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sparklecarehospital · 5 months

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been reflecting on my year a bit, and i was thinking about something. i think i know what the best thing i did for myself this year was.

making cometcare public. making the ask blog.

ive had this AU stirring in my brain since 2019, ever since i got really attached to doomi during the haunted arc. one reason i went so long without revealing pollarrydoomi as a ship to readers was because doom's crush wasn't public information until late 2021.

i had kept his crush a mystery for 3 years, but revealed it after a fun experience where people figured out who it was through guessing. i'm pretty sure i did a poll about it? asking people to guess who they thought it was, and uni won the vote, meaning everyone had already figured it out.

after pollarrydoomi was revealed and i started drawing art for it and people made fanart for it, i still couldn't post any of my AU art because ally wasn't public and she and howie were in the AU. in july 2022, for the comic's birthday, i revealed ally as a character to the readers. others around the time had started to notice characters i had in pfps and i ended up telling everyone i did have pollarrydoomi ship kids, but i didn't make them public.

in november 2022, i revealed eve on toyhouse. after her reveal, i would soon reveal sly as well in december 2022 on my birthday (revealing sly as a birthday present to myself is such a funny gesture now that you guys know how important he is to me). over the next few weeks i revealed cream, frosty, and marco as well. all of the main cometkids except chem.

then one day someone out there suggested that i make an ask blog for the cometcare AU. it was such a spontaneous decision, and i didn't even really know what i was gonna do with it at first. i was just kinda messing around. but when i made the blog i realized that if i wanted this AU to be experienced in complete authenticity, i couldn't make uni cis.

so i revealed uni being trans through the blog, despite the fact i'd gone so many years without ever revealing her identity. why did i do it? there's a lot of reasons. not wanting to make her a "dad" in the AU contributed, but also i felt like it wouldn't be detrimental to the story to confirm a character being trans. it also made me (and the crew in general) a lot more comfortable being able to properly refer to uni with her actual pronouns.

making the ask blog really changed me, because finally i could share this little family and comfort story i'd built in my brain with the world and make it real and make content for it and let people consume it.

but what stopped me most of all?

i've said it many times before... but i felt like it was cringey.

i felt like making an AU with 93985893844 fankids in a ridiculous complicated polycule wasn't something a Serious content creator should do, and i was really worried the reception would be negative or people would think it was stupid or something. i did NOT expect it to become as popular as it is. the blog actually has more followers than the MAIN ASK BLOG for the canon comic. it was received SO POSITIVELY and the fact it was just kind of blows me away.

it means so much to me. being able to share the most special thing in my life with people and for people to actually like it and have fun with me and want to see it, and for me to be able to not have to follow strict professionalism about spoilers and chronological storytelling, and being able to change and add in things whenever i felt like it. it's such a freeing experience.

when i was a kid, i used to make stories and OCs and i didn't take them as seriously as i do the sparklecare reboot. this kind of turned into my entire life and career kinda, so i had to take it more seriously. but making this AU honestly just makes me feel like i'm a kid again, it makes me feel like i can have fun and literally do whatever the fuck i want without worrying what people think or if it's realistic or if it makes any sense.

i know though, that some people don't like pollarrydoomi. and i know why. whether it's because of being attached to barruni (of course, they're the canon ship and main characters, i get it) or just having discomfort with the idea of shipping doom with anyone when canonically he hasn't experienced a redemption arc... i get it. i know not everyone likes it.

and that's okay! people are entitled to having their own feelings about content. i understand it. and i've come to accept that's always going to be the case with anything i do with these characters.

but i'm still going to do this for myself. i do this because it makes me happy to just have fun and not worry about being serious all the time. it feels good, especially when it's with characters that are really really important to me.

cometcare is genuinely the most special and important thing i've ever made for myself, it's such a huge piece of my identity and it makes me who i am. and being able to make this story public and share it with people and share these things that have been in my brain for so long with others means so much to me.

that's why i think it was the best thing i've done this year. it's kind of literally changed my life to be able to talk about them. it's made me happier than i've ever been making content. i'm not just making it to entertain myself alone anymore, i'm making it to entertain others like i do with other stuff. and the fact people actually like it still is unbelievable to me.

so, i guess my outlook for next year as it comes is to continue to stop taking everything so seriously. i can tell my stories however i want to. i hope others can realize they can do this too.

please make whatever you want, whenever you what, as much as you want, even if it doesn't make sense or if it's "cringe". you will be so much happier when you realize as a creator you DON'T have to take all of this so seriously. the comic still exists and people read it even if i'm doing this. You Can Do Whatever You Want And Nobody Can Ever Stop You. the only person who can stop you is yourself when you let your inhibitions get in the way of your ability to create things for yourself.

have fun! life is too short to take everything you do seriously

#text #cometcare au #pollarrydoomi #long post

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certifiedskywalker · 3 years

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Pomegranate Chapstick - Peter Parker

It’s Winter in New York City. Not that movie magic kind of Winter that reeks of mistletoe and Hallmark channel cliches. No, it’s no longer the Holiday Season and everyone is back to school after Winter Break. Peter Parker is happy to be back because being back means being able to see you again. Though, something is different about you but he just can’t place it.

“What is it?”

“Y/N…”

“Yeah?” Ned looked in the same direction as Peter, who, suddenly self conscious, turned his friend back around to face him. “What is it?”

“Don’t, don’t look! I just…” Peter found that his eyes trailed back over to where you talking with MJ. Your eyes were bright, hands gesturing about you as your friend shared you into a passion. Despite your movements, Peter found himself drawn back to your smile.

“Something’s different,” he finished, “but I don’t know what.”

“It’s only been like two weeks. It was Christmas literally a few days ago.” Peter glanced warily at Ned before he looked back to you. You were still smiling. The sight made his chest tighten, stole his breath directly from his lungs. “Pete?”

“You remember Homecoming,” Peter pointed out as he met Ned’s eyes, “that all happened in a week and I almost died. Twice! Anything could have happened over break.”

Peter let his eyes wander back to you. Whatever MJ was discussing with you was enthralling. You were completely consumed, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. Slightly hidden under all of the layers of Winter clothing you were wearing, you looked warm, aflamed and bright. Suddenly, you threw your head back, laughing at something MJ had said.

The sound sent a shiver down Peter’s spine that he tried to pass off as a response to the cold. He pulled the sleeves of his jacket over his chilled hands and adjusted the strap of his backpack that dug into his shoulder. Ned blinked at him a few times, too close of a friend to not notice Peter’s nervous ticks.

Eventually, Ned glanced over in your direction too. “Well, Y/N seemed alright. We had Advanced Geometry together and we talked.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Really? Did anything happen?”

“From what Y/N said, your Winter break was way more eventful, Spiderman.”

Peter knocked the back of his hand against Ned’s shoulder to hush him. Classmates continued to file out of the school, laughing and chatting about the less than glorious return to academia. Peter eyed them all as they stepped down the stairs to the streets of the city. None of his peers seemed to have picked up on Peter’s secret. Satisfied his identity was safe, Peter glanced at Ned with a warning balanced in his frown.

“Sorry,” Ned said, raising his hands.

“Gotta be more careful.” Peter glanced around at the faces of his classmates once more. Everyone was too caught up in leaving school for the day to notice the worried look on his face. All except you when Peter accidentally met your eyes. Quickly, he tore his gaze away and stared directly, wide-eyed, at Ned.

“What?”

“Y/N.” Ned glanced over in your direction.

“Headed over with MJ. Why?”

Peter’s face warmed to the point where the scarf wrapped around his jaw was pointless. “And? Does...is...do I look okay?”

Ned squinted before his lips broke into a wide grin. A laugh rattled in his chest and Peter felt a fresh wave of panic wash over his shoulders.

“What?! Do I look-”

“Hey losers,” MJ greeted, standing by your side. Peter glanced at the curly-haired girl before he saw you gently elbowed her shoulder. He met your eyes and felt his lips instinctively curl up in a lopsided smile.

“Hi,” Peter said softly as he tried to steady his breathing. Now, with you closer, he tried to study you, sleuth out what was different.

“Hey! Do you guys wanna do something? Hang out?”

Your smile was still as bright as your eyes as you asked. Maybe it was the ruddiness in your cheeks, spurred on by the cold that made you seem changed? No, that was too simple.

“Nah, I gotta work,” MJ said.

“Wow, you got a job?” Ned asked, causing Peter to glance away from your face for a moment. When he looked back to you, Peter found that you were looking at him. Though, you quickly looked to MJ, waiting for her reply.

“Yeah, over break. At the QuikMart.”

Maybe you got a haircut or, possibly, you dyed your hair and the color was fading back to it’s natural tone. Aunt May had dyed her hair a dark red one year. Peter remembered thinking there was blood in the tub when the pigment started to wash out. Though, even with his ‘Spidey-vision’, as Ned called it, Peter couldn’t detect a color.

“Awesome. Can you get me free slushies?”

“Bro, I don’t even get free slushies,” MJ replied, frowning at Ned. “I gotta go, can’t be late. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“See ya,” you said, waving off your friend as MJ walked along the snowy sidewalks. Peter swallowed hard when you looked back to him and Ned. “What about you two?”

“I told my mom I’d be back after school to help her with my lola, my grandma.” Peter’s brow furrowed and he turned his head to look at Ned. “Really? You need help?”

“No, she’s coming over to make some food,” Ned explained as he started down the steps of the school. “I’m mom’s moral support.”

“Oh…”

“Well, have fun with that,” you said, bringing Peter’s eyes back to focus on you. “Maybe next time then.”

Ned let out another laugh. It was eerily similar to the laugh he gave Peter when he asked if he looked okay. Something about the sound made Peter’s stomach twist.

“You two have fun!” Ned’s shout disappeared after him, down the sidewalk and into the city. His words left you and Peter alone. You glanced back to him with a soft smile on your lips. Peter couldn’t help but smile back at you, even though he did so nervously. His eyes flickered up to yours then back to your lips.

While your smile was unchanged, still yours and beautiful, he kept coming back to your lips. It had to be your lips that were different and Peter leaned in slightly to figure out how. Your eyes widened slightly and Peter’s face burned with realization.

“Uh, sorry,” Peter shifted back and let his gaze fall. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“I-I...to be honest, I don’t know. I just missed you over Winter break. Missed, all of you, I mean. MJ and Ned, and you.” You held Peter’s eyes for a fleeting glance before you busied yourself wiping snow off the steps with your boot.

“Yeah, I,” Peter felt his chest tightened again, “I missed you too, Y/N.”

You looked back up at him, met his brown eyes and gave him a closed-lip smile. Silence fell over the two of you but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was easy, not tension filled and heavy. Being with you was always easy for Peter but this new nervousness that bloomed over Winter break was difficult to manage. He couldn’t let his eyes linger on you too long until fear took hold.

The silence too had its limit. “We should head over to the library maybe. You have Ms. Turner for chem, right? We could study together if you want.”

Peter fought the urge to cringe as his suggestion. In his head, it sounded better, more thought through. He had missed you and wanted to spend time with you. So, naturally, he had to recommend the quiet library. Maybe he was the one that was different, more awkward.

“Sure, yeah!” You started down the steps and Peter trailed after you. “She’s new and I’m a bit nervous about how she tests.”

“I’m nervous too,” Peter agreed as he fell into step beside you. “About the test.”

Peter glanced at you from the corner of his eyes and saw that you were already looking at him. Quickly, you both looked away from the other and started to walk silently towards the library. Every so often, Peter felt your gloved hand against the skin of his bare knuckles. Each time you touched him, a new sense of curiosity struck him. This quietness was different, he wasn’t sure that he liked it, and your hidden change still gnawed at him.

Mr. Stark had given Peter many words of wisdom. Always ask questions was, seemingly, his motto when it came to his ‘internship’. Though, Peter couldn’t find the words. Everytime he did, he second guessed.

Hey, what did you get up to over break? New style? No, no, no! It had to be your smile. He was stuck on your smile, your lips.

Finally, with nerves and desperation bubbling up inside, Peter let the words come out without thinking. “Y/N, are you wearing like lipstick or something?”

You laughed, drawing the attention of those around you. The last crosswalk before the library was fast approaching and Peter needed to find out what had changed before you were both doomed to a respectable quiet.

“Lipstick? No, I am wearing tinted chapstick though.”

“Oh,” Peter’s brow furrowed, “I guess maybe that’s what’s different.”

“Different?” At your amused tone, Peter looked at you, brown eyes searching your face. There was a softness in his eyes and stole your breath away. His lips turned up slightly at the corners, the gentlest smile you had ever seen.

“You just...you look-”

A car horn, loud, alarming, and terribly frightening ripped through the air. Peter reacted to the sound, lurching forwards and wrapping his arms around your waist. Even with your bag slung halfway on your back, Peter was able to catch you as you nearly fell into the street. The car horn faded into the distance but your attention shifted from death to Peter in an instant.

“Beautiful,” he finished.

Finally, it clicked. You hadn’t changed, but the way Peter saw you had. The way he saw your lips had shifted too. More enticing than ever before.

“Peter, I…”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” Peter said, quickly helping you back to your feet and out of the crosswalk. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you said with a swallow breath. Peter’s hands were still on you, thumbs gently rubbing your coat-covered, upper arm. Your eyes lingered on Peter, unable to tear them away.

His breath, and yours, came out in small clouds, chilled by the cold. Together, you made your own atmosphere and shared the same air. Adrenaline pumped through Peter’s veins, filled, not with curisoulity anymore, but want. He took a step closer.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You found yourself coaxed closer by his warmth.

“Can...can I kiss you?”

You smiled again and nodded. “Yes.”

Peter leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. His fingers dug into the material of your coat softly. One of your hands reached up, cupped his face and accidentally knocked his hat off of his brown curls. Neither of you cared and, instead, savored your shared late-Winter kiss. Peter’s hands trailed up your arms until they gently held your jaw, keeping your lips on his.

Peter’s eyes stayed closed and a smile plastered on his face when you pulled away. A chuckle passed over your lips when you saw how your tinted chapstick left a faint stain on Peter’s lips. Carefully, you used your thumb and wiped what residue you saw away. Peter’s eyes opened at the touch and his smile widened.

“Pomegranate?”

“You like it?”

Peter pulled you in for another kiss after saying, “I love it.”

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shmende · 5 years

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Growing Out Of It: Pt. 1 - The Unexpected (Shawn Mendes)

In which the reunion of old school friends stirs up some uninvited feelings

No warning, just very slow burn-ish. Also roughly 4.2k words. Enjoy!

Mary-Anne shot an expectant glance from the other side of the bar, thin brows wrinkled and mouth straight. “Kid spilled her drink at 12.”

Judging by her exasperated tone, I obviously wasn’t the only one categorically done with LLV’s Kid’s Sundays. I liked kids, I really did, but they were still a pain in the ass sometimes.

And the parents.

I sighed, remembering the run-in with a particularly nasty mother last Sunday who had insisted that her little five-year-old wouldn’t - couldn’t - consume our fatty french fries, which, by the way, were literally the food about seventy percent of LLV’s costumers came here for, and complained about how we, as a restaurant, endangered her child’s health.

Fucking tourists.

Usually I liked my job, really, it was quite fun, quite sociable, it paid the bills (the horrendously high bills in Toronto), and I couldn’t recall too many unpleasant encounters with costumers, Canadian customers, but those Americans. Sometimes Europeans, too. They could be arseholes.

Desperately wishing for a nice, peaceful family at 12, I grabbed a few napkins, a wet wash cloth and made my way over along the dark, wooden bar, through the black maple pillars and the maze of birch tables, all filled with happy families, some with only one kid, some with grandparents and some pushed together to accommodate all six children. I waved at Tina and Felix, Jonah and Tracy (I hadn’t remembered the names of the little twins yet) and nodded at Mr. and Mrs. Crubick. They made it to every Kid’s Saturday.

Today they sat at 15, meaning that I was only three tables away. And yes, I probably should’ve noticed the woman crouched on the floor a few metres down and a toddler wiggling her arms, barely reaching above the table top, a wee bit earlier. Because then I definitely wouldn’t have stepped into the wet patch on the floor, stumbled and almost lost my balance.

The woman looked up, her short blonde hair messed up and shirt battered with a few light yellow stains. She looked exhausted. “I’m so, so sorry. Little Amy was way too excited about her apple juice.”

“No, ma’am. It’s all fine, no worries. This happens all the time here.” I said, getting to work with my wash cloth.

The woman sighed. “Sorry to cause such mayhem, Miss. I’m sure you weren’t planning to wipe the-”

“Miss, Miss!” A light voice interrupted.

The woman and I turned our heads to the toddler. She was cute, wearing pigtails and ribbons and a little chain with plastic bananas around her neck. Her brown eyes were wide.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to show Mummy something. Look, I drew her a picture! It’s the big tree in our garden.”

I smiled at her. “That’s a pretty picture. Hey, Amy, right? Do you want me to tell you a secret?”

She nodded eagerly. The woman got back on her feet as I finished up the floor as well as I could. Then I turned back to the girl and started wiping the table. The woman settled back into her seat, lifting her cup and motioning at the little one to secure her drawing utensils.

“Listen, Amy, you see the tall guy over there, behind the bar? The one with the brown hair and yellow shirt, like the one I’m wearing?” The girl nodded. “His name’s Matthew. He’ll make you a new juice if you draw him a pretty picture. How’s that sound?”

The girl gave an excited squeak. Then she wriggled in her seat and got to work.

Her mother smiled broadly, relieved, and thanked me. I smiled back before returning to the bar, taking a few orders and waving at Felix and Tina again.

“You’re too nice.”

I shrugged at Mary-Anne, occupied with typing the orders into our tablet.

“Matthew’s gonna cut off your tips one day, you know.”

Mary-Anne was 48 with wild brown curls that she kept in the tightest bun and piercing black eyes. She had a son in drama school in Lethbridge and in constant disagreement with her, especially because she’d desperately wanted her son to become a doctor. Still, she was much more of a delight to be around than any other adult in my life.

“No, he won’t. He knows the importance of good customer service,” I said pointedly, before snapping my eyes to my unbelievably tall boss and catching him with a grin on his lips. “Hey, Matt, you’re gonna get a drawing from an adorable little girl in exchange for an apple juice. Please don’t disappoint her.”

Matthew shot me a thumbs-up. Mary-Anne scoffed, but a small smile lingered on her lips.

She’d been working at LLV for ages, years before I’d started and she had used to be distant at first, insisting I’d only gotten the job because my chem tutor Will was an old friend of Matt’s. Which wasn’t necessarily wrong. I’d been in desperate need for a way to keep the bills paid while studying at U of T and ever since my parents had cut the money chords, I’d been barely scraping by. But I had proved myself. I had Matt now. And Mary-Anne. And the LLV.

And life didn’t seem as pointless as it had used to.

“Hey, Teddy just came in.” Matt said suddenly, making me whip my head to the door.

“Usual spot?”

After his small nod I grabbed the little notepad and sauntered over to the round tables by the window front, right by the terrace, and spotted her familiar mop of brown hair and gesticulating arms. She was with two guys and another girl, all dark-haired and wearing light coloured shirts. I felt like a burst of spring in my yellow top.

And I wasn’t even fully at the table when Teddy waved at me frantically. “Lacey! How you been?”

I grinned. Teddy was one for the books. Always happy, always bubbly. One of my favourite customers, especially on Kid’s Sunday.

“Now that you’re here I’m fantastic. How’re you, back in your old space?”

She laughed. “My favourite space,” and tapped the birch table twice. I took the opportunity to look over her company, my gaze getting stuck at a certain face, adorned with curls and a bright smile. No way.

My grin became involuntarily bigger.

“Shawn? Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Obviously this was a blatant lie. I’d seen him everywhere. On billboards, on magazines, on TV, YouTube, Instagram...the guy was all over. But years ago, when he hadn’t been a world-famous singer, he’d just been the guy sitting next to me in Algebra, struggling on problems and having a laugh if we got it totally wrong. And English Lit. Oh, and biology. Kind of.

Shawn’s eyes lit up. “Lacey Windsor? The Lacey Windsor?”

“Yes! Oh my god, this is-” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Shawn sprang up and pulled me into a hug, tight and friendly. I grimaced upon remembering the last time we’d hugged. Actually, the last time we’d even seen each other. Graduation. 2016.

I leant back from the hug, mind flashing to that warm night in June and how we’d danced like idiots, sneaked drinks into our gym and sat on the bleachers after the parents had left. Katherine, Ivy, Brian, Shawn and I, not my usual crowd, but Lisa and Theo had been impossible to keep trace of the whole night (ah, yes, young love) and so I’d somehow ended up with the cool music squad after Shawn had taken pity on me and called me over. Only to be sat next to my on-and-off crush of almost two years for the next something hours. It had been a great night. I still called Ivy a very good friend to this day.

“It’s so nice to see you, Lacey! How have you been?” Shawn sat down again, staring up at me expectantly. Suddenly I felt jittery.

“Yeah, I’ve been good. What about you? What are you up to nowadays, rockstar?” The nickname rolled over my lips too comfortably, considering the last time I’d called him that.

He laughed shortly, opening his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by Teddy’s slow drawl of a voice, which was one of the things I liked most about her. She didn’t let anyone rush her.

“Wait, you two know each other?”

I wanted to giggle at her raised brows and dropped jaw; also, I wanted to cry at the suddenness of this situation. I’m just as surprised as you, Teddy, trust me. Her fingers dangled in the air, motioning between Shawn and I.

“Yeah, we sat next to each other in school.”

“Algebra was a bitch, wasn’t it?” Shawn immediately regressed to talking to me again, looking up through his long lashes and with his signature grin; and I was 16 all over again. Shit.

Before I could even try to answer, Teddy spoke up. “So, like, you two have been totally unaware that you’ve practically been living in the same street for what - almost a year?”

I shrugged unsurely, feeling incredibly out of place. “I guess?”

Life had a funny way of playing out sometimes. Then I gaped (How did she know where I live?), but was once again cut off by Teddy who continued with a quip in her voice, eyes glistening with mischief. Oh, she was enjoying this.

“Yeah, remember when I drove you home that night, Lacey? When you were drunk out of your mind? I even said that you live conveniently close to the guy I write songs with. Remember?” Her drawl changed into a chuckle. “You were so confused about my job...”

It clicked. Of course I remembered. Three months ago, the night Teddy had become more than a customer - a mutual, an acquaintance, a friend. In other words, an enigma with the most intriguing life I’d ever witnessed (except for, you know, the guy I went to High School with who rose to international stardom before even graduating). I shook my head at her. Unbelievable.

“Wait...so you mean to tell me that the girl you’ve been wanting me to meet is Lacey Windsor? Lacey Windsor from my High School? That’s too much of a coincidence.” Shawn stared intensely at Teddy. I kind of wanted to crawl into a hole. Had she been trying to set us up?

Sure, we’d had a heart-to-heart once, had been somewhat friends ever since then (and I might’ve told her how much I used to like Shawn Mendes when he was still my ‘dirty little secret’, by which I had actually meant High School classmate) but apart from that, I’d pretty much only been her waitress. The only thing special about me was my great sense of favouritism.

And she’d wanted Shawn to meet me?

Teddy looked between Shawn and I, visibly disappointed in the new developments. “Well, my plan to get you two laid obviously backfired.”

My jaw dropped and I sputtered for a moment, alarmed. “You - we...what do you mean get us two laid?!”

My voice got unexpectedly shrill at the end and Teddy had definitely picked up on it. She was smirking now. I felt Shawn’s gaze on the side of my face, with mouth still hanging open and I wondered if he had noticed too. I ignored him. Don’t ruin this. Shawn cannot know about your childish High School crush on him. He has millions of female admirers now. He’s a fucking teenage heartthrob.

Teddy and Shawn were suspiciously quiet. (Probably freaked out.) My face heated up. How would I get out of this without making it awkward?

I cleared my throat. “Well, thanks for your concern, Teddy,” I shot her a pointed look, “but I don’t need you to get booty calls for me. I can manage on my own just fine actually.” Then I looked at the two unknown witnesses on the table, gripping my pencil tightly and ignored Teddy’s glinting eyes. She still found this amusing.

I jotted down everyone’s orders, making contact with lingering eyes and timid voices. Maybe my outburst had been a bit, well, much. I wasn’t usually this harsh, especially not with customers, but seeing Shawn like this, completely unexpected (even though obviously kind of planned - what the fuck, Teddy?) and immediately being accused of needing to get laid in front of him and also by him, that had been a bit much, too.

To put it nicely, I was kind of pissed. I had not envisioned catching up with my crush from algebra and English and biology through a dumb booty call. And a failed one, at that.

I avoided their table for the rest of the day, even though the four had already been out the door only two hours later. Teddy holding her phone up on the way out and warning me of a call that was to ensue later while Shawn had twisted his lips into something distantly resembling a smile and had given me a short wave. I was miserable.

“You overreacted, Lacey. Teddy was just trying to be nice. How could she’ve known that you know him and that you’ve admired him from afar like a middle schooler for ages?”

Mary-Anne was huffing and puffing, scrubbing the surface of the bar that Matt had - as usual - made a mess of.

“And she was right too. You haven’t been with someone in a while. You’re twenty-one, for god’s sake, get out there more! When I was your age, let me tell you –“

Basically, she blurred the line between mum and best friend a lot. Not to mention brooding older colleague, which was a role she only seemed to play when the LLV was overflowing with customers and sometimes, that truly was my favourite.

I groaned quietly, staring past her and sorting through today’s empty glass bottles. Clear in the red basket, green in the clear, plastic in the massive IKEA bag. Yeah, maybe not indulging in Mary-Anne’s talk would make her shut up. Maybe, hopefully.

“And Lacey Windsor, he is handsome, that Shawn guy,” she continued after a short silence. My face contorted into a whine. My heart raced. Handsome. He is handsome. Was handsome. In High School. Shit.

Aren’t you supposed to grow out of childish crushes at some point?

“And he was so polite, dear. You should give him a shot! Maybe just give him a ring? Shame if not, he was so into you too. Downright sad when I brought the food and not you, he was. You should’ve seen it!”

Now I whined out loud. “Stop, Mary-Anne. Please. I can’t -”

She had the audacity to giggle. “Can’t what? Contain the butterflies?” Whistling and grinning, she focused back on wiping the bar. I pierced her with a glare, a mixture of annoyance and disgust at her giddiness. When had my life become the subject of entertainment for other people? First Teddy, now Mary-Anne?

She was about to wipe down the sink when she chirped, “Man, I wish I was young again,” and I cracked, exclaiming,

“Mary-Anne, it’s not as fun as it seems.”

She winked and my cheek twitched. On my way out, I caught sight of a drawing attached to the far left liquor cabinet: a stick-figure with a yellow shirt and brown ponytail, carrying a massive pen in its hand. It was signed with scraggly letters, crooked but genuine. A-M-Y.

Teddy didn’t call that night. She came back to LLV three days later, on a Wednesday evening as I was covering for Matt on the bar. It was getting cold already in Canada and the flu had hit last week. Which also meant that LLV was unusually (and conveniently) empty.

“Lacey, I’m so sorry about Sunday,” she said, sliding into the bar stool right across from me. “I didn’t even mean the whole getting laid thing, it was supposed to be a joke. And I absolutely didn’t mean to offend you or something, or to meddle in your love life, but I just thought it’d be nice for you to meet someone to distract you from Nate and, let’s be honest, that dry spell of yours has been going on for three fucking months and I thought-”

I staggered, taken aback, and decided I needed to step in before she went too far with her rambling, “Well, hello to you too, Teddy,” I said, clipped, and continued mixing the Cuba Libre the blonde surfer dude from 7 had ordered, torn somewhere between laughing and fuming.

When she remained silent, I brusquely added, “Didn’t know you were so familiar with my sex life,” and stared at her. She shrunk slightly.

“Listen, I know we don’t exactly know each other in a conventional way and I didn’t mean to overstep.” Then she squared her shoulders and I knew I was in for a lecture. “But honey, it’s also not exactly rocket science to figure you out.”

I raised my brows in indignation. “Sorry?”

The relationship between her and I was weird, to say the least. We were mostly business. Waitress-customer kind of thing. But then, once I had cried in front of her because of Nate and she’d taken my drunk ass home, she came by in the evenings, sat down at the bar and asked me how I was doing. Eventually, I became curious and returned the question, and so we’d been bonding over the noises of my colleagues, costumers in all kinds of moods and the sound of the cocktail shaker for about three months. As the time went by, we became mutuals who saw each other once in a while and chatted about life, nothing serious, but also not nothing.

“Lacey,” she sighed, looking at me with her big blue eyes. Sometimes I despised her for being eight years older - and probably wiser. “I’m not stupid. You obviously haven’t been with anyone since Nate. No, don’t give me that look. You reek of sexual frustration.”

I gasped. “Excuse me?!”

This was new. Discussing our sex lives when we had usually focused more on my rather embarrassing moping about past loves. I slapped her forearm. “It’s only been two months and we really shouldn’t be discussing this here.” I gestured around the business of LLV, then moved to finish the Cuba Libre and put it on my tray. And I was off, leaving Teddy alone at the bar, shuffling to 7 and back, getting stopped to take orders a few times. Where on earth was Mary-Anne when you needed her?

“So,” Teddy’s voice filled my ears as soon as I got behind the bar again, only to be interrogated. “I did the maths. Two months? Who on earth did you lure in between your thighs and didn’t even bother mentioning it to me? Remember me? The person you cried to after you and Nate broke up?”

I gave her a pointed look. Then I shrugged, done with trying to keep the secret. All my dignity was already out the window anyways. “Nate.”

Teddy’s jaw was on the ground for the next minutes that I spent recalling the events of that Thursday evening in early September where I had randomly called Nate because of a bad day, just to hear his voice. And how he’d actually been in Toronto for a few days and thinking about calling me too; how we’d somehow ended up grabbing dinner and talking about all the good times we’d had and then the bad times and how he regretted having to break up but loved his job in Vancouver. And then a good-hearted hug had led to lingering eye-contact and rough breathing led to kissing and spending the night on his friend’s couch.

Teddy regained her composure, sitting up straight. “So you’ve had your closure now?”

I nodded, reassured because she didn’t seem to judge, and then turned to the coffee machine to make her an Espresso. We bathed in the silence for a bit, not knowing what the other was thinking and also not particularly caring to disrupt, until Teddy initiated,

“Well, I had hoped you’d know by now but I gave Shawn your number.”

I whipped my head to face her. “You did what?”

She held her hands up, surrendering. “I know, I’m sorry. But he was persistent. And I really don’t get why you insisted on ignoring us that hard on Sunday. Did he do something to you in school?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Have you met Shawn?”

“Yeah, right. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.” Teddy rested her chin on her palms, studying my face as I concentrated on the coffee machine. I was doing a miserable job of concealing the twisty feeling in my stomach. Just thinking about what Teddy might’ve told him about me prior to coming on Sunday. Did he think lowly of me now? Working as a waitress, struggling to pay bills and apparently relying on customers to get laid? No, he wasn’t like that. I knew him. Had known him for years.

“So, what I’m guessing is this,” she was back with the drawls, “You were embarrassed.”

She radiated mischief and satisfaction, even more when I moved to shake my head. A poor attempt at dignity.

She erupted in a toothy grin. “Don’t even try denying. You are so easy to read.”

I put the hot Espresso in front of her with a huff and a red face. How dare she?

“Then again, so is Shawn; he was burning to talk to you the whole time. I’m actually really surprised he hasn’t texted you yet.”

Teddy was saying all this very nonchalantly while blowing on her Espresso, like she hadn’t just revealed that Shawn had obviously been thinking about me too. I stared at her taking a sip. Then she looked up at me. I was distressed. Shawn? Burning to talk to me?

We’d gone two years without talking to each other and graduation seemed like another lifetime already. I tensed. It felt so long ago that he’d taken my hand on the way to my house. And it felt even longer ago that his breath had fanned my face when he’d let go of the hug at my door, when he’d kept his hands around my waist and looked from my eyes to my lips.

And that final, infinite moment right before I’d leant in, all ragged breathing and beating hearts and my first real kiss.

(Now that felt like an outer body experience at this point.)

I’d never told him that he was my first kiss, of course. We’d looked at each other afterwards; him scratching the back of his neck, me fiddling with the straps of my bag. The empty glass bottles rumbled inside it and I had hesitated when I said, “That...That was nice and all, but, and don’t get me wrong, I’m drunk and this was probably a mistake. I guess, you know, you’re a rockstar and practically on a world tour in a few days.”

And he’d lingered for a second, then nodded and well, then he was gone. For two years. Gone, but never really. It had proved quite difficult to ignore his existence when he became a celebrity. So I’d done the only thing any reasonable person trying to get over a crush did: Unfollowed him every-fucking-where and changed the radio station when a song of his came on. The only real connection I still had to him was my friend Ivy, but she had understood to shut up about him in front of me. Especially when I got with Nate a year and a half ago.

Somewhere around that time, I’d also gotten a new phone and I hadn’t even bothered to text him my new number. Still, I found myself wondering if our kiss had meant anything to him like it had to me back then.

I suddenly jerked my head, willing that thought out of my mind. Which didn’t go unnoticed by Teddy.

“Windsor, why am I getting the expression that you two have history?”

Clicking my tongue, I delved into the story.

Seven hours later, I laid in bed. Phone in hand and Shawn on my mind. My tiny room had nothing but a glass laptop table from IKEA, my wooden childhood bed and a few clothes racks (also IKEA, naturally). The rest of my stuff was stored in an array of cardboard boxes beneath the window, labelled with creative tags like cheap high-tech (chargers and various cables I had no idea how to use), pics to laugh at, pics to cry at, good books, trash books or, my favourite, a massive binder that read paid bills. I was a picture perfect (broke) university student.

My room was also freezing because I had forgotten to close my window this morning and I heard the faint sound of my roommates Timothy and Charlotte respectively watching movies in their rooms. Sucks to be sandwiched.

I envisioned what Shawn’s apartment must look like. It was probably really spacious, with big windows and high-ceilings. Minimalistic in furniture and full of music stuff. My fingers hovered over the keyboard; I stared at his contact info. Shawn Mendes.

Who was I kidding? What would I even text him? And would he even bother to reply at all?

I decided not knowing was better than being disappointed. At least I could still entertain my fantasies that way.

PART TWO??

#shawnmendes #shawnmendesfic #shawnmendesfanfic #shawnmendesfluff #shawnmendesangst #fluff #angst #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes reader #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes text post #writing #fanfic #first post #ashtonwahs

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mzrtinski-blog · 7 years

Text

What now?

AUTHORS: @surpeme-bean @dylrider @mzrtinski

REQUEST: stiles had been spending a lot of time with Lydia and the reader knows he likes Lydia but one night the reader shows up at stiles’ house to confess her feelings for him and then maybe some smutty smut smut? lol

WARNINGS: smutty smut smut, alcohol, cursing

WORDS: 3,126

A/N: this is the first fic ever that I've helped create and I'm beyond happy that I got to do it with these two amazing doods :P

Y/N POV

I sat in chemistry with Scott, our teacher droning on about types of acids. I was so distracted and lost in thought that I missed the question Mr Harris asked me, who obviously knew I wasn't listening. I fumble over my words but manage to mumble out an apology along with “I-um didn't catch that, what was the question, sir ?"

"miss y/l/n, maybe it would a smart idea for you to listen next time ? don't think I've forgotten how behind you already are" I feel my cheeks redden a little at his words, broadcasting to the class that I'm failing chemistry.

Scott gives me a concerned look, "what's on your mind, y/n ?" he whispers, careful not to draw any attention back this way.

"don't worry about it, scotty" I offer a reassuring smile "just daydreaming"

he doesn't seem to buy it, "you know you can tell me anything, right ?"

"i jus-" my words were cut off by Mr Harris dropping a heavy book on our desk, both our heads snapping to the teacher.

"maybe you two would benefit from some time apart, no?"

"no" we reply in sync, irritating him more and he rolls his eyes.

the bell rings just as he is about to issue us with detention

"saved by the bell, right sir?" Scott says, a smirk evident in his voice.

with a sigh Mr Harris replies, "fine, but next time it's Saturday detentions-" his attempt to tell us off backfires as we're already out the class and making our way to next period. I walk down the hall a little faster than normal in an attempt to lose Scott, but he catches up.

"talk to me, y/n, what was up with you back in class ?" his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"you're going the wrong way, you have Econ now" I tried avoiding his question

"don't change the subject" he says, sounding kind of annoyed

"I'm fine, really. just a little tired" smiling again and picking up my pace.

"c'mon I can smell it on you, something's up...is it about stiles ?" my eyes widen at his question, "wha-what about stiles ?"

"about how you like him" he says bluntly.

the air seems to thicken around us and I choke on it, "I don't like stiles, Scott, at least not in the way that you're suggesting" I said, trying my best to sound uninterested

he raises an eyebrow at me "so if I told you he was going to ask Lydia on a date, you wouldn't be jealous ?"

"no... no of course not. I'd be pleased, actually, I mean c'mon he's had a crush on the girl since third grade!" the bell rings but Scott ignored it, adamant to carry on this conversation and draw out a confession from me "so it's just a coincidence that your heartbeat rises whenever he's around ?" he pressed

"yeah, I guess so" I looked at him, annoyance filling my body “Scott, just leave it alone, I don’t like stiles okay? I’m already having a bad day, I don’t need you to make it worse” an uncomfortable silence enveloped us after that and I immediately regretted saying it. he was avoided meeting my eyes

"look, Scott, I didn't-" suddenly I hear coach Finstock behind us, yelling at Scott about being late, once we've apologised to coach i try and slip away down the hall, but a gentle hand grabs my arm

"meet me after school," my friend quickly tries to tell me and it's my turn to say nothing,

"McCall! y/l/n! class. now."

As i reach English lit my phone buzzes, i fish it out of my bag once i’m sat down in my seat next to Kira, my heart drops as i read the name across my screen, Stiles Stilinski, i unlock the device and find a few missed texts from the boy. 2:42 '’hey y/n, you still want a ride home later ?’ 3:00 'Scott mentioned you were a little upset in chem today ?’ 3:01 'talk to me late, alright ?' 3:01 'xx' i feel Kira nudge my shoulder, 'you okay ?' she mouths at me and i nod and smile like i did with Scott, except this time, she believes me and we carry on with the work…

All throughout English, I couldn’t think. My mind was racing my heart and my heart was winning.

I need to tell Stiles how I feel about him. Even if Stiles didn’t like me, it was worth a shot. I needed to get this out, I needed to get over him. I just needed to figure out when and where.

As soon as the bell goes i'm out the door, barely giving Kira a proper goodbye. Scott appears in front of me again, a somewhat serious look on his face.

"can i help you ?" i asked, in no mood to actually help him

"are you gonna tell stiles you like him ?" He stopped me from walking

my brows furrowed as i look down at my feet, now feeling doubtful of my plan, "i...don't know"

I look back up at him, his face is softer, "i think you should hold off on it for now" he got out of my way so we could both walk

"that's so not what i was expecting you to say, Scott, I thought you wanted me to tell him” I replied with the slightest amount of aggression

"i just mean that... well stiles has been through a lot lately and i think he deserves this date with Lydia" he paused and I felt my heart drop to my stomach, "you said it yourself, he's liked her since third grade"

"okay, i won't say anything" my tone dismissive,

"y/n i'm not trying to be a dick, i just don't think the time's right. He really likes her, you know.”

“And you don't me to ruin it? Because that’s all I do, right?” I felt anger take over my body

I walk towards the double doors leading out to the parking lot. i head for pale blue jeep and see stiles already there waiting for me, a large grin growing on his face as he notices me.

oh, there's no way i'm surviving the ride home

"heyyy y/n/n" he’s about to hug me but i stop a few steps in front of him.

a confused look plastered on his face, "hey stilinski! i'm real sorry to make you wait but i think i'm gonna walk home today" he tilts his head and looks like he’s searching for the right words "...thought i'd enjoy the weather, you know ?" we both look up at the grey clouds looming above us

“You sure? It looks like it might rain..” He started

“Yeah, I like the rain” I smiled, and continued walking back home.

It was sprinkling by the time I got back home and I was thankful that I wasn’t drenched. I changed out of the clothes I was wearing and into something more comfortable.

I started thinking about what scott had said about stiles and how I should wait to tell him.

I don’t want to wait

It was for the best if I waited to tell him and I knew it’d just mess things up between us. My thoughts were interrupted by loud knocks on the door and the doorbell ringing incessantly. I walked from my room and opened the door.

I opened the door to Sarah “Y/n, i told you to meet to meet me after school? What happened? Was it stiles?” She asked, my eyes widened at stiles causing her to launch into even more questions, “oh my god it was stiles! Can i come in? What’d he do? You have to tell me” she pushed past me and into the living room

“He didn’t do anything okay? I just talked to Scott in chem. And he told me that stiles is gonna ask Lydia out on a date and that I should wait to tell stiles anything because of it.” I closed the door and flopped on the couch

“Wow. that fucking sucks” Sarah paused, thinking of a solution, “well, I heard there’s a party tonight since it’s Friday, you know, maybe we should go”

“What if stiles is there” i whined

“Who cares? We can get super drunk and make out with boys we won’t remember” she sat down on the couch by my feet

“You have to stay sober though” I sat up, thinking of the possibilities

“Why?” she retorted, but realizing someone would have to be the mom, “fine, whatever, but I’m gonna be pissed if you waste this night y/n”

“I won’t” I shook my head furiously, “when should we leave?”

“Not for a few hours, it’s still light outside, unless you want to be extremely early” She picked up the TV remote and started flipping through channels

Sarah drove us to the house where the party was, cars were parked up and down the block as people gravitated to the loud music.

“Who’s throwing this party? There’s so many people” I looked out the window

“I don’t know, but it looks awesome” she parked the car a few houses down

“Good thing we aren’t dressed up” I laughed noticing the rain as it got heavier. We almost matched in leggings and pullover hoodies, “Should we have dressed up?”

“Are you kidding? Why would we dress up for some high school? No one cares” She flipped the mirror in front of her down and fixed her hair

“No one cares? Why are you fixing your hair?” I teased and she flashed a glare. “Are we good?” she nodded, i put my phone in my hoodie pocket and my hood on, prepared to brave the pouring rain. We crossed the street running, trying to avoid getting wet. We got to the door and entered the house.

“y/n help me find the kitchen” Sarah tugged my arm into the crowd of dancing people. We trudged through the dry-hump orgy and barely made it to the kitchen. There were people lining the counters leaving the island, which was decked out in snacks and alcohol. Sarah handed me a red plastic cup filled with a mixture of drinks

“What is this?” I asked, looking up at her from the cup

“Something to get your mind off of who just walked in with his date” She looked through the kitchen entrance and into the living room

“Who just-” i turned my head to see the one and only Stiles Stilinski with his arm around Lydia, “shit”

“Yeah, drink up” she lifted my hand up from its relaxed state so my drink was closer to my lips. I downed the whole drink as fast as I could as Sarah looked at me with concern. I waved to her for another drink. She handed me a cup of something I could only assume was beer. Sarah looked at me, her eyes wild with excitement, “tonight’s gonna be fun” she giggled

“Yeah, whatever” I mumbled and sipped on my drink.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” Stiles voice came from behind me

“Hey, Stiles!” I turned around to see he was alone, “What are you doing here?” I heard Sarah sigh loudly

“It’s a, uh, party?” He looked at me, “Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m great” I lied, feeling the effects of whatever Sarah gave me only minutes ago, “Sarah, let’s dance!” I grabbed her hand, pushing past stiles and lead Sarah into the living room.

We’d been at the party for only a couple of hours and I was drunk. I wasn’t totally

“Hey! Sarah” I shouted over the music, “I think I’m gonna tell stiles!” she dragged me through the kitchen and outside, it wasn’t raining anymore but it was still humid

“What? Y/N, you’re not thinking right now. You’re drunk and you’re gonna regret telling him tomorrow” she said

“I'm not that drunk okay?” she huffed, “and I am thinking, i think it’s a great idea and I’m gonna regret a lot of things tomorrow anyways, who cares?” i was more drunk than sober but I was sober nonetheless

“Whatever you say, but I’m not gonna listen when you come moping to me tomorrow” she turned around to go back inside and I followed. Stiles was standing in the kitchen talking to a few other people

“Stiles” I stopped, “I need to talk to you” I felt my stomach twist at the thought of telling him how i felt

“Yeah, okay” He excused himself from the conversation, “what is it?” he turned towards me

STILES’S POV

I set my cup on the counter and gave Y/N my full attention. My hands found her waist and her arms rested on mine. She looked up at me, her eyes were running rampant with emotion.

“Is it about earlier? I asked Scott and he wouldn’t tell me-” I started

“Can we go somewhere more private?” she asked.

“Yeah, we can find a bedroom or something.” I said, taking her hand and leading her through the crowd and upstairs. We found a room that wasn’t occupied, it looked like it might’ve been whoever’s party this was’ parents. I sat on the edge of the bed but y/n remained “y/n is everything okay?” I asked

“No, everything is terrible.” She started pacing

I paused, trying to think of something to say. “Why is that?” I

“Well, Scott told me not to tell you this, but I can’t keep this a secret from you anymore. Stiles, I really like you and I have for a really long time” she explained, “Scott didn’t want me to tell you this, everyone’s been telling me to keep it a secret, because of Lydia and I know you really like her, but I really like you and I’ve been wanting to tell you-”

I felt my stomach turn at her words. When I figured out i didn’t have a chance with Lydia, I started liking her, but then Lydia made it seem like I had actually had a chance and i was taking it. I didn’t know how to tell y/n any of this because it was so much, especially with Lydia.

“Y/N, it’s okay” I stood up and took her hands in mine. I looked into her eyes, realizing how beautiful they really were, “I like you too”

“You do?” her eyebrows stitched together, her tone was a mix of surprise and confusion. I realized what I said and that it was too late to turn back.

“Yeah, I’ve been really conflicted, between you and Lydia. I didn’t think you liked me, and I thought Lydia did” I was saying the words without thinking, I never would’ve said this had I been sober “Stiles…” She paused as she straddled my lap. “Just shut up and kiss me.” She ordered as her hands found my hair and pulled me forward to connect our lips.

I could taste the alcohol on her tongue as she invaded my mouth, my body becoming more intoxicated by the moment but not from the alcohol, from her taste that I was finally able to discover. I didn’t fight and I didn’t want to. This sensation was new and I’m fairly certain that I was forming an addiction to her. I slowly lowered myself down onto the mattress, Y/N following, still hovered over me. My hands slid down to her ass, squeezing and earning a moan from her that sent vibrations through our mouths.

“I want you.” I heard her whine as her lips travelled down my jawline to my neck.

“A-are you sure? I mean I just don-” I was cut off mid sentence by the feeling of her smaller palm cupping the growing bulge in my pants. She removed her hand, causing me to whine from the lost contact, to swiftly take off the hoodie that was covering her torso and exposed a bra that made her tits look perfect. I bit my lip, examining her now exposed upper body.

“I. Want. You. Stiles.” She emphasized each word as her eyes stared deep into mine.

I flipped her over so that I was now above her and crashed our lips back together while she fiddled the buttons on my jeans. My fingers hooked into her leggings and pulled them down just enough to gain more access to the place I desired most. My fingers grazed over her clothed sex and her back arched at the sudden feeling. I smirked down at her before we both helped each other get our pants off. I pushed my confined erection down onto her growing wetness through her panties, thrusting upwards a few times. She dove her hand into my boxers and took out my hard cock, stroking it.

“Wait, wait, Stiles. I don’t have a condom.” She pouted.

“I’ll pull out?” I shrugged.

“Okay.” She giggled before pulling me back down to kiss her.

I pushed her panties to the side and slowly slid into her, giving her some time to adjust. She gripped onto my biceps, wincing in pain before I froze and waited for a signal to continue. After a few moments, she nodded and I started to thrust in and out of her at a slow pace. Her eyes rolled back into her head and I decided that was the perfect time speed up my pace, causing the sound of skin slapping to echo throughout the bedroom we occupied.

“St-Stiles...I’m close. Fuck…” She let out a breathy moan as her nails dug into my arms, leaving small scratches.

“Come for me, baby.” As if on queue, I felt her walls clench around me as her moans began louder.

“Oh god…” I moaned while I quickly pulled out of her and spilled my seed onto her bare stomach.

We rode down from our highs and just stared at each other for a minute. I grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and wiped away the mess I made on Y/N, tossing the tissue into the trash next to the bed. We both hopped off of the bed and redressed. Y/N went into the bathroom that was connected to the bedroom to probably fix her hair and look like we didn’t just have sex. I sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, running through the events that just happened. I was drawn out of my mind by a knock on the door.

“Stiles, are you in there. It’s Lydia.” A voice ran from beyond the door.

“Fuck.” I groaned and fell back onto the bed with my face in my hands.

#stiles stilinski #teenwolf #stiles x reader #mieczyslaw stilinski #dylan o'brien

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callmeblake · 7 years

Photo

New Interview on Rock Cult (X)

This was in Russian and I had to translate with google. Some things translated great and some things....did not. I fixed some of what I could figure out.

Frank Iero: “I have never wanted to be a frontman" By Ivan Balashov and Lana Alterova 04/03/2017

Frank Iero, the ex-guitarist of My Chemical Romance and many other leading various projects, returns to Russia. This time - with his group Frank Iero And The Patience. On the eve of Russian concerts, we talked to Frank about his work, look at the development of the musician and personality, as well as the secrets of the basement recordings.

Rock Cult: Tell us about your new album Parachutes. What are its new features would you highlight? What is he talking about?

Frank: I think that as an artist, you're sure you get to some of the peaks, every ten years or so. And if you're lucky, you will reach several peaks, and for me, this album definitely became one of them. Perhaps I am proud of them more than any other in their work. The process of composing and recording of the album was very tiring, he had exhausted me, but he also became my real reward. I think if now someone asks me, "Can you show me what you're doing, and to reduce it to a single album," I'll put it this record.

Rock Cult: As far as we know, you wrote Stomachaches almost alone, except drums. Parachutes was recorded in the same situation, and other musicians were included in the process?

Frank: Yes, Stomachaches was one of my projects, hobbies. I did not think that the material was ready to record, so it was just sitting in my basement and continued to work. But the drums I could not write, so I asked my friend if he could come and play with me. So my friend, Jarrod Alexander (ex-drummer of My Chemical Romance - Ed.). Came to the party and recorded live drums. But yes, for the most part I composed and wrote all alone in the studio in my basement. But Parachutes I wrote together with my brother Evan Nestor and my good friend Matt Olsson. For a while we toured together, and when I decided to start recording, it made sense to make it a living, breathing human beings, you know what I mean. Especially cool (at least for me) was that this time I was able to see how ideas come to life instantly, and do not line up with the "figures". There is something special about that when you play with other musicians in the same room, instead of doing it all alone at the computer. Songs like start breathing - they move and dance with you. It's a special feeling, it does not simulate digital technology. And in general, this time we played all the songs live in the studio, and then recorded a whole bunch of tracks together in the same room. I think you will hear the difference when listening. You can feel it. Especially if you have heard both records in a row - a colossal difference between the two.

Rock Cult: Tell me, what is the difference Projects Frank Iero and the Patience, and why it has taken for the project to come up with another name?

Frank: I think a group faces this problem every time you go into the studio - they come to write the song, more and more growing as artists in comparison to what they were at the very beginning - grow, change and evolve as musicians and as individuals . So, when you come out of the studio - you are a different person. Your songs sound different, your band sounds different, and even fun, that you are still called by the same. I always thought that it is very difficult to catch this "time of the first album." Group finds something totally new, a sense of the urgent need for something, electrification - the fact that you can lose for the fifth-sixth album. For me it's always been a kind of a trap. And people always want to find this same feeling. Like I will always have my name, I will always be my songs that I write, and I will always have my "solo project" in quotes. I need to show what I wanted to say this record, what I need at this moment of my life. And at first I wanted to give people a sense of celebration. The feeling that would be able to draw from my lack of confidence in their ability to manage public. And that's why I needed the group The Cellabrations, and everything worked perfectly. Now I feel that I do not need that as much, everything was so different, and I was like, "Okay, it's time to change this and think what I need at the moment." I felt that I lack the ability to be patient. I need to take a step back, learn to appreciate what I have and what's around me.

Rock Cult: Was it difficult to be the frontman and vocalist, after many years in My Chemical Romance?

Frank: I never wanted this. I never wanted to be a front man (laughs).

Rock Cult: Yes, but still became one (general laughter). So, it was it difficult for you with this?

Frank: Definitely. I think that the things that most impresses me, seem worthy of reward, always scare the hell out of me. These are the things that I most likely could not do it, so I just have to dive in headfirst. Either you himself prophesied failure, failures and get out of this some life lesson, or you prove yourself that nothing doubted and will be rewarded for bravery. I never planned to be the one to attract the public attention in the group. I just like being in a band. Throughout my life, I discovered myself as a singer or a guitarist singing only because it was more to do to no one. And I was like, "Well, I want to be in a band so much that I think I'll go for it - because no one else will" (laughs). But now I am writing all these songs, and it seems to me unnatural to force them to sing for someone else. That would be hypocrisy. I think I have done so, it would be no better than if I hid. Type: "Do it or Stop whining already."

Rock Cult: You're still working with James Dewees (ex-keyboardist My Chemical Romance - Ed.), Right? Tell me about it, how to work with him?

Frank: James - a good man, I love him very much. We've been friends for a very long time. Actually, when I last visited Russia, James and I were there together and played a couple of shows with the project Death Spells. And I am very happy that our album was released in the summer. I love this record. I think this is one of those projects that you just cannot not do it. And to have the opportunity to work with artists such as James, who I admire most of his adult life music - it's just an incredible opportunity. It's great to have around such a person, call him a friend and enjoy his company. He is good, damn good. Soon, by the way, he will start working on new songs of his project Reggie and the Full Effect.

Rock Cult: By the way, the album Nothing Above, Nothing Below. If you love him so much, then you will have something to talk about it. Why did you decide that the first album, Death Spells must be released precisely in 2016, and not before? After all, you are doing the project as early as 2012-2013.

Frank: We started writing music together just in time - in 2013. We toured a bit, and then planned to make our full DS project and record the songs for the album, but as you know, in life had other plans. I was the possibility to write and record songs, and James was writing Reggie album and touring in support of it. It's funny, if you look at our tour schedules, you will notice that just when Reggie was not the show were performances Death Spells. We have supported the life of the project, we always talked and wrote to each other. Like, "Hey, I think we definitely have something to do with it." Finally, James shoved me in the spring of 2016: "We just have to finish the record, and that's that." I was like, "Well, OK," but by the time we decided to finish the job, I was already in the process of recording Parachutes. And I was worried that not cope with both tasks, but in reality it has helped me. Because I literally struggled like a fish on the ice, working on Parachutes, and I felt that the only way to end it was the completion of the album, Death Spells. I always thought that between projects and records of what I did, something was missing - not only thematically, but in terms of lyrics. And this is definitely the bridge was on the record. It seems that being a fan of what I do, for me it was very important to hear this album. And I am very glad to see him. I think that everything happens for a reason - because if that record came out early, and we have ended up with everything, it is unlikely it would have had such weight, it is unlikely it was so good. Sometimes things happen so.

Rock Cult: Could you name the one most important to you personally, the song of each project?

Frank: Oh, damn ...

Rock Cult: Yeah (laughter)

Frank: Oookeeeey ... Important for me the songs from each project ... Hmmm ... I think it will be off Parachutes ... the last track of the album, 9-6-15 - This song is about my grandfather. From Stomachaches ... Probably, or Stage 4 Fear of Trying, or Of Death Spells ... Ummm ... I will name End Of Life. From Leathermouth it is ... maybe, Bodysnatchers 4 Ever. And from Chem ... Ummm ... (thinks for a long time)

Rock Cult: A feeling that I'll torment. (laugh)

Frank: Hmm ... Maybe ... I'm not sure can, Early Sunsets Over Monroeville. In my opinion, it was my very first song written for the group. Well, I have more projects that you do not know, so I'm not going to talk about them.

Rock Cult: Secret projects, you say? Sounds cool! Many musicians now occupy positions against Donald Trump or for him, releasing albums on this topic. Do you have plans to do something similar?

Frank: The world is changing, again came the hard times. And I believe that you need to do everything possible in order to draw attention to issues of humanity and sincere love. These are the things that need to be supported. And I think that it is time to remind people of the artists, which means to be human. And so I take every opportunity to do so, which I only podvernёtsya*.

Rock Cult: About your upcoming tour in Russia - this time you come in far more cities than ever. What can we expect?

Frank: Yes, that's just one of those "expect the unexpected". I think we will have a fantastic tour. We play in a variety of cities. It is the largest Russian tour that I have ever played with any of my projects - and in fact I have been several times to Russia. I am very grateful to the opportunity to do it again.

Rock Cult: Would you like to say something to your fans among our readers?

Frank: What is the ultimate truth, so is that every time I have visited your country with each of my projects, all the shows and the people who came to these shows were incredible. As anywhere in the world. And I look forward to when I can see all the other cities and other places, which I name, perhaps even barely able to utter. I want to get acquainted with the culture of these places and in return bring to my music and culture. I would like to thank you for your love and support for all these years. I appreciate that you are listening to my songs. I look forward to the opportunity to meet and play for you.

#frank iero #frank iero and the patience #rock cult #if you can help me with the words or phrases google got confused by please do #russian #march 2017 #2017

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