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queensusanthemagnificent · 4 years ago

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It’s Gushing About Cinderella 1997 Time Again

Okay, so instead of color theory, today, I’m looking at Cinderella’s journey with trust, the Prince’s inability to recognize her at the ball, and how that aspect of the original fairytale got utilized to further along the theme of learning to trust people to love you for who you are.

Part 1: The Prince Meets Cinderella

When the prince meets Cinderella just after The Sweetest Things, there is no magic involved at all, and he’s IMMEDIATELY smitten with her. Just thinks she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen and makes no bones about trying to figure out how to ask her out even after she’s excused herself to go about her day. Cinderella is visibly uncomfortable with the attention, but doesn’t completely turn him away. We know from The Sweetest Things that she WANTS love, that she yearns for it even, but the moment someone turns around and gives it to her, she doesn’t seem to know what to do with it anymore. She’s mostly confused by the prince’s behavior, but ultimately gains enough confidence and chutzpah to call him out on continuing to pester her even when she’s made it fairly clear she’s not interested by asking him if he even knows how to treat a woman.

And of course has her iconic line:

He sticks his foot in his mouth right after by saying she’s “not like most girls” which I will somewhat excuse as we know the prince has grown up massively sheltered and has likely not spoken to many women outside of the trappings of nobility who are all attempting to gain his or his parents’ favor, particularly as a suitor (we also know from a later scene that his mother has been attempting to set him up for a while and this is likely how he has met most women he’s ever interacted with).

Cinderella chooses to be forgiving and admits that she’s led a fairly sheltered life, thus how she’s gained her opinions I suppose, and the prince admits the same and they really seem to connect TOGETHER for the first time before the stepmother interrupts. Despite her choice to try to walk away from the prince when he initially showed interest in her, Cinderella risks her stepmother’s impatience and irritation by turning back one last time to watch the prince leave. She WANTS love, she WANTS to trust that someone could be interested in her like this, but she doesn’t completely trust it to happen or to last.

Part 2: The Prince sees Cinderella at the Ball

The next time the prince sees Cinderella is at the ball. He’s just spent the last several hours making nice with a bunch of women he doesn’t know and isn’t interested in so he can appease his mother. Presumably, he could probably expect the girl he met in the marketplace a few days ago might make an appearance given that the invite went out to all the girls in the kingdom, but he never mentions it. While it was clearly a nice connection to make in the moment, he seems to mostly chalk it up to a successful trip to the village, made nicer by a pretty girl and doesn’t think much about it afterwards, esp since the problem of the ball comes up immediately and his attention gets derailed.

In other words, the prince is not thinking about Cinderella anymore. Not maliciously, but he’s got other things on his mind, so when she shows up and he doesn’t recognize her despite having flirted with her only a few days ago, it’s somewhat understandable. Plus, she’s all made up with a completely different hairstyle and a nice dress and they have only met ONCE, for a few minutes total, several days ago.

But, that being said, while he doesn’t recognize her, he IS once again immediately smitten with her, and he does have that sense of familiarity, he just can’t place where. The problem then comes when he starts to try to guess how he knows her.

His guesses are all related to Cinderella being rich and/or nobility like him rather than considering that commoner girl he flirted with in the marketplace only a few days ago. Cinderella reacts fairly kindly to those guesses, telling him that she can’t swim, so she wouldn’t have been at the lake that summer, or that she’s never been to the mountains where his lodge is. But these assumptions eventually feed into Cinderella’s feelings of inadequacy and her fears that he won’t care for her when he finds out who she really is despite his initial reaction to her in the marketplace.

She starts to get flustered again when he calls her beautiful and her attention is drawn to how everyone around her is looking at them, but is effectively distracted by the Prince beginning to sing and only becomes flustered again once the King and Queen decide to insert themselves into the situation and get to know her and the reality of what seems to be happening hits her. She just intended to go to a fun party and dance a little, but now she’s gotten the attention of the Prince and it’s coming back to her that the point of the ball was for the Prince to find a WIFE. But she can tell, both from the Prince’s earlier comments and the ones made by the King and Queen asking who she is and who her family is, that they’re assuming things about her status that aren’t true.

Cinderella wants to keep living in a fantasy, though, where a Prince could love someone like her, so every time her reality comes into the conversation, she tries to move the conversation away. She wants to live in the bubble of romance the Prince is creating for her rather than talking about her family or what he wants in a wife.

And it works, right up until the clock strikes midnight and that reality crashes down on her like an avalanche.

Despite everything they’ve talked about that night, about how he knows she’s The One despite just having met her, about what he wants in a wife and how she seems to fit that description, about their feelings, Cinderella does not trust that he’s going to like her once he finds out who she is. Because despite how much time they’ve spent with each other (which, according to clock, is about 45 minutes now), he hasn’t recognized her as the girl from the marketplace ONCE.

Cinderella herself never mentions whether she recognizes the Prince from the marketplace or not, but we can fairly safely assume that she does. That moment meant a LOT to her, it was likely the first friendliness she had been shown in a while, especially by a stranger, and it hit her like a ton of bricks. It showed her that someone COULD be interested in her for who she is, could grow to love her.

And of course, meeting the Prince’s family at the ball gives her a sense of what it would be like to be part of HIS family, a family that already does seem to like her well enough and clearly care about their son. It’s everything she’s ever dreamed of having, but they all believe her to be something she isn’t, and she can’t trust that they’d treat her the same if they knew. So instead of risking it all for love, for that dream, she runs again. She’d rather leave it one really good night and a lifelong what-if than get rejected one more time.

Cinderella runs home, back to what she knows, back to what’s comfortable. In the “Do I Want You” reprise, Cinderella appears wistful, but resigned. The Prince, on the other hand, seems almost more confident and determined. He’s smiling at the empty courtyard, even before he sees the shoe left behind. Cinderella is prepared to let everything go, but the Prince no longer is. She told him at the ball is that the problem with most people is that they only dream about things without ever doing anything about it.

So he does. He commits himself to finding her, even WITHOUT the shoe, he’s committed to finding her.

Part 3: The Prince Finds Cinderella

Obviously, the fact that the Prince has the need to go out and have everyone try on the shoe means he still has no idea who Cinderella is. He never asks her name at the ball, so he hasn’t connected her to the girl from the marketplace who DID tell him her name. He can’t just go into the village and ask for “Cinderella” yet. But the fact that he goes INTO the village at all means he has recognized that this girl could be literally anyone, commoner or nobility, and it doesn’t matter to him which it is. He’s making no assumptions about her identity anymore.

And then he sees her. In an obvious throwback to their first meeting, he finds her having just dropped all of her belongings in front of a carriage because it moved in front of her a little quickly.

Backing up, though. Cinderella’s gone through an entire journey during this time period. She left the Prince behind at the ball, ready to leave that dream behind as “impossible.” And gives it one last go with the family she was left with, trying to connect with them, be a part of it. And it fails. Again.

But it gives her the strength to realize that this was never going to work. And while she doesn’t believe she can be what a Prince wants, she DOES believe she deserves to be loved and deserves better than what her stepmother is dishing out.

So, the next day, while the Prince is out with a glass slipper, going through every eligible girl in the kingdom trying to find her, Cinderella is preparing to leave her childhood home and set out on her own. Even when she ostensibly DOES hear the Prince in the house, trying on the slipper with her family, she chooses not to make herself known to him, and walks away.

But not quite fast enough and the Prince sees her.

She is once again dressed as a commoner with no magic involved, and this time, the Prince immediately recognizes her both as the woman from the marketplace AND the woman from the ball. From behind. By referencing their first meeting where he initially made his interest known, he indicates that he still likes her despite now knowing her background, and perhaps even BECAUSE he now knows her background as the first woman he ever met who truly understood how he felt and treated him like a person, with kindness and respect, rather than like a Prince.

Cinderella has a choice here. He recognizes her, yes, but she doesn’t have to play along. She doesn’t have to turn around and admit to anything, she COULD, presumably, choose to keep running. But the fact that he RECOGNIZES her, finally, and still wants her, gives her just enough courage to turn around and trust him and confirm her identity, both as the girl in the marketplace and the girl who fits the slipper.

And it pays off. Trusting someone to love you as you are, having the courage to actually go after your dream, to let it come true, pays off.

Have I mentioned how much I love this movie recently? Because this is PEAK Cinderella, and I love this movie.

#cinderella 1997 #whitney houston #cinderella #rodgers and hammerstein cinderella #brandy norwood #paolo montalban #whoopi goldberg #victor garber

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peachyysugaa · 4 years ago

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enhypen members on a café date ☕️♡ requested by anon

– heeseung

what kind of café he takes you to: his local favorite, it's on the cozier or quieter size, which gives him the privacy to spend quality time with you~

the menu: now serving your favorite coffees, teas, and sandwiches! from iced americanos to milk teas (bubbles/boba if you want) to paninis, this café has got all the regulars. what would you like to order? ♥

activities you do: while the two of you should probably go to a gaming café for this, you and heeseung always sit in a more private booth/area side-by-side and play multiplayer games on his switch. if you're not gaming, the two of you casually talk about your days while sipping your drinks, resting your head on his shoulder or working on your respective things, schoolwork maybe for you or producing for heeseung.

short blurb: "heeseung, you let me win." "no, you're just really good at this game, love." (˶◡‿◡) you just laugh and roll your eyes, pinching his cheeks before resting your head on his shoulder in the middle of your favorite booth, in your favorite café that was filled with precious memories.

rest of the members under the cut! <3

what kind of café he takes you to: either the most expensive café ever or the most aesthetic (which tends to be pretty expensive anyway), you already saw this coming because we all on that rich boy!jay agenda.

the menu: how do you even pronounce most of these drinks? ಠωಥ is that a caviar-flavored drink LOL say sike 🅱ls ‼ ahem, so order something familiar to you or let jay pick something for you (it might be expensive, but that's okay let him spoil you 🥺 you deserve it, king/queen/royalty)

activities you do: jay loves listening to your day, and you love listening to his. he often likes to tell you about new things he's learned, and you watch as his eyes brighten over these, loving every sparkle. with jay, i don't see him going to the same cafés all the time: he likes to explore, so the only thing that's consistent is the amount of quality time you two spend together.

short blurb: "jay..!" "hm? what's up? is something wrong with your drink?" "no, it's just...?" you take a second to think about your phrasing before you answer. "is there supposed to be gold foiling on this?" "oh yeah, it's on trend now, babe. i heard it tastes as expensive as it looks." "and as it costs?" 🤨 "don't worry about it, y/n. this is my treat for you since you've been working harder than usual these days." (۶ •̀ᴗ•́)۶

– jake

what kind of café he takes you to: a dog café, let's be honest he really wants to pet dogs and he would get along so well with them. it's the golden retriever energy 🤩

the menu: aside from dog treats to feed the puppers (not jake), re-energize with refreshing drinks from lemonade to peach tea! the dessert menu also looks enticing, honey brick toast and pancake art shaped like the many dogs that prance around the vicinity.

activities you do: pet and feed the dogs, of course, duh you're at a dog café 🐕 for some reason, they take after jake very well, so well that one is practically attached to the hip with him as he pets it, an australian shepherd. he asks you nicely to take pictures of him with it and you tell on him to layla.

short blurb: "y/n, y/n, look! this one loves me!" "i can see that, jake." "y/n, it's an austalian shepherd, do you think he knows i'm aussie too?" "maybe he does." "take my picture with it?" "oh, so proof for layla that you're cheating on her?" "NOOO LAYLA ㅠㅠ"

– sunghoon

what kind of café he takes you to: a modern chic café. it's got the industrial feel to it and perfectly matches his sophisticated vibes.

the menu: only coffees and plain teas! specializes more in hand brewing coffee and the like. also has some sandwiches or pastries for you to taste.

activities you do: with sunghoon, it's mostly talking. the way you two can talk about anything and everything really makes your relationship so comfortable. you two also watch videos and make side comments here and there together. don't forget to take each other's pictures and selfies together, there is no visual hole here and the setting is perfect, what are you waiting for? 📸

short blurb: "are you getting my good side?" "huh, but every side is your good side." "oh yea, you're right." you shake your head at his way of getting a backhanded compliment and simply snap the picture of him and his coffee. looking at it makes you smile, but he quickly pulls you into his side and holds up his phone. "now time to show off my beautiful s/o."

– sunoo

what kind of café he takes you to: a character café! whether it's kakao or line friends, you two are both there to enjoy the too-cute-to-eat types of food, taking many pictures before savoring it.

the menu: character-themed food and drinks! they're carefully planned out from the ingredients to the witty names, all to match the theme of the café. you order a full course meal with sunoo, sharing your entrees with each other and drinks, so you both have the chance to taste what you can!

activities you do: did you hear me? a full course meal 🗣‼️ you two are eating your weight's worth of food because (1) it's cute and (2) it's expensive! sunoo is a chatterbox, and i just know he scored you two a picture with either one of your favorite characters at a lower price. both of you also take part in any chants cheerfully~

short blurb: "you're as cute as all the characters here, y/nie!" "yah, we're both cuter than all of them, don't lie." "yes, you're right, we would be doing them a favor by taking a picture with one of them." "cheers to us then?" you ask holding your glass already. "cheers~" he replies and clinks yours with his. all of a sudden, your favorite character comes by with your plates of food. enamored, you ask if you and sunoo can take a picture with them, to which the servers agree happily as long as you pay accordingly. the two of you pose to your hearts' content with the cute character. after which, you think sunoo unintentionally charmed the servers to give him a lower price for the photo by signing it and letting them post it somewhere, which you can't help but think is so befitting of him.

– jungwon

what kind of café he takes you to: a cottage-style café or specifically, the sheep café in korea. the latter is actually located in hongdae and literally 2 sheep roam around! (search up thanks nature café) he would just want to touch their fluffy fur 🐑

the menu: very green, as in matcha and mint and pandan and the like. also has some cute garden-themed pastries/drinks like the good ol' throwback, dirt in a cup, (basically some crushed oreos with gummy worms), which jungwon is all over.

activities you do: when one goes to animal cafés, you pet the animals! so pet the sheep you two do, but very cautiously, of course. jungwon tries to ba with them, maybe even asks if they make clothing out of their wool.

short blurb: "do you make anything with their wool?" jungwon suddenly asks the worker nearby. "huh? oh yes, we actually do have some sweaters in store if you would like to see them." "yes please." "alright, one moment please." "wonie, will you actually buy one?" "i mean, yea, who else is able to say that they met the sheep their clothing came from?" it's overly priced, but he buys a scarf anyway and wraps it around the two of you despite it being summertime. "jungwon, it's hot in this!" (/Д`)

– niki

what kind of café he takes you to: manga café or a café with really cool latte art. riki would have fun either way, reading manga together or trying out latte art himself!

the menu: the manga café has all your regulars and even offer comfy snack foods like bungeoppang and ddeokboki! on the other hand, the latte art café really focuses on their art, thanks to the machine that prints out any design you want on top of it (which riki is amazed by).

activities you do: in a manga café, you would have a private room together and just chill and roll around in it. at the latte art café, he's having so much fun seeing all the characters and drawings are put on top, even when they're not his (he orders shin-chan or doraemon). they offer 3d latte art classes and the two of you take one!

short blurb: "y/n, your cat looks funny." "riki, it's deflating :(" "draw the face anyway." "how come yours is so nice?" "oh, i just frothed the milk myself." "what? riki, you are so cool~" he becomes bashful and makes use of his classes by buying the necessary materials to make you different 3d latte arts every day.

a/n: YAYY this was so cute thank you for your request again, anon! <3 i hope you liked it, especially the format hehe

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gravelyhumerus · 5 years ago

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Criminal Minds College AU

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Emily Prentiss, college sophomore, absolutely does not have a crush on the girl across the hall.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come in, it’s open!” Emily Prentiss yelled out over her music blasting out of the laptop on her desk. She was listening to her pregame playlist, which was chock full of throwbacks, middle-school jams and of course, The Killers to keep things interesting.

Derek Morgan pushed open her dorm room door and waltzed in. He had a pair of light blue jeans on, held up by a brown belt, with a white t-shirt on top. He jumped on top of Emily’s slightly-too-high bed, and bounced as he grinned at her. Derek was many things, shy was definitely not one of them.

“You look hot,” Emily said, with as much sarcasm as she could manage, looking him up and down. She could tell he dressed up.

“You know it, princess.”

Rifling through his backpack, he grinned as he pulled out two blue college-branded metal water bottles, filled with what was probably not water at all.

“I made us sangria!”

Emily laughed, then spun back around in her desk chair. She still needed to finish her makeup. She had her foundation and eyebrows done, but she needed to focus as she applied her eyeliner.

“Did you just mix some juice into the wine?” She asked, taking the bottle from him, having a sip of the fruity liquid.

“Yup! There’s going to be a keg there, but I wanted to give us options.”

Emily laughed before focusing on her mascara wand gliding across her lower eyelashes, trying to finish up so they could start preing for the party. She wasn’t quite dressed yet either, still wearing her class jeans and not her going out jeans (there was an important distinction between these that mostly involved whether or not she could wear them with a belt.) Morgan was about five minutes earlier than she expected. Moreover, the boy had only sprung the invitation to the party during their lab that afternoon.

As much as she hated to admit it, Derek was basically 90% of Emily’s non-academic social life, the second year boy already very well connected due to his football scholarship, letting him in on all of the good parties. Unfortunately that also meant for Emily that he would spring themed parties like anything but clothes, or no cups allowed on her with absolutely no heads up most weekends.

Emily will not wear a tote bag as a skirt again if she can help it.

Despite the excessive drinking and mixed bag of party attendees, Emily genuinely enjoyed the boy’s company. Anyways, he was the best beer-pong partner that she’s ever had.

“Can I hop on aux?” He asked, leaning over her computer before she could even protest.

“Sure,” she replied, knowing he was already on his own Spotify account and putting on his playlist titled ‘FOR THE BOYS and emily’ that he found hilarious. She knew she could get him to sing along to the Mamma Mia! (2008) soundtrack once he was a few shots in, but for now she resigned herself to wordless EDM.

He sat on her desk, bobbing his head along to the beat.

Emily reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a smallish bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, with their college’s crest etched into the glass. For a school that denounced drinking-culture, they had a shocking amount of merch for sale that encouraged it.

She filled each to the line, and slid one towards her friend.

“Bottoms up,” she said, as they cheersed the foul tasting liquid. Morgan grinned and winked at her before shooting it back with the confidence that only a nineteen year old could have.

Vodka still made her queasy, but being underage meant that the college students would take what they could get. Morgan’s senior friends would boot alcohol for them for an extra five bucks, but only every few weeks.

The one thing about the states that Emily still couldn’t wrap her head around was the backwards alcohol policy. Almost everywhere else on earth she would already be legally drinking. Hell, when she was 16 she was passed out in a ditch in rural England, drunk off her ass on legally acquired beer. Even now, if they drove north of the border, Emily could be off to the bars, no questions asked. America was absurd.

“How was the rest of your day?” Emily asked him as she stood up, digging through her dirty laundry to find her other pair of jeans. She tossed aside her fuzzy pjs, a bra and an assortment of band tees but her jeans must’ve been at the bottom. She needed to do laundry but was ripe out of quarters.

“Eh,” he made a face, “I had to finish up that quiz for psych, but honestly I just needed to catch up on some readings. I had like fifty pages of a badly scanned book from like a hundred years ago to annotate.”

“Reading? In this economy?” Emily snarked at him, still rooting through the bin. She knew her blue jeans were here somewhere.

“Well I know you can’t read,” he replied in a haughty tone, “doesn’t mean the rest of us have to remain unenlightened!”

“Ha-ha.”

There they were, right at the bottom of the bin. She changed right then, with Morgan politely averting his eyes, despite the fact that both have seen just about everything in the year or so that they’ve been acquainted.

No, they didn’t hook up or anything, it wasn’t like that.

It was the strange phenomenon that only could happen in college where you get really close really fast. Emily’s RA had explained it to their first-year floor, likening it to soldiers in the war (Emily wasn’t sure if the metaphor was kosher, but it was apt.). Young adults first starting out in the world, free from their family supervision and previous lives, cling on to those around them for stability. The RA explained this as in a cautionary tale, explaining that this can lead to high emotions, to fights, and… a bit more.

This talk led into their floor-cest talk, which was apparently required in every co-ed dorm at their school. Emily was the first to point out the heteronormativity in that policy. Floor-cest, for the uninitiated, was the concept of hooking up with someone on your floor in the dorm. It was formally discouraged by residence life staff. It was easy to have meaningless sex, harder when you have sex with someone you live down the hall from. Things could get messy.

Emily and Derek got this talk on move in day, both sitting cross-legged on the floor of their common room as their RA, a bubbly girl named Carol, explained the fundamentals of dorm life. Emily has been dropped off by her mother’s driver, who helped her unload her things.

Emily was still reeling from being surrounded by happy families, of crying parents and bitter that her mother was too busy to even send her own daughter off to school. Not that Emily wanted her there or anything, but the gesture would have been nice.

She remembered the startling moment when Derek walked straight into her room and offered his hand, introducing himself to his new neighbour.

They shared a wall, the co-ed bathroom down the hall, and most of their free time for their first year at college.

He had assumed that the driver, Paul who was one of Emily’s favourites out of her mother’s staff, was Emily’s father, which started things off on an awkward note. Soon she was swept up in a whirlwind of his family: his mom and sisters who insisted that Emily pose for photos of Derek and ‘his new dorm friend.’

A year later, Emily and Morgan were basically siblings. Emily didn’t actually have any siblings, but after going to Chicago for thanksgiving with the Morgan family, she was pretty sure she had officially been adopted.

Last year, they had a much nicer dorm, one of the newer ones with big windows and nice common spaces. This year they were both living in the oldest residence, a beautiful red brick building, covered with ivy, but the inside was all painted this gross beige, and the paint would chip off whenever Emily tried to hang her posters. There was also no air conditioning, the showers didn’t get too hot and the kitchen smelt like eggs. It was definitely a downgrade, but at least Morgan was on the same floor as her again.

Morgan had lucked out and gotten a corner room with tons of windows, and Emily was right next to the bathroom and could hear when anyone flushed.

After donning the jeans and a black tank top, Emily grabbed her leather jacket and they were ready to go.

“Another shot?” Derek asked, grinning at her mischievously.

“Of course,” Emily said. “Where are we even going anyways?”

“Well, you remember David, the TA from our psych lab? His housemates are throwing a party in their backyard. I heard there was going to be a DJ!”

“David Rossi?” Emily said incredulously, “How did you swing an invite to that?”

“I can’t reveal all of my secrets, you know that pretty lady.”

Emily scoffed. It was probably through their mutual friend Aaron Hotchner, who despite not being much of a partier, was very in the loop about the happenings on campus.

“Did you invite you know who?” Derek asked, a bit too casually as Emily locked her door.

Emily refused to bite.

“She definitely has better things to do than hang out with the likes of us.”

---

“I’m a criminology major,” Emily repeated, the exasperation in her voice palatable.

The boy, who was on the rugby team as she already learned, had asked her what her major was. He misheard her and began asking her how she likes studying biology.

The music was loud and the boy was clearly wasted off his ass. She was pretty sure she saw him do a keg stand in the kitchen earlier.

Emily took another sip of her drink, keeping it close to her chest. She looked around. They were only five minutes off campus at a decent-sized student house. The room was close to being at capacity, the old home creaking under the weight of dozens of students crammed into the living room. Music blared on a strangely impressive speaker system. The party was at its peak in the backyard, and was probably only an hour from being shut down by the cops if it got much louder.

Emily had carefully positioned herself next to the open window, enjoying the slight breeze as the body heat was making the old house steamy with humidity. This also happened to be the location of the bong, but she accepted the trade-off.

Derek was currently playing king’s cup, a game Emily refuses to play, since last time she got roped into it she lost miserably. She was forced to drink the king’s cup: a mixture of shitty beer, whiskey, cider wine and whole cream from the fridge, as she had been a bit too slow with bouncing the ball into the red solo cup. Derek held her hair back as she puked off the porch that night.

Never again.

Emily squinted as a few people she recognized walked into the room. It was only a month into classes, so she really hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the new random assortment of people in her building, lectures and in her general orbit but she was pretty sure she was starting to recognize some faces.

Entering the party was the blonde from the end of the hallway who always complimented Emily on her outfits when she passed and had the most colourfully decorated dorm in the entire building. ‘Penelope G.’ read her name tag pinned to her door in their RA’s loopy handwriting.

Next to her was a younger boy that she had seen in the cafeteria with Penelope before, and while Emily wasn’t that good at identifying ages, he definitely looked a bit too young to be at college. He was tall, skinny and had a mop of unruly brown hair. He was also wearing a sweater to a house party, which was a major beginners mistake. He looked around nervously.

A few seconds later, the door closed, only dumping an assortment of other boys into the already packed house.

Emily let out a breath she didn’t know she held, as she found herself hoping that Garcia’s other friend might have been joining her that night.

Derek had teased her already about the girl across the hall. Jennifer Jareau. “My friends call me JJ,” she had said. Second year varsity soccer player and communications major. The girl Derek was convinced that Emily had a crush on.

JJ was the kind of girl who propped her door open during orientation week and always waved at Emily when she walked down the hall.

She did not have a crush. She barely knew anything about her besides that she was blonde, athletic and was always smiling. Both had been so busy since school had started, and seemed to have completely opposite schedules that they hadn’t really gotten to really connect.

Whenever Emily was coming back to their floor, JJ always seemed to be leaving. And vice versa. Somehow they were on exact opposite schedules. Probably since JJ was a varsity soccer player with early morning practise, and Emily was a bit of a night owl (that was a polite way of saying insomniac procrastinator perfectionist.)

She seemed to hang out with Garcia around residence, Emily having spotted the two getting coffee or studying in the library together occasionally, hence Emily’s hopes that Garcia may have JJ in tow that evening.

JJ was also definitely, one hundred percent, completely straight. Fairy lights and Polaroid pictures on her walls straight. She even had a high school sweetheart that might survive the turkey dumping season. Emily didn’t know his name but JJ said the key word early on in the year: boyfriend.

Emily turned back to the boy in front of her, who was describing, in detail, how the stock market worked, without realizing that Emily was not paying attention at all.

He was quite conventionally attractive, with mussed curly hair and broad shoulders. He obviously was interested in her—or rather interested in talking at her and potentially sleeping with her—that despite herself, Emily decided to slot him into her roster for that evening.

Emily considered herself a reluctant bisexual. Women could make her heart skip a beat just by looking in her direction, and men could get it when the situation was right and she didn’t have any other options. The second half of this pleased her mother to no end, as when young fourteen year old Emily Prentiss had decided to come out to her mother—at one of their rare dinners together—she watched her mother grit her teeth and tell her to keep that to herself. Her mother had eventually accepted this part of her daughter’s life, but only under the assumption that Emily would eventually end up with a man, and keep the rest to herself.

Emily looked around the room and wondered if she was going to have any other options that evening besides the very talkative boy.

Excusing herself from the company of…Matthew, she thinks was his name, she tries to find Derek, who had disappeared into the kitchen. Emily weaved through the crowd, steering past a couple making out in the corner.

She turned the corner and found Derek filling his cup with more beer from the keg. He grinned up at her and did the same for her.

“I hate beer,” Emily said to him, grimacing at the scratchy taste of the fermented barley in her red solo cup.

“Suck it up buttercup, you’re in college. You also complained about the juice from earlier.”

“Yeah well, watering down eleven percent wine is as bad as this five percent crap.”

“It did taste a lot better,” he agreed. “Who was that guy?”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Matthew attempted to explain macroeconomics to me.”

“Oh god, is that what men are like out there?” He asked. “Guess you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“Lucky me.”

“Pong?” He asked, gesturing towards the row of tables set up in the backyard, through the open door and passed the crowd milling about near the speakers. The game seemed to be wrapping up, as the two teams shook hands and reset the cups to their original positions.

“Always.”

They found their spot at one of the tables across from their new opponents: Penelope and her very young looking friend.

“Penelope Garcia?” Derek grinned, recognizing the girl from their floor and walking up to her for a hug. Their rooms were facing each other, and they had apparently gotten the chance to get to know each other.

She grinned and hugged him, clearly a lot more sober than him having only arrived minutes earlier. There seemed to be a lot of hugging at house parties, Emily discovered when she moved to America, acquaintances became close friends once alcohol was involved.

She had bright pink glasses and a matching dress, with bright artfully done make-up highlighting her large smile. Emily knew that she was a CompSci major and had loaded her dorm room desk with monitors and the largest computer set-up that Emily had seen in her life.

“Derek, my love,” Penelope replied, gushing over Emily’s friend in an unexpected, but not unsurprising way. “Fancy meeting you here! And Emily! Have you two met my fine young friend here, Spencer?”

She gestured to the boy, who waved awkwardly.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he said.

“He’s like a boy-genius or something. He already has a degree in mathematics and he’s currently working on his second degree in engineering. Isn’t that très cool? We met at the club fair last week.”

“I’m double majoring in philosophy,” he added.

“How old are you kid?” Morgan asked him, quick to the punch.

“Uh- sixteen?” Spencer seemed to ask, shrinking into himself a bit. “I skipped a couple of grades.”

He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose, a brown sweater with a white shirt collar poking through and had tucked his brown hair behind his ears. He was still taller than Penelope, but the smattering of acne and wide eyes made it clear that he was very much a kid.

“More than a couple!” Morgan exclaimed.

He shrugged.

“Are you in intro to logic with Williams?” Emily asked, realizing that she had recognized him from somewhere.

“Yes, I am. Though I find his repeated chess metaphors a touch reductive.”

“You’re right about that. Like, we get it Willy, you play chess. Big whoop,” Emily said, then introduced herself.

He smiled at her, slightly less awkwardly this time but with a touch more confusion.

“And this is Derek Morgan,” Penelope piped in, “the most gorgeous football player I know.”

“Do you know any other football players?” Spencer asked.

“Now you hush!” She admonished him. “We have a game to play.”

“Do you two have something to drink?” Derek asked them, moving back towards their side of the long fold-up table, which was crudely painted in their schools colours.

Emily took a sip of her beer, wondering if the boy should be drinking.

Penelope babbled about how it was Spencer’s first college party, and how she was so excited that it was this one because look at the pretty string lights decorating the backyard and the fact that there was a keg, like in the movies.

Smiling at her new neighbour, Emily thought that this might also be Penelope's first college party.

Derek returned with a cup of water for Spencer, and some beer for Penelope. Spencer seemed relieved at the gesture, smiling as he took a sip. Emily marvelled at her friend's kindness, despite what anyone said about drinking culture on campuses either way, it was tough to attend a party and not drink, putting his drink in a matching red cup gave him the appearance of participation.

“Do we all know the rules?” Derek asked.

“The question you should ask,” Emily said, “Is if they’re willing to play by your rules.”

Emily had discovered that this game, depending on the people you were playing with, had radically different rules. While the premise of the game remained the same: there were six cups on each side of the table, into which you threw ping pong balls and whenever you got a ball in a cup, that cup was then taken out of the picture until there were no cups left. Depending on who you were playing with, the cups were filled with water or beer (Emily hated when they had beer in them, it make things sticky and it was very unsanitary), there were specific rules to what defined an airball, when one could get balls back, when you could call island and what was a permissible trick shot.

“Ha ha Prentiss,” Derek said to her, rolling the ping pong ball in his hands. “I wanted to know if they had played before.”

“Oh I’ve played before,” Penelope said, “and I am unbeatable.”

She waggled her fingers in a gesture that implied magic was involved.

“It’s simple physics,” Spencer added, “I’ve memorized the rules and common approaches. We’ll be more than fine. ”

“Ok pretty boy, let’s see what you’ve got. Eye to eye?”

Looking into each other’s eyes, rather than at their targets, the two boys aimed at the cups, with only Reid’s making it in.

“What the fuck Morgan,” Emily exclaimed as Penelope and Spencer whooped, “what even was that throw?”

With the other team having won the privilege of starting first, Emily was forced to toss her ball towards Penelope, who took it with a grin.

She threw first, missing the table entirely.

“Air ball!” Derek announced, leaping forward and waving his hands in front of the cups on their side, the rules granting him the ability to defend their territory.

Spencer frowned, apparently perturbed by this turn of events. He stuck out his tongue, aimed, and launched the ball, hitting Morgan right in the chest. The ball bounced off of it and fell straight down into the cup.

Derek’s draw dropped. Spencer and Penelope whooped in excitement.

“Derek, how did you lose us that cup?” Emily whined, pulling one of their cups to the side. One point to Spencer.

Derek, who had something to prove, lined up his shot. He gazed at his targets with the focus of a sniper, dunked the ball into one of their cups, dousing it with water, and rolled it in his hands, giving it a bit more weight. He aimed and fired off a quick shot into the centre-left cup. It spun around in the cup, floating above the water, but fell in. If the other team were crafty, they would have blown into the cup and Derek would have lost the point, but Emily sighed in relief when she realized that despite their first point, they didn’t know the rules well enough to beat the current reigning beer champs.

It was Emily’s turn. She took a gulp of her beer—she would always swear she was better when she was drunk because she didn’t think too hard about it—and threw. It neatly fell into the back right cup, scoring them two points for that round.

“Balls back!” Derek roared in delight.

Penelope tossed them, and the game continued.

They sunk one more shot on their turn. 3-1.

Penelope got another cup, Spencer missed. 3-2.

Derek’s ball bounced out, Emily sank hers. 4-2.

Only minutes later, after playing at breakneck speed, there were three cups left on the table and Derek and Emily were quite drunk, with Penelope not far behind. Reid, still very sober, was matching the duo with intense concentration.

It was his throw, with two cups left until his victory. He shots carefully, sinking it without a splash.

Derek and Emily had one cup to go. He went first, sending one barreling towards the cup. It hit the rim and instead of going in, it bounced towards Emily, who leaped forward and grabbed it before it fell off the table.

“Trick shot!” She yelled. Derek could try again, but only if he does it in an inventive way. At the frat house they spent a lot of time in first year, the only acceptable trick shot (under this house’s rules) was bouncing the ball off a poster of Obama. This time, Derek takes an empty cup, puts the ball in, and uses the cup to aim.

Somehow, it went in.

They leap into the air, yelling with delight. But they hadn’t won yet. The other team still had a redemption shot.

“How ya feeling kid?” Derek taunted, “Wanna give up now, save yourself the embarrassment?”

“Not a chance.”

He squinted at the table, lining up his shot with precision. With his left hand he licked his finger, sticking it up in the air like golfers do to measure the wind. Emily wasn't sure if this was a joke, something to psych Derek out, or something the boy was genuinely able to do. He frowned, seeming to ponder the information.

He aimed. He tossed it. He sunk the redemption shot.

They were in overtime.

“You can do it princess,” Derek told her, watching her with utmost intensity. Emily adjusted her stance, chugging back the last of that glass of beer, feeling the alcohol with greater focus than before.

She glanced around at the other team, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a familiar face looking at her: Jennifer Jareau from residence. Her not crush.

She was looking at her. Watching her play.

A swell of nervousness flooded up through her lungs, and she forced it out by huffing a breath.

She needed another drink. Moreover, she needed to focus.

Emily threw it. If it made it in, then they won. If she missed, Spencer and Garcia had another shot at redemption. They couldn’t lose this, not now, not in front of… uh, everyone. She was definitely not thinking about JJ in this situation. That would be something a frat boy thought about. She didn’t want to win beer pong to impress some girl, she wanted to win because she had pride.

The ball sailed through the air, Emily held her breath. It caught the lip of the cup, teetered. A splash announced that they had won.

Thank god.

With a whoop, realizing what they had done, Emily and Derek roared with joy, jumping into each other and hugging in their celebration. A few onlookers clapped, noticing how close the game had been.

They pulled apart and reached out their hands to their opponents.

“Great game,” Emily said, shaking Spencer's hand, “Really.”

He grinned despite his loss.

“Honestly I understand the principles, it’s simple parabolas and high-school level physics,” he frowned, “Unfortunately, I need to work on translating those parabolas into the real world.”

“We’ll work on it Spence,” Garcia grinned, shaking Emily’s hand while smiling at her younger friend.

Emily realized that in their celebration, Derek had spilled quite a bit of beer onto Emily’s sleeve and down the side of her shirt and it was currently dripping onto her boots. Emily sighed, handing her friend her cup.

“I’ve got beer all over me,” Emily sighed, “Get me a refill? I’m going to try to find a bathroom.”

Derek nodded and turned back to their new friends, chatting about how impressed he was with their game.

Emily felt a bit sticky, feeling the beer coat her bare arm. Walking back into the house, she glanced at the kitchen sink trying to see if there was any paper towel or something there, but no luck. The sink was full of dishes, the counters covered in assorted empties and cups, without a dishcloth in sight. Not wanting to rifle through their drawers, she made her way towards the staircase.

There was a couple making out on the staircase, which was not something Emily would do herself. It seemed a bit precarious since alcohol was involved, but, to each their own, she thought. Emily opened a couple of the doors upstairs before discovering one of the most disgusting washrooms she’d ever seen.

There was only one thing in the shower: dawn dish soap. The boys who lived here must use that for their bodies. Emily shuddered. On the sink were some toothbrushes, razors and some floss, but for some reason, no soap. Emily found a roll of toilet paper on the floor (ew), and wadded it up to try to reduce the wet spot on her side and hopefully from smelling like a brewery when she returned to residence.

For a moment, Emily found herself gazing at herself in the mirror, feeling hazy and a bit unsteady. She checked her make-up, noting that her dark red lipstick was holding up, but her mascara had smudged under her eyes giving her more of a goth vibe than the alt look she typically went for.

Emily sat down on the tub, patting the toilet paper against her wet clothing, feeling very drunk now that she was seated. Dammit Morgan, couldn’t he have spilled his beer on himself instead of her nice shirt?

The thud of the music was muffled, but there was a ringing in her ears that made everything feel very quiet. That was until there was a thundering of footsteps and the sound of a girl announcing: “I’m going to vom, right now.”

Emily sat, jaw dropped, as a red headed girl threw open the bathroom door, kneeled down on the floor next to the toilet, and relieved herself from the contents of her stomach without so much as a knock. The girl coughed into the bowl, yacking up what was probably way too much beer for the poor tiny girl.

“Oh my gosh,” said another voice, at the door, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize there was someone here! ”

Emily looked up, realizing the voice came from no other than Jennifer Jareau.

“JJ!” Emily said, not really knowing what else to do with the girl heaving at her feet.

“You ok?” JJ kneeled down next to her friend, carefully pulling her friend’s long hair back, tugging a hair tie off her own wrist and collecting it so that it didn’t get anything on it.

Emily felt stupid sitting on the tub, not helping anything. She tossed the rest of the toilet paper in the garbage, placing the half-empty roll on the edge of the tub.

“Can I get her some water?” Emily asked, “To rinse her mouth?”

JJ looked up at her and nodded. Emily felt herself blushing slightly as she turned away. Who let one girl’s eyes be so big, and so blue. It was rude.

She returned a minute later having had to rinse her own beer cup out in the gross kitchen sink to make sure that she wasn’t accidentally giving this girl some random person's sketchy cup.

Emily remembered that earlier Derek said that it was a varsity party, so it did make sense that JJ was also in attendance. The whole team probably was. The other girl looked like a soccer player, she had that vibe.

Emily handed the cup to JJ, who gave her a grateful smile. Emily felt their fingers touch for a moment, before JJ turned to attend to her friend.

She tried to get her to take a sip, and Emily took the moment to look JJ up and down, taking in her light blue skinny jeans, black tank and high heeled boots. She was basically wearing the uniform of a straight white girl at a houseparty. Not to say Emily wasn’t also basically wearing the same outfit, pairing the jeans with combat boots and attempting to set herself apart with her black nail polish and eyeliner that her mother once called ‘a lot.’

In contrast to Emily’s fairly undefined thin body, she took note of the strong looking shoulders that flexed as JJ kneeled down on the floor. She was definitely an athlete. Emily looked away, checking her phone, feeling suddenly embarrassed for looking at the girl.

‘Where u go bbg????’ Read a new message from Derek.

‘Girl puknigh up hre’ Emily typed, ‘Got her waterr’

Emily blinked at her typos, pressing the red underlined words, hoping her phone would correct them for her. She wasn’t that drunk.

The two girls were talking quietly, and Emily decided to take her leave, but before she could the red-head beat her to the punch deciding that she wanted to puke in peace.

“Leave me aloooooonnne Jennifer,” she wined. “Get out, I don’t want any more fucking water.”

JJ pulled back, making a face and holding her hands up in the ‘I surrender’ motion. Emily hurried out into the hall with JJ on her heels. The girl kicked the door shut angrily, and the sound of her retching ensued.

“There was a funnel,” JJ offered as an explanation. She leaned against the door. “How has your night been?”

Emily blinked. JJ was making conversation. She didn’t want Emily to leave just yet.

“So far so good,” Emily replied. “Doing better than your friend, at least.”

“That’s not hard to do. So I guess you didn’t chug from a funnel yet?” JJ quipped, smiling and revealing a perfect, white smile.

“Oh I have that scheduled for one-thirty, actually,” Emily said, pretending to check her watch and grinning.

“Let me know before you do, I’d like to watch that,” JJ said casually.

A wave of heat rushed to Emily’s face as she realized that drinking from a funnel would entail Emily on her knees, with JJ watching her… a thought that she needed to push out of her brain immediately.

“I’ll have you know,” Emily said in retort, “I can chug amongst the best. I am no stranger to these sorts of parties.”

JJ grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“I’m a reigning beer pong champ, I’ll have you know.”

They laughed.

“I saw your last victory. Very impressive.”

JJ, in a controlled fall, slid down the door and sat down in the hall, resigning herself to waiting for her friend. Emily wondered if she should return to Morgan now, but unable to tear herself away from the opportunity for a conversation with JJ.

“I’m awful at pong,” the blonde admitted. “I miss every time.”

“You probably just need a good teacher.”

JJ raised her eyebrows, “oh yeah?”

“I mean,” Emily said, sitting down onto the top step of the staircase, facing her floormate, “it’s all about hand eye coordination. It’s basically a sport. You need a coach.”

They both laughed.

“Well if that’s the case, why don’t you teach me?”

Emily gulped.

The door opened, and JJ fell back slightly before catching herself.

“I’m going home,” JJ’s friend announced.

JJ looked up at her dishevelled friend and nodded, turning back to look at Emily apologetically.

“Another time?” Emily offered, smiling before walking down the stairs and rejoining the party.

Next chapter ->

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #criminal minds au #queerminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jemily fanfiction #my post #my writing #this is going to be a LONG one #mostly fluff #i love college au #gravelyhumerus cm college au

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marveloussupernerd · 5 years ago

Note

I loved the platonic Zen one so much! Would you want to wrrite it from Zen's pOV and he is in love with MC? He would be just staring at her and in love with her but MC is too drunk to notice? Thanks!

Uhm this is literally such a cute idea !? I’ve never written from Zen’s POV and first person makes me feel silly... but let’s throwback to English terms I’m going to use third person limited to him :)) I hope that works for you

Wtf is this POV. Idk. I always refer to the lovely reader as “you.” Today you are “she/her.” If you want something gender neutral feel free to request ! Also I’m sorry if this sucks I’m playing around with points of view

Clubbing - Zen (Zen’s POV)

Warnings: alcohol (duh)

Summary: you’ve had a long day at work. Zen has been meaning to take you to some of his favorite clubs. You’re so pretty... even when you’re drunk, even more so when Zen is drunk. He’s caught feels

She had had the worst week ever, or that’s what it had sounded like. She was texting Zen everyday after work giving her update: “People were extra shitty today,” “working late,” “Friend’s being a real bitch.”

This week had sucked for her. Zen was determined to make it better though! She sounded so tired over the phone. Just exhausted of all the shit she had to put up with. So he recommended they go out clubbing, get super wasted together and let it all out. He knew it’d be therapeutic for her and, heck, maybe with a few drinks in him he’d forget how bubbly and hot he felt around her all the time. That’s the last thing she needed tonight.

He knew she was in desperate need of a fun night, so he picked the bar that he frequented that was right by a college campus. The scene was always lively and the people were nice. It’d be a good pick. His Uber arrived to the spot first. He had to look cool while he waited for you. He had dressed the part! Ripped jeans, a plain white shirt that was slightly fitted to give a little taste at his muscles, and the leather jacket he had pulled out from the back of his closet. He looked pretty cool, and definitely hot. His fans would have a heart attack seeing him in this ensemble, leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face.

When she got out of her Uber, though, that whole persona fell flat. He felt like an idiot. Why was he leaning against the wall! That was so stereotypical. His smirk had definitely changed, hopefully to a smile instead of a grimace. He was being an idiot.

But wow. She looked so good. She had on a skirt that looked so soft and her legs looked so pretty and he was staring at her legs for way too long. And her shirt was a high-necked, slightly cropped top. Not enough to show off her stomach, but just enough to hang there where a little bit of skin would peek out when she moved. She was so so beautiful. She didn’t even have to try. Of course, she had. She looked amazing. Ahhh how long had he been staring!? Say something! Say anything!

“Hey!” It was supposed to sound way cooler than that, way more chill. It came out as more of an exclamation. He was just so excited to see her.

She walked closer to him, a smile on her face. “This better be worth the commute,” she teased. It was a long Uber ride here, but he’d just have to make the trip even more worth it. The pressure was on.

He pushed himself off the wall so that he could better face her. “Oh it will! I’ve been so busy I haven’t been here in a while, but I doubt it’s changed.” He made his way into the building, staying close to her side. It often got pretty busy here. “It’s right outside of a college so you get all the fun college students here.” He had to raise his voice to speak over the music, but she seemed to be listening thoughtfully, a smile on her face as she nodded. God, that smile! Look anywhere else, Zen.

“Sounds messy,” she commented, her eyes scanning across the college students already getting drunk. Her gaze focused on a group of sorority girls in super high cut crop tops and high-waisted shorts. She pulled down her shirt subconsciously to cover up more of her stomach. It shot a pang to Zen’s heart. Did she really think she was any less attractive than these girls? She was so much more beautiful than them.

He chose not to comment on it though, instead following their conversation, explaining how all the students here were fun, as compared to regular bars where there were always people moping mixed in the crowds. He only ever came here when he wanted to get completely hammered and have a good time, but considering that’s what she needed, this was the perfect spot.

She was gazing at him for a little too long; Zen felt his body heat up under her gaze. What was she thinking about? Hopefully only good things. She continued on the conversation as though nothing had happened. “So, what do you typically start with here?”

“Shots. Classic move, especially for the med school students. You’ll see them soon enough. They start off with fireball then make their way down to the cheapest vodka as they get more drunk and can’t actually taste it.” It sounded like he had been here too much; he hoped he didn’t sound like an alcoholic.

But she didn’t judge him. She never had. She was so sweet. She just smiled, suggesting they follow their influence.

Zen offered to go get the drinks, heading up to the bar and placing their order. His eyes caught his own in the reflection in a mirror on the back wall. Why did he look so nervous? He’d need more alcohol to get through tonight. He requested another round of shots.

She seemed surprised to see the four shot glasses he balanced back. “Do they normally do two at once?” She asked, not bothering to hide the surprise in her face.

He shook his head. Don’t blush. Don’t blush. “Nah, they’re too broke for that. But I thought” that I didn’t want to be fawning over you all night. That I can’t look at you without thinking how pretty you are. That alcohol would help. “It’d be fun,” he finally mustered out. He handed her the shot glass, IGNORING how he felt as they brushed hands when they clinked their glasses against each other’s. He downed it smoothly, the burning feeling at his throat deliciously taking his mind off of her. That is until she had her mouth puckered and was shaking her head, holding back a cough. She looked cute even while doing that. “Good?” He asked her, still taking in her reaction.

“Perfect.” She grinned. “Round 2?”

“Already?” Thank God. More alcohol equals less strange feelings.

She laughed. His heart fluttered. “Well, it’s here isn’t it? The faster we can get drunk the better.”

Amen. He clinked the second glass and downed it even quicker than the first.

They got drunk fast. Zen had a constant stream of alcohol flowing through his body, begging it to stop thinking of her in that way. She tried to keep up with him, though, which got her drunk as well in no time.

“Will you sing karaoke with me?” He asked, his face heating up the second he realized what he had asked. What a strange question. One she’d never agree-

“Sure!” She laughed out loud. “I’ll even let you pick the song.”

Any song. Any song. A song he could remember the words to. A song you definitely knew. Maybe something a little romantic? No. Probably not. He settled on “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.” A perfect duet. It’d show off his voice well, everyone knew it, it was cute without being too lovey.

He clicked the wrong song. “Before He Cheats” started playing. Not what he intended at all. He stumbled up to the stage and grabbed the microphone, desperate to pull attention away from such an odd choice of a song. “Hey, I’m Zen and this is my...” he blanked into the microphone. NOT girlfriend. Friend. Friend. “Best friend!” He introduced, announcing her name for the audience before the song had begun.

She took the song in stride. In fact... she probably got too into it? “This is for my asshole ex!” She cheered at the instrumental break. The crowd went wild.

Say something say something say something. “A-and all my old managers who told me I’d never make it,” he added. Everyone cheered again.

She made her way over to him, time seeming to slow as he watched her foot catch on the microphone cord, leaping to action to catch her before she could hit the ground, arms around her back as she had one on his chest to steady herself. His body felt like it was on fire.

“That would’ve hurt like a bitch,” she commented, laughing. She was drunk drunk, huh? He helped her up, grasping her hand firmly and guiding her over the wire to his side of the stage. They finished the performance hand-in-hand; he hadn’t wanted to let go.

Once they got off the stage, they didn’t get a moment of relieve, a man calling her name. Why did he introduce her? Nobody had the right to cat call her like this. He whipped around to face the man, blinding white anger in his eyes. She had such a shitty week, she didn’t need this. “If you so much as look at her right now I swear to God I’ll knock you into-“ his eyes widened as he took in the startled blonde boy in front of him. “Yoosung?”

Yoosung didn’t move, unintimidated by drunk Zen. “Hi!” He greeted. She turned to face him, her skirt fanning as she moved. Zen snapped his eyes away from her and back to the man in question. “You guys are kinda drunk.”

They burst into laughter. Duh!! Wasn’t that obvious. “What are you doing here?” Zen asked, ignoring the previous comment.

“Oh, well I live right down the street.”

Her eyes lit up in enlightenment. “Oh my goodness you are a college student!” She seemed very proud of this discovery.

Yoosung went on about playing LOLOL but Zen was more focused on her, the smile on her lips, not reserved as it sometimes was, but in full form, nothing held back. The way her eyes sparkled under the light and... back to the conversation at hand.

“Oh! I have a great idea!” He interrupted Yoosung’s very boring story, focusing the conversation on her.

“I’d love to hear it.” She was always so nice.

“Why don’t we just crash at Yoosung’s place tonight? We won’t have to pay for an Uber.”

Yoosung seemed shocked. “But-“

“That’s pretty smart,” she butted in, nodding. “What do you think Yoosung?”

She could get anyone to listen to her. She was so damn charming. Yoosung didn’t stand a chance. “I- I guess that’s okay. As long as I can play LOLOL.”

“Yay!” She cheered, clapping excitedly. “We can go now. Lead the way.”

As the three headed out of the bar, Zen noticed her walking was shaky. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder to steady her and she followed suit. They weren’t much more stable walking down the street, but he felt better having his arm around her to keep her safe. Yoosung had unlocked the door for them and they shuffled in.

“I only have like... a bed and a couch,” he explained. “But we can figure something out.”

She let go of Zen’s body, leaping out of his grip to look around the place. “Wow Yoosung! This is cute as hell.” She was cute as hell.

Zen made his way to the couch, plopping down on it at the same time as her. His legs banged into hers clumsily, but he shifted so that she could lay on top of his. Were they really going to sleep in the same place?

“Is that really comfortable?” Yoosung asked, directing his attention to her. “You can take my bed.”

Zen glanced over at her, pouting. He was not sharing a couch with Yoosung, especially after almost getting to share it with her. She seemed to get the hint. “Nah, this is great. Will you get us a blankie though?”

As Yoosung left to get the blanket, Zen shrugged off his jacket, tossing it to the floor. She ran her hand through her hair, the locks falling messily around her face. Yoosung came back and draped the blanket over the two of them. “Is this okay?” He had asked.

Zen chuckled, cozying up to the blanket. “Perfect. Thanks Dad,” he teased. Yoosung blushed more. She giggled.

“Night Yoosungie! Don’t stay up all night.” She called. He wanted a nickname. Not fair. Yoosung set down some Advil and water on the coffee table and wished them good night. The room was suddenly silent.

“I want a nickname too.” Zen whispered.

“Zen isn’t even your real name,” she retorted.

He groaned. “I want a cute name like Yoosungie. Why don’t I get a cute name.”

“You’re plenty cute already,” she muttered, clearly tired. “Goodnight Zenny,” she giggled, blowing him a kiss. He fake-caught it, pinning it to his chest. Maybe tonight wasn’t all that bad after all.

#mystic messenger #mysme #zen

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nwbeerguide · 4 years ago

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With names like S'Mores Milk Stout, Black Forest Nitro, Left Hand Brewing invites you to try their newest canned-stouts available stand-alone. Or if you prefer, try S'Mores in their Milk Box.

Press Release

LONGMONT, Colo. … Left Hand Brewing Company, renowned for their stouts and leaders in Nitro technology, is going “All Out for Stout” this season with three new releases. The independent craft brewery is releasing two stout seasonals for a limited time, S’mores Milk Stout and Black Forest Nitro Cherry Chocolate Stout. After a wildly successful debut in 2020, Left Hand is also bringing back The Milk Box variety pack with a brand-new lineup of four different milk stouts. To celebrate these new brands, Left Hand is giving away custom-designed Meier snowboards to four lucky sweepstakes winners.

At 6.0% ABV, S’mores Milk Stout is your favorite campfire treat all grown up. “We went through a lot of trials for S’mores Milk Stout,” said Jeff Joslin, Director of Brewing Operations at Left Hand. “Our brewers decided on a unique grain bill to exhibit graham cracker. We used Cholaca liquid cacao because it lent the best chocolate flavor, richness of mouthfeel, and authenticity of ingredient. These ingredients all come together with toasted marshmallow to create the perfect liquid s’more.”

Black Forest Nitro is inspired by the famous German chocolate and cherry layer cake. “This beer is a true indulgence and weighs in at 7.7% ABV,” said Jill Preston, Director of Marketing and Hospitality at Left Hand. “In one of my favorite can designs ever, you get a glimpse of the tart black cherries and aromas of rich chocolate cake that exude from this stout. To top it off, it’s on Nitro. All those flavors cascade on a canvas of millions of tiny bubbles. Each sip finishes with decadence and our signature super smooth mouthfeel.”

In addition to these seasonal packages, Left Hand is releasing the second version of their fall-winter variety pack: The Milk Box. The pure milk chocolate bliss of their classic Milk Stout is richly reimagined four different ways. In addition to the inclusion of S’mores Milk Stout, fans of their famous stout can now savor the spice blend of Mole Milk Stout, cool down with refreshing Mint Chocolate Milk Stout, and luxuriate in decadence with Double Milk Stout. “Our fans keep telling us they want more Milk Stout,” said Jason Ingram, National Sales Director at Left Hand. “We’re listening to you out there and bringing this variety pack back. Whereas last year we featured a few throwback styles, this year, we are proud to release The Milk Box with an entire new line of four completely new beers.”

“We’ve had countless ideas for Milk Stout riffs over the years, and now we get to play with them,” said Joslin. “These four are the ones that the whole brewery is most enthusiastic about, and they complement each other so well!”

In addition to the new lineup, Left Hand has also moved this package to bottles for 2021. “As we continue to navigate through the nationwide aluminum can shortage, we are making strategic decisions on packaging,” said Ingram. The Milk Box was one of our most successful releases of last year, and we had to double production to meet demand. With the reliability of glass, we knew it was the right call to make the switch to bottles for 2021.”

In conjunction with their releases, Left Hand is encouraging fans to participate in a sweepstakes to win a custom-designed Meier snowboard. “What better way to go ‘All Out for Stout’ than to go all out with one of our Artist Series snowboards?” said Preston. “The snowboard is designed by Left Hand’s Graphic Designer, Carly Igoe, and they have this edgy, whimsical feel in a comic book inspired layout. They really match the energy and vibe of the sport, and four lucky winners will be taking them home!” Winners can enter using a QR Code posted at retail locations across the country or enter online here.

S’mores Milk Stout is available in 6-packs of 12oz cans and on draft. Black Forest Nitro can be purchased as 4-packs of 13.65oz cans and on draft. The Milk Box features twelve 12oz bottles, 3 beers of each style, and each style is available in limited supply on draft. Check out Left Hand’s beer finder for locations nearest you as these brands hit shelves throughout October. …

###

About Left Hand Brewing Company Left Hand Brewing Company, founded in Longmont, Colorado, is one of the original pioneers in craft brewing. From a humble homebrew kit beginning to becoming one of the top 50 craft breweries in the U.S., Left Hand has continued to grow and innovate throughout our 28-year history. Famous for our Nitro series, Left Hand launched America’s original Nitro bottle with our flagship Milk Stout Nitro and the first production run of U.S.- made Nitro widget cans. We’re proud to be one of the most honored and recognized breweries in Colorado with 29 Great American Beer Festival medals,11 World Beer Cup awards and 9 European Beer Star awards. Our collection of year-round and seasonal beers is available in 45 states, DC and internationally. To learn more, please visit www.lefthandbrewing.com.

from Northwest Beer Guide - News - The Northwest Beer Guide https://bit.ly/3mWF0uE

#Beer #News #Brewery

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hello--mrs · 6 years ago

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Steven Universe Podcast: Battle of Heart and Mind

I don’t usually do this but I said I would for the server, so here we are.

This episode included Rebecca Sugar, Kat Morris, Joe Johnston, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, and Ian Jones-Quartey.

· The episode starts with the rainbow worm in Steven’s dream, who is voiced by Deedee. This is the last homage to the princess references in the arc. The worm is from the Kyanite colony and was brought to Homeworld by Pink, which Blue allowed, but then Pink released all worms in the ballroom. Rebecca mentions this links with Pink’s desire to be free by releasing animals from their colonies.

· This specific princess reference was to Jasmine (in Aladdin) opening the cage and allowing the birds to fly free. It was also a reference to Pink’s love of animals and wanting to set them free, which isn’t out of character for Steven either.

· For Diamond Days, they picked the most common princess tropes for Steven’s time on Homeworld and made this experience alienating for him.

· Rebecca states that the Diamonds are meant to exist as a body- the inspiration for the ship. Pink is the Id, Blue and Yellow are the Ego, and White is the Super Ego. This is represented in Change Your Mind where the collective mind experiences embarrassment when the Id demands they enjoy something.

· Kat admits that they came up with the new outfits by continuously emailing each other with ideas. Rebecca said they considered everything but there were some concepts that they really wanted, for example, Rainbow 2.0 would have a scarf and a jacket. It was important either way that the fusions would notably have Steven’s clothes and the gems. However, the fusions would hint at the new forms and Pearl didn’t end up having a scarf, but she did have the jacket. Later, McKenzie asked if the jacket was a throwback to Bad Pearl and Rebecca confirmed that it represented her independence.

· One of Garnet’s new designs included transparent glasses and Peridot’s glasses in the shape of a star. Kat came up with the idea for the shredded shorts and star pockets for Amethyst.

· All of the new outfits represent how the gems have changed and learned from Steven.

· Rebecca mentioned that Pearl has been ‘playing the field’ and ‘exploring who she is’, which started in Last One Out of Beach City.

· Lapis has gold accents on her new outfit to match the real-life gem stone. Kat said that Rebecca really wanted the sandals for Lapis and it makes for comfortable cosplay.

· Joe said that he enjoyed a lot of Garnet’s new designs. Most ideas were based off superheroes and had a more ‘knightly’ aspect.

· They confirmed that they tried Peridot’s new design with star hair but it was too much. Rebecca said that the glasses already change her silhouette and expose her gem more.

· Peridot also has boots this time. Before, she had socks because she used to wear limb enhancers.

· Mary Poppins and Bert were the inspiration for Rainbow 2.0. These concepts were made by Joe around 2-3 years ago. Sunstone was a newer concept.

· Rebecca said that all Garnet fusions can break the fourth wall, but with Steven, it would break it to give advice to children. The suction cups are also a combination of Steven’s shield and Garnet’s gauntlets. When creating Sunstone, Rebecca wanted her to look like a toy that you could stick in the back window of a car with suction cups.

· Alistair James auditioned for Rainbow 2.0 by doing an impression of his grandmother with a British accent. Rebecca said that Shoniqua was perfect and she knew immediately that she wanted her for Sunstone. She sounded exactly like how Miki Brewster pitched her.

· For Obsidian, they’d had her concept from the very beginning since she was shown as the temple. It was a hidden in sight visual that would eventually pay off.

· Obsidian’s sword is in the ocean, which is a part of the temple. It’s first seen in Bubble Buddies and seen again in Ocean Gem when the ocean is cleared. The sword design changed over time to ensure that all the Crystal Gem’s weapons could fit into the design.

· The earliest inspiration for White Diamond is traced back to the beginning of the show. She was inspired by the film ‘A Story of Menstruation’, which was made in 1946. It was a film by Disney played in schools to teach children what to expect in menstruation, and the narrator’s voice was a kindly older woman. Rebecca said that she found the designs really interesting and cute.

· From the film, the inspiration came from a scene where a woman cried into her arms but in the reflection of her mirror, she straightens up and starts smiling before going out dancing. The narrator says: “Don’t forget that people are around you and you’ll have to be more pleasant if you want people to like you”. The scene passes by and it ignores that fact that the woman was crying earlier, because she’s now seen being ‘correct’. This is the voice and the feeling that she went for with White Diamond and Homeworld.

· Homeworld is inspired by Busby Berkeley, and White is inspired by Hedy Lamarr in Ziegfeld Girl and Nell Brinkley drawings, all within an era where women were seen as beautiful pieces of furniture. Rebecca states: Women are like lamps, smiling and there, part of the scenery. It all originates from the idea that people thought it was lovely and seen as an escape from reality.

· Those early inspirations were also used for the wall gems- the idea that people are in the background as if turned to stone and function solely as architecture. These faces we see in the architecture are gems and that’s their function.

· White has always been associated as a mother, especially in terms of her storyline with Steven in this arc, and how gems are viewed as her children. This arc wanted to begin to explore her relationship with them.

· Rebecca says that White’s way of thinking is that she is everyone and everyone is her. She considers herself the default white light that passes through other gems, so when she sees gems absorb other colours from that light, she considers it a variation of her but lesser. In that way, she has no identity at all because she considers herself just light. She feels that people can be turned into her because they are all the same.

· Rebecca also stated that White is wrong about how she views the world and herself. It’s an antithesis to Rose’s journey- expression and repression. She lives in a delusion that everything is fine but it isn’t.

· Matt and Ben said that the whole episode was balanced by ensuring that every single character got their moment. It was an accumulation of ideas from over the years that they tried to fit into one episode, such as Amethyst greeting Jasper after she was uncorrupted. They felt they did everything they wanted to do before they left.

· All past episodes, especially for Diamond Days, were made to build up to the scene with White and Steven where she pulled out his gem. Mirror Gem is the first time they introduce the concept that a sentient gem can be trapped inside an object and that object is Steven. They’ve been planting hints that Pink may be trapped inside him ever since.

· From the beginning, they’ve wanted there to be doubt that Steven was his own person and have the audience question if Pink/Rose could still be alive. Even when the gem was pulled out, they still wanted the viewer to doubt if he was Steven. They planted enough hints that the viewer would think it could go either way.

· Between the crew, the hottest debates were about the storyline between Steven and Rose/Pink, about who Steven would be if they were separated. One of the most recent arguments was about Steven’s gem self and the fact he was devoid of any feeling, that there was none at all. That emotion came from Steven.

· Rebecca had planned the split perspective scene since the start of development and storyboarded it early in the process. It’s still from Steven’s point of view. Ian noted that if the show wasn’t completely from his perspective, it wouldn’t work. The split perspective was to also represent how torn and disoriented Steven was in that moment.

· Pink Steven is him as a default. If you take away his personality and emotion, he is empty. He’s been separated from his humanity and all that’s left is power. There have been nods to this in the past by showing how his power is greater because of his humanity and his capacity to love.

· Ian said that Rebecca has always had the idea of the final confrontation being about Steven’s relationship with his powers and that connection showing who he really is. Steven wants that human side of him, even if it slows him down, because it’s what makes him who he is.

· The scene of Steven returning to himself was originally written for episode 10. It was going to be a part of Giant Woman where they establish fusion.

· Rebecca confirms that James Baxter animated the scene where Steven reunites with Pink Steven. She met him by doing a drawing for his daughter’s birthday.

· The fusion sequence with the two Stevens was the ultimate princess trope- a rotating dancing scene specifically boarded by James Baxter. He completed the whole sequence himself apart from the inking.

· Ian mentioned that he wanted the uncorrupted gems scene for a long time. He said they always knew the arc would come back to the corrupted gems as that was the original conflict of the series, but now they finally get to see it through.

· On top of that, Ian went through every single episode that had a corrupted gem and designed their healed versions, while Rebecca added some of the quartz designs. He mentioned that the longer they were in their ‘monster’ form, the more they will look like that form, even when they’re healed. That’s why several of the healed gems look more like their original designs.

· Rebecca added that Ian helped with the fusion designs and their sequence, as that was a wishlist moment for him. He wanted Steven to fuse with all the gems in a row.

· Ian said that he had been most excited about Rainbow 2.0 and that Colin Howard had done most of the groundwork already.

· Rainbow is they/them and he/him, and Sunstone is they/them and she/her.

· Rainbow 2.0 is mixed with Pearl’s properness and Steven’s penchant for making jokes. Rainbow 2.0 loves to make puns and is a throwback to Steven’s puns in the earlier series. In the episode, Ian also came up with the idea that RQ 2.0 could ride their umbrella and have a rainbow shoot out of the end- a reference to Pearl being able to shoot lasers out of her spear.

· With Sunstone and Rainbow 2.0, they wanted to be able to show common traits in Sardonyx. The break in the fourth wall comes from Garnet, but loving to hear themselves talk comes from Pearl. Steven enables the both of them to embrace their silly sides.

· The ship foot falling on them was a slight reference to Monty Python but also a reference to the giant foot mentioned in Arcade Mania.

· Rebecca stated that the song Change Your Mind was not written for the show, but a personal song she wrote while fighting for the wedding arc. She was hesitant at first to include it.

· Change Your Mind isn’t for the end of the Steven Universe franchise but for this arc, Ian mentions. He adds that even though it was written for the process of including the wedding, it perfectly captures the theme of the show. As a coming of age story, Rebecca notes that this is something that had to happen for Steven to start making decisions for himself.

· Rebecca also admits it has been hard to write for Steven because he always puts others before himself. It’s always about what others want and what he thinks they want. However, he finally comes to a realisation in this arc that he doesn’t have to be anyone else other than himself or pamper to other’s expectations.

· Ian states that this arc was incredibly important for Steven’s development, in terms of who he is, who he thinks he is, and who others believe him to be. Moving forward, everything will be different from Steven’s perspective. There’s going to be more but it will have changed, because Steven has changed.

If I’ve missed anything out, let me know. Hope you guys enjoy!

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calypsoff · 5 years ago

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Two. Part 2

The way I didn’t think this would have happened, I didn’t think global singer Rihanna would be acting this way with me. I have still yet to reply back to that message, I don’t understand why she is being this way. I feel it’s irrational to say the least, I feel bad for most part because it’s Seiko birthday and she booked time away too “you can’t sit there with that glum face bro” downing the rest of my vodka and coke “I am getting another drink, want one?” I offered “not for me” nodding my head walking off to the bar, I am not about to get drunk, but I need some alcohol in me for this, drunken thoughts are not the best thing. This situation has taken a turn, a turn I didn’t think would happen, I know the friendship we had was the best, I adore her so much and she does make me happy but this behaviour, it’s odd from her but also maybe she has changed, I mean of course she has changed. Leaning against the bar to be served, I am stuck between my girlfriend and my best friend that I do adore so much, she has a man go and speak to him but also maybe she just wanted me, but this whole love situation, maybe I am to blame with getting back in her life, maybe I’ve ruined her whole little bubble “what would you like?” Looking up from the bar “anything strong” I mumbled “can I have a bottle of Hennessy?” She looked at me with a slight smirk “whole bottle!? Really that bad?” Nodding my head “kind of” I laughed shaking my head “how about I give you some in a glass, clear thoughts are better” she is right “thank you” maybe I am looking into it too much, I know what I want really. I do, I mean I have a girlfriend.

Placing both glasses on the table “we going to get drunk?” Sitting down “not exactly but I thought get some Hennessy and a large vodka and coke “I don’t think you should stress yourself out about it, just go with Seiko I guess?” Licking my top lip “but she’s begging me to come what if something is wrong and she needs me” Barry shrugged “she also ditched you, did she not? Do it back” made me laugh “I’m not that petty” I chuckled “then what the fuck you want dude!?” He spat “you’re jumping or want me to jump because she is who she is and that is wrong and I am not that person Barry, you see her as that famous girl. I just said let’s take it slow, be friends again and have fun” I know what Barry and TJ are thinking “I hate this new nigga mentality, she want your dick, give it” rolling my eyes shaking my head “you don’t help, if you want to be helpful then just be quiet. When I did meet Robyn that day before she left, I felt that attachment and she was admitting to love, I don’t know. Like, was it?” Barry pointed at me laughing “you remembered her after all these years and at that time you was upset so I suppose yes but only you know that, just speak to her. Text her back and just tell her you’re working, if you say Seiko then she may dislike you even more for it” nodding my head “I need to message her back, you right” I need to suck it up.

Twin:

I don’t mean to upset you, tell me what happened? 😔😔

Pressing send on the message, chewing on my bottom lip just thinking. Seiko is there for me, she’s there I guess and Robyn yes she’s been the person on my mind when I was locked up but I felt slightly hurt she went but hearing her tell me why, I do forgive her for it but I just don’t know, am I getting myself in some shit or am I following the path I could have had with her, I am just in deep thought. I promised myself I would never fuck up; I would never do anything to fuck up my life. It has scarred me when I got beat up, to be in that situation “you know, to this day I’m scared them niggas people will get me for snitching” I admitted “you did what you needed to do Chris. You moved away from your mom so she is good, I think you will be ok. Just keep your head down” I suppose he is right, now I am just going to have that on my mind. Seiko is staying at my apartment tonight so now I got to deal with her questioning me and shit, I decided I’m not going to drink anymore unless it’s water, I need a clear mind “I can’t wait for you to wake up and be a fuck nigga again” Barry continues to say this, he makes me laugh “it’s still there, trust me. I got it but I’m trying to keep my head down, trust me I don’t think anyone will like me if I’m like that again” picking my glass up “Robyn did, I mean clearly she’s jumping on your dick and riding it to the high depths” I near choked on my drink, he ain’t shit.

Barry has a fucked up mind, he is there just talking shit. I mean he did talk shit back when he assumed that Robyn and I had sex, I did say no we didn’t, but he did not believe. Only thing we did was make out, we did that a lot so that was the reason why I ended up initiating sex but it’s whatever now. Robyn aint’ texting me at all, she is more then likely fallen out with me “I am back” walking into my apartment, Seiko has let herself in. She did say she was staying with me tonight “so early!?” she spat, closing the door behind “yeah, I am tired. And also I just wanted to be at home, you know” I have too much on my mind, taking my jacket off “you going to come and snuggle me” pulling a face “I don’t do snuggles, nice try” throwing my jacket on the back of the couch “give me a kiss at least!?” rolling my eyes, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips “I am so excited about my birthday weekend” I chuckled wishing I had that energy for that, my phone pinged in my pocket “I will be back” walking off to go to the bathroom, grabbing my phone from my pocket and seeing that Twin has text me but it looks like a picture. Opening the message and then tapped on the photo, bringing my phone closer to my face seeing a fifteen year old me with the chubbiest cheeks ever “oh wow” I look so goofy as hell but yet so happy, looking at Robyn at the side of me. This was for the science project and I won it, this was the picture taken. The way she is just smiling but looking at me, I was so goofy, it’s sweet to see a throwback of us. Closing the picture and seeing the message ‘wish I could go back to this’ she messaged, I am not sure what is wrong with Robyn but whatever it is I feel she is hurting about something but is not mentioning it.

I do not play; Seiko knows I mean it when I say I don’t like snuggles. I am sat on the other couch, I just don’t want to be hugged up on and she knows it “I really wish you got over this phobia of you disliking cuddles, I won’t bite?” I shrugged smiling “I actually wanted to speak to you, you know Miami” Seiko frowned “I don’t want to hear it, you promised. You always do this; you have something coming up” clasping my hands together “you said you got that for your friend and not me!? So what is the difference, Seiko I will make it up to you. I will cuddle you?” Seiko was frowning but her face softened up “come here” she patted the couch; I mean if I must. Getting up from the couch and dragging my feet walking towards her, jumping on the couch sitting next to her “I love you so much” Seiko jumped on me “how do you know you love me though? Like people throw that word around, I find that shit kind of weird. Like why say that word, what do I do to make you love me? Or is it something you wish to be in?” she gasped in my ear “who put two cents in you? Something you wish to be in, that is pretty rude Chris. I love you because you don’t show you care but you do, you are a caring person” side eyeing her as I turned my head to look at her, she pecked my lips “but on a real how do you know you love someone?” it’s a genuine question “well they think about the person constantly, craving connection with them both physically and emotionally. We want to know their thoughts, feelings, wants, and needs. I think with us it’s starting slow, I get that you have been through shit. I got you” I slowly turned my head, I am deadass thinking about what I did to Robyn to make her upset with me like that, feeling a kiss to my cheek.

I have been watching this show with Seiko but also I haven’t been watching it, my phone screen lit up and the name twin popped up as it rang out “you and Barry are twins” so she thinks it’s Barry, grabbing my phone from my lap and answering the call “hey” turning down the volume on the phone “you picked up quick, I just want to say sorry for like pressuring you to do something you can’t, also that I just have a lot of things on my mind. I am totally fine with you not coming, I just have a lot of things going on” why does Robyn cry, like now her voice is all over “yeah” I said “I will be back” I got up from the couch “huh” Robyn said “one minute” I don’t know who to speak too, I have Seiko just staring at me like what the fuck am I doing and Robyn confused, I was going to go to my bedroom but Seiko could be nosey so I will just leave the apartment “where are you going!?” Seiko shouted out “I will be back, I need my cigarettes” putting my slides on, unlocking the door walking out “sorry about that” I said down the phone “it’s fine, I just shouldn’t have acted that way. I think I don’t want you to say those things. I don’t want money to be a factor on the decisions you make” walking down the steps “you been really different with me, I feel like meeting you again as made it worse for you. I have messed up your feelings and made you this” I feel a little bad about it “you know when you don’t have that person there, you learn to live with it. When that person is there you can’t. When I think back, I feel like I should have told you everything, but I had no time. I don’t want you to think it was a mistake, it has been the best thing for me, to reconnect with you. I just need to back off. I just have so much going on, and I think I am just on that mode of you always being there, I feel fifteen all over again” opening the door walking out “I am here for you, I am here for you now, you at your concert date?” seems loud in the background “yes, but I am just thinking of how I have been with you. Emotions are high” I can agree on that “we have grown in different ways, we need to explore that again but being with you, you bring that out. You do, I am just not that boy you see in the photos, you are the person I was” I admitted “you’re like wall, there is a wall between me and you and I can only hear your voice, I saw it as soon as I saw you. You are different and I get it, but I just wanted to say that to you” she did mention it, she felt the change “I will see what I can do, if I can come. I will text you and let you know beforehand” rubbing the back of my head, is this me choosing but I feel like Seiko made that choice for me, after that little description of love, maybe I was or did be in love “it would be nice to see you” Robyn is so much more calmer, much calmer then she was on text.

I have been trying for the past half hour to get Robyn to tell me her issue, she is straight hard headed “my period, there! Happy now?” pulling a face at the fact that was the issue “ok, so because you decided to be on your period you angry?” I am confused “I didn’t decide to be on my period Chris it happens every month! I don’t just say oh well today I will be on my period, come on! We were both in the same lessons” I snorted laughing “and I was busy” I kissed my teeth “busy annoying me and eating my food” she ain’t wrong “we shared food, also you owe me breakfast. That was an hour pay” I pointed out “one waffle for two please” Robyn and I both laughed out “you sound like me! I would march into that place and be demanding that one waffle, he gave me a discount too. But on a real, that whole thing of being angry was because of your period? That is a lot of anger for a lady like yourself, so you gonna be on your period when I come? Does that last ages” Robyn screamed out laughing “wait, you being deadass about this? Wow, why do you care, not like we doing anything freaky” I am offended she laughed at me the way she did “we could finish off where left off? I am joking but you all angry and stuff, I don’t do hugs either. Like I am not about that snuggle life, no ma’am. I just sex and go, it’s the best thing” placing my cigarette between my lips “the lie detector determined that was a lie Christoff, you hugged me all of the time. You would drag me back by my backpack and then hump me. Don’t give me that” I grinned shaking my head, not like she can see. Moving my cigarette away from my lips because I am too busy smiling now “I am serious though; I don’t do that hug business” she don’t believe me at all “how many sex and go you done?” raising an eyebrow “good question, you tell me first?” she being sly with that question “mhmmm two, could have been three if that happened with us” that is low “two? I mean body count doesn’t matter to me, but two!?” I am shocked “you think I just give myself away” let me not get her angry “not at all, just thought it would be more. Erm, possibly could have been more but I would say about ten? Not sure, but since coming out it’s been one, I met Seiko quick. Could have been eleven if forehead put out” Robyn snorted laughing, I am glad she is ok now.

#Chrianna FF #Chrianna #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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1dffchallenges · 6 years ago

Photo

Not a Throwback

Written By: @fireawaynjh

Characters: Sophie Kemper (OFC)/Niall Horan

Summary: Parenting is hard, anyone will tell you. But being a single parent is even harder. Niall loves his son more than the world and he would do anything to make him happy. But he soon discovers the sacrifices he will have to make. Dating his son’s teacher isn’t always the easiest. But can he make it work? Or will he have to sacrifice his own happiness this time?

Author’s note: pls excuse my terrible graphics also I changed my banner because i like to think I got better at photoshop; i did not

Warnings: mentions of drugs, alcohol, mild swearing

2012

Niall closed his laptop as the text from his girlfriend popped into the corner. He walked down the stairs to let her in with his usual smile. The smile faded upon seeing her dismayed look.

“Something wrong love?” he asked, stepping aside to let her in. Her arms sat folded across her chest as she walked in quickly. Niall grew increasingly more worried with every second she stayed silent.

“Babe what’s-”

“I’m pregnant.”

Niall stood in shock for a moment. His mind immediately thought about the fact that in a month he was supposed to leave for uni. He couldn’t work and study and be a father, that would be insane. He could see in her eyes that she was just as worried as he was. With a soft sigh he opened his arms and drew her close to him.

“How do you feel?” he asked as she pressed her nose to his chest. He could feel her shoulders shrug up.

“Alright I guess. I know I want to keep it.” Trying to keep the shock off his face, Niall nodded. She’d never wanted children before. It surprised him that she’d want to keep it.

“How long have you known?” he asked.

“Three days,” she whispered. He nodded gently as he rubbed soothing circles over her back.

“You have my support no matter what Carls,” he assured her. He felt guilty for secretly hoping she wouldn’t keep it. He wasn’t ready to be a father and she never wanted to be a mother. It was stupid of them to think that this was a good idea. Of course Niall would never say any of that to her. He meant it when he said he’d support her. He loved her, he knew that for sure, and if she were to keep this baby, he knew he’d love it too.

The months went by and in early March of the next year the couple welcomed their son Killian. Niall found a job working at the tech shop, selling smartphones and tablets while he attended his first year of Uni. He switched his studies from music theory to applied business and began putting money away so he could support his new family.

The nine months had been hard and they’d battled their fair share of arguments. But Niall truthfully was happier than he ever could have imagined. He didn’t know why Carlie was so worried about having kids, already she was an incredible mum. He’d soon find that he didn’t know her well at all.

2017

Niall gripped the edge of the podium, refraining from chewing at his nails, as he stood in front of the judge.

“Mr. Horan you had no idea about the drugs?”

“No Your Honor.” he stated plainly. The past two months had been a haze. Carlie, his now fiance had been arrested for using and selling heroin as well as selling every other drug under the sun.

“You didn’t notice the change in your fiance?”

“I did Your Honor, I thought it was her new job and stress from taking care of a toddler.” She had lost her job a year earlier, the store she worked in went out of business. She told Niall she’d found a new one, in reality she’d started selling drugs for his best mate.

“And where were you during the days if she was the only one watching your son?”

“Working Your Honor, or at Uni. Our arrangement was I would work and get my degree so I could support the family better.” The judge nodded.

“Well Mr. Horan, Miss Aldon attests that your son was never around the contraband and that you played no part. I’ll review your testimony and we will resume next week with a verdict of custody.” He smacked the gavel on the podium, the crack echoing through the room. Niall sighed as he gathered his belongings and walked out of the courtroom.

“Mr. Horan!” Niall turned as he walked out the doors to see the lawyer Carlie had hired approaching him. Niall turned to him and raised a brow. “Miss Aldon is allowed visitors now. She would like to see you.”

“Does she now?” he snapped coldly. He knew he was just the messenger but he still resented the guy for representing Carlie at all.

“I’m sorry Mr. Horan, for everything this has put you through.” Niall thanked him before walking to the elevator and heading to his car. The jail wasn’t far from the courthouse, Niall knew he should get this over with.

Carlie looked exhausted as she sat on the other side of the glass. But it looked like exhaustion from worry about herself. It was different than the exhaustion he’d seen rising in her since Killian was born. He knew she was relieved to be away from the responsibility and that sparked the anger in him further. He gripped the phone and scowled as he held it to his ear.

“Niall I’m so sorry-”

“Shut the fuck up Carlie no you’re not.” he growled. She flinched. He’d never spoken to her with anything less than respect. Even through fights she could always tell that he loved her and that he respected her. Now she wasn’t sure what he felt.

“Niall I never wanted this to happen,” she insisted.

“I believe that, I know you didn’t want to get caught. Why in the hell did you even start the drugs if you didn't want to get caught?”

“Niall it was a moment of weakness. I’d just lost my job, no one would hire me only three days a week.. I was desperate, I went to the pub and Alec was there. He listened.. He understood how I felt.” Carlie sighed and shook her head. Niall knew by the fondness in her voice that it was more than just drugs with Alec.

“You fucking slept with him.. You fucking slept with my best mate.” Niall let out an exasperated laugh. “Unbelievable. I fucking propose to you and what do you do? You turn around and sleep with my best mate and start dealing.”

“I didn’t think it would go this far-”

“Of course you didn’t think! If you fucking thought about it you wouldnt have done any of it and we wouldn’t fucking be here right now!” Other visitors were beginning to stare at the arguing couple.

“Stop yelling at me!” Tears began to fall down her cheeks.

“Stop yelling?!” Niall laughed again. “I could fucking lose Killian because this shit and you want me to stop yelling at you?!” Carlie’s jaw dropped. “Oh so you do care about him.”

“What? Of course I care about our son Niall.” She looked hurt at the accusation.

“But you didn’t want to parent him right? That’s why you kept taking the drugs, so you wouldn’t have to feel the stress of a toddler?” She scrambled for an excuse and Niall knew that look too well. She hated to be called out on her shit and she always fumbled for excuses. “Yeah I fucking thought so. So thanks for everything Carlie.” He moved to hang up the phone but she stopped him.

“Niall wait! You’re right okay? It was too much, but I love Killian and I’m so sorry I’ve done this to you. If you see him will you please tell him I love him?”

“Goodbye Carlie.” Niall hung up the phone and walked back out the door. His heart ached as he got back in his car. All he wanted right now was to hold his son. Fear of losing him only worsened the ache and he thought about going to his mother’s house to see him but the social worker warned that it was best for his case that he not see Killian until the verdict was given. Instead he drove to the pub, in desperate need of a drink.

He ordered his double vodka soda and stared at the carbonated bubbles rising in the glass.

“Tough day mate?”

Niall set his jaw, not looking away from the glass. “Get the fuck out of here Alec before I beat the shit out of you.”

“Niall mate-” Niall turned to look at him.

“Don’t you try to explain yourself to me. I was gonna ask you to be me best man y’know that?” Alec swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. Niall wanted nothing more than to punch it right now. “I don’t want to speak to you again, please go.” Alec didn’t argue and turned to walk out the door. Niall tossed back the entire drink and set the glass back down.

“Another please.”

2025

“Killian mate it’s time to get up!” Niall called from the opposite end of the apartment. The 12 year old groaned and shoved his head further into the pillow.

“Oi! I know you’re not up yet! C’mon i’ve pressed your uniform so you could sleep more now y’gotta get up so we can go.” Niall called again. Killian threw back the covers in annoyance and got up off the bed.

“I’m standin Da!”

“Good lad.” Niall finished wrapping the ham sandwich he’d thrown together, one for Killian and one for himself, putting Killian’s into the paper bag with a packet of crisps and some biscuits for his lunch. He put back the bread and mayo as his son came down the stairs in his uniform. The spoon Niall had laid next to a full cereal bowl quickly made its way to Killian’s mouth as he shoveled coco pops down.

“How’d y’sleep mate?” Niall asked as he poured coffee into his thermos. Killian shrugged and kept shoveling food into his mouth. Niall nodded knowing that was all he was going to get out of his son this early, finishing up his coffee before screwing on the lid and handing the brown lunch bag to Killian.

“Y’got your list of classes for today?” Niall asked. Killian rinsed out his bowl in the sink and nodded.

“It’s in me sack Da’ stop naggin me”

“I’m just checkin, not gonna be able to bring y’stuff if you forget this year.” Niall had just gotten a promotion at the firm he worked for. Before he’d worked from home settling all the accounts for the company but now he was on site working with the payroll side of the company. The pay was much better, even if the hours were complicated.

With in a few minutes Killian managed to finish off his breakfast and the two headed out to the car. Niall quickly pulled out of the drive and made his way down the street.

“Right what’s your plan for after school? Are you gonna go to Nan’s or what?” Niall asked.

Killian shrugged. “Dunno, James might be havin a few of us over or somethin.”

Niall nodded. “Just text me what time and where I need to pick you up yeah?” Killian nodded and the drive continued in silence. Niall pulled up out front of the school and Killian hopped out.

“Thanks Da! See you tonight.” Niall waved as his son jogged up the front steps. He couldn’t believe he was already a year eight. The time was flying by and Niall wasn’t sure how to feel.

The weeks continued with the same routine. Breakfast, work and school, home for dinner and whatever sporting match was on that night. On the Thursday of the fourth week Niall sat in the kitchen, looking at his calendar while he ate his breakfast. That night was parent teacher information night. He hadn’t called for a sitter and he wasn’t sure what he should do. Did Killian even need a sitter? He could always ask his mum to watch him. He glanced up at Killian as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a bowl for some cereal.

“Y’alright?” Niall asked. Killian nodded as he poured the milk. “I’ve got your teacher night thing, d’you want to stay here or go to Nan’s?” Niall figured giving him the choice might help his decision process. Killian had never stayed on his own, but it was only a few hours and he was definitely old enough to take care of himself.

“Don’t matter to me,” Killian shrugged. Niall nodded.

“Right then I’ll just let Nan know you’ll be here and you can call her if y’need anything.” Killian nodded again and sat down to eat.

That night Niall anxiously searched for his keys while Killian finished his homework.

“Da I’ll be fine, the pizza is coming, you left me money just go.” It amazed him how perceptive he’d become. Niall nodded to his son and grabbed his keys off the table where they had been sitting in plain sight.

“Alright, alright. Call your nan if y’need anythin.” Niall grabbed his coat and darted out of the small apartment. He arrived at the school 20 minutes early but after an incident getting lost last year he knew he should allow for extra time. Fortunately, Killian’s registration room was across the hall from the room he had in year seven and Niall had no troubles finding it. He gingerly pushed the door open, not sure if anyone was in there, and a small brunette popped her head up.

“Oh hello! Are you hear for parent night?” she asked, rising from her chair. Niall was surprised to see such a young woman seated at the front of the room. She couldn’t have been more the 26. As he nodded she walked around to the front of the desk with a bright smile, her dark hair bouncing softly as she stepped. Niall wasn’t used to seeing such a vibrant teacher, let alone a beautiful one. He returned her smile as he stepped forward as well.

“I’m Niall, I’m sorry I’m a bit early, last year I got turned around.” A bashful chuckle pushed past his lips and he glanced at the ground shyly.

“That’s quite alright. I’m Sophie Kemper. I’m guessing you’re Killian’s dad?” Niall raised a brow, worrying about how she was so familiar with his son already. “He looks just like you.” He let out a breathy chuckle as she explained.

“Yeah we do get that a lot, I hope he isn’t given y’trouble in class,” he replied easily, folding his arms over his chest anxiously. He hadn’t spoken to a woman his age in a decade. Not one he wasn’t related to at least. He wasn’t sure what to do.

“Oh no he’s great,” she smiled. “He’s a really lovely kid.” Sophie couldn’t deny the fluttering in the pit of her stomach as she spoke to Niall. He was much younger than the other dads she was used to talking to and he was far more attractive. She tucked her hair back shyly as she looked over at him. “Is anyone else joining you tonight?” She felt another flutter as Niall shook his head.

“No, it’s just me.” Niall wondered if she was asking because she was the teacher or if she might possibly fancy him. “His uh.. his mum isn’t involved.”

“I see well you’ve done a lovely job raising him, he’s truly a gem.” Niall smiled proudly at her compliment, figuring she was asking as the teacher. Niall was about to ask her another question when more parents walked in. Sophie walked up to them and shook their hands, introducing herself as Miss Kemper. Niall didn’t miss that part. Had he just caught her off guard and she forgot that she was a teacher? Or had she done it on purpose? He was pulled from his mental debate as one of the dads walked over to him.

“Niall mate! Y’alright?” he smiled shaking Niall’s hand. His son and Killian were mates and he’s been more than welcoming to Niall.

“Yeah doin’ well, yourself?” Niall replied.

“Bloody brilliant mate, got all four kids in school full time now.”

“Bet the missus is lovin that.” The two men smirked at each other.

“That she is… speakin of, have you caught a look at Miss Kemper? Bloody well fit she is.”

Niall chuckled. “Yeah she’s lovely, had a bit of a chat when I got here.”

“Oi oi! Good on y’mate, get on that.”

“She’s our kids teacher mate that’s fuckin’ weird,” Niall laughed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake its only registration, go after ‘er mate she’s the fittest bird in this town.”

Niall was grateful for Sophie calling for all the parents to sit. He wasn’t wrong, Sophie was definitely the most beautiful woman he’d seen around the town. But she was his son’s teacher and that added all sorts of complications. Sophie gave a great presentation about how she would help the students be successful. It was clear she loved teaching and she was passionate about her students. Niall loved that about her.

He made his way to all the other classes before heading to the caf for the final discussion of the night. As usual the headmaster explains how parent volunteering works and why it’s so important for the kids. He knew the drill, sign up for the least time committing one before all the other parents get there. He grabbed a cup of coffee and wandered up and down the stalls of sign up sheets. He walked past a bright red poster advertising the pasta feed auction. He could help with that. It was coming up in a few months and he wouldn’t have to help much.

“You helping with the auction then?” Niall jumped as he heard Sophie’s voice.

“Oh um.. yeah I figured that would mostly be nights right?” Sophie nodded.

“Yeah, I’m on the committee for it too, thought maybe my marketing degree my come in handy for once.” She giggled as Niall finished signing his name.

“Y’studied marketing then? How’d you get into teaching?”

She shrugged. “None of the big firms were hiring so I got my teaching certification.” Niall nodded.

“Well that’s brilliant. If y’need any help with it let me know.” Sophie smiled and nodded shyly. “I um.. I was going to grab another coffee, do you want one?” he offered. She nodded and the two headed to the refreshment table. Niall Poured a cup for both of them, Sophie adding both cream and sugar to hers. A grimace flashed across her lips as she took the first sip.

“I can’t believe I thought they’d actually get good coffee for this.” She shook her head but continued to drink in the caffeine.

“Honestly, they could have at least gotten a Costa or something,” Niall agreed.

“Exactly! Maybe sometime we could just go get a Costa.” She quickly realized what she’d just said. “Or not whatever, that’s probably weird-“

“No I’d love to, maybe next week?” Niall smiled as he pulled out his phone. “Put in your mobile and we can set something up?” Sophie beamed and took the device, quickly typing in her number.

Niall returned home with the biggest smile. Killian was still awake not to his surprise.

“Oi, y’didn’t tell me about all the ruckus you’ve causin at school.”

Killian rolled his eyes at his dad’s joke knowing that he was just joking. He clicked off the iPad and turned to his dad.

“Can we watch the football?”

“Yeah course we can mate, why d’y’think I’m here and not down the pub with Uncle Willie?”

“Cause Uncle Willie never invites y’anywhere.”

Niall chuckled. The kid had wit about him that was for sure. He sat down on the sofa and draped his arm over the back of it, clicking over to sky sports. Normally he watched every second of the match but tonight all he could think about was how heavy his phone felt in his pocket. He knew he was mere sentences away from getting to go out with a girl he fancied, he just had to grab the device and text her. But he thought about Killian. He had never dated since he was born, he didn’t know how Killian would react. But if he kept it to himself then it wouldn’t have to be an issue yet.

Once he was all tucked away into bed Niall hastily reached for his phone. He pulled up Sophie’s contact and quickly typed the message he’d been formulating for the last hour.

Hey it’s Niall… thought maybe next Saturday we could go for that Costa ?

He tapped his foot nervously as he stood in the kitchen, awaiting the response. In a minute nothing had come through and his anxiety was rising. With a sigh he tossed down the phone and walked to the fridge to grab himself a beer. The standard chime sent him diving for the device and scrolling to read the message.

Yeah that’s perfect, meet at 10 ?

Yeah that’s perfect see you then !

He breathed out a sigh of relief as he set down his phone again and took a long sip of his beer.

That Saturday came faster than he expected and with Killian staying at a friend’s house for the weekend he had the whole apartment to absorb his nerves. He tossed on about ten different shirts before settling on a black polo and some grey slacks. He knew he was a tad overdressed but he’d rather look nice for Sophie.

Once he arrived he got in the queue and looked around for Sophie. He was four minutes early, hoping that she arrived soon so he wouldn’t be awkwardly waiting for her. AS he took a step forward in line the door behind him opened and he turned to see who was there. He smiled as Sophie stepped through the door in a beautiful green dress that Niall couldn’t take his eyes off. He stepped toward her and gave her a polite hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hiya love how are ya?” he greeted easily.

“I’m good! I’m glad we get to do this.” Her smile was radiant, and Niall couldn’t stop himself from smiling more. They stood together as the line moved forward and as they reached the till Niall looked over at her.

“What would you like?” he asked with a smile.

“I’ll take a latte please,” Sophie smiled. She reached for her purse but Niall shook his head, ordering himself a latte before paying for both drinks.

“Thank you for buying,” she smiled. Niall shrugged easily.

“S’nothin, so how was your week? School not drivin y’mad?”

“No it never does, not yet at least.”

“How long have you been teaching?”

“This is my third year.” She smiled up at him as the barista handed over their drinks. “What do you do?”

“Nothin exciting really, I’m in the pay roll side of accounting at a firm down town.”

“Well that’s interesting,” she giggled. Niall chuckled knowing full well she just wanted to be polite.

“We both know it’s not.”

Sophie smiled kindly. “So what do you want to be doing?”

“I wanted to do music, I was set in a program at Uni for music technology but when I found out Killian was on the way I had to do something more practical y’know?” Sophie nodded.

“Do you play instruments?”

“Piano and guitar mostly,” Niall replied easily.

“My mum would have loved for me to be a musician, she had me in cello lessons as a kid but I was honestly horrible at it.” Niall laughed happily.

“I doubt you were horrible.”

“No I was, y’know in the films when the kid gets their first violin and it sounds like a dying animal?” Niall laughed harder knowing that she played like that.

“I’ll have to tech ya something easier and less horrible sounding,” he chuckled. Sophie flushed at the implication of further dates in the future.

“I’d like that,” she smiled. They spent the rest of the morning chatting about jobs and getting to know each other. Niall desperately wanted to kiss her as they walked back to her car, but the moment didn’t feel right, so he simply hugged her and walked to his own car.

Killian texted as Niall pulled into the apartment parking lot, saying he was headed home. He had just kicked off his shoes and tossed down his keys when he heard Killian bounding up the stairs, having walked across the complex from his friend’s house. Niall walked into the kitchen to grab some water as the door opened.

“Hey mate how was it?” he asked, sipping the water easily.

“Good, Collin has the new xbox.”

“Sick, did y’like it?” Killian nodded and grabbed juice from the fridge.

“Yeah it was cool, why are y’dressed up?”

“What?” Niall frowned as he set the water glass down.

“‘Y’never wear your work clothes on Saturday and y’ve got on the good cologne.”

Niall shrugged. “I met a friend for a coffee, that a problem?”

Killian sipped his juice. “Was it a date?” Niall mentally cursed the child’s intuition.

“So what if it was?” He cocked one brow testing to see how he handled the news.

“That’s weird da you’re too old to date.”

“Oi I’m younger than any of the other parents thank y’very much.”

“It’s not a mum from the school is it? I don’t want a sibling.” Killian continued. Niall shook his head with a chuckle.

“It’s not another mum mate, and it wasn’t really a date it was just a coffee.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sophie.” Niall folded his arms and leaned back against the counter.

“Are you gonna see her again?” Killian looked up with a tint of anxiety in his eyes. Niall knew the look well, he got like this any time there was a doctor’s appointment that could involve a vaccine or blood test.

“I was thinking about it… but if it bothers you that I date I don’t have to ask her out again.”

Killian shrugged and put his empty juice cup into the sink. “I guess it would be alright.” Niall could tell he was on the fence.

“Mate we talked about this, you can talk about how y’really feel I’m not gonna be mad.” Killian nodded but didn’t offer up any further discussion. “Let’s go sit yeah? Have a little chat.” The pair made their way to the sofa and sat down next to each other.

“What’s on your mind then mate?”

“I just don’t know why you’re dating… you always said you loved mum.” He looked down at his lap. “I just thought you two would work it out one day and she could come home.” Niall’s heart ached at the confession. He’d kept the real reason why Carlie left a secret, wanting to wait until he was old enough to understand what had happened.

“It’s not that simple mate I-“

“But why not? Why can’t you fix things with her?”

“Because…” Niall was at a loss for words. Should he tell him? Should he lie? Should he tell him because he said so? He took a deep breath. “Mate y’have to understand there are circumstances to why she can’t come back. I do love your mum but she can’t come home.” He took another deep breath. “If you want the details I will tell you but it’s not something simple like a disagreement. And I don’t want to scare you.”

“I’m 13 da I can handle it.” Niall smiled softly and wrapped an arm around him.

“I know you can,” Niall pressed a soft protective kiss to the top of his head, mentally preparing himself. “You know that your mum and I were eighteen when you were born. We were so excited to bring you home and to have you in our little family. I finished Uni and worked while your mum took care of you at home. As you got older she’d leave you with nan so she could work too but when you were 3 her business shut down and she had no job.” Killian nodded softly as his father told the story. Niall paused to gauge his reactions before continuing.

“She was devastated and rightfully so, soon she was back to work with a new job but she was constantly on edge and a little more irritable. I thought it was the stress of the job and taking care of a wild three year old. I got a job at the firm and it allowed me to work half days at home, half at the office. I wanted to take some pressure off of her and for a few months it did, and then one day I came home from work and there were police cars out front. It turns out that her new job was selling illegal drugs.” He noticed Killian’s eyes go wide in shock. “She loved you so much but she made mistake and because of that she lost you. She had to serve a jail sentence and when she got out she wanted to see you, but I could tell she had gotten back into when I went to go meet her. After that I told her she wouldn’t get to see you again. Last I heard she’s serving another sentence.”

Killian sat silently, thinking about all the times he had imagined how happy they could be if she came home. He’d spent hours pouring over photos of their family and he had always wished to have that back.

“Did you mean it when you said I couldn’t see her?” he asked after a long pause.

“I meant it yes, that I would never choose for you to see her. But you’re close to being an adult, you can make your own choices now. And if you wanted to see her I can look into it.” Niall replied easily. He hated the idea of ever seeing Carlie again, but he had no right to stop his son from meeting her if it’s what he wanted.

“Okay… so you don’t love her anymore?”

“Mate I will always love her, but I can’t rely on her anymore or trust her.” Killian nodded. “So can I ask you again, is it weird if I date?”

His son shrugged but the sadness in his eyes told Niall his answer. “I guess it’s not weird.” But he knew better, he knew Killian only wanted him to be happy, he nodded with a soft smile.

“Come here,” he said softly as he held his arms open to hug him. “I love you, always will, and I’m always here for ya.”

“I know Da, I love you too.” Niall released him from the embrace and Killian made his way to his bedroom. Once he’d cleaned up the kitchen and stuff Niall started on dinner, reaching for his phone to put on some music. He smiled to himself when he saw a new text from Sophie.

I had such a great time today, what are the chances I get to see you again?

Niall sighed deeply. He knew he could try harder and be secretive about his dating, but that wouldn’t be fair to Killian.

I had an amazing time too, truly . I would love to see you again but things are really complicated right now with Killian I don’t think it’s a good time for me to be dating.

She was quick to reply, the two letters sending his heart into his stomach.

Sophie I’m so sorry, I hope you can understand I have to do what’s best for him

No I get it, maybe some other time then

I’d really like that ☺

Truthfully Sophie’s heart was in pieces. It had been years since she’d met someone she liked as much as Niall. Part of her feared the worst, that he didn’t have a good time and this was his way of not seeing her again. She didn’t think Niall was the type to do that, but then again she didn’t really know Niall.

Weeks went by before Niall saw her again. He went to the school to help plan the auction and a smile crossed his lips the minute he saw her. She stood by the window waiting for everyone to find a seat, smiling as a few others bid her hello. Niall immediately walked over to her.

“Hey…How are you?” he asked politely.

“I’m fine.” Her tone was cold and unfeeling, something Niall hadn’t expected.

“Look I’m really sorry Sophie, you have to understand I wish we could go out again-“

“We could Niall we very easily could but you’re making it complicated.”

“It is complicated, you don’t understand the situation.”

Sophie opened her mouth to reply but the meeting chair called for everyone’s attention. “Just forget it Niall, I’m not interested.” She stalked off to her seat and Niall stood in shock for a moment before grabbing a seat himself. He barely paid attention the whole time, not until he heard his name called.

“Niall are you in?” He looked up to see the co-chair of the auctions staring right at him.

“Uh yeah sure, whatever you need I’ll help,” he replied.

“Great, that puts us at 10 bachelors for the date auction,” she replied writing down his name on a clipboard. Niall swallowed hard not realizing what he’d just signed up for. He glanced a look across the room at Sophie. She couldn’t hide her smirk knowing he had no idea what he was saying yes to.

Niall continued to zone out for the rest of the meeting. A smaller committee had formed but because he was an “auction item” now – the chair’s words not his – he didn’t have to attend any further meetings, which he was happy about. As everyone stood to leave Niall pushed through to find Sophie. He wanted to clear things up but she had already slipped out the door. Niall sighed softly. He let himself out and made his way to the car to drive home.

The day of the auction came faster than he expected. He soon found himself slipping on his one nice jacket and a tie, spending a few extra minutes on his mop of hair trying desperately to calm the gentle curls it formed when he let it get this long. A few drops of gel and a comb usually helped. He told himself he wanted to look nice for the auction but he knew it was all for Sophie. He’d thought about what happened between them and he realized that she deserved to know the truth and why things were complicated.

He arrived at the auction a few minutes early, after dropping Killian at a friend’s house, hoping to pull Sophie aside. But when he got there she was on the top of a ladder reaching to grab a stray balloon that had floated away. He strode across the room to help her and talk to her, but the co-chair caught sight of him and scurried over.

“Niall I am so glad you’re here. There was a mix up with the form and I need you to fill out these new questions for your catwalk.” She shoved a paper and a pen at him, leading him behind the stage.

Niall reluctantly answered the questions, talking about all his favorite romantic moments. He wanted to tear the paper to shreds for reminding him that the one person he wanted wouldn’t speak to him. He turned in the paper and waited with the other bachelors like he was told. Some of them were teachers at the school, some were former students who’d moved on to uni but come back to help, and some were other parents just trying to raise money. He had a chat with a few of them, asking about their answers to the questions and if they had any one they knew would bet on them. He grew more and more anxious as the auction began. They had a few pints for the bachelors to sip on but Niall knew if he had one it would only make him more nervous. Niall wasn’t an arrogant guy but it wasn’t a secret that he was the most conventionally attractive of the group.

Soon they were lining up and the music blared in their ears as they got closer to the stage. A few of the other dads went before him and were getting bids of 50 or 60 pounds. One of the uni students went for 75, Niall didn’t want to think about how wrong that was. As he neared the edge of the stage one of the chairs came shuffling up to him. Holding out a guitar.

“You said you love music I thought you could play! The music teacher assured me that it was already tuned and everything!” She beamed as Niall awkwardly took the instrument. He thought the idea was ridiculous but guitar playing was something he knew and it would give him something to focus on while he was up there. When his turn came he strummed at the guitar, the music lowering so he could be heard and he tuned it slightly as he walked across the stage. The headmaster read off his form, advertising him as a handsome sinlge man with endless talent and charm. Niall held back a laugh as he started strumming a tune he’d written as a teenager. The women in the audience were eyeing him up and down so he changed up his tune and began to play something everyone would know.

“I found a love, for me. Darling just dive right in, follow my lead.” His voice floated over the crowd and soft gasps sounded in return. Niall scanned the room for Sophie, wondering if she was still there. He saw her at the back of the crowd, organizing a few of the silent auction items, but she’d stopped and was looking right at him.

Truthfully Sophie was doing everything she could to not throw up from the wave of affection that coursed through her body as Niall started singing. That song had been her favorite when she was younger. Not that he knew that, but it definitely made it harder to not like him. She wanted to forget him and to move on from this little crush she had, but his smooth and rich voice overwhelmed her, and she found herself wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in his embrace, to smell him, kiss him, love him. As he finished the song the bidding began. She could see a group of moms definitely old enough to be his mother getting ready to bid. She knew he would die of embarrassment if he had to spend an evening with any of them. The amount grew higher and higher, passing 100 pounds in a matter of minutes. The bids began to slow at 125, 15 pounds higher than what the gym coach went for, a she could see the primal desire in the highest bidder’s eyes and she threw up her hand on going twice.

“145.” Everyone turned to look at her. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but the headmaster yelled sold and everyone began clapping.

Niall couldn’t hide his smile as he saw Sophie’s hand go up. This was his chance to apologize. Once the auction finished the men were released out into the mis to introduce themselves to the women who bid for them. Niall made a beeline for Sophie who stood by the refreshment table. She had a glass of wine in her hand and what Niall didn’t know is that it was her third since she’d bid on him. She wanted to drink away those feelings that arose.

“Don’t worry about the date, you’re off the hook.” Her eyes moved slowly due to the alcohol and Niall swallowed.

‘Sophie you did nearly 150 quid on me, I’m gonna take you out,” he countered.

“Don’t want you to,” she replied as she took another sip. Niall steadied her had she sloshed the cup a little too much.

“Then why did you bid?”

“Cause Mrs. Wannabe-Cougar was gonna rip you to pieces if she won.” Niall smiled softly to himself. He could hear the slight hint of jealousy that carried in her voice but he didn’t acknowledge it.

“Well then let me thank you for saving me from my impending doom,” he chuckled. “And so I can apologize for what happened the last time we went out.”

“So you can just get up my hopes and bring them back down again?” She was being nasty and a part of her knew that but she’d had too much wine to stop herself. “I really liked you Niall and you just shut it down because it was too complicated for you. It’s not complicated, you like me or you don’t so just be honest.”

“I do like you, I like you so much Sophie. Please just let me have a chance to make it up to you, what are you doing next Saturday?”

“Chaperoning the school dance.”

“Great I’ll take you to dinner beforehand.”

“No.”

“Sophie please just one chance.”

She regretted all the wine she had. If she were sober she would have held fast, but here, looking at him and his charming smile, she couldn’t say no.

“Fine. But you have to meet me at the dance and chaperone with me. No dinner no flowers no nothing.”

“Great, I’ll see you there.” Niall wanted to stay and talk to her more, but he’d just won a small victory, he wasn’t going to risk it now. He stayed long enough to help clean up before he went home.

When he walked in the door he saw his mother sitting on the sofa.

“Is everything okay? Where’s Killian?” he asked looking down the hall immediately. She got up and put her hands on his arms to calm him.

“Shhh, he’s fine. One of the boys at the party got sick so they had everyone go home, he called me to come get him cause he knew you’d be having a good time tonight and I’d be sitting at home watching the telly,” she assured him. Niall breathed out a sigh of relief. “I swear Niall James you need to worry less. You’ll be going grey before you’re 35.”

“Like you didn’t worry about me and Greg,” he chuckled.

“Yeah well you lot were worth worrying about, that little boy is an angel.”

“I know… that’s why I worry, I don’t want anything to happen to him or for him to stop liking me.”

“Niall he’s a teenager there is going to come a time when he doesn’t like you.” She paused for a moment. “He said you went on a date.”

“It was sort of a date yeah.”

“Is she nice?”

“She’s brilliant mum, absolutely brilliant… but she’s one of his teachers, and I don’t think he’s ready for me to date yet.”

“Oh bollocks he’s a boy he thinks anyone dating is weird! You remember how you and Greg were when I started dating again.” He couldn’t argue with that

“That’s true I guess. I told him about Carlie….”

“He told me, he seems to be handling it well.” She smiled. “So when are you seeing this girl again.

“Saturday, but it’s not a date. She’s not happy with me for not asking her out again.” His mother let out a sigh already knowing how the situation must have arose.

“Niall stop letting Killian get in the way of your happiness. Being a parent doesn’t mean you give up your own life, it means you just have theirs to consider too. If you like this girl then you apologize to her and you make it bloody work.”

“But what about-“

“Nope, this is about you Niall. Not Carlie, not Killian, not anyone but you.” Niall hated when his mother was right. It amazed him how she could still make him feel like a kid in trouble even now at 32. He sighed and nodded.

“Alright... I’ll talk to her. Are y’gonna stay here tonight? I can sleep on the sofa.”

“No I’ve got to head home. I love you sweetheart, take care of you too okay?”

“I promise mum. I love you.” He hugged her goodbye before walking her to the front door. He sighed as he closed the door, leaning back against it. As his eyes closed his mind wandered to Sophie and how cute she looked when she was drunk. He stood up thinking about how drunk she was and quickly reached for his phone to text her.

Hey, I know you had a few tonight just wanted to check that you had a way home tonight

Thank you I did make it home .

Glad to hear . I’ll see you Saturday then .

He slid his phone away and made his way to his room. Within minutes he was asleep in his clothes but he truthfully didn’t care.

The following Saturday came too fast for Niall’s liking. But he dressed in his same jacket, different shirt, and headed out the door at 7:30. It took him a minute to find Sophie But once he caught sight of her navy dress he knew there would be no way he’d lose sight of her again that night. He walked over to her with a soft smile and he was surprised when she returned it.

“Hi,” he said softly.

“Hi,” she replied. “You look nice.”

“You look absolutely beautiful.” A soft flush rose to her cheeks. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“I can’t leave the room,” she replied softly. “But we can talk here.” Niall nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well I wanted to explain why-“

“Ms. Kemper I think some of the boys are making fun of Elizabeth,” a small girl stated, looking up at Sophie with big round eyes. Sophie nodded and turned to Niall.

“I’ll be right back.” She followed the girl across the dance floor to settle the issue. Niall didn’t mind, she was doing her job. But the pattern continued He’d get two sentences out and someone would interrupt. He was starting to get frustrated. He was grateful when more chaperones showed up so Sophie wasn’t the only one being turned to. He chuckled in annoyance when the DJ slowed the music to talk, interrupting him yet again.

“Alright you guys we’re going to slow things down with a throwback song. Lads pick a girl y’fancy and ask her to dance.”

Niall smirked and held out his hand. “Shall we?” Sophie blushed but she took his hand and walked with him to the edge of the dance floor.

“Maybe you’ll finally get to tell me what’s on your mind.”

Neither of them knew what to expect for the throwback, but it wasn’t Ariana Grande.

“Dear god is this what they’re calling a throwback?” she asked in shock. “I remember when this song came out that wasn’t that long ago!”

“Which one is this?” Niall asked trying to recall the title before the lyrics started.

“Tattooed Heart.”

“Oh that’s right! Bloody hell this song isn’t even fifteen years old yet how is it a throwback?”

“I have no idea,” Sophie laughed. “I bet you can’t hit the high notes.”

“Oh really? Cause I sing this song in the shower everyday.” Sophie laughed as he chuckled, her forehead coming to rest on his shoulder as they swayed. “No it doesn’t have to be forever just as long as I’m the name on your tattooed heart.” Niall scrunched his face as he tried to hit the high notes and Sophie laughed even more.

Silence fell over them after a moment and Sophie took a deep breath.

“So what have you been trying to tell me?” she asked after the pause.

“Right… well I’ve been beating around the bush… I just need to come out with it. Killian’s mum is the reason why things are complicated.” He saw the hurt flash across her face. “She’s not involved I promise, but she is a huge part of why I need to be careful with dating. When Killian was three she got into drugs, and when he was four she got arrested for dealing. I almost lost custody of Killian at first. Since then she’s been in and out of rehab facilities and prison. And before this year I never told Killian, I didn’t want him thinking of his mum horribly you know?” Sophie nodded, her expression full of compassion. “But because of that he always thought there was a chance of us getting back together. So me starting to date was rough for him and I talked to him and I was worried he wasn’t ready so that’s why I told you things were complicated.”

“Niall I’m so sorry for being cold to you, I should have trusted your judgment-“

“No Soph, this is on me, I should have given you a better explanation and I also shouldn’t have just pushed you away. I forget sometimes that I’m allowed to do things for me, they don’t all have to be centered around Killian.”

“We can take things as slow as you need to. I want Killian to be comfortable too.”

“I hope you know I really do like you Soph.”

“I like it when you call me that,” she smiled. The music slowed but they didn’t stop dancing. Niall’s head dipped down slightly just as hers tipped up. He Felt anxiety bubble inside him, he hadn’t kissed a woman in 8 years but everything about this felt right. His lips gently pressed against hers as the music came to a stop, their swaying doing the same. He knew it would be a long road dating Sophie but he knew it would all be for the best.

#1dff #cliche challenge #niall

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thesinglesjukebox · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

DUA LIPA - PHYSICAL

[7.50]

It's okay! Move that boogie body!

Leah Isobel: It is a dark and stormy night. In a sinister science lab located somewhere in Carmen Sandiego's plush pomo lair, a pop singer plugs in a neon light, shrugs into a next-season Gaultier lab coat and gets to work. In the reflection of her gold-tinted goggles we see her add one (1) part Extract of "Into You," one (1) part Juice of Newton-John, and four (4) drops of Synthesizer Spice into a contoured beaker. She turns on the flame of a Bunsen burner; stream gushes from her concoction like a geyser, emitting a high, keening refrain. She whispers a few luscious words into the steam -- "diamond," "sssimulation," "adrenaline" -- but her experiment still lacks a certain something. Then -- BOOM! -- in a thundercrash of lightning, it hits her. Eureka! She turns and sees her reflection illuminated in the glass of an emergency axe container, kept onsite in case of fire. "Well," she chuckles to herself as she breaks the glass with a four-inch stiletto heel, "I am creating something... hot." Axe in hand, she chops the neon light into pieces and stuffs the shards, now glittering like a million sequined dancefloors, into the beaker. With the addition of this Decoction of Disco, her potion bubbles... it burbles... then KABOOM: it explodes the entire building and half of the surrounding city! She stands in the wreckage as thunder splits the sky above and sirens wail in the distance. We see Dua's eyes glow green before she throws her head back to the sky and screams: "GAY RIIIIIGHTS!" [9]

William John: Probably the best example of what parts of the Internet's stan culture would facetiously refer to as "gay rights" from a mainstream musical artist since... the last Dua Lipa single, or, failing that, "Into You." Like those precedents, "Physical" is camp but magisterial; playful but extremely melodramatic; sweeping, dance floor ready, and dripping with an exultant swagger. Her reminder to "hold on, just a little tighter" at the bridge is, truthfully, a hollow gesture; at that stage, the listener is so deeply embroiled in her glorious disco caprice as to not really be capable of gripping anything at all. [10]

Jackie Powell: It couldn't be clearer that Dua Lipa had something to prove not only to herself, but to the pop music intelligentsia on her sophomore offering. What has struck me most about the Future Nostalgia cycle is how Dua is executing every facet of it with confidence. On this track, she's not afraid of hitting notes that eclipse the breadth of her previous singles, especially on the bridge. "Physical" is a representative offering of exactly what she's aiming to prove. Each track we've heard so far reflects a different decade accompanied with a modern polish. I don't think I'm the only one who believes Olivia Newton-John's '80s exercise sexual metaphor smash "Physical" deserves the tribute it's getting here. There's a clear homage paid to her and to Patti LaBelle on Lipa's own "Physical." I'm going to interpret her lyric "We created something phenomenal" as a bit of a double-entendre. Not only is it about sex in the narrative of the track, but it's a comment on Lipa's approach to this era and her confidence on every single part of it. The sexual symbolism isn't just in the lyrics, but also in the track's composition and the narrative communicated in the visual treatment. The vocal highs that she hits on the bridge represent a climax musically and sexually. She has so much confidence in the visual treatment, she spends most of it braless. That takes guts. [9]

Tobi Tella: Dua Lipa's perceived lack of personality has turned out to actually be lack of a schtick preventing her from artistically evolving, something many of her peers are plagued with. Also, I've died and gone to gay heaven. [9]

Alfred Soto: The way Dua Lipa's unexpected bon mots and smoky sultriness ride the beat and compete with the strings compensate for a production too dressed up in leg warmers and headbands for my taste -- I mean, her exhortations are more fearsome than erotic. [7]

Julian Axelrod: Pop's '80s revival arms race has escalated to its natural endpoint: the accidental exhumation of Olivia Newton-John. I wish Dua Lipa had used "let's get physical" in a more literal iteration; singing it over hyperdrive synths guarantees it'll be never played in its intended setting, especially when she has half the energy of ONJ. But she hit the mark where it counts: This is going to rule spin classes for the rest of the year. [6]

Brad Shoup: A throwback training-montage track that suggests sex but is really about dancing and Olivia Newton-John erasure. This is Stranger Things pop. [5]

Thomas Inskeep: Sex is natural, sex is fun, sex is best when soundtracked by throbbing '80s synths. [6]

Ashley Bardhan: Okay, fine, I enjoy horny music. Sue me! This song is what would happen if ABBA was brought back to life as a bunch of hot 20-year-olds in little shirts from Fashion Nova. The "let's get physical" chorus feels a little lazy since it's a direct lift from Olivia Newton-John's 1981 hit, but this is a great song to listen to while thinking about that video of Charli XCX holding poppers. No complaints here. [7]

Alex Clifton: I've underestimated Dua Lipa. Her first album had some hits and misses, but Future Nostalgia is shaping up to be one of the best pop releases of 2020 based on the strength of its singles. "Physical" is a cascade of rainbow lights in a roller rink and makes me long to go out to a club, one where I can get down in a huge crowd of people and dance my white-girl ass off poorly. I'm an extreme introvert, so anything that makes me want to leave the house and be around strangers is powerful stuff indeed. It's a little cheesy, but who cares? It's a love letter to the '80s with all the campiness a song citing Olivia Newton-John should have. I'm desperately in love with Dua Lipa after hearing this, and I have a feeling "Physical" will be one of my favourite songs of the year. [9]

Stephen Eisermann: Dua Lipa has quietly become the pop superstar that so many of us wanted Carly Rae to be. Both women make incredible music, but it is Dua who has found commercial success; after hearing "Physical," it seems pretty obvious why. It's a retro-laden, power-pop track that is extraordinary only in the way Dua delivers it. What should be pedestrian instead is hypnotic, infectious, and oh so delicious. [8]

Lauren Gilbert: I promised a friend I'd blurb this song, and now that I've sat down to write it, I have nothing to say. It is a perfect pop song -- Dua knocks it out of the park on this record. I keep getting distracted from writing jamming to the track. I'm dancing while lying down on my couch. She created something phenomenal; we are left with no choice but to stan. [10]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: I've justified Dua Lipa's dearth of personality in years past, but this is where things don't add up: her dead-eyed singing makes no sense during the chorus, whose synths lack the fervor to make up for clinical vocal melodies. Around this time last year, we had Lizzo's "Juice"; now we have "Physical" as an example of '80s pastiche that only feels like it exudes energy and passion and charm. [2]

Will Adams: It's neat to have a single that's its own Initial Talk remix, but the synthpop revivalism is a bit too literal, to the point of putting all its chips on an Olivia Newton-John quote. It's not until the bridge -- "keep on DANCING!" -- where the drama locks in and starts, but only starts, to feel real. [6]

Kylo Nocom: Dua Lipa, determined more than ever to win the Popjustice £20 Music Prize, accidentally transforms into Alice Chater in the process. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: If "Physical" being by Dua Lipa wasn't hypertargeted enough to the Popjustice set, is that the synth progression from Saint Etienne's "No Cure for the Common Christmas" in the intro and beneath the chorus? It's certainly the same height of drama. The track attached isn't quite so charged: a little too Lady Gaga circa "Applause" and a little too Peloton instructor quoting Olivia Newton-John for absolutely no reason besides the culture deciding at some point to make the phrase a permanent, meaningless meme. (The song doesn't even sound particularly '80s; the disco strings are the decade prior, and the vocal squiggles on the verse are so specifically 2016 a time traveler's on their way to erase them.) Dua Lipa only betrays a personality on the spoken-word bridge; ironic how that and the vaporous intro, the least physical things on this track, are the most thrilling. [7]

Vikram Joseph: The intro feels like a prickling at the back of your neck, the one-line pre-chorus feels like plummeting six floors in a broken elevator, and the chorus is such a headrush you can practically smell the poppers: "Physical"'s thrills might be straightforward, but they're visceral as fuck. There are vintage Lady Gaga vibes, the "come on!"s are surely a nod to "We Are Your Friends," and the whole thing reminds me, inexplicably, of Bon Jovi's "It's My Life." But Dua Lipa is starting to make this all seem effortless, and the panache with which she delivers "Physical" easily pulls it clear of the gravitational field of its forebears. [9]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: "Physical" dares us to be the boldest versions of ourselves. It finds itself at the perfect intersection of confidence and lust. Dua Lipa is flirting with you with a playfulness she can only possess because she already knows you're going home together -- and she won't let you leave until the dancing is done. Dancing here is instinct, it's synths that sound as sweet as they do sinister, it's salty like the sweat that rolls down your forehead after you've been, well, physical. Dua Lipa is crushing the Confessions on a Dance Floor album that I've long been waiting for Lady Gaga to make. Dance floor music has long been my site of refuge and catharsis, so it's refreshing to be reminded that it can still sound so immediately, eminently thrilling. [9]

Kayla Beardslee: This doesn't quite reach the heights of "Don't Start Now," but damn it comes close. "Physical" should, in theory, be a cookie-cutter pop girl release, but Dua proves once again that she is the most important element in her music. The producers are doing everything right too, but who else could pull off her endearing smirk in "common love isn't for us" or that wonderful growl in "follow the noise"? And Dua takes us through a transcendental bridge that highlights the best qualities of her voice: singing simple lyrics that say everything they need to, she's breathless yet confident, desperate for touch yet satisfied with the musical world she's helped to create. Something phenomenal, indeed: this rollout has been a joy to follow. [9]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Physical" takes the opposite approach to "Don't Start Now" -- while that song's studio version swallows up its singer in a beautifully constructed, sterile disco pastiche (the live versions and remixes are much better), turning her into just one more retro cog, "Physical" makes her the center of attention. The production around her is good enough (the synth preset change right before the chorus starts is especially nice), but not particularly coherent or hooky on its own. In the vacuum left, Dua gets to have more fun, charismatically switching between vocal styles and walking around like she owns the place. [8]

Jibril Yassin: A powerhouse vocal colliding headfirst with production that's neither plodding nor limp. It's a song that's meant to feel like a blockbuster and after a few failed tries, it's thrilling to hear Dua Lipa finally nail the landing and sound like the superstar she wants to be. [7]

Michael Hong: "Physical" is magnetic. Its pulse is unrelenting, its atmosphere is shadowy and captivating, and Dua Lipa gives possibly her best vocal performance. There's no sense of the up-and-coming performer who delivered everything with stolid execution, instead, "Physical" is a sly wink of a pre-chorus leading to a forceful command: "baby, keep on dancing like you ain't got a choice." Dua Lipa is at the helm, all thoughts and any other desires are out the window, and the night is neverending. [7]

Joshua Lu: Several of Dua Lipa's past hit songs have relied on a marketable veneer of cool: "New Rules" works because she's the straight-talker friend giving advice, "Don't Start Now" necessitates a stoic character who can't be bothered to fret about her ex, and even on collaborations like "One Kiss" does Dua employ a rather unemotional voice, like she's a blank canvas for Calvin Harris' more playful and engaging production. "Physical" feels like such a departure for Dua not just because of its obvious throwback sound, but because this veneer of cool is completely torn down when the song reaches its rushing chorus. She sounds more and more desperate as her voice climbs and the synths soar above her, and her cries of "come on" ring as desperate instead of dominant. The song is indebted to pop titans of yesteryears (Olivia Newton-John obviously inspired the title, but the theatrics of the song feel more indebted to Bonnie Tyler or Patti Labelle) to the point of it not really feeling like a Dua song, but she sells it all so convincingly that it feels like a natural fit. It's part pop song, part epic showdown, and I look forward to Dua continuing to push herself to the forefront of mainstream pop music greatness. [9]

Scott Mildenhall: Little wonder that Lipa's so keen to get physical, given that she's "dreaming in a simulation" -- her focus seems to be on the former, since the latter exemplifies the aimlessness of the verses in comparison to the locked-and-loaded chorus. That has its thrills, yet never feels as loose as seems intended. "Physical" comes across too in love with the idea of being a kind of Perfect Pop to actually be it; an anthem for kinetics developed via science textbook. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Dua Lipa #pop #music #music review

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ivyveil · 6 years ago

Text

Feeling Spirited

the one where it's a throwback to when Harry and Y/N were just friends and Y/N's drink helps her forget

A/N: A Continuation of LITP (masterlist here) TW: alcohol

The sky was dark. Had been for weeks now, the clouds clustering together to formulate something thicker than the water making up their essence. A fog was settling, clouding up your thoughts or ability to rationalize any of your actions. Acting with blind impulsiveness didn’t align with the rest of your usual characteristics; even your wildest nights generally took prior planning, but bottles had been a source of solace against the bitterness of confusion, the anxiety of life.

It hadn’t been an issue, not really, because you knew how to handle yourself when drunk, and knew the reaches of your limitations with alcohol. But trouble started brewing when your 5:30 pm started when everyone else began their 9:30 am. And when you thought you were only going for one more drink, but ended up with four glasses in your sink.

The drinks in the morning were simply to calm your nerves, settle the anxiety bubbling in your lungs. And the one at lunch was to offset the chance you would freak out in the middle of your presentation, and the second was because the restaurant offered you a free one.

Was only polite to accept.

It had spiraled into drinks at sporadic times throughout the day, never so many as to make you stumble while walking back to your desk, but certainly enough to only need one or two more when you went home, to slip over the edge. Even looking at a bottle seemed to get your mind in a safe place.

Nestled between the space of your wall and the bedroom bookcase, was a plastic bottle of Smirnoff, half-empty and pitifully groaning as it was tugged out. The books watched silently, probably feeling much superior because they were considered a more refined pastime.

The vodka didn’t seem to give a fuck.

You winced considerably when it popped out of its hiding spot, the familiar panic gripping your bones that you were a teenager again. Hiding alcohol from parents, keeping it in safe spots so any stranger’s eyes would only spot a pristine home, a girl who respected cleanliness and experienced minimal, if any, breakdowns.

The truth was always nestled somewhere deeper, whether it was beneath clothing in drawers, behind bookshelves, in the back of your bathroom cabinet, or underneath your bed. The truth usually tasted like shit, too.

That you were in your 20s and continuing the practice of secret drinking, of playing pretend to appease some authority that wouldn’t give a damn, now that your license said you were of age - it both amused and disgusted you. A restricted sense of adulthood, surely, a lack of freedom to openly be the drunken mess you felt inside. Perhaps it was acceptable to turn a blind eye to it in adolescence, but when you had become a regular at the liquor store, it felt more like a ruse.

Suppose it replaced your blood, you wondered, holding your arm up to the lamplight and inspecting the hint of veins against your skin. Suppose it congealed in the veins, a substrate for your demons to thrive on. Perhaps it could be better than the life of intangible anxiety that crept against each wall, became every shadow, lurked in everyone’s unsuspecting glance.

The nerves were rattling in your teeth, you could feel the invisible bugs of anxiety nipping at your chest and legs. If this was what it took to become calm, maybe it wasn’t so bad. Only a few drinks, more people probably did it than they would confess to.

“It was another shit work day,” you divulged to your cactus, padding back from the bedroom, to the living room, only to shlump against the couch. The cactus only watched, perhaps having come to the conclusion its advice would never be properly considered and it was only a waste of breath. Or photosynthesis. You weren’t sure on the particulars of horticultural language.

“I can’t scratch off how fuckin’ lonely everything feels,” you continued, mindlessly itching at your legs, not needing to be prompted by anything in particular.

Your apartment felt hollow, exasperated by the emptiness in both mind and soul. Curling up on the couch with some bottle had become a ritual, of sorts, yet you weren’t sure what good could come of it.

A shrine of glass and plastic bottles decorated the spaces above the kitchen cabinets, around the corner from where you were presently cuddled. Each one tallied a few night’s of shame, but cumulatively you supposed it was a nice Pinterest trick. Show the nonexistent guests how bougie you were, buying cheap whiskey and vodka. Make them think you had parties all the time, when they were only parties of one.

Your glass was ready, waiting patiently on the table, as you filled it to the brim with the nasty clear liquid.

“I think you’re my true love,” you cocked your head at the glass, taking it in for all its perks and limitations. Regardless, it was still there with you. All that mattered, to an extent.

You couldn’t really stand the shit, had to stick your tongue out like a fucking cat after each shot to bear the taste down your throat. But drinking wasn’t particularly for enjoyment, not these days. It was like a medicine to keep yourself calm; it felt like your whole life revolved around it, because to an extent, it did. But your sanity was on the brink of collapsing, and you were determined to do whatever you could to keep yourself calm.

It was at that moment, with your eyes squished shut and your tongue smacking against the roof of your mouth to distract from the sensation, that your phone buzzed. It was also on the table, next to the stack of marbled coasters and the multitude of TV remotes (why did services give you three remotes for one machine, you still didn’t understand).

I’ve missed you. Wanna come out tonight? x.

Harry and his mates, the group you loved and hated equally, would gather for beers at the Ale Tavern each Thursday evening, a letting-off-steam of sorts before the glorious Friday blessed their workload. Harry had met them through various means, photoshoots, interviews, or just networking events, and had hodge-podged the group together so you two would have a social setting to hang out when he was in town.

Which was, you reminded yourself, mostly because your friends list was lacking at the moment. Most of them, dear to your heart, had received promotions or were traveling around the world for the majority of their work, while you waited at home for nothing to happen. And for nothing to happen again. And maybe once more, for the heck of it.

Some of the group’s members, the ones teetering on the outskirts like leeches, looking for a better opportunity, often treated you like you were off, a bit. A screw loose in the mind, an instability in your essence.

When words came out of your mouth, their eyes would instinctively widen, as if your breath was mixed with unregulated insanity and electric nonsense, so you’d typically keep to yourself. Was the only way to survive the brutal bar nights, with small talk and curious glances at your best friend, who would spend the whole night dodging questions and smiling for photos.

Harry found your silence weird, every time, since you were often the life of the party within his other social groups. You felt his other pals were more genuine, allowing you to exist unapologetically. Plus, small talk was practically banned at those hang-outs, which was another reason you felt you got along well with them.

With your Ale Tavern group, though, Harry had the tendency to nudge you gently, when you were in the corner of the booth stirring a Long Island, and ask you what was wrong. Which would, in turn, increase your unwillingness to be engage with more people -- because why were you well-known for being strange, why couldn’t you simply be a dilution of yourself and pass as OK?

Another buzz, another text.

You poured another shot.

I’m proud of you btw, you’re doing really well. x. :)

Another buzz, another text.

You winced before knocking the shot back, your tongue shooting out on instinct after.

Speaking of, should I come over? If you don’t want to be around drinks…

Giggling to yourself at the unfortunate timing, you swayed a bit on your couch and repositioned your legs to tuck under your ass. One of the green blankets draped over the couch fell to the floor during your transition, and your eyes trained on that spot, waiting to see if it returned.

It didn’t. Gravity was a fucker, only headed one way.

Harry was sweet to care, truly, but if he saw you in this state you knew how it would go. The disappointment would swell in his eyes, he would gently try to pry the bottle out of your hands. Thinking about the situation, even as a possibility, made your fingers curl against the plastic a bit more stubbornly.

“It’s too late, I’m nothin to be proud of,” you informed your phone, frowning as you attempted to scroll up further in your texts with him. There was nothing, though, but it didn’t register until it buzzed once more, and your scrolling resulted in a new text appearing.

I’m just gonna come over. Is that okay? xx.

“Okie dokie,” you mumbled, poking each letter with your index finger until the message was spelled. You sent it.

The cactus groaned in the back, whispering to the lamp, “He is going to be so fucking pissed when he sees her like this.”

Harry was the one who consistently found you passed out at the bar a few streets away from your home. The bartender had found your phone the first time, when Harry was calling (and the ringtone was an obnoxious version of What Makes You Beautiful that you had stumbled upon once, not an important detail but once that made him blush at the time) and had informed Harry that his friend would probably need help leaving, given your state. His number became a regular one to call.

So Harry would help you home, rub over your face gently with a washcloth in a hearty attempt to get off your makeup, and hold your hair back when you came to and felt the drinks for a second time.

Quiet pity and a particular sort of confused hurt would reflect in his eyes, when you had the guts and stability to look at them. He was usually under the impression you were staying home, getting over a cold, busy with work, etc. - and that was why you weren’t able to make it to some mutual friend’s birthday party. After all, that was what you had told him, anyway.

Neither you nor Harry spoke about those nights, when it was the morning after, or even any night after.

You had sent him a text, weeks ago, after guilt had rusted away the stubbornness in your bones. You informed him you were going to try and stay sober for a bit, not liking the way it had made you feel. He was happy about it, it seemed, because the worry was absent from his smile the next time you ran into each other. His hug was a bit tighter, but then again, that was just Harry being Harry.

Your soberness lasted four days. Then you were back, standing in front of the cabinet, with that pathetic acceptance you loathed about yourself. How one aspect of your soul could so resiliently rule the rest, made no sense. You didn’t know how to fight it, though, and so the glasses and bottles came out once more.

You gave your cactus the most awful side-eye you could muster, before extending yourself fully out on the couch. Your fingertips felt like they were touching clouds, clouds intermingled with the deep current of black waters, which meant you had drunk a bit more than you had meant to. An accident, surely, but it didn’t stop you from rolling over on your side (and almost off the couch), huffing at the bottle.

It glugged like a drunk whale trying to drown, pouring out another shot.

Someone was stroking your hair. It felt nice, the rhythm of their fingertips against the curls, stopping at the edges of your forehead, before moving back and gently starting again. The motion was kept on one spot of your head, as well, which was a personal favorite of yours. The movement throughout the whole head was just craziness. Everything had a greater chance of messing up when it came to full-head-hair-strokes. And only one person had heard that drunken rant before (except for your cactus, but that usually kept to itself about your rants. As most cacti do.)

“Yeh up?” someone mumbled, throat thick. They sounded half-asleep, and their fingers slowed as they waited for an answer.

Your head was still smashed against a wave of Smirnoff, too blurred to put two and two together and recognize the need for a response. Anyway, you didn’t appreciate the fingers stopping, so you grunted softly to signal that.

They didn’t continue, this person seemed really fucking set on getting you speaking. Your mouth felt glued, in a thicker, denser sense of the word. Your tongue felt perfectly content resting against the back of your teeth, your lips staying shut.

It was when you became steadily more aware of your surroundings, how it wasn’t a pillow under your head but denim, smooshed against your cheek. How your head was sloped up from the rest of your body, how a blanket was tucked around your person and even your toes were covered by the tassles on the end. You were on someone’s lap, surely, and in the depths of your mind you wondered, with a slight giggle, how scandalous a drunken night alone, in the comforts of your home, could get?

“Who’s asking?” you managed to croak, your fingers reaching outwards from the confines of the cozy blanket, seeking the bottle you knew would’ve been hidden at this point. The question was pointless, you knew him by his cologne. Hell, you knew him from how he stroked your hair, for Christ’s sake.

It was the improbable sense in your gut that hoped it was someone like Chris Evans who had you cuddled up against them. Maybe he was in the midst of robbing your home (Marvel might’ve gone through budget cuts, it happened to the best) before stumbling across your sleeping body. Maybe he found your Chinese takeout, too, because you were awful at remembering to eat leftovers. Although it would be disturbing on most levels of sanity, you could find the loveliness in the situation.

If it were Chris Evans, that is.

“Harry. ‘Ve got long hair, ‘m yeh best friend. Yeh told me I could come ove’’,” Harry teased quietly. It was sort of unsettling, how humor was in the words but his actual voice was void of emotion. He was worried.

You were quiet, unsure if this was a situation in which Harry would take over the conversation if you stayed silent long enough. There weren’t many words you had to say, anyway, your present situation must have been clear enough when he walked in. Plus, his knee was nice to rest your head against. Speaking would just lead to eventual motion, which was already turning your stomach at the thought.

The two of you listened to the distant hum of your freezer kicking into place from the kitchen, the soft rattling of ice cubes tumbling into the tray you had set out. Harry seemed content on waiting for a response, of any type, or maybe to see if you fell asleep. It was entirely possible this entire conversation had happened earlier since Harry’s arrival, and you had passed out again.

If you were to move your head, you felt, something really unfortunate would happen. Like vomiting. Or the world ending. Or having to look Harry in the eyes.

His fingers stopped fully, just resting against your cheek. They were embers, most definitely, and you wondered if you could start a trend for Harry Styles Cheek Burns. Probably wouldn’t catch on. Bit of a health hazard, perhaps. It was difficult to know for sure, because once a thought formulated in your mind it seemed to expand outwards into the galaxy, becoming so diffused in the stars you weren’t able to piece it back together again.

“What’s been goin’ on, Y/N?”

His eyes were on the back of your neck, trailing up to your cheek. It wasn’t unsettling, how you could feel his gaze with your mind – or, at least, it didn’t feel so, at that moment, with him. It was just natural, how you understood him.

He sounded tired. He sounded like he had been working on asking, for a while, and the slight strangled noise that twisted the softness of his voice signaled that you had really fucked up. This wasn’t a joke, anymore, it wasn’t for shits and giggles like it was when you would out-drink his Irish friends at the bar.

All Harry wanted was an answer, a few words so he could just know what to do. Alcohol was an issue with a few other friends, ranging from binge drinkers to alcoholics, and Harry was comfortable enough spending nights dry with them. Essentially, he was comfortable because they told him where their boundaries were, and he could navigate those easily.

Yours, on the other hand, were completely blank. How it felt, to watch you slip out of your daily self, into some shell that no one else seemed to notice, it drove him crazy. How was he supposed to ask why his best friend was leaving, how he could stop it?

There was no way Harry could order you to quit drinking. To be honest, he didn’t know if it was just alcohol, and some subconscious level of his mind was on alert for that phone-call. Another one, with you shlumped in some dim-lit bar with seedy men clinging on the walls with tongues snaking out, sniffing the vulnerability in the air. Or an even worse phone call.

Shudders erupted from the base of his neck, down to his spine. He didn’t even want to think about it.

He didn’t know how to save someone who didn’t want to be saved. Someone who wouldn’t even open up to him about it. He wasn’t sure how to respond with you not talking to him about it. You two were best friends, he told you things his own mother didn’t know about. What could be so bad, you couldn’t tell him?

Entering your home to find you, initially unresponsive, on the couch with a hand dangled against the carpet, a bottle clutched in your fingertips, was nothing short of terrifying. His heart had plummeted through his stomach, his chest felt tight and he wondered, with the worst case scenario always coming first, if you were alive.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck. C’mon Y/N...this isn’t funny, c’mon wake the fuck up - oh my god, c’mon don’t leave me here, wake up.”

Helplessness could only sharpen its hold on his throat with time, his voice growing steadily higher-pitched, when he didn’t know what had happened. After gently (and then roughly) shaking your shoulders, and finding that you weren’t unconscious but simply napping (“I thought yeh were dead, Jesus Y/N, don’t do that again”) and he had chuckled a bit when your eyebrows came together, not quite stirring enough to register his panic, and you had dipped again in the haze of dreams.

The smile on his face seemed maddening, the swelling tears in his vision seeming more appropriate for the situation, but he supposed it was simply a reaction to overwhelming ‘what the fuck’ feelings. This wasn’t one of your stupid jokes, the type where he would laugh without realizing because you had laughed at yourself, which just triggered him to laugh more and – no, this was something beyond the scope of seriousness that he knew how to deal with.

You were fine. You were fine. You were okay. It was just a little too much to drink, the coldness of your hands was just normal. You were fine.

He had lowered himself onto the couch, moving your head to rest on his lap, so his fingertips could feel your pulse as he stroked your hair with the other. Authorities weren’t needed, he had felt, you were just napping. (He had still texted his family doctor, though, just to make sure.)

“Just had a drink o’ two,” you whispered, staring at the wall.

He hummed, his fingers resuming the strokes against your cheek. Harry could tell it calmed you down, how your breath evened out and your eyebrows relaxed. Even as you were coming out of the safe space of intoxicated padding, even when the glimmer of soberness clung to your eyes, he needed to feel you physically there.

His heart hadn’t stopped feeling tight.

“Wanna tell me why?”

“I don’t know.”

The words left you in short gasps, as your fingers curled against the denim of his jeans. Your eyes stayed open, glazed over slightly, somewhat with tears and somewhat with that emptiness that had been ripping you apart lately. How was something so non-existent so prevalent in your existence? And why was it that all you had nowadays, was a bunch of ‘how’s and not much else?

Harry nodded slowly, sniffling quietly. Maybe you didn’t know the words, you couldn’t explain what you were feeling. Maybe he was beginning to understand that he couldn’t understand. That the spaces of your world were compressing in so many angles, it was dizzying the amount, the walls were closing and you were the only one in the room. He couldn’t enter it, he couldn’t pull you out.

“Do yeh need to throw up?”

The familiarity in the question, it pulled from his lips without hesitation or urgency. He was used to this, you realized, guilt flooding your senses and kicking some of the haze away. Harry’s nights with you were, nowadays, commonly associated with toilets and toothbrushes, with him gently prying a bottle out of your hand and listening to your rambles that mainly consisted of the various alcohol brands you could think of.

You nodded, knowing the nausea hadn’t gripped your eyes shut yet, but it would soon.

“’Kay,” he sighed, raising his arms so you could scoot out, “let’s go on, then.”

Once more, it felt too much like a routine. Like a horror movie where you were lost as to how you got here - in a schedule that felt both so normal and incredibly wrong.

He shouldn’t have to do this, he shouldn’t have to be here.

It was all you could think of, a looped tape in your mind, with his broad hands carefully holding onto your hips to help you maintain your balance. (You had started refusing to be carried to the bathroom, after Harry hadn’t made it in time. Wasn’t one of your better nights, that was for sure.)

Harry had even gotten in the loose habit of braiding your hair as you were bent over the toilet, your legs immediately going around and him sitting close behind. It was reminiscent of those massage trains girls used to do at sleepovers, but more ‘adult’ and trashy.

“C’mon, feel like that one was the last?...No, ‘kay, that’s fine, yeh just gotta get it all out, hm?” Once your hair was plaited, his hands would softly rub against your back until you nodded, signaling it was over for the night. He would normally be quiet for it all, having spent the night clubbing with you and attempting to switch out your drinks with waters, but this time was different.

“I want yeh to do what makes yeh happiest.”

You had rested your cheek against the cool lid, not feeling the next wave of nausea. It seemed like you were in the clear, your head’s pounding had substantially lessened, but you didn’t move. Harry had more to say.

“And this, this isn’t it. You’re the best friend I could ask for, Y/N...I can’t watch yeh like this, anymore.”

You sniffled, nodding bleakly and with a shaky hand, you wiped underneath your eyes, reaching up blindly to pull at a few tissues to mop up the mess on your face. Harry’s hands drew to a still, before gently resting on your shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah? Talk ‘bout it in the mornin...yeh can call off work, and we can figure it out,” he promised. Harry made a mental note to email his therapist for some recommendations for alcohol abuse therapists, just for resource options.

When you had the courage to look behind you, the voice in your mind faintly recognizing you hadn’t looked at him directly that night, the first thing that caught your attention was the tear streaks down his reddened cheeks. His eyes seemed bigger than normal, looking at you cautiously.

Harry gave you an attempt at a smile, the wells only overspilling with the action. He gave a little shrug with his shoulders, as if saying ‘what can be done about it?’ before patting your shoulder twice.

Hastily wiping at his cheeks, Harry slowly rose to his feet, sniffling, all while you were still curled against the toilet. You watched him silently, the disgust that typically followed your night’s routine finally catching up and settling in your bones. If you could crawl out of your skin, you would’ve, no second thought.

Harry held out a hand for you to hold onto, carefully helping you up, waiting as you wearily brushed your teeth and gargled some Listerine, and led you over to your bedroom. No words were exchanged between either of you, but as the covers were pulled back, you pulled your arm out from Harry’s light grip, staring at him.

“You shouldn’t have to do this,” you shook your head, “I’m sorry I’m like this. You shouldn’t have to do this.”

Harry had moved over, settling in on his side of the bed, pushing one of the pillows over to your side (he only liked having one, for some reason). When you spoke though, he immediately started shaking his head.

“Stop it, won’t hear it. I’m here ‘cause I wanna be...if I didn’t wanna be, I wouldn’t. I care about yeh, want you safe.” It was clipped, not unkind, but to the point.

You didn’t respond, letting the night cover over the conversation like a drape, a thick blanket taking over your eyelids. Nestling under the covers, feeling the warmth of another human being to your left...hearing the rustling of the covers as Harry got comfortable beneath them…

You felt the cover lift from your body as Harry moved underneath it, his arm securing around your waist and pulling you comfortably closer to his chest. His head tucked against your shoulder, his lips pressed familiarly against your back. You smelled like alcohol, as if it stained your pores, but he didn’t mind too much. Just liked knowing where you were, that you were safe.

“Harry?”

Words felt different in the complete dark, more confessional. It was safer, to say these sorts of things. As if they could be more easily written off, than it spoken during the day. Your mind was shutting down for the night, you could see the swirling storms of dreams out against the grey horizon. But you just needed to say...

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. For not leaving me.”

“’Course. ’M forever yours,” he mumbled, holding you tighter.

“Goodnight, Haz.”

“Night, love.”

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A/N: Check the masterlist of LITP here, and let me know your thoughts if you would like!

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #archive of our own #mine #one direction fanfic #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic

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touchlotsofbutts · 6 years ago

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Tay’s fav new artists, songs, albums of 2019; decade favs too <3

Hello friends. I have listened to 20,000 songs this year (#brag). Some of them I have listened to more than once, and some of them are all together on one really good album I like. Here's some lists of the songs, albums, and people who make them that I liked a lot.

For your listening convenience: a Spotify playlist with the artists, songs, and albums in question. One song from each artist, one song from each album: checka me out

5 new artists from (roughly) this year (unordered)

Slayyyter

Slayyyter is the logical conclusion of the early 2000's pop wave, absolutely bubble gum but no longer pulling and punches with its sexual desire. "He wanna get in my guts" indeed.

100 Gecs

I love high energy, I love noise, and I love catchy. Synthesize major electronic musical movements of the last 10 years and then kick that in the dick and you get 100 Gecs.

Stef Chura

A consistent AF album, with great single songs and a slow procession as well, I'm very hyped for more!

Glass Beach

This band is cutting edge, they know a shitton about music, their hour long album feels like it's only 30 minutes, it teleports you away.

Nilüfer Yanya

Clearly someone who is making music with a succinct style and aesthetic, I find it great to see a full album form around (relatively) simple concepts like an imaginary mental health spa.

10 Songs from this year (ordered)

10. "Good News (Ya-Ya Song)" by MUNA

Unexpectedly a smash hit for me, this is such a simple song but something in the melody stirs a deep and warming feeling within me.

9. "Falling Down The Stairs Of Your Smile" by The New Pornographers

New Pornographers always have great singles. Their albums never quite capture the same feeling, and it breaks my heart every time. Still love the band.

8. "Can't Believe The Way We Flow" by James Blake

A many month throwback, this song was a go-to for the whole year. Seemingly forgotten by many (surely not Dave tho), this album and song really showed additional depth for Blake in my eyes.

7. "24" by IDK

Should to DJ Big Fan. This song is fun as fuck and has so many good one-liners. "She says she not a THOT she a nymphooo"

6. "Clarity" by Kim Petras

This song is a guilty pleasure, not because I am ashamed of its content or sound, but because Kim consistently works with Dr. Luke, the fuckhead who absolutely abused Ke$ha. This song absolutely bops though. Oof.

5. "All I Do is Lie" by Stef Chura

A very small sleeper hit for me, and a big regret when I missed Stef playing nearby, but I love the winding and twisting of this song and the simple mantras bouncing back and forth between meanings.

4. "Lark" by Angel Olsen

This song encapsulates all of Angel's album. It's the lead-in to the album, and it truly matches the scope and grandeur.

3. "Stupid Horse" by 100 Gecs

A song so strong I also want to beat the shit out of a jockey. Distill 100 gecs and for me, this song is at the center. High energy, nonsense, and just total fun. I don't feel bad saying I kind of wish all music sounded like this (sometimes).

2. "Jelmore" by Bon Iver

14,115 feet above sea level, I look out to the sweeping arc of the horizon, a cloudy sky blankets the landscape I left behind. Play this song on your rental car speakers when you choose to conquer fear and ascend a towering mountain.

1. "Gretel" by (Sandy) Alex G

I adore the slow fade in, the garbled vocals, the familiar guitar. The garbled mix slowly devolves into a clear message. Alex G has said he never looks up lyrics, that there is an ambiguity to all words in songs. Is that why he sings this with such clear conviction? There's no misinterpretation here: "good people got something to lose."

20 Albums from this year (ordered)

The first ten are great, but I didn't want to blurb for them all!

20. Clarity by Kim Petras

19. MAGDALENE by FKA Twigs

18. Midnight by Stef Chura

17. Miss Universe by Nilüfer Yanya

16. Dedicated by Carly Rae Jepsen

15. Two Hands by Big Thief

14. Assume Form by James Blake

13. basking in the glow by oso oso

12. Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? by Deerhunter

11. Pang by Caroline Polachek

10. Animated Violence Mild by Blanck Mass

I became stuck in place while listening to Blanck Mass on a plane this summer. One of the only albums I downloaded, it was all I had at 30,000 feet, thrumming engines piercing all the other music I had handy. The cacophony only added to this album, noise layered on noise but turning into melodies and stretching into songs.

9. Father of the Bride by Vampire Weekend

I don't know a ton about jam bands, but I definitely feel it when everyone else says this album was made in hopes of becoming one. This long ass album has some great highs, some charming lows, and honestly a really good chunk of Danielle Haim. Really a soundtrack to 2019 in a lot of ways. But it's really fuckin' long.

8. IGOR by Tyler, the Creator

Tyler's career has had the craziest arc. Rapping about killing women and progressing all the way to IGOR, which, is it even a rap album? The album contains such clear direction and vision, and far less of the reckless anger that Tyler became known for. The energy and sound has been honed down to a fine point, and there's a conciseness that sticks with you for hours after listening.

7. House of Sugar by (Sandy) Alex G

Alex G has always done so much for me. Bedroom music that has transformed each time into bigger and more detailed versions of itself. House of Sugar is no exception. While maybe a little less thrilling for me than Rocket, it's another evolution of this stripped down style, still laid bare but richer all the same.

6. U.F.O.F. by Big Thief

A lot of lists are going to feature some Big Thief. Big Thief is good, their music pierces you through the flesh and hits you in the bones. It stirs the spirit of a time now lost, sidelong glances through thickets of woodsy pines, listening to a friend play a simple song on their new guitar. It's great to celebrate a band and an album that puts a lot of pretense to bed and creates a simple, pleasing experience.

5. Charli by Charli XCX

Charli delivers an album after years of PC Music collaborated mix tapes and psuedo-album releases. Charli isn't some sort of second coming, but is the pinnacle of her expertise: fantastic collaborations, cutting edge beats, and familiar tales of her love and loss.

4. All Mirrors by Angel Olsen

Angel wasn't really known for her grandeur. Her songs and albums were dynamic, sure, with strong emotions, but All Mirrors dives into the direction of a grand pool, crystal clear and vast. "Lark" is a sweeping masterpiece, while "All Mirrors" has a methodical build and release. Angel is fully putting her voice and composition to work with an album this magnificent.

3. the first glass beach album by Glass Beach

My favorite description for this band is "post-emo." Many of my compatriots are not fond of band genres in generally, but for me this really nails it. It's a combination of an emotional, DIY scene with an online mentality, which I feel is representing the pace of the world. Also the music absolutely blasts, grand and epic and quiet and pensive, meandering as it wants.

2. Ghosteen by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Until about two months ago, I wasn't even a huge Nick Cave fan. Serendipitously, I happened to look into his backlog a couple weeks before this surpirse release. I spent a small amount of time looking into his older style, but when Ghosteen popped up, it floored me. That tangible loss, the grief that winds around you and grips you from within, it's on this album in full force. It's an album I know I will listen to sparingly, but lovingly, for ages and ages.

1. 1000 Gecs by 100 Gecs

I typically do not measure these kinds of lists by the number of listens. Usually albums with emotional weight or impact are not so accessible or listenable. This album is an absolute exception, it is crystalline and pure, it is powerful and subtle, its energy infectious. For me, it's a clear message describing the future of music I love.

Honorable menties, not conclusive or ordered, from this year:

Albums:

IDK's Is He Real?

Holly Herndon's PROTO

JPEGMAFIA's All My Heroes Are Cornballs

Battles's Juice B Crypts

Bon Iver's i,i

American Football's American Football (LP3)

DIIV's Deceiver

Anamanguchi's [USA]

Sir Babygirl's Crush on Me

Sharon Van Etten's Remind Me Tomorrow

Hemlock Ernst & Kenny Segal's Back At The House

Jay Som's Anak Ko

Florist's Emily Alone

Songs:

"Harmony Hall" by Vampire Weekend

"Superbike" by Jay Som

"Aute Cuture" by ROSALÍA

Many many others!

Roughly 10 of 2010-2019's best albums (unordered)

Halcyon Digest by Deerhunter

Encapsulate all of the indie rock I listened to and make it so dramatic it oozes lackadaisical energy.

The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do by Fiona Apple

The title is as long as the album is great. I am chomping at the bit for Fiona to follow this up with literally anything.

Carrie & Lowell by Sufjan Stevens

Many feel Sufjan could do no wrong, but it's not that he's unimpeachable, it's that he is able to shift his sound in pivotal ways at pivotal moments.

Cerulean Salt by Waxahatchee

Waxahatchee captured the post college ennui I was so suddenly thrust into, and continues to kick ass even after I got over the dread.

Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! by Godspeed You! Black Emperor

This album kicks ass, but also I have an undying emotional connection to it since I listened to it on repeat the months after pops died! "We Drift Like Worried Fire" is entwined in my soul.

Good Kid, M.A.A.D City by Kendrick Lamar

There is a lot of great Kendrick to choose from, but the one absolutely stacked with bangers will remain my favorite (but I totally acknowledge the artistic merit and beyond of Damn. and TPAB).

The Monitor by Titus Andronicus

I only got into this album like four years after the fact, but it scratched the civil-war-concept-album-actually-about-the-Northeast I didn't know I had! Pumped it also taught me a cool Abe Lincoln speech.

E•MO•TION by Carly Rae Jepsen

This album guided me from toeing around pop music to going all in and finally have a good time in life.

Song of the summer:

"Steal My Sunshine" by Len

Remarkably, for the 20th year in a row, the song of the summer is Len's "Steal My Sunshine." What a powerhouse.

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abundantchewtoys · 6 years ago

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HS Epi: Meat p11 reaction

Is the resolution of the Masterpiece really going to fall in between pages about Jane & Jake's fake date?

Maybe not. Maybe we'll see something from John's perspective first, inside the house juju. Giving himself the retcon powers. Coming to terms about some things. But I suspect he won't be able to contact anyone. At least, it would surprise (and entice!) me if someone contacted him while he's hidden away so remotely in there... Speaking of contact, how did John intend to have read anything inside the juju without his glasses or contacts? You can only spend so much time squinting.

I also wonder what they'll do when they're let out. I mean, they haven't become any better at fighting, and LE has. John won't zap his friends, Vriska and Davepetasprite^2 away to confer in a more secure location, right? Assuming he still has his retcon powers by the end of his stay in the house juju.

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"That’s that, you think. Your glasses are broken forever, and you totally fucked up and underestimated young Lord English. Rose should have known better than to trust this to you alone." Well, I guess having a mental breakdown is one way to pass the time. I'd rather he had some sort of breakthrough instead, though. As for the glasses... Maybe a non-final death will restore them? Or by ascending to his Ultimate Self god tier. Whatever that'd do to his personality...

"Rose, Rose... your smart, amazing friend Rose, you can almost hear her voice now.

> Listen closer, jackass." ... Ah, so Reload Rose and the others can still talk. Their jails neighbour each other after all - they represent the four blocks of the house - but I didn't think it'd be enough for them to confer. Though, I rather think they're limited in what they can do in here, right? Unless... Unless by being in the house juju, they can influence some things inside the plot, still put some things in place so some time loops are fulfilled and stuff is prepared for bringing down LE!

Pretty sure they're barred, narratively, from performing a jail break, though. :P

Ya know, I've talked about the sentiments behind the narrative prompts before, and I just now realized that the kind of intruisive, inflammable language they use are a throwback to Homestuck's narration, since now that we have this POV-type story, the language there in is more shaped towards the person in question.

"You’ve only realized right now that your cell has walls, because it’s awfully bright in here. It’s so white that nothing in the cell is casting a shadow. Looking around, you realize there is no apparent source to all this bright light, making it hard to tell where the floor ends and the walls begin." Oh, I figured it was dark for him, but yeah, the house is white. Maybe the jail cell looks to each as what their idea of being imprisoned in a house-shaped object should be like, and proportions of the space go to match that? Hence why John can't yet tell the floor from the walls, he's got only an inkling of an idea. :P

"JOHN: yeah, i’m here. ROSE: Oh, thank goodness. Everyone’s accounted for then." Hah, John spaced out while the others reconnected. Nice. I'm interested to see what ideas Rose will bring to the table.

So it all comes back to four kids, standing idly in separate rooms, huh. :P

"Are you okay? JOHN: what? ROSE: Are you OKAY?" Okay, either the walls muffle the sound of John is like "this situation does not warrant the use of the word 'okay', rose. 'okay' is definitely not how i would describe us being right now."

"JOHN: i think so. i can barely hear you though.

You can hear a thud from Rose’s corner, like someone slumping against the wall in relief. Well, that’s what you’re doing at least." That's pretty much all she needed to hear right now.

"DAVE: this is kinda dorky to say out loud but i dont DAVE: feel... time" ... They're cut off from all their aspects now, are they? That'd just make them ordinary people. :/ Or maybe it's in reference to time outside of the juju passing way faster, relatively.

"DAVE: thats not just me right you guys feel it too DAVE: or dont JADE: yeah JADE: i mean theres obviously space inside this box but i cant do ANYTHING JADE: its like im blind" ... Okay, so I'm left to wonder. Would the egg sword and Jade's First Guardian powers still be usable? I'm assuming Dave had it out, so even if their sylladexes are inaccessible they might be able to do something.

"The noise outside the juju grows. Something sharp and metallic splinters above and rains down on the top of the chest." That isn't something to do with the pirate party finding the chest in the dreambubbles... So then, what? Did the B2 kids do something with the chest after exiling (excorcising? ... INcorcising?) Caliborn into Lil Cal?

Blaperile has a good point. Do all the soul splices inside Lil Cal experience this in the same way? ... Do all the soul splices in LORD ENGLISH experience this in the same way?? In the sense that the mobster is just a prison they can't escape or influence?

"ROSE: What did my future self say it was we had to do? JOHN: erm... she never rea—" Oh this is going to be so embarrassing.

"The metallic noises rain down harder, drowning out Rose’s attempt at being loud." ... It's that the noises are metallic, otherwise I was almost beginning to think it was more like the white noise. And that would have made me think of the Scratch. That would sure be something though, if the B2 kids initiated a Scratch of Caliborn's session. Actually, what if that was how Alternate Calliope's timeline came to be...

"JOHN: NOW I CAN’T HEAR YOU! JADE: TRY USING LESS WORDS

The length of the silence coming from Rose’s corner communicates just how difficult a task that is for her." Pfffffffff. Incoming character development for Rose: being concise.

"JADE: WHAT????? JOHN: I KNOW IT’S ALL A BIT ABSTRACT, BUT... JADE: NO, I JUST CAN’T HEAR YOU! DAVE: JOHN YOU SUCK AT YELLING JOHN: UGH!" Pfffff, I thought John would be better at yelling coherently, being Karkat's counterpole. ... Blaperile points out the similarity with Karkat sucking at whispering. XD

"Now you understand defeating young Lord English was never supposed to happen. Not the way Adult Rose was implying it would. You surmise the other four teens remaining outside the juju were the ones meant to be tasked with his defeat." It just sucks that John has to come to these admittedly wrong decisions by himself and couldn't have been given more information to work with.

"And judging from the cacophony still emanating from beyond the walls of this house and its confining chest, they are taking the task seriously." Okay, so the B2 kids' fight is still going on. Still unsure what the metal sounds could be about though. Aside from Dirk hacking at the chest with his unbreakable katana.

"But what does this mean for the four of you?" John, don't lose hope, you said it yourself, you'll be unloaded... some time.

"You try to picture what’s going on in the battle outside, but it’s not easy.

> Use your imagination." Of course, the house juju's powers run on imagination! :P No, wait, he's just going to give us his idea of the proceedings of the rest of the Masterpiece. Sadly, he doesn't have any clay at hand. :P

"The coolness of the action in your mind’s eye is belied by the actual sound effects booming all around you, which you can only describe as vaguely stupid." Welp, guess the bar of wedgies is still being cleared only marginally.

"There’s a lot of hysterical screaming, which, if you’re not mistaken, is coming exclusively from the male combatants. ... Well, Dirk IS living and breathing anime. :P

"Almost as if an outrageous bubble of pure Hope were enveloping the stage, is how you would describe it if you didn’t mind sounding ridiculous." Hah, John still doesn't believe in the application of Hope.

"Then you hear... it can’t be. Horses?? No, not simple horses of flesh and bone. These horses are metal, if we’re to believe they’re horses at all." Oh! Right, Arquiusprite summoned those Metalhoofs. Well, that's what I picture they were, Caliborn represented them with metal horse figures... But perhaps he even created robo-centaur butlers and the like. *shivers*

"You figure no one will ever truly know what’s happening out there. You doubt anyone would even be able to handle how incredible the raw, unfiltered account of this teen brawl actually was, so it’s probably for the best." Welp, and we were doing so well just now. :P Eh, it seems the battle unfolded pretty much exactly as foretold, only with some of the more stupid details removed, curtousy of Caliborn's impatience with stupidity. Which in this case might not have been entirely bad. :P

"you overhear Dave from one of the rooms below you, raising his voice to speak to either you or someone else." Right, they are not all on the same level, since it's a house-shaped prison. Uh, but wasn't Dave supposed to be in the part of the house with the extra window? It's been too long, I probably misremember. Oh, wait, yeah, they went through the fourth wall via one of the bottom panes, and it stood for Dave. Never mind.

"Once more you ruefully reflect on these teen versions of your friends, and all the questions they must have for you. For each other. What would you even say to them?" The responsibilities of an adult, John never expected they'd be this hard. He must be growing more appreciative of what his Dad went through with him without even knowing it.

"You’re not even sure you could handle it, if you were Teen John. You’d have too many follow-up questions, which Adult John is in no way prepared to answer." Still, I wouldn't mind a little one-on-one between Johns. A John-on-John, I suppose. In a serious way, nothing from the animes.

"Would you tell them about Terezi..." Oooh, does he suddenly get an idea, thinking of Terezi? Can't say I think they can do anything to contact her from inside here. Hmm, but earlier, Blaperile thought about what the B2 kids could do with the juju chest, whether they might try to get the others out. That's assuming Caliborn didn't captchalogue the thing, though. Still, it would be something if they could defy what's been foretold and unload the house early, maybe load it with a real surprise for LE.

"For some reason her name feels like nails in your heart. Makes sense, you guess, cause there’s a lot of sharp letters in it. She had sharp teeth too, and sharp elbows. Sharp words." Ahhhh, so we get to see what black romance feels like to John. Looking pretty sharp, apparently. Still, her sharp intellect could've come in handy here. It's a good thing chances are good they'll meet again, I'm sure post-victory Terezi has an important role to play yet.

"Terezi Pyrope was a sharp girl, and maybe what these sharp feelings are trying to tell you is you miss her more than you realized." Well, John has already acknowledged his feelings about Roxy, guess it's time for the other side of the two-headed coin now.

"She wouldn’t have let you neglect relationships with certain friends for so long that you missed whole chapters of their lives. She wouldn’t have put up with you moping around with the salamanders for so long. She would have kicked your ass for being such a loser about everything. She would have poked you in the forehead and called you insufferably lame and told you to pick up the damn phone. You would have called her a weirdo and pretended you hated it, and maybe you would even have believed you hated it. But now, sitting here in this little white cubicle, contemplating your regrets, you don’t think you’d have hated it much at all.

Would you tell the teens that?" Oooh. Very good point, actually. Even if John really only knows that version of Terezi from talking to her on two separate days separate by three years, she had a real impact on him. Granted, they also kept contact on WhatsApp as well in Universe C, but during the session was when their interactions bloomed. It'd probably be a stretch for Meat to end with John retconning the post-victory timeline to include Terezi on Earth, with him, right? After they defeat Lord English first, of course. Oh, right, she was there for two years before leaving... somehow. I kind of forgot. Still, five years would've made a difference in where John ended up by the start of the epilogues.

"JOHN: am i... depressed??" ... Well. Well, as far as growing self-awareness goes, this might be a very big development! Yes, it does seem that John has become listless on Earth C. Mostly it seemed to have to do with the absence of his Dad. But maybe he'll have other ideas about that, like his misfortune in matters romantic.

"as it turns out, you are really fucking depressed. You’re just a giant, wet meat sack of self-involved misery, and all that big, wet, meaty ooze drips out your mouth every time you open it. All the time and space in the world isn’t making it better. It’s something you should have been doing for yourself, instead of waiting around for things to get better." Wow, John. I suppose things will get a little harder for him, now that he's realized this about himself, but I hope he'll find a way soon out of this mess. And so, that's what he's been doing on Earth C, just waiting for things to get better. And no-one picked up on it, not even the other people close to him that bordered on depression before? Like Jade? He really alienated himself...

"Well, screw waiting! It’s boring as hell! You are JOHN EGBERT, after all, immortal CREATOR OF WORLDS, the one and only man ever to completely transcend the partitions of CANON ITSELF. You’ve got these powers, remember?" Well THAT's a sudden surge of RESOLVE if I've ever seen one!

"You hold up your hands and form a rectangle with your fingers and reach outside yourself, outside canon, to the place your retcon powers come from. You focus. You strain. You contemplate with all your might a place you can zap to, any place but here." There's no place like home, there's no place like home! :p Kind of wondering if he'll succeed though. He might be cut off from his powers. But if not, canon is his oyster.

"You wait. And wait. And wait and...

Nothing happens.

You slump back down against the wall" Welp! He tried.

"JOHN: THE ONLY WAY OUT OF HERE... JOHN: IS FOR US TO WAIT FOR SOMEONE TO LET US OUT. JOHN: SORRY GUYS. ROSE: OH." Anyone up for a game of "I see I see what you can't see"?

"JOHN: ALSO... JOHN: I THINK I MIGHT HAVE DEPRESSION?" Well, at least they won't have a lack of stuff to be talking, sorry, yelling about. Rose might be partially delighted to pick at the brains of an adult John, in fact.

#homestuck #upd8 #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #reaction #spoiler alert #john egbert

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