#i’m mentioning the albums here for anyone who wants to listen to these great pieces

[fineosaur]

ok so @nalgenewhore told me to share 6 albums i’ve been playing on repeat 🫶🏽

i’m gonna tag @yanak324 @aryasbadbenergy @agameofstarks @catb-fics @hendrikfaheys to do this too. lemme see your music !!!

#isa tag #i’m mentioning the albums here for anyone who wants to listen to these great pieces #florence and the machine #how big how blue how beautiful #of monsters and men #beneath the skin #led zeppelin #physical graffiti #tamino amir #amir #nothing but thieves #broken machine #slowdive #souvlaki

[princessofgayskull]

Hi sunflower, what's your thoughts on T Swift's Betty being a catradora song???

Me, taking a break from spop to focus on my mental health and setting better boundaries:

Me, reading this ask:

This ask woke me up from like a deep, sleeping beauty type slumber, not joking. I don’t get asked to talk about Taylor Swift often, despite being a fan of hers since I was nine years old (I’m 22 now *wink*) and we are about to find out why. But I pride myself on taking any fiction piece of media I interact with and connecting it somehow to Taylor Swift. I can do so to varying degrees of success (usually depends on the ships and romance of the world) but there are so many songs of Taylor’s that have just fit Catradora so well for me, both in and out of canon. 

Some of my favorite examples: out of the woods (AND IT KEPT ME UP AT NIGHT WHEN NOELLE SAID THIS WAS HER TAYLOR SWIFT SONG FOR CATRADORA LIKE GAH CASUAL TS LISTENERS WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND) bad blood, lwymd, don’t blame, dancing with our hands tied, the archer, breathe, you’re not sorry, the way I loved you, forever & always, should’ve said no, safe & sound- I could go on.

But I won’t because I wanna stay on topic and talk about betty. Now I have a number of songs from the folklore/evermore series that are for me catradora songs (we’ll get to that in a minute) but this one is… challenging. Because I could be like “yes, because [insert casual reason here]” or “no, because [insert casual reason here]” but I can’t because Taylor feeds her children well and there’s several aspects of this song I feel like should be considered.

This biggest one to be considered, for me, is the love triangle aspect. Folklore features at length the betty/james/Augustine love triangle, each of them having one main song on the album from their POV. Betty's is cardigan, augustine’s is august, and james’ is betty. (also I’m going to throw out the gender component for a second; I know taylor says that Betty is about a guy’s apology and I totally vibe with her reasons why she wanted to write a song about a boy apologizing BECAUSE HOW GREAT WOULD THAT BE?) The love triangle makes the application of Catradora iffy at best. Because it’s like, who would be who? I am going to go out on a limb and assume that you’re seeing Catra as James? I think that personality wise, Adora as Betty and Catra as James is not a stone’s throw away from fitting actually really well. Adora’s canon journey is one of coming to realize “I know what I want and I know that it’s okay to want it” and a big part of Catra’s arc is her being like “Well shit… there goes my plans. Kind of feeling like a dumbass rn” especially in s4/s5. 

(That s4/s5 distinction is important; I’ll show why in a second) 

But for me, there’s no augustine. Or one that’s obvious anyway. I never imagined that either Catra or Adora dated or even had any inclinations with anyone else during the five season run- that’s just my personal opinion, people are completely welcome to feel free to disagree. I don’t think Catra acted even out of distraction with Scorpia or DT, and I think Adora was so focused on being She Ra that when she wasn’t thinking about failing/abandoning Catra when she alloted time to do so, she was thinking about the crushing weight of her responsibilities. So you know, not that much time to get back out there. So I rule out what causes James to apologize in the first place- cheating.

Side note about James cheating- I’m pretty sure Taylor confirmed this, in the long pond studio sessions doc, when she’s telling Jack Antonoff (MY BOY JACK) and Aaron Dessner ( GRAMMY AWARD WINNING KING) that James “was a fool!” And James did sleep with Augustine as confirmed in august, but cardigan makes it seem like he was definitely dating Betty before the summer. Maybe Taylor took inspiration from friends and they “were on break.” I also believe that the kiss in the Heart is the first kiss, that Catra and Adora were never ‘together’ together before Adora found the sword and defected (again, that’s just an opinion, but Adora just looks so wonderfully gobsmacked), so…

We can rule out cheating, and I think we can accomplish this and still reserve the essential meaning of the song of “I did something wrong, I see that now, I apologize for doing it, and I still love you” by widening the lens of what the “did something wrong” was (or “did something bad” you know *wink*). In that wider lens really you could fit either Catra or Adora into the song, but I’m still going to assume Catra is the James in this scenario based on how much of her redemption arc is formed around her refusal to say sorry and then eventually doing so. Of course there is no standing your porchlight but rather standing while wrestling a bunch of murderous clones…. Hmm….

But there are some stupid friends! I wholeheartedly believe Catra is James because of the dissing of Betty’s friends. That’s what Catra does to Bow, Glimmer and the rebellion et al., for most of the show and by the end of s4 she has no friends for Adora to even mock (terrible and cruel of me, I know, but it’s true). Also I know people are like “he called her friends stupid and then expected betty to take him back?” but I scream sing the line “WILL YOU KISS ME ON THE PORCH IN FRONT OF ALL YOUR STUPID FRIENDS?” every time. It brings me serotonin. 

Along those lines we can ask “Who’s Inez?” in this situation. When I think gossip no one from the show really comes to mind, well, expect for Double Trouble. But Double Trouble doesn’t ever speak to Adora about Catra. This happens vice-versa, and in Betty, James reveals that Inez told Betty he cheated on her. 

I want to say something controversial… Glimmer comes to mind when I think “who’s the Inez?” And this is based off of two things: 1) Inez’s closeness to Betty, and 2) Inez drags James out to dry, rightfully so. And when I think of that I think of Glimmer screaming “Do one good thing in your life!” directly in Catra’s face. James gives Inez a bad wrap in Betty. Not cool James. 

Of course there’s the pivotal, “would you tell me to go fuck myself?/ or lead me to the garden?” To me this a fun way of showing there’s vulnerability to what James is doing, so automatically I’m led to is the scene where Catra asks Adora to stay, or each time in s5 when Catra risks, basically an identity crisis to let Adora in how she really feels, but there’s always the potential that Adora could spurn her by not returning her feelings or rejecting her outright. 

I think the best argument that can be made for “is betty a catradora song” can really be encapsulated by the lyric(s): “the worst thing that I ever did is what I did to you” and “the only thing I wanna do is make it up to you.” That is what about the song SCREAMS Catra to me. And yeah, it could be argued that Adora hurt Catra pretty brutally (Shadow Weaver makes that point EVEN THOUGH SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO) that she messed up by abandoning Catra- but Adora feels guilt for... literally breathing. Adora is the quintessential embodiment of “pick your battles, no that’s too many battles, put some back,” but Catra picked one battle first and foremost (yes, she had a few others but this was the one) and that was Adora. Everything that motivated her was surrounded around a narrative of surpassing Adora for a multitude of reasons, and because of that she pretty much hurts Adora every chance she gets after Promise. Adora is really Catra’s first casualty, it makes sense that she has to be her first apology. And I think that after being vibed checked back to back by DT and Glimmer and realizing “oh hey fuck, I’m still in love with her” and then almost dying just to not die because Adora saves her, I think much of Catra’s motivation shifts to “how to do I get Adora to want to stay?” 

That’s my logic for how Betty could be a catradora song in canon. Now not all of my Taylor associations are with canon catradora, many of them do belong to uws catradora, because it’s a lot easier to apply the more modern details of Taylor’s songs to a modern au. The song Breathe is big that way. (it’s in Upper West Side, it’s the song Adora listens to and cries to after that first ride, I just never mentioned that it was taylor because my conditioned reaction to bringing up taylor is to have my head bit off with someone’s semi incorrect and slightly sexist opinion that I never, ever ask for) And this ask got me thinking about what it would look like if I applied not Catradora to Betty, but Betty to Catradora. What would it look like if Catra skateboarded and wore black lipstick, Adora wore a cardigan and they had homeroom together until Catra really messed up? What would it look like if they were seventeen when they admitted their feelings for each other instead of 21? What would it look like if they spent a summer fighting but dreaming of each other? What would their love story look like if Catra and Adora were in that town where Taylor envisioned this “same event that affected three people in different ways?”

I think it’d look something like this. 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/31141973/chapters/76952048

what do you guys think?

quick but INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT thank you to @gimme-tea-bitch for helping me with this, being my beta, and listening to me talk about folklore/evermore.

#I am literally SHAKING as I post this you guys have no idea #like vibrating through a wall shaking #i've been working on this for like the past two months #and I know everyone wants cruel summer but my goblin brain is like #AHHHHHHHH WRITE A FOLKLORIAN AU FOR CATRA AND ADORA YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO #IT'S 23K WORDS NO ONE WILL NOTICE #this was supposed to go up with two parts but tbh with you guys i have high key been feeling when jenny slate said #'i don't get the love until something beautiful goes out' #please be gentle with me

[talkfastromance4]

something part 3--calum hood

A/N: This is it! The final piece! Thank you for bearing with me while I took you on this rollercoaster of emotions and for being so kind while I took my break. Much love💕

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking weed, dealing with heartbreak, sexual situations

Part one || Part two

***

Five months have gone by and Calum tried to push the idea to publicly date Missy away as best he could. The guys even tried to help, but inevitably he was forced to say yes. Calum’s reading over the itinerary he and Missy have to follow over his morning coffee. He takes a sip remembering when she was brought in to discuss the arrangements. It was the Monday following the best and worst weekend of his life with Y/N.

Calum’s body language is screaming ‘leave me the fuck alone I’m pissed’ as he sits slouched in the chair, arms folded against his chest and his hands in fists. His facial expression mirrors a rock, hard and unforgiving as Missy walks in with her manager and the band’s PR liaison. He watches her with hard eyes take a seat next to him, Calum purposely shifts his chair far away from her. She frowns slightly then smiles politely to the rest.

Calum listens as the team discusses the arrangement. How it will benefit both the band and up the ante on her modeling career.

“To be tied with one of the most desirable bachelors will increase magazines wanting to feature you,” Christina the liaison explains excitedly. Calum can’t help but snort.

“Pair her with Styles’ then, he’s more notorious than I am,” Calum grumbles.

“We couldn’t get in contact,” Missy’s manager says, her voice clipped as she narrows her eyes at Calum. “It will boost record sales for your music—”

“And we want the first single to be the love song, ‘Through the Dark.’”

Ashton, Michael, and Luke’s heads whip to Calum who has become even more outraged. It can’t be that song; he wrote that about Y/N.

“With the new romance rumors and the song, it will be a hit in no time, probably surpassing the charts of Ariana Grande and Styles combined.”

“No, we’re not having that be the single,” Ashton tries to dissuade the agreement that neither member of the band was a part of.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t written about Missy,” Calum says. His voice is as monotonous as his face. From the corner of his eye, he sees Missy look at him with a quizzical look.

“So what? No one will know except the people in this room. The relationship will last about eight months, until the album is officially released, and touring starts. You’ll inevitably break up because Missy will be too busy modeling around the world and you gentleman will also be touring. Everybody wins.”

There’s grumbles amongst the band, Calum’s jaw clicks in anger. He turns his gaze to the window, sees the clouds rolling in as his private life is being scheduled like he’s some sort of robot. He closes his eyes thinking of Y/N, and how she looked in that flower crown and then how she looked with the petals scattered in her hair like she was some type of goddess. Then he sees her with tears in her eyes.

“Calum?”

He opens his eyes and turns at the sound of his name. It’s just him and Missy in the conference room. He’s getting really tired of hearing his name if it’s not from Y/N’s lips. She moves a little closer to him in her chair, an apologetic look on her face.

“Kind of surprised ‘fake dating’ actually happens. I’ve heard rumors and look, they’re true.”

“Imagine that.” He rolls his eyes.

Missy feels the iciness in his tone, and she tries again.

“Look, this is weird for me, too. It was all my manager’s idea which is insulting because if I need a fake boyfriend to get more modeling gigs then her faith in me isn’t all that great. I don’t think of you that way—”

“Your kiss at my party said otherwise.”

“I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone. And…all right, maybe I did have a crush on but when that girl—”

“Y/N?”

“Right, her. When Y/N showed up and I saw the way you looked at her…I couldn’t compete with that. I don’t want to come between you two.”

“Too late.”

“What happened? Maybe I could talk to her—”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it, Missy, all right? She’s not even talking to me, so I highly doubt she’d talk to you. The woman of my dreams ended things before they even began, and I couldn’t even tell her I love her.”

Missy’s quiet for a moment then offers a kind smile.

“Sounds like you want to talk about it a little….”

He pushes away from the table in a huff then stops with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll play this act if it helps you in some weird, twisted way but it means nothing to me. We’ll do all the proper pap shots and appearances but no physical contact whatsoever. Those are my limits.”

He storms out as he hears a quiet ‘okay’ and the guys are waiting for him down the hall. They try to reach out for him, but Calum continues walking.

Calum looks down at his notebook, sketches and doodles of flowers are scattered about the page. Their stems and vines looping through the words that are constantly running through his head. He takes a long drink of his coffee, letting the bitterness warm his insides.

After the meeting with management and Missy, Calum called Y/N. He texted her. He knocked on her door. It wasn’t until Crystal told him to give her space did he really back off. He knows Y/N didn’t mean what she said. That night they shared was something special. From how she was so perfect with his untimely manner to how she took care of him while he had allergies from the flowers he picked. And finally, to the way they connected.

The radio in his car is still broken, but he doesn’t listen to music anymore, he can’t because it reminds him of Y/N. Everything reminds him of her.

It’s not like Missy is a bad person. She’s actually become a good friend to Calum and respected his boundaries he set up for their ‘relationship.’ The only touching that happens is by her with her hand holding onto his arm, and even that is just for pictures. No hand holding, no hugs, no kisses.

She’s gaining the hype her manager wanted and Calum has remained off social media as soon as it started. When he’s not rehearsing with the guys or doing PR with Missy, Calum’s secluded himself to his home and music room all while being viewed like a goldfish in a bowl.

So, he writes. He writes about flowers in hair, flowers pressed between bodies and flowers held together by a chain. He also writes about strawberries. He hasn’t eaten one since he kissed her last.

**

Y/N’s been keeping herself busy, well, as much as she can. Everywhere she goes she’s reminded of Calum. Especially when she opens her closet and sees the small wooden box she placed his bouquet of flowers and flower crown in. She couldn’t find it in herself to throw them away.

That first week after what happened with Calum she spent it crying and listening to sad music. Her heartbreak had her rethink of past moments with Calum. All of the ‘what if’s’ are now ‘will nots.’ Which is way too close to ‘he loves me, he loves me not’ for her liking hidden in the petals of the flowers.

She ignored his calls and texts.

The first time she saw them together was a month after the whole ordeal. She thought she was in a good place and as she was scrolling through Instagram on her lunch break she saw the first picture. Calum and Missy were walking along the pier going in and out of shops. They were wearing sunglasses and Calum didn’t really show much emotion but if he knew paps were around, he never did.

What Y/N zeroed in on was Missy’s hand on Calum’s arm.

Her heart fell into her stomach and she closed the app without even reading the caption. She deleted her Instagram and Twitter apps that day.

When she got home she opened the box of flowers, their scent mixed in with the cedar wood twisted her heart. Very delicately, she lifted the bouquet from the box. Calum’s chain was still wrapped around the now dry, frail stems.

She should throw them out. She almost did. She couldn’t. The dried flowers were the only reminder that what happened between her and Calum was real. That it actually happened. How could she let that go? Even if he was the one that got away and kept getting away?

“You did this Y/N,” she muttered to herself placing the flowers back in the box. “You made him leave before you could get attached.”

The next day there was a knock at her door. Not expecting anyone she peeked through the curtains and saw it was Ashton with a pizza box and a plastic bag.

“Ashton…what are you doing here?” she asks upon opening the door.

“I come bearing gifts of the heartbreak kind,” he grins sheepishly holding up the box and bag.

“Is that a champagne bottle I see in that bag?” she asks seeing the slender neck and gold foiling.

“It is. And caramel ice cream.”

“All right. You can come in,” she allows stepping aside so he can enter.

“So,” he sighs falling heavily against the couch. The pizza box is open on her coffee table, he has a glass of water while Y/N is holding onto the bottle of champagne. His hazel eyes take her in, “how are you?”

“That’s a loaded question,” she scoffs pressing play on the Marvel movie. She decided on Infinity War. “It’s been a month, so you think I’d be okay. I was told that however long you were with someone, that’s how long it takes to get over them divided in half. So, if you’re with someone for a year, you should be over them in six months. Calum and I were…’together’ for a day so it should have been twelve hours, right? But nope.”

She takes a long chug of the champagne until it makes her eyes water from the bubbles. The sweet nectar bites at her tongue and teeth.

“Who told you that math?”

“An old boss of mine,” she shrugs.

“Well, it’s stupid as shit. There’s no time limit for how you fall for someone just as there’s no time limit for you to lose feelings. You have feelings when you have them.”

“We went on one date, Ashton. I shouldn’t be this bent out of shape over that.”

“Hey,” he pinches her shoulder affectionately until she looks at him. His face softens. “You and Calum always had something between you. From an outside perspective, I get why you both danced on that line between friends and something more. You’ve both been hurt and there was always something in the way.”

“Or someone,” her eyes drop at the thought of Missy. Then she thinks of the photo she saw of them and rubs at her eyes, so the tears won’t come.

“My point is,” he stresses grabbing hold of her hand, “you’re allowed to feel hurt and sad and angry.”

“I’m trying so hard to not feel that way all the time, but it…it’s so consuming sometimes.”

“I know. Before you drink the whole bottle, eat some pizza, we’ll watch the movie and we can talk some more, okay?”

About halfway through the movie Y/N’s hugging the ¾ full bottle against her chest as a comfort object. She never drinks her sadness away, she knows how dangerous that is, but it feels nice to have her head not feel so full because all her thoughts are tumbling out to Ashton. His arm is around her shoulders in comfort as she leans into him.

“You always thought there was something between us?” she asks.

“I didn’t think, I knew.”

“What’s the difference?” she stares at him quizzically; the bubbly made his words confusing. Ashton smiled at her response.

“He’d always tell me how he wanted to ask you out. He’d ask if you were coming to any dinner or party we had. But he was scared to ruin your friendship and in my opinion, I think it scared him how close you two got so fast.”

“Hmph,” she slumps against the inside of his arm.

“Your song played while we were driving that night, you know.”

“Yeah? Which one?”

“Drive,” she giggles at the comedy of it all. “He gave me wildflowers with his chain around it and bought me a flower crown.”

“It sounds like a great night.”

“It was! But then he got sleepy cause he was allergic to the flowers, then he passed out on me. But I liked it…” she takes the last sip of her champagne then pouts that it’s empty.

“One is enough for you,” Ashton chuckles placing the bottle next to the pizza box. He settles back next to her and they watch the movie for a moment.

“I saw their picture today,” she says somberly. “I know it’s fake. But they’re both a catch…so it’ll be no surprise that it’ll become real.”

“Y/N—”

“It happens all the time Ash,” she shrugs. “I’m the person before everyone’s happy ending.”

“That’s not true. Look at all you and Calum have been through together. This damn arrangement is a roadblock for sure, but you two are the final drive.”

“That…kind of makes sense. I can’t tell,” she shakes her head.

“It’d make sense a full champagne bottle ago,” he mutters but she hears him.

She nudges him in the ribs playfully until they’re both laughing.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she says and moves down the hall.

Ashton checks his phone to see Luke is trying to console Calum, too. It was hard for him to act with Missy today. Luke reports that Calum has had only one drink but is smoking a lot of weed to help clear his head and wants to drive to Y/N’s house.

When Ashton has finished replying to keep an eye on him, Y/N is standing next to the couch. He looks up at her to see she has her arms wrapped around herself, her lower lip caught between her teeth, but he hears the quick gasps of her sobs.

“I really hate this, Ashton.”

“C’mere,” he opens his arms to her and hugs her tightly.

“It’s really hard being lonely.”

She cries into his shirt, finding comfort in his embrace and friendship.

**

Y/N’s found a good friendship with Max from work. Nothing romantic at all, but he makes sure they do a lot of fun things together. It’s been almost five months since that night with Calum and when Y/N comes across a photo of him and Missy together, Max is there to take her to the beach or a movie to distract her mind.

Now when she sees photos of them it doesn’t make her go in her closet to look at the wilted flowers. It’s still a sting in the thorn of her heart but it’s more bearable. The first single off their new album was ‘Through the Dark’ and it made her cry. Max found her laying on the floor of her room with it playing on a loop, the box of flowers unopened but lying next to her. He laid next to her and held her hand as tears rolled down her cheeks.

She’s meeting up with Max at his place for lunch and she was craving the chicken Caesar sandwich from the bistro on the pier. It wasn’t until she saw her that Y/N remembered this is a favored spot for Calum and Missy to be spotted and there she was. Standing off the side of the counter looking gorgeous in a spring dress.

Y/N tried to keep her head down as she ordered.

“And what’s the name?” the cashier asks.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Y/N? Oh, it is you!” Missy says suddenly next to her.

“Got it this time, thanks. We’ll call you when your food’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Y/N mutters. She takes a deep breath and turns to Missy. “Hi.” She looks around the shop expecting to see Calum and trying to prepare herself to come face to face with him.

“He’s not here,” Missy says quietly glancing around the shop as well then grabs Y/N’s wrist pulling her to the far end of the sandwich showcase. “He’d actually hate me for even talking about this…and to you but…I’m so sorry. For everything. My manager came up with this PR stunt.”

“You don’t have to explain, I get it’s for publicity,” Y/N tries to get away from this situation as quickly as possible while also keeping herself together. Her neck is warm, and her breathing has accelerated in a slight panic.

Missy grabs her wrist again but pulls her into the women’s bathroom. Y/N’s affronted at the boldness of Missy’s actions.

“It is all publicity, I swear! I don’t know exactly what happened between you and Calum but he’s miserable. We’re friends now and all he talks about is you. How funny you are and kind you are. He really misses you,” Missy continues with a frown.

Y/N sighs. She really does seem nice but she’s still keeping her guard up. How could she not?

“He really cares about you, Y/N.” Missy stresses squeezing Y/N’s hand for emphasis.

“Missy, look. I appreciate you telling me all this. You… you actually seem really nice and genuine which makes it that much harder for me to dislike you.”

“I get that,” Missy nods her head, “but he really, really cares about you.” Her eyes grow bigger each time she said really, and Y/N gives her a confused look.

“Yeah…you um…you said that?”

“No, he…ugh he’s going to hate me, but he loves you. ‘Through the Dark is about you. He told me you’re the girl of his dreams when we met the Monday after his party. I’ve felt horrible all this time.”

Y/N stares at Missy while she processes what she just heard.

“When did he tell you that again?”

“His party was Friday, and we met that Monday to discuss the logistics of this stupid ploy. Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry for kissing him in front of you! I was drunk, I’ll kiss anyone, and I told him I did have a small crush on him but when I saw the way he looked at you it went away. I swear!”

“He really said he loves me?”

“Yes! When we’re not out getting photographed he’s always writing in his notebook and drawing flowers in it. Not that I’ve read anything,” Missy adds in a rush. “It’s just over his shoulder I saw it a couple times before he closed it.”

“Yeah but that was months ago, I’m sure he’s already caught feelings for you.”

“No, he hasn’t. Trust me. He’s become more like a brother to me, honest. I’ve been trying to force him to talk to you and our ‘contract’ is up in a few months anyway for the album release. I want to break if off early publicly so you can finally be together but he’s so stubborn he won’t.”

Y/N laughs lightly at how fast Missy talks. She’s not sure if it’s out of keeping this all to herself for so long or if that’s really how she is, talking a mile a minute.

“Thank you for telling me this, Missy. I…I can’t believe I’m telling you this since we don’t really know each other but I love him, too. I’ve loved him for so long but I’m the one who pushed him away. I’m the one who told him to do this deal with you because he and I only had one night together,” Y/N explains.

Missy’s eyes widen and she squeals in joy. “You love him too?! Oh, this is great. I’ll arrange for you two to meet up and—”

“Missy, Missy! No, no don’t do that. It’s been too long,” Y/N shrugs. “I doubt he’d want to see me.”

Missy plants her feet on the ground firmly, her face turning very serious very fast. Y/N’s a little taken aback at the fierceness in her gaze.

“Do you want to be with him?” she asks.

“Um..yes.”

“And you love him?”

“Yeah…”

“Then let me help you fix this, please. It’s the least I can do for coming between you when it wasn’t my plan to do so in the first place.”

Y/N takes a deep breath. She’s really starting to like Missy; she has a good heart.

“Okay. How can you help?”

“They’re all planning to go to the Invisible House for a week. I can’t go because I have a shoot to do in New York, but Ashton told me that Calum will be there a couple days before they all arrive.”

Y/N mulls it over, her mind thinking of ways to make it up to him. To apologize. To make him realize how sorry she is and how special he is to her. That despite all the hurdles and messes they’ve been through, that something they have is meaningful.

Then, she gets the perfect idea.

“Do you know when he’s going to be there?” Y/N asks and Missy smiles.

“I know all the details, Y/N.”

**

The drive to the Invisible House is pretty boring without his radio working so he hums to himself as he drives. Calum’s glad he decided to head there a few days before the rest of the group shows up. The pictures are immaculate and he’s excited to try out the hundred-foot pool.

He texted Missy when he was leaving, and she responded with an encouraging text in return.

‘Have fun! Let me know how everything goes 😉’

He’s confused by the winky face but appreciates it all the same. He’s glad to have her as a friend.

When he arrives at the building it’s dusk, the stars are just dusting the sky and the house is a glowing violet in the desert air. He stares at it for a moment, taking in the beauty of the panes of glass, breathing in the cool desert night. If they were all here a year ago maybe Red Desert would have been Purple Desert.

He shakes his head in disbelief. He’s starting to sound like Luke.

He grabs his belongings, two suitcases and a duffel bag and makes his way to the entrance. Ashton and Michael will be bringing the instruments for a jam session, so he didn’t pack his bass.

Once the door is unlocked, he’s mesmerized by the space before he hears music playing. Was that supposed to be playing? He sets his things by the counter and walks further in. The pool is lit up in a light blue and purple with glowing white lotus flowers floating on the water.

There’s flower petals beneath his feet as he walks the length of the pool. It’s a sweet aroma that fills his nose. Then he panics and thinks Michael has this set up for Crystal. He does not want to walk in on them having a private moment, but that’s hard to do in a glass house.

When he’s at the halfway point of the pool, the soft music becomes a bit louder and he recognizes the drum and guitar chords of Something by The Beatles. His mouth goes dry as he comes to the living area at the end of the pool to where Y/N is standing.

There’s petals on the carpet and she’s holding a white flower in her palm with a flower crown on her head. He’s at a loss for words.

“Hi,” she welcomes quietly.

“Hi…what are you doing here?” he wishes he didn’t ask such a dumb question.

“I should have rehearsed this beforehand what I wanted to say but I had to make sure this was all perfect before you got here. Um, I’m here for you. I know it’s been so long, and this is all my fault in the first place. Pushing you away and I thought I was protecting myself.”

She takes a step forward.

“I’ve been a mess without you, Cal. I miss you, so much it hurts. I think of you all the time, and that night we spent together. Your necklace is still wrapped around the flowers you gave me and that’s what made me think of doing this,” she gestures to her flowers on display all around. She takes another step forward. Closer to the step of the living area, closer to Calum.

“We’ve had our fair share of messes with each other. And it’s my fault for the last one so it’s my responsibility to rectify it. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me, how much that night meant to me.”

Another step forward and Calum is reminded of that night in his room. How he came to her, now he’s the one on the receiving end. He watches her with bated breath, and he knows she’s nervous (like he is) by the way she’s playing with the white flower in her hand.

“And the more I thought about the messes we’ve been through it made me think of the Lotus flower. It grows through the mud but when it breaks through, it’s this vibrant and full flower,” she takes two steps and is right at the edge of the step. She holds up the flower.

“And it’s like we’re the flower. We’re growing through the mud and I called it quits before we really bloomed. And…” she takes a shaky breath then laughs nervously, “this sounded romantic in my head but now it sounds super cheesy. But when I heard you were drawing flowers it made me feel like we were still connected.”

She doesn’t say anything more and neither does Calum. Then, when she looks up at him it all makes sense. What they’ve been through these last several months, that was their mud.

“Can you say something?” she whispers, “I’m starting to feel like an idiot and that this was a really stupid idea—”

He lifts her up to his level connecting their lips together. He brings her against him, and she wraps her arms around his neck, their lips getting reacquainted with each other. She tastes like strawberries and smells of flowers and he’s filled with bliss. He feels whole again.

“I love you,” he gasps when they pause to catch their breath. “I should have said it months ago, but I was scared. I thought it was too soon.”

“I love you, too. I’m so sorry for what I said that day. I wish I didn’t—”

He silences her with another kiss.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I understand why you did it, sweetheart,” he cups her cheek and gazes into her eyes. “I shouldn’t have walked away like I did.”

“We really are a mess,” she laughs brushing his curls from his face.

“A beautiful mess,” he corrects sucking a kiss from her lips then holds her against him in a tight hug. He never wants to let go.

“Was this too much?” she asks moments later.

“No, it was perfect, thank you for doing all of this for me. I’ll be honest,” he stands up straight to look at her, “I thought I was walking in on Michael and Crystal.”

Y/N laughs and continues laughing until Calum kisses her and she’s left gasping.

“How about we try out the pool?” he mumbles.

They spend a good forty-five minutes in the pool. Soft touches and kisses are exchanged until they reconnect as one. They’re surrounded by the glowing flowers and the ripples they create from their movements. Words of love are spoken and moaned, echoing throughout the space.

They transition to the bed that is also covered in flower petals. Calum kisses down the length of her body, his lips ghosting over her core. Their eyes lock as he attaches his mouth between her folds, his tongue swirling around her bud.

Her legs squeeze around his head on their own accord as she’s vibrating with pleasure. The moans are continuous as he works her over into her second orgasm of the night. When it surpasses, she’s giggling quietly as Calum peppers kisses to her thighs.

“Wow…”

“That good, huh?” he remarks, his lips smacking against her skin bounce off the walls.

“Yeah but…” she rises up on her elbows to look down at him. “Is that all you got? You told me you’d make me cum eight times when we were in your bathroom. Or was that just talk?”

“Oh, you want to be a little sass, huh?” he bites down on the fleshy part of her thigh. “You really shouldn’t have said that.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” she smirks.

“Because now I’m going to make you cum ten times.”

“Okay, Cal, I was just jo—OH!” She falls back against the bed as she’s already filled with intense pleasure.

Suffice it to say, Calum did make her cum nine more times. The overstimulation and her noises got him riled up and he had to be close to her again. He made love to her slowly and tenderly. He gave her gentle kisses and she molded to him.

Before she fell asleep he was stroking her face after she drank some water, he really exhausted her.

“How did you know I was going to be here?”

“I ran into Missy at the bistro I love. She explained everything,” she replies sleepily. She’s struggling to keep her eyes open. “I like her, she’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“I think she and Max would get along,” she yawns snuggling closer to him.

“I’ll take your word for it. You can go to sleep you know.”

“I want to keep talking to you,” she squeezes his lower back.

“We can talk all day tomorrow. And tomorrow night. And the next day, and the next…”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” she smiles closing her eyes. “I love you, Cal.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

**

Two days later the rest of the group arrived, and it was a happy albeit awkward reunion because Calum and Y/N were still naked in bed. They spent their time eating, watching movies, and having sex as much as they wanted. It was perfect but also took a lot out of them.

They were both fast asleep until their names were shouted, and Calum scrambled to cover Y/N up.

“I’m glad to see you, Y/N but I’ll hold off on the hug until you aren’t naked with Cal,” Luke laughs.

“We’ll go bring in the rest of the stuff,” Ashton giggles then winks at Y/N.

“Please tell me this was the only place you had sex,” Michael asks peering at them both with narrow eyes.

“Umm…”

“Ugh!” Michael throws his hands in the air. “You guys better not have left messes anywhere!” he complains walking back towards the main kitchen area.

Calum looks over the wall separating their ‘room’ from the rest of the house and turns to her.

“We’re done with messes, yeah?” Calum grins down at her and she nods bringing his face closer to hers.

“Something great came from the mess,” she agrees and slots her lips with his. They’ll have to be super quiet now. 

Taglist: @calpalirwin​​ @myloverboyash​​  @loveroflrh​​ @iovehemmings​​ @cxddlyash​​ @princesslrh​​  @spicycal​​ @mysticalhood​​ @notinthesameguey​​ @wastedheartcth​​  @itjustkindahappenedreally​​ @calumance​​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​​  @sarcastically-defensive17​​ @another-lonely-heart​​ @devilatmydoor​​ @sanrioluke​​ @mayve-hems​​  @haikucal​​ @thatscooibaby​​  @suchalonelysunflower​​ @burstintocolor​​  @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​  @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​​ @i-like-5sos​​ @creampiecashton​​ @calpops​​ @superbloomed-c​​ @littledrummeraussie​​ @sexgodashton​

#calum hood oneshot #calum hood angst #calum angst #calum hood smut #calum smut #calum 5sos writing #calum writing #5sos writing #calum hood 5sos #calum fic #5soso fic #calum hood fic

[t-o-m-hollands]

Summery: Tom is part of the Firm, a fearless London gang. You are at the wrong place at the wrong time.  

Pairing: Tom and y/n.

Word count: 3k

Themes: Mob!Tom, Peaky Blinders inspired, period piece – this is set in 1961, London.

Warnings:  This story will contain themes such as kidnapping, murder, violence and smut. Also a lot of swearing. Also descriptions of injuries. Also alcohol, smoking and mentions of drugs.  this is a +18 story

A/N: This is a relationship that I wouldn’t recommend in real life. Also, the Firm was the name of the Kray twins gang. I was just too lazy to come up with a name of my own.  

READ PART I HERE

READ PART II HERE 

1961, London.

Years later, when you look back on that night, it doesn’t seem real to you. Your memories like snap shots in a photo album. Just still pictures in your mind of the night that would change the course of your life forever.  

Sherry holding court, arms waving animatedly as she tells her guests a funny story. Flash. Mark’s sullen face, uninterested and dull. Flash. Sherry’s wide and panic-stricken eyes as you heard the gunshots. Flash. Tom’s back, aiming his weapon at Mark. Flash. Sherry bloody body on the floor, forever wide eyed. Flash. Your bloodstained hands as you try to save her. Flash.  

Tom’s hand reaching out for yours.  

His hand had felt surprisingly real in yours. Warm and firm and calloused. When he pulled you up to your feet it felt a lot like being dragged back into reality.  

(Once as a child your father had taken you ice skating. Further out on the lake the ice had broken, and a girl had fallen through. Down beneath the surface she went; into the icy cold water. She would have died, had not one of her friends successfully managed to pull her up to the surface again. 

A part of you wonders if this is what she had felt like then.  Icy cold to the bone and struggling for air; feeling as though the ground itself has broken underneath you.)

But Tom wasn’t your friend. In fact, you had just seen him murder a man in cold blood. You could read no signs of remorse or guilt in his face. You knew then, that this was not the first time he had taken a life. It likely wouldn’t be his last either.  

He’d dragged you back to his car and you’d followed him obediently. It never occurred to you to fight him, there was no point. Not only had you seen him fight boys much bigger than himself on the school yard, but he also had a gun. So, you moved after him, feeling numb all over. Thoughts moving slowly in your head, like your head was full of cotton, and your body seemed to move almost of its own accord. He guided you into the passenger seat of a beat up car, before he got into the driver's seat and then you left East Ham behind you.

 *

Now here you are, captive in a dingy apartment in Mile End; with fading wallpaper and windows so dirty you can hardly see the view outside it. 

It’s filthy.   

With gentle hands he’d lead you to the bathroom where he sits you down. With a wet cloth he washes you clean of blood. Squatting in front of you his hands swipe and scrub until you’re free of red stains, though there is nothing to be done about your pink silk dress.  

There is something so tender in the way he touch you, his face so close to yours, a look of deep concentration on his face. You feel like a wounded and frightened deer as he cleans with great care; as if he’s scared you’ll fall apart at the seams. Any moment now 

A funny unwanted thought strikes you then; if you’re the dear, is he the huntsman?

After you’re clean he leads you out to the living room and he ties you up in a chair and asks you if you are comfortable. There’s shame in his voice and all you can do is stare back at him.  

“Are you in pain?” he asks instead.  

That paused you to think. There is nothing physically wrong with you; no cuts or bruises or broken bones. But numbness was evaporating, and panic started to rise like bile in your throat.   

“No” you answer at last.  

He searches your face for a sign of lying. Content that you’re telling the truth he takes a few steps away from you, turns his back to you, drags a hand through his hair.   

“Look, I don’t want to do this but until I have figured out what to do next you’ll have to stay here, alright?”  

No, you want to say. No of course that’s not alright, let me go!

But you’re cleverer than that. Antagonising him is not the way to get out of this alive. You must stay calm, keep your feelings under control. Even more difficult than that; you must make sure that Tom stays calm too.  

He’s sat down on the threadbare sofa, head in his hands, lost in thought.  

And here is where it can all go wrong. If his thoughts move in the direction that he must get rid of you the easy way, you’re done for. However, if you can steer his mind to a trail where you make it out alive then maybe then you have a chance of survival.  

*** 

“Why did you kill Mark Randall?”   

Outside he can hear people laughing, drunks singing and people fighting. From the apartment next door, he can hear a couple’s argument loud and clear. 

Yet your voice, quiet and gentle as it may be, shakes him like the sound of a gun. There’s something so matter of fact in the way you ask the question and Tom almost wants to laugh. Because here you are, tied up to a chair in his apartment, wearing a blood-splattered pink silk dress; having just witnessed the killings of two people, one of whom was your friend. Yet, you’re as calm as can be. Voice even and soft and your head held high.  

And here he is, and his hands are shaking, and he can feel the panic rising like bile in his throat.  

He looks away from you. To look straight at you feels too much like staring straight into the sun and it burns his eyes to see you like this. It feels surreal. Part from the blood you look like a fucking lady, and the contrast to his dirty apartment; a place he avoids most of the time, is bizarre.  

“Mark hadn’t needed to die if he’d just listened and come with me,” he says eventually.   

“You didn’t want to kill him?” You ask, and Tom sighs. He needs to remain in charge of himself, in charge of the situation. He needs to remember his training.  

Remember who he is, and what he’s capable of.  

So, he stands up and walks over to you, with his hands in his pockets and with a put-on air of nonchalance.  

“I’ve never wanted to kill anyone, princess. Especially not shoot them like that. Hasn’t stopped me though” he says and looks you in the eye. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t like, because they’re necessary.”  

There’s a warning in his words, you both know it. 

“You’re awfully calm about all this” he says and kneels in front of you, looking up at your face, close enough he can see every detail in your face. A strange and unwelcomed image flashes before his eyes; of a knight kneeling in front of the queen, awaiting her judgement. But it is not fitting, the dynamic all wrong. You have no power here, and he sure is no knight. He doesn’t know which role he’s set to play in your story but he doubts it’s the hero.  

 “You’d prefer it if I screamed?” you ask, and he’s impressed, because your voice doesn’t waver. It’s sounds gentle and steady still. But he sees it in your face. There’s fear in your eyes, buried deep.  There’s a gleam of sweat over your forehead, and he’d bet more than this apartment that your heartbeat is beating like a drum right now.  

“God no” he huffs, “just wondering what you're thinking”. He can’t seem to look away from your face and warning words from half a lifetime ago about not looking straight into the sun comes back to him. Warnings that it will blind you.  

“Well, I’ll have to admit, I’m a bit curious about a few things” 

“Such as?” 

“What did you want with someone like Mark Randall?” 

Tom is taken aback at that, it was not a question he had expected. “He hurt one of my friends,” he says, after some hesitation.   

“So you wanted to hurt him back?”  

“No,” he says. “I just needed some information from him.” He doesn’t know why he’s telling you this. Letting you be a witness to a murder is bad enough. Now he’s sharing strictly confidential information with someone outside the Firm. But talking with you delays the moment where he must leave you and tell Fabien about what happened tonight.  

“I knew Mark, he was not clever nor resourceful. I doubt it very much if he’d have any information to give you.” 

He doesn’t know why you’re doing this, but your calmly delivered questions clears his head. He follows your path, like a light in the fog, guiding the way.   “You’re right, but he wasn’t working on his own initiative. He might have had information on his people” 

“You think he’d part with that information?” 

“I’d make him”.  

You go silent for a moment, and he wonders just how scared you are of him right then. He’s still kneeled in front of you, looking up at you, at the eyes he’s admired since he first saw you in school, a million years ago. You blink, and he’s reminded of the fluttering wings of a butterfly.  

“How was your friend attacked?” you ask, and your choice of question surprises him again.  

“Mark shot him in the arm, though the fucker aimed to kill” 

“Were you with him?” You blink again, another fluttering pair of wings, and Tom wonders if this is what it’s like to be hypnotized.   

“No,” he answers, “no he was on his way to meet me, but Mark was waiting for him and attacked”.  

“And how did Mark know your friend was supposed to be there, at that moment?” 

Your question is asked in such a low and gentle voice, and the full meaning of it doesn’t strike him at first,  

But then, 

“I, I don’t know” he confesses, and the realization startles him. 

 The telephone rings. Loudly it screeches from it’s table and Tom feels like he wakes from a trance. He pulls himself away from you slowly to answer it.

“Yeah?” he says, keeping his eye on you as he speaks into the receiver.  

“Fabien wants a report” Harry tells him.  

“On my way” Tom answers, “but Harry?” 

“What?” 

“You and Sam need to get to Mark Randall’s apartment. There’s two bodies to take care of.” 

Silence on the other end of the line.  

“Why didn’t you take care of it immediately?” his brother asks at last.  

“Was called away, alright?” and before Harry can protest he snaps “Just fucking do it, yeah?” and he hangs up.  

Silence fills the apartment, though the street outside continues to roar in drunken songs and fighting cries.   

“I have to go now,” he says, staring down on the telephone, suddenly unable to look at you.  

“What will they do to me once they realize there’s a witness?” you ask, and the question Tom thought would come before all others is asked at last. Truth is he should have gotten rid of you right then and there in East Ham. He shouldn’t have let a witness live.  It was sloppy and just the kind of sentimental bullshit that would end him in a prison cell one day. 

Truth is Fabien will make him kill you himself, probably in the most brutal fashion he can think of, just to make Tom prove that he hasn’t gone soft. That there’s no sentimentality left in him.  

He couldn’t let you go either. Didn’t trust you wouldn’t run straight home to your daddy and tell him everything. It didn't help that you knew Tom in school, knew his full name and would have no problem pointing him out in a line-up. Then he’d end up in prison, or dead, and Fabien would go after you in ways Tom didn’t even dare imagine. Just the thought of what the man is capable of makes him shiver.   

 “I have to go now” he repeats, ignoring your question. “There’s no use in screaming while I’m away. This is not a friendly neighborhood. They won’t come to your rescue.” 

But before he steps out the door he stops in his tracks.  

“You know, you helped me once,” he says, remembering that time you’d protected him from Jamie. 

“And this is how you repay me?” You’re still so fucking calm, even though you both know you’re done for and Tom’s heart beat uncomfortably hard in his chest.  

“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he says, eventually.  

You smile, and it is gentle though it is without humour. “For how long though, Tommy?” 

***

Tom sits in Fabien’s office, a glass of amber-coloured whiskey in his hand and your voice ringing in his ears.  ‘And how did Mark know your friend was supposed to be there?’ 

He had thought about it the entire drive to Fabien's house.  The only solution was this. Someone had told them. Someone had told Jack and his men that Harrison would be walking that street at that time on that night. And the only people who knew about it were the men in the Firm.   

He airs his suspicions to his leader.  

Fabien hums, and inhales from his cigarette. “I see we’ve been thinking along the same lines” he says, blowing out smoke in the air between them. His voice is low and even, his quiet and held back rage evident but controlled. “There’s a traitor in our midst, Tommy.” 

He studies Tom’s face, his cat-like eyes shrewd.   

“I’m going to find out who’s been ratting on us, and why” he continues, voice smooth like velvet.  “And God help the poor bastard once I’ve figured out who it is. However, our only lead was Mark Randall and you tell me you failed to bring him in for questioning and he’s now sinking in the Thames?” 

Tom forces himself to keep eye-contact with his superior, resisting the urge to look away from those penetratingly shrewd eyes. “Yes, guv”.

“You failed.” He confirms, taking a sip of his drink. “That’s very unlike you, Tom. I’m disappointed.” 

To anyone who didn’t know Fabien they might say the man sounded bored, but Tom knew better. The man was boiling underneath the surface. He didn’t need to shout and threaten to make his anger known, it was like a physical presence in the room. “Very disappointed indeed”.

“It won’t happen again,” Tom promises.

“Oh, it better not. I have big plans for you.” he says, and takes another sip from his drink. “Were there any witnesses?”

“No one left alive” Tom lies, and takes a sip from his own drink.

***

A/N: OH MY GOD this one was difficult to write. I had to rewrite it four times and I’m still not too sure about it. Their dynamic is really difficult but hopefully it’ll be easier in parts to come.  

***

taglist: @londonmademedoit  @isthataladybag   @ceexreverse  @daygiowvibe @averyfosterthoughts @applenter @viwihere @youcompletemess @marvelpeters @youngsenpaibaby @duskholland @vanillanestor​ @panicattheeverywherekid​ ​ @primadonnasdream @adorestarkey @johnismyreason @fancybrittrash

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland #mob!tom holland #mob!tom #tom holland x you #tom holland x fem #tom holland x oc #tom holland x y/n

[j0hn-deacons-perm]

Charcoal Dust

Female reader x Brian May

Word Count ~6,100. 

I had this fic sitting in my documents since August and re-reading it, I didn’t hate it. So I guess I’m posting it. A bit of a warning I suppose...it goes get slightly suggestive but not 18+..If you’re sensative to that sort of thing, maybe skip this one my dudes.

With the last flick of your eyeliner, you deem yourself ready to head out to the bar. Freddie wanted to let off some steam with finals and you couldn't help but to join in. The apartment you two share have been littered with projects and materials and he almost strangled you for not cleaning up your charcoal dust. With that being the straw which broke the camel's back, tonight is to just get shit faced and to have fun. At least Fred settled one a bar that isn't too much of a walk so you don't have to worry about driving. Grabbing your coat, you leave the complex and into the cold december night.

***

"Y/N, dearie, you're here! Finally the night can commence!"

Freddie runs to you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

"The boys are here as well. Can't tell you how much work it took to get John out."

Your eyes settle on Deaky, already a bit drunk and waving at you with a grin. "Evenin' Y/N! How's it going?"

"Not as good as you from the looks of it. But I bet a couple drinks could fix that."

You turn to the bar and order your usual mix drink along with a round of shots for everyone. 

"Here's to having a good night amongst friends!"

"Cheers!"

Everyone downs their shot and you finally sit down, taking the empty spot next to Deaky. Roger and Brian seem to be in their own little world talking about something so you don't bother with that can of worms yet.

"Y/N, did you find a new model for your drawing yet?"

"Nope. That fucking Steven kid answered my ad, took my payment then just vanished. Won't answer the phone, haven't seen him around campus..I'm out like 80 quid and nothing to draw for my final."

"Ouch. What does it entail exactly?"

"I need to do a live nude model study."

Roger's ears seem to perk up with the mention of 'nude'.

"I can help you out with that, love."

Brian rolls his eyes and Freddie chuckles. 

"So, me buying you a shot doesn't get your attention but mentioning I need to draw a naked person does?"

"Well, yeah. You should know this by now."

"I thought alcohol and nudity were on the same tier of importance to you, Taylor."

"Close..but not quite."

You nod at him with a fake academic-like expression as you rub your chin.

"Right, so if anyone knows someone who would be down to model for me let me know."

"I just said I was!"

"Anyone but Roger."

"Oh! What about Brian, dear? He'd be a great model."

The man in question glares.

"Uh..Fred, I don't think so."

"Why ever the fuck not? I've seen you naked before, May. You'd be fantastic. Plus Y/N gets to see your cute little bottom and huge cock!"

His cheeks turn bright red.

"Absolutely not, Fred."

Freddie looks over to your face, laughing despite blushing profusely. He knows of your small crush on the guitarist and loves to relish in opportunities making you and Brian uncomfortable in hopes you two would actually do something. Much to his, and your disappointment, nothing ever happens.

"Well I would do it but I don't have the time in my schedule considering I'm going to be stuck in the art building working on my own shit. Now come on, don't subject her to Roger."

Brian looks over to you, finding you playing with a hem on your shirt, trying to distract yourself from the awkward conversation.

"Well we both know Bri's not going to do it, so when can I come over, love?"

With a slump of your shoulders, you face the blonde.

"It's not a sexual thing where I draw everything, you know. You're going to be in a pose you can hold for a long period of time while I focus on drawing mainly your prominent body landmarks like ribs, pelvis, and muscles along with bones."

"See, Bri? It's not a personal experience, she's just studying your anatomy. With how lanky you are, it'd be easy to see everything."

"I'll also pay you for your time. Might be a bit before I can get the money but you will be compensated. Also if it's too much for you, you can wear your underwear for most of it until I need to get a certain part."

He looks between you and Freddie, a sigh escapes his lips.

"Fine. I'll do it."

Freddie smirks at you and gives a wink before coming into to whisper in your ear.

"Just a heads up, I've seen him naked and you may have to draw three legs."

You turn bright red but can't help but to cackle at his comment. Brian rolls his eyes and says 'fucker' under his breath. 

*** A couple drinks turn to quite a few and talking with Brian ended up with the date, time and place for your drawing session. Now that three days have passed, the time arrives along with four knocks on the door. 

"Hey Y/N."

"Hey Bri, thank you so much again for doing this for me."

He looks around the living room and sees you've set up your workspace: an easel, one of the living room chairs and one of the end tables with your box of drawing utensils. He also looks at how it's pointed towards the sofa with a sheet draped on it. 

"How would you like me?"

"Comfortable. You'd probably be stuck in that spot for a while. I have pillows if you want 'em."

He nods and sits down on the sofa while you go towards the record player and pop on one of your favorite records.

"I like to work to music so hope you're okay listening to the Beatles for a few hours."

"Why would I complain about good music?"

You chuckle as you sit down in your spot, making any last minute adjustments to the easel's height. Turning your head to the sofa, you see him unbuckling his belt before slipping his shirt off. Back towards you. 

Freddie was right, he has a good figure to make this assignment easy for you. Despite trying to stay professional, it's hard to not check out your crush as he strips. When the pants start slipping off, you turn away, too shy to look anymore. 

He is your friend, Y/N...he is your friend who is helping you with a project. Don't make this weird..

But then you remember your roll of tape for the sheet so when it's break time, you won't lose the pose. 

Shit...

"Hey Bri, once you settle on a pose, would it be okay if I put some tape around you so we don't lose the pose after we take a break?"

"Yeah, that's okay. I also might take you up on that pillow offer."

"Sounds good, I'll be right back."

You smile as you get up and leave for your bedroom to grab him a couple pillows off your bed. When you walk back into the living room, you swear the air has shifted once you see him laying in his underwear on the couch, watching the record spin on the turn table. A knot forms in your stomach..

You're working on your final, you're working on your final, you're working on your final.....

You walk up towards him and hands him the pillows. He promptly adjusts them to fit his pose.

"This alright for your composition, Y/N?"

"Let me check."

You sit down back in your chair and look at what you can see. You can see many of the body's landmarks..ribs, collar bones, muscles, parts of the pelvis...but not the strongest for a good composition.

"The pose is fine but I'm going to move over a bit to get a more interesting angle of ya."

You scoot your set up closer towards the turntable, giving a more dynamic angle of your model.

"Alright, we're looking good. Just need to tape where you're at and we can get started."

Hands slightly shaking on the masking tape roll, you rip pieces off and place them where Brian's posed. It's easy to tell he's tense.

"Bri, you're welcome to chat during this if you want. And whenever you want to take a break to stretch out, do not hesitate to ask."

"Sounds good, love. I guess I'm ready when you are."

He's called you love before but now it seems a bit different...

HE IS JUST HELPING YOU ON YOUR FINAL PROJECT, STOP IT

You rub over your paper pad, sighing and grab your hard charcoal to get the initial lines and shapes in. You can see him closing his eyes once more marks land on your paper. His shoulders also slowly begin to become less tense. 

*** Two full albums later, Brian calls break time. You clean your hands off on your pants and set your charcoal back in its box next to you. Having the main structures done and angles correct, you feel good about the progress. 

"How's it coming along, love?"

"I think maybe another hour or so and we'll be good."

"Can I sneak a look or is it confidential?"

You nod your head for him to take a look, his presence now behind your back as he analyzes your work. Nerves become more apparent the longer he's silent. You're about to look over your shoulder until you hear him say

"I'm really liking it so far, Y/N. Fred's told us about your work and it's incredibly articulate. However it is odd knowing that's me on your paper."

You blush profusely at his compliment, even more so now that you realize he's extremely close to your body wearing just underwear. 

"Well how about I grab you a robe and I'll make us some coffee?"

"Sounds lovely to me, especially since seeing how you're fully clothed, I'm a bit vulnerable."

"I don't mean to make you uncomfortable! Let's get that robe."

"I'm not uncomfortable, just a bit cold maybe."

Leaving for your room once again, you grab your robe. It might be a bit too short for the gentle giant in your living room but it's better than nothing.

"I'm surprised you didn't give me Fred's."

"You don't want it, trust me."

He laughs, tying the belt around his middle and follows you into the small kitchen to grab his favorite mug whenever he visits. The silence grows more comfortable as you hear the coffee drip into the small pot and another cabinet opens to grab the sugar. You open the fridge to grab the milk. Your pour the hot liquid as he adds the sugar to the two mugs, followed by the splash of milk you like in yours. Smiles meet each other and you two sit back in the living room, a new record begging to be played. 

"Want more Beatles or how about just some John? I have Plastic Ono Band and Imagine."

"Oh god, that's a decision isn't it?"

"It really is. I'm half tempted to just put Hard Day's Night on."

"Did you see that in theaters? The girls went absolutely mad."

"With that scene with John in the bath? I'm sure I still have hearing issues from that. It got even worse seeing Help."

"George bit?"

"George bit."

Laughs echoed amongst the walls, sharing knowing glances at how loud the shrieking was. 

"Have to love sort of shared traumatic experiences. But I'm intrigued, who is your favorite of the four?"

"The Beatles or Queen?"

A slight smirk dances across his lips.

"Beatles? When I was younger, Paul. In more recent years, has to be John. I really respect his political work and his solo albums are so personal and raw."

He nods at your answer, agreeing.

"But with you lot? No one. Don't tell Freddie that, he'll plant something in my bed."

He answers in a hearty laugh.

'It's not like I can say you before we get back to working on a naked drawing of you...'

*** With Lennon playing on the speakers and more charcoal on paper, you're back at it again. Brian somehow managed to get himself back into the same pose with one or two directions from you. Things are now going easier considering the drawing is now just filling in the blanks until you couldn't get one detail right due to it being covered by his underwear. The more you try to remember how the muscles and bone look, the more incorrect it looks to your eyes. The inevitable needs to happen.

"Hey Brian, I'm hating to ask this but uh...I can't get the lower abs to look right with the pelvis. Could you....takeyourunderwearoff."

The last part just rushed past your lips as fast as you could. Your cheeks are bright red, a tell tale sign being how hot your face just became. It's even worse when he arches his brow.

"What was that last part?"

You sigh deeply.

"Could you...take your underwear off so I can get your pelvis a bit better?"

"Oh...uh, yeah."

His cheeks probably match yours but you cover your eyes while he strips the last bit of cloth standing between him being completely exposed in front of you.  

"Alright Y/N, you can look now."

His nervous laughter is puntuated with your eyes opening again. While you have a clearer view of the muscles in question, you also have a clearer view of other things.

You now understand why it's called a happy trail. 

Correcting his angles once again, you start where you just left off. Only to have the record stop playing, meaning you had to stand up and change the music. Meaning probably a clear view of his, what Freddie called, 'his third leg'. Hands slightly shakey as they remove the vinyl and put it back in its respective sleeve. Fingers lead their way towards Revolver, your go-to homework album. Once the intro of Taxman plays, you make your way back to your seat. During which, your peripheral vision does you dirty. 

Fred wasn't entirely kidding. Dear god, Y/N, you're almost done just finish your damn project so Bri can go home and you can take a cold shower...

You sit back down and sigh, taking your charcoal and getting back to work, correcting any inaccuracies caused by his underwear being in the way and adding more to his figure. Side one is over far too soon, causing you to get up and be betrayed by your eyes once again.

At least now it's just adding a bit of definition to the head and small details. Taking the blunt end of your charcoal stick, you begin adding some hair to the drawing. The couple hairs on his chest, a gesture of pubic hair and some messy lines for the curls on top of his head. Staring at his face now, he peeks his eyes open and winks at you then smiles. 

"I thought you weren't going to draw my face?"

"Just a little something so it's not just a blank shape."

"Alright. Do you want my eyes open or closed?"

"Do what you want, Bri."

His eyes land on the legs of your easel, moving them around a bit to follow the smudges of paint and charcoal about. Your eyes trace along the angles of his face, adding them to the basic head shape you added during the beginning steps. Browbone, cheeks, nose, eyes, brows, and gesture of his slightly open mouth put down on paper as you mark it done. Looking at the lower right corner of your paper and taking your thin marker, you write your name, class session, semester, and model's first name. 

"Alright Bri, I think we're good to go. Want to come take a look?"

Standing up and putting your robe back on, he walks behind the chair. His eyes take in the final composition, from the pillows to his curls all the way down to how to managed to get the angle right on his feet. The sofa, while made of basic abstract shapes, make him look like he's properly weighed out on the cushions. 

"It's weird seeing me like that."

"I bet. Talking with some of the models outside of class, they tell me it takes some getting used to seeing shit like this."

"Seeing what others see in your naked body is very...daunting. I think you made me look too good to be honest."

"I just drew what I saw, May."

You look up behind you and catch him blushing, looking down at you while smiling.

"You are incredibly talented, Y/N. If you don't get an A, I'm taking personal offense with your instructor."

You blush hard at the compliment while laughing at his comment. 

"Honestly, I would too. You made a beautiful model, Bri. It was an honor to draw you."

Why did I just say that?..

He looks away, face looking shy. He takes compliments almost as bad as you. He sits down back on the sofa, looking at you.

"Now, you did say at the bar that I'd be compensated for my time."

"That I did."

You start to pack away your drawing supplies before digging a can of hairspray out of your backpack. Spraying a light coat over your drawing, you let it dry before packing it away for safe keeping.

 His eyes watch you dismantle your workspace, showing him something you've done nearly a hundred times over. Little did you know, seeing you in your element like this made his heart swell. Brian knew you were an art student but never saw you at work. Little did he know, yours did the same when you saw him at practice or on stage. After cleaning up and putting furniture back in their right spots, you sit down in the chair to only find Brian patting the cushion next to him. Giving him a fake glare, you sit next to him. 

"I've been thinking of payment and would it just be fine if we ordered some take away and hung out? I'd feel bad taking your money."

"You sure? I'd feel bad not compensating you for your time."

"Y/N, I laid on your couch, chatted with you and listened to my favorite music. Yeah it was a bit weird considering I take a girl out before she sees me naked but hey."

You laugh nervously at his joke, blushing for probably the 53rd time that night.

"I'll get dressed and we'll head out, that good for you?"

"Yeah. I need to change clothes anyway."

"Why? You look cute covered in charcoal."

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest like a looney toons character. You and the guys are used to calling eachother cute or handsome but something about him being just about naked underneath your robe after drawing him for nearly two hours makes your heart race at a dangerous pace. 

"Let's get ready, hmm?"

He stands up, clothes in tow as he walks to the bathroom. The sound of the door closing brings you back to the moment. Grabbing your pillows and sheet off the couch, you leave for your room. The slight smell of him lingering on the fabric fills your nostrils as you throw it towards your laundry basket. 

"Goddammit...don't get your hopes up. It's not like this is a date, Y/N..." You whisper under your breath. 

Grabbing the clothes you wore earlier today, you get dressed and apply a little extra deodarant and perfume. By the time you've put your shoes on and out of your room, he's slipping his shoes on. Even in mid-December, he's wearing his clogs. He hears your laughter from across the room.

"What's so funny?"

"Bri, it's Christmas in nearly two weeks and you're wearing clogs? If you slip on ice thanks to those things, I’m not helping you up."

"It hasn’t snowed yet, though! Have to wear them while there's still time. Besides, look who's bloody talking wearing canvas sneakers in the cold."

"At least my entire foot is in the shoe."

"That's it, I'm not letting you borrow my scarf if it's still windy. Not with that attitude."

You smack his arm and grab your purse off the coat rack. Locking the door behind you is the last thing before you two leave for any place that is still serving food at this hour. 

***

Only getting as far as a corner store, you two buy a couple drinks then enough snacks to constitute a meal. The walk back to the apartment was on the quiet side, Brian looking up to the sky every few blocks in a vain attempt to see any stars that would accompany the moon shining that night. Not much for viewing besides the waxing moon hanging above your heads, hundreds of thousands miles away. 

"Hey Bri?"

His features seem almost guilty, being caught in the act but he smiles at you.

"Would it be possible for you to teach me some things about what's up there? Fred's showed me some astrology stuff but it would be kinda cool seeing the constellations and what makes them, y'know?"

"I'd just talk your ear off."

"Can't be too bad, I deal with that already."

You wink as he rolls his eyes. 

"But I'm serious, I want to know a little bit about what you study in uni. Especially since we go to different schools, it'd be interesting seeing another side of academics that isn't just color theory or how to mathematically draw cylinders."

"How do you mathematically draw cylinders?"

"It's all about angles and where it sits in space, mostly. Getting that perspective correct. After enough practice I guess you can just sort of see it rather than drawing out all these different grids and lines."

"Does that tie in with drawing people?...That's probably a stupid question of course it does."

"It does but with that, you also need to keep in mind where things in the body are. In our class we also have to do these...sculpting lessons. We're given half a skeleton on a stand and we sculpt the muscles using clay."

He nods, listening to you talk about your coursework and your subject matters from basics to more focused studies. Once back to your apartment, you find Freddie has returned from the art building. The noises of you and Brian taking off shoes and coats made him pop his head around the wall.

"Y/N, lovie, how did your drawing session go?"

"Rather well! Want to see it?"

"Well of course, dear!"

You grab your and Brian's bags from the corner store and place it on the kitchen counter before heading over to your drawing pad, propped up against your chair. Nerves arise as you watch his eyes gaze over your work, the smell of the hairspray you used seal in the charcoal floating to your nostrils. 

"Fucking hell, this is brilliant. If you get a bad mark I'm visiting your professor during office hours and giving them a piece of my mind."

He looks down Brian's legs on the paper, your careful contour lines elegantly outlining the muscles. 

"I think you forgot a leg, though."

Brian's rolls his eyes as Fred's cackle fills the room. You slap the sketchpad closed and return it to it's spot next to your school bag. A sympathetic look is aimed towards your model. 

"Come on you two, lighten up. How about a game of Scrabble, hmm?"

"It is getting a little late, Fred, and Brian has to get back to his place."

"He knows he's welcome to crash on the couch if he wants."

The man in question looks between you two, biting his lip in thought.

"I wouldn't mind crashing here tonight. I'm sure Roger wouldn't mind the flat to himself."

"Then it's settled. You old ladies get your food out of the kitchen and we start this game."

What wasn't expected was Brian winning with such a lead. You could've sworn you've seen Fred's eyes glow red as he told the curly haired man to get out of his home for disrepecting him that severely. He went to bed infuriated as he left you two out in the living room to watch TV. 

"You sure you want to spend the rest of your Friday night here?"

"It's technically Saturday morning now."

"Smart ass."

He smiles and slowly leans towards you on the sofa, his warmth sneaking up the arm closest to him. 

"Hey Bri?"

He hums in response, eyes not leaving the program painting the screen.

"I never really properly thanked you for helping me with my assignment. You honestly saved my grade modeling for me."

He turns his head to face you, eyes looking at yours illuminated by the screen's light.

"You're more than welcome, love. It was interesting watching you work. You have this little face you make when you're really concentrated."

"Where I don't blink and my mouth is partially open? That's my focusing amphibian look."

He chuckles.

"Roger does the same thing but that's his confused look."

"I thought his confused face was this.."

You imitate the face you've seen many times during your homework sessions with the boys. Also when he tries to understand what Fred wants to do add extra flair to shows or songs.

"No, you're right. That's the one." He laughs. 

Comfortable silence floats around the air as you two continue watching telly. Thirty meants turn into 90 as the episodes of various shows play before you. Slight comments here and there said but it wasn't until Brian laid his head on top of your head that something was really spoken. 

"I have a question."

"Care to share with the class, May?"

You can feel his cheeks stretch out with a slight smile.

"Would you think less of me if I put my studies on hold when, or even if the band gets bigger? I know we only have one album out at the minute but I've thought about it and..."

Patting his knee, you spoke.

"I could never think less of you for persuing something like that. You and the guys have worked your asses off and if, no, when your hardwork pays off, grab those opportunities. You earned any success that comes your way."

He moves his head to look directly into your eyes.

"Knowing you, you'll eventually get your PhD but sometimes life throws you a curveball and you have to just roll with what it gives you. If it's Queen, then see it through."

Surprise washes over you as he gives you a hug, enveloping you in his arms tightly as his face creates a home in the crook of your neck. This breath along your skin giving away to goosebumps. 

"I've been thinking about this for weeks and um...."

"Did you already drop out, Bri?"

"No, no..."

"Uh huh..." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Seriously, Y/N, I haven't dropped out of uni. I've been thinking about...."

You pull away and look at his eyes directly, cheeks flushed even in the low light of the living room. 

"What is it?"

He sighs, looking down at his lap.

"You."

Eyes going wide, you look at anything but him. The stray floaty in the air, the reflection of light as a car drives past your flat, the one stray strand of yarn or whatever it is sticking out of the rug on the floor. 

"I'm not saying this because you drew me naked and I'm feeling obligated to but tonight made me realize something."

Your eyes finally focusing on your hands, fingernails picking at cuticles. 

"If this does become something larger than life, I don't want to leave you behind. When Freddie introduced us to you last year, there was something about you I couldn't shake off. I wasn't sure what it was the chalk pastel dust you were covered in or something else."

You smile at his words but your heart doesn't lighten up the speed at the rate it's beating. When it comes loose, it's going to skyrocket across the English channel.

"But now actually getting to know you over time and tonight made me come to the conclusion that....I certainly have feelings for you and I don't know what you want to do with that information."

Your fingers stop picking at a loose bit of skin on the side of your nail and you swear your heart just stopped in your chest. Eyes wide, you stare at him. Mouth agape, not knowing what to say other than just "Bri..."

"I can see I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. Maybe I should head ho-"

As he begins to stand up, you grab his wrist and pull him right back down towards your side. 

"Meeting you was one of the most profound days in my life, Bri. You...fuck,...I'm not a wordsmith and I'm nervous as all hell right now."

He smiles ever so slightly but his leg bounces with such vigor you wouldn't be surprised if your downstairs neighbor complained to the landlord tomorrow.

"And now hearing you may have feelings for me? Like...how do I even process this when it's something I've been wanting to hear for almost a year?"

It's now his turn for his eyes to buldge open in shock.

"When you first talked to me about astrophysics and I saw your entire demeanor light up with such passion, my heart damn near stopped. I couldn't focus on anything else but you. Even when you're just relaxed I feel like that. You're breathtaking and I'm pretty sure I went comotose and had a lucid dream seeing you perform with the boys for the first time."

He smiles, eyes looking directly into yours as your mouth just vomits out any word you promised to never let out.

"I've fallen for you so hard. I love your smile and laugh. I love the slope of your nose. I love that you've let your hair be curly because let's be real, you looked real questionable when you straightened it."

He laughs and you can tell his cheeks are heating up.

"I love that little noise you make when you find something interesting in your textbooks and your hums when you're thinking of a new song and your little eyerolls at the boys when they're being dumbasses and your sense of humor and just......fuck, look at you! You're so fucking handsome and that's even with the clogs!"

He grabs your hands, rubbing his thumbs against the knuckles. His smile shining so bright even with the low light from the television that's now taken a backside seat of your conversation. He looks down at your entertwined hands.

"Calling you a friend and wanting to see you has gotten me out of bed so many days Y/N, I've lost count. I can't even imagine if you'd be more than a friend to me but I guess we can find out."

Your smile has extended to lengths you didn't know possible. Letting go of his hands, you wrap your arms around him instead.

"I forgot to say this, but I also love your hugs."

A chuckle escapes his chest and he holds you tighter, a kiss lands on your cheek. Time goes by as shows flash before your eyes, eventually leading to you falling asleep in his arms with him not too far behind.

*** Hours pass before you awake, head laying on his lap and knees tucked in. Sitting up, you find him using the arm rest as his pillow, arms crossed underneath his face. He looks so peaceful and you don't want to take him up but you want to sleep in your bed. 

Dare you ask if he wants to join you?

It'll just be us sleeping together in the same bed and maybe cuddles...?

You brush his curls away from his face, tucking what you can behind his ear as you shake him gently. 

"Hey Brian..?"

He doesn't stir, contemplating on just his carrying his lanky ass to your room. 

"Bri.. wake up, hon. Come on."

You continue rubbing his upper arm until he stirs awake, opening his eyes and squinting at the screen's light.

"...What time is it?"

"Late. Would you want to sleep on the couch or my bed?"

"I'm fine out here, I don't want to take your bed from you."

You smile and chuckly slightly.

"I mean share the bed with me."

He smiles at the idea but eyes are shy.

"I'd like that."

You two stand up, him shutting up the TV and you leading the way to your room with his hand in yours. Navigating the small hallway at night lead to him bumping into you twice, and him saying apologies but you could not care less.

Once in your room and switching on the light, he's greeted to your own personal space. He can see canvases with studio projects painted on them under your bed, posters littering your walls. Some local band shows you've attended, a Queen one catching his interest. His eyes also catch your Beatles poster, the one from their White Album. He also sees the pillow he used earlier that day when he was modeling along with the robe tossed into the corner with the rest of your dirty laundry.

"I think I might have a pair of pants you could wear unless you're not a pants to bed kind of guy."

"No pants is what I normally go for but if you're uncomfortable with that I ca-"

"It's fine with me, just no funny business, May."

"Are cuddles out of the equation?"

"I sure as hell hope not."

He smiles and removes his necklaces, placing them next to your sketchbooks on top of the small desk next to the bed. You change into sleep shorts as he takes his trousers off. 

Never thought I'd see that twice today.

Shutting off the light and climbing into bed, he goes first, leaving you in your usual spot. Fluffing up the pillows and adjusting the blankets now done, He wraps you in his arms almost immediately, lips kissing your cheek gently.

"You have enough pillows, Bri?"

"Yes. Thank you, love."

"Want me to grab another blanket?"

He laughs gently, kissing your face one last time.

"I'm more than okay."

You turn around to face him head on, able to make out where his eyes are looking. Fingers playing with one curl, eventually leading to caressing the side of his face. Thumb tracing over one of his cheekbones.

"You're so handsome, Bri."

"Ever look at yourself?"

"Do you always kiss ass?"

"Not until the 3rd date."

You slap his arm, laughing.

"I guess with that comment I won't give you a kiss goodnight."

His face contorts in fake hurt. It's wiped off as soon as you bring your lips to his, fingers gently caressing his jaw as you kiss him. Almost as fast as it happened, it stopped. Smiles painting both your faces.

"Goodnight Y/N."

"Goodnight Bri."

Turning back around, you scoot closer to him. Arms around your waist and face tucked near your shoulder, you two fall asleep. 

*** You wake up before him. His arms are still wrapped around your middle and your legs entangled with one anothers. Your bladder urging you out of the warm confines of your bed, you carefully move out of his grasp to not awake him. Mission was successful as you close the door behind you, hearing Freddie in the kitchen as you walk to the bathroom. After giving yourself a pep talk while washing you hands, you face your roommate, face giving you a smirk.

"Y/N....I saw his god awful shoes by the door but he wasn't on the couch. Please tell me the details, darling!"

"Nothing really happened, Fred! We ended up talking after you went to bed and he sort of told me he had feelings for me and we passed out on the couch."

"He finally told you? About fucking time! You have no idea how much Roger got on his case. Even Deaky was begging him to shut up and ask you out. 'Oh how is Y/N doing? Is she free sometime soon, Fred? What should I get her for Christmas? What does she like? Do you think she likes me?'....every practice Y/N..every practice."

"At least I finally got around to it, Freddie."

He wrapped his arms around you, voice heavy with sleep.

"Now I get to annoy you about her even more now that we're dating."

Brian kisses your neck as Freddie pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Please don't subject us to that. We've suffered enough, dear."

***

aaaay, it’s done! Tbh, I got the idea for this fic after looking through some of my life drawing sketches. Also, a tip with charcoal or chalk pastel drawings from an art student...use hair spray. It’s cheaper than fixitive spray, works just as well, doesn’t affect the colors in chalk pastels, and doesn’t harm your lungs with the fumes (not nearly as badly, anyway). Besides that, thank you so much for reading, liking, reblogging, etc 💖💖

#queen #queen band #queen fanfiction #brian may imagine #brian may fanfiction #brian may x reader

[1-800-imagine]

autumn’s song

sero x reader

✎ genre: angst, pro hero au? 

✎ warnings: angst, major and implied death

✎ word count: 2.5k

✎ inside scoop: this fic is inspired by autumn’s song by stephen day for more than obvious reasons, and i personally recommend you listen along as you read (you can click here for that). of course you don’t have to if you don’t want to -- whatever optimizes your reading experience. 

on a separate note, i’ll probably get some more time to finish up some pieces this weekend that’s honestly debatable but we’ll see. so if you’d like, you can go ahead and request something. 

✎ synopsis: fall had always been a tough time for sero, seeing that it had always reminded him of you.

the last thing sero ever wanted to do was get so hung up on the past -- it was the last thing you ever wished for him. though it’s tough when everything seems to bring back so many memories. 

even the entire season of fall brought him back to times when you were around. afterall autumn was just filled with so many great memories of your relationship. 

swinging through the awfully familiar city of musutafu, sero can feel the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes -- threatening to roll down his cheeks at any given minute.

the tape hero stops at the next post available. he lifts off his helmet in order to take in some of the fresh air. that cold, crisp atmosphere hits sero’s tear-stained cheeks, along with reels of unwanted memories.

he does his best to suppress those reminders of what once was -- at the very least keeping them tucked in the farthest part of his mind so that he can finish up his patrol. 

“great,” he utters. just as sero thought he could escape his little swamp of thoughts, he realizes his surroundings -- far too familiar for his own comfort. he looks down, only to see your favorite, seasonal spot, surprised that it was still running its usual business after all this time. 

right as the hero boarded up those old memories, the floodgates seem open right back up. this time hitting him harder than the bullet trains running all through japan. 

sero felt the wind cascade through his long hair, tickling the back of his neck. he felt your hand in his own -- fingers intertwined. the sound of leaves crunching filled his ears with every step along this newer, unknown path. 

your destination, to you, was a mystery -- a surprise actually. sero had always seemed to cross paths with this little cafe on his way to pick you up from your hero work. he was actually quite alarmed, when you said you hadn't heard of it since you passed by almost everyday. 

well, sero gave you the benefit of the doubt considering it was a small place -- family-owned he assumed. a quaint little shop, lodged between two much taller, corporate buildings. in short: it was very easy to skip past the place. 

when the two of you had stepped inside, you were greeted with a sense of shelter from the cold, bitter outside. that smell of sweet pastries filled your numbed noses. the space was a lot smaller than it appeared to be.

it was empty too, the only other people inside were an older couple, but they didn’t seem much older than the two of you. 

the older man wore a mossy green cap, despite there being no sun needed to be shielded from. a narrow, grey streak weaved through the woman’s hair, contrasting its natural, dark tones. it was pretty, representing the wisdom she gained in her years of living. 

“ah welcome,” a voice called out. it was the older woman’s voice -- smooth and sweet like honey. “what a lovely young couple,” she mentioned, “you two must’ve been dating for quite a while, yeah?”  her question earned a rosy shade from sero’s cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears; and a nervous chuckle was all you could seem to muster up. 

“you don’t have to answer her,” the older man, who was presumed to be the woman’s husband, interrupted. just by listening to the tone in his voice alone, sero could tell the man was clearly displeased with the woman’s antics. 

the older woman gestured for the two of you to come inside. “we don’t get too many people coming by,” she spoke. “i think that’s obvious,” her husband interjected. 

the wife gestured to you two to come in, she made the both of you feel very welcomed -- like a part of their little family. “we’re glad you chose to stay” the husband observed, “we’re the kokawa’s by the way.”

the lady maneuvered around the tables, claiming that the one directly in the center was the most perfect. she handed you two some paper menus as you sat down and got yourselves comfortable. “thank you kokawa-sama” sero thanked, scanning over some of his options. 

“please, call me chiyoko,” the older woman requested, “and that is isamu.” she was very casual, inviting you to use both her and her husband’s first names. in return, you had offered your names to the couple, “i’m (y/n), and that’s hanta.” sero felt so giddy inside when you pronounced his name, like a little kid on the swing set. it was just that he always loved how his name rolled off your tongue. 

chiyoko shared some of the couple’s favorite items with the two of you, “i recommend the yuzu honey, it can be served hot or cold,” she explained, “the hojicha is a favorite of isamu’s; though, i would only indulge after a big meal.”

your eyes seemed to have lit up at something chiyoko recommended, and sero knew exactly what it was. given the two of you had been dating for a year or so, he was able to read you like the back of his hand. 

“i think the yuzu honey sounds great,” you ordered -- just as sero predicted, a silly, little smirk gracing his lips. he knew how much you loved that sweet, citrus tea rain or shine. “and what about you?” chiyoko had seemed to catch sero off guard. “i, uh, yuzu honey as well please,” he uttered. 

“so the two yuzu honey? that’s all?” chiyoko affirms. you respond with a small nod. 

the older woman takes the menus and walks to the back, leaving the two of you alone for a moment. “thank you hanta,” you expressed. “what for?” the male asks, hints of confusion littered in his voice. “this,” you answered, “we haven’t spent quality time like this in a while.” 

there was a pause in your words, and you reached out for sero’s hand across the table. “i’m sorry,” you muttered. when you looked up, your boyfriend noticed the glassiness layered over top your eyes. 

“don’t be,” he assures, “we’ve been really busy lately, you know, saving the city.” his signature proud, triangular smile lit up the room. “but i’m glad we can spend some time together every now and then,” sero adds, giving your hand a tight squeeze. 

you found so much comfort in his words -- it was like he knew exactly what to say. 

“ahem,” isamu grunted. he was holding a small tray with two cups of tea balanced on top. from the background you could hear chiyoko scolding her husband, “isamu, quit being so impatient. can’t you see they’re having such a sweet moment.” you watched as she discarded a lonesome tear. 

isamu took the cups from the little tray and gently placed them on the table. “don’t worry about it,” sero assured, followed with a light-hearted chuckle; your lips shifted into a simple little smirk. 

you took a small little sip of the tea from the cup, your expression perking up almost immediately -- like a small dog wagging their little tail. the steam from the cup warmed up your face as well. sero took a swig of his tea, and he tasted the bright flavors of the yuzu, which contrasted the duller shades of autumn. 

“enjoy?” the older woman asked. your small, little smirk spread into a smile. “very much,” you responded. 

while you continued to sip on your drinks, chiyoko even brought out albums of countless, old photos of the life her and isamu had shared. it was a life sero only wished he’d be able to share with you. 

but things aren’t always so simple -- they always say all good things must come to an end, right?

it was the first day of fall following summer -- the weather was much cooler than the previous days. some people even claimed it to be an ominous sign. the wind threatened to pull trees from their roots, the fog made it difficult to see nearly five feet ahead.

but sero continued to fight the both wind and the fog. he rushed through the city, because he knew what was at stake. cellophane had been called onto the scene to support a mission gone awry -- your mission that had gone awry. 

the closer sero got, the more he could see how disastrous the mission had gone. what was once a tall standing building, now turned to nothing but rubble. heroes from all over the board came to offer any sort of assistance.

though he could barely recognize them, but sero even saw some of his old high school classmates coming to the rescue. 

he watched as the tentacle hero, tentacole, brought the leftover civilians to safety, being sure to shield them from any of ground zero and gale force’s uncontrollable blasts of power. uravity, sugar rush, and battle fist had been maneuvering larger masses in order to find anyone hidden in the debris, while alien queen melted away the concrete and steel. 

even sero’s former teacher, eraserhead, worked with the underground hero, mind jack, to round up the last of the villains. 

as soon as the tape hero swung onto the scene, he found the nearest person he could ask for help. he figured top hero creati was sure to know where you could be. “mo-creati,” cellophane announced, granting him the creation hero’s attention. “have you seen them?” he questioned.

the least she gave him was a shake of her head. “i’m sorry,” the creation hero began, “we don’t know of their whereabouts as of right now.” though she made it seem that she was composed under the frantic situation, creati was just as scared as cellophane. 

from then sero did one of the most unprofessional, irrational things a hero could do and run straight into the chaos without any other instruction. it was against protocol -- it was against his own rules, but he was desperate to know if you were safe.  

“cellophane!” another hero called out. it was red riot, a former classmate and a close friend. the bmi hero, fat gum, followed close behind. 

sero gripped both of his red-haired pal’s sturdy shoulders. “please,” the hero’s voice began to grow desperate, “please tell me you’ve seen them.”

“no,” the red-head answered. sero began to drown himself in his own thoughts. where on earth could you be? were you even alright? you had to be. he thought. “but the last anyone has heard or seen from them was over that away,” red riot pointed out.

cellophane gave his buddy a simple nod as a sign of appreciation, before proceeding down the path he had pointed out. 

as he continued in that direction, the tape hero stumbled across a body, which laid dormant and defeated in front of him. he recognized the definable features to be yours, eyes growing wide at the sight. despair washed over sero at his discovery. 

‘no it isn’t,’ he thought, ‘it can’t possibly be them. is it?’ sero knew there was only one possible way to answer that question -- a question he wished he would never have to answer. 

it was almost like his legs took root in the ground below, his knees pulled him to the ground like heavy rocks. sero felt himself sinking into the ground. 

“(y/n)?” he whispered. the warmth of his arms contrasted that of the body held between them. 

a silent bubble formed around the two of you, but all sero wished for was to hear your voice. he wanted that voice to tell him that everything would all be okay. that things would soon go back to normal -- though he knew they wouldn’t. 

“hanta, say something. please,” you begged, your words filling that silence, “let me hear your voice once more.”

nothing. unlike the countless times before, sero didn’t know what to say. he simply just didn’t have the right words. 

you had brought your hand up to hold onto sero’s cheek, and he felt the warmth begin to fade. “hanta,” you spoke out, barely even whispering. every breath containing less and less life in it. 

“(y/n). . .” he whimpered, but it was too late. your hand dropped due to the lack of life in it. “(y/n)” he continued, “(y/n), please, (y/n)!” the tears finally began to fall, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. 

“don’t leave me,” he pleaded, “don’t leave me without saying goodbye.” 

there was no response. 

“you promised,” the words echoed through the open space, “you promised.”

that day japan lost a strong hero, and sero lost an even stronger love. 

just about two autumns have passed since your incident, and there isn’t a day that goes by where sero doesn’t think about how things might’ve been if you were still around. 

he wonders if you would still have been the same person you were back then. he wonders what would have changed. what would have stayed the same?

but sero knows he can’t get so hung up on the what if’s, because they aren’t the reality -- a reality without you around anymore. 

the wind hits the back of sero’s neck, and it brings him back to that first time he walked down this once familiar path. however, this time he can only wish that you were still by his side, accompanying him. 

when the male stepps inside, he’s hit with that same warmth once more. just this time he can tell that something was the slightest bit off. 

a voice calls out -- isamu, “long time no see.” a long time it indeed had been -- just about two years to be exact.

since the tragedy had struck, sero hadn’t come back to the little cafe; however, the male figured he’d stop by while he was already in the area. at least to say his hello’s to the couple if nothing else.

the older woman, chiyoko, emerges from the back room, a tray in her hands. her eyes grow wide, like she some sort of apparition stood in front of her. “welcome back,” chiyoko greets. a relieving smile shifts onto her face. it makes sero feel at home -- the most at home he’s felt in a little while. “please come sit,” isamu insists. 

sero does as he’s told, walking toward the center of the cafe -- the best seat in the house. it reminds him of that first time he visited with you. 

chiyoko comes by the table with a small cup in hand. “yuzu honey?” she offers, “it’s on the house.” sero gives the woman a simple little nod, taking the offering from her. as he sips on what once was your favorite beverage, he tastes that bright, citrus flavor. that flavor you had fallen in love with all that time ago. 

“how’s (y/n) doing?” chiyoko questions. she was always a very curious woman and probably couldn’t help but ask. sero could hear isamu grunting from behind, attempting to signal to chiyoko that she may have overstepped her boundaries. 

“it’s alright,” sero utters, “they-” 

he can’t even give the older couple a proper answer. so instead, sero put on that signature, triangular smile -- like a mask, covering the deep, twisted despair inside. he took a deep inhale and lied.  

“they’ve been doing well,” he wished.

#boku no hero academia #bhna #bhna imagines #bhna angst #bhna x reader #my hero academia #mha #mha imagines #mha angst #mha x reader #sero hanta #sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #sero angst

[crownedbyluke]

Long Road Ahead (Chapter 16)

Estelle Finley has been friends with Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings for three years. When the boys bring her along on a jam-packed road trip to Cape Cod with the rest of the band, their adventures are just beginning. Through long hours driving, exploring cities, and hidden secrets, something more is bound to happen on this journey. How will this road trip change Estelle’s friendship with the friends she’s come to love so dearly?

Word Count: 2,527

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four}{Chapter Five} {Chapter Six} {Chapter Seven} {Chapter Eight} {Chapter Nine} {Chapter Ten} {Chapter Eleven} {Chapter Twelve} {Chapter Thirteen} {Chapter Fourteen} {Chapter Fifteen}

“Dad?” I asked, utterly shocked at the mess that was unfolding before my very eyes.

“What? No acknowledging me?” the familiar voice asked. 

I looked just slightly to the left of my father, the familiar face of my brother Wesley came into view. He clearly hadn’t shaved in at least a month with his scraggly half shadow of a beard. It had been at least two years since I had seen him and now, seeing him again, made me want to scream. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked. 

Ashton had his hand on the small of my back, trying his best to comfort me. It felt like everyone in the house was watching me, like I was living my life out on a television screen. 

“You remember your betrothed,” my dad said, gesturing to the man standing behind Wes. 

My heart stopped. A commitment that I had never agreed to and yet, here was my father bringing it back to haunt me. Aiden Harper. He had certainly gotten taller since we were in middle school. The likelihood of him being less of a giant idiot though was probably very small.

“Aiden,” I whispered, still in shock. 

“Who the hell is he Estelle?” Luke asked, voice full of anger. 

I met his eyes, finding the storm of hurt and rage swirling in them. It took everything in my body to not just run over to him. There were more eyes on us than I wanted for a conversation like that. 

“Oh, I suspect she didn’t inform you. This is the man she is intended to marry in two years time,” my dad said. 

Luke clenched his fist. I felt the anger radiating off of him from the stairs. Before anyone got into a fight, I stepped down from the stairs and stood between the two.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. 

“Well darling daughter, you seem to think that I can’t stop you from seeing this man child over there, so I’ve come to prove you wrong,” he said with a smile. 

It was the same smile I had seen my entire life. One of manipulation and dishonesty. 

“How?” I continued. 

“You see, your friends here, well, they sometimes do great work at covering up their partying or their general misuse of their fame, but myself and my contacts are more clever than their publicist. I have a multitude of photos and videos of them misbehaving that would surely ruin any chance they had at making another album,” he said, the smile widening. 

“You’re lying,” Ashton said from behind me. 

“Oh son, you wish I was don’t you? Doubt you’d like that threesome video from your Vegas trip a year ago to get out,” my dad said, gritting his teeth. 

I felt the whole room tense. This was serious and it was happening right in front of my face. There were stories of how my dad would manipulate people into what he wanted, but I had never seen it happen. Some of them felt more fabricated than reality would allow. Yet, it was reality and he was doing everything he could to stop me. 

“What do you want?” I asked, biting back tears. 

It was no longer a question of what I had to do. I’d do it to protect them. Ashton reached for me again, but I moved away. It was my battle now. 

“You’ll be coming home with me right now. You can move into your new house in August and you’ll stay in your tiny little apartment until then. You will no longer speak to these children or be seen with them in the media. Oh and you’ll be seen with Aiden getting engaged next week,” he said. 

My eyes went wide. Engaged? It meant giving away my entire life to a person who would most likely cheat on me the first chance he got. 

“Elle, you don’t-”

“Fine. If I do this, you leave them alone?” I asked, cutting off Calum. 

“Yes.”

“You will never threaten them or harm them?” I pressed. 

“I promise,” my dad said. 

“Fine. I’ll get my stuff,” I said, turning around and marching up the stairs. 

The tears fell down my face as I reached the landing. I was defeated, hurt, and exhausted. All I cared about was protecting them from him. There were footsteps following after me as I opened the door to my room.

“Don’t do this,” Luke said, a waiver in his voice. 

I looked up, seeing the tears in his own eyes that matched mine. 

“If I don’t, you lose your dream,” I said, grabbing the clothes from the closet. 

“We can fight this, make it through this,” he argued. 

“No we can’t Luke! If he has that kind of stuff on Ashton, what do you think he has on you or Cal? I won’t let you guys be collateral damage!” I said. 

“Little dove-”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

I stopped, balling my fists into the pair of shorts in my hands. That nickname meant so much to me. Luke called me it for the first time after he heard me sing and then he kept using it whenever he was saying something nice or being sweet. It was just our thing. He wrapped his arms around me, taking the shorts out of my hands. His short breaths gave away the fact that he was crying too. We were so close to that happiness I wanted and it was all going away. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.”

He pulled away, pressing his lips against mine shortly before resting his forehead on mine. 

“Don’t walk out the door,” he begged. 

“I have to or else everything you worked so hard for gets ripped from you by that man and I won’t be able to live with myself if that happens,” I said. 

My hands rested on his cheeks, gently running my finger against the stubble growing. This was it. My lips touched his one last time before I went back to grabbing my things. 

“Bugs, you don’t have to do this on your own,” Ashton said from the doorway. 

“Yes I do. You’ll do amazing on the next album,” I said, wiping at my tears. 

“What am I gonna do without you?” he whimpered. 

“I don’t know, but you’ll figure it out.”

He hugged me tightly, putting every last ounce of love into it. 

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, holding on so I didn’t have to let go. 

“Shh, it’s okay.”

After my things were tucked into the suitcase, I gave my last round of hugs. The sound of us all walking down the stairs felt wrong. Everything was wrong. I stopped just short of the door, turning and meeting everyone’s watery eyes. 

“I am so incredibly sorry for this,” I said, the weight of the apology heavy on my heart. 

“Save it dear. They can watch the wedding online,” my dad said, pulling on my arm to get me moving. 

“Don’t touch her!” Luke yelled. 

Everyone stopped again. Things felt like they were going in slow motion. 

“You might be her father, but you will never be her dad. No dad would put his children through this,” he said, voice laced with venom. 

My father smiled at him, letting my arm go. Wesley took my suitcase and nudged Aiden to lead me out of the house. Luke stood there, waiting, but all my father did was smile. Aiden closed the car door after I got in, making me watch Luke stand there as we drove away. Every piece of my heart shattered as I watched him fall to his knees in tears. Timing was a bitch. 

--

TWO MONTHS LATER

LUKE’S POV

“Luke! Come on dude!” Calum yelled from outside my room. 

I had yet to leave my bed and it was already 5 PM. He came by every day to check on me and almost every day, he found me still in bed. 

“Go away!” I yelled back. 

Getting out of bed never felt right or even remotely okay. Since Estelle left, nothing felt right anymore. Everyday was just a different way of going through the motions, barely existing. 

“You gotta get out of bed today,” Calum said, bursting through the door. 

“Why? We don’t have anything to do,” I said, tucking my face into my pillows.

“Maybe, but you haven’t left the house in two months and it’s time you did,” he said, opening the curtains. 

The bright sunshine of L.A. hurt my eyes. Petunia licked my face as she saw the sun. The look Calum gave me felt like one from my mom when I was younger. 

“If I get up, will you leave me alone for the rest of the week?” I asked, slowly sitting up.

“Sure,” he said. 

I knew he was lying from the smile on his face. My feet dragged as I went to the bathroom. Another routine of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and brushing my hair gone. When I came back out, Calum was holding up new clothes. 

“Why?” 

“We are going out so put on something that isn’t sweatpants,” he said. 

I groaned, taking the jeans and button up from him.

“You realize I’m not bringing anyone home right?”

“Yes Luke. Just shut up and get dressed.”

Legs went through the jeans and arms went through the shirt. It was a facade as to the pain that I felt every single day I woke up and remembered I couldn’t be with my person. Calum messed with my hair and patted my back, ushering me out of the house. 

“Be a good girl piggy!” I yelled before Calum closed the door. 

My phone dinged. 

Mentioned: @Luke5SOS when is there gonna be new music?

The muscles in my face relaxed. No tweets from her...again. 

--

ESTELLE’S POV

The setting sun was blinding through the windows of the cafe. Everyone was going about their evenings, enjoying their coffees or teas. A familiar face tucked underneath a hoodie and a baseball hat walked in, the sun behind him making him glow like an angel. 

“One black coffee please,” he said softly. 

Stress from the week of teaching melted away as I listened to him. My iced vanilla latte swirled as I stirred it carefully. The chair squeaked against the tile as he sat down. I met the hazel eyes staring at me. 

“Hey bugs,” he whispered, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Hi there stranger,” I said, a smile slowly coming out. 

“How’s life?” he asked.

“Shitty. I miss you guys,” I said. 

Our hands touched, the slightest bit of relief washed over me. It felt nice to be able to see him again. The weeks we weren’t able to do this seemed to drag on longer than most. It wasn’t easy to forget about the friends I was no longer allowed to see. The moments I had made me feel more guilty than anything else. He turned his palm over, gently squeezing my hand. 

“We miss you too, bugs,” he said. 

I wanted so badly to ask about Luke, but knew it would hurt more than I was prepared for. Ashton squeezed again. 

“He’s doing his best,” he said. 

Tears welled up in my eyes. If Luke was okay then surely, I should be too. 

“How are the kids?” he continued, pulling away.

“Good. They’re still excited about school and spritely,” I said with a shrug. 

“And you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Holding up. I have to be seen with Aiden once a week so I keep my distance as long as possible until our scheduled outings. He goes around sleeping with women in the off time and pretends to be the perfect fiancé in the meantime. Guess that’s life now.”

“I wish it wasn’t that way,” he said, slightly angry. 

“Ash, you know I don’t have that much of a choice,” I argued. 

“I know, but I hate it. I hate that you can’t come over or see us or come to shows. I hate that we have to tell everyone that we aren’t friends anymore. You’re my best friend and I have to hide you.”

“I should go,” I whispered, suddenly no longer feeling up for talking. 

“Bugs, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I should go. I’ve got grading and lesson plans,” I said, cutting him off. 

Without looking, I walked out of the cafe. The pain took over once I closed my car door as it always did after seeing Ashton. The relics of the past hurt more and more and when I attempted to go back to normal or confront them, I ended up crying in my car. The amount of times I had driven past Luke’s place just to see if a light was on was ridiculous at this point. My phone screen lit up with a text, my background of me and Luke bringing on more tears. 

Aida: Miss you. Drinks on Friday?

I ignored it, opting for driving home instead. The drive went by like it always did. My house was empty and lonely. Another thing that was meant to be something else. The exhaustion of the day wore on me as I collapsed into the couch cushions, sleep slowly taking over. 

--

The pounding on my front door woke me from the nap I was taking. I groggily got up from the couch and made my way to it, peeking through the window. 

“What the hell are you two doing here?” I asked, finding a very drunk Luke and Calum. 

“Estelle!” Luke cheered, a giant smile on his face. 

“Again, what are you doing here?” I repeated. 

“I might have given your address to the Uber driver on accident,” Calum admitted. 

“Get in here,” I groaned. 

They shuffled inside behind me. I checked the door to see if any of the press had followed them. Calum fell onto the couch, giggling as he did so. Luke kept staring at me. 

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he mumbled. 

“Shush,” I said, helping him into the guest bedroom. 

He giggled as I tucked him in. I put a glass of water on the side table for him in case he woke up. As I went to turn off the light, he grabbed my hand. 

“I missed you little dove,” he whispered. 

His eyes were sincere and it broke every piece of my heart. Luke fell asleep shortly after speaking, his face becoming relaxed and serene. It reminded me of the first time he ever stayed the night at my place. He had slept so soundly that night that he was asleep until one in the afternoon. My heart ached as I looked at him. 

“He still loves you Elle,” Calum said from the doorway. 

I walked towards the door, shutting off the light as I exited and closing the door behind me. 

“I love him too. Now please go rest in the upstairs guest room,” I said with a sigh. 

Calum stumbled his way up the stairs before closing the door. My head fell into my hands, frustration building. The morning couldn’t come fast enough.

A.N: It’s been ages and I feel horrible for leaving this on such a cliffhanger for so long, but I want to finish this story. It’s almost done. It’s mainly all written and it’s time Estelle and Luke get their story told. So here we go.

tag loves: @tommossoccer​ @bbycal​ @cakesunflower​

#d writes #my writing #5sos #5sos fic #5sos fan fic #5sos au #5sos fluff #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings angst #ashton irwin #michael clifford #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer fluff #5 seconds of summer angst

[rebellionbeach]

HELLO apparently July 28th is the release date for Down to Earth therefore in honor of its 42nd birthday I wanna do a ranking of all the songs based on my personal preference of course. 

(I’m only doing songs from the original studio release sorry no Bad Girl or Weiss Heim but they’re both sexy ;))

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lwCsMQWkN3g

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o7YOM4gx3RE (spark don’t mean a fire aka the alternate version don’t worry it’s beautiful)

8. No Time To Lose:  Starting off this list we’ve got the second song off this record and it isn’t bad in anyway.  In fact, it’s very upbeat and energetic, especially with Graham’s absolutely stunning vocals.  However, compared to the rest of the list I feel it falls just a bit short.  The lyrics themselves are actually pretty dark looking at them with examples such as, “It ain’t no lie, you’re hurting and you don’t know why.”  Don’t know what Roger or Ritchie were going through but damn, anyway, musically the song is also very strong.  The guitar riff is addicting but I feel it’s the combination of, again, Graham’s vocals and Cozy’s monstrous drumming that gives this song so much energy.  Not bad at all from a song that’s at the bottom of a list.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1P17ct4e5OE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_v0bDfZytwk (Russ Ballard version, it’s really good)

7. Since You’ve Been Gone: Listen, I know many may judge this choice but I didn’t put this song at the bottom because of one, the sentimental value it has, and two, it’s not a bad song at all.  Okay, it’s not the best as well but Russ Ballard made a beautiful song about heartbreak that is only made greater by this glorious lineup.  I’ve actually listened to Ballard’s originally version and while it isn’t bad, I feel that Graham really helped cement this song and really put Rainbow on the charts.  I especially enjoy the interlude section that drops into a sweet ballad type tone before dropping back into the chorus.  Graham’s versatile vocals are well-equipped to amplify this song to a new level and not only that but without this song I probably would have never started listening to Rainbow.  Although very commercialized and maybe too light to many, this song holds a special place in my heart and I do love it dearly.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2XDORONuuY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmQBKq0d_-I (Cozy Powell mix, yes it’s exactly what you’d think it would sound like if the drummer was the producer)

6. All Night Long: The second real commercialized song on this album and honestly the last.  However, where it differs from the other is that this song still has big traces of that hard rock attitude that Rainbow had emerged into.  That simple yet beautiful riff that gets stuck in your head, Cozy’s powerful drumming, Graham’s powerhouse vocals, I mean what else do you really want from a song.  Just from that opening riff you feel that rush of just pure hard rock energy shiver through your body.  It really is just a fun hard rock song that, although may not be anything too complex, isn’t bad at all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EeVFTeXs1o8

5. Danger Zone: Danger Zone always stood out to me as a very interesting and different song.  Don is absolutely phenomenal in this song, especially his keyboard solo which Ritchie follows up upon to make a beautiful instrumental section.  I’d be remiss to not mention Graham who hits at some of his highest parts here.  This song really showed off the prowess of his full vocal abilities, hitting high notes with all the strength you’d expect from a hard rock singer.  The actual lyrics of the song are quite beautiful as well I believe.  Parts such as, “Don’t understand when you’re looking for a dame but it’s only a heartbreak away.  And you’ll learn, faking has no return.”  Really suspecting some mental instability from either Roger or Ritchie at this point...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O8FcrH1lDeY

4. Eyes of the World:  Many may be surprised why this song isn’t higher up the list but trust me, I have good reasons.  Eyes of the World is definitely a highlight piece in this album and really is a final goodbye to the Dio era of Rainbow.  The subject manner is very of that era and really feels like it could have been sung by Ronnie.  I think to many this song helped alleviate the fears that Rainbow had gone fully vapid with it’s material (though we’ll see how that sentiment drags on throughout the next few years)  Don Airey truly deserves the limelight here for that incredible keyboard intro that just sucks you into that dark world of evil.  He really makes this song something truly special.  Cozy Powell is phenomenal throughout all these tracks but especially in this track where he’s at his home environment and just listen to the interludes between the chorus and verse, just incredible.  Then to our man of the hour, Graham Bonnet, he just absolutely kills it here.  He puts so much passion and emotion into the vocals that I find it strange how anyone could possibly still doubt him as a suitable vocalist for the band.  Ritchie’s solo here as well is probably one of my favorites off of this album just really makes this song something truly special.  I often like to compare this piece to the Gates of Babylon or Tarot Woman to Down to Earth with an incredible keyboard intro and other-wordly themes of evil and darkness that make it a classic Rainbow tune.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iU__fm6QFvk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzQZoOvzzNo (Ain’t A Lot of Love In the Heart of Me, it’s brilliant and honestly parts are somewhat better than the final version lol)

3. Love’s No Friend:  I remember reading an article that talked about this song being Rainbow’s Mistreated.  That description always had stayed with me and while I partially agree with the statement, I also think this song is very different from the former.  Yes, both deal with heartbreak and emanates a grandiose sense of grievance from that sentiment however it differs in how that sentiment is delivered.  Mistreated, as stated by Blackmore, is really just a guitar song.  The relies both on David’s great bluesy voice that can conceive that anguish in his voice like no other vocalist can (love ya Dave) and Blackmore’s just heart-wrenching solo at the end which is probably one of the most emotional guitar solos I’ve ever heard.  With Love’s No Friend I find that it’s more of a complete package having all elements of the band contribute to the piece.  Not that but the lyrics are much more refined in this song.  I often find Mistreated’s lyrics very stale and boring since they’re basically just “I’ve been mistreated, I’ve been abused,” and the only reason they get away with that is because of David’s incredible vocal performances.  Trust me, Graham’s an incredible performer as well but these lyrics have much more substance to them and I feel just stands taller as a complete song.  Speaking of Graham, this is probably his strongest performance in the album.  You know what part I’m talking about if you’ve listened to this song but THAT part is just wow, that solidified him as one of my favorite vocalists of all time.  The entire song is really just a masterpiece and really just stands as one of the best Rainbow tunes in my opinion.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F1LvViMLKNo

2. Makin’ Love - Oh this song, how can I express my love for this song in ways that I haven’t already before.  Well if you didn’t know before, I put this as #5 on my top 5 Rainbow tunes and I still stick to it.  Let me just say, this is one of my favorite intros to any songs ever.  Don Airey is just magical in this entire album (and his entire career) but he especially shines here.  The simple yet beautiful little touches he adds throughout this song really makes it so much more profound.  That, once again, addicting Blackmore riff that just goes on throughout the song making the listener feel as if they’re going through a lonely yet sentimental walk down memory lane.  It kind of almost reminds me of one of my favorite Rick Springfield songs, Written In Rock, in that manner.  I guess I’m just a sucker for a pretty love ballad but man does Graham make it even better.  The man just had the perfect voice for these types of songs (please listen to Will You Be Home Tonight as an example) and he’s able to convey those vulnerable tones in his voice while maintaining that strong hard rock attitude like I’ve seen no other singer be able to.  I didn’t even mention the sudden shift during the pre-chorus that’s complimented with Cozy’s ferocious cymbal playing.  Overall, I’m just a sucker for a nice love song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRLHHftZEJA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7eRLQyXzZ1Y (the live Alcatrazz version because Yngwie is a cocky little piece of work and gets his guitar unplugged for 1 minute of the song, Graham is a beast here)

1. Lost In Hollywood - The magnum opus, probably not only the greatest Rainbow song but one of the greatest songs ever written and produced.  I’ve already gone into detail about this song in my overall album review but just on first listening you can definitely tell that this song is something else.  The energy, the tempo, is almost seems rushing like they’re running out of time on the record to give everything they wanted to show to the listener.  The lyrics sort of remind me of Super Trouper (the Deep Purple one okay) if Super Trouper was an overdramatic and grandiose love ballad.  It’s obvious that the song is talking about the overbearing nature of becoming famous and the sacrifices one has to make to get to the mantle.  One of my favorite song lyrics of all time perfectly exemplify this through, “I’m gonna lose control, if I’ve been losing you to pay for rock and roll.”  They’re lost in Hollywood, not just the actual place but the lifestyle that befits every star.  I still think that Super Trouper as a song is a more profound piece on the effects of stardom as a whole but this song as well is beautifully written to talk about those themes in maybe not so personal manners.  The song really is just a beautiful showcase of the talents that were the Mark 4 lineup of Rainbow and stands in my eyes as one of the finest pieces of music ever created.

Yeah, I’ve probably over exaggerated enough.  Once again, I’m very biased here but I’m also speaking with my own tastes and experiences in mind.  Despite the constant lineup changes, Blackmore always seems to find the most top-notch musicians and I believe this lineup truly exemplified that.  It’s a shame that they couldn’t continue on but at least we got this album as a glorious reminder of what 5 musicians can do with enough talent and probably alcohol.

Also, the hallmark of all live performances: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5VPzJlUKVc

#rainbow #rainbow band #ritchie blackmore #cozy powell #don airey #roger glover #graham bonnet #well it's not july 28th anymore #i love this lineup dearly #graham is my ichibansan #look forward to the 28 page thesis on why graham bonnet was the best rainbow vocalist up next

[imgoingtocrash]

Made of Iron, Born of Fire: The Fanmix 

by @imgoingtocrash

Listen on Spotify and 8tracks

Read the series on Ao3

AKA: A labor of love for @savvysass’s birthday!!!!

What can I say that hasn’t already been said because we’re both incredibly sappy people in our Author’s Notes? Writing this series with you has brought me so much joy in the last two years, and I never could have hit over 100k words without you. Here’s to whatever we write next in the series...and all of the WIPs we’re working on right now...and only god knows what’s next for us personally and professionally...and most importantly, to you on your Birthday. Thank you for being such a good friend, in both fandom and outside of it. I’m so, so thankful to know you and love you. 🥰

Director’s Cut Below, because we all know I love talking about this series, and yes, that does extend to why I picked these songs. (And also maybe because these song choices only make sense in my brain and hopefully Savannah’s?? Who knows! Feel free to ask questions if you want but let’s be honest this series and fanmix are most importantly for us, because we love the series so dang much.)

My Wildest Dreams by Ron Pope

I spoke in riddles and in rhymes, but my time with you has taught me to simplify, you’re not quite what I pictured you would be, you’re better than my wildest dreams.

We’ve talked about this one before, and I’LL TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN!!!! Ron Pope is so good imo, and this song wowowow the father-child feels, but especially with Tony and newborn Peter a la A Foreign Feeling and A First Time For Everything.

Big & Scared by Raleigh Ritchie

I want to be better for you, let me do that now, you’re my favorite human, so you should be prepared, I’ll help you get through it, when you’re big and scared

We’ve mentioned Tony’s thoughts about legacy multiple times by now, and I think this song really represents Tony looking forward to the person Peter could be become and that “breaking the cycle” mentality of supporting Peter even when he’s not a perfect father.

Legacy of Sadness by Ron Pope

irrational as it may seem I guess I’m sorry, even though I know that none of it’s my fault, it is easier for me to count my blessings, than to cry for every single thing we’ve lost

I have 0 shame putting these two songs by Ron Pope almost back to back because they’re the opening and closing of an album dedicated to his child like...it’s so perfect for Tony and this theme of reflection on who he is and who Peter will become/is becoming and all that entails.

this is me trying by Taylor Swift

They told me all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential, and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have a lot of regrets about that

I wrote something...very sad but also soft recently??? and this is for That it’s about pre-CW Pepperony being separated and the road to them trying to come back together including Tony working on himself and I love it!!! It hurts really good!!! This whole song is perfect for it and I can’t wait until people get to read it.

Be Good When I’m Gone by Four Year Strong

I'm sorry I can't stop to listen, but I've got so much to do and I've got some place to be, the house looks like the aftermath of a hurricane, I hope it stays that way

Tony being a busy parent but doing his best to make time for Peter in his life and making that time count has been something super important to illustrate to us, especially the transition from being a CEO to being a superhero and how that changes how Peter sees Tony’s absence over time.

I Won’t Back Down by Johnnyswim, Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors, and Penny and Sparrow

Tony puts on the original version by Tom Petty in Home Is Where The Heart Is, but I think this cover has a very slow, emotional undertone that’s really great too. The interludes, if you didn’t catch it, have all been featured in a fic previously.

Let It Matter by Johnnyswim

So if it matters let it matter, if your heart's breaking let it ache, catch those pieces as they scatter, know your hurt is not in vain

Pepper in Never Tell Me The Odds ALL DAYYYYY. She’s the emotional rock of that fic (and of our Ironfam TBH) and it’s all because she allows herself to feel her feelings and encourages the Stark boys to do so as well.

Simmer - Acoustic by Hayley Williams

And if my child, needed protection, from a fucker like that man, I’d sooner gut him, cause nothing cuts like a mother

Post-Home Is Where The Heart Is...y’all know Pepper’s not that mad about what happened to Obie. Also just Pepper when someone hurts her family?? I always write it as her sort of putting all of her emotion into something she can control and doing it well, so, this song is all about that.

Tightrope by Nia Hendricks

one step after another, keep holding on to each other, don’t look back, move on and let go, that’s how you walk on a tightrope

Pepperony trying to navigate their relationship and the insanity of superhero stuff and also co-parenting. It’s all excellent, I love them so much, I enjoy writing it so much!!!!

Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan

Never got the chance, to say a last goodbye, I gotta move on, but it hurts to try, how do I love, how do I love again?

This song is tilted towards romance, but if you’ll remember, we’re a Pro-Tony Survives Endgame AU series, so it’s not about THAT...but well...Infinity War sure will hit something fierce for certain non-romantic relationships in this series, huh?

The Bones by Maren Morris

Call it dumb luck, but baby, you and I, can't even mess it up, although we both try, no, it don't always go the way we planned it, but the wolves came and went and we're still standing

Post-Endgame Ironfam!!! Tony and Pepper married with their kids, their family and HAPPY...THIS IS WHY WE DO ALL OF THE ANGST...FOR A FAMILY...WE LOVE THEM

Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas

Considered Pepper and Peter’s ‘song’, as it’s referenced multiple times in the series, and was one of the bigger solidifying moments of their mother-son relationship as a whole.

Mundane by Hardcastle

And I’ve been sinking into silence, dwelling on my thoughts, and in these months, I haven’t felt that most conversations have left me anything but blue

Peter’s selective mutism was something very special to us when we originally had the idea, and making sure we talk about it and utilize it in the right way is something we’re still working on, particularly with the Therapy Fic we’re brainstorming atm.

survivin’ (One Eyed Jack’s Session) by Bastille

What can I say? I'm survivin', crawling out these sheets to see another day, what can I say? I'm survivin', and I'm gonna be fine, I'm gonna be fine, I think I'll be fine

Spoiler Alert: Peter’s not fine, like, a decent amount of the time. But he’s sure trying, and we love him for that.

Jacob from the Bible by Jake Wesley Rogers

Mama, don't worry, it took me years, to say I'm sorry, to see your tears, Mama, forgive me, I grew up too fast, but it's not on you, it's in the past

Mostly part of Peter growing up to become a hero and realizing what his parents--particularly Pepper--have gone through for him to become the person he is today, but that sometimes he still doesn’t feel like he’s making them proud enough.

Compassion Is a German Word by To Kill A King

Don't be so arrogant, you ain't no different to anyone I've met, we're all the heroes in our own film, or maybe the villain in someone else's

Spider-Man being an excellent superhero boi!!! Being kind and good!!! We love it!! Also, I put a TKAK song on...a LOT of my playlists, because I think they’re great.

brutal by Olivia Rodrigo

And I'm so sick of seventeen, where's my fucking teenage dream?, if someone tells me one more time, "Enjoy your youth", I'm gonna cry

I mean...this song is such a Teenage Mood...I had to do it...

In The Wee Small Hours Of The Morning by Frank Sinatra

So, I had this cute little scene in my head that went with this song for SO LONG but there wasn’t really anything for it to fit into so...yeah that’s part 2 of Savannah’s Birthday Gift, a little soft Baby Peter drabble. Fluffy Goop from top to bottom. That can be read here.

Home by Phillip Phillips

Just know you're not alone, 'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home

...I know it’s not original, okay? It’s found family, it’s great, I don’t care!

Comes and Goes (In Waves) by Greg Laswell

And this part was for her, and this part was for her, this part was for her, does she remember?

This song is good family angst in general BUT these specific lyrics made me think of Mary and that they never forget her in their lives despite the other stuff going on (because we refuse to let them).

I Have Made Mistakes by The Oh Hellos

I have made mistakes, I continue to make them, the promises I've made, I continue to break them, and all the doubts I've faced, I continue to face them, but nothing is a waste if you learn from it

No one in the Ironfam is perfect, but they all do their best to try and grow even when they’re scared they’ll never be able to. The ups and downs are all par for the course of this series to us.

Easy Days - Demo by Bastille

Cause I don’t wanna fall back again, back into the easy days, everything was so simple then, little fires burned away

Strife is a part of life, and the family in this fic growing through their loss and struggles and moving ahead as a unit to get to a better place is super central to making the fic what it is...but it’s easy for them to remember the old days before being superheroes and wishing it was simple again.

North by Sleeping At Last

Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind, let our hearts like doors open wide, open wide, settle our bones like wood over time, over time, give us bread, give us salt, give us wine

The way Tony went from feeling so alone to having an entire built family that’s so full of love and everything he never dreamed of...*screams into my pillow* I love this series so much thank you and good night!!!

#made of iron born of fire #irondad #ironfam #fanmix #savvysass #this series just makes me burst with content i can't describe it #also doing the graphics was a fun experiment!!! #mine #mine: marvel

[obsessivelollipoplalala]

One thing I like so much about Queen is that all four of them have written some great songs.

If I have to choose however, I guess Freddie and Brian will tie for the first place. And then it would be John for me, and unfortunately I have to put Roger in the third place. (Even though I love some of his songs, radio gaga for example.)

So who do you think was the best songwriter in Queen?

Well, my opinion is the same as yours, actually lol. I can’t choose between Freddie and Brian. I think people tend to forget that they were the main songwriters for their very early albums, and a lot of people consider early 70s Queen to be the best Queen. Two of the band’s (arguably) most famous songs were written by them and meant to go together (“We Will Rock You”+”We Are the Champions”). People forget that Brian wrote what is probably the most recognizable beat in Western music lol.

Freddie could be so witty and fun with his lyrics. Songs like “Seaside Rendezvous” and “Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy” are joyous. He could really express intense emotions too, such as the desperate yearning in “Somebody to Love” or “You Take My Breath Away.” He really had a range of styles, as shown by the two songs I just mentioned. The man also knew his harmonies! The harmonies for “Somebody to Love” and “Bohemian Rhapsody” are beautiful. He could write simpler songs like “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” or complicated pieces like “Millionaire Waltz.” He was such a great pianist, too. I find myself missing his piano work after the 70s. He could also use a lot of imagery and fantasy settings in his very early work, making his songs feel cryptic.

Brian is such an excellent lyricist, some songs are downright poetic. I honestly can’t listen to “Long Away” without feeling really fucking sad lol. I mean, “For every star in heaven / there’s a sad soul here today / Wake up in the morning with a good face / stare at the moon all day / lonely as a whisper on a star chase / Does anyone care anyway? / For all the prayers in heaven / So much of life’s this way.” Fucking ouch. There are other great lyrics all throughout his work too, like “stars of lovingness in her hair” for “White Queen”, which is another great song (that entire song is poetry, really). His songwriting could be somewhat similar to Freddie’s in its musical complexity (“The Prophet’s Song”), or surprising simplicity (“Good Company”). They were versatile. The yearning in their songs could be similar too, and Brian especially was great at expressing deep melancholy with a handful of words (see: “Long Away” lol). He wanted to connect with the common person’s feelings through his music and he succeeded. But not all of his songs were sad! One of my favorites is “Headlong.” I gotta mention the Red Special, too. The Queen sound would not be the Queen sound without that guitar. A song like “Bijou” really lets the guitar shine, and that song is an example of how strong Freddie and Brian were when they collaborated, too. And I need to mention that “The Prophet’s Song” is criminally underrated.

Ok, so next is John. He wrote the least amount of songs, but a lot of them were really good! I think his songwriting might’ve been the most eclectic. I love “Who Needs You” and think it’s underrated. I love when a son sounds fun but actually has fuck-you lyrics, which is why I also like “Back Chat” lol. The man could write a sweet song about his wife being his best friend and a song about premature ejaculation—that’s range! I love “I Want to Break Free”, too. His lyrics were more straight to the point, I feel like. But that’s not a bad thing

Roger is my least favorite. Sorry, but I seldom choose to listen to his songs. “Radio Ga Ga” is an exception. I really like that one and the feeling of nostalgia it inspires. I think “The Invisible Man” is a lot of fun, and “These Are the Days of Our Lives” had very touching lyrics on its own even before it took on a new meaning with Freddie. But otherwise….his songs just don’t grab me. I’m sorry, but all of the “I’m in Love With My Car” jokes are warranted. It shouldn’t have been the B-side to borhap. I skip it on ANATO. Mind you, I never listened to his solo work (aside from “Gangsters Are Running This World”, which I wasn’t impressed with). I’m sorry, I think Roger was a much better musician than songwriting overall 😬 (please don’t kill me lol)

#Queen #long post. #replies #Anonymous

[radramblog]

Album Discussion- Shinjuku Mad

Usually on a Tuesday I like to take my time with a blog post. Listen to a full album, do a little research, put some real effort into it.

Unfortunately, time is not my ally today. So I kinda have to do one that’s a bit easier- in this case, I think I’d rather go after one of the ones that’s already on my phone, in case I have to do this on the bus or something.

(wait, I drove in today…)

Today we’re going to go into a self-titled album that is somehow not the artist’s debut. Rather, Shinjuku Mad is the second of two albums released under the name- the reason I specify as such is that one of the two (and later, the vocalist would help out again) members would go on to relative fame under a different name- Vaportrap pioneer Blank Banshee.

Peering into this album is like looking at a beta version of what was to come. It’s very much a different genre, an IDM album that completely predates Vaporwave’s explosion of popularity and Blank Banshee’s seminal album, Blank Banshee 0. It’s a solid enough album in addition to this, but it’s kind of hard to talk about seeing as there’s basically nobody who knows about Shinjuku Mad that didn’t learn about it through Blank Banshee. As such, expect a lot of BB coming up in this post.

Also a block of words, because no music videos exist for this at all. It’s one of those obscure albums.

This album opens on Cure for Fear. It’s one of those introductory tracks you often get in albums, at about a minute and a half long, with very reverb-y percussion and vocals and an almost ethereal haze of noise. It’s got these chimes that occasionally come up, reminiscent of some of the tracks from the AKIRA soundtrack, but beyond that there’s not a huge amount going on here. It does introduce a problem, however, one which we’ll get to later. It’ll be pretty evident if you’re listening along, though.

Track 2: Kowloon. I really did forget how short a lot of these songs were, with this being 2:13- the whole 10-track album clocks in at under half an hour. There’s a mix of drum machine and hollow wood percussion on this track that gives it a really interesting sort of feel, and some of the effects on the vocals feel extremely vaporwave- it’s no surprise that the dude behind this went on into that genre. Here’s where I can’t help but hammer on that issue I mentioned earlier, though.

The vocals on this album are quite weak. I know they’re very much trying to be ethereal, the reverb and falsetto make that much clear, and that style very much suits the instrumentation. But it just doesn’t sound great. It kinda comes and goes, but by and large I’d label them as subpar. I don’t really think it’s the fault of the performance either, it’s not like the bloke is missing his lines or mumbling more than is necessary for the album’s aesthetic, but there’s just something about them. They might be too loud in the mix for this kind of genre? I’m not 100% sure.

Resistor, the third track, is the best known song from this album by an order of magnitude. I mean that quite literally, as the track as over 540,000 monthly listens on Spotify as compared to Kowloon’s 32000. It’s kind of shocking, I mean for such an obscure album with zero singles, why is this of all tracks the one people suddenly latched onto?

As it turns out, it’s because again of the artist’s future work as Blank Banshee. Resistor would be reworked into one of the more popular tracks from BB0, Dreamcast, and it would appear that people got curious as to what the source was.

The thing is, aside from sharing a vocal performance, the tracks are very different. As it is, Resistor is a much faster track than the previous, driven by this fast percussion and bassline, making for a genuinely solid exercise track of all things (I say from experience). It’s got a fun little synth solo in the middle, the vocals are pretty solid (aside from like right at the end of the last chorus, holy shit), and the song’s coda and outro are a fun little bit of controlled chaos. I’d put Resistor as one of the better tracks on the album, is what I’m saying.

I’m going to do something I haven’t done in a while when discussing music on this blog- I’m going to jump through a few things. As much as I like this album, the songs aren’t nearly interesting enough to justify a song-by-song breakdown. I think if you listen to Resistor and like it, it’s probably worth chucking on the rest of the album- it is, again, less than half an hour long. But its an album where it’s more valuable on a meta level than it is sonically.

Shinjuku Mad as an album feels a lot like a hybrid between older IDM trends and the synth/vaporwave elements that would become popularised in the 2010s. There’s also tracks like Inductor, which border on rock songs with the power behind that bassline and percussion- in general much of the instrumentation is cleaner than you’d expect from an artist like this, especially considering how muddied much of the vocals get. There is a real focus on the vocals, which as I’ve discussed is a weakness of the album, but I do think it’s possible to look past that issue. There’s some really fun synth lines, some excellent percussion, and real aesthetic. Songs like Human Wave Attack feel stark and lonely, notes echoing into the void, which ironically is not at all like Track 4, Void- with synths and vocals disguising a guitar and drum line that feels extremely garage band. As in, the concept, not the program. Singularity is a song that feels again predictive of Blank Banshee’s future work, a low, slow synth track reminiscent of BB songs like Hyper Object or Metamaterial.

There are some genuine gems on here in addition to Resistor, though. City of No Tomorrow, the eighth song, has got to be one of my favourites- somehow, despite featuring none of the instrumentation typical of the genre, it’s extremely cyberpunk, a sense of struggle and futility resonant through the track. It’s the one song on the album I listen to regularly, getting myself lost in the groove of the bass and tapping my foot along to the percussion. It’s just really good, man.

If this isn’t your first time encountering Shinjuku Mad, reading this might cause you to go back and have another listen, upon which you may notice a few somethings missing. I don’t expect that to be the case for literally anyone reading this…but I needed a segue. This is because, upon the reintegration of Shinjuku Mad and its predecessor Organic Thoughts from the Synthetic Mind into Hologram Bay’s catalogue for the 2019 reissue, two songs were cut, likely for fears of legal issues regarding sampling. The version of this album that I remember has those tracks!

Those songs are Negatives (formerly track 6) and Neon Exodus (formerly track 12). Negatives is another one that’d show up as a Blank Banshee track (in this case, Gunshots), and is actually really solid? Like it integrates a raid siren into the instrumentation without having it sound weird, out of place, or, well, alarming. Neon Exodus is…wow I just don’t know this track at all. It’s fuckin aesthetic though. Welcome to this spontaneous live-reaction, I guess. I recognize the sample this is built around (and thereby why it isn’t on the album anymore) but I cannot name it for the life of me. It’s, uh, interesting. I dunno, 6.5/10?

Anyway, part of the reason I bring this up is that before I want to close this out I have some complaining to do. Said 2019 reissue was something I tracked at the time, and noticed both SM albums were releasing on Vinyl, Cassette (because, you know, nerds), and digitally. But not CD. I threw an email at the website about it, and they did eventually respond (it genuinely took like two months though), but not in the positive. The reissue had no plans to include a CD, unlike all three previous Blank Banshee albums.

But the original 2010 version of the album, along with a few slight differences in songs and in album order, does have a CD release, albeit an extremely limited one, according to Discogs. These CDs have to exist, they’re now listed on the new Shinjuku Mad website. Apparently one sold 6 months ago through Discogs. I need to find a copy, though considering on that site 7 people list it as owned and 72 (including myself) list it as wanted, it’s probably not going to happen.

And that, ultimately, is Shinjuku Mad. It’s a very odd piece of history as far as vaporwave goes, considering it’s both a prototype and also something completely, utterly different. The album is pretty decent on its own, but not mindblowing, and something you could probably live without. There are like two tracks (three if you include Negatives) that are 100% worth it, but the rest are skippable. Which is a shame, but mediocre music has to exist somewhere, right?

That I apparently haven’t discussed Blank Banshee on this blog before (aside from when I was talking about Vaperror) is actually kind of shocking. I suppose, then, that there might be some lacking context. I probably will have to do that at some point, though I probably won’t do BB0 because I like picking the hipster options- so either BB1 or MEGA. Metamorphosis didn’t really pique my interest, and I somehow missed GAIA existing in the first place and still haven’t listened to it. So if you’re interested in seeing me ramble over some of that, I’ll see you then. I mean, it’ll still happen if you aren’t interested, but nobody’s going to make you read it.

Or am I…?

#ramble #music #electronica #vaporwave #vapourwave #shinjuku mad

[welllpthisishappening]

Drew Stars Around My Scars

Hello, hey, hi there. It’s raining, I’ve already lost track of the number of times I’ve listened to Taylor Swift’s new album and haven’t written anything in weeks. Until now! Thanks, Taylor Swift. And @optomisticgirl​​​ who reblogged this post a few days ago from @initiala​​​ about how Killian holding Emma in 3x22 isn’t just that he’s trying to comfort her, but he’s trying to make sure she didn’t disappear. 

Which, like...ok, cool. Anyway, I have thought about this for far too long now and started slamming on keys when the kittens weren’t sitting on my laptop and here’s like 4.1K that may or may not make sense, but at least includes some scathing opinions of Back to the Future. Also, thanks to @shireness-says​​​ for always being like...yeah, I want to read that. 

-----

She sniffles. 

She can’t seem to stop. 

Tears stream down Emma’s face without much thought because thinking too much is a daunting obstacle that she can’t even begin to consider yet. Or ever. Definitely ever. Another sniffle, this one actually making her cough somehow, which is a bodily reaction she was not aware she was capable of. 

Until right now. 

When everything seems to be falling apart around her. 

God, she hates time travel. And magic. And evil queens. And parents who can’t recognize her. She supposes she should give them a pass. For a variety of reasons, least of all the magic that’s cloaking both her and Kill—no, that’s not right. Hook. Captain Hook. He’s Captain Hook and she’s still not a princess, but the dancing was almost nice and he hadn’t even slowed down before he was drawing his sword and the jacket spin was something even her muddled thoughts have been able to cling to, so—

He’d held onto her while her mother burned. Tightly. Almost too much. 

Emma nearly trips over a tree root. 

“Shit,” she breathes, pressing the pads of her fingers into damp cheeks. Her dress is too long. Maybe she’ll mention that to Rumplestilskin later. 

Once they get home. 

Back to Storybrooke. Those are not interchangeable words. None of this is interchangeable. 

Even the trees around Emma look different than the ones she only vaguely remembers from her last jaunt through the Enchanted Forest, taller and a little more imposing, like they’re also aware that she’s one good sniffle away from falling off the metaphorical edge. 

Directly into a chasm without magic or parents and she didn’t even get to talk to Mary—

“Nope,” Emma says entirely to herself. So, it seems insanity is looming just a bit closer than she realized. “Not here.”

Or ever. There’s that phrase again. Two words, technically. 

Two words probably don’t constitute a phrase. 

What does she know, she didn’t graduate college. Or high school, technically. 

“Literally,” Emma mumbles, and it’s almost impressive how that one word still manages to sound as loud as it does. As if it’s bouncing off the sides of those same tall and decidedly imposing trees. “Literally didn't graduate high school.”

Something snaps behind her. 

There are far too many twigs on this forest floor. 

Spinning on the balls of her feet, Emma’s hands fly up, only one of her wrists cracking in the process, and it’s difficult to make out the face moving towards her, but the set of his shoulders is exactly the same as always and that cannot possibly have any deeper meaning. 

“Swan?” “God, fuck what are you—” Emma is out of breath. That’s absurd. And a rather unfair commentary on her lungs ability to function. She’s had something of a day, after all. Running a hand over her face, she does her best to retain her higher brain functions, but that’s admittedly difficult when there’s moonlight gleaming from the point of Killian’s sword. 

Captain Hook. 

Captain. Hook. 

Maybe the state of her lungs is partially his fault. He really held on very tightly. 

“What are you doing out here?” Emma manages to get out, once she’s taken another pitiful breath. She hopes her lips don’t start to chap. There’s probably not an easy remedy for that in the goddamn Enchanted Forest. 

Hook gapes at her. 

She grits her teeth. And regrets the state of her knees. They keep wobbling under her, traitors to her emotional cause and the state of several body parts aside from her obviously failing lungs. Whatever’s happening in the general vicinity of her heart seems unstable. 

Erratic, even. 

“Making sure you’re alright,” Hook says like it’s obvious, and it almost is. Almost. What another piece of garbage word. “You’ve been—” Shaking his head once, the ends of his hair don’t move as much as normal, and Emma flinches when he sheaths his sword. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright, that’s all.” Emma is going to lie. She is. Has every intention of letting the word fine pass through her lips, but those lips open without any sound coming out at all and Hook’s eyebrows jump. 

“Thank you.” “Excuse me?” “Thank you,” Emma repeats, finally giving into the urge of her knees and, if nothing else, the length of this dress makes it easier to sit on one of these overly large tree roots. Hook’s eyebrows don’t move. “Should have, uh—should have mentioned that before, probably.” “Thanking me?” “What part of this is confusing for you?” “Quite a bit, in fact,” he admits, and he doesn’t sit, but he also doesn’t look away from her and Emma is pleasantly surprised to find she almost sort of likes it. Almost. Again. 

Letting out a breath that she wishes sounded more like a laugh than it does, Emma’s tongue darts out. “Shit, that..well, that sucks, doesn’t it?” His eyes widen. “That’s not a euphemism,” Emma adds. “Just out of place slang.” “You might have to be more specific, love.”

“That’s fair. I—ok, stuff sucking is...well, it just means that stuff is...not great. Like right now, you know...things are—” She shrugs. And tries to smile. It fails spectacularly. 

Emma sniffles again. 

“Not great?” Hook ventures, and he has to readjust his sword to sit next to her. 

“Less than ideal.”

“You’ve been gone for nearly half an hour. I was worried something had happened.” “Hence the sword.” “Never want to be too careful. And you’re—” “—At least capable of still punching people,” Emma argues, not sure why she’s doing that exactly, but it feels like a matter of pride at this point. She exhales loudly. “But, uh...it’s nice that you came out here. I’m sorry that you had to do that too.” They both hear the words for what they aren’t — vast and a little overwhelming, and time travel is so overrated. Emma can’t believe what a popular fictional trope it is. Snow White was never supposed to die. The ends of Hook’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t actually smile, and that’s actually nice and maybe that’s her biggest issue. 

Everything about him has been so goddamn nice. 

He was much better at dancing than she expected him to be. 

And he keeps following her. She doesn’t mind that. 

Might even—

No. Not now. Not yet. Or ever. Again. God. 

“It’s not a problem, love.”

Emma swallows. Nods. Tries not to fall over that ledge. “I just...needed some time to think, I guess. Is that dramatic?” “No. And suggesting it sucks does have a certain charm to it.” “And you know all about charming, don’t you?” His left eyebrow arches. Some things never change, she supposes. Emma focuses on that. And not how she’s fairly certain she can feel waves of heat rolling off him, even with the few inches between them. Possibly a foot. She’s not great at estimating measurements. 

Or much else, it seems. 

That’s a far too depressing thought, though. 

“I believe I’ll leave that particular moniker to others in the party,” Hook says softly, sitting down. “Would you like to talk about it?” “Which part?” “Dealer’s choice.” “That one crossed realms, huh?”

“Some sayings know no bounds,” Hook smirks, and whatever sound Emma makes at that is even closer to a laugh than the last one. She takes that as a positive. “None of this is your fault.” “Practice that a few more times and it might sound more legitimate.” “Swan, that’s—” “—No, no, no,” Emma objects, not standing up, but she shakes her head quickly enough that strands of hair slap at either one of her cheeks. A few of them stick there. Probably because of the tears she can’t seem to stop. “All of this is my fault. I—I should have waited for help with the portal and everything I’ve done here has only made it worse and—” Another sigh, dragging her hand over her cheek. “—Fuck Marty McFly. And Doc Brown. It was so weird that they were friends, why didn’t anyone ever explain that?” “Did they not?” “No, not once. We were just supposed to accept that Marty met some senior citizen inventor guy who was more than willing to steal dangerous chemicals—” “—And he wasn’t a wizard?” “No, he wasn’t a wizard. No magic in the real world.” Or me, Emma thinks bitterly, but that’s not going to help the situation anymore than her current rambling, and she can’t seem to stop rambling. “But Marty and Doc hung out all the time. And Jennifer didn’t even think it was weird.” “Who is Jennifer, exactly?” “Marty’s girlfriend, I guess, but it always seemed like they were just starting to date at the beginning of the movie and then they got married. Just like that. You think they went to the same college or something? Like once Marty left—shit I can’t remember the name of the town.” Hook hums, a sound Emma can’t actually cling to any more than she can hold the one positive thing that has happened to her in the last twenty-four hours in her hands. It is not lost on her that both of them have to do with the man sitting next to her. 

Or how quickly his fingers keep fluttering over the hilt of his sword. 

“How far do you think we are from Aurora and Philip’s...land?” Emma asks. “Is that the right way to say that? Did they have a land?” “I believe the word you’re looking for is kingdom.” “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Should have known that.” “That’s not your fault either.” “You’re really harping.” “Playing a symphony, it seems.” She laughs. She does. It’s not that loud, and there’s a distinctly watery edge to it, the muscles in Emma’s face aching when she manages to smile, but she’s having a difficult time coming to terms with the dexterity of Killian’s eyebrows and her hand moves before she thinks about it. 

The metal is cool under her skin, a smooth surface that she can drag her thumb across. Which is exactly what she does, an attempt to ground herself and remind her that she’s still here when she isn’t entirely positive she’s supposed to be. 

Hook doesn’t move. Might not breathe, if the state state of his shoulders is any indication and Emma hadn’t realized she was in possession of so many opinions regarding Captain Hook’s shoulders. Or her ability to recognize them. 

No matter what, it seems. 

“While it may appear that I know everything—” “—Ok, I never said that.” Hook’s smirk grows more pronounced. “I was in Neverland for quite some time, and the boundaries of some of the Enchanted Forest kingdoms changed in the last hundred or so years. But,” he adds when Emma opens her mouth again, “we’re more than a stone’s throw from the land Aurora should be ruling. At least several days' travel.” “God, that’s confusing. And did all these kingdoms have separate laws and everything? Who came up with that? Seems like a garbage way to rule.” “I believe you’d have to file a complaint with several different monarchies for that, love.”

Emma scoffs. “It’s quieter here than it was in Neverland, though.” “Most places are.” “Colder too. I hate the cold. I’m always—can’t ever seem to get warm and my toes are always freezing, it’s...I’m a notorious blanket thief.” “Pirate of sorts, huh?” He grins as he says it and part of Emma wants to scream. Stand up and run, as fast as her feet and far-too-long hem allow. But that part is also smaller than usual, and she’s all too aware of the state her knees are in. “Something like that,” Emma agrees. “When I was a kid I used to live in this place. Snowed for months at a time and I—I hated it. Wanted to be anywhere else. Kept trying to find somewhere that was warm, sunny. Like that would chase away the shadows.” Hook is disarmingly quiet. 

And Emma can’t shut up. 

“But then I got some place where it never snows and it wasn’t what I thought it’d be. Dry heat, you know?” He shakes his head. That’s fair. Pirates with several-hundred years of experience under their belts should not be expected to understand meteorological cliches. 

“Anyway,” Emma mumbles, “it wasn’t what I expected or thought was supposed to happen and—” She scrunches her nose. Hook waits. Presumably for the rest of the sentence, but it doesn’t come and she finds it difficult to breathe again when he starts talking.

“Sunlight always seemed better on the sea. Would reflect off the surf. Could see the entire horizon if you wanted to.” “And did you?” Hook nods. “As often as I could. Even when I was lad. My father used to bring my brother and I—” This might be their best and least organized conversation. Gritting his teeth, his shoulders shift when he inhales sharply. “These stars are different from Neverland’s.” “Really? Weird.” “Mmhm, made navigating something of a challenge.”

“But you’re here now, right?” “Presently, you mean?” Another head shake. More moving hair and unmoving fingers. Emma’s knuckles are white around the hook, holding it like a lifeline and she might have to spend the rest of her life thanking him for this. 

It’s not as daunting a prospect as it should be. 

“I mean past you is here,” Emma says, “in the Enchanted Forest. Doing pirate type things and offering Mary—” Her tongue gets in the way. As disgusting a thought as that is, Emma knows it’s better than thinking about what is actually happening, feeling as if her throat is collapsing in on itself while her heart does its best to beat its way out of her chest. “Shit.” Killian shuffles closer, not stopping until his knee bumps hers. “That happened from time to time. Leaving Neverland, doing jobs for—” “—Pan?” “Sometimes. He couldn't leave the island, you see. Not without losing the magic as well. Jolly’s crew was his only option. Although we always managed to stay here longer than he wanted us to.” “Well, pirates hate rules, don’t they?” “I believe that’s in the bylaws, aye.” She’s got absolutely no idea what sound that one is. Shaky and a little wobbly and some dark, half-forgotten part of Emma’s brain believes it’s drifting close to giggle territory. That can’t be right. She can’t giggle while she’s still crying. 

The bylaws of the Universe probably frown on that. 

“Is that how you wound up with Cora, then? Stuck around longer and got a good deal?” Nothing. 

No answer. No jokes. Certainly nothing even remotely resembling a giggle. 

Just the muscle in Hook’s temple, jumping rhythmically and consistently and Emma really does try to stay patient. Her sniffling makes that difficult. 

“Something like that,” Killian repeats evasively, staring straight ahead like he can see through the trees. Maybe he can. What does Emma know. Some pirates probably have to have good eyesight. Make up for the eye patches and whatnot. 

She nods. No one asked a question. “Ok.” “Ok?” “Ok,” Emma echoes, “you’re a real shit liar and I’m real great at telling when you’re lying, but—” “—Me specifically?” Yes. The answer is yes, but she doesn’t give voice to that either and maybe she should be writing all these things down. The things she’s not saying. 

Should say. 

Emma can’t believe she time traveled and didn’t even get to talk to her mother. 

And that’s the first time she’s really allowed herself to think of Snow White as her mother. 

“Super power,” Emma continues, waving her free hand towards her temple. Her other one is still clinging to his hook. “But that’s fine. You didn’t pry, so I won’t pry, I just—” Collapsing throats, she imagines, are supposed to hurt more than this does. This doesn’t hurt, per se, just feels passably uncomfortable, like there’s a wad of cotton in her mouth, making it difficult to say anything and Emma is so bad at saying anything, but Killian is staring at her and—

Killian. 

She lets herself call him Killian. In her head, at least .

“I can’t come up with anything else to say except thank you,” Emma whispers. 

“You don’t have to.” “Still.” “You’re welcome,” Killian says, and maybe words carry more weight in the past. By default. 

“Can I ask you something, though?” He tenses. Noticeably. It’s another round of fair and understandable, Emma’s teeth finding her lower lip until she tastes blood. Another reminder that she’s still here. With her fingers wrapped around Captain Hook’s—

No, that’s not right. Captain Hook did not follow her into a time vortex. Or ask her to dance. Or wear the fuck out of that jacket. Although that last one could use a bit more work, at least when it comes to sentence structure. 

The point still stands. 

Captain Hook didn’t do any of that. Killian Jones did. 

And he—

“When we were watching everything in the castle and Regina was you know…” Killian lips go thin. Emma might be staring at his lips. Past him had been a very good kisser as well. Maybe she’ll mention that at some point. After this. “Well, I just,” she stammers, “I was terrified, for my mom and my dad and even Ruby—God, is that her name here?” “Introduced herself as Red when Snow White sent her.” “Weird.” “Perhaps the best word for the entire situation.” “Or shitty.” “Aye that too,” he smiles, which is not weird. At least not as weird as it should be. “I wasn’t sure what was going to happen.” “Yeah, me neither,” Emma breathes, not exactly the explicit truth, but at least several steps without moving. “I—you have very strong arms.” “A compliment?” “An observation.” Killian chuckles, and this hair really is unfortunate. Normally, that one bit that Emma has come to regard as her own personal torture device would artfully fall across his forehead, a metaphorical arrow towards eyes that always seem to get brighter when they’re looking at her.

As they often are. 

But while the hair is different, the distracting tendencies of his tongue are the same. The tip of it finds the corner of his mouth, a soft push on the inside of his cheek, and Emma’s not keeping a list — at least not acknowledging her want of a list — but the tongue thing is definitely one of Killian’s most telling tells. 

Seriously, her sentence structure sucks. 

“Although,” Emma adds, “it wasn’t that bad.” HIs tongue goes back in his mouth. She’s got to stop thinking about his tongue.

“No?” “No,” she says. “It was...nice.” So, off the top of her head, she needs to fix — sentences, her grasp of the English language, her tendency to repeat herself, and finding better adjectives for emotionally charged moments. 

Possibly. 

Emma still hasn’t called him Killian to his face, after all. 

“What did you think was going to happen?” No tongue, but an obviously tight jaw makes Emma’s stomach jump into her still-collapsed throat. “Like I said, love. I wasn’t sure. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.” The lie feels like it reaches out, smacks her across the face and then backhands her for good measure. It leaves Emma’s cheeks tingling and something tugs at the base of her spine. Not magic, because she still doesn’t have magic, but maybe magic adjacent, like a memory or hints of a dream that keep lingering at the edges of everything, and she promised. 

She doesn’t push. She doesn’t prod. 

She doesn’t pry. 

And Killian has to move his sword again when he gets back to his feet. “We’ve got a fire going, if you’d like to warm up.” “Yeah, ok. Thanks.” Emma doesn’t let go of the hook, keeps her fingers curled around it as they move back through the trees and neither one of them stumble, a very small, but much needed victory because—

Well, everything kind of continues to suck. 

At least for a little while. 

Snow White isn’t dead, but she’s a bug, and then she’s not a bug and Emma has no idea where Ruby goes. She’s too busy worried about this nameless woman and wielding a branch gets her another laugh and a smile she’s going to think about for at least seventy-two hours straight. Then there are trolls, and tears of the less-pained variety. Rumplestilskin continues to be any forest’s biggest asshole, and there’s magic and another round of crying and—

Emma runs. 

Sprinting across Storybrooke, she ignores the ringing phone in her pocket, determined to hug her parents and hold her kid with her own display of impressive upper body strength. 

And it gets better, less suck-like, at least. Food and smiles and the way her mother’s hand feels when it rests on top of Emma’s. 

Until she’s sitting — tucked into the corner of a booth with her own face staring at her from the pages of Henry’s storybook and Emma can’t quite recognize the person there. The happiness on her face feels like...well, a story. A good one, but something that she can’t believe was hers or is hers or could be hers and she’s got to add tenses to that list she only kind of remembers. 

Glancing around, the muscles in her neck object to the stress she’s putting them under, because time travel is awful and exhaustion is starting to creep its way up her spine. 

“Looking for someone?” her mother asks, and Emma’s lips pop. 

That’s it. 

She understands. Fucking goddamn finally. 

Emma might nod. Or shake her head. It doesn’t really matter. 

There are no words. No explanations. Just clamoring back to her feet, the bottoms of her boots sticking to the linoleum near the door because one of the dwarves definitely spilled punch at some point and—

His head snaps up as soon as the door closes behind her. 

“So, do you think Rumplestilskin is right?” Emma asks, dropping into one of the wrought-iron chairs at the table Killian has commandeered. Pirate term. “I’m in the book now. He said everything, besides our little adventure, would go back to normal. Do you think that it is?”

“He’s right. Otherwise I’d remember that damned bar wench I kissed.” She smiles. Wide and honest and easier than anything has ever been. And Killian doesn’t flinch when she teases him, like that’s something Emma is allowed to do, but she figures once she uses his name and once they start making out like teenagers it’s fine, and this is her favorite kiss. 

By far. 

No sounds, no rum, nothing except the feel of his fingers in her hair and her knees bumping against his and she tries to claw her way into his space, a burst of colors behind her closed eyes that she knows is magic and him and them, a collective unit that—

“You came out here,” Killian murmurs, the words barely making their way through the haze of Emma’s post-makeout brain. 

She bumps her nose against his. “Turnabout and all that. I...I didn’t want you to be by yourself. And I had a thought.” “Which was?” “Did you think I was going to disappear? When Regina tried to kill my mom. I—you said you didn’t know what would happen, but that wasn’t—” “—Super power, huh?” “Not cool to interrupt when I’m theorizing.” “Well, you don’t like being cool, do you, Swan?” Her smile is going to get stuck on her face. That’s...nice. “Was that what it was?” “The thought had crossed my mind, aye.” “Smart guy.” “High praise.” “I’m an official princess now. In the book and everything, so favors from me hold a certain weight, don’t you think?” He smirks. She tries to memorize it. Every shift of his mouth, the spark in his eye and slight scrunch of his nose, what might be a few freckles there or a trick of the dim lights above them. 

Emma’s skin feels like it’s vibrating. 

“Thank you.” “You don’t have to keep saying that, Swan.” “Yeah, I know, but—I didn’t think about disappearing, but I did think about wanting something to hold onto and that’s...thank you.”

It’s not enough. Not really, but even the concept of holding her tight enough to ensure that she didn’t disappear in some fairy tale realm is a lot for Emma to wrap her mind around, so she’s going to give herself a pass on this one. 

And kiss him instead. Kissing Killian is quickly climbing to the top of a brand-new list of Emma’s favorite things. In every known realm. His tongue swipes her lips and she opens her mouth at the same time her eyes fall shut again, a tilt of her head and bump of their chins, and it’s not easy to deal with all of their assorted limbs at this angle, but that just ensures that this is a bit slower and softer and something that is, quite obviously, the start. 

Because she came after him this time. 

#cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #THANKS TAYLOR SWIFT

[primusicanalysis]

Do Women Artists have to Sell Sex?

For my piece today I want to talk about the long standing question, of women and the debate of sex selling. But specifically women in music. For most female musicians and just musicians alike, regardless of the gender, they understand within the industry that one must make themselves these 'untouchable Godly figures' but in reality, they are just regular people. Interestingly enough, for artists like Ed Sheeran, he seems to be the perfect example of sex doesn't need to sell nor even an outgoing personality in the music industry, everyone would assume one needs to show an overtly sexual presence in order to be successful. But Ed Sheeran and artists like Billie Eillish, show that one does not need to be anything sexual in order to be popular. They come dressed in baggy clothing and regardless of the fact that one is man or women, does not seem to matter for either of them. What seems to matter is that they are talented and make incredible music. For most people, an artist is the whole package, the look, the persona, the friend group they have, the people they date, their personal story to tie an emotional connection to the viewers and thus, the artist becomes an entire persona. But for artists like Ed Sheeran and Billie, are they not mysterious? We don't really see their body and they're sexuality on stage. There is a message there, that inevitably the sex selling debate, is a myth. Even Taylor Swift for example, she seems like the complete wholesome singer all moms would like for their daughters to listen to, but now her new pop songs, are delving more into her sexuality. Her earlier hits were completely about these wholesome girl feelings alone, but now it seems, she's delved into more of her sexuality, is it to stay relevant? Is it to change the good girl persona and delve into another one? With artists like Nicki Minaj for example, selling sex seems inevitable in the hip hop industry, it almost seems, if the only way to be a successful female artist is to sell sex. In this article, called "Lorde is proof that women don't need to sell sex to sell records" she gives a great example of what artists have and don't need to sell in order to be successful. In the article it states, "Perry, whose Prism is her second record to hit No. 1 on the U.K. Albums charts, told NPR's Simon, "[F]emales in pop — everybody's getting naked. I mean, I've been naked before but I don't feel like I have to always get naked to be noticed .… I'm not talking about anyone in particular. I'm talking about all of them. I mean, it's like everybody's so naked. It's like put it away. We know you've got it. I got it too." It's a somewhat hypocritical statement for Perry, who despite vaguely acknowledging her role in this trend, is arguably most famous for her cheeky and brazen use of sexual innuendos, both lyrically and in her onstage costumes. "I've taken it off for — I've taken it out here and there. And I'm not necessarily judging. I'm just saying sometimes it's nice to play that card but also it's nice to play other cards. And I know I have that sexy card in my deck but I don't always have to use that card." I like that she mentions a lot of it being something fun to experiment and not necessarily feeling like she has to, but simply, just to play around as an artist and have fun. What I love within her songs is the contrast of it, some of her songs are just as she mentioned. With in terms, of what she said another artist that I would compare to playing around and seeming to do it for fun. Is Ariana Grande, she in the beginning of her career had more wholesome and girly songs like, 'Baby I' and songs like, 'The way' more playful, soft and girly. But she is the one funny enough that said, "I feel like those songs weren't really who I was" it seems like she wanted to break out into her sexuality right away and make songs like, 'dangerous women' and songs like, '34 35' which are heavily sexual songs.

And take the contrast of her earlier songs like Baby I and the fun playful beat and even notice the words and rhymes are different. No swear words or any kind of overtly sexual display, proving that it seems for most female artists in genres, selling sex or rather displaying sex seems to be a personal choice of theirs. 

Take the rest of the article where Lorde, really gets into exactly what this means.

 ‘Women are, of course, free to choose whether to use their sexuality as part of their image or brand, but so much of our pop-culture talk focuses on those who do when, in fact, artists like Lorde — and the audiences who listen to her — are asking us to shift our focus. While the women she's vying with for popularity have tended to use their sexuality to sell their music, Lorde is proving fierce competition with her obvious lack of interest in representing herself the same way, and she's resonating with a wide range of demographics for a reason. It's still a nascent fight, but she's challenging the widely-held idea that sex alone sells through her image, songs, and lyrics. She is showing the music industry (and the pop-culture community at large) that taking anything off isn't a requisite for grabbing people's attention.” The last line where it mentions, she is showing the music industry you don’t have to show your sexuality to grab someones attention is perfect. Leading me to mention another artist, I feel has never had to be overtly sexual in order to be successful is Adele, she has never had to show off her body in any kind of way, in fact you notice, she wears Black most times and that is a slimming color for her, she says, but never does she say I don’t think I can be that successful because I don’t show my body. Many female artists show off their body and many don’t, in almost all ways it is completely fine I notice. 

But take another females artists pov for example like Katy Perry who is widely successful. 

Katy Perry: "Everybody's getting naked"

Katy Perry has hit the headlines for wearing skin-tight latex, see-through frocks and cupcake bras on stage in the past - but even the 'Dark Horse' singer seems fed up with the lack of clothes popstars seem to have on today.

Speaking on the radio last year, she lamented: "Everybody's getting naked. I mean, I've been naked before, but I don't feel like I have to always get naked to be noticed.

"I'm not talking about anyone in particular. I'm talking about all of them... It's like, 'Put it away. We know you've got it. I got it too'."

Katy conceded that she had worn revealing stage outfits in the past, but argued that musicians shouldn't feel pressured to play the "sexy card" constantly.

[1dcraftawards]

November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic ! 

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things.  I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly,  I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

#author of the month #aom #November2020 #aomnovember2020