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seoracle · 3 years

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DRIVERS LICENSE; i

Pairing: Bang Chan x Idol! Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: Fake Dating! AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies(?), Occasional Pining, Comedy, S for potential smut(??)

Summary: Y/N has become an overnight sensation with ‘Drivers License’, Breaking records left and right...But what if the press gets wind of the ill-matched lovers and their company decide it’s the perfect attention ploy?

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: Swearing (a lot near the end), Drinking mention

A/N: this was meant to be a drabble... now it’s becoming a series...i’m sorry

“...and the winner of Inkigayo today is...Y/N with ‘Drivers License, Congratulations!”

You step towards the center of the stage and take the trophy and bouquet from a rookie idol, who flashes a bright smile at you, but you can see the envy in his eyes. You once had that same hunger and ambition that he seems to reek of, it’s a reminder of how far you’ve come.

Taking the mic, you begin to sing a more sultry and edgier vibe than usual, which seems to gather more screams from fans than usual. You remember what Seulgi taught you and gaze at the camera lens with a subtle pout, trying to capture the angst of the song in your gaze.

It feels ridiculous, feigning emotions you no longer feel, singing a song you begged the company not to put out in a corset fitted shirt that’ll leave your ribs sore and reddened. It’s pathetic and cliche, you quite literally sold your soul (well, heart) for fame.

“Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street…”

Everyone behind you waves at the camera, signalling the show is ending. You leave last, taking several confetti bits for your scrapbook, which is the only thing keeping you from remembering this is all real.

Backstage, Iris and San are waiting in your dressing room, they greet you with proud grins and slaps on the back.

“Well, if it isn’t miss twelve...no, thirteen wins in two weeks.” San praises, enveloping you in a hug.

“Could be thirteen by tomorrow~” Hums Iris in a sing-song tone.

A groan leaves your lips, while slumping into an uncomfortable chair. You tune out their excited plans for your makeup and hair tomorrow, San says something about an end of year Award show.

All you want is to go home to your empty dormitory and sleep.

When you finally arrive to the ‘comfort’ of your ‘studio apartment’ (box room), it isn’t long before you strip down to your pyjamas and aggressively rub off the layers of makeup that seem to cling to every pore and fine line of your face. The cold air from the fan soothes the aching of your body from your strict workout routine. You stay awake until 4am, reading comments from netizens and replying to fans on your fancafe, it was hard not to become obsessed with checking what people thought; whether they loved or loathed you.

[+184 -93] Y/N is talented, but they look devoid of emotion since last week...maybe singing a song so personal isn’t a good idea….what if the person it’s about hears it…..

User FYL**8 was right, it had become draining trying to convey emotions you’d long let go of. Your debut song was fresh and fun, it didn’t garner much attention but at least you hadn’t had to fake emotions and relive your first heartbreak.

Although the memories of the breakup didn’t hurt as much, the happiest ones were the most painful. The feeling of ignorance, thinking he meant forever and believing him completely...it was all so distant yet felt a fingertip away.

That night you slept with a heavy heart, remembering what it felt like when he’d hold you close and right and kiss you on the head to soothe your worries. Why did it have to end? Why like that? You try to drift into a nice sleep after another exhausting day but to no avail, thoughts of him are flooding every thought. Has he heard it? There was no way he hadn’t, he loved to check out every ranking song for inspiration or for another artist to add to his monthly playlist.

Would he get angry? Sad? Laugh at your pathetic feelings? He was right in the end, when it came down to it you only shared your feelings when it was too late.

Stupid Christopher fucking Bang.

It wasn’t often you’d refer to him as Chan, you had met him when he only saw it as another name for himself that he hardly used. Back when his hair had been fluffed up curls that he couldn’t contain and his light freckles weren’t covered by BB Cream. When he didn’t belong to the world and only loved you.

After months of forcing yourself not to, you hastily search “Stray kids Bang Chan + Y/N”, Then “Stray Kids Y/N” and finally “Skz Y/N”. The results are minimal and far inbetween, mostly tweets from fans wishing for a collab and oddly enough one person making edited photos of you and them, which are so convincing you have to remind yourself you hadn’t met them.

Thoughts drift to his friends, the ones who didn’t know Chris was even seeing someone and had been for over a year. They tried to sugarcoat it, say they forgot, it’s hard to keep track when you’re training and all that.

The sinking feeling you felt when Minho asked how long you’d been together, guessing a month at most. When you did reply, ears burning with embarrassment he coughed and muttered “Oh.’, That had stung.

Everything had seemed so perfect, until you opened your eyes and saw it for what it was.

You don’t end up sleeping much, two hours at most, Then it’s time to get ready and head to the Broadcast Studio for today’s event. All you know is it’s a show about giving advice, the reviews aren’t great but you aren’t allowed to turn anything down because fame is a double-edged sword that you can barely grasp as is.

Iris and San are already waiting for you when you get there, within minutes makeup is being patted into your skin and your outfit is laid out on the chair next to you.

“Sleep more, Y/N-ah, I had to use a double coverage concealer to hide your dark circles.” Iris said in a fretful tone.

“I try, it’s hard being famous.” You reply jokingly, flipping your hair the best you can. Iris smacks your hand away and frantically finds her hairspray.

Within twenty minutes you’re dressed and not one hair is out of place, San pulls you aside with an uncharacteristically stern face.

“The company have specific goals for sending you here, they want you to delve into a story of heartbreak to comfort today’s victim, while keeping anonymity and remaining as vague as you can.”

Of course, even a show about helping others is fictional.

You nod solemnly and prepare to go on air, sitting on a cushion next to a popular comedian who doesn’t bother to even look at you. A well-known Streamer is on your other side and you begin polite small talk, which seems to irritate the host.

“We’re on in 3,2….1!” A sharp click follows the director’s queue and the host bursts right into the introduction.

After you’re introduced it’s easy to tune out, you couldn’t give a shit about that stuck-up comedian and the actress to their right. Instead you think of how the fuck you’re supposed to conjure up an emotional performance with little to no time to prepare.

‘My ex-boyfriend hid me for almost two years’ no, not even worthy of a cheap gossip magazine. ‘I thought my boyfriend loved me, turns out he loved his career more’ Maybe...but you sound too needy.

“Today’s guest is Lee Chaeun of Suwon! Tell us your story, please.”

You turn to look at the guest who walks onto the set and sits at the head of the pillow mats. She’s clearly a young girl, her baby face is covered by face-framing layers of shiny black hair and her eyes are already glassy.

“Last year, I began dating my crush after years of admiring him from afar...Everything seemed so perfect until last week….He dumped me by text message saying he needed space and now he’s with someone new..” Chaeun bursts into tears and the host fakes a sympathetic face and passes her a box of tissues.

“Ah, you’re young...you don’t know anything yet. This is a normal phase for teenagers, men realise themselves and break girls down so they become beautiful women. It’s just a case of a little girl not wanting to grow up!” Chimes in the Comedian, who talks about his falsities as if they’re facts.

The audience erupts into laughter and the heartbroken teenager lowers her head in embarrassment. Which only makes you more enraged, Who told that guy he was funny?

“Chaeun has every right to be upset!” You exclaim, cutting through the laugher like a hot knife. “When a relationship ends when everything seems alright for one person, it's cruel. Being blindsided isn’t a joke. It hurts and she deserves closure, and to move on someday to a better person..What happened to her shouldn’t happen to anyone!” You barely register a gentle hand on top of yours, far too surprised by the fact there are tears dripping down your face. Crying wasn’t an option, so you pull yourself together and apologise to Chaeun and the host you cannot stand.

“Y/N, You seemed personally moved by Chaeun’s story, have you experienced a painful breakup?” The host asks curiously.

“You could say that,” You begin with a wry smile. “I was with someone who lived a double life, they were completely different when they were with other people...Things ended when I was still planning for future dates...it made me realise how fake they were.”

The guests all nod and you squeeze Chaeun’s hand, she smiles at you seeming relieved that she isn’t the only one who has felt this kind of pain.

Everything goes smoothly after that, other guests chime in and the actress that seemed snobby is openly discussing her ex vomiting all over her Valentinos. You can’t help but wonder if the company really suggested this, or if it was divine intervention (Choi San, your manager).

You don’t feel so alone anymore, everyone is guaranteed several things, two being love and heartbreak of some kind.

“Thanks to singer Y/N and actress Sojung, Chaeun was able to feel a little better...Thank you for joining us on ‘Help No Counsellor!’, Join us next week when…’

“Choi San, you sneaky bastard.”

He tries to act surprised but a shit-eating grin soon overtakes his acting, Iris shakes her head and zips her makeup bag closed. It isn’t long until you’re all at The Min’s enjoying red bean bread and warm tea. “What does inept even mean? I’m assuming it’s a good thing because Wooyoung kissed me after saying it.” San mentions, his lips curving upwards at the fond memory.

“I’d have to agree with Woo, it fits you perfectly.” You reply, circling around his question while Iris tries not to choke on her food.

Fits of laughter die down when you spot a familiar face, Lee Mijoo.

Her blonde hair flows down her back in loose curls and her soft eyes seem to enchant everyone, admittedly even you for a short time.Behind her is a slightly taller figure dressed in all black and your stomach drops.They don’t seem to notice your presence, so you decide to use this valuable time to hide behind a menu.

San and Iris try to play along best they can, but it is quite distressing that all of this has happened so suddenly, with no prior warning. But he did bring you here, a lot. So it’s amusing to see his date ideas haven't changed.

As he’s walking past you he pauses, and you want to shrivel into a hole and die, He’s clearly recognised you but can’t be 100% sure due to The Min’s menu covering your entire face.

“Y/N?”

Shit. You cannot hide from this.

Slowly taking the menu away and placing it down on the table you smile at him, maybe a little too forced but it’s the best you can do. His hair is blonde now, his curls are long gone but his smile is as genuine as ever.

Stupid Christopher Bang and his stupid ‘I-totally-didn’t-break-your-heart’ attitude.

“Chan, nice to see you. Still obsessed with their double shots?” You humoured, he seemed grateful for that.

“Oh, absolutely...and I see you’re still not saving any bean bread for anyone else.”

You laugh, it’s a bittersweet one at best but nevertheless it’s a laugh.

'Well it’s great to see you again, I’d love to exchange numbers if that’s alright?”

Without thinking you nod and oblige him, much to your friend’s disappointment which is evident by their glares. Mijoo exchanges smiles with everyone, who could hate her? She was funny, kind hearted and beautiful in every aspect.

When they finally leave to their outside seats you breathe a sigh of relief and sink into the chair.Iris strokes your hair and San grabs more snacks to go, the walk home isn’t peaceful. It’s awkward and silent, which only makes your head spin more. When you drop off Iris you know a lecture is coming, San hates doing it but you know he tells you what you need to hear, even if it hurts.

“Look, I’m happy you were able to brush off all the hurt today but earlier on you were crying about….this. Don’t give him the power to hurt you twice.”

“You’re right, thanks Sannie.” You reply, taking his arm and smiling at the warmth of his (Wooyoung’s) fuzzy coat.

Once San leaves and you get inside, it’s a matter of minutes before you hop in the shower and get rid of all the hairspray and mascara that’s been making you itch all day. The warm water soothes away your nerves and the impending frostbite from being outside in the cold for far too long.

Once you feel clean and somewhat scalded you step out onto warm fluffy towels (cheap warm fluffy towels with holes in them) and get situated for bed.

Just as you exit the bathroom your phone rings and you answer immediately, it’s probably Iris wanting you to play a new Among Us mod with her.

“Iris?”

“Uh, no, Chris.”

“Oh.” is your initial reply, why would he call you at midnight?

“Where you asleep? I’m sorry I’ll call back another ti-”

“No!” You interject, much too eagerly. “No...it’s fine. I’m not even in bed yet.”

“Oh” He sounds relieved, much the opposite of you.

“I just wanted to congratulate you...The song, it’s great. What’s it like actually singing one you wrote?”

“Great,” You admit with a smile he can't see, “It feels...genuine. I Couldn't stand the thought of giving the song away.”

“I can see why.” He replies in an unreadable tone.

“Did it make you uncomfortable? Me singing...about-”

“No, why would it?” He cuts in, he sounds slightly agitated.

“Look, Chan, I’m sorry. I should’ve texted you, well I did but you changed your number. But it’s my story too, okay? I needed to heal somehow.”

Minutes pass with no answer, as if he’s trying to think of exactly what to say without getting more irritated or to spare your feelings.

“When did I become Chan?” His voice comes out wavering,and it hurts you.

“That’s what everyone calls you now, you’re not just Chris the trainee anymore.” You reply in a gentle way, trying to ease the building tension.

“But to you, when did I stop being Chris?”

“Probably when you broke my heart,” You deadpan, before adding a ‘kidding’ and bullshit reason.

“You weren’t kidding, but you broke mine too. Don’t make me the bad guy.”

This had taken you aback, you had been in a perfectly happy relationship for almost two years and then he changed his mind, said he wasn’t happy and it wasn’t your fault. When the fuck did you break his heart?

“When exactly did that happen?” You query, “Before or after Mijoo?”

Chan lets out a dry laugh, “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand.”

“Well what does it matter? You never told me shit anyways.” You snapped.

“That’s because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Maybe to you it was all sunshine and roses but I was struggling, I changed and outgrew us. I didn’t want to but you were stuck in dreamland where we’d debut at the same time and live happily ever after. I realised it wasn’t going to happen and set you free so you wouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed?” You bark,”Fucking embarrassed of what exaclty? I left that shithole you call your company by choice and worked my way up. I’m not embarrassed, but you should be. You’re a fucking sellout Christopher Bang.”

Before he can reply you end the call and throw your phone at the wall, it would’ve broken only for the forty dollar case the store assistant convinced you to buy. You burst into tears just like you had that night when it all came crashing down. He must’ve loved seeing you in pain, because he keeps doing it even now.

That night, you wish for everything to go back to a time before him and the heartbreak that followed.

It’s early on a Friday when you’re called into a board meeting with the CEO, Director and San, who looks like someone stepped on his clay masterpiece. You still haven’t been told anything and as the minutes pass by you wonder if they found out about you getting drunk at Club Suran several weeks back. What if someone saw San there too? What if–

Suddenly the doors open and in walks JYP’s CEO, followed by several others and finally Chris. He looks as confused as you, but you quickly look away before he spots you. Last night was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t need anymore reminders or conversations with him.

“Dispatch has sent us several photos of you two together, spanning several years.” Your CEO announces, an Executive pulling the photos up on the screen behind her. “Including one from yesterday.”

“That was a coincidence, we broke up a long time ago.” You admit, she seems satisfied with your answer and nods, which makes you remember that damned dating ban you have.

“Usually, we’d shoot down these rumours immediately...but this could be quite beneficial to both Stray Kids and Y/N.” JYP’s CEO adds, “Stock prices have shown a rise for both of your albums, and real time searches are at an all time high.”

“I have a girlfriend.” Chan states, arms folded. “So that’s out of the question if you’re implying we fake a relationship.”

“Look Bang Chan,” Begins one of the Advisors, “It’s all for show, we’ll plan every detail and your girlfriend will keep her mouth shut if she knows what's good for her. Frankly, our sales aren't what they used to be and you need this, if you want complete musical and artistic control.”

Chan takes a while to think, you know this is all he’s wanted. Control over everything he and the boys put out there, with no censorship or edits by anyone else. Your CEO assures you you’ll also benefit from the agreement, including your debt fully cleared and money in your bank account as soon as you sign on the dotted line.

“How long does this last?” You ask, pen in hand.

“Twelve months, then you’re free again.”

Chan looks to you for conformation and you ignore him, signing it and standing up to leave. You only stop to sign more formalities and then you and San head back to your local coffee shop.

“Well, you sure have a funny way of moving on.”

#i'm sorry in advance #however thoughts are welcomed #skz chan #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids blurbs #stray kids scenarios #bang chan angst #stray kids imagines #skz blurbs #stray kids chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan blurbs #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you

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candyheartharry · 4 years

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Go Your Own Way - Part 2

Guess what’s back! Part 1 to Go Your Own Way can be found here, ((which as stated previously is based off a tweet I once say for a Mamma Mia!-esque movie using Fleetwood Mac songs and starring Harry)) this one is the playlist for the series, and once again please let me know what you think!!! The word count for this part is just a little over 3k and once again here’s a brief summary of the series 💕The film of the same name stars Harry as our lead, who on screen is the frontman of an up and coming band called The Silk Roses in the mid-70′s, while our female lead (who also wrote and directed the film) plays his not-so-obvious love interest when she joins the band singing background vocals at the suggestion of the band’s guitarist who met her through her brother. During the day she manages the record shop her father had started, while her brother runs a recording studio out of the back where The Silk Roses recorded their early demos. Off camera, Harry and the main character have become close friends, and sometimes acting as someone’s love interest can be hard to drop when the cameras aren’t rolling.

“You really don’t have to go out of your way like this just for me,” she tried to plead with Harry in the kitchen of his New York City apartment, perched on a chair at the island while he tapped away on his phone, sending a few last minute emails to try to work a little Harry Styles magic before the movie premiere later that evening.

“It’s seriously the least I could do, and it’s not even going out of my way! Look at me! I’m in my own kitchen! I’m wearing slippers!” he replied dramatically gesturing to his feet, where he was indeed wearing a pair of soft pink slippers to accompany his silk robe, grey sweatpants, and white t-shirt ensemble. She may or may not be wearing a similar ensemble, since she may or may not be wearing his clothes after having may or may not have fallen asleep on his couch the night before after they went back to his place after going out to dinner.

They had gotten a little carried away with one of their never ending conversations they were so good at getting lost in while sitting on the floor of his living room and doing a puzzle on his coffee table, and suddenly it was two a.m. and she found herself fighting to stay awake on the couch while he was sat opposite of her, their legs stretched out to meet in the middle, even though his were nearly too long to do so comfortably.

At least, she had fallen asleep the night before on the couch, but when she woke to sunlight coming through the window, she realized she was suddenly in a bed in Harry’s guest room, which he must have carried her to at one point while she was asleep.

Now, with just about ten hours before the movie premiere, Harry was sending emails back and forth with Radio City Music Hall’s head of events staff to see if they would be able to book an extra lounge room space at the venue to set up a small stage and perform a few songs from the movie since he now knew for sure that Mick Fleetwood and both Christine and John McVie would be able to come.

“I personally think it would be pretty fucking cool if we got to sing with them, plus I know they’d love it. Mick was actually under the impression there’d be some sort of performance going on during the after party in the first place, so I can promise you, this is seriously not any trouble at all, just please let me do this for you and also because I want to for me, too,” Harry replied after he put his phone down, placing his hands on the counter and leaning across to her just a little closer.

She knows there’s no stopping him once his mind is made up, especially when he thinks it’s over something nice. She really thinks all this is to make up for not hearing back from Stevie, even though other members of the band can come, it looks like she’d be stuck with prior commitments that kept her in Los Angeles for the time being. To avoid getting her heart broken over Stevie not coming, she decided to change the subject, hoping the next topic won’t break her heart either.

“So have you got a date for the evening?” she asked before she took a sip of her orange juice he had set out with their breakfast, knowing it’s best to be prepared to expect him showing up with someone rather than be caught off guard by it when she sees someone she doesn’t know on his arm later on in the night. He shrugged and took a sip of some juice concoction he blended a little earlier before he replies. “Depends on if she says yes or not, we’ll see.”

Although she was the one who asked in the first place, it still made her a little jealous. She never meant to get a little possessive over her costar, after all they had only met because of the movie, it wasn’t as if they were friends beforehand. Admittedly, she catches feelings much too fast, so she knew it was a dangerous game to play Harry’s love interest in a film and expect to not have some sort of fraction of feelings for him. Was she really just expected to act as if she loved and cared about him, and then just go back to normal life? Maybe a trained actress could do the same, sure, but she was both a writer and hopeless romantic. With Harry she couldn’t really tell if it was a proper crush, or she was just jealous that some of the affection she had seen he was capable of were reserved for someone who wasn’t her. Either way, she tried to collect her thoughts and think of something to say while she spread more strawberry jam on a slice of toast, but luckily he kept the conversation going so that she didn’t have to.

“So we’ll have to come up with a set list I suppose, probably good to have a few options and then see what John, Mick, and Christine are up for. I was thinking we could do Sara, obviously The Chain, I Don’t Want To Know, and Dreams if those are good with you?” He took the time to add a little more strawberry cream cheese to his own bagel as he asked the question, to which she nodded and hummed a response around a mouthful of toast.

“Just might have a surprise for you later by the way,” he continued smugly, adding just the slightest shimmy of his hips over the delight that he knew something she didn’t, and also over the delight of knowing how much she hated knowing about surprises. She replied with an exasperated groan just as he knew she would, “Couldn’t you have just surprised me instead of telling me you’re going to surprise me?! Wouldn’t that have made so much more sense?!”

“Might’ve made sense, but wouldn’t have been any fun for me, now would it?” he teased with a smirk, to which she rolled her eyes and wanted to kick him in the knees. “Anyways, I’d better get going, I should start getting ready soon. Thank you for breakfast and letting me sleep in your guest room. I’ll be there early to do a couple red carpet interviews, since I ya know, wrote it and starred in it and all, so I’ll see you once you get there, I guess,” she replied as she took her dishes to the sink to clean up.

“Oooh, look at you Miss Triple Threat, are you nervous?” he said with a playful bump of his hip against hers while he rinsed his own dishes in the sink next to her. He had noticed she had been fidgety all morning, and assumed it was nerves starting to get to her. “I should be fine once I get into the swing of things. I’ll feel better once I’ve got other people with me and the rest of the cast is there, so please come find me once you get there so I don’t have to be by myself too long,” she admitted, resting her hip against the counter once she turned to face him.

“You’re going to do amazing, you’ll hardly even notice when I’m not there. I’ll come find you first chance I get, I promise. Want me to go ahead and call you a car?” he offered as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders to give her a reassuring hug, placing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She nodded a yes even though she didn’t really want to leave, resting her cheek on his shoulder as he soothingly rubbed her back.

The two of them remained there like that for a moment by the counter, before he then picked up his phone off the counter behind them to call for her ride, sending a quick text to his driver before sliding his phone in his pocket and wrapping his now free hand around her to hold her a little tighter. “I’ll be fine once I’m there, I don’t know what I’m so nervous for ahead of time,” she confided in him, knowing she would feel more comfortable by his side in front of all the cameras and lights like she does right now in the peacefulness of his kitchen. He was a seasoned professional, and while she knew what to expect, she would have a significantly larger amount of attention on her this evening than she was used to. Sure, she’d been to premieres for projects she had written or directed or even acted in before, but this particular project had felt almost like her baby, and while she was extremely proud of it, she really just wanted everyone else to love it as much as she did.

“I wish I could just sleep in your guest room all day until it’s time to go, I don’t want to be awake and be nervous, I just want to get this started, the wait is going to drive me insane,” she rambled, still pressed tightly to his chest as he continued to rub her back. He pulled back a little for second and looked down at her with a confused look on his face. “My guest room?” he inquired, resulting in her expression matching his, but suddenly a wave of realization hit her, and she gently shoved his arm over what she thinks she’s come to the conclusion that he had done.

“Harry, stop it, did you let me kick you out of your own room so I could sleep in your bed? Tell me that I woke up in your guest room,” she continued. He held onto her a little tighter as she tried to squirm away, making her even more flustered at his kindness towards her.

“Please, you think I’d elect to sleep on my couch when I’ve got a movie premiere the next morning?” he teased. “You didn’t kick me in your sleep and you never snored, but you did try to hold my hand and your fingers were really cold. You just seemed so exhausted so I couldn’t just leave you on the couch. Best blankets are on my bed,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, although to her it was a Very Big Deal and she probably wouldn’t stop thinking about it and kicking herself for having a chance to share a bed with her attractive costar that she couldn’t tell if she had a crush on and not remember anything about it because she was asleep. They had taken naps on set together wherever they had a spot to fall asleep during late night shoots so sleeping near him wasn’t the problem, it was the idea of being in his bed in his room, and not even realizing it. “Harry Styles, you are entirely too much.”

A notification buzzed on his phone, which he retrieved from his pocket to read, letting her know his car is waiting for her whenever she was ready to leave for her own hotel room she had reserved nearby. She took a moment to collect her things from the night before, slipping back into his bedroom to change into her own clothes again. Earlier when he was trying to convince her to spend time with him before the premiere once they both were in New York she had teased him that there were bound to be more rumors they were dating, and now here she was about to leave his apartment in the same clothes she had worn the night before. Even though she knew it was extremely unlikely that anyone would see her leaving, she still personally hated the idea of what people might think, so once she was half dressed in her own clothes and still wearing his shirt he offered for her to sleep in, she called out to him in the hallway. “Harry, I’m going to steal your shirt for the day, I’ll give it back later, okay?”

He appeared at the other end of the hall from the kitchen, his hands shoved in the pockets of his robe. “Just a couple weeks ago you didn’t want to go to dinner with me because you were worried people would think we were together, now you want to leave my apartment wearing my clothes?” he teased.

“Look, it’s either I leave wearing your clothes, or I leave in the clothes I wore the night before, and honestly, I’m not fond of either option! Plus if I take just a white shirt, it could belong to literally anybody so I should be fine.”

“What, you don’t want to wear a tour shirt with my face on it to give people something to talk about at the premiere tonight?” he replied with a smirk, making her once again roll her eyes as she leaned against the doorframe.

“No, Harry, I really do not,” she replied, trying to sound annoyed even though she couldn’t help but smile. She turned away to walk back into his bedroom before he had the chance to think of another reply, going to fold the pants he loaned to her to sleep in and placing the folded pair on the foot of his bed. Now that she knew it was actually his room and not just his spare guest bedroom, she didn’t know how she could’ve made the mistake in the first place. Personal touches of him were all over if you looked in the right place. A jewelry box with his collection of rings was on top of his dresser, there were a total of three different vanilla cashmere candles in different places around the room, and a small assortment of journals and novels were lined up along the shelf at the bottom of the nightstand by the bed. In the corner of the room a jacket was thrown over a chair, one she recognized from a memory long ago when she first met him in a studio in London when he came in for his very first audition. She hadn’t seen that specific jacket in ages, and it took her a moment for the memory to come back to her, but once she placed where she recognized it from, she was instantly taken back to a rainy afternoon sitting at a table with a casting director when she saw Harry walk in for the first time and introduce himself.

When his agent had been in touch to express his interest in her film, she had been floored to say the least. She knew she had to be objective, and judge his audition the same as anyone else’s, but she would’ve been lying if she were to say Harry wasn’t her first choice before even seeing him read for the role. If she really had to think about it, and narrow it down to one specific moment that made her thoughts and feelings towards him begin to blur the lines of professional and attracted to him, it was likely the moment he walked into the room and shook everyone’s hands at his audition. Something about taking his hand and meeting his eyes for that very first moment drew her in, she knew being professional might be challenging, which she now knew for sure how challenging that would be.

Something about seeing that jacket from that very first time she met him had triggered another realization in her as well. Something about it made her realize how long ago that day really was and how far this project had come along, making her also very sad that this was almost all over. This project she had been working for years on was about to belong to not just her anymore, but the whole world. It was a special moment when it first belonged to the cast and crew as well, but finally having it out in the world seemed very surreal and bittersweet.

“Snooping through my things?” Her thoughts were interrupted by Harry showing up in the doorway, leaning against the frame very similar to how she had been just a few moments before.

“Do you ever get a little sad when you release music?” she asked once she turned around to face him after she heard his voice.

“I don’t really know if I would say sad, but it is kind of intimidating I would say,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“It kind of just hit me that this project won’t be just mine anymore after this, and really it hasn’t been just mine for a long time, and I don’t know, it just made me kind of sad, I guess,” she shrugged herself, shaking her head in attempts to clear her thoughts. She collected her things after glancing around the room to make sure she wasn’t leaving anything behind and met him in the doorway.

He walked her down the hall and took the elevator with her down to the garage, opening the car door for her with a quick kiss to her cheek before she slid inside. “I’ll come find you later, you’re going to be just fine. We’ll have a moment to rehearse before we perform with the band later tonight, I’ve got it squared away so I’ll just pull you away from your adoring fans so we can get ready to sing for them. Sound good?” he asked, to which she nodded a yes before he gave her hand a quick squeeze and closed the car door.

When he started to walk back towards the elevators she rolled down the window and called out to get his attention. “Don’t think I forgot about whatever surprise you just couldn’t wait to tell me about! It better be good!”

He smiled and gave a quick wave as the car starts to pull away. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna love it!” Harry was quite good at pulling strings, and she was about to find out just how good at it he could be.

#actor!harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry one shot #harry styles one shot #harry series #harry styles series #fleetwood mac #vintage harry #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #writing #styles #go your own way #70s harry #actor!harry fic #harry fic

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taytay4ever · 6 years

Text

Amid So Many Stories About Bad Men In The Media, Taylor Swift Strikes Back With ‘Reputation’

In the run-up to her sixth album, Reputation, Taylor Swift has been discussed first as a global brand, with the media analyzing her every machination and whether it has induced her possible “obsolescence,” and then as a musician. But now that this record is finally in the world, let’s start with Swift’s music for a change.

Reputation is a cold, convoluted, often surly record, heavily weighted with overly complicated prog-R&B arrangements, awkward attempts at rapping, and lyrics that underline every reference to Swift’s casual hook-ups and late-night binge-drinking. At the risk of libeling Swift’s usual stable of expensive pop-auteur collaborators — headlined by Max Martin, Shellback, and Jack Antonoff — some of the songs seem almost pasted together, with verses barging indelicately into pre-choruses as tempos shift in jarring fashion. The elegance of previous Swift blockbusters like 2012’s Red and 2014’s 1989 has gone missing.

And yet, Reputation adds up to a fascinating and often moving, self-portrait. On the biggest possible stage, Swift has fearlessly exposed some of her rawest vulnerabilities. For the first time in years, Swift seems like a rather ordinary human being, with all the unattractive flaws and nagging hang-ups that suggests.

As was the case with Reputation‘s bewildering first single, “Look What You Made Me Do,” the album is initially off-putting, as sour and difficult to like as Swift’s previous pop album, the candy-coated retro-pop showcase 1989, was sweet and catchy. Swift is nothing if not a pop-music prodigy, a seasoned hitmaker at age 27 who already displayed preternatural gifts for crafting heart-rending earworms more than a decade ago, at a time when her peers were struggling to write essays on The Great Gatsby (which Swift pointedly references on Reputation) in high school.

Swift’s franchise is creating the types of songs that people like without even trying to like them. And yet Reputation is decidedly not in that tradition — sure enough, the album’s early singles have not captured the public’s imagination the way those undeniable world-beaters of 1989 did. It seems intuitive that this represents a failure on Swift’s part. But then you dwell on this album’s lyrics, which are laced with violent imagery and obsessed with control and score-settling, and all of a sudden the turbulent, herky-jerky music makes more sense.

Reputation doesn’t fail at being likable, because being likable for once doesn’t seem to be Swift’s agenda. Rather, this album succeeds at expressing a litany of deep, intractable resentments by a world-famous pop star who seems alienated from all but a tight circle of trusted confidantes. “Here’s a toast to my real friends,” she crows on the album’s bitterest track, “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” You suspect she’s not addressing more than a few people.

Who is Taylor mad at? Who do you got? No specific names are mentioned in the lyrics to Reputation, so instead there are opaque references to “older guys,” “the world,” “what I can’t have,” and “the liars.” But, above all, what haunts Taylor is the proverbial “they” — in “I Did Something Bad,” they are “burning all the witches, even if you aren’t one.” In “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things,” Swift loves her baby because “he ain’t reading what theycall me lately.”

The songs on Reputation don’t necessarily lend themselves to the sort of “Which boyfriend is this one about?” parlor games that people usually play with Taylor Swift albums. The animus instead here feels intangible and existential, which is why Swift’s belated embrace of hip-hop, while artistically tenuous and bound to be viewed cynically by those who believe Swift is an opportunist, is such a crucial development on Reputation.

It’s easy to laugh at Swift’s stilted flow in “…Ready For It?” or puzzle at the ill-advised “street speak” of the chorus. (“I, I, I see how this is gon’ go.”) But the overt feistiness of rap allows Swift to front-load emotions that she has previously kept concealed behind frothy pop hooks and that iconic “Oh, I can’t believe my good fortune!” award-show face. “I bury hatchets, but I keep maps of where I put ’em,” Swift spits in “End Game,” which shoehorns cameos by Future and Ed Sheeran that would seem preordained by a streaming-service algorithm if Swift were more enthusiastic about streaming. (Reputation is not yet available on any streaming platform.)

Swift has written similarly barbed lyrics in the past, of course, but back then there was usually a trace of playfulness. When she refers to herself as “insane” in “Blank Space,” you can sense the self-deprecation and implied eye roll. But Reputation — aside from that stray cat joke in “Gorgeous” — is mirthless. This time, when Swift buries a hatchet, she draws blood.

Swift has been a magnet for criticism lately — some of it fair, much of it not. The media narrative has turned so rapidly against her that it’s almost hard to remember that, for much of her career, Swift was a darling of the press. As late as 2015, the New York Times was still inclined to refer to her as an “underdog,” and there were no shortage of Swift defenders in the press eager to call out perceived slights, whether it was an indie-music site not reviewing 1989 (even as virtually every other outlet on the planet lavished the album with coverage) or the sexism of Ryan Adams covering the album in its entirety.

But nobody sees Swift as an underdog in 2017. Now, she’s an establishment foil for Cardi B, whose scrappy smash “Bodak Yellow” removed “Look What You Made Me Do” from the top of the pop charts after “just” three weeks this fall. “Look What You Made Me Do” has sunk precipitously ever since, along with the followup single “…Ready For It,” which peaked at No. 4.

Certainly, it’s worth noting that these songs haven’t made the impact that singles like “Blank Space” and “Shake It Off” did. But the whispers that Swift is now finished as a pop star, as Spotify-powered rappers storm the charts seems a tad premature, given that Reputation is projected to move an impressive-in-any-era two million units in its first week.

Did anyone really expect Swift to keep on churning out 1989-sized pop bangers in perpetuity? Who faulted Beyoncé when Lemonade — which like Reputation is clearly conceived as an album rather than a playlist of singles — also didn’t produce any lasting chart hits? (The highest charting single from Lemonade, “Formation,” peaked at No. 10. At least Taylor spent the better part of a month at No. 1.)

Here’s a criticism I agree with: Swift should condemn the alt-right cult that reveres her as some sort of blonde Aryan goddess. Her apparent stubbornness on this issue is strange, considering that sending out a press release against Nazis is literally the easiest thing in the world to do. (I suspect she doesn’t deem it necessary to declare her anti-Nazi bonafides, as opposed to being reluctant to anger conservatives, a frequent charge from critics. But letting the controversy linger nonetheless is nonsensical.) However, the larger argument that Swift’s stock as a pop star has slipped because she’s maintained a largely apolitical public persona doesn’t wash.

Swift, like virtually every artist, is a narcissist. And, by and large, that’s why people like her, because when Swift sings about herself, she does it in a way that makes millions of people believe she’s actually singing about them. That is the job of a pop star. This weird insistence that a musician who has previously shown no inclination to be a political commentator must suddenly register her yay-or-nay take on Donald Trump, Black Lives Matter, or Hillary vs. Bernie says more about our displaced reverence for pop stars than it does about Swift’s supposed moral obligations.

Isn’t it possible that Taylor Swift genuinely has nothing to say on these matters? And isn’t that okay? If given the choice between performative wokeness and authentic non-engagement, I’ll take the latter, please. Besides, as we’ve seen demonstrated time and again lately, the personal is political, particularly when it comes to one of Swift’s primary subjects: The power struggles between men and women.

Reputation arrives in the midst of an ongoing moral apocalypse in the entertainment industry, in which sexual harassment and assault have been properly re-contextualized in the popular consciousness as expressions of dominance and humiliation, typically by straight white men over women. Swift herself has been victimized by this power imbalance, by a Colorado radio DJ who groped her during a station visit in 2013, when Swift was 23. (Swift won a civil suit against the DJ this summer.)

It might be hard to conceive of Swift, one of the world’s most famous women, as somehow subordinate to a faceless radio jock. But consider how country radio has suppressed women, or how chart success (which is still enabled greatly by radio airplay) has come to dominate, dubiously, how we determine relevance or even artistic merit in popular music. If the fallout from the Harvey Weinstein scandal has taught us anything, it’s that even famous women can be abused by much less famous but nonetheless well-connected men behind the scenes.

But with Reputation, I sense that Swift is finished with that. In her new songs, Swift always has the upper hand. If anyone is going to get broken, it’s the guy in the equation, who’s typically an older (and therefore patriarchal) figure. (“I’ve been breaking hearts for a long time / And toyin’ with them older guys / just playthings for me to use,” she seethes in the dirge-like “Don’t Blame Me.”) If she does decide to settle down, it’s up to the other person to accept her shortcomings, not the other way around. (“Even in my worst times, you could see the best of me,” she sings on “Dress.”) Either way, she gets to be the dominant one, the person who always gets what she wants, including the last word.

After listening to Reputation, I think I understand why Swift’s been seemingly indifferent about her recent bad PR choices, including her threat, via a lawyer, to sue a blogger who criticized her silence on the white supremacist issue. And I get why she’s retreated from the media to the comfort of her massive cult on Tumblr, an audience inclined to perceive her venting and femme-fatale posturing as cathartic, rather than merely petulant.

If Reputation had a nutgraf, it would be, “Why should I have to explain myself?” To Swift, going through the paces of tending to her “perfect” public image seemingly provokes the most resentment of all, since it only seems to make people expect even more from her. Haven’t they already taken enough?

Uproxx

#taylor swift uproxx

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ourimpavidheroine · 7 years

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since you posted a playlist how about which songs your characters (OC and canon) would karaoke to? (adults obvs)

Oh, I had to go and make myself a cup of coffee before I tackled this one! I love it when you all send me these fun asks, I really do.

I mean, we’re assuming that for most of them it’s either tipsy or downright drunk Karaoke, right? Or at least I am assuming, based on my own experiences.

Also, this is AU obviously, which I normally don’t do but fuck it, I’m doing it with this one.

So lessee…a bar in Republic City one late night…

Wu would croon along to My Way in the most off-key caterwauling way ever. He would not give a shit at all that people were cringing and ordering new drinks because he is a Hou-Ting, thank you very much, and he expects that people will put up with him at all times, including when he is assaulting their ears.

I’ve loved, I’ve laughed and criedI’ve had my fill, my share of losingAnd now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusingTo think I did all thatAnd may I say, not in a shy wayOh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way

Not in a shy way indeed.

Mako would down his fire whiskey in one gulp, stand up, and do a surprisingly bluesy version of Smokestack Lightnin’. He would do it with feeling. The room would get instantly hotter.

Whoa-oh, stop your trainLet a poor boy rideWhy don’t ya hear me cryin’?Whoo-hooo, whoo-hoooWhooo

He might unconsciously grind his hips a little. Nuo would fan herself and take him up a few notches on her Exceptions List.

Qi would do a smoldering whisper-sing to My Heart Belongs To Daddy and Mako would slam three shots in succession while glaring furiously at the little stage area. There would be lots of whistles of appreciation and a man who showed a little too much appreciation would get such a look from Mako that he would scuttle back over to the other side of the room.

Though I’m in love, I’m not aboveA date with a duke or a caddieIt’s just a pose, ‘cause my baby knowsThat my heart belongs to daddy

When people notice that the two of them have disappeared after Qi’s done and ask Wu about it Wu would merely sip at his drink and blandly say he was sure they’d be back soon. They would slink back in eventually, looking slightly worse for the wear. Wu is completely unruffled by this.

Nuo belts out Respect, of course. She does quite a bit of strutting during the bridge, which gets appreciative cheers from the crowd. Wing joyfully sings along with her in the audience.

I ain’t gonna do you wrong while you’re goneAin’t gonna do you wrong ‘cause I don’t wanna All I’m askin' Is for a little respect when you come home Baby when you get home

When she’s done she gets a huge round of applause and he yells louder for her than anyone else and kisses her when she sits back down in his lap, laughing.

Wing croons out This I Promise You and he only has eyes for Nuo. He’s got the best singing voice out of all of them and he sings it with such love and tenderness that there are handkerchiefs whipped out by many, including Wu.

I’ve loved you forever,In lifetimes beforeAnd I promise you never…Will you hurt anymoreI give you my wordI give you my heart This is a battle we’ve wonAnd with this vow,Forever has now begun…

When he’s done he sits back down next to her and she wraps her arms around him and if her eyes are a little wet everyone pretends they don’t notice.

Wei sings You Shook Me All Night Long, changing the gender, of course. He dances around a lot. Does air guitar, goes without saying. He’s clearly having such a good time that everyone sings along to the chorus.

I’m working double time on the seduction lineHe’s one of a kind he’s just mine all mineWanted no applause it’s just another courseMade a meal outta meAnd come back for moreHad to cool me down to take another roundNow I’m back in the ring to take another swingCause the walls were shaking the earth was quakingMy mind was achingAnd we were making it

Sadly, there is no Sitiak there to be impressed with his performance.

Korra’s next and she screeches out Rebel Girl with more feeling than skill. Asami blushes. Korra gets so enthusiastic that she accidentally kicks over a speaker and it makes terrible feedback, but she just keeps going.

That girl thinks she’s the queen of the neighborhoodI got news for you, she is!They say she’s a dyke, but I knowShe is my best friend, yeah

After she’s done Asami is still blushing a little but is also clearly pleased. Everyone tries to get her to get up and sing next but she turns them down. Wei orders her another drink.

Opal busts into Shake It Off, awkward dancing and all. She’s a little nervous and a little drunk and she gets a little giggly. Her brothers all shout encouragement. Bolin leaps up and points at her and informs everyone in the bar, a huge smile on his face, that she’s his wife.

Cause the players gonna play, play, playAnd the haters gonna hate, hate, hateBaby I’m just gonna shake, shake, shakeShake it off. Shake it offHeartbreakers gonna break, break, breakAnd the fakers gonna fake, fake, fakeBaby I’m just gonna shake, shake, shakeShake it off, Shake it off

When she’s done, Bolin tells her she’s the best singer in the whole world. He means it, too.

It’s Bolin’s turn and he says “I’m singing this for my brother and my wife and kids, my Mama used to sing this to Mako and me when we were little,” and shocks everyone by singing Bridge Over Troubled Water. The entire bar goes silent. Opal cries all over everything. Mako clears his throat a lot and refuses to make eye contact with anyone.

When you’re down and outWhen you’re on the streetWhen evening falls so hardI will comfort you I’ll take your part, oh, when darkness comesAnd pain is all aroundLike a bridge over troubled waterI will lay me downLike a bridge over troubled waterI will lay me down

After he’s done he gets the most heartfelt applause of the night. There are no dry eyes.

Baatar Jr stands up and says something about not making people cry, and he launches into the most soulful rendition of Too Hard To Handle ever. He bumps and grinds, grinning the entire time at Ikki, who whoops and laughs her appreciation. By the end the rest of the bar has gotten into it as well, whistling through their teeth and stomping their feet.

Boys are things that come by the dozenThat ain’t nothin’ but drugstore lovin’Hey little thing let me light your candle‘Cause mama I’m sure hard to handle nowYes, I am

“I never knew your brother had it in him,” Korra whispers to Opal and Opal snorts and says, “Please, he’s a Beifong.” He sits back down next to Ikki and looks very pleased with himself. She kisses him until someone yells, “Get a room!”

Huan stands up, his eyes blinking rapidly, grabs the mic and says, “They don’t have the one I want to sing,” and then launches into an a cappella version of Be Prepared.

Be prepared! that’s the boy scouts’ solemn creed,Be prepared! and be clean in word and deed.Don’t solicit for your sister, that’s not nice,Unless you get a good percentage of her price.

When he’s done his siblings, Wu and Ikki are laughing wildly. Everyone else in the bar looks like they are not quite sure what to do.

Ikki gets up there, winks, and launches into Pony. The bar goes absolutely fucking bananas. She sells the shit out of it, too, getting off the stage and slinking around the audience. She even gives Nuo a little bit of a lap dance. (Nuo immediately bumps someone else off her Exceptions List and adds Ikki.)

If we’re gonna get nasty, babyFirst we’ll show and tellTill I reach your ponytailLurk all over and through you babyUntil we reach the streamYou’ll be on my jockey team

When’s she’s done she primly takes her seat and pretends to be surprised at all of the fuss. “I fucking love you,” Baatar says into her ear. “I know,” she replies, and looks very smug.

Yumi’s up next and since she can’t sing her way out of a paper bag she talks her way through Rock Lobster. Korra leaps up onto the stage with her and does all of the background OOs and SCOOBYDOOs and AAAAAAHs, joined by Ikki, Bolin and Wei. Most of the audience obligingly goes down down down with the music, and by the end most of the bar is surfing along with the music as well.

Motion in the ocean (Ooh ah)His air hose broke (Hoo ah)Lots of trouble (Ooh ah)Lots of bubble (Hoo ah)He was in a jam (Ooh ah)He’s in a giant clam! (Hoo ah)

She brings the bar to its feet.

Asami is finally convinced to get up there. (Mostly because Wei’s been getting her liquored up.) She sings along to She Works Hard For The Money. It takes her a little while to get into it, but everyone is very encouraging and she loosens up and has some fun by the end. Every time she sings “She works hard for the money,” Korra belts out, “So hard for it, honey!” in return, grinning.

She works hard for the moneySo hard for it, honeyShe works hard for the moneySo you better treat her right

She gets a large round of applause when she’s done and she sits back down. “Okay, that was pretty fun,” she says to Korra, and Korra just kisses her.

Meelo’s the last one of their group, and he rips into Revolution with some feeling.

You say you want a revolutionWell, you knowWe all want to change the worldYou tell me that it’s evolutionWell, you knowWe all want to change the worldBut when you talk about destructionDon’t you know that you can count me out

When he’s done, Korra slings and arm around him and hugs him tightly. “I’ll talk to him,” she says, but Meelo just shrugs. “It won’t do any good.”

They aren’t done: Ikki and Nuo and Korra and Wei do an impromptu version of Lady Marmalade which ends up in Wei falling off the stage and Wu and Yumi sing Over The Rainbow together and it is so bad it’s actually sort of good (only not really) and everyone gets into some Bohemian Rhapsody (while letting Wing carry all of the actual tricky singing parts) and it’s a good thing that everyone has taken cabs to the bar because no one should be driving home at that point.

#my fanfiction #karaoke selections #Impavid gets silly on Sunday morning with a cup of coffee and a chicken salad sandwich #Anonymous

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