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tefilovesreading · 3 years

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Karaoke nights - Owen Joyner x reader

Pairing: Owen Joyner x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1,3k

Warning: mention of alcohol, couple swearing words and a bunch of fluff, ‘cause I love a fluffy story.

A/N: This is my first Owen fic, so I hope you like it. Also, let me know if I should make a taglist. Thanks for the pic @tewksburysmischief

Edited by: @theamazingtomholland

MASTERLIST

The humid summer night in Toronto made Owen readjust his shirt, feeling how the fabric was sticking to his skin, but he couldn’t complain. After all, the temperature finally cooled down when the evening came, giving the couple a much-needed break from the heat.

“Are you okay, baby?” Y/N asked when she noticed his boyfriend run his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture.

“Yeah, I’m just getting all sweaty,” he answered reassuring his girlfriend, “did Charlie send you the address?”

“He did, we’re a few blocks away.” The girl showed him the map on her phone screen and Owen nodded, locking just their pinkies, so their hands wouldn’t get sweaty as they walked to their destination.

“Where are we going anyway?” Owen asked again, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Charlie said it was one of his best mates’ place,” she commented swinging their hands to ease the blonde guy, “I’m sure we’re gonna have a good time, and if we’re not, when can always leave.”

“You’re right,” Owen sighed and leaned to kiss his girlfriend’s forehead.

“I’m always right, Joyner” Y/N bragged, sticking her tongue out to mess with Owen.

“Don’t get too cocky, babe,” he warned with a smirk, “you might regret it later.”

Charlie welcomed the couple inside and introduced them to the rest of the group, too many names Y/N couldn’t remember.

“You guys want something to drink? A beer?” Charlie questioned pointing to the kitchen.

“I’m not sure if we should-” his friend interrupted him quickly.

“If you want a beer it’s okay, you know you can drink here,” Y/N saw her boyfriend nod slowly at his friend’s words, probably remembering that the legal age for drinking here was 19 and not 21.

“I’ll have a beer,” she said.

“Save the beer for later!” One of Charlie’s friends chirped, putting his arm over his shoulders, “we’re doing shots first, guys.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in shock, but when she turned to see her boyfriend, he winked at her and whispered: “You’re done.”

What was supposed to be one shot of vodka, turned into three, probably four if Owen hadn’t spilled his before the glass could touch his lips.

“Owen is wasted!” Charlie sang with a laugh, “and here we thought little Y/N was gonna be the drunkest out of you two.”

“Oh c’mon!” she huffed and raised her glass, “you need to have a little more faith in me, Gillespie.”

“It’s not fair, she’s been drinking water,” Owen whined and filled his glass again with the clear liquid.

“You gotta stay hydrated, baby,” she winked at him and threw her head back, letting the alcohol make its way down with a slight burn on her throat.

“So guys,” the guy she vaguely remembered introducing himself as Nathan, started saying, “we have a little tradition.”

“If you tell me I have to do one more I don’t think I’m gonna be standing for much longer, mate,” Owen deadpanned, making the group laugh.

“Don’t worry, Owen, you don’t have to drink” Charlie patted his best friend’s shoulder and smirked, “but you do have to sing.”

Nathan handed him a mic and asked him what song he wanted to sing. To her surprise, instead of choosing a song from one of his favorite Broadway shows like he always did, he went with a Justin Timberlake classic.

“I’m bringing sexy back,” he sang getting into character so naturally, she knew his boyfriend was born to be a star, “them other boy don’t know how to act,” Charlie faked a gasp when Owen pointed at him as he sang the next verse.

Owen loved to see the bright smile on Y/N’s face as he sang and danced, making sure to give the people a good show, but most important, one that’d make his lovely girlfriend put a lot more effort into her show.

“You see these shackles baby I’m your slave,” the blonde boy made sure to sing that line directly to Y/n’s face, loving the way she looked around all flustered and embarrassed.

“Take it to the chorus,” Charlie joined him, helping out his best friend with the background vocals. They were a complete mess together, and anyone could see it when they started singing the chorus together.

“Okay, that was one hell of a good show, guys,” Nathan said and turned to Y/N, “but I’m afraid we have to move to our next competitor, miss Y/N!”

“You said it was a tradition, not a competition,” Y/N accused him but received the mic he was holding out for her.

“It’s a traditional competition.”

Owen kissed her cheek when she passed him and grazed her hand. “I already won, babe,” he whispered.

Unlike Owen and Charlie, she wasn’t the type of person to put on a show, sure she liked having fun, but he knew she’ll be embarrassed even if she did great. And he smiled when he heard her song choice. It was a bold choice.

The girl singing in front of him, with so much confidence and not a care in the world, was a view he wished to remember his entire life. And when she reached the chorus, he knew he was done, he knew he was head over heels for her.

“Yeah you make me feel like, I’ve been locked out of heaven, for too long,” Y/N sang softly sitting on his lap, “for too long.” she finished, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That was perfect, babe,” Owen kissed her cheek and felt the heat on her cheeks.

“As much as I love Bruno Mars, we gotta give this round to Owen,” Nathan announced, and she shook her head in disappointment.

“I told ya,” Owen bragged, leaving a sweet kiss on her cheek, “you had fun, didn’t you?”

She turned her head to focus her attention on her boyfriend and nodded, his eyes were glossy due to the alcohol in his blood, and she was sure hers were just the same.

“I did, baby,” Y/N said with a grin, “now let’s go and have fun.”

They spent the night laughing and playing random games with their new friends, enjoying the last night they were spending in Canada before going back to Oklahoma. Owen smiled softly at the girl leaning on his shoulder.

“I think it’s time for us to go back to our hotel,” he mentioned, getting up to say goodbye. He held a hand out for Y/N, and she took it gladly.

“Thanks for having us, guys,” the girl smiled politely at the group, “I really had a great night.”

“Thanks for coming,” one of the girls in the group told her with a beaming smile, “if you ever come back, let me know, so we can hang out.”

“Sure, I’d invite you to Oklahoma, but there’s not much to do,” she admitted scrunching her nose just a little.

Y/N threw herself in bed with an exhausted sigh. Owen helped her take off her shoes and joined her. She wasn’t even drunk now, but she felt so tired she couldn’t keep both of her eyes open at the same time.

“Shit, I don’t wanna move,” she mumbled, burying her face into her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Yeah, me neither,” he wrapped his arms around Y/N and pulled her closer to his body. “Did I tell you I love you?”

“Every day, baby,” she smiled with her eyes closed, “I love you too.”

“No, but I realized I’m seriously in love with you,” Y/N propped herself up, resting her chin in his chest, and smiled at his words, “when you were singing I couldn’t help but think how fucking lucky I am.”

“You’re the best, Owen,” she admitted, “I feel the same about you, but can’t we talk about this in the morning? I’m fucking tired right now.”

He laughed at her sincerity and nodded in agreement. With a last kiss on Y/N’s forehead, he pulled her closer and closed his eyes, ready to sleep. If having to sleep with his jeans on meant he could sleep holding his girlfriend, he’d do it every time he could.

“I really miss my Bindi,” he confessed in a whisper.

“I miss her too, now go to sleep.”

#owen joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #owen joyner fanfic #owen joyner one shot #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen jatp #owen joyner fluff

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cakesunflower · 4 years

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Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 20

A/N: so honestly. this story was SUPPOSED to come to an end. like, this was supposed to be the last/second to last chapter and then boom, done! but after writing this chapter and pleading from @irwinkitten & @loveroflrh, and swimming in my own thoughts & falling in love with Aspen, Calum & Luna all over again, i realized this will not be the last chapter. and, if anything, i probably have a few more chaps left in me than previously assumed. so yeah. this story is gonna go on for a little while longer. after reading this chap, you’ll understand why hehe

Chapter 20

ASPEN BOWED HER head, her labored breathing echoing a bit too loudly in the restroom, shaking arms apparently too weak allow her to steadily brace herself against the sink. Her throat was still burning, the taste rancid in her mouth, eyes screwed shut as the shock from throwing up her lunch, and maybe breakfast, subsided. Her stomach lurched and she knew she was in that uncomfortable stage of wanting to throw up more but not actually needing to, and Aspen let out a shaky breath as she rinsed out her mouth, hoping the gum she kept would rid of the smell.

Looking at herself in the mirror, taking in her own dull green eyes and dry lips, Aspen tried to think of why she was suddenly throwing up in one of the bathrooms at the clinic. It had been right in the middle of her eating her lunch, but she knew the leftover spaghetti from last night wasn’t what had her stomach lurching. She wasn’t sick—not that she knew of, anyway. She’d been feeling fine.

Her eyebrows drew together as she peered at her reflection, the porcelain of the sink bitterly cold under her touch. She wasn’t sick. She didn’t have her period. She never got this nauseous during it, either. The only time she could remember throwing up this much was when she was pr—

Aspen’s breath got caught in her throat, eyes widening almost comically as she gaped at her reflection. Holy shit. She wasn’t stupid. She worked at a medical clinic. And she had already gone through this once before to be familiar with the creeping feeling of the world being turned upside down. How the hell had she not realized earlier?

Still, Aspen pulled out her phone, trembling fingers clicking on the tracker app she needed, heart dropping to the pit of her turning stomach when the words 23 days late were shown back to her. She was never late—never this late, at least. Aspen damn near dropped her phone into the sink, a gasp choking her throat as she pressed a hand to her forehead. “Oh, my God.” Her whispered voice sounded as though she was screaming in the quiet of the bathroom, snapping Aspen out of the overwhelmed, incredulous daze she had found herself in.

She had to think fast.

Pocketing her phone in her scrubs, she quickly exited the bathroom and made her way across the hall towards the supply closet. It was dark inside, but she was familiar with the room to head to the second shelf on the right, third row from the bottom to dig into the box and pull out the pregnancy tests they kept in there. Chewing on her lower lip, Aspen quickly went back to the vacant bathroom, locking the door behind her, ripping open the small package with shaking fingers, pulling down her pants.

And then, after the fact, she waited a few minutes.

She desperately tried not to think of anything. Wanted to keep her mind blank because she was sure she would throw up again if she focused on the situation at hand for too long. Truthfully, Aspen didn’t know what to think—what to feel. If her suspicions were either confirmed or disproven, maybe then she’d know how to appropriately react. For now, there was a ringing in her ears, a flatline of thoughts she denied any attention. She leaned against the wall, eyes closed and eyebrows drawn together. Nothing to think of until there was something to think of.

Her alarm went off. Time was up.

She swallowed the thick, heavy lump that had formed in her throat, inhaling shakily as she took the few steps towards the sink. Her heart was thundering in her chest, echoing in her ears. Was it fear? Dread? Excitement? Aspen wasn’t sure.

But when she looked at the stick resting on the sink, she knew her answer.

*****

Calum hadn’t really thought that a kindergarten graduation was a thing—he didn’t remember having one in his school back when he was five years old. But as silly and goofy as a kindergarten graduation sounded, Calum didn’t care. Because he was utterly content sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, the springtime sun mellow above them, watching his adorable little girl in a red cap and gown as she and her class sang a parody version of Can’t Stop This Feeling to fit in with a kindergarten graduating class.

The crowd of parents and families sat laughing, clapping along, taking pictures, with Calum unable to tear his eyes away from where Luna stood singing along with a grin on her face. He hadn’t really understood the concept of kindergarten graduation until he realized Luna would be going into elementary school, which of course led him to think of when she’d eventually get to middle school, then high school, then college. . .

Calum inhaled sharply, shaking those thoughts out of his head. He needed to relax. Luna hadn’t even started first grade yet. There was lots of time.

For a moment, Calum had assumed he was the only overly emotional one, getting teary eyed amidst a bunch of five and six year olds making a Justin Timberlake song their own. But he glanced to his right, took in the sight of Aspen who, while she clapped along with a smile, had glassy green eyes that she couldn’t hide from him.

“Hey,” Calum whispered through a fond, amused chuckle, wrapping his right arm around her to pull her close. Aspen sniffled as Calum rubbed her arm, ducking his head slightly to try and meet her gaze. “You alright, doll?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aspen assured, swiping a finger under her eye before letting out a gentle laugh. “Just, y’know, proud of Luna.”

Calum laughed quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of Aspen’s head, inhaling her familiar shampoo and perfume. Looking back onto the stage, he mused, “Don’t wanna imagine what you’ll be like at her high school graduation.”

Aspen scoffed, letting out a slow breath before sniffling once more and raising her head. Shooting Calum a look, she said, “A mess. I’ll need five glasses of wine beforehand.”

He kept his arm around him, still chuckling as he rubbed at her arm and hummed, “Noted.”

Calum wasn’t oblivious to Aspen’s occasional sniffles, a tissue in her fist as she used it to dab away tears, and he couldn’t help but glance at her curiously. Truthfully, he hadn’t really expected Aspen to get so emotional over this; of course, Calum understood the pride and happiness he felt over his five year old finally moving on from kindergarten to enter elementary school, but he wasn’t anywhere near shedding tears.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Aspen?” he couldn’t help but ask once again.

“Yeah, yeah,” she brushed him off, offering a smile he wasn’t sure he believed. “Just, y’know, probably about to get my period,” she added with a gentle chuckle before looking ahead once more. He shot her a disbelieving look, and Aspen responded by merely keeping her gaze ahead and reaching her hand up to grasp Calum’s chin to turn his head forward as well.

The ceremony ended with cheers and smiles and lots of pictures taken, Calum’s heart threatening to burst out of his chest as Luna ran up to him and Aspen with a colorful kindergarten diploma in her hand, showing it off proudly. Because she knew it was a big deal and they rightfully treated it as such. They took tons of photographs, FaceTimed Aspen’s mother right away so Luna could show her the certificate and Jodie, who had joined them, took many photos of Calum and Aspen with their little girl, and of Luna with her friends.

Calum hadn’t failed to notice the distance Aspen kept with Bailey Clarkson, not so much as glancing at the other mom’s way as all of her focus remained on Luna. Which he was glad for; the last thing anyone needed was Aspen throwing a well deserved punch to Mrs. Clarkson’s jaw. Though, Calum knew he’d only hold back his girlfriend after the fact—and reluctantly so, at that.

“So no school for two months, bug!” Calum grinned at his daughter, glancing at her from the rearview mirror after they dropped Jodie off once the ceremony was finished. “What’s your plan for the summer?”

Luna grinned, hands in her lap and endearingly bringing her shoulders up as she drawled, “I don’t know.” Then she sat up, green eyes bright as she gasped in that childish, dramatic way and said, “Natalia’s parents are taking her to Disney World! Can we go there?”

Calum chuckled as he made a right turn, not entirely surprised by Luna’s request. Going to Disney World was practically every little kid’s wish, wasn’t it? “I think we can look into that,” Calum hummed, grinning at Luna’s excited cheer, glancing at Aspen as he asked, “What do you think, Mama?”

He had to return his gaze to the road ahead, but Calum still glanced at Aspen quickly, a couple of times in a span of a few seconds, eyebrows raising at her silence. She was chewing on her nail, staring out the window as they drove by buildings, lost in thoughts Calum wanted to be in on. Especially if they were worrying her—he could see it in the subtle furrow of her eyebrows, bringing forth a tense crease on her forehead. Something was occupying her thoughts, enough to throw her into a distracted silence, and it only increased Calum’s curiosity.

“Aspen?” he tried, left hand on the wheel and right reaching over to comfortingly rest on her thigh. “Come back, love.”

“Hmm?” She finally looked at him, eyebrows high up on her forehead before letting out a breath and giving a shake of her head. “Sorry, sorry.” Turning in her seat and grinning at Luna, Aspen mused, “Disney World, huh?”

Luna nodded as Calum stopped the car at a red light, turning to look at Aspen. She was fully engaging into a conversation with Luna, chatting about all the princesses and Disney characters Luna wanted to meet, completely disregarding her spaced out moment earlier. Maybe Calum was reading too into it, and she looked fine now, happily indulging Luna, so he bit the inside of his cheek and let it go. If something was wrong, Calum knew Aspen would tell him. That’s how they worked. That’s why they worked. If there was a pressing matter, Calum trusted Aspen to let him know.

They got back to the building and as they got off the elevator and Luna skipped ahead, Calum draped his arm around Aspen’s shoulders and, despite his decision in the car to let it go, couldn’t help but ask, “You good?”

Her own arm loosely wrapped around his waist as they walked, humming reassuringly as she looked up at him to meet his gaze. Her green eyes were light, absent of any heaviness that Calum had expected to see, the smile on her face genuine. “Yeah, great,” Aspen responded with a breezy laugh, hand rubbing at his back.

Calum watched her for a moment, trying to detect a lie she somehow would’ve become an expert at hiding, feeling guilty when he didn’t find any and for doubting her. So Calum pressed a kiss to her temple as they reached Luna, bouncing in front of the door as she waited for them and Calum used the key to the apartment that was permanently his to unlock to door. They entered and were greeted by Duke, his paws familiarly clattering, as Aspen sat down on the arm rest of the couch to bend down at unclasp her sandals.

She stood once doing so, taking a breath and saying to their daughter, “Hey, Lunes, let’s get that dress off before dinner.”

Luna nodded and followed Aspen into her bedroom as Calum placed his own shoes next to Aspen’s by the door, socks sliding on the floorboards as he approached the couch and collapsed on top. Kicking his feet up on the coffee table, Calum checked the messages on his phone, reading over the texts he’d received from friends and family congratulating Luna. He responded to them all, chuckled at the texts from the boys in the group chat losing it over the short clips Calum had sent of the kids singing on stage, zoomed in on Luna.

He spent a couple of minutes responding to texts, until the sound of Luna’s running footsteps reached his ears, as did her voice as she called excitedly, “Daddy! Look at the new shirt Mama got me! Look!”

“Show me, bug,” Calum laughed, sitting up as he lifted his gaze when he sensed Luna in front of him, almost immediately choking on his laugh when his expectant gaze took in the words written on Luna’s shirt.

Promoted to Big Sister!

There was moment that Calum was completely sure that his heart had stopped, reading over the four mundane words strung together to create a phrase that meant fucking everything a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t somehow imagining them. Was it possible to feel every bone in your body to tremble from shock, excitement? Calum’s eyes were quickly drying out, too wide as he read Luna’s shirt over and over again, deeply feeling the quiver of his lower lip as he took in a sharp, audibly shaky breath to get a hold of himself. He couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

Big sister.

Heart pounding, Calum looked from Luna’s grinning face as she held the bottom of the shirt in her hands, straightening the words out proudly, to where Aspen stood a few feet behind the five year old. Calum’s throat had gone dry, blinking quickly to rid of the cold dryness in his eyes, aware that his breathing was labored as he took in his girlfriend’s expression.

Aspen chewed on her lower lip, though unable to keep a smile, albeit nervous, away as she wrung her fingers together and awaited his reaction. Because right now, all Calum was doing was gaping at her, bewildered and incredulous and absolutely fucking floored, all too aware of every cell in his body vibrating in unadulterated excitement. His mind was running a mile a minute, unable to grasp a single thought and focus on it, before he took another glance at Luna’s shirt and felt the gasp rip through his throat.

Finally, Calum stumbled to his feet on weak knees, wide brown eyes on expectant and nervous green, and all Calum was capable of whispering was a dumbfounded, “What?”

He stammered a bit, hilariously feeling completely out of his element as one hand cupped Luna’s cheek as he stood over her, aware of her brilliant grin beaming up at him as his throat worked, looking at Aspen for a verbal confirmation. Maybe then the feeling in his muscles would return.

Calum was acutely aware of the wild drumming of his heart, the buzz within his veins erratic as Aspen parted her lips. And just as she breathed out, “I’m pregnant,” Luna had taken the opportunity to yell, “I’m gonna be a big sister!”

Yeah. Yeah, that was all it took. Because once both of his favorite girls delivered some of the best news Calum could possibly hear, he was scooping Luna up with one arm and striding over to Aspen, pulling them in for a hug that couldn’t possibly convey the full capacity of happiness Calum felt in that moment.

He was sure Aspen could hear the pounding of his heart, but Calum didn’t care as he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face to Aspen’s hair. The floral scent of her shampoo was brilliant as Calum breathed out a dazed, “Oh, my God,” before finally the dryness of his eyes let up and the thrilled tears that had almost immediately gathered upon confirmation freely fell from his eyes. “Oh, my God.”

It was a cliche, expectant response but for now, that was all Calum could utter as he clung to both Aspen and Luna, the five year old giggling excitedly as Aspen laughed against Calum’s chest. He could hear her own tears as her arms wrapped around him, her hug just as tight, and Calum had to remember to breathe as the excitement and disbelief threatened to deprive his lungs of air. Calum could count his purest, happiest moments in one hand—most of which, when he truly thought about it, consisted of his two girls—and this just made the top of the list. Until the anticipated moment arrived. Until the baby arrived.

“Oh—oh, man,” Calum pulled back slightly with a teary eyed, breathless chuckle as he cupped Aspen’s own wet cheek with one hand, adoring the way Luna’s smaller hand pushed back some of Aspen’s dark hair away from her face. “We’re—we’re gonna have a baby.”

Aspen’s green eyes were filled with elated tears, an image Calum probably mirrored, her cheeks flushed and smile looking its happiest. She looked beautiful. “Yeah,” she replied with a sniffle, her own voice a whisper as her gaze flickered between him and Luna. “Gonna be a family of five.”

Duke included, of course. Calum laughed; a bright, hearty, genuine laugh that carried his excitement, happiness, and disbelief together. He was still in shock, he knew, but he mostly focused on the giddiness that fluttered in his stomach and had his heart racing. Fuck. Holy fucking shit. No wonder he thought she was acting differently today. She’d been waiting to tell him about this. And what a fucking thing to tell.

Calum let out a slow breath, laughter softening as he wiped at his face, licking his lips as he grinned at his favorite girls. They would eventually be joined by another. “We’re gonna need a bigger place.”

*****

“Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?” Calum hummed, all too focused on drawing nonsensical patterns on Aspen’s still flat stomach. They were laying in bed, hours later after a celebratory dinner—times two—and putting Luna to bed. Aspen had giggled and teased Calum as he lifted her shirt once she’d laid down, wanting nothing more than to use her breasts as pillows as he did so often while tracing his finger on the bare skin of her stomach. Her own fingers were weaving through his hair, playing with the dark strands in the way that relaxed him.

Aspen chuckled lightly at his obliviousness. “If it’s a boy or a girl,” she clarified.

The smile that tugged at Calum’s lips was instant at the mere mention of the baby, probably the size of his pinky nail—maybe smaller. But he didn’t care. That was his kid in there. “So long as it’s healthy, no,” Calum answered, ears picking up on the quiet and disbelieving scoff that Aspen released. Grin widening, he turned his head to look up at her just enough to say, “But a boy—you and Luna have too much fun outmatching me.”

Aspen tilted her head back against the pillow propped behind her as she laughed, knowing his words to be all too true. Calum turned his attention back to her stomach, grin widening as he thought of the appointment Aspen told him she had scheduled for tomorrow. The excitement in his chest, Calum knew, wouldn’t be dying down anytime soon, and the thought of being with Aspen in that room, watching as the doctor showed them the first image of their baby developing—it took his breath away. He would be both embarrassed and not at all surprised if he actually passed out as soon as he saw the black and white image of the screen.

And as he continued to absentmindedly trace patterns, Calum couldn’t help but think that although this was his second child, this would be his first time being an expectant dad-to-be. This time around, he would be there from the very start of the kid’s life and although Calum would always be upset that he missed these moments with Luna, he would be sure to cherish every bit of the next nine months, and every single year after that as much as he was capable of. This was his second chance, and Calum was ready to embrace it with open arms. Thinking about all of which was to come had him chewing on his lower lip, eyes closing as he took in a deep breath that immediately caught Aspen’s attention.

“You okay?” she asked in concern.

“Yeah,” Calum cleared his throat. He was alright. He was just. . . Emotional. So he sat up, causing Aspen to drop her hand from his hair as he sat cross legged by her outstretched legs, licking his lips as his brown eyes gaze met her pretty green. Aspen sat up as well, a slight furrow in her eyebrows, ready to listen as Calum shot her a warm smile to reassure her. “It’s just—this is your second time doing this and I’m—I’ve never been here before, y’know? And it’s dumb that I know how to be a dad but I don’t. . .” He paused, feeling foolish with his words, but Aspen watched him with those encouraging eyes and Calum didn’t feel like an idiot as he finished with a breathless and short chuckle, “I don’t know how to be a dad-t0-be.”

“Cal, no, it doesn’t,” Aspen was quick to assure, smiling that pretty smile of hers that somehow always made him feel like everything was okay. She also crossed her legs, hand reaching out to grasp his. “It’s a learning experience which you obviously didn’t get the first time around. Being nervous is normal.”

Calum let out a breath, reveling in the feeling of her hand holding his, eyebrows scrunching up as he told her, “I don’t want you to feel guilty or anyth—”

“Oh, come on, stop with that,” Aspen cut him off with a wave of her free hand. “We promised to stop being sorry and guilty about everything a long time ago, right?” Calum nodded, feeling that bit of weight he hadn’t known was resting on his chest life away. With a smile, she continued, “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t still be upset about everything in moments like these. You’re right: you did miss out on this with Luna because of me and your mom. And even though nothing will replace that, at least you know there won’t ever be moments that you’re gonna miss out in the future. Not if I can help it.”

It was crazy, in a familiar way, how effortlessly Aspen could ease any bit of troubles he was having. And it only made Calum think of how far they came to get to the point of where they were today. To be so happy, so close. He never knew a happiness like the one he did with Aspen.

So he cupped her cheek with his free hand, pulling her smiling face close to his as he caught her lips in a kiss they both constantly craved for. It was sweet, long, savoring the taste of each other and their minty toothpaste as their lips moved in practiced, perfected sync. “I love you,” she murmured against him.

His heart jumped every time she said it. He didn’t mind one bit. “I love you, too,” Calum returned, bringing his hands to grasp the back of her thighs to pull her close, prompting Aspen to uncross her legs to wrap them around Calum’s hips as she settled in the seat of his crossed legs.

“You better,” she grinned as he kissed her, her arms wounding around his neck. “Because if this pregnancy is anything like the last, my cravings are gonna be wild.” Aspen pulled back just enough for their gazes to meet, and Calum was quick to pick up on the teasingly wicked look in the green of her irises to match the mischievous grin she wore. “And this time I’ve got my baby daddy at my beck and call.”

Calum snorted, not at all finding fear in her words like she wanted him to. With a smirk, he gave her thighs a squeeze and mused, “I put a baby in you; the least I could do is get you food so you don’t kill me for it.”

Aspen pressed her lips together in a close mouthed smile, chuckling as she nodded and gave him another kiss. “Smart man.”

tags: @irwinkitten @loveroflrh @sweetcherrymike @astroashtonio @softforcal @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @theagenderwhocriedwolf @kaytiebug14 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @wildflower-cth @bloodmoonashton @vxidhood @wildflowergrae

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keepingupwithzaynmalik · 4 years

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Songs that defined the decade: ZAYN's 'Pillowtalk'

BY BILLBOARD "He was determined to be himself in his music." Billboard is celebrating the 2010s with essays on the 100 songs that we feel most define the decade that was -- the songs that both shaped and reflected the music and culture of the period -- with help telling their stories from some of the artists, behind-the-scenes collaborators and industry insiders involved. Less than one year after leaving One Direction (and two months after 1D's first album without him), Zayn unveiled his debut single, "Pillowtalk," in January 2016. And while the first solo release from a former member of the world's biggest boy band was sure to capture fan curiosity, endless headlines and social media buzz, there was no guarantee of success. After all, with the notable exceptions of Justin Timberlake and Bobby Brown, most boy band vets end up on the clearance shelf when it comes to solo ventures. But Zayn was a bit different. "Being somewhat of a dark horse of the bunch, being the guy that left, he had an edge to him and mystery to him," explains RCA Records co-president John Fleckenstein, who worked on the campaign to launch him as a solo star. To that end, his solo sound leaned into his enigmatic image. Far removed from the bubblegum rush of early 1D or the band's late-career pivot to more MOR adult pop-rock, Zayn's sonic aesthetic was woozy alt-R&B dressed up with warped electronic flourishes. Plus, separated from four other competing singers, his voice was capable of a sonic richness few knew he possessed, which "Pillowtalk" handily demonstrates: one moment he's soaring comfortably in an upper register, then next he's dipping low to a soft, seductive caress. The lyrics were equally libidinous (“In the bed all day/ F--king and fighting on”), revealing that, yes, like most young and famous people, Zayn had R-Rated moments in his life – and for the first time, he didn't need to hide it. “We weren’t allowed to say certain things, or word [lyrics] the way we would want to," Zayn told Billboard in a 2016 cover story about his 1D days. “I’d sit and wonder, ‘If the fans knew how it worked, what would they think?’ My argument was: People are more intelligent than that. They want to hear what’s real, so why don’t we write some stuff that we’re actually going through?” "Pillowtalk" is just that, detailing the reckless abandon of attraction and the way a relationship can feel simultaneously feel like a "paradise" and a "war zone." And with real-life girlfriend at the time Gigi Hadid starring in the steamy music video (which arrived the same day the song debuted), there was an added layer of authenticity – not to mention public interest. With a headline-grabbing video, candid lyrics and a progressive-yet-familiar radio sound, "Pillowtalk" debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, making Zayn the first British artist to debut at No. 1 in the U.S., and getting him to the chart’s top even before his former group. "It was way bigger than we thought," Fleckenstein admits. "Our projections on the downloads were point to a healthy first week, but within days of launch we knew it was going to be more than double [that]." It opened to 267,000 copies sold in its first week, plus 22.3 million streams. "It wasn't just that he had a big fanbase, but that they were so engaged." That engagement didn't wane; the song became a ubiquitous radio hit, setting the stage not just for Zayn's career, but establishing that in the 2010s, former members of boy bands and girl groups could enjoy solo success – even at the same time as one another. With his four former bandmates each scoring top 40 Billboard Hot 100 entries within two years of the group going on hiatus and Fifth Harmony producing two legit solo stars (one of whom has topped the Hot 100 not once but twice), it’s clear that in the 21st century, the pop industry rulebook has been rewritten for alums of hitmaking pop groups. Of course, for someone who left a highly profitable outfit at the peak of their popularity, defying music biz expectations was par for Zayn's course. Says Fleckenstein: "He was determined to be himself in his music and determined to speak his mind and act the way he wanted to act."

#zayn malik #list #press #pillowtalk #pillows an iconic queen

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sanikori · 5 years

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So, i forced myself to watch Leaving Neverland...

And i swear, i've never hated some stangers in my life to the point where i want them dead. I felt my oxygen leave me and i was choking on my fucking tears from all the lies. I felt so sick, that i puked 5 times. But now i've recomposed myself so that i can expose these liars. I didn't want to go back in time and know how in feels to be a moonwalker in 1993. I wanted people to still talk about Michael, but not like this, never like this.

First things first, as Michael Williams, stated on Twitter, Michael has been investigated from the FBI for 13 fucking years.

Here we see 72 officers and 50 FBI agents in the Neverland Ranch in Santa Barbara. They searched every angle and interviewed everyone to find evidence and guess what? They found nothing.

He's been proved innocent at not 1 but 2 trials. To this day, there's still no valid proof that Michael did any of those things.

Even Michael’s fucking bodyguard stepped in to defended him and expose Wade.

Here's some of the bullshit they said in that documentary, Let's start with James Safetruck: James: "I've spent Thanksgiving in 1987 with him at his home" Wrong, Michael was in Australia as a part of the Bad Tour in November 24 1987 James: "Michael didn't want us spending any time with women and cut contact with me after puberty"

Really James? then how come we see you AFTER puberty holding an umbrella for Michael while Michael's ex wife, Lisa Marie Presley, was there with the both of you. James: "I was abused by Michael in New York in 1989 after he performed at the Grammys" Fake. The Grammys were in Los Angeles and Michael didn't perform at the Grammys in 1989. Now let's go with Wade Robson Wade: "I was molested by Michael between ages 7 and 14" Wade is now 36 so it happened from 1989 till 1996. So you're telling me that these "rapes" happend DURING the Chandler investigation and DURING Michael's marriage to Lisa Marie Presley as well? and the FBI found nothing? really? bitch please.

Here comes my favourite lie Then there's the MANIPOLATED footage of Michael begin honoured at the Regent Hotel and he apparently recorded a message for Wade "on his birthday" where Michael "says" "Hello Wade, today is your birthday"

The video at the Regent Hotel was recorded on the 20th February in 1990 while Wade's birthday in on the 7th of September and the original video was meant for Elizabeth Taylor.

Also Wade and James didn't even really grew up with Michael, they didn't even know Michael that well... they BEGGED to have Michael's attention and since Michael is an angel, they got it. Also i'd like to tell you that it’s the same Wade that DEFENDED Michael not only once, but 3 mother fucking times.

If you two are saying that Michael raped you both, then how come that Macaulay Culkin (the kid from the "Home Alone" movie) the one who literally grew up with Michael by his side, who basically lived at Neverland and was a child like the both of you, said that nothing happened between him and Michael and is still defending him to this day?

They change their stories every fucking second too. Wade has changed his story 4 times and James 2 times. Wade's first version of the story: Michael threatened and manipulated him that they'll go to jail if he says anything Wade's second version of the story: He didn't "realize" he's been abused Wade's third version of the story: He felt shame Wade's fourth version of the story: He ALWAYS knew what Michael did but he didn't realize it was bad (because who doesn't have anal sex with kids, right?) Then there's James: James's first version of the story: Michael and his people were threatening him to keep quiet and James refused to testify but he and his mom knew he had been abused James's second version of the story: He didn't realize he was abused till 2014. They're so worthless that they don't even know how to lie. If you gotta lie about a dead man to earn money, do it properly. It's also funny how they don't mention that Michael was around little girls as well and not only boys, whenever it was on the streets or in Neverland. Meanwhile Oprah just said "Fuck you" to 3 generations of Jacksons by backstabbing the man who welcomed her in his house by siding with these little shits. Not only Oprah knew, but she provited the “victims”. Also the reason why Oprah promoted "Leaving Neverland" is because at the Sundance, it was also a documentary about Harvey Weinstein, who is an actual pedophile and has been found guilty. But since he's Oprah’s best friend (yes, you heard that right) they just diverted the attention in media to Michael instead of Weinstein But Wade is the one i hate the most because not only he is a liar but he's also the REAL pedophile... his reputation was so bad that kids at jumpdance called him "Uncle Perv" and the mothers wanted them to stay away from him. Like, there's literally a photo of him side hugging a girl and his left hand is close to her breast while he has his right hand on his fucking dick.

He cheated on Michael's niece, Brandi Jackson (the two have been in a relationship for 8 years) with Britney Spears which resulted in Justin Timberlake's "Cry Me A River" song and he did hard drugs. Not to mention that he made out with his SISTER ON STAGE! and this bastard has a son which i really feel sorry for... but most of all, he's a crazy ass bitch. Paris Jackson (Michael's daughter) and Taj Jackson (Michael's nephew) are both REAL victims of sexual abuse, stop to think how these two feel about this. Also Taj found texts with Wade in 2009 where Wade is thanking Taj for letting him go to Michael's memorial

Also Taj recently stated in an inteview that Michael's third son, Bigi (Blanket) Jackson is not talking anymore. And the teachers are worried about him. He literally won't speak, at all.

In conclusion: Michael Jackson is innocent. He’s the real victim.

Please, tell what would lead him to do such a thing?

You're just gonna forget all the money he gave to charity? the many lives he saved? how he considered his fans as part of his family?

I've been a fan of him since i was 4 and i'll love and defend him till i die. This man saved me with his music in my darkest times, i feel protected whenever i see or hear anything related to him, he's my inspiration, my everything and if i could make a dead celebrity come back to life, it would be him... i was meant to go to his "This Is It" concert in July, meeting him for the first time but... it never happened... because he left... i've been called a pedophile supporter just for defending him... do you know how much this hurts? I've seen "moonwalkers" turning their back on Michael like it was nothing... i've been told that i need to accept the fact that my hero is in reality a bad guy, that i'm protecting him just cause i'm a fan.

They made you belive that he bleached his skin when in reality he suffered from Vitiligo and wasn't confident enough to show it to the entire world.

They made you belive that he changed because he had too much plastic surgery when in reality he suffered from Lupus. But even if the did have too much plastic surgery, why should it matter since half of the celebrities have plastic surgery?

They made you belive that he was gay when in reality he has been married to Debbie Rowe, who gifted him with Prince and Paris, and Lisa Marie Presley, he crushed on Diana Ross and Brooke Shields, was kissed on stage by Taitana Thumbtzen aka the girl in TWYMMF (The Way You Make Me Feel) and how to forget his infamous In The Closet song with Naomi Campbell? but even if he was, he’s still Michael.

They made you belive that he was a Junkie when in reality he had many medical illnesses that needed medication and a lot of painkillers.

But most of all, they made you belive that he was a pedophile when in reality he wanted to create the childhood he never had in his adulthood and there's nothing wrong with that, he couldn’t trust adults because instead of seeing him as a human with emotions, they saw him as a cash machine. If it wasn't for the kids, he would have already killed himself, he wouldn’t care to live and he said that he would rather slit his wrists instead of hurting a child.

It's not about defending my idol just cause i'm one of his countless fans, it's about giving a voice to a man who's no longer here to defend himself.

How am i going to belive them since they're accusing Michael Joseph Jackson, the same Michael that didn't want to step on a bug and called his bodyguard to take it while saying "Don't kill it!" while he was performing on stage? the same Michael that would have died for a squirrel?

This man is dead

Attacking a dead man isn't brave.

James Gunn is still alive and he signed with a major studio

Where in everyone in the media?

They are a bunch of pathetic cowards.

So guys please, don't watch this so called documentary cause they are calling:

His ex wives liars

His friends liars

The people who worked for him for over 20 years liars

His fans liars

His FAMILY liars

But they want you to just belive the word of two proven liars.

It’s been almost 10 years since we lost him.

Wake the fuck up.

Can’t belive we’re in 2019 and you decide now that he’s guilty for something he never did. Evan Chandler forced his son, Jordan Chandler, to accuse Michael for money. Then when Michael died, Evan regretted it so much that he hanged himself. I'm waiting for Wade, James, Oprah, Martin, Connrad and everyone who belives them to do the same thing since they're all nothing but a waste of air. But don't you worry cause Taj is making a TRUE documentary that proves Michael's innocence and once it's released, they will watch their lifes crumble into tiny pieces with their own eyes and i will be there, smiling while eating pocorns. Anyone who’s a brain washed moron who don’t belive that Michael is innocent or even thinks of calling me a pedophile supporter needs to fuck off right fucking now because you will be attacked visciously, blocked and reported so DO NOT BOTHER ME

In case you didn’t understand, i’ll gladly repeat in a more vulgar way since it’s the only way you can all communicate with other people

DUMBASS BITCHES DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME! STAY THE FUCK BACK!

You guys don’t bother to do your research, you should hear both sides of the story to come to a conclusion instead of going along with everything they say. You all eat their plate of lies just like you eat your mother’s food at lunch time. You don’t ask yourself “Are they lying to me?” no, you just go along with every single fucking thing they say cause you’re dependent from the Media.

Face it, we are in the right and we’re going to win this battle. Also, these people without Michael in their lifes, would have been nothing. PS: Someone needs to tell Wade that fantazing about having Michael's dick in his mouth at age 11 in not normal.

Now i want you all to blast at all volume the songs Money, Tabloid Junkie, Morphine and Leave Me Alone in honour of these good for nothing liars as you read this post of them begin exposed from head to toe by me

#michael jackson

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thepachanga · 4 years

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Songs That Defined the Decade: ZAYN's 'Pillowtalk'

Less than one year after leaving One Direction (and two months after 1D's first album without him), Zayn unveiled his debut single, "Pillowtalk," in January 2016. And while the first solo release from a former member of the world's biggest boy band was sure to capture fan curiosity, endless headlines and social media buzz, there was no guarantee of success. After all, with the notable exceptions of Justin Timberlake and Bobby Brown, most boy band vets end up on the clearance shelf when it comes to solo ventures.

But Zayn was a bit different. "Being somewhat of a dark horse of the bunch, being the guy that left, he had an edge to him and mystery to him," explains RCA Records co-president John Fleckenstein, who worked on the campaign to launch him as a solo star.

To that end, his solo sound leaned into his enigmatic image. Far removed from the bubblegum rush of early 1D or the band's late-career pivot to more MOR adult pop-rock, Zayn's sonic aesthetic was woozy alt-R&B dressed up with warped electronic flourishes. Plus, separated from four other competing singers, his voice was capable of a sonic richness few knew he possessed, which "Pillowtalk" handily demonstrates: one moment he's soaring comfortably in an upper register, then next he's dipping low to a soft, seductive caress.

The lyrics were equally libidinous (“In the bed all day/ F--king and fighting on”), revealing that, yes, like most young and famous people, Zayn had R-Rated moments in his life – and for the first time, he didn't need to hide it.

“We weren’t allowed to say certain things, or word [lyrics] the way we would want to," Zayn told Billboard in a 2016 cover story about his 1D days. “I’d sit and wonder, ‘If the fans knew how it worked, what would they think?’ My argument was: People are more intelligent than that. They want to hear what’s real, so why don’t we write some stuff that we’re actually going through?”

"Pillowtalk" is just that, detailing the reckless abandon of attraction and the way a relationship can feel simultaneously feel like a "paradise" and a "war zone." And with real-life girlfriend at the time Gigi Hadid starring in the steamy music video (which arrived the same day the song debuted), there was an added layer of authenticity – not to mention public interest. With a headline-grabbing video, candid lyrics and a progressive-yet-familiar radio sound, "Pillowtalk" debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, making Zayn the first British artist to debut at No. 1 in the U.S., and getting him to the chart’s top even before his former group.

"It was way bigger than we thought," Fleckenstein admits. "Our projections on the downloads were point to a healthy first week, but within days of launch we knew it was going to be more than double [that]." It opened to 267,000 copies sold in its first week, plus 22.3 million streams. "It wasn't just that he had a big fanbase, but that they were so engaged."

That engagement didn't wane; the song became a ubiquitous radio hit, setting the stage not just for Zayn's career, but establishing that in the 2010s, former members of boy bands and girl groups could enjoy solo success – even at the same time as one another. With his four former bandmates each scoring top 40 Billboard Hot 100 entries within two years of the group going on hiatus and Fifth Harmony producing two legit solo stars (one of whom has topped the Hot 100 not once but twice), it’s clear that in the 21st century, the pop industry rulebook has been rewritten for alums of hitmaking pop groups.

Of course, for someone who left a highly profitable outfit at the peak of their popularity, defying music biz expectations was par for Zayn's course. Says Fleckenstein: "He was determined to be himself in his music and determined to speak his mind and act the way he wanted to act."

#zayn #long post /

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bthenoise · 4 years

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Prom Stories: Here’s 14 Tales Of The Dance Floor From Some Of Your Favorite Bands

With this year’s prom most likely cancelled for all high schoolers across the nation (super sad, we know), we didn’t want to leave you in dark for what can be a pretty memorable night -- both good and bad.

So, in an attempt to help you both experience prom and also realize that missing it might not be the end of the world after all, we’ve collected some pretty interesting stories from some of your favorite bands.

To check out how members of This Wild Life, Grayscale, Beach Bunny, Broadside and more spent their "My Chemical Slow Dance,” be sure to see below. Afterward, make sure to enjoy our prom-inspired playlist here.

Kevin Jordan - This Wild Life

I was too nervous to ask a girl to prom so instead I made a huge banner and hung it on the side of the tallest building at our school that said, “Ashley Debry, Prom? - Kevin Jordan.” She was the cheerleader captain and proceeded to break her shoulder and arm tumbling or some shit but she was a good sport and attended in a lace-adorned sling. It went better than my buddy Kris though, his Ford Falcon’s hood flew up on the freeway on the way there and he couldn’t see the road. Had to pull over and [his date] asked to go home.

Lili Trifilio - Beach Bunny

I went to prom like five times because I was obsessed with school dances but nothing beats the time my date ditched me, made me buy him Chipotle, then tried to hang out again later. This guy was different from the rest of my prom dates because I was secretly in love with him. He accepted my invite but then “forgot” to pick me up so my dad had to bring me to the photo portion, which was super embarrassing and a bad start to the night. Then, when the slow song came on at the dance, I was like “Yes, this is my shot!” When he approached me, I assumed he was going to ask me to dance. Instead he told me he was gonna leave with this other girl and left me in complete shock. Luckily, one of my guy friends saw me crying and asked me to dance so that I wouldn’t be a complete mess. Then, this boy has the audacity to text me in the morning asking me to see his new motorcycle?! Keep in mind, we were all in the same friend group and hung out every weekend but after that night I never talked to him again -- at the time, I didn’t know this, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve me and I definitely dodged a bullet.

Nick Ventimiglia - Grayscale

To be honest, none of us in Grayscale ever went to prom. BUT I did go to a few homecomings. I actually won homecoming prince in 10th grade and then homecoming king my senior year. Here’s the catch: I went to private school and there was only like 36 kids in my graduating class, so what can you do? One time that actually sticks out was when I went to my girlfriend’s (at the time) snow-coming, which is essentially a winter version of homecoming. She actually won queen for her class and they didn’t end up nominating anyone for king of her grade, so by default, I won king of her class. I didn’t even go to her school. I was just on stage, with a sash, standing there smiling and it rocked. Come to find out, they cut me out of the yearbook because I didn’t go to the school, so I have no hard evidence. Here are some songs from 2007 that we most likely danced our asses off to while we were buzzing off trash Burnetts Vodka: T.I. - “You Know What It Is” Soulja Boy - “Crank That” Bird Man, Lil Wayne - “Pop Bottles” Fabolous, T-Pain - “Baby Don’t Go” 50 Cent, Justin Timberlake, Timbaland - “Ayo Technology” Unk, OutKast, Jim Jones - “Walk It Out” Shop Boyz - “Party Like A Rock Star” DJ Khaled, Akon, T.I. - “We Takin’ Over” Kanye West - “Good Life” Playa Circle, Lil Wayne - “Duffle Bag Boy”

Broadside

Ollie Baxxter

My prom coincided with my first real breakup. One week before we were meant to go together my date/girlfriend bailed. I was working two jobs at the time and already rented my tux so I just decided to go with my group of friends as the “solo heartbroken guy at prom.” When I got to the dance, the music was terrible and either my loneliness consumed me or I was just a horny teenager but all my classmates looked beautiful. Eventually my ex showed up with a mutual friend and my friend group tried their best to keep me distracted but eventually we met face to face in a hallway on the way to the bathroom. She went to say something and I think I just tried my best to hold back the shame and tears. I left the prom and spent the rest of the night skating with my friends in a parking lot somewhere. Being young is hard.

Jeff Nichols

I only went to prom one year when I was in high school. I was a sophomore and my girlfriend at the time was a junior. I wore a tux with an all-white jacket and my date wore an all-white dress to match. I don’t remember too much since it’s been awhile but I remember it was like an “Under the Sea” type theme, which a lot of us thought was lame but we all still felt like we had to go. We danced some but all ended up leaving early to go bowling then hit Waffle House after. I only went to prom once and I don’t really regret missing the other years. During this time of quarantine, it is sad that a lot of kids don’t get the experience their prom due to closures but if you spend a bunch of money renting an outfit then take a bunch of awkward photos and dance to “Cupid Shuffle” or whatever the equivalent would be now, you pretty much got the main experience of prom.

Dom Reid

My prom night was lackluster, to say the least. I think the new Alice In Wonderland movie had recently come out so that was our “theme” for decorations and what that turned out to be was like a large poster a student had made outside in the hall and then absolutely no decorations inside. I was one of those kids who dated a girl from a different school so it was nice to finally prove she was real. The dance floor was ruled by Lady Gaga and The Black Eyed Peas but someone did manage to get 30 seconds of “Downfall Of Us All” by A Day To Remember played. My date and I left early, grabbed some sushi on the way home. My life truthfully would be the same if I never went to prom. I do feel bad for the kids who don’t at least have the option to go to theirs this year, but I’m sure after a night of recreating TikTok dances in their bedroom, they will be just as fulfilled.

Pat Diaz

I went to prom my junior and senior years, both with the same girl. From what I can remember (because my memory is horrendous, not because I was on the juice), it wasn’t all that fun. Senior year, I was basically stuck in a relationship (for reasons I won’t discuss) and really didn’t want to be there. The highlight of my night was getting breakfast at Perkins at 3:30am. Society puts so much unnecessary significance on prom for no reason other than “if you wanna be cool and fit in.” Sure, you’ll be bummed it’s not happening but I’m pretty sure you’ll be fine knowing that you’re not missing much. If you really want the “prom experience”, drink an energy drink, put on some music and start dancing in your room until 2am then go get McDonalds or something. Same same.

The Wrecks

Nick Anderson

I showed up to prom pictures late because I was playing a show with my high school cover band. I wore my white prom tux on stage during the performance because I literally didn't have time to get changed before racing over to where the pictures were being taken. My date was very unhappy but the disappointment did not end there. Because of the rush, I didn't have time to eat dinner. So on the way to prom, I made my prom date pull her 2005 Volkswagen Beetle through the Burger King drive-thru so I could enjoy a Double STACKER KING with extra bacon. She stood outside of prom for 15 minutes while I ate fast food off the hood of her car. We didn't hang out much after prom.

Aaron Kelley

Nothing classier than a tuxedo t-shirt, black skinny jeans and a DeLorean. I’m sorry for everyone who missed their prom this year but I promise you there’ll be many more opportunities for you to have a tuxedo t-shirt night. <3

Jade Castello - Picturesque

It’s been a year or two since I was in high school but I went to a couple different proms throughout my high school years with my previous girlfriend(s). If my memory serves me correctly, the radio hits at the time were artists such as Jason Derulo and Panic! at the Disco. I might not have won prom king but I did close out the night of my senior prom with a dance-off competition by busting out a backflip to “Let’s Go” by Trick Daddy. Everyone jumping up and down chanting my name was something straight out of a movie ha. Prom was a great experience but missing out on that night isn’t the end of the world. Once we’ve all moved on from high school, you’ll realize that one night doesn’t define your “high school experience.” You have much more to offer this world than how sick you were back in high school.

Nick Zawisa - Breakup Shoes

Senior prom… what a trip. The year was 2014: I was wearing a three-piece suit in like 95 degree weather (cuz, you know, Arizona) driving my Hyundai into downtown Phoenix with one of my best friends (still to this day!)… and I’ve gotta say, that’s about all I remember. I had always thought prom would be this extraordinary experience like how it’s romanticized in the movies but it turned out to just be an awkward ballroom packed with sweaty people I don't even like trying to dance in heels or suits to the all-time worst playlist of 2010s pop music. All that to say, my feelings on the night could be summed up into “Prom: an experience to forget.”

Dead Lakes

Cody Hurd

For me, prom was pretty overrated. I was voted prom king, but to be fair, our class only had like 70 people in it voting. I had to awkwardly go on stage and accept my royalty with people I didn't really know because my date was unfortunately not voted prom queen. The rest of the prom I basically spent sitting at a table waiting to just hang out with my friends afterwards. So [if you’re missing prom this year], just spend a night dressing up and FaceTime with your friends. Have some “non-alcoholic” drinks (responsibly of course) and blast some music and dance your hearts out. You won't miss a thing.

Chon Adam

Man, I haven’t thought about prom since basically when it happened. We had our prom at the Space Needle in Seattle with Drake playin’ in the background. Half the people were way too into prom and the other half didn’t care at all. I was definitely in the latter category, so I didn’t have a great time. But most people don’t go to prom to have fun at prom. They go to kick it at parties afterward. Definitely not something that even remotely defined that year for me. So if you’re missing it this year, I promise you you’ll be alright!

House & Home

Joey went to prom and ended up talking to the teachers more than the students. The best part was for sure watching the wrestling coach absolutely lose it to a Vanilla Ice song. Pat went his junior year and decided to sit out his senior year. The best prom related memory from his high school career was when he played the afterparty with his high school band at Dave and Buster’s. Prom was never really anything any of us really looked forward to or made a big deal of much in high school. It’s always fun to look back at the memories, though.

#Prom Stories #This Wild Life #Beach Bunny #Grayscale #Broadside #House & Home #Breakup Shoes #Dead Lakes #Picturesque #The Wrecks #interview

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suepixels · 5 years

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Get to Know Me

Make a simself and add traits if you like but you don’t need to! “Me with my most important men Nero Valcari on the right and Levithian Cavallo on the left - Pixelthirst is real, you guys!” The peeps I met here who encouraged me to start my story? Yeah, I’m freakin’ grateful! Thank youu..! Aspiration: Soulmate + Bonus trait “Romantic” Traits: Creative, Active, Cheerful

I was tagged by the wonderful lady @cillaben and @awolzai is the one who created this tag. So if you wanna read all that shizzle about me. Go ahead and read, I’m not gonna stop you - Oh Gosh! Thanks a bunch, sweet Cilla, you are just wonderful the way you are to me and also for being a fab friend, I 💛 you , obviously you not gonna be tagged for this! Hehe - just messing around... 😉

I’m tagging following simmers because welp I don’t know much about them but I truly 💛 their blog and their stories and personality and would 💛 to know them better. @beverlyallitsims @josiesimblr @tigerellasims , @tangandzing @keysims , @skellysim @shysimblr , @weicyn, @glovely1simmer, @ktosiksims @fabflubs , @cayrees , @shespeakssimlish

Guys you don’t need to do this but it would be dope! There are loads of questions here. So you don’t have to answer all of them if you don’t feel like it. Even if I didn’t tag you feel free to do it - it’s fun!

WARNING: Answers to 125 questions are under the cut.

What is your name? Suzana

What is your nickname? Sue

🎂? May 11th

What is your favorite 📓 series? Um, the last I read as a series was “The Lord of the rings” (A throwback to childhood, damm I was 13 when I read it the first time, hehe) I rather read single books 📚, seldom series

Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? Ghosts? Dunno I’m not sure, never met one but don’t want either if they exist! LOL. Aliens? Wait a billion of galaxies with trillion of stars and I should believe that we are the only living creatures in the universe? Naah we are not alone - E.T. is out there. Does it answer your question? LOL

Who is your favorite author? Ugh... The ones I can think of right now? goshI have a bunch... um... Robert Greene, Marion Zimmer Bradley (all Avalon books) Patrice Leovold who’s book taught me that Eleanor of Aquitaine used to be a strong woman and queen of two countries in Europe! I love history stuff so I read a bunch of German authors who write historical novels.

What is your favorite radio station? If I listen to any it would be JAM FM from Berlin (Hip-Hop, RnB, Soul etc) Haven’t heard it in years... but Youtube is my main source for music, hehe

What is your favorite flavor of anything? If it’s not spicy go home and try it again, okay? It has to be spicy... yeah I’m used to it. A day without my Latte Macchiato is a no-no! (80% creamy milk with 1 cup of espresso, only the real deal for me, capeesh? Hehe!

What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful? Dope!

What is your current favorite song? 💛 Stuck in my head this one arrrgh gosh: Blindness by Justin Timberlake

What is your favorite word? Welp? LOL 😆

What was the last song you listened to? I will wait for you by Nicky Parrott

What 📺 show would you recommend for everybody to watch? The Originals, Vampire Diaries (isn’t it obvious?) Lucifer (love the sarcasm) The Good Doctor, This is Us and heck, yeah Game of Thrones agree with @cillaben

What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? Any good sci-fi, fantasy movie “Just let me escape this world for a second or two”

Do you play video games? Yup, as an addict I play only Sims 4, 3 & 2 😲

What is your biggest fear? To die, too early before I could do all the things I desire to do.

What is your best quality, in your opinion? I’ve been told be caring, dunno!

What is your worst quality, in your opinion? I can be stubborn but hey someone told me I’m just persistent in all the things I do, you know... 😁

Do you like cats or dogs better? I used to love cats more but since my sis has a Malinois. I love both.. Guys, Stella is the best craziest dog I’ve seen!

What is your favorite season? Summer

Are you in a relationship? Neep, bloody single...welp =D

What is something you miss from your childhood? My love for ballet? I did yesterday the first time after 15 yrs some exercises on a bar at the gym and the belief that anything is possible - still hoping!

Who is your best friend? Currently, run out of “best friends” shizzle

What is your eye color? Green-yellowish - yup like a cat 😁

What is your hair color? By nature? Ash blonde but I love brown!

Who is someone you 💛? My sister and my nephews

Who is someone you trust? Only my big sis

Who is someone you think about often? My ex, who I still love. I know I should drop it but when your heart says something else and your mind reminds you NOPE - Game over! Dang, it! Can someone press the restart button for me, please? LOL Naaah, don’t worry I’m fine but you know sometimes you think too much about could have, would have blah, blah...

Are you currently 🙌 about/for something? I’m 🙌 about to go to bed!

What is your biggest obsession? Fitness (again), Dancing, being creative, TV series, Cooking, Web surfing, Gaming, Traveling geez I can’t name them all I have many obsessions. LOL

What was your favorite 📺 show as a 👶? As a child, I wasn’t allowed to watch TV but what I remember is that I liked “Once Upon a Time... Life” a European/Asien cartoon about how the human's body system works (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sY11Hu_ju5M&list=PLtAciEfQHAwvs1hIkWN_YNpD8E4sno--C)

Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone? Nobody. I’m too open-minded and a bunch of peeps are simply sick in their head and interpret shizzle just because I say “Live your life your way - it’s not my business” So I keep it private.

Are you superstitious? Nope, not that I’m aware of =D

Do you have any unusual phobias? Darkness, if the light goes suddenly off and I see nothing? Yeah, it creeps the heck out of me. A childhood trauma - my mother did scare to death!

Do you prefer to be in front of the door or behind it? In front!

What is your favorite hobby? Fitness, surfing, 👀 movies and playing sims of course.

What was the last 📓 you read? The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene

What was the last movie you 👀? The new Fantastic Beasts movie

What musical instruments do you play, if any? None =( wish to play piano, tho - need to check Google Play for an app - LOL

What is your favorite animal? Birds

What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow? I have quite a bunch I check daily like a stalker - all wonderful human beings =)

What superpower do you wish you had? The ability to be immortal

When and where do you feel most at ✌️? Sweet Home

What makes you 😁? Sarcastic Humor, it goes deep under your skin

What sports do you play, if any? Naah, I do Functional Fitness and soon Breakletics but I don’t play sports.

What is your favorite drink? Latte Macchiato and Raspberry Mojito

When was the last time you wrote a ✋-written letter or note to somebody? A goodbye letter to my ex-boyfriend when I canceled to continue to be just friends with him. Well because of the feels I still have him...even after 5 yrs...still unforgotten!

Are you 😨 of heights? Depends...

What is your biggest pet peeve? Fake people, superficial characters

Have you ever been to a concert? Yes, quite a lot...

Are you vegan/vegetarian? Never ever - I need meat!

When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? A ballet dancer or an artist in general.

What fictional place would you like to live in? Atlantis - Undersea Waterworld

What is something you worry about? Yes, I worry all the time

Are you 😨 of the dark? Depends, if there is no light, yes!

Do you like to sing? Yes!

Have you ever skipped school? Never. I was a proud nerd!

What is your favorite place on the 🌍? Home

Where would you like to live? Atlanta, USA or UK - London

Do you have any pets? Neep, not allowed by the landlord

Are you more of an early bird or a night owl? Night Owl

Do you like sunrises or sunsets better? Sunrise - A new day to start fresh!

Do you know how to drive? I know, but I don’t have a license - hihi

Do you prefer earbuds or 🎧? Earbuds

Have you ever had braces? Neep, lucky me

What is your favorite genre of 🎶? RnB, Soul, Hip Hop, “German Hip Hop”, Classic, Jazz, Blues, Bossa Nova, Dancehall, Reggaeton, Twerk - actually all kind of genres, always depends on the song! 🎶

Who is your hero? Hero? Ugh... Dunno to be honest...

Do you read comic 📚? I used to, not anymore

What makes you the most 😠? Rudeness, Racism in general, Lies, and Betrayal

Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real 📓? I need a real book, okay? As much as I ’m a lover of newest technologies but some stuff are simply gold when it’s the “real deal”.

What was your favorite subject in school? Languages ( I speak 3 fluid English, German, Serbian somewhat a little French), Informatics, Art, Music, and History

Do you have any siblings? A sister and a brother

What was the last thing you bought? Meat

How tall are you? 5′3 or about 164 cms

Can you cook? Yeees, herbs? Spices? Experimenting? All that jazz, yes

What are three things that you 💛? My sis, Fitness and writing my story here.

What are three things that you hate? Racists, Betrayal and when people lie about their feelings.

Do you have more female friends or more male friends? Male, most women never liked me... dunno... why!

What is your sexual orientation? Straight

Where do you currently live? Germany

Who was the last person you texted? My sister

When was the last time you 😢? On 3rd of Nov. because I saw my brother - we don’t talk

Who is your favorite YouTuber? Xurbansimsx (Sims) that’s it!

Do you like to take selfies? Neep, not currently... I gained too much... due to my illness but working it off now that I’m feeling better.

What is your favorite app? Tumblr and Pinterest

What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? My dad passed away. Broken, dramatic family war! No, contact with my brother because of my mother this binch. My sister is my everything 💛 💛 💛

What is your favorite foreign accent? French and when American speak German, aaah I love it!.

What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit? New York, South Africa, New Zeeland and Australia

What is your favorite number? 5

Can you juggle? Naaah

Are you religious? Nope

Do you find outer space of the deep ocean to be more interesting? Both

Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? Sometimes, a little naughty, hehe

Are you allergic to anything? Cat hair :(

Can you curl your tongue? Yips

Can you wiggle your ears? Nooope

How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? When I’m wrong I do apologize but it happens seldom

Do you prefer the forest or the beach? Beach, babe!

What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you? Who has told you that life is fair?

Are you a good liar? I guess I can be if I have to!

What is your Hogwarts 🏠? Hufflepuff

Do you talk to yourself? Yeah, I do so what? I just maintain a relationship with myself, okay 😂 Call me crazy, I don’t care..hehe 😜

Are you an introvert or an extrovert? extrovert

Do you keep a journal/diary? I used to but stopped, have 5 books

Do you believe in second chances? Yes

If you found a wallet full of 💰 on the ground, what would you do? Tbh? Currently, I would keep it.

Do you believe that people are capable of change? Difficult, it depends on the character.

Are you ticklish? Some secrets areas - yeas!

Have you ever been on a ✈️? Heck yeah, quite a lot - I’m a “Fernweh” Girl and a traveler!

Do you have any piercings? Ears, Belly and I used to have my nose pierced, too but business sucks so I had to take it out! LOL

What fictional character do you wish was real? Mr. Darcy from ‘Pride and Prejudice’

Do you have any tattoos? Yes, one on my back and I want more!

What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far? Running away from home, living my own life and not allowing anyone to tell me how I should live my life - I have one life to live, so my rules apply!

Do you believe in karma? Yes

Do you wear glasses or contacts? Contacts during daytime at night glasses

Do you want children? Yes, at least one - hopefully!

Who is the smartest person you know? My ex-boyfriend

What is your most embarrassing memory? When a friend of mine showed via an accident how fake she truly was. She lost her fake hair and her nails got broken and all this in public on a dancefloor in front of my friends. (We were teens, LOL)

Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? Almost but not really so, naah

What color are most of your clothes? Black, mint, turquoise and darker versions of green, blue, brown and red.

Do you like adventures? Depends on adventure

Have you ever been on 📺? Almost as a TV-host for a German music channel! Had a casting back in my teenhood!

How old are you? 35+ I look younger than I really am and I don’t feel like it. Nope, not gonna say it publicly. I would feel instantly older.. LOL but I tell in private!

What is your favorite movie quote? “He is your first love. I intend to be your last” - The Originals by Klaus Mikelson

Sweet or savory? Sweet

youtube

Yeah, you may notice I like to add videos =) that’s the song which spins around in my head currently... Love the beat!

#tagged #nonsims #private #ignore it you don't need to read it #it's a lot #sue babbles #simedit #ts4 edit

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zayntoxicateme · 6 years

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June 18, 2018

We managed to catch up with the quietly enigmatic singer.

Read "How Do You Explain Zayn?"

Zayn, the one-named man who found himself reborn after leaving One Direction, is now on GQ's cover. In his shoot with Sebastian Mader, Zayn channels Tyler Durden and Leo DiCaprio's Romeo. And the wildly enigmatic singer also let down his guard, briefly, in talking to writer Carrie Battan about his relationship with Gigi Hadid, the self indulgence of being a "star," and his crafty use of the paparazzi for his own devices—a story you can read here (full story is below; the link will take you to the GQ website)

How Do You Explain Zayn?

Carrie Battan

Photographs by

Sebastian Mader

The 25-year-old British singer is deeply, maddeningly, almost trolling-ly enigmatic. And that cultivated mystery—along with his disdain for the standard rules of superstardom—is probably what puts him on the short list for COOLEST HUMAN ALIVE. On a recent Friday night, though, he dropped his guard and spilled his guts.

There are exactly two places in New York on a Friday night where Zayn Malik can smoke Marlboro Lights as liberally and openly as he pleases, unencumbered by gawkers or the city's increasingly draconian anti-smoking laws. The ﬁrst is Zayn Malik's SoHo apartment, where he spends the majority of his time, zoning out, reading books, listening to music, and "partaking in the herb," as he says. The second is the Mary A. Whalen, a 172-foot-long restored-tanker-ship-turned-nonproﬁt-hangout-spot that is docked off the shore of Red Hook, Brooklyn. The ship is closed for business after 6 P.M., but tonight its leader, a hardy blonde ship preservationist named Carolina, has agreed to keep it open late to accommodate us. No crowds, a few plastic chairs, and a gently lilting surface that is basically a giant ashtray.

There is just one problem: The temperature on deck is decreasing rapidly with the setting sun, and Zayn—the 25-year-old former British-boy-band member, current solo pop-ish star, and all-around inscrutable avatar of contemporary celebrity—has arrived with nothing on his person but a lighter, a backpack, and an iPhone. No jacket on his rail-thin five-ten frame—just a pair of charcoal skinny jeans, a distressed Pink Floyd T-shirt, a bright pink beanie that obscures his new ﬂower skull tattoo (or "tah-oo," as Zayn pronounces it). He looks so modernly cool, blending a hip-hop swagger with a punk-rock edge, that he should receive a cut from Urban Outﬁtters every time someone makes a purchase. He is the only man whose Disney-princess-long eyelashes seem to bolster his machismo rather than diminish it. Nobody this dreamy has ever bothered to check the weather to see if he should grab a jacket before leaving the house. Through chattering teeth, he rejects multiple offers of blankets. "It's all good," he insists, burping faintly after taking a swig of his Peroni. "I'm cool."

Still, Carolina avails us of the ship's warmer galley. "I might have a cigarette ﬁrst?" Zayn asks, as though he needs permission, gesturing toward the other side of the ship. Over there is his assistant Taryn, a young woman with French-braided pigtails that make her look more like a high school soccer player than someone designated to manage the everyday logistics of a notoriously slippery superstar's life. She is the custodian of his pack, doling out individual cigarettes to Zayn periodically.

But Carolina assures us Zayn will not have to stay outside to smoke his cigarette. She'll let us smoke belowdecks on the condition that Zayn provide her one of his Marlboros and permission to snap a photograph. She promises she won't post it until after the story runs. "Uh…yeah?" Zayn replies, sounding sincerely surprised that he is the one who has to answer a question that was directed at him.

A steely detachment from life's mundane logistical concerns is part of almost every celebrity's existence, but it is the core of Zayn's being. This character trait has ruinous potential, but it also means he gets to live his life exactly how he pleases. And it means that he doesn't have to express a single word or hint of desire in order for the conditions around him to re-arrange to his liking and comfort. There's a hapless Peter Pan quality to it that makes it tough to hold against him.

We settle around the table in the '70s-style kitchen on the boat. It's 15 degrees warmer down here and private. Zayn instantly appears relieved, his shoulders unclenching and his brow de-furrowing. He stops shivering. He is in a womb-like space, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, and he seems palpably and unexpectedly happy. "Thanks," he says quietly and earnestly in Carolina's direction as she seals off the door behind us. "Couple of times I tried to quit. But I just like smoking cigs. Simple as that."

There is a major conundrum in Zayn's life, which is that he may be constitutionally incapable of being a star. He tells me so almost immediately. "I don't work well in group situations, with loads of people staring at me. And when you say 'star'…everyone wants you to be this kind of character that owns a room or is overly arrogant or conﬁdent. I'm not that guy," he says. "So I don't want to be a star." Zayn seems to aspire to the soul of Prince, or some cult '90s skate-punk ﬁgure, but is trapped in the trajectory of a Justin Timberlake.

A decade ago, someone like Zayn would not have become the Chosen Member of a band like One Direction. The Chosen Member is the boy-band graduate whose solo career evolves and hurdles into grown-up relevance, ultimately overshadowing the band's legacy. Until recently, you could spot a Chosen Member from a mile away—he was unequivocally the best dancer and the one the most girls wanted to bring home to their parents. But Zayn never ﬁt the mold of a Chosen Member. From the day One Direction formed, on the U.K. show The X Factor in 2010, he was cast as the smoldering background foil to the eager-to-please Harry Styles and Liam Payne. His energy and his dance moves were muted. He presented as the quiet, disillusioned one.

But in the past ﬁve years or so, it has become acceptable—necessary, even—for a young pop star to show some edge. Thanks to the social-media-fueled, ever intensifying quest for authenticity, real or feigned, we no longer expect our most famous musicians to be toothless and virginal robots. Now we demand that they show a certain degree of lustiness, instability, anti-heroism. The Weeknd scored a No. 1 hit with an elaborately coded song about a cocaine binge—and then followed it up with another No. 1 hit, this one explicitly referencing a cocaine binge. Lana Del Rey's entire aesthetic revolves around a kind of narcotized death wish. And Taylor Swift spent her last album desperately trying to persuade us that she really is villainous. Even Disney's babiest-faced of pop princesses, Selena Gomez, is getting mileage out of her demons, playing a Girl, Interrupted–style heroine and rocking a hospital bracelet in a music video. Face tattoos are basically required for entry onto the Billboard Hot 100 these days. Squeaky-clean is no more.

And yet even for the most tortured-seeming of these artists, there is still a ﬁerce expectation that they play the game. Mild drug habits or mental illnesses are perfectly acceptable, so long as someone is willing to write catchy songs about those tendencies and then later gussy them up for arena audiences and gamely ﬁeld jokes from talk-show hosts. Even Justin Bieber, the poster child for our current era of troubled pop stars, is always just one phone call with his pastor away from being able to quiet his demons and pop-and-lock on demand.

Zayn seems like a perfect avatar for this new generation of bruised pop heartthrobs, but he's the only one of his cohorts who can back it up with a sincerely jaded disposition and an unpredictable way of being. He is the only one who is staunchly unwilling to play the game. You will not ﬁnd Zayn cheesing with a random group of famous people for someone's Instagram story at Coachella, nor will you ﬁnd Zayn learning the latest viral dance move with Ellen DeGeneres. When he released his solo debut, Mind of Mine, two years ago, he opted out of touring altogether, surely pissing off a bunch of emotionally and ﬁnancially invested parties. And although he promises to be more public-facing this time around—he insists he will tour—he's still removed from the album-cycle content churn. He says the creators of Atlanta have reached out to him to appear on the show—a dream opportunity for anyone in the music industry at this moment—but persnickety Zayn is still mulling the potential. "If the part's right, I'd be really into it," he says. Even the "behind-the-scenes" video that accompanied his new single fails to actually take anyone "behind the scenes"—it's just the song playing over some B-roll. "I guess the cameraman didn't get too much footage," Zayn says on the boat. "I might have been running away from him a bit."

When I ask him why he failed to show up at the Met Gala a couple days earlier, he almost chokes on his cigarette smoke as he exhales. He went to the Met Gala once, in 2016, and that experience symbolized everything he detests about being a famous person—and the litany of coercion and artiﬁce that someone in his position experiences.

"I did go, but I didn't go there to be like, 'Yo, take me serious,' " he remembers. "I was taking the piss! I went there as my favorite Mortal Kombat character, Jax."

He continues: "The Met Gala is not necessarily anything that I ever knew about or was about. But my [former] stylist…would say to me, 'This is really good for you to do.' And no matter how strong you are mentally, you can always be swayed to do certain things. Now, it's not something I would go to. I'd rather be sitting at my house, doing something productive, than dressing up in really expensive clothes and being photographed on a red carpet.… To do the self-indulgent Look at me, I'm amazing thing on the red carpet, it's not me."

Here Zayn catches himself, probably realizing this might register as a diss of Gigi Hadid, the 23-year-old supermodel he's been in an on-again, off-again relationship with for two years. The supermodel who very much seemed to enjoy dressing up in really expensive clothes and being photographed on the red carpet days earlier.

"I get it, and I understand that people gain enjoyment from it," he says. I ask if he followed along with the coverage from his couch. "No, no," he says, and pauses. "Gi stole the night, though. The stained glass on her dress. Everyone else just put a cross on."

When I ask Zayn if he has any conﬁdants in the industry, he shakes his head vigorously. "No," he says. "I don't ever want to cross wires with other people too much. I just want to see the world through my eyes."

Zayn grew up with three sisters ("I was outnumbered," he says) and is still surrounded by women, ensuring that there's a high level of exasperated but fond maternal energy swirling at all times. Blood relatives and the Hadids—particularly Gigi's mother, Yolanda, who seems to have taken on a Kris Jenner–ian role in his life—make up much of his inner circle today. ("We get on. She's really fucking cool. She's a Capricorn. She's the same star sign as me.") He recently parted ways with his high-proﬁle manager. His best friend is a younger cousin.

"I'm not [in] the mix," he says. "I'm outside the mix."

This kind of stubborn non-participation, of course, is a reaction to the years Zayn spent being in a mix that was not to his liking. When he was a kid, growing up in the northern working-class city of Bradford, singing was just one part of an aimless but all-consuming creative impulse. He never thought he was much of a singer, until one day the choir leader at his performing-arts school praised his voice and suggested that he try out for Britain's premier vocal-competition show. Zayn's mom had to drag him from his bed at 4 A.M. to attend the audition, where he broke from the typical pop fare with a rendition of Mario's "Let Me Love You."

After his X Factor audition, there was an exchange (never aired) in which head judge Simon Cowell probed baby Zayn. " 'You know, with all these online platforms, why haven't you ever put out anything prior to this?' " Zayn remembers Cowell asking him. Zayn seemed the type, after all: a soft-spoken and artistically gifted teen who liked to sing alone in his bedroom and tinkered with rudimentary song-recording equipment. "I didn't necessarily think my stuff would be seen amongst the millions of people who put their stuff online. So I went with X Factor at that age," he says now. Like any ﬁckle teenager, Zayn "just did it for fun, to see what would happen."

The day that Zayn auditioned, he was among many aspiring solo artists rejected by the judges. But ﬁve of the young singers were cobbled together as a boy band in a later segment. Thus was born One Direction and a rabid fandom that British people love to compare to Beatlemania. A craze so ﬁerce and massive that it generated global synchronized ﬂash mobs and fan-ﬁction authors who've reportedly scored six-ﬁgure book deals. In an instant, Zayn was thrust into a star-making boot camp, fast-tracked to an uncontrollable type of notoriety without being given the opportunity to consider alternatives.

It's no secret that Zayn didn't love One Direction's sound or his bandmates. "My vision didn't necessarily always go with what was going on within the band," he says. There was something so earnest, so wholesomely dweeby, about the whole thing. It wasn't cool, and Zayn didn't particularly enjoy being dragged around the world to look like an epic dork during the prime of his youth.

When he split off, in 2015, Zayn ﬁnally got to do all the things he hadn't been able to in One Direction: dye his hair, grow his beard, sing about sex. But he was also introduced to a fresh army of puppeteers trying to guide him, and he felt disoriented, adrift. The only way to ground himself was to resist the pull of anyone's expectations and answer only to Zayn. He'd spent ﬁve years taking direction and had become allergic to it.

There are plenty of clichéd expressions about how toxic and stiﬂing freedom can be, and Zayn experienced many of them when he went solo. "I didn't really, like, make any friends from the band. I just didn't do it. It's not something that I'm afraid to say. I deﬁnitely have issues trusting people," he says. When he was living in Los Angeles, aimless, he fell in with a crowd of industry people: "Producers, musicians, tailors, stylists, managers. Them kind of things," he says. "It got too crazy. I just got too much into the party scene. Just going out all the time. And I was too distracted." So he left L.A. permanently and moved to New York earlier this year as a way to bring himself back down to earth.

Running a bit further, he recently bought a farm in rural Pennsylvania on the advice of Yolanda Hadid, who also has a farm there. The farm? "Cool." The state of Pennsylvania? "Cool." If you haven't picked up on it for yourself yet, Zayn loves the word "cool"; he loves it so much that he uses it more than 43 times over the course of our conversation. And now that Zayn likes to go to his farm and visit the Hadids, he and Gigi even have a horse together, named Cool. He's just getting things going on the farm, but already there are crops of cherries, tomatoes, and cucumbers. He likes to ride his ATVs. Sometimes he and Gigi will go at the same time, and she'll ride a horse, like Cool, while he watches.

Zayn has a habit of speaking in a conditioned state of detachment, responding in friendly but anodyne one-liners. Still, even someone who willfully projects this kind of cool two-dimensionalism can get irked from being flattened all the time by those around him. I catch myself flattening him, even when he's right in front of me. When I bring up the deceased Lil Peep, with whom he shared a manager, I say that it's a shame they never met—they seem like kindred spirits who could have made a great song together, or at least bonded over tattoos.

Zayn begins to laugh. "I'm not just going to be friends [with people] because we've both got tattoos. Loads of people come up to me and they're like, 'Yo, I got tattoos, you got tattoos. Let's be friends.' And I'm like… 'We're not just going to be friends because we've both got tattoos.'

"There's a bit more depth to me than that," he says, admonishing me.

One topic that will draw out this aforementioned depth is, unexpectedly, America. Despite the fact that he is living in a country under a leader that is exceptionally hostile to immigrants, the fantasy of America as a come-one, come-all melting pot is alive and well in Zayn's mind. He says he'd vote for Oprah if she ran for office because he likes her "ideologies about the world" and she's a "badass businesswoman."

"The UK is like, Fuck you, you're successful. That's not a nice attitude to have," he says. "You come to America, you're a bit shocked at first: Are these people being genuine? Are they really interested in me? Do they want to have a conversation? But they do! And that's a really nice thing. And I feel like it's misrepresented across the globe. For the kind of country it is, because everybody supports, no matter what color, what gender, what sexuality, what class—none of that matters here. People genuinely want to know you for who you are. And that's how America should be represented across the world."

Watch Now:Zayn Rocks Summer’s Best Swerves

Maybe you should run for office, I say.

"Maybe. It'd be cool. I feel like it's a beautiful place. [Because of the current political climate,] people are expressing how they really feel about where they come from and their heritage and their backgrounds. They're all mixed. To be American, you are mixed.

"So that's how I feel about it—it's a beautiful place, and it's a beautiful time to be alive."

Another unlikely topic that will break Zayn out of his default conversational mode and get him talking in jolting, paragraphs-long monologues: the paparazzi. The paparazzi who have been trailing him for years and, recently, every time he sets foot near Gigi's NoHo apartment, feeding the endless tabloid speculation about the state of their relationship. The paps used to piss Zayn off, until he realized their utility.

"That's my promo," he says. "I come outside, they take photos." He gets to quietly remind people that he exists—and gets photographed looking like the second coming of Johnny Depp, leaving the apartment of one of the most gorgeous women in the world—without doing a thing. "They stay outside and do all the work!" he says. "You can get pissed off about it and be like, 'Yo, this is a hindrance on my life.' Or you can use it for your own beneﬁt and be like, 'Well, if they're going to take the photos, then let them.' You've gotta earn your dollar, and I've gotta earn mine."

Which is to say that just because Zayn loathes the cornball industry churn doesn't mean he needs to surrender his relevance. Zayn represents an era in which underground cool and mass-market, Calabasian-style popularity have collapsed into one another. He operates on a plane where celebrity is predicated chieﬂy on relevance and intrigue, and Zayn—with his equally illustrious girlfriend, his brooding glare, and his following of millions—has about as much relevance and intrigue as anybody. He is both a casualty and a beneﬁciary of this uniquely modern form of celebrity. In running from his stardom, he's only fueling it.

I suppose now is the time to dispense with the rest of the intel I gleaned from Zayn about his relationship with Gigi Hadid, which was a less sensitive subject than I had anticipated. The two met at the end of 2015 at a party—which "pah-y," Zayn will not disclose, but suffice it to say it was a "cool pah-y"—and just days later, Zayn learned she'd broken up with Joe Jonas. He reached out to her and asked her to dinner at the Bowery Hotel. And thus was born a couple that will go down in history as one of the most iconic and Zeitgeisty pairings of all time, a couple whose images I will show my grandchildren to prove that the world was better in my day. All of the gossip about their relationship being an opportunistic setup by their respective management is bullshit, Zayn says: "If a relationship is for your career, you can fucking walk out the door. No way. See you later."

Despite the dramatic announcement of their split a couple of months ago, Zayn and Gigi are very much still close, as evidenced by myriad photos of him leaving her apartment or kissing her on the street. Zayn speaks about Gigi in a purely misty-eyed, worshipful tone that telegraphs he may be atoning for something. "I'm really thankful that I met her," he says. He uses the term "we" in the present tense quite a bit: "We go to the farm." "We have horses." The time he actually rode a horse with Gigi, he says, "I looked like a complete idiot and she looked like a complete professional.… We're still really good friends, and we're still in contact," he says. "No bad blood." He laughs. "…Taylor Swift.

"We're adults. We don't need to put a label on it, make it something for people's expectations." To hear Zayn tell it, Gigi is the hyper-organized, clear-headed, and positive counterweight to his disposition, which can dip into a vacant or negative state. She helped him reset his attitude when he was releasing his ﬁrst solo album, partying too hard. "I had a very negative outlook on things. That might have been adolescence or testosterone or whatever the fuck was running through my body at the time," he says. "She's helped me to look at things from a positive angle."

As Zayn heads into his new album cycle, Gigi has been a font of support and organizational heft. He says she's especially good with dates, which I mishear as "good with debts."

She's good with debts? You're in debt?

"No, no. Dates. She doesn't handle my ﬁnances yet," he says. "We'll get to that eventually."

When Zayn Malik went solo, he dropped his last name. The mononymic "Zayn" took on a potency and directness that enabled him to break free from the chains of boy-band drudgery and lameness. Zayn: It's a single syllable that conjures a vaporous sexuality and a moodiness that blurs the line between contemplative and blank. You can imagine the black-and-white commercial for L'Eau de Zayn.

In the years since he dropped his last name, the word "Zayn" has also become, to insiders, an equally potent verb. To "Zayn" means to be within someone's reach one moment and then completely disappear the next without any explanation. Poof! To be "Zayned" is to witness a French exit so aggressive that it almost has a supernatural quality. I know this because it happened to me.

We emerged from the ship's galley, and as I prepared to launch into more conversation, he asked Carolina where he could ﬁnd the toilets. She pointed him toward a porta-potty on dry land, and Taryn wordlessly followed behind him, obviously accustomed to this ritual. Before I could get my bearings, he was zipping off into the parking lot adjacent to the tanker, no doubt scurrying home to his fortress of solitude and cigarette smoke in SoHo. I'd been Zayned.

We were supposed to hang out the following week, and I patiently waited for him to reach out. But I knew that he never would. And much as I'd like to be the exception to the Laws of Zayn's Nature, I get it. Who among us has never fantasized about blowing off pesky professional obligations we deem useless? Zayn—driven by a spirit that is part self-destruction, part self-preservation, part youthful punk contrarianism—actually has the balls to live that fantasy. It's self-absorbed, immature, and unprofessional. I'd be offended if I didn't think it was so fucking cool.

Carrie Battan is a staff writer for 'The New Yorker' and a contributor to 'GQ'.

An abridged version of this story appeared in the July 2018 issue.

#zayn #gq #interview #magazine #print interview #love of my life

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dreamsinger-rose · 6 years

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Review - Trolls

First off, if you’d like to see other stuff I’ve written, on Fanfiction.net I am Dreamsinger. On Amazon, my usually-very-comprehensive reviews are under Gemseeker.

For my first post I thought I’d start with a review I wrote about a movie I fell in love with recently - Dreamworks’ Trolls. I posted a shorter version of this review on Amazon. I couldn’t post the whole thing - apparently it was too long! LOL. Feel free to make a comment - or multiple ones, seeing as how I go through quite a few different points that may be easier to discuss separately. I’m looking forward to hearing what you all have to say :)

Funny, clever and heartwarming. Characters you care about- one has PTSD. Catchy music, gorgeous colorful animation

This is a funny, funny movie. Make no doubt about that. But there are a lot of touching, subtle messages in this movie as well. Don't get me wrong, you can look at it two ways - on the surface it's a comical, musical adventure about a pair of not-quite-friends who team up to rescue a group of trolls kidnapped by a monster called a bergen who wants to eat them. Kind of generic, right?

But as a story writer with an interest in psychology, I see a lot more going on, if you only care to notice. Without going too much into spoiler territory, here's what stood out to me and made Trolls a beloved favorite of mine.

The troll world is fantastically unique, a place where the laws of science, particularly physics and biology, are very different from our world. For example, trolls use their hair for all sorts of things; it moves and stretches at will. There are certain trolls whose bodies produce cupcakes (that are apparently edible); others produce sparkly glitter that is used in various creative and/or defensive ways. Oddly enough, I don't find this offensive; what appear to be fart jokes aren't, not quite. Also, trolls' skin and hair colors can change rather dramatically. This fact becomes hugely significant later.

Troll culture has some rather unique points – clothing is apparently optional. The glitter-trolls don't wear clothes, but there are no embarrassing bits displayed, so I’m fine with that. There is a charming custom called Hug Time, where every hour, trolls are supposed to participate in group hugs. Trolls actively teach their children that everyone deserves to be happy - that it's important to care about others and live in harmony. They also have this tragic backstory that is not gone into much in the movie; namely, that older trolls must have had friends and loved ones eaten by the bergens in the past, which makes me wonder if they have something of the mentality of oppressed people, who feel a strong need to stick together.

The animation is absolutely gorgeous, with brilliant colors that appeal to the artist in me. But even more so, what struck me the first time I saw Trolls was that none of the characters -not one- fit what we think of as traditional beauty. There are no "beautiful people" here, just regular people who work and laugh and go on dates and -successfully- fall in love. That's a powerful message. Think about it.

What I love most about Trolls is how so many of the characters learn from each other and grow into better people. The troll princess, Poppy, is cheerful, fun-loving and well-meaning at the beginning, but when disaster strikes, she takes on the responsibility of rescuing her friends, despite knowing nothing about the world outside her village. I admire her leadership and positive thinking – she is a great role model for the other characters. Her funny, upbeat song "Get Back Up Again" is one I've used myself to get through tough times...

In conflicts with other characters that could easily have ended badly, Poppy demonstrates a lot of compassion and forgiveness, as well as the ability to just "roll with it". Those are valuable people skills, and really impressed me. She isn't perfect, though - she can be pushy, manipulative and irritating. Poppy is the personification of hope, which is all the more heartbreaking when she finally breaks down and ends up being the one who needs help herself. She also demonstrates resiliency, and is able to bounce back and make good decisions despite all that happens to her.

The character Bridget (her name means "strength", by the way) is a simple, caring bergen who could easily have been the star of a Cinderella-type story all by herself. A scullery maid hopelessly in love and despairing of ever having the courage to tell him, she begins to change when she meets the trolls. By the end of the film you feel so proud of her for stepping up and doing what she feels is the right, no matter what it costs her. From her, we learn self-confidence, self-sacrifice and courage. A truly admirable, and likable, character. Her voice actress' singing is phenomenal. She can do everything from tremulous love songs to disco funk.

My favorite character, hands down, is Branch. "I don't sing, and I don't relax. This is the way I am, and I like it!" He's easily the most complicated person I've seen in an animated film in a long, long time. While he is prone to outbursts of temper and paranoia that the other trolls find tiresome, (truly, he is hilarious in these scenes!) Branch is also very caring, more than he wants to admit, even to himself. As the only gray troll in the village, his color is more significant than we realize at first. He has a dark past that is hinted at almost from the start, and a lot of emotional issues (related to guilt, of all things), to overcome. I admit it; my heart goes out to him.

I love his character design. He wears a vest that reminds me of gingerbread house trim, all rows of overlapping half-circles or semi-arches, worn with a pair of endearingly clumsily-sewn shorts. One of the other characters even comments on his vest, which makes me wonder if it was a gift from someone special… Branch is also the first young character I've ever seen with crow's-feet, premature stress-induced wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, something that gives his face a remarkable amount of character.

Despite his problems, Branch is portrayed as a strong character, who is methodical, resourceful and intelligent, good at mechanical engineering, physically capable and agile. He demonstrates a certain wry sense of humor at times. He is all the more brave for facing his fears out of love for a certain someone. A small spoiler that I think most of us would guess anyway, seeing as how he is voiced by Justin Timberlake: Branch's song True Colors is one of the sweetest, most charming songs I've ever heard. (I bought the Trolls music right afterward.)

The voice talent, as I've said above, is excellent. Every song is sung with so many fine nuances (Poppy's voice trembles, Branch has the most delicate, sensitive tone I think I've ever heard). I like how Poppy's voice goes husky when she's feeling emotional. I love how Branch's voice cracks when he's nervous or upset. I find the fact that three of the other trolls have different accents from the rest fascinating, making me speculate on whether there is more than one troll village out there.

There are very few areas of which I'm critical; one being the use of a few religious terms like "Oh, my God" and "angel", but as they are used in a non-religious way I can accept that. There is no swearing and aside from the glitter/cupcake jokes, no actual toilet humor, which is often the reason I won't buy an otherwise decent movie.

One area that I wish had been explained, even briefly, is how bergens justified eating trolls, seeing as how they can talk with them. Did they think they were just some kind of silly animal that happened to be able to speak/sing? It makes it harder to sympathize with the bergens, even after we see how miserably depressed they all are.

"Happiness isn't something you put inside you; it's already there. Sometimes you just need someone to help you find it." -A quote from Poppy with massively significant undertones, so subtle I didn't see it until I'd seen the movie several times. Bergens have what they consider a good reason to eat trolls –they believe it makes a bergen "truly happy". Sounds kind of addictive, doesn't it? Is that reason all the current bergens believe themselves to be miserable (BTW, why do they have a roller rink/pizza parlor if they're so unhappy?), even those bergens who have never eaten a troll? Because most of them were addicted and even twenty years later still long for what they perceived as “true happiness”?

Don't forget to check out the bonus content. There's a series of clips called Troll To Troll, where Poppy and Branch engage in amusing dialog that helped me understand Branch's character better. While he's often described as a grumpy loner in other reviews, the Branch in the clips seemed to be more social and less angry, with his biggest emotional problems relating to anxiety, not hostility.

Final notes: There's a reference in one of the songs called "Sunshine Day" from the Brady Bunch.

Although Poppy is portrayed as the main character, Branch and Bridget are really the true protagonists. They grow and change more than anyone else.

Overall, I believe that Dreamworks did a fantastic job on Trolls. I feel that a lot of the people who worked on it have some background in psychology, (or suffer from anxiety or depression or know people who do) since many of their films have a strong emphasis on emotions, and Trolls is one of the best movies they have ever produced. (Thank you, Dreamworks!)

Be sure to check out the Trolls holiday special, and the cartoon series based on the movie, too. There’s also a two-minute short called Trolla-Palooza Tour, where we get to see Branch play the electric guitar.

There’s lots more I could go into, especially now that the TV series is out (still not sure if it counts as canon or not) so please comment/reblog, and thanks for reading this massive post ^_^

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spynotebook · 5 years

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Photo: Ron Galella, Ltd./WireImage

The first time Britney Jean Spears ever left America was to go to Stockholm in 1998. It was spring, and in less than a year, the fruits of ten days of labor there would be out in the universe. With it, the hardest-working, most successful teenage superstar of the 1990s would have a debut album. Prior to that, she was just a 15-year-old Mouseketeer — a former classmate of future ex-boyfriend Justin Timberlake, future ex-rival Christina Aguilera, and Ryan Gosling. On her first international voyage away from her small hometown Kentwood, Louisiana, she met a bunch of bearded Swedish producer-songwriter dudes (no disrespect to the now-monolithic Max Martin, and the sadly departed Denniz Pop), and together they made pop history and miscellany.

Perhaps that context is why …Baby One More Time (named, of course, after the Goliath breakthrough single) is the listen it is 20 years later. It wasn’t the reactive album conception we’re accustomed to now. It came before album rollouts were meticulously mood-boarded in the wake of one viral online hit, and plotted with the use of some neurotic, algorithm-assisted A&R development program. Spears’s debut was a bunch of songs she’d recorded before her opening statement changed the course of popular music.

That single — and title track — moved the earth with its first bars. Those first few seconds still sound like an intergalactic alarm clock rousing us from a faraway planet inhabited by horny robots. “DUR! DUR! DUR!” they warned. The Millennium Bug was coming to wipe us out and MTV was the most likely host for the final dance party. The single remains one of the signature pop songs of its ilk, borrowing from the school of Backstreet Boys and ’N Sync but with a new melodramatic, turgid molasses of beats and piano stabs that sounded as heavy as the distress their lovesick narrator suffered.

There is no second “… Baby One More Time” on the record. Her third single “(You Drive Me) Crazy (The Stop Remix)” was the closest contender, but still planets away from that entrance point. To listen to Spears’s debut front-to-back is to travel back to a distant past where the wool was willingly pulled over audience’s eyes and fans were satisfied with being hit over the head by a song without needing to know the who, where, and what from whence it came. This was before we gained a bird’s-eye real-time view of the warts-and-all process of cherry-picking backwoods talent on X Factor. It was before that accessibility worked the other way, and the likes of Lorde could launch a career online from the end of the Earth. Nobody in a pre-social-media era demanded logical intent from their overnight superstars. The aim was to use the vessel that was Spears and build a catalogue of danceable teen bops for her to perform in the malls where she made her first touring appearances. The LP’s clean fun also established a foundation from which she’s since built a career far longer than this album ever anticipated. The foundation is listenable and enjoyable, yet questionable, flawed, bizarre, and epically over the top.

Spears had a voice that was bigger than her life story so far. It was not the voice of an innocent small-town girl. “…Baby One More Time” could be sung by a 15-year-old or a 40-year-old. Spears’s voice was perhaps a problem. The Britney-isms were fine, great even: bay-buh versus bay-bee, and an inflection so nasal that one of her backing vocalists once told the press she pinched her nose while recording her takes for the album to match Spears’s. Those affectations lend her a sort of pop-star weirdness, but it’s the rich depth of her voice that creates an issue: It’s too serious for frivolities, like a ball gown she can’t fit into yet but has to wear anyway. In attempt to match it, her collaborators tried both adult contemporary and tween jingles on her in the hopes something would stick.

Take the reggae-inspired “Soda Pop,” a song riffing on the addictive nature of soda (“open the soda pop, bop-shee-bop-shee-bop”). You may ask again: What planet did this come from? The charming bamboozlement of “Soda Pop” notwithstanding, silliness is not Spears’s legacy. Pain, solitude, gut-wrenching rejection — this is where she lives. Not to shade her performance on “Soda Pop.” There is not another singer in the world who could run lines around the lyric “the pop keep flowin’ like it’s fire and ice,” and ready it for a highly anticipated debut album release. Artists like Billie Eilish are decidedly not recording a “Soda Pop” at the moment.

More confusing than “Soda Pop,” however, is her presentation. The consistent message of Spears’s story arc has been the innocent-until-proven-otherwise mantra. Her album’s material conflicted with her physical presentation. What she did with her body and what she said via her mouth were worlds apart. For example, contrast the album-cover art with her first Rolling Stone cover. The latter was shot by David LaChapelle, and featured Spears on her bed in lingerie, a Tinky Winky doll brushing her nipple. Oh to be a fly-on-the-wall during the decision-making process about which Teletubby was going to work best. Even after two albums, Spears remained on the fence with her third record, Britney, concluding at the age of 20 that she was “not a girl, not yet a woman.” But the seeds of the oversexed virgin enigma were born on …Baby One More Time with its advanced lyrical appeal to the perils of thwarted romance.

The schmaltzy “I Will Still Love You,” a homogenous duet with Don Philip about undying love so burdensome the tryst sounds like life imprisonment. Then there’s single “Born to Make You Happy,” which is emo-level tortured. “I don’t know how to live without your love,” she sings on the piano-driven hit. She was 16, channeling emotions that are on par with Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet (incidentally, nobody was pretending those guys were just holding hands). She plays the doting, subservient girlfriend, always on the other end of the phone, neither a threat to the school jock nor to his mom and dad. And yet she burns with the desire of a thousand Jackie Collins novels.

It made sense that this was Spears’s oeuvre. She would reveal on TV appearances that she was a student of Mariah Carey and Whitney Houston. She was eager to be considered a singer-songwriter. Before the train pulled out from the station, she was looking to position herself as a younger Sheryl Crow. After sexing up the Catholic-school-girl look, she was a lifetime away from Crow, but the songs were rooted in a similar world of romantic balladry; one in which love is as intoxicating as it is near fatal. There are hints at her own inspirations too. Natalie Imbruglia in “I Will Be There” — a guitar-based number, which has a post-chorus wailing guitar line that borrows heavily from “Torn.” Cher is referenced with a great cover of Sonny & Cher’s “The Beat Goes On,” which came before Cher resurrected her career with “Believe” and auto-tune.

The album is also a time capsule for the desperate, but still lucrative, state of MTV in the late ’90s, appeasing the erratic genre-bending of the network’s jukebox before it imploded. It features a ton of, at the time, commonplace production bells and whistles: the sci-fi whirring effects transitioning into verses (“Sometimes”), the copious cowbell (“(You Drive Me) Crazy”), the sprinkles-of-stardust keys (“Deep in My Heart”), the bouncing synths (title track). Stepping into the future was the song, “Email My Heart” — which Rolling Stone called “pure spam.” In an interview from 1999, Spears discusses its inception: “Everyone’s been doing emails, and it’s [called] ‘Email My Heart’, so… everyone can relate to that song!” Turns out Spears would have the last laugh considering the intimacy of our online discourse two decades later.

The critic Jon Caramanica wrote in the New York Times that Spears’s blueprint of pop is but one subsection of the genre now, which makes sense when you listen back. We live in an age where pop is supposedly controlled by us, not them. This album does not sound like supply meeting demand. Nobody would have streamed most of …Baby One More Time if it came out now. It’s a mess. And yet it’s her biggest seller to date. Producing five hit singles, it made her the Antichrist among critics and purveyors of “real” music. In its review of the album, NME wrote: “Hopefully, if she starts to live the wretched life that we all eventually do, her voice will show the scars, she’ll stop looking so fucking smug, she’ll find solace in drugs and we’ll be all the more happier for it.” It was a different time.

#IFTTT #Feedly

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pristine-starlight · 7 years

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3, 5, 6, 9, 11, 13, 15, 23, 29, and 30 for the music asks!!

Took me long enough but I’m finally answering these!!

Be warned tho that I just can’t keep my mouth shut when I get to share music so I answered with more than one song in most cases (sorry)

3: A song that reminds you of summertime

The entire Lemonade Mouth soundtrack tbh

This Is My Paradise by Bridgit Mendler (it’s old but i still love it??)

Once Upon A Time by Jordan Maron (it’s good for when the weather is all gloomy but you really don’t want it to be bc it has a summer-y feel to it and makes everything seem nicer)

Girls Like Girls by Hayley Kiyoko (it used to be my jam the summer it came out)

5: A song that needs to be played LOUD

THERE’S SO MANY OF THOSE HOLY SHIT??

Where We Belong by Thriving Ivory

Flight Of The Silverbird by Two Steps From Hell

Castle On The Hill by Ed Sheeran (it just needs to be louder and louder the closer it gets to the end okay it just needs to)

The Plagues from the Prince of Egypt soundtrack

honestly there’s just?? so many?? i love listening to so many songs really loud bc it just feels the best that way says the person with permanent ringing in their ears

6: A song that makes you want to dance

Can’t Stop The Feeling by Justin Timberlake (generally good song but it also has a story to it for me that includes teachers dancing and dabbing but that’s a long one to explain)

All About Us by He Is We ft Owl City

and tbh anything with a) a really good rhythm or b) a waltz-y melody

i’m the way with dancing as i am with cooking: i really love doing it but that doesn’t change the fact that i’m shit at it

9: A song that makes you happy

Somebody from Lemonade Mouth

You’re Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile by Sia

Love’s Just A Feeling by Lindsey Stirling (I listened to this one a lot when I was in Geneva, it brings back good memories)

Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift (this one also has a story)

One Last Time from the Uncharted 4 soundtrack (it gives me a lot of feelings but i guess they’re mostly happy feelings?? but obvi if you don’t know the scene where it plays in the game then i don’t think it’s gonna give you any feelings)

tbh there’s so many more and half of them aren’t even happy songs i just connect them to people or things that make me happy??

11: A song that you never get tired of

Charlie Brown by Coldplay

Control by Halsey

The Phoenix by Lindsey Stirling

i usually listen to songs way too much until i get bored of them and drop them for a while, but there’s always some exceptions

13: One of your favorite 80s songs

this is a very elaborate thing of bullshit bc certain meme-y songs are from the 80s i love it

Azok A Boldog Szép Napok by Beatrice (aay something Hungarian!)

A bunch of stuff from Peter Gabriel (let’s just say the whole “So” album + Biko)(I’m probably biased bc i saw him perform all of those live a few years ago okay i’ll never forget that)

Another Day In Paradise by Phil Collins

I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston (that’s typically the kinda song that comes on the car radio and you have to turn the volume up there’s no other way)

15: A song that is a cover by another artist

Emperor’s New Clothes cover from NateWantsToBattle!! (fun fact I don’t like p!atd at all buuut i fell in love with this cover)

also!! Wherever I Go from Chris Brenner! another instance of “didn’t even know the original, accidentally found the cover, loved it much more than the original after listening to that one too”

23: A song that you think everybody should listen to

idk man i don’t like saying that bc everyone has their own music taste and i don’t know any “godly” music?? but here

anything from the Brother Bear soundtrack bc it’s one of the best i’ve ever heard and honestly if you haven’t watched that movie yet please do??

Colours by Phil Collins (i’ve loved this song since i was like what?? 11? plus the lyrics are a++)

This Song Saved My Life by Simple Plan (bc it’s a good song that’s it)

29: A song that you remember from your childhood

there’s so many!! but okay specific ones here we go (no hungarian ones tho bc who cares about those plus there’s just so many)

Moonlight Shadow by Mike Oldfield (also “On Horseback” is one we listen to every christmas while decorating the tree it’s just a thing)

I Want To Break Free by Queen

Money, Money, Money by ABBA

30: A song that reminds you of yourself

uhh man you’re expecting too much of me i don’t know myself??

Control by Halsey (when i’m feeling all edgy and spiteful which tbh happens more often than you’d expect)

and??? i really just don’t have any other ones or good ones or positive ones i’m sorry

tbh i have a lot of songs i connect to other people/places/memories/etc but myself? naah

pls if by some miracle anyone has any song that reminds you of me pls tell me

#phew that was a LOT #ask #sunkistjello

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roxy-davenport · 7 years

Text

Leather and Domination

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Word Count: 5,238

My awesome beta: @raspberrymama

A/N: This was written for @chelsea-winchester Courtney’s 200 Challenge “Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones. Super late for that challenge. Sorry hun. This was also written for Becka @beckawinchester & Johanna’s @boredoutofmymindwriting 500 Follower milestone challenge with the prompt, “SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake and @fiveleaf 100 Follower Challenge with the prompts, Crowley, Hell and Devil’s Trap. The reader roleplays as Crowley’s dominatrix in a demonic sex club. LOTS of kinky SMUT ahead. This is part 2 of the Hot Times In Hell series. You do not need to read Part 1 to understand Part 2. Each story is its own self-contained smutty story. I actually spent a day and a half researching for this chapter. LOL. Enjoy. :) Smut aesthetics under the cut.

The Hot Times In Hell Series

Part 1: The One With the Princess Leia Fantasy

Part 3: In the Name of the Father

(each chapter is a self-contained story)

Also on AO3

Please allow me to introduce myself

I'm a man of wealth and taste

I've been around for a long, long year

Stole many a man's soul to waste

And I was 'round when Jesus Christ

Had his moment of doubt and pain

Made damn sure that Pilate

Washed his hands and sealed his fate

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guess my name

But what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game

Crowley snapped his fingers appearing outside the decadent club he created. Various demons under his employ were waiting patiently outside the velvet ropes anxious to join the demonic elite inside. The security guards stood by the door, a rather imposing force diligently checking names off a list.

Judging by the shouts and calls from Crowley’s demonic employees, they thought the ring on his finger was just for show; which it wasn’t, you two were indeed married, and happily so at that.

Crowley hardly ever frequented the clubs he owned. Preferring to delegate managing to someone else. But tonight he wasn’t here on business, he was here for pleasure: yours and his.

I stuck around St. Petersburg

When I saw it was a time for a change

Killed the czar and his ministers

Anastasia screamed in vain

I rode a tank

Held a general's rank

When the blitzkrieg raged

And the bodies stank

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guess my name, oh yeah

Ah, what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game, oh yeah

(Woo woo, woo woo)

Crowley walked confidently up to the gilded doors, nodding to the security guards. Adjusting his suit, he walked over the threshold. He was immediately met with loud music, happy giggles and a red and black strobe light. It was just as he remembered it.

I watched with glee

While your kings and queens

Fought for ten decades

For the gods they made

(Woo woo, woo woo)

I shouted out,

Who killed the Kennedys?

When after all

It was you and me

(Who who, who who)

Crowley was excited about acting out this fantasy. He was in charge every day, every hour, even when he delegated so many duties to other demons. His work and leadership never ended. Sometimes he’d even have to schedule you in, just to have sex with you.

Crowley’s work extended to you. Though he never saw you as work, of course. It was an added responsibility that he had every day, nonetheless. Work a full-day in Hell and come home and be your Dom and attend to both of your needs. He was a careful Dom and very protective and loving with you but he needed a break sometimes. He yearned for a release where he didn’t have to think and control, he could just give over power safely to someone he trusted and loved. Someone who could dominate him in the right way.

He was centuries old and had tried this countless times before but everyone else got it wrong. It wasn’t about pain or torture. He was no slouch when it came to pain but there had to other things there too. It was about gentle seduction, about the gentle pull from a seemingly submissive woman now a Domme to her King. He was both excited and nervous about the prospect. It was a great change of pace from where he just came from, a dull meeting in Hell with two demons constantly badgering him about something. He definitely needed a release.

Let me please introduce myself

I'm a man of wealth and taste

And I laid traps for troubadours

Who get killed before they reached Bombay

(Woo woo, who who)

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah

(Who who)

But what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby

(Who who, who who)

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah

But what's confusing you

Is just the nature of my game

(Woo woo, who who)

Crowley walked down the hallway, hands in his pockets as he glanced curiously at the scene around him. Over to his left there were some hapless souls in cages dancing to please the manager of this establishment. Over to the right, female demons offered monsters; vampires and demons mostly but some werewolves as well, some beverages. He nodded to various employees not remembering their names or caring much about them, just that they did their job well and their clients were happy.

Just as every cop is a criminal

And all the sinners saints

As heads is tails

Just call me Lucifer

'Cause I'm in need of some restraint

(Who who, who who)

So if you meet me

Have some courtesy

Have some sympathy, and some taste

(Woo woo)

Use all your well-learned politesse

Or I'll lay your soul to waste, mm yeah

(Woo woo, woo woo)

He walked over to the bar and everyone parted for him. He stopped abruptly when he realized that “Sympathy for the Devil” was playing, how apt really. He smirked as he focused on the song for a bit.

Pleased to meet you

Hope you guessed my name, mm yeah

(Who who)

But what's puzzling you

Is the nature of my game, mm mean it, get down

(Woo woo, woo woo)

Woo, who

Oh yeah, get on down

Oh yeah

Oh yeah!

(Woo woo)

The bartender bows in front of him, standing a respectable distance from him, waiting for his order. Crowley smirked and opened his mouth when a demon to his left snapped her fingers, making Craig appear before him. Crowley stared down at the drink unimpressed. Crowley slowly turned his head, both curious and angry. Warring emotions ever present on his face. The female demon looked down at the ground gulping.

Tell me baby, what's my name

Tell me honey, can ya guess my name

Tell me baby, what's my name

I tell you one time, you're to blame

“Forgive me for my boldness sir, but the King shouldn’t be drinking by himself.”

Both you and Crowley were jealous to no ends. He had killed several demons just for looking at you much less touching you. You could feel the anger flowing off you in waves. You pressed your hands into fists and started to slide off the bar stool when Crowley subtly stopped you. You hadn’t entered the scene yet so you weren't his Mistress just yet. You glared at him, which he saw from the corner of his eye. Turning slowly to the female demon his voice was gruff and held no room for argument. He gripped the glass so tightly; he thought it would shatter in his hands.

“I appreciate the gesture, really I do,” the sarcasm ever present in his tone. “But you see, I am married,” he held up his hand showing off his wedding band to the woman. “She is my Queen, the Queen of Hell and she WILL NOT be scorned or trifled with by the likes of you. I am NOT the type to cheat on her. I feel myself quite lucky to have her by my side.” He takes a deep breath and tries to take the intensity out of his voice. “Now, I know you’re a newly turned demon, but you’d do well to remember I already have a Queen. Go spread the word, dear.”

The demon swallowed and took in a nervous breath. She kept her eyes downcast the entire time Crowley was speaking but the moment he finished, she looked up nervously and her lips trembled. Crowley’s eyes flashed red to signify he meant business and to leave now. The demon disappeared a second later.

Oh, who

Woo, woo

Woo, who

Woo, woo

Woo, who, who [x2]

Oh, yeah

What's my name

Tell me, baby, what's my name

Tell me, sweetie, what's my name

Woo, who, who [x6]

Oh, yeah

Woo woo [x2]

You smirked and focused your gaze on Crowley; he turned back around to you, holding it. Your gaze slowly ran down his frame. Gracefully reaching out to the edge of the bar, you slid down the bar stool elegantly. You swayed your hips as you walked confidently over to him. You put your back to the bar with your chest to his face. You were very close to him now; close enough to feel his warm breath on your skin.

You waved off the bartender who was intrigued by the chemistry between you two. You slowly moved even closer to him. You fingertips grazed under his chin lifting it up to meet your curious gaze.

“Are you ready to take orders from your Queen?”

Crowley was warring with himself. He desperately wanted to say yes but it was difficult for him to just relinquish power like that at the snap of his fingers. You took out a long breath as your tongue dove out of your mouth licking your crimson tinted lips.

“Hmmm. It must be hard for the King of Hell to submit to anyone, but I assure you, we’ll get there,” you stated confidently.

You stepped in between his legs and ran your hands up his chest as you slowly slide his tie from his collar. You smirked up at him as you felt the silky material slide between your fingers. Continuing to slyly smile at him, you yanked the rest of it off and bunched it into your palm. You would have liked to put a collar on him now, but there were rules. He was worried about how his demons would react to their King in chains from you, a human. He would look weak and that would put you both in danger. But how to get him to leave, was the question. You leaned over, your breasts on full display for him. You whispered in his ear holding onto his collar.

“Be a good boy for your Mistress.”

His gaze held dominance to it, but you could see it wavering. You bite your lips and looked at him with a hungry gaze. You kicked the stool out from under him and he quickly stood. He quirked his eyebrow, smoothed over his suit and looked down at you. You held your hand out to follow you and he nodded, leaving a good tip for the bartender. His gait was confident as he walked behind you. Your heels clacked on the wooden floorboards, while his shoes made a booming sound behind you. You were both walking to the backstage area.

Nodding to the security guards, you and Crowley slipped past the heavy velvet curtain into another hallway, showered in red lights. You walked through the hallway, the red lighting painted your hair in a macabre glow. You turned your face towards him, throwing Crowley a truly disturbing gaze with the red light. A gaze that made him instantly hard. He could take orders from you with that gaze. Your hips swayed as you glided to the door at the end of the hall.

You opened it and turned on the light. The light provided from the black chandelier just barely lit the room. You yanked on Crowley’s shirt collar, pushed him through the door and back onto the sofa, and quickly locked the door behind you.

With your head up and your hands on your hips, you walked straight over to the candles. You slowly took a match out of the matchbox and lit the candles one by one, your movements slow and calculated. You could feel Crowley’s eyes following you around the room. You turned around to him slowly blowing out the match. Let the games begin.

You let your trench coat fall in a puddle by your knees. You lifted one leg slowly out and then the other. You kicked the coat to your left, giving Crowley a nice view of your stocking covered long legs. You stood before him, feeling powerful. Your breasts were spilling out of your black lace and leather corset. Your hair done up in waves in an old Hollywood style. Your eye makeup was very loud and ostentatiously black, making your eyes seem darker and more commanding than before. Your lips a deep shade of red that contrasted with your completely black outfit. You had on a garter belt and silk stockings paired with your favorite black pumps. You smirked down at him when you saw his eyes shine red.

“Up. NOW slave,” your gaze dark and your tone forceful.

Crowley obliged. You slowly run your fingers against Crowley’s clothes. You looked up at him, tilting your head trying to read him as you slowly took off his jacket and then his shirt. You left him to place his clothes in a neat pile, your hip swaying. You made sure to bend over while doing it so your ass was on full display for him. You returned to take off the bottom half of his clothes. You caressed his cheek with one finger pushing his chin up to meet your gaze.

I'm bringin' sexy back (yeah)

Them other boys don't know how to act (yeah)

I think it's special, what's behind your back (yeah)

So turn around and I'll pick up the slack (yeah)

Dirty babe

You see these shackles, baby

I'm your slave

I'll let you whip me if I misbehave

It's just that no one makes me feel this way

“Welcome to Lady Y/N’s domain. I will take care of you, Pet, and you will learn how amazing it is to let go. You are safe here and loved, but you are not the King, here you are mine, Pet, to be used as I see fit.”

You could see Crowley struggling to let go. You placed a finger against his lips.”

“Shh. Go along with the illusion dear or it won’t work.”

Crowley smirked and nodded his head.

“Yes Mistress.”

“Good boy.” You pet Crowley’s head, massaging his scalp a bit. You noticed the way his eyes closed as you caressed him. Your hands left his head abruptly, falling down to his belt. You kept eye contact with him as you slid his belt through his pants. Without any further ado, you slid down his pants and boxers in one fell swoop, surprising him. You kept yanking until Crowley stepped out of them. You left to place them in a pile as well. Crowley was never one for patience so this was unbelievably difficult for him.

You smirked down at his cock, already hard and pointing at you. You pushed him backwards until he was in the center of the room. You slowly walked around him appraising his body, the body that was now yours. He tried to look at you as you walked around him but you grabbed his head and placed it forward.

“You’re mine now. Your mistress is evaluating your body, my body. You keep your head straight and look forward.”

You heard him grumble and you immediately spanked one of his cheeks. He yelped in surprise. You tilted your head in his direction and he nodded and looked down. You stood behind him just because you knew how frustrating it was for him to not see your body. You saw him looking ahead, following orders.

“Are you ready to submit to your Mistress fully?”

You held up the Devil’s trap handcuffs. He eyed the handcuffs and then smirked back at you. You sternly glared back at him.

“Do your worst, Mistress.”

Come here, girl (go 'head, be gone with it)

Come to the back (go 'head, be gone with it)

Vip (go 'head, be gone with it)

Drinks on me (go 'head, be gone with it)

You see what you're twerking with (go 'head, be gone with it)

Look at those hips (go 'head, be gone with it)

You make me smile (go 'head, be gone with it)

Go 'head, child (go 'head, be gone with it)

And get your sexy on (go 'head, be gone with it)

Get your sexy on (go 'head, be gone with it)

Get your sexy on

You leaned forward grabbed his arm and carefully closed the devil’s trap handcuffs around it before moving to the other wrist. You stepped back looking at a naked, horny Crowley who was completely at your mercy.

“What color?”

“Green.”

“Good boy.”

You stepped into the shadows that painted the room, making Crowley have to strain to see you, which was the point. You stepped purposely to the candles on your left, taking one and slowly walking over to Crowley with it. You tilted you head looking at his gaze and the slightly hairy body that was all yours. Carefully, you walked closer to Crowley, his eyes now glowing from the candle. Your gaze slowly dragged up his body to rest on his eyes. You quirked your eyebrow staring at him, he subtly nodded. You slowly poured the wax down his chest, careful to avoid the hairy patch. He grunted and then let out a long sigh. You quickly massaged the wax into his chest, making small circles into his skin.

You took your finger and brought it to your mouth. Your tongue dove out as you slowly licked some of the wax present on it. You then bent over, your hands in his hair yanking it just so as you licked his nipple and a small patch of wax. You didn’t miss how his head went back when your mouth met his skin. You kept eye contact with him and poured a little more onto his chest.

His eyes turned an intense red. You reached up and dragged the chains that went from his handcuffs to the ceiling. You dragged them down so Crowley was slightly lower than eye-level with you. You stared at him, he stared back. He was used to you being the sweet submissive girl he loved. He had no idea that you could enter this role so well.

Your hands reached around his body spanking both cheeks simultaneously. He quickly withdrew his red eyes and looked down at the ground.

“That’s my good, submissive boy.”

Crowley growled quietly.

Uh, yeah, I'm bringin' sexy back (yeah)

You mother fuckers watch how I attack (yeah)

If that's your girl, better watch your back (yeah)

'Cause you're burning up for me, and that's a fact (yeah, take it to the chorus)

You walked loudly and glared back at him, shaking your head slowly. You walked behind him, again spanking him. Your fingers touched every inch of skin on his chest, shoulders and neck as if you were committing it to memory. You then grabbed his hair and pushed his neck away kissing and sucking on his skin, until a dark hickey formed.

“You’re mine, Pet. Your mistress owns you, but don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. Color?”

“Green.”

“Very good, Pet,” you winked at him. Your heels clanking against the floor as you reached for your cat o’ nine tails whip. You dragged it across your palms and then the front of Crowley’s body to make sure he knew what was coming next.

Whispering in his ear, you asked him a simple question. “You know that some men like legs. Some men like breasts. Some like long hair. Know what I like?”

“No.”

“You stopped dead in your tracks. You reach, grabbing Crowley’s hair and twisting it.”

“No what?”

“No, Mistress. ”

“Very good. Remember that. As I was saying, what I like are men’s butts. You know what I like to do with these gorgeous butts? I like to squeeze them, pinch them, caresses them.” As you said each word, you did it, squeezing, pinching and caressing his ass. And man, did Crowley have a nice ass.

“Know what else I like? I like to rub my bare breasts down your back and over your bare ass. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

You pressed your breasts into his back, slowly sliding them down his body until they reached his ass. Then you grabbed your breasts and fondled them against his ass.”

“Does that feel good, Pet?”

“Amazing, Mistress, but I want to touch you.”

“Shh. You have to earn that by being a good boy.”

“Now, you know what I like the best, Crowley? I like this,” you spanked him once on each cheek.

“I’ve heard you’re fearless. That nothing scares you. You are the king, after all.” You walk over to retrieve his tie, “I’m covering your eyes so you can concentrate on what you’re feeling.”

You knead each ass cheek before spanking them both twice.

“You like that? Being punished by a woman?”

Spank.

“I give you permission to like it.”

Spank.

You took a feather and slowly dragged it along his body alternating between feather light touches and prolonged strokes. You keep it up until you feel the tension leave his body and goose bumps form on his skin. You then grabbed the whip and spanked his ass again twice on each cheek.

“You like it?”

No response.

“I’ll stop.”

“No, please don’t.”

“Say you like it or I’ll stop.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? You’re ashamed?” You paused dropping your voice an octave. “Finding pleasure in your Mistress isn’t shameful. It’s OK. You’re allowed to like it and still be the King. Let go and let yourself enjoy it. Stop fighting for dominance. You must be so tired of being dominant. Of controlling all those demons. Let it go. Let the tension fall.”

Come here, girl (go 'head, be gone with it)

Come to the back (go 'head, be gone with it)

Vip (go 'head, be gone with it)

Drinks on me (go 'head, be gone with it)

You see what you're twerking with (go 'head, be gone with it)

Look at those hips (go 'head, be gone with it)

You make me smile (go 'head, be gone with it)

Go 'head, child (go 'head, be gone with it)

And get your sexy on (go 'head, be gone with it)

Get your sexy on (go 'head, be gone with it)

Get your sexy on

You spanked his ass once more on each cheek before you walked around to look into his eyes. You slowly took off the blindfold noticing only hunger was there and not the usual defiance.

You slowly uncuffed him, not missing the surprise in his gaze and grabbed a collar, his collar. The very collar he picked out for himself a week before this. You had joked at the time that you both had collars now. You had gorgeous black lace over yours while his was simple distressed black leather. He sucked in a breath as you held it up to him.

You placed the collar around his neck and attached a leash to it. You yanked down the leash and Crowley moved with it to the ground. You carefully placed your heel on his back, shoving him further down on the ground. Smirking, you slowly walk back and lower yourself on the throne that’s in the corner of the room. You place your hands on either side of the throne and lean forward, leash in your hands. You ran a finger down your throat to your chest.

“On your heels, Crowley.”

He obeyed immediately, staring up at you for further instructions. You sat there for a moment, just basking in the fact that you made Crowley go into subspace.

Continuing to smirk, you held your finger out, bending it in a come hither motion. He crawled over to you, his arms on either side of the chair. You looked down at him sternly and tilted your head in disapproval. He withdrew his hands placing them down on the ground.

“Good doggie.”

You pulled the chain and his head yanked up.

“Take off my clothes slowly, now.”

Crowley nodded.

You slowly stepped up from the chair. You yanked the chain, pulling Crowley to you. He slowly stood before you. Carefully, almost reverently, he peeled off your clothes staring hungrily at your chest. His hands shook with need as he slowly undid the ties in the back of your corset. You held out your leg on his shoulder.

“Take off the rest too.”

He slowly slid off your shoes and your stockings. His hands hovered over your panties. You nodded at him and he slowly dragged them down your legs, taking a sharp breath in.

“Kiss and massage my legs, feet, and thighs, but not my pussy. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Crowley starts with your toes, sucking each of them before kissing every inch of your body from your feet up to your waist. He pays special attention to your thighs, hungrily kissing the flesh there. You can see how much he desires you for each action.

His face hovered over your pussy.

“Please, Mistress. Please.”

You slowly placed a finger inside your pussy. Crowley’s hungry eyes followed it. You curled it, arching your back and moaning. You slowly pulled it out, showing him how wet you already were. It glistened in the dim light.

“Taste my finger.”

Crowley’s tongue dove out of his mouth, greedily lapping up your slick.

“Good boy.”

“Please, Mistress.”

You looked down at him nodding.

“Make you Mistress come quickly. I want to feel your cock inside me. You will get spanked if you keep me waiting.”

You leaned forward on the throne as Crowley crawled closer to your. His lips wrapped tentatively around your clit.

“Faster, pet.”

Crowley kept his tongue soft and flat licking up and down. He moved his tongue over to your clit and pressed on it before sucking it. Your head fell back on your throne. Crowley moved his tongue in different angles, changing his pace from slow to fast, intense to gentle. He watched your eyes flutter closed. You moaned loudly.

He lapped at your clit while his fingers dove into your pussy arching to meet your G-spot. You were already so wet he could slip three fingers in.

You pushed against his flat, still tongue about to command him to continue when he sprung back with a series of fast and vertical diagonal tongue strokes. He licked you senseless with a short burst of energy and the returned to soft slow strokes.

His fingers worked relentlessly inside you, in a sharp contrast to how slowly he was licking you. You could already feel your orgasm fast approaching. His flat tongue pressed down on your clit and he shook his head.

He lifted his eyes to watch you lost in pleasure. His fingers dove into your pussy faster and faster. He sucked your clit into his lips. You were getting closer and closer when he suddenly lapped at your clit, his fingers reaching even deeper inside you, faster still. You came suddenly and sharply crying out his name along with, “good boy.” Crowley worked you through your orgasm and then stepped back on his heels, awaiting your next command.

You laid there wrecked, chest heaving, breathing ragged. You looked down at him with lustful eyes. You yanked his chain back, forcing him down on the crimson carpet. You were on him in a flash. You legs on either side of his strong thighs. Your hips on his hips holding him still.

“Color, “ you whispered in between ragged breaths.

“Green,” he smirked back.”

You sunk down on his cock moaning at the feel of him filling you so completely.

“No touching your Mistress. Understood?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

‘“What a good boy.”

You hands pressed down on his chest as your back arched. You moved your hips in a steady circular motion. You moved back and forth until your clit pressed against his public bone. You moaned out his name.

You moved your hands down on his thighs bouncing up and down. You watched his cock enter and leave your body. Biting your lip before you threw your head back. You moved forward, your head on his chest, he desperately wanted to touch you but you didn’t tell him he could, so he just lay there taking what you gave him.

You kissed his neck as you moved your hips back and forth. You let out a continuous string of moans. Crowley in turn was desperately fighting against his nature and the need to flip you over and plow you into the carpet. He growled softly, clenching his fists. You hit him on the chest, growling back. He moaned back at you. You grabbed his head and held him there in place. He watched you arch your back, breasts on full display. You ground against his hips faster and faster until with your other hand, you rubbed circles on your clit, coming in a matter of seconds. You came with another scream of his name.

When you came, you got off of Crowley’s waist. He looked at you both surprised and angry. You shook your head and grabbed his cock, rubbing him up and down fast.

“I said you would come. I never said where. Cum on my breasts now.”

You kept pumping his cock until warm spurts of cum shot over your bare breasts. You kept going until you were sure he didn’t have any cum left. You massaged it into your breast before you placed your finger on your nipple and slowly licked the cum off it.

“You were mostly a good boy but it was hard for you to give over control. Maybe next time, I’ll let you come inside me.” You said with a wink.

Crowley snapped his fingers and you found yourself on his bed in Hell lying against satin sheets.

“I had no idea you were that amazing as a dominatrix. We should have done this ages ago.”

Crowley pulled you into his arms. You drew small circles into his chest.

“So you enjoyed yourself?”

“Yes, immensely. It was nice to forgo control. Although the end….”

“I had to punish my somewhat of a bad boy. You had problems letting go.”

“I know. I‘m sorry, Pet. It wasn't you. It was me. It's hard for me to forgo power, even when I trust and love you. It’s an issue I have to work on. You handled it beautifully.”

“Was me calling you doggie…was that too much?”

“I‘ve been called a lot worse over the years.”

Crowley continued, “you were brilliant, really. Seductive, in control, confident, alluring. I could come just from imagining you.”

“Good boy, “ you said teasingly.

Crowley chuckled. He bent down and kissed your head.

“I love you, Crowley.”

“And I love you too, my precious little tiger. Now get some rest. After all the fun we had, I would imagine a human would be quite exhausted. I’ll watch over you.”

And that’s just what you did, as you nuzzled into Crowley’s neck, dreaming of all the fantasies that were yet to come.

Tagging

Forevers: @atc74 , @purgatoan @killerofthesouth , @charliebradbury1104 , @chaos-and-the-calm67 , @chelsea072498 , @everyday-supernatural-af , @kalliravenne @toogardenenthusiast , @winchesterprincessbride , @one-shots-supernatural , @take-me-tonirvana , @hellsmother , @ellen-reincarnated1967 @, @faegal04 @deals-with-demons , @mamaredd123 , @hamartiamacguffin, @donnaintx

Crowley Folks: @jesspfly, @raspberrymama, @earinafae. @singingflames. @wayward-mirage, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @vintagevalentinexx, @mysupernaturalfics, @itsemmyb, @crzcorgi, @thebunkerismyhome, @feelmyroarrrr, @not-so-natural-spn, @skybinx-blog, @notnaturalanahi, @babypieandwhiskey, @whispersandwhiskerburn, @impala-dreamer, @memariana91, @winchester-writes , @maraisabellegrey, @supermoonpanda, @sis-tafics, @deerlululucy, @manawhaat, @growleytria, @thegleegeneration, @samtomydeanwinchester, @i-never-said-a-pilot, @for-the-love-of-dean, @gadreelsforbiddenfruit, @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave, @klaineaholic, @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname, @wi-deangirl77, @manawhaat, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @fandommaniacx, @mysaintsasinner, @jencharlan, @curliesallovertheplace, @chrisatplay, @lilyoflothlorien, @ferferelli, @winchesters-princess, @beachy2014, @jotink78, @katnharper, @impossible-box, @deansleather, @sunriserose1023, @jelly-beans-and-gstrings, @luciisthebest, @winchesters-princess, @tia58, @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @wi-deangirl77, @beachy2014, @winchestersmolder, @beckawinchester, @imaginecrowleyspn, @nothin-after-79, @ravenangel33, @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @raimie77, @bkwrm523, @trenchcoats-and-bees, @luciisthebest

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Let's declare some winners. Photo-Illustration: Vulture, Maschine Masters / YouTube and Crooklyn Reactions / YouTube In just one month, Swizz Beatz and Timbaland’s Verzuz The Beat Battle series has gone from a new event that connects the past and present of hip-hop to an exhilarating excitement in our inner spring, joining DJ sessions from D-Nice, Questlove and others, as well as the unpredictable Ontario artist Tory Lanez. Quarantine radio like remote viewing but essential live for rap and R&B fans while live shows and festivals are shelved by COVID-19. Verzuz reinvents the DJ battles of the beginnings of hip-hop for the set "one gotta go". The premise is simple: two eminent producers (or singers or songwriters) join live on Instagram and compete to decide who has the best catalog. The rules met on the fly by trial and error. As it stands, each battle is fought over 20 rounds, each competitor making a move and hearing a rebuttal. Verzuz is fun, simple and wide open - maybe a little too wide open. The public is mainly in charge of the rating, and there is rarely a consensus on the points. Regional biases and generational schisms are increasing. Playing a deep cut makes you lose the point almost flatly, even if it's one of the greatest songs of all time. There's nothing wrong with a slugfest, but it's exhausting to hear people throw out timeless classics. You can be a legend with decades of success and lose the crowd too far from the radio. You can be a veteran who changed the game forever and get smoked in the public eye because someone else's music is fresher in everyone's shared memory. You can score points with records made primarily by someone else. If you have cultivated a relationship with a leading artist, you are almost guaranteed to win. Despite these minor problems, Verzuz makes dull weekends more enjoyable and gives the game a spirit of friendly competition. It also teaches fans how many heads it takes to make a record. You could hear the same song in three different battles: once from a producer, again from a co-producer, then again from a songwriter who helped refine the melodies or flesh out the lyrics. That said, the repetition of the hits also highlights the need for more variety in the casting of candidates, a concern that Swizz and Timbaland seem to address in programming in the future, as the boom bap giants RZA and DJ Premier recently teamed up for one for ages and revenge between the 80s and 90s. R&B veterans Teddy Riley and Babyface are in the works after a failed first try. Verzuz needs talent from different regions and times, and desperately needs women. Until we know what will happen next, let's review what we have seen so far, ranked from best to worst to absolutely doomed. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcM3MKN92O0[/embed] -> What is the summary? When Babyface first postponed its battle with Teddy Riley this month (while R&B born Kenneth Edmonds took the time to recover after being tested positive for coronavirus) asked who would fill these shoes on Easter weekend. Wu-Tang RZA's brain and Gang Starr's DJ Premier intensified. The native of New York built his legend on grainy tones and samples of funk and kung fu, shoveling a pile of metro soil on the threshold of traditional hip-hop in the early 90s with classics like Enter the 36 rooms, Liquid swords, and Only built 4 Cuban Linx. Premier, a renowned New York hip-hop venue via Houston and Boston, is a platinum assistant capable of creating new melodic lines from pre-existing records. While RZA made a splash on Staten Island, Preemo made magic with Nas, Biggie, Jay-Z, Mobb Deep and more. Their competition was a clash of rap titans that will go down in history. The duo played cat and mouse through 20 legendary street rap spins, then blessed us with a long, successful bonus round in which they forgot to participate in the main battle. Who won? Preemo was the favorite in the days leading up to the battle, but RZA was armed with good records by Method Man, GZA, Ol ’Dirty Bastard and Raekwon. He was too close to hang on to the score. The winner is anyone connected to hear the story of New York hip-hop song by iconic song. (That said, I'm on the side of RZA.) Strong points: Decades of hip hop royalty have camped in the comments, RZA arriving in a sleeveless vest and gloves with Afro Samurai playing in the background, the Prime Minister calls Wu-Tang's ugly hit "Gravel Pit" a pop song and follows with "Ain't No Other Man" by Christina Aguilera, RZA chasing the hot song by Biggie diss "Kick In the Door ", off 1996. Life after death, with "The Long Kiss Goodnight", another diss track from the same album. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-H_l_Mzh3EI[/embed] -> What is the summary? Swizz was a 17-year-old boy from the Bronx when he started making beats for DMX and the Ruff Ryder clique in the late 90s. Virginia Timbaland's innovator was the other benchmark of the time. If you didn't have Swizz or Tim or the Neptunes involved in your major label album, you were spoiled. It was the case of Jay-Z Flight. 2: Hard Knock Life at Drake Thank me later and beyond. The depth of the catalog made this battle a war of attrition; these are guys who can go song for song, artist for artist. The two clashed on records from Jay, Drake, Missy Elliott, Kanye West, Aaliyah, Justin Timberlake and dozens of others. The first Verzuz the battle is the longest and most difficult to call. Timbaland is the most convincing musician; there are wilder things that happen to a Timbo beat than a Swizz seven times out of ten. But Swizz is a joker ready to take on roles that no one would dare better. Run away from Jay-Z's “Jigga My Nigga”. The melody is meaningless. It's hard like nails! Who won? I give Timbo the advantage for having encouraged Swizz to play R&B and to stay strong when his opponent's (killer) reserve of the 2006 Beyoncé classics has run out, revealing his opponent's shortcomings while highlighting its own strengths. Strong points: The Jay-Z War at six songs where we could hear classic cuts from the In my life albums, every time Swizz played DMX and Timbo joked, "You play your artist." Trash conversation is the key. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6i18yHuizwc[/embed] -> What is the summary? Lil Jon and Teddy Paindergrass are the yin and yang of mid-2000s hip-hop radio. (Peace to the Ying Yang Twins, however.) T-Pain has made Auto-Tune the rap wave almost alone based on records like "Buy U a Drank (Shawty Snappin ')" and "Can't Believe It" "and produced most of it himself. (Another time, let's talk about the imposing synths of "Drank" and "Chopped N Skrewed" which are just as instrumental for the massive sound of hip-hop from 2005 to 2008 as DJ Toomp jams like "What You" by TI Know " and "I Luv It" by Jeezy or "What Up, What's Haapnin" by Drumma Boy on Tip and "Put On" by Jeezy and Kanye.) Jon brought turbulent and crunk music from Atlanta to the masses and produced for everyone from Usher and Ciara to Pitbull and, yes, T-Pain. Who won? The back-to-back bangers and lively jokes of these two made this battle less of a war and more of a club night. It was too close to call. This time, the winner was us. Strong points: Lil Jon reminding T-Pain that "Buy U a Drank" borrowed its hook from "Snap Yo Fingers", T-Pain dancing and singing with live performances of his hits until Swizz said, "What do you think, Essence Fest? ", Jon scary the crowd with anti-vax conspiracy theories, all hell was unleashed when T-Pain played the remix of "I'm a flirt" by R. Kelly. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z9xRjR8iz9c[/embed] -> What is the summary? Babyface writes majestic and masterful love songs for a long list of clients, including Whitney Houston, Toni Braxton, Bobby Brown, Boyz II Men and Ariana Grande. His solo albums Tender lover, For the freshness in you, and The day rank among the best R&B of all time. Teddy Riley, with producers like Jimmy Jam and Terry Lewis, brought a new swing to the masses in the 80s and 90s, mixing hip-hop drums and R&B melodism for famous collaborators like Bobby, Whitney, Jay-Z, Lady Gaga and Michael Jackson. Riley's groups of singers Guy and Blackstreet have scored classics in "Piece of My Love", "Groove Me" and "No Diggity". The main event on Saturday evening drew the pre-game excitement of a Tyson fight for the adult and sexy crowd. Unfortunately, the battle lasted as long as an Iron Mike match, sinking into chaos early on when technical problems emerged at the end of Teddy and sabotaged the first hour. He was trying to perform for his website while broadcasting the battle on IG Live, with a room full of staff, while Babyface directed his end of the feed alone in headphones. We heard about six songs in the first quarter hour, after which Riley asked for 20 more minutes to work on the sound, and Babyface quietly escaped and promised to reschedule the already rescheduled battle. Saving this lower ranking battle is Monday night's rematch, which went off without much technical difficulty or really no glare by Teddy Riley. After a few hilarious minutes trying to figure out how to pin a comment on IG Live, the duo settled in, played a bunch of classic records, talked about trash, cast shadow and reminded everyone why we considered them to be R&B greats. Who won? You could say that Babyface won the first night after entering the scene with two Bobby Brown classics and remained a good sport while Teddy's entire group, hype, staff and film crew fumbled with microphones and speakers, trying to stream live on two separate platforms and drown a deadly echo that Riley swore at one point came from the other guy. The rematch went to Babyface, and it wasn't close, although Teddy got some good rebuttals, reminding us that the new classic of the Keith Sweat "I Want Her" jack swing is (almost) as good as "Every Little Step" by Bobby Brown. " Strong points: Toni Braxton on the way to war Twitter, Mariah Carey and Adele make jokes, Babyface playing "Change the World" on acoustic guitar while Teddy understood the sound on Monday, Raekwon in the comments talk about stealing people from Babyface songs, Riley's team trying to fix the microphone problems by bringing in even more microphones, Babyface leaning a bit on social distancing while Riley sank in a room with what appeared to be ten heads present but no masks in view the SAME. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJPMKL_qTV0[/embed] -> What is the summary? The third Verzuz the battle re-established order when the successful R&B songwriters Ne-Yo and Johnta Austin matched the goods. The two artists are masters of tasteful love songs with hot sequences that last from the middle to the end. Ne-Yo's successes like "So Sick", "Because of you", "Miss Independent", "Irreplaceable" by Bey, "Take a Bow" by Rihanna are fluid R&B classics. Johntá's catalog - see: Bow Wow and "Like Mine" by Ciara, "Run It!" By Chris Brown "Can't Help But Wait" by Trey Songz and "We Belong Together" and "Shake It Off" by Mariah - fill the picture of a bygone era of health 106 & Park countdown and contemporary radio rate paced without worries. Who won? The two songwriters selected their best material, for the most part, although Johntá could have applied pressure with a few Mariah joints in platinum. Ne-Yo finally won, although it is better appreciated as a two-and-a-half hour nostalgia playlist from the 2000s than a formal beat battle. Strong points: Johntá sipping wine in a suit and looking quietly disturbed, Ne-Yo offering a gentleman's trash speech, The-Dream appearing in comments wondering why he couldn't have such a civilized battle. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EznbRsGAhw4[/embed] -> What is the summary? The second Verzuz event associated two hitmakers who have had an impact over the past ten years. Mostly known for drums exploding like bombs, the West Coast rapper and producer Hit-Boy composed songs by Jay, Kanye West, Bey, Drake, Kendrick Lamar and Nicki Minaj. The Toronto Boi-1da has worked with Drake since its first mixtape in 2007, Room for improvement. "Miss Me", "Headlines", "0-100 / The Catch-Up" and "Over" - all him. The catalog also includes the Eminem Hot 100 “Not Afraid” topper and scorchers with everyone from Rick Ross to Rihanna. It seemed to be an equal match until everyone realized how infinite the Drake Boi-1da classic pool is. Hit-Boy put pressure on big radio records like "Feeling Myself" by Bey and Nicki and "Backseat Freestyle" by Kendrick, but Boi-1da had an answer for almost all of them. Who won? Trying to push Boi-1da out of his comfort zone was a solid strategy that ultimately backfired on Hit-Boy. He pulled out too much of his biggest hits too soon, and it cost him in the back half of the battle, when Boi-1da locked himself in, playing ten years of Drake successes. It was a little bit like the people who fire fireballs in street fighter: It's rude, but if you can't beat him, you can't beat him. Strong points: Hit by drawing his Rihanna card with the Anti banger "Woo" but then catching "Work", Boi-1da presenting with a drop of Drake saying: "I should continue to sign with Hit-Boy because I had all the success, my boy", on " 0-100, "the two producers preview the unreleased music by Nipsey Hussle, Nas, Drake and Roddy Ricch. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wN1dGTHR-wo[/embed] -> What is the summary? Mannie Fresh is a southern rap hero best known as the architect of his Cash Money. In the 90s, he produced the first albums of Lil Wayne, Juvenile, Big Tymers, B.G. and Hot Boys, creating beats essentially from scratch. The streak continued over the next decade with TI's "Front Back" and "Big Things Poppin" Scott Storch started out as a member of the Roots and became one of the must-have beatmakers and session players of the artists , working with everyone from 50 Cent and Chris Brown at Paris Hilton and Brooke Hogan. Storch's story is complicated in a way that Mannie Fresh is not - by 2010, Storch's career had become a cautionary tale about addiction and over-spending - but regular customers like Brown and more recent stars as 6ix9ine and Russ have been looking for in recent years, as Fresh's relationship with Lil Wayne has led to good investments on Tha Carter V and this year Funeral. In battle, the two producers played classics alongside a few more recent songs, but the age gap in the crowd was palpable. Verzuz largely satisfies nostalgia; the successes of 99 and 2000 are not always as good. Who won? People swear it was a rash in favor of Storch, accusing Mannie Fresh of having a sound too specific to its time and region. It's a riot, because Storch's taste for eccentric synth sounds, hand claps and Americanized ragas screams as much as "Back That Azz Up" in 1999. But Storch finally took this one. Strong points: Storch smoking fat dulls all the time and lights them with a portable torch, Jadakiss laughs in the comments when his collaboration with Mariah Carey "U Make Me Wanna" took effect, Storch slipping "Cry Me a River" by Justin Timberlake in the mix on the technicality that he is credited as the song's key player in the Justified album cover notes. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-K0-O0YFYB4[/embed] -> What is the summary? New York rym French Montana is a trap artist whose real gift is the hooks; the catalog of tubes on which it is presented is surprisingly deep. According to the song, Tory Lanez is either an R&B singer using rap rates, or a rapper with an attentive ear for the melody. (The nose Quarantine radio combines the steamy humor of a radio jock with a steady stream of famous guests like Megan Thee Stallion and Drake and a long line of fans ready to twerk in front of the camera. It's the spring hit, attracting an average of a quarter of a million heads each time.) It sounds like a quirky match until you play a lot of their songs back to back and see the common threads. Who won? Tory Lanez has chops, but French has relationships. In a field where the biggest success always takes precedence, songs like "Stay Schemin" and "Pop That" will always demolish "Ferris Wheel" and "K Lo K", even if these are all good songs that share aesthetics . The French have won a mile. Strong points: Lanez playing "Kika" by Tekashi 6ix9ine Day69 but refusing to recognize who it was, the French nonchalantly smoking hookah, Lanez being a good sport to lose. [embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpGZ86i310I[/embed] -> What is the summary? The scandalous confrontation between Atlanta-based hitmakers The-Dream and Sean Garrett is the reason Verzuz now has basic rules. Dream - who contributed to the creation of many successes, including “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)” by Beyoncés and “Touch My Body” by Mariah Carey, and created his own memorable songs in “Falsetto” and “Rockin 'That Shit' - was cordial and timely in his Sunday evening scrap. Garrett is best known by people who do not read the lining notes as a guest in Nicki Minaj's "Massive Attack", but known to those who know him as the co-author and / or co-producer of singles like "Yeah !, "by Usher Ciara's" goodies "and Yonce's firecrackers like" Ring the Alarm ". That said, he showed up late, shaking the camera lasciviously and letting the recordings topple over for too long. (That's why contestants are only allowed to play a song until the first chorus now.) Antics ate most of the first hour, where Dream released a steady stream of solid songs, and Garrett played random songs, digging Blueprint 3- Will be songs by Jay-Z and unpublished first solo. But the scales were rocked, and the fight became good when Garrett pulled it together and started matching Dream song to song. Who won? The crowd swore that Garrett was smoking Dream, but what really happened was that he shot a Rocky. He ate shots through the opening laps and swayed towards the end when his opponent withdrew. But it's not boxing. There is no KO. It is important that Sean blew up the first hour. It is also important that Dream lets slip a comfortable lead, giving up too many points while leaving too much heat on the table. Sean won ... but it was close. Strong points: The-Dream playing mini-golf in front of the camera as Garrett appears slammed and makes impromptu opening remarks, Dream showing the demo version of Jay-Z's "Holy Grail" with himself instead of Justin Timberlake, Garrett scary the crowd with faces of love, famous spectators like Big joe, Kelly Rowland, and Rick Ross get tired and act in the comments. https://oltnews.com/all-verzuz-instagram-battles-live-ranked-vautour?_unique_id=5e9f3fce8833d

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