#for answering my question about the adidas drop

[gaykornography]

gaykornography just got the purple adidas jacket

#lots of mental breakdowns but I got it #jonathan davis #jonathan davis korn #korn #I GOT IT AT kornwebstore.com or whatever #the official korn site got everything btw #korn band #gaykornography #:3 #also thank you user are-we-really-doing-this #for answering my question about the adidas drop #korn x adidas #adidas

[bloatedandalone04]

Lips of an Angel

➪the one where ethan falls in love with you from the moment he saw you. (requested)

Warnings: blood, mentions of blood, death, mentions of death, character death, angst AF, you've been warned, this is really sad, happy endings don't exist here, oh and swearing

Word Count: 4.2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

It started at a party.

Well, actually it started with a tap on the shoulder from Quinn.

Ethan turned around and greeted his ‘friend’ with a smile and a nod of his head. When he turned his body to the figure beside her, he was sure his heart skipped a beat. Y/e/c eyes met his and instantly he was drawn to you. In one quick movement, he rid himself of the knight headpiece and held it in his hand, watching as your eyes took him in. 

He did the same to you, looking you up and down and sucking in a breath at your attire. The dark red skirt you wore matched the cropped shirt, the linings a pure white fabric. Across your chest was the word ‘CHEER’ and if that didn’t make your costume obvious enough, the high ponytail and adidas you wore surely did. 

“Ethan, this is my friend, Y/n. Remember when I told you about her?” Quinn asked, giving him a look and right away he felt his chest tighten. You were the friend that had gotten too caught up in the lives of Tara and Mindy? You were the one she was planning on killing some time before she gets to do the same to the sisters? 

“Yeah,” he hesitantly answered her, returning her look with wide eyes. “Yeah, I remember.”

You stood between the friends, rocking awkwardly on your heels. “Y/n, this is Ethan,” Quinn finished the introduction, pushing you towards him. “And he’s going to hang out with you tonight while I go back home and….busy myself.”

Ethan gave her a disgusted look but quickly covered it up by clearing his throat. “We’ll talk later, right?” He held eye contact with her and she squinted at him before giving him a tight lipped smile. 

“Yeah, sure,” she hummed before turning to you, placing a hand on your arm. “Have fun! I’ll see you later.”

It was clear that this was part of her plan. She wasn’t dressed in a costume, with the exception of the black cape she wore over a red tank top and dark jeans, so she wasn’t there for the party. She came with you just so she can dump you on him so she could go back home and have a night alone with her boyfriend. 

Ethan turned back to you, making you quickly look away from him in hopes you didn’t get caught checking him out. He noticed, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead he held his free hand out to you, grinning at your shyness. “It’s nice to meet you,”

When you looked up at him again, you let your tense shoulders drop and took his hand. You can’t help but notice the size difference, how his hand covered yours completely, and it sets butterflies loose all over your body. “Nice to meet you,”

Unbeknownst to you, Ethan also noticed just how small you were compared to him, and that by itself was enough to make him feel the overwhelming need to protect you and put a stop to his sister’s plans.

-

It continued with quiet begs.

Behind Quinn’s closed door, he stood in front of where she sat on her bed, looking up at him with crossed arms. “This wasn’t part of the plan, Ethan,”

“Change the plan,” he said desperately, covered from his shoulders down by the black robe. “Please, Quinn, don’t touch her. Please.”

His sister rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. “You’re such a boy,” she muttered. “Falling for the first girl who shows interest in you.”

Ethan held back the snarky reply that nearly slipped out and instead waited for her to continue, a hopeful glint in his eyes. 

She saw the desperation on his face and groaned again, giving in. “Fine,” she muttered. “I suppose she is the only person I can tolerate in the group. But what will you do if she finds out that you’re one of the killers?”

Ethan’s whole body tenses up at the question. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. What would he do if you found out the truth about him? “I’ll figure it out,” he waved it off and stepped closer to her, playing it up as if that was the least of his worries, when in reality, the thought of you seeing this side of him terrified him. “But promise me you’ll leave her alone.”

“I said fine,” she repeated, pushing herself into a lying position. “But you better find a way to convince dad, too. That’s all on you.”

Ethan thanked her and grabbed the mask from where it was hidden in a bag beside the bed. “Are you ready?” He asks, holding the worn out mask in his hands.

Quinn nodded but before she got into position she sat up quickly, giving him a stern look. “Make sure you rough her up a bit,” she said and Ethan shook his head almost immediately. 

“What? No,”

“Yes, you have to make it believable,” she pressed, laying back down on the pillows while grabbing her phone. “If she’s the only one who is left untouched after tonight, it’ll draw too much attention.”

Ethan processed her words. She was right, but he didn’t think he would be able to bring himself to cause any harm to you, let alone make you bleed. 

Quinn sensed this and sighed. “Look, it doesn’t have to be too hard or too much,” she said, trying to ease him into it. “Just…cut her a bit. Make sure she bleeds just enough to not bring attention to her.”

At that, Ethan hesitantly nodded and gave his sister a tight lipped smile before putting the mask on.

-

What followed were subtle hints. 

Class was done for the day, and you decided to not waste the rest of it indoors and hiding from the killer. 

Instead, you wanted to be surrounded by people so you had a less likely chance of getting caught, or killed. 

You were in the park, a couple of books opened in front of you on the picnic table. Studying was hard to do before this mess, and it proved to be even harder to do during it. 

Sitting across from you was Ethan, who had never felt  more tense and nervous in his entire life. He also had a few books open in front of him, but unlike you, he wasn’t paying any attention to them at all. 

His eyes were on you while his leg bounced under the table, his nerves beginning to eat him alive.

As you skimmed through the physics textbook, attempting to distract yourself from what was set to happen tonight, you didn’t glance up at your boyfriend, who was becoming paler by the second. 

Later in the evening, you, Tara, Ethan, Sam, Mindy, Chad and Kirby were planning on locking Ghostface in the old theater and executing him or her. To say you were terrified would be an understatement, but you were trying to keep your cool and remain as calm as possible.

Ethan, however, could no longer keep quiet. “I don’t want you to come tonight,” he said, making you look up at him with furrowed brows. 

His words took you by surprise and you slowly closed the book, sliding it to the side as you gave him your full attention. “Why?”

“You could get hurt,” it was a stupid excuse. Everyone would likely be getting hurt tonight, including him, but he couldn’t think of another reason. He knew you and he knew you wouldn’t leave your friends to fight this battle by themselves, but that didn’t stop him from asking you to skip this one out. 

“You could get hurt, too,” you point out, proving to him that his excuse was pretty much invalid. “We could all get hurt, or worse.”

Ethan shakes his head quickly, putting his hands on the table as the frustration begins to take over his body. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, looking around at the other students that paid the couple no mind. “If something happens to you tonight, something that I could’ve prevented…I don’t know what I’d do.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching over and placing one of your hands on his. “Ethan,” you sigh his name, making his chest tighten at the fact that he was fighting a losing battle. “I feel that way about you, too. It terrifies me to think that one of us could die tonight, let alone get hurt. Think of it this way; if I asked you to stay home tonight, would you?”

I can’t he answered in his head. I have to make sure my sister doesn’t kill you. 

At his lack of response, you squeeze his hand, bringing it up to your mouth and kissing the back of it. “We just need to stick together, okay?”

Ethan held your hand tighter and nodded, fully prepared to do anything in his power to stop you from getting on that subway train with him.

-

What happened next was a massive fail on his part.

In his attempt to split you up from the rest of the group, he accidentally split up Mindy as well. Now he was ten minutes behind the others, with you tucked protectively under his arm, and Mindy a fair distance away from the two of you as her suspicion of him seemed to grow by the minute. 

The flickering lights did nothing to calm your racing heart. You tuck yourself further under Ethan’s arm, needing to feel protected for just a minute or two before you throw yourself in the lion’s den. Except in this case, it was a locked theater and instead of a lion, it was a cold blooded killer. 

A few minutes passed, and once Mindy moved another meter or so away from the two of you, Ethan leaned down so his mouth was right next to your ear. “It’s almost time,” he informed you. “Last chance to do me the biggest favor ever by not getting off with us at the stop.”

When he pulls back, you chase after him and connect your lips in a chaste kiss. It only lasted a few seconds before you’re pulling away and nudging your forehead against his. “I’m staying,” you tell him for what you hoped would be the final time. 

The lights continued to flicker and you noticed that they stayed off for a bit longer than usual, making you furrow your brows. Just as you were about to question what the hell was wrong with them, Ethan was pulling away from you with a curse leaving his mouth. 

You watch as he rushes towards a bleeding Mindy, wrapping his arm around her and helping her stand up. He takes her off the train and sits her against a beam, calling out for someone to call 911. 

All while this was happening, he finally realized that you were no longer next to him. This makes him look up in sheer panic, his eyes meeting yours as you back further into the train. 

In your mind, he was safer here than he would be with you. He would be with Mindy, both of them far away from the killer who would be at the theater. This was you protecting him.

Within seconds Ethan was standing up and bolting it to the closing doors, leaving Mindy with no hesitation. They successfully separated you from him and you give him a sad smile once it begins moving again. He yells something to you and starts to chase after it, ultimately losing sight of it as it disappeared in the darkness. 

“Fuck,” he yelled, tugging on his hair before taking off in a sprint to the nearest staircase. 

-

It ended in blood. 

A lot of it. 

You watch in horror as the killer stabbed Chad repeatedly in the chest, arms and back before letting his body fall to the floor. When they turned to you, Sam grabbed both yours and Tara’s hands as she began to run back towards the shrine. 

There, you run into Kirby, who you had lost all trust for due to what Bailey had told you about her history. “One of them knocked me out,” she struggled to say as she moved closer. Your heart fell at the mention of there being more than one killer, but could you really trust her words? Before she could continue, she raised her gun and pointed it behind the three of you, aiming directly for Bailey. “What are you doing?”

“Did you kill Quinn?” He asked, copying her stance and pointing his own gun at her. “Did you kill my daughter?”

“Jesus Christ,” Kirby yelled, tears gathering in her eyes as she looked between you, Tara and Sam. “Whatever he’s been saying to you, don’t listen to him. He’s probably the killer.”

As soon as she said that, Ghostface runs up behind him and Kirby screams at Bailey in a warning, one he doesn’t believe as he shoots her twice without hesitating. The killer stopped beside him, looking at him through the mask. “Great job,” he said as another Ghosface stood to his left. “Both of you.”

“You?” Tara asked, hearing him snicker in response. 

“Of course,” he said. “I expected more from you after what you did to us.” 

“Us?” Sam questions and watches as the person to his right took off their mask, or rather, took off her mask. 

At the sight of Quinn being alive and well, you all stood in shock as she smirked. “You look surprised,”

“Yeah, because you died,” Tara gasped.

“I kinda didn’t, though,” she said and looked at the remaining killer, glaring at the mask they wore. “Thanks for taking so long, by the way. I had to kill Chad all by myself. I thought you were looking forward to doing that.”

Both you and the sisters, as well as Bailey and Quinn waited for them to take the mask off and reveal their identity, something you wish you could’ve prepared yourself for. 

Raising their hands, the person takes the mask off and the face behind it has your heart falling to the floor, tears flooding your eyes and all the air leaving your body. “Ethan?” Tara said in shock and the name triggered the first of many tears as they began falling down your face.

Shaking your head, you back away and drop the brick Sam gave you as a weapon, a silent sob ripping through your mouth. “No,”

While Quinn wore a proud smirk, Ethan wore the exact opposite. His eyes were clouded with guilt, his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensing up. He looked at the blood that covered your arm from when Quinn sliced a decent sized mark up your skin, your grey long sleeved shirt now a dark red. “Bet you didn’t see that one coming,” she teased, twirling the knife in her hand as Ethan stepped forward. 

“Y/n,” the sound of your name leaving his mouth had your eyes squeezing shut, making you miss the way Bailey’s arm reached out and stopped his son from going over to you. 

“Now, son,” he said, giving the younger man a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. “Don’t let a girl you hardly know take away your focus on the task at hand.”

Quinn gave her brother a nod, walking around their dad to place her hands on his shoulders. “He’s right, Eth,” she pressed her fingers into his tense shoulders. “She’s not worth it. I told you that she never was.”

“No,” Ethan said it in the same tone you did, shaking his head and closing his eyes. 

Quinn inhaled angrily, looking between her two family members. “You can’t save her, Ethan,” she dropped her comforting voice and began to speak more sternly. “She’s as dead as those two bitches beside her.”

Sam glared at her while Tara reached her hand back, signaling for you to take it. You did, refusing to look at the three killers in front of you while the two sisters hid you behind them. “She has nothing to do with us,” Tara said, her eyes never leaving Bailey’s in case he made any sudden moves. “Leave her out of this.”

“Yeah, it’s us you want, right?” Sam asked and watched as both Bailey and Quinn nodded while Ethan remained still. “So leave her alone. Keep her out of this.”

Quinn laughed, stepping away from her brother and inching closer to the three of you. “You two are dumber than I thought,” she said, running her gloved finger over the blade. “Are you that stupid? She’s seen our faces. She knows us. She has to die, just like how the two of you have to.” 

“You’ll suffer for what you did to my boy,” Bailey says tearfully, finally showing another emotion besides rage. At Sam’s confused face, he continued. “You killed him.”

Sam’s eyes widened when she realized who he was talking about. “Richie?” 

The name makes Quinn’s face shift into a look of anger, while Ethan finally tears his eyes away from you to glance at Sam. “You killed my brother,” Quinn seethed. “And now I’m going to kill you.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she was rushing forward and slicing at Tara, who moved out of the way and instead made the knife cut through the skin of your other arm. 

Chaos broke out after that. Tara swung her arm up and slammed the brick into the side of Quinn’s face, knocking her to the ground instantly. Bailey pointed his gun at you once Sam ran to help her sister, but before he could pull the trigger, Ethan finally broke out of his daze and tackled his father to the ground, making him shoot up at the ceiling. 

The sound of a gun going off makes you jump and run to hide behind one of the benches, ducking down so you are out of sight. You really did have no business being involved in this.

Ethan and Bailey struggle for a moment before he is able to take the gun from his father and throw it towards the stage, making another shot go off that nearly hits Quinn. “Ethan, what the fuck?!” She yells at him, looking around for her brother and father. Her mouth was bleeding and the sight of a couple of her teeth on the ground had her seeing red. 

Bailey recovered a few seconds later and sat up, ready to scold his son on the betrayal. Except Ethan was no longer with him. 

The hand that covered your mouth made your eyes widened and you began thrashing around when you felt an arm wrap around your body. Ethan shushes you and you wish you felt as safe with him as you did on the train, but your shaking body gave away how you really felt. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to you and you shook your head, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and pulling his hand away from your mouth.

“You’re fucking crazy!” You whisper-yell at him. “You’re a fucking killer!”

“I know! I know, just, please,” he matched your tone and peeked his head up, seeing that his sister and father were looking for him, knives held tightly in their hands. “Please, believe me when I say I was never, ever going to hurt you. It wasn’t part of the plan.”

“The plan?” Your eyes widened even more as you tried to push his arm off you. It was a failed attempt as he was a lot stronger than you, and his body was running on pure adrenaline at the reality that you no longer trusted him. “This was all part of some fucking plan? What, you were supposed to make me think that you’re a good guy just so you could stab me in the back?”

“No! No, baby, please, listen to me,” he reached up to brush your hair out of your face, turning your head so you were looking in his eyes. “I could never hurt you, I’d never do that. I had to convince Quinn to leave you alone because I fell in love with you and the thought of you getting hurt was enough to drive me insane.”

“There’s no driving you insane, Ethan,” you muttered. “You’re already fucking insane.” Before you could get any other words out, you were grabbed by your arm and thrown to the floor, your head hitting off the edge of a display case. 

“Fuck,” Ethan cursed as he stood up and watched as his dad towered over you. He lifted you into the air by your neck, making you choke out raspy breaths. Your hands wrap around his arm as your legs begin to kick at anything they could, your eyes widening at the interrupted air flow. “Dad, stop!”

Ethan ran over to the display case that held the knife Charlie used on Kirby, his heart falling to the floor at the thought of what he had to do next. 

You let out a strangled scream when he plunged a knife into your stomach, your nails digging into his arm. It didn’t seem to faze him at all as he retracted the knife and was about to stab you again before his own eyes widened in shock at the searing burn in his side. 

He let go of you, making you fall to the floor in pain as he turned to face Ethan, who pulled the knife out of his side. “Y-you?” Bailey muttered, betrayal lacing his voice. 

Ethan didn’t reply as he lifted the knife again, this time shoving it deep into his father’s neck, and watched as he fell to his knees. Bailey mumbled something that was incoherent before falling on his side with blood beginning to pool around him.

“Ethan!” Quinn called from her place on the balcony with Sam and Tara. “What did you do?!” 

He looked up at her with guilt in his eyes before Sam picked up the gun and shot her in the head, successfully killing her. Ethan quickly looked away and back at you, who was leaning against the side of the bench, your hands pressing against your stomach. At the sight of your blood seeping through your fingers, Ethan made a move to rush over to you, not noticing that Kirby was slowly getting up and reaching for her gun.

When she saw his fast movements towards a bleeding and crying you, she fired the gun and shot him in the chest. He stopped instantly, his hands coming up to press against the hole in his chest as he fell to his knees, identical to how his father fell just moments before. 

Your eyes fill with tears once more when you realized what happened, and they meet his for a brief second before he falls onto his back. “No,” you whispered, wincing at the pain you felt when you began crawling to him. “No, no no no, Ethan.”

You collapse next to him, watching as tears form in his eyes and his still glove-covered hand weakly reaches out to you. You grab it, lacing your fingers together and holding your joined hands close to your chest. “I’m so..I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, blood beginning to pool in his mouth. 

With your freehand, you reach up to brush away the curls that rested against his forehead, sniffling quietly. “Thank you,” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe his racing heart. “For saving my life.”

Ethan let a single tear fall as he watched you cry above him. “It was easy, falling for you. I could’ve loved you forever,” he managed to say as he felt all his energy leave his body. His words make even more tears fall as you remain silent, tightening your hold on his hand. “It wouldn’t have been long enough.” 

His voice was quiet, but it wasn’t as quiet as Tara and Sam, who watched from above with pity. It also wasn’t quiet enough so that Kirby, who was sitting on the steps of the stage with the slightest bit of remorse in her eyes, couldn’t hear him. 

As soon as the words left his mouth, a bit of blood dripped from his lips as his head fell to the side and his eyes closed. You squeezed his hand in yours, leaning down to press your head against his chest as you cried silently.

Sam grabs Tara’s hand as they walk towards the stairs, knowing exactly how you were feeling. Her heart hurt for you as you were a lot younger than her and still had to go through what she did not too long ago.

Minutes passed before you lifted your head and looked at the lifeless face of your now ex-boyfriend. A few more tears leave your eyes as you place his hand on his stomach, forcing yourself to let go of it afterwards, and caressing the side of his face. 

For a final goodbye, you lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, and wiped away the single tear that rolled down his face when you pulled away.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagines #scream 6 ethan #ethan scream 6 #scream 6 #scream 6 x reader #scream 6 imagines

[kamotecue]

Ooo we’re gonna need a KCC fic after her move to the arsenal

my heart has a little crush on you ✮ k. cooney-cross

pairing: kyra cooney-cross x reader

summary: it’s not a secret that you developed a small crush over a certain midfielder at the world cup, when you played against them. lioness!reader

warning(s): mentions of suicide.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“you’re absolutely joking?” you asked leah who gave you a small smirk that you desperately wanted to get rid of.

“i’m not kidding, l/n. kyra just signed a two year deal with arsenal, it seems you’d be seeing your crush sooner or later.” leah said. you haven’t checked your instagram yet, so you’ve heard from your skipper about kyra’s transfer.

despite leah not playing at the world cup, she was like an older sister figure for you. she’s the only one who knows about your crush on the australian midfielder.

“i’m absolutely screwed.” you said, as leah chuckled at your reaction.

“oh, come on l/n. it can’t be that bad?” you groaned as you thought about what happened at the world cup.

you had defeated the matildas in the semi-finals, when the whistle had blown you watched as your team celebrated. but you had taken the chance to comfort them, they did great after all, and the future is bright for the matildas.

you wanted to exchange shirts with kyra but when you were in front of her, you had tripped on the pitch sending the two of you to the ground.

“i accidentally tripped lee, sending both of us to the ground!” you yelled as leah grinned at you.

“but you still ended up getting the shirt.” you gave her a look, that was not the point. the point was your first interaction with her was bad, like really bad.

“yeah, it was still a mess.” you said, as she just shook her head.

it wasn’t that long before the team returned to london, after training at the adidas headquarters in germany.

you were late for the first time, as you swung open the door, you came face to face with leah who gave you teasing look.

“look who’s late.” katie teased giving you a grin, as you rolled your eyes at her behavior.

“it’s too early, mccabe.” you told the irish full-back as she snickered but held her hands up. you looked at lia who gave you a comforting smile, which you returned.

you removed your coat as it’s a bit chilly outside, not noticing a certain aussie behind you.

“you have a tattoo?” you accidentally had dropped your boots on your feet, a wince escaped your throat as lotte gave you a certain look.

you turned around coming face to face with the aussie who had been occupying your mind. she had a soft smile wore on her face, her dimples were shown which made you swoon.

“yeah, it’s the moon meets the stars.” you felt a lump in your throat as you cleared it. it wasn’t just a tattoo, there was a meaning behind it.

you felt leah’s eyes on you as she knew the meaning behind it. you didn’t like talking about it, because it reminded you about the past.

“is there a meaning behind it?” kyra asked, as you heard someone stood up abruptly.

“maybe one day, you’ll find out cooney-cross.” you said, as you pulled over the work out tank top that had the arsenal crest.

“alright guys, let’s head onto the pitch. it’s time for training.” kim said, as she entered the locker room clapping her hands. you gave kyra a small smile, before heading to leah who gave you a pat on the back.

throughout the whole training, you were a bit more quiet than usual. the team noticed it as you had a few sloppy shots on target, but had perfect first touches, you possessed the ball very well.

but they never scolded you for it, sure they gave you a look that you received, yet it was just that. as the training came to a break, you laid on the pitch. an arm was behind your neck, supporting it while your other arm was over your eyes, blocking the sun.

“are you alright, y/n?” kyra asked, as you removed the arm only to see her taking a seat beside you.

“i’m alright, you?” kyra gave you a soft nod, as she answered your question.

“i’m great, it’s a dream to be playing here.” you gave her a soft nod, understanding her. you couldn’t believe it when arsenal had offered you a three year contract, you currently have a year left once this season ends.

“i didn’t overstep, did i? when i asked you about the tattoo?” you shook your head, as you sat up straight.

“you didn’t, kyra don’t worry. the tattoo is for my bestfriend who died because she committed. i got this to honor her.” you said, as your voice broke at the end. kyra’s eyes widened.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know.” you chuckled, giving kyra a soft smile who looked a bit confused.

“it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. like you said you didn’t know.” she gave you a lopsided grin, as you tilted your head.

“would you perhaps want to go out one day?” kyra asked as you looked at her a bit confused.

“like on a date?” your eyes widened, as kyra gave you a small smile.

“when we were against each other, you caught my eyes. it was hard trying to not look at you.” kyra said, as you gave her a soft smile.

“i’d love to, you also did caught my eyes cooney-cross.” you said, as you spent the rest of the break making a small conversation, not noticing the way your teammates looked at you.

steph and caitlin were talking, as leah looked at you with a proud grin.

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross imagine #kyra cooney cross x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #arsenal wfc imagine

[httpspedri26]

Can u do an angst fic where pedri and (famous) reader meet in an event or smt and they get along great and he cant stop thinking abt her but one day gavi or one of his teammates brings her to a team gathering and introduces her as their gf.

Enchanted

Summary: this reminded me so much of “enchanted” by tay so I did just that

Pairings: pedri x famous!reader? Pablogavi x famous!reader

Angst

Pedri was in the new Adidas × Prada event he is going to be the new face of, he got to the event a little early not wanting to cause a bad impression with the two brands. He hoped people he knew were also coming, he didn't want to be alone.

" Hello" a soft angelic voice took Pedri out of his thoughts, he quickly shot the brown-eyed girl a soft smile

"Y/n" she extended her hand toward him

Y/n knew who Pedri was, she has been talking to his friend for quite some time now, Pablo Gavi.

"Pedri, nice to meet you" As they both shook hands y/n took a sit next to him. Pedri couldn't figure out where he had seen her before, your face was so familiar and so breathtaking.

As minutes pass the playful conversation started, and Pedri started to lose the tension he once felt as he got into the event.

Pedri felt a connection with y/n, a connection he hasn't felt with any other girl yet, as the hours passed pedri felt so wonderstruck by you that he could barely keep a full conversation.

Until it was time to say goodbye, Pedri knew he had to ask for your number, but he was too shy to do it, if Gavi was here he would've probably done it for him by now, but he wasn't, and he didn't want to make a fool out of himself if you said no.

Pedri was so wonderstruck by meeting y/n, that the whole way home all he could think about was her.

Hoping you weren't in love with somebody, hoping you didn't have anybody waiting on you.

As the days passed all that would cross Pedri's mind was you, and the lingering question, who do you love? He wondered til he was wide awake.

He wished he would've asked for your number, he looked you up on Instagram, but you had way too many followers it would be impossible for you to notice that he had followed you, or to even see his message

Today Gavi had invited the team, and a few of his friends from Sevilla to his house, even though Pedri didn't have the energy to go he didn't want to stay in the house alone, since Fernando, Pedri's brother decided to visit their family back in Tenerife, Pedri couldn't join him even though he would've loved to, football didn't allow him to.

As he got to Gavi's house he noticed the house was completely packed. Which made pedri groan as he threw his head back, he hated big crowds, he hated parties. He only went to parties when he was invited to one, not wanting to cause a bad impression on the person.

As Pedri went in, he was greeted by everyone, until he saw her.

She was sitting alone looking down at her phone, she looked up sometimes to pay attention to her surroundings, smiling at the people who passed by.

Pedri furrowed his eyebrows confused, on why she would be here, but also didn't waste any more time and started walking towards her.

"Y/n," he said loudly over the music, y/n looked up, smiling at the sight of Pedri.

"Pedri, Hi!“ y/n stood up from her chair embracing Pedri into a hug, but before he could say anything

Gavi appeared next to y/n

"Hermano! You're here" Gavi greeted his best friend while placing his arm around y/n's shoulders

Pedri felt his smile drop, his eyes scanning Gavi and y/n

“This is my girlfriend, y/n I told you about her remember?" Gavi asked screaming over the loud music.

Pedri nodded, with a fake smile taking over his face, that's when Pedri finally connected all the

dots, that's why she looked familiar the day they Met, That's why y/n sat next to him in the first place.

He felt his heart break a little at this whole situation, but at least he finally got the answer to his question

she did have someone waiting on her.

#pedri fluff #pedri #pedri imagine #pedri one shot #pedri fanfic #pedri angst #pedri x reader #pedri blurb #gavi #gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi x yn #gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablogavi blurb #pablo gavi blurb #football imagine #football #fc barcelona

[ladylooch]

Timo has a post game interview and Liv will not leave him so she’s just cuddled up to him while he dose post game interviews.

Livia Meier is done.

Done with this arena.

Done with standing next to her mom when her dad is right. There.

DONE with Lio getting to go into the locker room with her dad and uncle while she has to stay with mommy. 

So when mama isn’t looking, she books it. Her little legs pump hard as she weaves through the various clumps of adults waiting in the main gathering area, up the ramp, to the locker room door where a man stands in front.

“Hi, my daddy is in there.” She points. The security guard knows her, has seen her with Timo countless times throughout his long career in jersey.

“Okay, but where is your mama?”

“Um, down there. She said I could go to him.” Liv lies boldly. 

“Oh okay.” He opens the door, letting Liv dash in.

Inside, she finds her dad surrounded by media personnel. He stands at his locker, in his sweaty post-game clothes, backwards hat on with two hands on his hips as he answers questions.

“Yeah, I mean, I think we need to keep focusing on playing our game from the drop of the puck. When we play like that, things go our way and it allows…” He lifts his gaze to the doorway, seeing his daughter, with the Devils logo on her cheek and her small jersey with Daddy and 28 on the back. “Livy?” He questions. “Can you guys let my daughter in for a second? Sorry.” He kneels down to her level. “Where is mommy?”

She knows better than to lie to her daddy like she did to the security guard. She brushes that off completely. 

“I miss you. Can we go home now?”

The reporters awe. 

“Not yet.” Timo chuckles. “Wanna sit in my locker and wait for me?”

“Yeah.” 

Timo takes her hand and helps her crawl into his spot on the bench. She glances over to the left, seeing her uncle Nico looking at her. 

“You want a snack?” Nico asks, holding up a cutie to her. He knows they’re her favorite fruit. She grins widely, snatching it from his hand. 

“Liv.” Timo corrects, a hand on her head between her two, high pigtails.

“Danke!” 

“Gern geschehen, Lieblingsnichte.” Nico gives her knucks, then resumes taking his other shin pad off.

Liv munches on her orange as she watches her dad answer interview questions. Timo strategically places his body to hide her from the cameras, asking everyone to keep her out of their frames. They all oblige, understanding how private the Meiers are about their children. 

“Thanks, Timo.” The group calls as he finishes his last answer.

“Thank you all. Sorry for the interruption.” He chuckles, turning to his daughter. “Okay, we need to get you back to mama. I’m sure she is worried.” His look is pointed to her. He grabs a pair of shorts, stuffing his feet into his Adidas slides, then puts his sweatshirt over his large shoulders. He helps Liv off the big bench, holding her hand out of the locker room with so many people moving around. Emma is outside the door, arms crossed over her chest, glaring. She zones in on Liv, then looks at her husband. 

“Thanks for the heads up!” Emma snaps at him.

“Baby, I was doing interviews, we just got done.”

“Liv, if you ever.. and I mean, EVER, run away from me again like that here, that will be your last game of daddy’s you watch live. You scared me!” Emma is clearly upset, scolding their daughter in frantic Swiss German. Timo feels bad that he continued his interviews without telling his wife their daughter was with him. 

“Sorry, mama.” Liv shrugs. Oh, she is most definitely not sorry. Emma pauses, stopping her reaction, then stands to her full height.

“Hurry up.” She snaps at Timo instead.

“I feel like you’re mad at me and I didn’t do anything.” Timo calls after where Emma is hoisting Liv up onto her hip. She shoots a glare over her shoulder at him.

“Go shower! You stink!” 

“You could join me?” Timo chuckles after her. 

The only sign that Emma hears is the way she sways her hips just for him as she walks away.

#TM: loving & leaving

[berlinini]

I’m not familiar with the fashion industry and I have some questions inspired by 28’s drop that I’m hoping you can help with. I think of you as our first and best source for fashion info. For brands like 28, once a drop happens, is that typically the last that those items are available, so if an item sells out, you’re out of luck? Or are items from past drops sometimes/often replenished, so with each drop the line gets larger? Maybe only the most popular items might be carried forward? (My very uneducated guess is that if it’s one-and-done, that’s: a) because these brands aren’t set up for larger scale manufacturing, and/or b) to build up demand and desirability/image?) I’m wondering if there’s a typical approach for these brands, or are they all over the map on how they do it? Thank you so much!

Ok I'm flattered that you think would think of my that way but I'm no expert!

I don't know any brands akin to 28 clothing so it's really hard to compare. Looking at the marketing from the "smaller" brands that Louis' been wearing, they still have collections by seasons, with a limited number of items.

I've only seen "drop" being used for shoes. Most recently Adidas has released Yeezy (drop 4) and I know New Balance released a special collection from their Paris Fashion Week and yes, and those cases, as you said, it's limited items, available while they last.

As you mentionned this creates a high demand based on limited offer. Your point about manufacturing is also good. It's less risky to produce less and have it sold out, instead of producing too much and ending with unsold products on your hands that you need to stock somewhere.

So I'm not sure for 28 Clothing and I've asked myself the same question. Some items were sold out the day after the launch and while it can look cool (underlining message being that it's super popular). At the same time they have to break outside of fandom buyers, so if outsiders are never able to put their hands on an item they'll get frustrated and move on.

My guess, like yours, is that they might replenish the popular items which would become the 'classics' of the line, available at all times.

We have to wait and see how they're treating it as a proper fashion line (would it be available in some niche stores in London, for example?) versus applying their merch rule book. A monthly drop is interesting, but the hype is bound to die down once fans have acquired a few pieces at a higher price point.... You end up with sold out items that people would buy but cannot, and unsold items that stay on your books until..... It's all about balancing risks.

Drop 2 will answer some of our questions!

#answered ask #anon #28 clothing

[sloppinjimmy]

Thank you @zurdoabsurdo for the tag!! Love you zurds and your big brain Kim/jimmy/Marco takes mwah

What’s your favorite movie that you saw in theaters this year? A family member took me to see Singing in the Rain in theaters for the 75th anniversary; was pleasantly surprised and the blatant poly-coding of the main three was enough to keep me engaged almost the whole time

What do you usually wear? Black or blue hoodie, black adidas joggers, black socks and slides

How tall are you? 5’6

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? I’m an Aries! Apparently, in 1954, my birthday was “the most boring day since the dawn of the 20th Century.” Also I had to look up which anniversary of Singing in the Rain happened this year to answer the first question and learned that this movie initially released on my birthday

Do you go by your name or a nick-name? My family usually calls me by my childhood nickname, but everyone else it’s just my name

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? Not yet, but I believe I will

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? Nope. The only crush I have (that isn’t an unattainable celebrity) is a middle aged German man I met one (1) time that happened to be a family member’s boss and who now lives on a whole other continent

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? Good at crocheting, bad at singing

Dogs or cats? Extremely allergic to both but I’m more of a dog person

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year? Umm it’s annoying but true so I have to say that I’m generally unhappy with the art I’ve made because I feel like I could do better, but in the spirit of the question, I’m gonna go with my dad nacho drawing because I feel like it opened the door to meet so many cool people and I wouldn’t have had that chance without it

What’s something you would like to create content for? Within BCS: definitely marco/jimmy and Marco/jimmy/kim. Outside of BCS: Barry for FUCKING sure, maybe arrested development. I need to watch more tv and film in general but I’ve been especially itching to do some sad gay MOPI stuff

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? I mean I’m normal so… you’re definitely not going to find me pouring over every morsel of lore that my favorite actors drop about themselves and their perspectives on life and how they got to where they are today. I definitely don’t do that for hours upon hours every day because I’m normal

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? I was excited to start my small business but I’ve (predictably) gotten bored of it and want to do something else. I’m always chasing a new passion that I want my entire life to be about but I always move on to the next thing before I can give myself enough time to cultivate something truly meaningful or noteworthy

What’s a hidden talent of yours? I can juggle one-handed. Also hole tricks

Are you religious? Nope!

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? Boring answer but enough money to go to college ahjdhajdhwjdi

Thank you again zurdo!! Tagging @bluewaterlily

@alcompasdemicaballo @locosalamanca @rosayoro @watasemasaru and gab when she’s reprieved from exile

#tag game

[khiphop-discussions]

What are your thoughts on cancel culture and “moral purity”? Is there truly anything that is unproblematic in the media that we consume?

I have a lot of thoughts on it. I've made a short video on it before in response to an ask but A) I lost that ask B) I think my views have probably developed since that video anyway.

To answer the last question: No. Nothing is unproblematic.

This was a longer post (as expected) so I'll put a "keep reading".

As far as "cancel culture", to me it really doesn't exist in the way people who "seriously" use the term "cancel culture" think it does. Why? Cause nobody ever truly gets "cancelled" (well at least most people USUALLY don't actually get cancelled. More on that later though). What happens is people get yelled at, "roasted", and cursed out on the internet. To me, that's not a true "cancelling". That's just backlash.

Cancelling was initially (from my observations and in my opinion) supposed to be something like a boycott. Basically, until you do better we aren't gonna financially support you and as a result you will lose revenue if not straight up go broke/bankrupt and lose your career altogether.

In order for something to be "cancelled" it has to be greenlit in the first place. You can't "cancel" a series that no network ever picked up, right? That show was never on air to begin with. It was making no money. It was never a thing. So "cancelling" it doesn't actually hurt anything.

The problem with "cancel culture". The people MOST likely to "truly" cancel someone are the people who never were fans in the first place. So they never actually offered any financial support. Their internet rantings and ravings don't actually mean much if people will still pay for a certain thing. So there's VERY few people (in my opinion) who have ever truly been cancelled. Those people don't have the financial backing to pull for it to truly be a "cancelling". Most people forgive them after a period of time or after an apology and this is long before they ever start to lose huge amounts of revenue for the most part.

Right now, I feel like Kanye is being "cancelled" for real. Why? Because people with REAL money (aka not people but corporations like Adidas and Chase) have dropped him and stopped doing business with him. So because of that he's lost (or at least WILL lose over a period of time) millions if not billions of dollars. Nick Cannon was another because he lost his show with MTV/VH-1 for a period of time. Bill Cosby as well especially since he also was held accountable (at least for a time) by the legal system. Same with Harvey Weinstein. Same with R.Kelly. Azelia Banks as well (not legally cause nothing she said or did was technically illegal). She has a career still technically but it PALES in comparison to what she had. HUGE festivals kicked her off so she lost a lot of money.

So personally I think a lot of the criticisms of "cancel culture" actually turn out to be quite moot. It's really a lot of people just not liking how mean the internet is to be who do things many on the internet deem to be bad.

As far as moral purity, I also don't think that's what people expect. Reason being is that a lot of people are forgiven VERY easily after their scandals. All it really takes is an apology and most of the time MULTIPLE instances of scandals are tolerated evne without apologies. Sometimes they are even allowed to DOUBLE DOWN without losing fans. They might get yelled at but, again, people go back to supporting them very soon after the transgressions. So I disagree with the notion of the internet or "cancel culture" expecting moral purity. I genuinely think that's a cop-out. (this isn't directed at the person sending this anon, it's more about in general how I've seen people discuss cancel culture and moral purity as concepts).

#asks

[90363462]

Pusha T Breaks Down “Story Of Adidon,” Says Drake Got What Was Coming Once He Said His Fianceé’s Name, “All Bets Are Off Because Of That”

Bossip

WENN/Euan Cherry

Pusha T Calls The Breakfast Club About His Drake Diss

If you were feeling bad for Drake after Pusha T dropped “Story of Adidon,” you shouldn’t — at least that’s what Pusha T says. The rapper called into “The Breakfast Club” Wednesday to break down his bars and explained why he snapped. 

Play

When asked by the Power 105.1 morning team if he felt badly at all about the verbal assault (and photo exposure) of Drizzy, Pusha told the crew that once Drake said his fianceé, Virginia Williams’ name. 

“All bets are off because of that,” Pusha told The Breakfast Club. 

He went on to discuss the photo he’d used for the song after Angela Yee asked where he got the artwork. 

“The picture came from a site, it was a photographer named David Leyes. I guess Drake took the pictures a little while ago. They said it was his idea, what to do.”

Charlamagne then said that it’s likely Drake will be questioned about the photo wherever he goes now. 

“I need to understand what makes you take a picture like that,” Pusha agreed and when the trio added that the baby lines will also continue to haunt Drake, Pusha agreed with that as welll. “Even the baby thing is a little crazy. Who rolls out their child with a sweatsuit?” Push asked.

Envy, Angela and Charlamagne asked Push to further explain the Adidas situation and he had this to say:

“The Adidas situation is this. His new line on Adidas is called Adidon — the line is named after his child Adonis. We don’t know, we just know that we couldn’t know until he sold a sweatsuit.”

Angela then brought up how today is World MS Day, making the lines about Noah “40” Shehib that much more impactful. 

But Pusha remained unfazed.

“Ah man, that’s ironic. Listen man, I’m just here man, I’m here for the sport of it but when it gets too personal it gets too personal.”

When asked if he had any regrets or had censored himself at all Pusha said “Not at all. I’m not censoring myself, that’s just more content later.”

This battle really could go on and on! Mind you, Pusha isn’t fearful about what Drake may say about him next. 

“I’m a tell y’all like this,” Pusha said. “I don’t have any skeletons. I’m not gonna bully the situation but I think it’s bigger questions than the things I brought up and I really feel like they need to be answered. That’s really how I feel. I’m not gonna excuse you talking multi million dollar talk to me while you are tucking a baby. I don’t even talk to my friends who have child support issues. I’m big on kids. That’s just real. You can’t hang out with me and ball with me. That’s real.”

When talk returned to the blackface photos Pusha continued to question Drake’s judgment. 

“Listen cuz to me, I feel like this wasn’t so long ago,” Push told The Breakfast Club. ” Have you just started recognizing your blackness? How could you not have felt some type of way doing that photoshoot? It’s deep. I need to know.” 

Angela Yee then asked if Pusha knows for sure that Drake has actually fathered a baby, to which he responded, “Angela Yee, we done already tap danced around the ghostwriting, we not tap dancing around no baby.”

Charlamagne jumped in to say, “We not tap dancing at all because we not wearing no blackface.”

“And that’s a fact!” Pusha added.

The interview also shed some light on alleged Drake ghostwriter Quentin Miller, who has been collateral damage in several Drake related beefs. 

“I talked to Quentin last night,” Pusha told TBC. “For real for real, that is the one regret that I have about “Infrared.” Quentin is extremely talented and he’s trying to get his career on and trying to move on and I feel like I sort pulled him back in it. But I feel like that was just a casualty. For him, in turn I’ve tried to help him, reach out to agents and managers and I’ve seen how people react to his name. That’s one thing that’s bothersome. He was like, ‘You know I’m trying to duck that.’

As the interview came to a close Charlamagne cautioned Pusha, “Don’t sleep on Aubrey Push, don’t sleep, stay alert.”

“Bruh,” Push replied, “I’m wide awake.”

Are you loving this rap battle or do you think they’re going too far? 

Hit the flip for some related social media from Pusha T.

[lovemesomesurveys]

What is a long song that you enjoy? (over 5 minutes long): Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

If you have a sibling, what is a memory you have with them that you'll never forget?: Aw, there’s too many. Our family vacations, our inside jokes, staying up all night during the summer, hanging out, watching him grow up and seeing him now and what he’s accomplished already at just 22… we’ve had a lot of good times.

Do you cry over small things?: Yes. Anything can set it off it seems. I’m so moody, sensitive, irritable, and easily frustrated now.

Are you organized?: Mostly. I used to be more organized, but I didn’t have the energy or motivation for much of anything the past few years so things became a little disorganized.

Who is someone you adore?: My loved ones.

Rock, paper, or scissors? : Rock.

What do you do whenever you're nervous?: Squirm, pick at my nails, mess with my hair, twiddle around with my hands…

Black or Green?: I like black and I like various shades of green so I’m saying both.

Is your favorite color currently in the outfit you're wearing?: I mean, I do like blue.

Do you vape?: Nope.

Do you sleep with any stuffed animals?: They’re nap pillows (mrs marvel reference lol) and there are a few that sit on my bed.

Do you have a motto?: Not really.

What is a scary experience you have had?: I’ve experienced several just the past month.

What shoes do you wear the most?: Black Adidas.

Have you ever met a famous person?: Yes.

If you could travel anywhere right now, where would you go?: Another country to a beautiful and relaxing beach resort.

What were you like as a teenager?: Shy, awkward, introverted… the same as now, ha. I was a homebody who spent all my time online and fangirled over stuff, also still stuff I do.

When did you last get lab work done?: Every single day. They come every morning to take s blood sample.

Whose baby did you last hold?: One of my cousin several years ago.

What genre does your favorite TV show fall into?: I have a lot of favorites and the list has and continues to grow during my time here.

Have you ever been on a cruise?: No.

Do you know what average rent is in your area?: Expensive and way overpriced.

When did you last turn on a fan?: Earlier.

What is something you are proud of?: My brother’s recent job promotion and just in general.

What did you last purchase at the grocery store?: Food.

How long are your showers?: Like 30 ish minutes.

What is an unhealthy habit you have?: It was irresponsibility and self-neglect regarding myself and my health.

Do you tend to lose your TV remote often?: No.

What would be most beneficial to your life right now?: Things that help me get better.

Are you a good story teller?: No, I’m the worst.

Would you ever have a wild animal as a pet if possible?: No.

Are there any words that annoy you when people use them out of context?: I can’t think of one at the moment.

What popular foods do you dislike?: Sushi. All seafood, actually. But it seems like everyone loves sushi but me. And bacon.

Do you ask or answer questions more?: Ask, mainly Mr. Google.

Do you prefer indoor or outdoor concerts?: Indoor.

Have you ever tried deep fried oreos?: Yessss. Yum.

What's your typical Chinese food order?: Chow mien, potstickers, egg rolls, crab rangoon, chicken in foil.

What made you smile today?: Something I was watching.

What would you like to buy most right now?: Nothing at the moment.

Do you own any exercise equipment?: No.

What would you do is you found a large sum of money?: Depends on the situation. Is there identification? Did I see who dropped it or is there an ad or something about it? Where did I find it? If it was outside a store in a parking lot with places nearby I could see if anyone came looking for it.

Are you in any amount of physical or mental pain?: Both.

What time is it currently?: 1:18pm.

Is there a garage or car port at your place of residence?: We have a garage.

What are your plans for the rest of the day?: Lying here doing my usual things in between the nurses coming in doing the routine stuff, try to sleep, repeat. My mom is coming soon, though, so that’ll be nice. The only good part of my days are when the fam visits. My mom and I watch our shows and my brother and I have our shows we watch as well. I’ve started, finished, and caught up on several shows while here.

What did you last have a conversation about?: Texting with my mom about what she was doing and when she was coming,

What color is your toothbrush?: Blue.

Have you ever stayed at a hotel alone?: No, but I’ve stayed in the room alone for awhile if I wanted to just chill or rest instead of doing something.

Who were you last in a vehicle with?: My mom and brother.

What can you currently hear?: A commercial and hospital noises.

Do you find having to find meals daily to be a nuisance?: I often did and that’s something I took for granted now that I haven’t been able to eat actual food or drink anything for over a month. I miss food and coffee and soda and milkshakes 🙁 Pretty much everything looks and sounds good to me. And damnit, you never realize how many food commercials there are that air constantly and all the ads and recipes posted online everywhere.

Would you rather go a week without showering or brushing your teeth?: Showering because I could freshen up other ways.

What does your last text message say?: “Ha, busted!”

Do you listen to screamo?: Some.

You can have any 3 things in the world, what would you choose?: Good health, financial stability, happiness.

Last thing you won?: Uhhh.

Have you ever considered becoming a vlogger?: No.

Do you take any daily medicines or vitamins?: Yes. Especially now, I’ve had all kinds of stuff.

Do you carry pepper spray?: Yes.

Are you easily distracted?: Yes.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[nickgerlich]

Clothes Encounters

Take a look in your closet. Please don’t ever say, “I don’t have a thing to wear.” The fact of the matter is—men and women alike—that we have far more clothes than we could ever begin to wear out. Yet we do, of course, because we tend to put our favorites into regular rotation, while everything else hangs there forlornly, the result of a bad consumer decision at some point.

And yet we buy more. 

I remember when I went to China in 2002 to adopt our youngest daughter. I noticed that our local liaisons often wore the same clothes for up to a week at a time. Yeah, you can probably imagine the sweet aroma that occurred. But they did so not because they were eccentric. They simply did not own many clothes, this coming two decades ago when China was just emerging from under the gun of decades-long communism-imposed poverty. When I returned in 2019, they dressed pretty much like is.

But can you imagine having so few clothes that you had to wear them repeatedly? We. Can’t. Even. Heck, sometimes we change clothes several times a day, from office to leisure to workout.

The result of our western prosperity is closets full of clothing, fueled by fat pocket books, desire, and fast fashion, that nefarious practice of clothiers introducing new styles on a rolling basis, the majority of these designed to be “in” right now, “out” in a heartbeat, and falling apart in no time.

The vast majority of our unwanted clothing—whenever we do get rid of it—winds up in the landfill. And don’t feel too smugly yet about what you drop-and-run at Goodwill. A whopping 80% of that is shipped to Africa, simply because Goodwill cannot begin to handle all of the items they receive. Houston, we have a huge problem on our hands here.

Worse yet, while there have been efforts to recycle clothing, as well as voiced desire to at least consider the prospects, we have had little success. It’s a noble cause for sure, but it hasn’t been able to find legs. Recycling, as it turns out, is an idea that must be marketed as much as the tangible items in the center of the discussion.

But three companies—Levi’s, Adidas, and Zara—are starting to gain traction with their recycling efforts, along with several startups farther up the resource chain. It’s about time, because as I once again summon one of my favorite talking points—the sprawling Mount Trashmore outside of Canyon—I see more and more of our daily consumables winding up in the dumpster.

Essentially, the efforts involve turning wood and other wastes into fiber, as well as textile-to-textile recycling.

It’s truly nothing new, because I have seen many garments in the last 20-30 years made from recycled plastic soda bottles. These tend to be athletic clothing, simply because cotton is an athlete’s worst enemy much of the time. Once wet, always wet. Patagonia, on the other hand, is committed to recycling polyesters, and while their clothing line is outdoorsy, it is more leisure wear than performance wear.

That leaves much of what remains in our closets as being one-way, meaning direct from consumer to dump, or, if we’re feeling generous, on its way to Africa.

Reducing the carbon footprint of clothing is going to take a huge effort, much more than what these forward-thinking companies could ever muster. But their baby steps are essential for making progress in the right direction.

Furthermore, recycling in general is an idea that must be sold more aggressively, especially in a place like West Texas where it is now lumped in with all those other “woke” ideal points. It’s all easy to pay lip service, too, but getting ourselves mobilized is quite another.

It all starts by shopping with a conscience and thinking about where and how you will ultimately dispose of the item. If you can’t answer those questions, it’s probably time to reconsider the entire purchase.

Said the man in the mirror.

Dr “Buy Less, Save More” Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #recycling #clothes

[chicagoblogboy]

Heroes Become Vilians

“You either die a hero or live long enough to become a vilian.” - Harvey Dent

Are all of my idols secretly a piece of shit? The first time I thought it, Tiger Woods. He was unassailable before Thanksgiving, 2009. A family man, the ultimate competitor on the course and a shy mogul off the court. He was a serial cheater? What?!

I remember reading the story about Tiger being in the club with Jeter and Jordan and asking them how they are so good with the ladies. Jordan told him “Tell ’em you’re fucking Tiger Woods.” Apparently, he took that to heart. It was sad to see a sports idol’s fall from grace before my eyes. Since then, in the age of cell phones and surveillance, it seemed that there was no chance to hide who you are, that everything would come to light eventually. That gave my a false belief that people were who they said they were, or else, surely, evidence of the contrary would have come to life. For Tiger, cultural redemption was possible, and he achieved a decade later. I hope there are more of these happy endings for our fallen icons, but I doubt it. 

I’m from the suburbs of Chicago. When I was 16 I moved to Las Vegas. I knew my stay in the west would be temporary, that I was a midwestern kid at heart. I rejected the RVCA shorts and Vans in favor of Midwestern college t-shirts and beat Nikes. I embraced everything and everyone out of Chicago. Prominently; Derrick Rose, Obama, and Kanye. I was in line for a movie date in 2008 when my brother called me and said he was at the same hotel with 2 extra tickets to see Kanye. We shuffled over to watch N.E.R.D. and Pharell open for Kanye on the Graduation tour. I heard the dude next to me rap “Good Morning” and knew I had to learn every word too. Kanye was the greatest living artist, and my connection to home. Yeezus dropped my first year out of college, the newness and wildness of that album matched where I was at in life, and I was home, in Chicago. When I lost my uncle and heard “Waves” I was moved to tears and listened on repeat for weeks while I grieved.

Then I bought tickets to the Life of Pablo tour that turned out to be fake. I haven’t enjoyed any of his new music since then. His passion moved to apparel. I waited online for Yeezy’s that I could never get my hands on. My guy was now the guy. He was in LA, married to a Kardasian, with Adidas. He became more manic and unpredictable, harder to defend in the name of geniusness. Somewhere along the way he became unrecognizable from the Kanye I thought I knew. Then he descended into politics. Trump was the last straw and I’m sad to see the state he remains in today. Plenty of people were there to capitalize on him when he was healthy - Kim, Adidas, Gap, labels, fellow artists. Those people should be the ones to help him thru whatever he is dealing with. Instead, he’s been cutoff. I’m sure some of them made genuine efforts, but when someone is going through it sometimes you just gotta let them go through it and stay present for when they become open to change. See Steve-O supporting Bam Margera. I see nobody at his side today. It makes me sad. Sad that he disappointed me and so many of his fans. Sad that he can’t be helped. I hope there’s a redemption arch out there for him, it’s tough to see it now. One things for sure, there is not more defending him in the sake of “Genius”, the man is an idiot with a microphone. I was duped.

I talked about Elon Musk at my Grandma’s memorial. She’d always made an effort to talk to me about what I was interested in, sending me clips from the Newspaper in the mail, the last one she sent was about Tesla. In 2017 I read Tim Urban’s blog about Elon. In college, Elon thought about what he wanted to do with his life, using as his starting point the question, “What will most affect the future of humanity?” The answer he came up with was a list of five things: “the internet; sustainable energy; space exploration, in particular the permanent extension of life beyond Earth; artificial intelligence; and reprogramming the human genetic code.” That seemed a noble guiding principal for a genius to take on, and boy did he ever take it on! Paypal, Tesla, SpaceX, Neuralink, OpenAI. Any questions?

The reasons to admire Elon are obvious. The reasons to doubt him started to rack up starting in 2018 when Elon offered to help some kids stranded in a cave in Thailand. Elon didn’t know what he was talking about and when an engineer told him so, he responded by calling the guy a pedo. He won the defamation case, but watching a “Genius” step outside of his area of expertise and be get put in his place is a great way to see his true character. What we saw of Elon was not pretty - he jumped right to name calling, like Trump. The trend continued. He begrudgingly bought Twitter after an illtimed and misinformed decision to make an offer backfired on him. He did this to rid the rules of the platform and bring back “free speech”. But he had no idea what that meant, he started blocking accounts that went against his personal code (being nice to kids). When he empowered a professional, Yoel Roth, to take on cleaning up the app by banning accounts and removing content, he ended up burning out and resigning. Elon then posted a selective screenshot of his 2016 dissertation in an effort to have his mob of fanboys call him a Pedo until his family had to flee their home. He’s made a lot of stupid decisions and, in my opinion, ruined my favorite (and only) social media tool. I left the platform shortly before he took total control, knowing full well the toxicity that would enter the conversation, and be amplified by the algorithym. He has used social media to champion right wing politics. He has poisoned his own platform with disinformation from his own account, tweeting to wonder if an assault against Paul Pelosi was perhaps some weird homo assault. Then he bans accounts that post his whereabouts and welcomes the aforementioned Kanye back to spew Anit-Semetic hate.

The company that made him rich, Tesla, was built off of energy rebates that were the results of environmentally aware Democrats, that he now wants out of office. The people that bought those cars, also mostly environmentally aware Democrats, like me, are no longer interested in being affiliated with Elon. Teslas value is shrinking as competition mounts and he continues to sell off Tesla shares to pay for Twitter. He has meddled his way into the war in Ukraine, providing Starlink Internet access to Ukraine, at his own expense while also publicly encouraging for a resolution to the war by annexing Crimea via a “Vote”. His Starlink efforts are noble. Of course, this can all have a lot to do with his ties to China where Tencent owns 5% of the company and sales relect ⅓ of their overall revenue. Whatever concessions are made to accommodate Russia will be the starting place for China when they invade Tawain. I don’t believe this is a guy trying to solve the worlds issues anymore, this is a desperate man just trying to solve his own problems. But no longer is he the scrappy startup trying to change things. Tesla, Twitter, and SpaceX are all market leaders. No longer is he an excentric innovator, he is a CEO. Act like it, assface.

I was always a Coach K guy. My fandom started with Jay Williams. JJ Reddick. Greg Paulas. I was a believer that Coach K was molding young men at Duke, not just players. Everyone that went to Duke came away better for it. Kyrie Irving seemed like another one of those guys. His 1-year run at Duke was quick - appearing in just 13 games. But he was part of the brotherhood. He was one of my guys. Watching him in the finals with Lebron: the best below the rim finisher of all time, hit one of the biggest clutch shots in NBA history. He seemed like the perfect running mate for the rest of LeBron’s career - until he decided he wasn’t. He asked for a trade to create his own legacy and boy did he. Alienated the Cleveland fanbase that drafted him, poisoned his Boston Celtics team, committed to them, then left in free agency to join Durant in Brooklyn. There he sacrificed 18 million in 1 year by not getting vaccinated and not playing. His future is up in the air but the total could top $100 Million. All to spit in the face of scientists and say “I know better”. He topped that by spreading Alex Jones disinformation and Jewish conspiracy theories the next year. He admits to getting his education on YouTube and obscure Documentaries. I wish Kyrie would’ve stayed at Duke long enough to learn how to make a bibliography, fact check, maybe read a couple of actual fucking books. 

Tiger, Kanye, Elon, and Kyrie duped me. They made me believe they were one person based on what I was seeing and when the curtains got pulled back that their true selves started to show, they were not people I would support, let alone embrace and look up to.

There’s a lot of talk about showing your true self in the world. It started with Trump. When the Access Hollywood tape came out, it gave Trump and all the assholes in our country the balls to finally say fuck it and start taking that personality online, if not into their social lives. There they finally felt seen and heard, they were getting together in echo chambers, spewing their hate and disinformation to the delight of their fellow idiots. Before that, people with fucked up beliefs kept them to themselves, but now, they could find each other, they could form groups.

What were the results? I wasn’t the only one duped; Trump. Q-Anon. Tucker Carlson. Majorie Taylor Green. George Santos. The right has had their fair share of people posing as “one of them”. The truth comes out eventually. Kanye finally revealed himself. Elon pulled back the curtains. Kyrie took his idiocracy to Instagram.

I’m glad that these people finally feel free to show their trueselves to the world. I’m happy to turn my back on them as soon as it’s clear that our values do not align. But I cannot help but feel duped. What happened? What changed? Were you always an asshole? Did fame and money change you? Whose next? I live in fear that one of my unassailable icons will become the latest example. LeBron? Steph? Barak? Adam Sandler? Please, not the Sandman.

[hogan-torah]

Dear Penthouse, I Never Thought These Letters Were Real

Question: What was something that started out innocently but eventually turned out far from it?

I was 19 years old. It was the late 90’s. My father was in the hospital dying from a brain tumor. My Mom was there with him. It was a weekday. I had dropped out of junior college and was home alone engaged in one of my favorite activities, sleeping. When all of a sudden, the door bell rang. Normally I wouldn't have cared, but something deep inside me felt I should see who it was. The doorbell rang once more before I could put on enough clothes to properly answer it.

I opened the door to find a girl. She looked a few years older than me with long brown hair in a Rachel cut with a chunk of hair bleached because it was the 90’s, piercing blue eues, with freckles and a tan. Probably not what you'd call beautiful but sexy. Tall, a little too thin, slightly crooked teeth, but those legs. Long lean but the best part is always what’s between them. She said “Hi!” I said “Hi..” Then she starts with compliments segueing into questions. Things like “Nice house! How long have you been here? Seems like a nice neighborhood.”

Hot chicks don’t just knock on your door to talk about the weather, so after a few questions I interrupted her and said, “So… What are you selling? ” She blushed and asked how I knew she was selling something. “Asking questions about the things that I own that I am likely proud to have bought. But this is my parents place. Since you aren't carrying any product or even a purse and you don’t have it on you. I’d guess you were selling magazines. “

She was selling magazines door to door. I invite her in to show me what magazines she had. As I was looking over the list she asked about the stickers on the back windows of my Oldsmobile Bravada. I think I had a Jnco sticker and an Adidas sticker because it was the 90’s. It meant I wore big ugly weirdly cut jeans but when I wasn't wearing them I wore track pants. Break away track pants.

I bought 50 bucks worth of magazines off her and paid by check. She asked if I had any weed for sale. I did.

She comes upstairs with me. I put on some music, probably house music because 90’s. I pack her a fat bong load and she snaps it in one hit. As she exhales she lies back on my bed, resting on her elbows. As I lit the second bowl and I looked at her toned exposed midriff, the realization hit me. I could totally have sex with this chick. The magazine girl. “Dear Penthouse, I never thought these letters were real but the other day….”

I would describe the sex but it was 20 years ago, I was half awake, and stoned. I remembered it taking more time to find a condom than how long the sex lasted. Not that I didn't put in a good 20 minutes, it just took me a really long time to find a condom. And you had to wear a condom for any type of sex otherwise you would die of AIDS because 90’s.

She had no interest in cuddling after. So I gave her my number because she wanted to buy more weed than just the 20 bucks she purchased. She never called again. Which is fine because I put a stop payment on the check I wrote her. But one morning I woke up and there was a girl at the door and 15 minutes later we were having sex. It really does happen.

#unexpected #saleswomen #seduction #one night stand #this happened

[piperpisbarron]

What's The Very Best Running Shoes For Calf Pain?

Whether you’re trying to run a marathon or just running around the block, it’s useful to know what footwear will provide help to keep away from damage. In this text, we study the evidence on which footwear are best for injuries in runners.

What are one of the best Running shoes for calf ache?

There’s nobody answer to this query, as the most effective running shoes for calf pain will differ relying on your particular person ft and calf situation. However, some general tips which will help embrace choosing sneakers with a agency, supportive match and choosing these with a low profile or zero drop design. Additionally, ensure the footwear have good cushioning and ample support to your Achilles tendon.

Why do I've pain in my calves?

There are some things that can cause calf pain, including: tight calves, Runner's Knee, plantar fasciitis, and neuroma. The easiest way to determine the reason for your calf ache is to take a while to guage your running form and see if there are any adjustments you may make to lessen the severity of the pain. If you do not know the place the ache is coming from, it may be useful to see a physical therapist. Once you've decided the supply of your calf pain, it is vital to discover a shoe that matches nicely and isn't too tight or too loose. Some manufacturers of footwear particularly designed for runners can assist reduce calf pain, similar to Hoka One One shoes or New Balance footwear. Other shoes that are good for common use embody Adidas shoes or Nike shoes.

How can I stop calf cramps and heel spur?

There isn't a one-measurement-suits-all reply to this question, as the best running shoes for calf ache will fluctuate relying on your individual biomechanics and running fashion. However, some normal suggestions which will help reduce calf cramps and heel spur include: – stretching before and after your run to loosen up your calves and Achilles tendon; – sporting supportive shoes that fit nicely; – rotating several types of terrain throughout your runs to maintain issues attention-grabbing; – avoiding extreme pressure on the Achilles tendon by specializing in maintaining a average cadence (every foot strike equals about two steps); and – drinking plenty of water and staying hydrated throughout your workouts.

Causes of shin splints

Shin splints occur when the muscles and ligaments on either side of the shinbone change into inflamed. The most typical cause is overuse, however genetics and environmental components also can play a task. The best way to prevent shin splints is to gradually increase your operating mileage, adding extra minutes each week as your health level improves. Once you do begin experiencing shin splints, attempt to modify your running form by decreasing the quantity of heel-and-toe striking, and elevating your heel slightly off the ground. If these measures don't help, see a physician who can prescribe particular exercise therapy. Within the meantime, rest and ice your shins as wanted.

Benefits of a very good working shoe

On the subject of running, calf pain is something that many people undergo from. This is because the calves are one in every of the biggest muscle groups in the body and so they work too much when you’re working. If you’re struggling with calf pain, there are a few things that you can do to attempt to reduce the amount of discomfort that you are feeling. Considered one of an important things that you are able to do on the subject of decreasing calf ache is to decide on the fitting operating shoe. A superb operating shoe will fit well and supply cushioning and assist for your toes. Additionally, a good operating shoe will have a low heel-to-toe ratio so that your legs don’t need to work as hard. Finally, make sure that you buy a operating shoe that is made from lightweight supplies so that you simply don’t experience a lot weight in your toes. If you're still struggling with calf ache after making an attempt out totally different sneakers, then it is likely to be worth contemplating getting surgical procedure. Surgery may help take away any blockages in the veins or arteries close to the calves, which can cause vital calf pain.

Pro tips for purchasing the perfect running shoes

When you’re in search of the right running shoes, it can be laborious to figure out what will work greatest for your individual physique kind and calf pain. Here are some suggestions to help you find the footwear that may greatest fit your wants: -Start by making an attempt on just a few completely different pairs of footwear at a retailer. This may will let you see which style of shoe is probably the most snug and supportive for your ft and calves. -Consider your most well-liked running route. If you’re primarily a street runner, you may need to check out running shoes with more cushioning or OrthoLite technology. For those who favor trails, search for shoes which have good traction and stability. -Be sure to fit your working shoe properly. Be certain that the width is correct and that the heel top is adjusted as needed.

#Running shoes

[stopeatingwhales]

the 1995 brits x damon albarn & liam gallagher

hhhiiii I'm here with a very cute little fic about the brits!! the idea of writing something with Damon and liam fighting over someone was requested quite a long time ago (sorry it’s taken so long omg) but I loved the idea!! I do hope you all enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it a lot hahah xx

Pairing: 90s damon albarn & 90s liam gallagher x reader

Warnings: nothing, just a little bit of bickering n dat

Word count: 3.057

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Being a part of the madness that adapted the name ‘Britpop’ was truly an experience. Paparazzi at every corner you turn, equipped with the brightest, flashiest cameras, also having the most annoying click noises to the point that after one image you’ve earned yourself a migraine that would last the entirety of the day; parties that would last entire nights, bearing millions of different kinds of drugs - some that hadn’t even been given a name yet, but you’d still give a try anyways, since you’re so high and drunk that you simply lose the intellectual capability to construct decisions, you say fuck it, and get so high to the point that you’ve blacked out in a booth in a bar, with the owner asking you to get out since you’ve been inside for one too many hours after closing time; as well as constant press coverage. With your name plastered over literally every newspaper and music magazine known to man, as well as having your entire life consistently dictated for the entire nation to read about every Sunday morning and indulge themselves into as a form of entertainment, it was what being famous delivered, right on your doorstep at 7 in the morning. Any earlier and you’d feel rude not to give them a cup of tea as a form of dignity and respect towards their sublime dedication to the job. Although it was fun being associated with it all, my band in particular gaining a different form of calidity due to it being a female fronted band, by the time that the entire nation was hooked on this ‘Blur vs. Oasis’ rivalry, it was as if every other britpop band had been washed away from existence, due to eight boys arguing as to whom had the better music. And the better looks, according to Liam Gallagher.

Tonight was the night of the Brit awards, perhaps the most prestigious awards ceremony for music. To be awarded a Brit was probably the largest achievement possible in British music in the form of an award, and it was definitely either going tonight to either Blur or Oasis. The chances that another band, say Pulp, were to get the award, would not only be extremely amusing to see the reactions of the two biggest names in the Britpop game, but would also cause the largest uproar in the nation. It’s either Blur or Oasis. “Their drama is so silly,” laughed Emily, the guitarist in our band whilst flicking through the latest edition of the Sun, the cover of the newspaper being, of course, Liam Gallagher. “They’re literally bickering about who looks the best. How do people find this interesting?”

“Because of how silly it is, people never leave their secondary-school-like selves. Just a bit of fun I guess.” I replied, fixing up my hair in the mirror in front of me. We were currently getting ready to go to the award show, and needing to look your best was an expectation. Though I wasn’t dressed in anything that would result in jaw’s dropping, it was important that I at least appeared somewhat admirable - the entire nation always had their eyes on us, but tonight they were going to see us all, live. Perhaps the reason why bands like Oasis and Blur are so obsessed over nowadays, since all they’ll do is turn up in some flimsy Adidas t-shirt and call that fashion. I suppose scruffy was the new elegant.

“Who do you think they’ll give the award to?” she questioned, still aimlessly flicking through the recycled pages of the magazine. “I think Oasis. Their music is so much better than Blurs.”

“Really? I’d say Blur. They won on top of the pops, so the likelihood of them winning the Brit award is highly likely,” I answered, shuffling away from the strong reflection of myself towards Emily, my eyes quickly scanning the page that she had her eye on currently. “Gosh Liam’s so full of himself.”

“He’s got his eye on you, you know,” She said, shoving the paragraph she had just read in my face of Liam boasting about his little crush he had supposedly gained from watching our latest performance on top of the pops. “Thinks you’re ‘well fit’.”

Scoffing in response, I mumbled back to Emily. “If he thinks that he’s sleeping with me, he’s very deluded.”

By the time we had arrived at the venue, you weren’t able to walk into the entrance without at least 50 cameras blinding your eyes and the shouts of so many begging for you to quickly turn your head and grin - the price for the photo would reach the many thousands. Once walking in, it was less crowded, only having select people by the ground floor, dedicated for musicians and bands, with the occasional interviewer walking past to every circled table, adorned with white cloth and champagne glasses, asking questions about how they’re feeling, who they think may win, and what they thought of the music throughout the past year. What was nice was that people didn’t have that much interaction with one another, just with their groups. It created a sense of formality in the space, which made me feel a bit at ease from the idea of some random row happening in the middle of the floor, most likely between Liam and Damon. The past year in music was truly something. Britpop was at its peak the entirety of the year, with songs like Parklife and Supersonic pouring out of every radio station in Britain that by the end of the year, you had ditched casual radio music and began blasting the classical station. It was a nightmare. Since the fall of grunge subsequent to Cobain’s death the previous year, the talk of any other genre in Britain apart from Britpop didn’t occur. It was as if we were living on this mystical island, miles away from any other music and culture, whilst adorning and obsessing over our own. What was nice about Britpop was that it was a pure celebration of English culture, whether it be a simple Sunday roast, or going to school, they all carried the same ambience of nostalgia and pride - also disregarding whichever band wrote what song.

“Free champagne… Yes please,” said Madeline, the secondary guitarist of the band, whilst heading to the first seat she could sit on, then quickly indulging herself with the first taste of the rich drink. “Oh my gosh it’s heavenly!”

Laughing at her reaction, the rest of the band took a seat around the table and took their first sips of the champagne, which we would all come to find to be indeed heavenly. Small talk was shared here and there with the rest of the group, but overall I stayed silent. In all honesty I found attending award shows was quite boring because if you didn’t end up getting an award, you would essentially be sitting there for two hours doing nothing. Even if you did win an award, it’s simply a minute of glory with the speakers blasting your music, and another minute of all eyes piercing into your soul as you make sentences about your gratitude towards those who had helped you along the way to earn such an achievement. I doubt anybody genuinely liked attending shows like these.

“The champagne is good, yet we don’t get enough for our table,” I complained, grasping my now empty champagne glass and waving it around in the air. “I’m gonna head to the bar to get a refill, anybody want anything?”

After receiving a handful of nos from the rest of the band, I took myself out of my seat and wandered over to the bar, which was empty, perhaps due to the venue not yet being completely filled with all the artists that were set to attend the night. “Just a refill of the champagne, please.” I asked politely, handing the bartender the used glass I had kept in my hand. Whilst waiting, I noticed that Damon was on the other side of the bar, who also didn’t notice me there, until he caught eyes with me.

A grin broke out on his face as I walked over to him. “You alright?” He asked me, quickly thanking the bartender for his drink and turning back to look at me. The height difference between us was evident, but it wasn’t the case of something so dramatic that he was the height of the empire state building and me, just a measly common tower in the city. He looked quite content, his hair scruffy yet neat, along with his outfit being just as I had assumed: a white shirt with jeans, a used pair of Adidas for shoes.

I smiled back at him and nodded. “Suppose you have high hopes for the award tonight.” I said, simultaneously receiving my refill of the beverage I had ordered, followed by my thanks. We stood adjacent, although there was enough distance between us to establish our relationship - mutual acquaintances whom had met every now and again, since they’ve both been dragged into this wormhole of madness. He was quite the opposite in comparison to his rivals, though he himself could be quite bothersome occasionally, he still had a grasp to what those may call sensibility.

“Oh well we’re better than them, aren’t we love?'' He chirped, his head now cocked to the side in a teasing manner. “I’ve heard that you’re rooting for us this year.” He added, a little smirk pasted on his face.

“Do you read every paper you see?” I questioned, my face turning away from him in slight embarrassment. Between us, there was no shared intention for a relationship to stem, though there was definitely a flirtatious tension that followed between us wherever we had met. Whether it be a random photoshoot for a magazine double-spread, or backstage at top of the pops, we always managed to share a chat with one another, and nothing else followed on from then. It was quite sad, because once you’ve established a connection between something you either both disagree or agree with in terms of societal views, something in the press, or life in general, you’re instantaneously cut off and asked to hop onto stage to record a meaningless three-minute performance with fake, plastic instruments which practically mean nothing.

“Well it was nice seeing someone else's face on the papers for once.” He replied, downing his drink, then ushering at the bartender for another. A thing that we both realised was that, between our conversations, we indirectly indicated that we were both there for each other, because we both had a complete understanding towards what may be happening to the other person. It was stressful being in the limelight constantly, and for someone who was the frontman of a band so large, with his face plastered on every magazine cover imaginable, things were bound to be stressful.

Sighing, I turned to face him again. Despite the fact that before I had the ability to respond, our conversation was cut short from a voice shouting my name from behind. “Well if it isn’t bloody Y/N.” the voice said, and from then I instantly knew it was Liam’s. Turning my face away from Damon’s, I locked eyes with Liam. As always, he was dressed in the usual: a parka, with casual jeans. Oh, and don’t forget the Adidas shoes. Even though he and Damon practically hated each other’s guts, they always seemed to have similar fashion senses, but I could never picture Damon in a parka. And I don’t think I even want to.

“How’ve you been love?” He asked, swinging his arm around my shoulder in a warm, but nonchalant manner. Me and Liam had a similar relationship to that of mine and Damons, simply just minusing the sentimentality of it. We were friends, and had come across each other at random parties, which opened the gateway for us to drink and get high together many a time. While he was quite the idiot, he was also a very fun guy to be around, but I knew Damon would never understand that. “And why’re you letting this twat chat to you?”

A laugh escaped Damon’s throat. “I think you’re the only twat here, Liam,” he began, a sigh leaving my mouth as I was trapped in a situation that I could only pray didn’t gain much traction from the rest of the attendees. “Me and Y/N are friends, don’t suppose we’re getting jealous are we?”

Liam’s grip on my shoulder tightened as I stared at his reaction to Damon. I felt quite small in this situation, due to me needing to tilt my head a good amount to properly look at Liam, and knowing if I left it would just erupt chaos and make it worse. “No need for me to be jealous when I know that she wouldn’t want to spend a minute with you in bed you bastard.”

“And you’re so sure about that are you?” Damon replied, amusement laced in his words. “Because you’ve totally spent a minute with her haven’t you?”

“Well I’ve got my arm around her haven’t I? And she’s not stopping me,” Liam argued back, a smirk entwined on his lips. Reaching for my hand, Liam grasped it lightly, then then brought it to his lips, kissing it, before holding it gently. Method of intimidation, perhaps, and though it was sweet, there was a time and place. And this was definitely neither the time, or place. “Who’s the jealous one now, eh?”

“The last I recall, she had hoped that we were winning this year, not you,” He boasted, moving the contents of his drink around whilst grasping it firmly. Whilst it would be something that would offend Liam, he was simply the type of person to not take criticism regardless of whomever it was coming from. I respected him for that. “So much so for a healthy relationship.” Damon mocked, staring into my eyes as a small laugh escaped my lips.

Granted that I had found the argument shared between the pair of them to be extremely silly, it was good entertainment as the time passed before the award show would begin. Watching them both, attempting to throw insults at one another, each one trying to cut a little deeper than the one previous, made me almost laugh at the both of them right there. “You know, it’s so silly that you both think you know me so well to think which one I’d pick from the both of you,” I said, detaching myself from Liam’s embrace and snatching my half-empty glass of champagne. “At this point, it’s neither of you.”

Walking back to my band’s designated table, I quietly took my seat as the show began. “Saw you chatting to Damon,” Emily whispered, raising her eyebrows. “Also saw you grinning like a madwoman.”

“Oh shut up you,” I replied, looking back at the bar to notice that both parties had left, assuming back to their places. “There’s nothing going on between me and Damon- Liam too in fact.”

~~~

As the ceremony went on, the boredom got to us. Even the amount of drinks I had didn’t entertain me, but what could we do, we were stuck in the middle of an award show celebrating music, even though I had largely doubted that the majority of those attending were enjoying themselves. I had no clue who the awards were going to be handed out to, and whether that somebody may be us in a category, but we all knew Blur were going to win something. Yes, Oasis had gained a lot of fame and had become one of the most famous bands in the music scene at the minute, but by the way things had gone for Blur after the release of Parklife, things only seemed to go further up from there. And that was only proven to be truthful, after Blur had left with four different awards.

After Blur had received their fourth award for best British group, we all knew that there was nothing left for Oasis. “They’ll get it all next year, they only debuted this year you know.” I said to the table, who were staring at the four smiley boys on stage as they trotted up to receive their award. I admired Damon as he said his speech, then also turning to look over at Liam, who looked quite evidently pissed off. He was practically drooling in anger from the sight brought to him at that particular moment, and I couldn’t blame him - their band hadn't gone home with one award that night, but neither had ours. “They’ve taken four awards home, isn’t that like, the most anybody has ever taken?”

“Indeed it is,” Madeline replied, taking a sip from her drink. “Must be a good year for them then, eh?”

As I watched the band leave the stage in absolute glee, I stared at Damon as he walked back to his designated seat for the short remainder of the evening. Despite the fact that my band had been sat in our seats the entire evening in complete boredom, just like Oasis and so many other acts that had been nominated for pointless awards, it would be a lie to say that I wasn’t proud of how far Blur as a whole had come and evolved through their music, and especially Damon. From beginning as young, bowl-cut boys only charting so far on top of the pops, to creating songs and melodies that could unite our entire nation, it was impressive.

Damon was the face of Britain at this very moment, and a very good looking one. Once I watched him sit down, he scanned the room for a while until he was able to find where I was sitting, which was parallel to his seat, merely a couple metres away. He connected eyes with me as soon as he found me, also accompanied with a small smirk painted on his expression as he raised his eyebrows and sent me a wink. I simply smiled back at him in response before turning away abruptly, disrupting the little moment we seemingly shared, and though I felt my heart flutter a little, he’s definitely not winning me that easily.

#britpop #fanfic #bandimagines #Liam Gallagher x reader #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn #blur #Liam Gallagher #oasis #blur band #oasis band #my writing #fluff #angst

[yoongiseesawmp3]

candy kisses - yoongi

don’t judge me. stream butter. stay safe out there

summary: yoongi is y/n’s weed dealer, and he needs help expanding his business portfolio. weed brownies, anyone?

warnings: weed. trifling friends. a small couch. don’t read if you’re a narc or if you’re gonna point out the two grammar mistakes i found that i will not fix

word count: 3.3k

“when was the last time we smoked together?”

you don’t hear yoongi because you’re currently very focused on rolling this blunt correctly. your work in the past has been sloppy, rushed, and you’re worried about disappointing yoongi while also disrespecting his high-quality product, so you’re mega focused on the little pieces of herb in your hands that are trying to run away. you’re half aware of his gaze on you as you work, and you’re also barely aware that your tongue is just slightly sticking out, a sign of your steady concentration which yoongi is about to break.

“you look cute when you’re focused like that,” yoongi says nonchalantly, almost making you drop the blunt just as you’re about to bring it to your lips to wet the paper. 

“thank you?” you reply, noticing how relaxed yoongi is on your couch. just black sweats and a white t shirt on, and yet it’s hard for you not to stare at him. actually, you’re staring right now, so get back to work. you finish up the blunt and lean forward, searching your coffee table for your lighter. 

“looking for this?” yoongi asks, picking it up from underneath a stack of take out napkins that you’ve carefully curated. is that a fire hazard, a lighter underneath cheap napkins? probably. 

“yeah, thanks,” you answer, reaching over to grab it from him. “how’d you know it was there?”

“you always keep it on that little plate thing with the other tiny stuff you lose all the time,” he explains, and you glance at the napkins and see the minuscule design element you barely remembered peeking out from underneath. 

“ok, how’d you know that was there?” you ask, holding the blunt up before you start to slowly light the end of it.

“i go nuts for interior design,” he explains with a shrug. “the colors on the plate match your couch pillows. it’s a nice touch.”

“thank you,” you respond quietly. who notices stuff like that?

“you’re welcome.”

it’s quiet as you take your first puff of the blunt, one quick one just to test it and another, longer pull after for good luck. the acidic smoke hits your tastebuds before you breathe it in. you hold it for just a second, and then exhale, watching the cloud that forms in front of you. you turn to yoongi and intend to pass the blunt to him, but you realize you don’t have an ashtray ready so you pull that little plate from its paper prison and ash the blunt before yoongi takes it from you. your fingers brush as he takes it, and you notice how soft his hands are, so you tell him.

“thanks, it’s your lotion,” he replies, and you laugh at how comfortable he gets every time he comes over. 

“i thought i smelled peaches,” you joke, trying to rearrange the mess on your coffee table now. you push an empty vape pen out of the way as you search for any other trash to throw away, and still yoongi is watching you as he exhales from his first pull. he looks like that caterpillar from alice in wonderland.

“you shouldn’t smoke those little vape things, it’s getting metal in your lungs,” he tells you with a little bit of authority in his voice. you watch him as he pouts his pretty lips and closes them around the blunt, their slight downward slope mesmerizing as he breathes in. 

“well if you didn’t take so damn long to refill our stash i wouldn’t need these little vape things to get a buzz,” you bite back, graciously taking the blunt as he passes it back to you. you watch him hold the smoke just a second longer before pursing his lips to slowly let it all out. you’re still thinking about his lips when he speaks again. 

“do you like edibles?”

“um, it depends,” you reply. “what kind?”

“how many are there?” he asks, curious. 

“why, are you trying to expand your business portfolio?” you joke. “but really anything that you can use butter in, or infuse cbd oil somehow can be an edible i think. but i like brownies the best.”

“so, hypothetically, if i made weed brownies, could i make them here? and could you maybe help me with the recipe?”

“sure, but why do you need to make them here?”

“to hang out with you,” he says with a shrug. “is that ok?”

“that’s ok,” you reply, wondering if your heart is beating fast because of the blunt or the idea that yoongi wants to spend more time with you. “when?”

“are you free friday?”

-

you know how everyone uses phone alarms to wake up now? and sometimes if you hear that ringtone out in your everyday life it brings you war flashbacks? 

well, the timer on yoongi’s phone is going off, playing your typical morning alarm, and he won’t turn it off, so you’re about two seconds away from committing murder. 

“yoongi!” you shout to the man missing in action. “your brownies are done!”

you hear the bathroom sink running followed by yoongi’s shuffling footsteps, and you watch as he dashes to the kitchen while he dries his hands off on his sweatpants. 

“shit, sorry,” he apologizes, grabbing his phone off the counter before ending your misery. 

“thank you,” you sigh as you relax back into the couch. you hear his movements echoing in the kitchen, the oven opening, the pan clattering on top of the oven, and the impressed whistle yoongi lets out as he checks his masterpiece. “how do they look?”

“incredible,” he replies, popping his head out of the kitchen with an excited look on his face. “do you wanna be my first customer?”

“i’m letting you use my kitchen, so you better not charge me for trying one of your edibles,” you warn as you get up. your kitchen is a mess, by the way. yoongi might be a great chef when it comes to meals, but he didn’t know shit about desserts before today. so actually, he’s using your kitchen AND your baking expertise, you should get the entire batch for free. 

“i’m not gonna charge you,” he agrees with a roll of his eyes. “this time.”

“how much are you gonna take?” you ask, peering over his shoulder as he slices the pan of sweets into bite size portions. you get the urge to lean your head on his shoulder as he does, but you’re not sure if that would be weird, so you’ll settle with standing close enough to feel his warmth along with the warmth of the brownies. “just one to start?”

“i’m not sure i did this right, so one could be too much or not enough. it’s better to be safe and start small,” he explains.

“god, look at the delinquent who brought drugs into my home being responsible,” you tease. “it’s cute.”

“i don’t think you’re supposed to call your dealer cute,” he counters.

“good thing you’re not just my dealer, then,” you quip back as you snatch a piece from the corner, the best piece of any brownie, illegal or not. 

“wait,” he semi-shouts, grabbing your hand before you pop the piece into your mouth. “should we have a plan before we take them?”

“what do you mean, a plan?”

“like if something happens,” he explains, a nervous look in his eyes. “maybe i won’t try one, so i can keep an eye on you in case i made them wrong.”

“yoongi, we’ll be fine,” you assure him, picking up another piece and holding it out to him. “i won’t take it without you.”

“is this the peer pressure to do drugs that adults are always talking about?” he asks as he carefully takes the brownie from your hand. again, your hands brush, but this time yoongi just stays there, sort of cupping your hands in his even though you’ve already passed the contraband to him. you whisper his name, snapping him out of whatever thoughts were clouding his head, and he pulls his gaze up to your eyes, which have an excited glint in them that yoongi wants to see over and over again. he especially wants to be the reason for it, but he’ll settle for the simple pleasure of enjoying how it highlights the flecks of light that dance over your eyes. and now you’re noticing the way he’s staring at you, and it’s making your hands clam up, so you try to clear the air. 

“so, do we cheers with these before we take them or what?” you joke, and you’re rewarded with a silent chuckle and the shaking of yoongi’s broad shoulders. 

“i’m not sure, you’re the edible expert,” he replies. “we should just take them.”

“whatever you say, boss man.”

-

taking the edible was easy enough. waiting for it to kick in was another story. 

first of all, you and yoongi both have had butterfly fueled jitters around each other since the longing gaze you shared in the kitchen. that awkwardness was paired with the anxious jabbering of yoongi as he questioned every feeling, sight and sound, questioning if “this is what it feels like.” 

second of all, jimin and taehyung somehow found out you had a whole pan of weed brownies and quickly made their way over, and they might have mentioned this to hoseok too. he’s bringing pizza though, so you’re not mad about that. you had planned on watching your favorite movie with yoongi tonight, so the more the merrier? and also pizza. you were looking forward to that more than having your home invaded by three extra boys.

on top of your house being invaded by boys, you’re starting to wonder what’s going on between you and yoongi all while your mind starts to slowly drift away with your ability to focus. right now you can only think about how yoongi is starting to lean into you more and more and also did he look that good when he first got here? he’s never wearing much more than pajamas of some sort, but today he looks a little more put together than usual. it’s not a drastic difference, he’s wearing adidas track pants paired with a baggy, black button up, so anyone else wouldn’t think much of this outfit choice. but...did he dress up for this? is he trying to impress you? meanwhile, you’re wearing pajama shorts and a t shirt that’s so old it’s basically a family heirloom. 

having jimin and taehyung here keeps you distracted from the way yoongi keeps nervously running his hands over his thighs, and you definitely need a distraction from that. you started the movie a few minutes ago, but you swear you could just sit here watching yoongi and be just as entertained. 

“you know that wasn’t in the original script?” yoongi asks, snapping you out of your thoughts with his little fun fact.

“yeah, i knew that,” you reply, noticing how close he is to you now. taehyung took up the other side of the couch with his big ass self, so you’re slightly squished up next to yoongi in the corner and his eyes keep flitting around, like he’s equally excited and nervous about your proximity. “i thought you said you hadn’t watched this before though.”

“i haven’t,” he responds with a shrug. 

“then how did you know that?”

“...i read the imdb page before i got here.”

“nerd,” you tease, smiling at the thought that yoongi takes an interest in what you like. you’re about to share your own bit of trivia about the movie (because you could talk about it for hours) but hoseok banging on your door stops you.

“special delivery! yummy pizza!! give me weed!!!” hobi shouts from the other side of your door. you rush to your feet to answer it, hopefully to put a stop to his yelling before neighbors complain, but the edible is starting to hit and your knees suddenly feel like they’re made out of jello. you sway slightly and you feel yoongi’s hand on your back steadying you before you step around jimin on the floor to let hoseok in.

“you’re gonna get me evicted,” you warn hobi as you open the door, and he responds by kissing the top of your head. he makes his way to the kitchen and taehyung follows, leaving a loopy jimin and a pink-cheeked yoongi with you in the living room.

“hyung, are you good?” jimin asks yoongi, and he simply nods. “y/n, can you get me some pizza please?”

“go get it yourself, jimin.”

“you’re a terrible host,” he quips back, sitting up too quick. you can tell he’s feeling what you felt when you stood up, and jimin smiles. “hyung, the brownies were really good. can i have another?”

you and yoongi both say no at the same time, and jimin thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world. his giggle attracts tae’s attention as he comes out of the kitchen, several pieces of pizza stacked on one plate.

“what’s so funny?” he asks, handing you each a slice as he makes his way back to his spot on the couch. you take yours and sit back down, even closer to yoongi now because hobi has taken your spot on the couch. you’re practically in yoongi’s lap now, but you don’t mind. 

“yeah, was it actually funny chim or are you just high?” hobi asks, a fleck of brownie on one side of his face and a piece of cheese on the other. why are boys so gross?

“i don’t know, but when yoongi and y/n answered together it just sounded like they’re an old married couple that spends so much time together they start to sound the same,” jimin explains.

“aren’t we all like that though?” you ask. 

“eh, the two of you are getting worse,” taehyung replies. “you have been hanging out a lot lately.”

“that’s because y/n is my business partner now,” yoongi says calmly. business partners? is that all he thinks of you?

“do business partners talk about how kissable their partners lips are?” jimin asks, back to laying completely on the floor. there’s an awkward pause before he speaks again. “are you sure i can’t have another piece of brownie?”

“wait, who said the kissable thing?” hobi asks.

“yoongi hyung. he thinks y/n has nice lips.”

“and a nice ass,” taehyung adds.

“i hate you all,” yoongi grumbles from semi-underneath you. 

“you know you can kiss me if you want,” you tell yoongi before thinking about it. yoongi looks at you with something in his eyes that you can’t read, and your heart skips a beat. you look away from him quickly, turning the sound on the tv up a little louder. “actually, forget i said that.”

“i will if i can have more brownies.”

-

letting jimin have another piece was a mistake. 

nothing bad happened, he just ended up falling asleep on your floor and now he’s asleep in your bed after a nice group effort of carrying him to your room. hoseok left after that, saying he needed to get home for mickey’s vet appointment in the morning. he took some of the brownies with him and he’s going to try to get namjoon to eat one to see if he’ll do a dramatic performance of a poem or something for a dumb bet between him and jin. 

that leaves you, yoongi and taehyung. somehow there’s one less person on the couch now and yet you’re still smushed up next to yoongi, but you’re not complaining. it’s keeping you grounded, feeling him breathing next to you. otherwise you’d go back to thinking about his thighs in those track pants, and that isn’t good for anybody. it’s bothering yoongi though, if only because he’d rather be like this just the two of you, minus the nine foot giant next to him that found one of your newer vapes. it’s banana flavored, and yoongi finds himself wondering if your lips would taste like candy after smoking it.

“taehyung, can you stop blowing your smoke at me?” yoongi finally asks.

“sorry hyung, not many other places i can blow it,” he responds. “it’s a small apartment.”

“sorry about that,” you say, reaching for the vape in taehyung’s hand. 

“not your fault, y/n,” he replies. “you could invest in a bigger couch though.”

“or you could sit on the floor,” yoongi offers.

“why hyung? i thought you’d like sitting so close to y/n,” taehyung smiles. “beside, you can just buy y/n a new couch when your very successful brownie business kicks off.”

“yeah, since i am just a business partner to you,” you mumble, exhaling the sweet smoke. it wisps around yoongi and he tries not to look annoyed, but you like messing with him. he looks cute when he’s flustered.

“or you could buy a bigger apartment when you move in together,” taehyung suggests before getting off the couch. “but i’ll solve the couch problem for you, for now. jimin is awake and he found some of y/n’s school pictures, so if you’ll excuse me.”

“i’m never inviting you over ever again!” you shout, loud enough for jimin to hear you in your room.

“y/n, you were really cute in high school!” jimin shouts back. taehyung shouts “i wanna see!” before he’s gone, leaving you alone with yoongi at last.

“i was really awkward in high school,” you say more to yourself than yoongi. “but whatever.”

“i’m sure you’ve always been cute,” yoongi responds after a beat of silence.

“i don’t think you’re supposed to call your ‘business partner’ cute.”

“oh come on, you know i didn’t mean it like that,” yoongi says with a smirk, silent confidence starting to creep out.

“i would like a new couch, though,” you tell him. you smile at each other and it’s quiet again for a beat before yoongi speaks.

“you haven’t moved away.”

“what?”

“taehyung got off the couch, there’s plenty of space now, but you haven’t moved,” he explains quietly.

“yeah because the space is on your side, you should be the one to move.”

“what if i don’t want to?” yoongi asks, a slight challenge in his voice. you stare at each other for a moment before you lean in. your lips barely meet before you pull away, but yoongi’s cupping your chin and pulling you back in for a real kiss before you can crack a joke. it’s slow at first, but then you get more comfortable with it and move your lips slightly, yoongi following your lead. you part your lips and he deepens it, the hand on your chin falling down to the back of your neck to keep you in place. 

he was right, your lips do taste like candy. he could stay here like this forever, but eventually you have to breathe so you pull back and let your head fall down to the crook of his neck. you stay like that, catching your breath, and yoongi’s arms pull you closer to him to you’re fully seated on those damn thighs and he’s taking the discarded vape so he can have a taste, and he lets the smoke curl around you before he leans back in. now you get a chance to taste the sweetness on his lips, and you can’t believe you didn’t do this sooner. your arms are draped lazily over his shoulders, and you tap his back to signal that you’re pulling away again.

“for what it’s worth, i’ve always thought you had kissable lips,” you tell him. “but i have a better ass.”

“i’m not arguing with that,” yoongi replies with a smirk, cupping his hands around you as he moves so that you’re underneath him on the couch, lips tangled and the world forgotten. 

damn, you really should’ve done this sooner.

#yoongi #min yoongi #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi fluff #yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #min yoongi fic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts one shot #min yoongi one shot #this shouldve been posted on 420 but whatever