only stare as she goes charging out.
“Bow! Catra! Hold on!” Adora yells, skidding around a bend in the hallway. She knows where they are. Unless whatever it is has tried to kidnap them, her team is still in the loading bay. They’re here delivering medicine! And food! This was supposed to be a peaceful mission! The planet they’re visiting has been nearly destroyed by Horde Prime and they’re here to help rebuild. Diplomacy! Peace treaties! Humanitarian aid! All that stuff that Glimmer and surprisingly Catra are really good at! Who would try to ambush them?
She makes it to the door to the loading bay, currently half open. Adora kicks it all the way open with enough force for the knob to shatter upon contact with the wall. She raises the now fully-formed sword above her head and begins to speak.
“For the honor of Gray- wait what?”
For as much combat training as she has, and as she would like to be able to process the scene in front of her, Adora’s brain comes crashing to a halt.
“Adora! Tell him to stop laughing at me!” Catra cries in indignation.
“But you’re just too,” Bow pauses, and instead of actually describing Catra, settles for the squeal he reserves for puppies trying to walk and bouncing off each other and babies trying to have conversations despite not being able to do more than babble
“I am not!”
“Yes you are!”
“No! I’m not!”
“You totally are!”
“Adora! Make him stop!”
“Adora! Just look at her!”
Adora manages to process and act upon Bow’s last statement. Lowering her hand and releasing her magic, she finally is able to focus on and process the scene in the loading bay.
Most of the boxes of supplies have been emptied and moved to wherever the locals want them. A few are still sitting in the bay of Mara’s ship, which is still docked exactly as it was two hours ago when she left for the meeting and Bow and Catra started working with the dock crew to offload.
The local crew is not presently anywhere to be seen. Moving supplies, probably. Not kidnapping her team, definitely. Bow has collapsed to the ground, half-sitting and half-falling over, staring at Catra with massive eyes. His hands are covering his mouth, like he’s trying to contain his laughter. He’s only half succeeding. Catra is sitting. Squatting, actually.
No, Adora thinks to herself. Half-squatting, half sitting. Squitting? Sauting?
It takes her doing a full double-take to realize that Catra is sit/squatting in an empty crate. No wonder she’s in such an awkward position, Adora adds to her previous train of thought. She’s trying to cram her body into a space maybe a quarter of what she would need to succeed.
“Catra?” Her voice comes out a little strangled. “What, um, what’re you doing?” Catra glares at Adora, eyes filled with even more indignation than her voice had held moments before.
“Well obviously I’m, um, I’m trying to, um,” Catra peters out as she looks down at the box she has jammed her feet and hands into. She tilts her head and wiggles one of her arms.
“You don’t know, do you?”
“No! I don’t! Okay? There was an empty box and I needed to sit in it!” She stops moving her arm and tries to sit back with mixed results.
Bow giggles. “And you’re just so cute in there!”
“I am not cute! I’m vicious! And terrifying! I was a Force Captain in the Horde and I was a Colonel in the Brightmoon Armed Forces and now I’m a renowned diplomat who people recognize across the universe! I am not cute!”
Adora glances at Bow, who has not stopped fawning over her girlfriend. It also appears he did not pay attention to a single word Catra said.
“Catra, you know I love you, right?” Adora asks, eyes not leaving Bow.
“Of course I know that! Now tell Bow to stop making that face at me!”
“And I’ll stand with you through anything life may throw at us? You know this, right?”
“Yes!” Catra groans out. “I love you too, Adora!” Despite the rage in her voice, Adora can’t help but smile. Catra always means it when she tells Adora she loves her. “Now get Bow to stop!”
“I’m glad you understand how much I love you. But, um, you are totally adorable right now. Like, a new level of adorable I didn’t think you could reach.”
“You too?” Catra shouts this time, betrayal written in every feature. She begins rocking the crate back and forth ”How could you? I trusted you Adora! I swear, when I get out, I’m going to come for you!” Adora coughs to cover a laugh. Bow perks up.
“When you get out?” he asks. “Are you- no! You’re totally stuck!”
“I am not!” Catra cries.
“Oh my gosh, you’re stuck!” Adora whispers through her hands, which are now covering her mouth in the same adorably surprised manner Bow’s were when she walked in. “You tried to sit in the crate and now you’re stuck!”
The crate topples over, Catra falling with it. No one speaks for a few seconds. Adora is about to ask Catra if she needs help, when Catra sighs.
“Okay, maybe I’m a little stuck.” Bow squeals again. Catra hisses at him, and then turns her head to Adora. “Can you, maybe, possibly, help get me out?”
“Of course! Just, um, Bow? Do you have a camera on you?” Adora asks, glancing over to where Bow has practically melted into a puddle. Catra’s eyes go wide.
“No! No no no no no! You do not get proof of this! No one else shall ever hear of this!” Catra resumes her squirming, but her luck hasn’t changed. Bow manages to stand up and reaches into his pocket. “Bow! Don’t you dare!”
“I love you Catra, but I’m with Adora on this,” Bow whispers from behind the camera. Adora can see the effort it’s taking for him to not go and start cooing over her girlfriend again. “How about this? I won’t show anyone these photos until your wedding?”
“No! You never get to show anyone these photos! This never happened! Adora! Make him stop!”
“Our wedding?” Adora asks.
“Not the important part, Adora! Ugh! Stupid box! Release me!”
“Glimmer and I have a whole album of embarrassing photos that we’re gonna show.” Bow doesn’t even look up from his camera. “Scorpia’s even thrown a few in that she found of the two of you when you were younger. Evidently your teammates in the Horde had, um, blackmail material, as she put it,” Bow finishes and starts looking over the pictures.
“Hey! Those photos also don’t exist. Just like there will be no proof of this. Now Adora! Can you please help me get out?”
“Of course, love. Um, okay, here.” Adora scrunches her face up in concentration, and then she’s holding a golden crowbar with a slight glow to it. “Hold still.”
~~~
Catra slowly closes the door after Adora leaves, the concerned officials following after her. They’d been standing just outside in the hallway the whole time, but hadn’t said anything. Evidently they were just as confused as Adora had been.
The door doesn’t line up with the frame, so Catra pokes her head out into the hallway quickly. After confirming that Adora is far enough away, she turns back into the loading bay and stalks right up to Bow.
“You!” Her whispered shout is accentuated by a single finger pointing right at Bow’s nose, maybe an inch off of contact. “You almost just ruined it!”
“What? The photos? If it really means that much, I’ll delete-”
“Not that, Bow,” Despite being the only two people in the large room, Catra glances around and leans in close. “I haven’t proposed yet!” she whispers.
“You haven’t-”
“No!” She’s back to full volume now, arms thrown up in the air. “We’re having a picnic the night after we get back from this, and I’ve got this whole thing planned.”
“Wait, but, she’s wearing your pin today-”
“Bow,” Catra pauses and pinches her nose. “Bow, listen. I love Adora, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, but she can be totally oblivious. Pretty much every day, she ends up wearing something of mine entirely by accident.”
“Maybe she thinks you’re already engaged.” Bow steps away from Catra, who upon realizing how close to his face she was, stumbles back a few steps as well.
“Well I haven’t proposed! And I don’t think she has. I would know if she had, probably. Right? No! Unimportant! The pin’s not the engagement gift, it’s that cuff you and Glimmer helped me pick out.”
“I know, I know. But at least she didn’t get stuck on that for too long, right?”
“Yeah. I should be fine. She doesn’t know, right? It’ll be fine. Everything will be just fine. Well, um, I guess we better finish unloading.” Catra turns back towards Mara’s ship and begins to climb back inside.
“And hey, Catra,” Bow calls after her, following into the bowels of the ship. “Look on the bright side! I sent the pictures back to Glimmer, and she’s already put them in the slideshow we’re making! Everyone you two invite is gonna get to see!”
“Ugh! I am so going to end you!” Catra shouts from deeper in the ship. Bow can’t help but smile at the empty threat.
#she-ra#catradora#she-ra fluff bang#shera fluff bang#she-ra fluff bang 2020#adora#catra#bow#spop#spop fluff bang
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Hello, Sara. My name is Claire and I am also a huge fan of Kalafina. In the light of their disband (I dont wanna use this word this makes me sad :( ), I still listen their music every single day. With all my Kalafina enthusiasm, your detail information about Kalafina was really helpful and cleared few things up in my mind. While I have been reading your posts, there are a lot of your thoughts and feelings toward Kalafina that I agree with. So I do appreciate your effort and kindness.
Okay, this is my first time I am using tumblr. didnt know they have limited number of words. So my question is that I know you posted that why Yuki Kajiura left Space Craft due the change of her manager if I remember correctly. And the manager did not allow Kajiura to make music in her own preferences. Do you think this intervention affected Kajiura’s work afterwards. Because when far on the water was released, I thought the way she composes music was a lot different than before.
Hello Claire!
Yes, disbandment does sound very final so it’s really not a word I enjoy hearing in relation to Kalafina. However, I understand why Space Craft decided to use that term. It was time for them to make a clear cut so they could move forward.
No matter what, I am positive that one day they will stand on stage together (even if it is just for a single reunion-live). It will probably take years but it’s definitely going to happen.
Just like you I still listen to Kalafina and their solo projects regularly. I know some people find it painful to relive the old days but I personally find nothing but joy diving into Kalafina’s world again and again.
I am really glad my posts have been helpful. After all, spreading Kalafina-love is the sole purpose of this blog.
Yeah, sorry, Tumblr has quite a lot of character-limits when it comes to asks/messages/replies. Unlike many other social media platforms, Tumblr has not been designed with a focus on interaction (which is probably one of the reasons I chose to create my blog here XD).
Yes, Yuki’s long-time manager Mori ended up leaving Space Craft which in turn led to Yuki ending her contract as well. He had always given her some measure of free rein to do what she wanted. Generally speaking they have always been pretty close. In many of her old and new interviews Yuki talks a lot about wanting to have full control over what she creates. Which is why she was super excited to get the Kalafina project for Kara no Kyoukai. Space Craft put their faith in her and as we know, Yuki spun them gold. That’s not to say that she had control over everything. Creatively speaking, yes, I think she was allowed to make whatever she felt was best. However, the concept of Kalafina as we know them is almost entirely Space Craft’s brainchild. Yuki never meant to form a group with steady members and she definitely did not intend for the singers themselves to have so much spotlight. Let’s not forget, for Yuki, vocalists are really nothing more than human instruments. That’s totally fine of course but Space Craft knew that Kalafina wouldn’t have had a long life expectancy if things had gone according to Yuki’s vision. As a business-minded agency they naturally decided to use typical idol marketing strategies to promote Kalafina. It started with little things but gradually Kalafina became more and more “commercial” if you will. Don’t get me wrong, that’s not a bad thing. Good music alone unfortunately isn’t enough to survive in the Japanese music industry, you have to cater to the masses. And that’s what they did. Endless photo-heavy merch, lots of mainstream anime tie-ins, more elaborate stage productions, tons of appearances in popular events/TV programs etc…It’s those things that made their fanbase grow considerably which eventually led to them being able to perform THREE times at Nippon Budokan.
So yeah, what I am trying to say is that while Yuki gradually lost control over Kalafina as a “product” I don’t believe she ever yielded an inch when it came to her creative process. All the music she wrote was written because she wanted to write it, I am convinced of that. She doesn’t strike me as the type of person to phone in her work. Yes, her style has undergone some changes throughout the years (which weren’t always met with appreciation by fans) but for the most part I would say she has stayed faithful to her unique style (which most gifted composers do).
When “far on the water” was produced and released back in 2015 Mori was still Yuki’s manager and everything was perfectly fine. Any changes you might have noticed were absolutely on purpose. No one made Yuki do anything or guided her in a particular direction. This album is entirely her own vision and she loved making it, she has talked a lot about that in various interviews. She was also brimming over with further ideas for a new album which she was eager to produce (but alas, that never happened).
Things didn’t start falling apart until early 2017 when Mori left Space Craft (things didn’t seem to be perfectly peachy in late 2016 either but that’s reaching a bit too far). The changes from then onwards were very visible. Mori stopped being featured in the FictionJunction Club newsletters, the launch of Kalafina’s very own fan club Harmony was announced, all sorts of YK Lives went on hiatus, Kalafina’s 6th studio album which technically would have been due that year was never made, all focus went into increasing Kalafina’s live activities. I cannot say if at that point everyone had already predicted Kalafina’s fate and Space Craft were just milking the cow for all it’s worth or if that was a genuine effort to keep Kalafina alive as long as possible. I am leaning towards something in the middle of these two options. I think everyone involved had hoped for a better ending (or rather - no ending at all) but along the way (autumn 2017 I would say) it became clear to them that it wouldn’t work out.
I never outright said that the new management didn’t allow Yuki to do her own thing. Honestly, I have no idea if whoever replaced Mori was planning to take control of Yuki’s music. I suspect however that the new management might have wanted to take more of a lead which definitely would have put off Yuki… While tabloid articles have talked about creative differences between Yuki and the new manager, Yuki herself has never confirmed that that was the reason for her leaving (not that she ever would even if it were true). Yuki did however confirm in one of her FictionJunction Station newsletters that she no longer felt comfortable going on tour since she didn’t have the people around that she could trust. Maybe for a similar reason she didn’t feel like making a new Kalafina album which is why they had to focus so heavily on live activities that year.We are all creatures of habit. Yuki seems to only feel comfortable with Mori around. That’s fine. The only logical thing to do for her was follow his lead and leave Space Craft. Unfortunately she couldn’t take Kalafina with her so they ended up being collateral damage…*sighs*
And here we have another essay, sorry about that. it wasn’t my intention to write so much. My point is that I believe that in her time with Space Craft nothing/no one affected Yuki’s creative work, from the very first song “oblivious” right up until “Tombo” all songs are 100% Yuki and they were written/composed with much love, effort and dedication. Fans may not like everything she has created throughout the years but that’s just how life works. They have a hard time computing the fact that their favourite composer might have changed to an extent that they can’t appreciate anymore or that they themselves have developed different preferences. In such cases fans are eager to find someone to blame for that. Since they would rather not blame their idol Yuki they resort to blaming Space Craft. Space Craft have certainly done a lot of shitty stuff throughout the years but it would never cross my mind to make them responsible for Yuki’s music because that has always been under her control.
Really, you shouldn’t be blaming anyone. These things happen, people change, people fall out of love with something. It’s easy to complain and lament the old days but what you have to do is just accept it, move forward and find something else.
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Allure - Part 4
You can read all previous chapters here.
[Jay Park, Sik-K, H1GHRMUSIC]
You couldn’t remember what happened in between those few seconds, but when you got back to your senses you found your lips attached to his. Your arms wrapped around his neck. Your body pressed against his. Jay’s hands had found their way underneath your top and you slowly began to unbutton his shirt.
“Not here,” he whispered against your lips- it was more of a low groan. He leaned his forehead against yours, panting heavily. When you looked into his eyes, his expression was intense, almost threatening. Your hand was still on his chest and he didn’t let go of your hips. Shutting your eyes closed, you tried to sort your thoughts and process what had just happened in a matter of seconds.
"I'm sorry..." you mumbled under your breath as you finally pulled your hands back. You immediately diverted your gaze away from him and bit on your lips, cursing at yourself. However, Jay’s eyes never left yours, the same way his hands remained on your waist.
“What for?” He arched one of his brows and let out a chuckle. His heart was racing like crazy inside of his chest and he tried his best to calm himself down, but it didn’t seem to be working at all. The kiss just kept replaying in his head. He finally was able to taste the sweet lips he had been longing for the whole night. He finally was able to let his hands roam the body he couldn’t keep his eyes off.
“Kissing you.”
“Well, I’m not really offended by that,” he laughed. “If you want, you can do it again,” he gave you a wink as the mischievous grin on his lips grew wider. You rolled your eyes at him and punched his arm in retaliation.
“I promised Minsik I wouldn’t hook up with you,” you said straight forward and you could see his pupils dilate in surprise by your blunt words.
“Who said I wanted to hook up with you?”
“Well…I have boobs,” you said matter of factly, earning a chuckle from him.
“Fair enough,” he admitted defeat. “You talked to Minsik about me?” He then questioned with a smirk planted on his face and you could have slapped yourself for your earlier comment.
“There’s obviously some… attraction between us…” You struggled to find words to describe whatever there was between you and Jay.
“If hooking up is off the table, how about dating then?”
Your eyes widened and you looked up at him. The playfulness on his face was gone and his expression seemed to be sincere.
Right in this moment, Minsik who had spotted you in the crowd approached the two of you. When Jay saw him, he immediately let go off your waist, and Minsik was oblivious about what had just happened between his two friends.
“Zoeeee!” He called your name and threw his arms around you.
“I think I need to throw up,” he then said and his expression changed from cheerful to dead serious.
“Dude, you’re not getting into my car like this!” You inspected him from head to toe. He was a mess. A bigger mess than you had expected.
“Just kiddinggg. Gotcha!” He laughed crazily.
“Okay, maybe not.” Covering his mouth with his hand, Minsik sped into the direction of the restroom which was only a couple of steps away. You wanted to follow him to check on him, but Jay stopped you by grabbing your arm which made you jerk backwards. Your eyes wandered to him and you looked at him appalled. His touch made your entire body heat up and your heart was pounding against your chest, as though it was about to jump out.
Startled by your reaction, he quickly pulled his hand back.
“You don’t wanna go in there. It’s the men’s room,” he then pointed to the black figurine on the door of the bathroom.
“Ohh…” You let out an awkward chuckle and bit down on your bottom lip while shifting in your position.
“I’ll go look after him,” he said and disappeared behind the door.
~*~
It took quite a while until Jay and Minsik came out of the restroom again. Minsik looked like a complete mess. He really overestimated himself today and crossed his limits. You had experienced every single of his drunken states and you were used to his drunken antics by now, but he rarely threw up.
Jay had helped you with carrying him to your car. He placed him down onto the passenger seat and closed the door carefully.
“Thank you,” you bowed your head at Jay. He furrowed his eyebrows together, surprised by your sudden politeness, as though you two hadn’t been all over each other just a few minutes ago.
“Zoe-” His voice was firm, yet tender.
“I’ll be going then,” you hurriedly interjected and made your way to the other side of your car. The look in his eyes was different from before. The hunger and eagerness had completely disappeared. Instead his eyes softened and there was a trace of guilt flickering in his brown eyes. His warm gaze made you feel uncomfortable.
“What hap—“
“I was out of line. Sorry.” You gave him a short awkward wave, before entering your car.
~*~
It would have been a lie to say you didn’t feel awkward around Jay ever since that night. You felt extremely awkward and the worst part was that you couldn’t even avoid him, like you would usually do whenever you were faced with a difficult situation. He was still your client and you still had to give him regular updates on the status of his café, though you did try your best not to meet with him in person.
You arranged everything over the phone and if you had to be on site to check the progress, you sent your team members to the café with the excuse that you were too busy. Luckily, it wasn’t just an excuse, but your reality. After your successful presentation, you were able to land the deal for your company and now you were in charge of the project. Since it was a large-scale project, it occupied most of your time, sleep, and social life.
But of course, you couldn’t avoid him forever. Especially not if you shared the same circle of friends. You wanted to decline so badly when Minsik invited you to one of his labelmates’ album showcase, but you actually missed your friend. You hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time with him or the boys lately; so you really wanted to see them again and you needed to destress from work. You eventually accepted the fact that avoiding Jay wouldn’t solve the problem. The only choice you had was to face it head on and to be honest with yourself. Yes, you felt extremely attracted to him and it had been a while since you last had sex, but you weren’t an animal, were you? You should be able to control your desires and emotions. Eventually you agreed to join them, fully aware that you would bump into Jay there.
When you arrived at the venue, it wasn’t that packed yet because there were still thirty minutes left until the show. However, the room gradually filled with people as time passed. You looked for Minsik, but you were too small to actually see anything. You also didn’t know what he was wearing; so you weren’t sure what to look out for either.
You saw Jay, though. It was odd, how you always seemed to find him among all the people. He wasn’t even that tall nor was he wearing anything extraordinary that would stick out from the rest, but your eyes always found him.
Jay was there with a girl. They were laughing together and she touched his arm with her hand. Upon seeing them together, you were overwhelmed with mixed feelings. You couldn’t clearly identify what you were feeling exactly. Among them was confusion, a hint of jealousy, as well as slight disappointment. However, above all you felt relieved. You felt extremely relieved, as though a heavy weight was lifted off your chest. You were no longer in the danger zone. You didn’t have to be cautious around him anymore. If he was seeing someone, there was nothing to worry about.
Shortly after the girl left, Jay turned around. He spotted you immediately and he released a smile. You smiled back at him and bowed your head slightly, before letting your eyes trail across the venue that was slowly getting packed in search of your friends.
You thought acknowledging each other’s present would be enough. There wasn’t any need to exchange awkward greetings. You hoped it would be sufficient and that Jay would leave it at that, but it seemed as if he had something different in mind as he walked over to you.
“Dammit,” you cursed under your breath and pressed your lips together as you saw him approaching you.
"She's not my girlfriend." That was the first thing he said to you. Not even a “hello” or anything of that kind.
You were dumbfounded by his remark since it was the last thing you expected him to say.
"I didn’t ask,” you then let out a brief chuckle.
"Just in case you were curious,” he replied simply and flashed a boyish grin at you.
"I wasn't," you shook your head.
"Really? Not at all?" Jay inspected you carefully as he lifted up one his eyebrows.
”Why would I be? You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly.
“Hmm…I don’t know…maybe because you kissed me and tried to undress me in the middle of a club?” He said in such a casual tone, likhe could be talking about the weather. A smirk appeared on his face and he looked at you with challenging eyes. Your body momentarily froze, totally caught off guard by his bluntness.
“It was just a kiss. Doesn’t mean I want to marry you,” you responded with a chuckle, trying your hardest to hide your astonishment.
“What does it mean then?” He cocked up his brows.
“You’re eye-fucking each other again.” Your little moment with Jay was interrupted by Minsik who raised his eyebrows at you suspiciously, before letting out a laugh.
You couldn’t have been any more relieved to see your friend right in this moment. Just a second longer and the whole conversation would have taken the wrong direction.
You immediately turned away from Jay, not being able to stand his gaze any longer and greeted your friend with a warm hug. As you were facing Minsik now, your eyes widened with worry and you brushed your fingertips against the little scar on his forehead right above his left eye.
“What the hell happened?” You gave him a weird look.
“I got into a fight,” he shrugged his shoulders.
“You did what?”
“More like he walked against a street lamp when he was wasted as fuck,” Hwimin joined the conversation, not hesitating a moment to expose him.
“Dude! The story with the fight sounds way more exciting!” Minsik rolled his eyes.
“Serves you right,” you laughed and gave him a light flick on his head with your fingers. “You wouldn’t stand a chance in hell in a real fight.”
“I’m a pretty good fighter!” He objected.
“Yeah on Playstation,” Hwimin teased him.
“Not even on Playstation,” you added playfully.
“Why are you ganging up on me?” He said in a whiny tone his eyes traveling back and forth his two closest friends.
~*~
You quickly jotted their addresses down onto a little piece of paper and handed it to the taxi driver, before closing the door of the vehicle. Minsik who was sitting on the passenger’s seat gave you a happy wave, flashing his teeth at you. You waved back at him and your eyes wandered to the backseat. You chuckled to yourself when you saw Hwimin bugging both Gyujeong and Joonwon with his cute act. Gyujeon tried to pushed him away annoyed, but he always bounced right back with a huge grin on his lips.
As the taxi drove away, you sighed in relief. The worst part of the night was done. Usually, it would take you a whole lot more effort to get them all into the cab. They would be running all over the place, and when you found one, one would have disappeared. It was like taking care of little children.
Tonight you managed to gather them rather quickly, thanks to Jay’s help. Strangely enough, he was the only sober one tonight. You had heard endless stories about his drunken antics and you thought you would be experiencing it tonight, but he didn’t touch a glass. His reasoning was that he had an important meeting the next day and his manager was keeping tabs on him.
“Need a ride home?” Jay asked you with a concerned expression planted on his face. You had quite a few drinks yourself tonight and you were in no condition to drive, however, you weren’t drunk to the point of insanity either. Your brain still worked pretty fine and your vision was still clear.
You turned around to face him and rested your eyes on him.
“No,” you replied shortly.
Jay seemed to be flustered by your answer as his brows quirked up.
“Are you avoiding me?”
“No,” you shook your head immediately, giving him the same one-syllable reply again.
“You’re not avoiding me, but you’d rather take a cab at night by yourself and probably be overcharged, instead of being in a car with me?” He said with a sarcastic undertone.
“Exactly,” you flashed an awkward grin at him.
“Zoe…”
“Fine. I’m avoiding you,” you admitted the obvious, biting on your bottom lip.
“Why?” His voice softened as he looked at you.
“Because it’s weird being around you,” you whispered, before letting out a long breath. The expression on his face changed within seconds. It looked like your words had rattled him.
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“How can it not be weird? I kissed you. That was totally inappropriate and unprofessional,” you mumbled under your breath and swallowed. This was the conversation you were trying so hard to escape from. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but he left you no choice
“We can pretend it never happened, if you want.” Jay offered. He didn’t want to act like the kiss never happened. He didn’t want to pretend that he didn’t feel attracted to you because he did. He was totally captivated by you and he wanted to give it a shot and see where this would lead to. But, he couldn’t be selfish- not when he saw how conflicted you were. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable around him.
“I don’t think that would work…”
“Why not?”
You glanced at him briefly and then you shook your head violently.
“Because I feel way too attracted to you…” You pressed your lips together, turning your head away from him. You brought your hands to your face and buried your face in your palms. This couldn’t get anymore embarrassing, could it? Why were you so honest with him? Was it the alcohol?
Jay’s eyes widened at you as his lips curled into a little smile. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest aggressively, almost as if it was about to jump out. This was probably the first time a girl had ever taken the first step. Usually it would be him chasing the girl and the girl playing hard to get, but this was refreshingly new to him and your honesty and boldness made him feel drawn to you even more if that was even possible. He was intrigued.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you mumbled.
“How am I looking at you?” He chuckled.
“Right there. That smile. Stop it,” you told him, before diverting your eyes away from him again.
“You’re cute,” his lips curved upwards and his eyes softened. The sight of it made your heart melt, but the exhilarating emotions he made you feel didn’t last for long. They were soon weighed down by your guilty conscience. The conversation shouldn’t have taken this turn. You weren’t supposed to feel this way.
“I should go home.”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“Jay, are you not listening? You. Me. Car. Sex. Not a good idea.”
Jay’s jaw dropped open at your words and he looked at you with dilated pupils. Did you really just admit that you want to have sex with him? He examined your face. The blush on your face and your glassy red eyes made him realize you were probably more wasted that you appeared to be.
“Zoe…you’re drunk.”
“I know. That’s why you can’t be the one driving me home. I know myself. I will ask you to come upstairs and things will get complicated.”
“I didn’t drink. I’m completely sober. I won’t take advantage of you.”
“Really?” Your voice was filled with sarcasm. With your intoxication taking control of your actions, you stepped closer and leaned forward, capturing his lips, totally catching him off guard. As your lips met, he gently lay his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, as if he never wanted to let go off you again.
You broke the kiss off abruptly, throwing him a taunting glare.
“See? You can’t even resist a kiss. And you’re saying you wouldn’t take me if I threw myself at you?”
Jay thought he would be able to resist you. He thought he would be able to control himself, but he completely misjudged the situation.
Wow...it took me a while to update this one, but I guess I’m back on track with this series. After my hiatus of course, this is the last update/scenario for the next two weeks (for real haha). I just wanted to give you guys a gift since I’ve been neglecting this series and I’ve received so many messages about it. Thank you for bearing with me and I hope this chapter was worth the wait :) Let me know what you think!
#jay park#jay park scenarios#aomg scenarios#khh scenarios#khiphop scenarios#khh imagines#jay park imagines#finished this in one of my study breaks#might contain more errors than usual#feedback is appreciated#allure
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My Top 20 Albums of All Time
Before The Storm, part 1 of 2
A top 20? (that should be, part one of a top twenty, so a top ten? yeah?)
Wow, how original.
I can practically hear your anguished cries.
Maybe so.
“There certainly haven’t been approximately 417.803 of those published since last Friday”
But sit down and strap in. This one’s a doozy.
Before we start, let me add that you don’t have to love these albums as much as I do, but trust me, arrogant as this sounds, you’re going to want to check them out.
To that you’re obviously crying out “You don’t know me!”
It doesn’t matter. Don’t have to.
These albums changed my life, so without further ado, lets get started. Are you sitting comfortably?
The Final (ish) Countdown (Albums 20-11)
20 – Tapestry – Carole King (1971)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQXY8zwQgmc
It’s a beauty
Let’s start as we mean to go on.
Presented here is one of the first songs I ever remember ‘freaking out’ to. To clarify, I mean that amazing, goosebumps inducing effect that music can have on you.
The ‘whoa’ moment, if you will.
That song is the immortal Natural Woman from this seminal album. It’s also a family favourite. Maybe we’ll never know if it was written for one James Taylor (who might make an appearance later on) but frankly, who cares. This is a beautiful record.
19 – Curtain Call: The Hits – Eminem (2005)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Yhyp-_hX2s
Eminem is angry about…everything
Blimey. A Rap album as early as this?
Guess I’m full of surprises.
I’m no Eminem ‘fan’, but this one is special. There’s a swagger to this album that never fails to make me feel a thousand feet tall. Slim Shady exploded onto the scene with classic after satirical classic. Lose Yourself is outstanding, as is the insanity and genuine comedy of My Name Is. I think we all know what his name is now. Mic drop.
18 – A/B – Kaleo (2016)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-7IHOXkiV8
People from Iceland frighten me
This one is by far the youngest album on our list. But if I had to describe the debut for Kaleo, an imposing bunch of vikings (er, Icelanders) led by the incredibly talented Jökull Júlíusson (ridiculous name alert) in a few words, ‘ass kicking masterpiece’ comes to mind.
The band have gone from strength to strength since they dropped this monster in June 2016, thanks in large part to the lead single from A/B, Way Down We Go. It’s hauntingly beautiful and stays with you long after its finished. Another highlight is the albums opening track, No Good, which is a rip roaring way for the band to say hello. It’s absolutely filthy, but oh so fantastic.
17 – The Cult – Pure Cult (The Singles) 1984-1985) – 2000
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCOSPtyZAPA
Drum Fill Drum Fill Drum FILLLLLL
An absolute riot of an album.
It’s frankly ludicrous for a band to release a singles anthology that lasts for 77 bloody minutes, but The Cult are that good.
Prick up your ears for Rain and She Sells Sanctuary, which are definite stand outs. Rain batters against your eardrums with screaming guitars, while Sanctuary shifts the focus onto the drums. The song only contains a handful of lyrics, but one listen to the drum fill before the final chorus will make you understand why. Some songs speak for themselves.
16 – Greatest Hits – Simon And Garfunkel – 1972
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-JQ1q-13Ek
This one has stayed with me because I still remember the first listen to this album.
I was sat in my Grandma’s lounge. Family have always played a part in the albums I’ve carried into adulthood. It didn’t take me long to learn why she loves these two. This album will make you cry, make you cheer and everything in-between.
The best albums tell stories, and ones told by this ’72 collection like The Boxer and Bridge Over Troubled Water will live for a very long time.
Gorgeous stuff.
15 – Where The Light Is, John Mayer Live in LA – 2008
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7K2DQ8XBRbU
Smooooooooth Mr Mayer
The following descriptions accurately describe Mr John Mayer;
Guitar Prodigy
Remarkable Songwriter
Harmonic Whizkid
Arrogant Arsehole
Okay, okay. I’ll explain why.
Mayer’s ego may be bigger than his stacked discography, but sadly it’s for a very good reason. The man is a modern musical artist, and doesn’t he know it.
But this album makes it okay, and here’s why.
Mayer played a one off sold out show in the Nokia Theatre in his home town of LA back in ’08, playing hits straight out of his strange little head to a sea of adoring fans.
It was an elegant affair, with Mayer and his touring band taking centre stage for almost three hours worth of jazz and blues. Indeed the sense of rhythm, melody and especially harmony on hits like Daughters, In Your Atmosphere and Gravity (which Johnny boy performs here with a full gospel choir) is absolutely stunning. A personal highlight is his incredible arrangement of Tom Petty’s Free Fallin’(RIP Tom we love you), which leaves me speechless every single time. Overalll Mayer offers a soaring and beautiful album which is perhaps the most intimate and honest thing he’s ever written.
And remember, all thats coming from the dude that wrote Your Body is a Wonderland. Damn smooth.
14 – Vessel – Twenty One Pilots – 2013
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=szp9x1ZlZn4
Kick Some Ass lads
Twenty One Pilots needed something big to break onto the international scene. The rock duo had already amassed a huge following in the good old US of A, but Europe was a different beast. And with Vessel they knocked it out of the park.
Hits from this album introduced Tyler Joseph and Josh Dunn to the world. Joseph flip flops between sonorous masterclasses and rapping like a demon while Dunn channels the greats behind the kit. Copeland, Moon, Rich. The gang’s all here, and its as if they’re controlling Dunn’s arms and telling his brain what to do like the plot from a terrible 80s horror movie.
It is indeed a rip rollicking tour de force of an album. Migrane will make you think, Guns for Hands (bloody ridiculous song title) will make you groove, and my personal favourite here, Trees, will make you grit your teeth and maybe even shed a few tears, an entire spectrum of feelings is contained to 12 songs.
How many other bands can do that?
Put simply, check this one out. It’s remarkable.
13 – Celebrity Skin – Hole – 1998
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v0CYB5V9e64
Tears you to pieces
Lets summarise the short lived story of Hole, shall we?
In equal parts the tortured love child of Courtney Love and Courtney Love’s grief over the terrible loss of Kurt Cobain, Hole created a very special album.
Love and Cobain were of course famously writing countless songs together before he died, and many of them would, in one way or another, make up the famous track list offered here. Heartbreak can often create strangely beautiful things, and Celebrity Skin is the epitome of that.
From the first second you can feel Love’s fury at society. Thats why it works, because its as relevant to hate the world today as it was back in ’98. To that end, honestly the album’s title track is, in a word, aggressive. Listening to it really puts you into her head. It’s as if someone took a confetti cannon, filled it with that typical 90s neon-soaked angst and rage and then fired it point blank into your face.
CAN YOU FEEL IT YET?
Okay calm down.
Don’t know what came over me there.
But then come back to earth and pair track one with the other clear stand out, Malibu. This song is effortlessly haunting and heartbreakingly beautiful. The listener is oblivious to what the lyrics warn them of running away from, but we somehow know we just need to listen to the warning. Perhaps this song was written for Kurt and he will tragically never know, but we’ll know and this song, indeed this album, will tear you apart and stay with you forever.
12 – What’s The Story Morning Glory – Oasis – 1995
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tI-5uv4wryI
Liam Gallagher looks like he’s wearing handcuffs every time he sings. Don’t believe me? Watch and learn
Oasis have been a part of my life for pretty much as long as I can remember.
We had them on perpetually when I was growing up, and I remember the first time my Dad introduced me to the standout song on this album full of standout songs, Champagne Supernova.
“Kid!”
“Yeah?”
“Check out this tune!”
Plays Supernova in our living room
It’s incredible, yes, but there’s only one question I have when the song fades.
“But Dad, what even is a Champagne Supernova?”
“Shut up Will, it’s ironic.”
leaves
One listen was all it took.
While the also classic Heathen Chemistry perhaps hit me more upon first impressions, as I’ve grown up my love for this album has positively skyrocketed. Although I still have a soft spot for Little By Little, one of the first songs I ever learned on guitar.
God these are the useless facts I know you want out of a musical countdown.
What’s The Story is special, though. It’s a special, perfectly Brit-Pop record. For me at least, songs like Some Might Say, She’s Electric and the aforementioned alcoholic death of a star have gotten me through some incredibly tough times. I look fondly back at the album now and remember nights in, up to my neck in GCSE revision with one of those terrible bedside lamps, which made it look like I was doing Algebra in Gollum’s cave. I’d whack on this record and all the stress would go away for a few glorious moments. It was almost fun to work stuff out with Noel Liam and the rest of the lads screaming down my earholes. It somehow made it okay.
Champagne Supernova, though, as you’ve probably guessed, is simply something else. Of course it lasts for seven minutes, but every second is captivating. Its an untouchable song, and an awesome album.
11 – Appetite For Destruction – Guns N Roses – 1987
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gORKiQ0h1ZA
Fuck Yeah
This one is simply the motherfucking king of debut albums.
Guns N Roses redefined sweet rock and roll with this album, and it was the first thing they ever released. Since it was released back in ’87 the album has rocked up (not sorry about the pun) 28 Million album sales. Numbers like that don’t lie. So here’s my take on one of the greatest rock albums of all time.
Standout one is the opening track, Welcome To The Jungle
Literally.
This song, despite being track one, is a dark horse, but I don’t know how much that means when your album is made up of majestic stallions. Guns N Roses collectively smash down your defences and musically kick the shit out of you with outstanding guitar and pounding drums. But don’t worry its all executed so beautifully you’ll probably stand yourself up dust yourself off, say thank you and dive straight back in. Trust me you ain’t seen nothing yet.
We continue with Paradise City. Its safe to say that Axl Rose Slash and company do not pull punches. This is one of the greatest guitar performances of all time. GNR present a sprawling 6 minute journey into madness, and you’re gonna want to be along for the ride. Prick up your ears for the closing solo, which is Slash at his most powerful. Slash is a god among men. Won’t take you long to discover why.
The third, and final (but not final) standout is the immortal Sweet Child O Mine
I’m already playing air guitar just thinking about this one and you are too don’t even lie.
If you were to open a Guns N Roses art museum, in which different songs became famous paintings, then Sweet Child O Mine is the ceiling of the Cistene fucking Chapel. it’s that good. Its many things. What do you want? A story about love? Yep, its there. A Stadium Anthem for the ages? Yeah no worries. A Masterpiece? I damn well think so. In fact thats the perfect description for Appetite for Destruction. Its a flawless album, indeed the spirit of sex drugs rock and roll in a CD case.
*takes breath*
Okay. Pause. Hit pause.
Christ on a bike.
I’ve been rambling for EVER.
Listen hard to these ten, and strap in for part 2
#carole king#eminem#guns n roses#oasis#hole#twenty one pilots#john mayer#kaleo#simon and garfunkel#the cult
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Surprise (Harry Styles x Reader)
A/N: This imagine especially goes for the girls who aren’t or weren’t able to meet the boys. Girls I really feel with you because neither did I met Harry or the other boys. But don’t give your hopes up! Maybe you’ll meet them one day, who knows? And to those people, who already did meet them, please share your experiences with me! I’m dying to know them! Btw, I’m so fucking excited for today! I’ve been waiting for this day since “Sign of the Times” was released and I can’t wait to see him performing again!!! And as Harry would say, All the love and I really hope you enjoy this imagine! I appreciate feedbacks, no matter if they are positive or negative! xo B.
Ever since I was a teenager, my heart was conquered by the most famous boy band in the entire world. Their music has been accompanying me through my puberty stage. They also saved my life and I would be always grateful for that. I was fourteen years old as I started to fancy them. Those times were pretty hard for me. My family was falling apart. My parents decided to divorce and their decision hit me like a brick. I was never the same after this.
So it felt good to listen to their music because it was the only thing that would soothe me during my time of loneliness. I barely talked to my parents, it hurt to see how two persons who used to love each other so dearly ignoring themselves. I needed time to regain my strength and carry on with my live.
So special thanks to One Direction. The biggest boy band in the 21st century. I was glad to get to know them. I still remember my walls being plastered with thousands of posters and pictures. I owned every album and perfume, I still do by the way. One Direction meant more to me than just a boy band. They were my heroes and perfect role models for teenagers nowadays. Also belonging to the 1D fandom was a great honor and pleasure to me and I loved being a part of them so dearly.
And still with my 22 years, I still adored them with my whole heart. Now that they were being in a break, things got strange somehow. I really missed them. I loved all of them but one of them stole my heart from the very first moment I saw him. His wonderful green eyes and his cute dimpled smile were burnt into my head forever. Whenever I saw him in an interview, talking and interacting with the interviewer, my heart skipped a beat and a wide grin made its way up on my lips.
His transformation was fucking remarkable. I mean, you just have to look at him in his X-factor times and compare him with today’s Harry. How did he manage some sort of transformation?! He looks handsome as ever and shit, I would do anything to meet him, even for a second.
Yes, I belonged to the fans who never got the chance to see him or the other boys in real life. And that fact hurt pretty much. Every time I asked myself why I could not just meet them? When I was 15, I wanted to visit their concert but unfortunately I had no money to afford a ticket. I cried for days.
My dearest wish was to be hold by Harry, his arms being wrapped around me into a secured and protective hug, his voice telling me not to cry. But I just could dream of it.
And also with 22 years, I still hadn’t met him. Not yet.
***
“Hey (Y/N), it’s break time!” My best friend called as she entered my office, taking a seat in front of me and placing her feet on my desk. I took a look at the clock. It was exactly 2 PM. I leaned back on my chair, rubbing over my eyes with my hands. After working non-stop for six hours I became really tired. I worked for a designer company in New York and we were about to make a new collections for the summer. So I spent my whole day with drawing and drawing some ideas. And I have to say I liked the most of them.
“Would you please put down your feet from my desk?” I sighed. Then, I opened my cupboard, taking a sandwich out of it. I unwrapped the foil and bit into my delicious sandwich.
My friend and also my co-worker took a sip of her cappuccino. “So (Y/N), any plans for your birthday?” I just roll my eyes at her question. She knew I was too busy to celebrate my birthday this year however she insisted and tried to convince me to do otherwise. She’s been like this for a whole month now.
The closer my birthday came, the more suspicious my friends acted. I was aware that they planned a big surprise for me but I couldn’t tell what. Otherwise, I could always tell what they were planning but this time I was completely oblivious about it.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, babe! We’re going celebrate your birthday like every year.” My friend looked at me with a stern expression on her face.
“(Y/F/N), I’m very busy this year and you know it. I have no time for any celebrations. We have to concentrate on the new collections.”
“But baby, you already work and work without taking any break. You need to cool down a bit! Work isn’t running away.”
I sighed and surrendered because I knew, no matter how much I resist, she wouldn’t leave me alone.
“Fine!” I grumbled, earning an exited screech from her. I held my hands over my ears.
“You won’t be disappointed about your present. I promise!” She told me.
I took my water bottle and drank out of it. However, what my friend said in the next moment made me almost spill out the whole content in my mouth on my drawings.
“What did you just said?” I exclaimed.
She acted like it wasn’t anything excited. But for me it meant the whole world. She looked at me weirdly. “Calm down, babe. I just said that Harry Styles is in town.”
Immediately, my heart beat increased and I felt my cheeks getting warm.
“Woah, (Y/N), you’re trembling!” My friend remarked. “If I knew you would react this way, I wouldn’t have told you.”
“W-where do you know that?” I asked her, trying to keep my voice straight.
“You know I’m watching the news and listening to the radio. I’m not like you who locks herself up in her office and isolates herself from life.” She laughed slightly.
“I’m not isolating myself.”
“Yeah sure.”
“But I don’t think that I’ll meet him even though he’s in New York. I mean he could be anywhere,” I sighed. My friend knew about my heavy crush on Harry Styles. The whole office knew actually. They would catch me how I would talk about him constantly. When he released “Sign of the Times” I couldn’t stop but telling everyone how brilliant this song was. I practically forced them to listen to it. Yeah, since everybody knew they wouldn’t stop teasing me about it.
“You never know, babe. Don’t give your hopes up,” my friend remarked.
“You know I’m never lucky when it comes to my favorite celebrity. Everybody meets him. Everyone but me.”
“You’re thinking to negative, (Y/N). Just look forward on your birthday, okay? We’re going to have so much fun!”
She looked at the clock and saw that our twenty minutes break was almost over. “I’m heading back to my office. I see you around, girl. And do not make a sad face okay? I’m sure one day you’ll meet him.” She offered me a smile before she opened the door and left. Little did I feel that she knew something.
***
My birthday finally arrived. I didn’t feel very excited about that but my friends in the office freaked out for an unknown reason. I received some congrats and lovely hugs from everybody.
“You’re finally 23!” Alyssa, a very cute girl from the office told me, her voice showing a trace of joy.
“Yeah,“ I mumbled. “Finally 23.”
“Okay, girl,” My friend grabbed my shoulders, smiling at me. “You’re not allowed to enter the conference room till tonight. We’ll send somebody to get you, alright?”
“Sure,” I said. After that everybody went back to working.
Hours and hours passed by fast and as someone knocked on my door I just realized that it was already 8 PM. Wow, I really worked that much?
“(Y/N)?” It was Alyssa who opened the door and came in. She is such a lovely and wonderful girl. She is definitely one of my favorite co-workers.
“Hey, Ally!” I greeted her. She clapped her hands.
“Are you ready?”
“I think so,” I said. I was kind of nervous though. Who would know what was waiting for me in the conference room?
Alyssa came towards me and took my hand.
“I have to ask you to close your eyes and only to open them when you’re told, okay?”
I nodded my head and closed my eyes. “Alright.”
Alyssa pushed me slightly forward. “And no cheating!”
“I won’t!” I called.
Alyssa guided me securely and safe to the conference room. I heard her knocking on the hard wooden door. Someone opened it. I could perceive some whispers in the background as I was pushed further into the room. My heart felt like I would explode in my chest.
“Okay, (Y/N)!” I heard my friend. “You can open your eyes now.”
And I did. What I’ve seen took my breath away. The walls around me were decorated so beautifully and balloons were hanging everywhere. There was also a big poster and “Happy birthday to our wonderful (Y/N)” was written on it. They also have removed the desks to the side so the middle of the room could be used as a dance floor. I really wanted to cry. I had such beautiful friends and I was grateful for that.
“Do you like it?” Alyssa asked.
I shook my head in agreement. “Yes, fuck, yes I love it! Thank you so much guys!” I breathed out, struggling with my tears.
“If you already love this,” My friend said. “Then you’ll love your present even more.” I looked at her questioningly.
“Turn around, (Y/N).” She smiled softy.
And as I turned around, it felt like everything around me stopped for a second. My eyes meet with some enchanting green eyes that I longed to see in real life for so many years now. There he stood in front of me and handsome as ever, holding a beautiful red rose in his hand.
I didn’t know how to react, I was utterly shook and very surprised. I was expecting everything but this. I finally met him. My biggest celebrity crush, the king of my world, the key to my heart, the reason for my smile. Harry Styles.
He smiled at me gently and handed me over the rose. I grabbed it with my shaky hands. I tried hard to contain my tears but failed terribly. I put my hand on my mouth to muffle my heavy sobs. I didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him. But I did. And the next thing I felt was Harry wrapping his arms around me and pressing against his chest. I clung onto him like my life was dependent on him. The whole room was filled with cheers, clapping and laughter.
Harry was rubbing my back soothingly, telling my not to cry. I nestled my face in the crook of his neck, breathing his scent in. The scent of his cologne hit my nostrils and awakened every cell and fiber in my body.
He pushed me slightly away, but so that we were still very close to each other. He put his hands on my cheeks and wiped away my falling tears.
“Don’t cry anymore, darling,” He said. “This is supposed to be your lucky day.”
I nodded, however, it was very hard to stop crying. People who already met him know what I’m talking about. Slowly, I regained myself and no more tears were flooding down my cheeks.
“Sorry for ruining your jacket,” I mumbled.
“Don’t worry about that,” He laughed. “It’s totally okay.”
As I looked back into his eyes, just to make sure this was not a dream, it hit me. “Shit, you’re fucking Harry Styles!” My voice was trembling.
“Yes,” He smiled at me. “I am fucking Harry Styles.” The room erupted into laughter.
Harry cleared his throat before he spoke again. “Happy birthday, m’love!”
I blushed slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you (Y/N). You’re friends couldn’t stop but talking about you non-stop in the last few months.” My eyes widened. Months? They were planning this for months?
“What?” I could only say, turning to my best friend.
“We all know that Harry is a busy man. We wanted to make sure that he was available on your birthday,” She said. I shook my head, but laughed. This all still seemed so surreal to me. How did they even manage to invite him?
“I’m glad they told me about you,” Harry said. “I’ve heard some nice stuff about you.”
The heavy wooden doors opened and my boss Lana came in. She walked towards me and Harry, hugging me first and then giving him a friendly hug. “Welcome Harry, my boy. Long time no see.”
Harry laughed shyly. “It’s good to see you again, Lana.”
I was startled a bit. They two knew each other? My boss turned towards me.
“Are you enjoying your birthday present?”
I nodded. “Yes, mam. Thank you so so much!” I turned and looked at the others in the room. “I still can’t believe that Harry Styles is standing next to me, but I really appreciate your effort with my whole heart. You made a dream come true. Thank you!” Everybody smiled.
“I think it’s time for your birthday cake,” Harry announced then, holding onto my hips. His close proximity let tingles run down my spine and I enjoyed every second of it.
The cake arrived and I blew out the candles. We ate the cake, which tasted heavenly, and then someone turned on the music so we could dance. Harry took my hand, dragging me towards to dance floor.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, his hands on my hips pushing me towards him.
“It’s the best birthday I’ve ever had!” I told him.
“ ‘M very glad you like it.” We danced like there was no tomorrow, but the closer the end came the more afraid I got. I knew that he had to leave soon and I didn’t want that. I enjoyed his presence so much and I refused to let him go. Unfortunately, he had to. The party was over soon. Too soon for my liking.
“Say hello to your mum from me,” Lana asked him, as they hugged each other goodbye. I found out that my boss and his mother were friends so that’s why they knew each other.
“I will. Again, thanks for inviting me.” His eyes fell on me and he smiled. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have known what I had missed.” I blush crept its way on my cheeks.
Harry came to me, holding my hands. “I’m glad I met you (Y/N). I really am. I’m grateful that your friends were bothering the shit out of me, telling me how wonderful you were. “
For the third time on this day, my eyes were filled with tears. He was such an angel. How can I even let him go?
“I don’t want to end it like this,” He admitted, making my heart beating faster.”I would like to get to know you better and I’m staying in New York for a while. So would you give me the honor of going on a date with me?”
Was this really happening? Or was I dreaming? He wanted to go on a date with me?
Without any hesitation, I nodded my head.
“Yes, yes yes yes yes!”
He laughed cutely and then leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on my cheek.
“Happy birthday again, (Y/N).”
#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles reader#one direction imagine#one direction fanfiction
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I'm Leaving Tumblr Today 👋
Hey everybody, I just wanted to let you know that this is my last day on Tumblr. I’ve had a lot of fun blogging but I’ve started to neglect what’s really important.
Anyway, as a parting gift, I wanted to give away all the art, fanfiction, and songs that I started but never finished. You can feel free to use ANY of this content or the ideas as you please. For example, it’s fine with me if you want to record my songs, steal lines from my fics, or use my art ideas. I’m not actually deactivating my account, so you’ll still be able to see content in this post and all my other posts even after I log out indefinitely.
Thank-you so much for your follows and your friendship! I hope my blog brought you some enjoyment while it lasted. Love you guys ❤
SONGS:
(Lyrics are in the Sound Cloud descriptions.)
Never Feed a Stray - Click Here to listen in Sound Cloud
A song about Marinette reluctantly falling for Chat Noir.
I Will Stay - Click Here to listen in Sound Cloud
A duet between the oblivious love birds, Adrien and Marinette.
ART:
(If you have ArtRage and want the .ptg file let me know!)
Mattress Surfing Comic
Basically the mattress surfing scene from Princess Diaries 2 but with Miraculous Ladybug characters. Unfortunately I never got around to drawing the third panel - Gabriel majestically gliding down the stairs on a mattress in his PJs (I added versions of the panels without words under the cut.)
Seven Eleven
So what if Seven from Mystic Messenger and Eleven from Stranger Things went to 7-Eleven? I feel like they’d talk about their crappy childhoods and bond over Slurpees and Honey Buddha Chips. Clearly I didn’t get very far with this one but I still like the idea. (Version with just Eleven under the cut.)
(Other versions of my art and unfinished fanfiction under the cut)
FANFICTION
Pursuit - In this Miraculous AU, Adrien is the sole miraculous holder and Marinette is a civilian who becomes a self-imposed vigilante. The love square and their personalities are sort of flipped so Adrien is a socially awkward mess around Marinette and Ladybug is flirty with Chat Noir.
(I didn’t even finish writing the first chapter…)
She should have stayed inside. The rain was falling harder now, bringing with it a frigid sensation that washed over Marinette’s paralyzed body. The glowing pause symbol hovered before her, a taunting reminder of the menacing evil that had overcome her best friend. But that had been hours ago.
“It’s been too long,” Marinette kept thinking. “Something’s wrong.”
She was beginning to fear the worst when suddenly a familiar wave of green light shot through the sky, one of its rays swimming through the air in her direction. As it surrounded her, the pause symbol disappeared, releasing its death grip on her muscles. Marinette fell to her hands and knees on the wet pavement, her body shaking violently as it fought to regain heat.
“He did it.” She realized in relief. “Chat Noir did it.”
She trudged through the storm, each unavoidable puddle soaking through her shoes and biting at her toes. The only warmth provided her was a burning envy for those who passed by with umbrellas. She waited at a street corner, trying to avoid the waves of water that shot towards her as cars sped by. When the crosswalk signal finally turned green, Marinette stepped onto the slick street, distracted by thoughts of home.
What she would give right now to be inside and safe and warm and dry and wrapped in her parents’ arms. Unfortunately, the latter would not be possible until tomorrow, as they were both in Strasbourg for the annual Festival de la Boulangerie. Maybe she could spend the night with Alya. She would probably appreciate the company after what happened today… Through her thoughts and the tumult of rain around her, Marinette suddenly heard a desperate screech of tires and a blaring car horn. Still in the street, she froze as her eyes caught sight of a black vehicle hydroplaning in her direction.
There’s no time.
A powerful force slammed into the Parisian girl’s body, catapulting her through the air and onto the pavement. But it wasn’t the car.
“Are you okay?”
Marinette could feel a pair of arms releasing her. She looked up, relatively unharmed, to see a pair of glowing green eyes staring at her from beneath a black mask. She was speechless. Chat Noir gently pulled her to her feet as a small crowd gathered round. The people applauded and cheered, some shielding their phones from the rain as they recorded the moment, but the hero paid them no mind. His gaze was transfixed on Marinette in concern. Her face was pale with shock, her skin freezing cold, and her unsteady legs looked like they might give out at any second.“We need to get you home.” He placed an arm around her back and scooped her up, vaulting effortlessly from the ground to the roof of a car. Marinette gasped as they rebounded off an awning and landed on the roof, where the wind was strong and numbing. The hero looked around, then set her down beneath an eave which blocked the rain.
“Where do you live?”
Poor Marinette’s brain still hadn’t quite registered that Chat Noir, savior of Paris, was kneeling right there in front of her. Surely, she was hallucinating from hypothermia. He tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder and immediately the electricity jump-started her senses. “Oh! Uh, t-t-twelve Rue G-gotlib!” Marinette practically winced at how screwed up her speech was. A raspy voice and chattering teeth were hardly attractive. But Chat just smiled.
“So you do talk after all.” A soft laugh escaped her lips. For some reason she had imagined Chat Noir would be dark and brooding, not… charming. “What’s your name?” he asked curiously. A flicker of warmth ignited in her chest. “Marinette.”
…
Chat Noir already knew Marinette’s name. He even knew where she lived. He visited her family’s bakery practically every week just on the off chance that he might see her outside of school. But that was without the mask, when he was just… Adrien. Despite the way he was pictured in most magazines and ad campaigns, the model was far from suave in everyday life. A practically friendless childhood left him with crippling social anxiety around those his age.
As a result, his first few days at Collège Françoise Dupont, a little over a month ago, were a nightmare. He accidentally introduced himself as “Adrigen Areste" in front of the whole class and found himself tripping over things on a frequent basis. The excitement of having a “famous model” for a classmate quickly dissipated. His deskmate, Nino Lahiffe, seemed sympathetic but struggled to maintain conversation with the new student. Adrien was accustomed to a professional and practical form of dialogue so when the Moroccan said, “Dude, have you heard the new Jagged Stone album? It’s totally lit!” …he was lost for words.
Then there was Marinette. On his second day, Adrien caught her hanging flyers all over the school hallways. They featured one of his more recent model shots, defaced with a uni-brow and captioned “Adrigen Areste”. There were hundreds of them. It wasn’t until after school that he found out they were really Chloe’s doing.
“I was only trying to take them down.” Adrien looked past his locker door to see Marinette standing a little ways off, her face a mixture of guilt and compassion. “I know what it feels like to be the new kid and… well, I’m sorry we haven’t been very welcoming.” She reached into her pocket. “Here.” Marinette held out a colorful beaded bracelet. “This is my lucky charm. My mother gave it to me when I first came here and I thought… it might help you.” Adrien was shocked and completely overcome with gratitude. He accepted the gift and admired the bracelet in his hands as if it were a priceless treasure. He looked back at her sheepishly.
“Thank-you…uh-” he faltered.
“Marinette.” It was such a beautiful name. Almost as beautiful as Marinette, herself. Of course, Adrien didn’t have the courage to tell her that at the time. But now… on the roof and under the mask, he had a second chance. When she introduced herself to Chat Noir, he smiled affectionately.
“That’s a pretty name.”
Cataclysm - Chat ends up confessing his feelings to Ladybug in this unfinished first chapter. I imagined him getting akumatized (into “Cataclysm”, not Chat Blanc lol) after being rejected by her and vowing to destroy the one who stole her heart. When he finds out it was actually his civilian self… well, I don’t know. I didn’t really plan out this plot, but I hope you enjoy!
It was a quiet night. Ladybug and Chat Noir strolled along the rooftops of Paris, planning in tandem as they patrolled the city.
“All the akumas have been striking within the same 5 kilometer radius,” Ladybug said. “If we can just figure out where they’re coming from, we can find Hawk Moth and stop him.”
“You know,” Chat added, “we might not be able to survey the whole city on our own, but-” he tossed his baton up between two adjacent chimneys. “-we do have quite the fan following. Maybe they could help?” He sprang up on the stick and began walking it back and forth like a tight rope. Ladybug paced beneath him.
“That’s not a bad idea. We should talk to Aly- uh that Ladyblog girl. If we can rally enough Parisians to report butterfly sightings on her website, we might be able to narrow down our search area.”
As Ladybug strategized, her nose scrunched up in a way Chat Noir couldn’t help but find adorable. He crouched down, smiling at his smart little bug as he gripped the pole with his claws. “Hawk Moth will be de-miracularized and behind bars in no time.”
Ladybug smiled back at Chat, but a thought caught at her mind. She swung her yoyo around the pole, fashioning it into a swing, and sat with her eyes fixed on the horizon.
Chat swung forward so that he hung upside down beside her and asked with concern, “What’s wrong?” He elbowed her playfully, hoping a joke might bring back that elusive smile. “Cat got your tongue?” But there was no smile, no laugh… not even an eye roll.
“No, I was just thinking…” Ladybug looked down at her yoyo. ”What will we do after he’s defeated?”
Chat dropped to the ground and stood up. “What do you mean?”
“When Hawk Moth is gone, there’ll be no more akumas to capture.” Her foot brushed back and forth against the ground anxiously. “Paris won’t really need us anymore.”
Chat had never considered this.
The thought of losing his newfound freedom was unnerving. The thought of losing Ladybug was even worse. Even if Paris didn’t need her, he did.
“Hey-” Chat lifted her chin gently, “Forget Paris. I happen to remember a certain set of hieroglyphics that prove the world has needed Ladybug for thousands of years.”
Ladybug raised an eyebrow curiously. “The world?”
“Yeah, doesn’t that sound great?” Chat squeezed himself next to Ladybug on the yoyo swing and wrapped an arm around her, much to her chagrin. “You and me: travelling the globe, defeating evil-” the corners of his mouth crept upward as if to warn Ladybug that he was about to say something cheeky, so she interrupted.
“You and me, huh?” She stood up and released her yoyo so that Chat fell on his tail. “And what if I decide to go solo, hmm?” She said with a hint of sass.
Chat was undeterred. “Then I’ll become a villain just so I can see you again.”
“Gag,” thought Ladybug, rolling her eyes. She could understand playful flirting, but Chat’s incessant romantic flattery was starting to bother her. Maybe she wouldn’t mind it as much if she thought it were genuine, but his coquettish behavior towards her civilian alter ego had proven otherwise. She took the banter a bit farther with a flair of dramatic indifference. “Eh, I think I’ll save my energy for bigger threats…”
Chat hopped up feistily and crossed his arms. “Okay, Spots, let’s go then! Right here, right now.”
Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking right?”
“Not at all.” He held up his fists. “I’m one hundred purrr-cent serious.”
She considered the opportunity. “Alright then, but if I win, no more puns for the rest of the month.”
He pouted. “Harsh, but I’ll accept it. If I win, though, you have to laugh at my puns for the rest of the month.”
“Good thing I know I how to act,” Ladybug said. “Not that I’ll need to.”
“Because I’m hilarious?” Chat smiled.
She took her fighting stance, “Because I’m going to win!”
Ladybug charged forward, swinging her yoyo in Chat Noir’s direction. He dodged it by ducking swiftly, but then again, Ladybug hadn’t been aiming for him. As the yoyo wrapped around his silver baton, she tugged it forcefully, bringing both back in her direction. Chat swiped towards the gadget as it flew over his head but missed by a few inches. His partner waved it teasingly in the air. “You want the stick?” She tossed it off the roof behind her. “Go fetch!”
Chat squinted at her. “Uh…yeah, cat’s don’t do that.”
She shrugged “Suit yourself.”
“Just to be fair though-” Chat pounced towards her, a clawed hand reaching out to bat away the yoyo. Ladybug jolted backwards, leaving her leather-clad opponent once again swiping at nothing but air - and also falling into her. With a tumble she was down, the clumsy cat draped over her. Shoving against the ground, she flipped the two over and pinned Chat by his shoulders. “Give up yet, Kitty?” she smiled.
“Not a cha- ah- ah-” Circumstantially, one of Ladybug’s pigtails had brushed his nose in the tumbling. “CHOO!” Ladybug reeled back to avoid the sneeze, and Chat - rebounding from the reaction - pulled his legs in and kicked her off. “Pardonne-moi, mademoiselle!“
Ladybug leapt to her feet, calculating her next move.
“You’re going to pay for that!”
Chat Noir smirked, calculating his next pun.
“Oh darn, I don’t have any euros on me.”
For another half hour, they chased each other around the city, competitiveness ever growing as they tried to force one another to surrender without causing any significant pain. It was good training, they realized, considering the duo had to do the same with akumatized villains. But this battle seemed like it would never end. The two were so equally matched, so well-balanced, and so familiar that neither seemed able to hold the upper hand for long. That is, until Ladybug bent the rules a little.
“LUCKY CHARM!”
As Ladybug activated her power with a swing of her glowing yoyo, Chat Noir groaned and shouted, “Hey, c’mon! No powers!”
“Sorry, chaton!” she returned as a red and black fabric fell into her hands. “A sheet?” she muttered. “What can I do to him with this?”
Chat’s cheeks burned at the cheeky response that popped into his head. Behave yourself, Agreste! She is a lady!
Ladybug settled for waving the red sheet in a matador fashion “Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty! Come and get me!”
“You sure are terri-bull at understanding cats, milady.”
“And you’re terrible at understanding girls, Chat” she thought in response.
She disappeared down the side of the Eiffel Tower. Chat Noir paused before pursuing her, punching a fist into the air as he shouted,
“CATACLYSM!”
(I didn’t write this transition. Oops!)
He fell right into her cat-trap, the corners of the sheet wrapping around him and closing at the top as ladybug’s yoyo tightened around it. Chat kicked and clawed about inside but the material didn’t tear. “Game over, Chat!” Even from within the dark confines of the trap, Chat Noir could guarantee that Ladybug was just below him, hands on her hips and smiling smugly.
“Be careful milady. You just might let the cat out of the bag.”
“Huh?”
(He extends his baton, breaking open the trap, and falls on top of Ladybug. He somehow manages to roll her up in the sheet and is kneeling over her)
“Well, aren’t you snug as a bug in a rug?”
“Fine, you won. Good for you.”
“With that charm, my lady, one day you just might get lucky.”
Ladybug blushed uncomfortably. “Ugh, Chat stop.”
“Why?” He grinned and leaned closer to her face. “Am I bugging you, beautiful?” Something snapped in Ladybug then. By then she had freed one hand and used it to push Chat out of her face. “Seriously, can you quit it?” She squirmed out of the sheet and brushed herself off. “The puns are one thing, but do you have to be so obnoxiously flirty?”
“Woah, woah!” Chat held up his hands defensively, trying to reassure her. “Calm down. I was only-”
“Only what, alley cat?” Once she got started, it was hard for her to stop.
“I…uh…” Chat’s face burned with embarrassment, beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck.
She jabbed a finger at his chest. “Look, Chat. If you want to be an egotistical flirt with other girls, that’s fine by me, but I’m your partner. I’m not some mouse for you to chase, so just stop!”
A wave of dejection fell over his face, and Ladybug realized she’d gone too far.
“Oh. Um… I’m sorry, my la- uh Ladybug.” He rubbed at his arm. “I’ll leave you alone.” He took a few steps back before turning and running off.
Ladybug reached out her arm. “Chat, wait!”
He bounded way without so much as a glance back at her. Ladybug bit her lip anxiously. She had only been trying to stand up for herself - just like Alya taught her - but maybe in the heat of the moment… she had misjudged him. Ladybug pulled out the tracker on her yoyo.
She found Chat sitting on a bench beneath the Eiffel Tower. He was arched forward with his elbows on his knees and head resting on the heel of one hand. When she landed a few yards away from him, his black ears twitched and he closed his eyes with a sigh. Ladybug crept forward, wringing her hands nervously. “Chat? I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry.” He didn’t respond. Ladybug sat down beside him. “Really, uh- Eiffel Tower-bly about it.”
Chat opened his eyes in surprise and he finally looked over at Ladybug. She smiled apologetically at him and he gave in.
“I’m sorry too. I thought maybe…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Forget it.”
“Chat, please…” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I misjudged you because… I don’t really know you. I need you to talk to me.”
Chat took a quick glance up at her eyes and seemed to find the reassurance he needed. He took a deep breath.
“Well, growing up, I was… pretty isolated. I was home-schooled for most of my life and I always felt this pressure to act and talk a certain way. I had no freedom… and no friends… until the day my miraculous showed up. All of a sudden, I had this freedom to be whoever I wanted to be, but I didn’t really know what to do with it. Like I said… I haven’t had much experience socializing – especially not with… girls – so I’ve been basing a lot of my behavior on… um, anime.”
“That actually explains a lot…”
“It seemed to work for Tamaki-
“Yeah, but Haruhi fell in love with Tamaki despite his flirty and over dramatic nature, not because of it! Was he even paying attention?”
“-so I thought I’d uh… try it on you.”
“Haha, well you clearly chose the wrong guinea pig!”
“What? No, Ladybug, you’re not a guinea pig. I… I love you.”
“Really?” “Chat, I had no idea you felt that way…”
“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag… you don’t happen to have feelings for me too, do you?
“I uh-”
“And once again, curiosity killed the cat…”
“Chat, I just don’t think it would be a good idea to date when so much is on the line.” She pulled at one her pigtails nervously. “We have responsibilities and-”
“Ladybug, you don’t have to lie on my behalf.”
“I do like you, Chat. Really. I mean, maybe not when you’re imitating cartoon characters, but… beyond that, you’re smart, brave, selfless… you’ve sacrificed your safety for mine on more than one occasion! You’re the best partner I could ask for… but the thing is, I… I’m already in love with somebody else. And who knows if anything will come of it, but-” she bit her lip. “I can’t change the way I feel. I’m sorry, Chat.”
That’s it! Again, feel free to use ANY of this! And if you do, send me a message so I can check it out if I ever come back by Tumblr in the future :) BYE!!!
#miraculous ladybug#mtolacn#wip#free content#bye!#sometimes I say words#sometimes i draw art#sometimes i write stories#mine#my art#my fics#stranger things#mystic messenger
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